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#in other words a girl needs to practice her joints more
mars-ipan · 1 month
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they're so GROSSSSSS (<- desperately wants what they have)
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As Brave As You Are (Newt x Reader) - A Maze Runner Story
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As Brave As You Are (Newt x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 12,051 Warnings: death, bloody wounds, fighting, mental and physical torture, guns, suicidal thoughts and actions Spoilers: no spoilers because the books and films came out ages ago
After helping Newt recover from his ankle injury, Y/N and Newt formed an unbreakable bond that always had them looking out for each other. When they escaped the Maze, then navigated the Scorch, they always had each other’s back. It isn’t until Y/N is captured alongside Minho by WCKD and Newt contracts the Flare that he realises how he truly feels about Y/N.
Problem is, will he rescue her in time to tell her?
Note: I'm back in my dystopian future era thanks to the new Hunger Games film so of course I had to write for my original YA crush. This piece is based on the movie series mainly. Don't get mad at me, I love the books more, but I can appreciate the storylines that came out of the path they took with the films. And if there is one thing the TMR fandom can agree on, it is that the film cast was the best cast ever for the series. So enjoy - not sorry that it's horrendously long, Newt deserves it xx
‘Medjack! Medjack, now!’
Y/N recognised it was Minho was calling for help. Clint and Jeff ran out of the med hut to see what all the commotion was. It wasn’t long before they were hurrying back inside, carrying Newt of all people between them, Minho and Alby in tow.
‘Clear the table,’ Clint ordered, and Y/N quickly followed through, practically throwing off containers, bowls and medical instruments to get Newt on there as quick as possible. Once Newt was up, Y/N finally noticed the unnatural twist in his ankle and it almost sent Frypan’s sloppy sweet potato soup right back up. 
She was still pretty new to her job as a Medjack, being the greenie and all. She was the only girl in the Glade of the current twelve residents, so she was intimidated at first as to what role she could play in the place. Medjack seemed the most suitable, and she seemed to have a knack for it, having stitched up some eyebrows and cleaned up knee scrapes with ease and precision. 
But even though she’d seen blood, dealt with displaced bones and joints, she still got queasy doing her job. It didn’t help that Newt was hissing through clenched teeth from the intense pain, an occasional sob passing through.
‘What happened?’ Y/N asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Minho said. ‘We split up for only five minutes. I thought we could cover more ground that way. And we’ve run that part of the Maze like a hundred times already. I thought we’d be fine…’
Clint held Newt down as Jeff and Y/N took a look at Newt’s ankle. Jeff only pressed gently with his fingers around the bone, but Newt’s responding howls confirmed the severity of the injury.
‘The bone is completely shattered,’ Jeff said grimly. ‘We’re going to need to reset his foot first though. Y/N?’
‘On it.’ She rushed to a shelf that held bandages, then to a cupboard with flat boards about shin length. She grabbed two of those before heading back to the table.
‘You’re going to have to hold him down,’ Y/N directed at Alby and Minho, gesturing to follow Clint’s efforts. Then she turned to Newt, whose face was slicked with tears and sweat as he continued to writhe in pain. ‘Newt. Newt, can you open your eyes for me? I need you to focus on me.’
To his credit, Newt opened his eyes and he didn’t look away from her. 
‘Good. Good, Newt,’ she said. ‘Now, we have to realign your foot. It’s going to hurt a lot. We’ll go on three, okay?’
In the short time Y/N had known Newt – which arguably was no time at all, as he ran every day and she was in the Medjack hut all day. They didn’t interact unless he or another runner got hurt, or at dinner if only to say hello. Even so, she had come to know he liked it plain and straight, no bullshit. So, despite his pain, he took two deep, calming breaths and gave her a nod to say he was ready for what they had to do.
Y/N nodded back, then looked to the others, who had their hands braced on all Newt’s limbs. ‘Ready?’ she asked, to which they nodded in reply. Y/N gently held Newt’s ankle, eliciting a quiet whimper from the boy. ‘Okay, on three. One, two…’ She cut herself off as she slammed her hands either side the ankle bone, causing a loud cracking sound as the ankle snapped back into place. 
Newt’s wail of pain must’ve been heard from across the whole Glade it was so loud. He writhed and pulled to sit up, but the boys held him down as Y/N and Jeff bandaged the two splints either side of Newt’s ankle. Jeff then dabbed a small dose of chloroform in a cloth and pressed it to Newt’s nose. Soon enough, the boy was unconscious, finally pain-free.
‘You guys go have dinner,’ Y/N said to Clint and Jeff a little while later as they were cleaning up the hut. Alby and Minho had left soon after Newt fell asleep, but it was almost dinner time now. ‘I’ll stay with Newt tonight.’
‘You sure?’ Clint asked. ‘We can do shifts if you’d prefer.’
Y/N shook her head. ‘I insist. You guys rest up. I can do this. Consider this my final test to becoming a fully-fledged Medjack.’
Jeff chuckled. ‘You have much more to learn, Greenie, but suit yourself.’
‘We’ll bring you back some food, Y/N,’ Clint said as he and Jeff left the hut, leaving Y/N to idly clean up.
Newt woke up from a dull throbbing in his ankle, which turned into a harsh pain, causing him to sit up in alarm. 
‘Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ a voice gently said as equally gentle hands pushed him back down.
‘My ankle,’ he said, voice hoarse and dry. ‘It hurts…’
The face of the voice finally came into view: it was the Greenie. Y/N offered him a small smile as he finally recognised her. In one hand, she held a needle with clear serum. Her other she offered to his leg. ‘May I? It’ll help, I promise.’
He hesitated for a moment, but the intense pain in his ankle broke his composure as he eagerly nodded. The painkiller worked immediately, and Newt sighed with relief as the throbbing eased significantly.
’There,’ Y/N said, wiping the needle. ’That should help for a bit. Sadly, we don’t have much left for me to give you more than once a day, but I’m hoping you won’t need it beyond the end of the month.’
Confusion clouded Newt’s mind as he tried to process her words. ‘What… What happened?’ But he answered his own question as images of the Maze flashed through his mind, and he remembered it all. How he bid farewell to Minho. How he climbed as high as he could along the Maze walls. How easy it was to let go. 
Then the pain fully encompassed him, and then it was just a blur. How Minho found him. How Clint and Jeff laid him on the table he realised he was still on. How angry and embarrassed he felt having his friends see him broken and miserable. 
Newt managed to pull himself into a sitting position, propping a pillow behind him to cushion the hut wall. ‘How bad is it?’ he asked glumly, eyes unable to lift from his injury.
He couldn’t be bothered with pleasantries. He was too tired, and, frankly, saw no point in keeping up appearances anymore. 
To her credit, Y/N seemed to pick up on his mood, saying, ‘It will heal to a point you’ll be able to walk again. But it won’t ever heal properly.’
‘You mean I’ll have a limp?’
‘Potentially.’
’So I can’t be a Runner anymore?’ Y/N didn’t reply, finally drawing Newt’s attention away from the source of his pain and to her. 
Newt had only interacted with Y/N on a few occasions. Mainly at mealtimes or the odd occasion he passed her by on the way back from a run, only talking as much as greeting and farewelling one another. As the only girl so far, of course he found her intriguing, but he never had time nor a reason to get to know her.
And while he’d come to think of her as the quiet and gentle Medjack in comparison to Clint and Jeff, he didn’t see an ounce of pity on her face as she looked at him. Only quiet contemplation, as if there could be any other answer but no to his question.
‘I guess that’s up to you and Alby,’ she finally said. ‘I mean, I know what I should say is no. I’m sure Clint and Jeff will say no. But it’ll more so come down to if you want to go back in or not.’ Her eyes flickered to his ankle, sadness glazing her eyes briefly before returning to him. ‘But I think I can take a guess as to what your answer will be.’
Newt’s gut twisted with guilt and shame that she’d figured it out, and his face flushed with embarrassment and anger. ‘So, you going to tell everyone?’ he asked, words thick  with hopelessness. ‘I mean, that’s your job, right? Diagnose me, then tell Alby, then the whole glade how pathetic I am?’
Y/N shook her head. ‘I think you give me too much credit. I’m not an actual doctor, you know,’ she said, coming to stand beside him. She inspected his ankle for a moment, then turned her gaze to him, and it shocked him to see such intensity in her eyes. It was as if suddenly he was the most interesting person in the world.
‘I can say it was a running accident,’ she finally concluded. ‘You can tell your truth when you’re ready. It’s not my place to take away hope when the others are so full of it right now. That includes me.’
He stared, stunned, as she packed up the last of her things by a spare medical cot at the other end of the hut. It wasn’t until she let out a loud yawn that Newt noticed it was dark outside. The silence of the Glade told him everyone else had gone to bed so it was late. Or early, he couldn’t really tell.
Y/N fluffed a sad excuse of a pillow and put it on the cot. ‘Now that I know you’re alive, are you going to be okay if I get a few minutes shut eye? I can stay up if you’d like.’
Now that the initial shock and embarrassment of the day’s events had subsided, Newt realised how exhausted he was still. ‘No, that’s okay,’ he said. ‘I think I should rest a bit more anyway.’
Y/N nodded and swung her legs up to lie down fully. Newt went to slide himself and his pillow back down to do the same when Y/N spoke again.
‘And Newt?’ she said, her voice soft and almost hesitant.
‘Yeah?’ he called back.
She was silent for so long Newt thought she’d gone to sleep. But then she spoke. ‘For the record, I don’t think you’re pathetic. For wanting it all to end, that is. I actually think what you did was really brave. You might be scared and maybe out of hope, but at least you did something about it. The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you.’
Newt’s breath caught in his chest as it swelled with a mix of emotions. Brave? What he did was the act of a coward. Tears streamed silently down his face, both from a deep shame, but also a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.
The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you…
Newt had lost all hope after a year of searching for a way out and finding nothing. But she didn’t know that, and neither will the next Greenie, or the Greenie after that. Even some of the boys already in the Glade didn’t know that. That’s why they waited every day for the runners – for him – to come back with news, with a shred of hope that they’d get out of there soon. 
Newt twisted himself so he could see Y/N, who was rolled away from him, her body rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. Even if he thought it would all be hopeless in the end, some truly believed they would get out of here.
And maybe that was something worth fighting for.
~
Two years on and Newt and Y/N had managed to forge something akin to a friendship. 
Y/N had kept her word and said Newt had had a running accident, and he’d agreed with her for the sake of his worried friends. Y/N had also been right about his ankle; it healed to point where he could walk and do a decent jog with a limp. But he would never run again. 
He was transferred to work as a Track-Hoe in the gardens with Zart. But it wasn’t all bad. As more boys arrived – never any girls much to their confusion – Newt developed a knack for leading others, for diffusing hard situations, and for wrangling the boys into line. Because of that, he was promoted to Alby’s second-in-command, which gave him more meaningful work to do than just the gardens – stuff that might actually get him and the other Gladers out of the bloody Maze. 
It also meant he had more time to talk to Y/N. He would make sure to drop by once a day (and not just at mealtimes) to check in on her. For a time, he convinced himself he did that because it was his job as second-in-command to keep up group morale, and he would visit everyone in the Glade. Eventually, however, he realised it was because he genuinely enjoyed her company.
Since that night, Y/N had come out of her shell more. Still a little shy and apprehensive at times, but she would openly joke and play along with the boys’ antics. She was more confident in her work as a Medjack too, not afraid to boss Clint and Jeff around if she needed something from them.
Newt’s visits became longer, as they talked about any and all things. Aside from Alby and Minho, Newt considered Y/N one of his closest friends. And she must’ve felt the same – or at least in a similar fashion – as she entertained his thoughts about life beyond the Maze, and the rants he would go on thanks to whichever stupid shank put the fertiliser in the wrong place.
It was a friendship built on mutual respect and genuine care for one another, something that helped Newt convince Y/N to come with him and the others when they finally decided to leave the Maze. But he couldn’t help but feel a deep dread and guilt as he waited behind Thomas, knowing that Grievers were right around the corner.
While the others caught up, Newt turned to Y/N – who’d been helping him through the Maze with his limp – and offered her a spare spear he’d been carrying.
Her eyes widened at his offering. ‘I can’t take that. I can’t fight.’
‘Well, you can’t just go in there without something to protect yourself,’ he said, this time forcibly handing the spear over. Y/N clutched the spear awkwardly, and Newt saw the uncertainty in her eyes, in her trembling hands.
Newt felt bad for making her hold such a violent weapon. All her hands had ever done were help people, save them at times. Now he was asking her to kill. It was for the greater good they both knew, but to kill, nonetheless.
Newt placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and locked eyes with her. ‘Hey,’ he said softly, ‘you stay with me the whole time, do you understand? I promise you won’t have to use that unless absolute necessary.’
Y/N bit her lip to stop it trembling too, but she nodded, steeling herself in preparation for the fight ahead. Newt reciprocated the action and gave her shoulder a final squeeze before turning to face Thomas as he explained the plan.
They fought the Grievers, taking down a few while some of them took down Gladers. The Gladers were backed against the door that Teresa and Chuck were trying to open with a code. Minho shouted numbers at them as he, Newt, and the others fended off one last Griever.
Before he could finish, Minho was caught by a Griever, and Clint ran out to save him. But the Griever’s tail caught him, sending him over the edge of the walkway they fought on with one flick.
‘Clint!’
Before Newt could stop her, Y/N rushed out from behind him, spear drawn back and flying at the Griever in seconds. Not being a fighter to begin with, let alone a good one, the spear bounced off its metal leg without much effect. It did, however, alert the Griever to her presence, turning all its attention to her. Minho leapt to his feet, finally free, and ran back to the group. ‘Y/N!’ he cried as he ran. ‘Run!’
Y/N seemed to finally realise her situation, looking up at the Griever frozen with fear. The horrible creature raised its claw to end her, but Newt moved faster. 
He ran as fast as he could, limp be damned, past Y/N and threw his spear at the Griever’s head. It landed true, puncturing one of the creature’s bulbous eyes, drawing a painful screech from it. Newt didn’t wait to see what it would do next, as he grabbed one of Y/N’s arms and Minho grabbed the other and ran back to the group, practically throwing her behind the front line and against the door. 
Teresa finally got the door open and the Gladers tumbled in, Thomas throwing one last spear down the Griever’s throat as the doors closed. 
Lights flickered on to show they were in some empty room with a door on the wall behind them leading to a corridor.
Thomas looked at the group, taking heavy breaths. ‘Everyone okay?’
‘What’s left of us, that is,’ Winston said, his tone sad and regretful. 
As Newt eyed the group, he noted how many they’d lost, how little their group seemed all of a sudden. 
Minho stepped ahead with Thomas, pointing towards the door. ‘Well? It’s not going to open itself.’
As Minho and Thomas led the group to the exit, Newt turned to Y/N, whose eyes had a distant look glazed over them. ‘What were you thinking?’ he asked, bringing her attention to him. ‘I told you to stay behind me. You could’ve been killed.’
‘I-I know. I’m sorry,’ she stuttered out, tears teetering in her E/C eyes. ‘I just… Clint… It all happened so fast, and I was just kind of moving before I knew what I was doing.’ She looked down at her hands then, and Newt noticed a slight tremble to them. ‘I thought I could help, but I was too slow. And I put you guys in danger too. I’m just… I’m sorry.’
Newt’s guilt came back full force then. He placed a gentle hand over her trembling one, grasping her fingers to stop their shaking. When she looked up at him confused, he just said, ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you into thinking you had to fight. You won’t ever hold a weapon like that again. I promise.’
Y/N opened her mouth to object no doubt, but Newt cut her off. ‘But you have to promise me something back. Promise me that you’ll let us protect you. You can help by keeping us alive, just like you always have. But you’ve got to listen to me, you got it?’
He used his authoritative voice this time, and it seemed to work as Y/N calmed down, her unshed tears now gone.
‘Okay,’ she said, quiet but strong. ‘I promise.’
Newt nodded. ‘Good that.’ He turned to see the others leaving through the door then turned back to Y/N. ’Do you think we’d be lucky enough not to face anything else beyond those doors.’
‘I think we should consider ourselves lucky for getting this far.’ To her credit, Y/N managed a small smile as she looked up at him. ‘But why should our luck run out now?’
There it was again; the glimmer of hope Newt had felt from her since the night he injured his ankle. Newt couldn’t deny that they’d made it this far – by design or by luck, they’d made it. 
And who was he to deny that things might be on the look up for them now?
Together, Y/N and Newt followed the rest of the Gladers to meet their makers.
~
‘I never thought I’d say this… but I miss the Glade.’
The group around the fire grew silent at the implication Frypan’s words had, the memories they conjured up. Y/N couldn’t help but agree as she looked into the dark sky above her, peaking from behind the crumbling pillars they took refuge under. 
The sky was always so clear back in the Glade, she recalled silently. But, just like their current situation, the sky was now obscured. 
The people who rescued them from the Maze were actually WCKD – the people who’d put them in the Maze in the first place. The past twelve hours had seen herself, Newt, Thomas, Minho, Frypan, Winston, and a boy named Aris find Teresa, break out of the facility, and enter the deadly Scorch. In their search for supplies, they’d been attacked by crazed, infected people, driving the group to hide where they were.
The Maze was dangerous, but it was familiar and the only home Y/N recalled ever having. Out in the Scorch, safety wasn’t guaranteed. 
She looked to Winston, who laid back, his shirt pulled up to expose the bloody bandage she’d wrapped his torso in. Y/N tried not to think about the infected scratch marks underneath, and more specifically what gave them to him. The Grievers were one thing, but the things that attacked them? They used to be people.
Not wanting to sit in her thoughts anymore, Y/N stood up, brushed off her pants, and grabbed knife from their pile of weapons they’d found in the abandoned mall. ‘I’ll take first watch.’ 
She didn’t wait to hear if anyone objected, already walking around the stone that covered them so she was on top. To her relief, the others let her go without argument, putting out the fire and quickly settling down to sleep.
After half an hour, Y/N decided to get up and patrol around the area, knife tightly gripped in her hand and her footsteps quiet despite the sand. 
There was so much of it,  the sand. The lady in white – Doctor Ava Paige – had said in her video that the whole world was just desert now. The thought made Y/N yearn for the Glade even more. For the grass, and the woods, and the bonfires they used to have, and the games they played. The boys – Clint, Jeff, Alby, Gally, Chuck. 
Y/N wasn’t a hateful person, but she clutched the knife tighter at the thought of all the loss they’d all suffered at the hands of WCKD. 
It’s why she didn’t hesitate to follow Newt when he’d found her in her room – for some reason, she hadn’t been allowed to stay with the other girls from the other mazes just yet. It’s why they were now braving the Scorch searching for people that Thomas didn’t know even existed. They wanted a better life out from under WCKD’s thumb.
The crunch of sand had her whirling around, awkwardly poising the knife as if to attack, but she relaxed at the familiar person standing there.
Newt raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘Whoa there,’ he said, the quirk of a smile on his lips telling her he was just joking. ‘You could do some real damage if you’re not careful.’
Y/N blew out in relief, the knife dropping to her side again. ‘Thanks, but we both know that’s not the case, Newt.’
Newt shoved his hands in his jacket pocket, shrugging his shoulders as he did. ‘I don’t know, I’ve seen you with a scalpel. Absolutely terrifyingly precise with that thing.’
Y/N chuckled softly, appreciative of the distraction. But her smile dropped as she looked out into the dark cityscape. The moon hid behind clouds so Y/N couldn’t make out anything. ‘Is it pathetic that I’m scared to see what the world has become?’ she asked, not daring to raise her voice above a soft mumble.
Newt stepped up beside her, his body radiating the last remnants of heat from the fire and it warmed her slightly. ’Someone once told me that I was brave for facing my fear,’ he said after some quiet contemplation. 
Y/N looked up at him confused, but he looked down at her with a knowing, smug smile. Much to her chagrin, she couldn’t help but chuckle and shake her head at him. ‘I don’t recall saying that specifically. But if that’s how you saw it, who am I to tell you that wasn’t what I meant?’
Newt hummed in agreement looking back out at the dark expanse, contemplation scrunching his brows together. ‘I’ll be honest with you, I’m scared too.’
That surprised Y/N. Newt, second-in-command, casual, leader Newt was scared? ‘You are?’
Newt nodded. ‘I’m scared that we’ve made a mistake. That Thomas is wrong and there aren’t any mountain people.’ He turned back to Y/N, the most serious she’d ever seen him. ‘I’m scared we’re going to lose more of us, and then what was our escape for? But… it’s not my place to take away hope when the others are so full of it. Including myself.’ Finally, Newt’s smile returned, and it warmed that cold pit of despair Y/N had been falling into ever since they left the WCKD facility. ‘Or, at least, I think that’s what someone very wise once told me.’
Y/N stared at him, awestruck. Hopeful. Newt was hopeful again. And she didn’t want to read into it, but she thought the knowing smile he was giving her told her that she had something to do with it. The thought alone strengthened her resolve, and she looked down at the knife in her hands, less afraid of it all of a sudden.
Y/N held it out to Newt. ’Teach me.’
He raised an eyebrow in a silent question. ‘What?’
’Teach me. How to fight,’ Y/N explained, eyes unwavering from his. 
Concern flashed across Newt’s face for a brief moment. ‘Y/N, I told you, you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to.’
‘If there is one thing I’ve come to know about WCKD is that it doesn’t actually matter what I want anymore. What any of us want,’ Y/N said, feeling the most certain she’s felt in a long time. ‘The one thing we have on WCKD is that we are defiant. We escaped, and are taking away the one thing they want most of all: a chance to find a cure. So, if we’re going to have any hopes of making it to the mountains alive, I’m going to have to know how to fight. So please – teach me.’
Newt contemplated her for a moment, and Y/N just prayed he wouldn’t say no. Or even worse, laugh. Instead of doing either, he took the knife from Y/N’s hand, his fingers brushing across her palm as he did. 
‘All right,’ he said, moving his feet apart to get into a fighting stance. ‘First of all, you’ve got to have a wide-ish stance, and stay light on your toes so you can control when you back away from your opponent.’ 
He demonstrated the movement by quickly shuffling away, always keeping his feet a certain distance apart and the knife gripped tight by his hip. ‘…and when you go into attack.’ He moved so fast Y/N didn’t see his footwork, her eyes locked on his as they bored into hers, knife poised at her neck as if he’d strike.
He stepped away and gave her the knife back. ‘You think you can do that?’
Y/N nodded and took the knife, and for the next hour Newt taught Y/N basic blocks and manoeuvres that he’d picked up from Thomas and Minho and just from basic instinct. Just like she’d been with her Medjack skills, Y/N was a quick study, performing move after move when Newt asked her to. 
She impressed herself. For a natural pacifist, she wielded the knife quite fluently.
They decided to finish the session on a quick sparring match. Newt took a swipe at Y/N, and she stepped back just like Newt had taught her. She then rushed in for an attack, to which Newt threw up his own knife in time to block. Y/N anticipated the pushback and twisted out of Newt’s way as he stumbled slightly forward. While he was disorientated, Y/N gripped his wrist that controlled his knife and pointed her own into his back. 
‘Looks like I win,’ she said, breathless but proud.
Y/N didn’t like the carefree scoff he gave her, followed by, ‘Are you sure?’
She doubted herself for a moment, loosening her grip enough for him to twist out of her reach, knock her knife away and bend to sweep her legs out from underneath her. Y/N landed hard, groaning at the pain in her butt as Newt looked down at her and laughed. 
‘I’m glad you find my pain amusing, Newt,’ she grumbled, rubbing her sore behind.
Newt laughed for a moment longer then calmed down. But his radiant smile remained on his face, brightening the darkness surrounding them. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ he said between remaining chuckles. To his credit, he held out his hand in an offer to help her up. ’But the surprise on your face was priceless.’
Y/N contemplated his hand for a moment, whether she should just push it away or take it. Instead, an idea came to mind, and she gripped his hand tightly then pulled him to the ground with her. He landed on his stomach beside her, getting a face full of sand.
Y/N let out a loud laugh before quickly covering her mouth to stifle the relentless laughter that wished to burst from her. 
Newt spat and coughed out sand as he made to sit up. ‘Well,’ he started, spitting out more sand as he looked up at Y/N, ‘I should’ve seen that coming.’
That just made Y/N laugh even harder, using now both hands to quieten the giggles. Goodness, when was the last time she’d laughed this freely? When was the last time she’d felt such joy? After everything they’d been through, Y/N was worried she’d forgotten what was like to laugh.
When she’d calmed down, she looked down to see Newt propped up on his arms looking up at her with an odd expression on his face. Like he was in awe, maybe. Whatever it was, it made Y/N acknowledge how handsome Newt had become. His baby features had faded since she’d first met him, being replaced by a lean figure and a toned jawline from working in the gardens every day for two years. And with his big brown eyes, tousled blond hair and funny accent, Y/N wondered how he had changed so much without her realising it. How she hadn’t realised he’d grown up.
The intensity with which he looked at her brought a heated blush to her face, and so she turned away into the cool night breeze, willing the blush to cool down. Newt shuffled to sit up next to her. They didn’t speak for a minute, until Newt suddenly stood up. 
‘Well, um,’ he started, and for the first time since Y/N had known him, he sounded uncertain about what to say. ‘I better let you continue with your shift. At least you know how to defend yourself now.’
Y/N hastily stood up as well, making sure there was at least a step between them. ‘Yes!’ she said. ‘Thank you for that. I’ll be sure to practice.’
‘Good that.’ 
They looked at each other for a moment, and even though Newt said he was leaving, he made no move to leave. Maybe he doesn’t want to, she thought, and the mere possibility of that being true warmed her heart.
But he took a step away, gave her a shy smile and a small wave farewell. ‘Goodnight, Y/N.’
‘Goodnight Newt,’ she said, those two words hanging in the air long after he’d left.
As she finally woke Frypan up for his shift, she clung to the knife and went through all the manoeuvres Newt had taught her until she fell asleep. 
Newt was unable to sleep until Y/N woke Frypan up to take the next watch shift, and laid down to sleep herself. Newt opened his eyes to see Y/N laying across the pit they’d dug out for the fire. She faced him on her side, and Newt noticed with curiosity that she held the knife she’d practiced with close to her chest. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, and paired with her heavy breathing, Newt figured she was completely asleep. 
An odd sensation fluttered in his chest and stomach as Newt considered Y/N’s sleeping face. It was the same feeling that had fizzled in his chest when he’d looked up at her as she laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time any of them had laughed as freely as she had. 
And he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked doing so – hiding her bright smile behind trembling hands, eyes narrowed but sparkling with joy. 
All because of him.
He rolled onto his back then, not wanting to give the thought anymore weight. There’s no point getting your hopes up, he reminded himself. But like a moth drawn to flame, Newt couldn’t help but tilt his head to gaze upon her peacefully sleeping. An ache carved itself deep in his heart. How had he not realised her growing up, changing? Being the only girl for a long time, of course he and the others found her pretty. But now that he looked at her – really looked at her, and wasn’t concerned with his life for just a split second – he realised just how beautiful she was. 
It was in her features, but also in her determination to be better for the group. It both hurt and impressed him when she asked for his help. He promised her she would never have to fight again, but things have changed drastically since the Maze.
It was in her ability to still find the joy in things, to still be able to laugh despite their situation.
It was how she believed in Thomas, in Aris, in the mountain people, even if she was scared. 
‘The rest of us can only wish to be as brave as you,’ he whispered into the night, a silent promise that he’d tell her that sometime. 
And with the fluttering in his chest finally easing into a calm warmth, he finally fell asleep.
~
Everything exploded with chaos as Y/N, Newt, Thomas, and Minho navigated their way through the Right Arm camp as guns fired and explosions went off. 
Teresa had betrayed them. Y/N couldn’t believe it when it was revealed in front of everyone, and she still couldn’t believe it as Minho pushed her head down, sheltering her from another explosion. Teresa truly believed WCKD could find a cure, but still at the expanse of Y/N and her friends’ pain. And just when Thomas was going to blow them all sky high, Jorge and Brenda had come in like a saving grace, and that’s when all hell broke loose.
‘This way!’ Thomas yelled over the din, beckoning them behind a weapons container.
However, Minho stopped suddenly and picked up a launcher. Keep going!’ Minho called over his shoulder as he shot at WCKD soldiers around him. ‘I’m right behind you!’
Thomas and Newt reached the container, but Y/N stopped and turned at the sound of a painful cry. ‘Minho!’ she cried as her friend fell, his body convulsing from a launcher shot. 
‘Y/N, no!’ Newt called after her, but she was already running back to Minho, grabbing at his jacket to drag him to safety. 
But Y/N was not strong like the boys, and certainly not strong enough to move Minho in any hurry. She looked up just in time to see a launcher fire at her, then her body felt like it was on fire. 
She was sure she was screaming, but she couldn’t hear anything as the electricity struck every nerve with a vicious bite. After what felt like an eternity of pain, she was granted a moment of peace as her vision went white, then in a flash was swamped by darkness.
Newt’s heart stopped when he saw Y/N shot. She convulsed as Minho had, then collapsed beside their friend unconscious. The second Y/N hit the ground, Newt found his voice again, feelings of anger and desperation clawing their way through every vein in him.
‘Y/N, no!’ His cry came out broken as he made to run to her, but a strong hand gripped the back of his jacket and pulled him back. 
‘No, boys,’ Vince shouted over the din, holding both Newt and Thomas back. 
‘Let me go!’ Newt protested, struggling against Vince, eyes darting between him and Y/N. ‘I need to help her! Y/N!’
But WCKD soldiers were already picking up Y/N and Minho’s unconscious bodies, dragging their feet through the red dirt and into a berg.
‘I’m sorry, son,’ Vince said, and Newt thought he sounded genuine. But that didn’t stop icy terror gripping tight on his heart as the doors began to close on Y/N, Minho, and other immunes from the Right Arm.
Thomas called for Minho, and Newt called for Y/N, but neither could do anything to help their friends as they were flown away. Back in WCKD’s clutches once again.
When the sun rose, the remaining survivors came out of hiding and began scrounging up supplies. They were moving on, Vince claiming there was nothing they could do but keep going with who and what they had left.
Newt couldn’t accept that, and neither could Thomas apparently, as he claimed he was going after Minho, Y/N and the others. Without hesitation or any further explanation, Newt was the first to sign up and join him.
And so, they went on a quest to rescuing Minho, Y/N, and as many immunes as possible. The train hijack was a huge success with immune numbers, but no Minho and no Y/N. Even so, Newt refused to accept that he’d never see either of them again. Even when they almost got killed by cranks. Even when he, Thomas, Brenda, Frypan, and Jorge were almost blown up by turret guns.
Even when he found out he was infected with the Flare.
He could feel it, his mind slowly slipping away as the Flare ate away at his sanity. He was usually level-headed and rational – it’s part of the reason he became second-in-command in the first place. Guilt and shame ate away at him as he sat on the rooftop of their hideout in the outskirts of the Last City, explaining to Thomas why he just bit his head off about being in love with Teresa.
Not that I’m one to talk, he thought as he rolled down as his sleeve, silence wrapping around him and Thomas comfortably. Newt could feel Thomas didn’t know what to say, and Newt didn’t like long silences so he broke it.
‘The crazy thing, though is…’ Newt started, a soft but sad scoff escaping him, ‘I’m not scared of dying. I used to be, back in the Maze. Because it felt like my friends were dying for no reason, without purpose. But…’ Newt looked over his shoulder, past Thomas, and to the peaking spires of the Last City. To where Y/N was being held somewhere.
‘I have something to die for now,’ Newt said, eyes never wavering from the spires.
Thomas came to sit beside Newt, a sad realisation drawing his brows and lips down. ‘You’re not just talking about Minho, are you?’ he asked.
It was how gentle and matter-of-fact Thomas spoke that had Newt’s chest tightening with fear and an immense pressure he’d been scared, until now, to acknowledge. His throat threatened to close on him as he spoke, rendering his words tight and uncontrolled. ‘I failed to protect her, Tommy,’ he managed to get out. ‘I promised I’d always protect her, and I didn’t.’ 
It surprised Newt how simultaneously hard and easy it was to speak about his feelings, and now that he had started, the words just flowed. 
’She’s just always been there, so I never saw it coming,’ Newt continued, a melancholic smile adorning his lips as he recalls the day he met you, how you helped him with his ankle. How, since then, you’ve always been by his side, growing with him, changing with him, supporting him and everyone else around you. 
’Saw what?’ Thomas asked.
‘I never saw that I could have a future after the Maze, after all of this,’ Newt explained. ‘That I would want a future… with Y/N.’ And with that, his tears finally spilled over, the pressure in his chest bursting into sobs that wracked his whole body. Newt was vaguely aware that Thomas was now holding him, and so he wrapped his arms tight around his friend, around his brother.
‘I love her, Tommy,’ Newt whispered over Thomas’ shoulder, his words obscured somewhat by his tears and holding back sobs. ‘And I’m scared I’ll never be able to tell her before I go.’
‘Hey,’ Thomas said, pushing Newt to arm’s length. He kept one hand on Newt’s shoulder and used his other to grip Newt’s neck, forcing their eyes to lock. ‘We’re going to find her – and Minho, and the other immunes. We’re going to get you that serum that helps with the Flare – as much of it as possible – and you’re going to tell her. You’re not dying. No one is dying. You hear me?’
No one could replace Alby, but the way Thomas was taking control of the situation reminded Newt of his old friend. How kind yet stern he could be. How hopeful yet pragmatic he was. It was something familiar that Newt was thankful for. He quickly calmed down, wiped away his tears and nodded at Thomas.
‘Good that,’ Thomas said, a small proud smile gracing his lips at his use of Newt’s common phrase. 
Newt couldn’t help a chuckle as well. ‘Good that, indeed,’ he agreed, and followed Thomas back inside the hideout to finalise their plan to get into the WCKD facility.
…and you’re going to tell her. You’re not dying. 
There was a nagging voice in the back of Newt’s head that was telling him not to believe Thomas. That Newt was going to die, or worse, turn into a crank and hurt his loved ones. That voice had followed him from the Maze, to the Scorch, and now the Last City. It was the voice that had driven him over the edge of the Maze walls all those years ago. But not anymore.
Newt had to keep hope, just as Y/N had taught him. He just had to be brave.
~
Y/N sat in the corner of her white-walled cell, hugging her knees to her chest as she rested her head on top. She’d sat there for hours, perhaps days. Y/N lost track of time after her first month in WCKD’s facility. 
There were no windows, and the lights never dimmed. She pressed her eyes into her knees in the hopes of downing out the incessant white light. Her eyes ached with sleep deprivation, but she refused to sleep. The nightmares were much worse to deal with, and they always came whenever she closed her eyes.
Images of her friends dying in the Maze and the Scorch, of Grievers chasing her, of her friends turning into cranks and attacking her. Images fed to her by WCKD. 
She knew they weren’t real, but she could never wake herself up in time to escape them. So, she stayed awake, knowing that she’ll have no choice but to face her nightmares when the doctors and scientists come to test on her again.
Y/N shivered at the thought of seeing another needle, of seeing her blood drained from her while WCKD turned her mind against her. When will it be enough? She might’ve lost track of time, but Y/N knew she’d been in the facility for a while now. If they hadn’t found anything by now, something told Y/N that nothing she gave would ever be enough. That included her life.
She knew Thomas and Newt would be dumb enough to come after her and Minho – that’s just the kind of people they were. Her heart ached at the thought that their efforts would be in vain. 
Y/N hadn’t seen Minho since they arrived, having been separated from each other and the other immunes. Something about how they were the most promising subjects, she overheard from a scientist one time. Y/N didn’t know if Minho was alive, and if he was, what condition he was in. 
But Minho was strong, the strongest of all the Gladers in Y/N’s opinion. If he was being tortured like her, he would be able to hold on. Y/N highly doubted she would last much longer.
The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you…
Y/N wasn’t sure if Newt knew she was actually awake that first night in the Scorch, but she’d heard him, his words so soft she thought she’d dreamt it at first. But it had been real; Newt thought she was brave.
She was too dehydrated to produce tears, but an ugly sob desperately tried to escape her aching chest. She bit her lips instead, hard enough to draw a little blood, and the sob died out, leaving her body quiet except for her mind.
I’m sorry Newt, but I am not brave.
Even so, Y/N refused to crumble to WCKD anymore. They’d taken everything from her. Her life, her memories, her loved ones, her friends. Even her hope – something she so naively believed no one could take from her. They would not take her dignity.
She raised her head at the sound of her cell door unlocking, blinking a few times as bright light flooded her vision once more. Two WCKD soldiers and two scientists stood by the door, and Y/N spied a gurney just behind them. 
One of the scientists – young male, maybe in his early twenties – stepped forward. ‘Time for more testing, Y/N,’ he said in a cold tone. But he had the sense to look sympathetic as his eyes roamed over Y/N as she stood up, showing how pale her S/C skin had become, how dark the circles beneath her eyes were, how the cargo pants and grey t-shirt hung off her in areas where she used to fill.
Y/N knew it was useless, but still she ran for the door, pushing past the scientists with ease despite her weakened state. However, she hit the soldiers like a brick wall, unable to fight against them as they restrained her arms and pressed her against the wall. The male scientist recovered quickly and injected her with a serum that made her drowsy enough that she wasn’t in control of her body. She was conscious as the soldiers strapped her to the gurney and the four of them wheeled her down corridor after corridor, and all she could do was watch fluorescent lights pass her by as she stared at the ceiling. 
Soon enough, she was in a familiar room: the test lab. 
‘It hasn’t been that long since we last tested her,’ the other scientist – a female, about the same age as her co-worker – said, her words laced with worry. ‘We put her under again, we risk losing her for good this time.’
‘I didn’t make the call,’ the male said as he continued to set up equipment around Y/N. ‘When Janson says he wants a cure, I don’t question him. Do you?’
The female didn’t answer, switching her focus to helping her co-worker. Y/N could slowly feel the serum wearing off – it was obviously only a light dose, the scientists knowing they’d put her under when they began testing. 
But just as they unstrapped her to move her to the nightmare simulator, the room shook, sending Y/N rolling to the ground as glass and steel broke around her. 
Sounds were muffled briefly and her vision blurred in and out of focus. She couldn’t hear what exactly the soldiers were shouting, but she saw them run out of the room alongside other soldiers. That just left her and the scientists. 
Y/N flexed her fingers, the serum completely wearing off. Before she could stand though, two hands roughly grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. ‘Come on, Y/N,’ the male scientist said, pushing her towards the machine. ‘Just one more trip under…’
Fear electrified Y/N’s every nerve. No, not again. With a desperate cry, she shoved the male into the utensils table, sending him and the tools scattering across the ground. Before he could get up, Y/N straddled his upper body and slammed his arms into the ground.
‘Get off me!’ he yelled, struggling violently beneath Y/N. He managed to twist them both around until she was the one pinned to the ground. Y/N struggled but to no avail. She was significantly weaker than she was when she was first captured and he knew that.
‘You little brat,’ he spat in her face. ‘Ungrateful, selfish immunes. Your duty is to save us all! You–’
He was cut off when he suddenly went slack, falling unconscious on top of Y/N. She scrambled out from underneath him, then looked up from the floor to find the female scientist with a syringe in her hand. She looked between her unconscious co-worker then Y/N, a scared and disbelieving expression morphing her delicate features. 
‘Go,’ the scientist finally said, her voice shaky, but the resolve in her eyes told Y/N that she wouldn’t chase after her. The room – no, the whole building – shook again, and when Y/N looked out the window, she realised why.
The city outside was on fire. Buildings crumbled, and Y/n could hear the screams and cries of civilians through the broken windows. The scientist wouldn’t chase her because there was no point. 
This was the end.
‘Go!’ The scientist insisted, and Y/N didn’t think twice. She picked herself up, ignoring the cuts and scraps of glass it caused her, and ran out of the room.
She ran into the corridor, ignoring the cries of soldiers and other scientists who recognised her as a subject. She didn’t know where she was going, but this was the most freedom she’d had in forever.
Then a thought came to her – Minho. She had to find him, he surely had to be alive. She would run through every floor if she had to to find him. So she ran, looking into every test lab, every storage closest, every break room on the floor. 
‘Minho!’ she cried, uncaring at this point if someone heard her. She just wanted to find him. She didn’t want to die without a familiar face with her. ‘Minho, where are you?’
She rounded a corner, right into the chest of a WCKD soldier. He was caught by surprise, giving Y/N an opportunity to slam him into the wall. It was like her fear was giving her a boost of strength, as she kneed him in the groin, sending him to the ground. He dropped the pistol he was holding, and she quickly picked it up and smacked the butt over the back of his head. He fell to the floor in one last scuffle and laid unmoving as Y/N sucked in deep breaths.
‘Y/N?’
She whirled around at the familiar call of her name, only to find three other people had entered the corridor. Thomas, Minho, and Newt. Her eyes scanned over them all, heart aching with an intense relief it threatened to crush her chest. ‘Guys?’ Her voice was hoarse with disuse and exhaustion. She was surprised she even had a voice after all her screaming.
Newt stepped forward, a relieved smile gracing his lips. ‘Yeah, love,’ he said, sounding on the verge of tears. ‘It’s us.’
Y/N’s first instinct was to run into his arms, the only place she’d felt since leaving the Maze. But she took a closer look at him. He was paler than when she last saw him, almost sickly with how dark the circles under his eyes were. Crank.
She pointed the pistol at her friends, causing them to raise their hands in shock. ‘Whoa, Y/N, it’s us!’ Thomas exclaimed.
‘No,’ she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly. ‘How do I know I’m not in that simulator again? How do I know this isn’t just another test, another trial?’
‘What are you talking about, Y/N?’ Newt asked, worry crinkling his brow. 
’She doesn’t trust her mind,’ Minho said, as if in explanation. ‘Boy, they really did a number on her…’
‘Shut up!’ Y/N unlocked the safety and pointed the gun at Minho. ‘You’re just trying to trick me. Make me think everything is all right. But it’s just a lie. You’re not here. You’re not here…’
Newt stepped into the firing line. ‘We are here, love. I promise, we’re really here.’
‘Newt…’ Thomas warned, but Newt remained, eyes locked on Y/N’s.
Y/N couldn’t look away from Newt. He sounded so genuine, so much more real than previous simulations. But WCKD couldn’t be trusted, and they were wearing soldier uniforms…
Her hands shook but her voice was strong. ‘Prove it,’ she said. ’Tell me something only the real Newt would know.’
Newt swallowed thickly. ‘Okay, um… You cut yourself when you tried out being a Slicer and had to have Clint and Jeff fix you up. That’s when you thought being a Medjack would be a good idea.’
‘WCKD was watching us the whole time. They would’ve seen that,’ she countered, using both hands to grip the gun. 
‘Okay, okay,’ Newt said, looking away a moment to think of something else. When he finally looked back at her, he was calm once more, eyes genuine and sincere. ‘How about how I jumped off the walls of the Maze in an attempt to kill myself?’
The world around the four of them seemed to freeze, as if the world wasn’t collapsing outside. To Y/N’s knowledge, Newt had never told anyone the truth of what happened that day. It was the shocked and tragic expressions on both Minho and Thomas’ faces respectively that had Y/N loosening her grip on the gun slightly.
Newt took a small step closer, eyes never straying from her. ‘I had lost all hope of getting out of that bloody maze. So I did the one thing I could do to control the situation. But I failed.’ He stepped closer again. ‘I was embarrassed, ashamed. I was just a coward. But you healed me and told me something I will never forget. I have held onto it like a lifeline through the Maze, through the Scorch, and all the time I was looking for you.’
He took one final step towards her, unfazed at how the gun pressed hard against his chest. Now that he was so close, Y/N saw just how sick he was. He looked like the early stage victims of the Flare they’d seen in the decrepit city they’d lost Brenda and Thomas in temporarily. And while Y/N refused to believe Newt – her beloved, sweet Newt – was infected, his eyes were the same as always. Open, honest, and truthful.
‘The rest of us can only hope to be as brave as you.’
It wasn’t the fact that he knew the exact words – again, WCKD had cameras everywhere in that Maze, they would’ve heard it. It was instead the emotion tied to the words. She felt them, felt the lifeline they’d created for him in his darkest moment. He wasn’t lying, and that meant he was real.
Finally, she allowed the sob to break free as she dropped the gun and threw her arms around Newt’s neck. He breathed out in relief, bringing her closer to his chest, face pressed into her H/C hair.
‘It’s really you,’ she whimpered, grasping tighter to the person she’s always been able to rely on. The person who has always protected her and brought out the best in her. Her closest friend, her safety net, her home. 
‘It is, love,’ he said into her hair, breathing her in deeply. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you before.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said, pulling away to look up at him then to the other two. ‘I can’t believe you came after us.’
‘I know right,’ Minho said, punching Thomas’ arm lightly. ‘Dumb shanks.’
‘You can berate us later,’ Thomas said, rubbing his arm. ‘Right now, we’ve got to get out of here before Lawrence brings down the whole city.’
Y/N went to ask what he meant but gripped onto Newt instead as the building shook again.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ Newt said, grabbing Y/N’s hand with one hand, and holding a launcher in the other. Together, the four of them ran to escape WCKD once and for all.
~
‘Brenda!’
Y/N didn’t care about the rain of bullets and walls of fire around her as she ran for the berg. After hearing Teresa’s broadcast, she needed to get the cure back to Newt fast. Leaving him was one of the hardest things she has had to do. He wasn’t in great condition, but Thomas insisted that he’d take care of Newt. But the medicine Thomas had given Brenda all those months ago didn’t just buy her time, it had cured her completely. It could do the same for Newt.
If she could make it in time.
‘Brenda!’ Y/N cried as she spotted her friend. ‘The cure! I need the cure!’
Brenda understood, immediately retrieving one of the extra capsules Mary had made from Thomas’ blood before WCKD raided the camp. ‘Here,’ she said, passing over the injector. 
‘Thanks!’ Y/N said, already sprinting back into the war zone before anyone could stop her. 
She could feel it, the exhaustion, the strain she was putting her body under. Underfed and under trained, she was struggling. But she refused to stop. Newt had come all this way to find her, risked his life to get her out of WCKD’s clutches when he could’ve been administered the temporary cure and been safe on the berg already. No, Y/N refused to let him die without trying.
Minho, Brenda, Frypan, and Gally – Y/N was still shocked about that revelation, but that was for another time to discuss - followed around her, covering her with guns and other weapons as they ran through the war zone.
After an eternity of running, the group rounded a corner to find a sight that made Y/N feel like she was back in the nightmare simulator. Newt was leaning over Thomas with a knife aimed at his chest.
‘Newt, no!’ Y/N cried, running towards the two boys without thought. 
Newt faced her at the call of his name, and she froze as she saw his black eyes. Dark veins branched over his skin and black blood dribbled from his chin. He was a full-blown crank now. 
He raced at her, snarling as he swung the knife at her throat. She ducked just in time and rolled away as he slammed the knife down where her neck was. She quickly jumped to her feet, and despite her fatigue, muscle memory took over her legs, then her hands. That first night in the Scorch came to mind, how her and Newt sparred. The injector was her knife, and Newt her proper opponent.
‘Newt, it’s me,’ she said, slipping into her Medjack demeanour – calm and steady. ‘It’s Y/N. Please, snap out of it for a moment so I can help you.’
She thought he would run at her again, but his brows crinkled with concern and he looked at the knife in his shaky hands. He looked back at her, and the voice he spoke with broke her heart. It was a mixture of his sweet accent and a gargled croak where blood clogged his throat. 
‘Y/N…’ he started. ‘Run away… Before… Before I kill you.’
The scene reminded her of the time he came in with his injured ankle. How desperate he was to fade into nothing because he was scared and ashamed of what he’d done. But just like then, she refused to be scared of him. 
Y/N shook her head. ‘I’m not leaving you, Newt,’ she said. ‘None of us will.’
Newt seemed to realise there were more people than just her and Thomas, turning around to see the others. The sight of them seemed to distress him, though, as he snarled angrily and charged at her. She shuffled back as he swung at her again and again, but as she stepped back again, she tripped on something. She fell onto her back, knocking the air out of her lungs. Before she could gather herself up, Newt was on her, straddling her similar to how he had Thomas pinned before. Newt raised the knife to bring down on her but was tackled by Thomas.
They rolled for a little, then scrambled to their feet as they fought once more. This was Y/N’s only chance. She pushed herself up and ran for the boys, injector at the ready. Newt was bringing the knife forward in a wide arc that would gut Thomas when Y/N threw herself in between them, slamming the injector into Newt’s arm.
Right as his drove the knife into her stomach.
‘Y/N!’ 
She wasn’t sure who called her name, because all she could focus on was Newt as some of the blackness in his eyes cleared and she saw some of his gorgeous brown eyes. She also felt her body finally giving up. As if it knew that this was the end. After all the torture and pain, she had stayed alive so long for one reason. To save Newt – the boy who had been there from the start. So much so she hadn’t realised until he wasn’t there how much he meant to her. How he’d wormed his way into her heart and consumed it without her even knowing. 
She gripped his hand that held the knife in her stomach, unfurled his fingers from the handle, and brought them to her chest where her heart was slowly slowing down. Her weak legs gave out, and she brought Newt down to his knees with her. She could’ve been imagining things, but she swore she saw recognition in his half-black eyes which made her smile as tears finally fell from her eyes.
‘It’s okay, Newt,’ she whispered. ‘It’s okay because… I love you.’
Her vision blurred and she finally let go of Newt as the both of them collapsed to the ground. Her breaths were short and sharp as the pain made itself known. A rush of feet thumped around her, and she had the slightest awareness that someone was moving her, but she didn’t care. She was finally at peace as darkness, at last, consumed her.
~
Y/N woke to the sound of waves rolling over on sand. The first thing she saw was grey canvas, then rolled her head around to see she was lying on a cot in a small tent with tables and medical supplies similar to how her Medjack hut looked. But she wasn’t alone.
‘Oh my God.’ Brenda’s face came into focus as the girl crouched by Y/N’s cot, disbelief and relief morphing her gentle features. ‘You’re awake! You’re finally awake!’
‘Ow,’ Y/N clasped at her head at the sudden loudness. ‘Could you lower your voice please?’
‘Yes, right, sorry,’ Brenda said, but her lips split in a bright smile as she helped Y/N sit up. ‘I’m just so happy you’re okay.’
‘What happened?’ Y/N asked, all she remembered was being stabbed then falling unconscious. She pulled up her fresh linen shirt to see her wound bandaged. ‘I thought I was done for.’
‘So did all of us,’ Brenda admitted, her tone sombre as she pulled up a seat beside the cot. ‘We got you to the berg as quickly as possible and Vince got you stable, but you just weren’t waking up. It’s been a week.’
‘A week?’ Y/N made to get up but sat back down as her wound pulled in an unpleasant way.
‘Whoa, where do you think you’re going?’ Brenda asked stabilising Y/N back in her bed. ‘You’ve just come out of a coma induced by physical and mental torture. Not to mention you were stabbed.’
‘I’m fine. Trust me, I’m trained… somewhat,’ Y/N said, this time able to swing her legs over the side of her cot. Brenda didn’t try and stop her, but she did have to help Y/N when she stood. ‘Now, where is Newt?’ Brenda didn’t answer right away, and tears threatened to pool in Y/N’s eyes at what her silence could mean. ‘Brenda… Is he… Is he alive?’
Brenda, again, didn’t answer, and her face didn’t give anything away either. Instead, she just held back the flap of the tent and motioned for Y/N to exit. Y/N took cautious steps forward as she followed Brenda into a completely new place that had her staring in awe.
It was a bustling camp where sleeping quarters and other spaces were mapped out by canvas strung up on carved wood pillars and posts. Y/N spied a kitchen area where she swore she heard Frypan laughing with some others. 
There was a gathering area where a giant stone stood in front of the seats. There were names carved into it, like what they used to do in the Glade. Y/N tried to make out if a certain blonde’s name was on it. She caught familiar names like Alby and Chuck, Clint and Jeff. 
‘Y/N?’ 
She swung around to find Brenda smiling as she was joined by Thomas, Minho, and Jorge. The three of them ran at her, arms wide open to capture her in a hug.
‘You crazy shank, Minho said, laughter on his lips. ‘Look who finally decided to join the living again.’
‘And here I thought I was the lazy slinthead for sleeping for so long,’ Thomas said jokingly, pulling Y/N in for another hug. ’I’m so relieved.’
‘Welcome back, hermana,’ Jorge said, a warm smile gracing his lips as he gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder.
‘Good to be back,’ Y/N replied, smiling at the three males. ‘What happened after I thought I’d died?’
Thomas went to reply, but Minho cut in. ‘We’ll explain later. Right now, I think you should go say hi to someone else.’
Confused, Y/N followed Minho’s gaze to Brenda, who stood atop a hill and was staring over the other side of it. Y/N quickly reached Brenda’s position and followed her gaze to a large garden that people were working on. But her breath caught at the sight of a familiar blond at the edge of the gardens talking and pointing in all directions to people.
‘Hey, Newt!’ Brenda called out, causing the blond to turn around and look up. At first, he saw Brenda, but his gaze soon fell on Y/N and his whole face changed into disbelief.
With the other gardeners forgotten, he started climbing up the hill, and Y/N couldn’t wait another moment so she started walking down the hill. 
They met in the middle, with Y/N standing at Newt’s height on the uphill. Neither said anything to begin with, both in disbelief and awe at who stood in front of them. Y/N looked over Newt, noting he still looked pale and somewhat sickly. But the dark veins were gone, as was the black blood and his black eyes. And the sun shone so brightly that his hair looked golden. It was as if he was never infected to begin with.
With a shaky hand, she reached out to rest her hand over his beating heart. ‘You’re alive,’ she whispered, too scared to voice it too loudly in case this was also another nightmare. 
But he proved her doubts wrong as he rested his own hand on top of hers. ‘I am,’ he said, and the usual warmth of his voice truly convinced her he was real. 
His face pinched suddenly with concern and guilt. ‘I’m so sorry, Y/N,’ he said, his hand tightening slightly over hers. ‘I hurt you. I almost…’
‘It’s okay,’ she interrupted, using her free hand to cradle is cheek and keep his eyes on her. ‘You didn’t. I am here, too. Looks like we both saved each other.’
To her relief Newt smiled. It was a genuine, happy smile, something she hadn’t seen on him in a long time. He nuzzled into her hand briefly, before bringing it down with his free hand so he held her hands between them. 
‘Before I passed out,’ he started, ‘I remember you saying something.’
‘Oh.’ A blush heated upon her cheeks, but she refused to look away from him. ‘Right. I did say something.’
She was trying to play it cool, but as soon as his deep brown eyes fixed on her, she knew he could see right through her. But he didn’t smile smugly, he didn’t tease. He actually looked scared as his jaw clenched, fighting to find the next words to speak. 
‘You said you love me,’ he finally said, words tight but hopeful. ‘Is that true?’
Y/N’s mouth dried up suddenly, constricted by all the things she wished to say but couldn’t say all at once. It’s not like she was scared, she just never thought she would live long enough to have a future, let alone one with love. One with Newt.
But she had – she had survived WCKD’s cruelty, she had survived the terrors of the old world, she had survived when so many of her friends hadn’t. And it was her duty to live her gift of a life to the fullest.
‘Yes,’ she finally said, and it was like breathing in fresh air after being underground for so long. ‘I love you, Newt. I don’t know when or how it happened, but I do. I love you.’ 
There was a second of hesitation, but then Newt broke out into a wide smile, and Y/N swore she saw tears brim in his eyes. He suddenly reached one hand up to cradle her neck as he pulled Y/N in for a sweet kiss that simultaneously knocked the air out of her and breathed new life into her. He held her neck and hip, and she pressed her hands against his chest, satisfied to feel his heart thundering beneath her hands. The heart that almost never beat again, the heart that had saved her over and over again. 
The kiss was short but was no less breath-taking, and when they pulled apart neither could stop the smiles on their faces. 
‘I love you, too,’ Newt said. ‘If that wasn’t already obvious.’
Y/N threw her head back in a hearty laugh. She slung her arms around Newt’s neck, a cheeky grin dancing across her lips. ‘I’m not so sure. Maybe we could try that again to make sure?’
‘Cheeky bugger,’ he murmured as he pressed his lips to hers again. Y/N sighed into the kiss, grasping the baby hairs at the base of his head. 
They pulled apart at the sound of their friends whooping and clapping atop the hill. Y/N felt her face erupt with embarrassed heat, to which Newt laughed as she ducked her head into his chest. 
‘All right, come on lovebirds!’ Minho called out. ‘Dinner’s almost ready.’
As they walked down out of sight, Y/N went to follow but was stopped by a loose grip on her wrist.
‘What is it?’ she asked as she turned back to Newt.
‘I just…’ Newt turned to the gardens below, then to the water, then to the sunset that bathed the whole camp in beautiful hues of orange, pink and purple. When he finally turned back to Y/N, she thought he couldn’t look any more handsome with that pure sunshine smile and sparkle in his eyes. ‘Thanks.’
‘For what?’ she asked.
‘For teaching me how to be brave,’ he answered.
Y/N gave his hand a squeeze. ‘You were always brave, Newt,’ she said. ‘It’s how I learned how to be brave in the first place.’
Newt squeezed her hand in return, then they walked hand in hand back up the hill and down to dinner to where their friend awaited them. 
Where the lives they never imagined they’d get a chance to live awaited them.
1K notes · View notes
clbrq · 5 months
Text
VENOM — C. BROCK.
prompt; you and colby were toxic. your relationship was venomous and wicked. colby would constantly surround himself around flirtatious girls and spend less time with you. as for you, you had a serious alcohol and drug problem—always drinking whenever you got the chance or smoking weed in the back garden. you hated colby constantly entertaining other women, and colby hated your substance abuse. however, neither one of you addressed the issues. until one day, it tipped over the edge.
warnings; SMUT, hate sex, fingering, oral (giving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation, ANGSTY, substance abuse(alcohol and drug) disloyalty, toxic relationship, arguing, cursing/swearing, slight physical fight but not rlly.
contains sensitive themes. MINORS DNI.
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“Ahh, that’s good.” You sighed, the smoke slipping past your lips as you spoke. The smell of weed filling your nostrils as you brought the joint back up to your lips to take another tote.
Smoking weed wasn’t always a recurring habit for you. You’d usually only do it at parties after a few drinks, or with your friends at night—but not anymore. You smoked almost everyday, feeling your body tense up when you went 24 hours without the high in your system. By this point, your tolerance to the drug was so high, that you rarely got extremely blazed anymore.
“Y/N?”
The sound of your name being called caused you to raise your head from staring at the burning joint between your fingers. The figure of your friend, Aryia, could be seen stood in the doorway of the back door.
“What’s up?” You smiled, your eyes feeling heavy as you spoke.
“Care to share?” Aryia teased, walking over to take a seat next to you on the patio chairs, placing one leg over the other.
Handing him the blazing joint, you shifted your body to face as him as he took a large drag, “Mhm, this is some good shit.”
“Why do you think I smoke so much?” You joked, thanking him quietly as he returned it to your fingers.
“You not having a good time?” Aryia pondered, his eyes boring into the side of your face as you glared through glass patio door, witnessing the loud party occurring in the house before you.
Your friends hosted a lot of parties, and usually you’d have a great time. But tonight, you’d been warned to not drink excessively. So what was the point in drinking at all?
“Nah,” You breathed out a large cloud of smoke, turning your head to face him, “I’m on a drinking ban.”
Aryia laughed at your words, “Man, that sucks.”
“Sure does, but, they never said I couldn’t smoke, though.” You winked, the two of you sharing a laugh as you handed him the joint once more.
The two of you shared a casual conversation as you finished the joint. Putting it out and rising from your seat, you and Aryia made your way back into the house—being greeted by loud music and the smell of alcohol.
You scanned the room for a certain someone, hoping deep down you wouldn’t witness what you secretly knew you would. And that’s exactly what you saw.
Your boyfriend, Colby, sat on the couch, a wide smile on his face as his arm rested comfortably on the back of it—talking extremely closely to a practically half-naked girl. She wore a large smirk on her face, twirling a strand of hair around her index finger and her other hand laid flirtatiously against his arm.
Rolling your eyes at the sight, you didn’t have the energy to fight him. This happened all the time—you were used to it. You knew it would blow up into a massive fight if you brought it up, so you stayed silent, just like you knew he did with your substance abuse.
Fuck your friends, you needed a drink.
Walking swiftly into the kitchen, you’re greeted by a few familiar faces as you grab a bottle of Jack Daniels—taking a long swig. Feeling much happier as the bitter drink flowed easily down your throat, you continued to chug from the bottle as you took a firm seat on a bar stool, your eyes landing on the horrific sight in front of you.
Colby hadn’t noticed your presence, not that it would matter, as he was too wrapped up in the conversation. The girl had now scooted closer to your boyfriend, her hands now resting on his chest, slipping under his button-up. Jealously sparked in your chest bitterly as he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Feeling the buzz of alcohol and weed in your system, you shot up from your seat—anger bubbling in your stomach. Storming over to the couple, an expression of pure fury rested on your face. Once you approached them, Colby soon noticed you, backing away from the girl once his eyes landed on yours.
Without saying a word, you grasped his arm and dragged him to his feet, beginning to pull him away from the situation. Before you could make it far, a harsh grip on your arm stopped you.
“Wait your turn, bitch.” The girl spat, a scowl on her face as she attempted to take Colby back.
You laughed in disbelief, “He’s my boyfriend, you little slut.” You spat, your words slurring as you spoke, smirking as her face dropped, “Yeah, not such mouthy cunt now, are you?”
“Fuck you.” The girl mumbled, turning her back to you, ready to walk away.
“What did you say to me?” You pushed, letting go of Colby as you advanced towards her, rage filling your intoxicated body.
“Y/N.” Colby’s low voice warned from behind you, “Stop.”
“Shut up, Colby.”
“I said, fuck you.” The girl snarled back, facing you now, with a foul look on her face.
Slap!
She clutched her cheek in shock as she came to terms with what just happened. Followed by a stifled gasp as your fist grasped a handful of her hair, yanking it backwards, “Keep your slutty hands of my man, or else I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, please let go!” She begged, her eyes wide open with fear.
Letting go of her hair harshly, you swiftly turned back around, ignoring the judgemental stares of the people surrounding you, and grabbed Colby’s hand dragging him upstairs for some privacy.
Leading him into his bedroom, you slammed the door, the adrenaline from your previous encounter still rushing through you, “Don’t think you’ve gotten out of this.”
“Gotten out of what?” Colby questioned, a teasing smirk on his face.
“You’re such a prick, you know that?” You spat, your voice raising increasingly as you spoke, not caring about who heard.
“And what, Y/N? The world keeps spinning.” Colby shrugged, an uninterested tone evident in his voice.
“But it doesn’t when I’m drinking?” You fire back.
Colby rolled his eyes at your question, “You’re out of control with your drinking, Y/N, not me.”
“And you’re not out of control looking to fuck anything other than me?” You shouted, your hands shaking from the anger coursing it’s way through your veins, “I mean for fuck’s sake, Colby, you’re fucked in the head!”
“And you’re not?” Colby screamed back, your feelings rubbing off on him, “You’re high all the fucking time and getting as drunk as a sailor any chance you can get!”
“At least I’m not a fucking cheater.” You growled, stepping closer to him.
Clearly, neither of you saw the unimportance of the back and forth argument you were playing—but continued to shout at each other until one of you gave up.
“I’ve never cheated on you.” He stated, his face scrunching up in disagreement.
Scoffing, “Oh, give me strength.” You laughed, lightly, “So, that downstairs was just two friends having a casual chit-chat, was it?”
“Exactly. Finally, you’re not sounding like a crazy bitch.” Colby waved his hands in your face, accentuating his words.
“Oh, fuck you.” You let out a breathy laugh, pointing a finger at him, “You’re quite possibly the worst boyfriend on this planet.”
“Oh, boo-hoo, Y/N. Grow up.” Colby mocked, shaking his head at you, “Until you realise you’re the one fucked in the head, this ain’t gonna work.”
“So, you’re suggesting breaking up after you continuously cheat on me? What a fucking joke!”
Colby edged towards you, his cologne filling your nostrils as you peered up to meet his eyes, “You’re the fucking joke, so don’t even play that game with me.”
“Go fuck yourself, Colby. You’re such a waste of space.”
Colby’s face dropped as the words left your mouth, the alcohol practically controlling your brain as you spoke.
“Say that to me again, and see what happens.” He threatened.
“Go. fuck. yourself.” You slurred, feeling delirious as you scowled at him.
A gasp was ripped from your chest as Colby slammed you against the wall, his arms holding your shoulders as he twitched angrily above you, “I swear to God, one day I’m gonna kill you.”
Feeling a throbbing sensation between your legs, your crossed your legs to attempt to stop the feeling as he shouted at you.
“Fucking do it, then.” You argued back, “You’ll be sat in your room for the rest of your life wishing you’d never hurt me. Wishing you’d done something sooner to save us. Sat there crying your cold little heart out wishing I was still alive.”
Before you could say anymore, Colby’s lips roughy connected with yours, your teeth clashing as he kissed you passionately. Moaning into his mouth, your hands flew to his hair as your body’s tension slowly subsided. Colby’s tongue pushed past your lips and slid into your mouth—tasting the infamous drug and drink on your tongue.
Pulling away, Colby glared down at you, “You fucking smoked again, for fuck’s sake, didn’t you?”
“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.” You ordered, pulling the back of his neck down to meet your lips once again. Colby didn’t argue you back, feeling too aroused to care about your bad habits.
Still attacking your mouth with his, Colby moved you towards the bed. Moving his lips away for a moment, Colby forcefully ripped the small dress from your body, tossing it onto the floor as you hurriedly worked your way onto his belt. Quicker than you anticipated, all your clothes were off as you pulled Colby’s boxers down to reveal his achingly hard cock.
His hand reached down to your slick folds, rubbing your clit slowly as he grasped the back of your head, “Be good for once and suck my dick.”
“Yes, Colby.” You obeyed, your lips wrapping around his tip as you hand jerked the base of his cock.
Colby didn’t like this. With one swift motion, Colby pushed his cock to the back of your throat, laughing at the way your throat contracted around him as you gagged. Pulling you off him, you coughed and spluttered as you caught your breath, only to be punished once more as he returned his dick back into your mouth while protruding a finger inside your pussy.
Moaning around his cock, you licked the underside of his member—bobbing your head up and down as you sucked him. Colby’s finger curled upwards to hit your sweet spot, marvelling in the way you whined around him as his thumb rubbed slow circles on your sensitive nub. You whimpered as his hips moved back and forth—pushing his cock further down your abused throat as his fingers sped up. Bucking your hips up into his hand, tears fell from your eyes as Colby ruined your mouth—groaning loudly at the feeling of your warm throat.
“You don’t mind if I use your throat, do you, sweetheart?” Colby asked, smirking evilly as he knew you couldn’t reply. His hand tightened in your hair as he began relentlessly fucking your throat, while speeding up his movements on your clit.
You could feel the orgasm building up inside you as Colby slurred out a string of curses, your name and other degrading words.
“You’re such a fucking whore, aren’t you? You love fighting me just so you can get fucked.” Colby spat, followed by a hum of pleasure.
Your moans grew louder around him as you reached closer to your orgasm. Colby picked up on this, his fingers increasing speed as he coaxed you through it.
“Yeah, come on, baby. Cum for me, you fucking whore.” He growled, feeling you tighten around his fingers as you came around them.
The orgasm ripped through you so aggressively you saw stars, your jaw falling slack as Colby fucked your mouth harder, the pleasure coursing through him as your moans rumbled around him. Your slick coated his fingers as you came down from your high, a strange buzzing feeling taking over your body as Colby’s cock twitched in your mouth.
“Fucking take it, bitch.” He commanded, a loud groan leaving his lips as his warm load shot down the back of your throat as his hips stilled while he came.
Colby soon pulled out of your mouth, taking his fingers from your slicked pussy and bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean as you swallowed his cum, “Mm, so sweet.” He hummed, “If only you were too.”
“Shut up.” You spat, wrapping your legs around his waist as he guided his cock towards your entrance, feeling him slid his tip up and down your folds, gathering the wetness onto him.
“Shit, Colby.” You winced as he harshly pushed his dick fully inside you, groaning as he felt you clench around him.
“So fuckin’ tight.” He muttered, slowly starting a rhythm as he thrusted inside you.
Your fingers threaded through his hair as he lifted one of your legs onto his shoulders, picking up the pace. Moans slipped into the air as his throbbing cock repeatedly abused the sweet spot inside you.
“God, I fucking hate you.” Colby muttered, his head lolling forward to connect your foreheads.
“Don’t stop.” You pleaded, feeling another orgasm creep up as your arousal soaked his cock.
Colby fucked you senseless, his hips not faltering once as he rammed into you—not giving you chance to even breathe with his pace. Your hands moved down to his back, your sharp fingernails clawing at the skin as you joined your lips again, indulging in the feeling of his mouth against yours.
“Jesus, I’m gonna cum.” Colby warned, pulling away as his hands flying to wrap around your throat, “You fucking bitch, god.”
“You’re the fucking bitch.” You fought back, dragging your nails extra harshly down his back, earning a low groan from him. Colby didn’t let that slide—he picked up his pace even faster, angling his cock to press inside you deeper, abusing your cervix.
“Mhm, I’m close!” You whined, screwing your eyes shut. Colby’s hand flew to your jaw, holding your chin unkindly.
“Look at me when you cum, Y/N.” He instructed, “Look deep into my eyes and remind yourself who you’ll love no matter what. No matter how fucked up we are, you’re never leaving me.”
You nodded rapidly, your eyes snapping open to meet his brooding stare, “You’re fucking mine, you hear me?” He growled, his cock still pounding deeply into your creaming pussy.
“Yes! Colby, I love you!” You shouted as you came around his cock, the words leaving your mouth before you could even realise it. The ecstasy took over your body as you blabbered, your back arching off the bed, your tits grazing his bare chest.
“Yeah, atta girl.” Colby praised, “You gonna let me cum in this slutty pussy?”
“Yes, yes, yes.” You mumbled, feeling numb as your hand trailed their way to his hair, pulling on the stands as his hips sped up.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Colby dragged out as he came inside you, shooting his large load deep against your cervix, making you whine as he filled you up.
Colby moaned lowly as his thrusts stopped, both your chests heaving as he pulled out, then laying next to you. Regaining your breath, you stood up and grabbed your clothes—suddenly sobering up and remembering the frenzy before your glorious fuck.
“Where are you going?” Colby muttered, running a hand through his sweat covered hair, narrowing his eyes at you.
“Home.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?” You sassed, stopping to look at him.
“I said no.” Colby replied, standing up and grabbing his boxers, slipping them on as he walked over to you.
His hand slid to your face and cupped your cheek, “You know I love you too, baby.”
Batting his hand away, you shook your head, “I only said that because I came.”
Colby laughed, “Don’t kid yourself. Now shut up and get back into bed.”
Rolling your eyes, you ignored him and grabbed your dress off the floor—before it was ripped from your hands, earning a string off curses from your lips.
Colby threw your dress across the room as he forcefully grabbed your face, “Don’t fuck me off again, Y/N. You know I fucking love you, and you love me. So stop being a bitch and get into bed, now.”
Knowing deep down you wanted to scream at him and walk out, the alcohol caught up at you as fatigue washed over your body.
“Whatever, you’re still a dick.” You murmured, pushing past him to climb into his bed, getting yourself comfortable as he pulled you onto his chest.
Colby pressed a loving kiss to your forehead as you closed your eyes, “You’re such a pain in my ass, but you’ll always be mine.”
“Fuck off.”
“Y/N.” Colby warned, his voice stern.
“Fine, I love you.” You said in defeat, trying to the hide the smile that crept onto your face.
“Good girl. I love you too, sweetheart.”
You sighed as you drifted off into a deep slumber, trying to enjoy the moment of tranquility. But, in the back of your mind you knew that tomorrow it would start all over again.
-/-
a/n: lmao y’all are gonna hate me for this one but toxic relationships aren’t toxic all the time. that’s why they’re so hard to leave—when it’s good it’s really fucking good, but when it’s bad it’s FUCKING HORRENDOUS.
AND YES IM BACK YAYYY
i’ve missed y’all sm, all your messages and support are so so sweet and im so appreciative of all of u. so thank you sm and yes some good shit is coming soon. i’m trying a new writing style and format for my fic so i hope you like!!!
b<3
tag list (comment to be added to see more content!);
@morchilluv
@lovely-red2
@reem6806
@cam1ly
@mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf
@paymal7
@mattheoriddlemarcuslopez
@m-maxie-ie
@theyloveniqueeeee
@iwanttoberich420
@xosugardoll
@camille-1019
@whicked-hazlatwhore
@ilymusic27
@nanascupid
@peachhiz
@samandcolby-ownme
663 notes · View notes
mintspidey · 1 year
Text
shotgun - daryl dixon
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word count : 6.6k
summary : done with another stressful semester of your university, you invite your friends over for pizza and some pre-rolled joints you were dealt a few days ago. when a handsome stranger tags along, throwing all your plans off course, you fail to anticipate how well you flirt under influence.
authors note and warnings : daryl dixon/f!reader. drugs, shotgunning, unprotected piv sex, cum eating, some dry humping, religious guilt mentioned very briefly, build up, porn WITH plot, nsfw as fuck, high sex (both parties high and consent enthusiastically), daryl jerks you off as you jerk him off, reader with female reproductive parts. song for the fic also mentioned in the fic: girls need love by summer walker.
you don't remember the exact series of events that led a stranger to your bed, smoking your weed.
what you do remember is glancing at a text from glenn, your friend of five years, saying that he would be at yours for movie night along with his new roommate because "he seemed lonely and could use some friends."
to be completely fucking honest, you did not want to make a new friend. you did not need a new friend. you were fine with the way things were; glenn and his girlfriend maggie occupied enough of your social life for you not to feel lonely even in your one-bedroom apartment miles away from your university campus.
after an arduous day of working on your midterm papers, you just needed a good old movie night where you could sit in comfortable silence with your friends and then eventually pass out on the couch. the universe seemed to have different plans however.
it's not like you didn't understand why glenn was bringing his roommate over; you weren't heartless. hell, you have been in his position before: new to the town, no new friends, just you and four cartons of your stuff neatly packed with the help of your mother - who, by the way, did not make the move easy with her empty nest syndrome.
maybe this was a good thing. you often complained to glenn about how you needed to get out more and live out your college days to the fullest before you succumbed to capitalism and worked a dead-end job just to make ends meet. you didn't even have to go out of your house to make a new friend, he would be at your doorstep in about twenty minutes. and besides, glenn would bring free pizza from his work. you could play along for some free pizza.
the clock struck nine pm as you shut your laptop for the day and leaned back on your couch, exhausted. your fingertips hurt from typing incessantly, and your thighs were uncomfortably hot thanks to your piece of shit laptop.
tossing the device beside you, you walked to your bathroom to freshen up, try and look presentable. you wouldn't give a single fuck if it was only your friend group coming over, hell, they have seen you at your worst moments where you were crying over your life or throwing up from drinking too much and vice versa.
this was uncharted territory. sort of. you had seen glenn's roommate once when you visited glenn’s to grab the notes you lent him for intro to microeconomics. you couldn't even catch his name in the few seconds his room door was cracked open, followed by a wary glare through the sliver and a loud thud, shutting you out of his sight.
your eyelids dropped as you splashed water on your face, replaying your interaction with him to somehow analyze him by his dialogue, or lack thereof.
socializing had always been rocky for you, especially following social cues or maintaining a conversation without thinking that the other person could not give less of a shit about you.
if glenn's roommate was anything like glenn, a raging extrovert, he would do most of the talking and all you would have to do is nod and comment. judging by his reaction to seeing you the other day, however, you were afraid that he was more of an introvert compared to you.
as you picked an outfit for the night, something comfortable but presentable, you practiced your smile.
should you smile with your teeth, or offer an obligatory tight-lipped smile? did it seem fake? would it be interpreted as rude?
throwing on a black tank and some red flannel pants, some of your best clothes to sleep in, you felt anxiety glow red hot in your veins, twisting your gut horribly.
the way your body reacted to socializing was a bit much, in your opinion. you wouldn't actively worry about things, but your body acted in ways your brain didn’t. you couldn't figure out for the life of you what it was, and you weren't sure you wanted to.
a few deep breaths settled your stomach as you checked yourself in the mirror. you looked decent, and you could pass out comfortably in your living room. your hair was okay, not much could be done to it so you left it be.
it had been fifteen minutes, and glenn texted you saying that he was downstairs as a heads-up so you could "fix yourself up haha."
that little shit.
rolling your eyes, you texted him to fuck off and did a once-over around you to make sure your apartment was tidy enough. as you waited by the door, right foot tapping impatiently, that feeling returned, the one that made you want to throw up and shit your guts out simultaneously.
you heard a distant conversation from the hallway and straightened your clothes in preparation. as soon as you heard three raps on the door, you opened it immediately.
"wow that was quick, were you standing at the door waiting for us?" glenn greeted you with a box of pizza in his hand. you were about to tell him to eat shit but the smell of the food worked like a charm as you ignored his remarks and moved away from the door to let your friends, well, two friends and the stranger, in.
maggie’s arms caged you in, rocking you from side to side, "i haven't seen you in so long, how have you been!"
the girl smelled like roses, soothing your anxiety one nerve at a time. "i've been okay, just buried in exams and papers, like the usual..." you trail off, appreciating the bear hug she still had you in. you loved maggie, her voice, her energy, her eyes; everything about her made you feel lighter and absolved you of all worries.
so much so that you forgot about the figure standing awkwardly outside your door with a pack of beers in his right hand and his left stuffed in his pocket.
you widened your eyes, letting go of maggie with a kiss on her cheek.
"hey, nice to meet you, um... i'm sorry, i don't think we have met..."
"oh yeah! that's daryl, look at what he brought!" glenn exclaimed, setting the pizza down on the coffee table.
"beer," daryl commented, nodding to himself.
this is going to be fun, you thought, painfully, offering him a practiced smile to lighten his heavy aura.
daryl. his name certainly suited him. clad in all black, a silver chain hanging off his belt loops, and a top that looked like its sleeves had been ripped off. you didn’t hate the way that it revealed his surprisingly buff arms as he walked into the apartment, raising them and holding the booze, "where d'ya want this?"
his voice had a drawl to it; deep like a smoker’s, deeper with that country accent of his.
caught up in your own observations, your delayed response to daryl's simple question had glenn snicker, earning a quick and hopefully stabbing nudge from maggie.
pointing at your coffee table, you started, "so daryl, you new to this town?"
the man grunted a "yes" without any follow-up, which had you frantically search for the remote control of your tv, the best social lubricant at your disposal.
as you passed the remote control to glenn to put on a movie of his choice- since it was his turn this week- your view switched to daryl, sitting on the other side of the couch with his legs parted open and both arms resting on the cushions.
you tried overlooking the manspreading just this once.
he wore his hair down, strands covering his face dishevelledly. you wondered how it didn't bother him to have hair blocking his view or tickling his face. your gaze narrowed in, ignoring maggie and glenn arguing over which movie they wanted to watch.
daryl's eyes were focused… or too relaxed? you couldn't tell. the kajal on his lower waterline certainly made your gut flip in excitement, confusing you momentarily. he looked messy; the torn shirt, the ripped black pants, and even his greasy-looking hair for that matter. but even the short duration you knew him for, it suited him.
you kind of liked it.
“let’s watch jaws! please!” glenn protested, tugging on his girlfriend’s arm, to which she just rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“how many times do you wanna watch it?! no, pick sumn else.”
daryl didn’t care for their argument clearly, scoffing and reaching for a bottle of beer on the coffee table. the bottle looked comically small in his hands as you watched him buck his hips to fetch what looked like a lighter from his back pocket.
at this point, glenn and maggie were basically non-existent as you observed daryl holding the butt of the lighter to the bottlecap and flick it off in one swift motion. the sheer ease with which he undid the seal made you widen your eyes, an amused smile painting your lips.
you heard the faint tune of the theme song of jurassic park. the couple must have settled on a movie, finally, you thought. your eyes trailed every movement of daryl’s, focusing on the way he brought the mouth of the bottle to his lips, chugging down almost half of the drink, his adam’s apple bobbing prominently.
a foreign feeling blossomed at the bottom of your gut, making you shift in your seat. you watched intently as daryl separated the bottle from his mouth, leaving a glossy sheen on his bottom lip.
what the fuck was happening to you?
you didn’t know jack shit about daryl, you didn’t know his morals, or his background, or even had a proper conversation with him before. so why were suddenly fixing your hair and adjusting your clothes?
why did you care?
peeling your eyes away with great difficulty, you turned your attention to maggie who was reaching for a slice of pie, “what toppings did you get?”
“half mushroom and half jalapeno, no pepperoni this time though, they were out,”
you nodded at her, knowing full well your attention was still hung up on the standoffish man sitting across you. turning toward the tv, you leaned back in your seat, puffing your chest out for a deep breath and settling into the soft cushion behind you.
daryl remained silent and focused on the screen, occasionally snickering at the jokes and mumbling to himself as he nursed his beer. he really was an introvert. not the kind scared to talk, but the kind who would rather not; save his breath instead.
at that rate, you weren’t going to get to know him at all, and the tension in the air seemed to grow by the second, at least for you.
halfway through the movie, you exhaled, breaking the deafening silence from the sheer lack of conversation. daryl and maggie’s heads turned to you; glenn’s vision remained glued to the screen.
“this movie is so fucking boring, glenn!” you interrupted, finally snapping the boy out of whatever spell jeff goldblum's chest hair had him in.
“this is not fucking fair, did i ever complain about any of your movie picks?” he rolled his eyes, setting his fourth slice down inside the box, clapping the crumbs off his fingers.
“ask me if i care. we aren’t even talking, we’re just staring at this screen. look at maggie! she almost dozed off a couple of times!” you responded, leaning forward in your seat and pointing at the poor girl trying to keep her eyes open.
defeat washed across your friend’s face as he swung an arm around maggie to pull her in.
offering him the most shit-eating grin, you began, “i recently bought some pre-rolls as an after-exam-season treat… it’s purely indica so it won’t have us neurotic…” you trailed off, scanning your friends’ as well as daryl’s faces for approval.
maggie straightened her back, a glint in her eye you rarely witnessed. you knew glenn would never say no to a little bit of relaxation, especially after a long day at the shitty job he works.
“fuck yeah, now we’re talking.” daryl sighed, rubbing his temples and setting his beer down.
oh, so he was bored as fuck before.
you knew it had nothing to do with you whatsoever, especially because glenn was clearly at fault, although you couldn’t help but feel like you disappointed him.
a complete stranger who happened to catch your eye and can’t leave your mind.
holding up your index finger, you rushed to your bedroom, giddiness blinding your senses just at the mere thought of being the perfect host for your guests.
when you returned to the living room with a flat metallic box, the movie was turned off and maggie succeeded to connect her phone to your bluetooth speaker, shuffling through her numerous playlists before finally landing on one.
“you’re gonna like this song…” the girl pointed at you, her eyes following your figure the moment you stepped into the living room. tilting your head in confusion, you waited for the song to begin as the speaker turned on with three little beeps.
“honestly…” you heard from the speakers, ears perking up instantly. your eyes widened at maggie in excitement, your mouth falling agape.
daryl and glenn observed the two of you, confused at the sudden change in atmosphere.
as the instrumental in the background progressed, you rushed to your seat, nudging the lid of the box open with the pad of your thumb. the scent of weed, not the kind that stinks but is subtle and almost nostalgic, enveloped your senses. your fingers found themselves picking the well-rolled joint in your hands and asking someone for a light.
daryl grabbed his lighter, which you noticed had a sticker of a skull on it, and extended his hand. his buff, well-defined, muscular-
“you think one joint’s gonna be enough? i’m not a lightweight unlike this loser here,” daryl spoke in a full sentence for the first time, gesturing towards glenn as he flicked the lighter on and looked up at you. placing the joint between your lips, you craned your neck forward and leaned in to meet the flame halfway, two fingers ghosting in a ‘v’ under the cigarette in case it fell.
“i have plenty, daryl. getting high won’t be a problem,” you glanced up at him, through the flame, paying close attention to his eyes for the first time now that his hair was mostly out of the way.
his face bathed in the orangish hue of the flame, as did yours, revealing the true color of his eyes. they were a deep prussian blue; not what you expected but certainly liked. the spark from the lighter chipped away at the twisted head of the joint and bit the ground-up grass eventually.
sucking in, you breathed life into the stick between your lips, the head pulsing red-hot as you inhaled the smoke into your lungs. momentarily holding your breath, you exhaled, feeling an itch in your throat.
you forced a cough or two out of you before leaning back in your seat and processing the hit. your hand mindlessly raised the joint to maggie on your right, who grabbed it a little too quickly.
“honestly i’m trying to stay focused”
the song commenced, curving the edge of your lips upward. it might have been a placebo effect, the fact that you were a lightweight, or that you just hadn’t smoked in a while. but some of those reasons were catching up to you. fast.
glenn took several hits with ease, throwing his head back on the cushion and handing the roll to daryl.
“you must think i’ve got to be joking…”
his fingers, too thick for the small joint, held it with such care. like he would break it if he gripped it a little too hard. you watched the man take a long drag; his lips gently kissing the joint, drawing out the smoke to hold it down briefly before blowing it all out.
“i don’t think i can wait. i just need it now…”
you don’t know what awakened in you; maybe it was because your favorite song was playing, or that smoking looked especially attractive on him, or a combination of both, but your eyes widened unnaturally largely as you traced his movements; the movement of his lips around the cig, his chest heaving after a hit, his sharp collarbones on shameless display as he threw his head back in relief.
you were entranced.
“here.” he offered, reaching across the seating area with the joint in his hand.
you tried to make the exchange non-physical. you really did. but his fingers enveloped most of the joint and you had no choice but to fumble with them until you grabbed hold of the cigarette, his touch leaving your skin burning hot.
“i just need some dick… i just need some love…”
this was not relaxing in any way. you sat with this stranger you wanted to fuck as a song about wanting to fuck played in the background. you monitored your breathing and your posture; all of these efforts to impress this question mark of a man in your living room.
“fuck, i think i’m already high.” glenn coughed out, his head resting on maggie’s shoulder. you chuckled, nursing the joint once again.
you were not going to lie. the drug had gotten hold of you by now; your reactions were slightly delayed, you took longer to process what the other person said, and your eyelids hung lower than usual.
and there's the cottonmouth.
what trumps all of the above, however, is the pure euphoria climbing every fiber of your body. a harmony of numbness and freedom flowing through you, dusting the weight off your shoulders.
“you could be the one. we can start with a handshake, baby, i’mma need more than a hug…”
you might have underestimated the effects of weed on you. not only did it make you giggly and careless and hungry, but it also made you unbelievably horny. you looked up at daryl, a blunt weight on your eyelids having you cherish the softness of the cushions behind you. the pillow resting between your legs brushed against your core, throwing gasoline to the flame.
the nape of your neck felt hot as you swallowed thickly, trying to distract yourself from the situation at hand.
the bass from your speakers stimulated your body, vibrations traveling between your legs.
“girls can’t ever say they need it, girls can’t never say now…”
fuck, you wanted someone.
normally, you were fine being alone; it was difficult enough managing yourself, let alone someone else. and it isn’t like you didn’t have experience with romance; you had a couple of relationships in high school that obviously didn’t last. coming to university, however, made you realize just how not-ready you were to be involved with someone.
“hey can i take a nap on your couch?” maggie began, gently nudging glenn to make room for her head on his lap.
“already?” you teased the girl with no actual annoyance in your voice.
maggie nodded, tired and laying down on her boyfriend’s lap. you swore you heard daryl scoff slightly as glenn stroked maggie’s hair. you flashed a small, sort of obligatory smile at the couple on your couch.
the distance between you and daryl seemed to lengthen as half of your smoke circle was now passed out, leaving no one to pass the joint. your back strained, trying to close the gap between you and the man who did not seem to get high at all.
“hey, uh.. daryl? you high yet?”
“nah, i can go for a few more rounds.” he grunted kicking glenn’s leg in slight annoyance.
your eyes widened, bottom lip jutting out in admiration of his tolerance level, “you smoke often?”
“a lot of shit happens around… just easier to tolerate if you can forget for a while,” he spoke, bringing the roach to his lips.
“why not drink instead? why do you smoke?”
you knew you were testing the limits with this closed-off man, but how else were you supposed to get to know him?
daryl cocked an eyebrow, and you could hear him question why it was any of your business to know anything about his life.
“i’m not a good drunk.”
silence washed into the room, leaving you pouting your lips, trying to segue the conversation into something lighter.
“i like your skull tattoo.” you commented, eyeing the back of his hand. you realized it looked exactly like the sticker on his lighter. that seemed to have caught his attention noticing his slightly raised eyebrows.
“can you guys shut the fuck up?” a drowsy voice interrupted your conversation.
“what the fuck do you want us to do huh?” you retorted, turning towards glenn, who was scrunching his face in irritation.
“go inside or something i don’t fucking know!”
you would have usually kicked him off the couch for behaving like the annoying brother he is, but you had to think this through. there was a way this could turn out well for you.
‘going inside’ meant that you would be alone with daryl, probably on your bed too since there wasn’t any other seating inside your room. you looked at daryl, raising your eyebrows suggestively.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
your room was slightly colder than your living room; something about the building ventilation being fucked up. daryl didn’t seem to care, shedding the sleeveless vest he had on, his biceps flexing in the process. you eyed the posters on your wall with criticism, hoping none of them were embarrassing.
“you like breaking bad huh?” daryl commented, pointing at your wall. you nodded, a smile pulling at your lips.
“good show. you got good taste.”
your chest swelled with pride, muscles around your mouth in pain from how hard you smiled. a chill from your aircon trailed up your spine, your arms hugging either side of your torso in an attempt to warm up. daryl glanced at you, specifically your breasts pushing up against each other, momentarily, before sitting on the foot of the bed with the dying roach in his hand.
you turned off the fluorescent white central lighting in your room before pressing the switch for your calmer, dimmer lamp.
“shit was hurtin’ my eyes, thanks.” you heard daryl chuckle.
“yeah, the landlord hates me, i swear. had to get candles because that light is just so fucking ugly,” you spoke, a laugh bubbling up. the smile on your face had not left since you entered your room. the full-body euphoria made you giggly, even in the company of a stranger.
sitting down on the other side of the bed, you dug into the metal box once again, fumbling with the tempting joints as your vision blurred softly. you felt his gaze burn into your skin as you sat in your dimly lit room.
“you play guitar?” he questioned, looking away from you and at the metallic blue electric guitar placed in the corner of your room.
“a little… i’m still learning though… you?”
“used to.” daryl responded, fishing his lighter out as soon as you stopped fumbling with the joint.
repeating the same routine; sticking the joint between your lips and leaning into him, overestimating the space between the two of you this time, you climbed toward him, fists digging into your mattress as you waited for him to give you the light.
you didn’t pay attention to the way your tank top dropped low in front of him, or how quick his eyes were to check you out before nudging the flame toward the joint.
you sucked on the cigarette, eyebrows knitting in pain from the delicious burn spreading through your lungs, not breaking eye-contact with the man in your bed. you exhaled slowly, the back of your head landing on the headboard with a thud, “fuuuuck… i missed this.”
daryl tilted his head, “yeah? why? you take a break?”
“well, i get addicted to things easily… and religious guilt and whatnot…” you answered, feeling weird about your sudden transparency.
daryl raised his eyebrows, “that’s heavy shit, you don’t gotta tell me twice.”
you pass the joint to daryl, his fingers sizzling against yours for the millisecond-long touch. the scent of weed fogged your senses as he blew the smoke out, coughing immediately after.
your nerves undid themselves one after the other, head swaying to a non-existent rhythm. this strain was strong. you had forgotten how dangerously easy it was to not give a fuck when you were high.
do something, say something, you scolded yourself, scanning daryl’s figure on your bed. it felt like the universe had dropped a gift on your lap and you, for some reason, refused to open it.
your inner teenager activated the second you sat down on your bed with him, letting your thoughts run wild.
the blunt ache between your thighs grew more unbearable by the second as you wondered how his lips would feel; how they’d taste.
you wanted to be near him and feel his fingers, his warmth around you. but nothing was going to happen if you didn’t close the gaping distance between the two of you. you parted your lips, heart beating faster than ever. if he shot you down, it would be the worst high of your life and you would just have to live with that.
your mouth acted before the sober part of your mind did, popping the first question in your mind.
“you ever shotgunned?”
daryl stopped fiddling with his lighter to look at you, darting his tongue out to wet his bottom lip; that same glossy sheen sent a jolt of lightning to the bottom of your gut.
you tried filling in the silence, “you know… inhaling smoke fro-”
the man nodded hesitantly, hair moving toward his face, “i know what it is.” the drone of his accent budded excitement in your chest.
you cocked an eyebrow and inched closer to him, “i haven’t.”
he stopped all movement, looking up at you to process the loss of space between him and you.
“how does it feel?” you tilted your head, shame or dignity nowhere to be found within you.
daryl’s chest heaved as he brought the joint in his hand to his lips. you watched him, processing his movements, heart beating faster than usual. his lips worked fast around the pre-roll, leaving you wondering whether he would look the same between your legs.
your thighs squirmed, body feeling smaller and smaller in front of the man leaning closer and closer to you. his hands cupped your face, the cool metal of his rings contrasting his burning fingertips.
your lips parted as you looked up at him through your eyelashes, surrendering into his hold. pulling your face in, he switched his gaze from one eye of yours to the other.
the strong yet subtle aroma of his cologne mixed with the frankly delicious scent of the drug scrambled your senses. daryl looked down, blowing smoke in a thin stream, refusing to look away from where the smoke met your lips.
like a reflex, you inhaled, hands grabbing at his legs for balance.
the room seemed to darken in comparison to the man holding your face. suddenly he and you were the only objects in the world, floating. daryl’s hold loosened as you inhaled for what felt like years of your life.
“how about that?”
your breath staggered, processing what happened a second ago. you nodded, not pulling away from him.
daryl was definitely high. a pinkish hue masked his eyes, eyelids drooping down lower than usual, and a mindless smile playing on his lips. you could say the same for yourself, still processing the position you were in with a handsome stranger you met, thanks to glenn.
“that was.. um… yeah. fun…” you struggled to find the words, still looking into his cold eyes. you shifted your weight, the flannel of your pants rubbing deliciously against your core, making you hitch your breath.
“you gon’ pull away?” he spoke, not letting go.
“you gonna let go?” you retorted, not pulling away.
you had to grow some balls. here you were, getting high with someone you actually were interested in after a long time. that was not the right time to second- guess yourself.
fingers tracing his jaw, you leaned in.
“daryl. can i kiss you?”
you could see the gears turn in his head as you waited for what felt like years for a response. not a word was spoken. the dim lamps lit the back of his head casting an angel like glow to his silhouette.
he brought the flaming end of the joint to his tongue, putting out the embers with a soft sizzle.
you widened your eyes, “what the fuck, how did that not hurt-”
silence.
the softest pair of lips on yours shut you right up, your nose finding warmth against his skin. daryl pulled you in, fingers reaching for your hair.
what was happening?
you kissed back, sitting up straight to find balance. his hands roamed your back and stopped at the small of it. he tightened his grip around the fabric of your tank top and pulled you in. your chest leaned flush against his, feeling the outlines of his several silver chains on your breasts.
your lips grew hot with every kiss you planted on his, his tongue swiping your bottom lip before biting it gently. the very involuntary moan he pulled out of you, had his chest heaving. your fingers found his small waist, relishing the way he felt under your touch.
daryl pulled away, muttering a string of “fuck”s , eyeing you head to waist, “you sure you want to?”
you deadpanned, mouth open at the man’s obliviousness, “yeah, i’m kissing you back because i don’t want you.”
“hey, no sarcasm. yes or no?”
“yes, daryl. you?”
“hell, yeah,” he nodded, pulling you in with one arm as he made himself more comfortable on your bed.
you pressed kisses on his neck, arms anchoring yourself around him on the cream-colored sheets. his shoulders settle, a long sigh escaping his lips. the grip of your fingers on his waist tightened when you caught the scent of his cologne mixed with the cigarettes you assume he had been smoking all day.
he leaned back on your pillow, eyelids dropping as he spread his legs to sink further down on the mattress. you tugged at the waistband of his jeans, signaling him to undo his belt. as he worked on his pants, you were quick to shed your tank, revealing your bra.
daryl stopped fumbling with his belt to look at you, breathing getting heavier, cock stirring at the mere sight of a topless you.
“daryl!” you reminded, noticing how distracted he was. watching him undo the zipper on his pants and push them down had you drooling in anticipation. you did not know it was possible to drool at the sight of someone, but there you were.
you started unbuttoning his shirt, peppering kisses from the nape of his neck to his collarbones, taking your sweet time to taste him. your other hand, having a mind of its own, palmed him through his boxers, fishing his first moan for the evening.
“you like it when i do that?” your open mouthed kisses made their way to the shell of his ear.
“fuck… yeah, do it again.”
following a soft chuckle, your legs straddled his waist as you helped him remove his shirt. you weren’t surprised when his tattoos were revealed, or his numerous chains for that matter. what you were intrigued about, however, were his scars.
scars scattered across his torso, some covered up with tattoos, some not.
“oh, um. yeah, these-”
“you don’t have to tell me.”
he nodded, relief washing over him. you sensed the hesitation in his voice as he tried to explain. you could tell that was not the time, clearly.
one of your hands slipped under his boxers, feeling his length. daryl’s mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back at your touch.
daryl was big. not just length-wise either; your fingers wrapped around him but barely met as you stroked up and down his shaft. his heartbeat quickened as he bucked his hips into your palm, desperate for more friction.
you had forgotten all about the pathetic state of your arousal between your legs, completely focused on making the guy writhing under your touch feel good.
so imagine your surprise when he mirrored you, his right hand sliding down your underwear to rub at your clothed clit.
you noticed daryl smile mindlessly, wondering what amused him in the middle of getting a hard-on.
“you get this wet for a stranger?”
a jolt of lightning shot up your pussy as you detached your lips from his neck, rocking against his thick fingers to meet his eyes.
“i wouldn’t be talking shit ab-... about someone who’s got your dick in their hand,” you replied, trying to concentrate on your hand and hip coordination.
“just a- fuck … just observing,” he whimpered through heavy breaths, eyeing your chest.
his fingers deftly hooked the fabric of your underwear to pull them to the side. before you could brace for impact, the coolness of his touch met the warmth of your pulsating clit, applying minimal pressure.
“daryl, fuck, can you just-” you pleaded, grinding harder against his fingers.
“nah,” you felt his smile through the kisses on your neck as his other hand unhooked your bra with ease.
you were so fucking close. but this was a competition, an unspoken one, but one nonetheless.
trying your best not to give in to his frankly skilled fingers working your pussy, your own stroked the head of his cock, earning a choked moan from the man who momentarily stopped all movement in utter surprise.
the bouts of energy shooting up your core were ten times more intense because of the weed. and maybe, probably, definitely because of daryl. that toy in your nightstand couldn't make you clench around nothing like his fingers did just a few seconds ago.
your biggest mistake was thinking that you had gotten the best of him. his focus, although seemingly on your breasts bouncing in his face, was on his own fingers, rubbing at your folds before sliding a digit down your slit and dipping into you.
head thrown back and eyes rolling to the back of your head, you gasped in your highest voice, painful pleasure coursing through your veins.
the pad of his thumb rubbed circles on your clit, the rest of his digits gathering your arousal to rub the folds of your pussy.
“this is to- too much, oh i feel so fucking good-”
“hush now, you don't wanna wake them up,” he reminded you, the stubble on his chin scratching against the soft skin on your tits. bringing his mouth to one of your nipples, he nibbled softly, massaging your other breast with his free hand.
you brought the hand previously wrapped around him to your mouth, spitting on your palm and pulling him out of his boxers before covering him with your saliva.
it was his turn to try and be quiet, teeth sinking down on his lower lip as he watched you jerk him off, smearing your spit on his tip and dipping into the slit of his cock with your thumb.
“where’d’ya lear- … learn all this?” the drawl in his voice grew raspier.
“i got my ways,” you looked up at him, mind hazy as ever, yet still focused on what was at hand. literally.
you don’t know what came over you when you pulled away from him entirely to take your pants off. daryl watched you strip, eyes raking your naked silhouette.
“what are you doi-” he began, trying to put two and two together. you climb back into your bed, pulling daryl in by his arms.
reaching for his cock, you straddled his waist, pulling your panties aside and slapping his shaft against your folds, the mere sound of contact sending shockwaves to your gut.
you rocked into his shaft, rubbing yourself up on him, your arousal smothering the tip of his cock almost immediately.
the warmth of your core sent daryl over the edge as his hands gripped firmly at your waist, rubbing his shaft up and down your slit.
your hands grabbed his thighs, massaging them steadily as the two of you continued to grind against each other, the tiniest of frictions bringing you closer to the edge.
“daryl, i don’t think i can last longer i-”
“me neither sunshine, you wanna do the honors?”
you nodded, wetting your lips and chasing your high. the sinful noises of his cock rubbing up against your pussy as you grow wetter by the second only help you as you bounce up and down against him faster and harder.
you panted his name, eyes shut and nails clawing his biceps, the tip of his cock swollen pink and pulsating.
as you focused on cumming, you didn't notice his thumb pressing down on your clit in one swift motion, sending white-hot flashes through your nervous system, your pussy clenching around nothing. his finger did not leave your clit, even when you fell back on the mattress, feeling your orgasm crescendo as your body shook in sheer euphoria.
you gripped your sheets, whimpering through the orgasm as you bit your fingers to stay quiet. tears of pleasure threatened to spill from your eyes when you arched your back at your final clench before letting go in exhaustion, clit throbbing bluntly from the aftermath of your climax.
your eyes flickered to daryl’s cock, the head leaking with precome as he watched you cum around his cock. he swallowed thickly, hands inching closer to your figure.
“daryl, you wanna come on my tits?”
eyebrows raised, he nodded hurriedly, climbing on top of a very topless you, and stroking himself. it still seemed as if he held back on cumming too soon even though you were the first one to do so.
cocking an eyebrow, you massaged the inside of his thighs, inching closer and closer to his pelvis before cupping his balls.
a guttural moan escaped his lips, the hand on his cock speeding up its pace. his mouth fell open, “fuck fuck fuck i’m coming, im coming-”
his climax painted your chest as his elbow propped himself up near your head, trying not to collapse on you.
your fingers played with the liquid, smearing it on your breasts before bringing them to your mouth and pushing them past your lips.
daryl, still recovering from his orgasm, took notice of that, a small smile playing on his lips before kissing you. the slightly salty taste of his own climax flooded his mouth as he felt your fingers thread his hair.
pulling away, you stared at him, the sheen on sweat on his forehead and chest a pretty reminder of what just happened between the two of you.
“you treat all your houseguests like this?” you heard him through the pulsation now in your ears.
that comment earned him a playful slap on the arm. “gonna help me clean this up first?” your eyes pointed toward your tits.
“depends, can i sleep over?” he questioned, already on his way to grab some tissues, letting you know he was joking around.
you giggled, sitting up to face him, “you can come over anytime you want daryl, you bring the weed next time though.”
you swore you heard him chuckle before saying, “deal.”
__________
hii ! pls comment and let me know if you liked the fic!! <33
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succubusmunson · 2 years
Text
Use Me
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Pairing: Steddie x Reader
Summary: Tired of Steve and Eddie being so soft with you, you ask them to use you
Warnings: SMUT (minors DNI), drug use, rough sex, dom!steve, dom!eddie, minimal use of (y/n), oral (m and f receiving), name calling, slight degradation, praise, dirty talk, face fucking, ball play, hair pulling, breath play, slapping, spanking, steddie action (kissing, heavy touching), fingering (f receiving), light overstimulation, vaginal DP, creampie, small aftercare
WC: 3.9K
(i have never done anything with a threesome before, please enjoy!)
feed back is greatly appreciated!!
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If someone were to ask you how to define your relationship/friendship with Steve and Eddie, you would have no clue where to begin. It was all so unconventional. Sure, you all have kissed each other (separately), but it was always more than that. The three of you weren’t just friends and you weren’t dating each other, you were somewhere in the middle, whatever that is called. 
The stories that you heard of them made you feel a certain type of needy. You heard how Steve’s cock was so massive that it would practically split others in two or how Eddie would leave so many marks on people, whether it be handprints or hickeys. Being able to say that Steve and Eddie fucked you so hard that you could barely walk the next day? It sounded like a dream.
You wanted more than just their soft kisses and touches, but you were always too shy to ask. Too many “what ifs” being on your mind. What if they reject you? What if they laughed in your face. It was all too worrisome, but tonight seemed to be a little different. You had this new found confidence within you. It could have been the new strain of marijuana that Eddie had or it could be that you were tired of not pushing your own boundaries. Tonight you decided to take advantage of this new found confidence, to have the ball in your court.
Eddie’s small room was quiet, all except for Metallica playing at a low volume through the speakers. The three of you were feeling the effects of the marjiuana, just taking things slow. Now was your time to finally speak up, to finally say what has been on your mind. 
You sat up from your position on Eddie’s bed and looked over at the two boys sharing a blunt, “I have a question.. Proposition? Both?” The nervous rambling begins and you try to shove it down so you could spill out what you wanted to say. “I’ve been having some thoughts about us.” That intrigued them both, the two of them finally looking over at you. Both of them looking at you with their heavy brown eyes might be the death of you, but what a way to go. They encouraged you to go on.
“I want you to, uh, use me.” That wasn’t the way you wanted to word it, but it was the way it came out. You tried to read their expression, trying to find any sort of rejection.
Steve came to sit by you first, wrapping an arm around you, “use you? What do you mean?” You grabbed the half smoked joint from his fingers and brought it up to your lips to smoke. Looks like you were going to be needing more confidence after all.
Now it was time for Eddie to come and sit on the other side of you. He placed a firm hand on your thigh and you couldn’t help but to take in a sharp intake of breath from how cold his rings were. “Don’t you get it, Stevie. Pretty girl wants us to use her.” Something about the way Eddie said that sent shivers down your spine. You didn’t know just how badly you wanted it, needed it until that moment.
You felt Steve press against you more, his leg gently knocking into yours. “Is that so?” He traced a finger up your arm, stopping at your neck to brush your hair away from your ear. “Why didn’t you just say so?” His breath fanned against your ear and you don’t know if it was the drugs that were making you wetter than usual or what. At this point, your panties are ruined and they have barely even touched you.
Eddie grabbed your hand placing it on the bulge growing in his pants. You tested your limits, squeezing your hand around it, smiling to yourself when he let out a quiet moan. “Go ahead and show just how bad you want it, sweetheart.” 
Now, you weren’t innocent. You’ve had sex and all that, but with two people? This was going to be new territory, but you were determined to show them what you could handle. 
You were on your knees in no time, looking up at both of them with the biggest doe eyes. “Think we have an eager girl on our hands, Eddie.” Steve stood up and you watched as he slowly popped the button to his jeans before he slid them down his toned legs. “Like what you see?” Hearing about Steve’s massive cock was an understatement. He was big, how was all of that supposed to fit inside you? You hadn’t even seen the full thing yet, it was still covered by his boxers. When Steve pulled his boxers down was when your jaw hit the floor. You swear you’ve never seen anything that big and you were scared but also very turned on.
Eddie stood up, following Steve’s actions. He wasn’t as big as Steve, but god was he thick. Now you were wondering how you were going to fit them inside any of your needy holes. Your mouth watered at the sight before you. Two cocks aching to be touched and precum leaking from their slits. 
You reached both of your shaky hands up, taking both of their cocks into them. They both let out a shaky breath and for a moment, you feel like you had all the power in the room. 
“All yours to play with, don’t be shy.” Eddie carded a finger through your hair, lightly pulling at the base. You leaned forward and lightly kissed at the tip, feeling the precum spread across your lips. He pulled at your hair again, this time trying to pull you closer to him, “c’mon, open that pretty mouth for me.” You obeyed him, opening up and letting his cock slide right in. He was already reaching the back of your throat and you were gagging, but you wanted to take more. 
While your mouth was on Eddie’s cock, you stroked Steve. He twitched and pulsed in your hand with each squeeze and you couldn’t wait to feel it inside of you, feel both of them inside of you. Steve held in a groan and looked down at you. Your mouth was split open, Eddie’s cock thrusting in and out. Drooling pooling around the corner of your lips, down your chin. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Why don’t you,” Steve pulled your mouth away from Eddie’s cock, a string of saliva still connecting to two of you, “put that mouth to real good use and try to suck both of us off.” You were not used to how rough they were being, but holy shit, you loved every minute of it. 
You didn’t know how exactly you were going to do this. Steve and Eddie stepped closer together, their cocks bumping into each other. You wrapped your hand around both, barely covering them. You looked up at them, flattening your tongue against their bright red tips. A groan left both of the boys from above, their eyes meeting yours. You opened your mouth wide, sliding both of their cocks as far as they would go. It felt like the corners of your mouth were ripping apart, but that didn’t stop you from sucking them further into your mouth. The drool falling down your chin was running down their cocks, soaking their balls.
“What a greedy little slut.” Eddie bit his lip as he watched you. You were barely able to fit them in your mouth. 
Steve’s hand came down and cupped your bulging cheek, “look at our drooly princess.” Eddie’s hand came up to your other cheek, lightly slapping it to make a subtle sting.
“Gotta train her well, don’t we?” Eddie thrusted his cock after his words, making your eyes water. The two cocks rubbed together, both Steve and Eddie almost losing their shit. “That’s it, take our fucking cocks.” 
Both of their hands pulled at your hair, making you look up at the more. “You look so pretty like this, baby.” Steve pulled his cock out, leaving Eddie to do the same, causing you to whine at the loss. “Don’t worry, we’ll give you more to suck on.” 
They stepped forward more, pulling your head closer until both sets of their full balls were resting at your lips. You licked over them, feeling them twitch. They tasted salty and you savored it. Each suck and lick making both of the boys moan above you, curse words falling from their opened mouths. “Who knew- fuck- who knew she’d be so good at this.” Eddie thrusted his hips, his cock rutting against your forehead. You alternated, rolling your tongue over their heavy balls and sucking them into your mouth. 
All of this was turning you on to the max and you needed some kind of friction. Your hips began to grind against air, against nothing, you were desperate. “Look at that, our dirty girl loves our balls so much that she needs to grind against something.” Steve mocked you lighty. “Are you that needy?” You tried your best to nod in the position you were in. “Think we need to give our girl some attention.”
Both of them pulled away at once, their balls gently popping from your mouth. They helped you stand up before they went to work on your clothes. Eddie came around to face you, trailing his lips across your neck before working on your pants. He pulled them down swiftly and chuckled when he brought his hand up to feel the wet patch on your panties. “Is this all for us?” You didn’t get the chance to answer before Steve was pulling your shirt over your head. 
Steve’s hand came around to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them a nice squeeze. “So perfect. He moved his hands and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of the clothes. Both of them faced you, taking in every inch of your body. You had never been this vulnerable with them before and suddenly, you were shy.
Just as you were about to cover yourself up, they stopped you. “Please, don’t be shy now.” Eddie pulled your body against his, giving you a small kiss before gently pushing you on the bed. Your thighs spread automatically, “never seen a prettier pussy.”
Eddie got on his knees in front of you, pressing kisses up both of your legs until he stopped where you needed him most. “Can’t wait to taste just how sweet you really are.” He licked up your slit, collecting your wetness on your tongue. You opened your mouth to moan and Steve took the opportunity to shove his cock right back into your mouth, filling it to the brim.
“Get her to open her mouth wider for me, Eddie.” Eddie just smirked at him while smacking his hand against your thigh. Your mouth opened wider, trying to let out a whine. Steve’s cock somehow slid further down and he threw his head back, “god yes, just like that.”
While Steve was fucking your throat raw, Eddie wrapped his lips around your swollen clit. He had just started and your thighs were already shaking from the pleasure. Each time you moaned against Steve’s cock, he thrusted more, watching as your eyes water. Eddie's tongue flicked at your clit and you felt your body tense up, you were already so close to cumming and he knew it. He pulled away before you could, laughing at you. “You don’t get to cum until my cock is inside that dripping pussy.” 
Eddie sat up kneeling on the bed so that his cock was right at your pussy, “gonna be full of cock aren’t you?” You felt him tap the tip of his cock against your clit, making you jolt forward and gag around Steve’s cock. 
“Fuck, Eddie do that again.” Eddie listened, making you gag more. “She’s got a great mouth on her.” Steve thrusted his cock in and out of your mouth, his balls pushing against your forehead, just that was enough to make you moan more. 
While you were busy distracted with Steve, Eddie spit in his hand and stroked his cock, getting ready for your tight pussy. He didn’t say anything, just slid in. You practically screamed around the cock in your mouth, not expecting such a thick cock to slide into you. “Think her mouth is great? Just wait until this pussy is wrapped tight around your cock.” He grit his teeth, you were squeezing the life out of him. Eddie grabbed your hips, practically bruising them as he set a fast and brutal pace.
You watched as Steve’s hand came into view and you jumped as you felt him pinch your nose, cutting off all your airways. Your body was jerking, trying to look for any sort of breath. Eddie’s breath hitched as you clenched around him, Steve pinching your nose really doing a number on you. “Awe, look at the poor, baby.” He let up once you had enough, pulling his cock out as well so you could get a good breath. Once satisfied, you brought your mouth back to his cock, needing to feel him again. “You are just so desperate, aren’t you”
Eddie threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. “Pinch her nose again, the slut likes it.” Steve did just that, causing your pussy to clench around Eddie’s cock. “Fuck, such a good fucking good for us.”
Steve let go of your nose again, pulling out long enough for you to moan. “E-Eddie, I’m so close.” Your whole body was shaking and you were right on the brink. You opened your mouth for Steve again, him taking home in your warm mouth. Once he was settled in your throat, Eddie’s hand came up to squeeze at it. “Can feel just how well she’s taking you, Stevie. She’s just so cock hungry.” That was enough to send you right over the edge.
Your whole body spamsed as you ograsmed, your nails raked at anything you could get your hands on; your thighs, Eddie’s chest, Steve’s thighs. You pushed away, needing to let out some noise. The only thing that could be heard were your screams as they echoed off Eddie’s trailer walls. “Yes, oh my god, yes.” 
Steve and Eddie watched you unfold in front of them. Eddie was trying his hardest not to cum yet. It was like they were seeing and hearing an angel, they couldn’t take their eyes off you. 
Once you calmed down enough, Eddie leaned over your body, pecking you on the lips. “You did so well, but don’t think we are done yet.” He pulled out of your now sensitive pussy and you winced at the feeling. You didn’t like the feeling of being empty now, you needed more. Eddie walked over to Steve kissing him and reaching down to stroke his cock, “why don’t you stretch her out on your cock now? Get her ready for the both of us.” 
Watching the two of them interact so sexually was new to you. You knew that they’ve hooked up before, but actually seeing it was igniting something inside of you. Your hand moved down your body as you watched Eddie continue to stroke Steve’s cock and Steve suck hickeys onto Eddie’s neck. Your fingers found your clit and rubbed slow circles, your eyes never leaving what was happening before you.
“Liking the show, sweetheart?” Eddie smirked when he caught you doing what you were doing and a blush spread across your face.
“I am absolutely loving it.” You quietly moaned. These two men were going to be the death of you, but you had no complaints.
Steve backed away from Eddie and sauntered over to where your feet were dangling off the bed, turn over for me. “As much as I love Eddie’s hands all over me, tonight is about you.” 
He didn’t even give you time to get up yourself, his hands already flipping you over to your stomach. “It’s my turn to get my cock all nice and wet.” Steve pulled your hips back, allowing you to feel his cock right against your thigh. Eddie stretched you out nicely, but was it enough to fit Steve’s cock inside you?
You closed your eyes as you felt Steve rub his cock up and down your slit. He was using your own cum as lube. “Sure you’re ready for my cock, princess?” The rubbing stopped for a moment as he pushed your back down as far as it would go. “Need this perfect ass high in the air for him.” His big hand came down and spanked it once, making you yelp in pleasure. 
Eddie spoke from a chair in the corner of the room, “our girl likes it rough doesn’t she.” You watched his hand as it stroked his wet cock, squeezing at the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, but Steve quickly pulled your attention back to him when you felt the pleasurable burn of his cock stretching your pussy around him.
“Fucking hell, Steve.” Your head fell against the pillows, but Steve pulled you back up.
“Need to hear those pretty noises,” He bottomed out and god, you have never felt so fucking full in your entire life. There was a minor sting from how big he was, but it hurt so good. Steve pulled out, only to slam right back in. Your body would’ve fallen forward if it wasn’t for his hands in your hair. “C’mon, I know you can take it, you got to if you’re going to take both of us.”
Both of them? The thought made you moan out loud and both boys laughed at you. “Think she likes that idea, Stevie boy.” Eddie’s voice got closer as he made his way over to you, standing behind Steve. “What do you say I help you out?” You felt Eddie’s fingers slide into next to Steve’s cock and you swore you saw stars behind your eyelids. You have never felt anything like this before and it was amazing.
You and Steve moaned in unison, Eddie’s fingers making you both feel good. “I think she’s ready for us, don’t you Eddie?” They both pulled out and you flopped forward on the bed. You felt spent, but none of you were close to being done.
Steve laid down beside you and helped you throw a leg over his waist. You quickly caught on and straddled him, grinding your pussy against his cock. His face contorted in pleasure and even more so when you grabbed his cock by the base and slowly slid down, “Fuck, atta girl.” 
Eddie came up behind you, pushing you forward so you were laying your whole body against Steve. “Just focus on him, okay?” You felt the tip of Eddie’s cock slide in next to Steve’s and you held your breath. The pain was almost too much for you, but you were trying your best to push through it. “You got this, sweetheart, just relax.” 
To take your mind off the pain, Steve reached down and rolled your clit between his fingers. It must have helped more than you thought because in seconds Eddie had filled you until he had no cock left to give. 
This was all a new feeling and my god, it felt so good once the pain had turned to pleasure. You thought that a cock and fingers made you feel so full, but nothing compared to having two cocks so deep inside your pussy. They both felt your body relax and began to move. Steve pressed his feet into the mattress thrusting up into you, while Eddie grabbed your hips, pulling you back onto his cock.
They set a rhythm. Each time Eddie pulled out, Steve thrusted up. The only thing that could be heard were your loud moans and the grunting of the two boys. Your body has never felt a pleasure like this and you didn’t want it to ever end.
“Need you both to cum in me, please.” You laid your head against Steve’s shoulder and bit at it, trying to hold back more moans. 
“Wanna be a little cumslut?” Eddie yanked your head back by your throat and you just moaned in response.
“I think,” Steve reached up and pinched at your nipples, “Eddie asked you a question.”
“Yes! Yes, I wanna be your little cumslut, please.” Everything happening all at once was making you lose your breath. You could feel the coil tightening in your stomach. Both of the cocks hitting that sweet spot inside you. Before you even had time to react, you saw white. Your whole body lunged forward as you came around both of their cocks, soaking them and dripping onto the sheets below you. Words couldn’t even leave your open mouth, your brain not working properly.
Your orgasm spurred on Steve and Eddie’s. The cocks pulsed inside of you and against one another. The both of them cumming so deep inside of you and so much that it was mixing with yours, making such a wet and sloppy mess. 
It got quiet very quickly, only the breathing of you three could be heard. None of you moved, you all just wanted to feel the euphoric bliss for another moment longer. 
After a bit, Eddie was the first to move, pulling out of you and watching as the cum leaked around Steve’s cock, “I have never seen anything hotter than that.” You could actually feel the cum leak out of you and it made you quietly whine. Eddie lifted you off Steve, gently laying you down. 
“You okay?” Steve pulled you closer to him, resting your head on his chest. You couldn’t really give a verbal answer, just nodding your head with a big smile plastered on your face. Eddie spread your legs apart and cleaned you up with a clean down from the bathroom. “Just let Eddie and I take care of you.” Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead and handed you a water bottle from the side table.
You drank it quickly, needing to replenish the energy in your body. You felt Eddie lay on the other side of you, wrapping an arm around your sweaty body. “You squirted for us.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.
“R-really?” You hid your face in your hands. You have never done something like that before.
Steve pried your hands away and gave you a reassuring smile, “no need to be shy now. Eddie and I loved it.” You felt Eddie nod his head in agreement, sleep taking over his body. “The quicker we nap, the quicker we can do this all over again.
Your body was spent, it was covered in bruises from hands grabbing at you and welts from the spankings. Everything felt so sore, but so good all at once. You were glad that you had markings, it made it easier for you to remember this night, as if you could ever forget it. 
The three piled together in a sweaty, cuddly mess. Steve and Eddie rubbing calming hands over your body, relaxing you from what they put you through. It was the calm after the storm, so to speak. You couldn’t wait to do this again, you’re sure this is the best night of your life. They claimed you tonight and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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Tags: @onehotgreasymechanicanic @damn-goodbabysitter @munsaniac @stardustmunson @1800-fight-me @crissicat13 @hellfire-isnt-it @strangeballoons @sammy-lestrade
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lovelyjj · 7 months
Note
hi! can you do one where jj and the reader smoke but the reader gets too high so jj helps calm her down? thanks!
Too High
jj maybank x reader
wc: 857
a/n: sorry this took forever and sorry it kinda sucks.
(not my gif)
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You never used to smoke. That was a fact. Then you met JJ and everything changed. JJ never forced you to smoke. It was entirely your decision to try it.
JJ smokes a lot so you figured you'd give it a try. You smoked a couple of times already and you had fun. You liked it but not as much as JJ.
You and JJ were at the château. You were hanging out in JJ's room.
"I'm bored," you voiced.
"Wanna smoke," JJ offered with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Sure."
"Let's go in the twinkie," JJ added.
"Ok."
You and JJ ventured outside and into the twinkie. Once he was seated in the back of the van, JJ began rolling a joint.
When he was finished he took out his lighter and lit the joint. He took a puff inhaling the smoke and blowing it back out.
JJ always looks so hot when he smokes. You were practically drooling.
JJ noticed you looking at him so he handed you the joint. You took a long drag causing you to cough after.
"Easy there girly."
Once your coughing stopped you turned your attention towards JJ. He was placing the joint between his lips and inhaling.
JJ then proceeded to grab your face and blow smoke into your mouth. You then cradled JJ's jaw in your hand and placed your lips on his in a deep kiss.
The kiss was sloppy. JJ was relieved you kissed him. JJ wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him as you kissed.
Your lips were caressing each other's. When you were done making out you pulled away.
Then you took the joint out of JJ's hand and brought it to your lips.
You guys smoked for a while passing the joint back and forth. You were starting to feel the effects of the marijuana.
You suddenly became disoriented and confused. You started to see things that weren’t really there. You were having hallucinations but to you you couldn’t tell. They felt real to you.
You were seeing things and you started to panic. “Jayj” you asked.
JJ looked over at you and he could tell something was wrong. Your face showed distress and you were trembling.
“Woah hey baby what’s wrong?” JJ asked concerned.
“Everything is spinning and I’m seeing things and I don’t know what to do. I’m panicking JJ. Help me please.”
“Slow down. It’s going to be okay. I promise you you are gonna be okay,” JJ soothed.
“I’m gonna need you to close your eyes and take three deep breaths,” JJ continued.
JJ then reached for your hands and took them in his. He held both of your hands and used his thumb to brush the skin on top of your hands in a comforting manner.
You then closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Then you took another breath and finally one more. Holding onto JJ’s hands helped to ground yourself.
“There you go pretty girl, just relax and calm down,” JJ voiced.
“Take it easy. Your gonna be ok.” JJ commented.
“I’ll be right back princess,” JJ mused.
“Please hurry,” you asked.
JJ went back into the château to fetch you some water.
In no time JJ was back with a water bottle and you tried your best not to be anxious when you waited for him.
“Here drink this it will help.” JJ handed the water bottle to you after he opened it for you.
You took the water bottle and chugged it.
“Jayj, thank you,” you spoke finally finding words.
“Are you feeling any better?” JJ asked.
“A little,” you responded.
You still felt a little woozy but you were trying your best to remain calm and not panic. It felt like you were way too high and you weren’t sure if you’d ever smoke again. The experience was traumatizing.
But at least you had JJ. You know that he will always take care of you and never put you in any danger.
You released JJ’s hands and reached for him wanting to give him a hug. JJ opened his arms for you and you fell into his embrace.
After a while the effects of the weed wore off. You felt a lot better and you were calm. JJ and you were a perfect pair. And you loved each other very much. You went on adventures together, partied together, and smoked weed together. Now JJ loves his weed but he loves you more.
When your smoke session was over you went back into the château and into JJ’s room.
“Can we cuddle I just want to be close to you,” you asked.
“Of course my love,” JJ responded.
JJ took off his shirt and hopped in bed. You followed after him. JJ had his arms open for you to crawl into. You laid your head on his bare chest and closed your eyes finally finding a slice of peace.
Eventually you both fell asleep both happy to be with each other. Even though the day’s events took an unexpected turn you still treasured the time you spent together.
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bitchesgetriches · 11 months
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Bitches I need some advice.
I'm fat, okay? I'm not ashamed about it. It just... Is. I'm fat.
Being fat is also fucking me up. It's causing me sleep problems, it's fucking my joints, I can't walk as far as I used to, I haven't run in years.
I want to lose weight. Not for anyone else. For me. I want to be fit again.
I'm surrounded by people telling me I'm "not fat" and need to "love myself like I am". I'm 210lb and 5'3". Ya girl is fat. And I'm okay with that it's not a bad word. I love myself. But I also love the things I used to be able to do when I was fitter. It's just really fucking hard.
I've got zero support left and right. And I don't know what to do. I know this isn't your area of expertise, but you're such great internet mamas that maybe you can help.
My darling child, we are SO humbled that you came to us with this. And while this isn't an area of our OFFICIAL expertise... weight and athleticism is something that I, Piggy, personally think a lot about! So let me see if I can offer some support to you, my beloved fat child.
By way of background: I have never been fat. Heavier than I want currently, but not fat. So I don't completely understand what you're going through. I have always been an athlete of one sort or the other. But more than that, I have always had the privilege of being relatively skinny without trying. At peak fitness I was running and rock climbing and doing all the stretchy and weight-trainy stuff. I was 5'5" and 130 lbs of jacked Bitch.
I am also a proud Italian American woman, which means that after 30 genetics decreed that I start putting on weight and rounding out and coming into my full Zia-ness. I'm currently 155 lbs. and running/climbing/stretching/jumping about/weight training is getting harder and harder. And that's frustrating to me.
Fat is not a bad word, merely a descriptor. So I'mma use it just as you have! I'm proud that you are prioritizing your health and ability to do what you love over losing weight for the sake of just being smaller. Because let's be clear: weight and health do not necessarily go hand in hand. If your goal is to improve your sleep quality, energy levels, and joint pain, then you should focus on activities that will work directly on those issues. Maybe that'll lead to weight loss--maybe not!
A lot of the medical establishment is cruel to fat people, so I'd be cautious about approaching this with your doctor. But you SHOULD get medical guidance before embarking on any kind of physical change. If your doctor says "Well, just lose weight through diet and exercise!" then you might want to look for a new doctor. If they instead offer practical solutions for incremental improvement, then great.
One of my favorite athletes is The Mirnavator. She's a fat marathon runner and offers a lot of information on how to start walking more and running as a fat person. I think she'll be a good role model for you as she focuses a lot on energy and joint health.
Also, you should check out Aubrey Gordon's blog Your Fat Friend and her podcast with Michael Hobbes, Maintenance Phase. She's also got some great books out! She's a fat expert on weight loss and diet culture. And her insights into healthy nutrition and body image are amazing. Her data-based approach will help you avoid the extreme dieting and weight loss trends that can hurt your health. Plus she's funny as fuck.
Lastly I will just say that mental health is tied to physical health. You're bummed about not doing the things you use to be able to do... and that probably makes it a lot harder to change! Acknowledge any depression or anxiety you feel about being fat and give yourself compassion. Start small and do what feels good.
Now here are two VERY old articles I wrote when I knew less about fatness. I think they still have a little bit to offer, though:
Why You Probably Don't Need That Gym Membership
Run With Me if You Want to Save: How Exercising Will Save You Money 
Any fat members of Bitch Nation who want to weigh in? Uh... pun not intended.
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alwritey-aphrodite · 9 months
Text
Never Looked Back
Prologue of There’s Nothing Like This
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader
Warnings: none :)
Word Count: 1.3k
Author’s Note: the rest of the chapters will have more Jamie and more words. Shoutout to @buckychristwrites for letting me word vomit to her and to my wife @andr0medafallen for being a supportive baddie
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Flying has never been your favorite thing, and as you begin your descent over London, you’re reminded of the last time you’d flown this far. You’d been seventeen, alone and anxious and on your way to Chelsea, brimming with excitement over finally reaching your dream.
Not even seven months later you were on your way home, ligaments torn and joints aching in a way you’ll never get rid of.
Now, sitting for so long makes your hips cramp and your knees lock and you can feel your ankle swell and pulsate with pain. You know your back would start cramping if you weren’t landing, so you have something small to be thankful for. Really, you’re just lucky that you have a few days to recover before training begins.
It hits you how pathetic it is that you, a professional footballer, need to recover from a plane ride. You try not to let it bother you, try not to wallow in self pity and hatred the way you did when you were 17, laying on your mother’s couch post-op and believing your life was over.
If only you could see yourself now, on your way to join the brand new AFC Richmond women’s team.
The idea of leaving the US was nerve-wracking, but you simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to play in England again, to try one more time to achieve a dream you’d had since you were a little girl. It was so clear that everyone you talked with truly believed in creating a space for women, to support them and push the sport forward, and that starting a women’s team wasn’t simply a way to keep up with other clubs, to stay relevant.
As the plane lands, you finally allow yourself to feel excited in that same giddy way you did the last time you made this journey. You were finally one step closer to making your dreams come true, and you weren’t going to let your negative thoughts and fears ruin it for you.
The entire ride to Nelson Road, you couldn’t help but let that giddy excitement course through your veins, feeling like you’re a little kid again and on your way to your first day of school. You can’t help but wonder who’ll be in your class, who your teacher will be. The Richmond women’s team has been kept fairly quiet, and you have practically no idea what you’re getting yourself into.
Walking through the doors, your nerves start to build again, and you think your heart is going to beat right through your ribs as you make your way to the front desk. Before you start speaking, you need to take a deep breath or else you’re worried you’ll collapse, and that seems like bad luck considering you’re here to be an athlete.
“Hi, I’m here-“
“I know why you’re here,” the receptionist cuts you off and you’d be upset if she wasn’t beaming at you, “Ms. Welton is waiting for everyone in her office.”
The receptionist shows you the way, gesturing up a grand staircase that gives you plenty of time to freak out some more, your anxiety only growing the closer you get to the owner's office. As you open the door, you wonder if it’s too late to turn and run and catch a flight back to America.
All those feelings disappear when you see one of the other players talking with a gorgeously tall woman, and you can’t help but to squeal despite how unprofessional you know it makes you look.
“Mackie!” You yell out, causing the other woman to turn towards you, a grin blooming on her face when she notices you. Claire McKenzie had been one your best friends since you both debuted for the US team together at twenty years old, bonded by your age and your bench riding skills.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” She asks as she pulls you into a tight embrace, completely forgetting about everyone else in the room.
“I’m here to play some fucking football!” You reply, feeling ten times lighter than you did in the hallway now that you know you have Mackie on your side.
Breaking apart from the hug, you feel everyone’s eyes on you and you’re wishing the floor could just open up and swallow you when the woman who must be Rebecca Welton smiles kindly at you.
“I’m glad to know some of you ladies are already friends,” she says, the room breaking into laughter and the weight lifting off of your chest.
After everyone had arrived, she took the time to introduce herself and the few other non-players in the room, including Keeley Jones, the true mastermind behind the Richmond women’s team. No matter how much this team means to you, to the rest of the team, to Rebecca, it means ten times more to Keeley. This was her idea, her baby, and you can already feel the pride and excitement radiating off of her at the sight of the team gathered before her.
You’re determined to win it all for her.
“This is Coach Kent, and Beard and Nathan Shelley will be your assistant coaches until we can find someone to fill those spots permanently,” Rebecca says with a smile, but you can all feel the tension coursing underneath the surface.
“So no one wanted to coach us?” A voice from the back of the room asks, and it’s like you’ve been drenched in freezing cold water now that somebody’s said it out loud.
“No one has expressed interest… yet,” Rebecca adds, trying to keep up her jovial facade as the players start to mutter to each other. It feels like you’re in gym class again, standing and hoping and praying you get picked for dodgeball but knowing you’ll be last again.
“Oi! I fucking want to coach you, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Roy says, sounding angry but you can’t quite place what he’s truly feeling, “and these two want to fucking coach you.” Beard and Nate nod, Roy crossing his arms across his chest as your murmurs die down, placated by his statements.
“With the limited space and limited coaching staff, there will be some days where you share training with the boys, but we’re all one big family here,” Rebecca adds, and you can tell by now that the smile plastered on her face is fake, that she’s trying to convince herself as much as she’s trying to convince you.
As you wrap up in the office and head downstairs to see the dressing room, you can’t help but feel as if the entire world’s against the team, against you. All you know right now is that you’re going to need to work ten times harder than everyone else to prove yourself to the fans, to the media, to the world.
Passing by the men’s dressing room, you briefly lock eyes with someone walking towards the pitch, who smiles as you pass. It’s so quick that your brain isn’t able to process who it is, so you try to forget it and follow the rest of the team to the brand new women’s dressing room.
The players rush into the room as if the floodgates opened, everyone trying to find their kit and their name and their number. As much as you want to play it cool, want to make a good first impression on Rebecca and Keeley and the coaches, you can’t help but grin and run with the other girls, everyone giddy as they see the kits in person.
When you finally find yours, you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes.
It’s the classic Richmond blue, with your name in bold white above a large number nine.
It’s as if everything you’ve ever wanted is right in front of you: you’re a striker on a team you care about. You know it’s going to be an uphill battle, know you’re going to need to prove yourself over and over and over, but right now, with your kit in your hand, your team laughing and smiling around you, you think you can face it.
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siancore · 9 months
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After the Smoke Settles | Attoye | E | 2.4k words | AO3 Link
For Attoye Week 2023 @attoye-week
Day 2: Alternate Universe - Biker!Attuma and Party Girl Okoye
Summary: Attuma is the Sergeant-at-Arms for the Talokanil War Gods M.C. There is a tentative alliance between his M.C. and local Wakandan crime boss M'Kathu AKA The Chief. Both organizations are celebrating a year of successful partnership with one another. Attuma, new to the local chapter, sees Okoye at a party at his M.C's clubhouse. He wants to get to know her, but she is The Chief's daughter. Namor warns him not to go near Okoye because her father is overprotective and it would surely sour their alliance, but Attuma won't say no if the Wakandan beauty is interested in him -- even if it is just for one night.
Content: Unprotected sex; oral sex; hooking up; recreational drug use; drinking; drunk sex; dirty talk; language; minor violence.
The sounds of laughter and clinking drinks filled the space of the club room. Attuma stood next to his friend and new President, Namor. Ever since Attuma had come over and joined that chapter of the Talokanil War Gods Motorcycle Club as their Sergeant-at-Arms almost two months prior, he had been fitting in well. Namor ran a tight ship. They were working on forming alliances with other outfits in order to continue their operations. Having grown up together, Attuma and Namor knew and trusted one another. It was the reason why Attuma came to work with him.
They glanced around the club room, watching their brothers enjoy the party. Namor did not often throw parties, but they were celebrating a year of an alliance with the Wakandans. A year of prosperous partnerships for both outfits.
Both parties were having fun. The mood was light. Drinks were flowing, the music was good, and a few people were dancing. Attuma’s eyes fell on a group of young women at the edge of the makeshift dancefloor. A couple were Sweet Butts, and the rest were Wakandan. He watched them dance and laugh, enjoying themselves, until another young woman from the Wakandan group ambled over – scratch that – glided over.
Attuma was certain his jaw dropped at the sight of her. Big doe eyes; long braids; dark skin; and a blinding smile. She was breathtaking. She danced her way into the center of the circle of girls, twirling as she went. The yellow form-fitting dress drawing attention to her slender body and round ass. Attuma was practically salivating.
“Sakun winik,” said Attuma to Namor. “Who’s that?”
“Who?” Namor replied.
“That goddess in the yellow dress.”
Namor looked over at the dancefloor and then back to Attuma.
“Don’t go there, itz’in winik.”
“Why not? Is she someone’s Ol’ Lady? I’ve never seen her before. What’s her name?”
“Okoye.”
“Okoye,” Attuma repeated, enjoying the way her name felt on his lips.
“And she’s off limits. That’s the Chief’s daughter. He’d probably bury anyone who even looks at her.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m serious. You know Long John Silver over at the shop?”
“Yeah, that white boy with the eyepatch? Wait, you tellin’ me the Chief knocked that kid’s eye out for lookin’ at his daughter?”
“Nah, he got into a hunting accident or some shit and lost it. But, the Chief cut off his trigger finger ‘cause he was in the club and tried to touch Okoye’s hair without her permission.”
“Fuck,” said Attuma before laughing. “Silly prick deserved that.”
“Right,” Namor replied. “No more hunting for his ass.”
Attuma laughed once more and then said, “If he even looks at my future wife, I’ll take his other fuckin’ eye.”
“Attuma,” Namor warned. “Leave her alone. We’re celebrating a year of peace with the Wakandans. Don’t fuck it up over a pretty girl.”
“Christ, brother. I’m not gonna fuck anything up. It’s cool. I won’t go near her.”
The party was in full swing and Attuma needed some time on his own away from the revellers. He stood out in the high-walled yard and lit a joint. A bike’s engine revved outside the gate before it opened and let someone in. A girl shrieked and then laughed off in the distance. A beer bottle smashed nearby.
Attuma took a long pull at his joint and then leaned his head against the wall of the clubhouse. The door nearest to him flung open and two people stepped out. The sound of footfalls on gravel caused him to look over in their direction.
“You need to stop!” said a young man.
“Fuck you,” the woman replied.
Attuma straightened up and narrowed his gaze. It was the Chief’s daughter, Okoye. She was being followed by some guy, who then reached out and gabbed her by the arm.
“Don’t touch me, W’Kabi!”
“We’re leaving, now,” said W’Kabi firmly as he tried to drag Okoye away.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Stop being such a brat and move your ass!”
Attuma eyes narrowed even more, he flicked his joint to the ground, and then walked towards the pair.
“Hey, Okoye, right?” he asked when he got close. “Are you okay? This asshole giving you trouble?”
She turned her head, then looked up at Attuma’s face. Before she could answer, W’Kabi spoke up.
“Fuck off and mind your business,” he spat, tugging on Okoye’s arm once more.
Attuma stared him down and then looked back at Okoye.
“You wanna take your hand off o’ the young lady?” said Attuma, inching closer.
W’Kabi let go of Okoye’s arm and poked Attuma in the chest.
“I told you to fuck off –”
Before he could finish his sentence, Attuma grabbed W’Kabi’s wrist and twisted it, causing him to groan loudly in pain.
W’Kabi bent over as Attuma leaned down and said, “Nah, I think you need to fuck off before I break your arm and your face, lil’ bitch.”
Attuma then pushed W’Kabi away, causing him to stumble, before he righted himself, threw Attuma an unimpressed look, and walked away. Attuma watched him leave, before turning to Okoye.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than before.
“Yeah. I mean, yeah. Thank you.”
“I don’t usually step in when couples are arguing –”
“I’m not with him,” she replied quickly. “He’s just some asshole who works for my father.”
“Why was he putting his hands on you?”
“Because he thinks he has the right to as my bodyguard.”
“That bitch made motherfucker is your bodyguard?” asked an incredulous Attuma.
“Not anymore,” Okoye replied as she grabbed her phone and started to dial a number. “Hey, what’s your name?”
“Attuma.”
“Hi, Attuma. Sorry, excuse me a sec. Hello?” she said into the phone. “Baba? Yes. Everything’s fine. I don’t want W’Kabi on my security detail anymore. He put his hands on me. Yes. Yes, I’m okay.”
She looked down at the small patch on Attuma’s vest and then said, “The Sergeant-at-Arms of the TWG stepped in and helped me. New guy. Attuma. Yes. Baba, I’m okay, really. Attuma’s going to look after me. Sure.”
Okoye removed the phone from her ear and then looked at Attuma.
“My father would like to speak with you,” she said handing the phone over.
Attuma knit his brow but answered.
“Hello, sir? Yes. Well, the guy was yelling at your daughter and tried to forcibly drag her away. Yes. Yes, sir. I stepped in, roughed him up a little, and made him leave. No need to thank me, anyone would help like that. Yes. I appreciate you saying so. That’s fine. Happy to help. Thank you, sir. Goodnight.”
Attuma handed the phone back to Okoye. She bid her father goodnight after reassuring him she was safe and well.  She looked at Attuma who stared back at her. He ran his fingers through his hair and gave her a small smile, which she returned.
“My father asked if you would wait with me until his driver picks me up. Is that okay?”
“Of course,” said Attuma.
He gestured for her to follow him to one of the picnic tables that stood over near the high wall. Okoye walked beside Attuma, and they both took a seat beside one another.
“So, how did you know my name?” she asked while positioning her body so that she was facing him.
Attuma placed both of his legs astride the bench seating. He licked his lips absently and said, “A lady like you steps in the room and a man like me finds out your name pretty quickly.”
“Alright then,” Okoye replied with a nod and a smile. “Thanks again for what you did.”
“It was nothin’. I hope these guys who work for your father all don’t think they can treat you like that.”
“They don’t,” she proffered sincerely. “Just W’Kabi. He thinks because we grew up together that things are different between us. They’re not. He’s still one of my father’s shit kickers.”
“Yeah, well, fuck him,” said Attuma, as he reached in his pocket to get another joint and his lighter. “I’m done talkin’ about that asshole.”
He lit his joint and took a deep drag before holding out to offer Okoye some. She gave him a crooked, devilish sort of smile and leaned forward. Okoye placed both hands to Attuma’s thick thighs and shifted closer. Their faces were close, and heat was radiating from both of their bodies. When Okoye’s lips neared Attuma’s, she licked them and said, “Shotgun me.”
Attuma placed his hand to Okoye’s slim waist to hold her in place. He then released the smoke from his mouth and blew it between Okoye’s lips. She closed her eyes and drew the smoke in. The effects of the drug and the headiness of being in such proximity to Okoye made Attuma’s head spin. He didn’t know how long he had been staring at her, but suddenly realized the young woman had climbed into his lap, with her legs wrapped around his hips and her arms draped over his shoulders.
“You’re pretty,” said Okoye as she ran her fingers through his long tresses.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” Attuma replied, staring into the darkness of her obsidian eyes.
“We don’t have much time.”
“For what?” he asked, tightening his grip on her hips.
Okoye leaned forward and pressed her lips to Attuma’s. He deepened the kiss immediately. She pulled away slightly, and he followed her, craving more.
“For me to show you how grateful I am for you stepping in to help me.”
Attuma brought his hand up to cup Okoye’s face before he said, “You don’t have to do anything to thank me, Sweetness.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” she asked, a conspirative expression crossing her beautiful face.
“Hmm,” Attuma nodded.
“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do,” she whispered close to Attuma’s ear. “And I really wanna do you.”
…..
As far as bad ideas went, the one that had found Attuma and Okoye in the small office felt way too fucking good. After shoving most of the papers from the desktop, Attuma laid Okoye down and sunk to his knees. She hiked her dress up and placed her legs over his shoulders.
Attuma ran his hand over the lace panties Okoye was wearing and she shivered. He stuck his fingers under the garment and then tore them from Okoye. She let out a little welp.
“I’m keepin’ these,” he said as he shoved the torn panties into the back pocket of his jeans.
Before Okoye could reply with a smart answer, Attuma had began to suck kisses to her inner thigh as he toyed with her clit. He hummed against her skin as he peppered biting kisses there. Okoye let out a moan when his lips made their way to her glistening pussy. Attuma ran his tongue over her slit and up to her sensitive nub. He sucked her clit into his mouth and hummed once more. A wave of pleasure washed over Okoye. She laced her fingers through Attuma’s hair as he ate her out. She came moments later with a shudder and his name on her lips.
…..
“Fuck – Ma, this pussy so tight,” said Attuma as he sheathed his impressive length inside of Okoye.
He had her bent over the desk with his raw dick deep between her swollen folds.
“You gonna do something about it or just stand there looking pretty?”
“You got a smart mouth on you, Sweetness,” he said sharply, as his hips snapped forward. “Won’t be so smart with this dick in it.”
He thrust forward again with more fervor, causing Okoye to whimper and curse.
“Shit – shit.”
“Fuck.”
“Wish we had time for that,” said Okoye as she threw her ass back, drawing a loud moan from Attuma’s lips. “Really wanna choke on it.”
“Fuck,” said Attuma as he grabbed at Okoye’s throat and pulled her head back while he rammed his cock into her again and again. He lifted her leg so that it was rested on the desktop as he wrapped a hand around her chest to draw her back to him. Attuma kissed Okoye’s neck and then bit down onto her shoulder, all the while he kept driving himself into her.
His orgasm was drawing nearer, and he could feel that Okoye’s was, too. She was almost crying out in pleasure as her walls clenched around his dick. Soon, she was creaming over his length and coming hard. Her well-fucked cunt drew Attuma’s aching cock deeper inside and he finally came. He didn’t pull out, but both of them were too fuck-drunk to care.
After a moment, Attuma withdrew himself and found something to clean them both up with. Okoye was still bent over the desk as Attuma fixed her clothing, and then his.
“Damn,” she said, all breathless and beautiful. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk.”
Attuma let out a little laugh and then wrapped his arms around Okoye. He turned her so that she was standing and facing him. He captured her lips in a slow, sensuous kiss before running his hand up and down her back.
“That was fun,” she said, threading her fingers through his hair again.
“You were amazing,” Attuma replied.
“We should do this again some time,” said Okoye as she rested her hands on his firm chest.
“Definitely,” Attuma offered as he dipped down to kiss Okoye again. “Let me know when and where, and I’ll be there.”
…..
The meeting was almost at its conclusion when Namor poured himself another drink and said, “One last order of business.”
The brothers around the table gave him their attention even though some were watching the clock.
“The Chief wanted to give his formal thanks to our brother Attuma for lookin’ out for his daughter last weekend at the party.”
Some of the men patted Attuma’s shoulders.
“You did a good thing, Attuma,” said Namor. “His girl is his pride and joy. You did both of them a solid by takin’ care of her when she was on our property.”
“Any of us would’ve done the same thing,” Attuma said, leaving out the part where he had fucked Okoye within an inch of her life. “Just glad we’re in their good books.”
“You definitely are,” Namor replied. “The Chief wants to hire you as his daughter’s bodyguard. Interim bodyguard, actually.”
“What?” asked Attuma, genuinely shocked.
“Apparently you made a real impression on her,” Namor explained. “She asked her father for you specifically to look out for her until they hire someone else. You up for it?”
Attuma thought about the offer for less than a beat before her said, quite enthusiastically, “Yeah. Fuck yeah. I’m up for it. Sign me up.”
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threadbaresweater · 9 months
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If Not For You
Aki Hayakawa is the non-committal type. Aloof, quiet, and mysterious, no one really seems to know much about him. You're a quiet wallflower studying at the same university as him, navigating a tumultuous friendship with a girl who is your polar opposite in every way. When you meet Aki, your little world is flipped on its head, and nothing will ever be the same again. This is part one of a multi-part fic that I started writing last year, and in a desperate attempt to get my writer mojo back, I'm posting the first part. Cw for part 1: alcohol use, mention of sex, cigarettes and weed. Reader is female. College AU- all characters mentioned are aged 20-22. I haven't a clue how many parts this will end up being, so have patience and bear with me. Part 1 is ~4.1k words.
Parties weren’t really your thing.
You were always anxious about going to begin with; always the introvert, never wanting to do anything to attract attention, you weren’t exactly brimming with excitement. You’d rather spend a quiet evening in the comfort of your own apartment or in some other familiar place with a handful of close friends than to attend a gathering of people you barely knew, most of them older and louder than your usual crowd.
Your best friend insisted, however. She’d always been more outgoing than you, always trying to pull you out of your comfort zone by introducing you to new exciting experiences. She had an infectious– almost manic– energy that made your people-pleasing self feel like you couldn’t say no to her, so when she opened your closet to put together an outfit for you, you nodded in silent assent.
“I think you need to look at this as an opportunity,” she said, throwing a few shirts onto your bed, then bending over to root around for a pair of shoes on the floor. “You’ve been talking about how lonely you feel when Denji and I are together and you don’t have anyone to talk to. Maybe you’ll meet someone tonight! Someone who will sweep you off your feet and love you like you’ve never been loved before.” She turned to you and gave you a lopsided grin, holding up a pair of shoes that she’d deemed worthy for you to wear tonight. “Or he could just bone you and put a smile on your face. That’s always an option, too.”
You felt your face heat up and averted your eyes, scratching the back of your neck, but your friend laughed. She was partially right about how you felt. She’d been dating Denji for a couple of months now, and the two were practically a package deal at this point. You’d begun to feel like a third wheel when all of you hung out together and you knew it would eventually get to a point where you wouldn’t be welcome to spend as much time with them as you had been. It wasn’t that you didn’t have other friends– but you kept your circle small, and many of the others you would spend time with on rare occasions were also quiet and kept to themselves. Your boisterous, over-the-top best friend kept life interesting and unpredictable. Though you’d often argue with yourself over the logistics, she was definitely your preferred person to hang out with.
You arrived fashionably late to the party, where the drinks were already flowing free and the unmistakable smell of marijuana smoke permeated the heavy nighttime air as you approached the house. A small group of upperclassmen eyed the two of you as you made your way to the front door and you heard them murmur something before they turned back to passing a joint between them. You could feel the steady thrum of a bassline in the sidewalk as you walked and mentally steeled yourself for the onslaught of sound that would inevitably invade your senses as soon as you opened the door. Denji greeted your friend first, and she leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and nearly knocking him flat. She squealed and caught his mouth in a sloppy kiss before sliding away from Denji and pulling you closer by the waist. Denji wiped his lips with the back of his hand and grinned at you, wide and welcoming.
“You came!” he shouted over the music, over the din of the already rowdy crowd. “Let’s get you ladies a drink, yeah?”
Your friend grabbed your hand as the three of you wound your way through the foyer and into the kitchen, where a massive island boasted dozens of bottles and a keg had been tapped. Thankfully the music didn’t seem quite so loud in this part of the house, so you were able to talk a bit more freely. Denji poured you a concoction of something and you took a sip, recoiling at the unpleasant bite. The alcohol quickly warmed you on the way down, however, and you studied the contents of the cup with a shrug before taking another slug.
As you looked around, nodding your head in time with the music, you realized that you barely knew anyone here. You’d seen some of their faces in passing, sure, but on a campus the size of a small country, it was easy to blend in. It was one of the reasons the school appealed to you in the first place. Sure, class sizes were huge, but the fact that you could remain just another face in the crowd was a comfort to you.
Lost in your own thoughts for a few minutes, you hadn’t noticed that Denji and your friend had already made their way into the room where the music played the loudest. People were dancing, bodies grinding together under dim lighting, hazy with smoke and pungent with the smell of cigarettes, of alcohol and heady perfumes and pheromones. Alone already, and you’d literally just arrived, you chuckled to yourself to try and quell the panic that rose like bile in your throat and made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.
Some best friend she was.
Hey, come to this party! (So I can find Denji and ditch you)
I promise you’ll have a good time! (I know you don’t know anyone, but it’ll be cool. I swear.)
If you left, it would take her hours to realize. You knew what she’d do– she and Denji would dance for a while, he’d probably pop a boner, and they’d end up fucking for hours in one of the bedrooms upstairs. By the time she’d realize she’d forgotten about you, you would have been home in bed with a few blissful hours of sleep under your belt.
You finished your drink and stood on tiptoe, craning your neck to confirm that the happy couple was still gyrating on the dance floor. Easily spotting Denji’s blonde hair, you heaved a sigh and pushed your way through the crowd back to the front door. No one seemed to pay you any mind at all, as if you weren’t really even there in the first place. Your head buzzed with the little bit of alcohol you’d consumed and you considered calling an Uber to take you home, but the walk was short and well-lit, so you began to walk with your head down, hands shoved into your pockets.
The next thing you knew, you'd come face to face with Aki Hayakawa, who you knew to be a friend of Denji's. Neither of you must have been paying much attention because you very nearly collided. He took a step back and widened his eyes, his mouth open slightly. You gasped and involuntarily recoiled, your hand flying to your chest as your heart skipped a beat.
“Sorry,” you muttered, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.
He regarded you curiously, then looked up and over your head at the party house, where he’d been heading before you bumped into him. “Aren’t you that girl that’s friends with Denji’s girlfriend?” he asked.
You sighed and rolled your eyes, feeling embarrassed for some reason you didn’t quite understand. “That’s me!” you said, feigning cheerfulness, lifting your hands in front of you and wiggling your fingers, a cheesy grin on your face.
His lips curled into a little smile, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, taking a step forward. “So are you bored with this party already, or do you have somewhere else you gotta be?”
His question caught you off guard, and your head began to swim. While it was true that you’d seen him in passing only a handful of times, you’d never really paid much attention to Aki. He was older than Denji by at least a couple of years, and he lived in off-campus housing with a couple of other guys you’d never met. The way Denji talked, he was off-the-charts intelligent but lacked the drive to actually do anything with his abilities. He’d changed his major a few times and it was rumored that he was on the verge of flunking out, but somehow he was still hanging on by a thread.
“I um– I…” You hooked your thumb over your shoulder and shrugged. “It’s not really my scene.”
“Yeah, I get that. I’m just here to pick something up from a friend, then I’m out.”
You nodded, feeling your cheeks grow warm. Again with the embarrassment that seemed to come out of nowhere. "Cool, well, uh, I'll see ya!"
You offered him a tight-lipped smile and skirted around him on the sidewalk. Even as you stepped away, you could feel his eyes on you. Your heart fluttered a little and you walked a bit faster, breathing in the crisp autumn evening; the taste of it made you feel nostalgic for something unfamiliar and unexpected.
You had a feeling you’d see him again soon.
The furious buzzing of your phone on the nightstand woke you from a deep sleep the following morning. Blindly pawing around for it, you held it up to your face and squinted at the harsh blue light, finding that your friend had texted you a few dozen times somewhere between three and five in the morning.
>Where are you?! Denji nd i have benn looking for u everywhjere!!
>Seriousl this isnt fdsny
>Helllllloooooooooooooo
>Okim going home with Denji i’ll call u in thr mroning
>hhhheeeeeyyyyyyyy are tou ok
>fine. See if i ever take ou to another perty
There was also a text from a number you didn’t recognize. You sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
>Hope you got home safe. You should call me if you want to hang out somewhere quieter next time
Though you hadn’t had enough to drink to have a hangover, your mind was still foggy enough with sleep that it took you a few moments to figure out who might have sent the text.
Aki…
But how did he get your number? The only logical conclusion was that Denji had given it to him, but why? It wasn’t as if you and Denji were close. You scratched your head and yawned, then shot back a quick reply to confirm it was indeed Aki who had sent the text.
>Who is this?
Not ten seconds later, a text came through.
>Aki. I ran into Denji at the party
>He and his gf were looking for you
Sorry you got left alone so long
You smiled a little to yourself.
>I’m used to it, unfortunately
>Thx for checking on me
You stretched and wandered to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and scroll through your phone, laughing at all the pictures people had posted from the party. It seemed things had gotten pretty wild, so you were secretly glad that you’d decided to bow out early. There were a few of Denji and your friend wound around each other in a few compromising positions, though still fully clothed at the time the pictures were taken. Some were dark and blurry with only a few discernible faces in view. One picture in particular caught your attention though: Aki, standing off to the side by himself while people danced and socialized around him, his eyes focused on his phone. He seemed to be typing, though you couldn’t be absolutely sure. The rest of the picture was slightly out of focus, but you could read the concern in his face. It made you wonder if someone had captured the moment he sent that text to you to make sure you were alright, and for a moment, you felt a warmth in your chest. You didn’t know a lot about Aki, but you did know that he was often aloof and distant from most of his peers. He didn’t seem like the overly-sentimental type, so the fact that he’d paid enough attention to you was a kind of compliment. It made you wonder if he’d been watching you from a distance for a little while, taking an interest in your quiet little life as a student and a part-time library assistant.
Shaking your head to clear away the thoughts that seemed to cloud your reasoning, you poured some coffee into your favorite mug and settled on the couch with your newest book and some late morning sun to kick off a lazy Saturday of lounging around in cozy comfort.
Weeks flew by, and you didn’t see or hear from Aki again. In the midst of your coursework and your job, you really didn’t have much time to socialize anyway. Denji and your best friend were still going strong, though their relationship seemed a bit…manic. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something felt off in the way they interacted. Denji was like a golden retriever puppy– loyal and sweet and willing to do just about anything to make her smile or laugh. Your friend, however, seemed to be wallowing in stress and low self esteem. She needed constant reassurance that Denji loved her, that she was the most important thing in his world. Though she didn’t have a history of any kind of mental illness that you knew of, you��d studied enough in your psychology classes to recognize some signs that maybe she was struggling. She picked fights with him over trivial things, and you could sense that poor Denji was beginning to feel like he couldn’t do enough to make her happy.
As soon as they’d fight, though, she’d soon be sobbing in his arms, apologizing for being so dramatic; and of course, their make-up sex was loud and over-the-top. Sometimes she’d stay with him, but more often than not, you’d sleep with earbuds to drown out the sound when he stayed over at your apartment.
One evening, you opted to take a short walk around the block. It had been a particularly rough day of classes and you just needed a little bit of fresh air. On the way, you decided to stop for a cup of cheap, sugary cappuccino from the convenience store around the corner. The chime on the door jingled merrily as you entered, and you headed straight for the machine, pulling a foam cup out of the dispenser.
“Hey.”
Aki stood beside you in a warm coat and a plaid scarf folded around his neck, his hair tousled perfectly. His cheeks were pink as if he’d been out in the cold too, and his eyes seemed unusually bright under the fluorescent lighting.
“Hey!” you replied cheerfully while filling your cup. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
He watched you curiously, one hand toying idly with his scarf. “I’ve been around.” He paused, watching you put a lid on your cup and take a sip. “What about you?”
You sighed heavily, closing your eyes to emphasize your exhaustion. “Just school stuff. It’s almost the end of the semester, and I’m really loaded down. Definitely ready for a break.”
Aki nodded, seeming to sympathize. "When you're free, we should hang out."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Me and you, Denji and your friend. I don't know, something low-key. Maybe go to the movies or something." He walked with you to the cash register and bought a pack of spearmint gum, then told the cashier to charge him for your coffee. You looked up at him, brow raised, a protest on your tongue, but he shook his head and gave you that same small smile he wore the night you ran into him at the party. "Where are you headed now?"
"I was just going out for a walk. Speaking of Denji…" You trailed off, tracing a finger around the lid of your cup, watching tendrils of steam escape the little slot to drink from. "He's at my place right now. They uh…"
"Gotcha," Aki said with a quiet chuckle. "Is it alright if I walk with you?"
You nodded and he opened the door for you, the cold night air a balm for your warm cheeks. You inhaled deeply and nodded to your right, setting foot down the sidewalk with Aki at your side.
You couldn't be sure why he had taken a seemingly sudden interest in you, but you couldn't say you minded much. The conversation between you flowed easily; you found out he'd started out as a biology major but had just switched to history last year. He said he wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his degree, but thought that being a museum curator seemed interesting enough.
"Right now, I guess I'm just focused on having a good time, you know? I don't want to limit myself when there are so many good things out there I could experience."
You nodded along, though part of you didn't agree with what he was saying. But you listened anyway; you gave him what so many others hadn't– an unbiased ear, someone who would agree with him for the sake of agreement. What Aki craved more than freedom to choose his own destiny was someone who would support him unconditionally. Someone who would listen to his stories and musings and not try to change him. He was happy with being a drifter, a nobody. It had led him down paths that most people may have been too timid to explore and given him life experience beyond his years.
"What about you?" he asked after you'd gone quiet. "What do you dream about?"
"Happiness," you answered without hesitation.
"Aren't you happy now?"
"No. I mean, yes. I mean…well, not happy in the way I want to be." Words suddenly seemed terribly cumbersome, so you busied yourself with another sip of coffee and a glance upward at some snow-covered branches back-lit by the street lamp.
"So you don't know what you want."
"It's not that," you sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. "I just…haven't found what I want yet. But I'll know it when I find it."
"Hm. That's fair," he said, lighting a cigarette and exhaling into the night sky. He held it out to you with his brow raised. "Want a drag?"
"No, thanks. I don't smoke," you said.
"Good. It's bad for you."
"Then why do you do it?"
Aki shrugged and took another puff, blowing the smoke away from you, over his shoulder. "Feels good, I guess."
The traffic along the sidewalks began to thin after some time, but the snow began falling harder, dusting the concrete with a sheen of glittering white. You thought maybe Denji and your friend had quieted down by now, so you took a turn to head back to your apartment while Aki walked steadfastly at your side. You couldn't quite put your finger in it, but there was something comforting and familiar about his company. He made you feel important in ways that others had failed. He was intelligent and soft spoken, seeming to hold vast knowledge about a variety of topics, and though he seemed somewhat disenchanted with the world, he came to life in your presence.
"This is me," you announced as you rounded the block to the row of student housing and approached your doorstep. "Thanks for the company."
You were graced again with one of his rare smiles– small and a little bit uneasy, as if he wanted to stretch his lips wider but was afraid to. The snowfall had into large, fluffy flakes, one of which landed on your right eye. You giggled and reached up to wipe it away, but Aki was faster. His cool fingertips made contact with your cheek as his thumb brushed over your lashes, and you stared up at him with your mouth slightly agape.
"Let me know when you need a walking partner again," he said, dragging his fingertips across your cheek before pulling away. "The city is quieter at night. I don't like when there are too many people out."
You nodded and swallowed thickly; your chest felt light, your head a little dizzy. "Same. And yeah– I'd love to meet up again when you're free. I'm…I'm glad I ran into you tonight."
He secured his scarf and pushed his hands into his pockets, then traced a little pattern in the snow with the toe of his shoe. "Have a good night."
Lifting a hand to wave goodbye, you smiled warmly at him before retreating inside the lobby of your building, your heart hammering wildly against your ribcage.
Maybe it was because you’d spent time with him that night, but after your walk, you began looking for Aki everywhere you went– walking to class or riding public transport if it was too cold or raining. You’d catch a whiff of cigarette smoke and turn your head in hopes that you’d catch a glimpse of him. He hadn’t sent you any more text messages, which was fine– because why would he? You weren’t someone he needed to see or talk to on a regular basis. Really, you were no more than a couple of acquaintances with a mutual friend who just happened to take a nighttime walk together and share some deep conversation, and then he touched your cheek and your world turned upside down and–
Enough, you scolded yourself, rubbing your face to clear away the daydreams. It was a week before finals, and you’d procrastinated on not one, but two projects that needed your immediate attention or your GPA would be in the toilet.
So you threw yourself into your studies, focusing on getting everything done so you'd be able to sit back and relax with a sense of accomplishment when the semester ended. Your best friend left you alone, sometimes muttering about you being a buzzkill when she wanted to go out and you insisted on staying in. Either her class load was lighter than yours or she cared more about partying than her future, but you couldn't be bothered to think too much about it either way.
Upon leaving your last final before break, you heard a voice call to you as you slung your backpack over your shoulders and tied your scarf around your neck. You turned to find Aki walking briskly to catch up to you, mouth tilted into a little smile, cheeks cherry red from the cold winter air.
"It's been a minute," he said, stopping in front of you, focused intently on the way your eyes seemed to light up with happy surprise.
"Aki, hey! Yeah, I just finished my last final." You breathed a sigh of relief and a little laugh. "It's nice to be free for a little while."
"What are you doing right now?" he asked, a note of hope in his voice.
"I was just going home, honestly. Not too sure I have the mental capacity for anything beyond sitting on the couch."
Aki nodded. "Fair enough. Can I walk you home?"
"Sure," you said. “Are you done with finals, too?”
“Something like that,” he replied with a little chuckle.
You raised a brow and grinned. “Care to explain?”
“I mean, I’m done, but I’ve got a final project due tomorrow that I need to work on. I’ve been a little distracted though.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah…”
You didn’t pry, but when you felt the soft wool of his gloved hand wrap around your own, you had a pretty good idea about what it was that had made him lose focus on his studies. You gasped softly and he gave you a reassuring squeeze. He turned to you and smiled again, his eyes a comforting honeyed brown against the gray and white winter that surrounded you as you walked.
“I’m not usually so forward,” he began, slowing his pace as he considered his words, “but I really want to see you more. I wonder if you’d like to go out with me sometime.”
You nodded, hoping you didn’t appear too eager. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”
“Great! Uh..what are you doing tonight?”
“I thought you had a project to work on,” you said with a smile.
“Yeah, uh…maybe you could help me with that.” He squeezed your hand again and you laughed, a plume of white punctuating your amusement in the cold air.
“Maybe I could. What’s your final project supposed to be about?”
He tilted his head as if to consider, pulling the bottom corner of his lip under his front teeth. “Food. And how it’s best consumed in the company of someone you admire.”
You laughed again and watched his face light up. “Sounds like you really do need me after all.”
Oh, you have no idea, he thought to himself, watching the way your cheeks seemed to flush a little darker and your eyes sparkled. “Pick you up at seven?”
You nodded cheerfully. “It’s a date!”
“A date,” he repeated, more to himself than to you.
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sev-on-kamino · 10 months
Note
Okay! You asked and I'm here to deliver. this is for In Pieces, when Cody first met the pretty little medic, how did he flirt with her? AND how did Rex react to his buddy horning in on his favorite girl? I need to know!!
Much like ‘Absence//Fonder’, I can discuss the ins and outs of ‘In Pieces’ for days 🤩 This sets everything in motion, and I’m so happy to share!!!
Suggested listening: “Oxytocin” by Billie Eilish
Warnings: none, it’s safely flirty, unless sparring with Jesse needs a warning 🤣
Word count: 1122
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“Do they know I’m coming?” Cody asked, as he and Rex strolled through the barracks.
“No, I thought it would be more fun if we caught them off guard,” Rex replied with a mischievous little grin.
“Maybe I should come back in the morning to see how they measure up after a night at 79’s.”
“Dogma and Hardcase would still be in perfect form,” Rex said proudly. “Come on, they’ll be in the training room.”
“Commander Cody, Captain Rex,” Kix said, saluting as the COs approached.
“Good to see you, Kix. What have we here?” Cody asked.
“A little hand to hand training,” the medic replied.
“Is that your new nat born, Rex?” Cody’s eyes had landed on you, as you danced out of Jesse’s reach with a bright laugh.
“That’s her.” Rex was beaming at you.
“Does she spar with your troopers on a regular basis?”
“If they’re training, she’s training,” Rex said with pride.
“And she’s making Jesse work for it today,” Kix laughed. “Watch your right side, mesh’la!”
“Your luck’s about to run out,” Jesse said with a smirk, as the two of you circled each other.
“Oh, I’m just getting started,” you said, changing directions.
Cody couldn’t take his eyes off of you, as you and Jesse flowed around each other. It was clear this was a well-practiced dance for the two of you. Blocking each other’s strikes. Giving and gaining ground. Constantly in motion, Jesse occasionally giving instructions as you went. Your laughter ringing out when you’d land a hit. Your laugh was infectious, and Cody couldn’t help but smile.
Jesse lunged towards your right. Hand darting out to grab your wrist. You dodged him, letting out a short laugh, only to feel his vice-like grip on your left wrist instead.
“Gotcha,” he said, triumphant as he twisted your arm behind your back, and forced you to your knees.
You struggled against his hold, looking for any weaknesses, and growling in frustration when you couldn’t find one.
“Now what do you say?” He asked.
“I yield,” you deadpanned.
“Good girl!” He replied, hoisting you back to your feet, and guiding you to the edge of the mat. “You’re improving. Kept me at bay for five whole minutes.”
“Five? You’re getting soft,” you replied, beaming with pride at your new record, as you playfully poked Jesse’s abs.
“Soft?! I’m putting you on your ass next time.”
“Five minutes, huh?” Rex said as he and Cody approached. You and Jesse saluted and moved to stand at rest. “At ease. Carry on, Jesse.”
Jesse nodded before adding, “Looks like it’s Kix’s turn to get spanked, so you won’t be the only one today.”
“Famous. Last. Words,” Kix said, rolling his shoulders as he moved past you.
“I wanted you to meet Marshal Commander Cody ahead of our next joint mission,” Rex said.
“Oh,” you said, as Cody locked eyes with you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” Cody said with a smile. “You looked good out there.”
“Thank you, sir. Jesse and Fives are excellent teachers,” you replied, as you clasped your hands behind your back.
Rex had been looking forward to showing you off, but there was a strange feeling rolling over him in sharp little waves. The mischievous sparkle in your eye was ever present, but there was something else riding just beneath it. Something in the curve of your lips, and the way you were completely focused on Cody.
“Rex says you’re quite the asset to the 501st,” Cody said, lifting his chin slightly, one eyebrow lifting.
“Well, you can’t believe everything you hear, you should come see for yourself,” you replied lowering your chin, and looking up at him through your lashes.
“Oh, I’m sure your bedside manner leaves nothing to be desired.”
“I haven’t had any complaints so far.”
Rex looked between the two of you, and realized the sharp sting was jealousy. He’d seen Cody flirt enough to know when he was making a move, and it was clear you were in his sights.
And while he’d never seen you flirting in earnest it was unmistakable. You were known to get inappropriate with Jesse and Fives, but it was all waggling eyebrows and innuendo. This was different. Your hip was cocked to one side, your voice was softer, more intimate, and you’d reached out to brush your fingers over Cody’s forearm.
“Well, we still have rounds to make,” Rex said clearing his throat.
“We just got here, Rex,” Cody said, raising an eyebrow.
“I trust that Jesse has things in order here. The others are in the range, yes?”
“Yes, sir, and we’ll swap after lunch,” you said, giving Rex your full attention. Turning back to Cody you added, “I handle a blaster pretty well too, if you want to swing back by the range this afternoon.”
“Oh, looking to show off for your boss? Or just angling for a promotion?”
“Just making sure you know your brothers are in capable hands.”
“Rex has assured me they are,” Cody said, his voice warm and inviting.
“We really do need to get going,” Rex said more firmly. “And it looks like Tup is waiting on you.”
You turned to look and sure enough, Tup was waiting near the edge of the mat, looking at you expectantly.
“Oh! Enjoy your rounds, Commander, Captain,” you said saluting them before jogging over to Tup.
Cody watched you go, enjoying how your training gear hugged your body.
“What was that, vod?” Rex asked once they were back in the hallway.
“You didn’t mention how pretty she is,” Cody said, not bothering to pretend.
“It’s not relevant to her ability to do her job.”
“I’m sure it’s relevant to your troopers,” Cody said with a laugh. “Is she seeing any of them?”
“No, they’re all close though,” Rex said.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I am.” And he was. Fives and Jesse loved to mess around, but they were serious about you. Within a month of your arrival, they’d made it crystal clear that they would personally toss any trooper who played games with your heart directly out of an airlock.
They needn’t have bothered though, much to Rex’s pleasure, as you did a fine job of politely sidestepping any and all romantic advances.
Cody was another story. He wasn’t some shy trooper attempting pick up lines during a check up. This was a problem. In his head, Rex knew that he had no claim over you, but his heart said otherwise.
“Good to know,” Cody said, looking pleased as they continued on to the range.
“Yeah,” Rex replied, wondering if his plan to keep his feelings for you to himself was the best one.
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sentientgolfball · 4 months
Text
Ghoulette Appreciation: Week 1
I kicked the writer's block and was able to write the first prompt for @jesusbutbetterrr ghoulette months :3 I did a mix of start of something new and girl's night in
All the prompts I do are gonna be nothing but Mistshine! I'm taking this as an excuse to write for my favorite ghoulette pairing, but of course all of them will be making appearances :3
Word Count: 1937
Tags: ghoulette pile, drunk/high sex, Mist is intersex with a tentacle, transfem Sunshine
Summary: The band would be heading out on tour soon and the girls have their last Ghoulette Night before they're separated for months
Mist was one to usually keep to herself. They were quiet, reserved, preferring the calm silence over chaotic company. Some thought it was because she was cold, emotionless, and a bit of a prude. Others thought it was because she was too dangerous for even the other ghouls to be around them. The venomous barbs sheathed in their wrists were proof enough. 
That was the problem with humans, Mist thought, they never see the full picture. While some of their whispers had merit, they would never understand why. Mist was a deep sea water ghoul. Unlike your average ghoul of any variety really, the deep sea beasts were solitary in nature. The only time they’d see another of their kind that wasn’t immediate kin would be during the mating seasons. The only packs that existed were made up entirely of family, and even then those packs were minuscule. It was rare for deep-sea ghouls to have more than two kits. 
So yes, Mist could be described as cold and reserved, but it didn’t reflect all of her. Living on the surface taught her how nice it is to have packmates. To know that any of them would drop everything for her if she needed, and she’d do the same. Of course, as much as she cherishes each and every ghoul, that doesn’t change her basic nature. She still enjoys her alone time, needs it. They spend so much of their free time alone that they’re always a little surprised when ghouls come looking. 
It’s not often that they find themselves sitting on a lumpy bean bag in Cirrus and Cumulus’ room surrounded by the other ghoulettes and copious amounts of wine, weed, and self-care products. Mist would be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy these rare nights of pure indulgence. They’d let Cumulus and the newly summoned Aurora use her for makeup practice, they’d let them put whatever cream or lotion on her because it made them happy. Mist would let Cirrus keep her glass full of the wine she had Swiss steal from Terzo’s personal collection. They’d let Sunshine feed her a joint until she got bold enough to sit in their lap and shotgun. 
Mist would do the same for all of them. She’d bring the best food to complement the wine. She’d brush their hair and work knots out of their muscles with her rough hands. She’d give exactly as much as she’d take. 
Tonight’s Ghoulette Night was bigger than any they’d had recently. It was the last before Cirrus, Cumulus, and Aurora would be off on tour. The wine was the sweetest Swiss could get his claws on. The weed was harvested directly from Mountain’s personal store. Mist had even broken into the Ministry cellars to get their hands on the best meats and cheeses for the ghoulettes to snack on. It was a necessity, she had decided. 
Now they all sit in Cirrus’ nest, more than a little buzzed and lazily touching each other. 
“Fuck I’m gonna miss this” Sunshine sighs, resting her head on Mist’s shoulder. 
“Me too” Aurora giggles when Cumulus kisses behind her ear. 
“We can always make a shitty nest and drink shitty wine in the hotels” Cirrus chirps.
“No way! You guys aren’t allowed to do it without us!” Sunny sticks her tongue out and clings closer to Mist. 
Mist just hums and squeezes her waist. 
“Oh we’re still definitely drinking” Lus purrs “but it won’t be the same without everyone.” 
“I don’t wanna think about that. Don’t wanna think.” 
Sunny suddenly jolts from where she had been lounging against Mist. She crawls into her lap and Mist knows she’s grown impatient. It’s an unholy miracle it took this long for her to start this. Usually, when they’ve snatched Mountain’s weed they’re all wrapped around each other before a coherent conversation can be held. 
“Wow, Sunny I think that’s a new record for you” Cirrus laughs but starts to shift Aurora onto her lap. 
“Took you long enough” Cumulus slots herself behind Aurora, caging her in. 
Mist had to agree. They had been painfully waiting for Sunshine to make her move. It always started like this. They’d all relax and let the alcohol and smoke turn time to honey until one of them couldn’t take the anticipation anymore. It was usually Sunny, save for Aurora’s first Ghoulette Night. 
Mist loved the way Sunny would always cling to her first. No matter what they did to her, Sunny would always come back for more. Mist would be lying if she said it wasn’t addictive. With Sunny finally in their lap, they made their move. 
“This is for making me wait” she whispers low before sinking their fangs into the side of her neck. 
Sunny whines high-pitched, twitching her hips forward, dragging her cock against them. Mist squeezes her hips harder, feeling their tentacle start to poke out of its sheath. 
“‘M sorry” she squirms.
“No, you’re not” Mist tears Sunny’s crop top off. 
She just giggles and shrugs. 
On the other side of the nest, Cirrus is lying flat on her back as Aurora scoots closer and closer to her face. Cumulus has one hand under her skirt and another in Cirrus’ underwear. 
“Don’t look at them” Mist grabs her jaws and forces her attention “You only know me.”
They crash their lips together in an almost possessive manner. It's filthy instantly with tongue and fang licking and clacking together. Mist yanks at the short hairs around the nape of her neck pulling breathy little gasps from her. She slides her hands under the hem of Mist’s shorts, slowly starting to pull them down. 
“Lords below it has a mind of its own” Sunny giggles feeling their tentacle writhe against her fingertips. 
“You say that every time” Mist deadpans. 
“Whaaaat I think it’s hot how excited—“ 
She’s cut off by Mist tweaking both of her nipples. They drag the flat of their tongue over the scars under Sunny’s breasts before replacing a finger with her mouth. She sucks and nips at her tits until they’re decorated with purple and blue marks as deep as Mist’s eyes. Until she can feel Sunny’s cock kicking in her pants. 
Her eyes briefly flick when Aurora moans. Cirrus’ face is covered by the fabric of her skirt and her thighs. Aurora shakes, grinding down on her face. Cumulus is laying on her stomach, face buried in Cirrus. 
Mist's attention is drawn back when she feels warm fingers teasing her cunt. Sunny is grinning down where she has her hand shoved into her shorts, tentacle wrapping around her wrist to pull her closer. 
“I think it’s unfair you get to look at them but I don’t” she pouts, but slowly slides a finger inside of them. 
Mist grabs her wrist, yanking her hand away. They shove their shorts down enough to let their tentacle fully free before popping the button on Sunny’s pants and wiggling her out of them. She seats Sunny back on her lap, letting the tentacle probe curiously at her ass. 
“You’re right. It is unfair” she wraps a hand around Sunny’s cock right as the tip wiggles in “but I want all of you.” 
Sunshine squirms and whines as the tentacle slowly slides into her, wet and sticky with Mist’s slick. They squeeze the base of her cock and Sunny yelps. Mist does it again and again and again, pulling those pretty little sounds from her. 
They latch onto her neck, trailing bruising kisses up her throat. She licks into Sunny’s mouth tasting her sweet orange and vanilla flavor. Sunshine pants into her mouth as the tentacle writhes within her. Mist starts to jack her off, pressing a cruel finger to the underside of her head every time their fist passes over. 
Maybe it’s the wine. Maybe it’s the weed. Maybe it’s the noises of Cirrus, Cumulus, and Aurora. Maybe it’s just Mist, but Sunshine can already feel her balls drawing up as her cock spits pre.
Mist bites her bottom lip and trails wet opened mouth kisses up to her ear. They drag their tongue over the shell before biting the lobe. 
“Cum for me”  they whisper low. 
Sunny does. Hard. Everything is intense and floaty as she spills over Mist’s hand. Tears prick the corners of her eyes from the tentacle still moving inside her ass. Mist snickers, kissing across her collarbones. 
“Mist can we play? Pretty please?” 
They slowly unlatch from Sunshine and look down. Aurora, now completely naked, has crawled over to them. Her eyes are big, pleading, and a little red. Something inside Mist burns. She doesn’t understand why, it’s not like she dislikes Aurora. Quite the opposite actually, she thinks her bold nature is quite charming. But when Sunshine wiggles off of them at the call of Cirrus and Cumulus, the burn only intensifies. They make a mental note of this, something to examine later, before they push Aurora onto her back and climb between her legs. 
The tentacle immediately starts slipping into her cunt and Aurora giggles at the sensation.
“You didn’t let me have this last time.” 
Mist tears her gaze away from where Sunny is choking on Cumulus’ strap. 
“You were new. I didn’t want to frighten you.” 
“Please” she snorts, “it takes a lot to get me to crack.” 
Mist tilts their head with an eyebrow raised. 
“C’mon Mist I’ve heard the others talk. Give it to me.” 
“Hm. Not here. Not now.” 
“Why not?” She huffs. 
Mist leans forward, wrapping a hand around Aurora’s throat, and squeezes hard enough to make her gasp. 
“Because” they whisper “if I'm going to, I want you tied to my bed so I can break you.” 
Aurora’s eyes roll to the back of her head and she clenches hard around the tentacle. 
Mist tries to put all their focus on fucking Aurora, giving her a little something to think about as the tour starts up, but everything is clouded by the noises Sunny is making only a few feet away. Every gasp, whine, keen has a flash of heat coursing through her body. She doesn’t understand why though. They’ve been having these nights since the two air ghoulettes were summoned and not once has this happened before. 
She decides it’s the effects of Mountain’s weed, she was always a lightweight when it came to anything drugs. They shake it off and drop a hand to Aurora’s clit, circling it as they squeeze her neck. 
Aurora cums with Mist’s name on her tongue. They coax the tentacle out of her and help her sit up. She props her up, letting her lean against her as she snatches a nearby bottle of wine and offers her some. The two cuddle and pass the bottle back and forth as they watch Cirrus and Cumulus milk every last drop out of Sunshine’s cock. 
“You’re growling,” Aurora says sleepily. 
Mist hadn’t even realized. She stops herself immediately with a cough and swig. Sunshine cries out both of the air ghoulettes names and they nearly choke on the wine. That fire ignites in her belly again and now that she’s not buried to the hilt in Aurora she can place a name to that feeling. 
Jealousy. Possession. 
She wanted to be the one to get Sunny to cry like that. 
She didn’t want to hear another name roll out of her mouth. 
She was confused. Ghouls share everything, even the solitary deep-sea ghouls were strangers to monogamy. So why was Mist feeling this way watching Sunny be taken apart by someone who wasn’t her? 
This is new.
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indouloureux · 2 years
Note
I dont know if this would be too specific of a request so please ignore if it is but would you be able to do joe or eddie comforting reader after they end a really toxic friendship?
thank you for requesting! ❤️
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eddie sets the glass of water in front of you, the cold drops falling onto the table, and you mentally tell him to put on a coaster but you don't find it in yourself to actually say it as you hear him sigh, the couch dipping from his heavy drop beside you.
"so what's up?" his voice is questioning, tilts into the curious direction. your finger runs through the back of your earlobe to push nothing away. eddie's hand stalls on your shoulder for an awaiting comfort.
"remember, uh, carol?" you clear your throat. "the one that used to hang out with steve harrington? she and her boyfriend slut shamed nancy wheeler and spray painted that- thing- remember?"
"yeah?" eddie removes his hovering hand, lets it stay still on his lap. "yeah, um. i do. i used to go to class with her until she graduated last year."
you blink rapidly. "yes! well, um, we're not friends anymore."
he leans back, palms swiping across his knees as he processes the information he doesn't even need but kind of wants to hear. "what happened?"
"remember when i drove you to your band practice last week?" he nods. "well- she wasn't really fond of you. i don't even know why she's still here in hawkins but, she told the others and they said that i shouldn't even be hanging out with you."
"what- what did you say?"
"that they don't get to tell me who i get to hang out with," you scratch your eyebrow. "so, yeah, i guess i got nancy wheeler-ed."
eddie's eyes widened. "they spray painted on the marquee again?"
"yeah. except this time i'm not a slut. so i guess that's a plus point." you laugh sardonically. "anyway i- i don't even know why i came to you. i just, i need to talk about it, i guess? because i think i made a mistake..."
"what, breaking up with them?" he shifts closer to you. "you didn't make a mistake. that actually was a pretty fucking wise decision that you did. it's far from a mistake."
you take the glass of water from the table, a wet ring left behind as you take a sip. "when i started high school, eddie, i didn't really have any friends," you trace the lips of the glass. "they took me in and- they became my 'friends'. they made me feel like i was known, or i was seen because i was with them. but the thing is, they tried changing me. i was happy being seen as who i was but they wanted me to be like them."
eddie furrows his eyebrows, leans closer to listen carefully at each word. "and, i don't know? i guess i kind of feel like i used them just so i would feel important at least once in my life before all of this is over. but they never really cared, you know? they only ever really cared about themselves. and they got mad that i didn't want to be this- this jackass of a daddy's girl. and i did want them to be my friends, hoping maybe they'd change—"
"but they didn't," he takes the glass from you and sets it on the table. "so you feel guilty for using them? but, they're assholes. they were using you, too. they wanted to make their weird bitch pack even bigger — sorry i called them a bitch."
"it's okay," you chuckle. "they- they are a bitch. i guess maybe the reason why i feel like i made a mistake is because i don't have any more friends. they were the only ones i ever really had."
eddie stays silent for a bit. and with you not looking in his direction, you hear the couch squeak and see him kneel in front of you, hands joint together in the space between his knees, looking up at you through his small eyelashes.
"i can be your friend," he shrugs. "it has it's cons though. like, you're no longer popular but you're a freak," he lifts one finger, then another with his other hand tapping on them. "you'll probably get shit on by them a lot. you'll have to sit lunch with us. and your reputation is forever damaged."
you grin. "i think i can manage that."
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reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3
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onlyfezco · 2 years
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Dance Lesson - Fezco
Summary: It’s easy to get over someone when you’re not around them all the time. But what happens when your smoke session with Fez turns into prom prep for him and Lexi.
Fezco x Reader
Fluff then angst (and I’m not sorry about it)
Word Count: 2,548
Author’s Note: I was listening to Can I Have This Dance from HSM3 and this idea popped in my head but I wanted something with angst. Please note that I LOVE Lexi but I needed something angsty. Also, assume Fez and reader are the same age but you’re in college.
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East Highland was toxic. So when you moved away a year ago, you were actually pretty happy about it. Of course, there were things you missed like your family and the few friends you had. But overall, the move was for the best. And besides, you only lived about three hours away now. 
Currently, you were spending your spring break back in town. You loved your family, but they were stressing you out at the moment which led to you making an impromptu visit to everyone’s favorite local drug dealer Fezco. Fez was more than a drug dealer to you though, he was also a friend. A friend you used to have a crush on. Used to being the key words there. 
Fez was familiar. Being around him felt like home. From the old worn patterned couches to the permeant smell of weed and cotton fresh scent of Febreze, you always felt comfortable at the O’Neil home. 
The two of you kept up with each other pretty frequently. And on the few holidays were your parents made the trek back home, you usually saw Fez. You had even met his girlfriend Lexi on the last visit. You were a bit shocked when you first met the brunette. She didn’t seem like the type to hang around a drug dealer. You knew she met him through Rue, who was an avid customer of Fez, so you understood how they met. But Lexi was just so... Lexi. You didn’t hate the girl at all, but at first glance, you would picture her as Fez’s girlfriend.
Fez was sitting next to you on the couch passing a joint between the two of you. He was catching you up on what was going on in his life. Prom was around the corner and he was taking Lexi. He already had a suit ready to go, but he was worried about how the actual dance part would turn out.
“You dropped out before we started having dances,” you point out.
“Yeah, I know. Thanks for stating the obvious.”
You throw your hands up in defense. “Hey, I’m just sayin’.”
Fez sighs and you can see the discomfort on his face. You already went through the awkward slow dance with the person you liked back in high school. That felt like forever ago now. Fez never got to experience that. You sat your blunt down in the ashtray on the coffee table and stood up.
“Alright, come on. Get up.”
Fez was practically sinking into the couch cushions as he looked up at you. “Why?”
“I’m gonna show you how to slow dance.” You pulled your phone out of your back pocked and opened YouTube to find a good slow song to practice to. 
“Ain’t it just swaying back and forth,” Fez asked, but he got up anyway.
“For the most part, yeah, but you don’t want it to be weird your first time. You gotta know where to put your hands and stuff.” You picked a video and Youtube started a commercial. You placed your phone on the coffee table, then grabbed Fez’s hand to move him to an area with a little more space.
A slow R&B ballad started playing through your phone’s speakers. It was one of your favorites, but maybe you shouldn’t have played a song you were so emotionally tied to. 
“Okay,” you said dropping his hand turning to stand directly in front of him. “You’re the guy, so lead. Show me where you’d put your hands.”
“It’s the twenty-first century, Y/N, women can lead,” Fez said, being a smart-ass.
You rolled your eyes. “Are you going to tell Lexi that when she wants to dance?” Fezco was silent. “That’s what I thought. Now show me.”
Fez hesitated for a second before he placed one hand on your waist, then grabbed your hand with the other. His hand wasn’t too low or too high on your waist. Fez always being the respectful man that Marie taught him to be. “Okay good,” you said nodding, then you placed your free hand on his shoulder. 
“This is where you pull me closer, Fez,” you said chuckling. “You don’t have to leave room for someone else to join us.”
“Oh,” Fez said, then took a small step closer to you while pulling you towards his body. 
“Okay, now this is where we just sway back and forth,” you said repeating his words from earlier making him chuckle. 
“Aight, ma,” Fez said as he began to rock from side to side. The song’s melody danced around the room as you two swayed. The verses getting a little too personal for you.
“If you’re feeling fancy, you could spin her and pull her in closer.”
Fez did as you said, letting go of your waist as he twirl you away from him. Your smile grew while your hair fanned out around you. Fezco did as directed spinning you back to him closer this time, your chest pressing against his as your hand returned to his shoulder and his to your waist. 
“You catch on fast.”
“I’ve got a good teacher,” Fez replied. And it was true. Practicing with you in the comfort of his living room would make the dance with Lexi go a lot smoother.
You just smiled at his words. It was nice slow dancing with Fez. The last time you slow danced with a guy was senior prom and he wasn’t much of a date anyway. You had a good time, but you had always envisioned your senior prom being with someone you actually cared about. You hadn’t even talked to the guy since graduation. 
“Um, you may want to just wrap both of your hands around her waist at some point. Just tryin’ to show you more than one way to dance,” you rushed out the last part, so it wouldn’t seem like you were trying to get closer to him. “If you want,” you began to say, but Fez was already doing what you said. He brought your hand up to his shoulder and dropped it, then placed his now empty hand on your waist. Wow he’s good at this, you thought to yourself. Lexi was a lucky girl. 
Your mind began to wonder. A thousand what ifs and maybes playing in your head. Suddenly, it felt weird to have your face so close to your friend’s, so you rested your head on his shoulder. The action happened naturally, you didn’t even think twice about it. 
Fezco tried to ignore the pounding of his heart against his ribs as his nostrils filled with the smell of your conditioner. He had never been this close to you before. But it was just a dance, he reminded himself. He was with Lexi. He was doing this for Lexi. 
The song began to fade out, making you lift your head from Fez’s shoulder. “Well, I think you got it down,” you said softly.
“Yeah,” Fez drawled out. His eyes flickered from your eyes down to your lips. You probably should have pulled away and stopped dancing. You swallowed watching his eyelashes flutter. “Thanks.”
“Uh, it’s no problem.” Heat rose to your cheeks as your heart began to beat double time. Your belly swelled with nerves, the thought of Lexi and prom long gone from your mind. Fez’s tongue flicked out over his top lip for a second. Your head reacting quicker than your mind could talk you out of. The two of you leaned in slowly, your eyelids closing the closer you got. 
“ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A NEW CAR WITH 0% INTREST DOWN?”
The two of you dropped your hands from around each other, practically jumping out of your skin. The car advertisement blasting from your phone sounded much louder than the romantic song that played before it, ruining the moment. 
You rushed over to your phone to close the app. Fez stood still in his spot at a lost for words. Sliding your phone into your back pocket, you glanced at Fez. The room that felt so intimate and safe just a moment ago, was now full of uncomfortable guilt and awkwardness. 
You shook your head trying to brush off the embarrassed feeling taking over your body. You huffed out an awkward laugh before you spoke. “You did good, Fez. Uh, Lexi’s gonna love dancing with you.”
At the sound of his girlfriend's name, Fez finally looked at you. Although nothing actually happened, it was about to and he felt incredibly guilty. And... confused. What just happened between the two of you? You were friends. That’s it. So why did he want to kiss you?
“I- I’m gonna head out.” You nodded then looked up, finally making eye contact with him. The look in his eyes made your heart ache. You didn’t mean for this to happen. Lexi was a sweet girl and Fez was happy. This just complicated things.
“You ain’t gotta do that, ma.”
You laughed at how awkward the situation was becoming. “Yeah, I really think I do, Fez.”
“All we did was dance. At least stay and finish your blunt.” Fez felt like if you left, that meant something happened between the two of you, and then he’d have to feel bad about it.
“That’s not a good idea.”
“What? Why?”
“Fez,” you turned around and shouted. “I can’t stay here. This is... wrong. I know nothing happened, but I wanted it to, and that’s a problem. I thought those feelings were gone, but obviously they’re not,” you said speaking faster the longer you were talking. That last part should have been internal dialogue but it slipped out in your moment of panic.
“What feelings,” Fez questioned, his eyebrows scrunching up. He was unaware that you had any feelings that went beyond friendship, but obviously he was wrong.
You stared at your friend doe eyed. Your words lost in your throat.
Fez stepped closer to you. “Y/N, what feelings?” Fez realized he probably shouldn’t have asked. He had no right too. He was in a relationship and obviously you didn’t want to talk about it.
You hesitated but it was too late to hold back now. “The ones where I wanted to be more than friends up until I moved,” you admitted hardly above a whisper. “I think... I think they went away just because I wasn’t around you as much.”
Your eyes began to gloss over with tears as you stared at Fezco. He was slack-jawed. His lack of words caused you to have word vomit.
“Honestly, I don’t know when they started. And I never wanted to say anything cause I didn’t know if you would feel the same and make it awkward between us. Which is what I’m doing right now... oh my God. I’m so stupid. I’m sorry,” you quickly blurted out, practically breathless now. You turned to head for the door but Fez’s hand wrapped around your arm stopped you.
“You’re not stupid,” he said to you in a voice that was so soft it made your tear filled eyes finally let loose. 
“Fez...,” you mumbled shaking your head, refusing to accept his words or look at him.
“You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry about.” Fez’s hand was still wrapped around your arm, his thumb now moving back and forth in a comforting motion.
You sighed shaking your head again. “You’re in a relationship. She’s literally the sweetest person alive. And I’m standing here, telling her boyfriend about how I had feelings for him. I’m a horrible person,” you explained, tears falling down your face like Sunday morning rain now.
Fez grabbed your other arm to make you look at him. “Hey, hey. You ain’t a horrible person. It don’t matter how we used to feel. We just got caught up. But nothing happened. We can just forget it and move on.”
You tried to take in Fezco’s words. You weren’t a horrible person. Anyone would have fallen for Fez. It didn’t matter how either of you used to feel. Wait. How we felt? Your eyes crinkled as you eyed Fez. “What do you mean how we used to feel?”
“Uhh.” Fez dropped his hands from your arms. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other avoiding your curious eyes. Was he nervous? “Nothin’. It don’t matter.”
You huffed. “It does matter, Fezco.”
“It don’t,” he said in a louder tone than before. It was practically yelling for the normally mellow guy. 
“It doesn’t because you have a girlfriend. But at this point you might as well come out and say it,” you said as you wiped away the tears on your face. Now you were frustrated. Mostly with yourself for letting it get this far when all you wanted to do was show him how to slow dance. By no means were you weren’t trying to break Fez and Lexi up. But you just wanted to put everything out there, so you could leave and be done. 
“Fine. Yeah, I liked you too. But that was before Lex, and before you moved.”
You nodded your head slowly, digesting his words. He liked you this whole time. But now you lived in a whole other town and he was taken. Perfect timing. You started to laugh at the situation which confused Fez.
“What’s so funny?”
“This,” you said pointing your finger between the two of you. “Of course the guy I wanted more than anything liked me back, but neither of us said anything. Just my luck.”
“Well I’m glad one of us thinks it’s funny,” Fez said, then he plopped down on the couch exhausted with all this honesty. 
“I gotta find the humor in. Cause if I don’t, I’ll start balling when I tell you goodbye.”
Fez’s head shot up and looked in your direction. “What you sayin’ goodbye fo’?”
“I have to leave you alone. For me and for you. These feelings aren’t going anywhere, so why hurt myself with trying to just be friends. And you’re happy and in love. I already overstepped by saying how I felt and asking you how you did. I don’t want to make things worse or more awkward by attempting to keep this friendship.”
“So that’s it,” Fez questioned eyeing you carefully. “We’re not friends anymore?”
“You want to explain to your girlfriend how your female friend slow danced with you, almost kissed you, then admitted she had feelings for you? And then add on that you admitted that you used to have feelings for her as well?” 
Fezco sighed, running his hands over his head, dropping eye contact with you.
“Yeah, didn’t think so.” You grabbed your purse from the kitchen table then started to make your way to the front door. You turned to look at Fez one last time. He was leaned over, his hands on his head and his elbows on his knees. “I don’t want to stop being friends with you, but it’s for the best.” 
Fez picked his head up to see you turn and walk to the door. You turned the lock and took the chain off the hook. Your hand hesitated on the knob for just a second before you said, “Goodbye, Fezco.” Then you opened the door and left.
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Destiné à Être: A Remus Lupin Story
Chapter 10: Unavoidable 
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(Warnings: Smoking, drinking, language, sexual themes. 18+ only)
Word Count: 4.8K
"That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt" -John Green
"I reckon you've all seen this?", Moody tosses the Daily Prophet onto the kitchen table. The front page features a mugshot and article of Sturgis Podmore, detailing his arrest after trespassing in the Ministry. It happened a week prior, the night after Remus and Brigitte shared the kiss.
"Someone put him under the Imperius curse. He was on guard with strict orders to not go in. None of you go in the Department of Mysteries alone". Moody's Magic eye swivels in his head.
"So, what exactly is the prophecy he's guarding?", Brigitte asks hoping to get more insight into what the weapon is that Voldemort seeks.
"Nothing that concerns you", Moody deadpans. Remus pats Brigitte's shoulder when she slumps in the chair.
"What'll happen to Podmore?", Hestia Jones asks.
"He's got six months in Azkaban. There's nothing we can do", Kingsley says grimly. Sirius shifts uncomfortably in his seat from the mention of the prison. Brigitte reaches under the table for Fleur's hand, who is present for her first Order meeting.
"He knows the risks ... We'll need his assignments covered. Lupin and Moreau– Gus. You two will take his overnight shifts at the Ministry. Brigitte and Miss Delacour will fill his place during the day. Weasley is going to have to start sharing you during the day", Moody orders, making Bill blush.
"Snape? Heard anything from their side regarding Podmore?", Moody asks.
"Malfoy executed the Imperius curse to get him into the Department of Mysteries. However, their plan was obviously thwarted. The Dark Lord will deliberate his plan of attack before another attempt. The prophecy is his top priority".
"CONSTANT VIGILANCE".
Kingsley requests the Advanced Guard stay behind to discuss more about this desired mystery weapon. Tonks, Fleur, and Brigitte find refuge in her bedroom. Fleur makes herself comfortable on Brigitte's pillows, curling her fingers around an unlit cigarette.
"A little help, sissy?". Brigitte eyes the tip of the rolled paper to ignite it.
"I told Remus I need to practice my magic. This is not what I meant", she giggles, taking out a joint from her underwear drawer.
"You simply need to adjust it some. You've never used it to defend yourself, not against such dangerous people", Fleur says, puffing away. Brigitte falls belly-first into her bed and takes a long drag.  
She hands it to Tonks who graciously accepts. "Same goes for me. Moody says I need to work on not being so clumsy, or I'll never get by disguising as other people". She inhales the stimulant and leans back on Brigittte's armoire.
"If it wasn't a challenge, everyone could do it; and if it wasn't a risk, everyone would do it. That's what I told myself everyday after I was picked for the tournament", Fleur says confidently.
"You were a total badass in that, by the way, and flawless in every picture they printed", Tonks admires.
"Not all of us are blessed with such genetics", Brigitte chirps before taking another puff of marijuana. She stares at the joint, making it float to Fleur.
"It was pretty obvious in that meeting that Mr Bill Weasley would like a slice of those genetics". Tonks snickers, taking the joint from the flustered French girl, "and girl to girl, Bill is definite boyfriend material. Molly raised him right. I was school friends with his brother Charlie".
"I wish I could say the same about Gus, Tonks. My Maman tried her best. Three out of four successes isn't bad though". Brigitte smiles mischievously.
"Oh, Brigitte stop! Gus is a different man since moving here. He was in his final year when I began Beauxbâtons. He was what you call ... nerd?", Fleur quips. Brigitte scoffs and nods her head dramatically.
"Nerd is an understatement ... we weren't the biggest friend magnets. It wasn't a secret around school that our brother and Papa have lycanthropy. Gus studied a lot, ignored people".
"You both still partied plenty", Fleur cackles, obviously feeling the marijuana's effects. "You had some memorable moments. The perks of being insanely beautiful. People want to be around us".
"Fleur ... Tonks is a new friend. Try to fake some humility, huh?", Brigitte side eyes her.
"Nah. Never change Fleur".
"Thank you, Nymphadora ... we should go on a double date! You and Bill can be the tour guides ... sorry, Britt", Fleur cringes.
"For what? I don't want to go on a date with my brother". Tonks and Fleur glance at each other knowing not to push her. They discuss date ideas for the approaching cool weather, their voices fading into the background as Brigitte thinks about her kiss and tragically unknown future with Remus Lupin.
─── . ˚*☆ ☾ ☆*˚ . ───
Who she sees very little of the next couple weeks. Podmore's arrest really takes a toll on the Order, with them covering his shifts and Kingsley trying to find a way to get him released early. With opposite schedules, Brigitte and Remus barely have a proper conversation until the day of Sirius' birthday when they meet Moody at the house they already surveyed.
Brigitte is determined to make a move. She's tired of the dead-end flirting, and she knows the painfully shy and self-loathing Remus will never make a move. Although his touch and stare linger on her, that first kiss is the only one they've shared.
"You walk the block and keep your eyes open, Lupin and I are going in", Moody tells Brigitte as they stand on the roof's edge.
"Pardon?! I can come in too and–"
"No", the men say synchronously. Remus offers an apologetic shrug before disapparating. Brigitte curses under her breath, leisurely walking down the safe Muggle street. She circles the block, noticing some questionable men lurking on a nearby stoop, but nothing unusual. When she rounds the corner, Moody abruptly grasps her arm and takes them back to the safe spot overlooking the neighborhood.
"This location is secured. The property has been taken over by muggles, no traces of magic anywhere", Moody informs her. "You'll get your next location soon. Kingsley is currently updating the list of properties".
"Yes sir. Would you like to come back to Grimmauld Place with us? It's Sirius' birthday", Brigitte invites him.
"No. I'm going to inspect those men you weren't going to tell me about", Moody looks at her accusingly before disappearing with a loud CRACK.
"So now I have to report every creepy man I pass? We're gonna be busy".
"That's Moody, for ya. Wait–do men bother you a lot?", Remus turns to her concern, a protective and slightly jealous heat percolating through his veins.  
"I'm fine, Remus. C'mon, I have to help Molly prep for the party". She sticks her hand out and he intertwines their fingers so they can Apparate home...
Which is totally transformed by the evening.
"You really didn't have to do all this!", Sirius beams as he walks into the kitchen with Arthur and Bill. He looks around at the red and gold streamers hung from the kitchen ceiling, lit by floating candles that are reflecting in his moist eyes.
Tonks is the first to hug her cousin, with Gus lingering behind her to shake his hand, followed by a kiss on the cheek from Brigitte and Molly. Fleur puts a cone party hat on his head and Remus hands him a glass of fire whiskey. Sirius hadn't smiled so big in ages his cheeks ache.
They toast to his good health and soon proclaimed innocence, and dig into the decadent spread. It's all Sirius' favorites: a rack of lamb with roasted fall vegetables and mashed potatoes. A love-filled birthday meal he's never experienced before in this house.
"You've never made any of us a dinner this nice...", Bill mumbles to his mother, picking up his third bread roll.
"Well deary, don't celebrate the next fifteen birthdays and I promise to do something special for you", she smiles sarcastically.
"I make you whatever you want, my love", Fleur assures him, sensually touching his arm. Mrs. Weasley purses her lips, rethinking Bill's next birthday dinner.
"I like the decorations. It's nice to have some color in here", Remus compliments, earning a serene smile from Brigitte. They're squished together at the end of the table, whispering and watching Sirius soak up the moment.
"Thanks, Rem. It was fun, we put up most of the streamers without magic, made the cake like muggles too! Sometimes it's fun to do things with intention and care".
"I think we should keep the streamers up, everyday. Livens up the room, yeah?". Remus waves his hands around, motioning to the monochromatic style.
Brigitte cocks her head and smiles playfully, "I think we'll be lucky if Kreacher doesn't rip down every piece by morning. I'll redecorate for your birthday...".
"And that's why I'll never tell you when it is", he says playfully.
"Ha! You think I don't have my resources?".
"Meaning, Sirius?".
"Oh, hush", Brigitte shoves his arm, feeling his tense biceps. Finishing her champagne, Brigitte pushes her chair out. Remus assists her to stand, and his heart palpitates when she runs her fingers across his knuckles.
"I'll be right back!". Brigitte retrieves the birthday cake from the pantry. The 36 candles light up as she returns to the kitchen. The French girls and a reluctant Gus sing Happy Birthday in their mother tongue, and Sirius makes the longest birthday wish history.
"I hope you like it. It tastes better than it looks", Brigitte laughs at the lopsided mess.
Her sweet, bubbly giggle makes a tingling sensation erupt behind Remus' belly button. The kindness she shows everyone makes his heart skip a beat. She is the light of 12 Grimmauld Place and the reason he feels nervous but simultaneously peaceful every time he walks through the front door. That's why he doesn't understand how someone so bright would look at him twice.
After second helpings of cake, Arthur and Molly leave, and the younger crowd continues the party upstairs. Sirius puts on the Ramones and dances around with the girls while Remus, Bill, and Auguste sit around with their drinks; the latter two dominating the conversation with talk about goblin business. The werewolf turns his gaze once again to Brigitte, hopping around barefoot on the ripped rug, in a curve-hugging dress.
"Hey ho, let's go! Hey ho, let's go!", she sings with Sirius, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to their sweaty foreheads. Brigitte feels Remus' eyes on her and he looks away when she finds him, but not quickly enough. She saunters to him, towering over the scruffy man. Remus looks up at her over the rim of his glass, noticing her outreached hand.
"Oh– after I finish the drink?", he stutters. Brigitte quirks an eyebrow, leaning forward and wrapping her fingers around the glass. She brings it to her lips and downs the brown liquid without batting an eye.
"All done", Brigitte says innocently, pulling Remus from the couch. Auguste rolls his eyes at his sisters flirtations and takes a shot with Bill before they too join the mini dance party.
It’s like a mosh pit, mainly because of Sirius throwing his fists around as he jumps around and screams “its my Brithday!”. It’s a joy to see him in a happier mood. He takes turns dancing with everyone and drunkley kisses the girls cheeks. And of course, Remus and Brigitte try to stay close on the makeshift dance floor.
After an unknown number of whiskey and champagne bottles, vinyl changes and toe injuries, the visiting couples all but collapse on the floor. "Thank Merlin we just have to apparate", Tonks groans with all her body weight against Gus.
"Lucky I'm sober enough to do it". He pushes her onto Fleur and the two brace against each other on their way out. Sirius drunkenly bids a goodnight and drags himself to his room on the top floor.
Brigitte takes the Queen vinyl and slides it back in its sleeve. She puts out the fire and when she turns around Remus is still standing closely with his hands in his pockets. He gives her a small smile and a quiet, "Goodnight", but going against his better judgement he doesn't step away from her.
Brigitte looks up through her thick eyelashes and wishes him good night while caressing his rough, scarred hand. She glances at his mouth and then his eyes, biting her lip and giving him a expecting look.
"We can't, Britt", he says regretfully when she rises up on her tip toes. Brigitte takes half a step forward, her hands moving to his shoulders.
"You said that last time, Remus", she whispers.
"And I meant it... Look, I'm damaged. I'm old, poor, and I've never had a future. You- You're the brilliant woman I've ever met, and you have your whole life ahead of you... I'd ruin that. I'd ruin you. It's different here, we're not in France... You have no idea how much I want this, but it'd be incredibly selfish of me...", he mutters, avoiding eye contact and carefully taking her hands off his shoulders.
Brigitte's face and heart crumble at his harsh words. "Remus, that's such a foolish thing to say! You'd never ruin anything; y-you've made my time here infinitely better! And you're not old or damaged or any of those other things. You're kind, smart, handsome, and I feel lucky to have you in my life... I treasure love and friendships over everything, especially material things like money... I know you feel our connection too. Why can't you let yourself be happy, Remus?", she says with her voice cracking.
"Because I dont deserve it; and I don't deserve you. You'd eventually see that. I'm sorry for letting this go on as long as it did. Just, please ...", he trails off, physically aching from rejecting her.
Realizing there's nothing she can say to change his mind, Brigitte cups his cheek. She leans forward to make him look her in the eyes one last time and gives him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then she turns and runs to her bedroom before he can see the tears rolling down her plump, freckled cheeks.  
Remus stares at the floor where Brigitte was standing, listening to her receding footsteps and feeling as though his heart was ripped from his chest. 'You're kind, smart, handsome, and I feel lucky to have you in my life'... SHE feels lucky to have YOU and you push her away as fast as you can. You're a fucking Idiot!'.
The sound of her heartbroken voice plays in his head on repeat, making him rapidly blink away the moisture stinging his eyes as he stands in that dark room alone.
─── . ˚*☆ ☾ ☆*˚ . ───
Brigitte is able to keep the incident to herself for almost two weeks. She shadows Death Eaters and watches Diagon Alley with Order members who aren't big on small talk, organizes Sirius' personal testimony for whenever they have Pettigrew, and spends most evenings in her room drawing. Remus is coming home late again, and for the first time the two sit apart during the Order meetings.
It's not until her schedule crosses with Fleur that Brigitte can no longer pretend like nothing happened. They're under an invisibility charm together, stealthily walking the Knockturn Alley rooftops. Creepy characters lurk in the shadows on the street, but no Death Eaters or suspicious activity coming from Borgin and Burkes.
"I can't take it anymore. What happened?", Fleur asks.
"With what?", Brigitte tries to play dumb.
"I know you. It takes a lot to upset you. What did he say?".
"Who?".
"Dammit woman you know what I'm talking about-- Oh look, Malfoy's going into that store". They silently watch for a few moments until the wizard walks out empty-handed.
"We'll tell Moody he's still involved in this sketchy stuff. Now back to you and Remus", Fleur says, more interested in her friend's boy troubles than the browsing Death Eater.
"There is no me and Remus. He made that quite clear", Brigitte spits.
"Mon Dieu", Fleur frowns. She looks over to the sunset beyond the city skyline. "Come. Moody said we're finished at nightfall". She apparates Brigitte to the cousin's flat she's living in. It's a townhouse that takes half a block. The floors are marble and the crown molding is mahogany. Heavenly frescos adorn the high ceilings.
"I'm the only one here. Family is safari-ing in Africa, then spending the winter in Morocco", Fleur explains. She prances to the bar and Brigitte slumps onto a fluffy satin couch.
Fleur gives her a glass of cognac and clinks their crystal together. Brigitte gulps the entirety of the drink.
"I kissed him", she says, making Fleur choke on her drink. "I kissed him and he rejected me".
"Oh, sissy. Men are idiots", Fleur rests her head on Brigitte's shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?".
"I really don't. I've been successfully burying my feelings thus far". So instead, they chain smoke cigarettes and lie on the living room floor, watching the enchanted, floating flower petals that Brigitte conjured above them. She points her finger, twirling it in circles to make the petals whirl around like a tornado.
Which does elate her somewhat, but all the sadness she feels from the rejection and vulnerability she showed Remus comes hurling back once she's in Grimmauld Place; though it's only for a moment to change her dress. Fleur had insisted they go out for the night, and Brigitte's day attire is certainly not welcome in the upscale clubs Fleur frequents.
Brigitte finds a sullen Sirius alone in the kitchen, once again throwing insults at Kreacher.
"I'm sorry. It's my fault Remus is not coming around. He hates me. Maybe I stay with Fleur?"
"Absolutely not. Moony goes through these phases sometimes. I'm sure you've seen how hard it can get, his condition... What did he do?".
"He didn't tell you?", Brigitte asks surprised.
"Hell no. He's been avoiding me just as much as you".
"Oh ... Well– find a way to tell him I won't be home tomorrow. I'll stay with Fleur for the weekend. You shouldn't suffer because he doesn't want to be around me", Brigitte offers.
"Whatever he said, he didn't mean it", Sirius yells as she hurries to her bedroom. But Brigitte ignores the comment and gets ready for a night out on the Muggle town: a skin-tight black velvet dress with long sleeves and exposed back. She finishes the look with sheer stockings and combat boots.
"Fleur's gonna love this", she snickers. Hair without sheen and a chunky boot are the antithesis of fashion to the part Veela.
Brigitte runs down the stairs as quietly as a jungle cat stalking its prey, wanting to avoid another awkward moment with Sirius. She apparates to Fleur's block, where the French witch is already waiting outside smoking a skinny cigarette.
"This is exactly why I wanted to dress you ... let's go. With your pretty face, you'll still get in", she remarks, flicking the cigarette butt.
"Ugh! Rude! Where are we going anyway?". Fleur takes her arm and Apparates them to the rich part of town.
It's a nightclub called Noir. Very fitting for Fleur. The girls skip the long line, and waltz right in like they own the place. An upbeat remix blasts over the speakers, so loud Brigitte can feel the bass vibrating throughout her body. Tall, beautiful people fill up the space, and Brigitte realizes Fleur wasn't making a hyperbolic insult at her outfit. High-end designer logos are seen in every direction.
Fleur speaks into an waitress' ear, an intimidatingly beautiful woman who takes them to the only empty seats at the bar.
The bartender looks bored, raising his eyebrow instead of asking what they'd like to drink. Fleur lifts up two fingers and shouts, "Courvoisier Cognac!".
That's the last thing Brigitte remembers ...
They sway their bodies together in the middle of the dance floor, unintentionally seducing the entire room. Brigitte let's the music guide her, no thoughts in her head. Their hair are tangled messes from the erratic movements, mascara already smudged and drinks sloshed on their dresses.
A few more songs later, a hand much larger than Fleur's finds its way around Brigitte's waist. She turns abruptly and makes eye contact with a very handsome Muggle. A young man, no older than herself, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit. His hair is more gelled than Brigitte usually likes, but there's no denying his attractiveness. He looks like he stepped out of a Hugo Boss ad she's seen plastered everywhere, with his almond eyes and round lips.
When she doesn't push away his touch, the man takes Brigitte's hand and leads her in a dance. His leg slowly finds its between hers as she grinds her hips. He moves in sync, masterfully finishing his cocktail without any dripping down his chin. When the song fades into a new one, he leans to her ear, brushing her hair away before speaking.
"I'm Victor. I'd love to buy you a drink?", he asks with a smile, exposing his pearly white teeth. Brigitte glances at Fleur, but she's too preoccupied with her own dance partner. She keeps the man at an arm's distance apart, despite his attempts to get a better hold of her hips.
"I'm Brigitte", she says with a barely noticeable slur once they approach the bar.
"Beautiful name, beautiful girl. What would you like to drink, Love?".
"Whatever you're having". Victor smirks and turns to the bartender, who passes them each a glass of warm amber liquid. Brigitte takes a sip and violently cringes at the foul taste. Somehow Muggle whiskey is worse than the stuff Sirius and Remus drink.
Remus. It's the first time the lycanthrope has crossed her mind all night. Brigitte shakes her head, pushing it away. She takes a large gulp of the drink, hoping it will make her feel good like the cognacs did not so long ago.
"You from around here, Brigitte?", Victor asks, bringing her out of her thoughts.
"No. France. I'm working here temporarily. Same goes for my friend", she says gesturing to Fleur.
"Well, I could listen to you all night", Victor purrs before downing his beverage. "Watching you dance was quite nice too. Care to rejoin our friends?". He offers his hand, which Brigitte takes after another few sips of alcohol. She notices how smooth this white-collared man's skin is compared to Remus'. Not a stubbly hair in sight, not that she minds the scruffy look.
She tries not to think about that either. Instead, trying to be in the moment, feeling Fleur brush up against her as they dance. She focuses on Victor's hands exploring her body, him pulling her close and brushing his nose against her neck. She can smell his expensive cologne. Brigitte clears her mind, dancing up against the hot stranger as he grips the curvature of her bum.
His fingers trail up, tracing her spine and around her neck until he's cupping her cheek. They both know what happens next. Brigitte turns her head slightly and raises her chin, letting his press his lips to her. They're soft and smooth and clearly experienced. Victor groans when he tastes Brigitte and softly squeezes her necks.
It's not a bad kiss at all ... but it's not Remus, and that realization hits Brigitte all at once. No amount of alcohol can make her forget that. She suddenly pulls away, pushing Victor's chest.
"I'm sorry", she whimpers as she clumsily pushes through the dance floor towards the exit. She ignores Fleur calling after her, not stopping until the cool, night air hits her skin. This behavior isn't like her at all. Getting hung up on some man, then using alcohol and other men as a distraction. She's not sure if Remus' rejection, or her response to it is more humiliating. Then again, she'd never consider Remus just "some man", and that's why it hurts so much.
"Britt! Brigitte, Love! You okay? Did that guy-"
"No, no it wasn't him. It's me. Fleur ... why does this suck so much?". She stumbles as they stand on the curb.
"Because you've fallen for Remus and you've never let yourself like a guy this much before. It double hurts when the person who rejects you doesn't want to". Fleur wraps her arm around Brigitte and hails a taxi. No way can they Disapparate when they're both this intoxicated.
"He is so stubborn ... but so smart and cute. And totally good enough for me! No matter what he says! Why does it have to be so complicated?!".
"So this is what happens when you get liquor drunk? You're much more refined on champagne", Fleur jokes as she helps Brigitte into the yellow car. After a silent ten minute drive, they arrive in front of 11 Grimmauld Place. Fleur drags a sleeping Brigitte out of the backseat and sits her on the stoop. She pays the driver and waits for him to leave before waving her wand to reveal Headquarters.
"I am not carrying you up the stairs", Fleur hisses. She opens the door and lets out a sigh of relief seeing the kitchen door illuminated, but who she finds isn't who she was expecting.
"Hey, Sirius can you– oh! Remus, hello ...", Fleur's greeting dies down upon seeing the lycanthrope alone in the kitchen.
"Fleur. Everything alright? Where's Brigitte?", he asks in a hurry. Fleur looks down at her shoes, the bright lights of the kitchen irritating her drunken eyes.
"She's fine, technically ... that's why I came in here, follow me". They march to the front door to find Brigitte slumped over on the steps.
"She's a light weight", Fleur giggles. Remus kneels down in front of Brigitte and sits her up.
"Hey, Brigitte. Can you stand up for me?", he asks. She mumbles incoherently.
"Thats what I thought", he sighs. Remus scoops Brigitte up with ease.
"Just put her to bed", Fleur instructs. "On her side so she doesn't choke ... and Remus? Stop fucking around with her". Fleur flicks her wand and takes the Knight Bus home. Remus looks down at Brigitte tucked into his chest as he climbs the many steps in Grimmauld Place. She nuzzles into his shirt and takes a deep breath.
"Smell... good", she mutters before passing out. Remus smiles sadly, kissing Brigitte's forehead and gently placing her into bed. He removes her shoes and pulls the covers up to her chin, praying she'll have no hangover or memory of him in the morning.
─── . ˚*☆ ☾ ☆*˚ . ───
After that night, Fleur demanded they get together for another small soiree to get Brigitte's mind off things. Or rather, to give them a chance to gossip about it.
"I stopped by the bank today and Fleur told me all about your fun night out ... lover boy still being hard-headed, huh?", Tonks inquires.
Brigitte glares at Fleur, "Remus was quite clear. 'I'll ruin you. I'm damaged, old, you're too good for me'; and he wouldn't listen to me. We haven't talked since", she says painfully, taking a hit of a joint. Fleur looks at her hands guiltily, having decided against telling Brigitte about Remus carrying her to bed.
"Oh, Britt, I'm sorry. I doubt he'll be able to resist you forever, though. The lycanthropy makes him stubborn", Tonks says trying to comfort her.
"Yeah! And if he doesn't come around then you gotta go for one of these Princes! That Edward is not so bad". The girls laugh at her dramatics. "That'll make Remus crazy jealous".
"What will?", Bill asks as he and Gus come inside from the small terrace smelling like burnt tobacco.
"Britt getting with one of your Muggle Princes".
"That'll be the day", Gus laughs. Brigitte shoots a spark from her fingertip to her brother's butt cheek, making him yelp like a poodle. "Ouch! You know I'm on your side! No Prince of Lupin better hurt ya".
"Aw, I think I might cry", Brigitte swoons, wiping away a fake tear. Coincidentally, on the other side of London, the two Marauders are sitting in the Grimmauld Place kitchen with their whiskeys, the room cold and dimm without Brigitte's lively energy.
"I can feel you looking at me, Pads", Remus groans, looking at his meat and potatoes.
Sirius shakes his head and throws down his fork, "I'm just wondering when you're going to tell me what happened ... I saw the way you two were. I saw the longing looks. Now- nothing".
Remus sighs and drops his head in shame, "Fine. She kissed me, Sirius ... I had to end it before she got hurt".
Sirius looks at him unimpressed, "You're telling me that incredible woman kissed you and you push her away? You don't think Britt can protect herself? And protect her from what!? You're supposed to be the smart one", he says flabbergasted.
Remus keeps his head down, too guilty to look at his friend, "it's better this way... She'll be glad one day that she didn't waste her time".
Sirius laughs at his self-depreciation, "Wow, Moony you belong in a Greek tragedy! I can't believe you- someone who accepts and understands your furry condition; loves the same nerdy shit? I told you not to ignore that... The last few weeks, she still asks me about you. You're worried about hurting her, you already have mate".
Masterlist:
Taglist: @dontjudgemyobsessionpls​
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peaktotheocean · 1 year
Text
medicinal
pairing: pre-steddie ao3 link here summary: “I’ve got a friend who is having a ton of migraine issues," Robin blurted out. Eddie's head rose to look at her. That was a new one. "We heard weed helps. Any truth to it?” She asked hopefully.
Eddie didn't usually take appointments. It was easy enough to show up at a party, make some sales, and then skedaddle. The idea of someone wanting to get him alone at a certain time and location sounded like a recipe for trouble. 
But he didn't always say no. Certain people, he just got a good vibe from. 
And Robin Buckley was one of those people. 
Which was the only reason he was waiting by the river an hour before dusk, trying to pretend as though he was out for a walk. Maybe birdwatching. He could be a birdwatcher. He wasn't so much for human chicks but baby birds--
Well, there was a Robin coming towards him right now. 
“Buckley, welcome.” He tilted his head in greeting and gestured to the large rocks that made up the riverbank. "Please, step into my office."
“Good to see you too.” Robin gave him a nervous smile but it wasn't too different from her regular smile. She tugged down on the sleeves of her jacket even though the early September sun setting through the trees managed to heat up the whole city as a fuck you before disappearing. 
“When do you normally see me?” Eddie chalked it up to regular anxiety or first time jitters. Robin wasn't a recurring customer. He had seen her share a joint or two with a few people at band parties but she'd never purchased anything for herself. At least not from Eddie. 
“Band practice?“ Robin tried. “I guess I don’t,” she admitted a whole second later.
“We appreciate the honesty here.” He sorted through his stash, filing through plastic baggies a personal card catalog. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve got a friend who is having a ton of migraine issues," Robin blurted out. Eddie's head rose to look at her. That was a new one. "We heard weed helps. Any truth to it?” She asked hopefully. She let out a sigh, as if she had been gearing herself up to ask the question the whole walk along the river.
"Damn it, Buckley, I'm a dealer, not a doctor," Eddie joked, trying to soften it with a smirk. It didn’t work. Robin's face fell and Eddie bit his lip. "But I’ve heard some positive things. This friend can't buy it for themselves?" Eddie mentally went through the people he had seen Robin with, in band, around town, at the diner. Some geeks from school, a few soccer girls, and weirdly enough, some of the kids from Hellfire. Eddie thought back to a conversation he had with Dustin not too long ago, with the kid pulling him aside after a campaign session. "This isn't for Henderson, is it? I already told that kid his first time smoking is going to be with me."
Robin didn't hide her surprise but it morphed into impressed more quickly than Eddie expected. "Very responsible, Munson. No, it's not for Dustin.” She did a double-take and her already short hair flew into her mouth. Even as she tried to pull it out, she asked, “Dustin asked you for weed?"
"Gave me a very similar story to you, Buckley." Eddie narrowed his eyes. "What exactly am I missing here?"
Robin kept silent, not avoiding the question, but just being thoughtful about her answer. Eddie couldn't tell if she was being so choosy with her words for Eddie's sake or her own. Maybe both. 
Finally, slowly, she started to speak.
"Dustin and I have...a mutual friend who can't afford the amount of concussions he keeps getting. Hence all the migraines." Robin rapped her closed fist against her own head, wincing directly after.
"Ouch." Eddie matched her expression. "Can't afford like--"
"Both physically and monetarily," Robin quickly interrupted him. 
"Christ."
"Yeah so, we're trying...other avenues." Robin gestured to Eddie, fingers outstretched and wiggling, imitating one of the many Hawkins cheerleaders.
"And what does your friend think about these alternative avenues?" Eddie held up a baggie that he thought would suit her needs. Or her mystery friend’s needs, more like. 
Robin huffed and her bangs flew into the air. "He hates that we're making a fuss. But if he's in enough pain next time around, I don't think he'll argue if I'm ready with some supplies." She looked pointedly at the weed held between Eddie's fingers.
Eddie didn't hand it over just yet. He knew he stared too much sometimes but he couldn't help it. Especially now. 
This was a different Buckley from the one he knew from band. Something had changed over the summer and Eddie wasn't sure what. 
He also wasn't sure he wanted to know, if he was being honest with himself.
There was a wall there, some kind of barrier in Robin's eyes. She wasn't giving him anything and it made Eddie want to turn tail and run, leaving her with whatever weed she wanted for her friend. But instead, he used his free hand to grip on the rock beneath him and did his best to smile at her.
They weren't fooling each other. 
"You're making me want to give you a discount, Buckley. I never do that." He shook his head and handed over the little plastic bag. "$20."
"That sounds like a fuss, Eddie Munson. But I won't tell him if you won't." Robin took her purchase and stared at it, like she wasn't sure where to put it now that she had it. She settled for slipping it between a sock and her low top Chucks. Not the worst place. Most women tucked it into their bra but Eddie wasn't going to offer any critiques. Instead, he grabbed onto another bad question that a part of his brain couldn't help wondering. 
"You won't tell me who this guy is? How you and Dustin know the same victim of hard knocks? In Hawkins?" Not much happened in this city if Eddie didn't include whatever the hell happened with the Byers kid a few years back. Well, and the mall that caught on fire. Shit, maybe Hawkins was gearing up for something.
"There are...other elements at play here." Robin bit off before she could say anything else. Her eyes brightened up again but not nearly enough. Eddie could still see that wall, no matter how easy she played it off. So he took a different avenue. He couldn't help it.
"You said he keeps getting concussions. You being careful?"
Robin let out a hollow laugh at that, which made Eddie feel both better and worse. "We are doing our best." 
That wasn't a great answer. 
Eddie thought about Dustin. How he and Mike and Lucas sometimes planned combat maneuvers during Hellfire as though they were seasoned war veterans, taking the game way too seriously. Normally, Eddie had the opposite problem when wrangling players during Dungeons & Dragons.
"Are the kids are caught up in this?" Eddie asked quietly, not even realizing until the words were out of his mouth. 
Robin’s spine stiffened just slightly and there it was— the same steel expression the kids got on their faces while trying to figure out their next move. Eddie could see her mind shifting and it only frayed Eddie's nerves further. 
She looked him in the eyes and asked, in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Do you really want to know the answer to any of this, Eddie?"
"No..." Eddie answered slowly. He couldn't look away from her eyes. She seemed so...curious almost. As if she was just daring him to ask. "No, I do not. Take your purchase and have a lovely day."
Just like that, the moment was gone. Robin tilted her head back and laughed, stretching her arms in front of her as she lifted herself off of the rock. 
“Sweet talker," she called behind her, leaving him by the river, just watching her go. 
"I'm not your type, Buckley," Eddie shouted at her, not able to help himself. 
"You're not mine either, Munson," Robin mocked him with a wink.
 -
Waiting for Steve to emerge from Lover's Lake was the longest minute and ten seconds of Eddie's life. He remembered the look Steve had given Dustin. And then the one he had given Eddie. He kept going over Dustin's hero worship in his head. His fingers tightened around Steve's yellow sweatshirt.
He doesn't know this new Steve Harrington at all. But he'd like to. 
He'd really like to. Damn it.
There's nothing but the water sloshing up against the side of the boat and Eddie figured if he didn't talk, Robin would start. She couldn't stand the silence. So instead, Eddie asked the question he had been thinking about ever since Dustin explained this whole wild story.
"Your friend. With the concussions." He nudged Robin who gave him a blank look for a few seconds before letting out laughter that was far too loud. She clapped her hands over her mouth but slowly lowered them. 
"Figured it out?" She whispered.
"Pretty obvious now that I’ve seen him in action." Eddie gulped, looking down at the water. They couldn't even see the flashlight through the water anymore. "When you said that he couldn't afford anymore..."
Nancy looked between the two of them and sighed. "He always says that it's better him than the kids or us,” she grumbled. She glanced back down at the time and then over the side of the boat to the dark water. “Hard to disagree with that logic but..."
"But that doesn't mean we have to like it,” Robin finished for her.
“Your lives, man.” Eddie shook his head. "This is insane."
“Tell us something we don’t know,” Nancy muttered.
 -
Eddie could maybe admit that his brain wasn't firing on all cylinders. He still felt pretty fuzzy and in a lot of pain but he couldn't help but smile when he opened his eyes to see Steve Harrington next to him, slumped down in a hospital chair. Dustin, a cast on his leg, was curled up in a chair across the room, asleep but seemingly in better shape than both Eddie and Steve.
Somehow, Steve looked even worse in the well-lit hospital room than he had in the Upside Down, but it's possible that was just because there was enough light for Eddie to see every bandage and suture. But Steve was conscious and blinked when he saw that Eddie's eyes were open, as if he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
"You're awake," Steve said dumbly, sitting up too quickly in his chair and then hissing in pain. He tried again, slower this time and leaned closer to Eddie's bed. So close and yet Eddie still would gladly give up a few more inches. 
"Please tell me you don't have another concussion," Eddie blurted out before he could help it. Somewhere, Robin felt even more of a kinship with him and didn't know it was because neither of them could ever stop talking. But Steve's head was something he had been thinking about on loop during their whole journey, even when potentially getting a concussion of his own. Not just his head, but maybe his face too, and his hair. But that was all part of his head so it was okay. 
Steve's brain caught up with the question. "Wait-- how do you know about that?" He stopped and narrowed his eyes. "Robin. That was your weed?"
"Buckley and the grass,” Eddie confirmed, leaning his head back against the hospital pillow. He could have sworn he heard his hair crunch. What he wouldn’t give for a shower. “But I figured it out for myself once I saw you at work during this adventure.” He winked and he hoped the hospital lighting wasn't playing tricks on him because Steve Harrington's blush went all the way down to the bandage that covered his bruised torso. 
He held out his hand and Steve took it so quickly that the heart monitor attached to Eddie beeped with excitement. Steve squeezed his fingers and didn't let go but instead, let both of their hands rest together on the edge of Eddie's bed. He ran his thumb over the back of Eddie's hand but Eddie was like a dog with a bone. He wasn't going to let this go. 
"You didn't answer my question."
"About?" Steve looked up from where their hands were and his dazed eyes made Eddie wonder if he had his own bed in the hospital somewhere that he had snuck out of in order to be in Eddie's room.
"About that head of yours, Stevie." Eddie squeezed his hand. "Don't tell me they were too distracted by the stitches to do a concussion check."
"Oxygen loss was the bigger issue this time around, apparently," Steve joked badly and gestured to the bruise around his neck. Eddie knew that bruises had to get worse before they could get better but Steve's looked downright terrible. 
"Your poor brain, sweetheart," Eddie sighed, only half faking his sorrowful tone. He wished Steve was closer so he could sink his hands into that hair. Maybe a head massage would help. 
"I know, I know."
“When we get out of here, we’re going to treat those migraines right.” Eddie wasn’t sure how but he bet the Byers’ new friend Argyle could help him out.
Steve hummed and closed his eyes, still holding onto Eddie’s hand even as he drifted off. “I’d like that.”
-
ao3 link here
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