#get along with them and all they would do was fuck with me and betray my trust because they thought it was funny that i trusted them so much

[andvys]

It's just us | S.H.

Warnings: 18+, angst, cheating (reader and Steve get cheated on by their partners), heartbreak, betrayal, enemies to lovers, King!Steve, smut, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, r and Steve are both over the age of 18, mentions of reader having nipple piercings

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve hated each other from the first moment you met but when you get betrayed by the people you love the most, all you have is each other.

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: I was really fucking close to making this an Eddie fic or at least a Steddie fic cause Eddie Munson owns me but this one is for my Steve girlies and for the ones who asked me to write for him before so here ya go. And I'm back to focusing on my one and only

stranger things masterlist

part two (steddie x reader)

-

There was one person that you hated more than anything, Steve Harrington. From the first moment you have laid your eyes on him, you just couldn’t stand him. You hated his cocky and arrogant personality, his perfect reputation, how sure of himself he always was. You hated King Steve, you hated the way he looked at you, you hated the way he used every opportunity to piss you off, he said things that he knew would get under your skin. 

He hated you too, he hated how loved you were, he hated how popular you were. Both of you rivaled each other, he was the captain of the basketball team and you were the head cheerleader. In a perfect world, you would be together and people would call you a dream couple but instead you two hated each other’s guts. 

You threw nasty words at each other, bickering every time you were around each other. You avoided him as much as he avoided you and for a while it worked until he started dating your best friend, Nancy. 

Over were the peaceful lunch breaks at the cafeteria where you would only sit with her and your boyfriend. Steve started tagging along with her, greeting you with cocky grins and mocking waves whenever he would sit down opposite of you. 

Not only were you forced to spend every lunch break with him, you also had to tolerate him during movie nights, parties and even worse, double dates. 

You hated him more and more. 

You thought that your boyfriend would take your side, joining in on the Steve Harrington hate train but oddly enough, they became friends. 

Months went by and you had hoped that Nancy would realize what a douchebag King Steve is, leave his ass in the dust and find another boyfriend but she seemed happy and he did too. 

Nancy and Steve were happy. 

Jonathan and Steve got along. 

Everyone got along, except for you and him. You hated him but god, you grew to love the fights and the bickering, you found entertainment in them. You loved pissing him off, loved teasing him, loved throwing mean words at him even when you knew that he would do the same and say something hurtful in return. 

Yes, Steve Harrington got under your skin but you got under his too. It was clear, the way his cheeks turned red and his eyes flashed with anger, he would clench his jaw and his fists before he’d turn away from you. 

“Tina is throwing a party this friday, are we going?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend and your best friend. 

“Of course, we’re going,” Steve says. 

You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him, “I wasn’t talking to you, Harrington.” 

Jonathan sighs, mumbling your name in annoyance. 

You ignored him, continuing to look into hazel eyes with a challenging look on your face. 

“Bitch,” Steve mumbles. 

“Steve!” Nancy exclaims, turning towards her boyfriend with wide eyes, “that wasn’t nice.” 

“Aw,” he shrugs, throwing his arm around her shoulder, he turns back to you, giving you a small smirk, “I’m sorry, queen y/n.” 

You scrunch your face up in annoyance, he knows you hate when people call you that. 

Rolling your eyes, you reach for the fries on your boyfriend’s plate, throwing some at the man in front of you, “shut up, asshole.” 

He dodges the fries, laughing when they hit some kid behind him. 

“Are you gonna wear one of those ugly leather jackets again?” He asks you, “they make you look cheap, y/n.” 

A laugh falls from your lips, you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, “at least I don’t let my mom buy my clothes,” you say as your eyes trail down his shirt, “seriously, have you ever stepped foot inside a store yourself? Your mommy still dresses you up like you’re some innocent little virgin.” 

His smile falls and he scoffs at you, “I’m not a virgin.” 

“I know, you’re a whore in virgin’s clothes.” 

He raises his eyebrows at you, “seriously?” He snorts, “you wanna call me a whore now?” 

You are both so caught up in each other, you don’t notice the stolen glances between your boyfriend and his girlfriend, the longing gazes, the forbidden touches between the table as they reach for the other’s hand. 

If you paid more attention, you would have noticed it a long time ago already but you were focused on other things. 

Jonathan was a loving and sweet boyfriend, you had no reason not to trust him. 

If you would’ve just known.. 

“Are we gonna go to the movies tonight?” You ask as you finally turn away from Steve and look at your boyfriend, smiling at him, you’re unable to see the guilt in his eyes. 

He blinks, coughing nervously. 

Nancy looks down at her food tray, pushing around the salad she hasn’t touched, her cheeks are red, her brows are furrowed. 

You don’t notice how weird they are both being but Steve does, it is something he hasn’t noticed before but feels like it’s always been there, the tension in Jonathan’s shoulders, the distant look in his eyes, the furrowed brows as he looks down at you. 

“Uh, shit, I-I no, I forgot to tell you, I’m taking Will to the record store tonight and he asked for a movie night,” he explains. 

Steve expects you to frown at his words, sigh sadly and mumble a quiet ‘oh’ but instead your eyes light up and you grab Jonathan’s shoulder, “oh! Can I come with you?” You ask excitedly. Steve might not know much about you except for the very obvious things but he knows how much you love spending time with Will.

“We just wanna have a boys night, next time, alright?” 

Now your smile falls, only for just a second but Steve sees it, he sees the disappointment in your eyes, the one you quickly mask with a pretentious smile, “oh that’s fine, umm I hope you’re going to have lots of fun,” you say, leaning in to kiss his cheek, he gives you a smile, one that doesn’t even reach his eyes. You lay your head on his shoulder, linking your arm with him. 

A weird feeling settles in the pit of Steve’s stomach, he leans back and stares at the man in front of him, he sees the way his eyes meet Nancy’s blue ones, it just for a split second but he sees it. 

A few months ago, he wouldn’t question it. He never had a problem with their friendship, Jonathan was her friend before he became her boyfriend and you never had a problem with their friendship either, you trusted them. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have. 

Steve doesn’t know why but he can’t shake the feeling that something is off, that things have been off for a long time now. He tells himself that he is overthinking things, that he lets his anxious thoughts get the best of him but they had only gotten worse when Nancy canceled their date after he had dropped her off at home, he was excited to take her out, he had it all planned, he would take her to dinner and movies and afterwards they’d watch the stars at lovers lake but instead he was left in the cold after she told him that she couldn’t go out with him because she had to help Mike with his homework. Mike, who was here at Benny’s diner with Will, Dustin and Lucas. 

“What the fuck,” he mumbles as he stands there, staring at them with a dumbfound expression on his face. 

Mike was clearly not in need of help for his homework and Will didn’t seem to have plans for a movie night any time soon. Someone drove them here but it wasn’t Jonathan, no, it was Eddie Munson who jumped into the empty seat next to Dustin as he held some book in his hand. 

Slowly he started piecing everything together and as he thought of all the times Nancy had canceled their dates at the same time as Jonathan had canceled yours, his stomach dropped. Those weird looks both of them shared earlier today just added to his worry. 

He forgot about the order he had placed and rushed out of the diner, ignoring the waitress who called for him when she held the bag and a drink in her hand. His mind was running wild as the worst scenarios rushed through his thoughts. 

He doesn’t even remember how he got into the car or how he drove all the way to the Wheeler’s house. His heart was racing and his hands were clenched into fists, he was nervous and the anger inside of him was already building up. 

He had suspicions but he didn’t want to dwell on them, not yet. But when he climbed up the wall to his girlfriend’s window, hoping to find her studying or listening to music, he didn’t find her doing any of those things. Instead, he caught her having sex with your boyfriend. 

He grips the wall tighter when he almost loses his footing. He can’t even stop the gasp from escaping as his eyes widen. 

His girlfriend is having sex with your boyfriend. 

Nancy is fucking Jonathan, Nancy who is your best friend.

He stares in shock, frozen in place and with a broken heart he stares at them. Jonathan’s hands are on her waist, gripping her tightly as she bounces on his cock. She bites her lip to stay quiet. 

The bile rises in his throat, he feels sick, he feels betrayed and angry. 

He turns away and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before he jumps down into the grass. He almost throws up into Karen’s beloved flowers but he holds himself together, at least for now. 

Tears brim in his eyes, he doesn’t understand. 

Why would she do this to him? 

Why would she hurt him like this? 

Why would she cheat on him? 

Why would she do this to you? 

You have always been her best friend, you grew up together, your mom’s are best friends. You have always been by her side, you have done everything for her. You could’ve chosen other friends, you could’ve been friends with other popular girls like Chrissy Cunningham but no, you stayed friends with Nancy. 

And Jonathan… Now, Steve had become friends with him when he started dating her and thought that Jonathan was actually a pretty decent guy but before that, he had always wondered why you even gave him the time of your day. You are the popular and annoyingly happy cheerleader and he is just, well, he is Jonathan. The boring freak. But then again, rumor has it that you have always liked to associate with men who weren’t anywhere near your league and apparently you liked to fuck freaks, that’s something that Steve could never believe. You were a good girl, you had that innocence in your eyes that told him that rumors were just rumors. 

For some time, Steve thought that you were playing a prank on Jonathan, that you dated him for a bet but when a year had passed and you still looked at him with those stupid heart eyes, he knew you were serious about him. 

Now he feels like throwing up, he isn’t just angry for himself, he is also angry for you. If the betrayal hurt him so much, what would it do to you? 

The moment he steps into his bathroom, he drops to his knees and pukes his lunch out. 

God, he has never felt this sick in his life before. How will he ever move on from this? 

He loves her with all his heart but he is so incredibly angry and hurt. He spends the rest of the night crying, unable to catch a moment of peace. He stares at the ceiling as he lays in his lonely bed, tears stream down his face as his mind replays the horrible things he had seen. 

What should he do? 

Should he confront them? Should he break up with her? Should he make a scene and humiliate them in front of the whole school? No, he is not like that and he wouldn’t do this to you. 

He doesn’t know what to do. So he pretends that everything is fine. 

He takes a shower, styles his hair and picks out an outfit that you won’t tease him for. He drinks his coffee and then he picks up Nancy but the moment he lays his eyes on her and she gives him that cheerful smile and kiss on the lips, he feels himself growing sick again. How could she pretend that nothing happened? How could she kiss him like this when her lips touched his last night?

The anger diminished a little only to rush back even more intensely when he was forced to greet Jonathan at school. God, he wants to punch him so hard, he has to restrain himself from doing so. Especially when he lays eyes on you. A big smile is resting on your face, your eyes are shining with happiness, your perfect ponytail is bouncing as you rush through the hallways with your pretty little cheerleader uniform. You wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s waist and lay your head on his back, “hi babe, I missed you so much last night.” 

“I missed you too, y/n,” Jonathan says as he smiles, placing his hand over yours. 

Steve grows hatred for the man and for his girlfriend when he feels her squeezing his hand. 

He can’t even stop the scoff before it falls from his lips, causing all three of you to look at him in confusion. 

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks, feigning concern. 

He nods. 

You raise your eyebrows at him, a cocky smirk tugging at your lips, “ooh, did someone had a rough night?” 

Yes and you’d be having one too if you knew that your boyfriend was buried in my girlfriend last night, Steve thinks to himself. 

He doesn’t say anything, instead he shuts his locker and turns away from the three of you, “I gotta go to class,” he mumbles without giving Nancy a goodbye kiss or Jonathan a pat on the back the way he always does. He bumps into someone, not bothering to apologize, he grumpily mutters something under his breath. 

“Who pissed in his coffee this morning?” You chuckle, missing the way Nancy and Jonathan looked at each other. 

“I- he probably got into a fight with his dad again,” Nancy says, shrugging nervously. 

You step away from Jonathan, walking towards your best friend, you take her hand in yours, “is everything alright between the two of you?” 

She blinks, looking over your shoulder and back to you, she nods, “y-yeah, totally,” she smiles, shaking her head. 

“Okay, good,” you smile, squeezing her hand, “but I’m always here for you and you can talk to me, okay?” 

She looks down, nodding at your words, “yeah, I know.” 

“Alright, well, I think we should go shopping after school, I need some new party outfits.” 

“Oh, I-I can’t, y/n. I already have an outfit and I was supposed to look after Holly today.” 

You frown at her words, a sad look flashes in her eyes.

“You are a busy girl, Nancy Wheeler.”

-

Steve was being weird, well, he was always being weird but something about him today was just off. Not only did he pay no mind to you, he also ignored Jonathan and Nancy. 

No comments were thrown your way today, no mean words, no remarks, he didn’t tease you or even glare at you. Nothing. You saw him talking to Robin Buckley when you were on your way to the bathroom. He looked like was on the verge of tears and the girl comforted him with a hand on his shoulder and words you couldn’t make out. 

Seeing him like this makes you feel weird, you don’t really care about him but you care about your friend and there’s clearly something going on between them and you are certain about that when you sit down beside Jonathan in the cafeteria. Just like yesterday, you sit across from Steve but instead of meeting his teasing eyes, you meet his angry ones, though you feel that the anger isn’t directed at you but at someone else. 

You try to ignore him and the way his gaze seems to be getting more and more intense. He watches you and Jonathan, a frown deep in his features as he watches how your boyfriend kisses you like nothing ever happened. 

You don’t know. 

You don’t know what he is doing behind your back. 

You don’t know that he is hurting you, that he is cheating on you with your best friend. 

How long have they been going behind your backs? 

Has this been happening when you were all together at parties? When you went to the lakehouse his dad owns? God, he could scream and expose their disgusting secrets to the whole school. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Nancy asks as she puts her hand on Steve’s thigh. He tenses up, clenching his jaw as he turns to look at her. 

“No, I’m not hungry, Nancy.” 

Your eyes flash with surprise, the tone in his voice was filled with anger. 

She looks taken aback, furrowing her brows at her boyfriend’s behavior, “you barely touched your food–” 

“I said I’m not hungry!” He snaps at her. 

Before any of you can even react, he gets up and storms out of the cafeteria, not caring about the prying eyes of the other students. 

You frown at his behavior, growing angry when you see the tears in Nancy’s eyes. 

“That asshole,” you mumble, getting up, you follow him out, ignoring Jonathan’s and Nancy’s calls. 

You slam the doors to the hallway open, rushing towards him with anger in your bones. 

“Steve!” 

He keeps walking, ignoring you. 

“Hey!” 

He abruptly turns around, throwing his hands up, he sighs, “what!?” 

“What?” You scoff, “what the fuck was that? Why are you being so mean?” 

He laughs at your words, closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. 

“She didn’t do anything to you, Steve.” 

“If only you knew.” 

Something about the way he said it and looked at you, sent shivers down your spine. 

Instead of the usual hatred and anger you see in his eyes, you find empathy in them. Why? It makes you nervous. 

“W-What do you mean?” You ask. 

Steve knows that you won’t believe him, you gotta see it with your own eyes, you don’t deserve this. You love Jonathan, you have always been good to him. You deserve better and he knows he does too. 

“Steve,” you mumble, “what do you mean?” 

You have got to know. You’re a smart girl, you should’ve noticed the way your best friend and boyfriend behaved around you, the way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other. 

Right now, he doesn’t hate you, he just feels sorry for you. 

“Go to Nancy’s house this afternoon.” 

“No, she– Steve!” 

He walks away before giving you an explanation, leaving you standing there like a fool. 

What is this about? 

Usually, you would never listen to him, you wouldn’t do what he had told you to do. You wouldn’t go to Nancy’s house if you didn’t have your own suspicions already, the ones that made you feel sick for the longest time. 

His seriousness and his anger is what made you feel scared. 

He wasn’t mean to you today, he didn’t even glare at you, that’s how you knew that something was very off. 

So you listened to him, you went to Nancy’s house. You didn’t want to but on the way home from the mall, you drove by her house and found Jonathan’s car in the driveway. 

Nothing weird about it right? They are friends, they are allowed to be friends. 

Yet, you can’t shake that awful feeling that something horrible is about to happen. So you park the car and make your way inside her house, using the spare key that she gave you years ago. 

The house is empty, Karen isn’t there and neither is Ted. Holly and Mike are nowhere to be seen. You don’t call out for Nancy the way you usually would. With a nervous sigh, you grip the keys tighter in your hand and climb up the stairs. 

You hear music coming from her room, The Cure. Nancy doesn’t listen to The Cure but your boyfriend does. You hear the noises, you hear them. 

With a shaky hand, you open the door and as you lay eyes on the two of them, your heart drops and a gasp falls from your lips as you raise your hand to cup your mouth. 

There he is, your boyfriend, shoving his tongue down your best friend’s throat. Both of them are half naked, her chest is covered in hickeys already, his hair is a mess, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths as she moves her hand into his pants. 

“What the fuck?” 

They jump apart when they hear your voice, staring at each other like deers caught in headlights before they look at you. 

Her blue eyes widen as do his. 

No longer do their cheeks glow red, instead they look pale when they see you standing there with tears in your eyes and anger on your face. 

“Fuck– y/n!” He scrambles to his feet, trying to find his shirt. 

Nancy looks away from you, crossing her arms over her chest, she suddenly feels too ashamed to meet your eyes. 

“You are fucking disgusting,” you mumble angrily, ignoring the heartbreak in your chest or the feeling of your throat getting tighter. The tears begin to spill and you look between them in shock. 

Jonathan takes a step towards you. 

“Don’t come anywhere near me, Byers. We’re fucking over!” 

His eyes widen, his lips part as he tries to speak but no words leave his mouth. 

“And you, fuck you, Nancy.” 

You don’t care to look back at them, rushing out of the house as quickly as you came. You wipe away the angry tears, biting down on your quivering lip as you get back in your car. 

You knew it. You’re no fool. You knew it. You just made yourself believe that you didn’t but deep down you always knew. Who were you trying to fool? It was so clear. 

Can you even feel heartbroken? You set yourself up for it when you started dating the guy who always saw her. 

-

Maybe Steve should’ve told you, maybe he shouldn’t have told you to go to her place, maybe he should’ve protected you from seeing that. But did he have a choice? You hate him, you wouldn’t have believed him, you would’ve scoffed at him and laughed in his face. 

But still, he should’ve told you. 

He shouldn’t have let you see that. 

Now he feels guilty for it, despite the ache in his chest and the betrayal he still tries to deal with, he feels guilty for not telling you. 

You are pretending to be fine when you’re not. 

You didn’t come to school on Wednesday, Thursday or today but here you are at Tina’s party, dressed in the skimpiest outfit you could find, throwing back one drink after the other, yet you don’t seem to be getting drunk but it’s only as he notices you pouring yourself coke instead of alcohol that he realizes you aren’t here to get drunk. 

You are here because you don’t want to be alone, just like him. He had a feeling that you would come, that was another reason why he came. 

The loud music is hurting his ears and the whiskey is starting to give him a headache. He places his drink on a small table. Running his hand through his messy hair, he pushes past a group of girls who begin to whisper behind his back. Nancy’s and Jonathan’s name falling from their lips. He decides to ignore it. 

His focus is on something else, you. You’re standing by the punch with Heather Holloway, giggling about something she had whispered in your ear. 

Should he talk to you? 

You down the rest of your drink and place the cup on the counter, gesturing to the stairs as you leave your friend. He decides to follow you and calls your name. 

You turn around, smile disappearing from your face when your eyes lock with his, an eye roll and a scoff is all he gets. 

He rolls his eyes too, what else did he expect, a hug? 

“Can we talk?” He has to yell for you to understand him. 

You only shake your head and continue your way up the stairs. 

“Please?” 

Once you stop in front of a door, you turn around and look up at him, “no.” You slam the door in his face, causing him to sigh. 

He leans against the wall, deciding to wait for you. 

What does he even want to say to you? Does he even want to say anything to you? 

When you walk back out, he doesn’t even give you a chance, he takes your hand in his, ignoring your protests or your light slap to his back. 

“Let go of me, Harrington!” 

“Nope,” he mumbles as he pulls you into an empty and dark room, he pushes against the wall before he turns to close and lock the door, leaving you in complete darkness. 

“What the hell do you want from me?” 

Steve frowns. 

“Shit, hold on,” he mumbles, “I can’t find the light switch.” 

“Seriously?” 

You can hear him moving around, cursing under his breath. Maybe it would’ve been funny under different circumstances, if you were locked in a room with someone other than King Steve. 

“Got it,” he mumbles as he turns on the lights. 

Your arms are crossed and a frown is on your face, lips set in a pout. 

“I uh– I heard you broke up with Jonathan?” 

You squint your eyes, “that’s what you wanna talk about? What the fuck do you really want?” 

“I should’ve told you, I shouldn’t have sent you there,” he admits in guilt, giving you a sad look. 

You scoff at his words, rolling your eyes, “yeah right, you want me to believe that, Steve?” 

“It’s the truth, I’m very sorry,” he says, “about everything. You don’t deserve this, they’re fucking assholes for doing– for you know–”

“For cheating on us?” 

He glances at you and for the first time he sees something other than hatred, empathy, you feel for him just like he feels for you but it’s obvious that you still don’t like him. 

“I-I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you,” he mumbles, “she’s been your best friend since you were kids and he–”

“Fuck them both,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. 

You are in denial about your feelings, pretending to be fine so you don’t have to confront your pain. He can see it in your eyes though, the pain they left behind. 

“When did you find out?” You ask. 

“The day before you did. I went to the diner and saw Will and Mike there and I knew that they both lied, I went to her house and.. yeah.” He can’t bring himself to say it, he doesn’t have to. You know it. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

He looks confused almost, shaking his head slightly, “you wouldn’t have believed me?” 

“You expect me to believe that that’s the reason why you didn’t just tell me?” 

“That is the reason!” 

You walk closer to him as tears well up in your eyes, “fuck you, Steve Harrington! Fuck you. You sent me there to taunt me! I know you caught them and you wanted me to catch them too, you wanted me to feel what you felt, you wanted me to suffer, you’re a fucking dick, Steve! I hate you!” 

His eyes flash with anger, he scoffs at you, clenching his jaw. 

“Go on, let it all out.” He nods. 

He might not know as well as your friends do but he can tell that you were pushing the pain back, you refused to cry over a man who cheated on you and over a best friend who betrayed you in the most hurtful way. 

You are dealing with your emotions by using him as a punching bag and he doesn’t like it, so he decides to do something else. 

“Y-You are such a–” He cuts you off by grabbing your cheeks and smashing his lips against yours, he kisses you roughly. 

Your eyes widen and you squeal in surprise. 

What the fuck? 

Steve Harrington is kissing you. 

He is kissing you and you fucking like it. Your life couldn’t have been more of a mess. First your boyfriend cheats on you with your best friend that he dated and now he is kissing you. He is supposed to hate you, he is supposed to be horrible to you but instead he is kissing you in a way you have never been kissed before. 

Fuck it. 

His lips tastes like cheery coke and he smells so fucking good. 

You throw your arms around his shoulders and close your eyes as you kiss him back. He moans against you, the sound shoots straight to your core. You move your hand into his hair, gripping it and pulling his perfectly styled hair. 

His hands slide down to your waist and he pushes you further into the room without breaking the kiss that grows heavier by the second. He grabs your ass, squeezing it tightly with his large hands, earning a moan from you. Steve smirks against your lips as he presses himself against you. 

“S-Steve,” you whimper as you break the kiss, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You ask the man you are supposed to hate. 

He presses another kiss to your lips before he pulls away, staring at you with his hazel eyes that hold both pain and anger, “why do they get to have all the fun?” 

You swallow nervously, you hate him, you hate him so much and yet you find yourself longing for him, for his touch, for his lips. 

He leans in again but you push him back weakly. 

“No,” you whisper, “I hate you.” 

“Yeah?” He rasps against your lips, “feeling’s mutual, honey. That’s okay, we don’t have to like each other, right?”

You blink, shrugging, your eyes flicker down to his lips, “I-I guess not.” 

“You can mark me up, show her who fucked me,” he tells you as he pushes you down onto the soft bed, playing with the hem of your skirt, “you can let your anger out on me, I don’t mind.” 

“You really wanna fuck me?” You ask as you chase after his lips, kissing them almost a little too softly. 

“Fuck yes, I do,” he murmurs as he latches his lips onto your neck, spreading your legs so he can settle in between them, “I wanna rip your skimpy little clothes off, make you scream my name.”

His lips are soft yet rough as he marks your neck, he sucks and bites on your skin, squeezing your waist tightly with his hands as he grinds his clothed dick against your aching cunt. 

“What makes you think that I’ll scream your name?” You ask, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows as you moan at the feeling of him. God, you can already tell that he is big.

“You will moan my name.” 

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he says in a way that sends shivers down your spine, your pussy clenches around nothing. 

“Do it then because he never could.” 

A smirk grows on his face. 

“You wanna fuck me to get back at him?” You ask, “do it then.” 

Before you know it, he rips your top off, throwing it over his shoulder before your bra joins it on the floor. Lust fills his eyes and his cheeks flush red when he sees your nipple piercings, “holy fuck,” he mumbles, staring at you with a dumbfound expression as he grabs your boobs, touching your sensitive nipples with his fingers, “shit… the good little cheerleader has her nipples pierced?” 

You look up at him with a pleading look in your eyes, moaning as he continues to roll your nipples. You grab his hand, bringing it up to your face, you wrap your lips around his thumb and begin to suck on it. 

His eyes widen yet again, pants growing tighter as his cock hardens in his tight jeans.

“Fuck, you’re a little freak aren’t you?” He smirks darkly, “Byers couldn’t handle all of that, huh? Guess he wasn’t the freak after all, it was you.” 

He really couldn’t. It was only ever lazy sex with him, sloppy blowjobs and making love. You didn’t want to make love, you wanted to be fucked like a whore. 

You shake your head at him and spread your legs, letting your skirt slide up. 

“Shut up and fuck me before I find someone else.” 

“Shit,” he mumbles as his eyes fall on your lacy red underwear, your already soaked underwear, it makes his dick twitch in his pants. 

“You shut up, princess. I’m not letting anyone fuck you, you’re mine tonight.” 

He drops to his knees in front of you, grabbing your ankles, he slides his hand up to your thigh, teasing you by rubbing your clit over your panties. 

“Look at you, your panties are soaked,” he teases, smirking at the way you bite your lip to stop the moans from falling. He grabs the thin material, ripping it off and throwing it on the ground. 

Your eyes widen and you lean on your elbows, staring at him with a disapproving look on your face. The panties that you had bought a few days ago are now on the floor, ripped apart. 

“Steve–”

“Yeah, Yeah,” he rolls his eyes as he places your legs over his shoulders, “I’ll buy you new ones.” 

He presses a teasing kiss on your clit, smirking when you whine at his action. 

“You’re so fucking wet, honey. Is that all for me? I thought you hated me.” 

“God, fucking shut up and d–” He cuts you off, gripping your hips tighter, he licks up stripe up your pussy, moaning at your taste, “you shut up,” he mumbles before he buries his face in your cunt. Nudging his nose against your aching clit as he slips his tongue inside of you. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper as you slap your hand over your mouth, not wanting to give the satisfaction that he is making you moan. 

He grunts against you, sliding his hand up your body, he cups your boob and tugs at your nipple, earning a gasp from you. 

“Steve!” 

“Hand off your mouth, y/n,” he says, glaring at you with dark eyes, “let me hear your moans.” 

You roll your eyes and put your hand down. 

“Good girl.” He mumbles, eyes twinkling with mischief when he sees your flustered expression, he feels you clench around his fingers as he pushes two inside of you, “fuck, you’re tight, how am I gonna fit inside of you?” 

His words cause you to roll your eyes again, he will never stop being cocky. 

Moans and whimpers echo through the room when he begins to eat you out, switching his fingers with his tongue as he grabs your ass and holds you even tighter than before when you begin to squirm beneath him. 

You reach down, gripping his hair and pulling at it. 

“F-Fuck, Steve….” You whine. Tears blur your vision, your muscles tense and your back arches in pleasure, “d-don’t stop, Steve, please don’t stop,” you breathe as you feel his tongue on your clit again and his fingers back in your pussy. 

He moans against you, mumbling praises you cannot focus on. 

King Steve is eating your pussy like his life is depending on it and he moans like a slut while doing so. Palming himself as he tastes you on his tongue and listens to you falling apart for him. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper as you hold his hair tighter, “please, I’m so close.” 

“Yeah? You wanna cum for me? Do it, honey, do it.” 

You let go, pushing away all the thoughts that are telling you how wrong this is, you cum hard and he moans and continues to lick you, his eyes roll back, he enjoys every fucking second of this. 

“I haven’t even fucked you and your legs are already shaking.” 

You open your eyes to look at him, your chest rises up and down heavily, sweat coating your forehead already, you swallow, pushing yourself up, you get on your hands and knees and crawl towards him, watching as he takes his shirt off. You grab him by his belt and pull him in. 

You look up at him through hooded eyes, your hair is a mess, your skin is hot, you’re half naked, the only item left on you is your skimpy little skirt, he wants to fuck you while you are wearing it. 

“Can I suck your cock?” You ask, sliding your hand up his body, “I love sucking cock.” 

His eyes widen and he almost chokes on his spit, how can you look at him so innocently and speak such filthy words? 

“I-I… huh?” 

Nancy was different, sure she sucked him off but she didn’t really seem to be excited to do it, you though? You want it, for your own pleasure. 

“You love sucking cocks?” 

The look on his face almost makes you giggle, almost. 

“Mhmm.” 

“How many cocks have you sucked before?” He asks in curiosity. 

You unbuckle his belt slowly, eying all the moles on his skin, his chest hair, his toned arms, the growing mustache. Steve is hot. Has he always been this hot?  

“Take your pants off, Steve.” 

“Answer the question first and then I’ll take them off.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Before Jonathan? Just two.” 

“Oh, who was it?” 

“Take your pants off and I’ll tell you.” 

He takes them off instantly, kicking his shoes off and throwing his pants somewhere. 

“Well the first guy… you don’t know him, I met him when I went to visit a friend in Chicago,” you shrug. 

He raises his brows, nodding, “the second guy?” 

A smirk grows on your face, you lick your lips and place your hand on his dick, rubbing your palm over his boxers. He shudders, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he moans. 

“Eddie Munson.” 

His eyes widen at your admission, lips parting in surprise, “w-what? Eddie Munson, th-the f–”

“Yes, Eddie Munson!” You snap, not letting him finish the sentence. “I sucked him off in the bathroom after lunch break, Jason Carver was being mean to him and I felt bad for him.” 

“So you cheered him up by sucking his dick?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he's jealous. 

“Yeah, I mean who wouldn’t want to get his dick sucked by the head cheerleader?” You giggle, “he really liked it, came back for more.” 

“And then what?” 

You lean closer and kiss his hip bone and his stomach, trailing your lips up to his chest until you're kneeling on the bed in front of him, placing your hand on his chest and your lips on his neck, you kiss his neck the way he did to you earlier. 

“He fucked me in his van, in the bathroom at school, in the janitor’s closet, behind the bleachers, he fucked me hard.” 

Steve moans, he feels your cold piercing against his skin, his hand slide down to your waist. 

“I bet you can’t fuck me the way he fucked me.” You mumble as you lean back down again, tugging at his boxers, you slide them down his legs and you gasp. His cock slaps against his stomach, pre cum leaking from his tip. 

“Oh.” Is all you manage to say as you stare at his cock. Suddenly you look intimidated, your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen, “t-that’s not gonna fit.” 

Steve chuckles darkly, gripping your jaw, he caresses your cheek, “oh, we’ll make it fit, honey.” 

“You still wanna suck it?” He asks.

You nod, whining when he puts his hand on your head, guiding you towards him. 

“It’s all yours.” 

You wrap your much smaller hand around his dick, stroking him a few times before you begin to tease him with your tongue, swirling it around the tip, you close your eyes and enjoy the sound of his moans.

“O-Oh fuck,” he murmurs. Gripping your hair tightly, he looks down at you, watching as you take more of him, his cock disappearing in your mouth, inch by inch until it hits the back of your throat. 

“Jesus fuck….” 

“Mhmmm,” you moan around him, hollowing your cheeks as you begin to suck him off. 

“Shit, stop…” He whines, tugging at your hair, “I’m not gonna last if you do that, I-I need to cum inside of you.” 

You don’t listen to him, instead you continue to suck him off eagerly, moaning and whimpering in pleasure, you arch your back, cupping his balls–

“Fuck!” He whimpers, basically shoving you off of him, “you little slut, I said I’m not gonna last.” 

You pout at him, “but I want to taste you too.” 

He stares at you bewildered. What the fuck? He never thought you would be like this but god, does he love it. 

“Later,” he says as he pushes you down and crawls on top of you, cupping your cheeks, his nose brushes against yours, “taste yourself instead,” he smirks before he kisses you again. 

The kiss is nothing near soft, it’s rough and needy. Your teeth clash, your tongues meet and you both moan and groan desperately. He pushes your skirt up higher, wrapping your legs around his waist, he takes his aching cock in his hand, sliding it between your slick folds, causing you both to moan. 

“Please, please… Fuck me, Steve. Make me feel something, please.” 

You beg and you plead, you arch your back and you pull him closer. He looks at you, truly looks at you for the first time. You’re beautiful, pretty, cute. You’re cute, even as you lay there looking up at him like a needy whore. He furrows his brows, watching the way your lips part, your pretty eyes staring into his, your soft hand touches his shoulder. 

What is he doing? 

What has he been doing all this time? 

“I got you, fuck, I got you.” 

He concentrates on you, on the look on your face as he pushes inside of you for the very first time. 

You whine and you bit your lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. You raise your head, looking down, you watch how his cock disappears in your pussy. Tears spring to your eyes as he stretches you open. 

“Poor baby, can’t take my big cock huh?” He teases with a smirk on his face that quickly falls again when you clench around him, causing him to stop moving, “f-fuck.” 

“Keep moving, Steve, please.”

He leans down, burying his face in your neck, he finally pushes all the way in. He says your name so filthily, it only makes you clench around him again. 

He curses at you as he begins to move, pushing himself back up again, he places both his hands beside you. 

“Pound my pussy, Steve, ruin me.” 

He smirks at your words and pulls out, looking down to see his glistening cock pushing back into your tight hole again. It makes his stomach flutter. 

“Such a good fucking pussy.” 

“Mhmm, you’re big, biggest cock I've ever had.” 

He only gives you a cocky grin in return. He knows he’s big. 

He grabs your boobs roughly and finally, he begins to fuck you like you wanted him too. 

“Ah– Steve, fuck… don’t stop!” 

He begins to pound your pussy in the most disrespectful way possible, squelching noises and your whines echo through the room. He watches your fucked out expression, he watches the way your pretty face scrunches up in pleasure, the way your screw your eyes shut. All you can do is moan and whimper and all he can do is stare at you in awe. 

He presses his hand on your lower stomach, pushing down on it, “you feel me, baby?” He asks, kissing your lips, “you feel my cock inside of you?” 

You nod, whimpering pathetically. 

You feel him, you feel him everywhere. His cock is splitting you open so perfectly, fucking you in a way only a man can. 

“Byers is a fucking idiot, stupid boy doesn’t know how to handle a woman,” he grunts as he thrusts into your roughly, “he’s fucking missing out. Shit baby, you’ve got the most perfect little pussy, so fucking tight and wet for me.” 

“S-Steve…” 

“I’m gonna fucking cum inside of you, gonna breed that little pussy and make you mine, gonna fill you up with my cum, over and over again until you’re f-fucking pregnant, gonna show those fuckers what they missed.” 

“P-Please,” you moan. 

“You’d like that huh? You’d love to get pregnant by the guy you hate?” 

“Mhmm,” you whine, you reach for his hands, dragging them up to your neck, “choke me, daddy.” 

His eyes widen and he fucking whimpers, his dick is throbbing inside of you and you know he is close. 

“God, you’re fucking filthy,” he grunts, wrapping his hands around your throat, “call me that again.” 

“Daddy.” 

He fucks you harder, rougher, faster and deeper. He wants you, he needs you. He is desperate for you. 

You put your hands around his wrists, looking up at him through the tears, “harder.” 

He gives you what you want, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You move your hips, meeting his thrusts. Tears stream down your face and you can no longer hold the sobs in. 

“Cum inside of me, Steve.” 

Your walls flutter around him and his hold on you tightens, “y-you want me to cum inside of you–”

“Please, I need it!” 

His hips stutter and he can no longer hold back, he slams his lips against yours, moving one hand down, his fingers graze your sensitive nipples for a moment, he touches your stomach, your hips and then his fingertips find your clit, rubbing fast circles on it. He listens to the way your moans grow high pitched as you cum around him. 

“I’m cumming, f-fuck,” he murmurs against your lips as he spills inside of you, coating your walls with his seed. 

You both whimper in pleasure. He continues to thrust in and out of you slowly, for a moment and then he slumps against you, letting go of your throat and letting his face fall against your chest, his throbbing cock still inside of you. 

You both need a moment to calm down from this. 

Surprisingly, Steve doesn’t push off of you and pretend like nothing happened. He just continues to lay there, on your chest, tracing your skin with his rough hands. 

And you, you play with his hair, not a single thought of your ex boyfriend or your best friend. All you think about is Steve. How good he made you feel, how pretty he looked when he ate your pussy, how he kissed you, how he smells. 

“I think you almost fucked the hate I have for you out of me.” 

He snorts at you, “wow, very romantic.” 

“Oh we’re being romantic now?” 

He looks up at you, “I mean, I’m still inside of you and you are playing with my hair so yeah.” 

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes but are unable to fight the smile off your face. 

He grins, “no one ever called me daddy.” 

“Someone else will call you daddy in 9 months if you don’t get me the morning after pill.” 

You almost expect him to grow pale but instead he laughs nervously.

“Babies can’t talk, honey.” 

“Huh?” 

“You said in 9 months, are you telling me newborns can speak now?” 

“I was joking!” You mumble. 

“Mhmm, sure you were,” he chuckles. 

For a moment, the room is filled with silence. All you hear is the sound of the music from the party, the laughter and the loud voices. The smell of sex lingers in the room, the smell of him lingers on you. 

“You know what? I think we should’ve done that a long time ago,” Steve admits, “in fact I think we should do it again.” 

You smirk at him, “to get back at them or because you just wanna be called daddy again?” 

For a moment, his face grows serious and he finds himself staring at you longingly, “I just wanna do it again, not to get back at them, fuck them.” 

“Let’s do it then,” you whisper, “but take me home first.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

A week ago, you would’ve laughed if someone told you that this would happen. That you would break up with your cheating boyfriend, lose a best friend you had known since childhood and fuck the man you hated half of your life. 

Yet here you are, letting Steve Harrington help you get dressed, letting him steal kisses, letting him slap your ass on the way out. 

You walked into his room hating him and you walked out of here, well, hating him a little less.

You both got betrayed by people you loved, deeply. You lost them but at least you had found each other.  

In a perfect world you would be together. 

Maybe this can be a perfect world after all.

-

tagging some faves @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things angst #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine

[slvt4felix]

I Could Never Hate You

Pairing -> ninth member!reader x Lee Minho WC -> ~3,300 words Includes -> hurt/comfort, angst, enemies to lovers, hyunjin's a meanie, reader has anxiety, minho struggles with his feelings, cringy nickname use, yelling, swearing Summary -> The rest of the group members are over the silly rivalry between you and Minho. They decide to take matters into their own hands. However, their little game takes a turn for the worse when one of the members betrays your trust. Some may call it destiny…the way it leads you straight into the arms of the one you would never expect. Author's Note -> This is my first time posting on here, so hopefully this isn't too rough. Also, I swear I don’t hate Hyunjin. I love him to death. It was just necessary for the plot… anywaysss hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist ♡ Next Part

“I swear to God if you guys don’t open this door right now!” You yell as you pound on the hotel room down the hall from yours. There hasn’t been a reply, but you know that Hyunjin and Felix are in there. The two of them are always locked in their hotel rooms the night before your shows. They try to get as much sleep as possible for the next day.

‘They are definitely laughing their asses off right now,’ you think to yourself. It was just a stupid prank to them. Something to get you and Minho to finally get along again, but they just don’t get it. You had tried for so long to make it work, but Minho was just too stubborn. For heaven’s sake, you guys used to be the best of friends. One day he just started being cruel. Ignoring your texts, saying snarky things under his breath, scoffing every time you accidentally messed a move up. It escalated to the point where you no longer talk anymore. Truly, it is not your fault and they don’t seem to get it. He refuses to say anything about what happened, completely disregarding the fact that you were ever close enough to share your deepest secrets.

You turn around to leave, realizing the two boys were probably never going to open the door. You hear the lock click and spin back to see the annoyingly beautiful face of Felix. Although he wasn’t outright laughing at you, he was putting little effort in trying to hide his smile.

“Hey, what are you so upset for? I didn’t notice anything wrong on the bus earlier?” Felix asks. You just stare back dumbfounded.

“Why the fuck would you ever put me in a room with him?” you spit pushing past Felix into his room, “Don’t you dare look at me like that, you know how he treats me.”

Hyunjin just looks at you from his spot on a queen bed closest to the window. He looks shocked, as if he hadn’t expected you to actually put up a fight against the sleeping arrangements.

"How is that our fault?" Hyunjin questions. He seems like he may be genuinely asking, but you know him better than that. You have always been closer to him than the other members, especially after all the things that went down with Minho. Hyunjin was always the one to comfort you. The first to step up when your anxiety got to be too much. So, it was obvious that the members did have something to do with it, and it wasn't just an unfortunate fluke.

"I saw the way you guys all ran to claim your rooms while I was still collecting my suitcase. Don't act stupid. I know you know what's going on," you say back in hopes to get him to at least explain what their plan was. Maybe you could reason with them and get one of the boys to switch. Heck, you'd even be willing to sleep on the couch in Hyunjin and Felix's room, but it's starting to seem like they don't even want you in their room in the first place.

You hear Felix close the door behind you, but it's all blocked out as you watch Hyunjin roll his eyes at you. While this may seem like a typical Hyunjin action, it just didn't feel right. He tries to be more gentle with you than the other boys. After confiding many of your secrets and insecurities in him, he knows to control his face around you. Yet, it's beginning to look like he's forgotten all about that tonight.

"Yeah, I'm the stupid one..." he mumbles under his breath. With every sentence exchanged, the tension in the room grows thicker. You almost feel bad putting the other poor boy in the room through this. You can practically feel him stiffen with every word spoken.

"Hyunjin-" Felix starts but is cut off by a sharp look from the man himself. You know it's starting to go too far if Felix is getting upset, but Hyunjin doesn't seem to care.

"Why are you so angry right now?" you ask him, praying the question doesn't fire him up more. Maybe he's just having a really bad day, or maybe he just wants to be alone and can't deal with your problems.

"I'm not angry," he starts, "you're just making a big deal out of absolutely nothing." By the end of it he begins to raise his voice, another thing he knows you aren't a fan of. You take a step back, a little confused at his ignorance. He's been with you through all the fights, why doesn't he understand how big of a deal this is to you?

As you're still trying to make sense of his previous statement, his voice quiets down, and he looks back down at his phone as he whispers, "Just like you always do."

"What is that even supposed to mean?" you ask, scared for the response. He glances up sharply, making true eye contact for the first time tonight.

"You're always crying over stupid shit, and I really can't handle it anymore,” he states angrily, his eyes not leaving yours the entire time. He finally breaks eye contact, and the tension explodes, painting the whole room red.

As dramatic as it sounds, it's like a knife to your heart, or perhaps more accurately a stab in the back. You know exactly what he means by that. It's like he was aiming for your most sensitive spots. With your anxiety, you tend to panic over things that don't usually matter much in other people's minds. Every time you have an anxiety attack or are just freaking out about something, you usually try to hide it. You worry that your friends won't take you seriously or will make fun of you over something they consider 'not a big deal'. You've confided in Hyunjin over this topic before. He's helping you get over that and come to them when you need help. So why is he now turning on you? Was it all an act before?

You feel your eyes start to tear up, but you hold them back. He cannot see you cry.

"Fuck you," you say, attempting to put venom behind it, but all that comes out is your shaky voice.

"Y/n, wait," Felix says sympathetically as you go to leave the room. Normally, you would stop and let Felix comfort you, but suddenly everything is feeling just a little too heavy and you can't seem to look him in the eye any longer. You stride out of the room, keeping your shoulders straight without even glancing back. You just need to stay strong until you make it into the hallway. You slam the door behind you despite typically being the one to argue when the other members to it. Your eyes are blurring too fast at this point to even recognize the fact that you probably should've shut it a bit quieter. It is a hotel and noise complaints are a thing, but, honestly, that is the least of your worries at the moment. You just keep replaying back the fight in your head trying to figure out what you did wrong. It had to be something, right?

You start down the hallway, cursing when you realize your room is at the other end of the hall. You hope the other boys can't hear your sobs, especially the two you just departed from. As much as you want to be comforted, it feels like you're past the point of no return and just want to be alone. You try to stifle your cries a bit with your hand, but it doesn't do much. You're heads getting a little too light, you're breathing getting harder to control. Your hands are shaking, and it seems like the crying is just starting. Some may call you sensitive, but when the tears start you simply begin to spiral. There's very little that can calm you down at that point. Hyunjin usually has to take you somewhere and help you take deep breaths especially before your concerts. But he's the one who started this mess. So, what are you supposed to do now?

You finally make it to your hotel room, barely being able to read the numbers, and you start to dig around in your pockets. You start to panic as you struggle to find your key card, but eventually you grasp the small rectangular piece of plastic and open the door.

Once inside, you shut the door, a bit calmer this time, and fall back against it. The only thing on your mind being the fact that you are finally in your own room, alone. You put your hands over your face, trying to quiet some of your senses. In the haste to get out of the situation, you completely failed to remember the problem that had started it all.

Minho is sitting in one of the beds; he had plenty of time to choose considering you just dropped your suitcase off and stormed off upon realizing the two of you would be rooming together. He's all cozy in his sweat pants and t-shirt, obviously thankful for your abrupt disappearance. He looks up, shocked to see you re-entering the room. He plans to make a jab of some sort, but immediately pauses upon seeing your state. It seems like you haven't even noticed that he's in there yet. He's never really seen you like this before, or at least not since he started pushing you away. Putting that aside, he accepts defeat realizing that you need someone. You need him.

Your eyes are covered as you cry quietly into your hands, pushing your head back into the wood behind you. You flinch slightly upon feeling strong arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you away from the hard door. However, you soon relax into the arms, enjoying the feeling of safety flood your system. The man is warm and gentle as he presses you against him, pushing your head into the crook of his neck.

"Follow my breathing," he whispers in your ear, sending goosebumps from your head to your toes. You try to listen to him, but all of your senses are so overwhelmed that you can't seem to focus on anything. Feeling like a fool, you begin to cry harder, immediately sending you back to the fight with Hyunjin.

"Honey," he starts, "you just have to take a deep breath. I don't want you to pass out on me." Hearing the quiet voice in your ear helps bring your mind back to the present. Trying to focus on the instructions, you begin to notice the chest rising and falling slowly against yours. You can even feel the man's calm heart beat against your racing one.

Following the normally simple order, you try to take a deeper inhale resulting in a few hiccups and more tears. One of the arms around your shoulder falls and his hand begins to rub your back gently. As you focus on the sensation, your breathing starts to even out, just as Minho had hoped.

Once you are in a slightly better state, he moves you over to the bed. Setting you down on the edge, he kneels in front of you and softly pulls your hands away from your face. You instinctively bow your head, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep from facing the man in front of you.

Minho reaches his hand out, bringing your face back up towards his. You slowly open your eyes at the gentle touch. He's looking right back at you, a soft expression covering his face. He hasn't looked at you like that in years. He practically lights up when your eyes meet his.

A smile grows on his face, as he quietly says, "There you go, kitten." Your face flushes at the nickname, and you hear Minho giggle softly at your blushing cheeks. He used to call you that all the time. A fan had once greeted the two of you at a fan meet saying how you both had the same energy as cats. So from that day on, he had called you that nickname constantly, earning well-deserved teasing from the other boys. Yet, it had all stopped out of nowhere.

'He doesn't care about you anymore,' you remind yourself. You pull away from him roughly and stand up from the bed. You take a few steps away from him, the comfort you had felt being ripped away in seconds. This was too confusing. He can't ignore you for years and suddenly act normal. That isn't how this works.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you ask him, just wanting some sort of explanation. He slowly stands up, his soft look from before transforming into a look of pure regret.

"What are you talking about? You're upset and I care about you," he calmly explains, obviously ignoring the elephant in the room. But you can see it in his eyes; the nerves, the regret, and the sadness painting itself across his irises.

"You hate me,” you say, leaving no room for discussion. You were sick of being left in the dark and being turned on. You just want to know, what happened?

"You don't really believe that do you?" he asks as his body language changes. He reaches a hand up, pulling a little too roughly against his hair as he looks down at the ground.

"I mean-" you start to say but are cut off by a small sniffle coming from across you.

The culprit looks up at you again, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Minho never cries. It's just one of those things. So he wipes them away and says the last words you would ever imagine him speaking to you.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers genuinely, "I never meant to make you feel that way, but I guess that's what it's come to, hasn't it?"

You stand stiffly, staring at him. You had never seen the man look so defeated. You are even more confused about where the two of you stand than you have ever been.

"But I don't get it, you're just so mean. I don't know how you couldn't hate me."

"I could never hate you,” he states staring at you. His eyes are so deep that you can see exactly what he's feeling, and you realize, this is it. He's an open book. This may be the one time you get to see under the surface of Lee Minho since those days of friendship all those years ago.

"Then why did you push me away?" you ask, taking advantage of his state.

"I was just so scared. I thought you would hate me if you found out..." he trails off. You simply wait for him to finish his sentence, but he never does. He just looks back at you in hopes that you understand what he's trying to say. A silence builds, and Minho takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I love you and I was just too scared in case it would ruin the group," he says, finally letting the truth escape after years of secrets. The shock of the statement leaves you speechless, simply staring at your old best friend.

After a few seconds of building tension, you can’t help but start to giggle, leading to near hysterics with more tears springing to your eyes. You had thought you had cried all of them out, but it looks like you were wrong. There's no way that's the reason. If only he had been honest with his feelings, then you would've never been in this situation in the first place.

He looks surprised at your laughing, and his whole body seems to deflate.

'Hopefully he doesn't think I'm laughing at him', you think. There's no way they had messed up communication that bad to let it get to this point.

"You should have said that, Minho. I was so in love with you," you state gently, trying not to bewilder the poor man. He looks up, and there's pure excitement on his face. It's beautiful to see compared to his earlier expressions, and you're reminded of all those little reasons you love him. All those reasons that have been buried down due to his obliviousness.

"Really?" he says, taking a step closer to you. Your cheeks heat up upon realizing that you really did just reveal one of your darkest secrets.

He takes another step closer, his face now only inches from yours. You feel his arms wrap sweetly around your waist. You glance down at his lips; they're slightly chapped, but honestly, it's just all part of what makes Minho, Minho. Your eyes go back up to meet his, and you can see the tension and nerves drawn upon his face. You quickly close the distance, making the decision you should have made all those years ago.

Minho doesn't pull away, instead immediately melting into the kiss, bringing one hand up to delicately cup your cheek. This may be one of the softest moments you have ever witnessed from Minho, and man do you want more.

You don't kiss for long, it's short and sweet, but it means so much more. Within it is everything you had wished you could've said to each other since the beginning.

You both pull back, a laugh leaving both of your mouths as you take in how outrageous the situation is. He pulls you close again, his head falling on your shoulder.

"I promise, I will never ever treat you like that again. You mean so much to me," he whispers. You bring a hand up to pet the back of his hair, pulling back just enough to give him a kiss on the cheek.

The two of you eventually pull away as your eyelids begin to droop. You realize how late it has gotten, neither of you noticing with all the drama that has unfolded. You quickly change into your pajamas and get ready to go to sleep.

You end up in the same bed with your head lying on his chest, his fingers running through your hair. Despite how sleepy you both feel, you know there is so much more to talk about and neither of you will be able to fall asleep.

Minho breaks the silence, asking you the dreaded question, "So, what happened? Did someone hurt you?"

"Hyunjin and I fought. He said some very hurtful things." I reply sadly, the memories of the fight resurfacing.

"You two are so close, I'm sure he didn't mean it. You know how upset he gets when we’re on tour for so long. He gets aggravated having to be around us all the time, but it was still messed up for him to be so mean to you."

You laugh at his response, "Yeah, like you can talk."

"Hey!" he says dramatically. You both giggle, and despite the tough topic, the tension seems to melt away. It always used to be that way with Minho. It's as if the two of you were made for each other. Everything just felt so much better and easier around him. Suddenly, everything in life was a lot sweeter.

"But seriously, don't worry about it too much, kitten. Felix will take care of it, and Hyunjinnie will be running back to you by the morning."

Part 2 out now!

#slvt4felix #stray kids #skz #lee know #hyunjin #felix #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #enemies to lovers #hurt/comfort #skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids imagine #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #stray kids ninth member #skz ninth member #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member #lee minho

[princeoftheeternalbog]

OP characters reacting to you kissing them and running away (here's part 2) established relationship ish. Feel free to ask for other characters.

ALSO I've definitely seen another creator who did this idea with op characters but I can't remember who so if someone could tell me I would really love to credit them :(. I tried to make mine different but still it's the principal of it.

Slightly suggestive in some parts so mdni.

Luffy

Thinks its a new game like tag but with kisses and it ends up actually becoming one. You'll both wait for the other to become distracted and then you'll strike, planting a kiss and sprinting off around the ship or the island you're docked at. It's not hard to chase after each other because the trails of laughter are so easy to follow and it always ends up with one of you on the floor from a tackle or something similar.

Zoro

Gobsmacked. Genuinely his jaw drops especially if there's other people there and you get away so easily only because of how long it takes his brain to boot back online. Oh but he doesn't let it go. He waits until you're in a similar situation, either talking to someone or doing work and he sneaks up to pull you into a deep, intense kiss that leaves your knees weak. Like he fully puts the moves on you, hand on your lower back, other hand cradling your jaw, hes literally licking into your mouth and then he just disappears for the rest of the day. Asshole.

Sanji

You are not running away from this man. Not in a scary way but he can't do just one short kiss, as soon as you're leaning in his hands settle firm on your hips and that grip is not something you can wiggle out of. You can try to run away but he just laughs at you and pulls you closer to him, ofc he would let go if you actually wanted him to but he knows what you're trying to pull. Says something like "Oh? Trying to run darlin? How sweet." swoon- Just don't even bother, he will always try to win if your affection is involved.

Nami

Honestly thinks nothing of it. A lot of your affection is sweet but quick because yk pirate life. But if you look disappointed from her lack of reaction then she catches on quickly and starts playing along. So sweet even though she can be scary. Oh but don't try to run if she's initiating, like Sanji you aren't going to get out of her grip. If she wants to shower you with affection, she is going to thank you very much. If you do manage to slip away she's surprisingly quick and surprisingly stealthy. Like you'll think you got away and you walk into a room and she drops down from the ceiling like fucking batman.

(maybe not that dramatic but shes good)

Robin

She lets you run away but only because she knows she could summon a mouth to kiss you at any time and in any place so she's content knowing she always wins. Also thinks it's really cute when you try to rile her up like this, she just finds it so endearing and usually ends up playing into it anyways- "My, my, aren't you getting so bold my love". Sometimes will purposefully trip you up while you're doing these antics so you can't get away or so you're plan is ruined, absolutely pretends she has no idea what you're talking about.

Usopp

Highly likely he was doing something when it happened. Highly likely he dropped something onto his foot as a result. Yowls like an injured cat and then when his brain catches up it's like steam comes out of his ears. Stands there with his mouth open and pointing at you like you betrayed his entire family. Very funny and very cute. Also a possibility of him smacking you out of fearful instinct in which case he'd probably cry his eyes out and beg for forgiveness. Nami makes it worse by punching him in the face for hitting you. A mess all around if you get him at the wrong time so just be careful.

Ace

Immediately sprinting after you, it's actually a bit scary. But like hey he's not letting you get away with just one measly little peck on the cheek. Absolutely nobody on the crew helps you unless it would be funny, i.e. someone tripping Ace up so he faceplants. If it's near the beginning of your relationship then you likely go back out of concern which he takes as a chance to catch you, but if it's later then you already know this man's antics and you know he wouldn't be injured just from tripping so you use it as an opportunity to get away💪. You still have to kiss it better later though when hes whining to you about how cruel you are for leaving him in the dust(he would do the same).

Izou

Don't bother. As soon as you turn he snatches you by the back of your collar and pulls you onto his lap, proceeds to resume his conversation like nothing is wrong but his arms are firm around your waist and his cheeks and ears are a particularly pretty shade of red. Once his conversation is over and the other person has left, he turns his attention to you with a very pointed look. He's not actually irritated but if he enjoys watching you squirm that's his business. "If you wanted a kiss you should've just asked my love" and then he's practically devouring your mouth. Doesn't care about the other people in the vicinity. Doesn't care that he's smudging his lipstick. Just wants to fluster you more than you flustered him.

Marco

Do you even want to run away from this man lets be real- anyways.

If he's doing work then he just laughs and lets you get away with it, tallys it in his head for later, but if he's free and hes in a good mood then he absolutely plays into it. Will chase after you. Will cheat by using his powers. Its a bit scary but also very attractive, somehow ends with him pinning you in some way (☺️), looks very smug when he wins. Like you'll end up flat on your back, legs trapped under his and his hands restraining yours and he's just grinning- "Oh what a surprise. You were so easy to catch-yoi" Yeah yeah shut up. Absolutely asks what his reward is just to see your shocked face (absolutely asks again later when you two are alone).

Sabo

VILLAIN!!!!!! Sorry only way i can describe how devious and obsessed this man would be. Like Izou he tries to snatch you immediately but you planned for this so you manage to spring out of his grip in time. You falter a bit at his reaction then because he just blinks at you for a while. You start to feel a bit nervous and when he finally grins at you, you definitely feel nervous. "Playing like that are we honey? How about I give you a headstart then?" Evil. You know he's going to catch you. He knows he's going to catch you. He's just giving you false hope but yk hope is hope so you take the chance.

You don't get far. It's not even fair how quickly he catches up to you and gets you underneath him, it takes him barely any effort, not even a strand of hair is out of place. Spends the next 10 minutes kissing you on the floor of the hallway until Koala comes back and promptly drags him back into his office.

#one piece x reader #marco the phoenix x reader #portagas d. ace x reader #x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #nami x reader #nico robin x reader #ussop x reader #izou x reader #sabo x reader #op headcanons #one piece x gn reader #gn reader #usopp x reader #one piece fics #monster trio x reader

[roosterr]

only you

note: him. that is all.

pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k

summary: you and soap get to talking about your love life. gaz gets jealous.

warnings: little bit of miscommunication, jealousy, you and gaz make out, the mildest of spice

ao3

sleepless nights were not a rarity for you. it comes with the territory in this line of work, unfortunately, something you and your fellow sergeants have in common. it also wasn't out of place for the three of you to find each other in the rec room well into the early hours of the morning, which is exactly where you'd ended up tonight.

perhaps it was the result of the insomnia that had kept you up far later than your mind could handle, but you'd foolishly divulged that you hadn't been on an actual date in a depressingly long time – soap seemed to find that far more amusing than you would've liked, and quickly took it upon himself to demonstrate his unique ability to make you wish you'd kept your mouth shut.

"c'mon, you cannae be serious," soap wears a shit-eating grin as he leans forward in the armchair, leaning his elbows on his knees as you roll your eyes. gaz stays quiet beside you, which you're silently grateful for, but you do feel his eyes on the side of your head.

"i just don't have the time for it," you sigh, resting your elbow on the arm of the sofa and dropping your hand into your palm.

it's true, your job didn't allow room for much of a social life, what with being sent all over the world for months at a time– really, it was a miracle you did anything except work.

that wasn't the main reason, he was sitting on your other side, but you'd be damned before you revealed that to soap,  of all people.

"well, if you can't get any, then there's nae hope for the rest of us." soap chuckles, reaching over and playfully nudging your arm.

you let out a groan, shoving his hand away and dragging your own down your face. "shut up, soap, that's not how it is…"

he laughs again at your reaction, still showing no signs of relenting. "maybe i'll have to take you out, then."

"on what? a pipe-bomb masterclass?" you scoff, the grin on your lips betraying your attempt at looking unimpressed. both of them laugh at that, soap raising his hands in a gesture that says 'so what?'.

"dinnae try'n tell me that wouldn't be an excitin' date." he reasons, tilting his head and quirking his brow at you. you narrow your eyes, humming in faux-consideration and playfully tapping a finger on your chin.

"for a pyromaniac, maybe…" gaz grumbles from beside you. the sofa moves under you as he shifts his weight around, and if you weren't so tired you would've noticed the way his voice trailed off in such an uncharacteristic manner.

"maybe," you laugh, shaking your head at the very idea of it, and the fact that soap definitely would if he could convince someone to go along with it. "that's if i don't wind up dead by the end of it."

"i wouldn't let anythin' happen to ya, bonnie, cross my heart." he grins, making an x over his chest with one finger.

"but you'd still make a homemade bomb right in front of me?" you lift an eyebrow at his teasing expression.

"my two favourite things; a good explosive  and a good view,"

"oh god, shut the fuck up." you groan, reaching to swat the back of his head as you stand up. "that's enough for tonight, i need sleep."

"think i'll call it a night too." gaz mumbles half-heartedly from his spot beside you, quickly standing and making his way to the door without another word. you frown, confused by his sudden coldness, waving to soap and calling a quiet 'goodnight' before you step out into the hallway after him.

"night, bonnie, i'll pick you up at eight!" soap calls, loud enough for you to hear in the corridor, earning a soft chuckle and another shake of your head as you catch up to gaz.

he doesn’t even spare you a glance as you trail behind him, marching ahead with a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. his abrupt switch in attitude concerned you; he was fine not even five minutes ago, what could’ve happened to change that? 

"you okay, gaz?" you ask with a hesitance that feels strange directed at him, someone you’re usually so confident around. for a moment there's no response, but he does slow down slightly, taking a right into a corner of the building with the lights shut off. you follow still, growing more concerned with every second that passes.

you’re about to ask again, but a few paces into the shadows gaz turns sharply on his heel, catching you off guard with how suddenly he stops walking and causing you to bump into his chest. 

"gaz…?" you utter, your quiet voice a ripple in the stillness of the empty corridor. he meets your eye as you look quizzically back at him, a conflicted expression taking over his features.

you open your mouth to say something more, but before you can get the words out he's laying a hand on your shoulder and gently pushing you against the wall. the hand on you shifts to rest in the crook of your neck and shoulder, while he leans the other on the wall with his hand next to your head.

your breath catches in your throat, and your previous exhaustion is completely forgotten. the way he's looking at you, staring straight through you with that deep brown gaze and right into your soul, it's like a spell has fallen over you.

kyle leans even closer, caging you in with his broad shoulders and blocking out the world around him, so he's the only thing you can focus on– as if you could possibly think about anything else when he's touching you so tenderly.

"don't go out with him…" he utters, his eyes flickering back and forth as they search yours. the pause between you hangs heavy in the air. when your questioning expression doesn't change, he takes his bottom lip between his teeth and drops his gaze, letting his eyes fall shut as he continues. "don't fuckin' go out with him, please…"

"wh…" you stutter, trailing off as you wonder inwardly what the hell he's talking about; and then it hits you.

there's another pause, and you swallow thickly at the realisation that he was talking about your earlier conversation with soap; that he was reacting like this because he thought you would actually take johnny seriously. "kyle… he was joking."

"i'm not." he mutters in response, shifting closer again by resting his forearm against the wall instead of his hand. he's looking at you again, with heavy eyes that keep you entranced by him. you can't help the uneven breath that escapes you under his intense gaze and the way his thumb begins to stroke your jaw. "let me take you out, i'll give you anything you want if you'll have me, love."

it's hard to concentrate on anything other than the sparks his touch creates as he caresses your skin. you're sure he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his fingertips. there's no one but him in this moment, the minimal distance between you still somehow feeling too great as you subconsciously lean your face closer to his.

the silence and your heartbeat are so loud in your ears, you almost don’t hear his next words.

"can i kiss you?" he asks, little more than a whisper, tilting his head so his lips ghost over yours. you breath another shuddering sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed as you nod almost imperceptibly.

"please."

time seems to slow as the word hangs in the air, the warmth radiating from him seeps into your skin as he closes the final distance and presses his lips against yours.

the hand on your neck travels up to your face, cradling your cheek with a touch so soft, almost disbelieving, like he expected you to disappear at any moment.

"i'm yours, love," he mumbles against you, never straying too far from your lips as he caresses your cheek, "i'm all yours…"

you loop your arms around his neck, knocking his hat loose in the process, but neither of you pay it any mind as it lands on the floor at your feet – too lost in yourselves to care. in the brief moment you part for air, a breathy whisper of his name escapes you, and as if a switch has flipped, his mouth is back against yours with a fervour that you struggle to keep up with.

he's running his hand up and down the length of your waist, your hip, hiking your leg up and around his side, dragging his touch over your thigh, like he can't get enough of you. it's intoxicating, the way you pant into each other, flush against one another yet still itching to get closer.

your lungs burn as he pulls away again, just enough to whisper, his voice low and needy, "god– the things you do to me, sweetheart,"

his touch is reverent as he takes you in; your touch, your skin, your taste, the sounds he pulls from you as he kneads the flesh of your waist under your shirt. it sends your head spinning, the blood rushing in your ears stopping you from thinking about anything other than the feel of his lips on yours.

you trail one of your hands down his body, over his chest and down to the hem of his shirt, where you slip your fingers under to rest against his toned stomach. his skin is hot under your hand, drawing another groan of your name from him, and he slowly moves his hands up your own abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake of his fingers–

"awh, c'mon!"

the sound of soap's voice startles you into knocking your head against the wall behind you, both yours and kyle's hands darting back from their less than appropriate positions.

you look over to the scott, a sheepish grin on your face at his disapproving face. kyle buries his face into your shoulder, a groan of both embarrassment and annoyance escaping his chest. you resist the urge to laugh, instead running your hands up and down his back in an attempt to comfort him.

"fucks sake, soap…" kyle grumbles, wrapping his arms back around your waist. he doesn't look up at your friend, opting to keep his undoubtedly embarrassed expression hidden by your neck.

"think i'll have to cancel that date after all." you cant keep the amusement off your face when you speak, earning a dramatic eye roll from soap.

"too right, ye animals…" he mutters, shaking his head in exasperation as he disappears around the corner again. neither of you move as you listen to his footsteps retreating down the corridor, staying frozen in place until it's quiet once more.

only once you're sure johnny's gone does the laugh you've been stifling bubble up from your chest, escaping into the otherwise quiet night as kyle finally lifts his head to meet your gaze.

he eyes the bashful smile pulling at your lips and lets out a laugh of his own, pressing his forehead back to yours and letting his eyes fall closed again.

killing soap could wait until tomorrow; right now, it was just you and him, and that's how you want to keep it.

#gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #kyle gaz garrick #mw2 gaz #roosterr writes

[mediumgayitalian]

“Hide me hide me hide me hide me hide me.”

Nico blinks, watching blankly as Will ducks under his arm, situating himself behind the door and peeking around it. When Nico doesn’t move, he cranes his neck to look at him, face urgent, and says, “Close it, dude, hurry up!

“Solace!”

“Fuck,” Will curses.

Nico blinks again. He squints across the common, trying to suss out what Will’s staring at. It doesn’t take long. She’s hard to miss, especially in full armour.

“Are you…hiding from Clarisse?”

“Am I hiding from —” He scoffs. “No, I’m just behind this door for fun. Fucking obviously I’m hiding from Clarisse, Nico, now get with the program and close the damn —”

“Solace!”

Both of them jump. When Nico looks, Clarisse is already way closer than she should be. Before he can process enough to slam the door, and heedless of Will’s increasingly-harried oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods fuck fuck fuck fuck, Clarisse is closer, and closer, and then suddenly she’s barging inside, pushing Nico aside like it’s not his damn cabin.

Will groans. “Aw, come on, Clarisse!”

She doesn’t bother to humour him with words, choosing instead to grab him by the collar and drag him bodily out. Will does not make it easy, going completely limp and getting his clothes grass-stained beyond belief, because Clarisse tugs him along like a sled behind her, bouncing over every stone. Nico follows, on the grounds that it’s not being nosy if Will dragged him into it technically.

“You have siblings! You have a boyfriend!”

“And yet I’m choosing you,” Clarisse says easily. “I’ve already told Chiron. It’s a done deal, weatherboy. You’re chariot racing with me.”

Will groans, trying in vain to squirm out of Clarisse’s grip. “There is no reason for me to be your partner in the stupid chariot race, I am a healer, I am at camp to heal —”

She shakes him a little to shut him up. “All the more reason. You focus too much on one thing, brat. All you do is heal and study like a big nerd. You need to get out of your comfort zone.”

“Um, no way. I’m very comfortable in it. That’s why it’s called a comfort zone.”

“You could use some training,” Nico pipes up, and the betrayed look Will gives him would be more effective at making him feel bad if it wasn’t so funny. “Last time I tried to teach you how to use a sword you almost sliced off your own face, so.”

Clarisse looks at him with appraisal. “Maybe you do have some sense in you, di Angelo.”

Nico chooses to take that as the compliment it is.

“Ugh,” Will says dramatically, and finally manages to wrench out of Clarisse’s grip in order to embed the appropriate level of drama in his face-down flop to the floor.

Clarisse kicks him. “You’re pathetic.”

“Ugh.”

Notably, he stops protesting. She kicks him again, affectionately this time, and stomps away.

———

“If I work myself into another coma, I don’t have to chariot race,” Will says gleefully, shoving the bottles of nectar Nico hands him onto a shelf. He’s been buzzing around the infirmary all day, healing things he is meant to be healing with a band-aid and a stop being a clumsy dumbass, dumbass with hymns and salves. “I’m gonna try to cure cancer again.”

Kayla, walking by, reaches out and smacks him. “Try it and I’m crack your country CDs in half.”

Will turns to her, opening his mouth —

“Every single one of them,” she stresses, green eyes narrowed.

— and closes it again, huffing.

“I’ll find a way,” he says glumly.

Nico pats him delicately on the back. “There, there.” A pause. “I mean, personally, I can’t wait to watch you fall out of a chariot.”

The look Will shoots him is nothing short of wounded. “You think I’m so uncoordinated I’m gonna fall out of the chariot?”

“Gracefully!” assures Austin from across the infirmary, smiling supportively. He grins brightly when they turn to look, nose scrunching with the force of his smile. “I’m sure!”

Will’s scowl twitches in the face of his brother’s blind enthusiasm. (It is impossible not to be endeared by Austin. He is genuinely the sweetest kid in the entire universe. Nico even gets, to his horror, the occasional urge to squish him. Gently.) He sighs.

“Thanks, Austin.”

“Of course! Love you Will!”

The twitching scowl melts into a full smile. “Love you too, kiddo.”

———

Watching chariot race practices, very quickly, becomes Nico’s favourite pastime.

He sees, now, why Achilles would bring them up, unprompted, wistful look in his eye, every time Nico visited. There’s a beauty in the rawness of it; the whipping winds, wild horses. Squealing wheels and bending axels, open-backed and inches from death at all time. Dangerous, exhilarating. Humanity, at it’s most thrilling and old — some of the first tools, the first domestic animals, the first machines, all at once. It’s pure, raw excitement.

Also, Will falls out of the chariot, like, eight whole times. And there’s nothing funnier than watching him lose his shit at a splintered pile of wood that was once a carriage, helmet thrown to the ground in a fit of rage, accent so thick he’s literally incomprehensible. Nico never gets to see him like this. His stomach actually hurts from laughter on several occasions.

Slowly, though, he starts to get the hang of it. He’s smart — incredibly so — and when he stops spending half his time complaining, and the other half pouting, he actually gets pretty decent. He’s fast, after all, and quick to observe, to respond; the other teams struggle to land hits on him, in practice runs, and sabotage is difficult when your opponent seems to have an almost prophetic gift to see things coming.

He can’t, however, steel himself to hit back.

And therein lies the trouble.

“For fuck’s sake, Will, I’m not asking you to kill anybody,” Clarrise snaps. “You need to get your head in the game!”

Will’s shoulders curl defensively. “I know! I’m trying! It’s just —” He kicks at their broken wheel, in two clean pieces on the ground. “Do no harm.”

“Do some harm. Or I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Will brightens. “And then ask somebody else to be your partner?”

“No, and then make you my partner forever.”

“Oh.”

Will’s sullen face is hard to look at. He’s got those big, puppy dog eyes, round and sad and pouty. Not even Clarisse is immune. (And certainly not Nico, who finds himself halfway off the spectator’s stands and jogging to the tracks before he wonders what exactly, the fresh fuck, he is doing, and sprints right back.)

“Shit, Solace, don’t look like I killed your goddamn mother.” She cuffs him on the shoulder, sending him sprawling with a muffled oof. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s go again.”

Accepting the spare chariot someone wheels towards her, she pulls herself up, making space for Will to do the same. He doesn’t get on immediately, still looking miserable, but concedes eventually.

His forearms look kind of nice when he grips onto the rails for dear life, Nico notices. From a totally objective perspective.

The four practicing teams guide their horses to the starting line, running a few last minute checks. To avoid spilling any secrets or strategies, everyone uses the same practice-issue wooden chariot and wears the same armour, but it’s still obvious who’s who.

The Hephaestus team’s chariot, despite being standard issue, gleams like it’s brand-new. The wood is polished and looks to be altered, barely; a carved groove here, a sharper wing there. Nothing that could really be considered an upgrade, but definitely making the whole thing look smoother. The spears they hold promise a plethora of untold ability hidden within.

The Hermes chariot looks deceptively beat up. There’s a chunk missing from the top of the left side, and one of the wheels appears to be just slightly out of alignment. Upon careful inspection, though, Nico can see clear, hollow tubing attached along the rails and open to the back — definitely a quick rig of some sort. Base (not acid, Cecil had happily lectured him on the benefits of using a base rather than an acid when dissolving anything from steel to human flesh), if Nico has to guess, or maybe Greek fire.

The Aphrodite-Iris chariot doesn’t have to do much to look great. The whole thing seems to coast gracefully to the beginner line, and neither charioteer looks particularly bothered or preoccupied with the competition — if Nico recalls correctly, and he does, their goal is to win through “gay audacity”, which Nico does not understand but supports wholeheartedly.

Will and Clarisse’s chariot, by comparison, is pretty run-of-the-mill. They haven’t done much training with the Ares horses or the Apollo flying chariot, because Clarisse is primarily concerned with training Will — she knows the equipment is fine.

Lacy, standing at the edge of the track, puts a sparkly pink whistle to her lips and blows loudly. It’s not nearly as loud as one of Will’s sonic whistles, but it does the trick, and the teams are off in a blur of movement; Will and Clarisse in the lead, Hephaestus behind them, Aphrodite-Iris in third, and Hermes lagging slightly behind.

As they turn their first corner, positions largely unchanging, Nico hears footsteps from his left — Lou Ellen smiles at him as she climbs the stand, settling into the space he makes next to him.

“What’d I miss?” she asks, brushing dust off her hands.

He shrugs. “Not much. They were in the lead the last practice round, too, but on the last lap Hermes caught up.” He gestures to the heap that was once their practice chariot. “Julia had her sword at their wheels. They were on the inner ring, nowhere to move; the only way to get rid of them would have been to knock her arm, probably dislocate her shoulder. Will couldn’t do it.”

Lou Ellen winces. “Ah.”

There’s a ripping sound, followed by cackling — the Hermes chariot has finally made use of their hasty rigging, setting off an explosion behind them that rockets them forward. It has the added bonus of shaking the ground, slightly, unsettling the other drivers for just barely long enough for them to pull into third place. Far ahead, still in first, Nico can see Clarisse yelling instructions at Will, although he can’t hear what they are. His grip on the rail has tightened.

“Why,” starts Nico carefully, and based on Lou Ellen’s pinched face she knows exactly where he’s going, “does she make him — well, you know.”

Lou Ellen is silent for a good long while, watching the practice chariot race with eyes that aren’t paying attention. Hermes is gaining, but Hephaestus is gaining faster.

“Clarisse has always liked Will,” she says eventually. She meets Nico’s incredulous expression, snorting. “Well, as much as Clarisse can like people. I got here way after he did, so I don’t have any more details there than you do, but he’s never been afraid of her, and she likes that. He’s never been mean to her, either. I mean, I know she can be a bully, but people aren’t exactly light on her, to be fair.”

The Aphrodite-Iris chariot turns out to have some tricks up its sleeve — it starts to glow; barely at first, but quickly blinding. At its crux, everyone has to look away, allowing them to pull into first.

Well, except that Will doesn’t seem nearly as staggered as everyone else. In fact, he doesn’t look bothered at all — for the first time that Nico has seen, there’s something like competition pulling a crooked smile on his face. He stares straight at the still-too-bright chariot, reigns wrapped around his arms as he yanks them forward.

“Is that why she drags him away sometimes?” Nico asks. “To train?”

“Something like that. Most of his training was with —” she falters. “Well, you know who. Medicine and some archery.”

They’re both quiet for a while. Neither of them ever knew Lee or Michael well, if at all, but over time Nico has found himself almost clamming up at the mere thought of them, the way one might tiptoe around an authority figure when they have something to hide. Forbidden subjects, where before Nico simply didn’t think of them often.

“You can’t just not train, though,” Lou Ellen murmurs, eyes trained on the chariots. Hephaestus throws one of their spears, lodging it in the spokes of the Aphrodite-Iris chariot. They come to a very abrupt and very screechy halt, knocking them out of the race in any real capacity. “Not at Camp Half-Blood. She taught him hand-to-hand because she was the only one strong enough to physically drag him to the arena. Everyone else gave up after the first few tantrums — I think she was kind of amused by the challenge. Or something.”

“Or something,” Nico agrees. Privately, he thinks that there is something about Will Solace that makes you want to protect him. Not frailty — he is not by any means incapable — but something about his smile, his genuineness. The stubborn belief that people are good and kind and worthy of everything he has to give. A naivety, except someone who’s been through what he has (what they all have) cannot be naive — his hope in the world is hard-earned and well-won. It makes people want to protect his hold on it, by any means necessary.

Even, Nico reasons, ornery old fuckers like Clarisse LaRue.

The three remaining chariots start the last leg of the race — Apollo-Ares, barely squeezing out in front; then Hephaestus, quickly gaining; and finally Hermes, lagging slightly but not to be discarded. As they round the bend, Nico watches as Clarisse cuffs Will briefly on the arm, clearly proud. This is the farthest they’ve made in first so far, after two weeks of training. Will, reigns safely transferred back to Clarisse, beams at her — bright enough that Nico can see it from dozens of yards away.

With sudden, calculated speed, the Hephaestus chariot surges forward.

As if coordinated, Nico and Lou Ellen inhale sharply, leaning forward. He sees the scattered few other campers so the same in his peripherals, watching with single minded focus as the chariot levels exactly with Will and Clarisse. Nico eyes the spear nervously — of all weapons, they’re the easiest for Will to dodge, to fight off. More impersonal.

But the sons of the smartest god around would know that.

For at least a hundred feet, nothing happens. Ares-Apollo and Hephaestus stay neck in neck, every urge forward matched, every pesky road-blocking stone avoided. The finish line is dangerously close, but no one pulls ahead, nothing changes. Four shoulders remain tense, four helmets stare resolutely forward.

Then, in a quick movement, the taller Hephaestus charioteer hands the spear off to the shorter, swiftly taking the reigns, and the shorter lunges — aiming right for Will’s shoulder. Will’s quick, though, and has his own spear poised to parry in an instant. There’s a barely perceptible nudge from Clarisse, and then Will’s eyes harden, and he lifts his spear to jab right back, needle-thin tip gleaming in the late afternoon sun, right for the chink in the charioteer’s armour and then —

The charioteer rips their helmet off, dropping it at their feet.

It’s Harley.

Hephaestus’ darling; hell, the camp’s darling. One of their youngest and brightest, with big, mischievous brown eyes, contagious smiles, endless enthusiasm. Cute, clumsy Harley, the only one of Hephaestus’ children Will doesn’t have to nag to get treated, who walks dutifully over the infirmary every time he gets so much as a second-degree burn and treats each one of Will’s overcautious instructions with utmost seriousness. Who Will sends away each time with an affectionate kiss on the forehead and a prized purple sucker — who Will, frankly, favours. Who Will would never, in a million years, even consider hurting.

A dirty trick by the Hephaestus cabin.

But an effective one.

Immediately, Will flinches back, spear dropping from his hand and splintering under thundering hooves and spinning wheels. Without a second of hesitation, Harley launches his spear in the same move as before — sticking it in the wheel’s spokes, inertia sending the charioteer’s sprawling, knocking them out of the race.

Except, maybe it’s different when the chariots are so close. Or maybe the chariot was faulty to begin with. Because as soon as the spear gets wedged, the fragile floor of the chariot seems to implode — sending Will and Clarisse under the still-moving machine, instead of flying over. The horses, disoriented from the sudden change, rip free of their harness, adding more force to the already precarious tumble.

There’s a sharp, sickening crack, so loud Nico can hear it as if it’s next to him. In the brief nanosecond immediately afterwords, he closes his eyes, sending a prayer to his father: please be the axle. Please be the axle. Please be the axle.

As the Hephaestus and Hermes chariots rocket past the finish line, Clarisse lets out a shrill, blood-curdling scream.

———

Nico’s off the bench and halfway towards the crashed chariot before he can blink. He’s not the only one — he processes, barely, everyone else’s quick convergence, including the remaining charioteers — but he’s there first, diving into the wreckage seconds before anyone else is close enough.

There’s not a lot of actual debris, chariots being as small as they are, but the dust cloud from the track is so huge and the pieces of wood are so splintered that it feels like there is. As the dust settles, and he kicks some debris out of the way, he starts to see the shape of Will, kneeling, in front of a prone Clarisse and an ever-growing pool of blood.

There’s a bone sticking straight out of her thigh.

As the rest of the campers converge upon them, Will looks up and meets Nico’s eyes. His own blue eyes are dark, steely — determined, but afraid.

“I don’t have time,” is the only thing out of his mouth before he braces both hands on Clarisse’s leg, immediately starting to sing urgent hymns.

Nico understands.

“Lou, Julia, Chiara,” he barks, taking charge in absence of Will’s voice. The three girls snap forward to him immediately. “Sprint the the infirmary and tell them what happened. Austin’s on duty — make sure he doesn’t come with you, we need him to prep a surgical suite. Send everyone else and send them fast. Bring a stretcher.”

He turns to the Hephaestus kids. “Jake, Harley, start clearing the debris to make space. Damien, join them; move the big stuff first, small stuff is secondary. We need a space for Will to work and a space to lay the stretcher. Jen, Butch, Lacy —”

He barks off a list of orders, doing his best to channel the commands he’s watched Will give dozens and dozens of times. In minutes, he has the track cleared, Will’s medical bag dragged over from the stands, and everyone who is not helping stabilize out to the infirmary to help as needed.

As soon as there’s an opening, he rushes over to Will and Clarisse, kneeling by her head.

“Help is coming,” he promises, watching the glow dim and flicker in time with the rhythm of Will’s chanting. The bleeding has slowed, marginally, but he can tell from the volume of blood alone that this was an arterial hit. It’s going to take more than Will’s raw healing power, although there is a lot of it, to keep Clarisse alive and keep her leg functioning in recovery. He needs tools, he needs nectar and ambrosia; he needs the surgery suite. He needs time.

“Is it helpful for me to knock her out?”

Clarisse, of course, is still conscious. Barely — and in so much pain Nico will be surprised if she’s processing anything at all — but enough that every few seconds she lets out an agonised shout of pain, writhing and flinching so hard Will has to focus on steadying her as much as healing her.

Without breaking his song, eyes still trained on the injury, Will nods. Nico breathes, squaring his shoulders, then shuffled forward to rest Clarisse’s head gently in his lap, fingers pressed to her temples. He presses, hard enough to feel the beat of her heart — weak — through his fingertips, and squeezes his eyes shut.

He’s no son of Hypnos, but dreams are the Underworld’s domain. Are his domain, as heir and prince of the Underworld, in every way that matters, that can be counted.

He lets himself sink into careful limbo; body in physical space, mind and soul elsewhere. Not too much — he’s no use if he falls unconscious — but enough to slip into Clarisse’s mindscape, step into her subconscious.

The whole place bleeds white, hot anguish.

Nico stumbles when he first walks in, nauseous despite being nothing but his own mind. It’s been a while since he’s experienced this kind of pain, his own or not, and he has to consciously beat back memories of brimstone and rot; liquid fire, endless red, red, red.

“Clarisse?” he calls, softly as he dares.

She doesn’t respond. He’s not sure she knows how to respond, even if she could. Cautious of the memory and emotion swirling around him, he steps forward. If he focuses, her anguish is pointed — is central. She will be at the centre of it.

He has volunteered, but he’s not sure he wants to follow.

Steeling himself, he shoulders through swirling masses of pain, of hurt, of fear. It’s blisteringly hot, and feels not unlike the sandstorm he was once stranded within, in the middle of the New Mexico desert four years ago. His face prickles; he’s blinded.

He trudges forward.

“Clarisse? Clarisse! Can you hear me? It’s Nico!”

Desperately and uselessly, he wishes he had more practice. Will has offered, the few times he’s needed to anaesthetize someone, but for the most time Nico has foolishly declined. Why on Earth he would pass up a much easier mindscape to navigate through in preparation for something like this is a mystery to him. Fuck.

“Clarisse! Try to — focus on me, can you hear me?”

He forces himself forward, a few more — well, there’s no distance in a mindscape, nothing measurable, anyway. He forces himself to look up, braving the assault to his face, and try to scan his surroundings. The swirling mass is more centralized, now, almost hurricane-like and conal. He’s closer than he was before, but if he can only find…

He looks up, and almost cries in relief: weak against the roaring storm, but still present, is a flickering, golden light. A very familiar light. Nico squeezes his eyes shut, thrusting out his own energy in an uncoordinated mass — boy, is that going to be uncomfortable to extract later — and flails wildly until he finally feels the warmth of Will’s energy entangling with his own, grounding him. He opens his eyes, and suddenly everything is clearer.

Clarisse kneels in the centre of her mindscape, hands pressed tightly to her ears, eyes screwed shut, mouth open in a silent scream.

“Hey,” Nico murmurs, kneeling in front of her. It takes a few seconds, and a few moments of gentle coaxing, before she looks up.

“It hurts,” she croaks.

She’s more vulnerable than he’s ever seen her — eyes brown and big and wet, pained, face twisted and chin trembling and achingly, unbelievably young. She is nineteen years old, but in that moment she appears almost childlike. The years of warrior’s hardness has abandoned her; she is armourless.

Nico swallows the lump in his throat. “I know.”

“Help me. Please.”

“Come here, Clarisse.” He reaches out and wraps a gentle hand around hers, tugging her close. The knee jerk discomfort at close contact is barely a flicker — he is so entwined in her right now that her fear has started to bleed into his; her rawness. He needs this comfort almost as much as she does. Right now she is a person, in agony, and so is he, and it is unbearable.

He holds her until the pain slowly stops.

———

Will is in the surgical suite for seven straight hours.

“Bed,” Nico says softly, rising up to meet him as he exits. It says something about how exhausted he is that he doesn’t even protest, letting Nico place a hand on the small of his back and guide him past the on-call room, past the patient cots, past the Big House living room couches, past Cabin 7. He leads him across the common and right into Cabin 13, with its double beds and blackout curtains, with its insulated, soundproof walls. With Nico.

He helps him out of his bloodstained scrubs, peeling them off his skin and tossing them directly into a trash can. He’d guide him to the shower, usually, but there’s a — glassiness, to his eyes, that there usually isn’t after surgery. Nico chooses instead to skip it, guiding him into the sweatpants he left behind the last time he was here and an oversized The Doors t-shirt of Nico’s, and then to the spare bed he always uses, across from Nico’s. He peels the covers back for him like he’s a child, tucking him in, brushing the hair out of his eyes. He’s asleep in minutes, curled tightly around a pillow, furrowed crease not leaving the space between his eyebrows, even in sleep. Nico smooths it away with his thumb.

“Goodnight, Will,” he murmurs, brushing the backs of his knuckles across his forehead.

He watches him sleep far past what is normal, and then slips back out of the cabin.

———

“On the bright side,” Will says, squeezing the hand that has left to leave Clarisse’s arm, “you’re free from your chariot race obligation! As am I!”

Predictably, she only glowers.

“Not a chance, Solace,” she rasps.

Will helpfully gets her a glass of water, fussing over her blankets while she drinks until she bats him away. Chris watches the whole thing with great amusement, shoulders brushing Nico’s.

“He’s a mother hen, isn’t he,” he comments, tilting his head in Will’s direction, who narrowly avoids having his fingers bitten off trying to feed her a square of ambrosia.

Nico snorts. “Yeah.” He watches the fussing for a few more seconds, making note of Will’s shaking hands, his shakier smile. “He’s guilty.”

“He didn’t do anything. She doesn’t blame him.”

Nico meets his dark look, mouth twisted in understanding. They both know this logic is futile.

“Yeah, well, someone tell him that.”

“Will — stop it.” In a startlingly quick move for someone on as much morphine as she is, Clarisse darts out and clutches Will’s fluttering hands. He hesitates, wondering if it’s worth it to pull out of her hold and possibly jostle her leg. “I’m fine. And you’re still charioting.”

“You’re not fine,” Will frowns, conveniently ignoring the part of the sentence he doesn’t want to deal with. “Your femur snapped in half and tore through your femoral artery on its way out of your leg. You’re going to be on bedrest for a week at least, and it’ll be tender for a good long while besides. That’s what we in the medical business call a Big Fucking Deal.”

She tightens her hold, staring at him until he finally meets her eyes.

“Will.” She narrows her eyes. “You are still participating in the chariot race. I’m not asking.”

“It’ll have to wait until you’re better,” he says lightly. “Besides, we’re focusing on you right now.”

Nico can see in her face when she decides to switch strategies.

“Okay,” she says, stubborn glean in her eye, “then I’m asking you, as a personal request, to stay in the race. Or else I’ll drag myself onto a goddamn horse myself, killing myself in the process, and that will be on your head.”

The tactic works.

Will scowls. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Clarisse doesn’t bother repeating herself, letting go of his wrists and readjusting her blankets.

“I am done talking now. I believe it’s time for morphine-induced unconsciousness. Please remember that I took down a drakon with my own bare hands; it is well within my abilities to drag myself out of heroin-haze and onto a chariot with no legs, let alone one. Good talk.”

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she leans back on her pillows and passes out. Genuinely, actually passes out — not closes her eyes, not behind to fall asleep; she is unconscious. Snores ring through the air.

“Well,” Chris says carefully, unfolding his arms. “It might be time to let Clarisse rest for a while.”

Will, healer that he is, cannot exactly argue with that. Will, drama queen that he is, decides to make his fury known by stomping out of the room, a feat in flip-flips possible by him alone.

“She is so infuriating!” he shouts the second they’re in the main room, startling several people. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “I put effort in! I failed! She can’t even — it’s not even about spending time together, obviously, since I still have to do it! What does she want from me?!”

Chris, like Nico, has wisely decided to let the hypothetical questions remain hypothetical and stay silent, lest his fury be turned onto them. Ten minutes into Will’s rant, Chris excuses himself to go sit by Clarisse. Nico waves him off.

“Will,” Nico suggests the next time he takes a breath, “let’s maybe go for a walk.” He glances at the group of wide-eyed patients. “I think you’re scaring people.”

Deflating, Will nods, following Nico out the door. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go for a walk.”

The fresh air probably doesn’t fix things, per se, but as they lap around the cabins, Will seems to droop further and further, curling in on himself. The anger recedes from his features.

“I feel really shitty,” he admits softly. “Just, like, generally.”

Nico softens like a goddamn slab of ice cream on hot pavement. For the second time in three days, he opens his arms in offering, although this time it’s significantly less difficult.

“Come here.”

Without even a beat of hesitation, Will collapses into him, arms around his waist, head tucked under his chin. Nico fights the urge to wince — Will, usually, takes quite a bit of pride in his height. He likes to be the one to wrap around people, not the other way around. Nico has been indoctrinated into Will-affection, in the time since the Giant War, and if Will is the one curling into him, seeking comfort, than he is struggling.

Nico hates it when Will struggles. He always feels out of his depth.

“There, there,” he hedges, feeling a good bit like an NPC. “It’ll be okay.”

Will makes a small, wounded noise. “You don’t know that.”

“Um, yes I do, I know everything forever. I’ve never been wrong even one time in my life.”

His awkward attempt at lightening the mood is rewarded by Will’s laugh. It’s slight, and nowhere near the brightness it usually is, but it’s there and it’s genuine and that’s all Nico wanted, really.

“You good?” Nico asks softly, squeezing his arms.

Will nods. “Yes.” He hesitates. “Can I stay here a little longer?”

Nico wraps his arms impossibly tighter, aching at the quiet vulnerability in his voice.

“As long as you need.”

———

The last practice before the chariot race is nowhere near as fun to watch as the others. In fact, it’s not fun at all.

Clarisse, casted and upright, appoints her brother Sherman to race in her place, much to both his and Will’s very vocal complaints. Will’s, because he still doesn’t want to race at all and especially not now that Clarisse is out of the running, and Sherman’s because, well, when isn’t Sherman complaining about having to breathe the same air as someone or whatever.

Clarisse silences both of them with a glare. “Do it,” she orders.

They comply, stomping over to their practice chariot.

The practice race is awful. Nico is surprised, frankly, that they managed to finish at all, as badly behind as they managed. He could practically hear their squabbling all the way from the stands. For as much as Will is generally easy to get along with, he’s impossible when he’s stubborn, and worse when he’s petulant. He takes every command from Sherman like it’s a personal offence, and Sherman, being who he is, does too. Every shout to veer right or deflect an attack somehow sounds like a jab at Will’s speed, or a remark about his general intelligence. When they stomp off the track, helmets thrown in a heap with the rickety chariot, Nico is almost relieved.

“We’re going to lose, tomorrow, and I can’t wait,” hisses Will darkly, fists curled at his sides.

Nico watches him warily. “You’re not even going to try?”

“What, so he can remind me that even when I’m trying I’m a useless idiot? Not a chance.”

Nico has to almost jog to keep up with him, striding as powerfully as he is. He’s not even sure where he’s going — he seems to be, mostly, going away from the track and from Sherman, wherever that may be.

“You’re not a useless idiot,” Nico offers, when some of the stormcloud has lessened its hold on Will’s usually sunny face. “Nobody thinks you’re a useless idiot.”

Will closes his eyes, sighing. “I know.”

“And Sherman is just a generally grouchy person.”

“I know.”

“It feels very, very weird to be the optimistic and comforting one, right now.”

Will snorts, finally meeting his eyes. “I know.” He flops onto the ground, cheek resting in his knees, and pats the space next to him. Nico sits much more delicately. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole lately.”

“You’ve been stressed,” Nico points out. “A little assholery is warranted.”

“I’m still sorry.”

Nico knocks their shoulders together. “I forgive you, then.”

Will smiles. “Thank you.”

For a while they sit in comfortable silence, watching the hustle and bustle of camp. Will’s presence is a comforting one, even though Nico can feel the turmoil leeching off of him. Strangely because of that, actually — sometimes Nico feels like he’s the only one who struggles out of the two of them. Will spends so much of his time smiling and joking and lecturing, hands on his hips, that Nico had almost forgotten that he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, either. He’s just good at faking it.

“I’ll be watching, tomorrow.” He bites his lip. “And I won’t, like, bring pom-poms, or anything, but I’ll be cheering you on.”

Will grins tiredly. “Silently and in your head?”

“Uh-huh.”

His smile softens considerably, melting into something almost shy, before he turns back to face forward.

“Well, then, damn. I guess I’ll have to try.”

———

On the morning of the chariot race, Will acts like Nico is escorting him to his goddamn execution.

“It is a race that will last a maximum of twenty minutes,” Nico says with no small amount of exasperation, “including prep time.”

Will looks no less grim. “A twenty minutes that will never be returned to me.”

Nico rolls his eyes and decides to stop humouring him.

He drops him off at his chariot with a quick pat on the shoulder, jogging back to the stands. They’re full, today, as expected, with every camper and countless others cramped into the minimal space. Nico looks at the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd, and is about to consider breaking his promise and fleeing back to his cabin before he sees a doodled-on hand stick in the air, waving wildly. He exhales in relief and heads over to sit in the spot Kayla and Austin have cleared between them.

“How miserable is he?” Kayla asks brightly, tapping her purple shoes. “He left before we woke up this morning. Assumedly to sprint around camp a few times like a feral cat.”

“Pretty miserable,” Nico answers. He reaches over to pat Austin’s head when he rests on his shoulder, knowing he’s nervous even if he tries not to show it. “A lot of it is self-induced, though. Like, yeah, Sherman is going to be a dick and it’s going to be stressful, but I feel like, in the grand scheme of things, this is among the least stressful things he’s ever been forced to deal with.”

“There was that one time he had to remove a brain tumour in the middle of the forest,” Austin muses. “I think that was probably pretty stressful for him.”

Nico opens his mouth. He closes it again.

“Demigod life is a nightmare,” he settles on eventually.

“Hear, hear,” both siblings mutter.

They lapse into silence as they turn back to the racetrack, evaluating the turnout.

Competition will be hefty.

Sherman has finally arrived, Ares horses in tow. The garish things look almost wrong next to the brightness off the flying Apollo chariot, but that may just be the tension between the team’s charioteers that’s so potent it seems to warp the air around them. Nico is vaguely surprised that they’re managing to stand so civilly next to each other, even if they could not be more visibly uncomfortable. Will, at least, tries for a smile, which drops immediately when Sherman mutters something too quiet to be picked up this far.

Nico sighs. This is going to be hard to watch.

There are about twenty other chariots lines up. Hermes, Hephaestus, and Aphrodite-Iris, like at practice, but Athena is competing too, as well as Nike, as per usual, and Tyche. In fact Nico, and by extension Hades, is one of the few cabins not participating — everyone else seems primed and ready for a chance of laurels and extra dessert. And, of course, settling personal rivalries via bloodshed, et cetera, et cetera.

The biggest competition, if Nico had to quantify it, will be Hephaestus, tricky as they were during practice; Athena, for obvious reasons; and Will and Sherman themselves will be their own worst enemy. He can’t tell if it would be better for them to fail out early to avoid racketing tension up further, or last close to the end to keep things at a healthy simmer.

In the end, it doesn’t matter. The second warning whistle goes off, and the chariots rush to the starting line — Will and Sherman at third position, Demeter to their left, Dionysus-Hypnos to their right. The stands go silent, the charioteers get in position, and with a sharp, shrill whistle, they’re off.

The first few seconds, as always, are chaotic.

In the ground with the settling dust are three separate chariots, including, surprisingly, Hermes, whose rigging backfired and sent their entire chariot up in smoke. They are luckily unharmed due to their unusually well-prepared fireproof armour, but neither Julia nor Connor seem too pleased about being out so soon.

The rest of the race continues on without them. Athena has a decent stretch of first place, but Nike is following fast. Behind them, barely a hair’s breadth of distance, is Will and Sherman, rocketing forward smoothly. Unlike Clarisse, Sherman does not care for giving Will any learning opportunities — despite the horses being Ares’, Will is on the reigns. Sherman is armed with his sword and his spear, slashing and jabbing at anyone who gets too close. Neither Ares or Apollo is big on tricks, not like some of the craftier cabins, but together they’re fast and strong and make a formidable opponent.

Or, well, they would. If they were working together, rather than two people simply being in the same chariot.

They cross into the second lap, Will guiding them across the innermost ring to move them up past Nike. They’re gaining on Athena, now, but that won’t be an easy task — challenging the camp’s wisest never is.

Kayla hisses through her teeth. “Shit.” She purses her lip at the trailing Nike chariot — they’re gaining, and they’re seething. Damien — at least Nico thinks it’s Damien, it’s hard to tell with the helmets — has an arsenal of throwing knives poised in his left hand, and as his teammate steers them steady, he takes aim. Nico has to resist the urge to shout a warning.

As the short knife sails towards the reigns wrapped around Will’s hands, though, aim ringing true, Will’s spine goes ramrod straight. Almost as if he can feel it. With an eighth of a second to spare, he shifts and jerks his hands out of the way, avoiding the knife and managing, somehow, to stay on track.

With a skill and ferocity that has Nico’s jaw brushing his toes, Will dodges all eight of the knives lobbed in his direction. In one memorable manoeuvre, he rips his left hand from the reigns, holding them in his teeth, and uses it to shove Sherman down behind the wall of the chariot right before a knife would have lodged itself in his uncovered cheek. Out of weapons, he steers their chariot right next to Nike, allowing Sherman to sever their reigns and send them rolling to a sad, victory-less stop.

Without pausing to look behind them, they race on.

Athena’s chariot has a lead, but their chariot is built for stability, not speed. They’ve accounted for every possible sabotage and built accordingly. They have not accounted for, however, stubbornness and sheer force of Will. The Ares-Apollo chariot gains on them, helmets glinting, skeletal horses gaining faster, faster, faster. Both Sherman and Malcom, Nico believes, have their spears drawn, ready, as the space between them gets smaller and smaller, to fight barbarically for first — for honour.

Nico doubts even Rachel, powers of prophecy fully restored, could predict what happens next.

Either too furious to accept a loss or simply deciding to throw the game, one of the Nike charioteers crawls out from their carriage, darting onto the live track. They scan the ground, looking for something. When they stand in the dead centre of the track, body perfectly tense, gripping something glinting in their hand, Nico gets it.

Austin gasps, nails digging into Nico’s arm. “Oh, no.”

Before anyone can say anything, they take aim. They measure once, twice, and then let the knife loose with deadly precision, knife cutting through the air with ease and hurdling with impossible power towards to two finalists chariots.

If the knife hits the Athena chariot, it will slice clean through the axle. Architectural wonder it may be, the chariot cannot withstand Celestial bronze at terminal velocity, and it will give, and the chariot will crumple. In an effort to lesson the chariot’s load, the Athena charioteers have largely forgone armour. Their fall will be painful and disastrous; as deadly as Clarisse’s, if not moreso. A hit to the Ares-Apollo chariot will be similarly as race-ending, but both Will and Sherman are in full armour. It will be bruising, but not deadly. They will lose, but they will survive.

All they need to do to win is shift, just slightly, so that the knife hits the Athena chariot.

Will, like with all the others before it, seems to feel this knife coming. Unlike the others, he glances backwards, looking at the knife, looking back at the Athena chariot. Sherman follows his gaze, and seems to realize what Will has calculated a split second after he does. He shouts something — presumably an order to move, to shift, to sabotage.

Will hesitates.

The knife hits the Ares-Apollo chariot, slicing through the left wheel.

It careens around, unbalanced, dragged into a heap by untethered horses.

The Athena chariot pulls forward to victory, the remaining functioning chariots quickly following.

The Ares-Apollo canon is left broken and humiliated only a few feet from victory, the almost-first-place.

———

As soon as they come off the track, things get messy. Both Will and Sherman are covered in dirt and grime, striped with grease from the broken wheels, bleeding sluggishly from various scraps. Sherman has his non-flailing hand clamped to an oozing wound on the side of his neck, and Will is limping.

“—and I cannot fucking believe you, Solace! All I asked for was effort!”

“Oh, forgive me,” Will says sarcastically, finally close enough to hear. “In the hustle and bustle of being shot at, I made a couple errors.”

“That gonna be your attitude in battle? ‘Oh, sorry, there was a monster chasing me so I lost all focus —’”

“Battles are not usually fought on a chariot going a hundred fucking miles per hour!”

“That’s no excuse! You need to be —”

“What, Sherman, fucking what? What indisputable flaw do I have, oh great one, that needs to be so desperately remedied?”

It’s startling when Will’s composure cracks. When he goes from bitey and sarcastic, eye-rolling from his usual distance, to right in Sherman’s face. It’s eerie to see him at his full height, no slouching, reminding anyone watching that yeah, actually, their laidback medic is six-two, strong, capable, in more ways than what they’re used to.

Sherman, in usual Ares kid fashion, doesn’t even flinch.

“Your reflexes, for starters,” he says coolly. “No matter what you do, Solace, you’re always one second too fucking late.”

A collective gasp ricochets through the gathered campers. The tension rackets up so rapidly that Nico coughs, lungs suddenly constricted. Will rears back so violently Nico is half-convinced Sherman actual punched him.

Sherman, for his part, seems to realise he’s crossed some kind of line. The cold look on his face twists into a scowl, uncomfortable and apologetic at once. “Look, Will, I just mean —”

“You don’t get to say that to me.”

Will’s quiet voice seems to echo through the entirety of the valley, cutting through laboured breathing of charioteers, pegasus neighing, even the crashing of the waves in the distant shore — everything goes silent.

Nico likes to think he knows Will pretty well. He knows what he sounds like when he’s giggly, watching his siblings argue about nothing; when he’s excitable, rambling about his newest obsession; when he can’t choose between amused and stern at whatever dumb thing Nico has gotten himself into. He knows what he sounds like when he’s exhausted, too, overworked and done with everything; when he’s annoyed, when he’s hurt and sad.

But he’s never heard Will sound so dangerous.

“Of all people.” His words are articulated, deliberate. The usual warmth of his eyes is gone. He’s completely still in a way he never is outside of surgery — no shaking in his perpetually trembling hands, no bounce to his curls, none of the constant energy that seems to constantly exude off him. Still, cold. Icy. “You do not get to talk to me about being one second too late.”

Sherman looks stricken. Guilt is written across each of his features, and for a second he steps back — as if afraid.

“Will, I —”

The son of Apollo turns without another word, striding over to the distant tree line and disappearing into the woods. No one chases after him.

No one even moves.

———

Predictably, the silence does not last long.

“You fucking idiot!” Clarisse explodes, the second Will is out of eyesight. She bats Chris’s hand away from her, and he, surprisingly, lets her go easily — his usually understanding face has hardened. She hobbles towards her brother, remarkably quick with her clunky cast, and starts truly tearing into him. “I asked you to do one fucking thing! One!”

Sherman quickly gets defensive under the scrutiny. “Well, you didn’t make it fucking easy! Just because he’s your protege doesn’t mean he’s my fucking problem —”

Nico doesn’t stick around to listen to their argument. He searches around the gathered crowd until he meets Kayla’s eyes, flicking his head towards the woods. She nods frantically. Knowing he’ll make sure they have privacy, he takes off, aiming for the same place Will went, barely slowing down once he enters the forest.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Will?” he calls, well aware he’s not going to get an answer. “Where are you?”

While there’s definitely no response from Will, he damn near jumps out of his skin when a dryad melts from her tree, shuffling towards him.

“Blond boy?” she asks, leaning close so he can hear her whisper. “Tall? Crying?”

Nico swallows. Fuck. “Yeah.”

“Headed down southeast, ways past Zeus’ fist.“

“Thank you,” he says, hoping she understands how much he means it.

She nods, then disappears back into her tree.

Following her directions, Nico jogs down beaten paths, heading in the direction that he is vaguely sure is southeast and mostly praying that he’ll find Will eventually. He shouldn’t have that much of a head start, since Nico left maybe five minutes after he did, but who knows. Will’s fast, and sometimes this forest seems bigger than it really is. It’s easy to get lost.

He searches for what feels like hours, and might actually be hours; sky darkening as the sun disappears into the lake. The temperature drops significantly. Nico is hoping that he won’t be spending the night sleeping in the dirt when he hears sniffling.

Heart pounding, he freezes, focusing on the sound. It’s muffled, sobs choked-off and sound hidden behind cupped hands. The echo sounds strange, too; it’s close, that much is obvious, but Nico almost can’t tell if it’s coming from the left or the right. Truthfully, it doesn’t sound like either.

On impulse, he looks up. Almost invisible in the branches of a large oak tree is Will, stained clothes blending in with the scratchy bark, leaves covering the rest of him.

Except, perhaps fittingly, his bright, golden hair.

Worried that calling out to him might startle him right off the tree, Nico begins to climb. He’s not great at climbing — he doesn’t have a natural sense of what is and isn’t a good foothold — but oak trees are easy. Every half-step has a branch, and this tree is old enough that the branches are thick, sturdy. He’s twenty feet up before he even realizes, barely breaking a sweat.

He pauses a few feet shy of his target, straightening until he’s standing on an almost flat branch, arm looped tightly around the trunk.

“Will.”

Will startles. He looks around frantically, struggling in the dark, until his bloodshot eyes finally land on Nico. He bursts into more tears, shoulders shaking as he sobs.

Alarmed, Nico crawls all the way up.

“Woah, Will, breathe, vita, breathe —”

He’s not sure what tree-sobbing etiquette is, but regular sobbing etiquette often involves some kind of comforting physical touch, so he goes with that. And Will, he knows, likes to be crowded, likes to be almost suffocated with the sights and touch and smells of other people, to remind him he’s not alone, even if he feels it. So Nico scoots as closely as he dares, legs wrapped around the branch, and slides one arm around Will’s back, one against his chest, and tugs him closely.

Will comes easily.

With a bit of manoeuvring, he’s tucked under Nico’s chin, shoulders hunched and shaking, enveloped entirely in Nico’s arms. He can feel a wet spot growing on his left sleeve, and honestly he should be at least a little bit disgusted, but he barely even notices. He’s too busy fighting the lump in his own throat, blinking back his own tears.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Will’s curls. “Let it out, Will. You’re allowed.”

Will wails, a deep, choking, broken sound, and Nico loses the battle with his own tears. He’s never heard Will like this. He’s never heard anyone like this, except himself, in the echo of this same forest, years ago. It hurts like biting ice.

“It hurts, they’re gone, they’re gone, and I hate them, I hate them so much —” he heaves, dragging in breath like it cost him to say it, like part of his soul was dragged out of his vocal chords — “and I hate myself for hating them, I hate, they’re gone, I’m never —”

He dissolves into sobs, again, words breaking into nothing understandable, crying around the same repetitions over and over again. Nico hides his crumpling face in Will’s hair, wincing at every broken cry, every hitched breath, every moaned word. His heart feels like it’s breaking into a million fractals. He’s never felt so out of depth in his life.

“Let it out,” he whispers again, for a lack of anything else to say. “Let it out, sweetheart, let it out.”

For a long time, Nico had no one to hold him.

When he lost Bianca, he was by himself. And when he thought he had someone to guide him, someone to fix him, he was wrong — he was vulnerable and easy to manipulate. He had no one to hold him until he was too bitter and too closed off to let himself fall apart, anyway, and losing Bianca stayed somewhere rotten inside him, a bruise that never, ever stopped aching.

Until Will.

Last December he had cracked like an egg. He hadn’t meant to — it wasn’t even in the back of his mind — but he’d opened the door to Will’s smiling face on the morning, cold and sad as it was, and just started bawling. Some part of him, some deep, buried part, stomped it’s way from the prison Nico had kept it in and took the hell over, yanking open the floodgates, forcing him to expel every last drop of shadowy, strangling pain that had stayed inside him so long. He thought he was going to die. His entire body shook and jerked like a rowboat in a deep ocean storm, and it had been Will’s lighthouse, his endless, light eyes, his warm hands, his firm hold that had held him steady until he’d dragged himself out to the other side. It was and is the most painful thing he’d ever done in his life. And the most important.

He doesn’t think Will has had anyone to hold him, before, either. Not ‘til right this moment. Not Chiron, not his mother, and certainly not an older sibling. Will has been running on empty for as long as Nico has known him. Longer.

“Let it out,” Nico whispers again, and holds him tighter.

———

By the time either of them move again, it’s pale, early morning, and they’re damp from the dew and Will’s tears. Nico is as stiff as the tree he’s sitting on, but doesn’t dare say a word about it.

“I don’t want to go back,” Will croaks, the first either of them have spoken in hours.

Nico tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, resting a gentle hand on his cheek. “Okay.”

“We can’t stay here forever.”

“We can stay a while.” Nico pulls away slightly, just enough so that he can cradle Will’s face in both hands, tilting his chin up to meet his gaze. “I mean it, Will. As long as you need.”

“What if I’ll never have enough time?”

“Then I’ll stay with you until time runs out.” He presses a tentative, careful kiss to the centre of his freckled forehead; staying when Will shudders, leaning into it. Against his skin, he murmurs, “But you’ll have enough time, vita. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“I don’t want to be strong.”

“So don’t, I gotcha.” He presses another kiss slightly above the first, and another, resting again at the crown of his head. “But you can be.”

They stay like that until Nico’s face starts to go numb, and even then he doesn’t go far, shifting so his cheek lays on the top of Will’s skull. He ignores the slight tickle of his curls against his nose, focusing instead on the brand of his hands on his waist, the shakey but constant inhales, holds, exhales, again, again, again.

“Clarisse is my friend,” Will starts. “She was as important to me as — as Cass, before the war.”

Nico hums. “But she betrayed you.”

“All of us.”

“And you resent her for it, a little.”

Will nods. “It’s disgusting.”

“It’s human, Will, Christ.” He moves them around so they’re both sitting facing each other, Nico’s eyes firmly meeting Will’s. “I will never fully forgive Percy for letting Bianca die. Never. It’s not fair to him, and I love him anyway, and I am choosing to move past it. But I will carry that burden. Am I disgusting for that?”

Will glances away. “No.”

“Will, you — look at me.”

He does.

“Clarisse actively chose her pride over her people. So did the rest of her cabin. She’s not fully responsible for that choice, and the blame, as always, lands on Kronos’ shoulders, but —” Nico laughs, a bitter, defeated sound. “Out of all of us, you lost the most. No one lost as many as Apollo. No one burned as many shrouds. You’re allowed to be hurt, allowed to be angry.”

“I forgave them,” Will admits. “I did it publicly and called off the stupid rivalry right after the war. It was the first thing I did as head counsellor.”

“Trying to do what Michael would have done?”

“Are you kidding me, he —” Will scoffs, swiping at the tears trickling down the corners of his eyes. “If Michael were alive, and he found out I forgave them after what happened to Lee, too Diana — he would have been furious. He would stop speaking to me. If I was trying to be like Michael, I might’ve refused them treatment.”

Nico tries to imagine that for a second — Will refusing anyone treatment. It makes something sour uncurl in his stomach, something unsettling.

“You would never refuse someone treatment. I didn’t even — I didn’t think you guys were allowed.”

Will shrugs. “There are no rules to our practice. I just never made refusal an option, and the kids are too young to know any different.”

‘The kids’ — as if Kayla and Austin aren’t as old or older than Will was when he was in charge, when he held the bashed pieces of his brother’s brain as it oozed out of his skull. As he sat, exhausted, hands shaking, next to Nico, and embroidered twelve shrouds. As if Yan and Gracie are his, rather than Apollo’s.

“You forgave them so your siblings wouldn’t grow up bitter,” Nico realises. “Oh, gods, Will.”

He shrugs again, picking at his nails. “For me too. Grudges aren’t healthy.” He tries for a teasing smile. “You’d know.”

“I would.” Nico tries to smile back. It’s easier than he thought it would be, although it fades back into something serious quickly. He reaches out, linking his hands with Will’s to stop him picking before he bleeds. “You can be selfish sometimes, you know.”

“Not in front of anyone.”

“You’re admitting it in front of me,” Nico points out.

Will hesitates. “That’s — different.”

“How?”

“You get it.” He looks down, voice quiet. “You get me. I can —” He meets Nico’s eyes again, a kind of helpless smile on his face. “I dunno. You’re safe. You’re okay with me, even when I’m ugly.”

“Even then,” Nico echoes quietly. He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind Will’s ear again, even though none were loose. His fingertips linger, and the skin under his touch warms. “Especially then.”

“You can, too, you know, I lo —”

“I know.”

Will exhales in relief. “Good.”

He slumps forward until his forehead rests on the swell of Nico’s shoulder, breaths warming the air between them. Nico tries to match his rhythm — in, out, in, out. Hold. Out, in.

“Can we — hide here, for a little bit? Just a little longer.”

“Of course,” Nico murmurs, squeezing his wrists. “I’ll hide you as long as you need.”

#HOLY SHIT THIS OVERTOOK MY ENTIRE LIFE FOR LIKE SEVEN HOURS #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #will/nico #nico/will #will solace angst #will solace & clarisse larue #character study #angst and humor #longpost #solangelo #my writing #angry will solace #and righteously so #is this a nico study disguised as a will study or a will study disguised as a nico study? #who knows #not me

[f4ll-for-you]

jealousy, jealousy

warnings: smut, degradation, slightly dark! rafe?, overstimulation

Three months you’d been dating Rafe Cameron, your best friend's older brother. After a year of pining after you, you’d finally given in and let him take you on a date, which of course, ended up with you in his bed the next morning. It took a month for you to believe he actually cared, given his fuckboy reputation that he needed to uphold. Luckily, you were happy to keep your relationship secret to avoid hurting Sarah’s feelings, she didn't get along with her brother, and if she knew you were dating him you were sure she would feel betrayed. 

However, that was only the tip of the iceberg with Rafe's family. Rich, well connected, always throwing fancy dinner parties, nothing like the life you’d experienced growing up. To earn extra cash while at university, you’d often waitress at the parties, tending to Rafe's family and friends whilst they looked down on you, treating you like you were nothing and constantly forgetting your name. Yet another reason to keep your relationship secret.

Tonight, both you and Rafe were getting ready to go to the annual ‘Cameron Family Gala’, both to attend in very different ways. You arrived at the house, through the ‘staff’ entrance, dressed in a white shirt and short black skirt, your apron basically covering it. You smirked to yourself, knowing Rafe's eyes would likely be on you most of the night. You wished Sarah could be there, even if she was ‘one of them’ she always made things more bearable, but as usual she’d escaped to see the pogues.

As the party began to liven up, you circled the guests, handing out champagne from the tray you were carrying. You watched Rafe in the corner with his father, Ward watching him talk at Rafe as if he were a child whilst rolling his eyes, looking up to the ceiling as if to ask for help, anger coursing through his veins. Making your way over, you offered them both a drink, smiling politely at the pair of them, Rafe’s cheeky wink going unnoticed by his father. 

You continued gliding around the party, slipping in between slightly drunk, wealthy men and women. Readying another tray of drinks, you recognised two familiar voices speaking in a hushed tone, angrily going back and forth in conversation.

“Rafe look, you are twenty now, you are to carry on my legacy and you must have someone suitable by your side to do it with,” you heard Ward whisper-shout. 

“I don’t want to settle down, I’m enjoying myself,” Rafe said nonchalantly, enjoying winding his father up as usual.

“Anyway, there’s far too many options out there to settle for one,” he joked, making Ward scoff in disgust. 

“There’s one now,” Rafe spoke, looking a tall blonde girl up and down, “I’ll be off.” He turned to smirk at his father before walking away, he was tired of doing everything his dad asked, and tonight, he wasn’t going to let Ward get to him.

Your heart dropped in your chest, you knew Rafe liked to keep up appearances, but you’d never had to watch it firsthand. A wave of anger filled your system, seeping through your body as your hands began to shake. You took a deep breath, two can play that game, you thought to yourself. 

For the rest of the evening, you flirted with each and every boy you came into contact with. You smiled innocently at Rafe every time he noticed, watching him clench his jaw at your actions.

Once his friends took an interest in you, it was game over; Rafe stormed over to you, grabbing your arm tightly. He didn't care about the eyes of his family and friends staring at him in confusion as he dragged a waitress out of the large ballroom. “What the fuck was all that,” he growled at you, not even stopping to look at your expression before pulling you into the nearest room. 

He let go of your arm, walking further into the room, running his hands through his messy blonde locks. “Are you going to answer me Y/N?!” he shouted this time, still with his back to you. You smirked, enjoying how riled up he got because of your actions. 

“What did I do?” you shouted back, your anger from earlier refuelling. “What did you mean, Rafe, when you went off to ‘get to know’ that beautiful blonde earlier?” You asked, your words laced with jealousy. 

Rafe turned, meeting your eyes, looking shocked for a moment, before his usual cocky attitude resumed. “We agreed to keep this secret, I was merely acting the part,” he remarked, smirking at the redness in your cheeks caused by your rage. 

“As was I,” you spat, “so if you don’t mind, I’ll be getting back to my job.” Spinning around where you stood, hand reaching for the door handle. 

Before you could turn the handle, a rough hand grabbed your ponytail, pulling you back into his chest. “You’re not going back out there until everyone realises you’re fucking mine,” Rafe whispered into your ear, his breath hot on your neck, as wetness pooled between your legs. 

Keeping one hand tightly around your ponytail, his other hand grabbed your hip, guiding you towards the back of the sofa and bending you over it. Your cunt clenched with anticipation as he palmed your ass, ripping your skirt up in one motion, making you almost bare in front of him. “Already wet for me, little slut,” he purred, looking at the damp patch of your panties. 

He slid one finger lightly up your clothed slit, making you stifle a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction he craved. Rafe pulled his hand away in response, quickly coming down to slap your bare ass. You jolted at the action, only making you soak your panties more. “I will do this until you moan for me” he threatened, you clenched again at the thought, rubbing your thighs together for some much needed friction. 

“So desperate, so stubborn,” Rafe crooned before landing another heavy slap to your reddened skin. 

Two, three, four more came before you broke, whimpering at his touch. “Are you going to be a good girl for me now?” he asked, leaning down towards your ear as he spoke. 

“Yes,” you whined, barely louder than a whisper, your eyes glassy with desperation. 

Before you could even think, you felt Rafe shove his fingers into you and began to pump them into and out with precision. The familiarity of his touch brought you close to your first high and you bite your bottom lip to try and stop the noises you desperately wanted to make.He released his harsh grip on your ponytail to your throat, lightly squeezing each side. The combination of his long fingers curling into you and his hand around your neck had you seeing stars, your first orgasm approached as you moaned loudly, tightening around him, his hand dripping with your juices. Rafe brought his fingers up to his mouth, savouring your taste like fine wine.

He then knelt behind you, barely giving you enough time to recover before attaching his mouth to your centre, licking up the juices he’d missed. “Mhm no, Rafe, too much,” you whimpered in response, trying to pull away from the overstimulation.

Rafe moaned into you as he grabbed your hips, pulling you back into his mouth as he dipped his tongue inside you. You were sure his fingers would leave marks, just like he wanted. “Fuck Rafe,” you couldn’t keep your moans at bay as he kitten licked you clit, brining you towards yet another orgasm. 

“So, fucking, perfect,” he spoke against you, the vibrations of his voice making you scream out in pleasure. 

He added two fingers into you once more, curling into your sweet spot as he lapped and sucked at your clit in unison. Your body began to shake as you came, screaming his name as you clutched onto the back of the large sofa. “That's it baby, let them know who owns you,” Rafe spoke as you rode out your high.

Rafe unzipped his trousers, his cock slapped up against his chest, his tip leaking precum. You looked back at him, eyes wide knowing what he was about to do, already feeling exhausted from your previous two releases. 

He pushed into your dripping cunt, giving no time to adjust to his size. The grip on your hips tightening as he pounded into you, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “Fuck, so tight, you were made for me princess,” Rafe moaned and his hand returning to your hair, pulling you back into his chest to find a deeper angle. 

The new angle allowed him to once again reach your sweet spot. You could feel your cunt begin to flutter around his length. He moaned, relentless to chase his own release with a desperation to fill you with his pearly spend. Trembling, your climax washing over you, coaxing his own as he spilled into you. The pair of you scream each other's names in pleasure, forgetting the party down the hall. 

Rafe pulls out of you gently, caressing your cheek. “Do you think now is a bad time to tell my father we’re dating?” he jokes, looking into your eyes. You look wearily up at him, a wide grin appearing on your face, “at least you’ve settled down.”

#rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe fic #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #dark rafe #rafe cameron x smut

[greynatomy]

regret

leah williamson x reader

actually finished writing something! wooo! the poll i put out was a close one, but this pair ultimately won. thanks to all who voted.

i’ve decided to split this into two parts, so this isn’t the end peoples!

part 2

———

“Alright. Remember, when we get there—”

“—pretend that we’re still happily married. I know.” You say annoyed, getting out of the car.

“Hey, don’t be like that!” Leah gets out of the car, catching up to you.

“Be like what? I’m not the one who got us in this situation.”

“Can we just be civil? This is the last time we’ll go through this.”

“Piss off will you! We wouldn’t have to act civil if you kept your mouth to yourself. And you had the audacity to file for divorce.”

Before Leah could reply, the front door opens to reveal Amanda, Leah’s Mom.

“Oh, I’ve missed you girls so much!”

Putting up a smile on your face, you engulfed the woman in a hug.

“Missed you too Amanda.”

“Come in! Come in!”

“Oi! David how’ve you been pops?”

“Oh, I’ve been wonderful! Glad to have you here!” He pulls you into a hug.

“There’s my favorite sister!” You hear behind you, Jacob just coming down the stairs from his room.

“Come here you! It’s been a while, huh?”

“It has! You gotta visit me more often.” You tense a bit, but not enough for him to notice in your embrace, putting up a smile on your face.

“I’ll try to visit more.”

What you don’t see behind you is Leah watching your interactions with her family.

You’ve known each other young. You’ve both been dating since you were fifteen, marrying at nineteen, divorced at twenty-one.

Her family’s have welcomed you with open arms since the beginning. You were her first serious relationship. The only one of her girlfriends that her family loved. You’ve had your whole life basically planned out, Leah would become a footballer, you a doctor, marriage, kids, the dream basically.

Leah didn’t know the exact reason why she did what she did, but it happened and she couldn’t take it back. She knew this teammate of hers has liked her for a while and never told her off.

She woke up to an unfamiliar bed, an arm around her that certainly wasn’t you. She regretted it the moment she woke up, didn’t know how to tell you, but you found out before she could. Ashamed of herself, Leah filed for divorce.

———

Leah didn’t know what she was thinking divorcing you. She didn’t have the right to be the one to file as she was the one who fucked up. It was impulsive and shameful. It was the best option she could think of at the time.

Now here she was, five years later, at the Emirates training grounds, about to run for the first time since her ACL injury. She missed you so much during this time. Every time she was injured in any way, you were always by her side nursing her back to health. You were her support system, making her fall more in love with you. This time, without you by her side, she realized how much she took you for granted, how she didn’t show you enough love, betraying you in the worst way possible.

She’d already signed the divorce papers, pressuring you to do the same all while making you go to her family’s for a dinner pretending that nothing has changed between the two of you. It was when she finally saw your signature on the papers was when she realized how she’s lost you for good.

———

Getting back home after a family walk, Amanda spots a stack of papers on the kitchen counter, a folded paper on top, along with two rings. Curious, she opens it up and quickly skims through them, shock fills her body after she finished reading.

“Leah!” She yells for her daughter.

“Yeah, mum?” Leah walks into the kitchen to see her mom holding something up.

“What the hell is this?”

Leah being clueless, grabs the sheet, reading it herself.

Leah,

I’ve finally signed everything you’ve been wanting me to sign. I don’t know why I’ve put it off for so long even if I’m not the one at fault. Guess it’s just hard to let go of the one you love the most.

Don’t contact me. Don’t look for me. You’re free.

Yn

Leah couldn’t even respond to her mother. All the emotions she bottled up came at her all at once, breaking down in front of her family. Six years of relationship, one year of marriage over.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagines #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson angst

[mykneeshurt]

Sorry

Keegan Russ x F!reader

Warnings - minors DNI, 18+, explicit smut, angst

———

‘Are you FUCKING joking?’ You screamed as you threw your very expensive vase at the wall. Keegan ducked, his cat like reflexes once again barely managing to save him. ‘You’re such a fucking liar! Fuck you!’ You stormed over to him, pushing him in his broad chest. Pure unfiltered rage pumped through your veins as you stared at the man before you.

The man who told you he loved you.

The man who made you feel safe.

The man who you allowed yourself to love.

‘I’m sorry’ he whispered, eyes glazed, the steel blue of his irises contrasted with the blood shot white of his eyes. ‘You’re sorry?! You’re fucking sorry?! Keegan you lied to me for six months. I fucking fell for you and this whole time you were using me to spy on my father. I don’t think sorry quite cuts it. Do you?’ Your voice was venomous.

‘I didn’t mean for this to happen.’ You pushed him again. ‘What? Letting it get this far? Or falling for me in the first place?’ Every limb, every fibre of you was shaking. Your mouth was dry, your eyes hurt from crying, your heart shattered into jagged shards of glass.

‘I … uh’ he stuttered.

‘I … I …’ you mocked ‘fuck you Keegan. Get out.’ As you turned to walk away he grabbed your wrist, instantly you spun round, the palm of your hand making perfect contact with his cheek. ‘Don’t touch me. We’re done.’

‘No’ he muttered as he stood defiantly in your living room. ‘Fuck you mean no? Keegan, I don’t want to see you ever again. I never ever thought you’d hurt me. But here we are.’ Your voice was low, almost a whisper. Turning again he gripped your wrist, ‘please don’t make me go.’

Tears pricked your eyes, your tired swollen eyes. You sighed, still allowing him to keep a hold of you. Your lungs felt so tight, they strained to breathe. Your bottom lip quivered as you sighed into the empty living room. The living room where you had your first kiss, where you would play fight, where he held you when your father had a fall.

Yet it was all a lie.

‘Keegan … I can’t … please let me go’ murmured, voice straining from the emotion. ‘I can’t. I can’t let you go. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want. I’ve tasted you and I don’t want anyone else. I want this. I want you. I want us.’ There was a soft thud behind you. Turning round you saw him on his knees, brows furrowed, lips pressed together.

‘Get up Keegan’ you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. ‘I’ll beg if you want me to’ he said, eyes never faltering from yours.

‘I don’t want that. I want you to go.’ He slowly rose to his feet, still holding your wrist. He closed in on you, the warmth from his body permeated your tired bones. Even feeling so angry at him his presence still soothed you, still offered you safety. You hated your body for betraying you.

Looking up at him through tear stained lashes your heart ached, your stomach twisted and turned. An unwavering abyss of emotion coursed through your body. His face was contorted, twisted with pain. He raised a hand to your cheek, using his thumb to wipe away your tears. You leant into his touch, these hands had killed people, but to you they were your sanctuary.

‘Keegan’ you whispered, your rage now confusion. He lowered his lips to yours, hovering above them, ‘I’m sorry.’ Your lip quivered at his words, you believed him, reluctantly, but it didn’t absolve him from his lies. He gently pressed his lips to yours, now cradling your face with both hands. You sank into the kiss, your mind and heart fighting against one another.

Your hands found his waist, pulling him closer. Your mind screamed at you to stop, that you would regret it. But your heart told you to keep going, that you loved each other, that you needed to feel something other than rage.

That you need him.

Lifting his shirt slightly you grazed your hands along his skin, his soft, scar littered skin. He deepened the kiss, his tongue slowly worked with yours causing you to moan softly. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach, your head fuzzy.

Wrapping his arms around your waist he picked you up, walking you slowly to the sofa. His footsteps seemed to echo in the now silent apartment. Sitting down he kept you straddling his hips, his hands rubbing your back under your t-shirt. You placed your hands on his shoulders, his broad firm shoulders. Instinctively you rolled your hips, feeling his hard cock beneath his jeans.

He groaned into your lips, using his hands he pushed your hips down urging you to grind on him. Breaking the kiss you threw your head back as he kissed and nipped at your neck, ‘fuck I need you’ he whispered.

‘I fucking hate you’ you retorted, still grinding on him, your panties now soaking with arousal.

‘Liar. You want me.’

‘No, I wanna fuckin punch you.’

‘Stop lying’ he moaned as he pulled off your t-shirt and bra. He gently kissed your collar bone before holding your chin, forcing you to look at him. The silence between you was deafening, both trying to read each others faces.

Reigniting the kiss you pulled at his shirt, removing it he threw it behind him as he placed you on your back. He made fast work of your jeans before sliding a finger against your core. ‘Oh fuck’ he whimpered as he bit his lip. ‘Take em off’ you ordered arching your back.

Pulling them off he then made fast work of his own. You pulled him back into a kiss, this time it was desperate, sloppy. Lining himself up he pushed into you, ‘fuck’ you moaned breathlessly. As he began to move you wrapped your legs around him holding him against you. He buried his face in your neck, ‘feels so good baby’ he whispered.

Staining your skin with kisses your bodies moved together, each thrust of his cock filled you as his tip grazed that spot. You could feel his muscles tense with each movement, how each one rippled beneath his skin as he fucked you. Sweat began to gather between your bodies, your arousal dripping from your stretched out cunt.

‘Harder’ you panted, ‘harder … fuck.’ He upped his pace, slamming his cock into you, his pubic bone hitting your clit. He leant back onto his knees, holding you in place by your thighs. His fingers gripping onto you with a bruising force. You watched as he jaw fell slack, biting his lips as he hissed at the sight before him. You dropped a hand to your clit, your orgasm not coming fast enough.

‘That’s it’ he praised ‘look so good sweetheart, fuck.’ Burying your face in your arm you whimpered and moaned. ‘Don’t stop Keegan, oh god!’ Placing his forearms next to your head he dropped down, kissing your neck. ‘So fuckin beautiful’ he muttered, ‘you look so beautiful taking my cock.’ Eyes shut you smiled as you licked your lips, he always knew how to praise you.

‘M close’ you managed to say in between your moans. ‘Keep goin baby, lemme feel you.’ He cupped your jaw as he caressed his thumb over your bottom lip, urging you to lose your self. With one final strum against your clit you lost yourself. Your body seized as your cunt pulsated around him, his eyes glistened as he watched you. An expression of awe written over his features.

‘Eyes on me’ he ordered, doing as you were told you focused on him. Gripping your hips he upped his rhythm, chasing his own release. ‘Gonna fill you, gonna fill this pussy, fuuuck’ he moaned. Biting your lip you played with your breasts, tweaking your nipples, teasing him.

With a final thrust he threw his head back, releasing inside you. Hot ropes of cum lined your walls, his cock pulsated inside you as he rode out his high. He still slowly moved inside you, pushing and pulling, overstimulating you both. Torturing your aching bodies.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, ‘can I stay?’ His voice hopeful. Cupping his face you kissed him deeply. ‘Yes. We’ll talk properly tomorrow.’

———

Taglist (y’all showed interest on my Keegan post) - @horsdutemps @lundenloves @sarcanti @averythang @tiredmetalenthusiast @kosmokenny

#call of duty #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ x reader #keegan x reader #call of duty keegan #keegan p russ smut #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ smut #cod keegan russ #keegan russ #keegan smut #cod keegan p russ #cod ghosts

[freelancearsonist]

I Was Fixed On Your Hand of Gold

➔ Lucien Flores x afab!Reader - 1k

➔ When Lucien gets bored, his hands start to wander. OR Lucien uses his fingers for good evil underneath the table at dinner with your friends.

➔ Rated MA for exhibitionism kink, fingering (r receiving), pet names (baby), references to smoking/nicotine use, no use of y/n, reader has female anatomy but no pronouns used. [please let me know if i missed any :)]

➔ i don't know anything about this man other than that he looks scummy and i'm in love with him. thank you to the dieter bravo brainrot club discord server for feeding my madness and to @shakespeareanwannabe for proofreading this incoherent horny babble <3 title is from 'would that i' by hozier wow what a surprise another cece fic named after a hozier song

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

It’s growled so low in your ear that you could almost believe it’s imagined. But with the way his fingers are dancing against your burning skin, tracing little circles along the length of your thigh, there’s nothing but intention in his voice–regardless of how raspy and deep it is.

Eager fingers push your skirt out of the way, impatient yet calculated. He moves slowly and with deliberation, careful not to show anything above the tablecloth.

“Don’t ignore your friends, baby,” he murmurs low into your ear so only you can hear.

It reminds you of where you are, and why this can’t happen right now. There’s five other people gathered around the table, all smiles and camaraderie and little sips of cheap wine. It’s been a good evening, really. But they’re your friends, not Lucien’s. He won them over within five minutes of meeting them and he’s been bored ever since. And when Lucien gets bored, his hands start to wander.

It’s wrong and you should really stop him. You should push his hand away before his nomadic fingers can climb any further up your thigh than they already have. But he finds the wet spot that’s pooling against your panties, and there’s no denying how much you want it.

It takes every ounce of your restraint not to moan when he finds your clit. It’s like his fingers gravitate to it, like there’s some kind of magnetic pull–even through the barrier of your panties, the cocky bastard doesn’t struggle at all.

He doesn’t even blink. His thick, practiced fingers swirl against the seat of your panties with ease and he doesn’t react even remotely when his fingers immediately come away soaked.

You’ve never been so wet in your life, watching him chuckle at the story your best friend is telling across the table and all the while pretending that his greedy, heavy fingers aren’t pushing your panties aside to swipe through the gathering slick.

Your knee jolts before you can control it and knocks against his thigh, thankfully not causing any noticeable disturbance to the rest of the table’s occupants. But the look he gives you is enough warning–head tipped down, dark eyes impossibly darker, jaw set. He looks dangerous, and it makes your traitorous cunt soak his fingers even further. He’ll only tell you once: if you can’t sit still, you’ll be going home aching and unsatisfied.

You need to come so bad in this moment that you feel like you might cry–so, despite feeling rather like a scolded child under his gaze–you lock every muscle in your body to the best of your ability and let the horrible, delicious onslaught continue.

You swallow thickly when you feel the first real press of his finger. It swirls from your clit down to your entrance, and that’s all the warning you get before he slowly, torturously presses it into your cunt.

He lets it rest, just for a moment, knuckle deep–he knows that even this single finger is a slight stretch. After a moment or two to adjust, he withdraws completely and you have to fight back the whine that builds in your throat. But before you can betray your impatience he’s back, overwhelmingly so, two fingers pressed deep and curled in the exact way that he knows will make you shatter. It’s cruel to do this to you right now, to find that most sensitive spot when you can’t moan or even shudder in reaction to the delicious onslaught of pleasure.

His fingers are relentless–there’s a skilled craft to the way his arm stays completely motionless while his middle and ring fingers flutter and scissor against your g-spot.

Your thighs shake from the sensation the closer he brings you to release. As much as you try to ignore it–to focus on the current story about something that happened in a grocery store parking lot last Thursday–he’s bringing you to the brink so fucking fast that there’s no denying it. There’s no hope for composure, especially once his calloused thumb joins in to swirl tight, rapid circles over your clit.

Above the table, you make eye contact with one of your closest friends and laugh breathlessly at the meaningless story they tell. They never even suspect that below the table, you’re squeezing and fluttering around Lucien’s hand as the most intense orgasm of your life sweeps through you.

It takes a solid few moments for you to be able to breathe normally again. And Lucien, the smug bastard, just leans back in his chair and spreads his leg comfortably, free hand resting behind his head in the most casual manner possible like he didn’t just make you come all over his fingers. And then, when he’s sure no one is looking, he brings his right hand up to his lips and sucks his fingers deep into his mouth–looking directly into your eyes as he does so. He licks every drop of your cum from his digits so carelessly in front of your friends that it nearly makes you come again.

You think he’s had his fill. Your head stops swirling and he laughs along with your friends and you think he’s done. You’re wrong. 

He takes your hand in his and laces your fingers together, guiding you ever-so-slowly to palm him through his loose sweatpants. His cock is straining, hard and insistent, against the thick cotton fabric–it makes you squirm in your own seat a little bit.

He’s impossibly casual about your touch as he wiggles a half-spent pack of Marlboros from his breast pocket.

“Go ahead, baby,” he mutters right into your ear. “Take care of your fuckin’ mess.”

And who are you to decline after he so generously took care of you?

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #lucien flores x reader #lucien flores smut #lucien flores fanfiction #lucien flores one shot #the uninvited #cece writes

[lionizingheathen]

Agreement - R.L.

Flatmate!Remus Lupin x fem!reader

Giving your flatmate, Remus Lupin a blowjob to help him relax

Warnings: Smut, Oral sex male recieving, face fucking, pet names, cum swallowing

"Y/N." Remus asked from your doorway, and you raised an eyebrow. What was he doing in your room? He didn't often just come in, normally he was invited.

"Yeah, what's up?" You glanced over at him, brows furrowing. He had bags under his eyes and his cheeks looked sallow... he hadn't been taking care of himself and he probably had forgotten to take his potion. Which he needed to do. Soon. "You look like hell, did you take your potion?" You asked, and he shook his head, rubbing his eyes. He needed to, you knew that.

"Not yet, no." He glanced around your room, as if he was worried that someone was going to be in there, listening to your conversation. "Are you willing to do something for me?" He asked, and you nodded, putting your bookmark into your book.

"Uh... Sure, what's up?" You asked, setting your book down as you sat more attentively. He was quiet, chewing on his lip thoughtfully, as if he was trying to figure out how to ask what he wanted to ask.

"Give me a blowjob." He said, and you nearly dropped your book as you looked over at him, hoping that your face didn't betray your shock at him saying that. You'd happily do that... Remus seemed like he'd be fun in bed.

"Okay... I really thought you were going to say like 'go to the store and buy me eggs' or something along that line..." You said, and he shrugged.

"I think it would help the aggression." God...

"Are you feeling agressive?" You asked and he scoffed, giving you an annoyed look. Fair, that was self explanatory and you knew it.

"Of course I am. You know I am." Remus snapped, and you rolled your eyes. Werewolves. So dramatic... probably. Remus was the only one that you'd met.

"Normally you just... handle it, I don't know." You said flippently, and he was quiet.

"How did you know that?" He asked, and you chewed on your lip. Caught.

"The walls are thin, Remus. I know a lot of what you get up to." You murmured, giving him a half smile. He grimaced, picking at the ends of his sleeves as he spoke, clearly not appreciating how easily you had said that to him.

"That's incredibly disconcerning, I don't like that at all." He mumbled, and you shrugged, kicking your feet up on your desk once again. Clearly this would probably just end in a conversation, nothing more, so there was no need to be sitting at attention.

"Move out, then. Get a more expensive apartment." You sighed, and he was silent for a moment, leaning against your wall, fiddling with his fingers.

"Are you listening to me on purpose?" He asked, and you felt your face get hot. Yes. But only sometimes, only when you needed to get off... only when you wanted to fantasize.

"No."

"You're lying." He said, and you shook your head. Yeah, you were lying but he didn;'t need to know that.

"I'm not lying, I have never intentionally tuned into you while you're wanking, Remus." You said, and he chuckled, pushing off the wall to stretch up, the hem of his sweater coming up as he did.

"I have." He sighed, and your head snapped away from the strip of skin and back to his face. What?

"Hm?" You asked, and he shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets as he kicked his foot at the ground.

"Intentionally tuned into you while you're wanking... or while you're being fucked." He said, and you felt like you were going to fall out of your chair. What the fuck?

"Why?" He asked, and he shrugged, taking a step closer to you as he spoke. God, this energy looked fucking good on him.

"Becuase I know I could do it better than any of them. I'd have you trembling and screaming within moments and they can't even last long enough to make you cum. You've got horrible taste in guys." He said, and you rolled your eyes. Most of them were scared off by Remus, it wasn't as if you had a long line of suitors.

"Shut up." He flicked his eyebrow up at you.

"Come suck my cock and I will." He said, and you tried to ignore the pang between your thighs. This was all about making him feel better.

"Demanding."

"Tie your hair up and get the fuck over here." He said, and you did just that, standing up to walk over to him.

"Sit on the edge of my bed." You sighed, and he nodded, sitting down with his hands splayed behind him, a small smirk on his face. The way that the deep scar on his cheek distorted it slightly... God.

"Okay..." He said and you walked over, falling to your knees beside him. You didn't miss the way that he inhaled sharply at that, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. You unbuttoned his pants, tapping his hip lightly so he would lift his hips. You dragged his pants down his thighs, his boxers quickly following, making his cock spring up against his stomach. It was thick and long, intimidating. You brought a hand up to wrap around it, unable to meet your fingers on either side. He was bigger than moast people you'd been with... and he probably knew how to use it.

"Holy fuck." You murmured, brushing your thumb over the tip, making him jump as he hissed out a breath. So sensitive.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked, and you smiled up at him, jerking your hand up and down his cock, making him let out a low and throaty groan.

"Nothing... You're just really big." You said, and you kissed up the side of his cock, flicking your tongue over the veins. "And your cock is really pretty." You murmured, and he let out a nervous sort of chuckle, clearly trying to keep from thrusting into your face.

"I don't know if I agree with that..." His voice jumped up as you brought the tip of his cock into your mouth, licking over the slit, tasting the precum that was leaking from it. It made your cunt throb.

"You taste good." You murmured, pulling back for a moment to lick up the side before sucking on the tip again, enjoying his movements, the way he was quickly becoming desperate. There was a reason people finished so fast when they were with you.

"Please get on with it." He groaned, and you opened your mouth wider, taking him further into your mouth, choking when he hit the back of your throat. He pulled away from you. "You don't have to take it all, I understand-." You shook your head, looking up at him with a wide smile.

"I want you to fuck my throat until it's raw, Remus. Stop being polite when you were just being demanding." You said, and he nodded, taking a deep breath.

"... Okay." You swallowed him down quickly, forcing yourself to take him all the way down your throat, making him let out a loud shout of your name. Your neighbors were gonna hate this... not that you cared. "Merlin's... fuck... your mouth is so warm..." He moaned, and you bobbed your head up and down, trying to take more of him. You wanted all of him down your throat.

"Mmmph." You groaned, and he pressed his hand into your hair, lifting his hips to fuck into your throat, making him hiss.

"Tight... your throat is so tight." He sighed. "Holy shit, you look even prettier than I could've imagined." You blushed, but pulled back. He was being too gentle, too sweet... he needed release, he didn't need sweet.

"Fuck, Remus. I'm doing this so you can take out your aggression. So use me." You instructed, and you watched as he shivered, throwing his head back for a moment. He was beautiful, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat, his stomach rising and falling quickly, knuckles white as he gripped your comforter. He looked nearly feral when he glanced back down at you, shaking his head.

"You can't talk like that." He said, and you shrugged, smirking at him as you leaned back in, flicking your tongue out across his tip.

"Then shut me up, or I'll continue." He pulled you back down, letting out a laugh that almost came off as bitter.

"You're so fucking cocky." He fucked your face faster, making you choke around him. Your cunt clenched around nothing as you thought of him taking you like this, fucking your cunt until it was ruined for anyone else. "It'd be annoying if you weren't fit." He grunted, and your eyes rolled back as he forced himself deeper. You breathed out of your nose, wanting to let him use your throat for as long as you could.

"You were made for this. Made to be my cocksleeve, weren't you?" He groaned, and you blushed. You would've nodded had he not chosen to increase his pace. Fuck.

"Mhm."

"I bet your cunt is even better... I'll be taking that soon as well. Maybe I should just do this every time I get angry... come in here and fuck you until I'm relaxed, would you like that?" He pulled you up by your hair, glaring down at you as you gasped for air. "I asked you a fucking question." He said, and you nodded. God, that sounded good.

"Yes... Open door policy." You coughed, and he nodded, giving you a large grin as he tugged your hair, making you swallow his cock once again

"Good girl. That's what I was thinking." He murmured. He held your head down, making your eyes water as your nose pressed agianst his pelvis. You dug your nails into his thighs, choking around him as he let you go, let you get a breath in before he began again, fucking your throat in earnest. God, this was hot.

"Fuck, you're so good at this baby, so good..." You brought your hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit, whimpering at how swollen it was. God, you wanted to cum. Above you, Remus growled, yanking hard on your hair. "Don't touch yourself, I want you to be horny for me... in case I need more. Gotta have you ready." He groaned, and you pulled your hand away, whimpering at the loss as you chose instead to scratch at his legs, making him let out a high moan. Fuck, he sounded so pretty.

"I'm getting close baby. So close." He groaned, chewing on his lips as he continued fucking your throat, his pace getting sloppy. This was perfect... Remus Lupin using your throat, you could cross something off your bucket list.

"I'm cumming..." He held your hair, making sure you wouldn't pull off... not that you were planning on it. "Fuck... Y/N! Swallow it... Take it all, baby." He gasped as he came down your throat. You swallowed around him frantically, moaning at the taste... God, everything about him was utterly intoxicating. You sat back on your kness, giving him a wide smile before you let yourself drop onto his lap.

"Jesus, that was..." You sighed, shaking your head.

"Was it too much?" He asked, and you shook your head, easing him back onto the bed.

"Remus, that was the hottest thing I've ever experienced." You promised, him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek as you settled down beside him.

"Really?" He asked, and you nodded, lunging forward to press a kiss to his lips. He looked shocked when you pulled back, and for a moment you were worried that you'd misread the situation, before he pulled you back in, kissing you deeply. You moaned into his mouth, grinding your slick cunt onto his skin blindly, needing any friction you could get... God, you needed to feel him inside you.

"Yeah." You rolled on top of him, straddling his waist. "I need you to fuck me." You said, and he let out a long sigh, chuckling at the end of it as he shook his head, resting his hands on your hips.

"I need to recover for a moment... Can't... I need to rest. But we will. I promise." He said, and you nodded, looking away from him as you slid to the side, feeling embarrassed as you sat on the edge of the bed.

"Right, sorry." You said, and a moment later you felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back down beside him.

"S'okay." You laid like that for a moment, silent, existing in each other's space. "You know? We actually do need some eggs and some bread... milk too..." He mumbled into your hair, and you chuckled.

"I'll go get them." You sighed, and he let out a groan as you stood up, taking yourself out of his arms. You watched as he burrowed into the blankets, giving you an almost-glare.

"Hurry back. I'll be waiting." He mumbled, and you paused for a moment. He was going to fuck you when you were back... there were steps that should be taken.

"Should I get condoms too?" You asked, and he shook his head, giving you a large, lazy grin as he rolled over, laying on his stomach. He looked good, tangled up in your sheets.

"Oh, we're not using them, just take a potion..." He paused for a moment, looking worried. "Is that okay?" His question was soft and gentle, a far cry from the first one he'd asked this evening. You gave him a smile as you shrugged on your sweater and nodded. There was nothing more okay than that.

"Fuck yes. I'll be back." You said, shutting the door behind you with a large grin growing on your face, replacing the tentative one from moments earlier.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #harry potter x fem!reader #harry potter x yn #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #hp smut #hp fluff #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #hp x reader #marauders smut #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders x yn #marauders era #marauders x you #marauders fanfiction #marauders fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff

[ro-is-struggling]

Breakfast Is Served || Stucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky decides to have you for breakfast. When Steve interrupts you, he asks him to join in and the both of them feast on you. 

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, Porn without plot (like there's literally no plot, just filth), dom!Bucky (trust me, it’s a warning), fingering, edging, oral sex (f & m receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, slight degradation/name calling (slut), cum play kinda, praise kink, overstimulation, threesome, fluff at the end. No real Stucky action, just them having their fun with the reader ;) (although Bucky kinda fucks them both in a way👀)

English is not my first language

Word count: 7800

Notes: it's my first time writing both a threesome and a Stucky x Reader fic so I'm sorry if it sucks :(

Also this is a direct continuation of Let Me Help so READ PART 1 HERE

Bucky's hand traveled from your hip to your ass, squeezing your flesh over the thin fabric of your pajama pants before giving you a spank. It wasn't hard, just enough to awaken a tingling sensation on your skin, but you still let out a moan. It was more from surprise than pain, jumping in place as soon as his hand made contact with your backside. Your eyes darted down the hallway, checking to make sure Steve didn't emerge from the bathroom before pushing your hips back, making contact with Bucky's semi-hard cock. 

It was wrong. You knew it was wrong. Steve and Bucky were your friends and you weren't supposed to play with them like that. Not only had you betrayed your agreement with Bucky, but you had dragged Steve into the middle of it all. You were a horrible person, a depraved whore, but you couldn't help but feel a desperate attraction to both of them and you were tired of hiding it. Screw your friendship! This was more fun anyway.

"Did you enjoy making him cum?" Bucky growled in your ear, planting a couple of wet kisses along your neck before pulling away only a few inches so he could remove your pants. You put up no resistance, letting him do whatever he wanted with you. "Of course you did, you dirty little slut. You're soaking through your panties." 

Bucky's fingers stroked your pussy over the small cotton fabric covering you, paying special attention to your swollen bundle of nerves that was desperate for some friction. It felt wonderful, but it wasn't enough. You needed more, much more. Your pussy was aching for relief and a simple rubbing over your panties wasn't going to get you there.

"Bucky, please." You whimpered, grinding your hips against his hand in a desperate attempt to create more friction. Maybe if he was quick you could get the relief you so desperately craved before Steve interrupted you. 

"What is it, doll? You wanna cum, is that it?" He sounded so condescending that you were sure if you were in any other situation you would have hit him for talking to you that way. But at that moment you were too desperate to pretend that his teasing tone didn't turn you on. "Are you that desperate that you don't even care if Steve walks in on us?" 

"He won't if you're quick, Bucky, pleaseee." You begged him, feeling tears of frustration begin to form in your eyes. You were ready to cry if that's what he wanted, anything to feel his hands exploring your body as he brought you to that sweet relief.

"And what makes you think you deserve to cum?" You could hear the smile in his voice. He was enjoying torturing you, raising your hopes as he pushed your panties aside only to move his fingers up and down your wet folds avoiding the place where you needed him most. 

"Only good girls get to cum and you've been a very, very bad girl." The rasp in his voice did nothing to ease the pressure in your stomach, it only added fuel to the fire burning inside you.

You wanted to cry, the frustration mixed with the excitement was starting to become too much. You needed relief and you needed it now, you were willing to do anything to get it. You opened your mouth to beg one more time, at this point you knew how much Bucky enjoyed it. However, the only thing that came out of your mouth was a moan of surprise as you felt Bucky's index and middle fingers suddenly thrust into your dripping hole. 

Your velvety walls welcomed them gladly, your pussy crying out in pleasure as you finally got the attention you so desperately needed. When Bucky curved his fingers inside you, he reached that soft, spongy part inside you that made you see stars. You dropped onto the counter, eyes closed as you bit down on your arm to keep from moaning. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body, pure electricity traveling through your veins as your warm, wet walls clenched over Bucky's fingers, clinging desperately to them in an attempt to hold them in place until you got the relief you so desperately needed.

"Why didn't you tell me you liked Steve, doll?" Bucky's deep voice echoed behind you, the fingers of his free hand entwining in your hair and tugging the strands until he brought your ear close to his mouth. "The three of us could have had some fun... Oh you like the sound of that, don't you, doll? Of course you do, you naughty little slut."

"F-fuck, Bucky, please... I'm so close." You begged, feeling your orgasm approaching. Every word out of Bucky's mouth, every gasp or degrading nickname went straight to your center, his filthy mouth working together with his fingers to push you closer and closer to the edge. 

"You wanna cum, baby? You wanna cum on my fingers?" You nodded fervently, mumbling incoherently as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten with each movement of his fingers. You were so close you could feel the force of your orgasm struggling to break free.

"Well, too bad."

And just like that, Bucky removed his fingers from inside you, leaving you unsatisfied and confused. You couldn't contain the frustrated whimper that escaped your lips, tears building up your eyes as your pussy tightened around nothing, missing Bucky's long fingers.

"Bucky, what the hell?" you tried not to scream so as not to alert Steve, but the annoyance was clear in your voice. 

"I told you, doll, only good girls get to come." He kept eye contact with you as he brought his fingers to his mouth, savoring your taste on his skin as he moaned against his digits. You couldn't look away even though you wanted to, mesmerized by the sensual flick of his tongue. He gave you a cocky smile before returning to his place at the table, closing the newspaper that had been left forgotten there and folding it in two as if preparing to go about his morning routine.

"Bucky we don't have time for this. Steve is gonna come out of the shower any minute now."

"That didn't seem to matter to you two seconds ago." You let out a snort at the arrogance in his voice, shaking your head as you prepared to disappear into your room to take matters into your own hands. However, Bucky didn't let you get past him, closing his fingers around your arm to stop you. "I didn't say you could leave. I'm not done with you yet." 

And just like that, he had you under his spell again. 

You let him pull you closer to him, enjoying the way his hands roamed your body, caressing every inch of skin in their path. His playful fingers slipped underneath your pajama top, up your stomach until they reached your breasts. Your nipples reacted to his touch immediately, hardening under his palms. When he pinched them, you bit your lip to keep from letting out a moan.

You didn't question him when he removed your panties, you just reveled in the softness of his caresses as he moved the piece of fabric down your legs. Once they were on the floor you stepped out of them, letting Bucky settle you on the table in front of him with your legs spread and your pussy exposed to his hungry gaze. The blue in his eyes had darkened letting you know how desperate he was for you. 

"I'm hungry, doll. You interrupted my breakfast and now you're not leaving this table until I'm satisfied." Bucky didn't give you time to react, he just dove right between your legs, lapping up your juices like a man starving.

Your hands flew to his hair, pressing his face against your center to make sure he didn't go anywhere this time. His tongue was very skilled and knew exactly what to do to make a mess of you. Granted, you were already very sensitive from all the edging, so you weren't going to last long anyway, but you knew full well that even if you weren't so desperate, Bucky was capable of taking you over the edge at record speed with his sinful tongue. 

When he caught your clit between his lips and sucked you let out a loud moan. Your back was to the hallway, so you momentarily forgot about the possibility of Steve appearing there at any moment. The whole world around you ceased to exist as you felt your orgasm approaching for the second time. 

Your thighs closed around Bucky's head, trapping him in place as your body began to shake with pleasure. It felt as if your orgasm was going to be too intense and for a moment you panicked. You tried to pull away from Bucky to catch your breath and give your body some time to prepare for what was to come, but he wouldn't let you. His hands closed over your hips, fingers digging into your flesh to hold you in place. 

"Fuck, Bucky, I can't... 's too much." You mumbled incoherently, but he didn't stop. He showed you no mercy as he licked your pussy like it was the tastiest candy he'd ever tasted, taking what he wanted from you. 

However, fate forced him to give you a break when Steve's horrified and embarrassed voice brought you back to the real world. The blond apologized awkwardly, unsure of how to react to such a situation. He had made the mistake of entering the room while drying his hair with a towel after his much-needed shower and didn't realize what was happening until it was too late.

"Don't be sorry, Steve. You're just on time for breakfast." Bucky spoke, emerging from between your legs to look at his friend. He moved his chair to the side, leaving a space at the table for him to sit down to feast with you as well. Steve froze in place, though he couldn't stop his eyes from traveling to your glistening pussy. It looked so pretty and inviting, tempting his self-control.

"Don't worry, she doesn't mind. Don't you, doll?" Steve felt his cock twitching in his pants as he looked up to see you. You looked completely wrecked, your hair disheveled and your eyes glassy. Your breathing was accelerated, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to come down from your high.

"Steve, please." You begged in a hoarse voice. "I need you, baby." You sounded pathetic, completely desperate, but it was enough to convince him. Steve approached you slowly, sitting down in the free chair next to Bucky. He was tense, you could see it in the stiffness of his shoulders, but the darkness in his eyes told you he wanted this as much as you did. He was just a little nervous.

"I don't know how- I never have-" He tried to explain his situation, but stopped himself both times. He knew you guys wouldn't judge him for his lack of experience, but he still felt silly admitting he had no idea how to eat a woman out.

"That's okay, pal. That's why I'm here." Bucky gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder before returning his attention to you. "Just watch and learn." He buried his face between your legs once more, leaning slightly to the side so Steve had a view of the way his tongue flicked over your clit.

You let out a loud moan as Bucky's lips made contact with your wet folds, pulling your head back as you let yourself be carried away by the pleasure. It was the most beautiful sight Steve had ever seen. You looked like an angel with the sunlight streaming through the window framing your figure, one that promised to make his darkest fantasies come true. The sounds escaping from your mouth were music to his ears, the pleas for more going straight to his cock. He couldn't wait to be the cause of your cries of pleasure, to have his name fall from your lips like a mantra as he pushed you over the edge. 

"This little bundle of nerves right here is your best friend when you're trying to get a woman to come." Bucky's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. He reluctantly took his eyes away from your expression of pure pleasure, concentrating on the valuable information his friend was providing. "Here, you try it... don't worry, I promise you she'll love it. Just start slow, don't put too much pressure."

Steve moved his trembling hand to your center, taking the time to caress the soft skin of your thighs before running a finger over your glistening folds. You were so wet that he had no difficulty at all, his digit sliding easily up to your clit. He then followed his friend's advice, drawing small circles over the bundle of nerves without applying too much pressure.

"F-fuck." He heard your breathy moan and lifted his gaze to watch you. Your eyes were closed, your teeth clenched over your lower lip as you tried to contain the involuntary twitching of your hips. You wanted to let Steve take his time exploring your body, to learn with you how to please a woman, but you were also desperate for relief. 

"See? She likes that! Don't you, doll?"

"Y-yes, yes! Steve, please." You begged. His finger felt good, but you needed more. You wanted to feel more of him, to have him show you how much he wanted to make you cum.

"Oh, she's so close." Bucky let out a low chuckle. "She's desperate to cum. But she needs more, so why don't you settle down there in between her legs? I'll guide you through what she likes." 

Steve was desperate to taste you, so as much as he felt the funny feeling of nerves in his stomach, he settled down between your legs. He couldn't resist the urge to kiss your thighs, slowly making his way to the place where you needed him most. He could smell your desire from there, see your pussy dripping with need as your anticipation grew.

"Start by licking a line up her slit, then focus your attention on her clit. Go slow." He heard Bucky instructing him and he followed his orders to the letter. Steve moaned as he felt the sweet taste of your arousal against his tongue, the vibrations adding to the pleasure he was giving you. 

"She tastes good, doesn't she?" Bucky asked him, a knowing smile plastered on his lips. 

"Fuck yes," Steve spoke against your pussy, his breath crashing against your sensitive clit and making you gasp. "It's the sweetest thing I've ever tasted."

"I know, right?" The brunet nodded, patting his friend's back lightly before pulling away a little to give him his space. There was something incredibly erotic about the way the two men talked about your taste like it was some nectar of the gods, it made you feel special in a way, desired. No man had ever eaten your pussy with such desperation before. "Try putting your tongue inside her, it's even better."

You didn't even have time to process Bucky's words before you felt Steve's tongue pushing its way into your tight hole. His nose was rubbing your clit in a delicious way and you had to fight your body not to move your hips against his face. You knew this was his first time doing something like this —even if it didn't feel like it— and you wanted to let him be in control, to work out what he felt comfortable doing. But when he moved his tongue inside you, your body twitched involuntarily, your nervous system responding automatically to the rush of pleasure coursing through you.

"Oh, fuck… just like that, baby… don't stop." You moaned desperately, voice laced with need as you buried your fingers in his hair to hold his head in place. "You're doing so good for me, Stevie... such a good job, m-making me feel so goo- fuck!" your praise only encouraged Steve more, giving him the confidence he needed to start experimenting with his techniques. His cock was painfully hard in his pants again, throbbing every time he earned a moan from you. But his pleasure didn't matter at that moment, all he wanted was to feel you cum on his tongue. 

"Does that feel good, doll?" Bucky's deep voice echoed in your ears. "You like to feel Steve's tongue deep inside you?" you moaned back as Steve moved his tongue in a different way, reaching new places that made your vision blurry. "Of course you do, you slut. You love to get tongue fuck by him while I watch... you love being our little fuck doll, ready to please and take everything we give you." 

Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing your breasts over your pajama top. Your nipples stood hard under his fingers, a clear sign of how turned on you were. You felt like you were on fire, your head spinning with pleasure. The combination of Steve's sinful mouth and Bucky's dirty words were too much for your poor system and you were short-circuiting, reduced to a mess of incoherent moans as you felt your orgasm approaching for the third time. You didn't even realize Bucky had removed your shirt until you felt his lips closing over your left nipple, sucking on the little bundle until you let out a whimper of pleasure.

"She's getting close." Bucky warned Steve, talking to his friend as if you weren't in the room. It was incredibly hot the way he could tell you were close to cumming without you having to tell him. He knew you that well. "Put a finger inside her, you're gonna want to feel her clenching around it as she cums, trust me."

"Fuck, right there, Steve, please." You moaned as you felt his finger pressing against that spongy place deep inside you. You dropped onto Bucky, hiding your face in his shoulder as you felt your orgasm approaching. The knot in your stomach tightened with each flick of Steve's tongue over your abused bundle of nerves, a warm sensation spreading through your abdomen as your legs began to tremble.

"You're gonna be a good girl and cum for us, doll?" Bucky encouraged, murmuring in your ear as he pinched your nipples between his fingers, adding a slight sensation of pain that mingled with pleasure in a delicious way. "You're gonna be a good girl and cum all over Stevie's face? Look at him, he wants it so bad, baby. He's desperate to feel you cum."

As if he sought to add veracity to Bucky's words, Steve moaned against your pussy, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He felt your warm walls closing around his finger, burying it deep inside you as your hips moved against his face, fucking yourself into him. You were so tight and warm that he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be inside you, to feel your velvety walls tightening around his member as you came, milking his cock until there wasn't a drop of cum left in him.

"Suck her clit into your mouth, hard." Bucky instructed and Steve obeyed, closing his lips over the bundle of nerves and sucking hard. Your hips lifted off the table and Bucky had to press his arm against your lower belly to hold you in place. That added a new sensation, a pressure that threatened to push you over the edge. 

"C'mon, doll, cum for us. We want to hear you. We want to see you come undone for us, c'mon." And as if Bucky's words were a command, your body immediately complied. The moan that escaped your lips was a sound neither Steve nor Bucky would ever forget, traveling straight to their cocks as they pushed you over the edge. 

Your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body as you cried out. Your trembling legs closed around Steve's head, holding him in place. Not that he was complaining, he was more than happy to stay between your legs, licking everything you had to offer him. Your essence was his new favorite drug, the only thing he wanted to savor for the rest of his life. However, he was forced to pull away from you as you began to cry from the overstimulation, your body unsure of what to do as it felt both so good and so overwhelmed at the same time. 

You could hear Bucky's voice in the distance, praising you for behaving so well, but you were too far gone to be able to process exactly what he was saying. Your mind was spinning, eyes slightly out of focus. All you could do was feel. Feel the electricity coursing through your veins. Feel Steve's hands caressing your legs as he watched you in complete awe of your beauty. Feel Bucky's warm breath against your neck as he spoke, his lips brushing your skin with every word that came from his lips. It was the hardest you had ever come in your life, neither your body nor your mind seemed prepared to withstand such pleasure.

“Are you there, doll?” You only managed to weakly nod your head, doubting your ability to form coherent sentences at that moment. "Good, cause we're not done with you yet." Your eyes opened wide at his words, not knowing how to feel about it. You were tired, destroyed by the force of your orgasm, but at the same time the possibility of feeling Bucky and Steve's hands on your body again were too tempting to pass up. 

"You think you can handle it?" You nodded again, looking up at Bucky with sparkling eyes. "Use your words like a big girl."

"Yes, I can handle it, please." You assured him in a raspy voice, sitting up straight on the table, posture erect and gaze expectant as a way of showing Bucky that you were a good girl who knew how to behave.

"Always so eager to please, my good girl." He smiled, planting a soft, sensual kiss on your lips.  You kissed him back with fervent enthusiasm, burying your fingers in his hair to draw him even closer to you. When you moaned against his lips he picked up the pace, his tongue entering your mouth and engaging with yours in a sinful dance that took your breath away. 

You lost yourself in the moment, the world around you disappearing as you surrendered under Bucky's dominance. He was a damn good kisser and knew exactly what to do to leave you dazed when he broke away. He always had to hold back a proud smile when he saw the effects of his lips on your face, your half-closed eyes slightly unfocused with no thought behind them, only desire. And that time was no exception. 

You whimpered when his lips parted from yours, immediately seeking contact again. But he stopped you, giving you a firm look that told you to stay in place. "Don't be rude, doll." He said, shaking his head. "Show poor Stevie some love too. We don't want him to feel left out."

Remembering that you weren't alone there, your gaze fell on Steve. He looked like a mess, tangled hair, cheeks slightly flushed and puffy lips still glistening with your release. His appearance contrasted with the innocence in his eyes in a delightful way. It awakened something in you, a fire deep within you that urged you toward him. So you answered your body's needs, pulling Steve to you and pressing your lips to his.

You didn't have to fight him to gain dominance, he willingly surrendered to you the moment your tongue caressed his lips. You could taste yourself in him, the sweet evidence of your release still present in his mouth. That only fueled you more, wanting to repay him for making you feel so good. Your hands roamed over his body, caressing his chest, down his flat abdomen to the bulge in his pants.

Steve moaned against your lips as he felt your palm press against his erection, cock throbbing in his pants desperate for relief. He had cum about 20 minutes before, but it didn't really feel like it. He was just as desperate —if not more so— for your attention as he had been in the morning. He needed you more than he'd ever needed anyone. You were the only one who could make him feel that way. You owned him body and soul. 

There was nothing he could do to stop his body from reacting to your touch - and he didn't want to anyway. All he could do was relax under your touch and trust you to bring him back to that sweet abyss of pleasure. When your hand went inside his underwear he let out a pathetic moan. He didn't care about being right in front of Bucky —hell, part of him liked that he was there—, he didn't even care about showing how needy he was. All he cared about was feeling you close to him, feeling your hands on his body as you brought him to the edge. 

"Aw, poor Stevie needs some release." Bucky teased, a playful smile plastered on his lips. "You wanna give it to him, don't you, doll? You wanna make him feel good?"

"Yes! I want to make you both feel good." You turned your gaze away from Steve to focus on Bucky for a moment, though your hand remained buried in his pants.

"Of course you do. You're such a good girl for us." Bucky kissed you once more and you felt Steve's cock twitch beneath your hand as he watched the two of you. "Ready for your breakfast, doll?"

Bucky carried you in his arms to the couch, declaring that it would be better if you settled somewhere more comfortable for what he had in mind. He had Steve sit on one end of the couch, placing you next to him as he took a moment to remove his pajama top. 

"Well, go on doll, eat your breakfast." He said as you looked at him expectantly, waiting for his permission or some sort of instruction. Bucky gently caressed your cheek before turning your face to Steve. He was looking at you with big, dark eyes full of pleasure, his dick throbbing as he understood the implications behind his friend's words.

You didn't waste a second, your hands traveling quickly to Steve's pants to free his member from its confinement. Your eyes met his one last time, a silent question written in them. He nodded, giving you the consent you needed to continue.

Your tongue pressed against the vein that ran along the underside of his shaft as you licked a long line from the base of his cock to the tip. Your tongue trailed up his skin in an almost torturous manner, giving him a small taste of what was to come without actually giving it to him. His eyes never left yours, deep blue orbs staring intently at you as you teased him. You were having your fun, taking your time to find out what things made Steve react. He knew it and enjoyed it too. He was desperate for relief, yes, and there was nothing he wanted more than to feel your lips wrap around his cock, but he enjoyed the tension in the air, the extra attention you were putting on him. It made him feel special in a way. So he let you have your fun, holding back the urge to thrust his hips upward as your tongue circled around his flushed, swollen tip.

"I knew you'd taste fucking delicious, baby." You moaned against his cock, reveling in the salty taste of his pre cum. "I need more." Steve didn't have time to even process your words before he felt your lips closing over the tip of his cock, sucking it into your mouth. The moan that escaped his lips was pathetic, but he was too lost in pleasure to care. He had never felt anything like that before. It was almost overwhelming. Just the image of his cock slowly disappearing inside your mouth was enough to drive him over the edge, his balls tightening with the threat of release.

"She's really good at that, isn't she?" Steve heard Bucky's voice in the distance, making him remember you weren't alone.

"Y-yeah, f-fuck, so good." He managed to mumble between ragged breaths, fists clenching on the material of the couch until his knuckles turned white.

You felt like a goddess being praised by both men, pure pleasure coursing through your body even when neither of them were touching you. All it took was their lustful glances and desperate comments to ignite the fire in your stomach once again. 

For a moment you forgot your own satisfaction, ignoring your throbbing pussy in order to concentrate on pleasuring Steve. It wasn't as if you weren't enjoying it, you loved feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue and hearing the moans of pleasure escaping his lips. It was more than enough to keep you on the edge, though not enough to push you beyond it. But you didn't care, all you wanted was to give him the relief he needed, to hear him moan your name as he emptied his load into your mouth, painting the back of your throat white. Showing Steve pleasures he didn't know about, being the first woman in his life to touch him like that and make him feel so good was pleasurable enough for you.

At least, until you felt Bucky's hands gripping your hips. He settled you on the couch without any trouble, manhandling you as if you weighed nothing until your face was pushed against Steve's dick and your ass was up in the air. He positioned himself behind you, caressing the soft skin of your ass before giving you a hard spank that took you by surprise. You flinched, letting out a moan that vibrated around Steve's dick in your mouth. You heard him curse under his breath, throwing his head back as he tightened his grip on the couch cushions. Bucky chuckled under his breath, repeating the action a couple of times, no doubt in an effort to push Steve over the edge. 

When Bucky pressed his member against your wet pussy, you knew he was teasing you too. He slid his shaft up and down your folds, intentionally missing the spot where you needed it most. You tried to push yourself against him, silently telling him you were ready to take whatever he wanted to give you, but his firm grip on your hips prevented you from doing so.

"What is it, doll? You seem desperate." Bucky teased, enjoying the whimpers that escaped your lips, muffled by Steve's cock that kept you from communicating properly. "You want me to fuck you, is that it? You want me to fuck you while you have Steve's dick buried deep down in your throat, huh?" 

The desperate moan you let out was all the confirmation Bucky needed. As much fun as it was to be in control, playing with you and by extension Steve, he was getting impatient. His hard cock was throbbing with need, tip red and swollen as drops of pre cum leaked from the slit. So he buried himself inside you giving you almost no warning, pushing you against Steve's cock with the force of his thrust. You gagged around him, eyes rolling into the back of your head as a rush of electricity spread throughout your body.

Bucky lost himself in you for a moment, relishing in the way your warm, wet walls closed around his member. He held still for a moment, giving you a chance to adjust to his member, before he began to move his hips against yours in a torturous rhythm. There was no time for gentleness, to take his time with you and slowly bring you —and him— to the edge. There was a sense of urgency in the air, of desperation, that enveloped the three of you as you worked together to get some relief.

Each thrust of Bucky's hips pushed you further onto Steve's member, your uncontrollable moans vibrating around him adding to the pleasure he felt. As your hands began to toy with his balls, his abdomen tensed, feeling his orgasm getting closer and closer. He didn't want to cum yet, he didn't want the moment to end. He wanted to enjoy the warmth of your mouth on him for a while longer, so he fought to contain the pleasure he was feeling. It wasn't an easy task, not when Bucky seemed to be making you feel so good with every little movement. He had to fight his body not to push his hips up since he didn't want to hurt you, squeezing the couch cushions tightly as a way to keep himself grounded.

"You can grab her hair, Stevie, she doesn't mind." Bucky's voice echoing in his ears made him open his eyes. Though it was a mistake because seeing the state you were in —eyes watery, pupils dilated, lips swollen around his cock— did nothing but tighten the knot in his stomach, bringing him closer to the breaking point. "She likes it. You can use it to guide her movements, like this." 

Bucky grabbed your hair in a fist, his fingers burying themselves in the messy locks to get a firm grip on your head. When he pulled you back hard, you couldn't help but let out a whimper of mixed pain and pleasure. He pushed you away from Steve until only the tip of his cock remained buried in your mouth, ordering you to suck on it before slowly lowering your head back down to him. For the next few moments, Bucky controlled the rhythm and the way you pleasured Steve, making you bob your head up and down his dick at a tortuous peace, effectively fucking him with your mouth. 

His assault on you never ceased, his hips moving slowly and sensually against yours as he used you for his and Steve's pleasure. He enjoyed the control, how powerful it made him feel to have you both moaning desperately because of him. Seeing Steve's face as he tried not to cum and feeling the way your velvety walls closed around his cock was an explosive combination. A sinful image that brought him closer and closer to his orgasm. So, to try to bring you closer to your limit as well, he pushed your head down, forcing you to take Steve's cock down your throat. He held you in that position for a few seconds, enjoying the pathetic whimpers that involuntarily escaped Steve's lips. 

When you gagged, Bucky lifted your head up and away from Steve's dick to give you a chance to breathe. He pulled you closer to him using the firm grip he had on your hair, pressing his torso against your back as he tilted your head so he could get a better look at you. You were a mess of tears and saliva, your swollen lips slightly parted as you struggled to breathe.

“She loves being used, don’t you, doll?” Bucky said, placing a kiss on your cheek. It was a tender touch that contrasted with what he was saying, a way of rewarding you for your good behavior. "Tell Stevie how much you like to be used, baby. Tell him it's okay if he fucks your throat or pulls your hair." He tilted your head so you could look at Steve, never loosening his grip on your hair.

"I-I love being used... I want you to use me for your pleasure, baby." You managed to say between accelerated breaths, feeling your walls tighten around Bucky's cock with every word that escaped your lips. "I want to feel your cock down my throat as you come undone for me, baby, please."

Steve almost choked on his own saliva as he swallowed, unable to believe that what was happening was real and not part of one of his deepest fantasies. It didn't seem real to him to have you naked in front of him, tears in your eyes and lips swollen as you begged for his cock. It was too much for him, he was convinced that his poor heart wouldn't be able to hold out much longer —in fact, he was surprised that he hadn't already had an asthma attack from his labored breathing. But still, he needed to feel your throat closing around his cock even if that was the last thing he did. He needed release and you were the only one who could give it to him.

When Bucky pulled you into him again, Steve reached out to cup your face. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the gentleness of his caress, a nice contrast to the roughness and intensity of the moment. Slowly, his hand slid upward, losing itself in your messy locks. He gathered your hair in his fist in a gentle grip, slowly easing himself into this new and unfamiliar territory. You gave him a small smile, a way of reassuring him that you were okay with it to try to calm his nerves. That seemed to help, because you felt him tighten his grip on your hair before guiding your mouth to his member again.

You let him take control, his hands guiding the movement of your mouth as you felt Bucky increase the pace of his thrusts. All three of you were close to the edge, you could tell by the desperate way your bodies were moving, but none of you wanted the moment to end. You wanted to live forever in that beautiful bliss, wrapped in each other's warmth as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your bodies. However, you were determined to make Steve cum before you did. You needed to feel his cock throbbing in your mouth as he emptied his load down your throat, fingers clutching at your hair to hold you in place. You needed to hear him moan your name in desperation as you drove him to the edge of pleasure.

“Oh f-fuck, I'm s-so close." Steve tried to warn you between shaky breaths. You moaned around him, using every trick you knew to push him over the edge. His grip on your hair tightened, pain mixing with pleasure as you felt Bucky's fingers toy with your clit seeking to bring you to the same state of desperation as Steve. 

You felt his cock throbbing in your mouth, his balls tensing in your hands as you gently played with them. He was so close to cumming that you could almost feel his load on your tongue, so you pushed him a little further, taking all of him until his cock reached your throat. The sensation was too much for poor Steve, your wet, tight hole closing around him in a delicious way. He couldn't fight his body any longer so he let himself go, pressing you down on his cock as he emptied his load down your throat with a loud moan of your name.

"Oh fuck, she loves that." Steve heard Bucky moaning in the distance, too lost in the pleasure coursing through his body to reply. "She's squeezing me so tight, fuck... You love having Stevie's dick buried down your throat, don't you? You love the taste of his cum in your tongue, you cock hungry slut."

The whimper you let out was pathetic and went straight to Bucky's cock. "Yes! I've wanted to taste it for so long." You admitted, looking straight into Steve's half-closed eyes. Fuck your friendship! "You taste so good, baby... best breakfast I've ever had." And as if you wanted to show Steve how good he tasted, you kissed him allowing him to savor himself on your lips. 

Bucky groaned behind your back, finding the scene in front of him incredibly erotic. It was as if you knew exactly what to do to push him over the edge. "That's it, such a good girl for us, doll." He praised you as he quickened the pace of his thrusts, feeling his orgasm approaching. "You take us both so well, like you were meant for it, f-fuck! You wanna be our good girl forever? Let us please you whenever you need? I promise, we'd take such good care of you, wouldn't we Steve?"

Bucky's mind was clouded with pleasure, but that didn't make his words any less true. It was a genuine offer he was making. He wanted to have you with him forever, he wanted Steve to have you forever, and you to have both of them. It was pretty obvious that that was what you were meant to be, it was the only explanation for the way you felt, for the way you connected on such a special level. You weren't just friends, you never had been and he was tired of pretending.

"Yes! Yes we would." Steve rushed to say, not needing much time to think about his answer. The three of you together just felt natural, it had been that way all your lives and it had to stay that way until the end of your days. "Please, sweetheart, be ours."

You couldn't have refused an offer like that even if you wanted to, not when Steve was looking at you with puppy dog eyes and cheeks slightly flushed red, not when Bucky was spreading kisses on your back in such a tender way while he waited for an answer. But the thing was, you didn't need to give one, they knew you were theirs. You knew you were theirs. That had been the case from day one, long before you and Bucky started fucking.

"I'm yours, always have been, always will be." You admitted with a smile, feeling your chest filling with a warm sensation as Steve joined your lips in a kiss. It was sweet and tender, contrasting with the force of Bucky's thrusts.

"Oh that's it, my good girl... I'm gonna mark you with my cum... f-fuck... claim you as mine as I fill your tight pussy with my cum, just like Steve did your that pretty mouth of yours... you ready, baby? Are you ready to feel my cum buried deep inside your cunt?"

"Yes! Bucky, please. I need you to fill me up, please, mark me as yours... I need to feel you, baby, pleaseee." You didn't care anymore about how pathetic or needy you sounded, you were too far gone to do that. All you wanted was to feel that sweet relief coursing through your body.

"Then cum for me, doll. Let us see you come undone for us one more time and I'll give it to you, c'mon!" Bucky didn't have to do much more to push you over the edge, your body responding to his commands as if he were in charge. A couple of quick thrusts, the rubbing of his fingers against your clit, and you were cumming on his cock with a choked cry.

The intensity of your orgasm took you by surprise, your whole body twitching as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your nervous system. Your body gave out and you fell on top of Steve, hiding your face in his neck as Bucky fucked you through your orgasm in pursuit of his own. Steve held you against him, supporting you and stroking your hair as you struggled for breath. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, but you weren't able to respond since your mind was too overwhelmed with pleasure. You appreciated it though, it helped keep you grounded as you felt a new pressure forming in your stomach.

The pleasure never ceased, it only increased with each thrust of Bucky's hips. It was almost painful, your body squirming from the overstimulation. But at the same time it felt so good that you let Bucky hold you in place, digging his fingers into the skin of your hips as he chased his own orgasm.

"F-fuuckk, Bucky, I can't... 's too much, please." You mumbled incoherently against Steve's chest, but your whines were interrupted by a long moan that announced another orgasm. The spasms of your poor abused pussy pushed Bucky over the edge, triggering his own orgasm just seconds after yours. You felt his cock throbbing inside you as he emptied his load, rope after rope of cum painting your velvety walls white. 

You whimpered as he pulled out of you, feeling empty without his cock buried deep inside you. Yet he was back beside you in an instant, sitting on the couch and settling you on his lap. You could feel your juices mixing with his and running down your legs as your over-sensitive pussy still twitched with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Your muscles ached and you felt tired, but still a satisfied smile formed on your face.

"It's okay, we got you, we got you." Bucky murmured against your hair as he pulled you tight against his body. "You did soo good for us, doll... such a good girl." Your heart fluttered at his words, the tone of his voice much softer and more tender than he had used to call you that so far. 

You let the warmth of Bucky's body soothe your overwhelmed senses, matching your breathing to his as you slowly came down from your high. When you finally opened your eyes, you met the adoring gaze of Steve first, who was sitting next to Bucky with your legs stretched across his lap. His fingers traced invisible patterns on your skin, his way of helping to soothe you and keep himself grounded at the same time. He looked adorable with his big puppy dog eyes looking at you as if you were the only important thing in the room, patiently waiting for you to come around.

When you looked up you found Bucky watching you in a similar way, blue eyes full of love as he held you against his chest. It made you feel incredibly special, loved. Butterflies awoke in your stomach, fluttering around as you realized that this was the place you always wanted to be. You belonged with them, Steve and Bucky were your home.

You reached out a hand to cup Bucky's cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin of his face as your other hand intertwined with Steve's. "I love you guys." You simply said, your voice soft and tired, but sincere. 

They shared a quick glance before Steve said, "We love you too, sweetheart."

Tags: @pono-pura-vida @itdobe-foggy

Thank you so much for your support! It means a lot, especially in a fic like this one where I don't feel that confident with my smut writing skills

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem reader #stucky x reader #stucky x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #steve rogers x reader smut #bucky barnes #steve rogers

[evilpinemarten]

⸻ tennessee or me

✦ cairo sweet x gn!reader

✦ summary. you're reunited with the woman who stole your heart, shattered it, yet still drags it along with her. you haven't seen her in 3 years, and when she comes with no remorse you question why she came back in the first place. was it for you? hopefully it was for you...

instead of winnie being cairo's best friend, it's you. you're taking winnie's place.

✦ word count. 1.2k

✦ a/n. kinda hate this but oh well :)

It had been two years since Cairo left for Yale University, and it had been three years since she left you. 

While she was in Connecticut pursuing her education, fooling everyone like she didn’t know a thing, you had been stuck in Tennessee with the gypsy winds and the curse of first-love. You knew she was mad at you, and you knew she was vengeful upon her self-discovery. She had let Jonathan Miller go, but you hoped and prayed every lonely night that she had not done the same with you.

It was a rainy Wednesday morning when you made the walk through Cairo’s woods with your headphones and green hoodie; your eyes were fixed on the weedy, dirt path beneath your black converses before a crow's song finished off the track you were listening to.

“Y/n.”

“Cairo,” you breathed, eyes wide and face flushing pale as you pulled your earphones out and came face to face with the Ghost of Lovell Hill.

Her face was equivalent with her demeanor, calm but fierce, just as she was in highschool. Her eyelashes fluttered in the sunshine that seeped through the canopy of leaves, and her gaze bore into yours as she stood like a royal jackal. 

“W-What?,” you blinked wildly as if she were going to disappear in mere seconds. “What are you doing here? When did you get here? Why are you—?”

“Are you going to ask questions or are you going to greet me properly, as a lover should?” A hint of amusement edged her tone while her magenta lips held the slightest smirk.

You couldn’t speak. You could hear the rapid thump of your heart as the blood roared in your ears, sending your nerves tingling with disbelief. “Y-You… You left… You left me, Cairo…”

“I know,” was her reply.

And that had set you ablaze. You loved her with all your heart still, but that was it?After she abandoned you, betrayed your sincerity, and up and left miles and miles away from you without a second thought? No. This time, she was going to answer to you. 

“You’re gone for three years… Three whole years and then you suddenly appear and expect me to just welcome you back with open arms? Do you know what the fuck I went through having you gone? You left me, Cairo Sweet…”

She took a moment to digest your backlash, and it was almost like the entire world stood still as you stared daggers into each and every orb in her dark eyes. Her lips quivered softly like she was trying to bite her tongue.

“So, go on,” taking a step back, you challenged her to see if she would come or bypass you. “What do you have to say?”

Cairo swallowed swiftly and folded her hands in front of her as she usually did before proposing her intellectual gift of expression. “I have no regrets for leaving things the way I did… Testifying against Jonathan Miller, defying the morals of this tongue-tied state, and confronting you on the night our relationship was corrupted. Yes, I did them. And yes, I am well aware of the pain it caused you. I saw it in your eyes at the word ‘inspired’... I was inspired, Y/n. Inspired to hit the ground running. Inspired to get revenge on a man who was falsely accused of being trustworthy and kind. Inspired to get the fuck out of this graveyard of simpletons… I was inspired to be something more than what this life gave me. You didn’t deserve what happened. And I can argue that I didn’t either, but…that’s nature. I made it to Yale, and I never looked back.”

Your jaw ached with the pressure built up in your muscles; you were clenching them so hard you could hear the enamel slide and buckle. Your fists were balled with white knuckles and piercing nails that stabbed the clammy palms of your hands. “Is that it? Leaving me meant nothing to you aside from simple acknowledgement? You didn’t miss me, Cairo? Because I’ve been missing you… I’ve been missing you ever since this ‘Mr. Miller scandal’. Every morning, I wake up and think about you. Every night I pray you are happy, and I go to sleep with fresh tears that make my pillow cold. When I’m in these woods I am haunted by your memory, but you can bet that I walk through them every damn day just to feel something. When I walk the halls of Vanderbilt, all I can think about is the way it felt to have you next to me. I read through our old texts, and I revisit the countless late nights we shared on the balcony of your house. I listen to music 24/7 so I’m not alone in my own head, because if I don’t, I can still hear your voice. I hear your voice in the songs I sing, the papers I write, and the dreams I have. Cairo, you were my new dream. You know me. You know how fucked up my life was before I met you, and why do you think I changed? Why do you think I stayed? Why do you think I never stopped thinking about you even when you spat in my face?!”

The girl who was as smart as a whip, as cunning as a fox, and as deep as the sea remained frozen in sudden awe that tainted her face with light frost. You knew this, and you wanted it. You wanted her to hurt. You wanted her to feel the amount of pain you had suffered every waking day since she disappeared from your life. 

“Because I love you, Cairo Sweet. I love you more than I thought I ever would. And it fucking kills me to know I wasn’t enough to look back at… Never turned around… And I was still here… I’ve always been here…” 

You were in tears by now. Your face was hot and your blood was boiling beneath your skin, coursing through your veins like young fire that was tempted to set the entire forest ablaze. You yelled, “So why are you here?!”

Was it the evergreen trees stretching nearly county-wide? The foggy, cigarette mornings, or the whiskey bent nights? Did her Yale-bound dreams turn into a dead-end street? Was it a midnight glass in the terrace light? Her name missing on Lovell Hill’s mail? 

Was it something about a homebound love that her heart still needed?

Was she missing the tar pit of nowhere, Tennessee, or Y/n Y/ln?

“Well…?” You panted with hot streams staining your flustered cheeks. But little did you realize, she had tears of her own that made her mascara run.

Cairo walked up to you and pressed her lips onto yours, trapping the both of you into a love-filled, tear-stricken reunion. This was her regret. This was her truth. This was her apology. 

And you could feel that.

When you parted, you stared into her beautiful doe eyes that gave way to a faint but longing smile. 

“I just missed you, Y/n… I miss you so fucking much…”

#cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet x you #cairo sweet x y/n #cairo sweet x gn reader #cairo sweet x gender neutral reader #cairo sweet #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x gn reader #jenna ortega x gender neutral reader #jenna ortega #miller's girl #jenna ortega fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #x gn reader #x you #x y/n #gn reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

[sukimii]

Clingy

Tags: fuff, slight angst, foul language, touch-starved!Reader

Notes: Before reading any of my fics please read this first, thank you.

"Do you even love me?"

"Yes" your answer is immediate, with no hesitation. Of course, you love him, if you could write it in the sky you would. Yet now, the man you love is angry at you, with a mix of disappointment while you're on the verge of crying.

"Then why the fuck aren't you initiating shit?"

You know you should say something. You know you should open up and explain your behavior, but it's easier said than done. Because in the past, whenever you opened up no one listened. They either pretended not to hear or changed the topic of conversation. So you settled on pretending.

Over the years you became good at faking your moods and smiles. It came naturally for you to plaster a smile on your face and make it believable. You became good at pretending you were fine, when in fact you wanted nothing more than to have someone to listen. But no one ever did. No one cared enough to listen to the end, because as long as it doesn't concern them your insecurities are irrelevant.

"If I don't text you, you don't. If I don't call you, you don't. If I don't kiss you, you don't. Why the fuck are we in a relationship then?" The anger in his voice is deafening. It makes you want to crawl on yourself, wishing to disappear. You can feel his resentment in your bones. You know you should speak up, but your voice seems to be stuck in your throat.

"I didn't call you for three fucking days to see if you would. And guess what? You didn't!" Bakugou's eyes narrow on you, waiting for an answer that he will probably never get. "Why the fuck aren't you speaking?! Do you even give a shit about me? About our relationship?"

"I-I do care"

"Fucking bullshit." He scoffs, one hand dragging along the roots of his hair while the other one curled into a fist. "If you cared you would've reached for me. If you cared you would show it through your actions. If you cared-"

You can't listen to all your flaws.

He's listing the very same things people in your past had complained about. The sad part is that you already know the endgame, which only worsens the angst creeping up your back.

Bakugou is the only person you managed to fall in love with. He's the only one that makes you feel important, the only one that always waits for you. He is the first one that makes your heart beat so loud to the point of tuning out the world. He is the only one that keeps you on your toes. The only one that can awaken emotions buried in the depths of your heart and soul.

But now, having him complain about you was destroying your already fragile heart. All the wounds that you managed to somehow patch over the years are now ripped open again. It hurts. His words are like stabs, and you don't have the strength to listen. Because the man you love isn't willing to wait anymore.

You should've seen this coming. It was bound to happen. But your childish self, that small part of you that believes in hope, thought he was going to be the exception. You feel betrayed, by yourself. And you snap.

"BECAUSE YOU WILL HATE IT!"

Your breathing is heavy and ragged, tears already spilling down your cheeks while Bakugou is stunned to silence, watching you with both his eyebrows raised. Then he frowns.

"Why would I hate it?"

"Because everyone does, sooner or later." You can feel snot threatening to drip down your nose, and you sniff, using the abused napkin in your hand to wipe it. "You say now that you want me to do all those things, but as soon as I do you will get sick of me. So-" you choke back another sob, gathering your phone and bag. "It's best if we break up. Sorry for wasting your time" and with those final words, you get up from the table, intent on leaving his house.

It's always like this.

In every relationship that you had, it always ended up with them complaining about you. Something, at the end of the day, made you unable to satisfy them properly. There's always something wrong with you. You. You're your own reason why no one can ever stand you. Right now, all you want to do is get back to your house and cry out all your frustrations. But before you reach the handle, something tugs your other wrist, spinning you around into a hard chest.

"You're not going away, not when you're opening up. Fucking finally" Bakugou drags you back to the living room, this time on the couch. All your protests fall on deaf ears, even the attempts of pushing him away are an utter failure.

"Sit your ass down and start chirpin'."

To Bakugou it's clear that there is a problem, which might run deeper than he originally expected. So he waits for you to speak up.

Yet again, you seem to lose your voice, uncomfortable under his stare, and you look anywhere but at him.

After several beats of silence - disrupted by your sniffs in a poor attempt to not cry- Bakugou sighs. "If we- if you don't speak up, I don't know how to help you. I already have a feeling of what the problem might be, but I want you to tell me. I want to hear it from you."

You mull a little over his words, weighing down your options. The past experiences with childhood friends, exes, and family members, taught you to never expect anything from anyone. Sometimes people pretend to listen because their goal is to seem nice, but once they realize that the problem is nothing interesting, they drop the subject. And as much as you love Bakugou, you don't believe he'll be any different.

"There's nothing too important. It's exactly what I said it is. You think I don't want to hold your hand? You think I don't want to wrap my whole body on you like a koala all day? I crave physical touch, I crave it so bad, but I can't. I can't" as you keep spilling out your frustrations, your voice grows bitter and resentful. "Because you enjoy it in the beginning, but then you'll get sick of it and call me clingy, just like everyone else did! I know that after, you'll tell me to 'get a life', to 'go bother someone else' and I don't want it to happen again! Because I'll be the one getting heartbroken while you all keep surfing life as if you didn't stump on my stupid, useless feelings! You're no different from the others, once you get what you want then I hold no value in your eyes. Just another bitch to add to the fuck list no-" Bakugou is quick to cover your mouth with his palm, and you finally look at him.

He looks… sad. His eyes are soft, mouth pressed into a thin line as he looks at you with what you could describe as pity. But in reality, you couldn't be any farther from the truth, because Bakugou isn't pitying you. No. He understands you.

"We already fucked, two months ago. And I'm still here, aren't I?" His voice is gentle, probably the softest you've ever heard him. As if trying to soothe a wounded animal. It's endearing.

Blinking the heavy veil of unshed tears away, you give him a couple of nods.

"Do you really think I would do something like that to you? Do you think I would say to anybody that I love them?" his palm slides down your neck until it rests comfortably at the back of your head. With breath stuck in your lungs, you offer him a soft shake of your head, no. You don't think Bakugou is that type, but you never know.

"Do you have any idea of how much I want you to do all those things? Fuck- be a fucking leech for all I care, just-!" His forehead lightly bumps into yours, the tip of the nose rubbing a couple of times against yours. His eyes are transfixed into yours, and you can feel goosebumps raise on your whole body at the intensity of his stare.

"I don't care if I'm in an uncomfortable position. I don't care if you're all sweaty from working out or if I'm barely standing because of a rough day. I want you to do anything you want. You want to spoon me? Do it. You want to hold my hand in public? Do it. You want hugs when I'm busy? Do it. Fuckin' do it. I don't care. Fuck- I could be in the middle of an important call and I still wouldn't refuse your attention!" His head dips into the crook of your shoulder while leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

"I don't care what shit-stain you dated before me, all I care about is for you to be comfortable with me. Do you understand?" His arms are circling your back, holding you tight, but not enough to cut the breath out of you. You sniff, suppressing another sob that threatens to come out.

"Y-yes"

"Then hug me" He gives you a squeeze, voice barely above a whisper. "Please"

You know that this doesn't count as a potential improvement since, again, Bakugou is the one that initiated the physical contact. But you oblige, wrapping your arms around his neck.

For several minutes, you bask in the silence, enjoying the comfort and warmth. Until Bakugou speaks again, voice partially muffled by your clothes.

"I noticed how different you are with that weir- Hatsume."

"She-" you clear your throat, trying to get rid of the ragged tone "she never pushed me away. Probably the only one that never did." you don't want to relieve the past, but with Bakugou seems right. Up until now, he showed nothing but understanding.

"There were times when I would visit her back when she was in UA. She didn't mind when I would sleep on her while she worked on her babies. One day I remember falling asleep on her back, and she didn't complain. She- she was the only one that never called me a bother."

"You didn't do anything too scared I would…" he trails, lifting a little his head just enough to see your eyes.

"Call me clingy." You finish for him. His arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer.

"Even my parents pushed me away. I used to seek physical attention all the time. If it were possible, I would stay with you like this all day, but I know it's impossible. And I don't want you to think that I-… I don't want to be a burden. An inconvenience. I don't want you to hate me because of that. So I give you space. I let you initiate everything on your own terms because I'm scared of being annoying."

Bakugou listens. He knows that if he speaks you might try to make the conversation take a detour. So he waits for you to continue.

"I used to like sleepovers. I used to beg my parents to let me sleep at a friend's house. But then they told me no because I would be a bother, and that people are too nice to tell me that. Even holding hands was something I enjoyed, until someone slapped my hand away."

That detail doesn't sit right with Bakugou, and whoever slapped your hand was already on his piss-the-fuck-off list.

"Is this why you keep refusing to stay the night?" When you nod, Bakugou feels like the heaviest stone has just been lifted from his chest. When he slept with you for the first time, he asked you to stay over. It was late, and dark outside, and letting you wander the streets where danger lurked wasn't something he was keen on. Plus, it would give him more time to spend with you. But when you got up and dressed, turning down his offer saying that you were busy the next day, he walked you home.

The second time, again, you shut him down. He tried to be understanding. At the time, he couldn't understand why you refused to crash at his place when he did overstay at yours. At first, he thought you didn't like his apartment, or that you didn't feel comfortable enough. So, he bought a couple of plants, hoping that it will ease you, and stuffed his bathroom with products he saw at yours. He made sure to put hairclips and hair ties near the sink, in a pink-stained glass bowl. And different types of pads were stashed in the first drawer, just in case. He also added some décor, similar to your aesthetic, but even that didn't work. Despite your compliments, saying that you loved the changes he made, it still wasn't enough to make you stay.

Another time he tried again was three weeks ago. He tried his hardest to fuck you stupid, he hoped that six hours of constant sex will tire you out enough that you will cave, and finally spend the night at his. He tried different positions that he knew would strain your legs. Positions that will weaken your body, and time for you to recover were minimal. If he was generous, only a minute before he went at it again. Despite all his efforts, you still went home. Bruised, body screaming in pain at the effort, and on the verge of passing out, you asked him to take you home. And Bakugou, at that point, began to think that maybe you didn't love him.

He became self-conscious. Because why else wouldn't you want to spend more time with him? Why would you only have sex and then drop out as soon as you felt like sleeping?

Yet that theory wasn't exactly making sense, because the very next day you asked him to stay over at yours.

But now, Bakugou understands. He now knows what the problem is, and he has to admit that you told him way more than he originally expected. He's glad you did so, it's a step in the right direction, and he believes that improvements will happen soon.

One hand moves on the back of your head, cradling you closer while his lips ghost the skin right below your ear.

"Let's take baby steps" he murmurs, leaving a feathery kiss on the side of your neck. Your arms hook around his shoulders, leaning into him.

"Stay tonight" He feels your body tense up, and before you can utter a word -already knowing what you were going to say, he squeezes you, silently adding the 'please' that was lingering on the tip of his tongue.

When he feels your body relax in his hold, and a soft 'ok' leaves your lips, Bakugou allows himself to smile, happy with the outcome.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou imagine #bnha bakugou #mha katsuki #bnha imagines #bnha bakugō #bakugo x reader

[repulsiveliquidation]

Betrayed.

Alexia Putellas x Reader [SMUT!]

word count : 3.6k

warnings of degrading name calling, edging, spitting, choking.

“Mi amor, I’m home!” yelled Alexia as she walked into the house with Nala. Nala took off running as soon as Alexia unleashed her, chuckling as the little thing went running in search for you. Your dog Zeus, who was a big Doberman was sat lounging on the couch but ran after Nala. They both got along well, Zeus was protective of his big sister but had Alexia wrapped around his finger. She claimed to not liking big dogs and was scared that Zeus would, in her words, eat Nala but Zeus proved to be the perfect companion for Nala.

“I’m upstairs!” you yell back, just walking out of your office and finding your dogs both excited and jumping up on you. “Where’s Mama, baby?” you ask Nala and pick her up, walking towards the bedroom you just saw a head of blonde hair disappear into. Zeus trailed behind slowly, jumping onto the bed with Alexia as you walked in.

“Hola, cariño. What were you up to today? Were you a good boy for Mamí?”

“You greet the dog you didn’t want before your own wife. I’m deeply hurt, Ale.”

“You’ll get over it,” she teases as you roll your eyes. Nala cuddles comfortably on your chest, licking your chin as you run your fingers through her freshly groomed fur.

Alexia smiles and leans over, kissing your cheek. “Hola, mi vida. I missed you.” You blush, leaning into her and kissing her slowly. She hums into the kiss, scooting closer to deepen the kiss. You’ve been married a significant amount of time now but kissing her just never fails to bring you to your knees.

“Did you manage to get your work done?” she asks, rubbing Zeus behind the ears.

“Yes, got a lot more done than I thought I would so I’m all yours.”

“Perfect, the girls would have been disappointed if you couldn’t go out tonight.”

“I think you’ll like the outfit I got planned.”

“Oh? Can I have a sneak peek?”

“You wish.”

She grabs you, startling both dogs. They run out, supposedly having had enough of your shit.

“Show me.”

“You can see it when I’m done getting ready, missy.”

“You’re mean.”

“You’ll get over it.”

//

“Babe, can I borrow your gold–Dios mío.”

“Borrow what, Ale?”

“Forget the earrings. We aren’t going anymore.”

“What? Why?”

“No one else can see what you are wearing right now. For my eyes only; it says it on our marriage certificate.”

She saunters over to you, wrapping her arms around your exposed middle as you apply the finishing touches to your makeup.

“Do you like it?”

“Like it? I’m about to fuck you right here, right now.”

“You’re worse than a teenage boy, are you ready?”

“Bebé, we’re not going.”

“Yes we are, at least I am. I will leave your horny ass here!”

//

“Y/N! Oh, I’m so glad you could make it. Girls, look who’s here!” Ingrid pulls you to the corner of the club the girls are at. All of them wolf-whistle at your outfit, the revealing black dress you wore brought out your confidence like no other. You didn’t dress this way that often and when you did you went all out. Ale had a scowl on her face, her black suit matching your dress perfectly. She came up to you and kissed your cheek, softly muttering “The usual, hermosa?” You simply nod, fixing the lapel on her jacket as she walked to the bar with Mapi.

She kept her cool throughout the night, hand wrapped around your waist tightly as the both of you danced together. She made sure your glass was always filled and ice cold, your favorite whiskey coke never watered down the whole night. The dress you had on was one that she had never even seen you purchasing, let alone wearing; all she wanted to do tonight was rip it off and show you just who you belonged to. It was borderline driving her insane, your hips swaying to the music lightly brushing up against her hips. Her hand wrapped itself around your waist again, pressing you back into her. You obliged, wanting to tease. You subtly kept grinding back into her more and more, your free hand grabbing onto hers around your waist.

“You’re being a naughty girl tonight, hermosa.”

“I’m just dancing with you, Ale. Like we always do.”

You feign ignorance the whole night, dancing with all the girls who wanted a turn with you. Mapi was being particularly touchy tonight, not that that was odd for the woman. She and Ingrid had you sandwiched between them as the music began to boom louder and louder into the night. Alexia had walked over to the bar to get you another drink when the two girls had dragged you over to them and began to dance. You were enjoying yourself, Alexia was not.

“You look like you’re going to kill someone.” Ona quipped at her captain, smirking as she sipped on her 5th margherita for the night.

“I am. Mapi.” Alexia gruffed at Ona, eyes seeing red as she marched over to you. You smiled and waved, about to walk over to her when she grabbed your arm and pushed you over to the bathrooms.

“Ale, what–“

“Don’t Ale me, you slut. What the hell was that?”

“I was just dancing, isn’t that what we came here to do?”

“You dance that way with me, not her.”

“They dragged me over there, what was I supposed to d–“

She rushed forward and kissed you hard. Her hands groped where they could, pressing you up against the wall. You whine into the kiss, hands flying around her neck. She picked you up suddenly, sitting you on the counter.

Her eyes were dark and lustrous, pulling your legs apart and yanking your underwear off. She stuffs them into your mouth to keep you quiet, hiking your dress up to reveal your soaked folds. She smirks, leaning in and giving you no mercy. She slurps and suckles, growling deeply into your pussy as she devours you. Your hands simply hold her head in place, legs trembling as they wrap themselves around her head. She presses them open easily, grumbling a low “Stay,” before diving back between your legs. She maintains eye-contact the entire time, tongue darting into your hole momentarily as she assaults your folds incessantly. You feel that familiar coil in your stomach wind itself up, lips chanting her name as they are drowned by the loud club music and muffled by the risqué lace in your mouth.

Just as you’re about to hit your high, she pulls away with an annoying smirk on her face. She’s covered in your juices as they drip down her chin. She pulls your underwear out from your mouth, uses it to wipe her own and tucks it into her jacket like a pocket square. You’re beyond shocked at her actions, she fixes herself and walks straight out of the bathroom with one last request.

“Freshen up, I’ll be in the car.”

//

“Where are you going? The night is still young!” Mapi yells over the music. You grab your bag and rush towards the exit.

“Ale isn’t feeling too good, we’ll see you guys soon, we had a great time!”

“What she means is Ale isn’t feeling too good about how you were touching Y/N Mapi. They totally just fucked in that bathroom.” Ona tells the table laughing but stops when Mapi smiles devilishly.

“She’s the one who told me to; she wanted to rile La Reina up.”

//

“What took you so long?”

“I don’t know, maybe explaining to the girls why my wife took off like that and why I look like a disheveled mess right now because you’re jealous! Of your best friend!”

“I did tell you to freshen up, cariño.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“I don’t like it when other people touch what is mine.”

“So? Remind them.”

Her eyes turn even darker at your words; she starts the car with a locked jaw and a tight hand on your thigh. The whole drive home she doesn’t say a word, occasionally huffing angrily. You know you’re in for it this time; you really were pushing it with Mapi only because you planned on it. The dress, the dancing, the teasing on the dance floor was all to get her riled up and jealous on purpose. But she didn’t need to know that.

She parks the car and pinches the bridge of her nose. She checks her phone briefly before she uses her strict tone on you, you know better than to disobey her.

“I want you upstairs at the foot of the bed naked and on your knees, do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

You rush out of the car and run upstairs, doing as she says. She walks in 10 minutes later, cool as a cucumber. She reaches into the bedside drawer and grabs something before walking to the bathroom. She takes her own sweet time, sauntering out with her hair fixed and clothes perfectly on.

She walks over to you, a smirk on her face. You’re kneeling exactly where she wanted, hands obediently behind your back.

“You’ve been disobedient the whole night, mi amor. Why is that?”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s not what it looked like to me.”

“I was just dancing Ale, maybe I got carried away but you know I would never do anything to upset you.”

“Then tell me why did I get a text from Mapi saying that you had asked her to touch you so ravishingly all night? With the intention of, and I quote, “riling Ale up”?”

Your blood runs cold as the words leave her mouth. That bitch. You had sworn her to secrecy with the promise of doing her a favor when she next asked but it seems like you had made a pact with the devil.

“I–I,”

“Save it. You have been quite the handful all night and I intend on making sure that by the end of it you know who owns you.”

She leans forward, eyes sharply looking into yours.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Good. Let’s make sure you never forget it.”

She takes her jacket off, your underwear still in the same spot she tucked it into. She’s got on a gorgeous lace bralette that you recognize as your own, her abs making a statement around her middle. Even like this she looks completely composed, hair perfectly in place; not a strand astray.

You become face to face with her crotch, which seems to be bulging. Your mouth waters and eyes widen when you realize what she had taken from the drawer and disappeared into the bathroom to do. She’s got her strap on in her pants. She rarely did this; she knew it made your pussy drip at the idea that she’s got it on under her clothes, ready to fuck you the moment she deems you deserve her cock.

“I think you’re starting to understand the agenda for tonight.” She smirks, leaning down and forcing your jaw open. She gathers her saliva and spits it directly into your mouth; some of it missing and landing on your cheek. “Don’t swallow,” she says as she stands and undoes her pants, the fake appendage springing out. She’s picked a bigger one today; one that would leave you sore and constantly reminded for a while.

She steps closer, the tip of her cock rubbing against your spit-covered lips. She wrenches your jaw open wider and slides into your mouth, throat letting out a drawn-out moan as you immediately begin to suck on her.

She grabs your head and thrusts into your slick mouth, you make a show of hollowing out your cheeks and earnestly sucking on the silicone cock. Alexia likes to pretend she can almost feel the pleasure elicited, throwing her head back and pulling on your hair animatedly. She gives you a soft “mierda,”, eyes watching with great focus as you wet the cock with your spit. She pulls away and strings of saliva follow, your eyes blown with pleasure.

She spits into your mouth again and makes you swallow, shoving her cock back into your mouth and fucking your face with it. She gathers your soft locks into a makeshift ponytail and speeds up her strong hips, praising you softly as she goes. She shoves it down too far one time, causing a loud gag to follow. Somehow it gives her an ego boost; shoving the silicone down your throat periodically as she continues to fuck your throat. Your hands remain behind your back obediently, not wanting to risk making La Reina angrier than you know she already is.

She pulls away again and grins maniacally. “On the bed,” she growls; pulling you up and shoving you back onto the bed. The both of you had a mutual understanding about bedroom dynamics and knew each other’s boundaries very well. She knew how hard she could push you; you knew how far she would take it.

She reaches into the drawer again and pulls out a bullet vibrator. You lean back on your elbows and watch her as she turns it on. “Open your legs; do not hide from me,” she tells you, settling herself between your now open legs. She runs the vibrator over your nipples causing them to harden. She glances down at your folds, they glisten back at her. She smiles proudly, eyes going back to admiring your body. She leans in and finally touches you, the vibrator travelling lower to rub through your folds. You jolt and make a noise, hand instantly flying to your mouth in shock. The vibrator immediately pulls away, her eyes darkening once again.

“I will let that one slide; one more sound from you that I don’t ask for and you will be left here to cum until you pass out, understand?” you can only nod, scared to say the wrong thing.

“Words, puta.”

“Yes, La Reina.”

“Good girl.”

The vibrator returns to your clit, you hold yourself back from making a noise this time. She presses it right on top of your clit and grins, watching you convulse and hold yourself back. She makes things harder for you when she leans down and begins to suck on your breasts; lips locked around them with suction that makes your head spin.

You’re really holding back now, a moan sitting uncomfortably in the back of your throat like its teasing you. She nibbles on your nipple a little aggressively and your hands grasp the bedsheets so hard your knuckles are white. You’re trying to divert your attention to anything but, scared that you’ll accidentally set her off again. Everyone knows better than to piss off an already pissed La Reina; the last time you did she didn’t let you come for 2 months. She got off often though, making you watch each time she did. It was not pleasant.

The coil in your stomach returns for a second time tonight, legs trembling as you try your absolute hardest not to cum. La Reina owned all your orgasms she liked to remind you. It was unsaid that there was to be no cumming unless she says so. Again, that was a lesson you learnt the hard way.

Just as you were about to tap out, she pulls away completely. You breathe heavily, trying to catch your breath. You look up at her with pleading eyes but hers do not soften. You are her biggest weakness but you had to commend her; the girl had unwavering iron will.

“That’s two of many more tonight, my love.” The tears follow suit, frustration beginning to set in. You knew you deserved it, but you also knew that you wanted to cum; and if there was one woman who was a woman of her word, it was Alexia Putellas.

You were edged five more times after that. She moved onto much more intense things after the third edge. By the sixth one, she was fucking you; hips as powerful as ever as they pounded into you with unrelenting force.

She had given you permission to moan now, wanting to hear your voice tell her how good she was and how only she could provide you with the bliss you were in now. You were past sensitive, toeing the line of delirium. It was euphoric, her thrusts were executed with terrifying precision. She knew you, you knew her. It was scary to be honest, it was beyond intimacy.

Your orgasm was creeping up now, her hand kneading your tender breasts with refreshing affection. They were secretly her favorite part of you, their perky and firm characteristics made her, like you had accused earlier, like a horny teenage boy.

She felt you clenching on the toy, whining high in your throat. Your hands were gripping the sheets tightly again, desperately needing to hold onto something so that you felt that you had just a sliver of control. Alexia pulled away as soon as she knew you were close, crocodile tears following soon after she pulls out.

“That’s the last one, mi vida. Gonna take care of you now, you’ve been such a good girl for me tonight.” She wiped your tears away as you nodded frantically. She kept her word, kissing your swollen lips tenderly as you calmed down. She reached for a bottle of water and fed you it, kissing your forehead as you took big, much needed sips.

“Turn over, baby. Wanna see your pretty ass when you come on my cock.”

You turn over obediently, pressing your chest to the bed and pushing your ass up. She hums appreciatively, grabbing your cheeks and pulling them apart. She leaned in and licked up your ass, which makes you yelp; she hadn’t done this before. She kept licking, tongue frantically flicking over your loose hole and asshole. It felt good, you moaned loud to tell her you liked it. She grinned and slipped two fingers into your pussy before suckling on your asshole enthusiastically. You lurched forward and reached back to cradle her head, she dove in deeper and curled her fingers into you deeper.

"Qué buena chica. mi niña perfecta y obediente.”

“Please, Ale…please let me cum…”

“Yes, my love. I’m gonna make you cum so good bonita.”

She slides her fingers out and pushes her cock in so smoothly you don’t even have time to miss feeling full. She does as she promised, pounding into you from behind. She does lean back and admire the fullness of your ass, the ripples that follow each thrust only spur her on. Her own pleasure is forgotten, the harness rubbing against her clit combined with the most beautiful woman she’s had the privilege of being married to between her legs was more than enough stimulation for her.

She pulls you back up against her chest, fucking into your at this new angle with fervor and purpose. Her arms wrap themselves around you, hand gently applying pressure to your throat as she whispers dirty things into your ear. Your body shudders and writhes, your pleasure wholly dependent on her.

“Are you going to cum on my cock, cariño? Gonna make a pretty mess for me?”

“Yes, Mi Reina, yes! Please!”

“Go on, cum for me. My perfect girl.”

Your legs shake and body convulses as you make a mess on her cock. Her hand around your neck restricts airflow just enough to make you light headed and floaty while her other hand presses down against your clit and rubs hard. It makes you gush, a cry of her name echoing through the house. She cums at the same time, her own legs shaking from watching your own unfold in front of her.

She lets go of you and you flop forward. She pulls out and pulls the strap off, kissing your face all over. She whispers sweet nothings to you, praising you for holding out for her and being a good girl. She leaves you for 5 minutes to quickly run a hot bath, carrying you in her arms and slipping into the steaming water with you.

You snuggle into her strong arms, they rub and massage your legs softly as the warm lavender water wafts through the air. She turns you around in her arms as you settle in her lap. Her big hands hold your waist softly when you cup her face and kiss her tenderly. She kisses back the same way; she pulls you flush against her chest and make out till you become wrinklier than raisins.

She insists on wrapping you up in the fluffiest towel and carrying you back into bed. She sits you on the couch as she changes the sheets as fast as she can, pulling you into bed with one of her old jerseys on like she did.

She held you close, hand rubbing your back softly as your fingers drew random patterns on her arm. She kissed the top your head, smiling softly.

“I love you so much, bonita.” She whispered, pulling you closer to her.

“I love you too, I’m sorry I danced with Mapi like that.”

“Don’t be, it was kinda hot.”

“Alexia!”

“What? I knew you were up to something with that gorgeous dress and the dancing, when Mapi texted me, it all made sense.”

“That wretched woman betrayed me; we had a deal!”

“I think I can get her back for you, cariño.”

//

“Five extra laps for you today, Mapi.”

“What the fuck for, Alexia?!”

“Going against your word with my wife.”

“I WAS DOING YOU A FAVOR!”

“Just run, Maria. You’re lucky I’m the one punishing you, not her. Trust me, you don’t want her getting back at you. I tell you this with love and first-hand experience; I still have scars.”

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