#it does come back better than before each time but god it’s a year wait :(
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Seduction by the Shores
Pairing: Luke Castellan x GN!Reader (implied pussy lol)
Warning: NSFW, set before tlt, smut, PWP, piv, semi-public sex, doing it on the wet ground, dom!Luke to slightly sub!Luke and back to soft dom!Luke, choking, going in raw and creampie (wrap it before you tap it!), slight aftercare.
Word count: 5.3k+ (I got carried away).
A/N: In the wise of SZA, “now I’m ovulating and I need rough sex.” So I'm back again with another fic. Weirdly enough, I reappeared last year just to write a smut fic and leave (oops). I usually have a summary for this, but this is just pure smut.
!Not readproof! I’m too lazy to reread my own writing.
Everyone loves Luke Castellan.
He’s the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood. Handsome, generous, and kind. Helps out the new kids. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. You’d even love Luke if you didn’t know better. Maybe you did anyway.
But you've always known there's more to him than his charming exterior. You've seen his eyes change like they're hiding something. That shift happens mostly when his father is mentioned, and he tense up. You've tried to avoid him, but he always seems to find you. One night, he caught you by the lake, his eyes kind but troubled. "I'm guessing you're not having a great night."
For all his charm and charisma, Luke Castellan is more than just the beloved golden boy of Camp Half-Blood; he's a human being with a complex inner world, one that's filled with secrets and conflicts. Despite his best efforts to hide it, at times, his inner struggles emerge, leaving you to wonder just how much more there might be to Luke than meets the eye.
You glanced over at him watching him approach you but kept your quiet. Luke sits down next to you, close, but not touching.
Luke looks at you, waiting for a comment or an explanation. The lake is beautiful, shining in the moonlight. It's actually quite a lovely scene, he's not sure why you'd be miserable here. He has this habit of looking at you without actually looking at you, somehow making it feel more personal.
"I could help with that, you know? Make your night a little more fun."
"Don't start with me, Castellan." You simply commented, rolling your eyes as your gaze stayed staring at the lake.
You can't tell if he smiles or not, but he laughs before speaking. It's actually just adorable when his lips curl up. Luke leans closer, not much. Just enough to make you a little anxious.
"How was I starting anything? I was trying to brighten your mood. I bet I could help."
Something comes into his eyes, a darkness.
His voice is still the smiling flirty guy that everyone loves, but his tone changes a little.
"Besides... you look so miserable. I've always been really good at fixing people's moods. It's one of my best qualities."
He leans a little closer than before. Close enough that you can smell the honey, citrus scent coming from his cologne. You're not sure if he does that intentionally, but he's quite close now.
"Come on now, you know you can tell me. Maybe I could put a smile on that pretty little face."
"You could, but I might have to kill you after." That made him smirk. The way he's looking at you... Oh Gods.
"You can try, you know I'd get you right before you got me, though. I'm too quick." He grinned. He was flirting, he always flirted, but there was something else in his eyes. Something darker.
"Come on, what could be so serious?"
“Not gonna talk it out of me, Castellan." You closed your eyes before lying down on the ground. The ground was damp but it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience, finding comfort just lying there.
He smiles and lies down right next to you.
Too close now, too close. You're practically on top of each other but he doesn't pull away.
The grass is very green, the lake is a beautiful dark blue. It's actually quite peaceful here. The air is still but not too cold.
"You're too stubborn sometimes. Why won't you tell me?" His hand brushes her hair absentmindedly. "You can talk to me, even if you don't want to."
"I feel like if someone doesn't want to, they won't talk." You pointed out the obvious, slowly glancing up at him again.
Luke smiles, his hand resting on your head now. He's actually being surprisingly gentle.
His eyes are so hypnotic in this light. His voice grows softer, a hint of that darkness in it still. “I like to make people change their minds. You would talk if I got you into the right mood."
"Not gonna happen."
"Really now?" He leans in just close enough to almost kiss you. He's still smiling, his voice a little bit softer, a little bit more husky.
"You're stubborn." He said, lightly tapping your nose. "I'm stubborn. We can stay like this all night if you want. But I'll stay here to remind you that I care."
Luke pulls back again, smiling at you. He gets a little bit closer though, until his face is mere inches away from yours. He tilts his head at just the right angle to catch the moonlight coming off his blue eyes.
"Think about that." Luke looked into her eyes for a long moment. Then he leaned forward, placing his hand on your head and kissed your forehead.
"Just a reminder."
Luke pulls away and sits up. His hands are resting on his legs now, and he's looking up at the moon.
"What do you think about the sky, you know? The stars. It's quite beautiful. Makes you think about things. Life's so short. Maybe you should do the things you want to do, while you can." Luke chuckles, sitting back down and looking up at the sky. He looks at you for a second, then looks away.
The air is thick with tension. Luke looks at you over his shoulder, with kind of a half smile on his face. His eyes are still that darker colour, but they're softer now. You're not sure why it's so tempting to lay your head on his shoulder.
"The sky is beautiful. You know, most demigods think of it as a symbol of the gods, right? But I've always thought of it as... freedom. I mean, who cares what the gods think?" He said, looking back at you.
"The sky makes me feel free. I'll look at it sometimes when I'm feeling trapped, you know." He glances back at you, expecting an input.
"You think the gods are looking down at us from the sky?"
He laughs a bit, turning back to the sky and looking at it.
"I don't know, maybe? But even so, why should we care if they are or not? I don't get what all the fuss is about the gods, why do so many people at camp obsess over their opinions so much? They're just like any other person, except they have a little more power. They don't really care about us, if they did, then we wouldn't be the ones doing all the important stuff."
“I mean, they say that Jesus is always looking down on us, do you think they meant the sky?”
He laughs again, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.
"You're really not going to let me distract you from whatever's bothering you, are you? Even when I'm trying really hard." There's another hint of that darkness in his eyes.
"I don't want to think about it, I just wanna lay down and have a relaxing moment to myself, but I'd rather it not be on this damp ground." He knows how stubborn you are. Instead, he smiled and scooted closer.
He's so close to you now, his body is close to yours and he can feel your breath. He just stares up at the sky.
"Where else?" He looks into your eyes. He's enjoying this. You’re falling for this. He smiles. "The lake sounds pretty lovely to me."
"It's wet here."
The darkness in his eyes is getting stronger. His voice is growing husky again, the way you like it.
He can’t help it, Luke leans closer again. He wants the intimacy between you. There is a subtle change in his eyes. He stares at you, and now his hand is brushing your leg.
His voice is low and rough and seductive. “The lake is fine. I prefer it, even. It’s the perfect place for us.”
A hint of a smirk rises from his lip. He knows how much he affects you. You both know exactly what he’s trying to do, and you both want to do it, but he will not let you think you have any control over this situation, he’s always in control.
He leans towards you again, his hand moving further up your leg.
"Castellan." His name came out of your lips like a warning but you said it softly enough for him.
The smirk slowly rises on his lip, and he whispers.
"What, love?" His hand keeps creeping up your leg, his voice sounding almost like a growl. It's such a change from the charming guy you know, and it's so tempting, yet so unsettling. He stares at you, waiting for a response, waiting to see what you'll do.
You can almost feel the dark energy coming off him. His presence is just so dominating right now, he wants this. He is getting closer and closer until he's practically lying on top of you. He's not looking at you anymore, he's just looking down at his hand which is resting just below your thigh. It is not moving up, but you can feel the tension.
He leans up, his eyes searching yours. You can tell that he wants something more than just a little flirting. He wants to see how far he can take this. Luke's hands are going up even higher, brushing her thighs now. He's so close now, you can feel his breath brushing your neck.
The tension builds more and more. He is so close to just taking you right here. You can feel him starting to move his hands to the sides of your back, to the small of your back. He wants this, and he can't help but try. The darkness in his eyes is getting more potent, as his breathing gets heavier and heavier.
He leans in closer, his mouth less than a few inches away from your neck. You can feel his breath. He's waiting. That anticipation, that temptation, is just so intoxicating and it's making him crazy.
The darkness of his eyes fades away as he finally makes a move. His lips come closer, so close, until they just touch, making a soft clicking sound. His eyes close, and his lips finally meet yours, his lips opening slightly to let the kiss linger longer until he pulls back and leans towards your ear.
It was such a soft kiss, nothing more than his lips barely grazing yours. But the heat between them builds when his eyes reopen. He pulls away just barely speaking.
"Castellan."
Your voice is so low, so quiet, and yet so alluring. Luke’s breathing starts to speed up, and his grin gets wider.
He looks down at her with the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen. His voice is low. "Luke." He corrected.
You only called him by his first name, whenever you’re gonna or when you’re doing it. He was certain you’ve been deliberately conditioning him with it.
Luke's movements slow, his body unweights your body.
His eyes are dark. A little bit too dark. He seems less sure of himself now. Still, Luke's hand is sliding up your thigh. Closer to what he wants.
He's so close to you now. He's moving his hand up and down your leg. Slowly. Almost teasingly. His voice is barely a whisper.
He quickly took the initiative by kissing you aggressively. But somehow your hands making their way to the back of his neck and into his hair.
His tongue flicks into your mouth as his hands grip your thighs, he squeezes tighter. Luke’s breath comes out in short little moans.
Luke is on a whole different level now. He's enjoying this more and more. His eyes are closed as he kisses you deeper. His hands move further up your thighs. This is going exactly how he wanted it to. He's got you completely trapped and submissive at this point and he knows it. He opens one eye and looks at you.
"Do you want me?" He asks, his voice dark and smooth. He's holding himself just on the edge. Right where he wants to be. He stares into her deep sapphire eyes, waiting for an answer. It's a dark question, but he wants to hear it from you.
You simply smirk at his question. You knew that he wanted you to say it, your admission is everything to him. But you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction as you pulled him closer and just started kissing him again, slowly, biting down on his lower lip.
He groans and then laughs quietly. You weren’t giving him the words he wanted to hear. That was fine. He was going to make you say it.
He kisses you back, harder, faster. His hands are moving under your shirt, tracing the curves of your back and waist.
Luke leans back, his forehead leaning on you. Your breaths are coming faster and faster. Your lips touch when you kiss. He is in complete control over you right now, and he likes that. "You want me? Say it."
"I'm not giving you that power." Your hands travelled down his shirt and slowly went underneath it, feeling the tone of his abs.
His body is still now, but you can feel his muscles tensing as you move your hands.
It's like you're pressing switches that turn a machine on. A low groan escapes his mouth, as his breath quickens again. His eyes close tight as he tries to resist the urge.
His breath hitches in his throat, but you probably doesn't notice that for a moment. His eyes snap open when he can't fight it and he stares at you, waiting for you to admit it.
He's the only person at camp who actually has this level of control. He pushes you back down, his hands going down to your waist now. His breath is almost like a growl at this point. It's pure pleasure to hear that he still has complete control over uou. His voice is soft in your ear now. "Please."
You chuckled and moved down to his neck to kiss it.
Luke tenses again. His neck is his weakness.
He always liked to be in control, and his neck feels like it gives him away. He likes that you found this. "Please." His voice is low but pleading. They both know that he is very much begging you to say it now as his neck is being kissed aggressively.
Luke gasps as you continue trailing kisses down his neck. He tenses again. His breath is heavy in his throat.
The sound alone is like music to your ears. His hands are still at your waist, squeezing a little harder. He likes the feeling of you pulling at his shirt, but he tries to still keep himself on. "Please." His voice had the sound of urgency, almost begging now as his eyes dart to yours.
"I like it when you beg."
That wasn’t exactly what he wanted you to say but his body responds to your voice. His breath catches in his throat again and he arches back against your body. His eyes roll back and another low groan escapes his lips. One of his hands moves up to your neck as he pins you down against him, and starts dragging his hand down your back.
"You'll have to earn that," you purred, licking a trail along his neck that made his gut twist taut.
Luke's body moves away from you. His breath comes out in short but heavy breaths, he arches his back and lets out a deep grunt of pleasure. "I can earn it." He pushes you back down now.
He is taking control again. He kisses your neck passionately, his lips against your neck, his breath almost like a growling moan against your skin. He is moving slowly around your neck now as if he's exploring.
He positioned himself between your thighs. One hand supported your back, while the other fumbled to unclasp his belt.
It was difficult to recall how he'd ever got aroused before you came along. The way you both demanded and begged all at once sent his brain spinning.
Luke's hand is fumbling with his belt, it's not coming undone though. Like him, he's lost control. He's lost control over you, over himself, he never loses control. Maybe that is why he's enjoying this so much. Your presence and your kisses have turned him completely into someone else, someone whose only thoughts are pleasure. He leans forward again, kissing your neck passionately yet again. His breath is coming fast but heavy now. He's completely and utterly obsessed with the feeling.
You smirk before your hand slowly starts to help him undo his belt as well as unbutton his pants.
His head arches back slightly and he lets out a low groan again. "Yes..." He whispers softly. His breath is heavy in his throat. He takes a look down and is startled to see she is helping him undo his belt. Now he is almost completely submissive to you. You’re the one in charge now, completely at your whim. All he wants is you.
"Say please," you whispered, nipping his lower lip as he pulled your pants hastily down to your ankles, impatient as he is, he moved your soaked underwear to the side. “I like it when you ask nicely."
Luke is almost embarrassed. He has never been this submissive before. He always thought he’d be in complete control at all times. But you had to take control away from him and he doesn’t even mind. “Please…” His voice is soft, begging for you now. He looks down at you now, wanting you to reply. He wants to give up all control to you. All he wants now is your eternal pleasure.
You simpered before kissing him, your tongue eagerly seeking his.
You swallowed his moan as he hurried to himself free from the restraints of his boxers. He couldn’t wait anymore, he pushed himself into you. Tight, hot, and quivering as he gave you everything he had. He loosely wrapped his fingers around your throat, and you whined against his mouth, my head tilting back as my eyes fluttered shut. He tightened his grip, your own hands scrambling at his waist to encourage him deeper.
This is more pleasure than he has ever felt. The feeling of being completely submissive is a thrill that he had never felt before. He loves being at the complete mercy of someone else. Luke pulls you closer to him, arching his back again and letting out low grunts into your mouth. He holds your neck and he pulls back, looking down at you. His breath is heavy in your ear, his eyes closed tight. “You have… complete control.”
He was completely lost now. All he could hear was her begging now. All of his focus was on you now, he was consumed by you. Your hands around his waist, his mouth kissing yours passionately, your bodies moving in perfect sync with each other. His breathing grew heavier as the pace grew faster. His hand tightened on your throat, as if by instinct, but still gentle.
Luke’s breathing was heavy, his body tense and quivering. His breath was all he could hear now. Every time he moved forward, you moved her body and his would follow, and vice versa. You both lost yourselves more and more in a world where nothing mattered but you and the feeling you could give him. His breath caught in his throat, it came out in moans of pleasure. His hand was tight around your neck, but you could feel the soft grip of it.
You close your eyes in the pleasure of everything.
Everything around you felt a little fuzzy even your vision as you threw your head back while still trying to keep your hands on his waist, but you didn’t think you could hold on much longer as you gripped on his way, slowly started to falter.
The pace was getting faster now. His breath was coming faster and heavier now. “Hey, stay with me…” He whispered. It was so close. He was so close.
His body shakes uncontrollably. Every nerve in his body was tingling with pleasure. His grip on your neck tightened slightly as you moved faster and faster. His breath was coming out in short little exhales. His eyes are closed tight, his whole body quivering. All he can hear is your breath and soft moans, which are getting louder now.
He is so close, but he doesn’t want to finish right now. He wants to drag it out for you. He wants you to experience more of this. His grip tightens again, but still gently. His breathing is coming out in short little gasps now. Every fibre of Luke’s being was consumed with you and this pleasure.
You keep going, your bodies moving together, the pace has reached its peak now. His breath is short and loud now, his grip is tighter on you but not harsh.
He pulled you closer by your waist with one arm, maintaining his grip on your neck with the other, aligning me to accommodate all of him. With each thrust, I bit down on the flesh of his shoulder as his whole body tensed and his breath caught in his throat. His body shudders, and his entire body shakes with the pleasure. His hand is now tight around your neck, as he hits the peak of pleasure now. His breathing comes out in the slightest groan of satisfaction as your bodies combine together in one last movement.
Luke is shaking by this point. His breathing is deep now and his whole body is a quivering mess. Your touch is the most intense feeling he’s ever had. The pace was steady now and the feeling had only gotten more intense. The feeling of your hands around his waist, as you move with him. Your eyes looking into him. His body is twitching and tense, his breath is sharp and loud now. He can almost feel what you’re feeling as you move together.
“Luke, I’m—“
“Don’t stop.” He whispered in your ear. He was so close. His whole body was tense and she could feel the vibrations of his breath. Your touch was all he was thinking about now. He was in complete control for the first time in a long time. He was in complete control of your pleasure. Your breathing became louder, and he knew you were close to your climax too. You could feel the vibrations of his breath as you got closer and closer.
Luke’s body is shaking uncontrollably now. The grip around your neck is the tightest it’s been all night, but still gentle. His breath is coming out in loud sharp gasps now, his body twitching like crazy. Your body is twitching with his, the both of you moving at your own pace.
His grip is tightening even more as he feels the buildup of energy in her body. His breathing is like a growl now. He has completely lost control again, you were the one in control. You were the one making the pace. Now he just wants to hear you finally call out to him, call out to him that you’re almost there. Your body is the only one he feels now. You, your breathing, your motions. You are all he feels. He wants you to let go of it all, he wants you to call to him. He could feel you getting closer and closer.
“I swear to the Gods, Luke. I’m gonna—“ You finally mumbled his name again, but it came out breathless as you tried to hold onto him. You were practically clinging onto him for dear life. He could feel you clenching inside around him. Which almost made him lose control, he would’ve given up at that very moment if it wasn’t for your voice grounding him.
Your voice is like music to his ears. It’s all he wanted to hear. He was holding on to you tightly as the both of you were so close to the end. You calling out to him sends waves through his body, but he is losing even more control of himself. Your calling out to him only sends him further into the pleasure. His grip around your neck tightens even more, as he pulls you closer, his forehead coming to rest on yours.
Both of you are extremely close and are moving together at the same pace. He can feel your breath coming out in short, sharp gasps. You both move together like there is only one body moving. You both have reached your peak now and are moving like machines now. The pace is too much, you calling out to him is too much.
Your breathing is his breath. Your heartbeat is his heartbeat. The pace has built to its peak and it’s pushing you both to the end. Luke is so close to the end now, he is feeling what you’re feeling. You both finally are at the absolute peak of pleasure. You both reach their finale simultaneously. Your bodies shake uncontrollably and his grip is the tightest it has been all night as he lets everything out at once.
He came inside of you, his groaning was the only warning as you felt him shoot up his release.
He nuzzled right up against you, wrapping his arm around your waist. He was still slowly thrusting inside, just warm white liquid started spilling out of you.
Both of their breathing settles down and their bodies relax. Luke is out of his trance now, his breathing is coming out heavy but no longer is it an animalistic growl. He’s calm now, but satisfied. The whole night had been a thrill for him. It was exactly what he wanted: someone to take complete control of him, which he didn’t even know he wanted. His grip around your neck loosens and he pulls away from you.
Luke finally finds himself again. He is looking right into her eyes and his voice is low but soft. He is looking right into her eyes and he gives a small grin. “It’s okay, I got you.” He mumbles, nuzzling his head right into her neck. “Don’t worry.”
He kisses your neck softly again, but his breathing is normal now. He isn’t losing control anymore. He was now just content with your presence. He snuggles closer to you, his voice is soft and the glow of his eyes is different than before. He is relaxed, calm, and content.
“Are you alright?” Luke thought he might’ve been too hard with the choking earlier, but based on your expression, he didn’t really have anything much to worry about.
Luke was content. His body movements were slow and smooth now. He had complete control of himself now. The pace of his thrusts had slowed down but he was still inside of you. His breath was still heavy, but not because it was intense pleasure anymore. It’s just because it was comfortable. The glow in his eyes was not the same as before, his eyes were full of content and pleasure. Instead of intense pleasure, it was more like satisfaction now. His hand was still tight around your waist, and he brought his other hand up to your hand, squeezing it softly.
Luke’s breaths were coming out in slow grunts and he was keeping a pace with no intensity to it whatsoever. It felt more like he was moving in slow motion. The two of you were finally just moving together now as if you were one single person. Neither of you were looking at anything else. Nothing else mattered in this moment but this pleasure you finally felt with each other.
“I’m okay.”
It was as if his body was just flowing smoothly with you. His hand is still tight at your waist and your hand is still holding him tightly. The feeling was a complete mix of pure bliss and complete pleasure. The two of you were enjoying each other’s touch so much that nothing else mattered at all. You were just locked together, moving in an endless rhythm now.
You were still letting out heavy breaths in mere seconds, one after the other. “This is disgusting.” You motioned to the wet damp ground that you both were lying on.
He laughs at you. You both were pretty disgusting. But it’s also somewhat funny that he didn’t care, your whole bodies are soaked and sticky. Luke’s laughs are soft and low now. He lifts up one of his hands to wipe the sweat off of his brow. He looks over at the ground and laughs again as he looks back at you. He lowered himself as he planted a kiss on your forehead, his hands slowly grazing upon your cheek.
“Look at us.” He laughs silently, keeping his voice low. He chuckles a little bit, the two of you are such a mess right now.
Luke laughs a little bit more, it’s funny to him how much of a mess they both are. The ground is totally soaked and sticky as is your body and his. You both are completely covered in your own bodily fluids. It’s quite the scene to take in all at once.
Luke’s laughter dies down slightly, though it’s still somewhat there as he just chuckles at the whole situation. He looks over at you and smiles a small and soft smile at you. He shakes his head slightly, just still finding it funny. The whole scene is just utterly ridiculous and disgusting.
“You think they’ll notice us missing and coming back all sweaty and disgusting?”
He laughs again slightly and his body shakes in amusement. The thought of them both coming back to camp in this state is a funny thought to him. The two of you are covered in your own sweat and fluids, it’s not exactly a pretty sight of the two of you. So much so, that people will notice at first glance.
“Let’s wash up a little by the lake.”
He nods his head. He doesn’t even really feel that sore right now. You really were covered in so much sweat and fluids. The thought of even being around other people makes him feel awkward. Your suggestion is good though, a good old rinse-off is just what you both need right now. He pulls you off of him and sat up.
“Pull up your pants, Castellan,” I commented, looking down at him as I sat up straight, brushing off the debris on my clothes.
He is still lying at your feet. He shakes his head and he nods you off of him. He stands up slowly and he laughs at your comment. His pants actually fell down further and they are hanging around his ankles. He pulls them up and zips them up.
You were being direct, and it cracked him up a little. He is completely covered in yours and now his own juices.
“I feel sticky.”
“You think you feel sticky?” He laughs again and shakes his head. He grabs your hand and he pulls you up off of the floor and holds you close to him. He takes a quick glance around at the surroundings before looking right back at you.
“Let’s find a place where we can wash off.” He says with a smirk on his face. His body is a hot mess and he can feel every bit of it. He didn’t even believe they could get this dirty, but they did. So you need to get cleaned up now, especially before any of the other campers notice the two of you. That would be absolutely horrific.
“Nobody can find out.”
He chuckles again and he nods his head. You were absolutely right about that. Nobody can find out about this, it would be so embarrassing. You both would go down in history as a complete disgrace if anyone found out.
“God, we’re so nasty.” He muttered, leading the way towards the lake.
#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan smut#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x you#luke castellan#luke castellan pjo#pjo#pjo series#percy jackson#pjo fandom#percy jackon and the olympians#charlie bushnell#charlie bushnell x reader#i’m ovulating#i want this man all over me fr#smut#imagine#pjo disney+#pjo tv show
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Hello. Can I ask imagine (or headcannons, if it would be more convenient for you) for Mori Ogai, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol (separately) and their fem!s/o? Their child is jealous of his mother (s/o) to his father and tries to take all the attention of his mother to himself. Please.
“PAPA GET AWAY FROM MAMA!”
— your child being jealous of dazai, fyodor, chuuya, nikolai and kunikida
a/n: I do hope that this is what you wanted and that you like it <;33
DAZAI OSAMU:
dazai never thought he would be bestowed the blessing or the bliss of having a family, but here he is. he has you wrapped in his arms and he is certain that nothing could feel better than this.
however, it is eerily quiet in this household and osamu guesses it’s because the little devil is asleep, the little devil being his son.
his son looks exactly like you, but my god if the kid doesn’t have the same amount of love dazai has for you then dazai doesn’t know what does he have.
the kid never lets him have his time alone with you and for some reason is genuinely upset whenever you and dazai hug or kiss.
that’s why dazai is making the most out of his time today.
he starts pressing kisses to your shoulder, “it’s been a while, right, belladonna?” your fingers find their way through his hair and dazai smiles instantly, “my pretty wife.”
alas, good things don’t last because the both of your are snapped from your sweet moment by the offended and sob-filled screech of your son.
the kid is balling his eyes out at the scene and starts screaming, “GET AWAY FROM MOMMY!”
dazai’s eyes widen; however, before he responds, you push him away and run to your son to coddle him and calm him down.
dazai pouts but lets it go because his son probably needs the hug.
but, what dazai didn’t expect was that his son would grin and stick his tongue out at his dad.
dazai is flabbergasted, but smiles back.
“she was and is my wife before being your mom,” he whispers and winks pointing at the ring on his finger.
your son frowns and simply huffs, assuming that you’re clueless to what the heck is happening while you’re hugging him.
your, petty, husband also believes that this banter would go unnoticed by you so he sticks his tongue out at his son and his son gasps quietly.
well, they’re both equally stupid cause you obviously know, but oh well.
FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY:
never in a million years did he imagine that the person who would challenge him in everything would be his own daughter, his way too smart for a 7 year old, daughter.
today, she saw him hugging you from the back while you were cooking and decided that it’s enough time with you for him.
“father,” she calls out and he hums in response.
“that’s enough time with mom; get away,” she says calmly and he doesn’t look at her and instead tightens his hold on you and whispers, “milaya, you look breathtaking, today.”
you shake your head with a smile and a small, rare chuckle escapes fyodor.
“father, please distance yourself from mother,” she says one last time, patience running out.
fyodor looks at her, “and if I don’t, dear?”
she blinks up at him then kicks him in the shins. he staggers, surprising both himself and you. he looks at his daughter with a frown, “how courageous of you, my dear daughter.”
“cry me a river; we agreed that we each get one hour with mom!” and there comes out the you in her. she smiles the moment you pat her head, signaling for her to go wait for you at the couch.
she bolts there and leaves you and your husband to be. fyodor finally stands up and looks at you with a barely visible pout that has increased in appearances since you gave birth to your dear daughter, “y/n.”
“yes, fedya?”
“our daughter kicked me in the shins.”
you raise an eyebrow, “and you didn’t guess she would?”
“of course, I did,” he looks at her, and somehow your husband who often is known for his intelligence seems like some jealous baby, “but I thought she wouldn’t do it in front of you, at least.”
“well, I didn’t see anything,” you sing and he smirks lightly.
“teaming up on me, are you?”
you shrug, “how can I ever?”
“what a cruel wife you are,” he mumbles right beside your ear and you merely roll your eyes.
NAKAHARA CHUUYA:
sometimes, you feel like you’re a rope being tugged between your son and husband. they are both equally possessive and both have quite the tempers and you have to act like the peace keeper most of the time.
today was no different; however, you have decided to simply watch from the sidelines this time.
“dad! I am gonna marry mom! don’t fight me about it!” your son says confidently.
your husband feels a vein pop, “you little— you can’t marry her! she’s already married to me!”
“no she isn’t!”
“yes she is!”
“what’s your proof?” your son says with a smirk that he definitely inherited from his father, but who’s counting.
your husband narrows his eyes at him and huffs and goes to your shared bedroom. your son giggles and runs towards you, “finally! mom, can I have a hug please?”
you open your arms and your son wastes no time jumping into your embrace making you smile and pat his back. you’re kind of surprised that chuuya didn’t fight back as hard today; maybe you guessed today’s outcome wrong—
you’re quickly proven to have indeed guessed it right as your chuuya appears in all his glory holding your wedding photo, the marriage certificate, and proudly showing off his ring.
your son’s eyes widen, “what is this?”
“the proof that me and y/n are married,” he replied smugly and you sigh.
“w-well, she doesn’t have the same ring as yours!” your son stammers and your husband simply smirks and points at your left hand.
you’ve never heard your son screech so loudly in all his 6 years of living as his eyes lay on your ring.
he jumps away from you, clutching his heart, “mom, what is the meaning of this?!”
“of what exactly?”
“YOU’RE MARRIED TO DAD??” he gasps and you chuckle lightly because if you were to roll your eyes then this house will be turned into ruins.
“honey, I had to marry dad so we can have you,” you smile and chuuya looks as offended as your son.
“HAD TO??”
you side-eye him and he quickly zips his mouth shut and looks away but not without grumbling a couple of curses.
“but that means that I can’t marry you cause you’re already married,” your son says defeatedly as he sits on the floor.
“EXACTLY SO LET US BE!” your husband shouts confidently.
tears well up in your son’s eyes and he bursts into a wail that has your house flooding in a couple of seconds.
you simply look at chuuya, “way to go my dear husband.”
KUNIKIDA DOPPO:
most of the time, your daughter was a daddy’s girl. she always listens to him and a grin is automatically plastered on her face once she sees him.
you can never blame her though cause you have the same reaction whenever you see your lovely husband.
your daughter turned out to be an exact copy of you and both of you share the insane amount of love you have for kunikida.
but there are times where your daughter just wants time with her mama not her dad.
for example, today, you and kunikida were cuddling in the bed, slowly drifting off to sleep. his arms are wrapped around you as he strokes your hair and you feel him press a kiss to your forehead making you nuzzle into his chest.
you feel him smile and you close your eyes to welcome sleep, but you hear a couple of knocks on the door.
your husband sighs softly before sitting up and putting his glasses on, “come in, d/n.”
she slowly opens the door and peaks in, “sorry pa.”
he adjusts his glasses and shakes his head with a smile, “it’s okay; did you have a nightmare?”
she nods softly and perks up at her dad patting the bed. she walks to you two and climbs up the bed, which is quite the travail for her.
most of the time, when she has a nightmare, she squeezes herself between you both to have ‘best of both worlds’ as you say.
so kunikida expects her to sleep between you both like usual, but instead she pushes him away, albeit gently, and sleeps right next you —where he once was— and cuddles close to you.
you pat her head and pull her closer with a smile.
you look up at your husband who had his spot taken from him and giggle at the sight of his small pout.
kunikida watches you guys cuddle and then decides to just lay back down and simply wrap his arms around both of you at the same time. he didn’t train all of that time for nothing.
your daughter whines jokingly, “paaa, I want to be with mom.”
he raises an eyebrow, “is that so?”
she nods and starts squealing and laughing when her father squeezes you guys in a tight hug. both your laughters fill the room and kunikida smiles before saying, “do you not want papa anymore?”
“no no! I want you; please mercy!” she pleads making both you and kunikida chuckle before he finally relaxes his hold and kisses both your and her cheek and the three of you finally succumb to sleep.
NIKOLAI GOGOL:
“quiz time! guess who had his share of y/n today?”
you deadpan, “kolya, I am not a pie.”
“well, you’re certainly as sweet as one,” your husband grins, but both you and your son just gag at the terrible pick up line.
you’ve long got used to his theatrics, after all. your son, though, calls bs on everything his dad does.
“not me,” your son replied with a grin and holds you tighter, sticking his tongue out at nikolai.
“AHAHA! you’re as funny as me, s/n,” nikolai cackles, and you’re sure he is keen on throwing your son off of you any time now.
“but dad, I can’t be funny as you,” your son says dejectedly and nikolai’s eyebrow rises.
“why is that?”
your son smiles, a closed eye smile, before replying, “you’re not funny at all; that’s an insult to me.”
nikolai doesn’t say anything as he pulls your screaming son off you, after quite the struggle.
he walks to the garden and throws him there, “go play with a frog or something; I will have y/n all to myself for the rest of the day. thank you!”
your husband smiles victoriously and is about to throw himself into your embrace until his son reappears right beside you and the boy has a frown that only means one thing.
chaos is about to ensue.
your son starts throwing a tantrum and yelling, “I WANT TO CUDDLE MOM!!”
“no can do, young man,” your husband says shaking his head, “you already got your fair share of mama per the agreement.”
“what agreement?” your son asks, tears still streaming down his face.
your husband puts his hand in his coat and gets out a contract.
the contract reads that your son will only have 2 hours of your attention and time while your husband gets the rest.
“b-but these types of papers need to have signatures of both sides!”
your husband giggles, “your signature is right here, my dear son.”
your son gasps but quickly composed himself.
“oh whatever shall you do now? I rightfully deserve all of y/n’s time—AHHHHH WHAT THE HELL?!”
you come back —after leaving to get yourself a cup of coffee cause this is way too much for you— and find that your son has effectively set the contract on fire.
taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudssimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @waosobii
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Sparring Matches
Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Summary: The BAU undergoes PT evaluations, that includes sparring matches. And in the ring will be the secret couple, tipping off the rest of the team.
Warnings: Canon level violence secret relationship, slight suggestive language
Word Count: 2.7k
Masterlist
The BAU were all sat in the bullpen trying to get work done when their Unit Chief, and Y/N’s secret boyfriend, walked out of his office, overseeing his team. “I have some bad news,” he announced, catching everyone’s attention.
“Another case?” Rossi guessed, coming out of his own office.
“No, the new Section Chief wants us to perform physical evaluations.” That earned groans from Spencer and Garcia. Meanwhile Derek and Emily were already placing bets about how each other would perform in each activity.
“But we haven’t had to do physical training in years because of field hours!” Reid protested.
Internally Aaron chucked at the doctor’s childlike protest, reminding him of Jack when he didn’t want to do something. “I’m sorry but he’s insistent and won’t be allowing waivers for any of you… except Rossi as well as Garcia because she’s never in the field.”
“Whoo!” she cheered, earning another groan from Spencer.
“And due to a recent incident… we will also be evaluated in hand to hand combat.” Everyone on the team turned to look at Y/N.
“He snuck up on me!” she defended for the millionth time. “I still beat him.”
“Still got a broken rib out of it,” Derek informed tauntingly.
“You’re one to talk,” she scoffed. “You throw yourself through doors even if they’re unlocked.”
“Oh yeah? We’ll see who fairs better in the ring.”
Before Y/N could get another jab in her boyfriend spoke. “Seeing as we are one of the most hands on units the Section Leader wants us to compete with each other so he can get an idea of our capabilities and because we are the most evenly matched. Thank you,” he dismissed, promptly walking back into his office so he didn’t have to witness anymore bickering. As much as Aaron loved the team, especially Y/N, he didn’t enjoy their bickering for prolonged periods of time.
Later that night at home, Aaron and Y/N were discussing the upcoming PT tests. “Why does he want us to fight each other?” she asked, plating their dinners.
“He said that based on reports we end up in physical combat a little too often,” he answered, setting the table. “He said that if we struggle too much then he’ll make it mandatory for us to have SWAT more often and no one will be allowed to move in on an unsub without SWAT presence.”
“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” Y/N cried, carrying over the food. “Stupid bureaucrats thinking their ideas are god’s gift to the FBI without even being in the field within the past five years.”
Aaron chucked, taking his seat across from her. “Well an evaluation isn’t too bad of an idea considering…” his voice trailed off as both recalled the weeks Y/N spent lying in bed waiting for her rib to mend itself enough so she could walk.
Y/N blushed, always getting intensely embarrassed whenever anyone brought that up. “He was twice my size and snuck up on me. And then I still managed to pin him with a broken rib,” she pointed out.
“Yes you did,” Aaron agreed, admiring her scowl.
“So do you know who will be fighting who?”
“Yes, it’s a mix of someone you’re fairly evenly matched with and someone who’s very different. You and Prentiss will spar, as will JJ and Reid, then I’ll be against Morgan. As for the opposites I believe it will be Prentiss and Reid, JJ and Morgan, and then you and I?”
“You and I will spar?”
“Yes, don’t worry I won’t blindside you,” he chuckled.
“Oh I’m not worried about that,” she smirked coyly. “I’m a bit younger than you, a bit more spry if you will.”
“Well I don’t know that I can call you younger considering you just used the word ‘spry.’ Besides it’s not a competition.”
“Sure,” she hummed sarcastically.
That only egged on the normally cool Unit Chief. He put his utensils down, forgetting his meal before hardening his expression. The same look he gave the team when he needed them to stop behaving like children, causing Y/N to squirm. “I guarantee you I’ll have you pinned by the end of it. I’ve never had difficulty pinning you before.” Y/N choked on the sip of wine she was drinking at that comment. Before she could say anything her boyfriend was at her side with a napkin. “Be careful, Y/N,” he said slyly, bringing the napkin under her chin. She stared at him in disbelief at his ostentatiousness as he backed away, trailing the napkin across her skin with a smirk.
~
After a week of intense sexual tension it was sparring day. Everyone was stretching in the FBI wrestling room except for Spencer who looked like he’d pass out. “Don’t worry Spence, I’ll go easy on you tomorrow,” Emily smirked.
He looked dissatisfied but took it with a sarcastic “Thanks.”
JJ and Spencer were the first to get in the circle but as soon as the whistle blew and JJ started advancing at him he dropped to the ground. “I yield,” he pled, raising his hands.
“C’mon pretty boy, you gotta do better than that,” Derek called. But Reid was completely unwilling to fight if there was no real danger so JJ was declared the winner.
Next up were Y/N and Emily. “Be careful, Y/N. I’m kind of infamous for hand to hand combat,” Emily bragged.
“I was a marine for four years,” Y/N shrugged arrogantly.
“Whoo girl fight,” Derek jeered from the sidelines.
“Shut up, Derek,” both women called, not moving their gazes from each other.
Also from the sidelines Aaron was resisting the urge to tell Prentiss to go easy on Y/N. Not only would it infuriate Y/N, it would clue the team into their relationship. Hiding a relationship from profilers was difficult but so far Aaron felt that they had managed. As the whistle was blown, Aaron watched in mild horror, keeping his expression hardened, as his girlfriend fought another very highly trained FBI agent.
Derek and Reid came to their boss’ side. “My money’s on Prentiss, she’s stronger,” Derek bet.
Aaron stayed silent, worried he’d betray some sensitive information while being so focused on the fight. Fortunately for him, Reid chimed in with his analysis. “While Emily was a part of Interpol, a very specialized group of agents, Y/N’s younger and more agile. Her training in the marines, while not having as much focus on hand to hand combat, will help her and I’d argue makes her stronger than Emily considering the amount of carbo loading they do.”
Before Morgan could disagree Aaron watched as Y/N pinned Prentiss by literally sitting on her back and pulling Emily’s arm behind her back up in the air. When the whistle blew, declaring Y/N the winner she simply stood up, helped her teammate stand, and went to the bench for her water bottle without a word, not wanting to humiliate her teammate anymore.
Next it was Aaron and Derek stepping onto the mat. Y/N watched them with unwavering eyes, hoping her expression wasn’t too worried. Aaron was tough, he got into more than his fair share of scraps with unsubs and he was still strong and fit. But Derek was well… Derek. He practically lived at the gym when we weren’t on missions and had the most takedowns on the team, preferring to throw himself at the unsub rather than shoot.
Y/N forced herself to look away from the mat, turning her attention to JJ who was approaching. “This should be interesting,” she commented, observing the flurry of fists.
Y/N hummed in agreement, busying herself with the objects in her bag. “Yeah but Derek’s got him. Hotch is tough but Derek’s favorite pastime is taking down unsubs.” Looking up Y/N couldn’t help but cringe as Derek landed a punch on Aaron’s face but he took it like a champ, barely even flinching before pushing Derek back.
The match was long and bitter but it ended with Morgan pinning his boss to the mat. Both were exhausted with labored breaths as the whistle blew. The second it did, Derek moved off of Aaron, sitting at his side trying to catch his breath. Emily went over to Morgan, leaving Y/N the opportunity to go over to her boyfriend without making it too obvious.
“C’mon,” she said as casually as possible, helping him off the mat. Helping him over to the bench she brought him his water bottle, as did Emily for Morgan.
“We’ll continue onto the next portion tomorrow,” the ref informed us before taking his leave.
At Aaron’s house, Y/N was trying to treat his cuts and bruises as best she could. “Are you sure you’re up to sparring tomorrow?” she asked, placing an ice pack against his bruised jaw.
“I’m fine, just some superficial cuts and bruises,” he dismissed.
“Still that was pretty brutal, I could hardly watch.”
Aaron took the cold compress she had been using on him earlier, pressing it to her visibly bruised collarbone. “Was hard to watch you too,” he murmured, feeling a little embarrassed about being so sentimental and protective.
Y/N smiled softly, trying her best to hide it so her boyfriend wouldn’t get too embarrassed. “Let’s get you to bed,” she suggested, helping him up. “This is the longest we’ve gone without a case in a while. You should enjoy it.”
“By sleeping?”
“Yes, sleep is one of my favorite things.”
~
By the next morning Aaron’s face was mostly healed and it was time for the other sparring matches. First up: JJ and Morgan.
While JJ was far more agile and quicker than Derek, all it took was him getting a grip on her and she was pinned.
Next up were Reid and Prentiss. Spencer didn’t immediately collapse but after she swept his leg he never got back up.
And finally it was the two secret lovers. “Don’t worry, L/N, I won’t blindside you,” Aaron smirked just like he did when he first told her they’d be fighting. This was also the first instance of teasing the team had ever seen from their stoic boss.
“You couldn’t move fast enough,” Y/N sneered in return.
With the blow of the whistle both advanced, trying to gain the upper hand. As Aaron tried to grab Y/N she dropped down, kicking him in the legs. It wasn’t enough to knock him down though, only sending him stumbling a few steps. As Y/N was scrambling up, Aaron had already regained his footing. Approaching her again he grabbed her wrist giving him the opportunity to punch her in the face but he hesitated, not wanting to hit a woman much less the woman he loved. His hesitation gave her enough time to twist her arm from his grip. Taking the opportunity once again, she kicked at his legs, sending him sprawling on the ground. She then straddled his abdomen, smirking in victory. But Aaron wasn’t done yet, easily flipped her so now she laid on the mat with him straddling her hips. He watched in amusement as her eyes widened in shock and she tried to struggle free but it was no use seeing as Aaron was twice her size.
The whistle blew again bringing both back to the present. Keenly aware of the position they were in in front of the entire team, Aaron immediately scrambled up onto his feet. Reaching a friendly, professional hand down, he helped Y/N up. “Good match,” he said awkwardly before scurrying off to the bench where his water bottle sat.
Y/N took a second to catch her breath, trying to figure out what would be the least awkward and obvious next move. Fortunately for her, JJ was already bringing her her water bottle. “Thanks,” she wheezed.
“Yeah, how’re you feeling?” JJ sympathized, also just having taken a bit of a beating.
“Aside from having the wind knocked out of me? Fine. I’ll just need a few minutes,” Y/N coughed out.
On the other side of the gym Derek had the biggest grin on his face, very much enjoying teasing his boss. “That was quite the match. Interesting method of pinning L/N.”
Hotch was trying to quickly think of a way to dismiss Morgan without drawing too much attention to him and Y/N. So he just gave him the stern Unit Chief look that instantly shut everyone up. “That’s not appropriate,” was all he said before exiting towards the locker rooms, eager to be back in the safe authority of his suits.
On his way out it took most of his willpower not to think too much about the way he had his girlfriend pinned.
~
The sound of Aaron’s ringtone jolted the two FBI agents up. Aaron grabbed the phone from his nightstand, keeping an arm wrapped around Y/N as she pulled the sheets tighter, cuddling into his chest. She let out a soft groan at being woken up as Aaron answered it. “Hello?” he answered in his groggy morning voice. After a few seconds of muffled information from Garcia he spoke again. “Okay call the rest of the team. I’ll be right there.”
“Another case?” Y/N asked, not even thinking.
“Yeah, sounds like a serial killer in SoHo,” Aaron informed as he hung up. Realizing what just happened he cursed. “Shit.”
“What?” Y/N asked, still gaining her bearings.
“I hadn’t hung up yet.”
“Shit,” Y/N cursed as well. “Okay it’s fine, if anyone says anything you fell asleep on the couch with Jack.”
“Yeah, okay,” Aaron agreed beginning to get dressed in the dark.
Y/N’s phone then went off. “Hello?” she answered, already knowing who would be on the other line.
“Good news, we’re going to New York City, bad news there’s a serial killer,” Penelope announced.
“Okay, I’ll-”
“Ow!” Aaron deep yell and a crash cut Y/N off.
“Was that Hotch?” Penelope gasped in shock.
“No!” Y/N answered too quickly. “Uh no,” she tried to answer more nonchalantly, “it was a guy but definitely not Hotch.” She cringed at her words.
“Ooh details,” Garcia begged.
“Another time,” she promised. “I have to get dressed. See you in 15.” And with that she hung up. She groaned, throwing herself back onto the pillows. “They’re definitely going to figure it out. I don’t have my car and I live on the other side of town we won’t make it.”
“We’ll walk in a few minutes separated. We still have plausible deniability,” Aaron tried to soothe Y/N. “It’ll be fine.”
“You’re surprisingly calm about this,” she observed, getting up to find her clothes.
“Would it be such a bad thing if they found out?” he asked shyly.
“No,” she answered, “not the team. I worry about the Section Chief and others.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it if I have to,” Aaron promised, wrapping his girlfriend in his arms before pressing a kiss to her temple.
Once they pulled into one of the far parking lots, the couple scoped out the other cars as best they could from their seats. “I think we’re good,” Y/N informed. “Follow me in like 3 minutes later?”
Aaron nodded as Y/N opened her door but the second she opened the door, Derek’s car pulled up with Garcia in the passenger seat. “I knew that was Hotch’s voice!” she yelled.
The couple groaned. “Not a word to anyone outside the team, got it?” Y/N immediately demanded.
“Of course, of course,” Derek promised.
“When did you know?” Aaron asked.
“We all had our suspicions but we knew during your sparring match. You were way too comfortable sitting on top of each other. And then my lovely Ms. Garcia’s phone calls confirmed you spent the night together,” Derek smirked.
Meanwhile Garcia was already group calling Emily, Spencer, JJ, and Rossi. “Hotch and L/N confirmed,” she squealed.
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you think miguel would have a positive reaction when he finds out you like him?
i’d like to think he’d be sooo awkward about it lmao. also not knowing how to react (+doesn’t even believe it)
-
he’s never had any real relationships before (unless with one many years ago) , maybe few flings here and there but it was never that serious. talking to people has never been his forte, that man is too fucking stoic that others would basically mistaken him as a rock. he holds too much of serious conversations and never know how to let things go, so to some, that could be an ultimate deal breaker.
there had been times where he got hit on multiple times, and he always brushed them off by saying ‘beat it’
he’s never willing to try again. not like he needed to anyway. his mind is already occupied with work.
but then came along you.
you with your pretty eyes,pretty hair, cute bubbly personality and flirty persona that got everyone hooked. he’s seen how you interact with others and he hates it. because you’re so distracting that it would make the others lose focus and he doesn’t appreciate that. he hates it.
or maybe the reason he hates it so much it’s the fact that you always flirt with Ben and call him ‘puddin.’ always running up to him and give him a hug—sometimes he’d see you wrap your legs around him too.
why would you do that? don’t you know that he fucking. hates it?
why would you ever create a nickname only for Ben? what about the others? why not him? why not Miguel?
do you like Ben?
Miguel doesn’t even know why it bothers him, but it does keep him up at night. he doesn’t like you, does he? you two barely talked and even when you do talk it’s mainly work matters. he refuses to like you.
“you’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?”
Lyla’s playful voice snaps him out of his train of thoughts as he quickly remains his posture,
Miguel clears his throat. “don’t know what you’re talking about.” his brows furrowing as his eyes remain focus on his computer screen,
“oh come on, you’re not fooling anybody. i can see the way you look at her when she’s talking or laughing. you’ve got heart eyes, my man.” Lyla teases, smirking lightly. “and i also remember correctly how you almost smash a laptop towards Ben when you saw him with her at the cafeteria and you gave him a ‘pep talk’?”
“because it wasn’t professional. this is not a place where two coworkers can flirt with each other as they please.” he responds lamely, knowing that is not a good enough excuse for Lyla to believe. she’s smarter than that.
“one. i didn’t say anything about them flirting. two. Ben came out of your office shaking and refused to talk to anyone for days! you’re crazy you know that?”
Miguel rolls his eyes, waving his hand over. “get back to work Lyla.”
“you like her.”
“no i don’t” he lies, gulping slightly. see that’s the thing about him. when he lies, he gets nervous. and Lyla can see that crystal clear.
“oh my god you totally do! i knew my instincts never wrong. Jess thought the same too”
“what the—“
“you know, usually? when a guy likes someone he’d ask the girl out. Not being a creep about it and threaten almost everyone at work to stay away from her.”
“i do not. like her” he emphasizes quite heavily, pinching between his forehead with his finger and thumb. “this is not important Lyla, we’ve got better things to do.”
as she about to say what a bad liar he is, she sees a silhouette of a woman walking into the office. you’re entering the room with a smile on your face and give Lyla a small wave as she returns one,
“speak of the angel herself. gotta go!” Lyla cheery voice causing him to whip his head. “Good luck!”
“wait what?! Lyla! Don’t—“ his voice gets cut off once the hologram disappears, groaning afterwards.
he hears your footsteps getting closer but he tries to keep his composure and not acknowledge you. perhaps he’s being an asshole but hey, what else is new?
“ouch. never met someone who’s very unhappy to see me. you’re definitely the first.” you pout pretending to be hurt, taking few steps closer to where he’s at,
he ignores your comment as he keeps his eyes fixated on the screen. “I’m working. what do you need?”
“just stopping by. it’s getting pretty boring out there you know? Miles is nowhere to be seen, Peter is busy with Mayday, Gwen is catching up with Jess and Hobie— i don’t even want to begin. Thought I’d come and see you.”
his heart definitely isn’t beating hard. definitely not.
“aren’t you usually with Ben? i see the two of you always talking in the hallways. why not go to him?”
you groan, throwing your head back as you start walking around. “ugh! all he talks about is muscles and protein sources! not to mention he never skips flexing. he’s got penis for brain, i don’t why you hired that guy. such a Ken doll.”
Miguel is glad that you aren’t facing him. because you manage to bring a small smile to his face with that comment. you’d never gonna let that one go if you see him smiling.
“well he’s good. he’s a great partner. better than Peter, I’d say. no reason to kick him off.”
“oh I’ll kick him alright” you roll your eyes as if it’s the obvious thing and you miss how miguel tries to hold back his laughter. he likes how feisty you get sometimes,
“have you—eaten already?” miguel awkwardly tries to start a conversation once he realizes the two of you sit there in silence for fifteen minutes. he must’ve think that you’re waiting for him to say something,
your lips curve into a small smirk as you watch how adorable he gets when he’s nervous. scratching the back of his head and trying his best to avoid an eye contact. it’s easy to tell how you make him shrink like a little kid crushing on his classmate.
yeah, Jess and Lyla told you everything. so this would be fun
“nope” you shake your head, rolling the chair closer in front of him as you slightly move forward. you admire the way his eyes stare intently into something, how his lower lip poke out in concentration and the way his thick brows knitted together making it impossible for you to stay sane.
does he know he’s handsome as fuck? and sexy too? his rough image and demeanor maybe look a bit intimidating to some but to you?
biggest turn on.
“why, you wanna take me out to lunch or something?”
he chokes at that, eyes finally looking up to you as he sees the playful smile on your face and the way your head tilt to the side. as if you’re teasing him,
“no. it was just a simple question.” he replies boringly. “why haven’t you eaten yet? it’s almost three. quieres enfermarte?”
“well” you start, moving slowly towards his side with him watching you like a hawk, eyeing every move. “i’m actually waiting for you to buy me lunch. there’s a new Asian cuisine in the cafeteria called beef rendang… i think? and boy it smells so good! why don’t we go together? plus you need a fucking break, man. you’ve been at this shit for hours.”
miguel is both surprised and confused. why the sudden invitation? why are you even talking to him? he lightly scoffs at how bold you are but he will never admit how much he likes it,
“why are you suddenly taken an interest in talking to me?”
“what are you talking about?” you ask playing dumb, looping a finger around the belt hole of your flared jeans. “I’ve always been interested.”
his heart skips at that. and he has no idea if you meant it or actually joking.
he says nothing only a hum. you assume that he’s disappointed with your answer because it isn’t specific. so you decide to continue,
leaning your body forward, you’re close enough to invade his personal space as you pretend to whisper a dark secret. “because i like you. like—like you like you. isn’t it obvious?”the answer is simple. pretty straightforward and you guess that he doesn’t get that often because of how he reacts.
he halts. beautiful eyes widen in surprise as he slowly turns to you who wears the opposite expression. a wide smile painted on your glossed lips, legs swinging back and forth—he admits that you look cute doing that—blinking your eyes rapidly in flirty manner.
you’re the only person who can make him weak on his knees. everyone can see that.
“what?”
“what?”
“what you just said.” he points, now his work left abandoned. deciding to focus on you. “did you mean it?”
“every word.”
“are you sure?”
“why is it so hard for you to believe me?” you ask out of curiosity. brows furrowed as your arms crossed,
“nothing it’s just—“he scratches his head, looking down because he’s afraid if he looks into your eyes he’d form into a puddle. “you were never—you never said anything, carińo. i didn’t even think you like me.”
you nod, crossing your legs. “I’m just gonna ignore how you call me that unless you want me to get down on my knees and give you the best fucking head you will ever have.”
for what it’s like a hundredth time, he blushes at your choice of words. God, you have no filter at all.
“how could i say something when all you do is talk serious shit all the time? can’t even joke with you Miguel. people are basically scared of you. hell! even I’m terrified of you.” you confess,
“is that why you never—call me names?”
“what, a dick? or an ass?”
“no!” he exclaims, sounding offended. wondering if that what you must have thought of him back then. “i mean—you never give me a nickname—only with Ben” he mutters, feeling embarrassed of having to admit that out loud,
you scrunch your nose. “puddin? why is that even—ohhh” a sudden realization hit you and that’s where you laugh, throwing your head back and Miguel looks irritated at the fact you’re laughing,
“something funny?”
you nod your head vigorously, still laughing a bit as you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye. “Jess and Lyla are sooo right. you’re jealous.”
“i’m not!”
“hmm yes you are.” you giggle, seeing how his lips form into a pout and the skin between his eyebrows wrinkled. “that’s cute though. i promise not to tell anyone.”
he huffs, but internally relieved that you’re keeping your mouth shut. he will never hear the end of it by anyone if that one gets out.
“so..” he trails, releasing a small sigh. “you.. like me..?”
once again you nod, “i do.”
“g-good cause uh—i kinda like you too.”
“kinda?” you pretend to get hurt, hand over your heart. “is that all?! I’m quite offended! i poured my heart out to you!”
“ay, bueno listo! a lot! i like you—a lot.” he finally confesses, leg bouncing up and down due to nerves. “i just don’t how to say it or at least—act like it.”
“i can see that. you’re horrible at showing emotions except for anger, Miguel.” you reply, standing from your seat as you extend your hand to him. "but don't worry. i'll show you how to love. now come on."
he quirks an eyebrow, giving you an questioning look. "what are you doing?"
"uhm, getting some food? i'm starved. and you're coming with me. you have to eat something" a smile reaches your lips as he begins to mirror your expression while placing his hand on yours before standing up as well. you like how he towers over you. he’s a freakishly large man
“okay. i’d like that actually, querida.”
you give him a toothy grin. both of your hands are intertwined as the two of you walk towards the exist. you sense Miguel feeling awkward about the hand holding thing so you decide to ease his nerves by rubbing your thumb slightly against his skin.
“oh and also. you shall worry not a single thing about the whole nickname thing. you can choose what you like to be called by me and it’s all yours.”
-
a/n: this turned into a long ass fic im sorry lol
also does this one make sense? i feel like it’s rushed:// nevertheless hope you enjoy!
[i would let this man tear my pu—*phone drops*]
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BACK TOGETHER
A/N: okayyyy another little steve fic bc yall really loved my prev one!
PAIRING: Steve Harrington x Reader
WORD COUNT: 1.1k
WARNING: season 4 spoiler!!!
SUMMARY: You and Steve broke up not long ago, but watching over Max in the night brings the two of you back together.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
The gang is now stationed in the Wheelers’ basement once again. After what happened to Max in the cemetery you’re guarding her nonstop, there’s always someone watching her, checking that she is still listening to the music and hasn’t gone into trance again. It’s one in the morning and you’re the chosen one to keep an eye on her, but Steve has decided to join you.
It’s been a bit weird, hanging out with Steve so much even though the two of you broke up just a few weeks ago. You haven’t spoken much, but the recent happenings with Vecna brought the old gang together so now you’re forced to be around each other again. The breakup happened after a stupid, but pretty intense fight you had, it started because you’ve had enough of Steve always hanging out with Robin and even though you know Robin is playing on a different team, it’s still pretty annoying when you can’t make plans with your boyfriend because he already has something going on with Robin.
He accused you of being jealous for no reason and you told him he is a child and it ended with a screaming match and the two of you parted ways after breaking up. One year of relationship ended in such a ridiculous way, you almost kind of feel embarrassed.
“You’re not hearing any clock dinging, right?” Steve asks, breaking the silence since everyone around you is asleep.
“Wait, you don’t hear it?” you ask with a dead serious face and watch as his expression falls completely. “I’m just kidding,” you add quickly.
“It’s not funny, Y/N, not after what happened to Max!” he tells you off, but you still find it a bit comical. He should know you well enough to know you’d have already told them if Vecna was after you.
“Sorry, just trying to stay awake,” you yawn, taking a glance at Max who is seemingly still perfectly fine.
“Go to sleep, I can take over your shift,” he offers.
“No need to play the hero, Steve.”
“I’m not… I’m just trying to be nice,” he rolls his eyes.
“We’re not together anymore, so you don’t have to go out of your way to be nice to me, though you didn’t quite do it before either.”
Your comment comes out a bit spicier than you intended, but you also think it’s true. It’s too late to act nice now, he should have cared about you when you expected it from him.
“Y/N, maybe we should talk about that,” he sighs, running a hand through his ridiculously good hair. How does he look this good even in the middle of what feels like another apocalypse?
“About what exactly? That we broke up or that you said I was jealous or that you spent more time with Robin than your own girlfriend?”
“God, I almost forgot how hot you are when you give me an attitude.”
“And you’re such a child,” you roll your eyes and attempt to get up from beside him, but he grabs your hand and pulls you back.
“I’m sorry! Please, I want to apologize!”
“About wha–”
“Everything, Y/N,” he groans, already knowing what you wanted to ask. “You were right and I was an ass. I just always thought you would find someone better than me at college so I convinced myself you don’t need me and I didn’t want to need you either.”
His confession surprises you, he never told you he was having second guesses and you would have reacted differently if only he told you the truth.
“Steve, I’m staying in Hawkins instead of applying to schools out of state. I made this decision because of you. Do you think I would just drop you for some other guy?”
“I don’t know, I thought about that, yes,” he replies with a shrug, but it’s obvious he is struggling inside.
“You’re an idiot, Steve. That’s what you are,” you sigh.
“Well, at least we agree about that. I really am an idiot, because I lost the best girl in town.”
Silence falls on you, it’s heavy and says a lot. You want to tell him you still love him, that you still want to be with him, but you want him to take this step, to tell you he wants to give your relationship another go. But you know it can take some time for Steve to figure out, to decode the signs you send him.
“What song would you play to bring me back?” you ask to keep the conversation going. His eyebrows rise as he looks at you with a tiny smile as he thinks about his answer.
“Something from Duran Duran, it’s your favorite, right?” he smirks as you gape at him.
“You ass, that’s your favorite!” Steve starts laughing and you can’t hold it back either as you smack him in the chest.
“Cyndi Lauper Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. You played it every morning last year when we drove to school,” he then says and it’s the correct answer, it’s definitely your favorite song at the moment. “Though I’m a bit hurt that your favorite song is not related to me,” he adds.
“But it is.”
“What?” he furrows his eyebrows at you.
“It was playing on the radio when you picked me up on our first date,” you tell him. “I took it as a sign.”
“That it was gonna be a good date?”
“That Steve Harrington is not as big of a douchebag people say him to be,” you tease him smirking. “And I was right. He is a pretty good guy. He just… gets lost sometimes, forgets that I love him a lot and I don’t want other men when I have him.”
He looks at you with those puppy eyes, his ridiculously curly eyelashes framing them perfectly and all your anger and disappointment is now gone. You just want your boyfriend back. Luckily, Steve reads the situation as well and he knows this is his chance to get you back.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I was a shitty boyfriend, but if you gave me another chance I would do everything to make you happy.”
“What took you so long?” you sigh with a soft smile before leaning in and pressing your lips against his.
You missed his lips, his kisses, his touches, the way he cups your face when he deepens the kiss. For a moment you’re not in the Wheelers’ basement, but in a safe place somewhere far away from the madness in Hawkins.
“It’s so nice you two just got back together, but you’re supposed to be watching Max.”
Dustin’s voice snaps you out of your little bubble and pulling away from Steve you see him sitting up, his eyes puffy and barely open as he watches the two of you.
“Henderson, you just know exactly when to open your mouth, huh?” Steve sighs and the kid in question just smirks and shrugs before lying back down and Steve doesn’t hesitate before pulling you closer to continue from where you left it before Dustin’s interruption.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
#steve harrington#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things#stranger things season 4#stranger things spoiler#stranger things season 4 spoiler#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington one shot
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Or: a pirate au
-
Before having the nerve to turn Roier in to the Navy, Spreen had this to say:
“I have no compassion for anybody.”
And then he had leaned forward and driven both the metaphorical and literal-actual-goddamn sword in between Roier’s ribs, and he had whispered right into Roier’s ringing ear:
“You’re lucky I’m not drowning you.”
And then he had kicked Roier off of his ship and onto the Navy’s, and he had sailed away, free to live and fight another day while leaving his best friend and first mate behind.
But, well. Joke’s on him! It’s been a year since that fateful day, but Roier is alive, and he’s free, and he’s got a gun and a sword and a ship of his own, and he’s gonna make Spreen pay.
But first? Breakfast, and fast. The Navy is after him, and he doesn’t want to get captured this early in the morning. (Foolish would never let it go!)
The Barcoier docks just after sunrise, and Roier is off the ship and speeding down the pier before Jaiden even has the anchor weighed.
The island is small, so small that it’s just a town and some farms and a couple of trees and a single lake smack in the center of it all. It’s so small it doesn’t even have a name, but that just makes it all the better for hiding from the Navy on; if it’s too small to be on a map, it’s too small for those idiots with the Navy to pick up on.
Maybe Roier is a bad pirate captain for leaving his crew to tie up the ship and run errands while he gets everyone breakfast and tries not to get arrested. But also:
(“We need a chef,” Jaiden complains. “No offense, dude, but your cooking sucks.”
Roier sniffs, hurt, but he doesn’t argue. He’s a better chef on land than he is on the water.
“I’ll get us a chef,” he promises. “But only if you-” He pokes Jaiden between the eyes with a corner of his hardtack biscuit. “-get us better food! Nobody can cook with this!”
He smacks his biscuit hard enough against the table to crack it [the table.] Jaiden rolls her eyes, but she shrugs.)
Where there’s a good breakfast, there’s a good chef. And, on an island as tiny as this one is, said chef might just be desperate enough for a change of pace that they’d agree to become a pirate. (It’s how Spreen got Roier, after all.)
How hard can it be?
…Really hard, actually, especially now that the Federation and its Navy are starting to crack down extra hard on pirates. They’ve moved on from life imprisonment to public executions, and all because most of the pirates left on the seas have started to unionize under the guidance of the feared Captain Bad Halo.
But, who knows? Maybe today will be the day!
Maybe…
-
The town’s only restaurant is closed for renovations, but the town’s bakery is open, thank God.
The bakery, much like the town it’s based in, doesn’t have a name. It does, however, have a wooden sign hanging above the door with a donut painted on it. The donut’s center, rather than being a hole, is a bright yellow-irised eyeball. Freaky.
The door jingles like rusted keys as Roier enters. Someone swears from the back room; otherwise, the bakery is entirely empty.
“Coming!” Roier hears.
“No worries!” he responds. “Take your time!”
He doesn’t exactly have time for the baker to take, but he isn’t exactly going to get himself a chef by being rude, is he?
So Roier waits, and he takes the opportunity to look at the display cases by the front counter. Donuts, of course, some muffins. An… abnormal amount of meat pies. Sure? Why not! Every place has its specialties.
A few moments pass, during which Roier starts mentally counting how many of each item he’s gonna need, and then footsteps from the back and an apologetic, “Sorry, I’m just-”
The baker cuts himself off as Roier stands up and looks him over. He’s… handsome, okay. Okay. More importantly, he already looks more piratey than half of Roier’s crew: pierced ear, scar across the bridge of his nose, solid build. Hot.
“You’re a pirate,” the baker says, much calmer than most regular people would be. Good, he’s brave, pirates need to be brave.
Roier leans forward against the counter, propping himself up on his elbows. He smiles, head tilted juuuust so.
“Who, me?” he asks. He shakes his head. “Naaaah. I’m just a regular guy looking for breakfast, you know?”
The baker’s eyes trail over Roier’s head and shoulders like he’s memorizing him. Creepy, kinda. Hot, kinda.
Roier continues, “But I’ve never been here before, so… any recommendations?”
He winks. The baker’s eyes widen slightly, and then he smiles himself and leans himself against the counter, his arms just inches away from Roier’s.
“Well,” he says, “the donuts will last longer on a long trip, if that’s what you’re asking. Everything else has fresh ingredients in it.”
“Who says I’m going on a long trip?”
The baker rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the counter to start unloading donuts into a bag. “Please, nobody actually wants to stay in this shithole. I’m used to tourists.”
He has nice arms. Maybe he even knows how to use a sword already.
“Sooo… you want to leave, too?” Roier asks.
The baker shrugs. “Maybe someday.”
That isn’t a no…
So it’s basically a yes!
Roier beams. “What if today was your someday?”
The baker gives him a flat look. “I’m not a pirate.”
“Maybe I’m not, either. But I do need someone on my ship who knows how to cook, and you wanna get out of here.”
The last donut is dumped into the bag, and the baker ties the bag shut and plops it onto the counter. He leans over it with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m not a chef, either,” he says. “Shouldn’t you be hiring someone that can actually cook, Captain Roier?”
At Roier’s gasp, the baker nods his head towards the wall behind Roier. On it is a bulletin board with wanted posters for nearly every pirate on the seas, Roier included.
Whoops.
Whatever! The baker hasn’t called the authorities yet, so he’s fine.
Roier opens his mouth, ready to try his pitch again, but he’s rudely interrupted by a cannon ball sailing through the bakery’s front window and slamming into a cabinet full of flour.
The room explodes into white, sending both Roier and the baker reeling.
“Fuck!” Roier coughs. He fans the air in front of his face, blinking rapidly to get the flour off of his eyes.
The bakery’s door is slammed open by a heavy boot. Its owner, a Navy officer, follows it in with his sword drawn and pointed at… the baker.
“Hands in the air,” the officer sneers.
Roier looks at the officer. He looks at the baker.
The baker looks at him. The baker looks at the officer.
He raises his hands slowly, holding the donut bag with it for whatever reason.
He looks at Roier again, a small smile on his handsome, yet flour-dusted, face.
“Thank you for having me aboard, captain,” he says.
The officer just then seems to notice Roier, but the poor bastard is just a bit too late because, just as he’s turning around to slash at the very obvious pirate captain in the room, Cellbit chucks the donuts at the idiot’s head. The bag makes contact, and then it makes the officer stumble right into the pointy end of Roier’s sword.
What a shame.
Roier pulls his sword out of the guy’s stomach with a grimace, wiping the blood on the bakery’s shredded window curtains.
He turns to smile at the baker, then.
“Glad to have you aboard…”
“Cellbit,” the baker supplies.
Now, where has Roier heard that name before…?
Whatever! There’s time for that later.
For now, Roier has a ship to get to, and he has a chef to deliver to it.
#a.d.'s fics i suppose#a.d.'s fics i suppose.#spiderbit pirate au#that’s right I revamped it#based loosely off of 1 piece iykyk
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made your mark on me, a golden tattoo
tattoo artist sevika x reader AU (18+)
Summary: you are getting your very first tattoo and sevika just so happens to be your tattoo artist. flirting and sexual tension ensue.
Pairing: tattoo artist sevika x reader AU
Word Count: 3357 (she's LONG)
Tags: soft sevika, unresolved tension, useless lesbians, gay panic, tattoo artist, tattoos, tattoo parlor
You shifted around the seat in the waiting room of the tattoo parlor for what felt like the hundredth time in the span of a single minute. For some reason you were a lot less nervous on the way here than you were literally waiting for your tattoo artist to set up the room and look over your art samples. You told yourself that this was something you were going to get done if it was the last thing you did.
I mean, for God’s sake, it was a brand new year, and you wanted your first tattoo to be something special, to carry meaning that only you will understand. Kind of like a little inside joke.
Apparently the tattoo artist you selected.. Sevika was it? Was quite well known throughout Zaun for several amazing masterpieces. She was attentive to detail, cared about each and every single one of her customer’s needs, and really wanted to make the best product possible for her clientele.
You crossed one leg over the other, folding your arms across your chest and heaved out a little sigh. She better damn well be. The waiting list for her business was about three months long. You made sure to do plenty of research before committing to something as permanent as a tattoo. I mean, it will stay on your body for the rest of your life. Perhaps even into your death.
You shuddered at the thought. Whatever. No matter what, it was far too late to turn back now. You already submitted your deposit, gave the artist the design you had in mind and for crying out loud, you were already here at the goddamn place. So might as well get this over with and try to have as few regrets as possible.
“Y/N?” a low and raspy voice called out from the back of the tattoo parlor. “I’m ready for you. You can come on back now.”
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. She was ready for you. Okay. What does that even mean? You stood up, dusting off your skirt and took a final big deep breath.
Just stay calm, you reassured yourself. Everything will be alright in the end. And if it isn’t, heck, maybe there is a surgeon in town who can remove it altogether and you can forget this even happened. Maybe that’s a bit of an overexaggeration.
You were greeted by what you could only describe as one of the most beautiful women you have ever seen. Sevika was tall. And just by the looks of her right shoulder and arm muscles bulging from underneath her black tank… you could tell she worked out. Like a lot. She was also smoking a thick cigar between her lips, so her already godlike silhouette was wrapped around in a dreamlike haze.
You muttered a little curse under your breath. As if matters couldn’t get possibly worse, your tattoo artist was hot. As in, very very very hot. This was going to be a long afternoon.
“You can take a seat right here,” she said with confidence, slapping the tattoo bed with a resounding echo.
“Oh, uh, yes okay,” you stammered, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before hoisting yourself up in a less than dignified fashion.
“Are you nervous, Y/N?”
Oh no. From the corner of your eye, you could see she was smirking quite noticeably. Her eyes flicked over you just slightly. Shit. Was she checking you out? You didn’t even do your makeup properly today because you had no idea what she even looked like. If you had known earlier that she was this drop dead gorgeous piece perhaps you would have put in a bit more effort. You win some, you lose some, you suppose.
“J-just a little bit!” you squeaked out. “It’s my first tattoo, so I have no idea what to expect.”
“Well, let me just tell you that you have absolutely nothing to be nervous about, Y/N,” Sevika chuckled as she slid closer to you on her artist chair with your designs in either hand. “If I ever hurt you, you can always tell me to stop and I’ll go slower, okay?”
“Thank you!” Oh god. She smelled so good too.
“Of course. Sooo.. I got to take a look at your ideas last night and I honestly think they are great.” You watched as the thumb of her mechanical hand peeled back a page to glance at the alternate design.
“Really? You think so?”
“Absolutely. Although I think for this bottom part right here, we might need to make a small color adjustment since there might be some shading issues. And for the top corner here where it gets a little bit more complicated? I think I might do a little bit more dotwork to really flesh out the details. But uh, other than that, the stencil is essentially done.”
“Wow! Then, yes, perfect, let's just keep going then,” you gulped. Your eyes casually glazed over the extensive tattooing Sevika had all over her arm and neck.
“Excellent. So, I’ll just have you lay back and.. you wanted it on your side, right? Just lift up your top for me so I can have easy access to that part.”
“Oh um, sure!” You did as you were told, carefully unbuttoning your sweater and shrugging it off your shoulders. You then laid back, and lifted up your cami to reveal the right aspect of your body.
“Lovely,” she replied. “And.. may I?” Her mechanical fingertips lightly grazed over the top of your skirt.
You nodded vigorously. “Of course!”
With the most gentle touch you have ever felt, Sevika gingerly tugged your skirt down a little bit more so it rested comfortably on the roundest part of your right hip. She did the same with the pink lacy fabric of the thong you had on underneath. You tried to take a small breath as quietly as possible.
“Cute panties,” she commented almost a bit too nonchalantly before turning her back to you to slip on some latex gloves and ensure her work tray was all in order.
As if you weren’t already flustered beyond belief, now you might as well have been an uncontrollable mess. “Th-thanks! It’s from um, the store.”
She laughed ever so slightly. “Yeah, I figured as much. Sooo.. for the design. Were you thinking of having it more..” She trailed her gloved fingertip from your pantyline to the top of your chest. “Or more like here?” She ran her other hand over the curve of your waist all the way down to your hip.
“Uhm.. maybe kind of like.. both? If that makes sense? Like it can sort of spread from..” You gently took her wrist and guided her finger from your belly button all the way to the divot in your waist. “Like that?”
“Hmm.. yes. That should be perfectly fine.” She smirked a bit when you immediately released her arm from your grasp as if you were overstepping a boundary.
Without another word, she quickly sprayed some isopropyl alcohol into a wipe and proceeded to sanitize the area. “This might be a bit cold, I’m sorry babe.”
Babe? Did she just call you babe? Does she call all her clients babe? Or is it a little pet name that she only has reserved for you?
“I-it’s totally fine!” you yelped. But she was right. It was quite cold. She could tell you were lying through your teeth when your tummy suddenly clenched up.
“You can’t tense up just yet, doll. I haven’t even gotten the needles out,” she chuckled, lightly slapping your hip. “I need you to loosen up a bit, I don’t want you to be too tight.”
“R-right!” you replied. “Definitely don’t want that.” After a brief pause, you struggled to figure out if there was any sort of double meaning in her words. Or maybe you were just overthinking again.
She let out another hearty laugh and proceeded to massage in some warm lotions into the side of your body. “Just try to relax, hun.” You did as you were told, closing your eyes and making a futile attempt to count numbers. But she wasn’t making your life any easier with all these pet names. And why did her fingers have to feel so goddamn good simply by rubbing cream into your skin. It felt like it was working some type of dark magic, undulating in soft, round circles and moving rhythmically over your waist.
You could have melted into her hands right then and there.
“Okay, and now the stencil. This will feel a little bit wet, alright?”
You nodded your head, biting your lip so you wouldn’t accidentally yelp out. For some odd reason, even though you two just met, you felt very safe with Sevika. Like you could entrust your entire body and soul to her and she wouldn’t hurt any of it even if she was fully capable of doing so.
She smoothed out the stencil exactly over the part of your stomach and waist that you pointed to. She gently kneaded it into your skin, taking extra caution not to be too rough with you.
With one smooth motion, she removed the stencil and quickly leaned over you to ensure no detail of her handiwork got disrupted. That no stone was left unturned.
“Looks… just about.. perfect,” she muttered quietly. You could tell her tone has shifted slightly from the flirtatious one she took on earlier. Suddenly she was laser focused, ensuring that nothing, absolutely nothing would disturb the intricacy of her artwork.
“Great!” you chirped awkwardly, craning your neck over to see the stencil art. Good god. It looked absolutely breathtaking. Her line work was truly something out of this world. And she really did pay attention to every single request you made in your design. “Wow.”
She looked up, locking your gaze with the utmost intensity. “Yeah.” A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She was quite pleased with herself.
She turned around to power on her tattoo machine.
“This part is going to hurt just a little bit, okay?” she spun around in her artist chair to check on you.
You nodded your head and exhaled ever so slightly. “Okay.” A giant lump was starting to form in your throat and you could feel yourself getting a bit worked up.
Sevika immediately held onto your hand and gave it a light squeeze. “If it ever starts hurting, just let me know and I will stop right away.”
“O-okay.”
“We’ll start with the first line. Take a deep breath and count to three for me, alright princess?” Sevika said as she positioned the tattoo gun at an angle to your skin.
Oh my god. Princess?! She definitely does not call all her clients that. Alright. Big deep breath. One.. two.. three-
The searing hot needle pierced into your skin like a knife.
“Ah~!” you let out a small cry and Sevika immediately stopped midline.
“Too fast?”
“A little bit.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’ll go a lot slower this time.”
You nodded and took in another breath. You felt Sevika’s gloved hand slide over the curve of your waist as she positioned herself to gain a little bit more control over her line. By god did her cologne smell amazing. When she leaned over your body, a few short pieces of her bangs would fall out and just barely graze over your exposed tummy. It was definitely getting a bit difficult for you to concentrate on your breathing and counting.
Sevika proceeded to carve out the central line of your tattoo design. She worked slowly and methodically, usually in complete silence. But for some reason when she was around you, she felt the urge to keep pushing the envelope and testing your limits.
“Good girl,” she would coo gently when she noticed your stomach beginning to relax.
“That’s my good girl..” she would say again when she finished a piece of detailing while you stayed quiet and still.
You would moan softly every now and then when you felt the needle dig into your skin and Sevika would respond by going just a touch slower and smirking to herself. Secretly, she loved hearing how adorable and helpless her clients sounded when she sank the tattoo needle deep into their skin. Her sadistic nature was one of the primary reasons she decided to go into tattooing as a prime business.
To have someone completely in her control, at her disposal. To leave a permanent mark on their bodies that would forever remind them of their experience with her. To watch them writhe in pain, or sometimes even pleasure. It was like a drug she simply could not get enough of.
And you. Something about the way you squirmed was extra fucking enticing and she couldn’t quite put a finger on it.
In fact, she could feel you wriggling ever so slightly even now. “Stay still for me, angel.”
And you would immediately stop. Her voice was soft, but also definitively commanding. She needed to focus. To have you moaning and writhing was too much even for her. Her mind would begin to wander to dangerous places.
Like how it would feel to start ramming into your cunt right then and there and watching how your sensitive body would react to her thrusts. How irresistible and beckoning your moans would sound as they ricocheted off the walls, encouraging her to pound into you so rough and so hard you just couldn’t take it anymore. How cute you would look clutching onto your sweater for comfort, or holding onto the sides of the tattoo bed for dear life.
You would be lying if you said you weren’t fantasizing about a million hypothetical scenarios in your head.
Having Sevika press her bicep over the top of your stomach to hold you still just did something to your psyche that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Your eyes danced over the detailing of her own tattoo. It looked to be very intricate and well-thought out… wait a second. Was that supposed to be Zaun?!
“Um, I-I like your tattoo!” you chirped meekly. “It’s really beautiful.”
“Thanks baby,” she smirked to herself. “I designed it myself, actually.”
“Do.. you call all your clients that?” you asked out of the curiosity that was beginning to kill you slowly.
Sevika suddenly paused in the middle of her tattooing to glance over at you.
“Only my favorite ones,” she said with a wink before returning to her work.
Oh my god. Why does she keep doing that? It’s starting to become unfair. Like she was getting off the high of torturing you and watching your pathetic reactions. And what did she mean by “favorite ones”? So she flirts with all her clients she finds attractive? What does that even mean?!
Every now and then, Sevika would sneak a glimpse over towards you. She loved the way your chain necklace rested so comfortably over the top of your collarbone. Or how plump and kissable your lips looked in the dim lighting of the parlor. Or how your legs were beginning to spread instinctively the closer her tattoo work moved to the top of your skirt.
Sevika had to fight every last urge in her body to not reach down into your panties and start pleasuring you the way you deserved right then and there on top of that tattoo bed. But she knew she had a job to finish, regardless of how damn adorable you looked and sounded as she drew on the finishing touches of your tattoo.
“Okay.. almost done,” she said. “You are doing so good, sweetheart.”
You winced a little bit when you felt the needle dig just a bit deeper than usual at the last pattern. Was she trying to tease you back there? Or was that absolutely necessary to finish off the line? Whatever. You tried not to overthink it, even though you have been doing so this entire time.
“Alright..” Sevika hummed. “Why don’t you step off the bed and take a look in the mirror over there?”
You did as you were told, hopping off and hobbling over to the full-length mirror across the room. You tilted your head to the side, gently lifting up your cami again to look over the tattoo. Wow. She really did a stunning job. You were a bit surprised, given the fact that she was flirting with you half the time. But holy.. every single piece of line art and dot work flowed so evenly with each other. The design came out exactly the way you had imagined it.
Sevika gave out a low whistle of approval from behind you.
You jumped a little bit out of surprise. Sevika had snuck up on you without you even noticing. And god. Just by looking in the mirror she was already towering over you.
“It’s… beautiful,” you said softly. “It’s exactly what I wanted.”
“That’s wonderful,” Sevika replied. “Now, can you take your cami off for me, Y/N?”
“M-my cami?”
Sevika chuckled and raised up the medical grade bandage she had in her hand. “For this.”
“Oh. Right. Yes. Absolutely.”
You gently tugged off your shirt and tossed it onto a nearby countertop to reveal a pink lacy bra. Sevika tried not to comment on it but she did in fact take note of how good you looked in it. And how badly she wanted to take it off you right then and there.
Sevika stepped forward so she placed her thigh between your legs and carefully laid the clear bandage over the top of your tattoo. She gently rubbed it in with her thumb and index finger, making sure to smooth out any uneven edges or creases. She smiled a bit to herself when she felt how hard and fast your heartbeat was pounding against your stomach, or how much warmer your skin felt compared to before.
“Perfect,” she said, quickly removing her gloves and handing you back your shirt. “So, for this bandage, think of it as like a second layer of skin that offers extra protection. Leave it on for the next few days. Then I would rinse it off with some warm water. Oh and, definitely moisturize.” Her tone shifted from flirtatious to professional and matter-of-fact in what felt like a split second. How did she keep doing that?!
“Y-yes ma’am!” you sputtered out, returning to the tattoo bed to shrug on your sweater and gather your belongings.
“And the payment is already taken care of since I saw you submitted your deposit in advance, so I believe you are all set,” Sevika said.
“Great! Um.. thank you Sevika. I was super nervous going into this but you definitely made me feel a whole lot better afterwards.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” she replied, giving you another flirty grin. “Oh, and uh-” The tattoo artist went behind the front counter to dig around a bit until she fished out a slightly bent business card and handed it over to you. “Call me.”
“C-call you?! As in like- Oh my god. I’m.. not sure if I would feel.. I mean, isn’t this kind of fast?”
“I meant to update me on your tattoo healing,” Sevika chuckled. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, princess.”
“Right, right, no yes that makes total and complete sense,” you responded, folding the business card nervously into your palm. “Um.. well I guess I’ll.. call you.”
“Yeah.” She had already followed you to the doorframe and you were standing in the streets of the undercity at this point. “I’ll see you around, alright Y/N?”
“Okay! Yes. Um. Bye! Thank you!” You quickly scurried off into the busy crowds of Zaun, disappearing into the darkness once more.
You were quite certain that if you didn’t act, that you would barely see Sevika again, save an occasional run-in at the liquor store or maybe a random night at The Last Drop. So you didn’t want to take any chances.
#sevika#arcane sevika#sevika x reader#sevika x y/n#sevika x you#arcane sevika x reader#arcane thoughts#arcane netflix#arcane league of legends#arcane silco#arcane#jinx arcane#arcane jinx#arcane fanfic#arcane imagines#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#arcane x oc#arcane x female reader
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Do you think (I hope this doesn't sound as if I hate the batkids but im just genuinely curious), if the bat kids (Jason, Tim, Damian, Steph, etc) came earlier, like Robin Dick and Batman when they have still a rather good(?) relationship and before Dick leaving and before canon time of Bruce meeting Jason) met Bruce, will he take them in and/or adopt them?
Tbf, Dami is biological son so Bruce might take him in either way, but what do you think?
No it doesn't sound like that at all! :)
Honestly I don't think it would've mattered if any of the robins had met Dick and Bruce when they had a good relationship. First of all, Bruce only took in Jason because he missed Dick and wanted a Robin. So if Dick was still with Bruce, Bruce would feel no desire or thought to take in anyone. Furthermore, Jason isn't the first troubled talented kid that Bruce has met over the years. Bruce and Dick have been solving cases and helping such kids for years so Bruce taking in Jason during Dick's absence was more of a "right place at the right time" sort of thing.
For similar reasons, that's also why he wouldn't have taken in Tim. Bruce took in Tim under Alfred and Dick's encouraging and also because Tim made a good point about Batman needing a Robin. B was literally killing himself through self-destructive techniques because Jason died and grief does that to people. He lost a robin. If Dick had been the one that died during his Robin years, then Tim might have ended up Robin but it's debatable because he would've been younger than 13 at the time. But if he waited until he was old enough, then Bruce would've killed himself in grief by then. However since Dick is still alive, healthy, and on great terms, Tim wouldn't have entered the picture. Although, if he worked up the nerve to reach out to Dick sooner, Dick would've had a new baby brother a lot earlier.
Stephanie only became Robin because Bruce was trying to manipulate Tim to come back. He knew that Tim would hate him if he endangered his loved ones so by making Stephanie robin, Tim would have to return because he knows the dangers of being Robin. So no Tim, no Stephanie.
Damian. Damian would become Robin and that's canon! THERE'S ACTUALLY A SAME AGE DICK AND DAMIAN STORY!!!!
In this story, Talia suddenly drops off Damian with Bruce and he finds out that his father has another kid-Dick. It's a heart warming story of them getting to know each other with Raven, Gar, and Maxine.
Teen Titans: Robin Issue #1
Teen Titans: Robin Issue #1
When the tracker doesn't work he gets really worried so he calls Bruce about it. And Bruce is just like, "Whatever, it'll be fine, Dick. He was raised by assassins, he can take care of himself. I need to go."
But Dick is in full Big Brother Mode. So what does he do? He spies on Damian through CCTV cameras and then gets even more worried that Damian might be kidnapped or involved in something dangerous because oh my god there's random people whose identification don't come up with Damian.
So Dick then rushes out of the manor and goes on a road trip, tracking him down. Damian's friends are surprised and creeped out to see a guy and when Damian looks, he is not happy. Damian does not like Dick. But Dick in any universe will always be a responsible older brother.
Teen Titans: Robin Issue #1
At this point Dick is fed up.
Is that what Damian wants? Fine.
Teen Titans: Robin Issue #1
So they have a bunch of mini-competitions from archery to hacking to parkour to fighting to etc and Damian's getting more and more frustrated that he keeps tying while Dick is in it for a good time. I think Dick's genuinely happy about this because he's viewing it as a bonding experience but everything comes to head when Damian reaches his limit
Teen Titans: Robin Issue #2
Things don't get better but the event progresses because Slade's wife Adeline (to whom he's still married to) is working with an evil organisation that collects metas and non-humans is searching for Gar so they need to do something fast. There are also flashbacks from Damian's side of him being jealous that Bruce trusts Dick so much and how perfect he is which don't help. It makes Damian really furious that Dick doesn't even realize how Bruce trusts him and instead acts like he's best friends with Damian which just serves to tick him off more.
Dick and Damian end up working together, find out about Kori, escape Slade, and all's great in the end. They become the brothers they were always meant to be.
Teen Titans: Robin Issue #2
Teen Titans: Robin Issue #2
And then it becomes the real formation of the teen titans. Dick and Damian - brothers for life.
I wish there was an entire series on this! I want to see the continuation.
Putting aside the logistics of whether they would meet or not, if Dick had met any of the robins at any age, he would've adored the heck out of them. I think they all would've ended up in Damian's position but they would definitely warm up to him by the end because it's impossible not to love Dick, especially if he loves you.
There's also a canon comic moment where Robin! Tim meets Robin! Dick, and they get along far better than Damian and Dick here but still the same emotions run in the scenes.
Robin (1993) Issue #10
While Dick and Tim solve a case, Tim is just amazed by Dick.
Robin (1993) Issue #10
Robin (1993) Issue #10
He's a little salty too. "Dick's going to beat me to the punch. I'm older than him. At this point I've got more experience than him. And he's got me playing catch-up. The little gloryhound..."
Robin (1993) Issue #10
"Like I need him to remind me."
Robin (1993) Issue #10
The way Tim and Damian feel the same way - it's two different comics, but they both feel stressed by Dick for the same reasons.
Teen Titans: Robin Issue #2
They feel like the need to live up to Dick but Dick doesn't feel that they have anything to prove because he just genuinely likes them for who they are. This feeling is a source of friction on the Robins' side, but it's also important they have this because you can't really know someone if you don't overcome your differences. The fact that they have to learn about each other brings out both of their greatest strengths.
Like in the Robin comic, Tim suspects something is off and Dick goes along with it. Tim's right and in the end they catch the bad guy and figure out the escape plan.
Robin (1993) Issue #10
To which Dick says, "Oh yeah! I can see how you got your job. Robin."
Robin (1993) Issue #10
Tim's happy face <3333
Overall, I'd say that Bruce wouldn't take any of the Robin in during Dick's younger days. But if he did, Dick and the Robins would become the best of brothers.
Oh but you know what'd be exciting? Dick and Stephanie's same age Robin au! Tim, Damian, and Jason's would all be sort of the same. They would struggle with Dick's standing but love him possessively in the end. But I have no idea how Stephanie and Dick would go. Of course they would love each other but same age brother and sister?! I WANT THAT SO BAD!!! Their dynamic would be crazy!! The amount of grey hairs Bruce would have? The ultimate chaos duo, they'd feed into each others' energies! Gotham would be a goner.
#dick grayson#robin dick grayson#damian wayne#robin damian#jason todd#tim drake#robin tim drake#stephanie brown#robin stephanie brown#bruce wayne#batman#cl anon asks#thanks for the ask!
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Title: cruel summer | chapter 6
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
Pairing: No outbreak!Joel Miller/Female Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)
Chapters: 6/6
Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Join a tag list
Summary: Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.
He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.
Author’s Note: This is the end! Thank you all so much for enjoying this little fic that I have loved writing. Requests are open if you have anything you wanna see in the future 🥰
Additional Tags/Warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age gap (23F and 38M), mild/moderate angst (resolved!), alcohol consumption, discussions of family dynamics, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), slight fem dom?, dirty talk, pet names. Let me know if any are missing!
You don’t hear from Joel the next two days, save for the text he’d sent the night he dropped you off at your apartment with a broken heart. He said he’d fix this and god, you want to believe him. But silence doesn’t feel promising.
Your dad has called no less than twenty times since that night. You’ve let them all rot away in your voicemail graveyard. You don’t have the motivation to do much besides sit on the couch for your daytime crying and move back to your bed for your nighttime crying before exhaustion finally wins and you fall asleep.
There’s a knock at your door on the third day, but you don’t make any move to answer it. You hear the key turn in the lock and your mom enters the apartment.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she says gently, setting down an armful of groceries in the kitchen before sitting beside you on the couch, smoothing your unwashed hair from your face with a gentle hand. “I’d ask how you’re doing, but I think I know the answer.”
Tears prick at your eyes. “It hurts, mama.”
“I know, baby,” she murmurs. She pulls your head to her chest. “Have you heard from Joel? Or your daddy?”
“No, I haven’t heard anything from Joel. Dad’s called a bunch, but I…I don’t wanna talk to him, mama. He was so mean.”
“You gotta think about where he’s coming from. You’re his only baby, his little girl. He’s having a hard time separating the baby he used to rock to sleep from the woman who can make her own choices. And he reacted with the heart of a dad, not the brain of a logical man.”
You sniff. “That doesn’t make it any better.”
“I know. You don’t have to forgive him. I’m spittin’ mad at the man myself. But I just wanted you to know.” She presses a kiss to your head. “Now, help me put those groceries away. I have somewhere I gotta be in an hour.”
________
Joel nervously scrapes at the paper label on his beer bottle as he waits for his lunch guest to arrive. He’s been a wreck the past couple of days, trying to keep it together in front of Sarah while his mind wanders to you, your last words to him ringing in his ears.
I love you, Joel Miller. I hope you find it in you to not be a coward and love me back.
That’s exactly what he intends to do. He just needs someone on his side.
Which is why he texted your mom a few nights ago, asking if he could talk to her.
The woman in question approaches the table and Joel stands to greet her, holding an arm out for a handshake. She only rolls her eyes, pulling him into a hug that surprises him. When she seats herself, the waiter swings by and takes her order for a glass of Chardonnay before leaving the two of them to stare at each other.
“So. Joel Miller. You love my daughter, huh?” She asks. He swallows nervously.
“Yes, m’am.”
“And my husband was an asshole to you about it?”
He considers his response. “It..uh..could have gone better.”
She nods. The waiter drops off her wine glass and she takes a dainty sip. “Well. Tell me the whole story.”
So he does. He leaves out the more salacious bits, because your mom doesn’t need to know about what happened in her kitchen, instead focusing on how you drew him in with your sweet disposition and he was helpless to avoid falling in love with you. He tells her about bringing Sarah over and how you played with his little girl like she was the only thing that mattered in that moment. He talks about the trip to the aquarium. He mentions his stupid attempt at pushing you away.
“And I can’t do that again, m’am. I don’t want to. I told your husband that she’s the best thing that’s happened to me since Sarah was born, and I meant every word.”
The whole time, she stays quiet, sipping her wine. Occasionally, a small smile will pass across her lips.
“You know, my own daddy didn’t like my husband when he first met him. Thought he was a no good troublemaker. I think my husband forgets that he’s just as in love with someone’s daughter as you are with mine. And one day someone will love your little girl, and you’ll think they’re not good enough for her, too. It’s the curse of being a father.”
Joel nods, unsure of what to say. Your mom finishes her glass of wine before continuing.
“I think you should join us for dinner tonight, Joel. And I promise to change the gun safe code before you get there.”
________
Joel shows up at your parents house with a bottle of wine and enough nervous energy to power a small city. He feels like he might throw up as he waits for someone to answer the door.
Thankfully, it’s your mom. He hands over the bottle of Chardonnay he brought and she gives him a kiss on the cheek.
“Chin up. You got this,” she says, patting him on the shoulder and guiding him to the living room.
Your dad is sitting on the couch, a glass of whiskey in hand as he staunchly refuses to meet Joel’s eyes. He takes a seat in one of the accent chairs.
“My wife says I owe you an apology,” your dad says. “And that I need to get my head out of my ass before I lose it up there for good.”
Joel has to fight back his laugh, biting his lip hard.
“I just want my daughter to be happy. And she’s right, she’s an adult now. I forget, sometimes,” he continues. “She used to ask me to check for monsters under her bed and in her closet. Hard to believe that same girl is about to graduate college. Become a doctor. Save the world. All the best things I always wished for her. And I also used to wish she’d find someone to love her. And I can’t begrudge you for being that person. So, I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” Your mom shouts from the kitchen. Your dad rolls his eyes.
“For being an asshole. And ruining your date,” he grumbles. He drains the rest of his drink.
“Thank you, sir,” Joel replies. Your mom enters the living room.
“Excellent. Now, come on, Joel. Let’s talk New Year’s Eve plans.”
________
It’s New Year's Eve and your mom showed up at your apartment just after dinner with a garment bag and a stern expression.
“You are coming to the party, young lady,” she insists. “Now get in the shower.”
You do what she asks with heavy limbs. You still haven’t heard from Joel. Your dad’s phone calls have stopped. You’re not exactly looking forward to seeing him tonight.
When you get out of the shower, your mom is wielding your blow dryer like a weapon. You sit at your desk while she styles your hair for you. You do your makeup under her watchful eye, then slip into the shiny silver dress she brought for you.
“Gorgeous. Come on. Let’s go.”
She hustles you into the passenger seat of her car and drives to her house. There’s a whole line of cars parked along the curb, and you groan at the idea of having to mingle with their friends.
“Alright, in you go, chop chop,” your mom says, shooing you from the vehicle. You enter the bustling house, forcing a smile as some of your dad’s business colleagues and your mom’s friends say hello, pulling you into hugs and cheek kisses.
Your mom brings you a glass of champagne, pulling you along at her side as she talks with her guests. When the doorbell rings, your mom politely asks you to answer the door.
When you do, you feel like you’re hallucinating. Standing on the front porch is Joel, dressed in a suit, his wild curly hair slicked back and his face clean shaven.
Christ, the man can wear a suit.
“Hey, baby,” he says.
Seemingly out of nowhere, your dad appears beside you. “Hey, Joel! Come on in, can I get you anything to drink?”
You look between the two men, feeling like you’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone. Have you missed something?
Your dad shakes Joel’s hand, all smiles, and your questions only multiply. Joel squeezes your hip as he passes by, following your dad to the kitchen for a drink. You trail behind them, confused as hell as you watch them chat like they’re old friends and your dad pours him a glass of whiskey.
“Uh, Joel?” You ask. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure, sweetheart,” he replies. He excused himself with your dad and you lead him upstairs to your childhood bedroom, his palm hot on your lower back.
In your room, you shut the door and take a deep breath. “Joel, what’s happening?”
“I fixed it,” he says, setting his glass down on your old dresser.
“You fixed it,” you repeat incredulously. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” he says, stepping closer and slipping an arm around your waist, “I’m all in. No more runnin’. No more secrets. No more bein’ a coward. It means I’m yours, and you’re mine, and nothin’ is gonna change that.”
You blink at him. “But…my dad—“
“Met with him and your mom. Had some good talks. He just wants you to be happy, baby. He did threaten that he knew a good place to hide a body if I hurt you, though.”
“Why didn’t you call me? Or text me?”
“Because when I came back to you on my knees beggin’ for forgiveness, I wanted to have everythin’ squared away.” He drops down to one knee, then the other, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his as his hands grip your hips. “So, can you forgive me, baby?”
You smirk. “I could probably be persuaded.”
“Naughty girl,” he murmurs, trailing a hand up your calf. “You want me to earn it?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, voice already breathy and your core clenching in anticipation. “I think you owe me a real thorough apology, Joel.”
He grins at you as his fingers reach the hem of your dress, urging it up your thighs until it’s bunched around your waist, exposing your panties underneath. He gently pulls them down your legs, eyes glued to your face as he does. He urges you to step out of them once they’re around your ankles.
Tossing them to the side, he lifts one of your legs and situates it on his shoulder, opening you up to his hungry gaze.
“Missed you so much, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. “Was goin’ crazy without you.”
“Less talking, more apologizing,” you demand, breathing already labored.
He huffs a laugh against your skin before angling his face toward your center, his nose brushing your needy clit as he licks a broad stripe through your folds, his tongue dipping into your entrance. Your head drops back against the door with a groan.
“You gotta be quiet, can’t have all those nice people downstairs knowin’ you’re gettin’ your pussy devoured, huh, baby?”
You bite your lip to hold your noises as he returns to his apology, licking and sucking and biting at you until you’re a writhing mess.
“Joel!” You whisper-shout, tugging on his hair. “Want your cock, baby, please?”
His lips are shiny with your essence as he stands, hands working his belt and fly open in quick succession. He presses a messy kiss to your lips as he frees his cock, an arm wrapping around your waist to lift you up, your legs automatically circling his hips. His hot length slides against your clit and you moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed in his kiss.
He presses you against the wall so that he can use one hand to position his cock at your dripping entrance, pressing his hips forward to drive himself inside you. Your arms cling to his shoulders as you gasp at the stretch.
“Christ, darlin’,” he whispers against your neck. “I’m not gonna last long like this.”
“Don’t care,” you reply, swiveling your hips in an attempt to get him to move. “Come on, baby, you’re not gonna make me cum standing still.”
Joel chuckles darkly, drawing back and slamming harshly up into you, the power of it knocking the breath from your lungs. He pounds into you harshly, his hands sure to leave fingertip shaped bruises on the skin of your hips and ass where he holds you to drag you over his length.
“Touch yourself, pretty girl, I need you to cum with me,” he demands. You slip a hand between your bodies, fingers circling your clit with little finesse as you work in tandem with Joel to reach your release.
It shatters over you in a consuming wave, your legs going tight around his waist as you lean forward to bite your scream into his shoulder. You feel his cock pulse inside of you as he presses in deep, his release warm as it fills you to the brim.
You slump against him, boneless in the aftermath. He presses a sweet kiss to your shoulder before gently lowering you to the ground, an arm looped around your waist to support you as you try to stand on shaky legs.
He tucks his softening cock away into his boxers, pulling his pants up. He locates your panties on the brown and kneels down to help you step back into them.
“Not gonna steal this pair?” You tease. He nips the inside of your knee in retaliation.
“Only because I’m not about to send you out in your parents house with my cum dripping down your thighs,” he replies, situating the fabric on your hips before pulling your dress back down over your thighs. When he stands, he pulls you into a deep kiss, his palms framing your cheeks. “I love you,” he says as he pulls back.
You grin at him, smoothing your fingers through his mussed hair. “I love you, too.”
________
You rejoin the party, your hand in Joel’s as he leads you to the kitchen for a drink refill. It’s nearing midnight, and your dad has turned on the TV in the living room to the ball drop in anticipation.
The man in question is in the kitchen with your mom, the two of them flushed from their drinks and the heat of the full house. Your dad gives you a tentative smile.
“Hi,” he says as the two of you approach. You release Joel’s hand to pull him into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers.
“I know. Thank you, dad,” you reply. You don’t miss the shine in his eyes when you pull back and kiss him on the cheek. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” he tells you.
The noise in the house starts to grow as the ball begins to drop, the countdown echoed in chorus by the party goers. Joel hands you a glass of champagne, pulling you into his side as he starts to join in.
“3…2…1! Happy New Year!!”
Joel tilts your face to his, planting a kiss to your lips, in front of everyone. When you pull away, your mom tugs you into a hug and your dad shakes Joel’s hand, both men smiling.
And you can’t help but think how amazing it is that one summer can change your whole world.
Tag list: @huffle-punk @telepathay @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @caatheeriinee07 @leeeesahhh @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @lovebandrry @str84pedro @daddy-din @missgurrl @paleidiot @mattmurdock1021
#no use of y/n#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel tlou#joel x reader#cruel summer#complete fic#complete
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by the open fire
summary: a sweet little moment with your loves is exactly the perfect way to spend christmas eve.
pairing: wednesday addams x fem!reader x enid sinclair
day 6 of ficmas! (december 24th, 2022)
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before winter break started, wednesday suggested that you and enid spend the holidays with her and her family. the girl had gotten so comfortable in the relationship with you guys that she felt ready to tell her parents. she no longer inched away from hugs or kisses or even cuddles. having too much of a soft spot for you guys, she’d pretty much do anything to make you guys happy even if it meant stepping out of her comfort zone.
“now, my parents can be smothering with their affection to each other. try your best to ignore the grossness.”
“wednesday, how is that any of a difference than with us?” the girl chose to ignore enid’s question and walked to the door of the mansion. you tugged enid’s hand with a giggle and pulled her to follow.
the door swings open and there stands morticia and gomez addams with bright smiles. they both gesture you all to come in.
“mother. father. you remember enid from when you first met her at nevermore.”
“yes of course,” morticia nods a smile to enid before turning her focus back to you.
“this is y/n, also from nevermore. they are both-“
“your girlfriends.” wednesday looks to her mother with wide eyes making you and enid share a look.
“call it mothers intuition.”
“my little storm cloud has finally found love. i couldn’t be more prouder,” gomez pressed a kiss onto morticia’s hand sharing a proud parent moment with her.
“well ladies welcome. wednesday why don’t you show them around?” she nods at her mother and leads both of you to start a tour of the house.
“soo does this mean your parents are okay with the three of us being together?” you had to be the one to break the silence first being that you were a little spooked that her parents were so calm.
“yes. why wouldn’t they be?”
“wens, i think y/n is just trying to say that she’s worried that your parents aren’t happy or faking it,” in the midst of explaining to wednesday, enid grabbed your hand squeezing gently in reassurance.
wednesday stops walking to turn around to the both of you and grasped each of yours hands completing the circle. “trust me when i say everything is okay. although, they may be overly annoying and too affectionate, they aren’t lying about be happy. they have waited years for me to find someone. just so happens i ended up with two people that torture my mind. in a good way.” 
you smiled hearing your girlfriend reassure you and your worries. she had definitely gotten better at doing that.
“now i must show you guys to my favorite part of the house,” she lets go of you and enid’s hand but not without a quick squeeze. wednesday leads you guys to a room that had a beautiful fireplace and many books sitting on shelfs. there was also a record player with all different types of of records to spin.
“oh my god babe this is so amazing!” you couldn’t take your eyes off of enid. eyes wide in excitement and her smile getting bigger.
“i always come here to read or sit in silence,” wednesday goes to the fireplace to light it. the fire spreading on the wood making the room ten times prettier.
“silence?! wednesday you have all type of records here,” you shuffled to go through them seeing the selection.
“can we spin a record?”
“have at it my loves.” in no time enid was right by your side helping you choose what to play. you both choose a soft christmas record and wednesday rolls her eyes. she knew what you guys were gonna play the second you stepped foot to the record player but she didn’t mind. while you guys were picking the record, she took the time to silently set up a blanket by the fire with pillows and an extra blanket to throw around you guys.
“aw baby! honey look at what wednesday did!” you tapped enid’s arm to show her the set up. wednesday’s cheeks began to blush under the gaze of her girlfriends. she thought of herself to be lucky to have both of you.
“don’t mention it just come over here,” the girl holds out both hands for each of you to hold. the two of you walked the short distance and sit down next to her.
“i was thinking maybe i could read to you guys. that is if you want to.”
“i don’t mind it my love.”
“yeah, me either babe,” enid nods her head agreeing with you. wednesday pulls out the book from behind her and tells you guys to get comfortable. you all lay down with wednesday in the middle. she makes sure to pull the blanket up on the three of you before opening the book to start reading. she had chosen frankenstein by mary shelley, one of her favorites.
-
morticia hadn’t seen you guys in a while and decided to get you guys for dinner. she searches the house before remembering wednesday’s favorite hiding spot.
“girls dinner is ready,” she opens the door and finds a beautiful sight. her daughter actually cuddling with people. you and enid were snuggled up on each side of wednesday while she had an arm around each of you. morticia sees a book that had been disregarded elsewhere. she’s never seen wednesday look so peaceful.
morticia was quick to leave and grab her camera from the living room. when she comes back, she quietly takes three pictures with the polaroid just so each of you can have a picture. smiling to herself one last time, she turns to close the door softly not wanting to disrupt your sleep.
#wednesday addams x reader#enid sinclair x reader#wednesday#jenna ortega#emma myers#wenclair x reader
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Reminisce and Regrets
A/N: “Italic” dialogue indicates it being spoken in English.
“Normal” dialogue indicates it being spoken in Korean.
Shoutout to @nojisunnomercy for the commission piece, really make me and Ghost to write and go through to make a sequel to Consquences and Regrets.
~~~~~
I made you my everything.
Put my life in your hands and you held the strings.
She really was your everything.
Don't know who I am anymore.
Let me down every time and I hit the floor.
Even with what she did, you still forgave her back then, entrusting her not to hurt you again.
And you gave me nothing at all.
Only empty excuses to try and break the fall.
Despite your forgiveness, she ended up betraying you again.
So, I did what I never could to do.
And I cut myself loose from you.
If she didn’t do it… Would you still be with her?
.
.
.
“Hey!”
.
.
.
“Oi, you bastard!”
With a yell, you snap back to reality, the image of her gone from your mind, replaced by your grumpy friend, frowning at you. “The food is going to be cold if you keep staring into nothing like that.”
At that time, you put your earbuds down, and noises start to flood back into your ears. The clinking of utensils hitting each other’s and the plate. Chattering from nearby tables. Sounds of people walking and cars driving on the road.
No longer are you drowned in your own thoughts. You’re back to reality: a small café near your workplace, where you and your friend decide to have lunch.
“You can just start first you know.” You shrug. “Didn’t have to wait for me.”
“Bro, I already finished half of mine, and you haven’t even touched yours.”
“Oh.” Looking down onto the table, you barely touch your food while your friend is almost done with his.
“You know, it’s not like we are strangers or anything.” Your friend lets out a sigh. “I’m worried about you dude. You haven’t been like this since the first week that you arrived here, and that was years ago!”
“Yeah, well, you know I got cheated on by my ex, what else do you need to know?” You chuckle lightly, starting to dig into your already cold meal.
“The details! The beauty is in the details, my guy.” Your friend responds with a chuckle, which morphs into a worried smile “Don’t you think let it out is better than keeping it all in?”
“Well... I’ll think about the offer, but thanks anyways.” You smile at your friend. A bit mischievous, but a good person at heart. You know he only has your best intention in his mind, and you are grateful for it. But you are not about to ruin her image, it’s the least you can do for her, even if she betrayed you twice.
“Anyways, I got us tickets!” Your friend decides to change the subject, tapping something on his phone before showing you the image of 2 tickets on his hand. “For what, exactly?” You think you know what those tickets are for, but you pray to God that you are wrong, just this one time.
“For the Loona concert!”
Fuck.
You swear in your head. It’s bad enough that the news of their tour, and images of them circulating in twitter inadvertently got you thinking about her again, after all those years. Now attending a concert and seeing them live?
God knows what could happen.
“How did you even get your hands on this?” You ask purely out of curiosity as to how your friend managed to acquire the tickets. You know how fast these tickets sell out. “Heh, what can I say? Lady luck was on my side that day~” Your friend looks incredibly proud of himself.
“So… Who are you going with?” You ask, a futile attempt in hopes that you might not have to go. “You, of course.” You groan at his answer.
“Come on, I know you want to attend it. You’re Korean, for god’s sake!” Your friend beams at you. “Most people don’t even recognize me as a Korean.” You counter. “That’s because you grow your fucking hair and beard out. They look good on you by the way, paired with those glasses-” He does the typical chef’s kiss motion “but just saying.” Your friend nearly explodes, but in a playful way, as he points out your distinct changes.
“I get your point, and?”
“And it might be a nice chance to use your mother tongue again. You’ve been using English ever since you got here, and God bless you for being fluent in English because none of us know a lick of Korean, I just feel like it’s unfair for you.”
“You really don’t have to do that.” You smile lightly. Amongst the various coworkers you worked with when you first arrived, only this guy stuck with you through thick and thin, inadvertently ending up as your best friend… Still, he can’t replace her, but he is good to you, and you gratefully accept that. What you don’t want to accept is the tickets.
“But-”
“Nah ah, no buts! I already paid for the damn tickets; I can use it however I want. And I want you to go with me on that day, and that is final!” Your friend stares at you with his fake aggressiveness that you are oh so familiar already. And you know that he won’t budge at this point, no matter how much you say to him.
“Alright, you win. I’ll go with you.” You let out a light chuckle, to which your friend also smiles at you. “There we go, couldn’t you be like this earlier?”
“Shut up.” Both of you laugh at the banter while enjoying the rest of the lunch. You can’t help but feel dreaded at the notion of seeing her, or the girls again, but they might not recognize you with how much you’ve changed. Ignoring the dull pain in your heart at the thought of them not recognizing you, you still think that it would be for the best. You are not the same as you were back then.
Not anymore.
-----
“Yah! Yeojin! Sit back down, why are you jumping around??”
“I’m so hungry… Do we have anything to eat? Hey, are you listening to me?”
To say that the bus is chaotic would be an understatement.
In typical Loona fashion, the girls are completely turning the bus upside down with their shenanigans, like they have an endless reserve of energy. Well, most of them, anyways.
Sitting at the far back of the bus, Hyeju watches them silently. Per usual, Hyeju isn’t one to participate in the chaos as much as the others, but there’s another reason for this.
See, after the incident with you, it took Hyeju a long time to earn back the trust of the girls again, some longer than others. Thankfully the members gave Hyeju another chance, but things were never quite the same.
Like how cracks can still be seen on a fixed object.
Her mistake has left scars. Some deeper than others.
She then takes a glance at Heejin who is also not partaking in the chaos, but just looking outside the window with a blank stare. Heejin never really did forgive Hyeju. She only held in the anger inside of her for the sake of the others, but with observant eyes, it wasn’t hard to recognize Heejin was avoiding Hyeju.
And honestly, despite how hurtful it is, Hyeju can’t bring herself to be angry at Heejin for that.
You and Heejin were basically glued together.
She introduced you to the girls.
She was the one that was with you through thick and thin.
But in the end, she had to give up on him for Hyeju’s sake.
What did Hyeju do?
She betrayed you.
The reason why you decided to move abroad while cutting off any form of contact.
It’s been 3 years since then.
Hyeju sighs to herself, looking outside to the moving scenery. Three grueling years without you by her side, they say that you never know what you truly had until you lost it, Hyeju understands it fully, now that she lost you.
She never quite realized just how involved you were in her life, until you left. The apartment was never quite the same without you, without your warm touch, it lost its homely atmosphere, now it’s just a cold, empty room. Meals weren’t the same without your soft voice, humming and listening to each of her daily rants, the bed felt cold without your hug, pulling her in and reassuring her that you were always with her.
Why did she do it? Why did she betray you? Even after 3 years, that question still lingers in her mind, as a reminder of her own mistake. She simply took you for granted. After the first time, you were gracious enough to give her your full trust again. And she… She thought that she could get away with it as well. How could some instant gratification be compared with stability?
She was wrong, so, so wrong. She was wrong to even entertain that thought, to even meet up with that man, to be seduced by his mere words.
And that made her lose the dearest thing that she had.
You.
-----
Well, here you are.
Standing in front of the venue, instead of all the excitement that you should be feeling, all you can feel is impending doom or anxiety in short. You start to question yourself repeatedly, “is this a mistake? Should you turn back? Why are you even here-”
“Dude! Less thinking and more walking!” You feel a hand striking your back, nearly making you stumble onto the ground. You glare to the side at your friend, who is smirking at you.
“You’ll thank me for this one day, now let’s get going.” He pulls you to stand straight again, before pushing you into the venue.
“Here goes nothing, I guess.” You mumble, mostly to yourself to brace for what is to come. “See? You’re already speaking in Korean! I know you’re excited, you don’t have to hide it from me~”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You let out a sigh, starting to walk into the venue on your own without your friend pushing you. “Let’s head in, or else we might be stuck outside for a while.”
“I heard you, let’s go!” Your friend’s energy seems to remind you of a certain bunny, causing you to chuckle slightly.
The walk inside the venue is generally uneventful, if you ignore all the crazed fans with the merch gossiping among each other. As you do your best to ignore them, because everywhere you look, you see their damn faces.
On the shirts, printed on handheld fans, posters.
God, what in the actual fuck.
You thought you could handle this, seeing them again, but just the sight of them, of her, on the poster, already makes you feel sick to your stomach. Three years, three long years, and you are still haunted by the memories of that day. Three years without seeing them, three years of you, changing yourself in order to not be weak anymore. Yet just a picture of them, and the wall you’ve built so meticulously has already started to crumble slightly.
“Dude, you alright?” Your friend doesn’t miss the faint pained expression on your face.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m ok, my stomach is just a bit hurt, that’s all.” You harden your resolve once again before reassuring your friend with a slight smile. Your friend says nothing of the matter, but you feel his gaze on you as you both move to your seats on the inside of the stadium.
In an attempt to distract yourself from the fans and pictures, your eyes dart around other places, trying to find a safe haven where you don’t have to look at all the fans and pictures of the girls. You eventually find it, but you don’t know if it’s really a ‘safe haven’.
You spot a figure looking like a man, his black hoodies and jeans a stark contrast from the crowd. Given that you are also dark colored clothes, you can’t say anything about the man. But there’s just something about him, something that you can’t put your hands on, for some reason, he feels familiar.
“Dude, why are you staring at a stranger?” Your friend elbows you in the chest.
“… Nothing.” You disregard your uneasiness to get back to the matter on hand. “I just accidentally look at that direction.” Trying to play it off and walk off with your friend to find your place to watch.
“Pfft, yeah right.” Without looking, you can feel his eyes roll at you. “Let’s head inside before someone call the police on you for being a creep.” Silently, you take one last glance at the man in hoodie, before joining your friend at the seating area of the venue.
“This… Feels weird.” Mumbling to yourself, you look around the place. Now that you think about it, you rarely ever watch their performances from the audience’s point of view. Being a close friend to a certain bunny, and later, boyfriend of a certain wolf, you spend most of the time backstage with them, watching them either on the TV in the waiting room, or directly behind the backstage.
You never had the chance to watch from the audience due to your relationship with the girls, you were important to the members. A big brother, a drinking buddy, a listener, a friend, best friend even, and then boyfriend to her. They couldn’t let you stay in the audience during their performances.
Somewhere deep inside of you, you missed those days, days you spent with the girls, taking care of them and having fun with them, to be with the one you love, no, loved.
You find it hard for yourself to forgive her, you already did that once, after all. All the love and energy spent on her, to be reciprocated with betrayal. Not only once but twice. Who does that kind of thing? Who betrayed the trust of someone who loved them very dearly that easily?
The more these thoughts resurface, the more your heart ached. Not for her, but for the relationship that you lost because of her. How could you stay with the girls, now that your relationship with one of them is strained? They know her longer than they know you, so whose side are they going to take?
While you fall back into your deepest thoughts, you fail to recognize the venue’s light dimming, as screams begin to echo out from the fans. Only when you hear their voices do you awaken from your thoughts, to be greeted by the girls standing on stage, already performing the first song with the fans chanting along with the music.
You turn to the side, to also see your friend excitedly chanting along with his broken Korean, much to your amusement.
As for you, you were never one to like the crowd, so you just stayed seated, watching the performance with mixed feelings in your heart.
Your eyes soon glued onto her.
Your ex, the one you loved so much, but also the one who broke your heart into pieces. She seems to be doing ok, you thought. Her stage presence is much better than before, and so is her confidence. Despite projecting a cold image, she has always been somewhat timid behind the curtains. It took you many hours of encouragement and pep talks to give her the confidence boost she needed, and to see her like this… You can’t help but be proud, just a little bit.
Before your mind can start treading into forbidden memories, you turn to another person.
Your “Bunny”.
Well, you don’t think you have any right to call her that anymore, after all, it was you who cut her off when you moved overseas. Admittedly, it wasn’t right for you to just cut her off like that, when you and she have shared so many things together, the both of you going way, way back. But in your emotional state, you couldn’t bear to see or hear anything that would be remotely related to your ex. And so, in a fit of rage and depression, you changed your number, cutting off every relationship that you had in Korea, except for your family.
As the concert goes on, you barely pay any attention to the performance itself, too busy drowning yourself in your thoughts as you drift back and forth, in and out of your head, between happiness from seeing the girls again, to sadness that you’re seeing your ex again, to depression and guilt of you cutting them off from your life.
Before you even know it, the concert is nearing its end, with the girls doing the encore song while having fun on stage.
I don't need nobody to move my body
All me with no strings attached
I don't wanna be somebody who
Lets somebody hold me if they hold me back
I just wanna dance, dance
Dance on my own (dance on my own)
You can’t tell if there is a hidden message to this song or something, but you feel like this song just hit a little bit too close to home. Maybe that’s why you’ve been looping it a lot these days. And it’s hitting you hard right now, seeing that your ex is one of the people singing it on stage as well.
How ironic is that?
When she was the one that betrayed you and now singing that she can be by herself? You tighten your fists as tears start to gather in your eyes as rage and sadness begin to cloud your mind. How can she sing that so-
No.
Before you can go any further, you mentally restrain yourself. As expected, you’re losing control over your emotions because you can see the worried look on your friend’s face as he glances over to check up on you.
“Bathroom.” You manage to utter one word before standing up and leaving your seat, and your friend behind.
“Fuck.” You swear to yourself once you enter the bathroom. Making your way to the sink, you splash your face with water in some false hope of cooling down your mind. “Get it together.” You look at your drenched face in the mirror.
“It’s almost done, just a little bit more.” You talk to yourself in the mirror, like some madman who’s off his meds. Luckily, no one is here to judge your weird behaviour.
After a few more minutes of talking to yourself, you gather enough courage to return to your seat. But right as you leave the bathroom, you see the man in black hoodie from earlier walking by.
Now, as any normal person would do, you are going to return to the seating area to calm down an undoubtedly very worried friend. But once again, your gut feeling is telling you that this guy is bad news. And your gut feelings are usually never wrong. After all, it was your gut feeling that made you suspicious of cheating in the first place.
So, you decide to trail behind the guy, lighten your steps in order not to make any sounds. The man just keeps walking forward, his steps heavy and hurried. He’s walking with a purpose, there was a destination in mind, and you can’t help but keep following him, all the way to the backstage area.
Seeing how the guy knows how to avoid security, your suspicions are confirmed by now, but for safe measure, you kept your distance from him.
Then you heard noises, more specifically, chatter and laughter. You can recognize their voices everywhere, even if you aren’t up to date with them anymore.
Oh no.
The man starts to pick up the pace after he hears the voice heading towards a fork in the hallway, prompting you to do the same. You see him pull something out from his hoodie’s pocket. You can’t see what it is, but it’s shiny, you start sprinting after the man now.
You’re catching up to him. But he’s also getting very close to the girls, their laughter can be heard closer and closer.
Faster.
Now’s the time that you put all the efforts you made in the gym to good use. With a short burst, you catch up to the guy, and promptly crash your shoulder into him, pushing him into the wall in front of the girls just as they arrive, earning screams and yells from them. But you can’t hear them.
With the collision, the both of you fall onto the ground, the object the man was carrying seconds before fall off his hand, landing on the ground. A pocketknife.
The man glares back at you, his hood already fallen, yelling “You motherfucker!” in fluent Korean, stunning you for a brief second.
Because, you know this man.
He was the one that Hyeju cheated on with.
That brief stun period is enough for him to land a kick in your face, before scrambling for the knife. Thankfully, the pain is enough to wake your senses up, leading you to get on your knees and lunge for the man, using your entire body weight to land onto him, before your arms quickly find their way around his neck, tightening the chokehold you have on him while he struggles to break free by bashing his elbows against your ribs.
You grind your teeth and tighten the hold even further, ensuring the man has no way to escape, before you feel him going limp on your arms, and you being pulled out someone, presumably the security.
Looking at the unconscious guy, you smile faintly to yourself, maybe those Jiujitsu classes weren’t that useless after all.
Everything immediately afterwards is somewhat of a blur to you, not to mention the adrenaline subsiding and the pain kicking in. The fact that you encounter not one, but the two people responsible for betraying your trust back then and in such a situation as well.
From what you can deduce, Hyeju probably cut contact with him out of guilt, and him being constantly denied contact probably drove him crazy. Looking at the unconscious guy again, you can’t help but let out a sigh. What can you say?
Karma’s a bitch.
Although you feel a tinge of relief learning that small piece of knowledge, you still don’t particularly feel like you are in the mood to answer some questions from the security.
But you are cautious enough not to stand near the girls though, in case they recognize you because they sure did recognize the other man, as evident by Hyeju’s trembling. As happy as you are to see the girls up close again, you don’t think your heart can take any more than this, so, you take what you can get.
After a brief question, you start to head back to the seating area, your head thinking of what excuse to use for your worried friend. Before you leave though, you hear the voice of the girls calling for you, and as much as you want to just ignore them, that would be too rude of you.
“Thank you so much for helping us, mister.” Haseul speaks up for the girls.
“It’s nothing, I just did what anyone else would do.” You smile lightly.
“But your glasses were broken because of it, was it not?” Indeed, your glasses were broken, but you don’t really need glasses to function day to day and you just want to get out of here as fast as possible.
“I can still see fine, so don’t worry Miss. Instead, I think you should focus on comforting your friend over there, she seems quite shaken, no?” Your attempt to divert the conversation is a success as all the girls turn to the shaken Hyeju, talking amongst themselves before heading back, not forgetting to give you a small bow when they leave.
Except for one person though.
“Oppa.”
Shit, of course it’s Heejin. That girl has always been observant when it comes to you. But that isn’t enough for you to give up.
Keeping up with the façade of not knowing Korean, you pretend to not hear it and just keep walking. You can hear her calling you “oppa” repeatedly again. But you aren’t going to stop. The moment you cut her off, you stop being best friends. Not anymore.
“Pooh, is that you?”
Pooh.
Such a stupid name.
Yet, you stop dead in your track at the mention of that name, no one has ever called you by that in years. It was from way back in their childhood. Something your parents lovingly call you due to your chubby figure back then. Something that Heejin also called you, joyful of having another ‘victim’ being called by a nickname, after gaining the ‘Bunny’ nickname from her parents. At least, all the way up to when you started dating Hyeju, at least.
That name should have stayed buried in the past. Why did she- No, the question here should be, how did she figure you out?
“You look surprised.” Standing frozen in the spot, you can see Heejin walks into your view from behind, smiling lightly. “Did you really think that, by growing out your hair and beard, and bulking up, that I would not recognize you?”
Her eyes look up to yours, and you can see the anger, the disappointment in her eyes, but also relief and genuine joy upon seeing her best friend again. “Was our friendship really that shallow to you, Pooh?”
Guiltily, you can’t bring yourself to face her directly, your eyes diverting from her face. You’d rather look at anything else than to see her right now, if not you feel like the wall that you’ve spent years building might not collapse on the spot.
“You don’t have to say anything.” She whispers. You can see streams of tears rolling down her cheek. Your heart hurt more at the notion of Heejin crying, especially because of you. “I’m glad that I got to see you again, even if it was for a moment.” You feel her hand resting on your cheek, gently caressing it with her thumb going along the grooves of your beard.
“My goodness, you’ve really changed, haven’t you.” A small chuckle. “Goodbye, Pooh.” As you feel your palm leaving your face, you can hear the crumbling of the walls surrounding your heart. Years of steeling yourself, but all it took was just a moment with Heejin to bring it down.
“Wait.” You utter, your hand grasping onto hers to prevent her from leaving. Before she can react, you pull her into a tight hug, whispering to her. “I’m sorry, Bunny. I’m sorry.”
Taken back by your action, Heejin seems to be silent.
One second passed by.
Two seconds.
And then you can feel her body trembling as her arms try their best to hug around your huge frame, her face buried into your shoulder as she lets out choked sobs.
“How could you leave us like that? Leave me like that?” She cries into your shoulder. “Was our time together not even worth it for you?” Her grip on you turns tighter. “How could you…”
Her words are like a knife piercing your heart, you know you’ve done something wrong to her and the others. So, all you can do is try to compensate for it. There’s no turning back now, Heejin would not let you leave if you don’t leave her your phone number, and the girls are going to know about this sooner or later.
The girls… Are you ready to face Hyeju again? After all this time?
You forcefully stop yourself from thinking further. That can be dealt with later. You have a crying bunny to appease.
-----
As expected, after a good 10 minutes of crying, Heejin gave you 2 options: either give her your number, or you follow her back to her hotel. Without any real options, you reluctantly give her your number, only then was she satisfied enough to let you leave.
After that, you had to deal with the situation that was your worried friend. Thankfully, he bought your excuse of being stuck in toilet due to constipation and the both of you part way after chatting for a bit.
Which brings you to right now: lying flat on your couch, physically and emotionally exhausted from the chaotic evening. You just want to take a long, long sleep now.
Before you can even drift off to sleep, your phone begins to ring nonstop. Looks like the night isn’t over yet.
“Hello?” You pick up the phone.
“You still awake?” You can hear Heejin’s voice from the other side.
“Yeah, thanks to a certain someone calling me.”
“Hehe~ Anyways, I’m only in the city for tomorrow before heading to our next destination, can we meet?” Despite performing for around 4 hours straight, you can still feel the energy in her voice. Unconsciously, you start to smile as well, infectious of her energy. Just like old times.
“Lucky for you, I have tomorrow off, so let me sleep for now and maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.” Despite losing contact for so long, the two of you still converse like nothing ever happened. Like you were never apart. Joking and teasing like the old times.
“You better show up, you hear me?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Go get some sleep Bunny, it’s been a long evening.”
“Mhmm, see you tomorrow, Pooh.” Again, with the nickname. You feel like you’ve already outgrown it. Even your parents don’t call you that name anymore, but Heejin keeps on using it, and you don’t know why.
“Goodnight.” Deciding that it’s been long enough, you hang up first, and without even moving to the bedroom, just lay on the couch until sleep takes you.
-----
“Ah, wait!” Heejin pouts, looking at her phone. “This guy, still hanging up like that, maybe he didn’t grow that much after all.” Even while complaining, Heejin still has a smile plastered on her face.
When you left them 3 years ago, cutting off all contact, she was devastated. In one night, she lost her best friend of 20+ years, and her crush. It was with the joint effort from the rest of Loona that she is still willing to co-exist with Hyeju.
Even as groupmates, she can never forgive Hyeju for what she has done to you. Who would she side with: a groupmate of a few years, or a best friend of 20+ years? Being an idol might be her dream work, but she would never abandon you.
Ever.
And now, after years of sulking and wallowing in depression, she’s met you again with a stroke of luck. Though she can tell that you have changed a lot throughout the years, something just can’t be changed. Like how you were willing to hurt yourself to save others. Heck, you just saved the girls this evening after all.
It’s regretful that she can’t stay here for long, but now having a way to contact with you again, she will make sure to make full use of it-
“Unnie?” She turns to the open door, being caught off guard while thinking to herself. She sees Hyeju standing just outside the door. “What do you need?” Despite her best effort, Heejin’s voice still comes off as quite cold, which is understandable.
“Just now, you were talking with oppa, weren’t you?” she asks with a bit of trembling in her voice. “And it was him who saved us this evening?”
Heejin scoffs, not wanting to let Hyeju figure anything out. “Just a friend, not him.”
“But you only called one person ‘Pooh’.
Heejin’s eyes widened at that. “How much did you listen?” Hyeju turns timid at her glare. “The- the whole thing…”
Heejin faces palms herself. “And what do you want?” She isn’t trying to hide the venom in her voice anymore. “You betrayed him, twice at that. What more do you possibly want to do to him?”
Gathering her courage, Hyeju looks back at Heejin defiantly. “I want to…”
A/N 2: teehee, here’s your 5k words xD
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Spring Break - Cheerleader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Summary: Every year during Spring Break, you travel to a camp filled with outdoor competitions. It comes with a bonus of facing your rival from back when the whole thing started, and there's nothing more attractive than Wanda Maximoff kicking your ass in every game. Some might say you let her win just to see her smile, but maybe that's loser talk.
Warnings: (+18), enemies to lovers, so much teasing and bickering, a lot of making out and kissing, bottom!Cheerleader Wanda being a tease, soft first-time smut, semi-public, gays who can't keep their hands off each other, fluff, mild angst when they’re being stubborn, friends being done, high school but summer camp vibes, happy ending i promise. Words: 11.176k
A/N-> I’m back with enemies to lovers (and some smut finally). This fic is quite old, but it was abandoned; after seeing Wednesday and Bianca dueling I regained inspiration for what I was doing in the 5k that was already done. You can thank Netflix for this one. I wasn't sure whether to split it into two parts or not, but I think I have longer fics than this one so I decided to post them all together. If you notice there's a pause, because I wrote it as two different parts, you didn't.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad
--//--
There was something about pissing you off that made Wanda twitch.
It started so long ago, when you first bumped into each other at Avengers Camp three years ago, and Wanda had the best and most stressful Spring Break since high school began; all because you were there and she was winning.
Now, senior year had arrived, and the annual tradition of joining the spring games for an entire week in the middle of nature at one of the most renowned vacation camps in the United States was going to happen again.
Wanda likes to believe that she was not expecting this. It would actually be absurd to admit that she waited, every year, for the familiar image of your old Danvers cap and your bored expression leaving the bus that brought your schoolmates, but if Wanda would be honest, now sitting in the driveway waiting for their driver to finish unloading the car while she lets her gaze run across the entrance courtyard of the Camp, pretending not to look for someone and yet feeling her whole body warm-up when she recognizes the female figure in the crowd of students from the rival school, Wanda has to admit a few things. First, you grew annoyingly attractive every year. The second, she couldn't wait to beat your ass at every game.
"Man, I can't believe we're competing with the Skrulls again, it's the third year in a row." Her twin's complaint made Wanda blink away, her face half-reddened with fear that she had been caught staring. But Pietro seemed busy enough with his own complaints.
"Well, at least we're winning." Wanda retorted making him laugh.
"Fair point." He said and looked at her. "Speaking of which, do you know what games you'll be competing in this year yet?"
"Um, I think I'll check with the girls first. I don't want to end up alone in swimming like last year." Wanda mutters and Pietro nods in understanding.
Soon the monitors are addressing those who have already arrived, and Wanda loses sight of you - not that she was looking - and busies herself with going to the cabin that would be hers for the next week.
You, on the other hand, lose your bag in a pile.
"God, why does this always happen." You grumble in irritation as you manage to see the handle of your blue suitcase, below a few hundred others.
"Every year, Y/N. And I keep saying, carry your bag on your lap, and you keep ignoring me." Your sister, Carol, comments beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You roll your eyes, gently pushing her away. Carol is happy, with her dark, safe suitcase under her arm.
"Stop bugging me and help me." You grumble and she laughs before trying to find a better position for you two to pull your bag together.
With a little effort, you manage to pull your backpack out, and you stumble backward with a grunt - bumping into someone who keeps you from falling to the ground - as Carol pulls your bag out of the pile.
"Yay, teamwork!" She celebrates on the other side, but you are busy turning to thank her who held you up, only to face your best friend with a small smile.
"Bucky!" you greet him excitedly, turning your body to hug him tightly by the neck, and laughing when he spins you in the air.
You met Bucky at camp, and despite going to a rival school, you had enough things in common for the friendship to grow strong even though he was studying and living almost on the other side of the country. Fortunately, Skype and Whatsapp existed, and even as spring ended, you were still friends.
"Hello, my favorite Danvers. " He greets like that only to annoy your sister behind you, who rolls her eyes and chuckles, moving closer to hug him as well as soon as you let go. "How was your trip, girls?"
"Y/N slept the whole way." Carol replies.
"And Carol ate the whole way." You accuse taking your bag from her hand and ignoring the grimace to add, "Oh, no, wait, I made a mistake. She was actually daydreaming about Natasha Romanoff."
"Shut up!" Carol grunted quickly, trying to hit you, a soft pink appearing on her cheeks. You fled from her hands, laughing and running toward the check-in booth where the monitors were calling out names, and Bucky shook his head for interaction watching your sister run after you.
Avengers Camp was huge, and besides the cabins divided up among all the students who stayed there during the vacation seasons, there was a lake, volleyball and tennis courts, an auditorium, and even an arcade.
You were lucky to end up in a cabin with your sister and the other girls in your class - the brilliant Gwen Stacy and Darcy Lewis - who didn't seem too interested in the sports competitions but would surely win any of the scientific tests.
After packing up, all the campers were called to the main cabin, where there were tables scattered throughout the area, where the teenagers were seated ready to enjoy the delicious lunch and listen to the welcome speech.
Nick Fury was the Camp Director and no one could ever tell the real story behind his eye patch, each year new campers came up with new legends that made you laugh - like the story that an alien cat had been responsible for cutting the limb off.
"[...] It gives me great pleasure to welcome the honorary Skrulls from California!" Announced Fury and all the students of your school made a chorus of claps and shouts of celebration, banging on their desks. Fury laughed from his seat in the center of the room, waiting for the commotion to pass before announcing the other school. "And equally welcome, the so-far undefeated champions of the Spring Competitions, the Avengers!"
The rival school made an even better commotion, almost starting a food war. But you were having fun, even though your school had never beaten the Avengers in their home, it was to be expected that they would want to keep their camp as an undefeated venue. Even though last winter during the interclass event, the soccer team lost badly to another school. There was a taunt among the students that if the Avengers played away from home, they would lose. But you and the rest of your school were more interested in proving that you could beat them anywhere, and this was your last chance to be part of it.
As Fury continued with the general announcements - about the rules, and the competitions, concepts that were already very familiar to you after three years - you felt Bucky pull your cap off your head, muttering something about manners that made you laugh.
You were adjusting the tousled strands of hair when Carol gave you a gentle nudge.
"Your majesty will speak now." She sneers and you aren't even confused, knowing full well what this is about before you even raise your eyes to the center of the room again, and feel your stomach do a full turn at seeing Wanda Maximoff step up to the podium with the confidence and posture worthy of a queen.
You met Wanda in first grade, and from the first conflicting interactions, you have an obligation to call her a princess. Because the perfect little girl's posture is too annoying for you not to do so. This, and the fact that her father is a famous politician, and the family is deep in the money, kind of lives up to the nickname. Also, it gives you real amusement to see the pink in her cheeks when you call her that.
And Wanda, of course, is the representative speaker at the games. So every year until she graduates, she announces the competitions and collects the names, as well as basically running the whole thing with the other monitors. It's like Queen Bee and her subjects, and neither you nor any of your friends stop making fun of it.
"I didn't think the Maximoffs were going to come this year." Bucky comments low beside you, as Wanda announces that year's games. And you frown in confusion.
"What, but Wanda has basically been representing this competition forever." You reason, but Bucky shrugs his shoulders.
"I know, but I heard they were going back to their country for college." Bucky retorts. "And you have to admit, while Avengers Camp is fun, it's not worth much here for us to get admission points."
Carol murmurs in agreement. "Man, now I'm pissed they didn’t leave. Imagine a year without having to put up with Little Miss Perfect, a stolen dream." She mocks and you force a laugh, a strange feeling in your stomach. You should be happy at the possibility of not having to put up with Wanda. But it occurs to you that the games wouldn't be as much fun without her.
Clearing your throat, you poke at your food with your fork.
"I think I'll sign up just for racing this year." Bucky comments beside you. "We have Football season, and I don't want to end up accidentally hurting myself before the games."
"But you love wrestling." You say but he shrugs his shoulders, offering you a small smile.
It occurs to you as the announcements end, and students have to move to leave their names for the competitions, that the seniors are not very excited. Probably the stress of college admissions, you can relate to that yourself, still, it's a little sad to see how little participation from classmates your age.
"Danvers sisters, good to have you back for another year." Fury greets you excitedly as soon as you and Carol approach the registration stand - where there is a small crowd of students trying to choose which games they will compete in, and put their names on the prepared murals.
"Hey, Nick!" Carol greets back, doing a handshake that she never taught you with the principal. You merely offer him a smile. "How's the family?"
You took the attention away from your sister as you approached the mural that read Wildness Competitions, adjusting your cap slightly as you did so. There were many options for activities at Avengers Camp, and you usually chose mostly the ones that the public school wouldn't give you access to for the rest of the school year, like Hispism or Fencing, the latter being a secret talent.
"Well, if it isn't the Skrulls’ Golden Armor Knight." A female voice mocked behind you, and you were smiling before you even turned around.
"Maximoff, it's always a displeasure." You retorted sarcastically, your hands in your pockets. Wanda doesn't flinch at your rudeness, tossing her hair to the side as she approaches with some buttons which she as a representative, needs to put on the murals to signal about the teams.
"Having trouble picking your sport this year, Danvers? A suggestion, try to remember that you are going to lose no matter what."
"Really? 'Cause as far as I remember, that shiny trophy up there has my name on it." You retort nodding to where the fencing awards are set in the corner of the main hall. Wanda rolls her eyes. "But don't worry, princess, I'll go easy on you this year."
Wanda lets out a wry laugh, her eyes glittering in defiance.
"I guess it's more the other way around, huh?" She retorts. "Or in case you've forgotten, the highest number of wins is still mine."
Wanda had a point. You could win at Fencing all you wanted - and get the ridiculous nickname of Skrulls’ Golden Armor Knight from the girl just to annoy you - but Wanda still won everything. From archery to fighting to spelling. Never in a million years would you admit that maybe you were losing because you were busier trying not to be distracted by her annoyingly pretty face.
"Let's see how this year turns out." You tell her with clear defiance in your voice, and Wanda smiles, moving closer, and you swallow dryly, your body tensing up. But she is just reaching for something behind you - a jar with other buttons - and offers you an innocent smile.
"Game on, Danvers." She says, grabbing one of the items and placing it in your hands before turning around, hips swaying more than necessary as if she knew exactly where you were going to look, and you choke softly, your face heating up before you shake your head and focus on the badge in your hands. The symbol of your school pinned on it.
–//–
The first day of competitions was a complete success for the Avengers, which means it was complete hell for you.
Unlike basically all the rest of your colleagues who were taking it easy, you almost destroyed a snack machine that refused to deliver your energy drink after you finished in second place for the fourth consecutive activity. If anyone asked, you were annoyed because of the little victorious smile Wanda had on her face all morning, but no one asked, because Carol had to drag you away from the brunette to avoid you jumping on her neck and pulling that little smile off yourself.
"It's so strange to see you like this." Your sister comments as soon as you guys are so back at the cabin, and you flopped down on the bed, grunting irritably against the pillow.
Gwen - who participated in the short race and was still wearing the same uniform as you - handed Carol the small bottle of energy drink that the machine released after you and Wanda got into a heated argument.
"Like what?" you asked confused with your voice muffled by the pillowcase. Your sister laughed.
"So angry." She clarified by sitting down in one of the armchairs to take off her shoes. "I'm the hothead Danvers, you know? You're like, so good vibes all the time."
"I agree, and I don't even hang out with you guys that much." Gwen remarks before moving to grab her shower stuff. You prop yourself up on the bed with a chair.
"What are you trying to tell me?" You ask your sister, and she gives a short chuckle, shrugging.
"Nothing, I just think it's weird." She mumbles. "You're so calm usually, but just walk into the same room as Wanda and you turn into a ticking time bomb. It feels like she has some sort of switch, or as that other saying goes, of the matchstick and the spark-"
"This conversation doesn't make any sense." You interrupt by frowning and standing up. "I am as I have always been, and it's not my fault if Wanda is the most annoying creature on the planet who keeps wanting to beat me at everything. I'll be taking a shower before you come up with any other weird sayings."
The locker room was a complete mess, but at least you were distracted by Gwen's comments about the competition and about the Avengers planning a sleepover to care about.
Since the next competitions were not until the afternoon, you finished your shower and decided to put on a comfortable sweater to spend the next few hours with Bucky at the lake, and were just finishing putting on your socks when giggles attracted your attention.
Well, you recognized the sound, and you had a hundred insults ready to use, but when you turned your face and had the image of Wanda in a towel, they all disappeared with any other coherent thought.
She was laughing at some comment her colleague made, but when her gaze met with yours, her smile faltered.
"Hey, Danvers, nice running today." She complimented, the sentence loaded with sarcasm.
"Yeah, Y/N, congratulations on the silver medal." Wanda's friend, you think her name is Monica, said and unlike the brunette, she seemed completely sincere.
You didn't respond with more than a hum of understanding, suddenly hyperaware that Wanda was without clothes just a few feet away from you. Turning your attention back to your socks, you cleared your throat softly, trying to keep your gaze in front of you.
Wanda took up a locker three feet away from yours. You could see her figure out of the corner of your eye. Long legs exposed and-"
You cleared your throat again, shaking your head quietly.
"Are you going to watch the boys' race, Y/N?" It was Monica who asked - from the locker behind yours - and you frowned slightly.
"Hmm, I'm not sure." You muttered, feeling your face heat up when you saw Wanda take her underwear out of the cabinet. " I don't really have anyone to watch there."
"Really? But I thought you and that long-haired cutie were going out." Monica comments excitedly, and you turn your head to her with confusion. "What's his name again? Ben?"
"Bucky." You correct and don't notice the way Wanda is glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, pretending to be busy with her own clothes. "And we're not dating, he's just my friend. Besides, he decided not to run."
Monica makes a noise of agreement, and you look away because she is suddenly changing and you don't want to be disrespectful.
"We'll watch Pietro race, but I'd honestly rather hang out at the arcade." Monica continues. "We can play something after the race, can you call your sister to join us?"
"Sure, Monica." You mutter finishing your shoes. You stand, and turn around, ready to say goodbye, but you face Wanda without a towel and simply freeze.
She, despite the soft pink appearing on her cheeks, holds your gaze, a small smile threatening to leave her lips as she works to put on her bra. You let your gaze lower, your heart racing in your ears as the image of full breasts and down to her belly and-"
"O-kay, I'll see you later." You gasp with a very hot face, stumbling off the bench and running so fast from the locker room that you leave Monica with a confused expression.
"What was that?" She asks, and Gwen, who you didn't even remember to say goodbye to, shrugs her shoulders.
"I think she may be trying to avoid arguments." She suggests, and the comment makes Wanda sigh softly as she finishes dressing. "Speaking of which, Maximoff, any chance you'll go easy on Y/N? She gets stressed when she loses to you."
Wanda chuckles. " Not a chance."
–//–
One of the afternoon competitions, besides the boys' race, was archery. Which meant watching Kate Bishop, a girl from the year before yours, destroy all the older students. Her coach, Clint Barton, kept smiling proudly with each completed trial, and you overheard some students from the Avengers saying how he was sure to write a letter of recommendation there when the time came for Kate to enter the university.
However, this year you were distracted. Bucky and Carol were sitting next to you, clapping and whistling for Kate along with her friends - Yelena Belova, who was coincidentally the sister of your sister's long-time crush, Natasha Romanoff, and Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, the latter two being on the soccer team with Bucky.
While everyone was impressed by the long-range targets, you were trying to keep the image of Wanda out of your head. The problem was that ever since you saw her without a towel in the locker room, the curve of her waist, and of her breasts seemed to have stuck.
"Are you okay?" Bucky's voice snapped you out of your fantasy. "Your face is red."
"I'm fine." You mumble grudgingly, stretching out your legs and letting your cap cover your eyes. "I'm just resting my eyes."
"Kate just hit a target in the sky." He comments. " It was pretty incredible."
"I bet it was." You merely reply, the image of something far more interesting in your head. Bucky makes a confused face but doesn't insist.
When the next contestant was announced, you grunted softly and started to get up, muttering that you were feeling queasy and were going to get some air. The ironic comment about you being outside already made by Carol was ignored.
You ended up in the back of one of the huts, and as you leaned your back against the wood, you took a deep breath.
Stop thinking about her. Stop thinking-
"Victory is already ours but you didn't have to skip the game." The teasing made you flinch. On any other day, before what happened in the locker room at least, any comment from Wanda would have been rebutted with an equally sarcastic one. But the image of her naked torso was still fresh in your mind, insistent, and you just wanted to be left alone.
"Fuck off, Maximoff." Aggressiveness failed in your tone, as your voice faltered hoarsely over your thoughts. You didn't have time to fix your mistake - Wanda was already mockingly chuckling, slow steps toward you.
"You know, I've been practically fencing back home. I even have a private tutor now." She informs you, to which you just roll your eyes without patience, trying to look at everything but the girl in front of you. "Maybe it's time for that trophy to stamp another name."
You chuckled dryly, stealing a glance at her. "In your dreams."
"No, I'll just kick your ass in reality." She assures you finally close enough. "It'll be too easy, you're all distracted this year..."
Your breath hitched in your throat as Wanda simply began to move closer, eyes intense and provocative as her tone of voice. You stared at her in shock at the magnetic tension between you, wondering if she would have the courage to break the distance as you wished to do. Wait, since when did you-
"Maximoff, Danvers." The voice of one of the monitors broke the momentum completely and made you both jump in fright, away from each other as if you had been burned. "The game is still going on. What are you two doing alone here? I hope it's not another fight-"
"No, sir-"
"Go mind your own business, Logan." You cut off the apologies of the good girl next to you, practically pushing her out of your way as you moved away from the cabin wall. The monitor grimaced at the hostility, but you knew him long enough to know you wouldn't have a problem. Logan was like an older sibling, and you didn't need another in this position. "We were just talking, or rather, Maximoff was bugging me, as usual."
Wanda snorted angrily, but Logan rolled his eyes impatiently at the whole thing. "Back to the game, girls." He ordered, ignoring your grumbling that you were already walking anyway and waiting for Wanda to do the same.
She followed you back to the bow field - Surprisingly quiet. You were too busy trying not to think about her to notice, and at some point, you both took completely opposite directions, drifting apart in the crowd of students.
Carol, however, noticed you coming, and as soon as you were seated again, she looked at you with a frown.
"What were you and Wanda doing?"
The question startled you as if your sister had been able to read your last thoughts. You grimaced immediately, knowing that your face was blushing.
"What? Nothing." You assured quickly, irritation in your voice. "We just bumped into each other in the entryway."
Carol didn't buy the lie judging by the look on her face, but she didn't have time to question - Kate won the event undefeated, and a crowd of clapping and celebrations erupted in the open field.
With the last match of the day, and having won the vast majority of the challenges, the Avengers were happy enough for a Victory party - Which was nonetheless a direct tease to the Skrulls, who by some miraculous luck, if manage to win all the next day's matches, could win the tournament. In this way, the crowd took the celebration back to the camp's main campfire, where the staff arranged dining tables and benches for the first outdoor meal of the holidays.
Alcohol was obviously not allowed, and that never stopped campers from smuggling it between disguised water bottles.
As one of the athletes for tomorrow's competitions, you decided to stay away from alcohol - quite unlike your sister, who took advantage of vodka shots to build up the courage to talk to Natasha Romanoff.
You were watching her awkward attempts from a safe distance with Bucky beside you, laughing softly when the boy announced that he was also going to try his luck with the one he liked tonight.
The thing was, Bucky didn't like anyone - As far as you knew. So the information caught you by surprise.
"Wait. What?"
But he chuckled, waving to a front with his glass, and you frowned trying to find the person. It took you a moment to realize that it was Sam Wilson, Co-Captain of the American Football Team. Avenger.
"Wow, he's..."
"An avenger, I know."
You chuckle, hiding your smile as you look down at your soda glass. "I was going to say handsome."
Bucky was blushing. You gave him the privacy to keep your gaze on Sam, knowing it would get worse if you stared at your friend.
"Fuck, yeah, I know." He gasped softly making you laugh.
"When did this happen?"
He shrugged. "I don't know, back at school?" He starts half uncertain. "We played together and he started to follow me on Instagram. One day, just playing conversation and even insults until it turned into a habit..." He jokes with a short laugh. "We came back here and it made sense. You know?"
You giggle at your friend's nervousness and clumsiness, finding the whole thing kind of adorable. "Yeah, I guess so." You say. "Go ahead, talk to him."
He sighs, deciding to turn his glass all at once before waving at you and heading off to talk to Sam Wilson.
Alone, you think about joining some colleagues closer to the fire, but nearby laughter catches your attention.
There is something about Wanda Maximoff's beauty that takes your breath away. And it's not fair that it seems to grow in the dim light of the moon and the stars. And Wanda, surrounded by her friends, laughing at something she has been told, with soft dimples in her cheeks, it is even more unfair the way the image makes your stomach turn nervously.
Has she always been beautiful like this, since her first win, and you were too busy with the game to notice? Or somehow, the school has changed you enough in the last year to notice that although Wanda was the most insufferable person you knew, she needs to be recognized as the most beautiful girl you have ever seen.
And then, if you think about it as you notice her not minding having her moment with her friends interrupted to help a freshman camper who seems lost as to where their cabin is, you'll realize that Wanda, when she's not competing with you and testing all your buttons, is not so insufferable. You will notice that she has always been kind and thoughtful and that people don't make her the leader of everything because she is rich or beautiful, but because she is the best at organizing games, and guiding people. And if you think about it, you will recognize that Wanda is just as tired as you are at the races, sweaty and breathless, and just as bright and hard-working at everything.
You suddenly think that Wanda deserved to win for the first time, as you have never acknowledged before. She must really be much brighter than you, because she surely wouldn't have taken all this time to realize what she was feeling.
Did it occur to you, so many years after you first laid eyes on her, that now you were really seeing her. There, near the campfire, accepting some more soda, so, so gorgeous.
'Fuck." You gasped in realization under your breath into the night, feeling something burn behind your eyes.
Wanda, as if she could guess, even sense the moment you pined for her attention, looked away for her friends until she met your gaze. She hesitated before assuming the same expression as always - Ready to torment you - but this time, you looked on the verge of tears when you stared back.
The second she noticed, she frowned in concern, all the masked arrogance falling from her face. But you didn't give her any time to react, you left your glass on the first table you could find and practically ran away from there. From her.
And of course, Wanda would be stubborn and insistent enough to follow you. Not daring to call your name on the way as if she guessed that you were going to run until you disappeared, or worse, turn to her and tell her to mind her own business.
When you walked inside the fencing hall, empty of course, she let her head work without thinking straight about what she was accusing you of.
You barely reached the sword cabinet when she walked in through the ajar door.
"I should have known you would try to cheat." She sneered convinced that she had caught you in the act. You froze, not for the reasons she imagines, your hands still on the closet lock. "That's sad, even for you, Danvers."
"Shut up."
She chuckled wickedly, crossing her arms as she stopped a little behind you. "Come on, if you admit it, I might consider not reporting you to the juries."
It was your turn to chuckle - Unlike her, almost tearfully. Wanda hesitated, confused, even more so when you turned to her, and your face had tears dried on the way there on your cheeks.
"Get out of here before I do something stupid."
But Wanda uncrossed her arms, concern on her face. "I've never seen you cry before."
"Wanda, I swear to god-"
"Not even when you broke your arm back in the first year." She recalls as she takes a step forward, and another, raising one of her hands toward your face slowly. You know you should move away, push her before she could realize how much you were trembling, how hot your skin was, but you couldn't move a muscle it. Wanda touched your cheek and you gasped, unable to keep your eyes open. "Sweetheart, what happened?"
It was so tender, so loving that your heart jumped in your chest. You almost sobbed, but instead, your emotions mixed and you raised your hand to her wrist, gripping hard but not pushing away, your angry eyes hiding insecurity that Wanda could only see because she knew you well enough, perhaps better than anyone else, even if neither of you had ever admitted this.
"Why do you care?" That's what you retorted, and it took her by surprise because Wanda didn't expect to have to answer that question. Not to her father, when she insisted that she was going back to Camp this year and he demanded a reason, nor to Pietro who questioned her why she still kept the brooch with the Danvers name on it that you lost to her in a card game in sophomore year. And even less to you, with tears in your eyes inside the hall of the only game she could never win. Her hesitation made you let go of her wrist, a tired sigh leaving your lips. "You don't. I...please, Wanda, just leave me alone."
You scared her. You looked so small, so insecure and uncertain, vulnerable. You? Never in a million years had you allowed Wanda to see you like this. She didn't know how to cope with it.
Your footsteps moved away, and by your breath, you were crying. She came closer but lost the courage to break your privacy. Her mind filled with anxiety - It didn't matter how long you had known each other. You were rivals, nothing more than that. Wanda had no right to invade your space.
"Go away." You insisted seriously with a voice hoarse with emotion and Wanda shuddered. It was different from the anger of losing - It was almost as if she had stabbed you in the back. Or had hurt you.
She swallowed dryly, and before you could repeat the order, she spoke:
"If I win tomorrow, you will tell me what happened."
The deal hangs in the air for a few moments, carrying the tension between the two of you. Wanda almost decides to leave without an answer when you sigh.
"What if I win?"
She smiles even though you can't see it. "You can pick your prize." She says and doesn't wait for you to think about it, clearing her throat before murmuring goodnight and leaving the hall.
You walk away to the trophy cabinet again and stare at one of the photographs of last year's Fencing team. You and Wanda are in it, in opposite positions. And for the first time in three years, you wish she were standing right next to you.
–//–
Sleep puts some sense into your head.
You were practically mortified with shame after thinking about the whole interaction with Wanda the night before, imagining that it now gave her enough power to somehow humiliate you and then hating that you thought that way of Wanda, who despite the rivalries, didn't seem the sort of person who would use a moment like that to mock you in the least.
So you had a foolproof plan the next morning: You would win fencing, and ask Wanda to stay away from you for the rest of the summer as your prize, succinctly hiding any unwanted feelings until it was time to leave Camp so that you would never have to see Wanda Maximoff again.
You think you were lucky this whole thing was happening in the last year.
The next day of competitions seemed to have been more aggressive than the previous one. To your complete happiness, the Avengers were irresponsible enough about the previous day's party to get careless.
The Skrull won the day's activities - Tight, you have to admit - but still champions. It wasn't all of them, unfortunately, but it would put both teams through to the final day of matches the next afternoon.
Fencing was one of the last competitions.
You managed to avoid Wanda and her worried glances all morning, and consequently, your friends and sister, who noticed the lack of fighting between you.
The fencing hall was considerably full when you arrived. Although most people didn't share much interest in the sport, everyone enjoyed watching you and Wanda compete.
She was already in uniform when you arrived, and you ignored with a tightness in your chest her attempt to search in your face for any discomfort from the previous night.
"You're late, Danvers." Professor Jacques Duquesne warned, also in uniform and with a sword at his waist. You sighed wearily, taking off your jacket to put on your uniform.
"Sorry, I... I didn't want to come." You muttered quietly, and the man frowned in confusion.
"What was that?" he asked without having heard, but you forced a smile.
"Nothing. Shall we get started?"
The spectators arranged themselves around you just as the teams were getting into position to compete. As Captains, you and Wanda were the last.
Your team won most of the duels, which on any other occasion would have cheered you up infinitely. But not today, because you spent most of the competition stealing glances at Wanda, who did the same, unsure of whether or not to approach you.
You had to face the champions of her team, as did Wanda with yours, and so when you finally went to face each other, you shared the slightly breathless but undefeated posture.
Wanda removed her protective helmet to drink water, and her slightly ruffled hair and rosy cheeks made your heart soar.
Somehow, you decided that teasing her was a better idea than complimenting her on how pretty she looked.
"Hey Maximoff, did Daddy pay for private lessons for the rest of your team as well?"
Your team laughed at the joke, but Wanda finished a long sip of the water leisurely, staring at you long enough to make you feel completely clumsy.
As soon as she returned the bottle to the table, she stared at you again.
"Are you really going to pretend nothing happened yesterday, Danvers?"
Everyone who was paying attention to the conversation whispered in curiosity, and your body froze. Wanda didn't seem to mind the audience one bit, but you huffed impatiently when Carol asked what she was talking about.
Without answering either of them, you turned your back and walked to the mat, waiting for the competition to begin.
As it turns out, teasing and ignoring Wanda seemed to have infuriated her. The hall filled with tension once the last duel began, and you, and all your confidence as an undefeated champion faltered when Wanda became a beast in the sport overnight.
She scored two points in a row, moving so quickly and masterfully that if you didn't have a reputation to uphold you would have congratulated her.
"It looks like we're going to have a new champion this year." Mr.Duquesne commented proudly and teasingly, receiving a chorus of soft celebration from the Avengers present.
You've had enough.
She tried hard to maintain a defensive position, but you scored within seconds of the announcement that the round had begun.
With the tip of the sword still on her chest, you teased:
"I guess we can't buy talent after all."
Wanda grunted angrily, without waiting for the next round to be announced, spun the sword striking yours, and resumed the duel. You fought back every blow with the mastery of a champion, but Wanda didn't back down once.
"What's the matter, Maximoff, can't get me?" You sneered between one defense and another, irritating her even more. When it looked like she was going to hit you, you spun your body around and hit her in the arm.
The audience, completely tense, split between boos and cheers of celebration. The teacher laughed impressed.
"It's a draw." He said. "Girls, get back to-"
But Wanda attacked you - For a microsecond, you managed to react in time and prevent her from scoring.
She seemed a lot angrier all of a sudden, and you kept up the defense, waiting for a gap that apparently she wasn't going to provide.
Long steps backward to avoid the sword in your direction, in an albeit hurried, fully coordinated dance, Wanda managed to take the fight to the outside.
The crowd got excited and drowned out Mr.Duquesne's protests about rules, the whole group following you and Wanda outside. Any campers who had previously been uninterested in watching the match took an immediate interest in the fight taking place, and it wasn't long before there was a large number of people in an open circle around the huts, trying to watch.
In one of the deflections, you had to do a somersault between two haystacks to dodge a blow that was impossible to block, stealing certain victory from the girl behind you, who grunted in annoyance.
In the motion, you knocked the helmet off your head.
"Going to play dirty then, Maximoff? Fine." You gasped equally affected at the girl who had paused her attacks. "It's our last year, let's make it count."
Wanda removed her helmet as well, her sword still raised for any attempted attacks. "I'm listening, Danvers." She returns between teeth, and you have to smile.
"I invoke a military challenge." You announce then, surprising her for only half a second. "No masks, no tips." You continue, the audience getting excited. "First one to draw blood wins. I might give you a nice scar to remind you who defeated you."
Some Skrulls laugh, but Wanda is not intimidated. She throws her helmet away and raises her chin in your direction.
"What about our deal?"
You swallow dryly, but try to disguise it. "Still standing."
A glimmer of a smile forms on Wanda's lips, and she has the nobility to wait for you to nod before attacking next time.
It's suddenly much harder to fight Wanda. You blame these stupid feelings on your chest because once you realize that if you hit her, you're going to hurt her, you just can't do it.
Wanda doesn't seem to have much of a problem with that, because she attacks you with fervor. You think you might lose, because of the way she starts cornering you, and no chance for you to do another flip, so you despair. If you lose, you'll have to confess why you were crying, and that's unacceptable.
She throws a low, clean hit, but you jump. Before Wanda can get ready for the next one, you grab her waist and pull her to you.
The protest about the rules is muffled in your ears as your lips crash against hers. Wanda gasps, closing her eyes and dropping her sword to the ground at the same second the entire audience goes completely silent, shocked.
It's good, no, it's incredible. As breathtakingly overwhelming as you imagined kissing Wanda Maximoff would feel. She gasps against your lips, pressing back, and your chest screams.
The audience vibrates and you wake up, realizing what you had just done.
You let go of Wanda with a long step away from her, who opens her eyes at the same moment, her breathing now affected for a completely different reason. She looks at you dumbfounded.
"W-what are you-" She tries as she steps forward, her hand raised towards your wrist, but you flinch. You raise your sword, and with one clean strike, hit her palm.
The cut is small, but it makes her grunt in pain and surprise. You feel like you might start crying again, but you declare in a hoarse voice:
"I won."
Wanda's eyes fill with tears, but you assume they are tears of rage by the way she begins to shout angrily in the teacher's direction, saying that you had cheated while trying to be heard as the audience begins to shout your name and spread out in celebration.
Duquesne is equally in shock and mutters that technically there isn't a rule about kissing your opponent.
They lift you into the air, with the trophy, but when you capture Wanda's head-down posture and the completely hurt look she gives you before turning away, you don't feel like you've won anything.
–//–
With an injury, Wanda was out of all the upcoming competitions, which were sure to count in the Skrulls' favor.
Your school couldn't be happier, and you couldn't be more miserable.
Wanda was walking around the camp with her hand bandaged and you just wanted to get away from the people who kept congratulating you on the duel.
There was also the matter of the angry stares from the other Avengers, especially your opponent's twin, which only made you feel like the worst person in the world.
When night came, and a few groups decided to set up card tables from poker to blackjack, you slipped outside to breathe properly.
The universe was surely testing you when you met Wanda across the door, and to add to your misfortune, she wasn't alone.
Some stupid guy was cornering her against the wall of one of the booths - clearly flirting by whispering things in her ear that made her giggle shyly.
With your jaw locked, you approached them in hard steps.
"Hey, Maximoff, I want to talk to you." You announced impatiently, feeling your chest burn with the scene in front of you.
She flinched at your sudden arrival, but the boy let out a short laugh.
"We're already in a conversation, cheater." He sneered, his hand on the wall coming down to Wanda's shoulders. "Why don't you go back to your cabin?"
"Listen here asshole-"
But Wanda sighed impatiently, pulling the boy's arm off her with a shove. "Fuck off you two, my day was bad enough to deal with this now."
She stormed off annoyed without caring, and you huffed impatiently. When the boy made mention of following her, you stepped in front of him, receiving a wry laugh.
"Back off, Danvers." He warned. "You may be a girl, but if you piss me off I'll break your face."
The kick to the ball made him bend his knees, grunting in pain. You didn't let him fall, holding him by the shoulders to mock against his ear:
"It's more the other way, don't you think?" He couldn't answer, still shaking from the blow. You pushed him away, and he fell to the ground, holding his front. "Stay away from her, she's mine."
Despite the pain, he gasped in confusion, "I thought you two hated each other, you maniac!"
Without bothering to respond, you headed off in the direction the girl had left.
Wanda was clearly not in the mood for conversation, but you had to chuckle as you realized where she was going - or practically running at hard paces.
The fencing hall was empty of course. Even the Professor had joined the rest of the staff for the day's celebrations, and so you followed Wanda without any concern.
"I don't want to talk to you, Danvers." She warned between teeth still on her back, hearing your breaths panting from the rush of having to catch up with her. You chuckle humourlessly, closing the door behind you.
"But you got time for some idiot to flirt with you?" your retort came out so bitter - so jealous - that Wanda turned her face to you with a frown in complete confusion.
"How is that your problem?" She demanded but you shrugged relaxedly. The lack of an answer only irritated her more. "I've had enough of you for today don't you think? Leave me alone."
You snickered taking a step forward that made her lock her jaw.
"Come on, what's this?" You teased. "One defeat and you get tired of all? Don't you even want to try a rematch?"
It was Wanda's turn to chuckle, the tension growing between the two of you with every second.
"So you can cheat again? Hard pass."
You smiled, raising your hands in the air as a sign of surrender.
"I don't need to cheat, Maximoff." You retorted. "Everyone, including you and I, knows I'm the best." You declare receiving a snort and a roll of the eyes. But you continue to smile, not losing your confidence. "In fact, I bet I can beat you even without a sword."
Wanda shook her head. "You know what, Danvers? You must have had a few beers, huh?" She deduced, motioning to the sword cabinet and continuing to speak without giving you a chance to deny it. "Any other day, I'd tell you to fuck off and leave me alone. But you were a brat today, that whole scene and whatever manipulation you were trying to pull off with the crying and then the kissing..."
You hesitate, losing your posture completely. "Wanda, I wasn't-"
But she chuckles, interrupting you. "Whatever it is, let's put an end to it." She says seriously, arming herself with one of the swords. "You got what you wanted. Me, out of all competitions because of this stupid injury and your team winning tomorrow. Yep, I admit it. Everyone knows you guys are going to win baseball, it's your school's specialty, and there's no reason to deny it. But let's be honest about today: you cheated. And I want you to acknowledge that I would have won."
You sigh, deciding to put an end to those games with each other, as Wanda wanted. But not in the way she expects.
Shrugging, you gesture with open arms. "I'm really sorry, Wanda." You say in a false tone of regret. "I'm sorry you're such a bad loser."
Wanda grunted in irritation, and in the blink of an eye, spun the sword around - Hitting your open hand and mirroring your bruises. You gasped in pain, taking a step backward.
"What the hell-"
But your shock was short-lived, Wanda moved and you reacted. Without a sword, your only option was to dodge and that was the hardest task.
"Just admit it, Danvers!" Wanda demanded between one blow and another, growing breathless as the movements went on. "I am. Better.Than. You." Each word was punctuated with an attempt to hit you - Not really to hurt but to lean in and mark.
She finally hit you for the second time when she trapped you between one cupboard and another. You protested in irritation at the gentle burning on your thigh.
"You little shit." You cursed low as you dodged her last. Wanda smiled in satisfaction.
Somehow, you managed to get around her after a miscalculated blow that pinned her sword to a cushion. Wanda got busy trying to pull the item out and gave you enough time to jump on her.
Her healthy hand tried to pull the sword out to hit you but you kicked the handle, and the item flew to the ground. Wanda protested breathlessly, trying to struggle away, but you pressed her against the wall of the room by the waist.
Faces flushed from the exertion and proximity, she looked at you with a fury in her eyes that didn't just look like anger.
"Fuck off, Danvers, let me go!" She demanded clearly affected, her fists closed against your shoulders. You weren't thinking straight - Since when did Wanda look so beautiful when she was pissed off? - She tried to throw punches but you grabbed her fists, holding them tightly against you. "You just can't help it, can you? You know you can't beat me and you just keep cheating!"
"Yeah, I can't help it." You pant, letting your gaze fall to her mouth. Her breathing hitches and when you start to lean in, Wanda gasps, stopping struggling.
"Don't." She asks in a whisper, and you stop leaning in the same instant, worried eyes scanning her face. Wanda's fill with tears. "I can't take it... if it's just a game... if you don't mean it."
Your heart races in your chest, threads of hope burning outwards.
You stare into her eyes, trying to read everything she hasn't explained. "You... You want me to mean it?"
Wanda sighs incredulously, tired.
"I've been waiting for you to notice me for three years, Danvers."
"W-what?"
Wanda looks away, despite her rosy cheeks like your own, she looks sad.
"I'm just tired of all this cat and mouse between us." She continues. "Trying to capture your attention for the few days we have together each year. You've never seen me that way, and I just don't have it in me to keep trying to get you to notice me." She declares with a sigh. "Let me go, okay? It's our last year, you'll never see me again after this spring, it doesn't have to be weird on our last days. We can do a truce, and be mature about-"
Instead of letting her finish her completely meaningless monologue for feelings that Wanda has no idea are much reciprocated, you just kiss her. Though abrupt, your lips are soft on hers. She shudders, first surprised and then affected, ready to reciprocate when you loosen her.
"I notice you, Wanda." You confess in a husky voice and short breath. "Every damn day of this camp, from the first moment I saw you. I noticed you, and I liked you. So much, it infuriated me. All I could think about was you and your face and your jokes and every little smile of victory. I never hated you, Wanda, I just hated how much I cared about you."
She gasps softly, trying to believe the confessions. "B-but you never said anything..."
"Neither did you." You retort with a small smile. "We just competed. Yelling at each other, trying to... just put it out, never saying the right words. Well, I'll do the honors, I guess. Wanda, I like you. I'm in love with you. The whole puppy love, to the moon and back, lovey-dovey, carry a torch for-"
Wanda interrupts your sweet teasing with a soft, emotional giggle. "Shut up, you idiot." She says, pulling you by the collar of the blouse to kiss you again. Slower than the other time, bringing delicious shivers to your entire body. She breaks away only to say she feels the same way.
Then you just kiss her again, just to make sure. It's easy to get addicted to the feeling of her lips on yours until her tongue slides over and starts to get too hot all around. The sound of lips slapping together mingles with affected gasps until the pace picks up and all the accumulated lust from so long of rivalry burns between you.
Wanda grows impatient - Her mouth firmly pressed to yours distracts you from where her hands are moving. You grunt affected as she scratches under your shirt, your back, and your torso, trying to pull you over her.
You press your hips together to keep her against the wall pulling out an affected whimper that makes you shiver - But surrendered to the urge, you forget about recent events and press your open palm to the wall for support. The pain is immediate and makes you break the kiss with a yelp.
Wanda opens her eyes worriedly, trying to push all the arousal away. "What's wrong?" She asks, but you're already bringing your bruised hand to chest height.
"I forgot about it." You mumble, trying to squeeze your hand to make the pain go away. Wanda bites back a smile.
"Karma's a bitch, huh?" she teases, getting a short laugh out of you. Your instinct is to kiss her again at the same intensity as before, but Wanda doesn't let you, breaking the session the next moment. "Easy tiger."
A little breathless and definitely missing kissing her, you ask, "Don't you want it anymore?"
She licks her lips, looking away to try and gain some rationality again. "I don't think you'll be able to do much with a bruised hand, huh?" It's clearly a joke, but you're too turned on to catch it.
"Well, I have another one, and my mouth..." Wanda stares at you in stunned shock, her face burning and her eyes darkening a little. You grunt in shame, hiding your face in her collarbone. "Shit, you didn't mean it."
She giggles awkwardly, wrapping her arms around your waist. "You need a bandage, baby. We'll have time for this later."
You raise your gaze to her again, and Wanda stares at you doubtfully from your expression. "I like it when you call me that."
She smiles, teasing and loving at the same time. "Better than shithead, I suppose."
"They both have their charm, I guess." You joke back managing to make her laugh before stealing a few more kisses.
All the way to the infirmary, all you can think about is how happy you are - And how your friends are going to adjust to the new dynamic.
–//–
Falling into a routine with Wanda was as easy as falling for her.
The familiar teasing didn't end - In a way, it got infinitely better, because, after each little bickering, you and Wanda made up with lots of kisses.
The most absurd thing was your sister's reaction. No surprise at all.
"I mean, everyone saw you two kissing." She retorted unimpressed, continuing to eat her breakfast as if you hadn't spent the previous day preparing the best way to tell. You huffed indignantly, but Wanda sighed, giving you a pat on the back before going to sit down. The same reaction for your friends, who seemed even somewhat reassured that now they wouldn't have to endure the arguing.
As for the rest of the people, well, everyone else had their own lives to take care of to give a damn about what Wanda and you have been up to.
With the baseball game approaching and the end of Spring Break, there was an understanding between you and Wanda that your time together was coming to an end. You didn't want to talk about it - to avoid creating impossible expectations if you considered the distance between California and New York and the hurt of an inevitable goodbye.
For now, you and Wanda were enjoying as much time together as possible, and that included escaping the game to make out before and between breaks.
Wanda giggled affectedly at the tickling your fingers did next to her hips, an attempt to make her relax to what was about to happen between you since the first kisses began. The question hung in the air and the way your breaths were uncompressed and your clothes crumpled.
"They'll start looking for us at some point..." Wanda recalled, the noise of the game resuming in the background, muffled by the closed doors of the empty locker room where you two were hiding. Despite the warning, her hands were entwined behind your neck, and her legs tight around your waist. The cheer skirt pulled up by your hands on her thighs.
You hum in understanding, distracted by the soft skin of her collarbone. You traced a path down to the valley of her covered breasts and Wanda shuddered, moaning in anticipation.
But as soon as your hands reached under her skirt, fingers playing with the fabric of her panties, Wanda tensed anxiously, biting her lips as she sought your gaze.
"Is everything okay?" You asked immediately, stopping your movements and staring back at her. "Do you want me to continue...?"
Wanda let out a broken breath, the look full of anxiety made you frown. You were ready to assure her it was okay if she refused when she replied:
"I want to but... I've never done it before." She confesses in a small whisper, and your heart skips a beat. "And also, I had to talk to my friends about this, and they told me it would be special because we like each other but I just kept thinking that it's going to happen and it will be amazing and when you leave, I'll never be able to do it again without remembering you and I'll be missing you back home..."
"Hey, breathe." You interrupted her anxious babbling with a small chuckle, moving your hands to her face, and squeezing her cheeks for a moment. "God, you're so beautiful." You murmured staring at her adoringly. Wanda blushed, looking away, "Hey, look at me, sweetheart. You want to talk about leaving?"
She swallowed dryly, nodding. "I'm sorry." She mumbles immediately. "I know we kind of agreed not to talk about it, but... fuck, I really like you. If I, you know... have sex with you, I'm just sure I'll fall harder. And I don't know if I want to go through the pain of losing you in a few days."
You swallowed dryly, caressing her cheeks as you absorbed her words. Wanda was even more nervous at your silence.
"Say something, please."
You smiled, staring at her. "I'm sorry, I just... I really am in love with you, Wanda." You confessed tenderly, making her blush. "Sex or no sex, I really am. And saying goodbye to you will hurt."
Wanda nods sadly before hugging you. "Yeah, I know." When she sniffles softly, you kiss her neck to calm her, until her breathing stabilizes again and Wanda releases you to kiss you gently, once and twice, until it starts to get hot again and she sighs against your lips, her trembling fingers groping your body unhurriedly as if she wants to memorize.
"Baby..." She called softly against your lips, her hands moving up into your blouse and making you shudder. "I want to make love to you." She whispered taking all the air out of your lungs. "Give me something to remember you by."
Despite the nervousness and excitement, you managed to tease as your hands retraced their way under her skirt. "What, the matching scars aren't enough for you, darling?"
Wanda lets out an affected giggle at the proximity to your joke about the healed bruises on your hands, but the sound turns to a deep sigh when her panties slip down her legs. You maintain eye contact with her, pulling the item down until you take it off by her ankles. Wanda bites her lip hard as she sees you on your knees, moving up your way again with kisses on her legs.
Her muscles quiver as you kiss the inside of her thighs, and Wanda inhales a shaky breath, her hands gripping the table she's sitting on tightly.
"Be gentle." She asks as she feels the kisses coming closer to where she is burning. You let out a soft laugh, rising again to kiss her on the mouth. Wanda has no time to be eager for the delay of her relief, because you grab her waist and pull her closer, the friction between your hips making her whimper.
Your tongue slides over hers hungrily, kissing her until she's dizzy with arousal, and instinctively starts forcing her hips against yours - The uncovered intimacy smearing the wetness on the fabric of your leg and making you moan against her.
One of your hands spreads her legs open by her thigh, fingers coming up fast to tease her entrance and make Wanda break the kiss with an affected whimper.
"Y-yes, baby, please, no more teasing." Wanda moans, throwing her hips against your hand. "I'm ready."
You grunt softly, tentatively cupping the folds between your fingers, spreading the wetness over the entire length. "Hmm, I can feel that." You teased softly, pulling your hand away to get a taste. Wanda choked, blushing heavily as she watched you suck your fingers one by one, rolling her eyes in pleasure as you tasted her. The next second, you moved your hand back between her legs, staring her in the eye before sliding a finger inside. She moaned at the intrusion, and you let her get used to it, encouraging her with your free hand on her back, relaxing her with a gentle massage.
"There you go... all the way in." You narrated softly, having to maintain all mental control not to fuck her roughly, feeling your body vibrate with the sensation of Wanda's soft wet walls on your fingerprints. She pulsed against you, her hands gripping your blouse tightly as the repetitive motion made her legs twitch. "God, you're so tight." You grunted, hiding your face in her collarbone and angling your palm to press against her clit as well. Wanda let out a loud yelp, wrapping one of her legs around your waist and increasing your reach.
"M-more, please-I just need-" She tried to formulate, starting to follow your movements with her hips. You shushed her against her neck, kissing your way to her ear.
"Relax, I'll give you what you need, baby." Was your only warning before removing yourself from her, only to sink two fingers inside next time. Wanda gasped at the intrusion, but you swallowed her moan with your own mouth, not moving inside her until she was ready.
Soon, your movements had resumed, and with your mouth glued to hers, you swallowed each breathless moan as Wanda began to tremble in your fingers, squeezing as her orgasm built.
Just as she was panting and restless, the locker room door opened. She raised desperate eyes to you, but you covered her mouth with your free hand and sped up your movements.
Your skin muffled her whimpers, and you bit your lips at the sinful image in front of you.
"Danvers? Maximoff? Are you guys here? The coach is looking for two." it was some of the monitors, probably checking the camp behind whoever was running away from the game. You reached a deep sweet spot inside Wanda and she threw her head back.
The monitor grumbled in frustration and the door closed again - You barely noticed, bringing the girl beneath you to her climax. Wanda spread herself in your hand, her body spasming against you and a long muffled moan against your hand.
Her pupils were so dark they nearly hold any green.
"Fucking gorgeous." You praised as you removed your hand to kiss her, and Wanda corresponded with difficulty, smiling breathlessly as she tried to recover from the intensity of her first orgasm.
As soon as she could properly match it, Wanda dominated the kiss - One hand moving up to the back of your neck, to tug at your hair as she bit your bottom lip, drawing a soft moan from you.
"Please, can we go back to the cabin?" It sounded like a request but felt like an order by the way Wanda dug her nails into your waist. A warning. "I want you to be comfortable when you go down on me."
"God, Wanda, you're such a tease." You grumbled in a mixture of arousal and embarrassment, moving like an obedient puppy as she stood up on shaky legs and guided you by the hand back to the cabins.
Her panties are tucked tightly in your pocket.
–//–
Disgustingly adorable, is how your friends would describe the last few days in the company of you and Wanda, who have apparently unlearned how to function away from each other.
Especially the last day - Without any concern for the rest of the world while in an intense make-out session against the bus that was supposed to take you and Carol back to California.
"Jesus, I'm going to have nightmares." Your sister complained with a grimace to her now official girlfriend - Natasha Romanoff - who was putting away the last bag in the family car that was going to take her home. The redhead laughed, looking at where Carol was staring and knowing she was referring to your hand firmly squeezing Wanda's ass as she giggled between the kisses you two shared.
"Why are they behaving like they're never going to see each other again? It's traumatizing." It wasn't Nat, but Bucky who spoke as he arrived with Sam beside him, who laughed in agreement. Carol made a mischievous face.
"Well, maybe that's my fault? I may have forgotten to mention to my lovely sister that Nat told me that Wanda was going to the same college as her next year."
"Pretty mean, Danvers." Nat commented with a certain pride in her voice. Carol laughed.
"When you share a room with a couple in love, you'll understand." She retorted. The group continued to watch you and Wanda, until you kissed deeply in farewell until she let you on the bus. Carol sighed. "Maybe if she starts whining on the way, I'll consider saying that she and Wanda chose the same college without even knowing it."
The group chuckled, saying goodbye one last time.
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“I’m the one who will have to watch you murder the world”
It’s so quiet, it’s always quiet now. The town surrounding Castiel was filled with vacant buildings, abandoned homes, and so many items scattered showing the hasty way that the people had to flee (if they were lucky enough to get away). Cas missed when there was noise everywhere, when there were cars, and children playing, when he could walk in a crowd and not be seen as the angel of death. The one who tells them to flee, the one who stands in wait.
It had become like a sick game over the years. Dean moved, ravaging everything in sight, and Cas did all he could to stay one step ahead. To herd people away, to warn them that he was coming. And then he does what he’s doing now, he waits for Dean. Tries to plan what he could possibly say or do. There have been times when it felt like he was close, when he got through to him even for a moment, but those moments always passed. Most recently when they had fought, there was a moment when he held Dean firm, angled towards the body of a woman that he had effortlessly cut away from this world, and made him look. Forced his eyes to her blonde hair, and her pale skin, and spoke in his ear of those he loved who could have easily been this woman: Jo, Mary, Jessica. Cas spoke their names like a prayer, hoping they would embed themselves deep in Dean’s skin, deeper than the mark could reach. Hoping the blood seeping into this dead girl's hair wasn't for nothing.
But it was.
The number of dead only continued to rise, and the shining light of Dean Winchester's soul only continued to darken. And all Cas could do was try, do as he had always done and follow Dean, to the very end.
“Just you and me again Cas?” Dean didn't try to hide, or sneak as he approached, they both knew Cas couldn't kill him (he had tried before) “Where's the rest of the party?”
“Dean.” Despite himself, he felt warm. Every time he got to set eyes on his friend without fresh blood on his hands, felt like a blessing. With everyone they had loved long gone, all they had was each other, for better or for worse.
“Still doing this cat and mouse bit? I move and you scurry?” his face was blank, no smile, no frown; like he was a god - or devil - forced to speak to an ant.
Some part of Cas could never stop seeing his Dean, troubled since he was a child but still always the brightest light in any room, at least to Cas. His soul was so full of love, the prime motivator for all his actions, leading him to pain over and over again. Cas could still see that soul, twisted and deformed by the mark, like thick scars, covering almost every surface. But still, there was always the memory of fresh skin, of the very thing that willed the wounds to heal. That was what was left of Dean’s once bright soul, scar tissue, desperately trying to recreate what was there before.
“What if I said no?” it was said before he had a chance to pull it back. A thought that had lingered in his mind for so long, one so tempting. No matter what he did, The Mark continued to push, murdering everything it could, consuming infinitely. Nothing could stop it, Castiel could not stop it. Effort, hope, love, none of these things could defeat The Mark. None of these things could bring Dean back from the hell he had created. And Cas knew even if the mark disappeared, the selfless man he knew, the righteous man, would never be able to deal with what he had done, how many he had taken from this world, the cries and begs that he met with the horrible wet thud of the first blade as it sunk into flesh, not sharp enough to fully slice, but not blunt enough to just bruise.
Dean didn't respond to the vague statement, just stared at Cas, just as angry and hollow as that day all those years ago, when the angel had warned him of this very moment. The horror that Dean had forced him to watch. Looking into those eyes, Cas knew it was time.
“We’ve been through much together, you and I” It was hard not to tear up as he tried to think of all the things he wanted to say “It may be selfish of me but I do not regret saving you”
Dean still stared, his eyes still cold. Cas thought maybe that was for the best.
“Knowing you has changed me, I am the person I am, because of you”
Cas allowed his blade to fall from his sleeve into his hand, Dean’s eyes fall on it, before looking back to his face.
“And even though you are no longer the Dean Winchester I once knew, I still consider you my family. The only family I have left, as I know I am yours”
Cas stepped forward, slowly, blade in hand until the two were less than a meter apart.
“You saved the world many times over Dean, maybe it is fitting that you are the one to end it. Maybe since you saved me, it too is fitting…”
Cas flips the blade, holding the handle out to Dean
“That you end me too.”
They look at each other for an age, Cas’ eyes tearful, Deans hollow. A million lifetimes worth of connection between them, whether it is wanted or not.
It's slow as Dean’s hands reach up to take the blade, not a mad rush of bloodlust, but the natural conclusion to their story. An ending that was always there on the horizon, inevitable and all-encompassing. Castiel always knew he would die for Dean Winchester.
When the blade sinks into his heart, he knows it is final, God has abandoned them and there is no one to bring him back. Dean's hands come up to lower his dying body to the ground, but his eyes are still dark. All scar tissue, nothing left.
AO3
#castiel#cas and dean#dean winchester#dean x castiel#deancas#deancas fic#mark of cain#mark of cain dean#spnfandom#spn fanfic#destiel fic#destiel
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*sigh* incubus reader pulling jeremiah out of the microwave and into the empty corridors of the church for an impromptu dance before dipping him and leaving before the old man can get a proper kiss
"Mr. Priest~ Spend time with me, won't you? I'm bored to tears."
"Mhm." Jeremiah pays you little mind as he snuffs out varying candles, pausing to stroke your horns as your paths cross. "Patience, my dear. You will have more of my time than you know what to do with soon."
You groan. This man converts your last meal into a member of his weird cult, forces them to break contract with you, and creates one of his own only to never have any fun. Sure he threatened to slaughter your entire race for not complying, but honestly that feels like the better option in opposite to this bore of a nightmare.
"But I wanna play now. The souls you give are nice, but I'm wasting away here."
You hop off the bench you whine upon, snaking your hands around Jeremiah's neck as you jump on his back. "Just think about all the things we can do. You may not be human anymore, but I know your desires. I've seen you undressing me with those eyes of yours... As if you playing keep away with me and your flock isn't clue enough for how obsessed you are with me."
Jeremiah swallows hard as your fangs nip his earlobe; claws caught in the chain of his cross. A self made man of the God shouldn't give into such temptations, but Jeremiah now had his own ways regarding worship. Still, he could not submit to you just yet for he still needed to rewrite the wrongs of his fallen Lord and remake the world into a place worthy of your combined grace.
Being a holy disciple truly was the greatest burden to bare.
"Just hold on a little longer for me...." Jeremiah kisses the back of your hand before ripping himself free of your hold. He walks over to a record player and grabs a vinyl from a crate on the floor.
"Enjoy some music until I am done."
You try your best to, but even the man's taste in music is boring. Some classical piece better fit for a ball rather than a technical date between a demon and a priest. You tap your foot along to the rhythm for an attempt at find some solace in the beat, a devilish grin working up your face as an idea pops into mind.
You creep up behind Jeremiah.
"Y/n, I said wait- What? What on earth are you doing? Let go."
You tug on the collar of his robes as you grip his shoulder, spinning him around to face you. The look on tour face makes his decrepit heart flutter, and anxiety levels to rise. You place an arm behind his back and grab hold of his wrist as you twirl across the floor to the center of the room.
Jeremiah hisses. "Y/n this is not funny. I am a very busy man."
"Aw, come on. I've been around for a couple hundred years and with whatevers going on with you you'll be here for a while too. Live a little."
You wrap your tail around his waist to prevent him from escaping, chest bumped up against his. The close proximity leaves Jeremiah with little choice but to subcome to your influence- nor does his will. He follows your lead as your steps slow and steady into a waltz.
"See? Now you're getting into it."
"Quiet." Jeremiah rests his hand on the curve of your spine and completely shuts off any distance between you; your laughter the sweet cry of angels as it plays in his ear. A little tame compared to what you orginally had in mind, but it wasn't so bad. You slow dance together for a while until the devil in you decides to have some more fun.
You lead Jeremiah near the benches before securing your hand on the center of his back and twisting your tail down to his calf to further throw him off balance as you drip him low. You stare into each other's eyes; your body guiding his into the seat before you mount the man as you work your fingers into his bleached locks. He closes his eyes as you drawn in, his reward for his obedience a single lick.
"See you later, Jeremiah."
The weight disappears from his lap and you from his sight as he opens his eyes. Jeremiah growls in frustration.
"Y/n? Y/n, get back here at once!"
No response - your giggles echoing from a far corner of the church. Jeremiah follows the sound of your voice. By the time he's done with you, hell would be a paradise you'd never see again.
#Jeremiah my oc#Yandere priest#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere scenarios#yandere headcanons#yandere insert#yandere blurb#yandere x you#male yandere#yandere imagines#demon reader#Incubus reader#yandere drabble
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It’s not the first time Steve has to call an ambulance that does it.
The first time he’s fucking terrified, coming home from a long shift at the new Blockbuster down the street and dinner after with a coworker only to find his boyfriend, passed out on the floor of their shared apartment. He panics, at first, because what the fuck is he supposed to do, and then he gets it together and calls 911. The paramedics won’t let him in the ambulance so he follows behind in the beamer, white knuckles the steering wheel, all the way to the hospital. They won’t let him go all the way in and he paces for hours in the waiting room, drinking shitty hospital cafeteria coffee, before the nurse finally tells him where to go.
And the thing is. The thing is it makes sense. Eddie’s been struggling since the Upside Down. So has Steve, to be honest. They’ve both been crashing, different vices, different issues. So the first time he has to call the ambulance, he gets it. It makes sense, even though it hurts. Sometimes things happen, and Steve can’t fault Eddie for one night of too many goddamn whiskeys. Hell, he’s come pretty close to that point himself, more times than he can count lately. He makes a promise to himself to be better, to be there when Eddie needs him.
To be enough.
It’s not the second time he calls the ambulance that does it either, because as much as that one hurts, it still makes sense. Eddie on the ground gives his brain Eddie in the Upside Down, broken and bleeding and almost fucking dead and Steve calls the ambulance but he chugs a beer back before he follows in the beamer. And fuck, they’ve been through it, haven’t they? Eddie’s been trying but of course it’s going to be hard. People make mistakes and god knows Steve’s made his own, so who is he to do anything but try. Try harder to make Eddie see he doesn’t need this shit. To make him see that Steve loves him so much, loves him enough for both of them, loves him enough to get them through it. So that’s what he does.
He tries, even though he’s failing too. There’s beer in the house and he gets it, now. How much it helps to keep the noise down.
They’ve been fighting about it, even though they don’t have much else they fight about.
So of course he gets it.
The third time he has to call hurts even more. Of course it does, it screams Eddie’s failing and you’re failing and why can’t you be good enough, why can’t you love him enough to fix it. But the hurt is washed over by anger because how can he keep doing this after everything they’ve been through? Hours of meetings together. Weeks of Eddie off in rehab. Whispered promises that it’s done, it’s over. You can’t beat addiction but you can control it. They can focus on them. Maybe start that family they keep talking about. It’s behind them now. It was supposed to be behind them.
But it’s not even the third time, because the third time when Eddie wakes up he looks devastated but he still manages a smile. Still manages to say, voice rough because of the intubation, third time’s the charm, right baby? And- the average addict relapses four times, but I’ve always been below average, huh? I can feel it. This is gonna be my year.
And Steve’s not perfect either. He’s doing better, yeah, he’s putting in the work, but he’s not perfect. He’s better though. He’s been better because he’s been trying. He’s still trying because he keeps picturing Eddie, baby on his hip, cooing and giggling. Picturing them curled up at forty, at fifty, at eighty. Looking back and saying wow, we were fucked up then but we had each other. We got through it together like we always did. So the third time hurts. It pisses him off. But he’s still holding that picture in his mind, despite it fraying at the edges just a bit.
But the fourth time, when it should all be behind them because it had been better, they’d been better, when he comes home and finds Eddie on the floor, broken bottle next to him, needle still in his arm…
Well. Fourth time’s the fucking charm for him.
He calls the ambulance, watches Eddie get loaded in, feels the tears drying onto his cheeks. One of the paramedics knows him from the last time and gives him this sad smile. Says “we got him soon enough, think he’s gonna be okay. He’s lucky, your boy, but even cats only get nine lives.” Steve shuts the ambulance door and doesn’t get in his car to follow. He heads back up the stairs, cleans up the vomit, and starts to pack.
He puts his most important things in the beamer, leaves the rest. Doesn’t leave a note because he doesn’t know what to say. Calls the hospital before he goes because he has to know—Eddie’s awake and asking for him.
He drives to a liquor store instead. Drives until he can’t anymore and checks into a motel halfway between Chicago and Hawkins.
Thinks about his blue two year chip (sitting on his nightstand in the apartment, one of the things not precious enough to bring) as he twists open the bottle, and finally finally finally lets the sweet relief of whiskey burn through his throat.
He’ll regret it tomorrow, but tonight? It’s the only thing he has left.
Steve doesn’t go back to Chicago for nearly four years. He thought about it. Thinks about it. Constantly. He knows that Eddie’s alive because Dustin kept in touch, will give him a little knowing nod every time they see each other (rare, these days, as Steve barrels towards thirty and the kids finish university, get jobs across the country, try to make it home for Christmas and don’t always succeed). He never asks for more because it’s too hard to hear. Dustin tells him, one day, that Eddie’s doing really well now. Steve doesn’t know if he can believe it. He doesn’t want to believe it, because if Eddie’s doing well now without him it means he’s the problem he’s the reason he—he calls his therapist and puts in the fucking work.
He stays in Hawkins. Faces his demons, mostly metaphorical now. Spends a lot of time with Hopper, who gets it more than almost anyone but still wants better for him. Spends hours on the phone with Robin, who begs him to go back into the real world but he can’t, because it hurts too much. Takes enough correspondence classes to get an associate’s degree. Starts driving to the community college a few towns over for classes and upgrades to a Bachelors of Psychology, and starts to understand himself and Eddie and trauma, and things start to hurt a little less. He doesn't drink anymore, goes to meetings with as much regularity as he can, and when he’s finally got a new two year chip in his hands he thinks he might be ready. It hurts like an old wound, twinging in the rain but mostly fine, and he thinks he could maybe handle Chicago again.
He still doesn’t go.
At the end of the day, it’s the acceptance letter into the Masters of Educational Counselling program at the University of Illinois that does it. He honestly hadn’t been expecting to get in, it’s a competitive program and Steve Harrington who barely graduated high school doesn’t exactly scream school counsellor material. But his essay was good, he knows it was. And he knows he’s going to be good at this.
So he packs up the beamer, again. Pulls over to sleep in a tent on the side of the road and calls Hopper from a payphone, sobbing because he can’t do it.
He does it anyway.
He gets to Chicago and his apartment’s on the opposite side of town now but the first time he drives past the hospital again he has a breakdown so bad he almost goes home. But he’s been putting in the work, and he’s doing more than trying now. He’s solid, he’s stable, and he pulls himself together. He calls Hopper and Robin, he goes to meetings, he’s doing well.
He’s studying in a coffee shop, down the street from his apartment, when the open mic starts.
“Hi everyone,” says a voice that Steve would recognize from a hundred miles away. He forces himself to look and Eddie’s on the little stage, an acoustic guitar in hand. "Thanks for being here with me today. I've got some new stuff for y'all that I think you're going to like."
And then he plays. Steve gives up on his work, leans back in the chair, and watches. Eddie looks... he looks good. Better than he had when Steve was around. His hair's still long but it's curly and bouncy, and his skin is bright and alive in the way an addict's never is. His fingers skip, sure and strong, over the frets and his voice is that same melody Steve has never let himself forget, with this almost bluegrass twang that makes Steve's heart ache. He’s playing different music, and he’s shining like he’s made of gold in the late afternoon sun.
There's something about it, about watching Eddie, that feels a bit like healing. Eddie had always loved to play, but the music scene he was in had broken him before, not fixed him. He'd always wanted to make more of his own music, and here it is and it's good. The songs are catchy, straddling his blues/folk upbringing and his rock/metal lifestyle.
And then Eddie finishes a song, maybe his sixth, and his eyes scan the crowd and Steve feels when they land on him. He feels the way the whole room runs out of air, all at once, and Eddie is totally frozen for a full minute. Steve's heart is beating a million miles an hour-he wants to get up, he wants to run, but he's frozen to the seat. Pinned by Eddie's gaze.
And he knows he's been doing better, he has, but nothing was ever as good as it could have been because this is what he was missing.
"I've got," Eddie finally says, and has to stop and clear his throat. "I've got one more song for you." He's talking to the audience, but he never looks away from Steve, and the room has narrowed so much it might as well only be only the two of them there. "This one's about the one I chased away."
Steve pays attention to the lyrics and his heart breaks half a dozen times. Eddie sings about hating himself, about Steve hating him, about how the thing that tore them apart is the thing Eddie will never touch again, how the hatred is what drove him to be better. He sings about forgiveness and healing and when he finishes the coffee shop claps, Eddie waves, and the spotlight cuts.
It isn't even a conscious decision, but Steve finds himself walking up to the stage. Eddie turns away from where he's put the guitar away, their eyes meet again and it feels like coming home.
"I don't hate you," Steve whispers, because he's forgotten how to speak. "I never could."
"I'd understand if you would," Eddie says, and he's stepping closer. They're a foot apart now, eyes locked, and Steve's hands are shaking.
"I've been, uh, working really hard on myself." Steve admits, and he can't help himself. He lifts a hand and tucks a curl behind one of Eddie's ears. "I... I think about you all the time."
Eddie grins, and leans into his touch. "Me too," he murmurs, and drags his thumb over Steve's cheekbone. "I've been putting in the fuckin' work, Steve. And it's not easy, and I'm not perfect. I can't ever promise you perfect. But I'm three years sober, and I think I'm worth it, now. I think you're worth my love and I think I'm worth yours."
"I put in the fuckin work too," Steve mumbles, and he tips his head forwards so their foreheads hit.
When they're forty, they look back on this moment and grin at how little they knew. How much they believed their love would be enough, because the first time it wasn't. But this time, now that they've grown, that they've put in the fucking work?
This time, it's enough.
Eddie looks good with babies on his hips. Steve loves him more every day. They look back at forty, at fifty, at eighty, and they know their love could only have existed because they broke it, and learned by themselves how to fix it. It still hurts sometimes, aches like an old wound, but all Steve needs to do is to squeeze Eddie's hand, to feel his heart beating, and he knows:
He wouldn't trade what they have for the world.
(click here to read Eddie’s version, by the incredibly talented @riality-check !)
#steddie#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington x eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#steddie fic#fic collab!#alligator-writes#blame ria for all of the angst#i can't help myself!#GO READ HER VERSION!#we really fed off each other here but yall its SO GOOD#trigger warning#substance use#substance abuse#overdose#drug use#angst#happy ending
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Hi there ❤️
I saw that your requests are open and i would like to request something if you dont mind.
Maybe one where reader has the same age of ethan but she was in a relationship with Richie (she meet Richie in the store when she was hired and Richie was a worker at that store ) but Ethan was in love with her (they go to the same school /college) so he got heartbroken when he discovered that reader its dating his brother the time that he went to the store to buy something (angsty) In the end he convinces her that he is a better option. Thank you so much ❤️
The better brother
Warnings | highschool!ethan (seniors), RICHIE 🤮 (you are 18 richie is 20 ethan is 18 quinn is 19), you and richie work at a convenience store, neglected and insecure ethan, cursing, richie is a major asshole, angst with happy ending !!! seriously richie is an ass. not proofread !!
wc | 2.4k
a/n: thank you for the request i really liked writing this prompt! maybe a little different than what you wanted but i hope you enjoy!!
--
"Ill see you later." "bye richie." he kissed you on the cheek before he got out of the car and walked into work. You had school today so you just had come to drop him off, you watched him walk in before driving off.
The two of you had been dating for almost two months now. You started working at the same place as him, for four months, he was the store manager so you two were constantly with each other and he asked you out soon after.
You were happy, mostly. Richie was nice yes but he seemed kind of distant most of the time unless you two were at work and you were helping him stock or he needed a ride to work. But he was nice, yes....
You dont wanna think about it any more as you arrive at school. You get out of your car and walk towards the building, "Good morning." You turn and see ethan standing in his usual spot waiting for you like he always does.
Ethan has been a friend of yours since the beginning of the school year, he was sweet and smart (and super cute.) You two had a couple of classes together so he waited outside for you every morning so he could walk to class with you.
"Good morning e." He smiles at you and you smile back, "did you finish the paper for english yet?" you groan, "dont even remind me." he laughs and begins to walk along side you to class.
---
Ethan didnt know when he began to like you. Maybe it was when on the first day of school this year when you sat down next to him you smiled or maybe it was when you didn't mind as he talked your ear off about comic books or maybe it was when you comforted him while his cat was at the vet and he had to go to school.
He didn't know and frankly he didn't care all he knew is that he liked you, he liked you so much he didn't know how to tell you. Everyday he would try to build up the courage to confess to you and once he finally tries he sees your smiling face and he fails.
Today at school you looked especially gorgeous, he tried to tell you but he just wouldn't come out and hes so frustrated with himself, why cant he just suck it up and say you looked pretty. On the walk home hes beating himself up, maybe he should just text you? no you said you had work after school he shouldn't.
He rolls his eyes at the text from quinn to pick up a bag of takis for her and tries to tell her no but shes insistent he gets them so groans as he begins the walk to the store. He finally arrives and begins to look around to find the chips, where the hell were they?
He finally finds the isle and spots two employees standing in the isle stocking the shelf, they look so familiar-
"it wasnt that bad."
"you cannot be serious the menu was actually horrible."
oh my god, it was you. and his brother? he hides around the corner unable to take his eyes off the scene, you work here? with his brother?
"well i liked it." you shrug as you put another bag on the shelf.
"you just dont understand good movies babe its not my fault."
He feels his stomach drop as he watches richie kiss you, no. He might throw up as he watches you shove him and shake your head saying something about being at work. his eyes begin to water as his hands shake.
Richie. Of course. the shadow he'll always live behind, the man he can never compete with. His older brother, hes the star of the family, his dad adores him so much to the point ethan was so neglected by his father to the point he decided to take his mothers name instead. His father never cared, not when he had his star son.
In his shock ethan drops his phone and it hits the hard ground with a bang, "shit." this was awful, ethan bent down to grab it but unable to spot it behind his watery eyes. The loud sound must have alerted you two and he looked up to see the two of you standing over him.
"Ethan?" You looked the most shocked to see him. He quickly looked back down and grabbed his phone hoping you didn't see his watery face.
"oh hey ethan." richie wrapped an arm around your shoulder with a smirk while greeting him. ethan cant even look at you. Of course youd date a guy like richie, he was a lot cooler than he was. God why did he have to suck so fucking much?
"you know ethan?" you sound confused as you look at richie, ethan looks at the ground wishing it was open up and shallow him whole so he could get far far away from here. "of course i do hes my baby brother, isnt that right ethan?" he's mocking him. ethan's tears begin to flow freely down his face.
You brush richies arm off and take another step closer to ethan, you look concerned and it makes him feel awful he was so fucking embarrassed.
"Ethan are you okay?" Ethan nods his head and races out of the store ignoring you yelling after him. He begins to sob as he feet hit the ground hard as he runs away from the store.
At some point he cant run anymore, he can barely breath because of how hard he was crying. He sits at some random bench and cries his heart out.
His heart is broken. its squeezing in his chest, he puts his hand over it and wishes he could just rip it out of his chest because that's exactly how it felt.
--
You stand frozen in the store looking at the soot ethan was just standing. You move to go after him before a hand grabs your arm, "dont worry about him babe." You turn to richie who was a smirk on his face.
"He was clearly upset-" Richie rolls his eyes, growing more annoyed at the conversation about his brother, "hes always been a fucking crybaby, it's nothing to sweat about. fucking annoying." He mumbles to the last part under his breath but you can hear it and you stare at him in disbelief.
"Hes your brother you shouldn't take about him like that-" richie groans and throws his hands uo in the air, "thats just how he his babe," "dont call me babe." "hes a fucking whiner! thats just how it is, he always has been. And he never shuts the fuck up sometimes like jesus christ no one gives a shit about your fucking comic books man. Me and dad make bets to see how long he'll keep his mouth shut." He laughs to himself as he reflects on the memories but you can only stare at him in disgust.
Who the hell was the guy standing in front of you? Your face contorts into anger as you feel yourself get defensive over ethan, "You make me sick." You hiss at him, "How dare you talk about him like that?" He rolls his eyes, "Why do you care so much-" "Cause hes my fucking friend! and you disgust me with the way you talk about him. I feel like i dont even fucking know you right now."
"if you like him so much than you go fuck him or something." You stand in shock, who the fuck did he think he was. you grab your name tag and rip it off your shirt. "Go fuck yourself richie. I quit and we're fucking done." You storm off and he sighs, "you cant be fucking serious right now." you turn back to him, "yes richie i'm done serious you make me sick."
He rushes over to you and grabs you by the arm, He looks at you with a disgusted expression, "over him? really?" Youre face contorts to one of disbelief, "Yes! Youre a piece of shit! ethan is a nice guy, much nicer than you."
He shakes his head at you in disbelief as he lets go of your arm, "What so youre in love with him or something, i didn't know you were a fucking whore. Its good were done i dont wanna be dating a slut."
Your fist slams into his jaw and he hits the ground, hard. "Never. Ever. Speak to me like that. And if i ever catch you talking shit about ethan i will do worse than punch you seriously." You spit on him as you walk out slamming the door hard behind you.
You feel yourself shaking with anger. Was that a stupid decision, maybe. did you regret it? hell no. You can barely believe richie and how mush of an ass he was, thankfully you found out sooner rather than later.
You can barely even be bothered with richie right now, but right now all you can think of is ethan, you begin to look around trying to see if you can spot ethan, he doesn't drive so he must have walked here.
"Ethan?" You call out and begin to walk in what what hopefully the right direction, you're mind races as you try to find him. Was he okay? He was clearly crying before, you continue to call for him before you see a figure crouched over on a bench. Ethan.
You rush over and call for him, "Ethan." You sit next to him and you feel your heart drop at his shoulders which are shaking and you can hear him sobbing into his hands.
You try to grab his face out of his hands but he doesn't let you, "Ethan please." You feel your heart break as he shakes his head furiously, "Leave me please." His voice breaks as he tries to speak, you can barely make out his words. "Im not going anywhere, ethan please."
He reluctantly moved his hands from his face and you cup his cheeks, you frown as you see his teary eyes, his wet face and the pout on his face. "Ethan." Its hushed, you pull him into your arms. he wraps his arms around you tightly as his head finds its way to your neck as he begin to cry again.
You attempt to comfort him by running your hands through is hair, "what wrong ethan? please talk to me. I hate seeing you like this." His cries only get worse, "ill never be good enough." youre confused, "dont say that ethan its not true-" "of course its true! ill never be good enough for anything or anyone, especially not you."
You freeze, the hand in his hair stops its motion as he continues, "why am i so awful, if i wasn't so terrible, if i wasnt so annoying, if i was him, you would choose me. Why cant it ever be me who gets choosen?"
You pull back and grab both of his cheeks, hes look down at your lap. You wipe the tears of hiss face, "Ethan-" "I dont want your pity." he continues to look down and he pulls away from you and begins to furiously wipe his face with is sleeves, "Ethan-"
"hes always had everything i ever wanted, i dont know why im so surprised he got you too." Your heart is racing at the implications of his words, does he mean- "of course he got the girl im in love with."
You rethink over everything interaction youve had with ethan over the past couple months. you always looked forward to seeing him every morning at school with his smile and his awkwardness. He told the most horrible jokes but they made you laugh so much that when you thought about them later in the day you laughed to yourself to the point you must have looked crazy to everyone around you, he always cheered you on if you had a test and always made time to help you study even if it conflicted with his schedule. You hated the days he was out of school, they would feel lonely and empty and you would spent the whole day texting him. even the thought of his smile made you smile- oh my god. You were in love with him.
With richie it felt like just passing time, like you knew it was never going to be you and him in the end but you still wanted it to work. You grab his face for the third time and force him to look at you. "Ethan, you have to be honest with me, do you mean what you're saying?" He nods, "Of course i do, ive been in love with you for forever." he covers yours hands with his, "i know youre with my brother but i need you to know i've always loved you and if you could ever consider the possibility of liking me back-"
You kiss him and you feel in gasp against you, he soon enough begins to kiss you back. It feels like electricity running through your body as the sparks between you two fly out everywhere. It was perfect, richies kisses were rushed, like he wanted to get it over with but with ethan he was slower, like he wanted to savor every second of you and every bit of you.
You two pull away for a air and he stares at you in disbelief, "im in love with you too ethan." His eyes widen as he shakes his head, "no no youre not richie-" "me and richie are done. Hes a dick." Ethan laughs, "I realized while he was talking shit about you that it was never him. When he was talking about you and then me i got so mad i fucking quit and punched him across the face." you laugh as his mouth opens in shock, "no-" "yes! because i felt so much for you. i love you ethan and im sorry i didn't realize it sooner."
A huge smile falls on his face and yours reflects his, more tears begin to fall but this time theyre happy ones, "god im so fucking happy right now." you laugh as he pulls you into another kiss.
"did you really punch him?"
"yeah and i fucking spit on the asshole too."
"I fucking love you."
#ethan landry drabble#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry x you#ethan landry#ethan landry oneshot#scream#scream vi#scream six#jack champion#jack champion x reader#jack champion x y/n
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