#it’s always a good chapter if your readers are screaming at you for ending it where you did

[itshannjisung]

• Like A Volcano | Part Six | • SMUT MDNI

Han Jisung Mini Series

© itshannjisung, 2024

♡ itshannjisungs masterlist ♡

Series Masterlist

Chapter Genre: Crack💥 Angst⚡️Fluff 💕Suggestive Themes 💋

-Bestfriends to Lovers Trope-

Summary: being best friends with the kings of kpop always has its ups and downs, and when you're offered a spot on the next European-American book tour to promote the publishing of your new book, there's one kpop king in particular who just doesn't want you to go.

Pairing: Idol!Han Jisung x Female Reader x Bestfriend Skz

** Includes two of my own original female characters, both whom are romantically involved with two of the members. Chan x Jo / Minho x Ash **

Warnings: Swearing. brief vulnerability over the trauma yn went through. good guy Jisung (srsly why can't all men be this incredible?). tooth-rotting fluff throughout but mostly towards the end. the boys do not use honorifics. reader is called jagiya & princess SMUT; making out. dry-humping/grinding. breast/nipple play. dirty-ish talk. soft!dom Han. brief dom/sub reader. praise kink. slight doting. fingering. anal play (f rec). edging. unprotected sex (dont do this). p in v sex. reader is on the pill, though it is not mentioned. failed pull out method/cumming inside. multiple positions. hair pulling (m rec). crying during sex. biting. overstimulation (m and f rec). flaccid-fucking. multiple orgasms.

I think that's everything. lmk if I missed something!

Word Count: 11k (lol whoops)

Screenshot Count: 8

**this chapter is edited and revised**

Enjoy!

The second you stepped foot back inside of your apartment with Jisung by your side, a wave of anxiety stabbed you abruptly in the gut. Not because of what was yet to come once the two of you eventually reached the bedroom, but because that same helpless feeling you felt earlier in the night had returned, hitting you at full force despite having Jisung glued to your side.

Your eyes darted around the living room nervously as you dropped your keys onto the table by the door and discarded your shoes. You expected something to jump out from the shadows at any given moment, though logically, you knew nobody else was in here. 

Still, your body tensed as you strode further inwards, your jaw clenched in anticipation as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, waiting for something to happen.

A big part of you still felt Seojun lingering in every corner of the one-bedroom apartment you rented out, and when a gust of wind blew in through the cracked window and sent your curtains flying about, you nearly screamed in surprise. Fortunately, all that left your mouth was a small gasp, causing Jisungs arms to wrap around you in an instant.

“It’s alright, Jagiya.” he cooed softly in your ear as his arms tightened around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. “He’s not here. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Your eyebrows shot upwards in surprise at his words, causing you to turn in his hold and look at him in confusion.

“How did you-?” you paused and squinted at him, the pieces forming together quickly inside of your mind. “Minho, that bastard.” you finished with an annoyed grunt.

Obviously it was Minho.

Jisungs hand came up to hold the back of your head as he pulled you into a hug. 

“Please don’t be mad at Min, okay? When he, Chan, Jo and Ash left in a hurry this morning I knew something was going on. I practically forced it out of him the second they got back home.” he explained. "I didn't want to believe it until I saw for myself, so I'm sorry for what I said back at the club. You didn't deserve the way I spoke to you. I was just hurt and confused."

You swallowed roughly at the news, wondering how much Minho had told him.

“How much do you know?” You asked, barely registering the coldness that seemed to seep into your words. You bit the inside of your cheek as you waited for Jisungs response.

“He didn’t tell me the details.” he reassured you, his arms still holding you in a tight embrace. “Just that that asshole was hurting you. He didn’t even tell me you were home.”

You nodded slowly, lost in thought. 

Despite wanting to be mad at Minho, you knew you couldn’t be. Your friends always had your best interests in mind, even if it didn’t seem like it at times, so Minho telling Jisung meant he was confident Jisung wouldn’t say anything to anyone, especially not to the others.

Though, you knew with how nosy and protective they all were, they’d all find out the truth eventually. It wasn’t like you were planning on hiding it from them, you just wanted to avoid the topic as long as you could. But right here, right now, you couldn’t think of any reason not to tell Jisung the details of what you went through.

You trusted him with your life, and this, whatever this was, was forever. He’d never leave your side again and you knew you’d never leave his.

“Do you want to know?” you asked softly, almost whispering as your head dipped and your eyes found your feet. You wouldn’t push it upon him, but you knew letting him know you trusted him with everything in you was important. He needed the reassurance, needed to see how serious you were about him, about this, about whatever came next for the two of you after tonight.

Jisung was silent for a moment as his fingers found the cast on your arm, causing your eyes to lift up anxiously and meet him once more. He looked pained and unsure as he stared at the plaster, as if the answer to your question was more than just a simple yes or no, because in all honesty, it was. 

This was about more than just finding out what makes each other tick, it was about being vulnerable and opening up about the trauma you worked so hard to push away. It was about giving someone the opportunity to destroy you and trusting them not to. It was about handing them a ‘get out of jail’ free card and then praying they wouldn’t use it, that they wouldn’t leave, that they’d stay.

It was scary. 

No, it was fucking terrifying, but for Jisung, you would do anything.

After a couple of short, thoughtful breaths, Jisung gave you a sad smile. 

“Not unless you want me to know. And even then, I won’t pressure you into telling me.” he answered, softly kissing the tip of your nose. “Just know that I’m not going anywhere, okay? No matter what you went through and who you become because of it, I’ll be right here. I’ll stick by your side while you work through this and do whatever it is you need of me to help. We’re in this together.”

It was like a flame had suddenly ignited inside the depths of your heart at his words. Like someone had poured gasoline into your veins in an attempt to bring you down, and Jisungs words, his encouragement, was the match that lit you on fire and allowed you to fight back.

The sentiment was short and sweet, one that anybody else would have laughed at and waved off as him being too cheesy, but to you, it meant everything. You could feel the sincerity and truth behind each vowel, each consonant, and it made your heart burst with a form of emotion you’ve never felt before.

It was more than the happiness and joy you felt when you were surrounded by your friends, more than the excitement and anticipation you endured when you walked out on stage and found thousands of fans staring back at you. It was more than any pain and sadness you felt during your time away.

This was it. This was true love. And you found it in your best friend, just like you always hoped you would.

A smile broke out onto your face and an unexpected sob escaped your throat as you stared into Jisungs big, beautiful eyes. The ones that held so much adoration, so much joy, so much respect. You saw galaxies upon galaxies inside them, the chocolatey brown nearly hypnotising you as they sparkled in the dim light.

In that moment, you wanted him, needed him, in every way possible, but the words got caught in your throat and all that you managed to squeak out was a small “Thank you Ji.”

Jisung smiled back at you, a laugh seeping from his lips.

“Anything for you, Princess.” he whispered. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Anything, you say?” you then raised your eyebrow suggestively, causing his gummy smile to fade into one of his signature smirks.

The way his eyes darkened as if on cue had a fire stirring in your lower belly.

“Absolutely anything.” he chimed back without hesitation.

And those words of affirmation were all you needed to pick up where the two of you left off at the club. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him to you, swiftly connecting your lips to his. Immediately, he scooped you up and wrapped your legs around his waist as his tongue pushed against your lips, demanding entry.

Before you knew it, you were straddling Jisung on the couch, your tongues both slowly and lazily tasting each other, exploring the expanses of what the other had to offer. While your fingers threaded through his hair, his hands explored you at an achingly slow pace. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you, his movements neverending as he memorised every inch of skin he could find.

All traces of wanting to rip his clothes off had exited your mind the second he sat the two of you down. There was no rush. You guys had the rest of your lives to jump into the sheets with one another. This night, however, would be one you both would remember for eternity, and the both of you cherished every breathing second you had as if it would be your last.

Every breath was slow, every touch delicate and teasing, every smile and giggle against the others lips dissolved into another long, searing-hot kiss. The two of you could stay like this for hours and still neither of you would be completely satisfied.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat like this for, just holding each other while your tongues battled for dominance, but when Jisung eventually pulled away, the two of you were breathless and exhausted.

You didn’t say a word as his big eyes found yours, his hands finally teasing the hem of the shirt you had on, a look of question in his eyes. He was silently asking permission to go further, to touch more of you, and you hoped the half nod and smile you sent back his way would suffice as an answer as you were still struggling to catch your breath.

Jisung didn’t give you much time to do so before he captured your lips once more and put his hands to work.

When his large, calloused hands dipped beneath the fabric, a jolt of electricity shot across your skin and a gasp fell from your lips into Jisungs open mouth. He smiled against you before reaching his hands higher, his fingers softly tracing up your spine until he came into contact with the clasp of your bra.

With one flick of his wrist, your clasp was undone, and he wasted no time bringing one of his hands around to slip under the cup and grab ahold of your breast.

With his other hand, he pulled your shirt over your head while he gently kneaded you in his palm, your bra following shortly after. He pulled away from your lips and leaned back to briefly stare at your now naked chest in wonder. 

“Jesus Christ Jagi,” he whispered delightfully, his thumb coming up to run across your already hardened nipple. Your body jolted at the sensation, causing an evil grin to lift the corners of his mouth while a puddle formed in your panties. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

A blush crept to your cheeks, but instead of feeling insecure and shying away from him, you felt your ego boost to a whole new level.

Jisung brought his face to your chest and delicately kissed the cluster of scabs that sat at the crevice where your torso and arm met. You expected the old cigarette burns to hurt when his lips came into contact with them, but you felt nothing but neutral sensitivity. The action was so intimate and soft you almost lost your senses, but then Jisung was back to the task at hand an instant later, the soft, sweet moment gone. 

“Does that feel good, Princess?” Jisung asked as he rubbed his thumb across your nipple once more, watching the way your head fell back while a moan escaped your lips. You nodded in response, your hips seeming to have a mind of their own as they swung back before dragging forwards against the bulge in his pants that didn’t seem to fully go away ever since you kissed him in the club.

Both of you moaned noisily into the emptiness of the apartment as you repeated your actions several more times, the two of you feeling the wave of pleasure you both so desperately craved but were too nervous to insinuate up until now. 

“That’s it Jagi, lemme’ hear those pretty sounds.” Jisung mumbled as his other hand came up to cup your other breast, his thumbs now both circling around your nipples simultaneously.

Your jaw fell open and your eyes squeezed closed as pleasure shot through your body at his actions, another moan eliciting itself from deep within. With his thumbs gently playing with your nipples and his dick growing harder and harder against your core, you swore you were on cloud nine. A laugh escaped Jisungs throat as he watched you seductively grind against him.

“That’s my girl.” he praised softly, smiling up at you. Your eyes popped open at his words, the praise sending chills straight down to your pussy, and he flashed you another evil grin before bringing his face back into your chest. 

He wasted no time in clamping his mouth down around one of your nipples, his tongue expertly running over it as his now free arm folded around you, holding you against him and causing a halt in your hips movements. A high-pitched cry left your mouth when he pinched the opposite nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, his tongue still working wonders against you.

It had been so long since you had any of this, felt any of this, that you weren’t sure what to do, how to react. No one had ever touched you like this before. Seojun barely spared you any type of physical affection when the two of you got intimate, and if he did, it was brief, never lasting long enough for you to even get worked up over.

Jisung was bringing you into unfamiliar territory, and quickly at that. Despite his strong hold against your lower back, despite wanting to melt into the way his tongue slowly worked your sensitive bud, blowing at it and nibbling when he needed to breathe, you couldn’t help but wiggle. You needed to feel this on top of the added movement of your hips grinding against his. You needed to feel that warm, fuzzy feeling build up in your tummy that you haven’t felt in years.

“Ji.” you cried as your hands flew up to tug at his hair, trying to pull him from your chest. Jisung mumbled a soft ‘hmmm’ in response, his attention solely focused on your breasts. 

“I need more.” you whined. The way your lower lip jutted out was more than a little pathetic, you knew that, but with the way Jisung was pleasuring you right now, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Jisung pulled away from you then and craned his head back to stare at you. 

“What’s wrong, Princess?” he doted, his fingers pausing in their attack on your swollen nipple and coming up to tug at your pout. “You want more?”

You cried against his touch.

“I need more.” you emphasised, your hips still struggling to move against his firm hold. "I need you." 

Jisung paused to brush a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear and giving you a firm kiss on the lips before he released his hold on you.

"God, I want you so bad Princess." he whispered as his darkened eyes sparkled into yours. You swung your hips back and grinded hard against him, continuing your previous assault on the boner in his pants.

"Then fucking take me already Ji." you begged.

Jisung let out a small sigh and brushed some more hair from your face.

"I can't." he pouted. “Even though there’s nothing I would rather do more.”

You quirked your eyebrow and smirked at him as your hips continued their slow movement against his.  "Oh, and why is that Ji?" you teased around a small gasp, bringing your face to his jawline where you began planting soft kisses. 

Jisung sighed once more, his body growing tense under you, and you immediately stopped all of your movements. You pulled back to look at him, your eyes widening in concern as you took in the anxious expression that had suddenly fallen upon his face and the way he was nervously chewing on his lower lip,

“Ji, Baby, what’s wrong?”

Jisung swallowed roughly before his gaze fell to your shoulder. He pulled his lower lip into his mouth completely, his breath shaky as he gave you a slow response, the anticipation killing you.

“I just,” he paused before his eyes found yours again, his once darkened pupils now dilated with worry. “I don't want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you. We both have alcohol in us and I don’t want our first time to be made on a drunken decision that you’re gonna’ regret in the morning.”

His honesty melted your heart but his insecurities threatened to disintegrate it completely. You hadn’t even thought of the fact that the two of you were running on alcohol and adrenaline alone. You were completely consumed by him that you didn’t even stop to think about what he wanted, what he needed.

It was your turn to reach up and tug at his pout.

“Han Jisung, the man you are.” you whispered in complete awe. Jisung’s lower lip jutted out further and he blinked up at you through his long lashes.

“I’m sorry, Bubs.” he whispered. Instantly, your hands flew up to cup his face, forcing him to tilt his head back and look at you completely.

“Hey. None of that.” you lightly scolded. “Never apologise for speaking your mind and telling me how you feel, okay?” Your eyes shone into his so intensely Jisung thought he might cry. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint you and his anxiety was quickly making him feel as if he was.

He swallowed hard again, his eyes darting between yours. The two of you stared at each other intimately for a moment before he nodded, his body relaxing slightly beneath you.

"I will never regret you." you then added, making sure he understood every syllable and that he felt the truth behind your claim. “Never.”

A small breath of relief left Jisungs mouth and he nodded again, the reassurance charging him like a battery. That’s all he needed to hear.

“Thank you Jagi.” he whispered, his face leaning into the hands that were pressed against his cheeks. The warmth that radiated from your body mixed with the smell of you was soothing and comforting to him, so much so he suddenly felt tired and exhausted and like he could fall asleep right then and there.

You noticed his eyes closing, his body melding into yours, and you leaned forward to plant a kiss on his exposed forehead. Jisung smiled and opened his eyes slightly to beam up at you.

“I’d do anything for you, you know that, right?” you asked softly, your thumbs running delicately against his cheek bones. Jisung's eyes sparkled at your words, his lips tilting upwards into another one of his signature smirks.

“Anything?” he mimicked your words from earlier, causing a giggle to escape your lips. God, he could listen to that sound all day.

You gave his cheeks a small squeeze.

“Absolutely anything.” you quipped back before placing another kiss on his forehead, followed by one to his nose. Jisungs smirk broke out into a smile before he carefully hoisted you off of his lap and held his hand out to you while he stood from the couch.

“Come shower with me?” he asked, his eyes glimmering with joy. You stared up at him, your mind still trying to process how he managed to get you off of him and on to his feet so quickly.

“What?” you asked out of habit. It wasn’t that you hadn’t heard him, you heard him loud and clear, but your brain was foggy as the adrenaline from your lewd actions began to simmer.

Jisung took your hand in his and pulled you to your feet when you took too long to do so yourself. He wasted no time planting a kiss to your cheek before pulling you towards the bathroom door, that damn evil grin appearing on his face once more.

“The sooner we shower and clean up, the sooner we can go to sleep, and the sooner we go to sleep, the sooner we can wake up and do what we’re both dying to do right now.”

He didn’t even wait for your answer as he opened the door to the bathroom and pulled you promptly inside.

*****

Waking up the next morning beside Jisung was a strange and unfamiliar sensation. Not because you had someone in the bed next to you, that much you were used to by now, but because of the sheer level of intimacy that was shared between the two of you as your limbs tangled together in peace. 

You never woke up in another person's arms before, their face pressed into the back of your neck where their breath tickled you softly. It was strange to wake up engulfed in another person's scent, their arms wrapped tightly around your torso as if they were scared you’d disappear if they let go, even in their sleep.

It had been a long time since you woke up feeling this calm and at peace.

It had been a long time since you felt this safe.

You blinked your eyes open and glanced over at the alarm clock on your bedside table. It was only six in the morning. You let out a small groan. 

You were careful not to jostle Jisung too much as you reached blindly for your phone. You were happy to see you hadn’t received any more messages or calls from Seojun, but the twelve missed calls from Jo and the endless group chat messages left you feeling just as crappy.

You had totally forgotten to text the group last night to let them know you and Jisung were together and safe. You stifled a sound of guilt as you lazily swiped across the screen to read the messages everyone had sent.

You let out a small sigh, laughing silently to yourself at your friends and their antics. You debated texting them back, but Jisung shifting his body behind you had you dropping your phone to the table once more and turning softly in his embrace.

He lay on his back, his one arm still tightly wrapped around you while the other was now thrown across his forehead, trying to block the sunlight that poured into the room. A cool breeze blew through the open window, causing him to squeeze you against his warm body.

You rested your head onto his shoulder and glanced up at him, admiring him as he slept. 

He was absolutely exquisite.

His skin was glowing against the early morning sun, making the small scar along his forehead and the mole on his cheek stand out prominently. There were bags under his eyes, only slightly lighter than they were the night before, and his long eyelashes cast shadows across his cheeks beautifully.

The scar beside his eye was practically begging for you to run your finger along it, so you did, reaching up gently and making sure your touch was feather-light. With a mind of its own, your finger then moved to trace the bridge of his nose down to the tip before slowly running along the plushness of his lips. 

Your face began to heat up as you thought about his lips and what else they were capable of other than kissing you senseless, and you were so wrapped in the thought that you nearly jumped when Jisungs fingers dug into your side lovingly a moment later, signalling he was awake.

You grinned up at him and poked his mole, causing a smile to breakout across his face, his eyes still closed.

“Good Morning Princess,” he whispered, his voice raspy from sleep. “Did you sleep well?”

With your finger still prodding at the tiny beauty mark, you sighed.

“Better than I have in years.” you told him honestly. Jisung just smiled and brought his other arm around you again, pulling you up so you were laying on top of him, your legs now tangling with his.

You rested your hands along his naked chest, your chin propped on top of them as you melted into his touch and watched as his eyes opened slowly. He looked down at you as one of his hands reached up to brush his knuckles softly against your cheek.

“You’re so gorgeous, Jagiya.” he murmured. “I love you so much.”

You didn’t need to say it back. Jisung knew just from the twinkle in your eyes how deeply you felt for him. It made his heart pound in happiness.

The two of you were silent for a moment, staring at each other in wonder as you both got lost in thought. You felt breathless knowing he was yours now, completely and undeniably so.

You were so scared he wasn’t going to want you back after everything that happened. You were so sure you were going to tell him how you felt and he would just turn around and leave you in the dust, much like you left him. 

The fact that the two of you were here now, clinging to each other while you both tried to rid your bodies from sleep, was an absolute dream come true. It couldn’t have turned out better.

You impulsively reached one hand up to trace your fingers against his lips once more, your mind once again swirling with thoughts of him pleasuring you with it.

“I was so worried I wasn’t going to get you back.” you whispered, trying to mask the blush on your cheeks.

Jisung grabbed your fingers and kissed them gently before resting his cheek against them. 

“I was so worried you weren’t going to come back.” he answered just as quietly, his eyes staring into yours. You gave him a cheeky grin as you scooted up his torso, bringing your face level with his.

“Yejun told me about all of your late night endeavours. You’ve been pretty busy since I’ve been gone, huh?” you teased before planting a kiss to his cheek and nestling your face into his neck. You breathed him in as his arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you in place. 

A sigh left his mouth at your words and he let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“Yeah, I’m not proud of who I became when you left. Losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to me and it was obvious by my actions that I didn’t give a single fuck about those girls or their feelings.” he mumbled. You could tell by the tone in his voice he was severely disappointed in himself, so you lifted your head from his neck and poked his mole again as you stared into his eyes.

“Hey, those girls were lucky to have been underneath you.” you joked. Jisung gave you a soft smile and pushed some hair out of your eyes again as he answered, causing your heart to leap in your chest.

“And yet, none of them stood a single chance against you.”

You dimpled up at him, feeling speechless at his cheesy words before planting a tender kiss to his lips, though Jisung suddenly had other ideas in mind.

As you pulled your face away from him, his hand came up to hold the back of your head, halting you so he could chase you with his lips and pull you back down.

Despite the forty-five minute shower the two of you had the night before, where you did nothing but make out relentlessly in between washing each other's bodies, you still felt your stomach flutter when he pushed his lips against yours.

Despite the hour or so afterwards that you guys spent just holding each other in bed and kissing, never reaching past second base, you still felt your heart thump excitedly in your chest when Jisungs tongue slipped past your swollen lips and battled against yours.

Kissing him now felt as natural to you as breathing, but it still left you feeling breathless and weak to the butterflies that filled your tummy like it was the first kiss all over again. Well, second technically.

But, unlike the many kisses that were shared the night before, this one was quick to become needy and desperate. Gone was the long and slow exploration of each other's mouths and in came frenzied desire as you two clung to each other, both acknowledging it was now morning and you were free to do what you so desperately longed for all night.

With his tongue still battling yours, Jisung removed his hands from your head and let them roam down your body until they were cupping your ass. He squeezed handfuls of your cheeks into his palms, his nails digging desperately into your skin, causing you to hiss in delight as he pulled you against him. You could feel his bulge growing hard against the inside of his boxer briefs, and you felt excitement shake your bones when he lightly lifted his hips to push himself against your core.

You moaned noisily into Jisungs mouth as his hands then slipped further down your ass, his fingers reaching to prod lightly at your panty-covered core from behind. He wasted no time sliding your panties aside and running a finger teasingly along your folds, a groan leaving his mouth as he felt how wet you already were for him.

“Princess,” he mumbled against your lips, his hips pressing up into yours again. “You’re already so wet for me and I haven’t even done anything yet.” he teased as he slowly inserted the tip of his finger into you, only slipping far enough in to reach his first knuckle.

The feeling of just the tip of his finger toying with you had a whine slipping from your mouth as your hips began to grind against his.

“Sungie,” you groaned. “Need you so bad.”

Jisung grinned up at you in awe as he hugged you tight to his chest, his eyes sparkling in excitement when he slowly inserted his finger further into you. The most delectable sound left your mouth, encouraging him to then pump his finger in and out at a snails pace.

The feeling of his clothed dick pushing up into you mixed with his finger softly sliding in and out of your pussy had your legs shaking and your breath caught in your throat. He felt so damn good you could cry.

Jisung mocked the pout that fell onto your face with one of his own as he stared into your eyes, gauging your reaction to his actions.

“What’s wrong Bubby? Feels good, huh? You like it when I touch you like that?”

All you could do was nod in response and let your face fall into the crook of his neck, your breathing heavy.

It had been so long since you’ve been this worked up by something that wasn’t yourself and your own fingers. It was almost painful to feel your orgasm building so quickly.

Unexpectedly, Jisung slipped another finger into you at the same time that he dipped the tip of his thumb over the opening to your anus. A loud, almost pornographic gasp escaped from your throat at the unfamiliarity and foreign sensation.

No one had ever touched you there before, and while you never saw yourself as someone who would enjoy anything to do with that part of your body, you couldn’t deny the absolute euphoria that rattled your bones as Jisung repeated his actions once more.

“Is that okay, Princess?” he whispered, watching you intently for any signs of discomfort. You nodded quickly against his neck before lifting your face to come level with his again.

“Mm'do it again.” you begged before you pressed your mouth to his, the kiss immediately becoming sloppy, teeth clashing against each other as your resolve began to slip.

“Anything for my girl.” Jisung murmured back before he dipped his thumb into your opening again, his fingers moving in time with it.

The heat in your belly grew at double the speed as Jisung worked his digits inside of you. You felt manic as his hold around you loosened, allowing you room to move your hips against his all over again.

Within minutes, the three different sensations all working against you in tandem had you practically screaming, begging for relief. It was all too much.

Just as your head began to grow foggy and the heat in your stomach was on the verge of exploding, Jisung pulled his fingers out of you and flipped you onto your back, stopping you before you could reach your release.

A cry left your mouth involuntarily at the sudden loss of contact.

“What the fuck Ji?” you gasp, your breathing coming out in spurts.

Jisung smirked down at you from where he was hovering over your body on his forearms, his legs tangled with yours as he pressed his erection into your thigh. His silver-blonde hair fell into his eyes as that wicked smile spread across his puffy cheeks.

“Sorry Jagi, but I don’t want you cumming yet unless it's around my cock.”

A growl left your mouth unexpectedly.

“Motherfucker.” you ground out around clenched teeth as you pushed him off of you. Jisungs eyes widened in surprise but he obeyed you without a hassle, allowing you to push him back against the headboard and straddle his thin waist.

“Let’s see if you’re as bratty and submissive as everyone thinks you are.” you half-threatened, your hands working quickly to slip off his boxers. His thick, hard cock bounced back lightly against his stomach, causing you to pause and stare at him in wonder as you threw his boxers somewhere behind you.

Jisung bit the inside of his cheek at your hesitation, watching you nervously as you stared down at him. 

“Is it okay, Jagi?” he whispered out. Your eyes flickered up to his and you saw mountains of insecurity in them. Without a pause, you nodded your head and licked your lips, your eyes travelling back downwards.

“It’s fucking perfect Ji. Can’t wait to feel it inside of me.”

A small sigh left his mouth, his shoulders relaxing at your reassurance. 

“How’s your pull out game?” you then asked as you continued to stare at him, saliva pooling in your mouth at the mere thought of having him pumping inside of you. Jisung was quick to answer, his insecurities gone as quick as they came.

“As strong as it needs to be, why?”

“I just wann’ feel you raw.” you answered around a huff as you slid your panties off. The shirt Jisung was wearing the night before hung loosely around your body, barely covering your naked skin. Jisung swore he could cum right then and there from just the sight of you.

“Yeah?” his muscles tensed at the thought of having you wrapped around him with nothing separating your bodies. He moaned lightly just imagining it.

You licked your lips and nodded swiftly in response as you straddled his hips, his dick throbbing deliciously in between the two of you. 

"Yes. Please. Just let me feel you." You cried. You reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair again and pulled his head back roughly, your eyes shining into his.

Shamelessly, Jisung moaned into the feeling, staring up at you as if his biggest dreams were coming true, because they were.

He always dreamed of being with a dominant girl in the bedroom, but all of the females he’s ever been with insisted on him using his dominance over them. Sure, there was nothing he loved more than bending someone over and fucking them into submission, and he couldn't wait to do that to you, but he longed for the chance to let someone direct him. He yearned to let someone be in control for once and use him to their heart's content.

 And alas, here you were, doing exactly that without even being asked.

As if you needed to be any more perfect for him.

As if he needed to be more in love with you than he already was.

“There’s no one like you Jagiya.” he whispered in awe before he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips against yours. You positioned yourself over his dick and pulled his hair roughly once more, earning another whimper from his mouth before you lowered yourself down onto him.

The stretch was slow, excruciatingly delicious. He filled you so perfectly you nearly came from the skin on skin contact alone. Jisung must’ve felt it too because he squeezed his nails into your hip bones and helped pull you down completely until your pelvis was flush with his, a hiss slipping from his lips as euphoria hit him.

For several long seconds, the two of you froze, both crying out in pleasure at the highs that were already building from the naked sensation of each other's bodies against one another.

It made you feel delirious, the way he fit inside you so flawlessly, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix delicately. Your hips twitched with anticipation, causing his dick to press further into you and you couldn’t do anything except let your head fall to his shoulder as a whine left your lips.

“Ji, Baby,” you cried. “You feel so good.”

Jisungs breathing was already laboured as he focused on not cumming inside you. Your walls clenched around him so effortlessly it was almost as if your bodies were made for each other.

“I know, Jagi. I know. Your pussy feels so good around me, it’s making me fucking crazy.” he whined.

"Are you good to go?" You asked, barely holding yourself back from grinding your hips down onto his. Jisung took another deep breath and nodded, desperate to feel you. 

You smiled against the skin of his shoulder as you then began to rock your hips, riding him slowly, allowing both of your bodies time to adjust to the feeling. Everytime you'd rock your hips forward, you'd yank Jisungs hair, causing him to whimper and buck his hips up into you, which in turn only encouraged you to move again, desperate for that friction. 

It was a vicious cycle that had you both whining with pleasure as you made love to him. Because that's what this was. You weren't fucking him, you were pouring every ounce of love you had for the man underneath you into each roll of your hips, and you knew, you felt, the loving pouring back into you from him as he thrust his hips upwards to meet you halfway. 

It didn't take you for long to reach your high again. The knot in your stomach tightened quickly with each movement and you were whimpering into Jisungs ear desperately despite being the one in charge. 

Jisung pressed his lips to your ear when he felt your pussy clench around him beautifully. He smiled against your earlobe as he tightened his hold around you.

"That's it Princess. Cum all over my cock." He whispered. That sentence alone, hearing the dirty words slip past his lips, is what sent you over the edge and you did exactly that. You came, hard, drenching him in your juices as a loud gasp fell from your lips and you dug your nails into his shoulders. 

Your legs shook violently as Jisung continued pressing his hips up into you, extending your orgasm into one of the best highs you've ever had. It had been so long since you've had one that tears immediately formed in your eyes and pooled down your cheeks. 

You shoved your face into Jisungs neck and sniffled, trying to stop the tears from flowing. Tears of relief for reaching the high you were barely able to accomplish on your own, and tears of happiness because Jisung was the one beneath you, making you feel this way. 

You always dreamed of this, of him being beneath you, on top of you, inside of you. You spent the last year and a half with another man, fantasising about this one specifically, and having those fantasies finally become a reality was absolutely mind altering. You've never been happier than in this moment.

Jisung stopped his hips movements when he felt your tears wet his skin, and he pulled away slightly to look up at you in concern. 

"Are you okay Princess? What's wrong?" His big, brown eyes were full of worry as he watched you cry. His dick was still hard inside of you, and yet all he could focus on was your emotions. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You apologised as you wiped at the wetness on your cheeks. Jisungs hand came up to help wipe the tears that were spilling over uncontrollably. 

"What are you apologising for, Bubs?"

You hiccuped and shoved your face back into his neck, feeling heat flush your cheeks in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. I'll be able to keep going in a minute. I just-” you hiccuped again. “I just haven't had one of those in a long time." You explained. 

"What, an orgasm?" Jisung was briefly shocked at your revelation, but it quickly turned to downright annoyance when realisation hit, but it wasn’t directed at you.

"Wait, that asshole never…?" He trailed off when he felt you shake your head against his neck. The two of you were quiet for a couple seconds as Jisung pulled you impossibly closer to him, his dick still twitching restlessly.

“How long has it been since you had one that wasn’t your own doing?” he asked quietly, his heart breaking for you. You took a shaky breath and mumbled your answer into his shoulder, feeling your cheeks flush even more.

“Years.”

Jisungs eyes nearly bulged out of his head, and he was glad you stayed nestled into him. The last thing he wanted was his surprise to be mistaken as pity and have you get even more upset than you already seemed to be.

“Oh, Princess.” he doted as he tightened his hold on you and flipped you onto your back unexpectedly with ease, his dick still burrowed deep inside you. The second your head hit the pillow, your eyes widened with worry and you began to shake your head in protest.

“What are you doing? No, no, no. I’m on top. I’m always on top.” you felt panic begin to grow inside your chest, but it faded away just as quickly as you saw the reassurance in Jisungs eyes. He pulled a hand out from beneath you and wiped at your tears, brushing his fingertips lightly against your cheekbones before kissing them promptly.

“Just take a deep breath Bubs” he whispered. “How about you let me make you feel good, hm? It’s the least I could do for the love of my life.” he cooed. You stared up at him in confusion for a moment, trying to process what it was he said.

He wanted to take over and fuck you?

The idea of being on the receiving end felt so foreign and strange to you. You’ve been the dominant one for so long, you barely remembered what it felt like to let someone else be in control. You stared up at him with your big beautiful eyes, a look of uncertainty in them, and Jisung’s heart nearly broke all over again. 

It was at that moment he vowed to himself that he would always do everything in his power to give you as many orgasms as you wanted, whenever you wanted. Anything to get that look of insecurity off your face.

He brushed his fingers against your cheek again when you still didn’t give him a consensual answer to keep going.

“Let me take care of you, Bubby. Let me show you what it feels like to be with a real man. One who loves every square inch of you, inside and out. Just lay back and let Sungie do all the work, yeah?” 

The amount of promise and emotion in his eyes had you choking on your next breath. A feeling of excitement brewed low in your stomach, one you hadn’t felt in forever, and you nodded eagerly. You didn’t realise how badly you were craving this until now.

With a satisfied smile, Jisung pulled out of you completely and kissed your forehead before repositioning himself. He took your one leg and laid it flat against the bed, moving to straddle it as he hoisted the other up onto his shoulder. Your body twisted slightly with the movement, leaving you half on your side and leaving your pussy tight and ready for him.

With his hand cradling your leg, he turned his head and kissed your calf softly before positioning himself at your entrance.

“Are you ready Princess?” he asked. You nodded breathlessly, eager to have him fill you up once more. Jisung sent you one of his sweet, gummy smiles before he turned his head and bit roughly into the muscle of your calf, his dick pushing into you at the same time. The pain and pleasure of both actions mixed together so perfectly you let out a string of curse words in response.

The position he had you in was new, one you never tried before, and while your butt ached from the way your body was twisted, you couldn’t deny how good it felt. His dick was pushing against your cervix so flawlessly you nearly passed out from the pleasure alone.

“Oh my fucking god,” you cried as Jisungs hips began to rock into you. The friction of his pelvis rubbing against yours from how deep he pushed was blinding, his mouth only adding to the intensity as he licked and bit at your leg.

You let out a loud squeal as he pulled himself half-way out and slammed back into you again. 

“I told myself I was going to take my sweet ass time with you, but the way your pussy is clenching around me right now is making me fucking feral Princess.” he breathed as he picked up his pace, his hips rocking more forcefully into you.

You let your head fall into the pillow as another round of obscene sounds left your throat. Jisung’s head had fallen back in pleasure as he cursed under his breath. You were so perfect for him. He wanted to take care of you and absolutely destroy you at the same time.

“My god, you’re so perfect for me Jagi.” he groaned as his face fell downwards so he could stare at you. You were looking back at him already, your face contorted into a look of pure bliss as he fucked you senseless. He felt his high approaching but he forced it back, wanting to make you finish at least once more before he did.

Luckily for him, you were close, and when his hands came down to wrap around your thigh, his nails digging into your skin as he pulled you even closer, allowing him to go deeper, you shattered.

“Fuck Ji, baby. I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” you cried loudly as you exploded around him, your walls squeezing him deliciously. Jisungs hips halted as he pressed into you as far as he could go, wiggling slightly to help overstimulate you. He paused there, watching your face melt into a puddle of pure satisfaction. 

“You’re so good for me Princess.” he reached down to cup your chin, forcing you to look at him as you shook in sensitivity. “Keep your eyes on me, okay? I’m not done yet.”

Before you could process his words, Jisung manoeuvred himself once again until he was snug between both of your legs, looming over you in missionary. His dick automatically slid back into your slick cunt and he wasted no time chasing the high he had been holding back.

He thrust into you hard, his dick sliding delightfully against your walls, his eyes never leaving yours and yours never leaving his. You had barely come down from your previous orgasm, the oversensitivity building another one up so quickly it was overwhelming. But you didn’t dare ask him to stop. Not when he was making you feel so heavenly.

“Fuck Jisung. Fuck, fuck fuck. Your dick feels so good inside of me.” you whimpered as he continued to relentlessly slip in and out of you, the overstimulation perfect. “I’m gonna’ cum again.”

Jisung let out a hearty laugh as his face fell into your neck, his lips and teeth gliding against your skin as he squeezed your hips and tried to hold you still.

“You gonna’ give me another one?” he teased, to which all you could do was nod in response. His question quickly sent you over the edge again unexpectedly, your body floating in bliss as the white hot pleasure threatened to blind you.

 “Holy shit, Bubby. Your pussy feels amazing sucking me in like this. You’re so fucking tight. Shit.” Jisung’s movements faltered as his orgasm approached quickly. “Shit, Princess, I’m gonna’ cum. Let me out.”

Instead of allowing him enough room to exit and cum all over your tummy, you wrapped your legs around his slutty waist and squeezed him closer to you. Jisungs eyes widened in panic, his hips stuttering again.

“What’re you doing?” he squeaked as he tried to hold back his orgasm long enough to escape. The pout on your face would have driven him over the edge if your next words hadn’t.

“I want you to cum inside of me Ji.” you whimpered, staring into his eyes.

“Wha-?” Jisung stuttered over his words. He was feeling so frenzied he barely managed to slow his hips down long enough to make sure he heard you right. “Are you - fuck - are you sure?"

You nodded quickly, feeling tears form in your eyes again because of how desperately you wanted to feel him. “I wann’ feel you fill me up. Please Jisung. Make me yours.”

The affirmation was all he needed. Jisung nodded and pressed a kiss to your lips as he bucked his hips, picking up his pace once more. The small break in his movements, the unintentional edging, left him absolutely pussy drunk. He began slamming into you with so much force your body was moving up the bed with every thrust.

“Oh Jagi,” he moaned. “I’m gonna fill you up so good. Gonna give it to you so nice. Fuck. Tell me how much you love me Bubby. Tell me you’re all mine.” he begged desperately.

The oversensitivity from your orgasm had you feeling unhinged, barely able to keep your eyes open, let alone form another sentence to respond.

“‘Mmmm love you s’much Ji. More than anything else in’he world. I’m all yours.”

“Fuck Jagiya. I’m fucking cumming.”

A second later, he exploded. His load shot into you at neck-breaking speed, painting your walls and filling you to the brim. He had waited so long to fuck you, there was so much of it. It spilled out of you so easily, and yet, Jisung couldn’t get enough of those pretty sounds leaving your mouth.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he forced his hips to continue a slow thrust forwards, extending his orgasm impossibly more, the overstimulation driving him crazy. 

You let out a whimper as you felt his dick slowly softening inside of you. Regardless, it still felt amazing pushing inside of your pussy, and you knew if he kept thrusting into you like that, you’d cum again from the feeling of it alone.

“You got one more in you, yeah?” Jisung asked lovingly as he pushed the hair off of your sweaty forehead. Your eyes barely opened, a soft cry leaving your mouth as you nodded, desperate for that high you suddenly felt absolutely addicted to.

“Of course you do, that’s why you’re so good for me.” he praised as he continued to fuck you while his dick softened. It was rubbing so delicious into your swollen clit, a mixture of your juices and his spilling from you and onto the bed sheets.

“Gotta’ make sure my Princess is satisfied.” Jisung lips found yours and he brought you in for a long, slow, burning-hot kiss. One that was no longer rushed, no longer delirious and desperate. One that, much like the night before, held mountains of love and adoration and happiness. One that showed you just how much you meant to him, how much he needed you, how hard he fell for you.

It was passionate, feeling his tongue glide over yours as his dick lazily pushed in and out of you, your orgasm building as quickly as the others had. His hands slowly trailed up underneath your shirt and he softly caressed your breasts, his fingers moving to play with your nipples as his swollen lips left yours and latched onto your neck. He licked the sensitive spot right below your jawline before biting it gently and before you knew it, another orgasm hit, an exhausted cry leaving your mouth.

“That’s my fucking girl.” Jisung praised, his hips stuttering to a halt as you came around his cock one last time. 

He watched you with pure adoration, loving the way your face twisted up in pleasure as you came around his semi-hard dick. You looked absolutely gorgeous, hair sprawled out across the pillow, body slick with sweat, your eyes barely open as your jaw fell slack. 

You were so beautiful he felt himself growing hard again already. He would've loved to keep going, fucking you like this for hours until you were both spent and exhausted, but the pained look that spread across your face when he experimentally bucked his hips forwards once more told him you were done for.

Jisung carefully pulled out of you as you tried to catch your breath. He smiled down at you before he rolled onto his back and pulled your naked body on top of him. You barely had enough energy to look at him, so you settled for resting your head across his chest. 

Jisung wrapped one of his strong hands around your waist while the other played with your hair softly, his fingers brushing through the knotted and sweaty strands.

The two of you laid like that for a while, both silently catching your breaths. You listened to his heartbeat pumping softly in your ear and it was so comforting you were sure you would've fallen asleep if Jisung hadn't spoken up into the silence that engulfed the room.

"So I've been thinking."

"Uh oh. That's dangerous." You teased. You twisted your head to smirk up at him as he grinned down at you and pinched your sides in retaliation. An adorable squeal escaped your mouth then as his fingers proceeded to gently tickle you, and Jisung swore your laugh was the most beautiful sound ever to exist on earth. He'd listen to it for eternity if he could. 

"You're a jerk." He mused, planting a soft kiss to your forehead. You beamed up at him and pinched his cheeks.

"You love me." 

Jisung didn't bother denying it. He simply just beamed back at you before leaning forwards to plant another kiss to your face, this one on your nose. 

"More than you'll ever understand." 

He paused to take a deep breath, brushing your messy hair away from your face before he continued on with what he wanted to say. 

"Anyways, as I was saying. How would you feel about moving into the house with the rest of us?" 

Still staring up at him, you arched an eyebrow and gave him another sly smile despite the way your heart rate rose quickly at his question.

"Han Jisung," you tsked. "That's a big step. We aren't even dating yet." 

You expected a pout to appear on Jisungs face at your joke, but you were surprised to find him smirking back at you instead, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek in amusement. 

"Really? 'Cause I thought it was pretty obvious that we were after I had you practically screaming my name just a minute ago." Your jaw dropped in surprise at his upfront teasing. Jisungs smirk deepened as he caught your reaction before he mimicked you in a high-pitched voice, moaning with each word as it left his mouth dramatically. 

"Oh Jisung! Oi Papi! You're so good! I love you so much! More than anything else in the world! I'm all yours! Take me, take me!”

You smacked his arm and tried to hide your giggle around a hard glare, but failed miserably. “Alright, alright. It wasn’t that dramatic.” 

Jisung let out a laugh of his own at his theatrics and snuggled you closer to him.

“Seriously though, Bubs. Move into the house with us. You practically live there already. We can turn the guest bedroom into an office for you and you can stay with me in mine. We’ve been dying to have you move in for years now.” he explained as he rubbed a hand slowly up and down your back. 

Electricity shot through the ends of his fingertips as he trailed his fingers along the curve of your spine. You melted into his touch as you stared up at him, your fingers coming up to prod at his adorable mole again. 

Moving in with Jisung and the rest of the family seemed like nothing but a green flag. You did already spend all of your time at the house rather than your own apartment, and you knew each and every member of your friend group would be absolutely over the moon if you moved in. But, you were an introvert at heart, and although you loved your friends dearly, you knew you’d miss your cherished alone time and private space.

“I don’t know Ji.” you whispered as you stared at his beauty mark, unable to meet his gentle gaze. Jisung’s grin softened as he searched your eyes for any sign of you being uncomfortable with his request. He was relieved to find none but he did notice a hint of uncertainty in them, which he knew came from your introverted nature.

“I know you always said you enjoyed having your own space, but I’d feel a hell of a lot better if you moved in with us. I wouldn’t have to worry so much about Seojun showing up out of nowhere and catching you when you’re home alone.” he whispered.

You didn’t want to see the look of disappointment you knew would come to his face when you turned down his idea, so you settled with biting your lip as if you were still undecided.

“I don’t know. I need space for all of my stuff, and you and I both know that the guest bedroom is desperately needed for the amount of parties you idiots throw during your off time. I’ve seen more naked bodies in that bed than I care to admit.”

Jisung let out a small huff and curled his mouth to the side as he fell into another thought, taking your response seriously. You waited patiently as you watched the gears in his brain work in double time while he tried to come up with a better solution.

“Well, what if we move out and get a place together? I can keep you safe.”

Your heart jumped at the proposal, warmth spreading throughout your limbs as soon as the words left Jisungs mouth. You were taken back by how quickly he managed to come up with the idea, almost like he had been debating it for a while. 

The second the words reached your ears, there wasn’t anything you wanted more, but you still found yourself shaking your head and giving him a pointed look.

“You wouldn’t hurt a fly, Ji.” you stated, as if that was reason enough not to. Jisungs eyebrows furrowed and he gave you an artificial look of disgust. “Excuse you, but if Seojun ever dared to show up around here again, you can bet your sweet ass I’d put him in the hospital.”

You let out a thankful smile before you sighed.

“You don’t have to feel obligated to move in with me to keep me safe.” you spoke, your voice soft and quiet. Jisung scoffed at your words and shook his head as if what you said was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.

“Princess, I’m not doing it as an obligation.” he paused to catch your chin in between his fingers as you began to turn your head away, forcing you to look him in the eye. “I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for me, okay? For us. Because now that I have you, the thought of not waking up next to you or coming home to you from here on out makes my stomach turn with anxiety. I don’t want to go another day or night without you by my side.”

You swore to yourself you weren’t going to cry again for the rest of the day, rest of the week even, but after seeing the honesty and sincerity and absolute devotion in his dark eyes, you felt the tears begin to form. The two of you were silent for a moment as he let his words, his emotions, sink in. 

This was it for him. You were it for him. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.

 You pouted up at him in astonishment.

“You’d… You’d move out of the family house and find a place with me?”

Jisung smiled down at you and wiped at the tears that were threatening to spill out of your widened eyes.

“Baby, I’d marry you tomorrow if I could.”

You swallowed roughly, choking back a sob at his words. It was definitely too soon to be talking about marriage, but the underlying commitment and unspoken promise in his voice rocked you to the core, rendering you speechless.

“I’m also going to sit down and talk with Chan and the managers to see what I have to do in order to bring you along with us whenever we travel for tours and performances and such.” 

You blinked up at him, the surprise from his previous statement only making you more emotional. You weren’t expecting that.

“What?” was all you managed out. Jisung brushed his fingers through your hair and let out a hearty laugh.

“What? I was serious when I said I didn’t want to go another night without sleeping next to you.”

Your eyebrow shot up in question.

“Is that really a good idea?”

Jisung shrugged his shoulders and pulled your naked bodies impossibly closer together, revelling in the feeling of your soft skin on his. He could never get enough of this, enough of you.

“Ash and Jo come along with us. So why can’t you?”

It was your turn to scoff and let out a laugh. 

“Ash has to, she's the head of make-up. And Chan threw an absolute fit when it came to Jo and that barely worked. How do you know they’ll let you?”

“I’ll throw a bigger fit.” Jisung answered, as if it was obvious. A smile broke out onto your face and you shook your head at him as he continued speaking. “I’m an idol, Baby. They have to let me. Plus, if the sex continues being this incredible, I won’t survive without it. And I can guarantee you none of them would want to put up with my cranky, stressed out ass if I’m forced to go months without you. I swear to God, there’s nothing more stress-relieving than being balls deep inside of your perfect little pussy.”

His voice had gone deep and husky, and you could feel his dick growing hard against your leg once again. Butterflies set off inside your stomach at his words, his tone. His one hand tightened its hold around your waist while the other guided your face towards his, his nose tracing yours.

“You’re so dramatic.” you whispered, your lips hardly brushing his. 

Jisungs hand held your head in place as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You immediately melted into his touch, his scent, his taste as he opened his mouth and ran his tongue along yours lazily.

“Not dramatic. Just hopelessly in love.” he whispered as he pulled away and beamed up at you, his eyes sparkling with that familiar look of lust and love and happiness. You pulled further away from him and prodded his mole again with your finger, deciding it was your favourite thing to do.

“And what happens when this honeymoon phase ends Ji?” you questioned with a quirk of your brow. Jisung turned his head and caught your finger between his teeth, biting it playfully as his hand began tracing the curvature of your ass.

“Oh trust me. It never will. You’re my destiny, Jagiya.”

You practically swooned.

“Damn,” you breathed, fanning yourself dramatically, ignoring the flush that engulfed your cheeks and spread to your ears. “You love me that much?”

Jisung squeezed your ass into the palm of his hand, unintentionally pulling you against his hardening dick.. You could see the heat and desperation growing in his darkening eyes, causing a ball of fire to brew in the pit of your stomach.

“More than you’ll ever understand y/n. My love for you is like an eternal flame. It burns brighter than the sun and hotter than any desert on earth. It is truly and utterly endless.”

At his confession, you moved to abruptly straddle his waist, his words igniting a fire in your core. His dick pushed deliciously against your opening. Jisung let out a whimper as you lightly rubbed your pussy against the head of his cock, teasing him as you sent him a knowing smirk.

“You mean like a volcano?” you inquired. The smile that broke out onto Jisungs face would forever be imprinted into your eyelids as he connected the dots to what you were saying. He shook his head at you in awe, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly to his chest as he pulled you down onto him. He filled you to the brim in one motion, ripping a loud cry from your throat.

“You’re damn right Princess. Like a Goddamn volcano.”

AHH I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE AT THE END OMG!!

as mentioned in a previous post, I will not be writing/posting a Jisung POV anytime soon, but I do want to eventually do a bonus chapter, whether that be a pov or a time jump, idk yet. i will make an announcement about it closer to the time i do, so watch out for that.

Thank you all so much for reading and joining me on my journey of reposting this fic. As my first one, it is still so dear to my heart and I'm thankful I had that chance to go back and edit what I wanted to. I'm so much happier with this version than the original on my old blog. I hope you all love it as much as I do!

Taglist || @sungshineworld @collisvng @ihrtlix @queen-in-the-shadows @cassidymb121

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#Like A Volcano #Like A Volcano Mini Series #Hannji's Mini Series #han jisung mini series #han jisung x reader #best friend skz #stray kids fic #han jisung fic #skz han #bff skz #LAV by Hannji #han jisung smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

[kiradrabbles]

Love story - yandere ticci toby x reader chapter 1

cw: stalking, obsessive behaviour, graphic depictions of violence (no shit), and Toby being a total freaky weirdo. Not explicit non-con yet.

No good deed ever goes unpunished. One late night trip to a convenience store you decide to help a man who knocks over some cans. Toby can't get his mind off you, now. And when he finally finds something that helps him get his mind off the raging in his head and the operators grasp on him, he won't let it go.

AKA. Toby is delusional, horny, and totally obsessed with you. Without further adieu... with a horrendous word count of 4000+....

Chapter 1: Meet cute

To say toby had no idea when his infatuation with you started would be a lie, he knew exactly when it started. He knew it down to the hour, the minute, the second. How could he forget the moment he met you after all? It was like a romance, one of those rom-com meet cutes. His own sappy love story with his own perfectly happy ending.

It was a cold night, he couldn't precisely remember the time, sure, but he knew the stars were up in the sky, and that it was the midst of winter as there was snow dusting the ground. Colorado's winters were cold - and as it was cold, Toby got stuck with doing the supply runs. As was apparently "fair". Because of his CIPA he couldn't feel cold (or heat), which meant any time the weather conditions were slightly less-than desirable it was his job to go half-buy half-shoplift the food the mansions residents needed for the next few days. At least, those that didn't eat human flesh.

Not that he really minded. He'd take any chance he could to get out of the mansion for a while, taking Tim's car - an old beaten up Land Rover they had stolen from a victim years ago - and speeding along the highways to the nearest store. Well, not speeding. He was always cautious in cars - he had his reasons.

And it was in one of those convenience stores where he first saw you, memory engraved into his mind forevermore.

You were beautiful that was for sure. Specks of snow sprinkled over your hair and face, light glinting off them as you made your way into the store, still shivering from the cold as you stopped in you tracks, soaking in the sudden warmth. The harsh lighting just seemed to frame you, like a halo of sorts, a spotlight sending his attention screaming to you. He couldn't tear his eyes away. Something about you distracted him, If just for a second, from the chaos in his head. The voices and the constant war of emotions died down, to make room for a new emotion. One he hadn't felt in years.

Love.

Toby knew it was love - what else could it be? His heart was pounding in his chest, he felt giddy with what must be affection as he stared at you. He wasn't used to the feeling, but what he knew was it was better than any temporary high his missions could give him, sharp as an axe and twice the rush.

You must have noticed his staring, because by the time he came to his senses and focused again you had met his gaze, head tilted with a nervous half-smile on your perfect face. He had made you smile. A nervous one, but yet a smile, nonetheless.

A sharp crack sounded as his neck jerked, bringing him screeching back to reality, breaking the eye contact and bringing his gaze down to his poorly bandaged hands. Oh, how he wished he dressed better.

He hadn't even bothered to throw on a bandage on his face to cover his gash, instead opting for a single-use blue face mask Jack had lying around. The hoodie he was donned had thumb holes ripped into the cuffs, and he hoped like hell it wasn't one of the ones with obnoxious blood stains. He couldn’t see any on the front, but he would not put it past him to somehow have some sprayed on his back, he got pretty.. Brutal when in the zone.

The next time he looked back to you, you were bent over a little, looking down at some energy drinks. He allowed his eyes to drift over you, taking in everything. Before he could take out his phone and take a photo - not in a strange way, of course, just to remember the occasion - he ticced. At the most inconvenient time possible, naturally. 'Birdie!' he chirped out, followed by a bird whistle, which sent you looking behind yourself in startled confusion, and Toby's gaze to his hands once again.

He continued skirting around you for the next minute or so, before it happened. He was kneeled down, looking at the drinks you were looking at before, imagining sharing one with you, hands brushing each other’s. Toby could finish it in one gulp, seeing you pout, then cup your face and kiss it into your mouth, watching you squeal and close your eyes, lean into him. Some might argue this was too soon, or strange to imagine, but Toby knew it wasn't. He was in love with you, after all, so it was normal.

He was brought out of those pleasant daydreams by a loud clatter, looking down. He'd knocked some drinks off the shelf.

"Fuh-fuck." he cursed quietly

He reached down to fetch them, but someone got to it first - you got to it first. Your hands were so small as they picked it up, he wanted to cup them in his hands and kiss them, feel your soft skin against his own, callous and scarred.

"Th-thanks" he muttered, looking down at you again as he rose up to his full hight, a few inches taller than you are. "S-sorry about that, I have tour- wow! - Tourette’s. I have Tourette’s."

"It's fine" you gave a little smile, nervously picking at your hands. "Don't worry about it."

The first thing that struck him was your voice. It was.. Perfect. It suited you perfectly. He wanted to play it on loop, set it as his ringtone, his new favourite song.

The second? You didn't judge him for his Tourette’s. Of course, you didn't, you were perfect. You were made for him; you wouldn't judge him for anything like that. You weren't like anybody else. He wanted then more than anything to take you in his arms right there, lift you up and take you back to the mansion, to his room, hide you from the rest of the world, have you all to himself. Instead, he waited behind you at the checkout, taking in the faint smell of you, trying to keep a handle on his ticcing and twitching, at least when you were there.

When it was his turn he barely looked at the cashier, slapping a wad of cash on the table and watching him sort through it, bowing his head a little under tobies harsh gaze, snatching the change as soon as it was handed to him. He couldn't lose you, let you get too far, he had to keep track of you.

He tracked you like he would a victim, trailing behind you in the Land Rover, just far behind enough you wouldn't register it, a few cars back. He followed you to an apartment block, parking across the road, watching as you exited the car, oblivious to the eyes of your future lover trailing you.

Thankfully for him you were on the first floor, obvious from the way light visible in one of the windows turned on a few seconds after you entered the building. He made a mental note of the room you stayed in and pulled out from the car park, making his way back to the mansion. It would be suspicious if he came back too late. He would come back for you, though. He had to.

And that he did. He started with simple things, waiting outside the apartment for you to leave and trailing you, learning your routines, your most visited locations, anything about you he could pick up. You liked to read, adorable. He would love to read with you, having your tiny form on his lap, book in hand, resting against him. But until then he would settle for entering the bookstore after you, trailing his hands over the shelves he knew you touched.

It was through this book-store that he finally found your name. His lovers name. He was skulking around the shelves just out of your view, watching you, and occasionally taking a quick photo, with the new phone he had recently brought. More modern than the last one - not just because he needed a better one to film you with, but the decent camera really didn't hurt.

 Not in a creepy, stalker way of course. He was sure if he sat down and asked you, you really wouldn't mind.

"Oh, Sidney!" You called, waving to a girl at the counter. You knew her? "Hey!"

"Oh, hey [Y/N]."

[Y/N]. That was your name. His [Y/N], soon to be [Y/N] Rogers. He felt giddy with delight.

He didn't stop there, either. As time passed, as he memorised your routine, the shitty movie theatre you worked at, your favourite stores and café's and places to be, he started to know when you would and wouldn't be in your apartment. And what good proxy didn’t know how to lockpick?

Your apartment smelt like you, that was the first thing that struck him. A light, airy sort of scent, that he just couldn't get enough of. He found himself leaning down, opening a drawer and taking a long sniff. It looked like mostly fresh laundry, hoodies and shorts.

He had time; he knew that much. You wouldn't return from your job at that crappy local movie theatre for at least another 3 hours. It was a decent enough job, he supposed, though his skin crawled at the thought of you getting hit on or yelled at by customers. He had had half a mind to follow you and wait just outside, to give anyone who gave you a hard time or even looked at you funny a piece of his mind. He refrained, for now however, deciding instead to make the most of his time and spending it getting as close to you as physically possible. Speaking of close..

As he rummaged through your drawers, he came across one with more.. Intimate content. Underwear, it looked like. Your underwear. He reached his hands into the dresser, taking out a bra almost reverently. This had touched your skin, and not just your skin. Your breasts. He was indirectly touching your breasts. His face was burning and his heart was pounding as he held it, grinning so wide it would have hurt if he could feel pain.

He set it back down in the drawer as another thing caught his eye, what looked like a matching set. Lacy black panties and a skimpy black bra. He hadn't imagine you'd own something like that, but he wasn't complaining. Quite the opposite in fact. He'd ask you to wear it for him when you two were together, but for now, his imagination would suffice. He stuffed a pair of panties he was sure you wouldn't miss into your pocket, and turned to look at the rest of the room.

Over the next week or so, he made himself at home when you weren't there. It was as if he was your lover, your live in boyfriend. He used your toothbrush, laid in your bed, next to where you would lay, imagining your sleeping form lying next to his. He 'borrowed' your clothes and rummaged through your bins, and even killed those racoons that had been raiding your bins for you. He did feel a little bad for the beasts, but anything that inconvenienced his love could not be tolerated. 

As a testament to his own self-control, he managed to prevent himself from hiding in your closet and watching you sleep for the majority of the days, no matter how tempting it was. That was, until, you tripped and hurt your ankle on the way to work. And since he could hardly pick you up and kiss you and take care of you, he would do the next best thing. Stick around and make sure you were okay.

That was all he was doing, he told himself, as he shut the door on himself, leaving a good 30 minute window for you to get back. He was being a good boyfriend.

The closet wasn't quite spacious by any means, but he fit fine, If his legs were bent at a weird angle. What did it matter? It wasn't as if he could feel them cramping, and even if he could, it would be worth it to be so close to his beloved. Perhaps it was stupid, reckless. What if he ticced and alerted you? What if you ran, or called the police? Nevertheless love clouded over his logic and better judgement, and so he stayed.

He was euphoric when you got back, not even casting a glance at the usually empty closet. He peered through the gap in the door with wide, enraptured eyes as you continued your daily routine. He stayed staring as you sat on your laptop, and especially as you changed into more comfortable clothes, facing directly at him. It was hard to tell whether the pounding of his heart in his throat and his shaking hands as he took the phone out were nerves at the thought of being seen, or excitement at seeing you so bare in front of him, in just your underwear.

When he felt the tightness in his pants, he decided it was the latter.

                           -o0o-

Over the next few days, he became a regular in your closet too. Spending the night in the mansion became a rarity that  he only happened to do when he came back from a late night mission and needed a shower and change of clothes. He preferred being with you, of course, no one enjoys being away from their partner.

The winter was fading by the time he worked up the balls to talk to you again. You were at work in the movie theatre, and he decided he would visit you. He would charm you, and ask you for your number, he had it all planned out.

He donned the best clothing he could find in his closet - a Black turtleneck instead of his usual scrappy hoodies, some trousers, he'd shined his boots, and even worn some cologne! He'd stolen it from a victim previously, and until now, he never had a reason to wear it. He gave himself one last cursory glance in the mirror on the way out, checking his hair wasn't as unruly as usual and that his gash was covered, and left.

The movie theatre wasn't too busy, he was relieved to see. There were only two people on cashier duty, you, and another girl. Most people were in her queue, he noted. She looked pretty, he supposed that was the reason why.

Idiots. Why even look at her when they could be blinded by the perfection that was you? Although, internally he was glad really. Less competition.

He tried to seem as casual as possible as he strode in, taking his place in your line, behind what looked like a young couple. How ironic, Toby thought, that he was behind a couple. That was what they were about to be. In love, holding hands, giving each other knowing glances and kisses on the cheeks.

When it was his turn, he walked up to you, jerking his neck and giving a nervous smile, trying and failing to seem like some confident heartthrob.

"Oh, hey, I know you" You spoke, returning his smile. You remembered him. Had you been thinking about him too? "You're uh.. Convenience store guy, right?"

 "Y-yeah, that's me. Hey."

"Hey" If you continued smiling like that at him he might just turn into mush in front of you. "What can I get for ya?"

"Oh, uh.." He looked up at the digital signage showing the movies on, deciding on some generic looking horror movie "H-how’s 'The - wow! - the Blackcoats daughter'?"

"One ticket for the Blackcoats, alright. Anything else I can get for you sir?"

"Muh-my names Toby, not sir" He stuttered out, earning a little laugh from you that made his heart soar "One B-bucket of popcorn please? L-large"

"That was horrible. I'm [Y/N]. " you respond, before you turn around, perfect hair swishing behind you as you start to fill up a box of popcorn for him. Now was his chance. C'mon Toby, c'mon- She remembered him, she must like him too.

"O-oh, and I forgot one - birdie - one thing."

"Hm?" You turn and face him again

"c-could I get your number? To g-go." He gave you the most charming smile he could muster, though It most likely ended up looking like a begging puppy, desperate for a treat.

You were surprised for a second, blinking a couple of times, before he could see your face flush the prettiest pink you'd ever seen, opening your mouth for a second, searching for a response. You seemed flustered - he made you flustered. God, you were so cute it made him ache.  "W-well, sure, do you want me to write it down, or..?"

"I-I have a phone, hang on" He fished his phone out of his pocket, quickly checking his photos app was shut. It would be unfortunate if you saw just how much he adored you quite yet.

You took the phone and typed it in, naming your contact '[Y/N] :)', before handing the phone back. As he took it, your fingers brushed his, and he could of sworn he felt actual electricity pass through you, fingertips tingling where he left yours.

He sent a little text 'Hi, it's toby :)' to test you hadn't given him the wrong number by mistake, smiling even wider when your phone gave an affirmative chime, his bandage over his mouth crinkling a little.

"T-thanks" He managed, sure his voice sounded positively giddy with delight.

"No problem" You smiled back at him "Have a good view!"

He took his ticket and popcorn, and in his excitement, strode out of the movie theatre entirely, forgetting the movie he'd brought. His head was far too full of thoughts of his beloved.

          -o0o-

As much as he longed to spend another night with you, that day he had a mission to attend to. It didn't dampen his mood however, he didn't think anything could. He got your number. You liked him! You had to, why else would you give it to him? He was so excited he was practically vibrating.

He swung one of his hatchets over his shoulder, practically skipping down the hall and out the door to where Tim and Brian were waiting to murk some oblivious camper who had decided to set up camp in the forest.

"Someone's in a good mood" Tim spoke with his southern drawl, flicking his cigarette butt onto the forest floor and crushing it with the heel of his boot, before taking his mask and covering his face fully once again, letting out a tired sigh. He was one of the few proxies who didn't take much joy in killing.

Toby just nodded. He sure was.

Brian was silent, striding ahead of them, presumably in the direction of their latest victims. His AK-47 strapped to his back, and the baclava with the odd looking frown already donned.

"Hoodies frontin'" Tim spoke, explaining the silence from the man, as he followed along. Hoodie was generally non-verbal, so it didn't surprise him.

Toby had trouble concentrating, on the walk to the campsite. His mind kept drifting to you. More than once Tim had caught him taking his phone out and glancing at the screen. He was just checking if you'd responded to his text, even though he assumed you wouldn't until your shift was over.

"Waiting for somethin'?" Tim spoke, briefly pausing his walk to look at Toby

"Nuh-nothing."

Their short interaction was interrupted by Hoodie holding his hand up to silence them, pointing to a tent in the woods a  little way ahead of them. It looked to be a family of three. A father, a daughter, and a Wife. All easy enough targets, no visible weapons save for the pen-knife on one of the logs. That wouldn't be even close to a match for one of them, let alone all three.

"We'll each take one" Tim said, breaking the silence, earning a nod from Hoodie and a 'yep' from Toby. It was go time.

Toby started to walk over slowly, before stopping, just before they noticed him, wet leaves making soft sounds under his feet. He readied his hatchet, holding it behind his head. Three, two, one..

Thwack.

The hatchet landed where he wanted it with a wet thud, buried halfway through the mans forearm. Sure, he could have gone for the head, but he hardly felt like a quick kill. He needed a way to vent out all his excitement, after all.

The man was shocked to the point he couldn't move, eyes wide and staring in horror at his now half-attacked limb, nerves severed, falling limp in front of him with Toby's axe still lodged in. Toby himself let out a manic 'whoop whoop!', the adrenaline of the kill finally kicking in.

The shrill, terrified scream of the child was cut short by the echoing sound of a shot, and Toby watched as a round buried itself in her forehead. Hoodie, always the efficient one.

And then the man stood up, lunging for the knife, and his tunnel vision kicked in, as he sprinted to him, remaining hatchet in hand. It was somewhat impressive, Toby noted, he could even stand losing that much blood at once. Nevertheless, he wouldn't be standing much longer, as Toby barrelled at him full speed, sending the two of them sprawling into the ground, leaves flying up in a shower as they thudded down.

Toby came to his senses first, raising himself up, hatchet behind his head, grinning like the maniac that he was. Thud. Crack. The sweet sound of ribs crunching under his hatchet. He looked down, watching the way the blood squirted and pooled on the still-screaming mans chest. Again. Thwack. Crack. More blood, more screams. He was vaguely aware of it splashing his face as he licked his lips, acknowledging the familiar copper tang against his tongue.

In a sudden show of theatrics he dropped the axe to his side, bending down over the rib-cage and tearing the ribcage apart, the muscle and sinew nothing compared to his advanced strength. With a tear they were out of the way, strew either side of the now motionless corpse of the man. He plunged his hand into his chest, searching around in the guts, which were slippery with blood, before coming across what he wanted. The heart.

With a swift flick of his wrist he plucked the heart out of the mans chest, watching as it beat in his tight grip. He held it up, briefly considering gifting it to you. He could buy you some flowers and turn up at your door, blood-stained from head to toe, and present them to you.

"I killed him because I love you!" He'd say, and you'd swoon and fall into his arms and kiss him as he carried you back.

As oblivious as he was, he wasn't so stupid as to actually think your reaction would be so eager, casting the thought away. He snorted, throwing the heart so it hit the back of Tim, who was standing over the woman’s body, her neck neatly broken.

He spun around "Don't do that shit, Toby!"

Toby just giggled, righting himself and kicking the head of the body, watching it loll. As he stood up, he noticed something sticking out of his torso. Was that..? He pulled it out, and sure enough, there was the knife the guy had. Huh, he actually landed a hit. Kudos to him. The knife was discarded on the ground.

Hoodie cleared his throat, beckoning them to follow him back to the mansion, and so they did, in mostly silence. Tim neglected to point out Toby's incessant phone checking this time, thankfully.

He made his way back to the mansion, avoiding most of it's residents other than a quick scratch of Smile Dog. Locking the door to his room, stripping down and dumping his axes on his bed along with his phone, glancing down at where the knife had wounded him. Sure enough, it was already starting to scab up. One benefit of being a proxy was it was really, really hard to get hurt.

He slipped into the shower, not bothering to change the temperature on the water. He couldn't feel it after all, why bother?

By the time he'd gotten out, less than 10 minutes later, he chucked a towel round himself, not bothering to comb his mop of hair. He'd gotten all the blood out of it, that was good enough.

He leant over, dripping water on his bedsheets and dirty clothes, to check the phone. He beamed, looking down at the notification on the home screen, Letting out a content kind of sigh. He swept the bloody clothes and axes off the bed, dropping the towel on the floor and crawling in, not bothering to get dressed. He was too excited to talk to you now, what did that matter?

'Hey :)' You'd said, followed by 'Sorry the response was late, was still at work'

He briefly debated his response, before settling with a simple 'It's fine :)'

'How are you?'

'I'm good' he paused, he didn't want to seem too dry. 'Just been working out.' Well.. It was just a little lie, really. All that running and killing counted as exercise, surely.

He talked to you for almost a whole hour, kicking his legs like a schoolgirl every time you'd responded to him. He'd asked about your favourite book series, grinning as wide as he could when you infodumped to him. You felt close enough to share this with him! He was over the moon.

Eventually it came to an end as all good things do and you said goodnight, telling him you had work the next morning. And you needed to rest. He knew. It was cute you wanted to tell him though, like you cared, wanted to make sure he didn't feel like he was being ignored. You were so considerate; his lover was so cute.

He turned out the lights, laying on his side with the phone, scrolling through the pictures and videos he had of you. It had become a nightly routine whenever he was in the mansion, to help you feel closer to him.

He came across a photo he had recently taken - you in that matching black set he'd found when he first broke into your apartment. You were trying it on in the mirror, and holy shit, you looked perfect. The most beautiful thing he'd ever laid his eyes on. Even now, in a slightly grainy image taken through the drawer of a cupboard, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Sure enough, he felt a familiar feeling in his lower stomach, looking down. He could spare a few minutes before he went to bed.  

#ticci toby x reader #ticci toby #creepypasta #fic #cw he's a weirdo

[lovelettersfromluna]

Wasted Summers

Summary: Yet another cliche store of a friends with benefits arrangement blossoming into something that is so much more.

an: this went from something that I wanted to make a Drabble about, to remembering an awesome request that someone sent in, to mixing them both?? To the sweet nony that sent this, I hope this lives up to your expectations of me, and I thank you (and everyone else) for trusting me with something you’d like to see written out! I tweaked a few things, so I hope that’s okay. The ending is sooo rushed on this bc I really wanted to get something out to you all as quickly as possible so I apologize! As always, I love you all so so much. (P.S chapter two of vampire!Ellie is on the way!)

Warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, smut, angst, Ellie is a giant fucking player and had no intentions of settling down (or does she? 😏), Ellie is extremely emotionally unavailable, scissoring, lots of making out, lots of pet names, reader catches a cold, mentions of headaches, medicine, and just your general cold symptoms tbh, please lmk if I missed anything!

You had only made the mistake of asking Ellie what you were to her one time in your friendship.

You couldn’t really help yourself either. She just looked so fucking pretty that night, praising you so well, saying all the right things. Could anyone really blame you for taking it the wrong way? Assuming that she was trying to send signals to you in the same way that you’d tried to send to her?

“Fuck…that’s it…always so fucking good for me, my good fucking girl” she panted out above you as she drilled her sopping wet pussy down onto yours, your head absolutely spinning with the feeling she gave you, the way your heart overflowed with the delicious feeling of euphoria.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, eyebrows furrowed as your fingers dug into the skin of Ellie’s thighs, your own legs trembling as you felt your orgasm growing closer and closer.

Ellie was quick to grab your cheeks, squishing them together and forcing you to form a pout as she tugged your face to look at her.

“No no no…look at me baby, keep your fucking eyes on me when you cum…that’s it…that’s a good girl” she groaned out through gritted teeth, always loving watching you struggle as you came undone at her doings.

“I’m…fuck Ellie…I’m…c-close” you stuttered out, back arching as your lips parted, glossy eyes staring up at the girl almost in awe as she drove you towards your third orgasm of the night, struggling to hang onto the very thin rope that was keeping you connected to this world.

She smirked down at you, giving you an encouraging nod as her tattooed hands gripped your thighs tightly, sure to leave marks in the morning.

“That’s my fuckin girl…come on baby…fuck…I’m…fuck!” She shouted out, her own back arching as her hips sputtered, her pussy gushing onto yours as she came hard with a strangled moan. The sound of her cumming alone was enough to make your own eyes flutter shut, hands flying down to your mattress as you gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles aching as you screamed out Ellie’s name over and over again, tears threatening to spill out your eyes with the intensity of your orgasm.

“M-mm….fuck” you stuttered out, struggling to catch your breath as your naked chest rose and fell, trying to find a steady pace for yourself. Ellie gave a lazy chuckle as she stared down at you, her hand coming up to give your cheeks a quick squeeze.

“Did good for me princess..” she praised you, your heart swelling at her words.

Ellie’s words never failed to make your head spin.

She was quick to roll off of you, her back hitting your bed with a thud as she laid next to you, staring up at your ceiling as she tried to recollect herself.

And that’s what it usually was with you and Ellie. She’d come to your house, you guys would either play video games or watch a movie, she would get handsy and things would always end with her tugging you to your bedroom, either between your legs or on top of you. You loved every second of it, being with Ellie, feeling Ellie, it was all perfect all the time but…

You couldn’t help but want more.

Your heart felt empty every time she left, every time she jumped up from your bed, claiming that she either had to wake up early for work in the morning, or she had someone waiting for her in the city, leaving you alone in your apartment with nothing more than a quick squeeze on your hip, and the slamming of your door as she left. And maybe it was the fact that she didn’t immediately leave your bed that night that even prompted you to ask in the first place, a silent sign from the universe that this was your chance to understand where you stood with her.

“Ellie…” you called out her name softly, still staring at your ceiling before you turned on your side to look at her. She responded with a gentle hum, her arm bent and propped against the back of her head. Your heart is beating so fast now, staring at her pretty features, her profile was almost from that of a painting, or a sculpture. It made you wanna reach out and gently trace them, burning the feeling of her face into your memory.

You don’t realize you’re staring until she looks over at you, eyebrows furrowing for a minute before she gives a chuckle. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She questions, and you know she’s teasing you. You roll your eyes before giving her a soft, playful nudge.

A moment passes, and you’re simply staring at her, trying to find the words to say to her, how to properly ask her what you’ve been dying to ask her.

Her features soften, a soft pout on her lips as she turns to you more, her body facing yours entirely. “Hey…everything okay?” She asks gently, and her tone alone is making you want to pass out then and there, the care in her voice almost making you whine.

You take a deep inhale, before your mouth opens and you finally say it.

“What…what are we?” You mumble out, blinking a few times as you stare up at the girl, waiting for her to respond.

But it starts to feel like you’re waiting forever, because Ellie’s jaw goes slack as she stares at you with wide eyes, clearly shocked that you’d even think to ask her something like that. It puts your stomach in knots, and it makes you regret even asking in the first place, but before you can even retract fully, telling her some lame excuse about it being just a joke, or a dumb prank, she’s opening her mouth to respond.

“I…we’re friends…you know that, don’t you?” She asks carefully, eyeing you as if this should all be common knowledge to you, as if you’d always been on the same page to begin with.

You blink a few times at her, unable to respond to her or even agree with what she’s saying. You feel choked up, throat closing up as the inevitable tears threaten to spill past your cheeks, the girl of your dreams confirming that you two are in fact not on the same page.

“Don’t you?” She repeats, her voice growing worried as she stares down at you with her eyebrows furrowed, scared that she’s seeing things when she notices the way your eyes gloss over.

And it prompts you to quickly clear your throat, practically sucking the tears back into your body as you give her a quick nod, all while scooting away from her a bit. Because suddenly, it feels like Ellie is entirely too close to you in your bed.

“Yeah…yeah I do” you try to chirp out, putting on your best attempt at trying to sound like you weren’t completely dying inside.

Of course she can see right through it, the girl staring down at you wearily as she tries to read you. You almost hope she’ll speak up about it, comfort you and tell you that whatever you had going on was okay, and it was normal to not have a label on things.

But she doesn’t.

She gives you a quick nod before she awkwardly clears her own throat, the tension in your room thick as she reaches behind her on the ground for her t shirt, quickly pulling it on over her head before she scrambles out of your bed to search for her clothes. One by one, she silently dresses herself in her underwear, and her jeans, and soon, she looks exactly like the way she looked when she first got to your house.

You aren’t sure if Ellie’s ever been so eager to leave you before.

You inhale deeply as you sit up, tugging the blankets over your chest, suddenly scared to be bare in front of the girl, as if she wasn’t sucking on your tits mere moments ago. You can’t even find it in yourself to ask why she’s in such a hurry, the embarrassment from your first question eating you up to almost nothing as it is.

Ellie’s the one that breaks the silence first.

“Right…so…I gotta meet Jesse in town…I’ll uh…” she trails off as she trips over her own feet, walking backwards to quickly open your room door. It looks almost like she can’t leave quick enough, so you simply nod and give her a wave, with a half smile.

“Yeah…bye Ellie” your tone is dismissive, way too dismissive and you know that. But at this point, you want Ellie out of your apartment just as much as it seems like she wants to leave. It’s too awkward, to much of a grey area has covered the both of you that you desperately want to escape now, even if you were the one that brought it onto yourself.

She’s taken aback by the way you rush her out, regardless of the fact that she’s being just as dodgy as you are, if not more. She tries her best to ignore the way her heart aches at the way you’re dismissing her, avoiding the way it makes her feel like you’re kicking her out. Instead, she swallows thickly and gives a quick nod before she stutters over her own words, a sorry attempt at a goodbye, and leaves.

When she does leave, you’re left with a heavy feeling settled onto you. It makes you feel like you’ve done something wrong, like you’ve ruined something by talking too much or opening your mouth. Things were fine between you and Ellie, a bit confusing, but if it wasn’t broken, why try to fix it?

That night, you could only lay in your bed that smelled too heavily of Ellie, and think of all the ways you could try to force not only her, but yourself to forget about the events that just took place, desperate to get back to the way things were.

Waking up with a sore throat and a runny nose a few weeks after the incident with Ellie seemed to be just your luck.

Perhaps all of the stress and overthinking that you endured during the time weakened your immune system, the lack of sleep that you were getting not helping much either. You couldn’t really help it, not entirely at least. You should have seen it coming though, all the signs were right there in front of you.

Things had been fine with you and Ellie after everything happened that night, everything going back to normal almost too easily. You were both very much on the same page of pretending as though none of it happened, and Ellie only confirmed that when she texted you the morning after asking if you were going to attend some plans that your friend group had included you in a few days prior.

While the relief you felt alleviated a lot of the stress the situation brought on, you couldn’t avoid the nagging feeling that came with the unknown. Your overthinking was in overdrive of course, constantly wondering what Ellie was thinking, what she was going to do with your friendship, it was all too overwhelming.

Things that night with Ellie were fine, great even. You two were sat together in the booth of the lounge that you had all met up in, her hands dancing along your thighs, toying with the hem of your dress as you laughed at something Dina said. To your surprise, she even leaned into you towards the end of the night, whispering in your ear, asking if you wanted to get out of there, which was a telltale sign that Ellie wanted to get you alone.

You should’ve known you were coming down with something when you gave her a shy smile and politely declined, making up some excuse about being tired. Tired was an understatement, you were exhausted, and the worst part was, you couldn’t put your finger on what the hell was going on with you. Ellie could sense it to, frowning at the way you quickly brushed her off and scooted out of the booth, making you the first one to go home that night.

You thought it was just a lack of sleep, your body begging you to just relax and take care of yourself for once. Making a big cup of tea and giving yourself a warm bath would do just the trick, surly. You felt hopeful when tucking yourself into bed and drifting off to sleep almost instantly.

However, the next morning was brutal. Your throat felt like you’d been swallowing nails, your nose stuffy, head filled with so much pressure it felt as though it would pop at any time. Instantly, you knew you were sick, and as inconvenient as it was, you were due for it. You hadn’t gotten sick in who knows how long, so it almost felt like your body was forcing you to focus on yourself rather than Ellie for once.

You always wondered how people function properly when they were sick, getting things done, being productive, because you were the complete opposite. Being sick meant shutting down for approximately seven to nine business days until all of your symptoms were at least a tiny bit alleviated. You wouldn’t talk to anyone, or even tell anyone that you were sick, all you wanted was to sulk in bed and feel sorry for yourself until you got even remotely better.

You didn’t even text Ellie.

And your absence is what sends her into somewhat of a frenzy of anxiety. She’s so used to hearing from you almost every day, if not through text messages or calls, then through other apps where you two can send stupid memes and videos to each other. The first few days she rights off as you simply being busy, even if the entire situation at your house has her on edge and she’s thinking the absolute worst. But a day or two turns into a week, and it’s the longest Ellie has ever gone without hearing from you.

So now shes worried.

Because what happened to you? Are you angry with her? Have you finally realized that Ellie isn’t enough for you? That this awkward little game that you and her are playing is far too good for you? Because it is. Ellie knows deep in her bones that it is, she knows that she’s playing a dangerous game with you, dangling someone as fantastic as you by a thread, keeping you both separated by the whole friends with benefits facade that she knows is a load of bullshit.

And why does she do it? The same reason why anyone does, of course.

Ellie is a coward.

She’s the biggest coward there ever was, terrified of commitment, scared that the second she makes you here’s entirely things will change, and she’ll be forced to lose the single best thing that’s ever happened to her.

That, and the fact that you and Ellie have been friends since you were kids.

You both happened to be the new kids at the school in town, and it’s what brought you two together. You found friends in one another, and you decided to tackle the cruel adolescent world of middle school together rather than on your own.

The friends with benefits thing didn’t start until college, when one drunk night together lead to you straddling Ellie in some gross frat bedroom, grinding down on her as you pushed your tongue down her throat. At that point, Ellie had experienced many different nights with many different girls, earning a bit of a reputation at your university as a player, which you were very aware of. But regardless of all the girls she’d fallen into bed with, no one ever made her feel the way you did, never even came close.

And Ellie knew she couldn’t let go of that.

It became her own personal addiction, the silent agreement of fucking her best friend becoming a very frequent occurrence. Sleepovers would turn into nights filled with kisses and bliss, study sessions would almost always end with Ellie hovering over you with her hand shoved between your legs, playing with your pussy as much as she wanted until you became a moaning mess for her.

You two never truly discussed what you were, not until that night at least.

Ellie always thanked her lucky stars over the fact that you simply went along with it, allowing her to play with your body whenever she wanted, and you with hers. It was like a blessing, her beautiful best friend that she’d been obsessed with since the first day of sixth grade, now letting her see her in a way that she knew many didn’t see you in.

She should’ve known it was too good to be true.

Because that look in your eyes that night made Ellie’s heart race, and while she’d dreamt of you asking her that more times than she could count, it suddenly became her biggest nightmare. She couldn’t leave your room fast enough, the look of want, need, love in your eyes, practically begging her to make you more than just her friend she occasionally fucked.

As much as she didn’t want them to, she knew things would change after that.

She saw it in the way you acted that night at the lounge, denying her of alone time with you, quickly scurrying out of the booth as if you couldn’t get further away from her. And now your absence was only further confirming Ellie’s worst nightmare. You were done with her, years of friendship flushed down the fucking toilet because she was too much of a fucking coward to…

To….

To tell you how in love with you she was.

For once, why couldn’t she suck up her pride and just admit that she was in love? Did love make her weak? Did it mean she had to leave behind a life she didn’t even enjoy that much? The girls were great, a fun way to pass the time, but none of them held a candle to you, and she knew that. She even tried hooking up with someone the night she left your apartment, and it made her feel fucking sick.

And now you were leaving, and she had no one to blame but herself.

In true Ellie fashion though, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

As much as she knew she didn’t deserve one, she wanted an explanation. You both had been friends for too fucking long for her to be thrown away like this, even if it was her fault.

So? A little over a week since that night at the lounge, Ellie is marching her way up to your apartment, and landing a hard knock on your familiar front door.

The noise makes you jolt out of your sleep, the sound of the harsh knocking echoing throughout your small apartment. It makes you whine, because after yet another miserable night with no sleep, you were finally able to knock yourself out with some cold medicine you had delivered to your house. The sleep was heavy and uncomfortable but it was the only way you were able to get even a little bit of shut eye. You hoped and prayed that whoever it was would get the memo that you wouldn’t come to the door, however another string of knocks made you groan loudly, your sore throat rattling as you did so.

Your bones ached as you tossed your blanket back and swung your legs over the bed. The cold wooden floor was unwelcoming to your feet, making you shiver as you pushed yourself off of the bed with weak arms, slowly trudging towards your door.

When you finally get to it, you try your best to clear your throat, knowing that it’s all in vain. Nothing was strong enough to bring back your voice from the raspy sound that it was now, all the coughing and sneezing making it so that you could barely get one syllable out let alone a full sentence.

“Yes?” You rasp out as you opened the door, pouting in annoyance as you rub your sleep filled eyes, arms wrapping around your body to stop the inevitable shiver that ran down your spine every second.

Ellie feels her heart break when she sees you. Your hair is messy, dark bags settled under your eyes, nose red, and skin lacking the usual radiance you always emitted. You didn’t even wear your usual cute matching pajama set, instead wearing a big t shirt that nearly swallowed you whole, and a pair of baggy sweatpants that were extremely faded.

You were sick.

And all the mean things she had planned to say to you suddenly disappear, now replaced with the urge to take care of you, and beg to understand why you didn’t call her when you started feeling this way.

“Baby…” she almost whines out, heart aching at the sight of you. You didn’t even realize who it was at first, your fever ridden brain having a hard time adjusting to the figure at the door. Her voice gives it away first.

“Ellie?” You croak out, and the sound is nearly enough to bring Ellie to tears.

Without another word, she’s gently pushing past you to get into your apartment, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes never lead your figure as she studies your face.

“Ellie…you shouldn’t be here, I’m really not-“ you try, because the last thing you want is to get Ellie sick, subjecting her to the hell that you’ve had to live through for the past week.

She quickly cuts you off, shaking her head as she grabs a hold of your wrist, tugging you to your room.

“When did you start feeling this way?” Her tone is stern, but soft, and it makes your heart melt.

A nasty cough rattles your chest, and you groan at the pain you feel in your tired lungs. You let her pull the sheets back and help you into bed, instantly sighing as the warmth wraps you up, making you feel a bit better.

You clear your throat before you respond. “The morning after the lounge…didn’t wanna bother anyone” you confess, now letting the girl tuck you into bed.

There’s a permanent frown on her face as she bring her palm to your head, which only deepens when she feels how warm you are. “You’re burning up…” she mumbles under her breath.

She looks around your room, only to see that your beside table is littered with tiny signs that you’d been trying to take care of yourself. There were cough drops, different bottles of medicine, a box of tissues and a small compress. She sighs as she grabs one of the bottles, reading the back before she speaks to you again.

“When’s the last time you took this?” She questions, another ugly cough rattling through your poor lungs, making you whine as you push your face into your pillow, feeling utterly fed up with the current condition of your body.

“Dunno…just been trying to sleep it off instead” your words make Ellie frown deeply, knowing how stubborn you’d always been with medicine, often times far too deep in felt pity to even bring yourself to take it.

“Well you’re going to take some now..come on, sit up” she urges you gently, her tattooed hand gently grabbing your arm and pulling you sit up. She shook out the correct dosage of medicine for you before she handed it to you with a bottle of water, her green eyes filled with worry and concern as she eyed you as you took it.

She felt her heart ache at the mere sight of you, a permanent pout on your lips, eyes drained of the familiar brightness she’d come to love oh so much. She could see how much it visibly pained you to even drink the water, your hand coming up to cup your throat as if to soothe the pain from the outside in.

“Hurts?” She questioned gently, her hand coming behind you to rub your back gently. You give her a slow nod, eyes closing as you lean into her and her touch, the feeling of her warm hands making the chill in your bones melt almost immediately.

She gives you a nod before she helps you lay back down. “Stay here…I know what’ll help, okay baby?” She reassures you. You’re too weak to even respond, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you settle down against your pillow, the medicine already doing its work to give you a break from the intense cough your body had grown used to within the last few days.

Ellie is on her feet once she’s sure you’ve settled, walking out of your bedroom and into your kitchen where she grabs your little tea kettle, filling it up with water and putting the water to boil. She grabs your favorite mug while the water heats up, as well as some peppermint tea and some honey.

She finds herself deep in thought while she waits for the water to boil, a soft frown playing on her lips as her knuckle raps against your counter.

Ellie absolutely hates herself for not being more proactive with you. She should’ve known you were getting sick from the moment you weren’t responding to her text messages earlier in the week, it was a typical sign on your end that you weren’t feeling like yourself, something that you’d often do to not burden anyone with what you were feeling. But you were all alone, and it was Ellie’s job as your friend to take care of you when you needed her.

She sighs to herself as she finishes making up your tea, tapping the spoon on the edge of your mug before she brought it to her mouth, humming at the taste before she nodded to herself and brought it to your room.

The medicine must have knocked you out immediately, because your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in the slightest as soft snore escapes from your body. It makes Ellie groan to herself as she gently sits on your bed, hating the fact that she had to disturb your sleep.

“Baby?…come on pretty girl…wake up and drink a bit of this, then you can go back to bed” her soft voice reaches you in the depths of your fever ridden brain, and it makes you blink your eyes open to see if it’s another dream, or if she’s actually there.

Hazy eyes blink back at Ellie, a soft whine leaving your lips as you bring your hand up to rub your eyes, the nasty cough rattling through your chest as you promptly sit up for her, reaching out and taking the mug.

“You shouldn’t be here Ellie….what if I get you sick?” You croak out before bringing the mug to your lips, taking a sip of the warm drink, allowing it to soothe your aching throat.

Ellie watches you intently before she rolls her eyes playfully. “Jokes on you, getting sick would just mean you have to take care of me” she gives you a wink, and you groan softly, nudging her with your blanket clad foot before you take another sip and set the mug on your bedside table.

“Feels like my fever broke…I should be able to take care of myself now, El” you try, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against your pillow, tugging your blankets up to your chin.

Ellie watches you closely, you were clearly in need of sleep, exhaustion taking over your weak body the second your head hit the pillow. She simply hummed at your response before she pushed herself off the bed. You assumed this was here obeying, silently leaving because she assumed you were already fast asleep, however the girl was kicking off her shoes instead, leaving her only in her sweatpants and her t-shirt before she promptly crawled in next to you in your bed.

You whine softly, but still let her tug you closer. Her strong hands are like ice on your warm thigh, tugging it over her leg and pressing your body against hers. She’s so warm, and you can’t help but push your cold hands under her shirt, pressing against her warm stomach. She chuckles softly as it makes her shiver, keeping you close regardless.

“Might as well stay since I’m here now, yeah?” She hums out softly, earning only a weak hum from you in response.

Ellie isn’t sure if she’s ever seen anyone fall asleep so quickly, soft snores leaving your lips again as she holds you close, rubbing small shapes into your back as she simply lays there, holding you in your bed.

It makes her heart ache when she realizes this is the first time she’s back here with you since you asked her what you were to her that one night. It makes her wonder how much things would’ve changed up until now if she’d told you the truth, told you just how much she wanted you to be hers and only hers, dropping the stupid act of being single and being free for you would’ve been much smarter than what she did instead.

Seeing you sick, in bed and all alone made Ellie feel like she’d failed you, not only as someone who was madly in love with you, but as your friend. What kind of friend ignored the signs, forcing you to take care of yourself when you felt so poorly.

Watching you lay there, sleeping soundly as you so deserved in her arms made Ellie’s heart burst with a feeling she knew she’d had for you for such a long time, since she’d met you really. Taking care of you felt even better.

So that’s exactly what she was gonna do.

Ellie doesn’t leave your side the entire time she’s there with you.

Which is about three days. You were already coming to the end of your cold when she had found you, and while it felt worse than when you first got sick, the end was near.

Your heart would flutter every time Ellie would wake you up for your medicine, or gently tug you out of bed for a warm bath, she’d even managed to run down to your favorite cafe for a bowl of soup in record breaking time to make sure you were getting something good to eat. She did everything in her power to nurse you back to health, never once agreeing with your many pleas to leave you there alone before you got her sick.

When you finally stopped asking her to leave you, you were left with the plaguing thoughts that you tried getting rid of, the ones filled with Ellie denying your question, denying you of the answer you wanted so badly when you asked her what you were to her. It made no sense to you, someone that used your body at their disposal, caring so much for your health and your wellbeing, you truly couldn’t outweigh the reasons as to why Ellie was suddenly here, when she wasn’t before.

It didn’t take long for your fever to break completely, and for the cough to subside to something that happened only once in a while rather than every minute or so. It was finally starting to look up for you.

Which meant Ellie had to leave soon.

You were sat up in your bed while Ellie was in your kitchen, washing up some of the dishes from when you and her had eaten together, a permanent frown on your lips as you toyed with the blanket draped over your legs.

Ellie returned, a soft smile on her face as she watched the way you were sat up, looking far more alert than a few days prior.

“You’re looking so much better, baby…that’s good to see” she hummed out as she moved to crawl into bed with you, taking her usual spot. She leaned in, wanting to press a kiss to your neck, she lets out a soft huff when you try to pull away.

“Hm? What’s the matter? I already told you I don’t care if I get sick…” you can hear the smirk in her voice as she leans in again, this time aiming for the corner of your lips.

You just couldn’t take it anymore.

You pressed your hand to her chest, finally looking into her eyes. She can tell by the look on your face that this is much more than you fussing over her getting sick.

“I can’t…what is this Ellie? I appreciate you taking care of me and helping me get better but…” your words trail off, a soft pout on your lips as you struggle with the words you want to say before you let out a gentle sigh, eyes dropping from Ellie’s, looking down at your lap instead.

“This feels too intimate…the kissing…the way touch me…” you explain, your voice falling to nothing but a small, hoarse sound.

“I want to respect what you said about us…but you’re making it really hard when you treat me like I’m your girlfriend” you sigh out, hating that you even had to explain any of this to Ellie in the first place.

She’s frowning at this point, eyebrows furrowed as she eyes you carefully. It feels like you’re practically twisting the knife that had been lodged into her heart from the moment you asked her what you were to her. She ignorantly wished you two could just ignore it all, let it blow over while she pretended she could have you in the way she wanted, all while hurting you at the same time.

“I think we just…shouldn’t do these things anymore…the kissing, the fucking….” Your words are shaky, and Ellie can hear that you’re at the brink of tears without even seeing your face.

And she knows this is it, she’s lost her chance.

You finally look up at her, your eyes red and filled with tears threatening to spill out onto your soft cheeks.

“I’m sorry…I appreciate you coming here and helping me but I can’t-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips on yours. Both of her hands are cupping your face as she gives you a kiss so filled with passion, it’s nearly enough to make you whine. But as good as her lips feel, you’re quick to push her off.

“Ellie no! I told you, you’ll get sick” you complain, your hands wrapped around both of her wrists as you pull them away from your face.

A moment passes as she simply stares into your eyes, a pleading looking written on her face as if she’s silently begging you to hear her, to understand what she wants to convey all without saying a single word in the process.

But you don’t.

“I’m not like you, Ellie…I get attached, and I want more with you…more than you want with me and it just won’t-“ it’s the second time she’s cutting you off for the night, this time she speaks.

“And I love that!” she blurts out finally, her voice cracking with the amount of emotions that filled her up, from simply staring into your eyes.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you eye the girl closely, shaking your head as you try to understand. “But you said….” Your words trail off, because even recalling the words she’d said to you that night hurts.

Ellie sighs softly before she shakes her head. “I know what I said…and I’m an idiot for it” she groans out, knowing deep down this would always have been the outcome of her actions, whether she wanted it or not.

She reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before her hand dropped down to cup your cheek gently.

“I’ve wanted you…since the moment I laid eyes on you” she breaths out. You can practically hear the relief it brings her, just from admitting it to you. Ellie feels as though the weight of the world is lifted off of her shoulders when the words fall from the tip of her tongue.

You simply stare at her, eyes wide and eager to hear more, practically begging her to go on.

Her pink tongue darts from her behind her lips, thumb stroking your cheek gently before she continued to speak. “I felt like when we started doing this…it would be my ticket to finally telling you how much I love you…clearly I’m too much of a coward for that” she chuckles out, only half joking as the bitter words fall into the air of your room.

The moment of silence that falls between the two of you feels like an eternity, it feels too long since you’ve said something and it makes Ellie feel sick. She didn’t know what she was hoping for when she told you, it whatever was happening was far from it.

And so, she begins to panic.

“I’m sorry I ever said those things to you. I just didn’t know what to say when you asked and I panicked and it just-“ it’s your turn to cut her off, leaning in and pressing your lips to hers to shut her up. It makes Ellie melt as soon as you do, a soft whine leaving her lips as one of her hands falls down to your waist, wanting you as close as possible.

Your lips work against hers for a moment before you finally pull apart, a soft smile on your lips as you stare into her eyes.

“So you love me, hm?” You tease her, and it makes Ellie whine as she falls back to lay against your pillow, tugging you down with her by your waist as she pulls you to straddle her lower body.

“That’s all you gathered? Here I am confessing my undying love and apologizing at the same time and all you get is one thing” she smirks as she stares up at you, her hands caressing your bare thighs.

“You’re lucky I’m used to your idiotic tendencies…I don’t think anyone would deal with this behavior” you hear her again with a fake pout, which earns a fake groan from her end before she gives your thighs a firm squeeze.

“Good thing it’s you then, hm?” She mumbles out softly, making you giggle before you bend down to attach your lips to hers, wanting nothing more than to enjoy the girl now that feelings had been confessed.

After a moment of your lips against hers, you hear Ellie groan, which makes you frown as you pull away. “Everything okay baby?” You ask softly, only to see that Ellie is pouting childish up at you.

“My throat kinda hurts…”

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer breaks your deal with Alastor

・❥ Your soul is owned by Alastor, and Lucifer is not pleased about it.

x: OVER 20k words!? strap in ya’ll, it’s a roller coaster.

xx: reader is g/n. no use of y/n. if you want to read it in chapter-form, you can read it over on my ao3 here.

warnings: adult themes, abuse, angst

‘Alright, deep breaths. You’ve got this. You’ve practiced this so much it’s a cakewalk, so just take it easy. You’ll rock it, like always.’

“Oi! Welcome to the show, ya dirty sinners! Didn’t think ya’d see me all the way up here, did’ja?!”

Screams and cheers echoed from the seats below, as the voice of the King of Greed boomed from the loudspeakers. 

"Well, listen up, ya pitiful souls! I've got a craving for some more cash, so I've decided to bring the whole shebang right here to the heart of sin, Pentagram City!"

The cheering erupted once more, the spotlights danced across the sandy pit underneath the large circus tent. On the perimeter were rows and rows of stands, packed with demons nestled against each other.

It was Mammon’s first circus show in the Pride Ring, a very rare sight to see him leave his cozy little ring in general. But, when a good portion of your fans are sinners who can’t leave without being incinerated, then you have to receive them on their home turf.

In the large pit, two lions jumped obediently through hoops, their handlers shouting commands and cracking their whips to further spur the cat’s maneuvers.

Bright green flame danced around the lion’s faces, resembling that of a large mane. Their eyes were soulless, black pits that glimmered in the bright lights as they continued maneuvers through the tight obstacles.

On the edges of the pit, support poles towered above the crowd. Thin wires snaked across them, anchored to large platforms that hung in the air from the pole’s side.

“As ya can see, we’ve got a big show tah’night! Lots of great fuckin’ acts for ya mongrels to eat up. But, before we get to the juicy bits, direct your eyes up to the ceiling to get a look at our first performance!” 

Hundreds of gazes lifted to sky, the spotlights below beaming upward towards a platform at one end of the tent.

Bright, white lights hit your vision, and you squinted your eyes to prevent them from burning to a crisp from the focused beams.

You stood, your bare feet planted firmly against the platform’s white surface. Before you, a tightrope connected your place to another platform in the distance, beckoning you.

A small hoop hung from the ceiling, encircling a small portion of the wire. The trick was that it was too small for you to stand up straight while walking through it, so you’d need to limbo underneath it.

"As you can see, we've got some sorry sap up there that is about to practically walk on thin air! See that hoop over there? They're fixin' to stroll right through it."

Small ooh’s and ahh’s emanated from the crowd, their eyes darting from you to the hoop.

"But hold your horses, folks! That ain't your run-of-the-mill hoop, no sir! That, my friends, is a hoop on fuckin’ fire!!”

Suddenly, the hoop ignited in a burst of green flames, illuminating the area before you. Gulping, you took another deep breath, steadying yourself.

Okay, well, you knew that was gonna happen. You’ve just never actually practiced with the hoop on fire, but it shouldn’t be too hard.. right?

You nodded to yourself, assuring your racing thoughts that everything was gonna be alright.

The skin-tight suit you were wearing sparkled in the spotlight, dazzling the spectators with a red gleam as you hovered right over the edge of the platform, waving to the crowd. 

You had been performing ever since you could remember, and this was just another part of the job. You weren’t a part of Mammon’s original crew though, only being given the opportunity when they arrived at Pentagram City.

You were a Sinner, which meant being confined to the Pride Ring just like the rest. Fortunately, one of Mammon’s acrobats was too sickly to perform, so when you saw the large poster detailing auditions, you jumped at the opportunity to make some extra bucks.

You had arrived at the settled convoy of vehicles and trailers at the outskirts of the city, you were ecstatic. You hadn’t performed in an actual circus in forever, and the make-shift village of performers and equipment was a fresh sight.

Mammon himself was a… colorful character. He was a hard party rocker with a big ego, and most likely had a swear jar at home overflowing with pennies, with how that guy talked.

You hadn’t really met him when you auditioned, but you could definitely hear him. He was loud, practically demanding everyone’s attention even when he wasn’t addressing them. 

You could hear him yelling about an absent performer, annoyance evident in his voice as he berated an assistant.

"What do ya mean he couldn't make it to practice 'cause he lost his voice? He's a bloody mime, mate! What the hell are we payin’ these blokes for!?"

When you had performed for the recruiters—which you were surprised to find wasn’t Mammon, since the guy seemed to stick his nose in everything—you displayed to them your . A few somersaults, a bit of ariel silk action, and the classic, juggling. 

“How good is your balance?” One of them had questioned, their pen tapping softly against the wooden desk, as they considered your skills.

“Good enough, I suppose.” You replied truthfully.

Long story short, you got the gig. Although, when you heard they wanted you to tightrope under a hoop, that was a little surprising. 

Good thing you weren’t afraid of heights, or this would have been a nightmare.

Backing away from the edge, your gaze rested on the hoop aflame in front of you. After Mammon would finish speaking, you’d begin your act.

"But that ain't the only thing heating up tonight, folks."

Wait, what did he mean by that?

“‘Cause the tightrope… is also on fire!!!” 

What?!

The crowd went berserk hearing that. They whooped and hollered, as their twisted little fantasies came true before their eyes.

“Oh, god damnit, Mammon!” You muttered.

When you told them you had a pretty good pain tolerance, that did not mean resistance to fire!

You sighed, it was a little too late to back out now. Plus, you needed the money. Bouncing on your toes, you attempted to hype yourself up.

Exhaling a large breath, your foot lifted from the stand, and slowly reached out towards the tightrope. 

‘Fuck, this is going to hurt.’ you groaned internally, your toe just inches from the wire. You could feel the heat of the fire as it hungrily licked at your feet. 

Right as you were about to place yourself onto the wire, you felt something tugging at the back of your collar. 

It was deathly cold, and you tried to pull away from its touch, but whatever was holding you had a strong grip. A thick green fog-like substance pooled at your feet, and you looked down in confusion as it began to circle around your figure.

You felt the force on your collar harshly pull you backwards, and your feet lifted from the ground. The smoke became so thick in front of you, it was only the bright lights from the spotlights below that gave you any visual. Suddenly, large eyes began to dot your vision, staring directly at you, into your hollow being.

“What the fu-”

Darkness suddenly covered your vision, and you felt like you were floating in mid-air. Though, you couldn’t tell where exactly in the air you were, other than the fact the surface below you had completely vanished.

You tried to peel your eyes open, but whatever had thrusted you into this chilling realm would not let you get a glimpse of your surroundings. It wasn’t until you felt your feet hit firm ground, and a much less intense light hit your eyelids. You opened them slowly, your mouth still partially open.

“-ckkkk?” You finished, your eyes darting from one side of the mysterious room to the other. It looked strange.. to say the least. It was old, a little run down. It screamed tacky. 

You observed the room again, trying to find anything familiar that could gauge your location.

Were you in a hotel lobby? But, why? How? You’ve never been here before, nor did you know anyone who stayed at such a dump.

“Ah, there you are, my friend! What a pleasure to see you!”

You pivoted sharply to face behind you, and your eyes widened in shock at the familiar face.

Standing before you, a large toothy-grin plastered across his face, was Alastor. The owner of your soul, your eternal boss, the Radio Demon, and the butt end of most of your unfunny jokes—which you would never dare say in front of him.

“You!”

Your finger lifted, pointing accusingly at the tall, red demon. He only tilted his head amusingly at you, that smile only growing wider as you frowned.

“Yes, it is I. I’m glad you remember my face, how are you today?” 

“What do you want?” You grumbled, ignoring his question. You crossed your arms before taking a step back. There were others behind him, but it was Alastor you were focused on as you waited for his response.

“Oh, just some charity work. My new friends over here are in need of some more helping hands, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services!” 

He motioned to the others behind him, and you glanced at the strangers. One of them was a woman with long, platinum-blonde hair, who smiled awkwardly at you with a wave. 

“That’s great!” You replied sarcastically, throwing your hands up in exasperation, “but couldn’t you wait until after my gig? I was about to make some good money!”

Alastor only sidled up to you, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his cheek as if you two were best friends. You wanted to recoil from his touch, but you knew you’d get nothing good out of that action. 

“Oh, I am terribly sorry about that, my friend. But, we do have an agreement, as I'm sure you are well aware. Which means, for the time being, you’ll be living here at the hotel!”

Of course you were aware of the “agreement”, the guy had your soul! 

“What hotel?”

“The Hazbin Hotel! What do you think about the name, hm? I came up with it myself!” 

“It’s kind of lame.” 

“Oh-ho! You are such a charm, my dear! I can always count on you to liven up the room with your jokes.”

You sighed, uncrossing your arms and lowering them to your sides in defeat. You were stuck here, with Alastor, until he no longer needed your presence. As always.

“I still would have appreciated a call beforehand or something.” 

“Take my arrival back in the city as the call, my friend. My return was no doubt discussed by many. You knew I’d acquire your assistance at some point.”

Yes, that’s right. Alastor had been gone a good, what, seven years? It was strange, how he had just disappeared without a word or any kind of clue to his location. Where had he gone? Why was he being so secretive about it?

You didn’t miss him, of course. His absence was a mini vacation for you, a break from endless favors that he deemed you worthy to complete. What a joke.

“Now, why don’t we go and introduce you to all these fantastic fellows, hm?” He spoke, a command deep in his static-laced tone.

You turned back towards the small group of demons, who stood a few feet away silently as the two of you bickered. Standing slightly away from the rest, was a familiar furry face. Husker. He was here too? 

Nudging you forward with his cane, you walked up to the onlookers, who regarded you with a mixed expression. The shorter gray lady stood glaring at you with suspicion, her eyes darting between you and Alastor.

Beside her, was that pretty pale-faced demon in the red tuxedo. She smiled broadly at you, her eyes practically gleaming in excitement at seeing the multiple new faces.

“Hello! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! I'm so glad to have you aboard!” 

“..Hi, it’s good to meet you too.”

“Let me introduce you to our crew! Over there is my girlfriend, Vaggie!”

She motioned towards the shorter gray woman, and you looked at her more carefully. She had an X across her eye, barely visible with the long hair she situated across half her face. She still eyed you with suspicion, but her demeanor had softened as Charlie spoke to you.

“And, over there is Angel Dust, our first resident of the hotel!”

“How ya doing, Sugar?” Angel winked at you, as he leaned against the bar counter. Husk stood behind the counter, a thin line on his lips.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with Husker and Niffty, right?” 

You nodded, your gaze meeting Husk’s. His eyes softened just a teeny bit, before he let out a hmph and turned away towards the shelves of bottles against the wall.

Your attention turned back to Charlie, as she began filling you in with the details about the hotel and her plans.

She seemed like a sweet girl, passionate and imaginative. When she described her dreams to you, for the hotel, for the entirety of Hell, you listened carefully.

Sinners.. being redeemed? Going to Heaven? That seemed too good to be true. Unbelievable, almost. Sure, some of the demons down here weren’t too bad, but surely none of them were good enough to actually climb to the pearly gates. 

Charlie seemed… different from other dreamers, though, like she could actually get it to work. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what made you think so. Maybe it was because she was the princess of Hell, and was the second highest on the food chain of this damned place.

You were lucky with how down-to-earth she was, or your bluntness would have probably gotten you smited by now.

In comparison to Charlie, you were a nobody. Well, you were nobody in general. You didn’t own anything of value, not even your soul.

Charlie didn’t act like a princess though. Such as how she spoke to you, and her friends. No command in her tone, no true motives behind layers of smiles and sweetly spoken lies. 

If she was the owner of your soul, maybe life wouldn’t be so bad. She treated everyone fairly, without judgment of who they used to be. Only dreaming of who they could be.

Was the King of Hell the same? How much did Charlie mirror her father, anyway? 

“So.. what can you do?” Charlie broke you from your thoughts, she was turned to you, her gaze meeting yours intently as she waited for you to respond.

“Well, I'm a performer! Mostly aerobatics, but I can dance and other tricks. Oh! I’m also a crowd-pleaser, i’m a really smooth talker.”  

“That’s ssooooo cool! You do that kind of stuff, like, in the circus?”

“Mostly, yes. Any odd jobs I can find looking for my skill set, really. I’m not picky when it comes to money.”

Charlie contemplated your words for a moment, her eyes darting. She’s already got a bartender and a cleaning lady, but where to put you…

“I’m also fantastic at pick-pocketing.” You grinned pridefully at her. It was something you were very good at, and that you had continued to perfect during your time in Hell.

It was also what led you to make that wretched deal with Alastor. 

“Oh.. um, let’s stick with your other skills, hm?” Charlie smiled awkwardly, before she turned her head, and her eyes landed on an empty desk situated near the large entrance doors. 

She perked, her eyes widening in glee as she spun around towards you. 

“That’s it! You can be our new receptionist! You’ll answer calls and greet all our newcomers, and you’ll be in charge of making sure all our guests are well taken care of during their stay.”

Your smile faltered, your gaze resting on the desk behind Charlie before meeting her eyes once more. You chuckled like she had just told you a good joke. Except when your eyes met hers again, she only smiled at you in anticipation.

Wait, was she serious?

“I’m sorry,” you started, lifting your hands up and shaking your head, “but that is not something i’m good at nor-“

“Well I think it’s a splendid idea!” Alastor appeared besides you, his hand resting on your shoulder. His claws dug slightly into your suit, and you whipped your head up, eyeing him with animosity. 

His eyes were squinted, a glare behind that wide grin. ‘Stay in line, or else.’ was his silent command. You scrunched up your nose, ready to argue, but the intellectual part of your brain smacked you upside the head. 

Your shoulders drooped, that frown deepening before you turned to Alastor. You pulled your shoulder from his grip, and looked at Charlie. 

“Fine.”

And, that’s how it was for a time. 

There wasn’t much to do, in all honesty. As the months ticked by, you sat at that desk drowning in boredom. The people at the hotel were lively, but the job? Not so much.

While Alastor was the face, you were the paperwork. Although, he barely acted like it, which meant you took most of the work. 

There were barely any phone calls, any new visitors, anything new at all really. So, you instead filled your days with walking around the hotel, observing the rooms of any renovations that Alastor could make, or you’d write shopping lists for groceries and other miniscule items for the crew, and going out yourself to shop. 

There was that one demon, the snake inventor, that had become a resident during your time working. You had been there, when he attacked Alastor on the hotel’s doorstep. Your mouth agape as you watched him tear a piece of your boss’s suit, waiting for the snake to meet his death.

He didn’t, surprisingly. Instead, he had arrived not too long after apologizing. Which was shocking, and.. eye opening. 

Could Charlie’s dream come true? Alastor spoke of it as if it would turn into nothing but a failure. You had believed him, but now, that doubt was fading from your mind.

Could.. there be a chance for you too? 

You had mentally slapped yourself for that thought. You, redeemed? With no soul, you were trapped here. Only ever being able to watch from the sidelines as those more worthy ascended. 

Thoughts like that only came when you had drank a little too much. Finger mindlessly circling the rim of your wine glass, brow furrowed as you lamented over your poor decisions, you’d sit at the bar in silence late at night.

Nobody bothered you during those times, not even Alastor. No one saw the way your lip began to quiver, the way your vision blurred with tears.

No one noticed the surface of your drink disturbed with a droplet of salty sadness as it mixed with the bitter alcohol. 

‘You don’t deserve to feel sorry for yourself,’ you’d think bitterly, soaked anger spilling down your cheeks, ‘you damned yourself to eternal suffering the moment you shook that demon’s hand.’

Taking the glass, you’d lift it to your lips and empty the rest of the contents. That salty tang still hanging on your tongue when you set the glass back down.

On the worst nights, you’d simply rest your head against the countertop. The cool surface refreshing to your warm cheek, as you curled into yourself, and drifted into a restless sleep.

When you’d wake a few hours later, your blood-shot, tired eyes would open to the sight of a glass of ice-cold water and a migraine pill sitting a few feet away from your face. 

You never saw who catered to your hungover needs, but you had an inkling of a guess.

Lifting your head, you’d blink away the morning fog before sitting up straight with a groan. Slowly, you’d reach out and grab the small capsule and the water, before swallowing both in one large gulp.

Then, it was back to work as always.

Sometimes, you’d actually that phone on your desk would brnnnggg loudly, and you’d leap out of your chair to have a conversation with a fresh new voice. 

“You guys at least provide free Hash, right?” The masculine voice on the other end questioned.

“Sir, this a hotel meant for redemption. Y’know, to Heaven? We don’t have any paraphernalia here.” You grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you listened to the guy.

“Wait.. so you’re saying Heaven doesn’t have joints?”

“I’ve never been up there, obviously. Though I'm sure drugs are a big no-no up there.” 

“Then what the fuck is the point of wanting to go up there?! No weed? No sex toys? Fuck Heaven! Fuck you and your stupid little hotel!” 

“Choke on dick and die!” You snarled, slamming the phone back into place. You leaned back in the chair, fuming silently. The calls never ended well. 

“Good job, you’re really pulling in all those potential residents.” A sarcastic voice piped up near you.

Your head snapped to the bar across the room, your gaze resting on the black and white feline who was busy cleaning glasses on the counter. 

Standing from your spot, you stroll over to the bar, before nestling into one of the bar stools. Placing a hand under your chin, you rested your elbow against the shiny countertop.

“Pour an old friend a drink, won’t you Husk?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. 

His soul was owned by Alastor too, and even if you didn’t know the guy too well, you felt a kinship with him. You both were hollow beings, now.

“We ain’t friends,” the demon grumbled, “I'm just stuck with you and Niffty until I kick the bucket.”

“Okay, Mr. Grumpy-Pants.” You laughed as he reached for your go-to bottle. Same old, adorably-cross Husker. 

He was getting better, though. Happier, even. The night he disappeared to go retrieve Angel Dust, he came back with a bounce in his step. Seemingly more at peace, with whatever happened between the two away from prying eyes.

Once, you swore you heard him humming some old, happy tune while he organized the liquor bottles on the shelf. Husk.. singing? That was something you thought you’d never see.

He had a very good poker face, and half the time you couldn’t tell if the kitty even liked you. He always regarded you like he was behind a closed, see-through door. Getting close to you just enough to see and speak to you, but never enough you could actually reach out and use him for support. Hopefully, he was getting better with that too.

Maybe, with how things were going, he’d let you scratch his chin one day. You always wanted to try it, see if he purred just like they did back on Earth.

“What do you think about the hotel?”  You asked him, as he popped the cap off the bottle with his claw, and began pouring a glass in front of your seat.

“It ain’t too bad,” Husk replied truthfully, “But, it could be better.”

“I agree, I was having a pretty good time out on my own before this. Guess we’ll just have to get used to it, I’m not sure how long Alastor plans to keep us here.”

“You don’t know?” 

You raised an eyebrow at the feline, as you took a sip of your drink. “No, I don’t. Why would you think I do?” 

“Well, I just assumed the two of you would discuss those kind things.”

“You think I talk to Alastor about his deceitful plans with this place?” 

“Why wouldn’t you? I mean, you two are practically the same, with your silver-tongue and all.”

You leaned back, a mixture of surprise and disgust on your face at his words. Husk thought you and Alastor were like, what, best buddies? The demon that owned your soul?

“That’s a fucking lie,” You growled, glaring at him, “I’m not like that douchebag at all. Just because I’m good at talking my way out of tough shit, doesn’t mean I use them to manipulate people into making magical deals that fuck up their entire existence.” 

Using your feet, you pushed your chair back forcefully. It scraped harshly against the wooden floor, as you stood up from the stool. You didn’t even glance at Husk as you sharply turned away, and stomped across the room.

“Thanks for the drink, Asshole.” You called as you turned the corner into a long hallway, towards your room.

You didn’t speak to Husker for a while after that, or go to the bar. Instead, you worked and kept to yourself in your room. It wasn’t until you walked into the lobby one early morning, did you see the feline.

He was standing with the rest of the crew, concern etched across their faces as they circled around a mumbling, erratic Charlie Morningstar. 

“Why isn’t the hotel working?!” You could hear her fume, as she fussed over a large tack board filled with drawings and pictures. 

It wasn’t until about a half an hour later, when Charlie had hung up the phone with her father, did you realize the day was going to get much stranger.

“Alright, guys! My dad is going to be here in one hour, so we have to make this place perfect!” She said, a nervous smile on her lips as she addressed the small crowd.

Everyone tensed, their eyes darting to each other at her words.

Charlie’s dad was coming? Lucifer Morningstar? The King of Hell?!

Suddenly, the room bursted into action. Sir. Pentious slithered to the kitchen, claiming he needed to bake sweets for Lucifer’s arrival. Charlie was practically hyperventilating as Vaggie rubbed her shoulder soothingly. 

“Aw man, I gotta go put on my new perfume!” Angel Dust yelled from the chaos, as he sped away towards his room. Husk continued wiping down the bar countertop, but a little more feverishly now. 

Alastor was the only one seemingly unchanged by the news of the king’s arrival. He only stood there grinning, as the others rushed around him, before beginning to push back his cuticles.

“I’m just going to go… put on some better clothes.” You called, unsure if anyone was even listening as they scrambled about. 

You quickly left the lobby, running to your room to clean yourself up and look presentable. Your mind raced as you did so, recalling all the rumors and gossip you’ve heard over the years.

Was he a cruel king? He couldn’t be, not with how Charlie turned out. But, with her reaction to asking for his help… that was strange. She had never spoken of him before, so it didn’t seem like they were that close.

What was he going to think of you? You’ve never stood before such an important figure, other than Charlie, but that was wayyy different than speaking to the most powerful man in the realm.

You’d just have to make him like you, to avoid any trouble. You needed to charm the King of Hell, just like you’ve done successfully with so many others.

You adjusted your appearance in the mirror, before nodding your head in self-approval. You crossed your room, pulling open the door, and making your way down the stairs. 

When you returned to the lobby, everyone was making last minute preparations. 

Sir. Pentious was busy tidying the cookies on the cooking sheet in front of him. Angel Dust was finishing hanging up the balloons around the room, while Charlie was hyping herself up in the corner.

A large banner with a handwritten message ‘It’s A Boy!’ hung from the ceiling, and you shook your head in embarrassment with a smile.

When you had made it back to the group, there was barely any time to talk before you heard a knock at the front door.

Everyone froze, and Charlie exhaled a large breath of nerves, before crossing the distance towards the door. She pulled it open, and a white hat poked from over her shoulder.

“Charlie!” 

You heard him before you saw him, and he sounded like a burst of sunshine as you watched Charlie get pulled into his bear hug.

She sputtered against his tight grip, before he finally released her. You could see the wide brim hat poking out of her figure, see that silly apple that stuck out from the top of his cane, as they talked for a few more moments.

It wasn’t until Charlie turned to face you and the rest of the crew, did you see Lucifer Morningstar’s face. Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you drank in his figure.

Fuck. He was gorgeous. 

He definitely presented himself like a king, with how he stood with his back straight and head held high. He rested slightly against his cane, his interest piqued at the new faces.

As his gaze swept across the lobby, it briefly landed on you, and your heart fluttered in your chest. God, his eyes were so pretty. They were a soft, muted yellow, like buttercream. 

They held many emotions too, you could see it. There was deep sadness that never left his gaze, as if it followed him like a shadow. It was something you felt followed you too. What was his story? 

Your eyes traced the rest of his appearance, landing next on the golden strands nestled under his hat.

That platinum-blonde hair practically glowed underneath the chandelier lighting, as it curled delicately around his face. It looked so smooth and silky, like the guy had a 10-step hair care routine. It probably smelled amazing too. 

And, those cute little rosy cheek spots on the sides of his mouth, that stood out from his pale skin. If you tilted your head just right, you’d say he looked just like a cockatiel.

But, it was his smile that enraptured you. Not the fake one, that wide, awkward mess across his lips he did as a way to appeal to Charlie.

No, it was instead that warm, genuine grin that lit up his entire face, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. The smile that only appeared during tender moments, like when his daughter rubbed her cheek against his affectionately. 

You hoped he would start to smile like that more often. 

Charlie had approached your group, introducing Lucifer slowly through your companions. Your heartbeat quickened as they made their way closer to you. 

Taking a deep breath, you clasped your hands together, smiling warmingly at the duo approaching. Charlie stopped, turning to her father as she began to introduce you.

“And thisss is our receptionist! They’re in charge of handling most of our inbound and outbound affairs, and in helping us capture potential residents too!” 

“And I'm doing a fantastic job at that, by the way.” You declared to the two, that smile of yours widening as you edged closer to them. You lifted your arm, extending a hand towards the fallen angel.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” 

God, could this dude get any more perfect? The closer he got, the warmer you felt your body temperature become, like he was practically the sun itself.

He regarded it for a moment, before hesitantly taking your grip. His hands were soft, but firm. The gold band on his pinkie grazed across your finger, it was cool to the touch, giving you much needed relief to the growing intensity of the heat of his grasp.

His eyes traveled up yours once more, to your eyes as they flickered between your batting lashes, and to your pretty smile that only grew wider as you leaned forward.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He spoke softly with a grin, as he looked you over. His voice was like silk, and you wanted to wrap it around yourself like a sheet. 

A stark difference to Alastor’s, who gave you a headache listening to that static overlay every time the guy opened his mouth.

“This is your first time here, right?”

“Yes, I'm just here to give my daughter the support she needs for her little project.” Lucifer nodded, glancing over to Charlie as he spoke.

“Well, I hope your opinion of the hotel has improved now that you’ve seen it in person.” 

“Oh, believe me, it has.” He assured, that nervous grin disappearing from his face, and you could see a playful smirk slowly blooming on his lips.

That was before his eyes landed on the bar at the other end of the room, his hand left yours as he turned to face it. You pulled your arm back, clenching your hand as his warmth faded from your skin.

“What in the unholy Hell is that?”

You stood up straight, as he walked closer to the bar. Only for Alastor to appear right behind him, a deadly grin on his lips as he strutted forward.

“Just some renovations we’ve had done, adds a little bit of color! Don’t you think?”

You sighed, your lips twisting into a slight frown as you watched the tension in the room escalate with every word Lucifer and Alastor exchanged. It wasn't until Charlie sidled up beside her father, that the drama got good.

“I guess that’s why they call it the Has-Been Hotel, eh?” Lucifer grinned, nudging Charlie with his elbow.

You snorted, your hand coming up to cusp your mouth at the sudden outburst. His dad joke was just so hilariously stupid—not to mention, it was pointed at Alastor, which was bonus points—you couldn’t contain the noise you made.

All eyes turned to you, and you felt sweat beading at your forehead from all the sudden attention.

Alastor still had that large toothy grin, but his eyes were squinted in a glare as his head snapped uneasily towards you. 

It was Lucifer’s gaze that captured your attention, though. He turned in surprise, as if shocked someone actually laughed at his joke. It wasn’t until he saw that the person that laughed was you, did he seem to slightly puff out his chest, a prideful grin dancing on his lips.

Heat flooded your cheeks as he sent you a mischievous wink, before his attention turned back to Alastor as the demon laughed2.

“Yes, Ha-Ha. It was actually my idea, though.” 

“Ha-Ha, well, it’s not very clever!” 

“A-Ha! Fuck you.”

You had stood to the side, as the two demons bickered and fought for Charlie’s attention. The insecurities of both became increasingly obvious to you as time went on.

Alastor, with his uneasiness that someone of much higher stature and power could take his role in the hotel. And, Lucifer, who’s relationship with his daughter was sour enough that the idea of someone replacing his role as a father caused him to short circuit.

Then, when a short, rotund woman bursted through the front doors, dressed like a flapper and fawning over Alastor, you realized even more how today was looking to be a really strange day.

Mimzy, an old friend of Alastor’s from when they were both swinging through the 20’s and 30’s back on Earth. 

You didn’t know her very well, other than she never stopped talking, and in your opinion, had an ego bigger than Alastor’s. But, you’ve been around long enough to know that whenever she came around, it was only to beg Alastor for help when she fucked up.

Your opinion of her only worsened when the wall a few feet away from you blew open less than ten minutes later. 

The chaos that ensued was even worse, as bullets began ripping through the walls of the hotel. Loan Sharks, snarling Mimzy’s name with venom, threw another explosive towards the building. 

When Alastor had suddenly arrived, shifting into his demonic form, you breathed a sigh of relief as he began to decimate the little army outside.

One of them was falling right above your head, and you tried to scramble away. 

Before it could turn you into a stain on the carpet, it suddenly jerked away, smashing into the closest wall instead. Gold sparks faded from around its wooden frame, and you turned your head to see Lucifer at the other end of the room with Charlie, his eyes trailing your form as you beelined for the opposite wall.

Another explosion rocked the lobby again, and you stumbled on your feet. A table skidded quickly across the floor, heading right for you.

The adrenaline pumping through your veins sent your body into overdrive, and you swiftly lean down, lowering your hands to meet the floor. With a powerful push, you launch yourself into a graceful somersault, your body arching elegantly over the crashing obstacle. Time seems to stretch as you execute the maneuver with precision, feeling the rush of wind against your skin as you spin through the air. Your back barely grazing the table’s surface before you landed into a roll. 

You shoot up from the ground, heart racing, a dumbstruck smile blooming across your lips at the realization you were still in one piece.

You were too preoccupied with Sir. Pentious barreling into your side; that you missed the pale face mirroring your  expression, as he watched you clear the table. 

By the time you untangled yourself from the snake demon, the dust had begun to settle in the room. Alastor had killed—or eaten—most of the Loan Sharks, and was now standing on the front lawn, cleaning bits of meat from underneath his nails.

Husk lifted his head slowly from behind the bar, eyes scanning the perimeter for danger. Mimzy crawled out from under the bar stools, before scurrying outside to speak with Alastor.

“Jesus, is everyone okay?” Angel Dust called, while Charlie was helping dust off stray pieces of rubble from Vaggie’s hair.

“HELPPPP!” Came the loud, mousy squeal from above your head. Eyes lifting to the ceiling, you see Niffty clutching a support beam with her life.

“Niffty? How the fuck did’ya get up there?!” Angel Dust yelled back, arms thrown in the air in exasperation.

It had partially dislodged from the ceiling, hanging loosely by one end. Niffty poked her head out from the side, her large eye darting across the room, as she waited for someone to come to her aid.

Your gaze traveled down from the support beam, your eyes landing on a water pipe, broken and sticking out from a large crack in the wall. It hung just perfectly in between you and Niffty, which would allow you to reach her quickly.

If you could just get a boost… aha! Your gaze lands on the partially torn couch that was scooted a few feet across the room from the explosions. If you leapt off its back, you could swing from the broken water pipe and use it to catapult yourself right next to Niffty. 

Lucifer analyzed the ceiling before turning to his daughter, smirking as he slowly lifted his cane.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got thi-“ 

“Hang on, Niff! I’m coming!” Your voice rang through the room, your footsteps echoing as you ran towards the damaged furniture. 

Taking a large leap, your feet hit the backrest of the couch. The muscles in your legs tense as you lower yourself slightly to vault forward and up, your arms shooting above your head as you close in on the pole.

Your fingers wrap around its chilling, metal surface; and with your palms snug against its frame, you swing forward, arching your body so your feet begin to lift above your head. 

You release the pole, your legs high in the air as you lift yourself up. You feel the wooden beam graze to the back of your knee pit, and you curl your legs around its base, hanging upside down.

Tensing all the muscles in your abdomen, you use the momentum to swing your legs around the beam and your butt hits the top of its base. You blink, your heart pounding in your chest as you exhale a sigh of relief.

Damn, that felt good. This was so much better than rotting at a desk all day, you really missed your old job. 

Niffty shot up next to you, wrapping her little arms around your forearm in glee.

“You came to rescue me, you’re my hero!” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just hang on, little lady.” 

You pulled her close, before getting to your feet. You lean over the edge, the only thing catching your eyes that you could use was that water pipe.

Okay, you’ve done a bit of parkour before. Piece of cake. 

You knelt slightly, before leaping from the beam. You stuck on foot out in front of you, and you felt your sole hit the top of the pipe. It was like taking a large step, as you swung your other leg forward and launched yourself with the other. 

Curling your legs, you practically cannonball into the couch. The large, plush cushions swallowed you for a moment, before spitting you back onto your feet in front of it.  

“Holy shit, ya didn’t die!” Angel Dust exhaled a sigh of relief, walking up to you. Niffty fussed in your hold, and you gently lowered her to the ground.

Niffty ran to Angel, who kneeled down to fuss over her for any injuries. You turned from the duo, before you caught sight of another figure coming forward.

“You’re an acrobat, aren’t you?” Lucifer said, a hint of astonishment in his tone as he strolled up to you, his eyes gleaming with interest.

“Yes, well, mostly. But I can do a lot of other things too.” You nodded, smiling bashfully at his facial expression.

“Wow! I mean, heh—boy, I haven’t seen anyone do that perfect of a maneuver in a long time. You looked like a ballerina up there with how strict your form was when you were swinging.”

Did Lucifer just.. compliment you? He knew about aerobics enough to make that kind of judgment on you? Man, this guy just kept getting better and better.

It should have been obvious, though. His silly red-and-white attire had struck you as familiar when you first saw him, and now you realized it was similar to the getup of a Ringmaster.

“Thank you, I've been practicing since I was young. I’ve even done a few circus acts before, and it’s always such a thrill. I'd do it over and over again without getting tired.”

“I think that’s called being an adrenaline junkie.” Lucifer teased, a playful smile on his lips. “But, really, that was good. Impressive, even.”

“Not as impressive as saving me from getting crushed by the ceiling.” 

Lucifer’s eyes widened just a tad, and he nervously adjusted his long collar, his smile turning bashful now.

“Oh, you.. you saw that?”

You nodded, “Yes, I did. Thank you. Also, your magic is just so pretty, they’re like little golden fireworks!”

Before Lucifer could speak, you leaned in closer to him. Your ear just barely grazing the brim of his hat as you smiled.

“And, I just wanted to let you know, I agree with you about the hotel name,” you inched closer to his face, your voice lowering as you spoke with a honeyed tone, “I have no doubt you would come up with a better name, Your Highness.” 

Lucifer tensed, and you thought you could see those red spots on his cheek darkening just a shade. 

He lowered his head slightly after that, his face mostly obscured by the brim of his hat. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but, was that an edge of a smile on his lips?

After a second, Lucifer cleared his throat, before lifting his head again.

“I’m glad we share the same appreciation for aesthetics. It’s been a pleasure speaking with you.” 

“Hey, Dad? Can I, um, speak to you? About the hotel?” Charlie spoke, approaching. A firm look on her face, as if it was rather important.

“Of course, I’ll be right there,” Lucifer nodded, before turning back to you, “Again, a pleasure to meet you. I hope we get to talk again.” 

Then, he did something you never expected, he curtsied. Your eyes widened, the King, showing you such a gesture of respect? All for what, doing a few tricks in the air?

Heat creeped onto your cheeks after that, and you watched him turn away, following after his daughter. Leaving you to stew about your encounter with Lucifer for the rest of the day.

Well, your thoughts on the King of Hell definitely stayed when you awoke the next morning, and the morning after that. 

Your thoughts were still there in that lobby as you sat at your desk one afternoon, your hands organizing a large stack of papers. They had a picture of the Hazbin Hotel on them, along with words that basically screamed ‘Come check us out!’

The plan was to distribute the posters around the city.  Buildings, poles, doorways, anything that could hold a staple was your target. 

You were fiddling around in your drawer, searching for extra staples when you heard it. A gentle rapping against the front doors, which made you lift your head.

There was no one else in the lobby, not even Husk. Slowly, you walked towards the doors, and the silhouette of a hat stuck out from the bottom of the stained glass.

Is that..?

Reaching to the handle, you pull it open, and met the familiar soft, yellow gaze. His lips curved into a smile at your appearance, and he lifted his hand in greeting.

“Oh! Hello, again!” 

Fuck, he was still gorgeous. Definitely an Angel, no doubt about that. His pearlescent skin practically glittered in the red hues of the afternoon light behind him, and you averted your gaze for a moment, trying not to be blinded by his ethereal beauty.

“Your highness? I’m—ahem, well, sorry. I’m just surprised to see you back so soon. What are you doing here?”

“I'm here to see Charlie, of course!” He exclaimed, strolling right past you into the lobby. His eyes scanned the room, resting for a moment disapprovingly on the bar, before landing on the large desk. 

“Is this where you work?” He motioned towards its wooden frame, you sidled up to him, before nodding.

“Yep. Hardly move from there during the day.”

“You sit there all day? Yeesh, that’s terrible.” 

“Mhm. Pretty boring, actually.”

“Well, if you ever want a better career, I’m sure I could find you a job at LuLu World, I’ve got a circus that runs year round there.”

LuLu World? The theme park he owned? You had never been there before, but it always sounded amazing. And, he thought you’d be a great fit there too. He couldn’t have been that impressed by a few of your maneuvers. Maybe, he just needed to go to an actual circus and see the real performers.

“I’d love to, but I'm kind of stuck here.”

“Why?” Lucifer turned to you, an eyebrow raised. 

“Well, um—” 

‘My soul is owned by the demon you have beef with, and I can’t exactly leave without his permission. I also can’t tell you this because I apparently signed an NDA too.’

“—I just want to help people! So, I made a promise that I wouldn’t leave until I made a difference. Y’know, really make an effort to improve this wonderful community!” You responded with fake cheer, clasping your hands together.

Lucifer regarded you for a moment, his fingers fidgeting against the apple on his cane as he thought.

“Oh.. well, that’s generous of you. But, someone with your skill set doesn’t deserve to rot away in a place like this, I’m sure you’d make a difference somewhere more relevant.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Your Highness?” You teased, your nails grazing against the desk as you walked past him, before pivoting to face him.

“What? No! Of course not, just—forget I said anything.”  He chuckled nervously, before fussing with his long collar. He seemed to do that often when

Aw, he got all flustered when he thought you were serious. Who knew the embodiment of Pride had such bad self esteem.

“Charlie went out to run some errands, but she should be on her way back, actually. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?”

“Chamomile Tea, if you have it?”

You nodded, before walking towards the small counter behind your desk. There was a coffee machine, a toaster, and a large, electric kettle. You placed the kettle underneath the small sink, filling it up, before switching it on and setting it down. 

It would take a little time for the water to heat, so you returned to where your visitor awaited.

Lucifer leaned against your desk slightly, his fingers mindlessly tapping at his cane, his eyes staring at the wall. There he goes again, lost in his thoughts. Which he seemed to do quite often.

Would it be rude to wake him from his stupor? You had only just met him, so maybe, don’t push your luck.

You turned your attention back onto the stack of posters, flicking through each one as you counted. You heard Lucifer shuffle beside you, before clearing his throat. 

“What are you doing?”

“Posters for the hotel. I’m going to put them up around the city later today.” You held one out to him, and he took it from your grasp. His fingers grazed yours, and you could feel the warmth seeping into your skin from just that small touch.

When he pulled his hand away, that warmth left you, and you felt that never-ending chill seep back into your bones again. It was something that followed you since you made that deal with Alastor. As if your soul was the sun, and you just got shoved down a long, dark well. 

You could only claw at the edges for so long, letting the blood from your nails drip into the standing water at your feet, before you gave up trying. You’ve been sitting in that well for a long time, allowing time to pass by.

But, for some reason, since you arrived at the hotel, you’ve begun to start digging at the cracks of that well again. Maybe, if you got your claws in deep enough, you’d find that beam of sunlight.

“Hm, the drawings seems.. a little off. Did you do this?” Lucifer dragged you out of your thoughts, as he looked at you expectantly. 

Shaking your head, you chuckled softly. “No, unfortunately, stick figures are my only language in the arts. I think Charlie drew it.”

“Did I say this drawing was off? I lied! Ha-ha, yeah, this is great work.” Lucifer quickly replied, brushing off his earlier comment.

You were going to open your mouth to respond, before you heard the loud whistling of the kettle. You turned, watching the steam pour out of its lid, and quickly ran to fetch it.

You pulled a small tea cup from its stand on the edge of the counter, before filling it full with the water from the kettle.

Reaching towards a small cupboard, your fingers sorted through the different herbal flavors as you looked for one in particular. When your eyes finally caught the light green packaging, you pulled it out.

“Hey, this might seem like an odd question, but do you like caramel?” Lucifer asked from behind you. You turned your head slightly, taking a glance at him. His nails clicked against his cane, fast and nervous as he waited.

“Yes, I do. It’s not my favorite sweet treat, but I've definitely indulged in it a few times.”

Taking a few moments as you spoke, you ripped open the package. Holding the small string in between your thumb and your index finger, you carefully placed the tea bag into the steaming water. 

“Great! I was wondering, well, I mean—you see, I made some caramel apples for Charlie. Except, she hasn’t had one of mine since she was a girl, so I just wanted someone to take a test bite before I presented it to heel

Slowly, you could see the color begin to change as the herbal goodness was dispersed in the cup. You turned to him slowly, eyebrows raised as you regarded him.

“You want me to.. try one of your apples?”

“Yes! That would be great, just to know I still got the gourmet chef in me.” He smiled, lifting up a finger right above his lips, and swirling it in the air. As if twirling a long mustache.

“Your tea, Your Majesty.” You chuckled, bending your head slightly, placing it down on the desk in front of him. When you lifted your head, you were greeted with the sight of a large, light-brown coated apple. 

“It’s not poisoned I promise.” He teased, a lopsided grin on his face as he held the treat out to you, his fingers clasped around the kabob-like stick poking out of the bottom.

Carefully, you lifted your arm, plucking the caramel apple away from his grip. When you had it between your fingers, Lucifer reached down to take the tea cup from the desk, before swirling the mix around slightly. He blew at its surface, and the liquid rippled as steam still rose from it.

He gingerly lifted it to his lips, his pinky lifting away from the handle as he did so. His eyes softened as the herbal flavoring hit his tongue, and his body seemed to relax as warmth bloomed under his skin and the drink traveled down his throat.

‘He drinks with his pinky out? That’s so cute.’ You gushed silently, never did you think the King of Hell would practice such mannerisms. But, in all honesty, he didn’t seem like he should be in Hell at all. Guess that’s what happens, when the highest powers known to man punish you for being you.

His eyes never left you as he drank, as he waited for you to take a bite. You turned the treat in your grip, inspecting it a final time. Carefully, you lifted it to your face, and took a bite of its side.

Lucifer seemed to grimace as your mouth closed against the large chunk of apple. You chewed for a moment, letting your taste buds do the work. Then, your brain short-circuited at the sensations, and your eyes lit up.

“Woa-hu-ho! This is fantastic!” You beamed, and Lucifer’s eyes widened in a look of surprise.

“Really..?”

“Yes! It’s actually really good! I think Charlie is going to love it!” You nodded briskly, taking another bite of delicacy.

“Ha, well. Guess I still got it in me after all this time.” He boasted, chest puffing just slightly at your compliments.

You obliterated that apple in front of him, taking barely a moment to breathe as you scarfed it down. God, his cooking was actually really good. What else could he make?

Lucifer only watched you, a faint smile on his lips as he watched you devour the treat. As if he was fascinated by your sudden primal hunger. 

Your eyes met his and you stopped suddenly, covering your mouth as you continued to chew. Heat flooding your cheeks in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, this is pretty rude of me..”

“No! Not at all, if I had more I'd surely give it to you,” he laughed, setting his almost-empty drink back onto the desk, “and please, call me Lucifer. There’s no need to use such titles in a private setting like this.”

Right as he spoke, the front entrance doors burst open, and Charlie and Vaggie strolled in chattering loudly. They held a few shopping bags in their hands, as they entered the lobby.

Right, so much for privacy. Couldn’t you get five more minutes with the #1 bachelor in the realm?

“Oh, Dad!” Charlie exclaimed, surprise etched on her face at seeing Lucifer standing beside you.

“Charlie!” He beamed, strolling over to her. He encompassed her into another of his signature bear hugs, and she sputtered for breath in his hold.

“Wha—gasp—what are you doing here?”

“I just came by to visit, also to take another peek at some renovations that really need to be done. Among other things.”

“Oh, okay! Let me drop this stuff off by Angel Dust, and we can do that.” Charlie smiled at her father, before turning and crossing the room to another hallway.

Lucifer watched her leave, before turning to you, his eyebrows raised as he spoke, “I assume you’ll still be sitting here the next time I stop by?” 

He wanted to see you again? Your brain couldn’t process that thought when the words left his lips.

“As always.” You smiled warmly at him, as you cleaned up the now-empty cup from the desk. You didn’t say ‘Your Majesty’ this time, but you weren’t sure whether calling your king by his real name was appropriate. At least, not yet.

“Good.” He nodded approvingly, before his back faced you and he walked out of the lobby. Your gaze lingered on the corner he had turned out of view from, before you sighed and returned to work. 

You didn’t notice those sickly red eyes watching you intensely from the shaded corner of the room, as you took a seat back at your desk. 

Days like that continued, where you’d be greeted by the soft knocking against the entrance door. And, when you opened it, you’d meet the handsome, smiling face of Lucifer.

“Good morning, I hope you’re hungry!” He’d state as he strolled past you, always stopping right next to your desk first when he came.

You made sure to save your stomach for the delicacy he always carried with him now. Usually, he’d bring two, one for Charlie, and one for you. 

“I need to make sure she’ll like this one too.” He had explained. You were apparently his official taste tester now, but you never complained.

He’d hold the treat out to you, one eyebrow raised playfully, as he presented the caramel apple like a rose.

“Now with sprinkles!” He’d exclaim as you’d gingerly take it from his grip, your fingers brushing against his. The warmth a welcome feeling to your skin.

You’d sit there, feasting on the apple in your seat as he leaned against the desk. He was very chatty, even when he still held reservations around people in general. It never bothered you, of course. It stopped you from getting so bored while you worked.

“Don’t even get me started on Mammon,” Lucifer groaned, as you told him about your most recent circus acts, “the guy will do anything to put more money in his pocket. Y’know, he thinks we’re best buddies or something, thinks that lets him plagiarize my amusement park.”

“Why don’t you tell him to shut it down?”

“Because it brings in more business,” Lucifer had shrugged, “People go there, expecting a good show, and don’t find one. So, they go to my LuLu World, and bam, they never want to leave!”

You chuckled at the name, ‘LuLu’. Yep, you were definitely speaking to the Sin of Pride, alright.

“What’s so funny?” He had asked, curious at your reaction. You straightened yourself, a lop-sided smile on your lips when you realized he caught your laugh.

“Nothing it’s just.. ‘LuLu World’? There had to be something better you could have called it.”

Lucifer gasped, placing a hand on his heart, feigning hurt. “Woah, woah. First, you say I'm good with names, and now you’re laughing at them? Dirty.” 

“Oh, I'm so sorry. Please, good sir, don’t smite me!” You mocked a pain expression, clasping your hands together in a gesture of begging.

“I will allow you to live for now. Can’t have the hotel going into shambles because you’re not here to keep it running.” Lucifer’s voice deepened as he fixed his posture into a much more royal stance. As if he was speaking to a lowly squire in court.

‘I barely do anything around here, but thanks for the confidence boost.’ you’d answer silently, as you leaned back in your chair, watching his antics with amusement.

You began to anticipate his arrival with excitement. Even pouring his tea beforehand, so when he walked through those doors, you’d place a steaming cup into his palms. You always enjoyed the way his eyes softened when he took his first sip.

Hell, you enjoyed.. everything about him. His smile, his jokes, the care he had for his daughter, even if he had a hard time showing it. He made you smile, which was something you haven’t done willingly in a long time. 

And, his smile? That real, true look of happiness that blossomed on his face? That slowly began to return as well. 

For a few months, everything was dandy. Until, one evening, when Alastor summoned you to his room.

He never did that, and that made you nervous.

You stood at the closed door to his room, your heart pounding in your chest. What did he want? Did you do something wrong? Your thoughts just couldn’t still as you fidgeted nervously.

Slowly, you lifted your knuckles to the door. Before you could even graze the wooden surface, the door swung open. It creaked loudly as it did so, and your breath hitched as you began to glimpse inside.

You poked your head in, your eyes scanning across the room. The decorations were so outdated, it almost made you gag. Skeletons of an alligator hung on the wall, its eyes glowing from the string of lights wrapped around its figure.

A large shelf of books, mostly for cooking, stood out against a small wooden table. A small radio sat snug on the desk, playing a gentle jazz tune. On the opposite side of the room, was where that freaky abyss lay. You had never stepped foot there, the part of the room that simply seemed to dissolve into a dark, swampy land. 

Then, you heard humming. Staticy, soft humming, coming from the left side of the room.

Alastor stood over a bloody cutting board, a large kitchen knife in his hand. He wore an apron that was spattered with blood, his usual overcoat was gone, replaced by a dark red tuxedo underneath and a—surprisingly—clean white dress shirt.

He hummed along in sync with the music wafting from the speaker, as he continued to slice along the large slab of meat on the counter. You couldn’t dare think what the flesh used to be as you slipped through the crack, shutting the door softly behind you.

It didn’t seem like he knew you were standing there awkwardly by the door, but you knew he did. How long was he going to have you wait?

Clearing your throat, you spoke softly, “you wanted to see me, Alastor?”

“Ah, hello there, my friend!” He pivoted sharply, his tone chipper as he smiled at you. The knife was still in his grip, and he swirled it in the air playfully. “How are you doing on this fine, hellish evening?”

“Fine..”

“Wonderful! I called you here today because there is something I’ve wanted to discuss with you for some time. You see, I've taken notice that you and our ever-so charming King of Hell have been growing closer these past few months.”

This is what he wanted to talk about? You fought to not roll your eyes at that. 

“Let me guess, you want me to stop talking to him?”

Alastor giggled at that, a maniacal fit of he-he’s as he forcefully stabbed the knife into the slab of flesh. It stuck out like a grim warning, as he brushed his hands against his apron before removing it entirely. 

“On the contrary,” he spoke as he hung the apron against a dining chair, “I want you to get closer to him.”

You blinked, leaning your head back slightly as you processed his words.

“Wait, what?”

Alastor nodded, confirming that you didn’t just hallucinate that. He slowly walked forward, before placing a hand on your shoulder as he moved behind you.

“You see, I believe it’s in both our best interests to forge a deeper connection with our illustrious King. There are certain… opportunities that may arise from such a relationship.”

“Opportunities? What kind of opportunities are we talking about here?”

“Ah, now that would be telling, wouldn’t it? Let’s just say that there are benefits to being in the King’s inner circle. Power, influence, the chance to shape Hell itself… But I’ve said too much already. Just trust me on this one, my dear.”

Trust Alastor? Ha! That was the first joke he’s ever spoken to you that was actually funny. 

Your thoughts raced as he appeared on your other side, his claw grazing across the back of your neck as he rested his hand on your shoulder once more. 

He wanted you to what, fake your attraction to Lucifer? Wanted you to lie and manipulate him so he’d bend to your will, and carry out Alastor’s evil deeds in the guise of caring for you?

“What makes you think he’d even fall for that? He’s an angel, he’s not stupid.”

Alastor chuckled, patting your shoulder as his grin widened. “Haven’t you noticed the change in his demeanor? The little.. pep in his step? Ever since he met you that first day, he’s only grown more attached to you.”

Was that true? Sure, Lucifer seemed to be getting better, slowly. Seemed to smile more genuine as time went on. But, that couldn’t be because of you! He was reconnecting with his daughter, of course he’d be happier at the hotel.

It didn't matter, in the end. You weren’t going to do that to Lucifer. You weren’t going to ruin the one relationship that was built by trust. The question is, could you resist Alastor?

“What if I don’t want to?” You finally ground out, your firsts clenching at your sides.

Suddenly, you felt a chill around your neck, and you gasped at the sensation. You lifted one hand up, to try and feel whatever was clenching at your throat.

Your fingers wrapped around a green, metal collar that seemed to tighten as the seconds ticked by. Energy sizzled against your fingertips, like static. Eyes widening, you ripped your hand away, your feet moving on instinct to get away from him.

Your back hit the wall roughly, your heart practically beating out of your chest as you watched Alastor slowly stalk towards you. His eyes began to shift, resembling that of radio dials. Those small antlers on his head began to rapidly branch out, growing longer every step he took.

“What if you don’t want to? My, what a foolish question.”

He was just inches from your face, that toothy smile practically ear to ear as he leaned in. Lifting a hand, his claws grazed your collar bone, before traveling up towards the glowing green clasp.

A single claw hooked underneath the metal surface, pushing roughly against your throat as he tugged you harshly forward by it. 

His breath hit your face, and you scrunch your nose from the foul odor. He reeked of death.

“It seems you have forgotten who owns your soul, my dear.” He whispered in your ear. You squeezed your eyes shut, your lip quivering as he spoke.

“If you try to resist, try to fight against your chains. I’ll make sure my radio broadcast is filled with nothing but your dying screams.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the collar only becoming colder as you writhed slightly against his touch.

“I-I’m sorr-“

“You sold your soul to me, don’t forget. If there is anyone to blame for your misfortune, it is you alone.” Alastor hissed, thrusting you even closer to him by your collar. You felt his smile crease brush against your skin, and you shivered.

You were becoming increasingly aware how sickly-yellow his teeth were, compared to Lucifer’s. Disgust began to boil in your belly as you opened your mouth.

“I’ll do it!” You whimpered, your heart pounding, “I’ll do it..”

“Wonderful.” He drawled, before leaning away from you. His claw released your collar, and it dissolved in green fog. You coughed, rubbing your neck, as Alastor took your shoulder and roughly nudged you to the door. 

It opened on its own, and you were pushed through the threshold. 

“I’m glad we could have this little chat,” Alastor’s chipper tone returned, as you stared at him with disgust, “Have a hellish rest of your day, my friend!”

The door slammed shut as he disappeared back into his room. Leaving a rush of angry tears to pool at your feet alone.

Two weeks had passed, since Alastor told you to tug the heartstrings of the King of Hell, to play him right into your fraud-loving palms. Oh, the universe must surely hate you.

You had begun to avoid Lucifer, though. Whenever he was around, catching you at work, you’d continue your silly little chats. You began to memorize the timeframe he’d show up to the hotel, and make some kind of excuse to not be there when he knocked. Either you were out shopping for supplies, or seeing the latest movie. Anything you could think of, you’d leave and force Husker to greet Lucifer.

The guilt of knowing what would happen if Lucifer fell in love with you? It ate you up inside. You hardly slept lately, tossing and turning with terrible nightmares of drowning in that cold, dark, bottomless well. The chains tied to your feet, preventing your escape to the surface.

Would anyone care if you just let yourself sink to the bottom? 

Those thoughts were still on your mind as you did your morning jumping jacks.

You had asked Charlie to use one of her empty storage rooms as a place to practice your acrobatics, which you had started doing every night now. It was any easy escape from your troubles, on the farthest side of the hotel from the lobby, where no one could bother you.

It was a large room, with ceiling-high windows that lit the room with a light red hue. You had convinced Alastor to give you a makeshift gym as a part of your “deal”. If you were going to be forced to be the bad guy, he could at least give you a place to kick ass.

There were multiple gymnastic bars set up at different heights, two balance beams, and a small-scale tightrope. The tightrope was a thick wire connected between two poles across one side of the room, roughly the size of your torso. There was a platform attached to each pole, allowing good foot room on each side of the wire.

Tonight, you were practicing walking on your hands across the balance beam. Sweat dripped from your forehead, and you watched it land onto the leathery cover of the beam beneath you. 

You had made it halfway across, when you heard the door to the room open softly. 

“I didn’t even know there were rooms back here!” An astonished, familiar voice came from the doorway. 

What was Lucifer doing here?!

Your brain short-circuited, and your arms began to wobble beneath you. You lost your balance, and  immediately tumbled off the balance beam with a breathless “Fuck!”

Your side hit the mats below, pain bloomed from your shoulder as you lay there in defeat. You heard a high pitched yelp from behind you, and the sounds of feet pattering against the floor neared.

“You’re not dead, are you?” Lucifer laughed nervously as he kneeled beside you. He reached a hand down to your face, before he hesitated, and instead lifted his cane.

You felt soft poking against your cheek, as he prodded you with the black stick. 

“Stop that.” You grumbled into the mat, stirring slightly from the floor.

“Oh, you’re not dead! What a relief.” He said, exhaling a breath he had been holding. “I’m terribly sorry about that! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You groaned, before lifting yourself up from the mat. You got to your feet, rubbing your shoulder tenderly.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. What are you doing here, though?” 

Lucifer processed your question for a moment, before he suddenly straightened himself up. Head held high, he strutted over to you, before halting. He glanced at you, before he began fussing with his bow-tie nonchalantly.

“Well, I came to find you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because, I wanted to speak with you. And, you’re conveniently always out of the room when I want to do that.”

Shit. Did he notice you were avoiding him? You didn’t think it was that obvious.

Lucifer watched you intensely, analyzing your reaction to his accusatory statement. He had a firm line on his lips, as if your actions didn’t bother him. 

“I’m not avoiding you.” 

“Oh, really?”

“I came here to improve my aerobatics, before you rudely interrupted me.”

“Right, like you need to improve.”

You turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re already good at it, there’s no reason for you to come here every day.”

He turned his head to face you as he spoke, and your eyes caught sight of something wiggling slightly on the top of his head. Is that apple decoration not fully attached to his hat?

Suddenly, you had an idea. A playful smile began to bloom on your lips, as you slowly made your way towards him. 

“Actually, that’s not true. I’m not that good at tightrope walking, I’ve told you that before.”

Right before he turned his head so he could trace your movements, you shot your arm above his hat, your fingers pinching around the small apple stem.

You sharply pivoted, facing him now as you walked backwards towards the tightrope platform. The apple hung behind your back, as you kept his gaze. 

“Buuut, I think I’m much better at it than you.”

“Excuse me?”

You turned to face the platform, moving your arm fluidly and taking the stem between your teeth, before lifting yourself on the white surface. 

Gripping the apple once more, you turn to him slowly, watching his eyes widen as you swing the apple between your fingers for his viewing pleasure.

“Actually, I think I'm better at this whole circus bizz than you. Look! I’m a magician even, would you like to see another trick, Your Majesty?” 

Lucifer stood there in shock, for a few moments. His red pupils darted from the swiped apple to you, before they dilated slightly. Then, he laughed, an audible ‘Ha ha!’ at your words. 

“You think you’re better at the circus than me?” Lucifer asked slowly, a mixture of disbelief and teasing in his tone.

“Without a doubt!” You called, turning to face the wire. Not giving him a second glance, a smug smile formed on your lips.

Lucifer regarded you a moment, before a mischievous grin played on his face. “Well, let’s prove it then.” 

He lifted his cane, before tapping it against the ground twice. Suddenly, you found the platform vibrating underneath your feet. Then, it began to move. You stumbled, and then fell to your knees, gripping the edges as you squeezed your eyes shut.

What the hell was happening?!

The support pole began to rise up, and up, and up, until it barely grazed against the ceiling. Slowly, you opened one eyelid, and then the other. You were still safe, clutching to the platform. The tightrope was still holding, connected to the pole across the room. 

You exhaled a side of relief, before crawling over to the edge. Your eyebrows flew up in surprise as you judged the distance to the ground, you were roughly three stories in the air!

Did.. Lucifer do that? He took “prove it” to a whole new level with this one. 

You got back onto your feet, the apple still in your palm as you placed your other hand against the support beam. Now, where was Lucifer? Did he stick you up here to starve to death?

“Hey.”

You jumped, reeling back from the voice, right towards the edge of the platform.

“Woah—hang on there now!” Lucifer quickly reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrists, tugging you back to the center of the stand. You blinked, slowing your heart beat, as you stared in surprise.

“Lucifer? How did you get up here?”

“I can fly, remember?” 

That’s right, he did have wings. You just didn’t think he was that fast with them. Lucifer had also completely ditched his hat and overcoat, instead he was in his red and white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to partially expose his forearms. 

His hair was slightly disheveled, no doubt from the flight up here. It wasn’t as slicked back as before, small strands of hair sticking out messily. You thought that was adorable.

Lucifer looked down, before smiling sheepishly and withdrawing his hand from your wrist. He brushed his fingers down your hand, his nails gently grazing against your palms.

This time, you didn’t feel the cool sensation from his gold ring against your skin, as his pinky lifted from your hand.

“Now, are you going to walk across that wire, or are you going to just give me back my apple?”

You met his eyes, his gaze playful as he smirked at you. He took a step closer, and you took a step back. Slowly, your heel hit the wire, and you halted. 

Lucifer watched you expectantly, waiting for you to make a move. He probably assumed you’d turn around to cross the wire, and he’d nab the apple from behind your back.

Too bad for the King of Hell, you could walk on a tightrope backwards. You winked at him, as your feet moved fully onto the wire. You pivoted slightly every so often, your body fluidly leaning back and forth as you adjusted for balance.

Lucifer watched you, admiration in his eyes as you maneuvered your way down the tightrope. You pulled the apple from behind you, teasing it in front of his view.

“The big question is, how do you think you’re going to best me in those heels, Your Majesty?” 

Lucifer glanced down at his knee-high boots, before slowly peeling them off his feet. He placed them neatly to the side, before moving a foot to the wire.

He began to put his weight onto the tightrope, wobbling a little as he adjusted for balance. He definitely did not do this often, and you laughed softly at his failing posture.

Lucifer huffed, glancing at you, who was still moving a reasonable distance away from him. Then, a smirk played on his lips, and you saw forms begin to appear against his back. 

The red feathers of his wing’s underbelly began to glimmer in the light from the large windows behind you, as he slowly opened them to full length.

Six ethereal, majestic wings flapped gracefully behind him. They began to pivot slightly, adjusting for Lucifer’s balance much quicker and with ease.

“That is so dirty!” You laughed at him, shaking your head disapprovingly.

“Looks like I'm going to getcha!” He teased, as he began to take much more confident steps across the wire; his wings flapping softly, boosting his speed.

You took bigger, riskier steps as you closed in on the other platform. Your heartbeat racing from the challenge, adrenaline beginning to pump in your veins.

“What happens if I eat this apple?” You asked, holding up the apple to your nose, before taking a deep sniff. Licking your lips playfully, you glanced back up to Lucifer.

“A tummy ache, I'm afraid. But, hey, I'll trade you a caramel apple for that one.”

Your stomach grumbled at that, and you genuinely licked your lips at his words.

“I might consider that proposition, if you can catch up to me that is.”

You spun on your heel, facing the base of the pole, as you began to increase your pace.

It wasn’t until you felt the wire jerk under your feet, did you begin to wobble. With a hitched breath, you try to regain your balance, but to no avail.

Your foot slips, and you feel your body beginning to lean off too far to the side. Gasping in surprise, you flail your arms hoping to catch anything in your grip to stop your fall.

Right as you begin to free fall, you feel strong arms snake around yours and grip you firmly. 

“Hang on, I got you!” Lucifer practically spoke in your ear as he pulled you forward, back up onto the wire. You breathe heavily, clutching his forearms tightly as you lean in closer, catching your breath.

Large wings flapping stronger now, Lucifer held you close as you both balanced along the same small portion of the tightrope. You felt his hot breath on your face, and realized how close the two of you actually were.

Your chest was practically against his cute little bow-tie, your legs brushing against each other as you balanced on the tiny surface. The steady wing beats of the fallen angel sent wind softly grazing past your ears, cooling the heat that was beginning to creep onto your cheeks.

He was so close, and so fucking gorgeous. Forget what Alastor wanted to do, what you wanted to do was kiss this man silly. For months, you both danced at the edge of each other's hearts. Gifts of affection, words of compassion, the whole shebang. 

Yet, you’ve never looked the King in the eye and told him ‘I want you.’

Was it because you were stubbornly fighting against Alastor’s demands, that you even ignored your own true feelings? Just to spite the powerful cannibal?

Couldn’t you just look at a sexy man in peace, without anyone else watching your every move?

“Are you alright?” Lucifer asked after a moment, pulling you from your ogling.

“You saved me..” You finally breathed, eyes wide and you met his soft gaze.

“Of course I did, why wouldn’t I—”

Lucifer’s words caught in his mouth as you pressed your lips to his. He froze at the touch initially, but it only took a moment for his entire body to soften against yours. 

His hands found his way to your waist, and he pulled you flush against his body. Your fingers reached up, and you began to caress the sides of his face, twirling a few pieces of hair between your pinkies as you deepened the kiss.

The warmth that bloomed from his touch was intoxicating, your entire being craving for more as you leaned even farther into his embrace. 

His hands moved from your waist, until they brushed underneath your shirt. His palms coming up to cup the small of your back as he pressed you closer to him, as if worried you might dissipate into the air and leave him forever.

It was a good thing he had six wings to keep the two of you afloat, or else you would have been a splatter on the mats by now.

You felt Lucifer's teeth graze against your lip, and you had to fight to not bite his lip back. After a few more moments, you pulled away from his face, your breath coming out ragged as you gave him some distance. 

Lucifer blinked a few times, his eyebrows beginning to raise slowly as a dopey smile danced onto his lips.

“I really enjoyed that, but we should probably get on solid ground, don't you think?” He laughed breathlessly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked at you adoringly.

You reached up, brushing the few loose strands out of his eyes, before nodding. “That is a good idea.” 

“Well, just hang on.” Lucifer replied with a mischievous grin, and you opened your mouth to question him. Before you could get a word out, you felt him begin to lean backwards, pulling you along with him. 

You yelped and squeezed your eyes shut, as you began to free fall on top of him. Lucifer only hugged you closer, before his wings shot open, slowing your descent. 

Carefully, you peeled your eyelids open to the two of you gliding softly down, as Lucifer circled the pole lazily. Your feet swung in the air, and the wind rushed past your ears. The adrenaline rush causing you to laugh in glee as you felt your feet hit a hard surface.

You both stood there in silence for a few moments, the weight of what just transpired finally settling on top of you. 

Holy shit, you just kissed the King of Hell! From trying to stay as far away from him, to getting as close as physically possible. What a twist.

“Well, now that we’re down here,” Lucifer began slowly, his gaze meeting yours with a playful roll of his eyebrows, “we could continue our previous.. discussion.” 

You almost obliged, until you heard the familiar call of Charlie, as she searched for her father. You tensed in his grip, before pulling away from his hold. A pout formed on Lucifer’s lips at the absence of your touch, before he straightened himself. 

Snapping his fingers, that familiar white overcoat magically materialized onto his figure, along with his wide brim hat. Your eyes landed onto that spot where the missing apple usually was, and then you noticed how empty both your hands were.

“Your apple! I think I dropped it when I almost fell.” You explain apologetically.

“Oh, you mean this apple?”

Lucifer pulled the red, gleaming trophy from beneath his overcoat. He threw it in the air a few times, catching it gracefully. A silent boast as he grinned at you. Your mouth only hung agape, as you scanned the apple for any imperfections.

“There is no way you took that from me! How do I know you didn’t just make that?”

“Woah! Sounds like someone is a sore loser.” Lucifer laughed, before turning towards the door, he kept his gaze on yours as he did so, walking backwards as he talked.

Slowly, you kept pace with him, shaking your head in disbelief at his words. He was just as preoccupied as you, sucking on your face, you couldn’t believe he actually took it from you in the chaos.

“At least we settled the little debate, hm? Seems like i’m better at these kinds of things than you. Just like I said.”

“We’ll definitely come back and test that theory with your wings bound this time.”

“Oh, will we? Is that a challenge?”

Lucifer halted at the doorway, and you stopped a few footsteps away. You batted your eyelashes at him, grinning playfully, “it’s a promise, actually.” 

He grinned at that, before he leaned in closer, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

“So, you haven’t been avoiding me, then?” 

‘Not this again.’ You groaned internally.

“No, I haven’t. I’m sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind lately.” You quickly spoke, an apologetic look on your face. Would he buy your lie?

“And you’ll tell me when something is wrong, right?” 

You cracked him an assuring smile, “of course!” You lied through pearly-white teeth. 

Lucifer nodded approvingly at that, before he glanced out of the room. You both could hear Charlie a hallway or two away, and she seemed frantic to find her father. Lucifer only sighed, before turning to you.

“Looks like I’ll be seeing you real soon, Darling.” He promised, bowing his head slightly to you. You wanted to scold him for that, about lowering his head to someone of lower class, if he did that in public no doubt the citizens of Hell would mock him for it.

But, you weren’t in public. You were alone, with someone you cherished, able to whisper all your secrets, hopes, and dreams to someone you trusted most. If only you could tell him the truth, and not be stuck here drowning in your own lies.

Lucifer gave you one final glance, before he turned away, strolling through the hall away from your room. A happy whistle came from his lips, and you could hear it slowly fading as he moved away.

Backing up, you plopped down on a bench on the side of the room. The recent events hit you like a freight train, and you realized how terribly stupid you were.

How were you supposed to protect Lucifer from whatever plan Alastor had in store for him, if you were going to keep disregarding your brain for your weak little heart? 

Yes, Lucifer was the most powerful being in Hell, far more powerful than that red demon. But, he was also a sad, lonely angel. Who craved affection and attention, which he seemed to want solely from you and Charlie. 

If your life were in danger, would he be stupid and risk his own for you? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. Your filthy, sinning soulless self wasn’t worth the trouble.

You just wish Lucifer would see that. 

For an hour, you paced the perimeter of the room. Your thoughts clear as you evaluated all the metaphorical cards in your hand. If Husk taught you anything about gambling, it was always to call your opponents bluff before he had a chance to do it to you.

Your feet halted suddenly, your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you stared through the large windows. Your thoughts settling as you watched the waning light.

You weren’t some pushover, some scared little child in need of protection. You weren’t going to let some murderous psychopath take any more control of your life. You were going to call the shots this time, even if that meant being dragged by the throat into that well.

As long as everyone you cared about, even Husker, made it out.

There was only one plan of action you saw ahead. And, it was not going to be the easy route.

“I’m done.” 

Alastor halted, the wall sconces in the hallway illuminating his sharp grin as he heard the words leave your lips. It had been four days since you decided you were going to stand against him.

“Pardon?” The words left his lips slowly, his head cracking in-humanely to one side, his ears twisting to face you. 

“I said I’m done deceiving for you. I’m not going to lie to Lucifer, or anyone else, for any longer.”

Alastor didn’t say anything, his back still turned to you. His claws tapped against his microphone, rhythmic and loud as he processed your words.

“Is that so?” 

“Yes, and I don’t care what you have to say about it. There’s more to the world than power, Alastor.”

You felt something cold tugging against your neck, that familiar, sickening sensation returning to your body. You sucked in a large breath, calming your rapid heartbeat. 

Green illuminated your face as you felt something heavy begin to weigh on your body. Alastor held one of his hands out, before flicking his wrist with a painful pop sound. 

The chain snapped forward from the collar around your throat, snaking around your figure as it wove to Alastor’s palm, its green glow casting eerie shadows against the walls. You struggled against its hold, feeling the cold, metallic links digging into your skin. Alastor's laughter echoed through the hallway, a chilling sound that sent shivers down your spine.

"You dare defy me?" Alastor's voice was low, dangerous. "You forget your place, little puppet."

Panic surged through you as you fought against the chain, but it only tightened its hold, squeezing the air from your lungs. You gasped for breath, your vision blurring as darkness threatened to consume you.

"Perhaps a reminder is in order," Alastor said, his tone dripping with malice. "A lesson in obedience."

“Don’t you have any more tricks in the book than this fucking chain?” You growled between gasps, the back of your head sliding against the floor as you twisted against its metal grasp. “C’mon Al, this is just embarrassing.”

Immediately, his face contorted into a look into a large, crooked smile. His eyes shifted to resemble radio dials, as he harshly yanked you towards him. Your cheek slid across the carpet, and you felt the sting of rug burn bloom across your face.

‘Don’t let him see you scared, don’t let him win.’ You begged yourself internally, as you held your tears back. 

Alastor’s face began to change, his features sharpening drastically, that crooked smile growing all the more larger. His antlers branched farther from his head, gnarling together in twisting designs above his ears. 

Even his hair began to stand on end, as he stalked closer to you. Shadows enveloped the hall, like a fog rolling in. Obscuring the sight of your eventual corpse, as Alastor wrapped the chain around his arm, keeping it taut as he closed in.

“The only embarrassment,” He started, his voice flickering into pure static at his rage, “will be how fast it takes for your s̴͔̓̌̍ç̵̯̮͍͆̿r̷̼̥̿̒̊̐e̸͙̣̯͛̽̒a̷͈̼͗ͅm̵̮͑͛͆s̴̻͊̽̑ to die on your t̸̝͓̆͌͝ö̷̻͚̩̎͊n̸̨̘̭͍̕g̵̱̝͍̈́͛̍ͅû̶̞̼̲͜é̴̺, when I rip your h̷̟̣͚̅̏̔̚͜ë̵̺͙́́a̶͉͙̤͆͋r̶̼̈́͝t̴͙̯̕ out of your throat.”

Archaic symbols danced your vision as Alastor’s entire body seemed to contort into jagged edges, his arms and legs doubling in length, as his hunched back hit the ceiling of the hallway. His crooked neck lowered, his head itching closer. One claw coming out to hook  underneath you collar, pulling you up by the neck. 

“What will our dear King do then, when he finds your mangled body on his front door?” 

You snarled, trying to tear away from his grip. How dare he still try and bring Lucifer into this, even when the fallen angel could pulverize him in an instant. Couldn’t he face you one to one? 

The Radio Demon’s eyes flickered a darker red, and you feel the collar begin to tighten around your throat, squeezing the breath from your airways. You gasped, tears pricking at your eyes as you clawed at your neck in a poor attempt to stop the sensation.

“Alastor? Is everything alright over there?” 

Suddenly, the squeezing at your throat dispersed like fog, as the collar and chain vanished into thin air. You were left on the floor, sputtering for breath, as Alastor quickly pivoted towards the voice. His body instantly shifted back to normal, with quiet pops and clicks as his joints squeezed back into place.

It was Vaggie, coming down the hall, her eye staring suspiciously at his shaded form. 

Clutching your bruising throat, you stumble onto your feet. Your back hits the wall, and you use it for support to catch your breath.

Alastor straightened his suit, his expression morphing into its usual grin as if nothing had happened. “Oh, everything’s just dandy, Vaggie. Just having a delightful little chat with our friend here.” He gestured casually toward you, his tone dripping with false cheerfulness. “Isn’t that right?” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with an unknown expression.

“Yeah—cough—sorry, just choked on the water I was drinking.”

“Right. Listen, Alastor, I wanted to talk to you in private. If that’s okay with you.” Vaggie said, gesturing down the hall.

“Of course, it’s always a pleasure speaking with you, my dear!” You didn’t miss the way Alastor’s eye twitched, as if he was not thrilled about having to leave. But, he was deceiving everyone else, too. Which meant he had to play his little part to a T.

“I’m just.. going to go. I’m not feeling so well.” You muttered to the pair, before darting around the corner, out of sight. 

You ran to your room, slamming your door behind you. Your back hit its frame, before slowly sliding down until your bottom hit the carpet. Tears of anger flowed down your cheeks, as you continued to rub your neck.

Fuck. Why were you so powerless?! If only you had even a sliver of magic in you, you could have defied him better. Now, what was Alastor going to do? 

‘What did you expect?’ A part of your mind hissed scoldingly, ‘You just tried to fight the demon that owns your soul, and got your ass handed to you.’

You growled, rising to your feet. Frustration, sadness, pain, everything seeped out of you, and you felt like killing someone in that moment.

“It’s better—”

You picked up a spare shoe from the ground, your nails digging into it as you bared your teeth. Swinging it behind you, you vaulted it towards the opposite wall.

“—than doing nothing at all!” 

You heard glass shattering, and watched shards spill from the mirror above your dresser. You could see your face, partially obscured in its remaining reflection. You could see the slight purple marks around your neck, see the tears spilling from your cheeks.. see that dark look on your features, like you actually would kill somebody.

Reeling back, you placed your knuckles to your lips. Maybe, to stop that lip from quivering so violently. That face in the mirror reminded you of everything you hated about this wretched place.

And, now, you were becoming just like him. You stepped backwards, trying to distance yourself from the reflection, before the back of your legs hit the side of your bed, and you sank into the mattress. You wrapped your arms around your knees, curling into a ball as you sobbed the frustration out of you.

You could still feel the dark magic sizzling against your neck, as if it refused to release you of its hold just yet.

It wasn’t until you heard soft rapping of knuckles against glass did you lift your head. Turning towards the balcony doors, your eyes widen at the sight of the familiar figure standing outside. His silhouette illuminated by the dark red hues of the evening light, as he waved through the frosted glass.

“I see you over there! Can you let me in for a moment?” 

What was Lucifer doing here?! This was terrible timing for him to make an appearance! But, he knows you're there, can see your silhouette through the glass as you sit there on the bed. You sighed, quickly cleaning your face of tears, and taking a few deep breaths.

“Come in.” You called hoarsely, cracking the best smile you could muster.

The glass doors slowly pushed out of them, and Lucifer quietly shimmied through the cracks. He pivoted to face you, a large smile on his lips as he squinted at you through the darkness of your room.

“I’m so glad you’re here, I was just about to leave and then I remembered I never gave you your caramel apple!” 

Lucifer began to stroll forward, your face becoming less obscured in the shadows as he closed in. You tried to shrink away slightly, turning your knees away from him so he couldn’t see them quivering slightly.

“I put a layer of chocolate on it too, and so—wait, why are you crying?” His gaze intensified, as your face finally illuminated in the light.

“I-it’s nothing! I just had something in my eye!” You lied, cracking a wider smile.

“What are those marks on your neck?” Lucifer ignored your excuse, as he stalked closer to you. His eyes constantly scanning your figure looking for any more oddities. 

“Please, Lucifer.. I’m just tired and-”

“What is this?”

Lucifer had asked, his pupils dilated, trained on something against your throat. Something more than the small purple marks.

You began to rub your thumbs together in a soothing motion as you watched him move closer to you. Gulping, you parted your lips to speak.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything, before his hand gingerly lifted towards you. His nail grazed against your collarbone, and heat blossomed underneath your skin from his touch. 

‘Please, just stop here,’ you silently begged, eyes squeezing shut as his finger rested against your figure, ‘don’t ruin this moment by digging any farther.’

Your reaction only spurred him, however. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his pupils thin slits now as he watched you.

Slowly, his finger trailed upward, skin brushing softly against yours as he traced the invisible force only a powerful demon could see. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, every movement of his only quickening its pace. 

Until his hand stopped, right in the middle of your neck, and you felt a sizzling against your skin. The heat was becoming too much, and you wanted to pull away from his touch. You didn’t, instead, you tensed, deathly still before him.

A soft golden light illuminated from Lucifer’s palm, as his fingers wrapped around an invisible object. A shadow formed in his grip, and he tugged at it, that glow in his palm growing stronger.

Backing away, he yanked a long, thin chain from your figure, as if trying to free you of a parasite that found a home deep in your bones. As he stepped backwards, it only dragged across the floor, still connected to your neck as it lengthened.

A thick, metal collar snuggly encompassed your throat. The chain locked tightly against it, a vivid reminder of your poor decisions.

Lucifer’s palm slid across the cold, metal links. Eldritch magic seeped from its form in the shroud of thick fog. Archaic symbols danced at the edge of your vision as its glow illuminated Lucifer’s unreadable expression.

The chain was a sickly green, its harsh glow an annoyance to his eyes. It was embedded with a dark, chilling magic. Whispers of untold horrors and ancient curses coiling around you, promises of a fate worse than death. 

Lucifer could practically smell it, that red demon's aura as it encircled around your frame. A twisted signature, practically scrawled across your forehead like a stamp of ownership.

Oh, the audacity of a person to take such a kind soul and rip it away from its owner. 

You weren’t some dog to be beckoned at the flick of a wrist. You were so much more than that, you deserved so much more than that. 

Yet here you were, the clasp around your neck like a shadowed hand, softly squeezing the life out of your eyes. He could see it, clear as day.

Small, white horns protruded from his head as he clenched the chain tighter. He tugged it once, twice, as if testing its durability. You leaned back slightly, the chain becoming taught between the two of you.

That collar around your throat kept you locked in place, as you watched him turn the chain in his hands. For a moment, Lucifer’s figure melded into the horrid shadow of your owner, and your eyes widened in fear at your delusion.

You could see it, feel it. Your stomach brushing the stained carpet beneath you with that haunting figure bent in a sickly, twisted angle in front you. That chain wrapped around the radio demon’s hand as he threatened you with terrible acts if you failed to stay in line.

Seeing your face contort into pained anguish only caused him to bare his teeth slightly, the sharp edges glinting in the light.

Seeing it so deeply entwined with your very being only further spurred the king’s anger. It seeped quietly from him, his grip tight against the chains as if trying to snap them with his bare hands.

“Who did this?” He hissed, his gaze boring into yours. He wanted to hear you say that demon’s name, wanted to hear you confirm the truth that was so obvious in front of him. 

You knew he wasn’t angry at you, but still you bowed your head slightly. Averting your gaze from his pleading eyes, shame slowly clawing at your stomach. For a moment, you felt like throwing up. Wanting to rid yourself of the terrible feeling that was seeping into your skin.

You felt like crying, or throwing yourself into his arms. Wanting to melt into his hold, and be told again and again that everything would be alright. That the most powerful man in hell would come to your rescue.

But, deals that bartered in souls are a much more difficult magic to conquer.

Fighting the urge to collapse into his embrace, you steeled yourself. Hands planted against your knees, back straight in a pathetic attempt to have some kind of power in this moment. 

Your eyes sullenly traced across the harsh links of the chain, its form all too familiar by now. Yet, it still caused such grief in your bones no matter how many times you looked upon it over the years.

Slowly, your eyes shifted to meet his gaze. Your lips curved into a frown at his expression, and your predicament.

How were you supposed to tell the love of your life your soul didn’t belong to you? That you were trapped in a deal of your own making? 

Curse that little fine line in your deal that kept your mouth sealed shut, that prevented you from uttering his name.

“I-I..” You desperately tried to speak, to tell him the truth, but that invisible hand that pulled at your tongue forced your silence. Tears pricked at your eyes, the desperation in them evident as your attempts to explain only died behind those pretty lips of yours.

As your mouth shut in frustration, Lucifer’s anger only heightened. His eyes flared into a blood-red glow, a harsh change from that soft yellow radiance you often found yourself lost in.

He pivoted harshly away, his voice contorting into a snarl as he stalked out of the room. His overcoat appeared atop his shoulders, and it swished behind him as he moved. 

Lucifer’s thoughts were too tangled with the images of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

The tears that had threatened to spill finally rolled down your cheeks, your lip quivering as your eyes lingered on the doorway he had just exited. His thoughts too mangled with the image of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

Placing your face into your hands, you sobbed quietly. 

Oh, how that regret had begun to consume you as you continued to wallow in your self-pity. 

Regret, for thinking that giving away your soul was a simple feat. That somehow, you’d still be happy after the fact. 

Regret, for falling in love when you knew the deal that kept you to that deer demon’s side would never allow you to enjoy such a fleeting emotion. No matter how hard you clawed to Lucifer’s soft embrace, that chain would always be there to drag you back. 

Those soft whispers of affections, of promises you couldn’t keep. Knowing, one day, that constant-smiling demon could play his little games and tear you away from your lover’s hold forever.

Oh, what a lovestruck idiot you are. 

Lucifer’s feet carried him back to the lobby, his eyes glowing as he noticed the cat-demon, Husk, cleaning glasses behind the bar. He sharply turned in his direction, surely, this other being 

“You, bartender.” Lucifer hissed, as he lifted himself up onto the barstool, crossing one leg over the other. Acting as if only wanting to have a friendly chat with the demon. His claws extended slightly, as they tapped impatiently against the countertop. 

Husker looked up from the glass in his hands, his eyes bored and his mouth a thin line as he worked. It wasn’t until he saw Lucifer’s deadly expression did he drop the glass immediately, ears slightly pinned to his head, before straightening his back to address the king.

“I-uh, how can I help you, Your Majesty?” 

Lucifer’s lips upturned into a lopsided grin, those sharp teeth on full display. That’s right, some people have to remember exactly who they are dealing with.

“Where is your master?”

Husk paused, regarding Lucifer for a moment with an eyebrow raised. He was very aware of the tension between the two powerful demons, but he didn’t expect the King of Hell would go looking for Alastor.

“I’m not sure, sir. You could bring it up with Charlie when she gets back, I’m sure she knows more than little ol’ me.” 

Lucifer grimaced slightly at that. Of all the people in the hotel, his daughter was the last one he’d want to bring into this whole debacle.

“There’s got to be something you must know, bartender. He owns your soul too, does he not?”

“What, you think I keep track of the guy or something?” 

“No, but you should,” Lucifer snarled, leaning over the counter, causing Husk to reel back slightly, “it’s clear no one here keeps eyes on that filth, enough to stop him from hurting people in this very hotel.”

Husk seemed to deflate at that. Those long, feathery eyebrows of his lowering slightly as an unreadable expression crossed his face. He set the glass down, before sharply turning away from Lucifer.

“He’s usually in his room, by now,” Husk spoke quietly after a moment, “down the left hall, last door on the right. Ya can’t miss it.”

Lucifer didn’t give thanks, instead he tapped his cane at his side, and golden waves circled around him. In an instant, the King was gone, a few pieces of gold dust landing softly against the barstool. 

“Asshole.” Husk muttered, before popping open a bottle of liquor and lifting it to his lips.

Lucifer opened his eyes to see a large door in front of his face, green symbols glittered against its frame, etched into the wood with practiced precision.

Only Lucifer could see them, though. Only powerful wielders of such a force could see these runes. Magical spells, cast upon the room. Protection, defense, muffling, everything an evil guy could dream of.

Although, the demon’s magic was strange. Unfamiler, even. Seems like he’s been dabbling in a new form of sorcery.

Lucifer stood there, for a few moments. He didn’t knock at the door, or jiggle the handle. The Radio Demon was not the one in control here, so he simply waited impatiently for an answer.

“I know you’re in there, you rat.” Lucifer hissed, the horns poking from his head continuing to rise. “I know you can hear me. Why don’t you do us both a favor and show yourself, or are you too much of a coward now?” 

Slowly, the door to Alastor’s room creaked open. The interior obscured by thick shadows, with soft lights flickering from the edges of the room as Lucifer continued to stand there.

“Your Majesty!” A cheerful voice called from the shadows of the room, and Lucifer bared his teeth at the tone. “What an honor to have someone like you gracing my presence. Please, come in!”

Lifting his head high again, Lucifer took a confident step into the room. He had every right to be, even in the demon’s own abode, the King’s powers were unmatched. 

Lucifer’s lips curled into a sneer at the saccharine greeting. “Save the pleasantries, rat. We both know why I’m here.”

As Lucifer stepped further into the room, the door behind him remained wide open, the light from the hallway illuminating the King’s figure. Alastor’s silhouette still danced within the shadows, the glow of his red eyes illuminating the space as he carefully followed the King’s movements.

“Ah, but do we really, Your Majesty? Enlighten me.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “You have an uncanny knack to create suffering with everything you touch. Now, you pull the strings of innocent lives. Do you thirst for power that fucking badly, to make a deal for someone’s soul?”

“They made a deal on their own whim,” Alastor retorted, waving his hands in a sweeping motion, brushing off the accusation, “How could I say no to such an offer? I’m a demon, if you can recall.”

The lights in the room began to flicker with renewed life, and Alastor’s sharp grin only made the fallen angel want to tear it from his face.

“Demons like you deserve to be ground into dust.” Lucifer snarled, closing the distance between the two. He lifted his head, meeting Alastor’s piercing gaze. His claws wrapped around the Radio Demon’s black bow tie, and he harshly tugged him down to his eye level.

Alastor stared at the grip with a deathly silence, his face contorting into sharper features, his pupils taking the dialed form once more. 

Energy crackled in the room, a mix of both demon’s powers as the tension only continued to escalate. Alastor didn’t move from the hold, he knew better than to test that fate. 

The lines above Lucifer’s lips scrunching as he stared at the demon with disgust. “You steal the souls of those weaker than you to fill that emptiness in your own, it’s pathetic.”

“Maybe.” Alastor shrugged nonchalantly, before a green spark sizzled against his bow-tie, and it limply fell from his clothing in Lucifer grip. He turned away, stalking towards the cutting board on the counter.

“Don’t walk away from me, you freak. Lest I do everyone in this hotel a favor and remove you from existence right here.”

A dark chuckle bounced against the walls, filling the room as Alastor kept his back to Lucifer. “Ah, but if you kill me, they die too. Souls entwined with each other, you see. Such a dilemma, wouldn’t you say?”

Lucifer gritted his teeth, cursing his oversight. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

Alastor’s voice took on a sly tone. “But fear not, Your Majesty. I’m not without mercy. I understand the affection you hold for such a.. charming demon.”

Lucifer’s gaze hardened, suspicion clouding his features. “What do you want?”

“Why don’t we.. make a d̴̻͉̺̆è̴̛͎̟̖̻͐a̵̭̫͆͆̽l̸͓͍̽̆̀̕?” Alastor’s tone crackled with static, as he spun to face the fallen angel. His head tilting curiously to one side, watching Lucifer’s expression.

Lucifer laughed, an audible ha-ha as the words left Alastor’s lips. He twisted his cane between his fingers, his claws leaving small etched lines trailing behind his movements.

“A deal with you? Do you actually expect me to give you my soul?”

Alastor’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, not your soul, silly! It’s nothing too extravagant. Just a little exchange of power. After all, what’s a deal between demons?”

“And, what exactly does this deal entail?”

Alastor paused for a moment, his intense gaze never leaving. “I have.. a few affairs I never got to settle when I died. I’d like to be able to return to that filthy place, whenever and wherever I want.”

“That’s it?” Lucifer asked in disbelief, his head leaning back slightly as he processed the demon’s words. “You want access to the human realm? You’re standing before the King of Hell! Why not simply ask for my title?”

Damnit, Lucifer, is it really the time to get your pride twisted?

“Oh, I couldn’t be bothered to bare such responsibilities of a king. I’d take your strength in a heartbeat though, but we both know you aren’t powerful enough to bless me with such a gift.”

The mockery in Alastor’s tone of the fallen angels' lack of heavenly abilities, spurred Lucifer. Who’s horns were fully out for view now, that small fire licking hungrily between them.

“Well? What is it going to be, Your Majesty?” Alastor hummed, his nails clicking against the countertop. “Do you want their soul or not?”

A demon like Alastor, being granted the ability to leap from the realms? It was much different than giving Amsodueus’ little spawns access via that orange crystal, who didn’t hold the kind of magic the demon before him did. 

What would he do when he was up there? Steal more souls? Go on a slaughter spree? There was no telling with the twisted man before him.

But… it was Heaven’s problem. Wasn’t it? It was them who cast Lucifer away from the place he helped create, and now it was their job to clean up the messes.

“Why would you give me something of such value for something like that?” Lucifer asked after a  moment.

“Because your little lover is a deep pain in my side, always disrespecting and challenging my words. If it wasn’t for that silver tongue of theirs, I’d have killed them ages ago.”

Lucifer growled, golden flames dancing on his fingertips at Alastor’s words. 

“They also don’t have any value. No power, no status, just a beggar on the street when I found them all those years ago. You could say I only made such a deal because I pitied their pathetic existence.”

‘If this guy keeps talking, I might just have to kill him.’

Time stood still in that room for a moment, the ending of the song playing from the radio the only indicator that the realm was still moving around them.

“I’m waiting~” Alastor sung, both demons locking eyes with each other across the room instensly.

As Lucifer weighed the consequences, a firm line set on his lips as he nodded. "Very well, Alastor," he said, extending a hand towards the demon. "We have a deal."

Their hands met in a firm shake, and as their fingers intertwined, a surge of dark energy crackled between them. Wisps of shadow and flame danced around their clasped hands, swirling around the duo.

Alastor was lost in a maniacal fit of laughter, as large eyes and symbols danced around him. That smile on his lips changed, as lines of thread locking his teeth together, as if someone had forcefully stitched that grin in place.

The air itself seemed to tremble with the force of their agreement, and the room pulsed with an otherworldly energy. The very fabric of reality seemed to warp and bend around them as the terms of their pact solidified.

Suddenly, you burst into the room, your eyes widening in fear as you saw the two demon’s hands entwined. You placed a hand to your mouth in shock, as you realized exactly what they were doing.

“Oh, no no no NO!” You cried hoarsely against the loud rushing wind, pushing you against the wall. What kind of deal was Lucifer making?! 

With a final burst of darkness, the pact was sealed, and both demons drew back. Alastor’s eyes gleamed with newfound power. His aura crackled with renewed strength, and the demon’s grin widened with satisfaction.

His eyes landed on you, a twisted smirk on his lips as he vanished in a plume of smoke. The intensity of it causing your eyes to water, and to fall into a fit of coughs.

The echoes of their agreement lingered in the air in a mixture of green and gold sparks of energy. Lucifer stood alone in the room, before he took a step backwards, stumbling slightly as you reached him. 

Taking his arm, you yank him out of the room, into the hallway. You scan over his figure, your heartbeat quickening as you search for any kind of injuries.

“What did you do? You didn’t make a deal for your soul, did you?!” You cried in panic, your hands on both sides of Lucifer’s face as he blinked away the fog from behind his eyes.

“Of course, I didn’t.” Lucifer muttered between your palms, “I simply gave him some power that he can go fuck off with for the rest of eternity.”

“But.. he c-could—oh, why would you do that?! That was so stupi—”

Lucifer quickly wrapped his fingers around your forearms, shaking you gently to get you to look at him. The slits of his pupils trained intently on your look of distraught.

“For you!” He growled, and you slammed your mouth shut. His breath was ragged, his lips downturned into a painful frown as he watched your lip begin to quiver.

“I made a deal to exchange your soul for a little power, because I cannot bare seeing you suffer any longer. Do you get that? I walked into your bedroom, to find you bruised and in tears. Over what, spilled milk?!”

“I can take it, I've been taking it.” You cried, arms shaking as you fidgeted in his hold. Shame clawing at your throat. Why did you have to be so fucking useless when it came to things like this?

“No! Stop that. Stop lying to me! That ‘everything is fine and dandy’, when it’s not. I’m the goddamn King of Hell, and I can’t even protect you because you refuse to let anyone prove that you matter.”

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, head leaning into your shoulder as he took a deep breath. Your scent easing his anger slowly as he sunk into your embrace.

“You matter so much to me, you and Charlie. If I have to make a deal with a douchebag like him, to save your soul, then so be it. I don’t care what he takes from me.” 

Tears spilled from your cheeks, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You both fell to your knees, and it was your turn to lean into his embrace. Your shoulders shook as you sobbed into his chest.

You were finally free from that monster. He couldn’t hurt you anymore, couldn’t lay a finger on you without consequence. Yet, your tears were also of sadness. You had tried so hard to prevent this, to prevent Lucifer from being selfless and allowing Alastor to win. 

You felt hands gently rubbing at your back, a soothing motion that quelled your quivering figure slightly. It was so warm, like laying in front of a lively fireplace. You wanted to stay there forever.

You were so tired. The mental exhaustion that had been plaguing your mind all these months finally slamming into you, and you lay there limp against his embrace.

“Please.. please don’t cry. I love you, I love you.” Lucifer whispered softly, his voice cracking as he pulled you deeper into his hold. He kept repeating those words, ‘I love you’, as he placed soft kisses against your forehead.

You felt the soft touch of feathers graze against your ears, and cracked open an eye to see Lucifer’s wings engulfing the both of you. They nestled into you, rubbing against your cheek softly, lulling you into a sleepy daze.

“I’ve got you, I promise.” Lucifer whispered into your ear. “You’re safe, you’re loved, I'm so sorry.” 

You placed a soft kiss to his collarbone, and snuggled deeper into his chest. Thankfully, no one was around to bother the two of you as you sat on the floor in the hall.

Just five minutes. That’s all you needed, five minutes basking in his warmth, in his soft words of affection. Five minutes to promise yourself you’d never let him do something like this again.

And maybe, everything would be alright. 

you guys 😭 i made sure this fic was cooked, damnit!! A little more fast-paced than usual, but I hope you can forgive me for that. i also could not settle on what kind of deal alastor wanted to make, so i blind drew out of a hat. i just wanted to bring in a little drama, and it’s hard when one of them is can be easily bodied haha

i honestly have to stop telling yall how long I think my fics will be bc i said “oh i want this to be as long as artist!reader pt. 4”, yet it’s roughly 6-7k over it someone kill me

let me know what you think 🫶

[Lucifer] taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #lucifer #alt title: you’re the rizzler this time

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 

and then satoru wins. 

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 

and then you remember. 

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do. 

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 

his breath hitches. 

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort. 

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow. 

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 

finally, for once, you’re enough. 

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

#teepods.writings #fics. #geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #geto angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru angst #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[nouvxllev]

skill issues

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x G!p!Reader

Summary: in which you got reeled into a bandwagon of a fps game by mindy, anika, and chad.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: smut. just pure smut.

a/n: i just love the idea of tara carpenter being a clingy partner (also my first time writing just a chapter full of smut.)

masterlist.

The clock ticked midnight. Probably even pass that. Actually, you didn't know anymore. Whatever was on your mind was completely erased and replaced by tiny pixels moving in your screen.

Ever since you've joined Tara's friend group, you've also been reeled into a bunch of activities they do on a daily basis. To binge watching scary movies you've begged them not to drag you in, to playing games they recommended to you.

You regret participating in the latter.

It's not like you were having fun, hell, you were having too much fun with this simple FPS mobile game they pulled you in, but the deep dark circles under your eyes were starting to show and you don't really eat anything except for the meals Tara cooks for you. Which are greatly appreciated by a kiss.

"Y/n, what the fuck!? I told you to cover me!" Mindy yelled over your headphones. Actually, it was Tara's headphones desperately lent over to you after days of quiet shouting that didn't really help.

You crouched in reply, knowing Mindy was spectating your character.

You killed, not one, not two, not even four people, but six at once in a group! 3 headshots and 3 body kills. You were pretty proud of yourself, honestly. You just started the game a few weeks ago and you're only getting better and better, you wanted to brag to Tara but she was fast asleep beside you. She was always beside you whenever you play those games with the group, cuddling you as you hold your phone up in the air, but she always ends up falling asleep when you do.

Chad laughs over his mic, "damn, we should've invited Y/n a long time ago. She's good at this game."

You laugh in response, bringing your voice to a whisper. "Even I didn't know I had this in me."

Ever since you and Tara finally made it official, you packed your things and said good riddance to your home and lived together with Tara. It was unexpected, even she was surprised by the spontaneous decision, but the two of you were happy in paradise. Not until you got dragged into the whole 'gaming with those two dipshits™ (by Tara Carpenter, of course.)'

"Anika—! Anika—Wait, shit Anika!" You scream, regrettably, while shooting the opposing team down. Obviously, the luck you had earlier had worn out and you were now staring down at your dead character, groaning.

"I didn't know they were there!" Anika apologized.

"Skill issue." Mindy chimed, you could tell she was leaning back in her chair, looking smug.

"Definitely." Chad blurted, a huff of air he let out.

You rolled your eyes. "Those who didn't carry the team with their 6-kill streak should actually shut up." You went back to the home screen after gg'ing the other team

"Another round?" You exclaimed, and the others cheerfully agreed in the background.

You forgot, for a split second, you were beside one of the most lightest sleepers in the world; your marvelous girlfriend Tara Carpenter. Someone could breathe in her vicinity and she'd almost immediately wake up. Which is why she's staring you down, burning holes in your neck, unimpressed look on her face.

"Y/n," she groaned, "I thought you'd be done by now."

You turned to look at her, and you could only hope it was the darkness fooling your eyes since Tara looked like she was about to scream if not for her reminding herself that you were her girlfriend.

You muted your mic, "One more round, I promise."

"You always say that." She whispered, her arms wrapping around your waist as you were sitting up and you almost melted in her arms, a sigh you let out.

You let your other hand let go of your phone and let your hand relax on her head, soothing her worries of you being on the verge of being one of those mentally unstable gamers who discarded their whole entire life.

Tara was still awake, you could tell by how she tilted her head slightly to look up at you and back to whatever game it is you were so engrossed in.

It was only a few seconds later before Mindy, Anika, and Chad were screaming into the mic and telling eachother to "defend, defend, defend!" or just curse at eachother.

And you, of course, was just resting in paradise while your girlfriend watches over you with half-lidded eyes. But you could tell she was trying to be awake.

You were getting into that headspace where your luck with getting kills increased, and damn were you so happy you could basically convince yourself you were the next top player at this game.

That was until you fumbled over a sniper shot, your finger slipping and your character dying. Your friends were yelling, laughing, but you couldn't focus. Not when Tara's hand was placed firmly on top of your cock.

You froze in place, your eyes, not focused on the screen anymore, but focused on somewhere in the darkness of your room. Her fingers tracing lazy circles around your clothed bulge, only getting larger the more she teases you.

You muted your mic, your hands clutching your phone as you suck in a moan. "Tara, wait, I'm—"

"—Playing?" She finished, looking up at you with her doe-eyes you knew you could never resist. "I'm sure you can play perfectly fine." She replied, her fingers sliding into the waistband of your shorts. You ultimately regretting, and thanking, that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

You were big, you haven't measured it yourself, but Tara worshipped it like it was (and is) so that was enough for confirmation. The tip of your cock was immediately leaking with pre-cum, and it didn't help when Tara kept stroking it, taking her time to graze her thumb along the head.

"Aren't you going to continue playing?" She looked at you, doe eyes and all as if she wasn't giving you the most perfect and maddening handjob you've ever received.

There was something in her voice, something that made you go fucking insane. And something that made you click that respawn button, playing it off as if nothing was happening down below.

You were desperately trying to get a kill, the amount of times you've pressed that damn respawn button was embarrassing. But how could you focus when the most prettiest girl was wrapping her warm lips around the tip of your dick, her hands taking care of the inches that wasn't in her mouth. Yet.

She removed her mouth away from your cock, a soft whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact, but then she adjusted her position. Her body going in between your thighs as she spreads them apart.

You almost, almost, went to heaven when she immediately reattached her soft lips to your dick and slowly started to go deeper.

It was almost pathetic how your hips bucked and your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

And only a few seconds passed until she was bobbing her head up and down on your cock, her free hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Fuck, that turned you on even more.

You contemplated throwing the game, hell, even your phone, but Tara dug her perfectly manicured nails into your thighs when you were starting to put your phone down.

"Y/n, you're getting out of your game!"

"Noticed."

"I bet 20 bucks she's getting laid by Tara, right now."

The three of them, in order, Chad, Anika, and Mindy all teasing you for getting your dick sucked in the middle of the game. But you didn't care, at all. You didn't have enough trust in yourself to unmute and to deny all sayings, that were 100% true by the way, without having to hold back a moan.

"Fuck, Tara..." You manage to say in a whimper, your hand, which was supposed to be playing the game, was grabbing a handful of Tara's hair. Helping her take in what's left of you, and soon enough, her nose reached your chest, gagging a little bit in the process.

You were going crazy.

It was then you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed her hair, a bit more forcefully, and started to shove yourself back and forth into her mouth. Your hips bucking and gradually getting speed. You could see how her eyes and jaw widened to take more of you. Spit and pre-cum dripping all over her mouth as she looked at you, tears staining her eyes while she closed them whenever she hit the base, gagging all over your cock.

You can feel your legs begin to shake, your head throwing back and your eyes rolling. But that didn't stop you from absolutely railing Tara's mouth against your dick until you've emptied yourself inside of her, forcing her to swallow all of your load.

A minute passed before you slowed down your movements, pulling an exhausted Tara out of your cock. She looked at you dumb, your own cum smeared all over her lips as a grin adorned her abused lips.

"I guess we can say I'm better than that stupid game you're always playing." She rasped, her voice hoarse.

"You did this because you were... jealous of me playing a game?" You chuckled, clearly out of breath. It was cute if you weren't so turned on by the fact Tara was looking at you like that.

She brought her hand up to her mouth, wiping away the excess cum with her thumb and licking it off. "I just wanted to tease you, baby."

You thought that was the end of it, not until Tara threw your phone and headphones away and started to climb on top of you, your still hardened cock right on top of her clit. You didn't even notice she wasn't wearing anything underneath as well until now.

"I'll get you a new one—" she breathed, "I promise. Just, please." She whimpered, god, fuck, you were going insane. "Just fuck me."

And that was everything you needed you hear.

You immediately flipped her around, "Y/n, what the FUCK!—" she screamed as you drilled your cock into her, your hips pulling out your dick and fully slamming it back into her pussy. A broken moan coming out of her lips.

"Shit... Tara, you're driving me crazy." Was all you could mutter before you went faster, your hands going to her hips to hold her steady, and your eyes were focused on your cock easily sliding in and out of her puffy folds, taking all of you at once while Tara could only moan, a new freshly coat of cum taking over your dick.

The way she squeezed around you, milking your cock for all it's worth, made you dizzy and your head start to spin. But that didn't stop you from completely destroying her bit by bit, aiming to break her down.

You pulled her closer to you, your hands going up to her shoulders and aggressively ramming her body against your shaft as if it wasn't so deep enough already. Tara couldn't say, mutter, or even speak a single sentence at this point.

You were fucking her dumb, and shit you loved it.

Your hands slithered up from her shoulders to her neck, lightly choking her before turning her head to you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby. So gorgeous and perfect." You muttered in her ear, every word coming to a hard thrust as Tara's mouth opened, attempting to say something but only coming out as a pathetic moan. "You wanna be fucked like a slut? Be fucked dumb out of your mind?"

Sliding your hands on her back, you pressed down firmly to create the perfect arch as her head was buried into the soft mattress, her hands curling up into a ball as she sobbed with pleasure. You can hear her moaning your name over and over again, screaming and sobbing muffled by the soft pillow under her.

"Answer me, Tara."

"Yes, please!" She pleaded, "God, oh my god." She gulped, her head falling back as she reached her second orgasm, her walls clamping down on your cock and cum dripping down from her abused and assaulted pussy.

Her legs gave up, but you didn't. You continued to ram into her, without a care that she was near peak exhaustion and her sobs were becoming more frequent. Your freehand that wasn't pressing down on her back going over to her clit, overstimulating her.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you groaned, "Tara..."

"Cum'n me." She said, breathless, "please. Please, please, please, please—"

After that last plead, you came in her. Your body still thrusting into Tara as you lean towards her, "I love you. I love you so much, my favorite girl." You muttered, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and lips as she breathed for air. But that sweet moment didn't stop you from resuming to pound into her as if it was your last day on earth.

You kept your cock inside of her, pistoning it in and out as you stretched her pussy till it's limit. Until it recognized the shape of your dick, which, you succeeded. The both of you continued until Tara reached her actual peak of exhaustion and collapsed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Tara woke up, she was sore. Sore as fuck. Everything up and down from her head to toe was just relentless pain everywhere. That is, until she turned her head to see you just gazing at her. Softly. As if you didn't ruin her to pieces just hours before.

"Hey," you greeted her, a smile gracing your lips. Tara didn't realize, but you drew her a bath the second she passed out and took care of her yourself. Even changed her to her favorite outfit whenever she just wanted to lay around.

Tara smiled. Despite her sore legs, her sore everything actually, she still managed to cling onto you like a koala. Her arms crushing you as you hugged her back. "Hey." She whispered in your ear, kissing you gently. "Thanks, by the way. For taking care of me." She hugged you even tighter, which you reciprocated.

The two of you sat there for a few minutes, basking in eachothers presence and warmthness. Until you broke the silence. "Tell me the real reason." You pulled back from Tara's tight hug. (You tried to, she was unbudging.)

"I was." She raised an eyebrow, which you also reciprocated.

You chuckled. "I've been your girlfriend and bestfriend for a total of 3 years, Tara. You can't fool me."

She could almost roll her eyes right now if she wouldn't regret it later. "We haven't had sex in a while." She confessed, avoiding your eye contact. "Like, a whole month."

The adorableness there was to Tara Carpenter, the amazing girl you're blessed with, was beyond you. "You could've told me, Tara." You tucked a loose strand between her ear, "you know I like talking with you. Especially about something personal, or maybe something about in our relationship."

"I didn't know how to like," she paused, "really, really, express it." She explained, "also I couldn't since you were on that damn video game for weeks now!"

Yeah, you had to blame yourself for that. Or maybe the crew. "I solemnly swear to not play that game. Well, atleast that often." You held up your pinky, making a pinky promise that you always, always never broken in your life.

Tara chuckled, taking your pinky into hers. "Also your phone has been buzzing like crazy for the last few minutes."

"It's just Mindy bragging about she got rich because she was betting over our sex life."

"What!?" The younger Carpenter screamed.

"Don't worry too much about it." You shrugged it off. "Just a skill issue." You joked.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: just needed to get this off my brain. idea popped into my head one random day and i've been thinking about it actually doing something about it, and it's probably something i need to do to take of my writers block!!

#tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega

[lialacleaf]

A Touch Too Personal

Chapter 1

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: You had a crush on Ghost since you started working for Price in communications, but the gruff, reserved Lieutenant only acknowledged your existence on the job. That starts to change with a simple, thoughtful gift.

Warnings: Fluff, Simon is bad at processing emotions, past trauma

Chapter 2

You cared deeply about every single one of your teammates. It didn’t matter that you were sitting in an office talking to them over the radio, you were still providing them with intel and directions that kept them alive.

They were like a second family, and so Task Force 141 slowly began to feel like having a lot of older brothers.

Johnny was your go to partner in crime when it came to making mischief, and you knew he was always down for a good prank.

Kyle on the other hand was good for having deep conversations and was the one you always went to for advice.

Ghost…well ghost was a bit different. Your feelings towards him weren’t exactly that of a sibling. Maybe it was because he was more reserved than the others, a mystery or puzzle that you couldn’t quite figure out, but you couldn’t help but feel warm inside on the rare occasion that his intense gaze did linger on you.

Which lead to your current dilemma.

Every time you went home, you made sure to bring one of the boys a gift when you returned to base.

Being that Price was like a father figure, you brought him a handcrafted mug from your hometown’s local pottery festival. Soap had gotten a pocket knife with his call sign engraved on it, and Gaz had received a baseball cap with a hand stitched 141 on the side in his favorite color.

However, now it was Ghost’s turn, and you were at a loss. What would he even like to have? You knew he had an array of tactical gear, you’d seen him knit pick through it on occasion, but you didn’t know enough about working in the field to know kind of tools he’d like. He had so many knives already, that it felt redundant to get him another.

What on earth were you supposed to give this man?

“Maybe you could make this Ghost fella something yourself?” Your mother suggested as you sat in your parents living room to ponder the issue.

Your mother liked Ghost’s nickname, and laughed whenever you brought it up. You could only assume she was picturing a little boy in a Scream costume, and you had to admit that was a little funny. Ghost was the only one to not have shared his real name with you, and thus always ended up being teased by your family, not that he was aware of that.

“Like what?” You asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m stopping by the craft store, how about you come with me instead of sulking in the living room?”

~

You watched your mother peruse through the holiday decorations and shook your head. That woman was amassing quite the Christmas village collection.

You wandered through the store with dwindling hope until you saw it. It was in the fabric section that you found the most perfect pattern for your Lieutenant.

The fabric had a black background, with white Ghosts all over it. You picked up the roll with a brilliant smile on your face, and ran over to one of the fabric department employees.

“I need some of this,” you said, giddy and bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“How much do you want?” The woman asked, preparing her scissors.

Ghost was a pretty large man, and you took a moment to think about just how much fabric you were going to need.

“Uhhh, a lot.”

~

“Lass! How was the family?” Johnny asked, pulling you in for a tight hug as you pulled your luggage into your room on base.

“It was good, ate a lot, took my cousins shooting, family stuff,” you said with a grin. “I gotta show you something,” you insisted, pulling him inside your room.

“Oh? What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“You know how I always bring back a surprise?” You began, a grin on your face.

“Who’s the lucky winner?” He chucked.

“You tell me.” You beamed at him as you pulled out the larger than life knot-tie blanket you’d made, and Johnny’s jaw dropped.

“You did not!” He gasped, chuckling at he inspected it. One side was the Ghost fabric you’d found, and the other was made from the softest army green material you could find. In the top corner. You’d stitched in a small British Flag patch, and each corner has a sandbag sewn in.“You made him a bloody weighted blanket? What gave you that idea?” He asked.

“We’ll I couldn’t find anything I thought he’d like at first, but then I saw the fabric and it just fell together so perfectly!”

“Oh man, I would kill to see his reaction to this,” Johnny said, giving you a pat on the shoulder.

“You say that like we ever get to see his reaction to anything,” you stated. You’d never actually seen him without some sort of face covering.

Johnny tisked softly and shrugged. “Alright, you got me there,” he admitted. “He’s in his room now, probably as good a time as any.”

You couldn’t help but grin broadly. “Perfect.”

~

You felt a lump form in your throat as you approached Ghost’s door. You knew it was just the nerves that came along with your little crush on the Lieutenant, but it still made the task at hand a little daunting.

You took a deep breath, knocking softly on the door. Maybe you should have wrapped it for him. What if he didn’t like it? How were you supposed to react if he just brushed you off.

The door opened before you could rethink your decision. It always came as a shock how large Ghost was, no matter how many times you stood mask to face.

“You’re back.”

You felt your heart rate spike. He had noticed you were gone? Had noticed you? Of course he had noticed, it was his job to notice, it didn’t mean anything.

“Yeah,” you said, waiting for him to ask how your trip was, or if you were glad to be back. He didn’t.

“I got you something!” You said suddenly, holding the folded blanket out to him, and his entire body seemed to freeze. He stared at it for a moment or two, as if he were slowly processing the object.

“What is it?”

Your smile faltered. “It’s a weighted blanket,” you said as he inspected it as if it were some kind of trick. “It’s a weighted blanket,” you said as he took it carefully from your hands.

“Where’d you get it?”

Shit, he hates it.

“I- Uhm. I made it,” you admitted, your cheeks blazing. This was stupid. You were stupid.

He looked between you and the blanket in his hands, and nodded. “Thanks,” he said before stepping back into his room and closing the door.

You pressed your lips together firmly in an attempt to not start bawling. You walked off on shaky legs, taking deep breaths. At least he hadn’t told you he didn’t want it.

~

Simon sat on his bed, his thumb brushed over the small flag patched into the corner of the blanket. The fact that you had made him a gift by hand had his stomach in knots. He knew about your little gift tradition with the rest of 141, but he hadn’t expected to be included, nor did he expected you’d go to such trouble. The two of you weren’t even very close.

He swallowed thickly as tears pricked his eyes. This was the nicest thing any teammate had ever given him.

He brought the fabric to his face and gave it a deep whiff. It smelled fresh, like laundry detergent. You must have washed it before you gave it to him.

Simon spread the blanket carefully over his cot, admiring how the fabric felt against his hands. It didn’t catch on his calloused fingers, and wasn’t too fluffy.

It was large too, as if you’d taken his massive size into account. He was certain he could easily caving himself in it. His bottom lip wobbled slightly, and it was an effort to hold his tears at bay.

That night, Simon slept soundly, wrapped in your carefully crafted gift, and you were the only thing on his mind.

AN: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco / Chapter 11

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Relationship issues, arguments. Angst. Toxic behavior. Johnny is struggling. Everyone is going through it. Johnny struggles.

"No contact?!" Johnny chokes, and you hesitate on the other end of the line, sharp breath rattling through the speaker phone. 

“My… my therapist thinks it would be good, to try it. For thirty days. Just to see how I feel.” Johnny’s fingers stretch across the front pocket of his pants. 

Thirty days? 

You’ve already been gone five, and it feels like five years.

He balks. No. No, this. This can't be. You have to be home, with them. Where you belong. Where they can fix it. 

“Ye… no, I thought… I thought this was just a break?” He doesn’t recognize his voice. It’s ragged and torn to shreds, and now fear makes it tremble. 

What does this mean? 

“It is, it is. I just… I have to try this.” You sound as sad, as fucked up as he does, and he wants to scream, throw the phone against the wall, say screw it all to hell and go over to your rental, bang on the door until you let them inside. 

“Of course, darling.” Simon soothes, and Johnny stares at him like he's lost his grasp on reality. Of course? Of course?! “We understand, we… we can do that. We’ll do whatever you want.” 

“No.” Johnny cuts in, he can’t stop himself, can’t control his mouth. He can’t agree to this, to not talking to you, or seeing you for thirty days. He can’t do it. “I-“

“ Johnny.” 

“Johnny-“ You both say his name at the same time. Yours is a plea. Simon’s is cautionary, finger seeking the mute button, cutting you out of the conversation for a split second, long enough for him to utter a warning. 

“Do not push her on this. We need to let her decide right now. She’s in control.” 

“Hello?”

“We’re here.” Simon assures you, unmuting the phone. “We understand. No contact, thirty days. Will you reach out, afterwards?” 

“I… I will, I promise.” 

“And you’ll take care of yourself?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, a gulp. Simon’s façade cracks, enough that Johnny can see the fear that lurks there, the worry. 

“Ye-yeah. I am. I will.” 

“Will you come to bed?”

Johnny’s thumbs press together, overlapping where his fingers stay knitted tight, grasping onto one another like he’s holding onto himself for dear life.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in and then releases it slowly through his nose. It’s a self-soothing technique, one he’s seen you do a million times. But once he’s done, his response is no less acidic. “I cannae sleep.”

Silence is his answer, until-

“Johnny.” Simon’s forearm wraps across his shoulders, pulling him backwards from the stool and into the cushiony warmth of his chest, heat burning into his back. Simon’s always been a furnace, a giant, weighted, heated blanket, his touch one of safety, security. Care.

But right now, all it feels like is anguish.  

“Si.” He croaks, tears welling up behind his eyes. “I cannae do this any longer. I cannae… I need her back.”

“We need to be patient, and respect-“

“Respect?” Johnny blurts, incredulous. “No, No, I… We should be there, right now. We should be standing outside her door, we should be fightin’ for her, nae sitting ‘ere, waiting. Showin’ her how much she means; how sorry we are.” The warmth pulls away, an exasperated sigh blowing across the back of his neck.

“I’m not having this conversation again.” Simon is curt, growing cold, and it fuels the burning rage building inside Johnny’s stomach.

“Of course, because why would ye? It’s already settled in yer mind, isn’t it? That we just sit here, and wait, and let her slip away because ye coudnae keep yer mouth shut!” He’s said the same thing a thousand different ways over these last three weeks. Dressed Simon up and down six ways to Sunday over it, different verbiage each time.

The conversation always ends the same.

“Can you forgive me?” 

“Of course I can but I’m still mad at ye.” 

The anger foils away, ebbing into sadness, despair, and Johnny’s sight goes black when he buries his face in his hands.

“I miss her.” He whispers to the floor. The warmth returns and wraps him in a snug embrace, soft words hummed against the shell of his ear, each one punctuated with a kiss.

“I know, I know you do. I do too.”

“You nearly got yourself blown up!” Simon roars, and Johnny nearly flinches, steeling himself against his partner’s anger. “You can’t be makin’ stupid decisions like that. You jeopardized-“ 

“I knew what I was doin’. Dinnae question me, ye dinnae know anything about the tech behind those explosives, and ye know it.” He stands a little straighter, indignant, insulted, and Simon’s eyes narrow, before squinting, tension shoving his shoulders down in a slump. 

This isn’t like them. They’re always in lock step. One unit. One person, two hearts.  

The cot creaks beneath Simon’s weight, elbows against his knees. 

“Johnny, what’s going on?” 

“What do ye mean?” Dirty, cheap laminate flooring stares up at him, patterns in the grit swirling together like sand. 

“You’re not yourself. Price mentioned-“ 

“Ye and Price talkin’ ‘bout me?” Unsettled anger rattles him, immediate demand rising through his blood. Simon holds his hand up. 

“No. He was concerned, said you were a little rash the other day, on the recon. Asked if everything was alright.” He blinks. Blinks over and over, tries to quash the surging agony, the upheaval of his stomach. He fights it, tries to breathe through it, tries to stop it in his tracks, but a big grip wraps around his wrist, and tugs. 

He’s settled into Simon’s lap without another word, his nose to his neck, fingers stroking through his mohawk. 

“It’s going to be alright. You’re alright. We’re going to get her back, love.” 

“I cannae do this. Ye dinnae know-“ 

“I know.” He squeezes him, calming him, and Johnny melts a little, sharp blade of the pain turning dull. “I know that the best thing we can do right now is be patient, and respect what she’s asked us to do. When she’s ready, she’ll let us know, and we’ll do everything we can, to try to fix it. To make it better.” 

“I feel like there’s a hole-“ His hand rubs his chest, over and over, until the skin burns. “Like there’s a piece missing. I dinnae think I can do it, without her.” His voice breaks, and Simon’s attempt to calm him comes out like a strangled cry. “It hurts, Si.” 

“We won’t. We just have to be patient, Johnny. We have to. We have to show her we can do it.” Simon murmurs, and then they both slip into a sad silence, Johnny huffing through his tears against Simon’s chest until he’s dragging them both down into the little cot, escaping into the comfort of uneasy sleep. 

The flat is too quiet.

Lately, he’s been putting your favorite movies on in the small hours of the morning. Simon sleeps in now, restless until the sun starts to come up, and then he finally sinks beneath pull of dreams, or nightmares, whichever comes first.

So, Johnny curls up on the couch by himself, with your favorite tea, flip flopping between the rotation of movies that you always had rolling in the background, when you were painting, when you were cooking, or even reading.

But today, he paces. Back and forth from the bedroom, the kitchen, to the art room, the one you left half barren, the one that still holds nearly finished paintings, dried tubes of paint, stiff bristled brushes, long discarded for new ones, but not thrown away.

“I’m going to the gym, want to come?” Simon is hovering just outside the door, brows fixed together. He hasn’t stepped foot in here, Johnny has noticed, not since you left nearly a month ago. In fact, he avoids this room like the plague.

“No, ye go on.”

“You sure?” His head cocks in consideration, and then he nods.

“Yeah. Love ye.”

“Love you too. Be good.”

“Where the bloody hell have ye been?” Johnny seethes, arms crossed. Their half-eaten plates still sit cold on the table, mocking him since Simon left in the middle of the meal an hour ago. 

“Out. For a walk.” The hoodie comes up and over his shoulders, and Johnny catches a whiff of it.

Cigarette smoke.

“A walk, eh? Ye out walkin’, and smoking?”

“Johnny.”

“Dinnae Johnny me, ye’ve been smoking, I can smell it.”

“I don’t want to do this right now.” He snaps, turning his back, heading into the bedroom, the bathroom.

“Ye dinnae want to do what?”

“This. Fight. Argue.” The shower clicks on, steam slowly building from the floor as Simon shucks his joggers, his boxers, Johnny’s eyes struggling to stay fixed on his partner’s face.

“I’m not arguing, I… I dinnae understand how ye can be so casual about this, it’s-“ 

“What am I supposed to do?” Simon turns on him, still angry, still hurt from their conversation earlier. It brews beneath the surface like a finely veiled stormed, just barely held back. “Lose my head? Fall apart?” 

“I dinnae, talk to me?” Simon’s jaw clenches. Every scar on Simon’s back speaks to him, tells him stories, corroborates his witness accounts. Johnny wishes he could take them away; wishes he could kiss them. 

But Simon feels so far away now. He’s felt miles away since you left, since the bed slept three, table slept three, couch held three. 

“I’m right here, Si. I’m here.”

Johnny knows what he’s doing is wrong. He’s fully self-aware, but completely out of control. His legs carry him down the street on autopilot, barrage of requests and demands from his rational self trying to break through the encasement where he’s locked them away.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t. 

He can’t help it. He can’t do this… anymore. It’s killing him. It’s killing Si.

He worries it’s killing you.

He tells himself he’s just going to check on you, make sure you’re okay. He’s not going to bother you, just make you’re alive. He’s not going to stay, he’s just going to say hi, ensure you’re safe, healthy, and then leave.

If you even open the door.

Guilt, anxiety, fear all turns over in his stomach, freezing through his blood as he climbs the stairs to your long term rental. He just needs to see you, needs lay eyes on you, just once, and it will all be okay. He’ll be okay, once he knows you’ll be okay.

Simon is going to be so bloody pissed. He grimaces. He knows there will be hell to pay. That Simon will be enraged, disappointed. That he’ll be upset.

They made a promise. He made a promise. 

And now he’s going to break it, just like that.

He stands outside your door for too long, contemplating. Trying to sift through every decision he’s ever made, that led him to this point. He could still turn around, still go home, even though his finger is itching to ring the bell, a burning desire searing through his mind, urging him forward until his forehead is thunking softly against the wood, eyes closing.

Darling.

He can still see your face, your smile. The ways your eyes light up, the way your voice sounds when you say his name.

“I need ye, we need ye.” He whispers to no one, and then his finger presses the button, breath holding in his chest.

A few seconds pass. He strains to listen, latching onto the sound of footsteps inside, the click of a lock, the creak of the hinges, and then the door opens wide, revealing you on the other side.

“Darling.” You’re haunted, a flicker of a memory, a sharpened shadow sawing into the soft matter of his brain. You blink like you're trying to clear your vision, like you're struggling to see him, and he offers you an uneasy smile, something nervous and unsettled. You shake your head, mouth open in surprise, confusion, eyes wide.

“Johnny.”

#peaches writes #dead disco #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley x reader #simon riley #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 22.4k (please take your time while reading this)

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, nervousness, fluff, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, mentions of vomit, drinking, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, sexual tension, smut, a lot of it (i won't spoil it)

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: You realize what you're feeling for Eddie, and your relationship finally shifts, as you finally let go. You finally let yourself go.

A/N: This chapter... took it's time... Its long, but IT'S WORTH IT I PROMISE. I hope you all take your time to read it, and enjoy it. I enjoyed writing it so and I hope the feelings I tried to put into words can be felt through the screen.

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

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PART 6

You felt like you were floating on air.

Your limbs were completely relaxed, your muscles felt as if they were gelatin on your body, and you were warm. Slowly gaining back your consciousness as you stirred slightly in bed, groaning as you stretched your arm forward, over the comforters that were hugging your body tightly, providing you with their heat. 

Slowly, your senses started coming back, touch first, feeling the soft texture of the comforter, hugging it tightly against you. But then, your sense of smell came back, picking up a sweet scent. A sweet yet manly scent. And that’s when your hearing came back, soft snores that were very close to you, extremely. So your eyes shot open.

And your sense of sight came back.

Eddie’s face was facing yours, but he was still asleep, comforter over his body as well and your heart and breathing stopped. The tension came back to your muscles in an instant, as you felt your stomach begin to contract in itself, and your fingertips became cold from the nervousness, from the overwhelming realization of what happened yesterday.

Oh god, yesterday.

He caressed you, and you let him. He kissed you, and you let him. He touched you, and you let him. He made you feel good, and you let him. You let your friend touch you. You let a friend touch you in a way that only happens intimately, only because you were curious. You took a sharp intake of breath to forbid yourself from screaming as nausea invaded your stomach.

You needed to get out. How can you face him? How can you possibly face him after he– Your head began to spiral, maniacally. Your legs shifted and your eyes widened when you felt your wetness still there, having not changed or cleaned yourself from what happened last night. Another wave of embarrassment washed over you remembering you fell asleep on him. 

You didn’t even return the favor.

You felt your body heat up at the thought because you didn’t even know if you should have. He did it by his own accord, didn’t he? He just wanted to help you, that’s it, that was it. But, oh god, you moaned. You let your voice out, he heard you moan, without any restraint and– Your blood immediately left your system as you kept remembering the night before.

You moaned his name. 

You had to immediately leave. Your body and your heart cannot take it. You ruined it, everything is ruined, there is no turning back from this. There is no way you can see him eye to eye any longer, because friends don’t do this. No matter how much you are burning at the moment, you can’t take a friend’s help as an advantage. You are despicable, you are horrible, and there’s no way Eddie would forgive you for it.

You looked at Eddie’s face again and you stopped your movements and thoughts. You focused on his steady breaths as soft snores came out from his mouth, which was just partially open. His eyelashes are long, and some strands of his hair were on his face. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest again as you stared at him. His arm was draped over his head, and you could see the tattoos all over his skin. 

Your hand unconsciously reached out and your fingertips touched his bicep, finding the part of the tattoo sleeve where a dragon lays. You were entranced by his art as you looked all over it, mentally taking screenshots of every single trace. You looked back at his face and your hand immediately shifted towards him, your nails gracing his cheek, gently, and you took one of the strands of his hair out of his face.

You felt your face heat up watching him. You won’t deny, ever, that he is gorgeous, probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and not once in your life you thought you would be able to touch someone like him in this way. Not even in your wildest dreams. Yet, it was so easy with him, talking to him, touching him, even kissing him. 

Your fingertips suddenly went to his bottom lip, softly gracing it with your index finger, feeling his hot breath hitting your skin, and you licked your lips not really noticing your movements. You just felt like touching him, and the burning started happening once more. Why was it happening? Why is the heat there? 

But your brain was not cooperating with your body right now. There was a growing need as your fingertip felt the plushness of his lip, a need to taste him again, a need to get closer again, get his arms around you, tightly, holding you and feel yourself tremble against him once more. You wanted more. It seems that’s the only word that is persistent in your head when you’re with Eddie.

More. More. More.

Why wasn’t it enough? Why wasn’t it ever enough? What more can you want? He is your friend, what else could be there that you wanted? And why just him? Why didn’t you feel this heat with Steve or Billy? Why didn’t you feel it with Austin? Why haven’t you been feeling it for every man you crossed paths with since you met Eddie? You had talked to men, be it at the grocery shop, or at a cafe, men working there, or simply greeting you. 

But it’s only with Eddie that you feel this unbearable heat, these flames that just spread like wildfire everytime he touches you, even with just a brush of hands. You can’t remember a time you felt this way for someone else, this hunger that you can’t satiate no matter how much you wait for it to go away.

Your eyes darted downwards, where his pelvic area would be and you gulped heavily as you remembered the night before again. You felt him, and you had enjoyed rubbing yourself on him, even if he didn’t know you were doing it consciously. Your breath picked up as you felt an impulse in your chest, wanting it to move your hand, wanting to explore. Not just his lips, but his shoulders, his bare chest, his back, his legs, and then–

You felt a sharp small pain in your fingertip, making you wince, completely taking you out of your trance and thoughts, out of the cloud that was in your mind, and your eyes darted up again as your hand moved away by instinct only to see brown eyes staring right back at you, and your blood drained once again, as the heat immediately was dampened with a cold bucket of ice water.

“Was I drooling or something?” He questioned with a hoarse morning voice that instantly went to your belly, knotting it up, and your hairs stood on end, embarrassment filling your chest and your brain immediately triggered the flight mode. You immediately threw the comforter off your body, moving away from him, and sitting up quickly. 

Your breathing quickened as you shot up from the bed, only for your limbs to feel like jelly, and you tumbled slightly, Eddie’s eyes widening as he saw the panic setting in your body. He really wished he was the first one to wake up today, because he knew you would probably have a lot of thoughts in your head, just racing uncontrollably. He sat up as you started stammering in your words, looking for your jacket, not realizing in your haze of a panic that it was downstairs.

“I-I should– I should go! I– what– yesterday–” Eddie got up from the bed, wearing the same clothes as last night. After you fell asleep on him, he had moved you so he could lay you on his bed, pulling the comforter over you. He had thought of dressing himself for sleep, but he was afraid you would feel even weirder with him having changed into comfortable clothes when you didn’t have the chance. 

He opted to go to the bathroom real quick to wash his hands and relieve himself, to then come back to his room and then he nestled inside of the bed as well, seeing you sleeping peacefully next to him, and just like you did to him this morning, he had traced your face with his fingers, softly and gently, remembering every twitch your face did.

Last night does feel like a lucid dream to him, and he really cannot believe you had let him touch you like that. He couldn’t believe you had let him touch you in a way he’s been craving for a month now. At first he tried to dismiss it, but now he really can’t deny that everything with you is different, so different. He was changing too, not that you knew about it, nobody knew this change in him.

Now, he knew that a line had been crossed, and that you realize that too, and you’re freaking out about it. He doesn’t want the relationship to be different, but he feared that maybe it was too straightforward to do that to you last night. But he just needed to touch you, he absolutely needed to, and he can’t lie to himself and say he doesn’t want more, because hell, he wants so much more.

But right now,

“Angel, look at me.” He rushed to your side as you kept your gaze down, your panicked eyes trying to look anywhere but him. You shouldn’t have let last night happen, because what if he felt obliged to do that with you? What if he pitied you so badly that he felt like doing it? You can’t bear that embarrassment, not with Eddie.

“I-I’m sorry– I’m your friend and–” You stutter out, feeling the air in your lungs slowly fading as you feel your heart beating in your throat. How were you going to look at him? What does this all mean? Friends don’t do the thing you did yesterday, did they? Your head is a mess, and you just want to run away. 

“Yes, you’re my friend, and sweetheart, yesterday was–” He clenched his eyes tightly, the words in his mouth stinging like a thousand needles on it. “I wanted to let you know that there is nothing wrong with you. You can feel good with someone.”

He was in front of you now as you stood in the middle of his bedroom, still staring at the ground, blinking at his words. Did he read your mind yesterday? How easy are you to read? But what you are failing to notice is that it’s just Eddie the one who can read you like this. He loves that fact. Just as he knows how you’re feeling right now, knowing you need reassurance that everything is okay, even if inside of him there was a storm, wanting to yell that he wanted to actually touch you. He wanted to feel you, hear you, hold you and kiss you, all of it. 

“I– Is…” The lump in your throat made you sound so little, so weak, but you had to make sure, because losing Eddie felt like losing a part of yourself now. The thought felt like a punch to the gut, and you didn’t want it to happen, but how does everything go back to how it was?

“Darling, breathe.” His arms were reaching out to you but not touching you, which you didn’t know if you appreciated or not. Your body was burning with anticipation, but anticipation for what? What exactly were you anticipating? Your head doesn’t know, but when you see his hands, the memory of last night comes back again, but not in a way that makes you want to run away. It is rather making you want to lean closer, let him touch you, graze his skin on yours.

You took a few deep breaths, closing your eyes as you put your palms over your face, completely ashamed for what had transpired last night, but you also felt guilty. Guilty for liking it. Guilty for not regretting it. Guilty for desiring. Guilty for wanting more. Why does this hunger and this fire not satiate? Why is it lingering there? Why doesn’t it go away?

But Eddie didn’t seem like he wanted to run away. He wasn’t kicking you out, and in fact he wanted to talk to you, which made your brain slow down, even for a second, trying to register that he wasn’t going anywhere, and that he didn’t want you to go away either.

“I… Eddie– Yesterday–” 

“It’s okay, look at me…” Could you even do that? Your stomach was twirling, almost in nausea as you even imagined the look in his eyes. Suddenly, you felt your wrists being grabbed, gently, very carefully, and it made you jump slightly. The skin where he was touching was burning, but your heart was so grateful for it, and everything became steady, after feeling like the room was spinning on its axis.

He gulped nervously, taking a step closer to you. The only thing in his mind right now, is for you to be okay. He only wants you to be okay, and for you to be able to look at him. He needed you to look at him again, his heart was aching for it, and his gut was contracting in itself each second you didn’t look up. 

So, he was greedy again, guiding you to slowly pull your hands down, uncovering your face, and he cursed at himself for wanting to pull you in, wanting to hold you in his arms but he has to be patient. He wants you, but he has to do it right. You’re not just anybody. 

Not anymore.

“Look at me Angel… It’s just me.” Your bottom lip shook slightly out of nervousness, but you complied, slowly driving your eyes up. First on his black shirt, then his collar and neck, to then finally land on his brown eyes which were looking at you intensely, with worry, same as yours. You had expected your body to flinch away, to run away even more so than before, but it did the entire opposite. Your body relaxed, your gut turned but it was not nauseating as before, and your brain went blank as he gazed down at you. 

You got lost in his eyes, trying to find the regret of what happened last night, trying to find the slight bit of discomfort, but there was none. There was just reassurance, looking at you like he always did, talking to you like he always did, and that made your body lose some of its tension, Eddie noticing it instantly.

“I– I don’t want everything to be weird– I really don’t want to…” Your eyes were teary now, making Eddie’s heart clench as his grip on your wrists tightened slightly from the emotions he was feeling at seeing you like this. His lips curved up in a soft smile, and he shook his head once.

“It isn’t going to be weird… I wanted to show you that there was nothing wrong with you, and I just– I just wanted to help you learn about yourself, help you trust in your body and sensations.” He wanted to chop his tongue off. He helped you, yes, but he wanted to tell you that he liked it too, even if untouched, he loved it, and if you asked, he would do it again. 

“I–” You felt yourself heat up as embarrassment and shame invaded your mind. “I didn’t… I didn’t do…” You gazed down again, not wanting to look at his face. You didn’t even reciprocate anything to him, you just fell asleep right on his shoulder after he made you feel so blissful, after he made you see stars, after he made you tremble for the first time in the hands of someone else.

Eddie’s heart soared as he listened to you, as he saw that you cared, that you indeed thought about him and how he was feeling. He didn’t even expect you to think about giving something back to him, and his body relaxed as he melted towards you, one of his hands letting go of your wrist to slowly rise up towards your cheek. You didn’t even flinch, but you actually pressed your face slightly onto his fingers, at his touch.

“I didn’t expect it. I didn’t want anything back Angel… I was just caring for you last night, okay?” He did want, but he wasn’t going to say that to you. At least not now, because that is not what you needed. Yet, in your head, there was a question that fell at the tip of your tongue at his words. You looked up at him, locking eyes with him again,  but your mouth didn’t open to voice out what you wanted to ask.

Did he not want anything back because he really didn’t expect it from you, or because he didn’t actually want YOU to give anything back to him?

The thought made your skin grow goosebumps, mind whirling at the thought of some type of rejection. Why did you feel like that? Why did you feel like he just said something hurtful to you? Why did you suddenly feel unwanted? Undesired? 

“And… And us? Does this… make everything–” His palm was now resting on your cheek as he stared down at you, the smile still on his lips, very small, subtle, but yet so emotional and caring, that it made your heart jump at the sight.

“It doesn’t make it awkward… I promise… Which reminds me–” He put his hand down and your other wrist was let go of, making you almost sigh at the loss of contact, wanting to gravitate towards him again. “I don’t think our private dances from yesterday should go unpaid, and as I recall, you make the best fucking pancakes ever, and I’m dying for a chocolate chip one.” 

The tension left your shoulders as he talked, a small smile spreading on your lips, watching him straight up with his arms over his chest. You copied his stance, squinting up at him in defiance which made him raise his eyebrows up, hiding behind some of his messy fringe.

“I believe I never actually ASKED for those dances. You guys were very greedy for just one dollar.” You say and he glared down at you before shooting his arm up, poking you on the side, causing you to flinch and giggle, the butterflies exploding in your stomach, and again, they were not on the nauseating side.

“You make some pancakes or…” You raised a questioning eyebrow at his words.

“Or?”

“I’ll start saying mistaken facts about Harry Potter. Like, for example, Harry Potter and the prisoner of alcatraz was a masterpiece.” You winced at the mistaken title, but you knew he was doing it on purpose. He had let you rant talking about Harry Potter for one whole evening through a video call. He just started asking questions to you, and you didn’t even know that he did that just to hear you talk.

He loved hearing you talk when you were excited, when you were confident in the topic, when you were passionate and loving about it, but he also loved the fact that you cared for his interests too. So one day was Harry Potter, and the next day was Dungeons and Dragons. He had explained to you as easily as possible but you were learning pretty quickly and you retained information like a champ. 

And as he liked to hear you talk, you liked to hear him.

“Okay, I’ll make the pancakes, so shut up.” You say to him with a shake of your head and he grinned widely at you, knowing he got away with what he wanted, which weren’t the pancakes. He got you to loosen up again, and when you turned around to open the door, a sigh of relief escaped his lips, soft and you weren’t able to hear it. 

You tiptoed out of the room, followed by Eddie and you immediately heard the loud snoring from the living room. You giggled while looking back at him and he was just smiling, shaking his head. You walked down the stairs, as quietly as you could, and you saw Robin, now looking up, splayed on the floor over the fluffy carpet as Steve used her tummy as a pillow, in the position of a starfish. 

You covered your mouth as you approached them, trying to hold in the laughter. Eddie was next to you after a second, having retrieved his phone from the kitchen counter, and he pulled up the camera to take a picture of the two people on the floor. He was going to keep this and show his brother, because the little shit idolized Steve for a reason, and he never knew why.

He wanted to break that enchantment.

“I bet they’ll wake up at the smell of food.” You whisper and he smirks, shaking his head.

“Steve needs a bucket of ice water to wake up from a hangover.” You grinned and turned your head to look at him, biting your bottom lip. Eddie had to hold back from swallowing, the blood rushing south immediately.

“Wanna bet?”

“A dollar.” He put his hand inside his front pocket and took out the wrinkled dollar you stuffed in there last night. The memory came back like a flash, making you flush all over as the butterflies turned into hungry wolves.

“Deal.” You immediately turned around, trying to hide away from him, but he had already seen your reaction. His chest puffed with hope as he followed you towards the kitchen, and he was next to you in a second, helping you get everything for the pancakes. 

Then, the scene turned quite domestic, and normal. Way too normal, and easy, as if it were a puzzle just putting itself together in a perfect match. You beat the eggs, he preheated the pan, he poured the flour in, then mixed for you to start making your batch of pancakes, sprinkling the chocolate chips on top. 

“You had to put the chocolate chips inside the batter.” Eddie growled as you shook your head at his whine. You flipped your pancake and looked to your side and up at him.

“Last time I prepared them like this and you didn’t complain.” You say to him, and you remember that afternoon almost everyday. You came with Robin because Steve invited her over, and said that if you wanted to join, that it was okay. You didn’t have any other plans, and the thought of probably seeing Eddie urged you to come over. 

Twenty minutes after your arrival, Eddie and Billy stumbled inside the apartment, groaning as they complained they hadn’t eaten anything for the past 3 hours, and dancing was not helping them. So Robin, sweet Robin, thought it was a great idea to tell them that you prepared killer pancakes.

You cooked 22 pancakes that afternoon.

“It’s because I didn’t see you making them. I was showering and getting myself pretty and presentable.” He says with a teasing smile on his face and you shake your head, putting one of the last pancakes on the plate. 

“Steve, get the fuck up, I smell pancakes.” You grinned widely at Robin’s voice, looking back over your shoulder, Eddie following your motion, putting his fist over his mouth to hold in his laughter as Robin pushed Steve off her and the poor man groaned almost in pain as he sat up. His hair was completely messed up, and Robin’s wasn’t far behind. They had two bird’s nests on their heads.

“Morning.” Eddie says and you look at him, putting your hand out. He raised an eyebrow up at you.

“Pay up.” You say and he scoffs, shaking his head at you.

“I don’t think so. Robin woke up, then made Steve wake– Oh.” You smirked up at him and he bit his bottom lip, yet a smile was on his face as he looked down at you. He definitely felt the change. The bantering before was light hearted, but now, there was this hidden elastic band that was stretching out, slowly, further and further.

“Exactly.” You drifted your eyes towards his lips, just for a second, and then back at his eyes. You were feeling it still, that pooling heat at the bottom of your belly, trying to tell you something which you weren’t sure of. He put his hand into his front pocket again, and slapped the bill on top of your hand. 

“This seems rigged, sweetheart.” He whispered towards you as he put his face closer to yours, glaring at you in a playful manner. Something took over you, something that snapped in your gut, in your mind, a sense of confidence that you never felt before, leaning towards him as well, your face closer to his.

His eyes went wide as you got closer, the tension suddenly rising in between the both of you, not expecting you to mimic his movements at all, but his heartbeat was on his ears, his throat going dry as your breath mixed with his, and he felt the palms on his hands sweating, almost heavily.

“I just outsmarted you.” You leaned back, putting batter onto the pan again, looking as if you hadn’t just turned Eddie into a mess, his mind reeling at how close you got by your own accord, his blood burning into his veins as he kept staring at you, completely dazed. 

Did you even know you did that?

“I need a fucking Advil, or something to end my suffering.” You hear Steve grumpily say with a huff. Eddie snapped out, looking over at his friend, who was now sitting on the couch with an arm over his eyes, probably to avoid the intense light from pouring through his eyelids. He sighed, passing behind you but his greediness got the best of him, and he decided to test the waters.

He put his hands in the small of your back and hips, gently, to push you forward so he could walk between you and the counter, even if he had enough space to do so, but he just needed to touch you. You stiffened slightly, shivers being sent to the tip of your toes, a wave of flames engulfing your entire body as he passed behind you.

And you didn’t see it, but a smirk formed on his lips as he walked away from you.

You took a sharp intake of breath, looking at his broad back, going into the bathroom to probably look for some Advil at Steve’s request. You knew your breath had quickened and that your heart was tugging at your chest, trying to move you towards him, but your thoughts were cut off by Robin who rested her chin onto your right shoulder, looking down at the pan.

“It’s burning.” Your eyes widened, looking at the pancake and flipping it over quickly, and Robin had been right. It was almost black on the other side. You groaned as you heard some steps coming down the stairs. 

“Morning.” You heard Billy say, Robin lifting her head up to look at him, giving him a nod and hoarse ‘morning’ only for her eyes to turn at Eddie’s return and hearing the pill bottle in his hand and a glass of water on the other. He walked towards Steve and Robin followed right behind, trying to snatch the pill bottle from Eddie.

You tipped the last pancake onto the plate, grimacing at it with disgust at the failure as Billy stood next to you, getting hold of it, taking a rough bite making your eyes widen at him.

“Billy, it’s hot!” You say to him with worried eyes and he blows the smoke out up at the ceiling. He swallowed after three bites and shook his head with a wince.

“I just needed food, my stomach is a fucking mess.” You sighed, turning off the heat and putting all the utensils you used in the sink to wash. You grabbed the sponge as you began cleaning, Billy still next to you as he kept eating the burnt pancake. “At least I don’t have a headache like those two.”

You turned your head to see Eddie sighing heavily as he rubbed Steve’s back while sitting next to him, Robin slumped on the arm chair, staring at the ceiling, and Eddie probably trying to make him swallow his vomit, making you wince in disgust again and turn your attention back to the dishes. If Steve barfed, you didn’t really want to see it.

“That’s what you all get for drinking too much.” You say to Billy, which made him chuckle, finishing the pancake that was in his hands. 

“Did you have fun last night?”

You almost dropped the bowl onto the sink at the words that came out of his mouth. Your body went stiff, feeling a cold sweat all over, as your belly turned with nervousness and embarrassment. Did he know? Did he hear? 

“I– Uh…”

“I mean, did you forget about your awful date? You were laughing so I assumed you did.” You gave a sigh out of relief, returning to clean the bowl in your hand. He was talking generally, making your shoulders lose the stiffness once more.

“Yeah, I had fun. Thank you.” You gave him a smile as he took the last piece of pancake into his mouth, and nodded at you, grabbing the plate with a stack of those delicious chocolate chip pancakes you made, heading over towards the group. 

You continued cleaning the utensils which weren’t a lot, to then dry your hands, walking towards them, catching Eddie as he stuffed his face with the third pancake in a row. Steve was looking at him with disgust but Billy was trying to coarse a piece into his mouth. Robin was pitifully eating one, groaning at each bite. 

You grabbed one of your pancakes, and even if the space between the armrest and him was little, you walked towards it, sitting in between. Eddie scooched a little bit, fighting back the grin that wanted to spread on his lips. You, once again, came to him. He bumped his knee against yours as he munched on his pancake, and you reciprocated, bumping it back. 

You giggled as Steve kept trying to push Billy’s pancake away, and the blonde finally gave up, eating the pancake himself, flipping Steve off as he walked to get some water for himself in the kitchen. You finished your breakfast and looked at Robin who was still groaning, her hangover taking all over her body and you sighed.

“We should go. Robin might vomit all over if we stay here a minute longer.” You say, trying to not let your voice sound desperate to stay. Desperate to be here a little bit longer. Desperate to stay with him, just one more minute. You look at Eddie and he sighs, giving you a nod.

“Yeah, Stevie here is not looking good either… Seriously, what did you guys drink last night? Poison?”

“Definitely.” Steve says and he regrets it the minute he does, because opening his mouth made the breath intake swirl in his stomach, and he immediately shot up from his place, rushing towards the bathroom to finally hurl everything out of his system. Eddie, Billy and you shared a look and then at Robin.

“Please, take me home.” Robin says and you nod, getting up from the couch and heading over to put on your heels, and your jacket. Eddie got up as well, holding in a breath at the sight of your legs in the morning light that's shining through the blinds. 

Legs that trembled under his touch last night.

“Come on Robs.” You walked over to her, both of your purses on one hand while the other stretched towards her. She groaned but grabbed it either way and you pulled her up, and she almost knocked you over as she stumbled forward. Eddie was behind you in a heartbeat, pressing his front on your back, as you pushed Robin on steady feet.

“Whoa, the last thing I need is a trip to the hospital today.” You hear him say behind you, and his hands were pressing on your arms, holding you, and your belly wanted to scream, tell him to keep holding you, or yell at him to move his hands, to satiate the hunger.

More.

You pulled away from him when you saw Robin almost falling again and you rushed to her side, pulling her arm over your shoulder. All the heat was gone in an instant as worry flashed in your face, Steve’s vomiting echoing in the room and you felt Robin’s body tense as she gagged and you gasped, looking at Eddie alarmingly.

“We need to go, I will babysit Robin all day.” You say to him and he nods, rushing towards the door to hold it open for you.

“I’ll push the button for the lobby, go before she paints the walls green Angel.” You give him a nod as Robin lurches forward, another gag rushing through her body and you winced, walking towards the door. The ache in your belly reappeared as you looked at him again. Your lips were tingling, and you cursed the fact that you had to hold Robin up because you just wanted to hug him goodbye, or kiss his cheek. 

“I’ll– I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You say but don’t move from your place, almost as if waiting for something. His features softened as he gulped a nervous lump in his throat, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead, very fast, soft, yet burning as if he lingered there for a while.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you later sweetheart.” You were stuck to the ground, your heart not wanting to move as you looked at him, and the only thing that made you return to your senses, was Robin’s gagging once more. You groaned as you walked out and headed towards the elevator, which was gladly already at your floor. 

Eddie gave you a small wave and you returned it with a smile, finally disappearing into the elevator, the doors closing as Eddie closed the one of his apartment. He heard Steve again, and he wondered how much more he had in his stomach, because it felt never ending.

With a sigh, he walked towards the fridge, getting the water out to fill a glass for himself, and one for Steve. Billy was eating a pancake next to him, his hip resting against the counter, and Eddie froze, putting the water bottle on the counter, his head slowly turning to look at Billy.

“Weren’t you sleeping on the couch last night?” Billy nodded and then shrugged, looking at the pancake in his hand.

“Got up in the middle of the night, wanted to sleep on my bed.” His blue eyes finally looked up at Eddie’s, a pair of shocked brown orbs staring at his friend’s face as if he were a ghost. Billy smirked, taking a bite out of his pancake again, grabbing the glass of water for Steve, walking behind Eddie to head to the toilet, but not before he whispered into his ear the same question he asked you before.

“Did you have fun last night?”

You took off your work headphones, finally finishing the meeting and work for the day. You sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling. It had been some heavy days of work, but gladly you had asked for two days off, one being tomorrow, Thursday, and then Friday, giving you an extended weekend.

You stood up from your chair, turning the laptop off, shutting the top, and finally taking a deep breath. You smiled as you walked towards your kitchen, getting a glass and your bottle of wine. It was already opened, so you just took the cork off and poured yourself until it was halfway full. 

Austin talked to you this afternoon, asking for a second date. You didn’t even hesitate when you declined it politely. It was hard to do so, asking Robin for advice on how to do it, but being honest was the best option. You told him you just didn’t feel it that way, and he kindly understood or that’s what you could read from the texts on the work chat.

If he was mad, he didn’t show it.

You took a sip out of your glass as your phone vibrated and you looked down at it to see Eddie sending you a direct message on Instagram. Probably a meme. You smiled slightly at it, but then it immediately fell and you took a large sip out of your glass this time, as you felt the knots in your belly turning at his message, but there was also some sort of frustration behind it.

At first you didn’t know why you felt it. Sunday he had messaged you about his lunch and what he was going to wear for work that night. Monday, he video called you to tell you that he bought a new expansion for his DnD game, while he wore a tight turtleneck. Tuesday, he was excitedly telling you about his uncle Wayne coming to visit soon, and how Eddie wants you to meet him. And now, today, he’s been sending you memes all day, as if nothing ever happened between you two.

And that was what was driving you insane.

You had almost ripped your brain cells trying to figure out what was happening or why you felt this way, wanting to tell Robin but for some reason you just wanted to keep this to yourself. This is a very confusing feeling, not knowing what is happening, and much less towards a friend.

But you also wondered why Eddie had been so nonchalant about all of this, about everything, and you couldn’t help but want that shift that you felt on Sunday morning. The soft touches that weren’t always there, the small playful bantering, and the closeness. God, the closeness. You shivered every time you remembered his skin on yours, his lips on yours, on your neck, which you noticed as soon as you left Robin at her apartment that you had a few marks on there, very subtle, but still there. 

They were now gone, and you found yourself mourning those marks. Did he want to mark you again? Would he touch you again? Kiss you again? Make you feel good again? And even so, you didn’t feel embarrassed or nervous about that situation anymore, because it was replaced with an anxious feeling, with a feeling of anticipation, with a feeling of ‘What will happen next? Will there be a next time like this?’.

And after your night with Eddie, you found the burning even more unbearable than before, and electric shocks were added into it too. You tried, you really tried to make yourself feel good just like he showed you, but every time you closed your eyes, the memory of his fingers came back, as well as the kissing on your neck, and not even a vibrator could compare. 

Your thoughts were cut off when your phone started vibrating wildly, and you looked over to see Eddie calling you through video. Butterflies exploded in your belly, nervousness filling you up and you cursed at yourself for not putting on a single gram of make up today. You glanced at your reflection in your toaster, wincing as you fixed your hair a bit, putting some strands in front of your face. It was all you could do.

You grabbed your phone and slid on the screen to answer Eddie’s call. His head popped up, his curls tight on a bun on top of his head and you could only see from the bridge of his nose, and up, as he wiggled his eyebrows up and down onto the camera, making you snort, looking away from the screen. You heard him laugh as he pulled the phone away from him, showing his entire face to you.

“Hello there Angel.” You heard his voice and your eyes immediately found his through the communication device, seeking him out again as your pet name was said.

“Hi Eddie. What are you doing?” You asked and he shrugged, giving you an offended fake look.

“I can’t call my favorite girl in the whole world just cause I feel like it?” His favorite girl in the world. His girl. You knew you blushed at those words, giving a huff as you looked towards the glass on your counter and distract yourself from the aching heat that was already beginning to spread. You held onto the glass and took a sip of it, putting it down to look back at him.

“I bet you could have texted me about it.” You didn’t deny his advance at you. In fact, you didn’t deny any of the advances he did on you this week. Showing you what he was going to wear for the night at the club? Putting on a tight turtleneck that would surely show off his pecs to you? Tell you he wanted you to meet his Uncle? He knew it was selfish, and he knew it was risky, but you had actually shown reciprocation that made him smile in victory. You were very brief with his work clothes selection, making small ‘hms’ and ‘that’s good’ as if you were not liking what you were seeing. You complimented him on his black turtleneck, telling him it looked great on him and that he should wear it more often. And then, you told him you couldn’t wait to meet his uncle, so that’s why today, Eddie, has reached a boiling point.

“I thought a call would be quicker, sorry for interrupting your lonely drinking session.” He jokingly replied to you which made you roll your eyes. He licked his lips as he took a deep breath in, his throat closing in on him as he looked at the screen. He stripped for a living, almost completely naked, and talking to you made him more nervous than he’d ever been before.

“Right, so, what is it? I got a glass of wine and some Kirby to play.” You say to him, and his chest warmed at the thought of you, just playing on your switch, while he played on his, both on the couch. He would be resting against the back of the couch while you rested your head on his lap, showing him your accomplishments on your game. And that thought, that small little image in his head, made him finally talk.

“I got the day off tomorrow as well actually.” You raised your head to look at him again, and Eddie sucked in another breath, feeling the palm holding the phone tensing and sweating up, but he can try to play it cool. He always did. “So, I was wondering if you wanted to go to that bar near your apartment, I am missing how they prepare the Negroni there–” 

“Yes.”

Silence. Both of you were stunned at how quick you responded. You didn’t even process it, you didn’t even think about it, you didn’t even hesitate. Your whole body had a sudden cold sweat, and you almost dropped to the floor in embarrassment but Eddie finally recovered himself, straightening up as if you hadn’t just accepted going out on a date with him so casually. Well, he didn’t tell you it was a date, but he kind of hoped it was.

“Okay then! Someone’s excited to keep drinking it seems.” He had to lighten up the mood, he had to make you laugh again, lose the tension on your shoulders, and that he did. You giggled through your burning cheeks, your heart beating into your ears, but happiness was replacing your embarrassment, followed by excitement. Was it a date? Or was this just two friends getting together to have a drink? Or maybe you weren’t even going to be alone, maybe he invites Billy if he has his day off or something.

“I just– I don’t have plans for tomorrow, okay?” You say to him hiding your face behind the big glass of wine, and he couldn’t help but smile at you, dimples and all, making your stomach explode with so many things that you couldn’t even name them all. 

“Okay, alright, fine. I’ll just park near your apartment and we can go walking from there.” Your heart soared at that. Austin had told you to simply meet him there, when Eddie wasn’t, not only picking you up, but offered to go walking, and you hoped that it was because he wanted to spend more time with you. And you were right.

“Alright. Can I go play Kirby now?” You needed to hang up, you needed to yell, you needed to jump around with excitement, not being able to contain yourself for much longer. He was feeling the burning sensation on his face now too, so he clenched his other hand on the bed, tightly to hold his emotions in.

“Go play your stupid Kirby, I’ll see you tomorrow Angel.” You gave him a nod, putting your glass down to be able to send him a soft smile, and his eyes almost bulged out of his sockets when you bit your bottom lip, very subtly.

“See you tomorrow Eds.” You hung up and Eddie was staring blankly at the screen. You had accepted his invitation, rapidly, no doubt there, sure you were embarrassed and he could see it, but it meant… God, it meant you were letting go. A wide smile spread on his lips, teeth showing as he threw the phone on his bed, his arms raising towards the ceiling as he plopped backwards, falling onto his mattress with a laugh.

You weren’t far behind on his excitement, putting the phone on the counter before you did small little jumps in the same place you stood, a wide grin spreading on your cheeks. You weren’t this excited when Austin asked you out, and even if you didn’t know if Eddie meant it that way, you realized that if it was indeed a date, you didn’t mind. 

You didn’t mind. Oh my god… You didn’t mind.

Realization hits you like a brick to the face. It couldn’t be that, could it? He is your friend, someone who helped you all along this journey to find yourself, it’s impossible to feel– feel this for someone you consider a friend right? Well not impossible, but it shouldn’t happen, because he obviously doesn’t see you like that. He is just inviting you out to a bar to drink with his friend.

You were just excited to see Eddie, nothing more. But the anticipation was there again. What were you anticipating to happen? Your feelings were not cooperating with what your brain knows, so you cannot even describe what was going on inside of you. When did this shift happen with Eddie? This didn’t happen before, did it? You can’t remember now, because the present was just blurring everything from the past month.

You grabbed your glass of wine again, taking another sip, and the heat was all over your body again. You were going insane not knowing what was happening to you, and that leads you to stomp towards your living room, and take your Switch out of its charging dock, and plopping onto your couch, the glass on the coffee table.

You just needed to distract yourself. Eddie is a friend, and you are going to the bar as friends.

You walked out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your body, with a shocked expression on your face. 

You just wanted to be tidy, that’s all, feel clean. So, you shaved again, even if you shaved last week, you did it again. But it was all to feel clean, you liked that soothing feeling, your smooth legs and everywhere else. You looked at your full length mirror, scanning your body and the back of your legs if they were properly shaved. It isn’t the first time you shaved when seeing Eddie, but it is the first time you shaved your private parts. 

You shook your head, trying not to think too much about it, as well as the building heat in your belly. You double tapped your phone that was on your night table to look at the time. 5 PM. You had time, okay. You walked over to your closet and opened the underwear drawer, looking through your panties and bras to finally land on something you hadn’t opened yet.

The black laced lingerie set.

Why were you even considering it? Why were you even thinking about putting that on? It was Eddie, just Eddie… Sweet Eddie. You can’t put that on, because it wasn’t what this was. It wasn’t that at all. You grabbed your white set, the cotton pair and you sighed heavily with a nod, pushing the drawer closed. 

You stepped away to throw the set onto the bed but you stopped midway. You looked towards the drawer again. There was something inside of you that was tugging you towards it again, your mind wanting to go against it, but it felt as if it were an impulse, not being able to control it. 

Why can't you control it? You’ve always been able to control your feelings, so what was this? Why is it always frustratingly there? Why doesn’t it ever go away and why is it always there with Eddie? Your body moved to the drawer again, taking the black lace set out and immediately throwing your towel away, stepping onto the thong first, which you almost never used, and then putting on the bra, with embroidery stitched onto it, the edges of it a nice thin lace that stuck to your skin.

You walked towards the mirror again to stare at yourself, the burning sensation returning to your body as a thought appeared in your head. Your eyes widened, slowly, walking towards your reflection to touch the crystal with your fingertips.

You wanted him to see it.

You didn’t think of wearing this set with Austin, and in fact you were saving it for a serious relationship, when you had spent months building the trust and the confidence between one another… Yet, with Eddie you already had all of that. It was always there. It had always been there, and you realized at this very moment, just what was happening.

It had occurred to you many times, that the feeling inside of you was something you never felt before. Something Eddie mentioned that night, and that you didn’t know how to describe it to him. Something that shouldn't happen with friends, and you knew that, that’s why you had been denying it all along, because admitting it would only lead to pain.

You were attracted to Eddie. Painfully so.

Oh fuck… You sat on the bed, looking towards the floor as the butterflies exploded in your belly, your heart beating into your ears, a buzzing noise filling your brain as you tried to think, tried to put your feelings back together, but all you could think about was him. His touch, his scent, his eyes, his lips, his voice, his tattoos, and–

You wanted to see more. So much more. 

You weren’t hiding yourself at the thought of seeing more, not like you did before, not like the nervous and anxious panicked self you were before, because the difference from those times is that you weren’t sure of what you wanted. You weren’t sure if you could do some stuff. You weren’t sure if you would look nice. You weren’t sure if he would enjoy himself with you…

But you remembered that night, and you couldn’t help but hope, wish that he in fact felt the same way, the same attraction you felt for him. You covered your face as flames invaded your cheeks and towards your ears. You were desperate, and it was the first time you were experiencing it. You wanted him to the point of not being sure if you could control yourself with him. Not anymore.

What are you going to do now with this realization? You want his friendship yet you don’t. You want this to not be a date, yet you want it to. You aren’t anticipating anything, yet you are. And there it was, the anticipation of wanting him to do something. The need for him to not act like nothing happened last weekend. The need for him to show you he wants you as much as you want him.

But what if your mind is creating this idealization of him that is not true? What if he doesn’t really want you? What if it is just your brain creating that fantasy that he does just so you could feel good about yourself? It can happen, right? But, fuck, he was hard that night, but men get hard with everything and anything, and you knew that much. 

“Oh god…” You took a few deep breaths in, feeling your chest just palpitating and you were sure you were going into a cardiac arrest. You got up from the bed and shook your hands as you paced back and forth in your room, breathing deeply and exhaling, trying to calm your nerves as they started settling in your body.

Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking.

He even taught you this. You think too much, you dwell too much on the infinite possibilities on how something might go, when the only thing you have to do is let yourself go, just like you did that night with him, as well as when you let him kiss you almost a month ago. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror again, stopping on your tracks. Just act like you normally do, don’t let it show, but it was impossible. What if he put an innocent hand on the small of your back just like he did when you were cooking pancakes? That touch, that simple and soft touch almost made you lose your mind. How can you possibly do this? How are you going to act now that you know? Should you tell Robin? No, there’s no time, she doesn’t even know you and Eddie kissed, she would absolutely flip and you need to get ready.

The weather was still warm but chilly when the wind blew, so laid out on the bed was a nice long sleeved black dress that reached your mid thigh, there was no cleavage, but your collarbones showed on the collar of it. It was a casual dress, but it wasn’t. You groaned now that you realize you had been anticipating everything about going out with Eddie tonight. 

The shaving, the dress, the lingerie, the excitement of him inviting you to a bar, the perfume you were going to use, the makeup you were going to do on yourself, the hairstyle you looked a tutorial for, the accessories you were going to use and the small heels you were going to wear. Was it all too much? What if he is casual, in some jeans and a band T-Shirt and you make him feel bad about it?

Okay, maybe change the heels for some sneakers and don’t overdo the makeup. You can do that, you have to be more casual. What if he sees through you? What if he thinks you got attracted to him right after he touched you? Will he think you are delusional? That just because he kissed you and touched you meant he wanted more with you? 

What did more mean?

You jumped on the spot when your alarm rang, making your eyes go wide. You had set the alarm to go off at 5:30 PM and you realized you had been walking all around and thinking for half an hour. Precious time you needed to get ready. You rushed to your vanity desk to start pulling out everything you needed for your makeup and hair. 

The time went on as you got ready, your nervousness building more and more as each minute passed. You were nervous, but it was a good nervous, as well as excited but terrified. You slid on your sneakers and looked at yourself in the mirror again. Your hair was down, but neat, a little bit styled, more than usual, but not overdoing it. Your makeup was kept simple, neutral eyeshadows with a tinge of black, with your eyeliner and mascara. Your lips were a natural red tone, a lip tint. 

You looked at your phone and it marked it was 6:42 PM. Your hands started sweating as you began to pace around the room again. It was almost time, and you were trying to regulate your breathing. This wasn’t a stranger, it was Eddie, but the turn of your belly was way worse than any other time you were with another man. 

Just act normal. Like always. It’s just a night out, with your friend, no funny business. But fuck, if there is no funny business, why did you get dressed like this? Your phone vibrated and you rushed towards it to see Eddie’s message. 

‘Arrived a little early 😅’

A smile spread on your lips, long gone was the fear you felt seconds ago, replaced by adrenaline as you sprayed more perfume on the back of your ears, grabbing onto your purse and sliding the phone inside as well as the small tube of gloss just in case you want to reapply. 

You grabbed your keys and rushed out of your house, locking after you left and you slipped into the elevator as fast as you could, pressing onto the bottom floor quickly until the doors closed. You looked at yourself in the mirrors of the wall of the elevator and fixed your hair again, giving one small nod as you waited for the doors to open again. Once they did, you walked out and out of the glass doors of the lobby, you could already see him.

Shit.

He was wearing that tight turtleneck black t-shirt you saw on him the other day, his black leather jacket on top, ripped black jeans, with his handcuff belt on his waist. He was looking to the side as he rested on the street lamp waiting for you. His hair was up in a bun, small strands falling around his face, and you felt your knees wobble slightly. 

He dressed up, in the same manner you did.

You gulped and punched the nervous lumps down your throat, walking towards the door and finally opening it. His head immediately snapped at the sound, and he had a smile on his face, ready to greet you, only for his breath to be knocked out of his lungs as if someone had kicked him on his chest cavity. 

He was absolutely stunned as he scanned your outfit, and he was sure that you were trying to kill him. He didn’t expect you to put on a dress for him, and he didn’t expect you to come out as quickly as you did. He also didn’t expect the perfume you were using, and he just was not prepared to see you like this. You were always beautiful, but now that you made yourself look good for this outing with him had his heart in his throat.

Do you even realize what you do to him or are you completely unaware of it? 

“Hi Eds!” Your cheery voice broke him out of his trance, finally feeling a cold sweat invade his feet, all blood leaving them to rush north, making him curse inwardly at himself. 

“Hey Angel.” He leaned away from the lamp post, and your heart soared when he reached out to you to pull you into a hug, face planting on his chest. You were afraid he could feel your heart against him, but you could definitely hear his. It was rather quick for its normal pace, but you guessed that maybe he walked to get to your door, having parked around the corner or something. 

Your arms wrapped around his waist and god he wanted to push you into your complex again, just go to your apartment and spend alone time with you instead of going into a bar with other people. But that would be too dangerous, being alone with you was not good for his own heart, nor his body, not when he had already heard you, tasted you, touched you.

He pulled away from you after taking a deep breath from your perfume, keeping his arm around your shoulders as he guided you to start walking the three blocks towards the bar. He was more nervous than he thought he’d be, but he had to stay calm, try to not show you how his hands were slightly trembling with the need to pull you into a kiss, or an even deeper hug.

You didn’t expect the arm to rest there, setting your body on fire as you started taking the first steps towards the bar. Your voice for some reason was caught in your throat as you looked at the floor. Talk to him, say something, anything at all. You raised your head up to ask him about this day off but your eyes caught onto the dark clouds that were coming from the distance.

“Eds, do I go get my umbrella? Just in case.” You say while pointing at said clouds. He looked over and indeed saw them, but he shrugged with a shake of his head. 

“Nah, it didn’t say it was going to rain. I bet it will just go around or it will be very little rain, we’ll be fine.” He says as if he were a meteorologist and you rolled your eyes at him, still staring at the clouds as you both walked.

“So those big black clouds it’s just a sprinkle of rain. That’s what you’re trying to tell me.” You say to him and he looks at you with a wide smile to his face, his arm falling from your shoulder, and your chest contracted in itself, missing the touch and the pressure that it had created. 

“I am an expert with weather. If you take a sniff, there’s no rain smell! It’s common sense sweetheart.” 

And that’s how you both arrived at the bar, bantering at Eddie’s poor sense of instinct but you still trusted him with not going back for an umbrella. It was the same bar you met Austin at, and when you both entered Eddie guided you to a similar booth, letting you both sit next to each other instead of in front of one another. 

You gulped and took a deep breath in as you slid into the booth, him sitting right next to you. This… This looked like a date, didn’t it? It had to be, but he didn’t say it was, so maybe it isn’t, but you want it to be. Should you ask? But it’s too early, maybe ask that at the very end just in case you make everything awkward between the two of you. Maybe you’re just–

“You’re thinking again.” He says and you look to your side and at him, a nervous heat engulfing you from being caught red handed. You had to think of something, anything at all.

“It was just a very stressful three days at work. Had to leave everything completely tidy for these two days I’ll be gone.” It was actually the truth, you weren’t lying, but you did lie about this being the thing you were thinking about, and you felt slightly guilty about that.

“Wow, they really can’t go without you sweetheart.” You shrugged at that as the waitress came over to get your order which was a rum and coke for Eddie and a beer for you, with a side of fries. 

“Yeah, I also had a nervous attack yesterday.” You didn’t even register what you said until it was out of your mouth. He raised an eyebrow at you, worry displayed on his face as he put a hand on your shoulder, making you look at him.

“Nervous? What happened?” Your eyes widened slightly and you cleared your throat, looking down at the table again, biting your bottom lip nervously. There it was again. You do not want to tell Eddie about another man. How stupid you were before for not realizing this. 

“I uh– Austin asked to go on a second date.” You began and he immediately tensed up, his stomach dropping as his shoulders fell slightly. “But I panicked because I didn’t know how to say no… So I called Robin completely crazy, and she– You wanna know what she fucking suggested?” You turned to look at him and his mood immediately lifted up as he heard you rejected the other man. For a second there he thought you had said yes.

“What did she suggest?” He says, putting his elbow on the table, his head resting on his hand as he looks at you. 

“She suggested that I tell him I am actually an undercover agent, trying to look into company secrets and that I was just using him.” Eddie snorted, followed by a chuckle and shaking his head while you giggled at Robin’s stupid suggestions, telling him one by one, making the laughter increase between you two, until Eddie’s laughter ceased but he kept a smile to his face.

“And what did you actually tell him?” He asked and you were just staring at him. He was absolutely beautiful, and your heart was trying to tug you into him, grab his face and pull him towards you, kiss him, wrap your arms around him. You sighed and shrugged at him.

“That I just felt like it was more of a friendship thing than something more.” At that Eddie’s heart soared, and the question was at the tip of the tongue. Did you feel that with him too? God, he really wanted to know. The waitress finally came back with your order and Eddie straightened up, thanking her as she placed the drinks and the food on the table.

You immediately launched to take a fry into your mouth and Eddie smiled as he watched you. Before, you would have waited until he got the first bite, because you didn’t want to seem desperate for food, and you were very tidy with it too. You took fries with your fork before, and now you’re dipping in with your hands. 

He was just hoping you were like this with him. Just him.

The two of you fell into your natural talk, even if nervous, even if anxious, it was always so easy to talk. So easy, that you were already on your second drink, asking him if his uncle was coming soon or not.

“Actually, yeah, maybe in a week. I am so fucking excited, it’s been way too long since I’ve last seen him, Claudia and the little shit.” He says with a laugh as he takes another sip of his rum and coke. You giggled at how he referred to his little brother, but you knew he cared deeply for him, still calling him three times a week to know how he is, and sometimes to help Dustin write a campaign of his own. “Still want you to meet him.”

You blushed at that, but you felt yourself growing excited at the thought of meeting part of his family, and that he wants you to. He really wants to introduce you to his Uncle, his father figure. His eyes were on you, body fully turned to face you, your own in the same manner. You smiled up at him, moving your head in a small nod.

“Can’t wait to meet him.” 

His arm was over the backrest of the booth, his hand resting right next to you. Your eyes locked with his and that need for him to wrap his arm around you came back. His fingers finally softly touched your shoulder, slow small circles being drawn with the tip of them and you shivered, feeling the goosebumps go all over your body at this small bit of touch from him.

Eddie’s eyes almost widened when he saw something different in the way you were looking at him. Did you even know what you were doing? Looking at him with your pupils a little bit wider than they were before, your fingers on the glass fidgeting, as if trying to do something with them but not having the strength to do it. Oh, everything changed. It definitely changed.

He moved one inch, just one towards you, but his cell phone started vibrating non stop, making him curse under his breath, pulling his arm away from the backrest to face the phone on the table. You didn’t realize that you weren’t breathing, releasing the air that was jailed up in your lungs. You almost reached for him. You almost leaned in, just out of impulse, out of craving. What have you become? 

“Fucking christ.” He swipes the phone screen to reject the call and that makes you snap out and look at him with a confused look in your face.

“Who was it?”

“The little–” The phone began vibrating again, and Eddie groaned while throwing his head back, grabbing his phone and answering the video call. 

“Eddie, what the fuck! This is important and you haven’t been answering my texts!” You hear the other voice say and you look at the screen, seeing it was Dustin, Eddie’s brother. He raised his head to look at the camera with an angry look on his face and his little brother simply rolled his eyes at him. “What are you doing so important you can’t answer me?”

“Does it look and sound like I’m home, you fucker?” You giggled, covering your mouth with your hand to stifle it but Dustin heard it, a smirk appearing in his face.

“Are you on a date?” 

Oh that made Eddie blush, and your giggle ceased again. The thing you both didn’t ask or say, and now you wondered what Eddie was going to say. You gulped, looking up at him and his eyes were already on you. You were waiting for him to answer, you were giving him the option of letting this evening be a friendly one, or something more. 

His heart was on his ears as he felt his gut turning with nervousness, but now, he felt hopeful that this feeling was not one sided. If you let him choose, it’s because you wondered if he had asked you out as a friend or not. He opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by Dustin, who gasped, making Eddie’s head turn back to him.

“Is it her?” Dustin suddenly says your name and your eyes widen slightly, while Eddie blushes with a roll of his eyes, followed by a nod of his head. “I wanna meet her!”

“What, no! I’m–” 

“I just wanna ask her what house she is in!” And that caught your attention, making you sit up straight and snatch Eddie’s phone out of his hand. He groaned again, a little bit pissed that Dustin completely ruined the moment, and now he was butting in, on the date he didn’t say it was, but it definitely was.

“Hi! I’m Dustin!” 

“Little shit.” Eddie corrects and again puts his elbow on the table, looking your way as he rests his head on his hand. 

“Eddie told me you like Harry Potter!” Dustin says and you smile into the camera, widely as heat fills your cheeks. Eddie talked about you. He talked about you to his family.

“Yes! I am a potterhead, full fledged.” You say to the curly headed boy in front of you, and Eddie knew he had become non existent at this point, but seeing you smile widely while talking to his brother was making his heart beat faster and yearn for you even more than before. 

“I am too! I mean, I am a fan of all nerdy things, but Harry Potter is one of my top 3!” He says with a smile which was super contagious to you, making you smile at him. “Okay so, I am a Hufflepuff, and my Patronus is a dog!” He says and your eyes widen at him, your mouth falling into a surprised one.

“Me too! I am a proud Hufflepuff, but my Patronus is actually a Hippogriff.” Dustin’s eyes widened.

“No fucking way! That one is fucking difficult to get!” Eddie was smiling as he heard you talk, completely entranced by you, excitedly moving your free hand as you talked to Dustin. He wondered if you would be this care free with Wayne and Claudia. God, he really wants to introduce you to them, and the thought scared him before, but seeing you right now he is simply growing impatient for it to happen already.

He used this time to go to the bathroom and relieve himself, looking at himself in the mirror, taking a deep breath in to calm his nerves. God, what is happening right now? You were talking normally, he knew that, but there was something else. It was as if you were expecting something, watching him, and you even scooted closer to him. He wasn’t going to complain, but… Should he make a move? Should he first talk to you? 

He chuckles at himself, feeling like a complete hypocrite. He always talks to you about letting go, to stop thinking, to stop dwelling on things in your mind and here he was. But the difference was that he was risking so much if he decided on making the move. But weren’t the signs there? You waited for his answer if this was a date or not! So why is he hesitating so much?

He walks out of the bathroom, walking back towards the booth and he sees a smile line of people outside the bar, waiting to enter. He knew you two were going to get kicked out soon, and he groaned at the thought, sitting in the booth, sliding next to you again as you giggled at Dustin, Eddie’s heart warming again.

“Yeah, but I can’t ever beat him at Mario Kart. He sucks at everything else, but Mario Kart is a fucking pro isn’t he?” You tilted your head at that, and Eddie’s eyes widened at his brother, already cursing him as Dustin kept talking. “Yeah, he told me you couldn’t beat him either.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise, looking at Eddie with complete shock in your face. His eyes were panicked as he looked at you, an innocent small smile appearing in his lips and you bit your bottom lip with your eyebrows raised up and nodded at him, only to snap back at Dustin.

“So he told you he beat me? Cause I don’t remember it like that at all!” Dustin’s face fell, his turn to tilt his head in confusion and Eddie’s arm immediately wrapped around your shoulders, pushing you into him with his hand covering your mouth, rather harshly in order to shut you up as he snatched the phone out of your hands, putting his face on the camera again as your screams and mumbles were muffled into his palm.

“Okay, Dustin, talk to you tomorrow, if this is about the campaign we’ll talk later!” 

“What did she mean–” Eddie hung up before Dustin could finish and he dropped the phone on the table with an exasperated sigh. You were wriggling in his grasp and he took the hand off your mouth but his arm was still holding you close. He looked down at you with a frown to his face as you laughed, your hands pressing onto his thigh for support.

“He beats me at every game, he is not going to let me live it down if he knows YOU beat me at Mario Kart!” You were still giggling as you looked up at him.

“But I did beat you at Mario Kart!” You now noticed how close his face was to yours, his arm still holding you close, with his hand now on your shoulder. Your whole body is turned, which was rather uncomfortable, but you didn’t care. You were just inches from touching his lips again, and the burning in your belly ignited, first like a spark, and it was expanding into flames, all over. 

“Yeah… You did… But he doesn’t need to know Angel… Let’s keep that secret between us, okay?” His voice lowered, talking to you, privately, intimately and that made your legs clench slightly, already knowing why you were always fidgety with him. Why you were always uncomfortable in that area of yours. 

You were aroused.

It was just you two in the bar right now, that’s how it felt like. No one around you. No clients, no waitresses, no barman, no cook… There was no one. You just needed him to close the distance, you were begging him with your eyes to close the distance between you two, but he wasn’t doing anything. Why isn’t he doing anything? You were growing desperate now, and you knew it, but what do you have to do for his lips to be on yours again?

“Can I handle your check?” Eddie wanted to curse at whoever was playing a joke on him from above. Probably his fucking father or something. He sighed as he pulled away from you, looking at the waitress before him. He nodded and you felt as if your breathing had picked up a pace now, feeling your heart hammering in your chest, as you sat straight once more.

You were… Irritated. Why isn’t he kissing you? He’s done it before, why isn’t he doing anything? Maybe he doesn’t want to? But he didn’t say it wasn’t a date, because if it weren’t then he should have said a simple no. You were too into your head that you didn’t notice Eddie paying the waitress until he tapped your shoulder. 

“They are basically kicking us out.” He gave you a small smile and you looked at him, still with a lost look in your eyes and nodded, grabbing your things and getting out of the booth with him. You wanted to glare at the people that were in line, because thanks to them they had to start to clear up tables to fill them in. 

“You didn’t even let me pay half…” You pouted at him as he walked next to you, but your steps were slow, not wanting the night to end. You didn’t realize that you’ve been sitting there with him for two hours, time passing by way too quickly for your liking. 

“Next time is on you.” He says with a smile and your heart jumps at that, making you smile towards the floor trying to hide how flushed you just got. Next time. There will be a next time with just the two of you. You looked up at him, both of you still walking.

“Maybe next time you can help Dustin before so he doesn’t have to interrupt.” You said to him and he was baffled by your answer. You saw Dustin as an interruption when he was close to you. His heart hammered in his chest, and none of you were paying attention to the small concrete boulder on the ground, and when you stepped on it, you tumbled to the side, flailing your arms everywhere.

“Shit!” He grabbed your arms, pulling you into him to steady you as your heart felt like exploding. You felt your world tilting when you stepped on that, giving you a complete heart attack. His chest rumbled with laughter and you looked up at him with a frown and pout in your face.

“Don’t laugh at me! I didn’t see it!” You were embarrassed at your display, but seeing him laugh was making you want to get on the tip of your toes, and plant a kiss on him. God, you want to kiss him, really bad.

“I’m sorry, you just moved your arms everywhere and it was funny.” His laugh slowed down as his head turned to look at you and there was that look on your face again. You were blinking slowly at him, and his blood began rushing south because it almost looked as if you wanted to eat him alive. 

Just like he wanted to do to you.

“Eds…?” You were dazed, eyes hazed while staring up at him and your mind was turning into gelatin, coherent thoughts no longer processing in your head, and your palms were splayed on his chest, and you just wanted to rise them up, glide them on his torso and to the back of his head.

“Yes, Angel?” His voice was low, your frame still in his arms as you two stood in the street, and he really was trying to keep himself under control here, but when you were looking at him like that… The only thought that was processed was… Fuck it. 

But you flinched, your eyes blinking rapidly as you touched your cheek with your index finger, water covering it. You frowned at it and Eddie was about to ask what happened when he himself felt something on his cheek. He unhooked one arm from you to wipe his face, noticing the drop of water on his hand, and as soon as you both looked up, the sky decided it was time for a waterfall to happen. 

The drops were heavy, soaking you both in the lapse of five seconds and you pulled away from Eddie with a squeal, followed by a glare towards him and he was taking off his jacket in a hurry, cursing under his breath to then flop it on your head to cover you from any more rain.

“I TOLD YOU SO!” You yelled at him and he grabbed your hand to start running towards your complex, and he couldn’t help but roar with laughter as he ran. You wanted to murder him and he was laughing at the situation. The streets had puddles already from how heavy was raining as thunder roared in the sky above you both.

“JUST RUN!” He yelled back through his laughter and you couldn’t help but laugh with him as you kept running under the rain, Eddie’s jacket over your head, keeping the rain out of your hair and face. Many people were running from the sudden downpour, some cursing, some laughing, and then some just accepted their fate and walked under the rain.

You two were just running like crazy, laughing hysterically as his hand squeezed yours, your sneakers already full of puddle water which was making you wince in disgust and made you keep whining at him, telling him off that you were right and that you should have gone inside for an umbrella. You took the keys out of your purse desperately as you both reached the complex and he let your hand go.

“Well, Angel, I should–”

“Nope, you’re getting inside and we’re gonna dry ourselves before we catch a fucking cold!” You yelled at him and he wasn’t going to say no, following you inside the lobby as you opened your door. You both rushed to the elevator as you kept laughing at how stupid Eddie had been about the weather. 

In the elevator you took the jacket off your head and he grabbed it, trying to shake the water off it and you covered your face to then slap his arm to make him stop. He was laughing at the reflection of the two of you and you noticed that your makeup was running, making you gasp in embarrassment and fix it with your index fingers.

The doors opened at your floor and you grabbed his hand to walk the two of you out of the elevator, rushing towards the warmth of your apartment, your heart beating loudly in your chest, as you opened the door to finally head inside. Eddie closed the door behind him and you motioned for him to take off his boots as you took off your water filled sneakers.

“God, okay, I am not a weatherman, okay? I can make mistakes.” He says with a chuckle, taking off his boots and his socks that were completely drenched. You put your sneakers and socks aside as you looked at him. 

“You said you were an expert–” 

“Experts can make mistakes sweetheart.” He says to you with a smile, that dimpled smile that made your knees buckle. You studied him, his hair was stuck to his forehead and cheeks, some curls were wet bouncing off, but his bun was still in place. You felt your breathing picking up a pace again, and it wasn’t because of the running. His chest was going up and down, his shirt now completely stuck to his body, letting your eyes roam all over him, and the flames never extinguished. Even when you were running towards here you still felt them, in the hold of his hand, in his laughter, in that moment between the two of you.

You didn’t even turn on the lights of the apartment, but the streetlamps of the street were bright enough to bring some light into the place, and thunder every now and then flashed through the windows. He ran a hand over his face to take off the excess water, and even if you were drenched from head to toe, you were burning. You were really burning as if you had the worst fever ever.

Your consciousness was drifting away again, your body wanting to move as your belly and your need yelled at you. He hadn’t made a move on you all night. He didn’t kiss you, he had touched you but he did go farther than that. The anticipation of him doing something, the anticipation of fully crossing the line, the anticipation of something happening tonight. That’s what you were waiting for, but you were irritated already because of how desperate you were for him.

You want him.

You desire him.

You need him.

“Angel, we should get some towels.” He was oblivious to you, not realizing the desperate look on your face, the fast pace of your breathing, the twitching of your hands, and just because he was looking all over at himself and how incredibly drenched he got from some rain in just a minute. 

Your body was trembling almost as you stared at him, your belly burning as you felt the heat right at your core. This, you never felt this before. This intense feeling of wanting someone, of craving someone, of wanting to touch them in every possible way. The thought of that scared you before, but now, you would do anything to see him in the light, bare before you, and you wanted to make him feel good, in the same way he made you feel that night. 

Stop thinking.

Stop waiting. 

Let go.

Let fucking go.

Eddie looked up only for his eyes to widen when he felt both of your hands reach up to his face, cradling him, and he didn’t even notice you had walked closer to him at all. He stared down at you, seeing that look again in your face as you pulled him down towards you, and you tipped toed upwards.

And you kissed him.

It was soft, yet with pressure, and he was in complete shock, his eyes still wide as you kissed him, in a long peck, your lips not moving, yet he could feel the desire in the kiss, because he could feel how hot your hands were, despite the heavy cold rain that poured on the two of you. You made the move on him. You kissed him. Out of your own accord, no help required, no favor asked. 

Your hands trembled as you slowly pulled away, breathing heavily and taking a step back to scan his face. Your body was shaking slightly, not because of the wet clothes on you, but because you wanted to simply jump on him. This new feeling inside of you was making you feel like an animal, and you didn’t know how to control it, not anymore. 

He was still looking at you with surprise in his face, his chest increasing its movement as his breathing picked up, and locked eyes with yours. The tension in the air was palpable, and the room grew hotter, and hotter as you two scanned one another. You didn’t think, you let go with him. 

Fuck it.

He dropped the wet leather jacket to the floor with a thud, and gave a heavy step towards you, one hand flying towards your waist, wrapping his arm around you while he took the other towards the back of your head, pulling you towards him. You sighed of relief as your arms immediately wrapped around him as his lips clashed desperately against yours.

This kiss was different. It was needy, rough, and it was already burning your lips as you both moved with one another, your fingernails digging into his back as you pressed your body against his, feeling his hand grip onto the small of your back. His fingers went into your wet hair, pulling you deeper into his kiss.

There was no room for thoughts, no room for being conscious of what was going on. You just need this fire to be over, you need it extinguished, but it only grew its flame. You need more, so for the first time, you licked his bottom lip, wanting to feel more of him. He groaned into the kiss, his chest exploding at the thought of you making all the moves today.

You wanted him, you were experiencing desire for the first time ever, and he now understood. You were letting go, letting your instincts take over, letting your body move for you, and you were being consumed by those flames you were annoyed of for the past weeks. 

He moved the both of you, your hips slamming against the counter behind you as your tongue danced with his, heavy breaths mixing with one another’s, his hands wanting to roam all over your body but there was still some control in him, even if it was a very thin line. So he kept his hands where he originally put them, while your fingernails were scratching on his scalp, wanting him closer onto your body, feeling his hip against yours and you couldn’t help but whine at the need for more, his blood rushing south in a fast pace as he heard that coming from you.

You had to have more, it’s not enough. God, it’s just not enough. He groaned into your mouth when one of your hands slid down from his head to grab onto his bicep, harshly and without breaking the kiss you pushed yourselves off the counter. You want to take what you desire, want to lose yourself in the feeling so you start taking steps, small steps, guiding him with you, your lips still attached as if your lives depended on it. 

He was hesitant to follow you, wanting to pull away to ask if this is what you really wanted, but he didn’t want you to think he didn’t want this. It’s the only thing that’s been in his mind ever since he kissed you back at his apartment, maybe even before that. So the fact that you are the one, guiding him into your bedroom, was making that small control he had in himself slowly begin to snap.

The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, and the kiss only broke for a second as you fell back, body hitting the mattress below you with a soft huff as you tried to get your breathing back to normal, to get oxygen into your brain so you could think, but Eddie was close behind you, following you as he got on top of you, each knee on the side of your thighs, right on the edge of the mattress, as he leaned down hungrily to take your lips again with his.

You moaned softly into the kiss, making him groan as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders again to pull him close. He wrapped one arm around you, going in between your body and the mattress to lift you slightly up so he can guide you up into the middle of the bed, your legs no longer dangling at the edge and he crawled with you in the movement, trying to never leave your lips.

You were both breathing heavily into each other, tongues mixing in a wild dance, battling for the prize, but it was still not enough. He was hovering over you, not pressing his body against you, and you needed that. You arched your back upwards, looking for him, not knowing yourself for a second there but you were just desperate for him, you needed him, terribly. 

He felt your chest hit his and he groaned into the kiss, but he had to be first, and foremost, the good friend you met at that coffee shop. The good friend you trusted from the beginning to help you. The good friend you could be yourself with no matter what. So he slowly, painfully, broke the kiss, his lips still hovering over yours as he spoke, eyes searching for yours.

“Angel… Are you–” And you finally locked eyes with his, and he almost died right then and there. All your features and the wide dilated pupils in your eyes made all of his doubts wash away. 

“E-Eds– I–” He knew that if you talked you would think and your mind would start working in search of words, so he immediately clashed his lips on yours again. He was so selfish, but he wasn’t going to miss this chance of you letting go with him. For whatever this evening takes you both, he wasn’t going to miss the chance of experiencing it. 

His arm was still wrapped underneath you, so he kneeled up, making you sit up while the kiss never broke between the two of you. He pulled away once more, looking into your eyes to see if there were signs of regret, of panic, of uncertainty, but in your eyes the only thing you could see was him. Just him. The eye contact never broke, as his hands slowly started heading to the back of your dress, finding the zipper at the top of it.

You were both almost panting now as you stared at one another, and when he didn’t see you move away, when he didn’t see you look away, and when he didn’t see your gaze change on him, he held onto the zipper and began pulling it down, slowly. Your body shivered as your belly turned with an anxious feeling you didn’t know how to really describe, but it wasn’t bad, it was the complete opposite of it. You wanted him to take your dress off, and it made you nervous, you knew it by the way your hands trembled, but you still wanted him to take it off, let him touch your bare skin, skin that was burning you almost agonizingly at each soft teasing touch.

Once the zipper was down, and you still haven’t stopped him, he sucked a deep breath in to calm his heart as he grabbed onto the collar of the dress, and started pulling it down. He was going to save your breasts for the final show, first helping you get out of the long sleeves, which was hard to do because of how wet the fabric was, sticking onto your skin.

You took this time to glance at his arms, wanting to bite onto them, wanting him to wrap them around you again as he slowly took the top of your dress off. Fear finally struck you as he pulled the top part down to finally see you in your bra. Your body flushed, feeling bare before him, yet you still looked up to look at his reaction, and his eyes were almost wide, completely clouded at your sight.

When he pulled that part of cloth down, he didn’t expect you to have something like that underneath. That black lace fit you as if it was made specifically for you, and you… You picked that for him. You had chosen to wear this underneath that dress of yours, all night, while talking to him. He cursed under his breath when he felt his bulge twitch in his pants, wanting to break free.��

He grabbed the back of your neck, and leaned down towards your face, making your eyelids drop as his breath hit your face. He gave your lips a small peck, yet longing as he slowly pushed you down onto the bed once again. He pulled away from the kiss as he hovered on top of you, both elbows holding himself up to not crush you, fighting his hips upwards so you wouldn’t feel his hard on against your thigh. 

His lips found your cheek bone, and you sighed with almost relief, closing your eyes as his lips went further down, going towards your neck, leaving soft breathy kisses all over the skin. He gave a soft tentative nip on your skin, making you jerk upwards, your chest hitting his as he groaned against you.

“You’re so beautiful… God, you’re so fucking beautiful Angel…” You gasped as you held onto his biceps, swallowing the words he just said to you. His lips went even more south, kissing onto your collarbone and the flames just expanded with that. If he kept going you were sure you would combust from the intense burning that was all over your body. His kisses kept going, kissing all over your torso until he reached the top of your breasts. He looked up at you with a lost look in his eyes and you looked down at him, breathing heavily as you gave him a nod. 

“Please…” You begged, almost whined, and he didn’t have to be told twice. He dipped his hand behind your back, and you lifted slightly so he could get access to the hook of your bra. He expertly snapped it open with one movement, and you dropped onto the mattress again. He could feel the heat that was radiating off your body, how flushed you were.

Your mind started moving its gears again when you felt him pull the first strap down. What if he didn’t like them? What if they are too bland? Too boring? Maybe little more than what he normally is used to? Not perfect and perky? What if he–

A kiss on your cheek stopped your mind from reeling any further, and you looked at Eddie who had a lust filled look in his features as he breathed a little heavily over you. He now decided to let you know how bad you had him in the palm of your hand, how incredibly turned on he was with you underneath him, so he pressed his hip against your thigh. Your eyes widened when you felt the bulge hitting on your skin, and your control left your mind once more.

“You’re perfect… So fucking perfect.” He whispered to you as he took the other strap down and your body relaxed as he took the constricting device off your body, the breeze hitting your wet skin, making your nipples stand up at it. Reality hit you, now being conscious that Eddie was seeing you half naked right now. You were going to start talking but his lips hungrily found yours again.

He took one glance, just one glance at your breasts and he was gone. He needed to feel you, he desperately needed you now, his heart tugging on him so intensely that he believes he is going to die on the spot. He threw the bra away, not caring where it landed as his hand pressed onto your waist, to let you know he was there. You breathed softly against his lips as his fingertips started trailing up on your body.

Your eyes widened when you felt his cold hand come in contact with your left nipple, sensitivity shooting a shockwave through your body, making your arch your back towards his touch. His tongue was in your mouth, swallowing your soft moan, making him hold a groan back as he greedily rubbed himself on your thigh once, to get some friction.

His index finger started circling your nipple, perking it up even more, and you couldn’t help but pull away from the kiss to throw your head back onto the pillow, a low moan escaping your lips. You never felt this when someone touched your breasts, but you felt this a hundred times more, even more than when you touch yourself there. Eddie was basically doing magic on you right now. 

He was panting as he looked at your blissed out face, and he pinched your nipple once, gently to see you jerk up, another moan escaping you and he licked his lips as he hungrily stared down at you. He used your exposed neck, planting a kiss there, and then on the other side as his thumb and index finger kept pinching you, rolling your nipple in between his digits. 

He was too hungry for you, trailing his kisses back down towards your collarbone, and you were too distracted into the bliss of his fingers, that you didn’t notice his kisses at the top of your right breast, kissing now all around the mound, and he looked at you one last time before he placed his mouth onto your nipple. 

Your eyes snapped open at the feeling, looking down at him and your core burnt with the sight of him, groaning, almost moaning against your skin, enjoying every lick and bite he did to you. Your hands were gripping his shoulders, tightly as moans ripped from your mouth and your back arched at him.

Your taste was something he was never going to forget in his life, nor get tired of. He was in pure bliss as he gave you this pleasure you never experienced, and he hoped he was going to be the only one to give that to you. He sucked on your lip to then let go with a pop, letting his tongue flick onto the nub a couple of times, making you shiver under his touch, your eyes closed as your head was to the side, enjoying his ministrations.

He dragged his tongue to the center of your breasts to then land a kiss there. He then began trailing more kisses, going downwards and your breathing hitched when he grabbed onto the lower part of your dress. He gave you a look as he sat up, letting you choose again if he continued or not. Your answer, even if nervous, even if thoughts wanted to go off in your brain, your instincts and your body didn’t let it. Your hips raised up from the bed and he sucked in a sharp intake of breath as he began pulling the dress off you. 

He dropped it somewhere in the room and he had a perfect view of your body now. You were almost naked, on your bed, giving yourself to him in a way he didn’t think was possible. His chest was going up and down rapidly, fingertips trembling. He wanted to devour you, take you, make you his, and ruin you, absolutely ruin you for anybody else. Ruin you to the point you wouldn’t be able to forget about him. Ruin you with the intent of branding himself on your skin and mind. 

No one can have you, but him.

Your body burnt at his gaze, and you were about to cover yourself out of embarrassment and he shook his head at you, running his hands on your thighs.

“I am admiring you Angel… You– You don’t know what you’re doing to me.” You didn’t expect to hear that from him, but as your gaze looked downwards you could see how big the bulge underneath his pants were. You didn’t even touch him, and yet he was there, turned on by just touching you. 

He leaned down again, crawling a little bit downwards as he placed a kiss on your stomach, and then at your waist. You covered your mouth as his kisses started going beyond the elastic band of your thong, kissing over your thigh, and then moving onto the other one. His fingers moved upwards and grabbed onto the edge of your thong.

Your eyes widened and you flinched away from him, fear striking you suddenly as the nerves took over you. He looked up at you to see if you were regretting it, if you wanted to stop, but your eyes were simply confused, nervous, and doubtful. He licked his lips as he kneeled up again, to lean over you so he could gaze at your eyes more closely.

“Do you want me to stop?” Did you? You definitely didn’t, but he was going to see you there, he was going to be able to see it. Last time he couldn’t and just touched you, but now he wanted to be face to face with your center. Yet, as you looked up at him, you could see some desperation in his eyes, almost a plea, a beg. You shook your head slowly at him and he gave you a small smile. “Trust me…”

You nodded gently at him, and he looked down again to hook his finger at the band of your thong. He sat back and lifted your legs so he could slowly slide it away from you. Your eyes clenched together and before you could move and hide yourself by clenching your legs shut, he placed himself in between them, your knees hitting his hips. 

He crawled down again, looking down at your center like a starved man. He couldn’t just dive in, even if he were as hungry as ever, he couldn’t. You were nervous, and he knew that, so he looked up at you and saw your eyes just looking everywhere at the ceiling. 

“Eds— I– No one has ever…–” And he knew what you meant, so he started his kissing again, trying to soothe your tensed up legs, bending your knees slightly as he kissed the top of your thighs first, soft kisses and tender bites to let your relax, to tell you in his own way that he is going to take care of you, that he is not there to judge you, and that you didn’t make him do anything. He is doing it out of his pure greediness, his own selfishness, his own hunger and his own fire. 

“I’ll make you feel good love… It’s just me.” Those last words always relaxed you, always made your nerves slip away even if slightly, because he was right. It was just him. And you were glad it was always him, you were happy it was just him, you were excited that it was only him. His lips were now in your left inner thigh, kissing you gently, longingly, moving towards your center, and then repeating the actions on the right inner thigh, making you tremble with anticipation, your core clenching on nothing as you waited for what he could do to you.

And then he took a deep breath in, taking your scent in, seeing how wet you already were for him, and finally pressed a kiss over your clit, a gentle one, but it was enough to make you jerk at the sensation, your hands gripping onto the sheets below you. Your eyes were wide at this new sensation, and your belly turned from finally getting something to numb the burning ache. His arms were now under your thighs, and his hands gripped your hips to keep you in place as he finally gave in to his hunger and dove in.

A moan escaped your lips when he licked all along your slit, flicking your nub at the end, and repeating the motion again. Your mind turned into mush as he pressed himself into your center, licking and tasting you. You could feel his tongue flicking on your clit, and he started doing a motion you didn’t think it was possible to do with tongue. Your moans escalated as he moved his head up and down on you, gathering your slick as he groaned at the taste, the tip of his tongue sliding in between your folds repeatedly to feel your walls clenching on nothing.

He couldn’t believe how sweet you tasted. He could spend a lifetime here in between your legs if he could, if you’d let him, just taking orgasm after orgasm from you, never satiating his hunger for you. He was listening to your moans, to your panting as your back arched upwards and then it fell back down on the mattress. Your hips sway slightly against him. 

He then pressed his face against your center, nose against your clit as his tongue went inside of you and your eyes widened as stars filled your eyes. You could feel him move inside of you, and it was different from his fingers, but still made you moan even louder than before as your belly was building up that tension, slowly, that needed to break.

“Ed-Eddie–” Oh god, his name is on your lips again. He pulled his mouth away from you to flick your clit with the tip of it. His arm let go of your thigh, to bring it in between your legs. He sucked on your clit, your back arching as he coated his fingers in your wetness, first pushing his middle finger in.

A whimper came out of your lips at the feeling of your clit being stimulated as he plunged inside. The room was definitely on fire right now, the heat of it all being too harsh, but yet feeling so good. This is what you wanted. You didn’t want it extinguished, you wanted it to burn you alive. His finger started thrusting in and out of you as he kept stimulating your clit with his tongue and mouth.

He looked up and he almost came in his pants at the sight. You were moaning with no restraints, some ‘god’ and ‘fuck’ came out here and there, and he couldn’t help but rub himself against the mattress for some friction, because he was going to explode if he didn’t. His eyes looked at your hand on the mattress, so with his other hand, he let go of your thigh to guide towards your hand, getting hold of it.

Your eyes opened and looked down at him. His eyes closed as he guided your hand to his head, dropping his own to wrap around your thigh again as he pulled you into him once more. You were seeing him devouring you, his finger still going in and out of you as your body rocked slightly against him. Your hand immediately closed onto the top of his head, nails going into his curls, a groan being pushed inside your center as you did so.

The elastic band was slowly growing wider and wider, ready to snap in your belly, as your body heated up at the orgasm that was building inside of you. He felt the clenching of your walls around his middle finger, so he decided to help even more with his index finger, now both fingers stretching out as he pumped them in and out. His mouth never leaves your sensitive and throbbing nub.

Your eyes widened again, your hand pulling his head into you and then your other hand found itself into his curls as well, your belly now burning as he kept eating you as if your substance was the elixir of the gods. And for Eddie, it definitely was. He was still rubbing himself against the mattress as he felt your walls clenching around his fingers and your body twitched several times.

“I– I– Eddie, I’m gonna–” You were stammering in your words, not being able to think straight at all as he kept mouthing at you, fingering you, even faster than before, curling his fingers inside of you so that he could hit that spongy part within you, that part no one but him has ever touched before. 

He groaned in approval and moved his head up and down on you to move his tongue even faster, and he felt you moving your hips against him, trying to reach your climax and help him get to it faster. The coil finally snapped and your back arched all the way up as your walls clenched onto his fingers, tightly, and he could barely move them from how tight you were, groaning onto your clit as his eyes looked up to see you like this for him.

You were moaning his name, loudly, your hands still on his hair, gripping onto it as he helped you ride your orgasm out, tasting your fluids on his tongue. He slowly felt your walls unclench on his fingers, and he could take them out of you, but before he would completely detach himself from you, he licked a wide stripe of your slit to collect your juices, groaning in delight at the taste as you flinched away from the over sensitivity.

You were panting heavily, looking at the ceiling with half lidded eyes, and you thought the flames would be gone, that after that they would simply fade away… But they didn’t… And as you saw him crawling back up, his face over yours again, your slick being wiped off by his wrist, and that made you tremble slightly once again. 

So, have you got the guts?

“We can stop here… There is no need to keep going if you don’t want to.” You looked up at him, searching to see if he wanted to stop, if he wanted to really end the night here, unlike yourself. You didn’t want to stop, you needed more, you wanted more, this wasn’t enough, because you wanted to make him feel good too, but overall… You wanted to feel him. 

Your hands reached up to grab onto the hem of his shirt, and he immediately realized what you wanted. He sat back, and throwing his hand over his head, he grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it off in one swift move. You slowly sat up, your breathing still heavy from the orgasm that exploded in you a minute ago, but for the first time, you could see him. 

Tattoos lingered all over his body, a few patches of uncovered skin were there, but now you found yourself amazed by all the tattoos you had to trace. These new markings you wanted to mentally take a screenshot of to always remember them. Your hands lifted up, your mind filled with desire and lust, as you finally touched his abdominal area, making him throw his head back in a circle, a groan being restrained in his throat. 

Been wondering if your heart's still open, and if so, I wanna know what time it shuts.

He’s been touched like this before, but this is the first time he felt cared for, as if you were making sure to touch every little piece of skin that there was so that he knew you desired him as much as he desired you. Remember every small part of you, every little twitch, every marking, every mole, freckle… 

Your hands traveled upwards towards his pecs, running your hands over them and Eddie’s eyes widened when he felt your lips kiss over his belly button. He couldn’t wait anymore. He really couldn’t. He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you off him, so he could grab the back of your head, pulling it back so he could dive in and press a deep kiss on your lips.

You moaned into it, your hands still on his body as you ran your fingertips all over his waist, making his skin grow in goosebumps. With his free hand, he guided it towards his belt, the clinking of the buckle opening catching your attention, pulling away from him with a gasp. You were looking at how he took the leather strap off him, throwing it to the side, a clank being heard from the metal hitting the floor. 

Simmer down and pucker up

He licked his lips in anticipation as he tried to keep his breathing under control, but fuck, he never felt this way when having sex before, and he was afraid of fucking it up. His eyes widened though, when he felt your trembling fingers touching the button of his jeans. He gulped audibly as he looked down at you, pulling the button off and then slowly gliding the zipper down, just like he did with the zipper of your dress.

He stood up from the bed, right next to you to be able to take his pants off, which were a still wet mess, and you just stared at him, standing in your room in his boxers only. Your eyes widened at the prominent bulge that were covered by the black fabric, and you felt your mouth salivate, for the first time in your life, while looking at someone’s hard on. It didn’t happen with the men you dated before, but with Eddie, everything was just pure craving, pure desire, pure and absolute want. 

And you weren’t shying away from it.

He saw how you were watching him and he took a step closer to you so you could make the final move on him, the one that will determine how the rest of the night is going to go. You looked up at him, and the only person you saw was Eddie… Your sweet Eddie… And your hands moved by themselves as they grabbed onto the hem of his boxers, slowly dragging them down until you could finally see him, in all of his glory. It was large, and you really don’t remember enough to compare it to your exes, but this one, you knew you would remember. Before, you would have died to have complete darkness in the room, so you didn’t have to see them, but as the thunder struck against the sky and illuminated the room through the windows, it was like a camera flash to you, taking pictures of him, scanning him all over.

And you wanted him, you really wanted him.

You looked up at him, and he immediately knew what you were trying to tell him, with just one look into your eyes. He leaned down to grab onto your jaw with his thumb and index finger, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lips. You moaned against the touch and he groaned as his dick twitched, not being able to handle the anticipation any longer. He pulled away from the kiss to mumble against your lips.

I'm sorry to interrupt, it's just I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you.

“Condoms are in my jacket–” You couldn’t afford the seconds it took for him to go get his jacket, so you opened the drawer on your night table to show him the box of condoms you had there. He raised an eyebrow at it and then directed it at you. Nervousness broke into your body as you looked down. 

“I-I bought them after we– you started giving me advice…” He smirked at you and then grabbed onto the box, closing the drawer. An unopened box of condoms. He opened the pack and took a foil out, and then pushed you to lay back down onto the bed as he kneeled in between your legs again. Your breathing picked up again as you saw him rip the foil off with his teeth, taking the latex out of the package.

I don't know if you feel the same as I do.

He threw the rest somewhere on the floor, and you watched as he slowly rolled the condom on his shaft, your center clenching at nothing as he groaned at the friction of finally being able to touch himself. If he was this sensitive with just rolling the condom on himself, he was sure he wasn’t going to last with you. Your legs were bent and spread, him coming closer to you to finally cover your body with his, his elbows keeping him up in order to not crush you.

He leaned down to take your lips in his again, this time softer, tenderly, and your eyes closed into the feeling, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your lips moved with one another’s, feeling your heart beating into your throat as you lost yourself into his tongue, but then your eyes widened when you felt him line himself up against you. 

He groaned into the kiss when he felt his tip going in, just his tip, and he was already moaning at the feeling of it. This was definitely different from any other times he had sex. This wasn’t just that, it was way more, because he felt his whole body being run over by electricity and fire included. 

But we could be together... if you wanted to.

“Angel, you need to relax– Relax for me…” You didn’t notice how tense you were until he pulled away from you to tell you that. Your eyes locked with his and he was looking down at you with care, with so much care and worry that you sighed, feeling your heart warm at his thought, and your muscles relaxed on him. One of his elbows was keeping him up, while his other hand was pressed on your waist to have some leverage on reality.

He looked down to where you two were beginning to connect as he sunk further, holding in a groan in his throat again, closing his eyes at the feeling, and your mouth fell into a voiceless gasp, staring at the ceiling. It felt good, yet it was a big stretch, but god it felt good. It was painfully good. You could feel him going deeper, each second that passed, your hands all over his back, nails scratching onto his skin.

He leaned down into your exposed neck to make him think of something else as he pulled back slightly, to then thrust into you again, this time further, letting a choked moan escape your lips. He kissed your skin, as he groaned into it, feeling your chest heaving up and down from the intense pleasure you were starting to feel. 

Do I wanna know, if this feeling flows both ways?

“Pl–Please Eddie–” He raised his head to look down at you, to look into your eyes when he finally made the final push, and he bottomed out inside of you, a gasp escaping your lips as a groan escaped his.

“Fuck…” He couldn’t help but curse at the extreme feeling he was experiencing with you. You were full of him, and you loved it, god you were loving it. Your heartbeat against your chest as your legs raised up against his hips to feel him even more into you. He looked at your eyes again and you nodded slowly, not wanting to wait any longer, the room already becoming hell from how hot it was, and he sucked a deep breath in as he threw his hips back, and slowly thrusted back inside of you.

Moans filled the room, volume increasing at each slow thrust of his, a pace that was driving him insane, but when looking down at your face, he knew you were loving. He leaned down to kiss your cheek as he kept moving his hips against yours, your hands gripping the back of his head as he moaned into your skin, his muscles flexing at the intensity of it all. 

You needed more, more, more, you couldn’t stop chanting that word in your head, so your hips started moving, going against his rhythm to fasten the pace, to make him go deeper into you, because your belly was screaming for more, your heart was tugging for more, your body needed more of him, more of Eddie.

Sad to see you go, was sorta hoping that you'd stay.

“You don’t know– You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this… To have you like this– fuck.” He moaned into your ear and you whimpered at the words, tears prickling in your eyes as he caught your message and his pace quickened, now the slapping of skin being louder, causing your body to flush all over, and you wanted to tell him the same, you wanted to express to him that you wanted him, that you took some time to realize it, but it had always been there.

He pulled away from your skin to put both hands at the side of your head, staring down at you, as his hips started snapping against yours, the feeling of him inside of you deeper than before, the force of his thrusts sending you into a crazed state, into a place in your mind where you didn’t know who you were, or where you were at.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and he moaned a curse when he felt you pushing him into yourself, your nails scratching onto his arms now, your mouth open with moans coming out of it, eyes closed and lost in the pleasure. He gulped heavily as he looked down at your body, taking mental pictures of how you bounced, of how you moved, of how your body twitched and yearned for him. 

Baby, we both know… That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day.

“Eddie– Eddie, god–” You moaned loud, your senses all filled with him, your body marked by him, your insides being full of him, each hard thrust, every change of pace, every moan you heard from him. You couldn’t have enough, and your belly was already coiling again with that elastic band, wanting to break loose. 

He was breathing heavily, sweat now prickling on his skin instead of the water rain from before. He felt himself getting close, how could he not? He had rubbed himself on you, on the mattress, and pleasuring you was almost enough to make him finish right then and there. He stopped his movements to wrap his arms around you, lifting your upper body off the mattress, as he sat back, making you sit on him in a straddling position.

“Ed-Eds, I don’t know, this position–” You breathed heavily as your mind tried to think again but he shook his head, holding onto your hips as he kissed your neck softly, mumbling onto your skin.

“I’ll guide you, I’ll help you—” And he started guiding you up and down on him, slowly, as your hands clenched on his shoulders, your mouth falling agape at how deeper he was than before. You never changed positions, and this was very new to you, but your embarrassment was completely overshadowed by the incredible lust you were feeling, by the desire of wanting to keep making him feel good. 

Crawling back to you. Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do.

You followed his guidance, your hips moving up and down, almost bouncing on him, his thighs clenching at the feeling as his moans filled the room. His arms were wrapped around you, pulling you flushed into his own body. He just wanted you close, closer, wanting to feel your skin on his as you both tried to near your climax. Your hand creeped up onto his hair, and just like that first night you saw each other, you grabbed his ponytail, with no guidance, and pulled his hair off the bun he had, letting his curls fall down onto his shoulders. He smiled up at you, shaking his head as you leaned down to capture his lips with your own, licking onto his bottom lip as you kept your pace on him.

Your walls started clenching on him, and he knew he was going to lose it. He pulled away from you and then he leaned down to take a nipple of yours into his mouth, sucking on it, and that made you throw your head back with a loud moan escaping your lips, the coil in your belly about to break, about to make you see stars once more. Your nails were digging into his skin, and you needed more friction, you needed more.

“Eddie– Eddie–” You asked for him, you asked for help, and he nodded, pulling away from your chest to look up at you. He pushed your hips down, not letting you go up again, and started motioning you to go forward and back, rubbing yourself on him. Your eyes widened when you felt this new feeling. This position was letting you rub your spongy part on him, your g-spot, repeatedly, and that was making your mind lose complete control of your body.

Your hips started grinding against his, faster, and faster, trying to reach that climax, and he was almost whining underneath you, trying to hold in his own orgasm to be able to feel you around him first. He needed to feel you clench around him, he needed it. Your upper body was thrown back slightly as one hand was gripped onto his shoulder and the other on his arm that was still holding you.

“Fuck, Angel–” You looked like a goddess to him right now, using him for your own pleasure, grinding faster and faster until he felt your tense up, the elastic band in your belly breaking again, your vision going completely white as your walls clenched tightly around him, a new type of climax, one that would not compare to anything else in your entire life.

Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new, now, I've thought it through.

“Eddie–!” You screamed his name and he was moaning as he felt your walls sucking him in and he couldn’t hold it in anymore, your name falling off his lips in a chant, in a prayer as his own body stiffened, and he finally released himself inside of the condom, his heart exploding inside his chest as you both rode your orgasms with one another.

Heavy pants were heard all over the room, and Eddie held you up as your body felt a little wobbly from everything you just experienced. Your mind was almost gone, drifting away, slowly, your eyes heavy but there is so much you want to say, so much you want to do, but the fire was gone. For the first time, the fire was gone for a while.

“Angel–” He breathed out, and he felt you clench on him again, making him curse. “Don’t do that… Sweetheart, let’s get cleaned up…” He really didn’t want to move, but he knew you two were completely soaked in sweat, in rain, and that you needed to clean yourself. He helped you off him, pulling out of you earning a whimper from your part at the loss of him. 

He got up from the bed and he noticed the hazy look in your eyes. You were drained, he knew that, so he guided you into the bathroom for you to clean yourself up as he took the wet comforter off your bed for the two of you to lay on dry sheets at least. His heart was wildly beating in his chest, taking the condom off him and tying it up. He looked at the tissues that were on the other night table, grabbing some to put the condom inside to hide it in a ball of paper, before cleaning himself with some tissues. 

He heard the toilet flush, and he looked at the door to see you walking inside in still a dizzy state, and opening the sheets to finally get inside. He smiled at you, knowing how much energy was just drained from you. He pulled the sheets open to move towards you. You were looking at him, trying to keep your eyes open to talk to him, but only one thing came out.

“I want to kiss you…” He felt his whole body relax at that, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips. You gave a sigh out of relief as you immediately fell asleep. His heart was in his throat as he looked down at you, breathing evenly now, and he took a deep breath in as he laid down on the bed himself, and he looked at you again.

He never cuddled after sex. Cuddling after sex meant you cared for the other person, so he never felt the need to do such a thing, but now… He needs to keep you close. He needs to keep you with him at all times. He needs you to be in his arms at every time possible, because he can’t ever let go of you again. No, he can’t let you go.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him as you mumbled something in your sleep, finally making you rest on top of his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. His heart was exploding, he knew that, but he wanted you. He really wanted you. He had wanted you for the past month. He got you, and it wasn’t enough, and he knew it wasn’t going to be enough. 

With a smile to his face, he closed his eyes, succumbing to sleep, knowing that tomorrow everything will change between the two of you, and there was no escaping it, no way of avoiding it. Now, it was time to face it all, and Eddie was going head first because for you… Everything was worth it when it came to you.

Do you want me crawling back to you?

End of part 6

A/N: So... yeah. Here you saw the reason why this fic is called Do I wanna know... and if it wasn't specific enough, it is indeed Eddie's feelings towards Reader.

I hope you liked this chapter, i hope you stayed far enough and always reblog your artists!

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[thetriumphantpanda]

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders | Javier Peña

Series Summary | Javier Peña has been your dad's best friend for as long as you can remember. He's also been the apple of your eye since you were old enough to know what that meant. Obsessed, some might say, in love is what you'd say. Now, he's back to Laredo for good, single but cloaked in a darkness you want to unravel. Surely, now you're all grown, he'll see you as more than his friends daughter, as someone who can ease his trouble and take the weight of his shoulders.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Series Warnings | Age gap relationship (12 years), forbidden/taboo relationship, slow burn, mutual pining, outrageous flirting, descriptions of PTSD and panic attacks, soft!Javi, protective!Javi, explicit smut, reader is innocent but not inexperienced, grumpy x sunshine vibes, canon-typical violence, mentions of the drug trade, drug use and drug related deaths and violence, Javier Peña gets his own warning (even more so as dbf - he's gonna be a menace).

Authors Note | I've missed Javier Peña so much so here we fucking go I guess? Huge shout out as always to @morning-star-joy who has been on the receiving end of SO much screaming about these two.

Main Masterlist | Series Playlist

Chapters

Chapters marked with ** indicate smut.

Chapter One - my lonely days are over

Chapter Two - pining & desperately waiting

Chapter Three - where have all the good men gone?

Chapter Four - one kiss is all it takes

Chapter Five - it's new, the shape of your body **

Chapter Six - get down on your knees and tell me you love me **

Chapter Seven - i only wanna worship you **

Chapter Eight - i don’t really wanna fight, ‘cause nobody’s gonna win **

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen.

Extras

Fic moodboard by @cavillscurls

Fic moodboard by @sawymredfox

Chapter One moodboard by @hellishjoel

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña smut #Javier Peña fluff #Javier Peña angst #javier peña fic #Javier Peña fanfic #Javier Peña fanfiction #javier peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña x female reader #Javier Peña x f!reader #narcos #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #narcos smut #Javier Peña narcos #Pedro Pascal #Javier Peña Pedro Pascal #TTWOHS

[onmyyan]

Kiss the goat

A/N: Horror isekai? Horror isekai, here's part one of the Scream chapters, unedited, hope you like cuz it was so much fun writing

Pairing: Yandere Poly Ghostface x reader

It was such an odd sensation, you don't think you'd ever truly get used to it, no matter how many times it washed over you.

It was always the same, tranquil lull, and it always started in your lower tummy, like this wave of ice cold water suddenly replaced all the blood in your veins.

Whenever you first 'woke up' somewhere new, that damn feeling was always the first thing you noticed, and the only warning you'd get.

This time though, something was different. There was this mix of fear, confusion, and awe tossed in with the lull because you clocked your location immediately.

Ba-dum Ba-dum Ba-dum

For a moment all you could hear was the the blood pounding in your eardrums, slowly , as you forced yourself to breathe, the surrounding noises faded in, at first it was just the chatter of a busy school, then you noticed the shuffle of feet dragging on concrete, with your heart pounding furiously against your rib cage, you pinched your thigh through your baggy blue jeans and began walking, focusing on forcing your feet to move, rather than the millions of other thoughts buzzing through your skull. Why? Well because there you stood, dropped right before the soon-to-be infamous Woodsboro High.

As you walked amongst the crowd of people there were a few things you noticed immediately about yourself, at least this version of yourself, which seemed to change with every new plot you were forcibly thrown in.

The jeans you wore were loose fitting and well loved, small holes in the denim here and there  gave you a typical 90's degenerate vibe, the soft cotton of the band T-shirt you were in felt comfortable against your skin, around your waist hung a oversized burgundy flannel with accents of mustard yellow, the fabric looked old and smelled of weed, a sigh rolled through your chest at the familiar smell, it was a bittersweet reminder of your life before this insanity began.

Glancing down at your outfit made you breath out a sigh of relief, at least you dressed better in this one. In the small shirt pocket, you felt a book of matches, the scratchy texture of telling you what it was without needing to pull it out, good to know.

Shaking your head you try your best to look as bored and uninteresting as possible, you've found these things were best tackled from a stealthy perspective. As you finally enter the school, the second you step through the open doors, there's this intense, hair-raising feeling that washes over you, everything in your gut is saying run away, turn around, but you don't.

Instead, you swallow the fight-or-flight instincts and continue your pace as if you hadn't noticed the predatory stare on you. It didn't surprise you, after all, the self-proclaimed directors of this twisted movie were bound to notice a new player being introduced so suddenly, you just hadn't yet gotten used to the uneasy feeling of being in the presence of a murderer.

Or in this movies case, murderers.

The stares you received from the rest of the student body helped to distract you from the heavy stares burning into you, as you leisurely walked down the halls people either mean-mugged you or ignored you, it helped to get a better feel for the role you'd been assigned, depending on how well you played said role was going to determine whether or not you ended up on the kill count.

For now, you kept it pushing, your hands resting comfortably in the pockets of your jeans, your right hand, which you only now noticed was covered in rings, brushed against the cool touch of something small and metal, you quickly pulled out the object to reveal a switchblade, the handle a glossy white with a simple heart scratched into the surface, quickly you tucked it back where you'd found it.

The grin that had stretched across your face as you traversed the halls was downright wicked, in your mini search you'd also come across a crinkled class schedule and a pack of gum. Curious (e/c) eyes diligently scanned the face of every student that passed, searching for any clue as to when exactly you'd popped in, having a clear timeline in mind made these things run so much smoother.

Casey Beckem gave you that answer in the form of a cliché shoulder check as she rounded the corner. She made a point to dust off the area that had touched you, and her scoff of 'Watch it freak.' made a snort leave your nose, god you loved the 90s, even the bullying was better.

Considering she was still amongst the living, you gathered this was before the start of the movie, fantastic. You pushed forward, far too wrapped up in your building excitement to pay any mind to the very dangerous man you'd caught the sight of.

You found your first class a few minutes early, thankfully the school's layout wasn't too hard to navigate, you were intent on taking proper inventory and prepping as well as you could. The teacher took you in with a surprised noise, clearly judging your character on your appearance.

You'd gotten pretty good at handling your, particular situation, so good in fact you'd begun to relax a little. Taking a seat by the window in the back felt very final girl of you, the thought making you giggle to yourself. Whatever entity responsible for isekaing you into this movie flashed between a real asshole and a slightly smaller asshole with each reincarnation, this time it looked like they were feeling nice as you started with a weapon. 

Your inner workings were put on an abrupt pause as Randy Meeks burst in through the door earning a glare from the otherwise silent teacher. The bright-eyed male made a beeline for you, his expression was akin to a puppy who just had its bone taken away.

"What the Hell San Francisco? I spent the last 15 minutes running around like some mook looking for ya'." he paused to sit down at the desk directly on your right. "You ask a guy to show you around then ditch em'? Cruel, undeniably cruel." You learned pretty quickly to just roll with it whenever someone from Canon spoke to you.

"My bad Meeks, I'll make it up to you." At this, the energetic man rolled his eyes, now leaning even closer. "Oh yeah? Meaning what- you'll actually take me up on my offer instead of responding with that cold familiar brand of cynicism? C'mon, it'll be funnnn." He trailed off in a whine. "Whoever told you begging was an option for you lied." You laughed, shaking your head at the way he visibly deflated.

You kicked your faded black Converse all star's on the back of the seat before you, legs bouncing as you allowed yourself to ponder your answer, the nervous habit had developed sometime between this movie, and one of your earlier incarnations and subsequent deaths.

This was a little more complicated, see the omnipotent fuck who put you here liked to screw with you, very much into the concept of seeing you mix with whatever plot that laid before you, so much so that anytime you fought against whatever scenario you were thrust into in any way you died horribly. The first time you'd been plopped into a movie was the original My Bloody Valentine,- a chill ran through your body like a punch to the gut at the thought, yeah you'd come a long way since then in terms of working the system but nothing was set in stone.

You figured whatever this offer from Randy was, would no doubt tie you into the plot, knowing better than to fight the waves, you pretended to think about it before shrugging. "Sure. I'll bite." The simple statement had him shooting out of his chair to fist pump before quickly falling back in his seat.

"Yessss-okay it's super easy, I spend my time rewinding the utter garbage the general population consumes on a daily." He was practically buzzing in his seat as he spoke. "Once in a while, the boss leaves for an extra long lunch break and I get to watch whatever I want- Child's Play, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street- you name it I got it." The redhead spoke proudly, leaning back against his chair with a self-satisfied look.

"You should be a salesman Meeks." The male bristled beside you, a tinge of red on his cheeks. "Yeah yeah, whatever Frisco- don't come crying to me when you don't have anyone to sit with at lunch." He teased, leaning over his desk, you smile toying with the ring on your hand, popping your neck with a sigh you took a second before responding, "Oh god, how will I ever survive sitting alone, whatever will I do." you spoke in a dead tone making the male at your side pout.

"You're cold (L/n), couldn't even pretend to care about my threat huh?"

You looked over with a teasing grin, "Course' not- I'm not a liar Randy.", it was then and only then that you noticed the tall Blonde unashamedly staring you down from the door.

Stu Macher had made his appearance earlier than expected but you didn't sweat it, or the almost hungry look he was giving you. Nope, not sweating at all. Instead, you quickly averted your eyes, praying he hadn't caught your stare.

He had, naturally.

The taller male nearly took up the entire door frame, he looked a lot more intimidating in person. The playful look on his face was all the more haunting the more you thought about who he really was underneath it. What he was hours away from doing.

Randy, feeling the sudden rise in tension, refused to be left out, and tried to not so subtly block Stu's vision of you by standing up and not so casually sitting on his desk, his back to the future killer. "Anyway Frisco', I don't want you mixin' in with the wrong crowd okay?" He made a point to flick his eyes back towards the now pouting blonde, "Bad company makes for bad times. Just stick with me I'll show you the ropes." He made sure to mutter that last part, his expression drenched in fear for the briefest moment.

Before you could respond Stu had rather aggressively climbed his way over a few desks to plop into the seat in front of you.

His dimpled grin was rather infectious.

"Now that's no way to talk about your friends Randy." He almost seethed out his name making the shorter male curl in on himself like a rabbit, he turned to face you with flare.

"Hi, there hot stuff- Stu Macher, bad company." He took your hand in his much larger one, completely enveloping your own, the tension was broken by the comical handshake, how hard he shook it up and down dispelled all previous bad vibes, his devious little grin only grew at your response, "Hi Stu, I'm (Y/n). Worse company."

"So whatcha' running from in San Francisco? Girl's like you don't just show up outta nowhere for no reason." He didn't even try to hide the way he was checking you out, his half-lidded eyes eagerly drinking in every inch of the alluring stranger before him.

"Who says I'm running big guy? I might be the one doing the chasing." Maybe teasing a soon-to-be serial killer wasn't the smartest move, but you just couldn't help it, he leaned his head into his palm, the wide toothy grin promising nothing but trouble. "I think I like you- come sit with us at lunch."

"You askin' or telling?" You met his heated gaze with a cold indifference that only fueled the ever-growing fire burning in his belly. The larger male quickly fell to his knees from his seat on the chair, bringing his hands together in a dramatic motion, "Pretty pretty please hot new kid come sit with meee." The laugh tumbling past your lips was real, you quickly ushered him back to his seat, "As nice as ya look on your knees- this is embarrassing please get the hell up I'll sit with you."

He backed off with a victorious grin not knowing you'd just lied through your teeth, there was no way in hell you'd willingly put yourself in Billy's cross hairs, Stu was unavoidable apparently, but Billy? You'd hold out as long as you could, when lunch rolled around you managed to convince Randy to eat on the roof, and used the friendly conversation to get more information out of him.

It was during this conversation you discovered in this world, whoever you were, was Randy's new neighbor.

After the school bell had rung for the final time, you made a point to linger around Randy, usually, when you spawned in one of these things the plot was well into swing, but this time you were here early, and the change in routine felt all the more dangerous.

Thankfully, Randy came to your rescue, you tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear him say,

"-if you even want to that is- we'd mostly be watching the classics." He finished nervously glancing to and from, you managed to space back just in time to greet him with a half smile and a shrug. "Lead the way, Meeks."

"It's so cool how you live next door- when you told me at first I thought you were yankin' my chain." He said bouncing his way down the road.

Randy had stumbled home with sleep in his eye sometime around midnight, you weren't too worried for the guy as you knew they hadn't started their spree yet.

That was until the phone rang. 

For a moment all you did was stare. You knew who was on the other end it just didn't make any sense. 

Swallowing the thick ice cube of fear suddenly in your throat, you caught your breath as casually as you could.

As if on autopilot your hand scooped up the house phone, you surprised yourself with how calm your greeting was.

"Hello?.."

"Hey there sweet thing- you're up awful late aren't ya?" You tried to look as casual as you could, steadily making your way to every door, and securing each entrance, but it was hard to ignore the twinge of accusation in his tone.

"You're up too.." Was what you managed to get out, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Hm, that's fair. What were you up to? Have some fun with your boyfriend?" The last word sounded harder than the rest, with no humor in his tone, almost as if it was said through gritted teeth, like whoever spoke it spat the word out.

So he was definitely watching you, your mind racked with the best answer to keep Randy from harm's way.

"Just watching some scary movies with a friend- you like em'?" You asked leaning against the island in your kitchen. "Oh, honey- you've got no idea." Before you could respond he continued, "I will see you later gorgeous." and then he was gone

#yananswers #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere male #yandere slashers #yandere slasher x reader #yandere ghostface #ghostface x reader #yandere billy loomis #yandere stu macher #yandere ghostface x reader #poly ghostface x reader #poly ghost face #kiss the goat

[ginnsbaker]

In Silent Screams (2/3)

Several weeks into her affair with Vision, the voice inside Wanda's head urging her to end things diminishes to faint murmurs, eventually fading away entirely.

Chapter word count: 8k+ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision Warnings: Smut (F/M), Cheating, Angst, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dubious Consent, Toxic Relationships

Notes: M rating this time. It gets spicier because what's between them is just pure lust. There will be a full smut scene that is a bit triggering given the context of how it happens, why it happens. I will mark it in red so you can skip it. Again, you will probably hate Wanda here more than the previous part, be warned.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

-

Part II

Comfort starts to creep in, wrapping around Wanda like a cozy blanket.

Several weeks into her affair with Vision, the voice inside Wanda's head urging her to end things diminishes to faint murmurs, eventually fading away entirely. And as she allows herself to indulge in the newness of his body and all the ways he is different and not what she’s used to, it becomes even more pleasurable (and addicting) for her when they come together. 

Wanda starts to think that maybe being with Vision like this doesn't take away from the love she has for you. It's almost as if she's compartmentalized herself—her relationship with you remains sacred, undisturbed by the dalliances that occupy her days. Vision has become a separate chapter, a deviation from the norm, but he's not taking the place of what she's built with you over time. Every night, regardless of how late it gets or how entangled she becomes in her meetings with Vision, she finds herself retracing her steps back to you. Her days begin with your face, and they end with your arms around her. There's a routine in that, a certainty she clings to.

Being with Vision helps her forget she's even in Westview. She's less haunted by the child she couldn't have with you, by the job she left behind for your sake. She dwells less on missing you, on feeling like she's become a secondary character in your life as you work tirelessly to provide for her. And isn't that what marriage truly is? More than the vows and the rings, it's about choosing the same person every day. It's about finding ways not to hold grudges, to keep the bond strong, to maintain a balance, right?

Her friendship with Vision, devoid of the usual societal filters, feels pure. They share, they debate, they laugh. But as the sun sets, Wanda always knows where she belongs. 

To you. 

-

“You’re kidding.”

Vision glances back at her over his shoulder, flashing a playful grin. They're in a park just outside of town, a result of those spontaneous drives they occasionally take. They've found a quiet corner, a place where they can be with each other, away from the rules of their complicated lives. Him being her student makes everything that much more delicate.

“Why would I joke about something like that?” he says, looking pleased with himself.

Wanda puts down the essay she’s reviewing and leans back on the picnic blanket, shielding her eyes from the sun. “You seriously want to buy art from the gallery?”

He shrugs, “I like what they showcase. Plus, I thought... well, it might be a good opportunity for you to earn a commission.”

It’s a weak argument and they both know it. She smirks, “Trying to impress someone?”

Vision pauses, taking a deep breath, serious as he says, “Maybe.”

Wanda sighs, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. “Vision, we need to be careful.”

“Careful? Wanda, we're miles away from Westview. I'd say we're being pretty meticulous about this.” He smirks, pointing to the tall trees that shield them from any possible onlookers. “With all these trees and not a bird in sight, we could even fuck right here in the open if we wanted to.”

Wanda fixes him with a sharp gaze, one that immediately conveys her disapproval. Immediately, the smirk fades from his lips, replaced by  a realization that he might have gone too far with his teasing. He reads the message in her eyes loud and clear. Not only is his suggestion off the table, but he also senses that he may have jeopardized his luck in the coming days.

“I… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, going back to his sketchpad. They don’t speak to each other for a while. Wanda is deeply engrossed in the essays she has to review, already behind the deadline she set for herself, while Vision gives her space to cool down from his mistake. Their arguments are always brief but intense, and lately, they haven't been leading to sex as often as Vision would prefer.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Vision starts, “How is it, being with Y/N? Being married, I mean.”

Wanda stiffens at the mention of your name. She's never discussed you with Vision, and a surge of panic begins to rise within her. She hides her reaction by neatly rearranging the papers alphabetically in front of her. 

“I told you she’s off limits,” she answers a moment later.

Vision feigns surprise, tilting his head slightly. “Ah, my apologies. I meant no disrespect,” he says, his voice carefully neutral.

Wanda purses her lips, her posture tensing further. “Just... let's not go there.”

Vision nods, though he can't help but steal a quick glance at the wedding ring on her finger. It taunts him everytime he sees it, reminding him of the life she shares with someone else—a life he often finds himself yearning to be a part of. He's been daydreaming about a different reality, where Wanda is by his side not on borrowed time, where he is the one she turns to at the end of a long day.

He's persuaded her to share her thoughts with him, to spread her legs for him; how much more challenging could it be to win her heart next? He'll take it one day at a time if he has to. Patience is something he doesn't mind exercising.

Cleverly masking his intentions behind a facade of casual curiosity, Vision continues, “Hypothetically speaking, if you were to give insights on marriage, just in general...What are your thoughts?” He leans back, making the conversation seem casual, though every word is carefully calculated.

She glances at him, slightly suspicious but not fully alarmed. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Oh, you know," Vision waves his hand dismissively. “It's just something that's been on my mind lately. As a concept, I mean.”

Wanda narrows her eyes slightly, studying him. She knows Vision well enough to understand that behind his seemingly innocent inquiries, there's often an ulterior motive. But she also knows that he's persistent, and sometimes, the best way to deal with him is to play along, to a point.

“It’s…” Wanda finds herself grappling for an answer. She hadn’t expected that the answer would be much more complex now given recent events. She used to look at it in an idealized way, where marriage is what happens at the end of an epic love story, the banner over the path that the two main characters continue their journey on; the natural conclusion when people say 'happily ever after'.

Perhaps she's been wrong to view it that way all along. Perhaps marriage is just a tool to peel back the facade meticulously crafted during dating, for nothing remains hidden in marriage. To enforce a commitment that's always existed. To harness the rights it bestows between two individuals. To—

Wanda can list countless facets of marriage, and yet it wouldn’t change the way she feels about you, with or without it. She can change—she has, and marriage can vanish from the world, her love for you would persist unscathed. While every fiber of her being might be judged for her actions, she believes her love can’t be tainted. She’s sure of it. And so, essentially, marriage is—

“...it’s an indemnity.”

It’s not at all what he assumed she’d say. “An indemnity? That's an... interesting choice of word.”

Wanda nods, pushing a stray hair behind her ear with a thoughtful look. “Right. It's like our safety net, not just from what's out there but from our own doubts too. It's us saying to ourselves—and to anyone watching—that no matter how tough things get, we're in it together.  It's a promise that even in the darkest times, we'll stand by each other.”

Vision absorbs her words, trying to see the cracks, the spaces where he could insert doubt or lay the groundwork for his plans. “But don’t you think,” he ventures cautiously, “that sometimes, that very protection, that indemnity, becomes the chain that binds? Don’t you ever feel... trapped?”

Wanda takes a deep breath, sensing the subtext of his question. He has a knack for drawing out the very things she's trying so hard to keep from him. In the end, she still ends up talking about you. If he's truly eager to hear what she has to say about you, then Wanda doesn’t care if he won’t like what he hears.

“I know what you’re trying to do here,” Wanda says with a wry smile. “To assume she's the one trapping me would be a gross misunderstanding.”

He laughs for a long moment. It's loud and over the top, and somewhere in the midst of it, it begins to feel like an insult. Wanda lifts her chin, unfazed by his antics.

After a few moments, Vision's laughter subsides, replaced by a somber look. “I apologize,” he says, even as Wanda goes back to her readings. “I didn’t mean to make light of your feelings. It's just... sometimes I feel like you're still lying to yourself, Wanda.”

Wanda's eyes narrow, her stance firm, but she doesn't rise to the bait immediately.  “How am I lying?”

There it is—his opening.

“Yes. Sometimes, I wonder if you're using these philosophical explanations as a way to protect yourself from confronting something deeper. Something you might not want to face,” he says.

She chuckles, but it's devoid of any real amusement. “And what might that be?”

“That maybe,” Vision says, crawling closer to her until they're just a breath away. “Maybe being with her isn't everything you once believed it to be.”

A retort forms on Wanda's lips, ready to be unleashed. But as she looks into Vision's eyes, she notices something genuine and disarming in them. 

“All I’m saying is that you don’t need to defend yourself around me,” he murmurs, his voice gentle, fingers lightly grazing her cheek. “You don't need to explain yourself. Not about this, not about anything.”

His lips find the curve of her neck, placing a chaste kiss there, sending a shiver down her spine, making her sigh softly. 

“You can enjoy that,” he whispers against her skin, voice husky. His lips move upward, caressing her cheek before they meet hers. His hand slides to her waist, pulling her closer, until she’s on his lap, straddling him. Her skirt rides up her thighs, allowing him easy access to her dampening underwear.

Wanda shifts nervously. “Vision, we're in public,” she whispers sharply, but doesn’t make any move to get away from him.

His lips twitch into a confident smirk. “I know.” His fingers daringly slide beneath the hem of her skirt, edging towards her panties. “Don't worry,” he assures her, “I just wanted to see if your body tells the truth, even if your words might not.”

Her breath catches as his fingers find the growing wetness there. “See?” he murmurs, his mouth twisting into a boyish grin. “Your body doesn't lie.”

She enjoys it. To be brutally honest, without the haunting thought of your reaction if you were to find out, she concedes she savors their meetings. She’s attracted to him and it’s consuming her every thought. 

Wanda blushes furiously, coupled with the fear of being discovered like this, she’s surrendered to this wicked game. He doesn’t worship her like you do. He doesn’t try to make her feel like nothing is her fault the way you do. Why weren’t you disappointed that she couldn’t get pregnant? Couldn’t contribute to your household like equals? Why didn’t you agonize over the financial repercussions of her relentless quest to start a family with you?

Why won’t you ever, ever hate her?

It's twisted that she even thinks of you as she tilts her hips upwards, urging Vision to touch her just right.

Without warning, Vision plunges his long middle finger inside her, causing Wanda to gasp and grip onto him. The intimate intrusion is brief, and she barely has time to process the sensation when he withdraws, pushing her off his lap and onto the soft grass beside him. He holds his glistening finger up to the light, then brings it to his lips, never breaking eye contact with her. She watches, entranced, as he deliberately savors her taste.

Wanda’s chest rises and falls rapidly, every nerve in her body alive and buzzing. She feels exposed, laid bare both by his actions and by the force of her own arousal. There's a delicious humiliation in it, a thrill of being seen and wanted so openly.

But before she can get a chance to speak, Vision reaches into his pocket, producing an envelope thick with cash and hands it to her. She doesn't need to count it to know it's a significant amount.

“What the fuck is this?” Wanda asks, looking down at the cash in her hands.

He laughs again. He enjoys riling her up. Makes this all the more charged and exciting.

“It's for the painting from your old gallery,” Vision explains calmly. “Going back to that, yes, I want to purchase it. And that’s just 50% of my intended offer.”

Wanda reflects on all the support you've offered her, the financial aid you generously extended without ever demanding explanations. A portion of the money in the envelope—her future commission— could be a start, a way to repay some of the debts she owes you, even if it doesn't cover everything.

Not that you’ve ever asked her to pay you back. You’ve never once hinted at any imbalance in financial obligations in your relationship.

“I shouldn't take this,” she mumbles, yet her fingers clutch the envelope a little tighter.

“I want to,” he insists. “Although, I want a special request.”

Wanda's eyebrow arches in skepticism. “Which is?”

“A handwritten dedication from you, when the painting is delivered,” he replies.

She averts her gaze. “I’ll think about it.”

Vision nods. “Keep the money while you do.”

-

Wanda starts leaving the house early too, going to her lover’s apartment before they go to the university together.

Vision sits comfortably on the plush couch, engrossed in his video game, his fingers swiftly moving over the controller. Wanda enters, shrugging off her light jacket, her simple, functional underwear visible from the thin material of her dress.

“You know, Wanda,” he begins casually, “Have you ever considered just... being in your natural state here?”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks, helping herself to some tea.

“Your body is a work of art,” he replies, pausing the game now and turning to face her fully. “And as someone who appreciates art...” His gaze travels to her current choice of undergarments and back up to her eyes, leaving his sentence hanging.

“Are you suggesting I walk around here naked?”

He grins cheekily. “The thought did cross my mind.”

Wanda's cheeks flush. “That’s not happening.”

“Alright, maybe not that,” he relents with a mock sigh. “But perhaps wear something more... refined? Exquisite?” His emphasis on 'exquisite' draws a clear line between what she currently wears and what he's suggesting. 

She's always prided herself on being confident, knowing her worth. But Vision’s playful, yet sharp suggestion chips away at her armor just a bit. For a split second, she wonders if this is how he truly sees her. If her choice of underwear, something so personal and intimate, is a reflection of her self-worth in his eyes. It's crazy to let his comment get to her; she's aware of that. But she can't help but think of you, of the intimate times you both share, the mornings she finds herself waking up beside you, and the nights you take off her clothes.

Do you notice? She wonders. Do you think the same?

It's all these tiny moments, insignificant on their own, but together they build a narrative in her mind. A story where maybe you don't desire her as you once did. That thought affects her more than Vision's words. The insecurity, an old nemesis she thought she had left far behind, resurfaces.

Wanda forces a nonchalant smile. “Why don't you mind your own business, and focus on your own wardrobe choices?” she retorts, but there's a lack of her usual sharpness in her tone.

He snickers, going back to his game. She hopes you don't see her the way he does. 

-

She buys a new set of lingerie—for you.

-

Wanda decides she’ll do it by the end of the week. Determined to finalize the sale, she picks up the phone while dinner simmers on the stove. With you still out, Sparky remains her only companion, and a pang of guilt strikes her for having neglected him lately.

She dials the gallery. After a few rings, the familiar voice perkily answers. “Hello?”

“Agatha, it's Wanda,” she says. “About the painting I texted you earlier. My buyer is all in.”

“There's already a bid on it,” Agatha interrupts, “with a deposit ready to go. But if you can secure the painting by tomorrow at the latest, it’s yours to sell.”

“Thanks. I'll make it happen.”

Only after hanging up does she understand that she'll need your help to ensure everything goes smoothly. The next morning, she broaches the subject, and, thankfully, doesn’t have to jump through many hoops to convince you. She loathes bending the truth about the gallery's closing hours, but she's pressed to secure the painting promptly.

Of course, you're there for her again. You even go as far as to offer her lunch, but she has to decline; she genuinely has an appointment with the dean. She reluctantly agrees to dinner, already having said yes to Vision to visit the Museum of Modern Art, where he's also set to give her the remaining 50% for the painting.

“We can have dinner,” Wanda proposes tentatively. “Maybe drive to the city for some steaks and a dive bar after?” It’s tiring to drive back and forth like Manhattan isn’t at least one and a half hours away without traffic, but she wants to spend time with you, and thank you for your effort.

“I'll pick you up at seven,” you say. “It's a date.”

She's excited, but deep down she's aware of the tight schedule. It would be nothing short of a miracle if Vision gets her back to Westview on time.

-

Wanda cancels dinner at the last minute. She's relieved that you're amenable and just texts to ask her what time she’ll be home.

-

When she gets her hands on the painting, it takes her a long time to think of a dedication message. Truthfully, writing heartfelt letters has never been her strong suit; she struggles to articulate her feelings. But as she contemplates her feelings for Vision, she draws a blank.  She considers simply thanking him for engaging her in conversations she hasn't had with anyone in so long, conveniently omitting their other indulgences. At the same time, she doesn’t want to leave a piece of herself behind, not even something as trivial as a personal dedication.

So she settles on a quote:

‘To Vision, the only secret people keep is immortality.’  - W

On a particular plane, it speaks to her. It's a phrase that mirrors the fundamental human longing for significance and a sense of purpose—something she has unknowingly let slip along the way.

-

Surprisingly, Vision appears content with the note. Wanda doesn't bother to inquire about his thoughts on it. He doesn't make a spectacle of his appreciation for the painting either, and it becomes apparent that he's indulging in a fantasy from some porno, where an older woman brings him something before he takes her to bed.

The sex is always intoxicating in its own messy way, now that she’s ready to admit she’s not after perfection whenever she comes to him. She doesn’t go to him because there’s something wrong with you. It might be because something is wrong with her, but there isn’t really any room to psychoanalyze her own mental state when she’s being taken from behind, facing a full length mirror. As pleasure builds, her eyes roll back, she briefly toys with the idea that she might be harboring deeper feelings for him. 

Then, out of the blue, a red flash catches her eye, but with two quick blinks, it vanishes.

“What’s that?” Wanda whispers, momentarily distracted before a moan escapes her lips.

“What?” he mutters distractedly, pulling her hair, when her head starts to droop. 

But before Wanda can form a coherent thought, he adjusts, lifting one of her legs and shifting his angle. With a few deliberate thrusts, she's spiraling into an overwhelming climax. And as pleasure washes over her, any lingering thoughts of deeper feelings for him evaporates along with the haze of lust.

Later, she would brush aside the memory of that brief red flash as she stealthily slipped into your shared home, careful not to disturb Sparky, who slept soundly. With a day off scheduled for tomorrow, she had completely lost track of time, fooling around a couple more times with a college kid.

-

“D-Did I hurt you?”

Right this second, Wanda feels like she'd welcome the ground opening up to take her or a random bullet finding its mark in her heart. Anything, if it would end her anguish. 

She watches your face crumple with guilt and hurt, and she can't believe she's caused you to feel this way when you’re just aching for her. 

Without missing a beat, Wanda draws you into an embrace, feeling your heart race against her chest. “No, you didn’t. I shouldn’t have made you feel that way,” she whispers. The mere thought of you second-guessing your intentions with her shatters her heart.

You lean into her completely, feeling like a child in her arms. “I’ve been missing you so much lately, and I thought... I thought we were on the same page.”

Wanda insists it's not your fault. None of this is your fault. She desires closeness with you, but she hadn't expected it to make her feel so uneasy beneath her skin, especially considering she had been touched by another less than 24 hours ago. She has to remind herself that you aren't aware. But she knows, and it plagues her mind, why you’d want to touch her.

Your reply, soaked in typical selflessness, is, “I know. I’m sorry.” 

Your apology, the earnestness in your tone is starting to make her feel dizzy. The fact that you feel this way, that she has led you to question your privilege—something she has always granted you—to touch her, is agonizing.

“Stop saying you're sorry,” Wanda snaps, her words sharper than she intends, fervently hoping that you understand her outburst isn't aimed at you. “You do everything right. It's me. I've missed you too, more than you can possibly imagine.”

When you softly say, “I love you,” it's filled with so much emotion that it brings tears to Wanda's eyes. It takes her too long to respond with an “I love you, too,” because there’s many more she wants to say. And she can’t say it without revealing the one thing that she fears will drive you away. 

She can only hope that you believe her because she means it more than anything.

-

Wanda can't pinpoint exactly when she developed the habit of locking the bathroom door. It likely started around the time Vision would text her, innocently asking about her lectures. Then, one day, she received a short video clip of him pleasuring himself and moaning her name. She promptly deleted the clip, but from that point on, she learned to check her messages at home only when she was about to step into the shower.

-

Natasha visits and something inside Wanda unfurls itself. She becomes hyper-aware of her activities with Vision, how she conducts them and where. Before relocating to New Jersey, you mentioned that Natasha had taken an open-ended break from her job, suggesting she might be ready to leave her old life behind. Still, she’s uneasy when she learns about it too late, and Natasha’s already outside, waiting to be let into the house.

You're still in your office attire, donning a pristine suit that would have captured her attention for the entire evening, if not for the fact that she's on the verge of breaking down at the mere thought of you discovering her affair with Vision.

“Why didn't you tell me she was coming?” she snaps, gesturing at the dinner table set for two and the disorderly state of their living room. Her eyes dart to a stack of her students' reaction papers lying exposed on the coffee table, and the unkempt pillows. To you, it might seem trivial, but to Wanda, every small detail could give away something she'd rather keep private.

“You could've at least warned me,” she continues, her tone reflecting more than just her concerns about dinner and the state of the living room, but you fail to catch it. You try to help, reaching out to straighten the living room, but she's too frazzled. Seeing the frustrated look on your face, she can't help but feel cornered. She hastily scatters the pillows about, her movement nothing short of hysterical. 

Sensing that things might take a worse turn than they should, you make the decision to be the one to step back.

“If it's too much trouble for you, we can just grab dinner elsewhere,” you suggest, struggling not to lose your own patience. 

She can't help but throw you a sharp look, feeling as though your words only made things worse. The mere idea of you and Natasha, alone, maybe sharing stories or opinions about her, feels threatening. But there’s nothing she can do but hope you will veer away from talking about her, that you won’t confide in Natasha how you haven’t had sex in months.

“Fine,” she snaps and quickly retreats up the stairs. “Send my regards to Natasha,” she throws over her shoulder, the guest bedroom door shutting loudly behind her.

She sighs heavily, pressing her back to the door, heart racing. From the window, she sees you walk back to the car, your frustration evident in every step. Natasha looks at you with that questioning glance Wanda knows all too well. She watches as you speak before handing Natasha the car keys.

She gazes up at the ceiling, determined to hold back the tears that are on the verge of spilling. She doesn't want to push you away, but her fear of Natasha, and what might be revealed, leaves her feeling trapped.

-

Out of frustration, she calls Vision, and they meet in his car, about two blocks from their house.

In the cramped confines of the backseat, Vision is quick to slide into her, the condom barely in place before he's thrusting with a fervor.

She peaks once, but not from him being inside her. She's too tense, too tightly wound for that. So Vision, realizing this, drops to his knees to truly bring her over the edge.

-

Later, Wanda lies on her side, every muscle tense, acutely aware of the presence beside her, all the while pretending to be deep in sleep.

“She used to crash at our place almost every week,” you murmur into the stillness.

A hint of irritation passes through Wanda, though she can't really tell why. “What?” she asks, her voice low and weary.

“Natasha,” you specify. “I didn't think to mention it because it was just our norm. She'd drop by unannounced all the time.”

You want to have a conversation about it, to work through this issue. She knows how you’ve been trying to give her space, thinking she hasn’t adjusted yet to life in Westview. You’re always thinking about her. Always putting her needs first above yours.

And Wanda can see how it’s worn you down, how you're starting to doubt your own logical reasoning, and how you're piecing together facts to present your case, hoping for her to be more receptive and listen. She despises the fact that she's putting you through all of this, merely because she's determined to prevent her different worlds from colliding.

She can sense you searching her face, looking for answers, trying to understand the wall she’s erected between you too. It’s so tall now, casting a shadow over both of you. 

“Wands?”

“Baby?” you try again. It seems like it's all you ever do these days. “Please?” 

Wanda resists the urge to turn toward you and pull you into her arms. She knows that if she does, the tears will flow uncontrollably, and she understands that you won't let her keep her troubles to herself. She composes herself, letting out a shuddering sigh.

“We're fine, Y/N. Let's just go to sleep.”

You give into her wishes, because you will always give her what she wants.  She extends her hand, delicately interlocking your fingers with hers. It's the smallest gesture she can manage. She pretends not to hear you, feel you shake, as you cry on your own.

-

She'd planned to watch the movie alone, in the middle of the day. So, when Vision discreetly takes the seat next to her, Wanda stiffens. A few others are scattered in the front rows of the dark theater, chatting softly as they munch on popcorn.

Without turning to face him, she whispers accusingly, “Are you stalking me?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd catch a movie. Pure coincidence.”

“You hate cinemas,” she counters.

He chuckles softly. “Maybe I'm learning to appreciate them.”

​​She’s about to retort when she feels a gentle touch on her hip. Wanda's muscles tense under his soft fingers as they start tracing the curve of her waist, moving slowly downwards, caressing her thigh. Her breath hitches, and she turns sharply to face him.

“What are you doing?”

Vision just smirks, leaning back in his seat. “Thought you might want to spice up the afternoon.”

Wanda rolls her eyes. “I'm not in the mood, Vision. Hands off.”

His laugh is a bit too loud, drawing “shhhs” and glares from the front row. Seeing him unmoved by the stares, Wanda huffs and stands up, making it clear she's moving seats. As she shimmies past him, Vision's hand snakes out, gripping her wrist. “Stay,” he murmurs, eyes serious. “I promise to behave.”

She hesitates, looking at him skeptically. Finally, with a sigh, she slides back into her seat. For the most part, Vision keeps his promise. They sit in silence, engrossed in the movie, but Wanda can't help but notice Vision's restlessness. Twice, he excuses himself, claiming he needs the restroom. She can't help but wonder what he's really up to, but she refrains from asking. Whatever it is, she's not sure she wants to know.

Later, when they step out of the theater, they're greeted by the aftermath of a rainstorm. Puddles dot the pavement, making it tricky for Wanda in her heels. Vision holds out his hand, and she takes it, especially when she almost trips trying to leap over a particularly large puddle. 

For some reason, she suddenly feels like she's being watched. From the corner of her eye, she spots the black SUV, parked in the same spot as when she arrived at the cinema. But before she can give it more thought, Vision pulls her towards a bookstore, quickly diverting her attention. She brushes off the odd sensation, attributing it to anxiety since the theater she picked is quite far from town.

-

Wanda stares, open mouthed and shocked, as Vision shows her his final project for her course.

It's a charcoal drawing on canvas featuring a nude woman, with only her mouth visible, reclining on a bench. Wanda doesn't need a second glance to realize that the woman in the painting is her. From the curve of her jaw to the birthmark on her left hip and down to the fold of her knees, the resemblance is remarkable. 

There's no way she can allow him to submit this.

His audacity to draw her in such an intimate manner without her consent leaves her momentarily speechless. She briefly wonders what other liberties he’s taken without her permission.

“What the hell is this?” Wanda questions in barely contained rage.

Vision smirks, arrogance dripping from every word. “It's you, obviously. Pretty accurate, don't you think?”

She clenches her fists, anger rising. “You had absolutely no right. This is beyond inappropriate. What were you thinking?”

Leaning against the table, he shrugs nonchalantly. “I was thinking about how hot you were and I wanted to immortalize it.”

She frowns, crossing her arms defensively. “This was private, between us. How could you think it's okay to make it public?”

“I thought you liked when I took control,” he says, stepping closer, his voice dripping with insinuation.

Wanda feels like throwing up. “This isn't a game,” she snaps. “You can't just use our personal moments as fodder for your projects!”

“You never seemed to mind before.”

Wanda replies sharply, “There's a difference between us being together in private and you broadcasting it to the world.”

He squares his shoulders, firming up his stance. “Maybe I wanted them to see.”

“To see what exactly?” Wanda yells, but the fear in her voice is unmistakable. 

“How good we are together,” he says. “Maybe I’m tired of hiding, Wanda. Ever thought of that?”

Wanda's mind races, a thousand thoughts crashing into one another. She's always been able to control the narrative, always had the situation in her grip. But now, Vision's defiance, his blatant challenge, terrifies her. The realization that Vision could, and possibly would, spill their secret terrifies her more than she thought possible. For the first time, she's faced with the real possibility of losing everything she holds dear. Of losing you.

“So, what's it going to be, Professor?” Vision challenges, towering over her in a display of intimidation. “Should I submit this, or maybe...” his voice drops to a whisper, “show it to your wife?”

She grits her teeth, trying to gain some semblance of control. “Destroy it. Now.”

Vision grins, leaning in closer until their faces are inches apart. “Make me.”

“Vis—”

Vision's lips crush down on hers in a fierce, demanding kiss. His hand clamps around the back of her neck, holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. It’s fervent, consuming, and fueled by a hunger she hasn't felt from him before. Her brain screams at her to resist, to push him away, to regain control of this spiraling situation. She shoves at his chest, her nails digging in, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he deepens the kiss, his tongue demanding entry, which she denies him.

In her mounting frustration, she raises her hand and slaps him hard across the face. Vision barely flinches, his gaze never leaving hers. His determination only fans the flames of her anger further, but beneath it all simmers an irrefutable want. Without a word, Vision's hands descend to her waist, deftly unbuttoning and pushing down her pants and off her legs. She makes quick work of his belt, discarding them recklessly to the side.

As he inches closer, his breath hot on her ear, Vision murmurs, “Say it, Wanda… say 'I want you to fuck me’.”

She can feel the solid length of him pressing against her, and despite her anger, the way he slowly gyrates his hips makes her weak. She draws a shaky breath, the words stuck in her throat. It’s wrong, and he shouldn’t have this much power on her. 

He moves in, his lips trailing down her neck, as his hands find their way around her waist, pulling her in even closer. “Say it,” he murmurs again.

“I want you to... fuck me,” she finally breathes out, her voice breaking into a whiny plea that she would never have believed she could utter, especially under these circumstances. 

His response is immediate. Before she can fully register what's happening, he has her lifted, her back pressed against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist. With a sharp thrust, he's inside her, filling her completely. While Vision usually found his release before she did, this time was different. She notices he's holding back, which confuses her. Why would he? Especially now. Wanda, lost in the sensation of him inside her, is curious but also a little apprehensive. 

She soon realizes why. His fingers find her clit, rubbing it in a rough, almost painful manner that sends shockwaves of pleasure through her. “Come on,” he urges, almost impatiently, his voice strained.

She feels herself spiraling, the coil inside her tightening. His cock angles and adjusts, targeting her sweet spot, making her clench around him. The slickness between them grows, and his fingers work in tandem with his thrusts, pressing, rubbing, coaxing her closer and closer.

“I'm gonna... I'm coming,” she warns, feeling the walls of her pussy fluttering.

And then she feels it—the unmistakable warmth, the pulsing. Her eyes widen in realization as Vision buries himself deeper, releasing inside her. 

“No!” Wanda screams silently, the sounds failing to escape her throat as the knowledge that he's come unprotected pushes her further into her own climax. Her instinct is to flee, to pull away from him, but Vision's grip is ironclad. He feels her panic and responds with more pressure on her clit, manipulating the nub with determined fingers. Each stroke sends her further into ecstasy, locking her in place as his other arm wraps around her waist, preventing any escape.

“Stay,” he murmurs into her ear, his voice filled with a possessiveness that she's never heard before. As he continues to spurt inside her, their hips still weakly grinding against one another, the reality of the situation dawns on her. He didn't use protection. He could—he could get her—

Terror claws at Wanda's insides. Was this all premeditated? Had he planned to trap her like this? She struggles to pull away, but Vision holds her even tighter, keeping her pressed against him as the last of his release fills her. He languidly rests his forehead against Wanda's shoulder, taking a moment to revel in the afterglow. When he finally dares to look at her, he expects to see anger or fury or maybe even forgiveness. Instead, he's met with wide, bloodshot eyes swimming with tears that violently spill over, tracing the contours of her cheeks.

His smugness dissipates and his brow furrows in confusion. “Wanda?”

She chokes on her tears, desperately trying to speak. “Did you—did you do this on purpose?” Using every ounce of strength she can summon, she pushes him away, stumbling slightly as her legs threaten to give out. Hastily, she starts grabbing her clothes.

Vision, looking lost for once, reaches out, but she recoils away from his touch.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

“Wanda, please. Let's talk about this.”

As Wanda attempts to regain her balance, she can feel the telltale wetness slide down her inner thighs. The physical evidence of their tryst, the proof of Vision's seed making its way out of her, sends a sharp pang of revulsion through her. Her hand moves instinctively, trying to wipe away the residue, a feeble attempt to erase the aftermath—or perhaps the entirety of their history. Her vision blurs as tears continue to stream down her face, her breathing jagged. Vision, looking both remorseful and lost, reaches out in an attempt to console her, but she flinches at the barest contact of his fingertips.

“Please, at least let me drive you to—”

“To where?” she spits out, her voice mocking. “Home? To my...? I can't—not now.”

Vision's eyes widen, and suddenly he looks much younger.

“Wanda,” he starts, voice shaky and eyes beginning to tear up, “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... I didn't think… I-It’ll never happen again.”

But the pitiable sight of him, looking scared and unsure, only adds fuel to the fire. “You think a simple 'sorry' is enough?”

The door is her escape, and she's quick to reach it. As she’s about to leave, he whimpers, almost begging, “Please don't go. I... I'm sorry.”

But she's done. With one final, withering glance, she exits, leaving the door to swing shut behind her. 

-

While Wanda waits for her period to come, she can't focus on anything else. She feels disoriented during the day, and it keeps her awake at night. 

In her world, everything's spiraling into a fragmented mess, like a vintage vinyl record that's been smashed to bits. 

She tosses out reading assignments like candy at a twisted parade, tells the kids to scribble down essays. For them, it's almost like a holiday. For Wanda, it's a desperate lifeline. By the window, she stands. Watching. Waiting. But not really seeing anything. Vision's eyes, burning into her, but she never meets his gaze. She hasn't been responding to his texts or calls, discarding them immediately without even opening them. The classroom exit strategy is always the same: blend in with the herd, avoid the predator. She doesn't give him even the slightest opportunity to get her alone.

Home should be her fortress. Instead, it's like quicksand. Sparky, always eager for her attention, brings toys to her feet, his tail wagging in hopeful anticipation. But her patience is thin, and she finds herself shooing him outside, much to the dog's confusion. She's been bringing home takeout repeatedly, and the repetition isn't lost on you. While you never openly complain, she notices when you start to take the reins, cooking dinner, a quiet acknowledgment of her current state.

She waits and waits—a ghost haunting a lover, a home, a school, a town, waiting for salvation.

-

She’s more than a week late for her period when she (terrifyingly) decides to buy a pregnancy test kit. Wanda clutches her coat tighter around herself, hesitating for a moment before pushing the door open. Inside, she avoids making eye contact, moving purposefully towards the aisle she's dreading. As her fingers wrap around a pregnancy test kit, her heart hammers in her chest. With the box safely tucked inside her bag, she hurries back home, sneaking glances over her shoulder, feeling as though the world knows her secret.

When she arrives home, she pretends as if she had simply stopped by the grocery store. She musters a smile as she begins to prepare dinner, maintaining a light and cheerful conversation with you. You savor her food as if it were your last meal, showering her with compliments like a discerning food critic, which brings a slight chuckle from Wanda. You peck her lips when you’re finished, thanking her for it. For a while, it seems like everything is back to normal, and that nothing will shatter the illusion that she’s still living her happily-ever-after with you.

She waits, counting the minutes, ensuring you're deep in sleep before she tiptoes into the bathroom. She reads the instructions multiple times, her eyes scanning over each word as if hoping they'd change. It's as though she hasn’t been through this ritual numerous times before, back when her deepest desire was to bear your child. The irony isn't lost on her: in just a few months, she's transitioned from yearning for a baby to fervently hoping she isn't pregnant.

Finally gathering enough courage, she rips the packaging. Just get it over with, Wanda muses. The minutes that follow feel like hours. The silence is suffocating, the potential consequences bearing down on her. She jumps at the slightest noise, every creak of the floorboards or rustle of sheets convincing her that you've woken up.

The alarm on her phone finally goes off, signaling that it's time. With bated breath, she looks down at the test, her world teetering on the brink of change.

-

She’s hidden the pregnancy test deep in the trash bin, concealed under tissues and other refuse. It’s the middle of the night, and she ensured it is further out of sight by taking the trash outside.

As the initial relief floods through her, it is swiftly replaced by a profound sense of shame. She sits curled up on the couch, hugging her knees, desperately wishing to escape from herself and her crimes. She realizes, with a piercing clarity, that she can't compartmentalize or keep secrets when it comes to you, because you're not just a part of her life—you are her life. The mere thought of you finding out fills her with a terror so profound, she's left gasping for breath. She'd rather face any consequence, even death, than watch the love fade from your eyes, replaced by hurt, anger, and betrayal.

She loves you, but Wanda doesn’t—she doesn’t know what to do, how to move forward. 

But in the midst of her life falling apart, an unexpected sentiment finds its way to the forefront: hope. 

A fragile, quivering kind of hope. Wanda's lips twitch, trembling as they pull into a weak smile. Maybe the universe is giving her a second chance. Maybe her not being pregnant is a sign, a way out. It's as if fate is holding out a lifeline, imploring her to take it and mend the fractures in her life. With renewed determination, she silently promises herself that she'll devote every bit of her being to you. She knows she can't change the past, but she believes, fervently, in the possibility of a future where she remains true, where she will never stray again.

Still, the weight of her deeds anchors her to the couch, each sob a violent reminder that she's the villain in her own story. And that’s how you find her, in the dark living room, crying and blaming a nonexistent movie for being in such a mess.

“Wanda?”

She looks up and every cell in her body threatens to crumble. “Hey, baby,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing away the tears.

“Have you been crying?”

“Just a movie,” she lies still, “You know how emotional they make me.”

You smile, your eyes full of that nurturing love. “My big crybaby.” Wanda can't believe a pregnancy scare was what it took to finally wake her up.

Looking into your eyes, a surge of need overtakes her. She longs to claim you, to solidify her stake, and leave no doubt in your mind about where her heart truly lies. She wants to show you just how much she loves you, to make up for all the times she has strayed. 

She doesn't hesitate. Before she fully processes her actions, she's on top of you, her weight pinning you down, her eyes blazing with an intensity that threatens to consume. “Take off your shorts,” her voice trembles. Your obedient response sends a thrill through her, but she's barely registered the progress you've made before she's swiping a teasing finger, tasting the essence that's uniquely yours. She watches, entranced, as a shiver runs through you, your voice shaky with desire. 

“Patience, baby.” 

She barely shakes her head, lips parted. “Don't have any.”

And then she's tasting you, each slow, deliberate stroke of her tongue designed to drive both of you mad. Your body responds fervently, and she can sense your need building, mirroring her own desperate longing. “Please, Wanda, more…” Your whisper is a plea she can't resist. Her lips part to take in more of you, savoring the intoxicating flavor that she had missed so much. 

“I've missed you so much, Y/N,” she says, deliriously lost in your pleasure. “I've missed making you feel good. Missed feeling this way with you…” She doesn't quite realize the hints she's dropping, but she doesn't care. This moment is real, and she wants it to be as honest as it can be.

Lifting your legs, Wanda applies gentle pressure, pushing them back until they're almost touching the couch cushions on either side of your head. The sight of you, so openly displayed for Wanda, sends a rush of heat and desire through her core. She can feel the power she has, not just from the position but from the trust placed in her to have you in such a vulnerable state. It feels so good, being this close to you. How could she have ever desired anything else when she had this all along?

Wanda pauses for a moment, mouth watering, her eyes hungrily tracing the sight before her. She senses a slight shift, seeing your eyes flit away, perhaps overwhelmed. But Wanda can't allow that retreat. Gently cradling your face, she guides those eyes she loves back, sealing their return home to her with a tender, grounding kiss.

“I love you,” she breathes against your lips.

You smile up at her. “I love you. More than you could ever know.”

Wanda shuts her eyes, letting your reassurance wash over her. Nothing lasts forever, but perhaps this could be an exception.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x vision #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #my writing #category: angst #iss #my fic #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n

[forzaferraris]

UH OH ! — cl16. [ series masterlist . part ii . ]

CHAPTER ONE / gorgeous.

❛ you should take it as a compliment, that i got drunk and made fun of the way you talked. ❜

summary : usually, birthday parties are supposed to be a close friend's and family celebration, so why on earth are you being dragged along as your friend's plus one?

warnings : implied references to cheating. food mentions. vomiting mentions but not explicitly written. sexual themes, inuendos. a purposeful choice to refuse to write without capital letters. too many taylor swift references. google translated french. no use of y/n but reader is referred to as soleil by charles and that transfers on through all the fic. charles leclerc's toxic relationship. alcohol consumption, drink responsibly. suddenly charles leclerc is actually decent at flirting. inaccurate storyline of pierre's birthday. 2023's silly season just got sillier. live laugh love kika gomes. word count : 1.7k

yourusername just posted to her story . . .

[ caption one: hot girls always do skincare 🧖🏻‍♀️ / caption two: i fear i girlbossed to close to the sun, how did i end up here ⁉️🤨 ]

THE STREETS OF PARIS , were lively enough that you could blend in seamlessly, everyone else dressed essentially to the nines in their finest attire, walking in and out of all the restaurants in the vicinity. you want to cower, wrap the shall around yourself tighter and hide away; you'd never felt more insecure and out of place in the entire month you'd been vacationing in france, until this very moment.

everyone around you exudes the amount of confidence that comes naturally to them that you wished you had, even if you felt genuinely good in the outfit Kika had practically forced you in when you'd briefly mentioned having nothing to wear to the event she'd asked you to tag along to. a part of you wants to remind yourself that you knew better than to expect things to play out differently, it wants to ridicule you for going back on your usual stance of always expecting disappointment to no longer feel disappointed.

you wave off a taxi that pulls beside you, you're already at your destination, and a fleeting wave of nausea makes you want to clench your gut, and hurl what little you'd eaten earlier throughout the day into the hedges beside you; you don't, thankfully. instead, you resort to the safety of your phone, back-and-forth bickering between your best friend and Kika to work up your nerves to get yourself inside the building.

you feel wobbly on your feet, something you will also plan to blame on Kika when you find the courage to get yourself to walk in through the door of the Laperouse, a considerably more elegant spot to eat at than you would have picked, you only dread the fear of looking over the menu and bearing witness to the prices of the food.

the ding of the bell above the door pulls your head out of your phone when you're met with the silhouette of quite possibly the most attractive man you'd ever had blessed your gaze — excluding that one time you'd run into lorenzo zurzolo on a girls trip to madrid and fumbled the whole ordeal so embarrassingly you had to block him on instagram to keep from ever seeing him.

his actions are almost more exaggerated in frustration than you'd plainly described to your friend, his hand is constantly dragging down his face when he pulls the phone away from his ear, promptly allowing you to hear the snippets of french being, basically, screamed through the phone at him. yikes. the phone call seems to drag on and the amount of time you've been staring at this man can be somewhat considered borderline stalking if he wasn't uninterested in the world outside the french screaming match on the phone.

deciding you'd done enough oogling to satiate for the brieft maladaptive day-dreaming you'll experience during mundane errands. with the very little courage you had, you wipe your hands on your dress, pitifully, and tuck your phone into the clutch before making your way inside. you're blissfully unaware of the way the man had turned towards the noise the heels of your shoes had made against the pavement, his attitude doing a complete 180 had him disregarding the remainder of the phone call before finally giving up, a defeated sigh follows the silence of the call being ended.

'i told you so. . .' your brain supplies when you feel even more out of place being inside said restaurant than how you were simply just standing outside of it, you felt both over and under-dressed watching the mass of patrons standing at the front bar along with the glimpses you could get inside the dining room from where you wait at the hostess stand.

"can i help you?" the hostess asks, words sleek with her french accent as she flicks her gaze up towards you before down at the booking book in front of her. you fiddle with your fingers, white-knuckling the black clutch, suddenly unable to find your own words. the woman rolls her eyes, and taps her perfectly manicured finger against the book and you visibly shake.

"elle est avec moi et la réservation Gasly" a voice speaks, standing behind you, close enough to be flush against you, but remaining a finger length away from you, refusing to lift your head, you don't dare look at who's just saved yourself from any more bouts of unwavering embarrassment for the night.

"profite de ta soirée" the hostess grins, it doesn't shine in her eyes and it's clearly a put-on customer service smile, forced to maintain a friendly atmosphere within the restaurant, you're allowing yourself to be lead through towards the private dining room, stepping away from the man, you mumble a simple thank you in your own butchered french pronunciation as you spot kika and find yourself attached to her hip for a majority of the night.

f1wagsgossip just posted to their story . . .

[ caption one: @yourusername spotted arriving at pierre's birthday party / caption two: @yourusername wearing the monot black maxi cutout ]

now, see if you weren't the type of person to be so easily persuaded into joining in on the drink festivities, you wouldn't have ended up with kika as one of your closest friends. you were never one to turn down alcohol, especially open bar alcohol; which is perhaps why you'd found yourself in a state of being a social butterfly, you'd floated around the room, meals long since eaten and cleared by the wait staff left people standing around and conversing.

mixtures of english, french and portuguese filling the room, bits and pieces of conversations you were picking up, but with your minimal understanding of french you found yourself avoiding anything beyond "hi how are you?" and introducing yourself, aside from that you smile and nodded before politely excusing yourself to float around once more.

"are you purposely ignoring me?" there it is, the sound that would haunt your best dreams and your worst nightmares; the shiver that runs up your spine makes you inadvertently cringe at yourself, how were you this reactive to a voice, you're going to blame the entire thing on the amount of sparkling moscato you'd been drinking by the glass.

"hm? no, no i'm not ignoring you?" you mock his accent, turning around to finally make eye contact with him, lips pursed into a line to keep yourself from giggling, the bubbles in your stomach is either your own nerves, the bubbly alcoholic beverage you'd consumed or a mixture of both — either way you feel content enough to be less than self-aware of the situation.

you can almost see the way he visibly lights up at the interaction, the way can't hold himself back from laughing at your attempt to mock his accent, the way his eyes crinkle and the laughter that follows the expression leaves you virtually speechless, you'd never been in a situation where someone, especially not a man. had ever laughed at you in a way that didn't feel the least bit mocking towards you; his laughter subsides and you feel yourself mourning the noise, head tilting to the side before he's taking a sip from his own glass.

"how do you know pierre?"

"through kika, she's the sole reason i'm here" you explain, gesturing with your hands as you talk, the conversation carries on throughout most of the night, new drinks replacing old ones all whilst the distance between the two of you closing inch by inch and shamelessly, perhaps even a little selfishly you allow it.

you allow more than just close proximity, you allow his knee to knock against your own, the hand to graze your waist as his arm moves around you to put his empty drink on the bar. you allow yourself to meet his gaze, hold it and find yourself lower and lower your own inhibitions. the good, the bad and the ugly of a man who hasn't asked for your name and whose name you hadn't bothered to ask for either.

perhaps, it's the events of the night that led you to here, in this heat of the moment pursuit of pure guiltless drunk happiness, lips against the nap of your neck in the back of a taxi, a hand dragging dangerously up your thigh, closer and closer to a spot you hadn't known longed to be touched until now. you're mutual shouts of laughter are shared through the streets of paris, leading into the hotel room you'd been staying in for the week, you're set to check out the next morning, but realistically, what's one night of parisian fun to end your trip with a bang, literally.

"soleil, fuck, the things you are doing to me right now" his voice comes out like a growl against your ear, his teeth dragging along your ear lobe and further down your neck, never biting, just allowing the feeling to pull the breathless noises out of you. your hand finds its way to nestle into his hair, grip tight and pull him away, the way he looks at you, a gaze you're all far too familiar with, lust.

god, had you wished you knew life wouldn't feel so horribly if you'd felt like this the entire time, the way the man finds himself home between your thighs, even as they clench around his head as soon as his tongue flicks against your abused and overly sensitive clit, fingers working their way in and out of your as you're pushed to complete your third orgasm — your hands griping the pillow behind your head, back arching as you moan out breathlessly, the needy coil in your stomach untangling once more as he pulls the orgasm out of you; your left breathless and shaking as your ride out the orgasm on his fingers.

his face is glistening with your juices; god if you were brave enough to take a picture you would have, he looked effortlessly pretty as he wiped his face with the back of his hand and finally pulled his fingers out of you to lick them clean.

you were royally screwed. even after you woke up in the morning, he was still asleep, but check-out was soon and there really wasn't any need to actively remain in the hotel room bed any longer, even if the man sleeping beside you was dreamy, even asleep, you knew alcohol-influenced one night stands were less than impressive to boast about the next morning. so you do the easiest thing to bypass awkward morning conversations, you leave a note with your number and leave.

yourusername just posted . . .

liked by francisca.cgomes, yourbestfriend and 489 others yourusername are you happy to have been in paris? oui! tagged francisca.cgomes

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user girl, what is that on your neck in the second pic?? ⤿ yourusername the question is are you a narc?

francisca.cgomes paris couldn't handle us for longer than a week ⤿yourusername where too next gf x

yourbestfriend i miss you come home ! ⤿yourusername i think i might find a new home ⤿yourbestfriend you're really gonna abandon our kids like that?

user since when have her an kika been friends? ⤿user since like forever, they grew up together

yoursisteruser look at you being a slut pookie, we love to see it ⤿yourusername get out of my comments blocked and reported ⤿yoursisteruser can you answer my facetime now, you got a lot of catching up to do, this is new name lore !!!

authors note : hi oh my god, so i'm absolutely nervous to actually have this be posted, it's not been beta read so i apologise in advance trying to edit this myself was the longest task i've come to find myself tethered to. i really like the plot of this story, the smut a lil dry because my smut writing is dry, we gotta work ourselves up to that, later chapters pookies, later chapters. i would have added more to the story, i'm like super inspired by this, but alas the 30 image limit said, no. so we gotta listen !

add yourself to the taglist here !

taglist : @iluminaya @greenbaby12 @therealcap @marshmummy

#𐙚 paige’s works #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #f1 xreader #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one imagines #f1 imagines #opla sanji x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #𐙚 uhoh fic

[norrisleclercf1]

Just Come Home To Us

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader x Lando Norris

Rating: R

Words: 3.8K

Warnings: Angst, some fluff, Smut, oral (both receiving), p in v, wrap it before you tap it, I'm sure there is some other, also this smut not the best written but hey I finished it

Our Boy Series Masterlist/ Previous: Memories of Old and New / Next: They're My Future, You're The Past

Synopsis: Things are never easy, even when you want to come home.

A/n: One more chapter before the end of Our Boy Main Story!

4 months have passed since that morning after the Monaco Grand Prix. 4 months since your husband kicked you out of the house and their lives. Painful nights alone, filled with tears and nightmares, the only comfort has been talking to Elijah and Cecile every day. Elijah was the ever-good son, telling you Charles and Lando were far from okay. 

His Papa was back in therapy and felt he wasn't ready to see you, not because of the fight, but because he wanted to better himself first. You kept your mouth shut, refusing to let anger cloud your son's judgment of his Papa. Lando, Cecile told you that he was holding everyone together, but she worried no one was there for him. 

It made your heart clench. Lando was the younger of you 3 and always in the middle whenever you and Charles argued. Closing your eyes, you suck in the bone-chilling air of Finnish winter. "Eh, don't fall asleep on me!" With an ache in your neck, you see your father on his snowmobile, grinning. The same grin he'd give Uncle David or Michael before a race. 

"I'm not old man, just enjoying the fresh air." Words are falling off, and the blanket of white surrounding you has your eyes burning. "Just call," Mika whispers, knowing what you're thinking. He could always see those thoughts whirling in your head. An open book is what he liked to call you. "No," Your father mumbles something about how stubborn you are, kicking off the engine and leaving you as he goes through the private course again. 

Why should you have to call? Charles was the one who wouldn't let you explain, even listen to you. He did what he always did: reacted first. A defense mechanism you have experienced one too many times. And this was the last time you'd be subjected to it. Charles has ripped your family apart more than once; this may be the time he succeeded. 

Kicking your own engine, you follow your father to the top of the point, seeing him staring out. "He should be the one to call!" You yell, the wind whipping around you. It was a lashing you have missed, the cold turning your blood to ice and making your lungs expand to suck in the crisp air. "Why?" You hated when Mika did this. He wouldn't take your side. He said that while he loved you, that doesn't mean he'll always defend you. Sometimes, the child must fight their own battle to determine if the war is worth it. 

"Why?" You trudge through the snow, stopping next to your father. Memories of being a little girl, learning harsh lessons, and the screaming matches of forming your own path. "Because he kicked me out and told me to leave. And I did. He ripped this family apart, not me." Mika turns, and you shrink back. Even after the words left, you felt their poison seep in. "The truth is a paper cut, but the lies are the bullet wounds. You did not help your cause when you continued to lie to those men. Good men who have given you a wonderful family and two gorgeous children." Mika sighs, fixing his glasses. 

"You think I don't know this? What do you want me to say? That I lost sleep, sometimes sick to my own stomach, when I watched Elijah grow up? Or when Charles would whisper how much he loved Elijah and me? Because I did. I've hated myself for 16 years; for 16 years, I have lied to the greatest loves of my life. I thought Nico was my air, but he was sea. Swallowing me whole and drowning me. But Charles," You break off, swallowing your tears. "And Lando, they gave me air; for once, I remembered what breathing was like. FUCK!" You scream out into the mountain air. 

"When your mother died, I felt my world slip out from under me. When you started to act out, a part of me felt like I failed. You started to date Nico, and for once, I thought you were okay. Instead, you were slowly dying inside. If your mother was here, she'd kick my ass and then yours." You laugh, wiping your tears, the cold making them burn like acid. "I failed my babies," Mika shakes his head, facing you. 

"You didn't. You never failed those children, just yourself. And that's okay. Because no matter how old you get, you're still a child. My child and we Häkkinens don't make things easy. Just ask your Uncle David." You laugh, remembering how Uncle David would tell you stories about your father. "I miss them. I feel like I'm missing pieces of myself." You whisper. 

"I should hate Charles for the pain he caused me, but then I remember all the pain he's been through. We're both hurt, Daddy, so I fear we might harm Lando sometimes." Mika chuckles, still picturing you 3 as the 20-something-year-olds back in the 2020s. "He's stronger than you think, trust me." Nodding, the two of you drive back down to your cabin. Slowing, you see a blacked-out SUV. "Who is that?" Mika shrugs as he stalks to his own car. "Don't know! See you tomorrow for dinner!" Scrunching your eyebrows together, you open the front door, heat greeting you. 

"Hello?" Slowly entering your cabin, you stop seeing the familiar old, worn-out McLaren jacket. "Lando?" You call, boots pounding as you round the corner and stop seeing the mop of curls with little bits of grey now in them. He turns and stops, and both of you stare at one another. "Hey, gorgeous." Hearing that accent, those green-blue eyes stare at you, and everything comes crashing down. "Oh, god. I'm so sorry." You sob, crumbling to the floor. 

Whatever he was doing is forgotten as he rushes to you, falling to the floor with you as his arms circle around you. "Don't apologize, please don't." He whimpers, his beard tickling you, and you cry harder, hating how much you've missed that ridiculous beard. "You're here, you're here." You repeat and pull back, exchanging messy kisses and words. "Of course I am. It's been a horrible four months. We would've come sooner, but work and," You shut him up by kissing him deeply. 

Lando groans, hands digging into your snow jacket as he relaxes. Pulling apart, you take note of his words. "What do you mean, we?" "He means us." You give yourself whiplash with how fast you look up. Charles stands there, face taunt and glasses hanging onto the end of his nose. You and Lando always say Charles has aged with grace, but right now, he looks like his 26-year-old self again. And it still has your heart skip a beat. Standing, you two stare at one another as Lando looks between you. 

Without a second thought, you rush Charles, and with waiting arms, he accepts you into them. "I've missed you," Whisper of words pass between you two, but he swallows them with his mouth. "Don't talk," He groans, ripping your layers off as Lando whimpers, watching you two. "Come here, baby boy." Lando blushes and grumbles about how he isn't a baby anymore. "You're still our baby," Charles's fingers tug Lando's curls, which has him staggering into you two. 

"Where's the room?" Lando asks as Charles bites and sucks marks into his neck. "Down the hall to the left," You moan as Charles moves to your neck and leads you with a tangle of limbs to the bedroom. Shoving the door open, you three stagger in as they make work of your clothes. Charles stops, lifts you up by your legs, and drops you flat on your back. "Charlie," Lando whines as he lays Lando beside you. 

Your husband leans back, taking in the wreck messes that are you and Lando. "I haven't even fucked either of you, and you're both so wrecked for me." Lando rolls his eyes, and you do, too, with Charles smiling. "That was stupid, Charlie. We're not young anymore." Lando teases and leans up, pulling him down by his necklace. Their kiss is soft, filled with love and emotion, and you swear you feel that hurt grow again. 

Lando pulls away, gently pulling Charles's bottom lip. Leaning up, Lando whispers something to Charles, who has his eyes cut to you and grow dark. "You're right, baby." Charles presses a kiss to Lando's cheek and moves to you. His fingers brush your jaw and then cup it, pulling you up. "Still as breathtaking as the day I met you in the street." He places a soft kiss on your neck. 

"A wonderful mother," Another kiss, and with each praise, he places a kiss before he kisses your lips. "I've missed you more than air," Raising your arms, he helps you out of your shirt, and Lando removes your pants. "Don't leave me again, please." Charles doesn't let you answer as he swallows your words, straddling you on the bed. 

"Easy, Charles. You both need air." Lando reminds me of which has you breaking apart, chests raising and falling. He leans in, pecking you both on the lips. "I love you both so much," Lando whispers and pushes you down, smiling at you both. "Take off your clothes," Charles groans, hating that Lando is still fully clothed. "Who's needy for me now." Laughing, you help Lando out of his clothes. 

"Still a pretty cock, for an old man." Charles's fingers wrap around him, which makes Lando shiver. "Speak for yourself; you're older than me." Charles chuckles, gently jerking Lando off. But Lando doesn't ignore you as he leans down, kisses, licking, and biting his way down, but he stops looking up at you. "I love you," He mouths before closing his eyes as his lips have you gasping. 

"Oh, fuck." Arching your hips up, Lando's large hand pushes you back down and makes eye contact. "Does she still taste like heaven?" Charles rumbles, pulling his hand away from Lando, who whines at losing Charles's touch. Lando moans when your fingers tug at his curls each time he curls his tongue. "Mh, Lan-" You moan louder when Charles bites one of your nipples and ruts up into Lando's mouth. 

Lando pulls away, and you whimper as you are close, but he shakes his head. "Charles, come here. I think you owe our girl a perfect apology." Charles pulls off with a pop and smiles. "I think you're right." Charles moves and stands off the bed, and Lando bites his lip. "Kinda jealous," Charles laughs and pulls Lando into a searing kiss. "Don't worry, you're next." Your toes curl when you feel Charles nudge you as he gets comfortable between your legs. 

"Are you okay?" You stop and think this over. It probably wasn't wise to have sex before talking things through, but damn, you've missed them too much. "Yes, fuck yes, just," Charles moves and slides into you slowly, which has you whimpering. "Easy, you're okay," Charles whispers, dropping over you. His arms cage your head, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "See, old." Charles whips a hand out and twists Lando's nipple, which has him squeak. 

"Jesus, just fuck me, Charles." The two look at you and stop laughing. "Watch your tone." Charles pulls back and slams back into you, which pulls out a whimpering moan. "Lando, you can fuck my mouth." Lando whimpers, hearing that, and the boys move. Charles pulls you close, and he moves in slow thrusts, and Lando gets comfortable for you both. 

"I have missed this mouth. Charlie is good. But you're better." Lando whispers, peppering kisses all over your face. "Missed you too," Opening your mouth, Lando lets you swallow him as he whimpers, screwing his eyes shut. You don't know where your mind went, but every lousy thought has gone away with the two of them here. You've missed them both so much that having them close to you has made you fuzzy. 

"Fuck, baby." Charles groans and drops down, covering your body with his as Lando's hips and Charles's move faster. Lando whimpers pulls away, and wraps his hand around. Charles bats his hand away and takes Lando down his throat, which has you whimpering and clamping down on your husband coming. Lando gasps as Charles sucks him dry, pushing Charles off as he drops to the bed, panting. The three of you are a mess. 

"Don't leave me," Charles whispers as you tangle his hair with your fingers. Exhaustion seeps into your bones, and darkness takes you over. 

-----------------------------------

Charles doesn't know when he wakes; all he remembers is tensing and his eyes flying open. Warmth covers him front to back, and something soft is wrapped around the warmth. Scanning the room, he groans. Memories of the flight, Mika helping them into your cabin, you coming back, the sex. Fuck, he shouldn't have done that. But he missed you, having you wrapped around him as he pulled you apart. 

Eyes move up, taking in Lando's puffed cheeks and mushed curls. He loved watching you both sleep; it was when you were more at peace. Rolling over, he feels his body go rigid. You weren't there, fuck did you leave. Slipping out of his husband's hold, he places a few soft kisses over the marks he has left. "Be back," Lando whines but settles back down. 

Bending down, Charles slides on some sweatpants and follows the light. He stops when he sees you sitting by the low fire on the phone. "I know, baby. I'm glad you and Cecile are having fun with Uncle Carlos." Charles leans against the frame, watching. "Yes, Papa and Daddy are here," Elijah must say something because your face scrunches up. 

"I don't know, honey. Um, Pa...Charles said some stuff during our fight that hurt. So I don't know if we'll get back together." Charles loses his smile and stands up straight. "Elijah, I understand you want me to talk to him, but.....listen. You tell Cecile that I'm okay. Also, please don't give Carlos a hard time, alright. Also look after the twins, oh remember that Oscar's daughter is coming to visit. Yes, Victoria. No, Elijah, don't fight with her. Just, okay, yeah, bye." Hanging up the phone, Charles quickly bolts into the bedroom. 

Lying down, Lando immediately attaches himself to Charles. The door creaks open, and you slide into the bed. But you don't cuddle into Charles; instead, you roll onto your other side, back facing him. 

He was losing you. 

-----------------------------------

"But, it's snowing, and I think it would be nice," Lando begs, trying to get you and Charles to do something together. "Exactly, it's snowing, and we're in Finland. It's not exactly a British winter." Charles grumbles into his coffee. "Yn, pretty please. This is the first time we're in your home country. I want to see it." Lando makes his eyes big, and Charles looks away quickly. 

You groan as Lando starts to smirk, knowing he's got you. "Fine, there is a trail we can take that the locals use. It's about 2 hours, both ways." Lando cheers and rushes to the bedroom. The tension rolls off of you and Charles in thick waves. Putting down his mug, he stands and leaves you with no words or kisses. 

45 minutes later, with multiple layers of clothing, you trail behind Lando, who talks Charles's ear off. "Yes, Lando, I know that." Charles smiles, kissing him gently as Lando takes a picture of the snow-covered mountains. It's another 15 minutes before Lando gets tired of you two not talking. 

"Cecile was wondering if she came here and visited you," Charles staggers, but Lando catches him without a beat. "Really? I guess the kids could come here and visit." It never occurred to you that they could come out and visit. "Yeah, it's a great idea, don't you think?" Charles stops walking as you pass him, smiling. 

"You could come home," Charles whispers, cheeks dusted pink from the cold weather. The scuff you let out had Lando's shoulders tense. He could feel the fight coming a mile away, and this was one place he didn't want to get stuck in the middle. "Do I have a home to come back to? Or will you kick me out again?" The sneer on your lips has Charles's face pulled tighter. 

"Charlie, don't." Lando pleads, placing a hand on his chest, wanting him to calm down. "Your home is with us and our kids." Charles's voice was eerily calm, and Lando knew that all hell would break loose with one more comment. "I think you mean my kids. Or did you forget Elijah isn't yours?" It was a low blow, but all the hurt and anger you've felt over the past 4 months was too much. How dare he come here and demand you go home when he's why you're not home. 

"You're right, he isn't mine. I don't even think you're mine too." Charles snaps as Lando looks between the two of you. Fear in his eyes, as this could be the end. The end of his family. "You're right! I was never yours! And you know what? I should've divorced you after you kicked Lando out. How he can still stay with you is a fucking miracle." Charles's face goes neutral, the same look he had when Mattia told him off. His emotions are gone. 

"When you two get home, I hope Lando has the fucking mind to leave you and take the kids and let your worse fucking nightmare come true!" "ENOUGH!" 

Charles and you jump, turning to see Lando standing there, breathing hard. "Just enough. Please?" He begs the emotions and thoughts he's held together, snapping. "What the fuck is the matter with you? The both of you?" Charles has the mind to look ashamed, as do you. "How could you say those horrible things to one another? We're married! We have TWO gorgeous children and a wonderful life. I know I wasn't there initially, that Charles held you together. That you told a lie because you were hurt and trying to not let it all kill you, but fuck." 

"Y/n," Lando turns, looking at you, before taking a deep breath. "What you've done, said, it hurt. You manipulated us in a way that has cracked this marriage in a way we'll never recover from. But, you know what. I don't care. I don't; you're the love of my life and the mother of my two gorgeous, brilliant, talented children. You could kill me, and I'd forgive you. But you are holding onto such hate inside you for Nico that it's hurting us all. Nico, he," Lando sucks in a breath. "Lando, don't." "Shut up," The two of them stare at one another before Lando looks back at you. 

"Nico, he didn't leave you. He bought a new apartment and wrote that letter to tell you how excited he was and how much he loved you. But you never read the letter because you thought he left you. And that's okay because if you had read that letter, you'd have never fallen in love with us, and we wouldn't have Cecile. Y/n, you're not in your 20s anymore. Please, you need that closure when you come home. Because this is not your home, please talk to Nico. There is a piece of you that you're hiding from us because of him, and I have ignored it for 16 years, but no more." Reeling from his words, Lando turns his attention to Charles. 

"And you," He points his finger at Charles, who curls back like Lando has slapped him. "Grow up, get over it. She didn't cheat on us, she didn't fuck him while you two were together and then lie. She never told us who the father was; she moved the truth around. I know that losing your father and Jules was the worst pain imaginable and then losing Anthoine, and that was another person who left you. Charles, we're not leaving you, but we will if you keep shoving us away." 

Charles looks away as the silence surrounds you. "Charles, Charlie, look at me." Charles looks up, staring deep into Lando's eyes. "Elijah is yours, Cecile is yours. Y/n and I are yours. Never think that will change. Elijah is your little boy, the first person he goes to. Listen to me. We're all going to therapy because I refuse to let this relationship fail. If you two don't get your shit together, I'm taking the kids and leaving. Now, fucking TALK!" Lando screams and shoves past Charles and down the trail, leaving you two some peace. 

You two stare at one another; Charles opens his mouth to say something but keeps closing it, unable to say a word. 

"You didn't follow me," Charles snaps his eyes, shocked at your words. "For four months, Charlie. You didn't call, text, write, or even ask about me. Four months of hell, and you come here and then demand me to come home." Stepping closer, Charles takes a step back. 

"A part of me was scared that when I got here, you'd kick me out. And that terrified me. I don't care that Nico is Elijah's," Charles swallows the words and clears his throat. "I care that you didn't trust me for 16 years. Care enough to tell me the truth. After talking to Nico and reading the letters, I understand why. But, fuck," He rips his hand out of his jacket and wipes the tears away. 

"It's all my fault. I went back to therapy and realized that, but a part of it is your fault, too." You scuff, but stop thinking it all over. "He hurt me more than I want to admit. I just wanted to cause him pain, and by causing him pain, I hurt us both." Charles hiccups, wiping away the tears faster. "Four months, that's how long Cecile and you haven't talked to me. We need you home. We'll go to therapy. Hell, I'll stop racing if it means you stay. I'm going to fight for our family." You throw yourself into his arms as you two cry in the snow. 

"Also, Lando is ready to kill Nico on command, and so am I. Mika told us what he said to you, and I'll skin that fucker." You laugh as Charles pulls you back into his chest. "Oh, also, could you possibly call your Uncle David off. While commenting, he's destroyed Lando and me, and it's not fun." You laugh louder, but it stops when the crunch of snow has you facing the sound. 

"Thank god, can we please go home. I'm about to freeze my balls off, and I know you both love my balls." Lando whines; Charles and you share a look and smile. "Yeah, let's go home." 

---------------------------

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[cherrygukki]

after last night (m)

➸ pairing: rich fuckboy! jungkook x f. reader ➸ word count: 4.3k ➸ genres: acquaintances to fwb, smut, unreciprocated love, mild angst if you squint, and a sprinkle of fluff ➸ summary: After last night, Jungkook doesn't know what to do. You got to tell him when he's gonna see you again before he drives himself crazy. ➸ warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, protected sex, whiny jk, rough, making out in public for like a minute, grinding, lots of kissing, hickeys, dirty talk, praise kink, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting (once), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, he's WHIPPED for reader's pussy, i almost forgot to say that jk also finishes early but that's okay he makes up for it🤭🤭 ➸ author's note: As what the title suggests, this short series (maybe) is inspired by After Last Night by Bruno Mars. I'm literally OBSESSED with this song so I couldn't help but write something dedicated to it. As always, enjoy reading!

Wishin' on a shootin' star, say a prayer for me

And hope it comes true

Jungkook can't help but heave a sigh, twirling the almost empty wine glass around in his hand while looking at the night sky with such loneliness in his eyes.

The sight above him is beautiful, but to him, there's nothing more beautiful than the image of your face in front of him right now. He craves you by his side, appreciating the view outside his window as you spend the most loving time in your lives.

So, when his eyes spot the phenomenal shooting star that swiftly passes through his home, his mind screams your name right away, praying to whoever's listening to him in the sky to have you here with him.

It's foolish, but he'll just about do anything to see you again, hoping that his wishes will eventually come true someday.

Throw my phone out the window, there's no player in me

Those days are through

When he said that he's willing to do anything for you, he meant it with every fiber of his being. Hence, it doesn't take Jungkook any second thought to pull his phone out of his pocket only to throw it out the window. He lets it fall freely from the high level of his penthouse without a care. Perhaps it's the alcohol seeping into his veins, putting him under the influence, but there still remains a part of him where he doesn't regret what he just did. After all, he only wants to prove you one thing by the end of the day —

He's more than willing to enter a new chapter in his life, and the title of that chapter is you.

You put it on me like I never felt before

That gushy, gushy good, girl, I want some more

While Jungkook continues to appreciate the mesmerizing city landscape beyond him, his mind couldn't help but drift off to the moment you met each other for the first time.

He had only intended to have a great time with his old friends during that highschool reunion of your batch. If only you hadn't attended that party like the gorgeous goddess you were to his eyes, then perhaps he wouldn't be so crazy like he is now.

Back then, Jungkook merely thought of you as the smart student who had a few admirers here and there, only ever getting the chance to talk with you every time you're paired up on a project, but he never thought of batting an eye towards your direction. However, the clearer view of your beauty in the present is in no doubt, indeed a present to him.

Without hesitation, he strikes up a conversation with you right away, leaving everyone else in the ditch as his entire attention was now directed on you, and you only.

It took hours for the party to end, thus it doesn't surprise you to see Jungkook impatient to get the both of you out of the venue, for you already knew where this night was about to end the moment he greeted you.

You haven't even gotten the opportunity to jump inside his car, but you're already making out on his hood like horny teenagers all over again. He kisses you with a spark of fire, spreading flames all over your body like a wildfire. You moan when he bites your bottom lip before pulling away, extending his warmth down to your exposed neck where he marks you like his personal treasure. You throw your head back in no shame whatsoever, disregarding the environment around you when you begin to grind your crotch against his thigh. The moans you let out our wanton, especially when he easily locates that sensitive spot on your neck to lick, suck, and bite on it that already has you reeling for the man.

You're certain there's a wet splotch in your underwear by now, already aroused from merely grinding away on Jungkook's thick thigh as well as him leaving dark spots all over your neck as if tomorrow will never come.

He slithers a tattooed hand beneath your dress to rub your clothed folds. You gasp loudly at the abrupt intrusion, letting him do whatever he desires at the moment while you relax at the sensational touches he leaves on you.

Whimpering, you grip tightly on his shoulder to urge him to go on. "Don't stop," you whine, "Please don't stop, fuck—"

"I won't, sweetheart." He licks at the fresh hickey he's just made while whispering. "I won't."

Before anyone could even catch up to what was going on, Jungkook hides the both of you from out in the open, hastily fishing his car keys from his pocket to unlock the Black Mercedes he's about to drag you in. He opens the backdoor, and soon enough, he's messily falling along with you on the leather seats where you continue to explore each other's bodies.

He locks the car again before hunching your dress around your waist to take a look at the sopping mess you've done with your panties, pushing them to the side when he finally gets to touch your bare pussy for the first time tonight.

Growling, he leans down to your ear only to send you a hot wave of shivers with the raspy whisper he lets out. "Gonna make you cum so hard tonight, sweetheart." He chuckles, "So fucking hard."

Jungkook wasn't expecting to receive exactly the same treatment he intends to give you tonight.

The moment you arrive at his penthouse, the two of you are already sticking to each other immediately like opposite poles of a magnet until you eventually navigate yourselves to the large couch in his living room. He settles you comfortably on his lap, hands traveling down to your clothed ass where he kneads them as you continue to lap each other out. You're the first one to pull away after a few more seconds, for he's already sucking the breath out of you with his plush lips alone.

You impatiently begin to unbutton his dress shirt, admiring the bulky figure that's hidden underneath the flimsy layer of fabric. He does the same to you, wrapping an arm around your back to unzip the tight outfit refraining his eyes from indulging in your gorgeous figure. The straps fall loosely around your shoulders, and soon enough, your dress is already messily hunched around your waist, exposing the entirety of your body to Jungkook's lust-hungry gaze.

By the time you get rid of his top, you don't hesitate to lean down and place kitten licks on his nipple. He quietly gasps at your bold move, resisting the temptation to have his eyes rolling back when you lick a fat stripe on his chest. He shivers underneath you, falling victim for your presence as he tightens the hold he has on your waist. Your pussy is gushing your arousal like a waterfall, and Jungkook doesn't fail to notice how desperate your whimpers get when you pick up the motion of your hips on his thigh.

Pulling away, you attack his lips ferociously, moaning oh-so wantonly that it has the tent in Jungkook's pants growing angrier by the minute. "I wanna ride your face."

"Fuck yeah, baby." Jungkook almost whines when you hastily settle yourself on his face, having your panties already ridden off earlier from the steamy car ride on the way home. You pant heavily, sensing his warm breath knocking right on your entrance, steadily aligning your core above his pillowy lips until he takes matters in his own hands — becoming more desirous for the sweet nectar leaking over him.

"Oh! Fuck, Jungkook—" You draw out a long mewl when he laps at your pussy like an oasis, leaving no drop of your juices out of his mouth as he dances his tongue around your sopping folds.

Nothing left could be heard in the spacious room aside from your lewd moans and the obscene noises of your wet pussy being eaten out by Jungkook.

You desperately grind on his face, searching for more friction, repeatedly nudging the tip of his nose with your clit which only has you throwing your head back in bliss.

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels more than euphoric seeing your fucked out expression from below. He wiggles his tongue in every spot he deemed fit to have you toppling near the edge. Your taste alone is enough to get him off, bucking his hips in the air to seek for a release himself. Swallowing every drop you offered him only has him going crazier by the second, only urging him to fuck you with his tongue this instant, and that's what he exactly did.

The abrupt intrusion of his tongue between your folds elicited a loud whimper from you. He fucks you with his tongue like how he would with his cock — messy and fast.

Breathy chants of his name and a messy mantra of moans and whimpers come tumbling off your tongue. You bounce on his face like the desperate one you were, chasing that orgasm that's merely boiling from deep within your core.

He simply couldn't get enough of your essence, akin to getting intoxicated by the best form of addiction in the world. He continues to lap on your dripping cunt as if he's the next one in line on a death row, moaning every now and then which sends vibrations reverberating up your spine. Your mind blacks out, and now the only thing you can think of is Jungkook's skilled and wet tongue bringing you to an intense orgasm.

You don't hold back from leaving your mouth ajar to spill out the most sinful, yet heavenly noises Jungkook has ever heard, provoking him to add up to your pleasure by encouraging you to swivel your hips around his face.

Your pending orgasm is peeking around the corner, and the knot that's about to blow up inside you is about to make a mess on Jungkook's swollen lips. "Fuck, Jungkook, I'm cumming—" you whine, thighs shaking profusely until the knot snaps.

Gasping, Jungkook doesn't leave any of your juices unwelcome, for he's greedily drinking your juices up in pure gluttony. Your pussy keeps gushing out new waves of your orgasm for Jungkook to consume, and he can never get sick of it. If anything, it leaves him wanting more of that gushy sweetness you provide him, never ever being stunned from the way you do it.

Sweet, sticky, thick and pretty

You changed the game

At this point, Jungkook wants nothing more than to shove his cock in the prettiest pussy he's seen in his life, similar to a messy abstract painting that always succeeds in enticing the people's eyes — that's how beautiful Jungkook saw you.

Slowly lifting your hips off his panting face, you finally take a glimpse for the first time on how fucked out he already seemed. His lips are absolutely smeared with your essence, and perhaps a few of it even landed on his chin and his nose. However, your appreciation session on the man's features are cut short when he rips open the condom hiding in his pocket, swiftly stripping himself off his pants until his dick is finally sprang out in the open; tall and leaking with pre-cum.

He rolls the condom around his shaft, and before you know it, he's already forcing you down on his lap where your soft walls gain contact with the tip of his cock.

"Gonna fuck your pretty little pussy with my cock, baby. You want that?"

You mewl in response, eagerly nodding as you visibly bite your lower lip. Spreading your slick all over his tip, you steadily sink yourself around his girth, eliciting a guttural groan between the two of you. For a moment, you can feel the wind knock out of your lungs from how full you felt. Your walls kept themselves snug around Jungkook's veiny shaft, and he swears, he's losing his composure faster by the second.

"Fuck," he lowly whimpers when you finally bottom out, large hands settling on your hips to slowly drag you up again. Your pussy already leaves a trail of dribbling slick down the length of his cock, and it definitely earns a hiss to come out between Jungkook's teeth.

He helps you in riding him, a lewd yelp falling off your pretty lips when your hips crash down on his thick thighs, causing his tip to kiss the top of your cervix inside. Soon enough, your pace becomes increasingly desperate, as what seemed to be mildly moderate a few seconds back turns to a merciless wrath of Jungkook's cock roughly fucking into your dripping cunt.

"Jungkook!" You cry his name in utter bliss before the weight of your head gives in, leaning on his shoulder for support as you unknowingly drool on the taut muscle. He growls animalistically, fucking you with full force and great speed which leaves the air humid, and the sound of skin slapping and wet squelches of your pussy fill the quiet space of his penthouse.

A staccato of breathy moans spill out from your lips like a waterfall. His cock was covered in your slick, shimmering in your thick arousal which only heightened Jungkook's stimulation.

"God, look at you—your cunt is drooling all over my cock, baby. Wettest pussy in the fucking world, shit—"

Your walls clench from his words, another wave of your juices gushing out from your pussy. No one else can make you hornier than the man fucking you right at this very moment. His brows are furrowed in concentration, mind unable to think of anything else aside from his cock rearranging your guts. He's practically pierced everywhere, and the fact that he has a full-sleeve tattoo covering the whole of his right arm only aids on to your arousal.

He catches you momentarily staring at him, and he only simpers at you. "Fuck, like what you see, baby?" The clench you do confirms your thought. "Yeah, I know you do, baby. Your cunt is so fucking wet for me, isn't it? Such a good fucking cunt, taking dick so obediently, yeah?"

"S-So good," you mewled on his shoulder, breathing becoming labored when his tip repeatedly nudges your sweet spot. The obscene noises increase in volume, which encourages Jungkook to remain consistent with his thrusts.

Everything feels messy and sticky down below where your arousal has certainly reached Jungkook's balls, covering them in white as some of it land on your ass where they clap in motion of his rough thrusts.

Jungkook swears to God that he's losing it every minute, feeling his climax build up faster than usual, too lost in the incredible sensation of your tight walls clinging onto his length for dear life. Oh, and was he extremely whipped for the way you keep creaming around the base of his cock as if you're marking him as your own. He tries to hold back the fighting orgasm bubbling within his gut, but you just had to keep him snug against your warm folds for one last time until he's eventually reaching his breaking point.

"Shit, baby, your cunt's so fucking good I think I'm gonna cum soon—" He draws out one last whine before he's filling up the thin latex material. He breathes heavily, knowing that he's never been the one to cum first during sex. Feeling his dick immediately soften, he pushes you off his cock and pulls the condom off his shaft, hastily flipping you around so he's the one on top of you this time. He grips your knees to force your legs wide, kneeling down so his face is directly in front of your dribbling cunt.

"You haven't cum yet, haven't you, angel?"

"N-No," you stutter, sensing the proximity of his face between your folds.

"Sad you didn't get to cum on my cock, but my fingers will do the trick for now."

Before you could even fully react to his statement, he's already plunging three long digits in your warm cunt, plunging them inside and out at a swift rate that has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull in an instant.

"Holy shit, pussy still so fucking tight even after getting split open with my cock." He bites his lip, pleased with the wet noises your cunt makes whenever he digs them deep within your cavern. You throw your head back as if you're floating on clouds, eyes giving in as you surrender to Jungkook's fingers finishing you off.

"Such a good girl," he coos, "taking my fingers like your pussy's made for them."

You can feel your high lingering in your lower abdomen, that familiar knot beginning to form and Jungkook detects it right away. You almost lost it when he began to increase the speed of his fingers, but what has you screaming in such a pornographic manner is his mouth sucking your clit ferociously.

He laps on your clit like a madman, desperate to reach your climax. Your legs begin to profusely shake, and your screams morph into pleasurable sobs that have Jungkook smiling against your heat. You're flooding more and more juices on his hand, his tongue aiding to your fast-approaching orgasm.

"Don't stop, don't stop, pleeeaasseeee, don't fucking stop!" You pant wildly as your hands fly to his soft locks, gripping on them for dear life to lock his mouth in place of your clit. Jungkook was absolutely shameless for loudly slurping on your wetness, flicking your clit with his tongue simultaneously which brought the cherry on top for your orgasm.

"So good, I'm cumming, shit—"

He temporarily pulls away from your cunt. "Go on and make a mess all over my face, pretty girl. You did so, so fucking well for me."

With that, he sucks on your clit for one last time before your vision fades to black. A large wave of your wetness gushes out of your pussy, forcing his fingers to pull out which has him aiming for your clit right away. He rapidly rubs your clit, groaning in satisfaction with the mess he caused.

"Damn, angel, you just fucking squirted all over me."

You're panting heavily, unable to register anything that Jungkook's saying to you, for the recent orgasm you experienced has just hit you in the head like a truck. Your body is still twitching due to the overstimulation, but Jungkook didn't seem to care at all.

Jungkook appreciates how your pussy appears to be more glossy from how much you squirted, licking his lips in temptation before leaning in to swipe a fat stripe of his tongue from the bottom of your folds to your gorging clit. You shiver from the overstimulation, taking the pleasure nonetheless.

How can you ever make him stop when this man is an absolute fucking sex god?

"Fuck, your pussy's so sweet, baby," he whines on your folds before proceeding to flick his tongue left and right at a rapid pace. Your eyes struggle to keep themselves open, for the only sensation you yearn to keep is his mouth working wonders on you. Your moans increase in both volume and pitch, and you swear the man eating you out like a whole buffet is about to pull another mind-boggling orgasm out of you.

He only adds on to your rapture when he inserts three of his slender digits inside you again. You gasp loudly, legs profusely spasming to the point where you can't keep them open anymore. You attempt to squeeze your thighs between Jungkook's face, which causes him to forcefully pry them open when he growls on your pussy.

"This cunt will be the fucking death of me, angel," he chuckles, planting a soft peck on your clit contrary to the merciless motion of his fingers. "Make a mess one more time for me, sweetheart, hm?"

"I-I can't," you sob, nails clawing on the fabric of the couch as you feel your climax flying to its peak. "Too much..!"

"You can and you fucking will," he growls again, and the vibrations felt on your heat is what triggers another mind-shattering orgasm to crash down on you. Your legs wail around from the strong intensity, but Jungkook held you still. His mouth remains unbothered when you spill your juices all over his lips, happily lapping up on your remains.

The overstimulation makes you shudder, and your cunt at this point is overly sensitive from the continuous motions of his wet tongue. "T-Too much." You use all of your remaining strength to push his head away, and you're thankful he did, only to land a wad of spit onto your sensitive cunt, anyway. He rubs the small bundle of nerves in slow, circular motions, which makes you whine.

"Jungkook, I really c-can't anymore," you whine, and he finally separates himself away from your cunt despite the addiction coursing in his veins. He leans down on your face to pull you in one last tender kiss. Your taste has definitely made its mark on Jungkook's lips, evident when he tangles his tongue with yours.

He's the first to pull away before things become more heated again, abruptly carrying you in the air with his taut arms to bring you to his bedroom. "You should look at yourself, pretty," he snickers, "You look fucking adorable in my arms like this."

You blush at his comment, shying yourself away from his gaze which Jungkook merely chuckled to. He brings you to his bedroom where he provides you with the most tender care you've experienced in your life, gently cleaning you up here and there with a wet tissue as well as giving you a generous donation with one of his shirts to keep you warm.

Jungkook was never a big fan of aftercare, preferring to keep things casual by letting whoever he hooked up with leave right away. However, seeing you laying there, exhausted from everything, gave him this strong urge to cradle you in his arms in an instant, which makes him exactly do that.

In tangled sheets, you and Jungkook sleep through the night with your limbs intertwining one another. He couldn't exactly place the blossoming sensation in his chest, but he decides to brush it off, thinking it'll all wither away in the morning.

Boy, was he wrong.

After last night

After last night, I think I'm in love with you

The next day, Jungkook wakes up next to the large empty space of his bed. At first, he could hardly remember everything that occurred last night, until the memories all came crashing down at him at once when the image of your face appeared in his brain.

His heart hammers the moment he thought about the long, yet ephemeral night he spent with you. His first instinct is to get up from bed and call out your name, thinking you're still somewhere within his residence.

"___?" He's been chanting your name like a broken toy, searching for every part of his penthouse. To no avail, though, it seems you have left Jungkook alone without bidding him a proper farewell. The only trace of you he has is the small note you wrote placed on top of the counter. It merely stated about you leaving extra early for personal reasons, saying you enjoyed the night with him nonetheless.

However, Jungkook feels himself pouting when you didn't bother leaving a number for him nor any sort of connection that'll have him talk to you again. He reminisces about the valuable time he cherished with you last night, remembering even the smallest details of you. His favorite feature of yours is definitely your smile, following the sound of your giggles echoing through his ears. You possess the plumpest lips that are worth dying for, and definitely the belle of the party last night.

To top it all off, you also had the sweetest pussy he's ever laid his hands on.

He didn't realize that he's been staring into empty space for the past few minutes, immediately blinking away any thoughts of you before deciding to proceed with his daily routine.

A lingering sensation of longing for you still remains in his chest, though. And it's slowly driving him to madness.

After last night, he's probably in love with you for all he knows.

Woke up and I can't get you out of my head

After last night, I don't know what to do

Jungkook has never seen himself be this crazy for a woman, let alone it being after a supposed one night stand.

Did you perhaps cast a hex on him? Your face haunts him even during the middle of daylight. You're like an addiction he can't get rid of no matter how hard he tries. You come to him like you were meant for him, and he can't help but be simultaneously overwhelmed and amused from how much he's thinking about you.

He can't think straight from how much you've been conquering his mind throughout the day, spacing out every minute and so to cling onto the last traces of you by solely remembering you.

Jeon Jungkook is absolutely head over heels for you.

(Baby, you've got to tell me)

When I'm gon' see you again

On the couch is Jungkook endlessly scrolling through his phone, checking out every social media app possible to possibly find you and gain contact with you for the sake of his remaining sanity. It seems like fate has been on the wrong side with him when he's unable to find a hint of you no matter how thorough he searches.

He can only sigh when his hope begins to plummet. Perhaps you were only meant to be another mere one night stand that'll add on to Jungkook's promiscuous history and nothing more. After all, you were aware from the very beginning that a man like Jungkook can't be trusted, thus making you leave before you could possibly get attached to the man.

However, after last night, he doesn't bat a single eye to any other woman whenever he's out with his friends.

After last night, you're all that takes up most of Jungkook's mind.

After last night, he began doing the craziest shit all because of you.

After last night, Jungkook only clings onto one question for the following weeks of his life: When is he going to see you again?

after last night (two)

#bts #bts smut #bangtan #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #fanfic

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Chapter 2

Finnick x Reader

Series Masterlist Link

I had some down time while my flight was delayed so here’s another chapter! Hopefully chapter 3 will come out in a few days but we shall see. Thanks for all the love on the first chapter!

Content warnings - flashback to prostitution assault and detailed descriptions of killing/death

You weren’t always known as a feral victor. Sure, some of your kills in the arena were a bit much, but it’s not uncommon to see that behavior in the games. It is a fight to the death after all. What is uncommon, however, is that literal fight continuing afterwards.

After the incident with the first doctor, which was kept quiet from the public at first, Snow believed you would still be of use from him. He thought the capital doctors could “fix you” and make you “civilized” again. He’s lucky he always had guards with him, or he would have ended up on your list.

Finnick, your mentor, thought that your post-arena violence might save you from his fate in the capital. He tried to convince Snow that it wasn’t a good idea to assign you clients, that you were unpredictable and things could go very wrong. Snow thought it would be fine.

“Sure she may put up a fight,” he told Finnick, “most of them do. But, I don’t think that should be an issue for her client. He could break her quite easily if he needed to.”

And break you he did, just not physically. It was you who did the physical breaking.

You didn’t mean to kill him, nor anyone else outside the arena, but his grotesque hands roaming your body triggered something deep inside you; a primal instinct you first felt in the arena. It was kill or be killed.

You tried to push through it. Snow had warned you what would happen to your family if you didn’t comply. But laying there being completely violated by this capital man broke the only pieces of you that had survived the arena. Your mind had convinced itself that you were out of options.

The man’s avox had phoned the police when she heard him scream, but they weren’t fast enough. He was so engrossed in his actions that he didn’t notice the way your eyes turned cold, or the way you stopped protesting.

Less than two minutes later, he was dead. You still can’t shake the feeling of his eyeballs under your nails, or the sound he made as you crushed his esophagus. The worst part was having to unattach yourself from him when the ordeal was over. You didn’t even protest when the police entered. They sedated you and carried you off, away from the scene of your crime.

Did you mean to kill him? No.

Do you regret it? Absolutely not.

The only thing you regret is coming out of that arena alive; but what’s done is done and there’s no going back.

Your prep team won’t go anywhere near you for the parade, which is quite the dilemma. How the hell were you supposed to get ready? You’re surprised a stylist designed something for you at all, or that they’re even letting you participate for that matter.

Apparently, your stylist didn’t design the outfit. He said that his mentor, Tigress, wanted to design something for you specifically but she is banned from the games so he volunteered to bring her design to you. He’s the first person in the capital who doesn’t seem terrified to be in your presence, but the peacekeepers still won’t let him near.

You’re forced to dress in front of the peacekeepers. They uncuff you at least but it’s still uncomfortable. You would strangle them all right now but unfortunately there would be consequences.

Snow paid you a visit last night. He told you exactly what would happen if you went “feral” before the games.

“We wouldn’t want Mr. Odair’s pedestal to malfunction while he was standing on it, would we?” he stated. “Or for Mrs. Flanagan to come down with a horrible illness. That would be quite unfortunate.”

You had to do everything possible to keep yourself under control, but even that could only help so much. The rage you felt inside was growing and it wasn’t calming down anytime soon.

“Why isn’t it ready yet?” the shrill voice of Linessa calls to the peacekeepers outside of your room.

“No prep team would touch her,” they tell her. “The tribute is getting herself dressed.”

“Move,” Finnick states as he pushes past the group to enter your room. You’re mostly clothed but are having issues with zipping up the back of your gown.

It’s a beautiful blue gown that hugs your skin before flaring out just below your hips. The stylist explained it as, “The image of a silent siren. A deeply misunderstood mythological creature of the ocean.”

Finnick slowly approaches, making sure you can see his hands.

“Can I help get you ready?” he asks. “We need to be out there soon.”

You nod and turn so he can zip up your dress. The feeling of his hands on your back causes you to tense up but you grit your teeth and remind yourself it’s just Finnick.

Practically grinding your teeth dull, you let Finnick do a simple makeup look on you to match your outfit. You wish you could give him an outfit instead of a net but neither you nor Mags have a say in the matter. You especially don’t.

Finnick is especially careful not to touch the scar that runs down the side of your face. You got it during your games and the capital doctors refused to polish it off after you killed one with a scalpel for taking your temperature. You wish you had the temperament to let him cover it up with the makeup but you know it would set you off.

When he’s done, the peacekeepers come and recuff your wrists but leave your feet free so you don’t trip in the dress.

“She doesn’t need those,” Finnick tells them.

“I’m sorry Mr. Odair but these are direct orders from Snow,” they state.

“Will you remove them before the parade?” he asks.

“No,” they state. Mags whispers something to Finnick and he nods in understanding before approaching you slowly.

“Hey,” he calmly states. “I need to go talk to some people before the parade. Stay with Mags and I’ll come get you before we start.” You nod and he leaves.

The peacekeepers force you and Mags out to where the chariots are, but make you stay along the edge of the stables where they can keep an eye on you. They wouldn’t want any of the “excitement” to start before the games begin.

You can see Finnick talking to Katniss, last year’s victor. You don’t really know any of the other victors besides Finnick and Mags. They know all about you, of course, but none of them care enough to get to know you. The only one who has ever spoken to you (over the phone of course) is Johanna Mason of District 7. She’s pretty close with Finnick and they talk all the time. You would be jealous if Finnick didn’t practically live at your place and spend all his time with you. Plus Johanna hates people.

“Hey feisty!” you hear Johanna call as she approaches you. Finnick has shown you pictures of her but outside of that and watching her games you had only ever heard her voice. The peacekeepers move to block her but one glare from her sends them away. “How’s life outside of your cell?”

You give her a thumbs down and she laughs in response, catching the attention of the other tributes.

“Well I give it double thumbs down,” she states.

“Johanna!” you hear a male yell. “Get your ass over here.”

“Ugh Blight’s calling,” Johanna groans. “See ya later feisty!”

You think you’re done socializing for today when you’re approached by a young blond boy. He doesn’t protest when the peacekeepers keep him five feet away.

“Hi y/n,” he states. “I’m Peeta. I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

You give him a blank stare as you study him. Something about you feels like he’s harmless, but you can’t be too sure.

“Ah Melark,” Gloss booms as he approaches the boy. “Don’t take it personal. Feral doesn’t talk.”

It’s clear these two haven’t met before as Peeta looks a bit scared of the career. You’d met Gloss once before your games as he was your allies’ mentor, but you haven’t spoken in years. Him and Finnick aren’t close.

“Oh, uh I’m sorry,” Peeta stutters. He glances over his shoulder to see Finnick flirting with Katniss. “Uh nice to meet you I guess.”

Peeta looks harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Katniss, on the other hand, looks like trouble.

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