#like. i don't wanna screw this up and let people down. but i know if i put too much pressure on myself i'm gonna collapse.

[dariwrites03]

Fucked up Monday. 2/3

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/daribertduck/748615753776955392/fucked-up-monday

A/n: Before you guys kill me; I’m already writing part 3. don’t you worry it’s coming your way. Please comment & repost, it’s giving me much motivation!

Summary: After Ellie kissed you on Patrol, everything was turning weird, you’re full of guilt and other feelings... What happens when your life turns from agonizing to better to so much worse? And why exactly can a few letters change everything?

Warnings: none? I think?

Taglist: @bready101 @lia-winther @liciapeonia @darkerstarsstuff @patricks-fabulous-face ( I tagged some people from my comments, hope that’s alright)

-5700k words

„And I thought I was weird for feeling uncomfortable at that, you know? They broke up, it's not really his place to say anything like that especially after telling Dina he's over her anyways" You're best friend said, finishing up her explanation of yesterdays event with Dina and Jesse. He found the two of them smoking near a warehouse and from what you made out of Ellie's explanation, he wasn't too happy to see them sitting so close.

You and Ellie were having another movie night, those happen pretty often. ( Every Wednesday, to be exact.) sitting on the old sofa in your living room with you're legs resting on hers. „Well, it's still fresh. Don't think he's jealous of the two of you spending lots of time together but maybe it's just a weird feeling seeing her with someone else, though there's absolutely nothing between you and Dina" you replied, chuckling at the thought of Jesse being all jealous over nothing. You rested your head back against the many sofa pillows, enjoying the comfy half sitting half laying position you're in. „Yeah.. totally" Ellie mumbled, looking down at her hands resting on top of you ankles, shifting uncomfortably. Knowing Ellie probably better than anyone else, you knew right away that something seems off.

„Wait.." you said,  sensing the weird vibe from you're best friend. „There is nothing between you two, right?" you said, lifting you're upper body into a more sitting posture. „Ellie?" you said her name as you're so called friend didn't answer right away. You felt you're heart stink, not really being sure of what's going on exactly. „uhm.. I don't wanna talk about it?" she said, looking at you with an apologetic look, making it sound more like a question than an real steady answer. „Hell no, remember our ‚no lying rule'?" you said. „Cmon we made that rule as we were 15, that's childish." she said while caressing through her hair, suddenly looking all exhausted. „It wasn't childish when I had my first kiss and didn't want to talk about it" You mentioned. Remembering the night you ran about 2 miles to Ellie's house after spending the afternoon with some other kids in the pub, playing some stupid games. After you kissed Sophia as you're truth or dare quest you took of running, straight into the arms of the brown haired girl who couldn't participate that nights event due to a cold. Ellie knew something must've happened and as you really didn't want to talk about it, embarrassed by the fact that everyone could probably tell you never kissed anyone ever before, Ellie set up a rule. *„Let's promise to always be honest, life is too fucked up to screw it up with lies"* you knew she was right and since that night you tried to always be honest to each other.

„Cmon that's totally different!" Ellie defended herself, crossing her arms above her chest. „Jesus, Williams, answer the fucking question and stop being difficult" you said with a light voice, feeling like Ellie was some deer that takes of running as soon as you're tone was slightly off. „I mean, there is nothing between me and Dina.. so" she explained and you could tell that She was satisfied with her answer since her shoulders became less tense. „But you wish there was?" you asked, not able to look at Ellie you decided to give you're hands something to do, grabbing the soda can you had standing infront of you at the table. „I.. yeah, I guess? Okay. Who am I kidding" she said, her hands running over her face. She revealed a slight laugh. „Oh god" she groaned, now fully blushing like a 13 year old teenager. „Yeah, yeah I do like her. Fuck, this is the first time admitting it out loud" she said.

You took a sip from you're soda, the carbonic acid being long gone since you opened the can almost 2 hours ago, giving you a second or two to continue to stay silent. Having the opportunity to ignore the trouble of you're mind right now

The Jealousy building up inside of you made you think like you're going all crazy, fighting against the urge to scream inside a pillow you took that energy elsewhere. „okay, good for you" you said, taking another sip from the drink, hoping to put out the fire building up in you're chest. Ellie looked at you saying „it's not weird, right? Falling for her?" you looked at her again, considering of telling her what you really think. You consider of telling her that's it's not weird, but you don't like it either. No , you hate it. You hate it so much because you want Ellie to fall for you instead of her.

But you didn't say that. Instead you betrayed your 15 year old self by lying to Ellie and yourself. 

It's been three months, 4 days and 2,5 Hours without a word from her. 

 Ever since then , You are entangled in the delicate web of grief for what felt like for two people, where the threads of loss and longing weave intricate patterns within your heart. Two souls, distinct yet equally significant, find their place in the chambers of your being.

Dylan, now resting six feet under, has embarked on a journey beyond the veil. His earthly vessel lies cradled by the soil, while his essence pirouettes among the constellations. The wasteland of the unknown stretches before him—And then there's your best friend, a constellation of memories and shared secrets. But her presence has become elusive, slipping through your fingers like sand. She chooses silence—a withdrawal that echoes louder than any spoken words. And you tried. Oh, how you tried to get her to speak—the silent symphony of longing, the unspoken words that hung in the air like dew-kissed spider silk. Your gaze, a language of its own, whispered secrets that transcended mere sentences. But she? She met your offerings with silence—a void that echoed louder than any spoken syllable. She stopped coming over. The threshold of your space became a chasm, a bridge severed by unspoken truths. The door, once a portal to laughter and whispered confidences, now stood closed. The only ever time you got to see her, to give yourself the inner peace of her being okay, was on the weekly parol meetings. She attended, her presence a fragile thread connecting you both. But she mastered the art of departure—slipping away before your eyes could catch hers. The opposite direction became her refuge, a path untrodden by your footsteps.

Talking wasn't what Ellie needed. You sensed it, that unspoken ache in the air—the need for silence, for space. So you stepped back, honoring the boundaries she drew around her heart. But your longing couldnt be unoticed by you any longer so after three weeks, you started writing to her. Youre desperation spilled over, ink bleeding onto paper.  You became a clandestine messenger, slipping perfumed notes into the small slit of her mailbox. Each letter carried a piece of your soul—a plea, a confession, a desperate whisper.  It lingered on your fingertips, a bridge between worlds. And as you pressed those letters into the darkness, you imagined her fingers brushing against them. Would she feel the urgency? Would she hear your silent screams for her friendship?  Handwritten letters—those delicate vessels of ink and paper—weave memories that transcend mere words. Each stroke of the pen, each carefully crafted sentence, carries a piece of the you in them. The intimacy lies not only in the content but also in the act of creation itself. You decided to write her if shes unable to talk, you wanted to give her the space she needed, you tried to be as understanding as you could. But one unanswered letter turned into two, three, four. You stopped putting them into her mailbox after five. 

Now, you're trying to ignore the pain in your heart every time you wake up. Ellie's childish behavior hasn't stopped you from living your life. Instead, you channel your anger and sleepless nights into your work, making each patrol count. Working alongside Jesse has become a bright spot—a fun experience you eagerly anticipate. It's not the same as those moments outside the gates with Ellie, but it's different in a way that doesn't breed resentment.

You and Jesse share a closeness that predates his separation from Dina. The heartbreak they both faced has left its mark, and you find solace in each other's company. Jesse isn't thrilled about the situation either—the breakup and lingering jealousy still gnaw at him. On that second day of patrol together, he broaches the awkward topic between you and Ellie. "So, you gonna tell me what happened or not?" Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the abandoned checkpoint. He pulled a sandwich from his backpack, the crinkling of the wrapper echoing in the dim light. The two of you sat there, weary from the day's patrol, the weight of your assigned route still clinging to your bones. Nightfall had descended too swiftly, and the dangers of this post-apocalyptic world made it impossible to venture home safely after dark. You shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground, the rough edges of the old checkpoint digging into your back. The makeshift campsite was a stark reminder of the life you now led—constantly on the move, always vigilant. Jesse's eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer.

"Don't really know what's there to say, to be honest," you replied, your fingers tracing the edges of the food you'd prepared hours ago. The silence now haning between the two of you wasnt uncomftable,punctuated by the distant howl of a lone infected.  "Maybe explain why we're now patrol partners? I thought you and Ellie made such a good team. Not that I'm complaining, though—we're badass too. Just wondering why you suddenly decided that Ellie wasn't good enough anymore," Jesse's voice cut through the dimly lit space of the makeshift camp. He lay down on the sleeping bag, using his right arm as a makeshift pillow, his gaze fixed on you. The flicker of confusion danced through the forest of your mind as you replayed Jesse's last words.

"What? I didn't decide that," you replied, studying your friend's posture as he took a bite of his cheese sandwich. "I asked Dina what happened earlier today." Jesse mumbled, his mouth still half full. "Ellie told her it was you who decided to change partners. Don't get me wrong—I feel honored to be your new partner in crime. I was just curious about what happened." - ''the fuck?'' You said more to yourself than him. ''Thats so fucked up..'' -"Okay, c'mon, I need the drama. Please explain to me like everything. Consider me one of your gossip girls," Jesse quipped, his unseriousness bringing a smile to your face. You took another bite of your food, savoring the dry bread as you gathered your thoughts. Trusting Jesse, you decided it wasn't a bad idea to share what had transpired between you and Ellie. So, with a deep breath, you began recounting the events of your last patrol with her. Jesse leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. His sandwich forgotten, he hangs on every word as you recount the events of that fateful patrol with Ellie. The tension, the unspoken words, the ache in your chest—it all spills out, painting a vivid picture of the fractured bond between you and the girl who once felt like your world.

"Damn," Jesse mutters, running a hand through his hair. "That's heavy stuff." His gaze lingers on your face, searching for answers. "You think she'll come around?'' You shrug, the weight of uncertainty settling on your shoulders. ''Dont think so, I think she regrets even kissing me. She has dina now, dont think that she'll need me anymore.'' Your gaze drifts down to your wrist, where the matching bracelet still clings—a fragile thread connecting you to Ellie. You wonder if she wears hers. Jesse, now leading forward, nudges your shoulder playfully. "Well, partner," he says, "we'll keep kicking ass out here. Fuck them both".

After that night, you felt like Jesse and you were attached at the hip. Somehow, you both helped each other navigate the jagged terrain of heartbreak, spending time together and letting the hours slip away. Being friends with Jesse had its perks. He acted as a bridge to Ellie, still maintaining a sort of friendship with Dina, getting slim updates from her. Through Jesse, you received updates about Ellie—whether she was safe, whether she'd eaten enough.

But it wasn't the same. Those impersonal updates couldn't replace the warmth of setting eyes on Ellie, hearing her voice—the cadence of her laughter, the way she'd say your name. You missed the little things, the mundane details that had once woven your lives together. But over the time you started to accept the turn of events, knowing you cannot force Friendship on somebody.

You started to distract yourself outside of work, whether it was with Jesse or... Sophia. After that encounter where Maria broke the news to you about Ellie changing everything, you did the only thing you knew you were really good at: You ran off.

Weirdly enough, two weeks after that pivotal moment and your  patrols with Jesse as your new partner, a knock on your door interrupted your vegetable-cutting session in the small kitchen. As you walked toward the door, a million possibilities raced through your mind. Was it Ellie, knocking on the wood on a late rainy afternoon? Or perhaps Jesse, wanting to talk? Dina? Or maybe Joel, coming all the way to the comfort of your four walls to deliver news about his beloved Ellie being hurt.

Secretly, you wished it was Ellie. So you ran a hand through your hair, glancing into the small mirror hanging near the door to check yourself out before opening the squeaky wood.  But on the other side stood Sophia, holding a plate covered in aluminum foil.  "Uhm... hey," she said, her cheeks flushed with red. "I've made some cake—way too much to eat all by myself. I wanted to share it. If, um, you want to, of course. It's chocolate cake." Her words tumbled out in a rush, and you sensed her nervousness. A Small smile spread across your face as you stepped aside, making space for her to enter the house. "That's too kind," you replied. "You've got impeccable timing. I just finished dinner—perfect time for dessert. Come inside." You didn't mention the comforting fact that her house was all the way across town, meaning she'd walked quite a distance just to bring you cake. Nor did you acknowledge that it was common knowledge that Sophia is allergic to Chocolate but it was your favorite.

One hour with Sophia turned into two, and before you knew it, the entire afternoon was filled with your laughter. She ended up staying over, making your house feel less empty. Since Dylan's passing, sleep had eluded you. Without Ellie by your side, it felt impossible to quiet your mind. Sophia changed that somewhat, but it didn't feel the same. Perhaps your own mind betrayed you, clouding your thoughts about her presence. You didn't want her to leave, yet you didn't necessarily want her to stay either. The universe seemed to decide for you, as the strawberry-blonde girl drifted off to sleep on your sofa after what felt like an eternity of talking.

You settled into your gray armchair, gently covering her thin body with your favorite blanket—the same one Ellie used to take whenever she stayed over. The entire night, you found yourself comparing Sophia to Ellie—the way she moved, the cadence of her voice, the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about her interests. It wasn't a good thing, you must admit. Sophia is a nice girl, but you never really considered her a potential friend, especially since you both shared your first kisses with each other. After that, things got weird, and you both grew up, walking different paths.

Yet now, here she was—baking you cakes, making you laugh, and filling the void left by Ellie. The universe had a funny way of intertwining lives, even when hearts were tangled in memories and unanswered letters. Having someone else in Ellie's place is like trying to fit a puzzle piece into a space that was uniquely shaped for her. It's both comforting and disorienting—a blend of familiarity and foreignness. Her presence brings warmth, but it's a different kind—the soft glow of candlelight instead of the blazing fire that Ellie ignited.Sophia's touch is gentle, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin. But it lacks the electric charge—the pulse of longing—that Ellie's touch carried. You wonder if Sophia noticed the way you hesitated, the way your heart stumbles when she leans in too close.

The day with Sophia didnt end there, it  stretched into a comfortable rhythm, covering the next two days of your life —a dance of shared meals, laughter, and quiet moments. Her presence filled the spaces that Ellie had once occupied, and you found yourself not minding it at all. The awkwardness of those initial conversations melted away as you both peeled back layers, revealing stories and dreams that wove your lives together.

But life has a way of interrupting even the most harmonious melodies. Jesse, with his uninvited pizza and the entire Twilight saga in tow, barged into your living room. You tried to politely decline the teen romance marathon—you'd seen it one too many times—but Jesse, being Jesse, brushed off your protests. His eyes widened when he saw Sophia sitting there, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. You knew he'd milk this moment, teasing you about having a cute girl over at your house.

After Jesse left, well, pratically run out, you settled back onto the sofa next to Sophia. "That was... Jesse, right?" she asked, her fingers playing with her curly hair. You leaned against the soft material of the sofa, nodding. "Uhm, yup." Sophia's gaze lingered on you, and you sensed her curiosity. "You two do spend a lot of time together—even after patrols," she observed."Oh? You noticed that? Stalking me, huh?" you teased, making Sophia blush. Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. "Well," she replied, her voice soft, "you just always catch my eye." And then, without warning, her body shifted closer. Her hands found their place on either side of your waist, and her lips met yours—a sweetness that tasted like possibility. You hated yourself for it, truly. Because here was a girl with good intentions, almost on top of you, and your mind couldn't help but wish it was Ellie.

Another two months slip through your fingers, ephemeral as morning mist. Life, once heavy with the ache of Ellie's absence, begins to lift itself up.  Sophia becomes a constant presence—a sunbeam that warms the corners of your heart as you allow yourself. Your growing relationship with Sophia blossoms, and you find comfort in her laughter, her touch, and the shared moments that weave your lives together. The unspoken question lingers: Are you allowed to call her your girlfriend? After all, you've shared more than just cake and conversations. Perhaps labels matter less than the way she looks at you, the way her fingers intertwine with yours.

And then there's Jesse—the steadfast friend who bridges the gap between patrols and pizza nights. His teasing about Sophia doesn't go unnoticed, but he's also the one who brings laughter into your home. Everything else remains unchanged—the memories, the unanswered letters, and the quiet longing. Life moves forward, and you find solace in the delicate balance of old and new. Patrol was as good as it could be, once you and Jesse found a way to connect your abilities, it didnt really feel like work anymore. 

"Yo, little one," Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the stables, interrupting your grooming session with Lacy. You turned to meet his gaze, immediately noticing his patrol clothes—fitting perfectly against his frame. "What the hell are you doing? We have the day off, remember?" you asked, your fingers still caressing Lacy's mane.

"Not anymore," Jesse replied, already opening the door to his horse's stable. "Dina apparently has the flu, and they both forgot to sign in at the station outside. Maria asked me to take their route for today and look for anything weird." He led his dark brown horse out of the stable, determination etched on his face.

"Good luck with that," you said, turning back to continue your work. But Jesse wasn't done. "Nuh huh, lover girl. You're joining me," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Pardon?" You looked at him, confusion knitting your brows. "Don't hit me with Spanish,"- ''Its french'' Jesse chuckled. "well whatever it was,I don't speak it. Come on now, get ready. We don't have all day." He saddled his horse efficiently, his movements practiced. "Why should I? You said yes, not me," you replied stubbornly, even though you gathered all the essentials needed to prepare Lacy. "Well, because I'm your partner in crime? Your work husband? Love of your patrol life?" Jesse grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. "And because I'll get bored alone. You don't have anything better to do anyway." - ''Rude?! maybe i had things planned?!'' You said, jokingly offended as you grab your stuff  ''You can meet sophia  and have all of those important 'converstations'' he made weird kissing noises ''later.'' He finished his sentance, making you laugh ''Well first of all I-'' You got interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You looked into the direction of the noise and saw the last person you wanted to see today. ''Sup, Ellie.'' Jesse said, leaning against the stable door. ''what can I do for you?'' He asked, eyes stuck on ellie. But her gaze lied elsewhere; On you.

You shivered under her gaze, your heart racing. As you looked into Ellie's eyes—the first time in forever—you sensed something there, something you couldn't quite put into words. Her burning gaze finally shifted from you to Jesse, arms crossed at her chest.

"Earlier, when me and Dina were at the station, I lost my journal," Ellie said, her voice close, intimate. "Can you look for it? Kinda really need it back." Her words echoed through the stable, and suddenly, the air felt too thin. Your knees wobbled, memories of Ellie cascading down the memory bridge, crashing into your stomach. You felt like you might throw up. "Sure, we will look for it. Anything else?" Jesse asked, glancing between the two of you. Ellie's eyes traveled back to you, and silent hope bloomed in your chest. Maybe this was the moment—maybe Ellie would finally have the guts to talk to you directly, to say she's sorry. But as her gaze wavered, you felt the familiar pang of disappointment. Once again, Ellie remained silent.You felt a strong hand on your shoulder, silently offering support. Jesse's familiar scent enveloped you. "Thought so," he said, ending the conversation. Ellie nodded and turned away, leaving the two of you alone. The barn was filled with silence until you spoke with a shaky voice. "Okay, let's just go." And so you did—you and Jesse left for patrol. But with every passing second, the memory of that confrontation lingered, and you realized how much you still craved her.

"Jesus, I hate this path," Jesse grumbled, pushing open the old, creaky door to the station. His face turned red from the effort, and you couldn't help but giggle. "Stop crying like a baby. Let's sign in and leave," you said, walking toward the desk on the opposite side of the room. As you approached, you noticed that a pen was missing. Without it, you obviously couldn't sign in.

"Jesse, there's no pen," you called out, looking at your friend. "Really? Look under the table or something. We'll find one," he replied. You followed his suggestion, getting down on your knees. Spiderwebs greeted you, along with the encroaching dusk. You pulled out your flashlight, shining it underneath the table for a better look. And there it was—an old, leather-covered book. You'd recognize that book spine anywhere, even in the grandest libraries.

You picked it up, wiping away the dust that clung to its material. The thickness of the journal reminded you of what you were holding—a door to Ellie Williams' secrets and mindful thoughts. "Found one!" Jesse's voice snapped you out of your reverie. You turned around, hiding the journal behind your back. Jesse joined you, writing your names on the slim paper of the checklist. ‘Partner in crimes ( Jesse and y/n)’

"Did you find anything? The book, I mean. It's not somewhere I looked," Jesse asked. You shook your head, slipping the journal into your bag without it being noticed. "Nope, didn't find it either."

''Every poem I ever wrote was about her. That smile of hers, those golden eyes—whenever she's too close to the sun, it's impossible for me to stay away. The day I left, my heart shattered into a million pieces. In my head, inside my perfect self-made world, she never left me. All my thoughts revolve around her—the memories etched into my mind. Her touch, so soft—I never wanted to let go. The scent of her clothes, stealing my breath away. The nights we spent dreaming together, the minutes I never want to regret. I never dared to imagine a lifetime without her. Yet here I am, writing these words with a hole in my chest. I'm bleeding out, the wind kissing my mind, refreshing memories of letting go. The silence surrounds me, a reminder to hold on.

I search the past for redemption, but it eludes me. The only thing left of me are broken pieces of her.”

The words were carefully etched onto the paper, making it hard for you to breathe. You hadn't intended to overstep her privacy—why had you taken that journal in the first place? You dont know.  But here you were, sitting with the book in hand, the only light in the living room emanating from the countless candles you'd lit.

The journal looked thicker than usual, and that's what caught your attention first. You knew that book well, even though you'd never seen what she put inside—except for her drawings of animals, Joel, Dina, and you. She'd never shown anyone what she wrote between the pages.

The reason you'd decided to open the book, against all your inner morals, was the fact that as you carefully pulled it out of your bag—treating it like fragile glass—multiple letters fell out. You noticed them right away. They were yours—carefully written letters she'd never dared to answer. The envelopes ripped open showed you she defenetly read them all. You dont know how to feel about that yet. Relieved that she cared enough to read them? Happy becasue she carried your letters with her, doesnt matter where shed go? Or mad, because she never replied? You know nothing. The only thing you're able to do now is bury yourself in the book, reading what Ellie never dared to say out loud.

''Ive been having a hard time adjusting, I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting. I didn't know if you'd care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that. Pulled the car off the road to the lookout, Could've followed my fears all the way down. And maybe I don't quite know what to say but I'm here in your doorway. I just wanted you to know that this is me trying'' 

The words cut deeper than a knife,

before you knew it, your eyes traveled to the next phrases, crossed out, you could barely read them:

"It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you.

Seeing you with Sophie burns me from inside out.

Why are you with her?

I know I don't own you, perhaps I never will,

so the anger inside of me when I see you with her

is something I'm not allowed to feel.

What I feel, I shouldn't show you.

So when you're around, I don't.

I let you walk away with her.

I know I don't have the right to feel it,

but it doesn't mean I don't."

The rest of the book was empty, besides some skteches of eyes that look dangerously like yours. You swallowed hard, not really sure of what you should feel. You re-read the sentences out loud, letting the bittersweet aftertaste of them making you feel alive. Your heart has been Ellies since the first time you both laughed together; yet you were so sure of the fact that she would never feel the same. Considering the words in the journal, maybe it wasnt one sided after all. Youre confused, being with Sophia was easy, comftable. But with ellie, it was different. better. You miss the butterflies in your stomach, miss her touch and her closeness. The rollercoster was everything you ever had, after all.

Two days of full selfishness carried its weight, and you continued to keep the journal. The guilt crept in, stealthy as shadows, finding you at night, when the world slept and your thoughts roamed free. Those written pages from Ellie, inked with longing and crossed-out confessions, haunted your mind. You tried your best to hide the pain, a fragile masquerade. Distancing yourself from Sophia and Jesse, you walked the tightrope of deception. It wasn't deliberate; it was survival. The what-could've-been danced like a ghost, whispering secrets in your ear. You wondered if Ellie's heart echoed the same unspoken words.

Sophia, her presence a comforting harbor, yet her touch felt like borrowed warmth. And Jesse, his eyes— The guilt gnawed at you, a relentless hunger. You held Sophia too close, fearing Ellie's phantom gaze. You looked into Jesse's eyes, and the lie about keeping the Journal tasted bitter on your tongue.  Ellie, elusive as a wisp of smoke. The barn encounter—the air thick with unspoken truths—left you breathless. You havent seen her since. You called in sick for the patrol meeting, a desperate escape from the inevitable. The fear of facing her again, of unraveling the fragile equilibrium, gripped your heart.

In the quiet of your room, the journal lay open. The crossed-out phrases, the sketches of eyes—they were your silent companions.

——————————————————-

"Okay, Miss being all sad and distant, I'm not having this anymore. Tell me what's going on right now or I'm killing you," Jesse declared, pressing past you as you opened the door. His urgency hung in the air, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

"Jesus, very aggressive today, aren't we?" you quipped, trailing after your friend into the living room. The door closed behind you, sealing you both in a cocoon of tension. You sank into the couch, and Jesse settled next to you, his gaze drilling holes into your soul."Therapy session. Now. What's going on?" His hands clasped together, a makeshift gavel. The room felt smaller, suffocating. You glanced at the coffee table, considering the whiskey bottle, but thought better of it. "Nothing? Do you want to drink anything... or?" Your voice played innocent, a fragile mask. Jesse wasn't fooled. "The jury says stop trying to change the subject." His tone held a mix of exasperation and concern."The jury...?" You grinned, despite the weight in your chest. "Yeah, me." Jesse's eyes softened, and you chuckled. "It's nothing, really.“

"You're completely distant," he said, his voice calm. "Even Sophia asked me if I have any idea what's going on." The truth hung between you like a fragile thread, ready to snap.

"I don't know... it's, urgh, weird." You fidgeted with the edge of a cushion. Jesse leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Tell me!" His insistence bordered on desperation

"Okay, but promise me not to hate me?" You gave him a side-eye, afraid of meeting his gaze head-on. "Could never hate you," he replied, and the words carried weight. So you spilled it—the secret you'd harbored, the journal you'd found.

Ellie's words, inked and crossed out, danced in your memory. You didn't reveal the exact phrasing, but you shared the confusion—the way her emotions bled through the pages. Jesse listened, his eyes wide, and you wondered if he saw the echoes of your own heartache.

In that quiet room, the truth hung heavy. You'd kept Ellie's words hidden, but now they spilled forth. Jesse's hand found yours, and you clung to it, hoping for absolution. "It's Ellie," you whispered. "It's always been Ellie."  His silence spoke volumes, eyes carrying the weight of unspoken understanding. He'd always sensed your feelings for Ellie, perhaps even before you did. It wasn't a secret to anyone but her—the way your heart gravitated toward her, like a moth drawn to a flame. “You guys need to talk.” Jesse said.

"I can't," you whispered, the words fragile on your tongue. The weight of unspoken truths pressed against your chest, threatening to spill forth."And why the fuck not? What do you have to lose?" Jesse's voice held a mix of frustration and concern. He saw through your defenses, stripped away the layers you'd carefully woven. Ellie—the enigma, the ache—loomed between you like a shadow."Afraid of losing her? I think you already archived that." His bluntness cut through your heart. You knew it too well—the missed chances, the crossed-out phrases, the silence that echoed louder than words. Jesse could see the pain in you and the bluntless paired with that slight tinge of what appeared to be anger slowly disappeared into thin air, much like the smoke of a lit cigarette blown into the night sky.

"Look" he begins, sighing while he considers the phrasing of this. He means no harm, but being too gentle could erase the importance of the situation "I want to help you, but you cannot hide yourself away. If you truly want this girl, you need to be able to put in the effort. Dina and Ellie arent dating either, dina told me herself that the two of them thought there was something but ended up with nothing. Be honest with yourself, but also with everyone else" You exhale deeply, relief floods your system despite the heavy heart still pounding against your chest.

Jesse is the kind of friend you can never let go. He's just that important.

Between the soft tunes of comfortingly familiar songs and a few shed tears, the two of you scheme together... Creating a, hopefully, foolproof plan on how to finally approach the elephant in the room. Ellie and you; it wasn't over, was it?

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #joel and ellie #the last of us #ellie the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #joel miller #joel tlou #ellie #writing #tlou fanfiction #ellie fanfic #ellie fic #ellie williams angst #elliexreader #ellie x fem reader #f reader #ellie x you #ellie x reader #jesse tlou #Jesse #jesse the last of us #dina and ellie #dina tlou #joel the last of us #thelastofus #tlou part 2 #tlou game

[marredmusings]

DENY PART TWO

ok i think i might make a series about my jj x reader x pope fic

also kind of dedicated to @starfxkr bc their blog gets me through the jj pope drought that is on tumblr (if you don't wanna be tagged i'll totally delete but i luv you even tho i don't know you

this isn't technically a part two but it's inspired by my previous fic deny

i'm hoping to maybe fully flesh out a whole mini story about them bc i love jj and pope so bad and i wanna kiss them both and have them kiss each other.

please send me prompts or if you have any ideas or you just wanna gush about jj and pope 💜

i'm a cancer, ok

you've always felt your emotions more deeply than others. you have a lot of feelings and it's not uncommon for you to start tearing up at random times throughout the day when you see something that elicits a strong feeling from you.

kie says it's because you're a cancer and while she's so true because you are the stereotypical emotional water sign, you're not sure how much of your mental state is because of your astrological sign or if you're genuinely a few screws loose in the head.

you remember hiccuping and sobbing into jjs shirt for the better part of half an hour- staining his sleeveless tee with your tears all because you saw a seagull missing a foot and he seemed to be running slower than his other seagull friends. your only relief from the obvious heartbreaking situation was jj softly murmuring comforting words in your ear, his strong arms around circled around your waist, your body snuggled onto his lap. the scene isn't uncommon for the pogues to see. the two of you have always been more affectionate than most.

all of this leads you to where you are now, curled up on your bed sobbing. soft sad music playing in the background making you sob even more. you put on a brave face with your friends but in the sanctuary of your own bed is where you can finally let your feelings free.

seeing pope and jj kiss hurt you more than you originally thought. your mind keeps replaying the scene of the two boys kiss, their lips moving together sensually, saliva being shared. you're sure that if you hadn't interrupted them, the kiss would lead to something more and involving less clothes.

hey google, play "that should be me" by justin bieber.

what if when they start dating they drop you? what if pope isn't comfortable with how touchy or affectionate you are with jj and he stops your cuddles or what if jj doesn't want you to hang out alone with pope because he knows you two kissed. what if they stop needing you because they have each other?

the thought makes a sob crawl up your throat and fat tears roll down your cheeks. you feel like your head is going to explode from how hard your crying. you need them like air, you felt like that even before you and pope kissed and before you realized you're in love with jj. you need them because they're your closest friends- they're the family you so desperately crave because your own doesn't care much for you and you're so scared if they start dating each other then they won't need you.

it's why you give out your love so freely, the feeling of being needed by people is something that is so deeply and inherently buried in your bones. when someone needs you and you can help them, it feels euphoric. a psychologist would probably have a field day with you because if you're not needed, what good are you?

----

"i'm really confused after our kiss" pope mumbles, nervous to look at jj in the eyes.

"good or bad confused" jj responds.

"is there such thing as good confusion?" pope asks, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. "i didn't think i was gay or bi or whatever and yeah i think some dudes are hot but like i've never wanted to kiss them but i wanted to kiss you!! and then we kissed and it was like... nice but different and i couldn't help but think about gracie and how she and i kissed and how good that also felt and then i felt guilty and-"

"pope, take a breath" the maybank boy utters, effectively cutting off popes rambles.

"i liked kissing you pope. i never let myself be attracted to dudes but it's you, ya know?" jj continues.

"but i also understand wanting to kiss grace. i... well i want to kiss her too." he finally confesses. he's never said his feelings for his grace out loud before.

pope gently stumbles over to where the maybank boy is perched on his bed, he leans in to grab jjs fidgeting hands, grasping them in what he hopes is a comforting hold.

he leans forward so he can give jj a small peck on the cheek. reassuring him that they're ok, that they'll make it through whatever turmoil they're feeling right now.

jj grabs popes face and brings him in for a deeper kiss, lips and tongues touching. it makes jjs stomach burn with desire. after several minutes or maybe hours of kissing, he's not sure, pope reaches up and pulls on jjs soft blond tresses, tugging on the boys hair a little to pull him away from popes lips. they both let out little gasps when they disconnect.

"have you heard of polyamory?" pope asks jj... a shit eating grin on his lips.

---

giggling and kicking my feet. i love them 💜

#jj maybank #obx #outer banks #pope heyward #jj maybank x reader #my headcanons #jj maybank x oc #pope x reader x jj #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward x oc #my fic

[empressofthelibrary]

Well, today was absolutely rotten, but food does make me feel less like exploding from the stress and disappointment. I'm never gonna not be mad that self-maintenance actually, y'know, works.

But I can be mad and grateful at the same time. I'm complicated like that.

#my district manager is coming in tomorrow to help with an event and the store is being left to me -- #a baby manager with three weeks of experience -- and the dumbass who was hired before me and SHOULD be better at this than i am and YET... #he's been doing SLIGHTLY better this past week than he has been but. jesus wept. he's barely competent. #and if he doesn't shape up i'm gonna ship him out myself #in a box. fold him up with the transfers. he's someone else's problem now. #but I'M the opening manager tomorrow so I'M probably the one who's gonna be working with the DM the most #and i am. so nervous. and maybe even kinda scared? #like. i don't wanna screw this up and let people down. but i know if i put too much pressure on myself i'm gonna collapse. #so i'm kinda wallking a tightrope here and that is also kinda stressing me out #because am i worrying the right amount of worry #which is BLATANTLY overthinking things and I Should Stop That and Go To Bed

[lunasfics]

Found Family

summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.

pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader

word count: 8.2k

preview

a/n: hello! IT'S FINALLY OUT WOOHOO, it's a bit long but i had a lot of fun writing it. certain characters may be a bit ooc so i do apologize as i'm still getting my footing on how to characterize certain people. let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated (just pls don't be mean lol)! i left a somewhat open-ish ending because i wanna make this into a series/universe, and will start taking requests for drabbles in this universe, depending on how this is received! - luna :)

reblogs are appreciated!

“I’m in. Robin, what’s your status?” Bruce spoke into the earpiece, swiftly moving through the shadows of the lab. It was a simple mission: get into the lab Lex Luthor had created under Gotham City, collect intel needed to take down said lab, and leave. Unfortunately, it’s never really that simple, is it? 

“I’m in, making my way through the west wing, cover is still intact,” Damian muttered back. 

“Good. Nightwing?” 

“Just entered the center lab, heading down to the bottom level now, haven't been spotted,” Dick said, making his way down the steps, careful to remain silent. 

“Good. Remember the objective. In and Out.” Bruce muttered as he continued, searching for the locked file cabinet he was looking for. 

“Files located. Ready for extraction” Damian said quietly through the intercom. 

“I’ve made it to the bottom level. Requesting immediate backup, there's something here you guys need to see” Dick’s voice echoed through the earpiece, “They’ve made another clone.” 

Bruce stopped what he was doing, silently making his way down the hall towards the staircase Dick took around a half hour before, “I'm on my way. Damian?”

“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.” 

Upon arriving at the lower level, Dick bypasses security to let them in, making sure to reactivate the lock behind them, “Look.”

He gestured to the incubation tube not far from them, inside of it stood a young woman, who looked no older than 20, wearing a black skin-tight suit, a familiar “S” symbol adorning her chest, only it was the center of another symbol, the bat symbol, with bat ears at the top and bat wings on either side of it, a dark burgundy color with gold lining along the edges. The plaque below the tube read: 

Attempt 1: G6B24 

Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)

Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown) 

Status: Failed - Shows excessive signs of emotional intelligence (unfit for purpose), Subject is not invulnerable, Lacks thermal vision

‘Emotional Intelligence’ you must have shown hesitation, a moral compass. 

“Father… what are we going to do?” Damian asked, he was at a loss, part of him felt slightly threatened, if you were taken in, he would no longer be the only child related to Bruce by DNA, and you were older, stronger— perhaps you would take his place, the place he’d finally felt he truly belonged; however he remained silent, his past self likely would have attempted to argue against your rescue, but he’d grown, he knew deep down you deserved a chance at this life just as much as he did. 

Bruce looked up at your unconscious figure, at a loss for words, you were his daughter, intentional or not, there was a part of him in you, he only hoped that part wouldn't screw you over for life. As surprised as he was, he had an obligation to you the same way he did with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Duke, Damian, and every other vigilante he had taken under his wing.

His Batman instincts kicked in very quickly though, immediately refocusing himself, reading through the files, in an attempt to prepare himself for any possible scenario, he turned to Dick. 

“Find all the DNA samples they have belonging to both me and Superman, we’re taking them,” he said, making sure to not hyper-focus on the thoughts flooding his mind. 

“We’re not just leaving her here, are we? The plaque says ‘failed’. Who knows what could happen to her?” Dick said, he was frustrated.

Conner had gotten a chance to build a life for himself. You deserved one too, the mere thought of Bruce wanting to leave you there angered him. 

“She’s coming with us. Damian, watch the door, Dick, find the samples," Bruce said gruffly, moving to the tube, bypassing the database to open it, without setting off any system safeguards. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his shard of kryptonite, just in case it was needed to neutralize you. 

The tube opened slowly, a swoosh sound filling the air as the cold fog escaped the tube, spilling into the air, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, your eyes focusing on him.

You flew at him, full speed, pushing him against the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him, your eyes boring into his, glowing red, just as you were about to terminate him with your heat vision, he uttered the safe word he had seen in your file. 

“Blue Pineapple” he grunted out, the red in your eyes fading away instantly, as you stared at him with wide eyes. You backed away slowly, lowering yourself to the floor. Your eyes fixed on him once again.

You recognized him from your programming, the man whose combat skills were engraved into your mind.

“Batman?” 

Dick and Damian rushed over, making sure Bruce was okay. He was fine.

Dick turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come with me. We need to get you out of here, you aren’t safe here.” 

You stared at him, your eyes narrowing, “Why should I trust you?” 

Dick sighed, Those damn Wayne genetics, he kept his hand extended to you, “Because we’re helping you escape, if you come with us, you can meet Superman, be a hero just like him and Batman, you could actually see the world” he promised. 

"I know what the world looks like." you stated bluntly.

He sighed, his hand not wavering, "But have you ever experienced it? Let us show you what that's like. You can have a life."

You thought for a moment, before letting out a small grunt, nodding at him and taking his hand, allowing them to lead you out of the lab grounds seemingly undetected. 

When you stepped out, you stopped, eyes completely transfixed on the brilliant night sky. Blends of blues and purples and grays danced together to make the beautiful endless abyss above you. You knew every color there was. You knew everything, but at the same time you really didn't. You stared up at the stars, you knew how they came to be, you knew every scientific explanation there was yet seeing them… it made you feel a way you couldn’t explain.

They led you to the batmobile, situating you in the back seat with Damian, starting the drive to the Batcave. Bruce dialed Clark’s number into the keypad, it rang twice before he picked up. 

“Hello?” 

“Meet me in the Batcave. It’s urgent. Bring Conner.”

“What’s going o-”

He hung up. 

Dick covered his mouth to hide his snicker, “So, Bruce, you and Clark have an official love child now, right? What will Lois think?” he feigned concern, placing the back of his hand over his forehead, committing to the drama, “Oh, how scandalous, I mean really, the shame! I can already see the headlines ‘Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne turned common whore after breaking up happy metropolis family’” 

Damian covered his laugh with a cough.

You looked at the three of them, utterly confused, still processing what was going on. 

Bruce huffed, shooting them both a glare, “Dick, be mature.” 

Dick smiled, “I can't help myself, just wait til Jason finds out.” He smiled in excitement, as they pulled into the side entrance of the Batcave. 

Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.

Clark sat in silence in the Batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.

You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a rather interesting combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.

He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” 

“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry. 

Conner was the first to speak, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?” 

You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kriptonian.” 

He nodded slowly, “I’m a clone too, and Clark took me in— well, he took me in eventually— that’s besides the point. He showed me how to become my own person, we can help you do that too.”

You looked at him, eyes softening ever so slightly, but you kept your guard up like your Batman programming taught you to. “I was made to be a killer, if I don’t do what I was made to do, what am I worth?” you said quietly, voice unwavering.

Damian watched you, your words striking him in a way he hadn't expected them to, he understood what you were saying all too well. 

Bruce decided to speak up next, “You were created, it’s not your fault what their intentions were when they did so. What you become from here on out is your choice.” 

You stayed silent, eyes darting around the room—What is this feeling? Vulnerability? You knew it by definition, like you did most other feelings, but feeling them… it was different. 

Dick noted the way you seemed overwhelmed, he approached you slowly, pulling up two chairs, motioning for you to sit, you chose to remain standing until he sat down first. 

“You know, we trust you, we want to figure out a way for you to become the best you can be. On your terms” he said, offering you a small smile. 

You looked around, the others nodded in agreement, “I was made to be only the best parts of you” you said, your gaze focusing on Clark and Bruce, they both put their best qualities forward to help others, how could you use those same qualities to destroy that?

“I… don’t want to be a killer. They said I was too… human. I thought I’d failed them.” 

Damian decided to step forward, “You didn’t fail anyone, you are meant for greater things. You haven't killed anyone, you can choose your path. If the path you choose is the Robin mantle... I am willing to work with that.” 

At this, the other men in the room turned to look at him, Clark and Conner were slack-jawed, this was the same kid who fought Tim tooth and nail over this mantle. The same mantle he was just… willing to give you? 

Meanwhile Dick had a proud smile on his face, you thought you saw a small tear in his eye.

Bruce’s face seemed unreadable, however, you took notice of the way the corners of his lips turned up for a split second. before reverting back to their natural state. 

You weren’t sure what to say, again, you knew what this mantle was, by definition. The reality was you had no sense of what it meant, the weight it carried. And you knew that.

“Thank you, but I feel like that title isn’t mine to take. I think I need to… become something that's true to who I am, whatever that may be.”  

Bruce looked at you, the corner of his lip barely twitching up into a smile, a smile so subtle that only someone of your… background would notice, an attempt of his towards getting you more comfortable, “We should start with a name.” 

You looked at Conner, he gave you an encouraging smile. 

“Like I chose Conner, so now I’m Conner Kent,” he said with a small shrug, “You can choose whatever you want.” 

“I see,” you thought for a moment, “I like Y/n.” 

Clark smiled, standing up and clapping his hands together, “Great! Y/n Kent, has a nice ring to it.” 

“Wayne.” 

He turned towards Bruce, eyes narrowing slightly, “Kent.”

“Wayne.”

This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”

The three men stared at each other, arms crossed mirroring each-other’s glares. 

Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”

“No.” came their simultaneous response. 

Dick frowned, slumping in the seat next to yours, “Jeez.” 

Damian spoke next, “I suppose Al Ghul is off the table…” 

Dick snorted, breaking out into a fit of laughter, you grinned softly at the sounds of his laughter, it reminded you of a windshield wiper. 

Conner sighed, “Fine, what about Wayne-Kent?”

Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”

Clark nodded, the smile returning to his face as he turned to you, “Y/n Wayne-Kent”

You nodded, “I like it.” 

Dick could help but laugh from beside you, “It's like I'm watching reality tv. Love me some baby mama drama.”

Clark opened his mouth to speak and closed it, before sighing and looking at Bruce, who just pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Conner chuckled at the sight, turning to Damian, who’s lip quirked up in amusement. 

Bruce looked up, his attention directed towards you, “Y/n, you can stay here for the night, I’ve asked Alfred to set up a room for you. Clark, Conner, come by tomorrow with Lois and Jon, I’ve called the others to come by as well, we’ll get everything situated tomorrow. For now, get some rest.” 

Everyone nodded, Clark and Conner heading to the exit of the cave, Damian, Dick and Bruce leading you to the room that was prepared for you. 

Dick brought you a sweater and some sweatpants to change into, closing the door with a soft, “Goodnight, kiddo.” 

You changed in silence, slowly getting under the covers and drifting off to sleep, marking the start of your new life. Tomorrow would be an interesting day. 

You woke up the next morning, to a soft knock on the door, your super hearing picking it up better than you would have liked. You opened the door, revealing an older man you hadn’t seen before. He smiled softly, giving you an instantaneous sense of comfort you couldn’t explain. 

“Hello Miss Y/n. My name is Alfred, I am the butler,” he greeted you, handing you a folded set of clothes, “Master Kent chose these for you, however if they are not to your liking, do let me know.” 

“They’re fine…Thank you.”

He smiled warmly, the kind old man giving you a nod, “Once you've changed, do come down, I’ve prepared breakfast. The other members of the family will arrive soon to meet you.” 

You gave him a short nod, he smiled again, your demeanor reminding him of the young Bruce he’d looked after all those years ago. He shut your door softly before retreating down the staircase, leaving you in your room to change. 

You picked up the small note that rested at the top of the pile, reading it over. 

Comfortable, Practical, and cool. Hope you like it. - Conner

You looked down at the neatly folded clothes, unfolding a black long sleeve turtleneck shirt, the material was thick but breathable, you slipped it on with ease, the foreign material soft against your skin, you appreciated that it didn’t suffocate you. 

You reached for the pants next, dark gray cargo pants, these were thicker, and the had an overwhelming amount of pockets. You slipped them on before slipping on the boots that were at the bottom of the stack and exiting the room, going down the staircase. 

Upon entering the dining room, you were met with Bruce sitting at the head of the table, reading the paper calmly eating his pancakes, to his right sat Dick chatting excitedly to the boy next to him, who smiled at him as he listened, he was a slender boy with black hair who looked a bit younger than Dick. Then there was Alred, calmly enjoying his breakfast. Finally there was Damian on the other side of Bruce, leaving an empty seat between Damian and Alred. You sat down, the pale boy noticing you first. 

Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.” 

“Hello.” You sat up awkwardly. One thing you never learned was how to navigate social interactions.

He studied you for a moment, offering you a small smile, “I’m Tim.” 

You gave a nod, returning his smile with a smaller one of your own. 

“She knows, by the way.” Dick chimed in.

His eyes widened, was that why you were there? 

“How?” 

All eyes are on you. You opened your mouth to speak but Damian spoke first. 

“She’s a clone. Father will explain everything when everyone else arrives so as to not waste time, until then, hold on to your childish curiosity. I’d like to enjoy my breakfast.” 

Dick nodded, “She was literally made for this shit.”

“Watch your language Master Dick, it is deplorable to speak in such a way at the table, much less in the presence of a lady.” 

Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.” 

Bruce simply gave a nod. 

Tim slumped back in his seat, wanting to ask you questions about your abilities, your earliest memories, who were you a clone of, how your programming worked, the boy was itching to know it all. 

Breakfast passed by relatively quickly after that, you weren’t bombarded with questions, much to your relief. Alfred kindly asked you how you slept to which you replied that you slept well. The sound of casual conversation and glassware scraping together filling the room. You enjoyed observing the atmosphere.

Clark and Conner were the first to arrive at the manor, greeting you happily, with them was a woman and a younger boy, who immediately went to sit by Damian. 

Clark brought them over to you, the woman smiled warmly at you. It made you feel safe. 

She held your hand in hers, “My name is Lois,” her voice was kind, genuine. You noted how she carried herself. Strong, secure, honest. 

Clark was quick to bring Jon over, excited to introduce him, “This is my son, Jon.”

“Hi!”  he beamed at you, you smiled, he was cute. Cheerful as he smiled brightly at you. 

“Hello, my name is Y/n.” you greeted the two, who smiled at you.

Conner was the next to approach, “Did you like the clothes? I picked them out cause it was all I used to wear, but who knows, you may want something more… fashionable.”

You smiled softly, “They're nice, thank you.”

“On that note actually,” Clark said, “I was thinking we can take you shopping later, Bruce and I can pay.” 

Bruce deadpanned, “That’s a joke, right?” 

He smiled, “Of course, you’re paying for everything.”

“Sounds about right.” 

Chatter filled the room not long after, Jon and Damian catching up on the couch while Conner and Tim started a conversation of their own. 

The next people to arrive were three young women, blonde, brunette, and red hair. They had arrived together.

The blonde spoke first, “Why'd you call us here Bruce? We had planned for brunch.” She bitterly narrowed her eyes at him, the brunette behind her giving a short nod of agreement.

Bruce sighed, “We’re waiting on Jason. He’s late.” 

“As always.” The redhead said with a sigh, though you could see she wasn't actually upset.  

The blonde girl turned to you first smiling, “I’m Stephanie, but call me Steph. I’m assuming you’ll be joining our vigilante posse.” She seemed funny, and kind, like she truly cared for those around her. 

“Somewhat, I don’t really know. I’m Y/n.” You said bluntly.

“Pretty name.” She smiled, gesturing to the red haired woman behind her, “This is Barbara, but she's really just Babs.” She then gestured to the brunette, “That’s Cass. She’s lovely.” 

You looked at them and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Barbara smiled warmly at you, “You too, I’m so glad there’ll be another girl around, we can always use more company.” She smiled at you so kindly, despite having only just met you. Her voice was sweet, like honey. 

Cass smiled softly at you, “Come to brunch with us later. Or, lunch, now since Jason is holding us up.” 

You nodded your lip quirking up into a small smile, “I’d enjoy that.” 

Truthfully, you didn't know what the fuck brunch was. But she said lunch and that you knew. You'd find out about brunch later.

Then, as if on cue, the man in question arrived, walking through the door, slipping off his brown jacket and tossing it on the couch. He was tall, with a stocky frame, jet black hair with a white streak on the front. 

“This better be good.” 

Tim mumbled, “Finally” 

“Miss me Timmy?” 

“Quite the contrary.”

The one called Jason laughed before giving him a small nudge, to which Tim swatted his hand away. 

His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce. 

“Dude, seriously? Another one? You have a problem man. You’d think you would’ve stopped after me.” 

Bruce stood up, “Jason, sit down. Now that you’re all here I wanted to introduce you to Y/n. She’s a clone, made from both mine, and Clark’s DNA.” 

“Holy shit, man.” 

“Jason, will you shut up?” 

“Never.” 

“As I was saying, she’ll be here in the manor for the time being, I’ll be training her and assessing her combat technique.” 

“Hold on,” Clark interjected, “She should come with us, she needs to get the hang of her powers.” 

“Clark, I have a state of the art training area in the cave.” 

“So? We’re supers, all we need is an open field.” 

“We need to assess her combat skills, and also assess the extent of her powers. She isn’t invulnerable. We need to prioritize getting to the bottom of that.” 

Clark huffed but nodded, understanding the full extent of your abilities was vital in actually training you. 

“It’s like I’m watching a custody battle.” muttered Steph, Barbara laughing quietly beside her. 

“Wait- So Y/n is basically if you and Clark had a baby?” Tim gawked at them, his eyes shifting from Bruce to Clark, to you. When his eyes landed on you, he fired questions like he was on a time limit. 

“How do Bruce’s genetics affect your abilities? Are you immune to kryptonite and invulnerable? How does your thermal vision work? Enhanced strength? Can you fly? Can you fly as fast as Superman? Do you have combat training? How do y-” 

Conner smacked a hand over his mouth, leading him back to his seat, “Lets try not to overwhelm her with the questions.” He chuckled. 

Tim nodded, looking up at you, “Sorry, Y/n.” 

“That’s okay. To answer your questions, his genetics don’t necessarily have a huge impact on any of my abilities, I was created with every available video of Batman fighting embedded into my mind, and the combat skills were engraved in my memory, I should be able to replicate his fighting style to a tee. I’m not invulnerable, but in theory, the stealth I was programmed with allows me to stay agile enough that I shouldn’t often get hurt. I don't have thermal vision, but I do have laser vision, enhanced strength, and flight, although I haven’t tested how fast I actually can fly. And like I said, my combat training is essentially the combat footage uploaded into my mind.” 

Tim had nodded, eyes trained on yours in complete interest as you answered each question, occasionally jotting something down on the notes app of his phone. 

Lois narrowed her eyes slightly at both Bruce and Clark, “I do hope you’re factoring in giving her the opportunity to build an actual social life. Maybe get her enrolled in school.” 

“She has doctorate-level information on several different topics stored into her mind, as well as fluency in 8 languages. I think she’ll be fine, Lois,” Bruce replied. 

She rolled her eyes, “Okay, so school’s not necessary, what about building a social life for herself? That’s important.” 

“There’s Young Justice,” Conner said, “I figured she’d join.” 

Tim nodded in agreement, “I can help her get situated.” 

“Where will I stay?” you asked, you didn’t particularly enjoy how they were all discussing you as if you weren't there, but there honestly wasn’t much you could do. 

“You can stay at the manor, or you can stay with the team, but it'd be best if you lived here in the Manor.” Bruce replied.

“Why isn’t Metropolis an option?” Clark muttered. 

“Because it’s more practical to have her here in Gotham, living with Tim will make it easier to adjust to the team.” 

“I want time with her, Bruce.” 

“You’ll get it. We’ll have her assessed, then three times a week she’ll train and get a hold of her powers with you.” 

Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer. 

Lois spoke again, turning to you, “Y/n, how does that sound to you?” 

You blinked. “It sounds fine. My super hearing allows me to hear every conversation proficiently.”

She chuckled softly, “It’s a figure of speech sweetheart, I meant if you’re okay with everything that was said, you’ve been a bit quiet.”

You felt your face grow hot, “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay with it.”

Clark gave you a fond smile. 

Bruce looked at you and smiled softly, a barely noticeable one, but a smile nonetheless. 

The bulk of the conversation was over. The people in the room falling into easy conversation with one another, you look around, not sure what to do. That is until Jason approaches you, a kind smile on his face. 

“Hey Y/n, I’m Jason, I’ll be honest, you probably won't see me too often cause I can barely stand being around Bruce, but… if he’s ever a dick, call me and I’ll either punch him for you and take you somewhere he’s not.” he grinned, “Or both.” 

You laughed softly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He nodded, “I’ll be raiding the kitchen, but if anyone asks, I left.” He shoots you a grin before slipping away. 

It’s not long after that when Jon approaches you, Damian by his side, he shoots you a toothy grin, “So, you’re like, my sister now, right?” 

You’re not sure how to respond, but you feel a puddle of warmth pooling in your heart, it’s nice. You smile at him softly, “I suppose so.” 

He grins, “And that would also make you Damian’s sister. right?”

“I suppose so.” 

“See Damian, we’re blood brothers by extension.” 

“Jon, that is the most imbecilic logic I’ve ever encountered. Just because Y/n is both my blood and yours doesn’t mean–” 

“Blood brothers!” He had shouted cheerfully, before walking away and over to Lois to inform her of the good news. 

Damian sighed, though you took notice of the soft smile that flashed across his face, you concluded that he cared for him. 

A lot of people in this family– Bruce’s family specifically, tend to hide affection, despite the fact that it is apparent to you that they feel it. You decide not to focus on it, people are complicated. 

You chat a bit with various people in the room, Lois telling you that you’re always welcome to visit whenever you’d like, Barbara talking to you about how her work as Oracle, Steph telling you all about the other vigilantes you’ll probably end up crossing paths with. Tim and Conner sat by you, telling you all about the team and the people you’ll meet once all your training is done. 

Slowly, people start to leave, you saw Jason slip out the front door first, sending you a wink. Dick left not long after, needing to return to his responsibilities in Bludhaven, making sure to tell you you’re always welcome to visit him over there. Then Clark left with Lois, Jon, and Conner, leaving the residents of the manor plus, Cass, Steph and Barbara.

Damian and Tim had retreated to their rooms, while Alfred busied himself with household chores, Bruce stood up, approaching you before saying, “Did you still want to go shopping? You’ll need training clothes.” 

You nodded, “Yes, please.” 

Steph perked up, rushing towards the two of you, “Oh, we have to come.” 

“Steph, you go shopping every week. With my card.”

Barbara chimed in, “It’s not about that Bruce, you have a terrible fashion sense. We can’t let you impose that onto Y/n.”

Cass nodded in agreement. 

“We’re just buying training clothes.” 

“She can’t wear training clothes in her daily life,” Steph rolled her eyes, “She needs a wardrobe.” 

You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.” 

“See?”

Bruce sighed but nodded, “Let's go then.”

Steph cheered while Barbara and Cass high-fived behind her, it was an amusing site. 

When you arrived at the mall, Steph immediately linked arms with you, dragging you around to her favorite stores, paying no mind to your super strength potentially being able to accidentally break her arm. It caught you off guard, not only the physical display of affection, but the trust.

Again, you felt that soft puddle of warmth pool in your chest. You could get used to that. 

You had gotten to know Barbara and Cass fairly well during the trip as well, Barbara was sweet, she and Steph made you laugh more than you thought you could. Cass and you got along well too, she picked out the clothes you liked the most, always nodding in approval when you would try anything on, a soft smile on her face. The three of them opened their group up to you so quickly, it had surprised you, you felt that with their company you were better able to navigate finding yourself. 

The four of you hadn’t paid much mind to Bruce trailing behind you as you went from store to store, not that he minded. He held a fond smile as he observed the four of you giggling, talking, and having a good time.

He knew his focus on training was important, but he also knew Lois was right (not that he’d admit that to anyone), you needed a social life too. And he knew your heightened emotional intelligence would surely allow you to obtain that, you just needed to blossom, and allow yourself to break free of the restraints you put on yourself. 

He’d lost count of how many times he had swiped his card that day, at some point he had decided to just start waiting by the front, once you guys were ready, he’d walk over, swipe his card, and you guys would move on to the next shop. He wouldn't say this to anyone, but he enjoyed doing things like this, taking care of the people he cares about. 

The last store you had gone to was WayneTech, it was Bruce’s idea. You needed a phone in order to keep everyone’s contacts. So they brought you there where you got the latest model of their cell phone line, it was sleek and thin. You picked out a case and you got a screen protector. Bruce had told you that once you got to the Batcave he’d input league contacts, safety features, as well as league-level security settings. 

By the end of the trip it was early in the evening, Bruce had his arms absolutely filled with shopping bags, and what he couldn’t carry was carried by you and Steph. The five of you stepped out into the parking lot, the sun setting, casting a deep orange hue on the parking lot. You took in the image in front of you, you didn’t know suns could set so beautifully.

The ride home was nice, the car was filled with the soft chatter of the four of you, Bruce didn’t feel the need to listen in. The soft music playing on the stereo as a background was a nice addition to the atmosphere. 

When you’d arrived at the manor, the girls had bid you goodbye, but not before making sure they had your number to add you to their group chat. You were warned by Steph that Cass’s meme game could not be beat. You were slightly confused but nodded, a happy smile on your face. They each gave you a hug before getting in their cars and heading off. 

The walk into the manor was silent, but not awkward, mainly the two of you taking armfuls of bags up to your room.

As he shut the door, Bruce turned to you, “It’s not too late, if you want, we could start out on some training.” 

You nodded, going into your room to change, “I’ll be down there in a bit.” 

He nodded, walking away to change as well. 

You entered the Batcave shortly after, comfortable in your black sweatpants, and a black long sleeve athletic shirt. Now, having a better opportunity to take it all in, it was massive. You looked to your left to see Damian sparring with Tim in one of the further training areas. You walked over to Bruce, he gave you a small smile, leading you to the second training area by Tim and Damian, who by now had stopped sparring, in favor of observing your skill. 

“You can replicate my fighting style to a tee, right?”

You nodded.

“Let’s see it.” 

You charged first, making sure to suppress your strength, your movements swift and calculated, landing a fast right kick to his abdomen. He sidestepped, landing a swift punch to your side. You kept attempting attacks on eachother, each one dodging the other flawlessly.

Tim and Damian watched in awe as the two of you gracefully moved, as if you were dancing. This went on for several minutes, until you attempted a fast left kick to his side, which he caught, using as leverage to flip you over on your back.

Your limbs ached, you looked up at him, “How did you do that?”

He held a hand out to help you up, “I’m not as fast with my left kicks as I am with my right ones. My weaknesses are your weaknesses.”

You nodded. Made sense. 

“You have good technique, and you replicate my fighting perfectly, but that’s all it is. A replication. You need to make it your own. Adapt it in accordance with your abilities, you can’t do that now because Clark hasn’t trained you, but in time you will.” 

You nodded, your chest swelling with pride at his compliment, you knew after your training with Clark you would be able to better adjust your fighting style.

Damian walked over to you, “Y/n. I’d like to spar, you’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.” 

You nodded, it would be good to spar with someone with a different fighting style. Tim sat down to the side, perfectly content with just observing for now, like earlier, he occasionally jotted down some notes on his phone. You decided you didn’t mind it. It was endearing. 

This time, Damian charged first, landing a swift right kick to your ribs, you turned and landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him back, before he flipped and caught himself, running towards you again. His smaller frame provided him with an advantage as he jumped onto your shoulders, before he could land his blow, you flipped your body, sending him to the floor, landing on his back with a thud. You crouched over him, extending your hand.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” he took your hand, getting up to his feet, you gave him a soft smile, which he returned, giving you a nod of approval. He, like Bruce, didn’t often use his words, but you were able to discern their intentions just fine. 

Bruce then led you to a machine he had in the cave, where it analyzed your genetics in comparison to Clark’s, he had determined you were missing the genetic composition that happened to be the main source of invulnerability, therefore the reason you were the way you were. You are unfortunately still weak when exposed to kryptonite. 

You were tired by the end of the night. You felt you had bonded with Damian, he had asked you to spar with him another time, to which you agreed.

The next day, Bruce had sent you over to Smallville, where Clark had decided on training you, ‘A good old fashioned open field’ were his exact words.

He made sure to send you wearing your original suit, not knowing how fast you would be flying, just in case, only you didn’t like it, so you opted to wear some sweats over the suit. 

And there you were, floating about 300 feet in the air with him, as he explained the basics of flying. 

“You want to create your own leverage, using your flight, you should be able to do this.” He bent one leg, tilting to the right as he effortlessly glided in that direction, he repeated the action only now going in the opposite direction. 

You nodded, imitating his movements, gliding from side to side before stopping and looking at him. He smiled brightly at you, “You’re doing great, kid. There was never a point where you didn’t have powers, so this should be easy. Now, we’ll test your speed.” 

You nodded, “How are we doing that?”

He pulled out a stopwatch, “I’m going to wait here while you fly to Gotham and back. You know the route?” 

You nodded. 

“Okay… and…. Go!”

You immediately shot forward, a slightly bumpy start but your body adapted immediately, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and a smile spread across your face as you made a U-turn around Gotham, making it back to Clark in seconds. 

“2.6 seconds. That’s good.” He smiled at you. 

You went on like that for the next few hours, him giving you encouraging words of advice, and you gained better control over your abilities, him providing you with tips he learned over the years. For that last hour, Jon and Conner joined the two of you, the four of you eventually just playing air tag until Martha and Lois called you in for dinner. 

They insisted you stay for dinner, and you had no mind to refuse, spending time with them was nice. Jon insisted he sat next to you at dinner, excitedly talking your ear off about whatever he’d gotten to that day, and sharing his favorite stories about Damian with you. He acts like he doesn't like people, but he’s got a soft spot for a lot of us, were his exact words. You honestly completely agreed, you smiled at him as he continued talking. 

That day you’d gotten to know Martha and Jonanthan Kent, who insisted you called them Ma and Pa. They instantly coddled you as if they’d known you since birth, though, in a way, that is technically the case. 

They didn't let you leave empty handed, sending you off with tupper-ware filled with leftovers, cookies and pie. You thanked them for their hospitality and headed back to the manor. 

The next few months were mainly doing morning and evening training with Bruce, occasionally Dick would stop by to train with you, always telling you he was proud of your improvement, which never failed to make you glow just a little brighter with pride. He’d begun a tradition where he would treat you to a burger after training, or whatever it was you were craving. He said that it was his goal to get you to try every fast food joint in Gotham, deciding that it was just an essential part of living there. You quickly decided you hated fast food, but never said anything because that wasn’t at all what mattered to you, what mattered to you was the bond you were creating with your older brother. 

Your relationship with Bruce wasn’t perfect. There were times you saw how focused he was on his mission, neglecting the feelings of those around him, he could be an asshole. And with you still navigating your emotions, you’d get angry and yell, and so would he. If you saw him brushing off Damian, or Tim, one look at the crestfallen expressions on their faces was enough to get you angry. You shouldn’t have been surprised, truthfully, you weren’t. You were too similar. You were just fortunate enough to be surrounded by people early on who could convince you to let them in. 

Regardless of the imperfections between you and Bruce, you knew he cared. He always showed it with the small smile he’d give you as he held up two tickets to the movie you had wanted to see. Or in the way he’d lure everyone into the living room with snacks for a movie night. Or how he’d try his best to always express to you that you were doing well. That you were enough, and that you deserved to be there. 

You’d grown closer with Tim, too, always willing to help him with his assignments (not that he often needed it, but on the rare occasions his sleep deprived self couldn’t wrap his head around a problem). You’d often go to him when you needed help figuring something out on your phone, to which he would offer a simple solution you hadn’t seen before.

Tim was kind, he showed he cared for you by fixing things, when you cracked your screen protector by accidentally tapping it too hard, he made you a new one that could withstand the force of a bullet. He learned to confide in you over time, telling you about Bernard, expressing his worries to you about whether or not he’s good enough. You’d always tell him he was more than good enough. 

Damian had taken to calling you ‘sister’, often challenging and teasing you when he could, you’d developed a relationship where he’d go to you for company. You’d sit in the garden and take in the life around you, while he sat a few feet away and drew it.

Once, he drew you while you weren’t looking, when he finished, he handed it to you without a word and walked away. In the bottom right corner you read ‘Y/n Wayne-Kent’ in neat handwriting, just below that, ‘sister’. That was the first time he’d used that word for you. Your heart swelled. 

You continued seeing Steph, Barbara, and Cass, regularly having lunch with them and talking with them on the phone. Barbara, or as you now called her, Babs, was always there to guide you when you needed it, she’d often send you small gifts from time to time, like jewelry that reminded her of you.

Cass and you would often find the most peaceful company in each other. She would listen to you talk about all the things you'd been learning, telling you about her own experience adjusting to a new life.

Steph and you bonded over poorly written hallmark movies, she always giggled madly when you would point out plot inconsistencies, wearing the most confused expression she had ever seen on a person, you didn’t understand why at first, you would just state facts, but you always enjoyed the time with her. She always says you guys should start a podcast, and you always agree. You hope she never asks you what a podcast is... because you genuinely didn't know.

True to his word, you didn’t see Jason often, but there were a few instances  where you felt particularly suffocated by Bruce’s training that you took him up on his offer to take you somewhere he wasn’t. Those moments were... nice. Every time, he would bring food, and take you to his apartment, where you talked about books and he introduced you to some of his favorite movies. You didn’t know why he and Bruce didn’t get along, but you chose not to pry.

Alfred had taken a liking to you instantly, he enjoyed giving you etiquette lessons, and would bake all kinds of scones and cookies for you to try. His humor was at times very dry and sarcastic, which never failed to make you laugh. He taught you how to bake once, finding you were exceptionally good at it, ‘Miss Y/n, I think we’ve found your natural talent’. You hadn’t expected to be good at it, but Alfred said you were phenomenal. 

You’d also train with Clark 3 times a week, getting even closer with the Kents, integrating yourself in both families. It was interesting being part of two very different families. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Clark had shown you a lot about your powers, but it was never just training. It had become a necessity for the two of you to fly to some famous landmark and have lunch together, before flying back to Smallville for more training.

Clark was constantly trying his best for you, he still had his regrets from his initial relationship with Conner, and although he was forgiven and their relationship was rebuilt, he knew he lost time. And he absolutely refused to repeat that and hurt someone else who didn’t deserve it. 

You always stayed for dinner, you found that you could never say no to Jon, the one time you tried was awful, you felt so bad that you went back the next day and took him shopping. With Bruce's card, duh.

Jon was stuck to you like glue whenever you were over. He always insisted on sitting by you and talking to you about whatever he’d been up to. He flew around with you a lot, you guys would play games that he taught you how to play. Your favorite moments were when he and Damian would allow you in to watch them play video games because ‘How do you not know how to play video games? That’s just wrong. We’ll teach you.’

Conner had spent more and more time with you as well, telling you about a lot of social cues, the importance of boundaries, etc. He was determined to help you adjust in every way he could, he shared his experiences with you when he first started working in teams. You learned a lot from him, he was very affectionate with you, but in that awkward-older-brother way. He’d give you a soft pat on the back and a smile, he knew you’d do just fine. 

Lois became your role model, you truly admired her. She was strong, outspoken, confident. She helped you not be afraid of forming your own opinions and voicing them. One time she saw you yell at Bruce over something he’d done, and all she could do was smile proudly.

These people whose lives you just appeared in one day, very quickly became your family. Every day you were reminded of how lucky you were to have come to care for them as much as you do. Bonding with them was nice, and you very quickly understood the appeal of having family.

These are people who care for you unconditionally, simply because they want to. Because every moment that they spend with you, they choose to.

And just like that, you were ready to meet the team. You had learned to combine your combat skills with your powers, if you need to, you can fight in mid air. You’d learned to incorporate your abilities into your technique to enhance your own personal style. And it felt amazing.

You knew every possible way to deliver an effective, non-lethal blow.  Of course, you needed a suit. Bruce offered to enhance the one you had worn the day they rescued you, but you wanted a new one. To you, that suit represented what you were created to be, and that is not who you are. You wanted something true to yourself, and he understood and wholeheartedly supported you. Damian helped you make a sketch, and together you’d designed the perfect representation of you. And you became Eclipse. The alignment of two heroes, though unintentional, created a whole new hero. You.

Taglist- @one-green-frog @bonniecat @minnieearsposts @chickentenderx @murkyponds @loserwithnofriends @ilikefanfics4 @fangirlvibez @instantplaiddream @lovelywritersgarden @calicocat45 @strawberrycreamh @sappynappysworld @zyuuuu @allycat4458 @lovelypitasworld @batfamlover @pterodactyl-hater @american-idiot21 @starlets-things @th1s-b1tch-1s-dead @dontgivemeyourname @normal-internet-user @sillyfinn @lostgirlsstuff @llvmakk @princess76179 @vanessa-boo @1lellykins @blitzythefanvergentpitsterthings @samibrewss @pickyblue12 @thetiredtoad0-0 @lacklustertrashbag (I'm not sure why some people's tags didn't work,, I am very sorry, if anyone has suggestions onhow to fix that i'm open to fix them)

#bruce wayne #clark kent #batfam #dick grayson #damian wayne #jason todd #tim drake #conner kent #batfam x reader #supers x reader #superfam #superbat #superman #batman #lois lane #clark kent x reader #bruce wayne x reader #platonic #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x y/n #clone! reader #kon kent #damian wayne x reader #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #young justice #project cadmus

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Fake boyfriend p3-

pairings - soft!rafe! X virginfem!reader

summary - you lie to your befriend that you have a boyfriend.

warnings - alcohol, language, mention of touching.

“So y/n, favorite position?” Kelsie questions, your body stiffens above Rafe. His hand squeezes your thigh, you screwed your face up at her. Her eyes were glassy and eyelids half closed, she was wasted. If she had been sober she would never have asked a personal question like that in a game. She would have asked you the details in private.

“Come on, don't be shy!”

All eyes are on you awaiting your answer, your skin was going to be a permanent shade of red if people kept embarrassing you. Clearing the back of your throat. “I-”

The words don’t seem to form, everyone’s still staring at you causing your heart to pound in your chest. “My girl is a lady, she doesn’t like to disclose personal information… but for the sake of the game and to keep you guys quiet she really loves to ride me”.

You have to bite your tongue to stop the choking sound formulating in the back of your throat, your skin covered in goosebumps at the idea of sitting on Rafe’s cock. Why were you suddenly so comfortable with the idea of sex? Subconsciously your body moved against him when the tingles spread from your toes to your pussy. Kelsie’s eyes are wide and she lets out a squeal. “Goddamn! Bestie you're holding out on details!”.

You shook your head, letting out a forced laugh. You were letting this fake boyfriend thing go too far, you didn’t want to lie to her about sex. Rafe’s hands tighten around your hips to stop you from moving. “You keep moving and we are going to have a problem” he whispered into your ear, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Your body straightens up against him, did he mean what you thought he meant? Was you moving against him causing him to get an erection?

Everyone turns to Topper and waits for him to choose truth or dare. You're not even sure why you were playing the game, you’d not played it since grade 8 where you got dared to kiss Jacob the popular boy. It was another embarrassing moment to add to the list of embarrassing moments.

Rafe clears his throat, turning your head slightly to look down at him. “Sorry, I’m not sure if you wanted me to say anything”.

“Oh no, thank you for saving me. I um- I wouldn’t have known what to say anyway since you know… I’m a virgin” you whisper, you can feel his heartbeat pick up against your chest. “I see” is all he says and you both avert your attention back to the game happening in front of you.

“Rafe’s turn!” Kelsie squeals, she’s handing everyone shots which you politely decline only to get an evil glare from your best friend. “Dare”.

“I dare you to make out with y/n”

“Kelsie, they are dating remember” Sam laughs, shaking her head at your best friend. “So? My bestie finally has a boyfriend. I wanna see her kiss him again”.

The rhythm of your heart had only just calmed, picking up a few notches you could heart it in your eardrums, the same tingles spread through you when you feel him around move under you, angling both your bodies to look at one another.

You're more nervous than the night before, this time you didn’t have liquid courage. This time you were going to kiss him completely sober, you were also sure he was sober so he would remember what a terrible kisser you were.

His lips turn up into a smile, the creases around his mouth have you feeling strange. His thumb and forefinger reach up to hold your chin, angling your face up slightly. Your breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling faster than usual. His eyes search your face for a sign of discomfort, only to be met by approval. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip pulling it slightly away from your lips, your eyes flutter closed as his lips dust over yours.

You're pushing your body into his, deepening the kiss before he can. His hand holds you by the jaw, lips moving roughly against each other. His tongue slips between your lips and his hands are pulling at your waist, trying to bring you as close to him as possible. Your legs have a mind of their own, moving to straddle his lap.

You're both so caught up in the kiss you forget you're playing some childish game, neither of you hearing your friends behind you who coughed and called your names. They give up after a few tries and end up leaving the room, making their way to the pool.

You're running out of breath and pull away, foreheads pressing against each other. Your breath fans over his lips as you calm your racing heart, you're brought back to reality when you hear a loud splash. Turning away from Rafe to see no one was in the room anymore.

“Sorry… I” you begin to say but he cuts you off by pressing his finger to your lips. The urge to suck his finger is strong, you have to grind your teeth to stop you from doing so. “Why are you apologizing”.

“I don’t know…”

“Have you ever kissed someone like that before?” He questions, his finger has dropped from your lips now. Both hands lay upon your thighs as you still straddled him, very aware of the hard lump pressing against your core. “No”.

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah oh yeah definitely”

He nods his head, another small smirk on his lips. “Can I ask you a personal question?”.

“Sure” he looks at you for a moment and contemplates what he’s going to ask, his eyes searching your face once again. “Is there a reason you're a virgin? I mean you're a beautiful girl, it can’t be anything to do with your looks”.

Your cheeks flush pink again, moving your body off him and onto the seat beside him. His own body seems to follow you for a movement, his back lifting from the chair but he quickly settles back down.

“No real reason, I just have never felt comfortable with someone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a horny 22 year old but I’m not going to pick someone up at a party. I need to feel comfortable and I went to a girl high school and when I move into uni, my parents were into me about finishing with the highest grades… I didn’t get a proper childhood”.

He nods his head in understanding, being a virgin has never made you feel embarrassed up until Kelsie wouldn’t shut up about it infront of people. It was your body and decision, no one has ever made you feel comfortable enough to get naked and go further than kissing and even then the people you had kissed before Rafe never sent shivers down your spine. Rafe had you feeling a different way, you were embarrassingly wet for him the moment your eyes caught his and you didn’t care, you enjoyed feeling this way.

“Did you want to go for a swim?”

“Let’s go”

You follow him out of the house and down the stairs into the garden, you're surprised he knows where he is going but assume he must have snooped while you were asleep. Your eyes are trained on his chest as he takes his shirt off, his abs are rock hard. You have a sudden urge to run your hands down them but you stop yourself.

“Wait I need my swimsuit”

Before he can respond, you're bounding up the stairs again, forcing your way through your bedroom and rummaging in your drawers. You didn’t own anything sexy, but you didn’t care any swim suit made your boobs looked good.

You change quickly and race back outside, Rafe still stood in the same place but with a beer this time. He nods at you as you walk back down the stairs, as soon as you're at his side he’s wrapping his arm around your shoulder walking the two of you to the pool.

Another shiver runs down your spine, his hands instinctively rub up and down them to keep you warm. You give him a soft smile and let him walk you to the edge of the pool.

Music drowns everything out, you watch closely at your best friend who floats on her back in silence. Though she can sense your near she pushes herself up from the water and locks eyes with you.

“Y/n!” Your best friend screams, you give Rafe a smile and race around the pool. Jumping into the water in front of her, she wraps her around around you and straddles your waist. “I’m having the best time, are you having the best time?”

“Yeah babe of course!”

The two of you chat and float around, swimming over to your other friends and then playing a game of Marco Polo. You swim over to the side away from everyone to catch your breath, head leaning against the concrete, Rafe joins you momentarily after.

“It’s funny how we literally just met but everyone seems to be acting like we’ve been friends for years” he chuckles softly, you straighten up and look at how everyone’s just doing there thing, he drops his arm on the cement behind your shoulders, even though he had been in the water you can still smell the cologne on him.

“Well I’ve known who you are since you arrived, everyone knows who you are. You're just more reserved and stick to your friends” he admits, he looks down at you for a brief moment and then back at the water.

“Oh”

He was right, you moved here just before your 20th birthday. Your parents brought you a house on the island for your birthday, and said they lined up for a transfer with your degree. They wanted you to get away from home, uni had been hard and your motivation had been lacking.

Outer banks was only a 4 hours car ride from home, you didn’t really have a choice in the matter. But you didn’t really care because you didn’t have many friends at home anyway.

“But nothing wrong with sticking with your friends, I stick with mine”

You nod in understanding and leaning back, you can feel his bicep on your shoulder blades. Goosebumps litter your skin, you can feel your nipples harden against the material of your swimsuit. “Cold?”

Your face blushed a deep red, thankfully the night sky hid it. You could feel his eyes on you for a moment and then he pulled you away from the seat, his big hands holding your thighs and wrapping them around his waist. His arms hugged you close, his mouth pressed to your collarbone. “Better?”

You nod frantically, the goosebumps still visible but the heat from his body warmed you from the inside out. You were so shamefully wet right now, you could feel his abs against your pussy. Tightening your legs around him instinctively. “You okay?”

“Mhm” you breathe, you let him walk you both up and down the length of the pool. Everyone shouts and plays games around you but it feels like it’s only the two of you in the pool. “Get a room!” Topper shouts out, everyone laughs in the response.

“Let’s give them a show”

You nod your head eagerly, your lips had been longing to feel his against yours since he wrapped your legs around him.

He’s hungrily kissing your lips, slipping his tongue between your open mouth. Shamefully the heels of your feel dig into his lower back, pressing your cunt against his abs tighter chasing some sort of pressure.

His hands are timidly grabbing your ass cheeks and your bucking your hips against him. “Sorry” you squeak, his lips trail down your neck.

“Gross!” Everyone shouts but they turn back to their game, leaving you both in your own little world. He’s walking you until your back is pressed to the wall of the pool. “Rafe”

“Sorry sorry” he quickly says moving away from you but you're quick to stop him, his eyes shoot down to yours as you pull him back. “Don’t apologize”

He nods and keeps his hands underneath your thighs, you wiggle down a little and grind your hips into his hardening cock. “What are- what do you need?”

“I don’t know”

His lips are on yours again, your rolling your hips against his again. “Have you ever touched yourself?”

You nod your head, just because you were a virgin didn’t mean you didn’t chase that high. You were a believer of relieving your stress every chance you got, whether that be your fingers or a vibrator.

“Do you want- do you want me to touch you?”

“Please”

Part four

Tag list - @rafemotherfuckingcameron @rafegirly @prentissesredtanktop @maybankslover @vigilanteshitposting @drewstarkeyslut @emotionsmgcbabe @ijustwanttoreadlols @uraesthete @drewstarkeyswifehoe @aysha4life

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe x female!mc #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x smut #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #outerbanks smut #drew starkey #outerbanks fic #outerbanks x reader #drew x you #drew x reader #drew smut

[junggunz]

crew love | 🔞

summary: sometimes dick appointments don't go as planned... cw: fembodied!reader, there is ZERO plot, pwp, smut, fwb!samuel, fwb!eli, fwb!johan, fwb!jake, reader really said why have one bitch when you can have four-, fivesome-ish...each of the crew heads take turns with reader, mentions of masturbation, oral (f and m receiving), fingering (f receiving), lazy handjobs and blowjobs, c*ck drunk reader tbh, p in v, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, degrading dirty talk...mostly from samuel, jake calls reader 'pretty girl' once, everyone is 18+, bukakke ending, honestly there's a lot going on let me know if i missed anything. wc: 4.2k words that's crazy bc i shortened this by a lotttt. an: absolute insanity and peak degeneracy. a late merry christmas and an early happy new years from me to yall hehehe.

“And here I thought, my favorite slut was just a cute nickname for you. I never would have guessed that you were running around fucking these punks when I was too busy for you.” Samuel laughs dryly, his jaw clenching as his eyes drift over the other crew heads. 

Eli was just some runaway. Johan was a crybaby. But Jake Kim was a part of your little roster? You knew better than to even mention Jake around Samuel, but the fact you more than likely compared them when you talked about your sexual escapades with your friends was enough to get him seething with rage.  

It was truly an unfortunate coincidence when you sent a text to all four of your fuck buddies telling them to come over on the same day. While juggling so many guys at once, you anticipated that at some point, you would fuck up and remember wrong details about the wrong guy or even call one of them the wrong name at least once. But to screw up on this scale was beyond your imagination; you blame your overly chaotic life that caused you to seek out relief in the form of casual sex. Besides your schedule being all over the place and causing conflict, each of these men catered to a specific need you had.

Samuel provided you with rough, degrading sex that left you drunk on his cock. Johan gave you the illusion of having some sense of control in your life as you basically coached him into being the perfect fuck. Eli easily played the role of being a friend you happened to sleep with—oftentimes, him being the one you try out your new tricks with— And last but definitely not least, Jake was the one who could give you both a shoulder to cry on and a dick to ride on after a long day. They all had their own quirks and strengths that catered to whatever you needed throughout the week. Trying to pick a favorite was out of the question because you weren’t sure if you felt emotional attachment to any of them. There were no blurred lines or confusing boundaries, the basis of your relationship with all of them was just sex. And all four of them were good in bed or else you wouldn’t have bothered to keep their numbers.

“Well, now what? This isn’t the first time we’ve met under strange conditions and it probably won’t be the last.” Eli says, his tone even but with a flair of nonchalance as he sits down on your couch and looks at the other men in your living room.

Samuel alone is able to make the atmosphere tense with his disdain for Jake but everyone else in the room seems to be more baffled by the current situation you’re all in. It’s almost comical but it’s more awkward than anything and you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

“I came all this way to get my dick sucked and I don’t wanna leave with blue balls so, if you all could kindly fuck off—” Johan states bluntly only for Samuel to interject.

“What do you think I’m here for? Do you think I came to have a meeting with you fuckers again?” 

Jake who had been silently off in the corner, mind going at a hundred miles per hour as he contemplated his relationship with you after finally digesting the fact he had been sharing you with three other people, suddenly speaks up. When you hear the words that fall past his beautifully flawed lips, you swear that he has finally lost his mind. And to make matters worse, it seems like the madness is shared when everyone including Samuel agrees after taking a few moments to deliberate amongst each other; blatantly leaving you out of the conversation and not letting you know their gameplan.

Who would have thought that this day would be the ultimate test of how well these four could work together? Hands are all over your body, impatiently pushing you down the hall to your room and sitting you down at the ledge. Filling the spots on the bed on either side of you are Samuel and Jake; Samuel moving quickly to make the first move and assert his dominance. Inked hand roughly grabbing you by the chin, he turns your head to face him so he can plant his lips on yours. Lips parting in a salacious moan from his treatment, he seizes the opportunity to force his tongue into your mouth; tasting you before you could be tainted by one of the other three men surrounding you. Though Samuel is adamant on staking his claim on you first, Jake has no problem latching his lips onto the exposed column of your neck. The way his lips gently feather across your skin to make you squirm then gradually get more intense is the complete opposite of how Samuel is fierce with you from the get go but they both share the talent of easily turning you into a mindless, lust drunk mess with just their lips. With so many hands on you, you can’t tell who’s unbuttoning your shirt or who’s hands are snaking up your skirt to tease you through your underwear. You barely have any time to process Samuel pulling away from your lips because Jake occupies them as soon as the opportunity arises. You think you can recognize the feel of Samuel’s palms cupping your breasts and treating the tender flesh as stress balls. And you’re almost certain that it’s Johan who’s kneeling between your legs, pressing his face into your panty clad pussy while Eli is off to the side, keeping your legs spread.  

It’s only after Samuel’s hands have freed the supple skin of your tits and you have him and Jake latching on to your nipples, you’re able to see what’s going on to confirm everyone’s position. Even with the fabric barrier of your underwear, the way that Johan was greedily slurping your arousal through the fabric had your head lolling around dumbly. Your body was burning hot and the temperature was only rapidly increasing due to all the hands and mouths currently on you. Samuel’s tongue flickers over the perky bud of your nipple, leaving tepid trails of saliva in its wake. Jake’s mouth was surrounding the other, every so often grazing his teeth along the sensitive skin. When you look over at Eli with apologetic eyes, he only gives you a sly smile as his hand strokes your inner thigh; silently letting you know that you would always be worth the wait for him. 

So greedy to feel as much of you as possible, when Samuel moves back to your lips and Eli is able to have a taste of your breasts. Getting in just a few sucks and bites, Eli is more interested in getting back between your thighs when he sees Johan pushing your panties to the side. Kissing his way down from your chest and his lips marking every patch of skin exposed by your haphazardly arranged clothing, Eli’s teeth skim along your thigh and cause you to shudder. 

The moment Johan’s pretty fingers spread apart your sticky folds, everyone momentarily halts what they’re doing to look at the sight in awe before everything ramps up in intensity and your clothes are being pulled off your body. Easing a finger into your slick hole, Johan begins to move it in and out of you steadily; basking in the sensation of your tight walls stretching to accommodate the intrusion of the lone digit. Not too long after that, he’s grabbing you by the thighs and yanking you forward until your back falls flat against the mattress, your upper body no longer propped up Samuel and Jake. Even with the adjustment in position, Jake’s mouth had remained stuck on your chest; finally able to cup both tits in his hands when Samuel sits back on his knees after deciding he wanted something else, reaching for your hand and guiding it to palm the bulge in his boxers. 

Attention disproportionately divided between the four men as their hands needily grope you, Johan occupies the most of it when his fingers enter you again. Palm facing up with his ring and middle fingers pressing against the spongy spot within your walls, your breathing is uneven with moans getting stuck in your throat.  His fingers don’t move particularly fast or deep but they apply a consistent pressure against your sweet spot that makes your thighs shake and would have had your hips bucking if Eli wasn’t the one keeping your lower body firmly pinned against the mattress and your panties out of the way for Johan. With just a few firm pushes into the same spot, Johan makes your pussy squirt and Eli is quick to lean in and claim the first taste of your honey; earning a small glare from the man who had actually brought you to your orgasm. Immediately after Eli pulls away, Johan’s tongue is lapping at your clit to taste your release. Fingers still inside you, Johan repeats his same movements from earlier to make more of your nectar spill out of you before he leans in to drink your juices straight from the source. 

“Open up, sweetheart.” Eli coos softly to get your attention, now kneeling beside you with his cock out which you respond to by gently holding the base of his length and guiding it into your mouth. 

Only a few seconds into sucking on Eli, you feel Samuel slapping the heavy tip of his own erection against your cheek until you turn to him and give him the same treatment. You try your best to simultaneously stroke both of them and alternate giving them your mouth, but Johan is still having his fun between your legs and playing with your sensitive pussy, in search of other spots to make you see stars. At this point, any type of contact on your private parts gets you to thresh and writhe; your brain so muddled that it takes Eli and Samuel constantly reminding you that you were supposed to be giving them your mouth. 

Things had just started and you were already drowning in your own sea of selfish pleasure. Pushing you to lay on your side and accentuating the natural curves of your ass and hips, you watch with hazy eyes as Eli and Johan switch positions; Johan presenting his hard length before you to which you thoughtlessly take in your mouth while Eli’s tongue ravenously licking up the trail of wetness that dripped from your pussy to your puckered asshole that was now easily accessible to him. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feel of Eli eating you out so hungrily. By no means was Johan bad with his mouth and fingers, but Eli was simply a more seasoned lover. With enough practice, the two would be on similar playing fields at some point because they had a similar wild streak masked by their pretty faces. Messily smearing your arousal all over the place, the dominant sensation in your lower half is wet and downright sloppy. There’s a gentle pulsing within you due to the back to back orgasms brought to you by Johan’s fingers, but it is quickly diminishing and being replaced by a new coil of heat building in your stomach.  

Right when you think you’re gonna cum on Eli’s tongue, you see quick movement out of the corner of your eye. 

“I can’t fucking wait anymore.” You hear Samuel growl. 

Impatiently shoving Eli out of the way and lining his length up to your hole, sinking into you with one harsh thrust and starting off at a mean pace. The sudden stretch of Samuel’s cock stings like it always does, but with how wet you are and how heavy his thrusts are, he slips right in. With your senses zeroing in on the intrusion of Samuel’s length, your mouth comes off of Johan, only leaving him with the remnants of your saliva to lubricate his shaft as he jerks off to you being filled by Samuel. 

“Fucking pathetic. Inviting all your fuck buddies over and you can’t even mulitask.” Samuel chuckles darkly, giving your ass several hefty slaps that leave the skin stinging with an almost pleasant burn. 

Dizzy from all the movement and finding yourself on your back again when Samuel’s hands push both your thighs against the mattress so he could plow deep into you, watching your pussy greedily swallow his length. After observing from the sidelines for a bit, Jake joins in on the action and offers his thigh to rest your head on; the exchange being that your mouth was solely his for the moment. The lips on your face being stretched around Jake’s length while your lower lips were being plundered by Samuel, the sound of your moans have died out and the soundtrack of your bedroom consists of the sound of your poor bedframe trying not to break, wet skin slapping against each other with the low moans and groans of each of your fuck buddies. You don’t have to look at Johan or Eli to know that they were taking a breather, idly stroking their own lengths to the sight of you being wrecked by the two former colleagues. 

No one says anything but everyone can see it on your face. When your mind is venturing off into space as Samuel fucks your brains out, all it takes it Jake gently caressing your cheek or your stroking your hair to bring you back to Earth; looking up at Big Deal’s leader with a more affectionate expression while you suck him off. Of course, Samuel is the only one bothered by this minor quirk; plowing into you harder and deeper like he was trying to ruin your pussy for everyone else by molding you to only take him. But all his brutal thrusts do is knock the wind out of you, making it impossible to warn him before he’s pushing you to your orgasm and causing your walls to squeeze so tight, it forces his cock out as your juices are expelled from your loins. 

“You couldn’t hold it just a little longer, nasty slut?” Samuel groans, giving you another harsh slap but this time on your thigh as he reluctantly pulls away from you. 

The sight of your orgasm signaled that Samuel’s turn was up and since Jake was the closest, he’s quick to claim his spot between your spread thighs, slowly easing himself into your sensitive pussy. As much as it irritates to see Jake so eager to take his place, Samuel moves off to the side; hand wrapping around his angry cock to maintain his hardness. Seeing how Johan and Eli were holding up with only a fraction of his frustration, Samuel started to wonder what kind of things you got up to with either one of the two for them to be so patient in this situation. 

On a regular day, Jake would be better at taking his time with you and building up to a pace that brings you to your sweet release but after waiting so long to feel you and feeling the way your love canal rhythmically throbs around his cock after your finish, it’s like you have him in a trance. Not as rough as Samuel, but definitely more aggressive than his usual self, Jake thrusts into you needily. Your wanton moans mixing in with Jake’s are loud enough to drown out the sound of your bed squeaking in protest. Body so high strung, it comes as no surprise that you can only hold out for so long before you’re calling out Jake’s name between breathy whimpers. 

“What is it, pretty girl?” He asks you, voice wavering ever so slightly as your walls squeeze him even tighter and become more slick around him; his body torn between pushing deeper into your pulsing heat or halting his movements. 

“I’m gonna cum again—” You pant, looking up at him with glossy eyes to top off your sheepish expression; feeling bad for making him wait so long just to barely get any time with you. But Jake could never be mad at you for cumming too soon on his cock. The warmth of your walls gave him a comfort that simply couldn’t compare to other one night stands he had been with. Even in this situation where he had to share you, bringing you to orgasm filled his chest with pride just the same.

Reaching between your bodies, his thumb gently toys with your swollen clit in time with his thrusts, causing a shrill yelp to pour from your lungs before you tremble beneath him, your hips bucking wildly and your walls wrapped around him like you were made for him, it almost tempts into finishing inside you, but he swiftly pulls away. Dick throbbing after being denied of his own climax, his hand wraps around the end of his shaft, lightly squeezing the tip as he looks toward Eli and Johan to see who would call next. 

Despite his eagerness to kick everyone out of your apartment earlier so he could have you to himself, Johan lets Eli go first. Not out of politeness but simply because making mental notes of how everyone else treated your body. Johan may have been at a disadvantage by not having as much experience under his belt as the others, but he was able to make up for it with how quick he learned by observing. Watching the same type of porn you liked may might have given him some insight to what gets you off; however it just didn’t compare to actually seeing in real time how you liked to be fucked. 

Eli moves between your legs, ready to mount you until the wetness of the sheets against his skin nags at him. There had been countless times where he had been able to make a mess of you like this on his own but something about having to kneel in a puddle of your juices that were coaxed out of you by someone else bugs him.

“God, it’s wet everywhere. You’re so messy.” Eli teases softly, plucking you off your mattress and hooking your thigh around his arm as he stands at the end of your bed frame. 

With you no longer laying down, everyone is able to see the faint outline of your figure created by you sweating on the sheets along with the sizable dark, wet stain of your orgasms. It’s so vulgar and dirty, but it’s exactly the type of thing that seems to boost morale amongst the men and make them even more eager to wreck you. 

Balancing yourself on just one foot, it’s up to Eli to keep you stable; one hand tightly gripping your thigh and the other keeping a vice hold on your ass. The moment he sinks into you, your body tenses for just a moment before relaxing in his arms. Being taken at this angle somehow manages to wipe more thoughts from an already barren mind. You feel Eli’s length pummeling deep inside of you, you feel his lips ghosting along your neck and jaw but it’s almost as if there’s disconnect between your mind and body. You can’t even think about how loud you’re being and if you keep it up, you might end up with a sore throat because your moans just keep tumbling carelessly.   

Rutting into you with the perfect balance of passion and primal instinct, Eli genuinely contemplates giving you a nice, warm load right into your cervix so you’d have to keep him around. The only thing that stops him from asking if you want his seed at that moment is the fact that there were three other guys coping with varying levels of sexual frustration and would throw a fit if he came inside you so soon. In the back of his mind, Eli was more than ready to creampie you if you had begged even just a little. 

You don’t even have to string together the words to warn Eli that you were on the verge of another explosive orgasm. He could see it all over your face. He could feel it in how you clutched onto his shoulders and dug your nails into the skin. And the most damning of all, everyone could hear the way your moans escalated in pitch and volume. Your body feels like jelly as you gush all over his length, the only thought in your head wondering how were you going to make it through the rest of the night if things continued on like this? 

After Eli pulls out of you, it’s a literal hand off to Johan; feeling God Dog’s leader put his hands on your waist then bend you over while your hands still clung to Eli. Rough fingertips dig into the meat of your hip as Johan establishes a firm hold on your body, he pushes his hips forward; the harsh thrust cushioned by the softness of your ass. You gasp loudly, not expecting the tip of his cock to hit your sweet spot right away. If he continued to fuck you at this angle, there was no way you wouldn’t come apart with just a few more thrusts—Johan knows that and quite frankly, doesn’t care— It’s proven when he gives you a few experimental bucks of his hips and feels the telltale sensation of your walls clamping down on his cock that lets him know you had orgasmed. With how quickly you cum, your jaw hangs open in shock and no one else is the wiser so Johan continues to lose himself in the sensation of your warm, wet heat. 

“How are you still so fucking tight?” Johan groans out, a delirious laugh rumbling in the back of his throat while he ruts into you, pushing so deep that his full balls are squished up against your swollen pussy lips. “Is it because you’re waiting for someone to bust inside you?” He says, leaning in to whisper the words into your ear. 

You lose count of how many times you cum on Johan’s cock alone but at this point, your walls are so sensitive that even with the undulating, rapid movements of his hips, you feel every vein and ridge rubbing up against you.  

“N-no…” You whimper, despite the very obvious spasming of your walls after hearing his question.

“Just say the word and I’ll fill you up-” 

“If you cum inside, we’re kicking you out.” Jake quickly cuts in after overhearing the brief exchange between you and Johan. 

Rolling his eyes at the latter’s comment, Johan promptly shoves you off his cock; not wanting to deal with the bickering that would ensue if he were to finish inside you like he wanted. Never empty for long, as soon as someone pulls out of you, someone else is filling you up again or moving you into another position before entering you again. It’s truly a group effort to remind you to use your mouth or hands on the other guys when you have one of them balls deep in your pussy, your mind long gone and in a depraved daze.   

It’s only when you get to a point of being barely able to keep your eyes open, your bedroom is filled with an urgency to finish before your body finally gives out. It had been in the middle of one of Eli’s turns when everyone quietly came to the decision to wrap things out and he pulled out of you, your body tiredly sprawled out on the soiled sheets. Everyone stands around you and furiously jerks their dicks before you feel splashes of warmth all over various parts of your body. Even though your vision was mostly fuzzy by now, you could tell by just the locations who finished where. Samuel made sure to paint your face, uncaring of whether he got it in your hair or eyes but ensuring he slapped his tip on your tongue as he shot out the final rope. Eli came all over the outside of your pussy, fondly smiling at the sight as he did so. Jake had mostly aimed for your chest; letting a few stray ropes spray over the lower portion of your face because he knew it would get a rise out of Samuel. And Johan had opted to leave a nice pool of his seed right above your navel since your ass wasn’t an option for him today.

Fucked out and exhausted, you stumble to the bathroom to get yourself cleaned up and make it clear that they needed to change your bedding for you before they left. Once that’s all done, you don’t even bother saying bye to any of your fuckbuddies since it was a normal part of your routine to send them away after cleaning up. You hear your front door slam shut, the electronic deadbolt automatically locking it for you and you assume everyone has left so you could go to sleep but the sound of footsteps approaching your bedroom again makes you slowly sit up and look toward your doorframe. 

You thought you didn’t have a favorite crew head, but when you see that he’s the one who decided to stay behind, you perk up as you welcome him back into your bed. Whether it was simply enjoying each other’s company or just resting before going for another round of sex, you’re glad it’s with him. 

#lookism x reader #lookism smut #samuel seo x reader #samuel seo smut #samuel seo scenarios #jake kim x reader #jake kim smut #jake kim scenarios #johan seong scenarios #johan seong smut #johan seong x reader #eli jang scenarios #eli jang smut #eli jang x reader #junggunz.txt

[lovebugism]

Hi bug!

For the domestic prompts,

#12 with Eddie?

thank u for requesting lovie! hope you like it! — you and eddie are friends with benefits, but he wants something more. you don't realize that you do, too, until he wants to see other people (fwb, idiots in love, angst, mentions of smut 18+, 1.7k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Sticky and still twisted in the sheets, Eddie reaches out for you.

His fingertips dance across the slick skin of your shoulder, just barely. You pull away like you always do — sluggish and dismissive, like it’s instinct to deny yourself of his affection. And even though it isn’t the first time you’ve rejected his softness (not nearly, not even half), it still aches the same.

Eddie laughs it off like he’s always had to. It’s easier that way.

“Wanna go get food, at least?” he asks with a soft chuckle. The color of the boyish sound matches the faint yellow glow of your bedside lamp — golden.

With your eyes still closed, weighed down by the post-sex honey, you shake your head into the pillow. “No, I’m good,” you mumble, then writhe and stretch beneath the blanket like a cat. 

Your eyes flutter open in time to catch the pained look on Eddie’s face. His features are blurry with bliss and exhaustion, screwed slightly like he’s flinching from your words.

“I can’t really feel my legs right now, so…” you joke with a quiet smile instead of telling him that no, you can’t go out to eat because that’s basically a date, and that’s not what this is. You think you’ve repeated that spiel enough for a lifetime.

Eddie knows this, but he appreciates that you care enough not to hurt his feelings.

A crooked grin tugs at his swollen pink lips. His pale legs swing over the side of your bed as he reaches for his boxers, left forgotten on the floor with the rest of your clothes. He stands to tug them up his hips again.

“Well, you wouldn’t happen to have any food in the kitchen, would you?” he wonders, glancing at you over his shoulder. His chocolate eyes twinkle when he flashes you a teasing grin. “Something other than chips and mac and cheese, preferably.”

“I think I have some leftover takeout in the fridge,” you answer with an absentmindedness that Eddie’s gotten used to by now. You care about him, but only so much, and not enough to make a big deal about any of it.

“Ah, leftovers,” Eddie repeats with a whimsical sigh. “The epitome of romance.”

You snort a faint laugh and prop your cheek on your fist. “Well, I’d cook for you, but I wouldn’t wanna give you the wrong idea.”

“Hey. C’mon. I’m, like, Feminist Numero Uno, alright? I’d happily be your housewife—” He cuts himself off with a laugh when you reach for a pillow. He flinches when you half-heartedly swat him with it.

“That’s what I’m talking about! We’re not dating, Eddie!” you say with a sweet laugh that only halfway lessens the blow of your words. “You’re not my housewife— you’re not my anything!”

You have to remind him of that a lot. He has these moments, where he wants to get all sweet and cuddly and play boyfriend with you. As far as you’re concerned, the affection is supposed to stop when your clothes are on. That line’s a whole lot blurrier for Eddie.

He doesn’t know when he’s supposed to stop loving you because he loves you all the time.

The stinging returns. There’s a million crackling orange embers in his chest, where he’s pretty sure his heart is supposed to be. You’ve stolen it, though, with no intentions of returning it. Eddie’s happy to let you keep the wretched, bleeding organ of his. He likes that you’re holding it. Even though your nails are digging crescent shapes into the delicate thing.

“Right,” he murmurs, then clears his throat when his voice breaks. “Yeah.”

“Maybe instead of eating my stale leftovers, you call Chrissy and invite her out to dinner?” you offer with an absentminded shrug, turning onto your stomach and kicking your feet up behind you. Your legs poke out from beneath the thin sheet, showing the faintest sliver of your ass. 

Eddie takes great care not to look at you. You’re so pretty it hurts — hurts ‘cause he can’t have you.

“I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

Eddie thinks for a moment, then nods. “Yeah. Maybe. ’S probably a better idea, huh?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve teased him about Chrissy. She’s the prettiest waitress at Benny’s Burgers — hell, all of Hawkins, even — and she’s crazy sweet on him. Any other day, he’d argue back and forth with you about it. “She doesn’t like me,” he’d tell you, “She doesn’t even exist to me when you’re around.”

No, this isn’t the first time you’ve brought up Chrissy, but it’s the first time he isn’t detested by the sheer thought of being with anyone other than you.

You falter. Just for a moment. “I mean, duh— all my ideas are better than yours.”

“You really won’t be mad if I take Chrissy on a date?” Eddie asks you, bending at the waist to tug his black ripped jeans over his long, pale legs. His chocolate eyes twinkle with expectancy. He wants so badly for you to say yes.

You won’t humor him with any of that, though. 

“‘Course not. We’re not dating, so… I don’t really have a reason to get mad.”

Distantly heartbroken, he nods. “Okay. Good.”

“It might be better, actually,” you confess, trying hard not to stare too long at his happy trail when his milky white hands button his pants. “You know, if we both start seeing other people.”

Eddie freezes. “What? Like— breaking up?”

“Well, there’s no breaking up involved.”

“Right… ‘Cause you’re not my girlfriend.” 

The words taste like vinegar leaving his mouth.

They shouldn’t sting you like they do. 

You try to smile, anyway. “Exactly. Look at you, Eds— You’re finally getting the hang of it.”

“So, what? I see Chrissy, and you see…?” he trails off, turning away from you to search for the Metallica t-shirt he wore on the way over. He finds it on your bookshelf, likely from where he’d flung it over his shoulder in an attempt to make you laugh.

“I don’t know. I guess, I can see if Steve’s free. He’s usually a reliable fuck.”

Eddie glances at you, doe eyes narrowed. He’s trying to analyze you — to gauge whether or not you’re being genuine or if you’re bringing up your ex to hurt him. Maybe it’s both. It’s sort of what he’s doing to you now, anyway.

He’s only half as genuine as he is angry about the whole thing, but he’ll burn alive before he lets you see how furious it makes him feel.

He scoffs a bitter chuckle and tugs his shirt over his head. “Well, have fun with King Steve, I guess.”

“As long as you have fun with the princess,” you tease with too sweet grin.

“Oh, I’m sure I will.” 

That’s all he says — in the place of any real goodbye. Most times, he refuses to leave your apartment until he’s smothered you in a thousand kisses. He hopes the lack of him makes you ache, that you’re grieved by his leaving just as much as he is.

You are, but you won’t let him know it.

You know you won’t have any fun without Eddie. You’re praying he won’t have any fun with Chrissy either — lest he falls for her and her pretty eyes and how kindly she treats him. But fuck, he deserves that. He deserves someone who doesn’t have a physical aversion to affection. He deserves a whole lot more than you.

He should go out to meet Chrissy, but you stop him before he’s got his hand on the rusted doorknob to leave.

“Eds, wait!” you call from the bedroom, plucking his leather jacket from the back of your desk chair and running into the living room with the thin top sheet clutched to your chest.

The boy turns around, eyes as wild as his hair. In a fleeting moment of irrational hope, he thinks you’re about to ask him to stay — to eat your leftovers with him and let him love you. But then he sees the jacket in your fist and tries to ignore the searing knife you’ve plunged into his chest.

“Can’t forget this,” you tease with a glimmer in your eye. “Cheerleaders dig the leather jacket, you know?”

Eddie squints when he takes it from you. His sly, halfway-forced smirk matches your own. “And how would you know that?”

“I don’t. It’s just a feeling.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods as he slides the jacket over his shoulders and arms. “That’s fair, I guess. Thanks for looking out.”

“‘Course,” you shrug, all nonchalant about the whole thing. You’re kissing the breath from his lungs a second later, leaning forward to knock your nose with his and smother his plush pink mouth with your own.

Eddie freezes, shocked by the sudden act of affection. 

You were never one for goodbyekisses — “That’s for people who’ve been together for two months or two decades, Eds,” you’d giggle while he’d sprinkle pecks to your nose, mouth, and cheek. “Not for people who only meet up to fuck.”

You’d always been more to him than that, but it hurt you never saw him any different.

But here you are now — kissing him stupid and staining his tongue with your taste before he’s shoving it down Chrissy Cunningham’s throat. You want him to taste you all night. You want him to remember you even when you’re not there. Because god knows this asshole’s gonna be on your mind all night.

You pull back from him after a few long moments, with swollen lips and heavy eyes. You trap your smile between your teeth and wrap your arms around yourself, keeping the sheet bunch up there even though he’s seen you in much, much less.

“Call me later, and let me know how it goes, yeah?”

Eddie, gone sufficiently dumb after being kissed so ardently, just nods for several agonizing seconds. “Yeah. Okay. Sure. Whatever,” he babbles with a rosy, freshly kissed mouth.

You turn on your heel and head back to your bedroom. Even when you disappear behind the shut door, Eddie stands in place — like he’s waiting for you to come back out and do the charade all over again.

The shower faucet hisses faintly. It knocks him from his daze, tells him he’d better take the pieces of you when he can get them instead of constantly sitting in wait for them.

On his way home, he tries to remember Chrissy Cunningham’s phone number. He knows there’s a six in the beginning, a three somewhere in the middle, and two sevens towards the end. 

He can’t think straight anymore.

You’re on his mind, on his mouth, and on his fingers.

There’s no use in thinking about anything but you.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

[hanafubukki]

OMG, hello! As someone who is weak for this single bat dad, I love your Lilia work. We always see MC being sent to meet General Lilia and co in the past or in a dream but I wanna ask you what would happen if General Lilia was the one sent to present time, where Lilia and F!reader are already a couple and meeting current Lilia. Like, General Lilia still doesn't like humans but he feels attracted to reader and current Lilia would be such a little shit about it. I can't help but imagine him just kissing reader while staring at General Lilia in the eye or hugging them from behind while reader talks to General Lilia and giving him the biggest Cheshire grin. He's not jealous or anything but is such a troll about it...

Hello Calico-Queen 🌺🌻🌷

Thank you so much 💕💜 I'm happy to hear that. Lilia is always in the brain, so its wonderful to hear people enjoy these fics that I write.☺️🌺

That being said, you're the third person who has somehow ended up in my brain. Because this is a thought I have been thinking of for awhile now but haven’t put to paper, just stuck in head and day dreamed about. 🥰

…Careful, you might get stuck under all the diasomnia fic and thoughts 😂 jkjkjk

Who would know how to push your buttons better than...yourself?? Current Lilia is going to do exactly that. General Lilia is going to be shocked about you initially, but I think he would be more shocked about himself.

What had happened? Did Meleanor’s thunder knock a few screws or something?? Why is he like this?

He doesn't know when he will get back to his time but he will...try and get used to his current situation. It will take him a while to warm up to you.

But don't worry, he's the same way with Silver and Sebek. Even with Malleus there's a familiarity but also a hesitance...as if this was all a dream.

Once he gets used to you though, you can tell he has a crush. He's like a cat; he wants affection but doesn't know how to ask for it. The way you treat him has him nervous and he can't help but relax. But these feelings are so new to him and you're a human, he doesn't know how to treat you.

Current Lilia is laughing his head off on the side because he knows exactly what his past self is thinking and he's having fun teasing him!

Current Lilia is going to kiss and hug YN knowing full well that is exactly what his past self wants to do. Smirk at him as his past self glares. Oh? You wish you could be this affectionate with YN. Sorry General, you're 400 years too early Kufufu~

Ah~ but Lilia shouldn't let his guard down. After all, this is himself after all. General Lilia is nothing if not stubborn and will take up the challenge.

The General one day grabs your hand before kissing it in thanks for your kindness. Another time, he might even have the courage to kiss your cheek.

Somehow you end up in the middle of these two's...competition, but I doubt you mind dear reader. 🥰

#answered #Anonie ask #lilia vanrouge x reader #general lilia vanrouge x reader #Hana queues

[circe69]

I Wanna Hear You Say Something

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader

summary: ghost really likes your accent, and you really like his.

cw: fluff galore.

A/N: I have ideas for a part two. Lemme know if you want it sooner than anything else.

Edit: Part two is here:)

——————————————————————————-

Tonight, was your first mission ever. You were terrified, seeing as though the only people surrounding you were huge, loud, and dangerous men. They had been in this field forever, and you had only shot maybe a few targets on the head. You weren't met for this type of work, but your new general said you had a knack for sniping.

It was pouring rain, perfect, you thought. You pulled together some sort of outfit, grabbing a pair of heavy cargo pants that just hung off your hips, and a turtleneck t-shirt. They didn't offer much else.

All the sudden, you heard consistent honking outside your dorm. It was the boss, and the rest of your new companions in a large truck. You quickly grabbed your rifle, water, put on your combat boots and ran outside.

The rain kept getting in your eyes, making it hard to see, and you almost ran into the car door. Opening it with force, you jumped in the truck and landed on your hands and knees.

Wonderful. What a nice entry! is all you could think.

The man in the front seat turned around, trying to ignore your faceplant, and said, "Boys, welcome Y/N. She's a sharpshooter. Treat her like one of your own."

You stood up, face red, and dusted off the mud on your pants. You smiled at the general, silently thanking him for the introduction. As you took a seat in between men twice your size, you quietly said,

"Hello."

A few snickers from across the truck caught your attention, and the man sitting to your right said with his booming voice, "Oh great, we've got a clumsy sniper." He looked at you, and met your eyes with such sarcasm, all you wanted to do was roll your eyes, but his mask drew your attention away from your brewing anger.

A skull? Ah, so this must be the infamous Ghost.

You stared for a little bit, then dropped your head to your lap and started fiddling with your hands.

Your anxiety was probably visible from miles away. You never wanted to mess up, but you definitely didn't want to screw up in front of a bunch of men who already are skeptical of you. Men are terrifying.

Army men are even more so.

You started to mess with the gold ring on your middle finger, sliding it on and off, until a large hand abruptly grabbed it from you.

What is his proble-?

"Is it real?" Ghost leaned down and whispered in your ear. His voice. It was too sexy for his own good.

He messed around with it in the palm of his hand, being sure not to drop it. You said back, "No, but don't tell anyone." You winked as he looked up into your eyes.

"Ahh. I see", he whispered once again. You couldn't help but keep eye contact, even when softly grabbed your hand and slid the ring back on your middle finger.

Might as well exchange vows already, you smiled to yourself, and he noticed.

"You wanna know somethin'?" He said gruffly.

You hummed in response, awaiting his fun fact.

"I really like your accent."

Something about that made your heart jump. It jumped even higher when he rested his gloved palm on your knee.

"And you're gonna be fine. Tonight, I mean."

He spoke with such sincerity, it almost seemed natural to him, but he would probably cringe if you said that to him.

His fingers didn't move from your leg, in fact, if anything they were almost impossible to move. You smiled at him and put your hand over his, when suddenly the truck rolled to a stop, and you had arrived at your destination.

A few of the men had jumped out before you, including Ghost. As you neared the car door, Ghost grabbed your hips and pulled you out of the car. You gasped as he carefully let you down, and he yelled to be heard over the rain, "I didn't want you to fall again." You slapped his arm playfully and kept walking in front of him. He belly laughed behind you, and it made your stomach flood with butterflies.

You started jogging to take cover, and get a break from the rain, and followed close behind you. You had come across an old shack, the windows were busted, and doors unhinged, but it was enough to keep you dry.

Ghost took a seat on the floor behind you, resting his head on the wall.

"I'm tired of running in the rain, Y/N", he said sighing.

You giggled and nodded in agreement.

"I wanna hear you say something," he whispered in a low voice. He was a little out of breath, and you could physically see his chest rise and fall.

You took a few steps closer and kneeled down in front of him. You decided to tease him a little bit, so you covered your mouth with your hands and shook your head no.

He reached out and pulled your hands away from your mouth. He started spinning your ring around your finger as he gestured you to come closer.

"Please."

You were now straddling him, sitting directly on his lap and your hands were still enclosed in his, dropped down to his sides.

"What should I say?" you whispered, tauntingly.

He scoffed in annoyance. Right when he was about to say something, you snuck your hands up his torso, chest, and finally lifted his mask just enough for you to see his jawline.

You kissed his jaw lightly on one side, then breathed on his skin, "Oh, I know what to say." You kissed the other side of his jawline, and whispered, "I really really like your accent."

He grabbed your waist and started tickling you while laughing himself. He pulled you underneath him, so your back was on the wet floor, and he was caging you in.

"Good, well I'm glad we're on the same page."

#ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #modern warfare #ghost imagine #circe69scribbles

[honestsycrets]

querido i: a reward of 2099 | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ type | doubleshot; chapter is safe for work.

❛ summary | it's been a long time since you've been with miguel o'hara. when your daughter gabriella finds his wanted poster, life starts to unravel.

❛ tags | mention of murder and minor character death, hidden pregnancy, western au, spanish not translated, outlaw!miguel, baby-mama!reader, slight cursing, angst, threats.

❛ sy's notes | here's to listening to the civil wars' devil backbone one too many times. i needed a break from filling most requests, so i only incorporated one very lightly in this piece.

“Mamá, 2099 is a strange amount for a reward, isn’t it?”

Your daughter was a mischievous girl just like her father. She tore down the poster that was tacked up on the homely post office’s bulletin board as you gathered the weekly post. Coming into town was always a bit of a laborious task. With goods to gather and a little girl to socialize, you made it into town once every week.

"Sure is," Jackson the postman said.

“Thank you,” you plucked mail from the man’s dark hands. “I’ll see you next week.”

He wore a warm, kind smile. Working in the post office, he always seemed to be well-versed in what was going on in everyone’s life. His coal-black eyes shone warmly at you.

“Take care now, there’s wild men out there. What with Peter gone and all, you sure you girls will be okay out there? Rio’d sure put up Gabi and you at the hostel.”

Gabi scrunched up her face tight like a screw being twisted into a board.

“That’s real sweet of you to worry but I’m sure we’ll be fine. We've been out there nine years now. I’ll see you next week, sí? ” You tucked your post into a basket that dangled on your elbow, pulling long and heavy skirts to avoid trampling them with your boots as you opened the door.

“See ya then!”

Gabriella stepped out first, pulling on your lace sleeves as a cue for her delayed answer. She wouldn’t butt into a conversation, but she always seemed to hold her questions for a better time. You sighed, looking at the pale wooden buildings. Saloon, feed store, bank, and the occasional hostel. Over the last decade, the town seemed to flourish, bringing all manner of people to your once tiny Spanish town.

“I suppose they didn’t wanna give the extra coin out, Gabi.”

She looked back to the paper in her hands.

“Wanted dead or alive. Notorious badman Miguel O’Hara, 38, native of Nueva… why that’s here, mama!”

Your blood chilled. Congealed even. The sun nearly blinded you, even with the hat that kept the hot sun off of your head. You stepped off the doorway and onto the dusty ground, spinning on your heel to face your little girl with your dark blue fan in your hands, waving the heat of the day off your flushed skin.

“Wanted for--”

You swiped the paper from her fingers.

“That’s about enough of that. We best get on our way, we got goods to buy, the undertaker to see, and a new dress to fit for your papá’s funeral.”

“I was just reading it. In case we see him?”

“We won’t. It’s been a time since he’s shown himself around these parts. You have no business looking at-- that kinda man. He’s a troublemaker. Now get in the cart, let’s not dolly around.”

You would know.

“O—okay, mamá.”

“I’m sorry, Gabi, I don't mean to yell. You’re all I got, preciosa,” you wedged the paper into a new bible, right next to your wooden rosary, and flung it into the basket.

"I know."

You started ahead of her, fussing with your white veil, sparing no expense to the many questions that she had that day. You had just as many questions as she did.

You just couldn’t articulate them to a grieving little girl.

Do you think it's a boy or girl? the seamstress asks a woman in her shop. She fashions all sorts of fashions from birth to death. Her store is stuffed to the brim with frilly and lacy baptismal dresses. Your gaze fell on her belly, tracing the curve.

"Una niña," she says. Her voice triggers something old, some ancient memory you've suppressed. His voice in your ear, a soft kiss on your head. You're sitting there, next to the little girl that he always wanted, haunted by the flood of memories that comes with looking at another woman's pregnant belly.

"You're not like the others. Aren't men supposed to want sons?" you teased him. Miguel snorted, his arm underneath your neck as he gazed up at a sky of glittering stars. The air was lightly warm, a light wind fluttering through the tall grass. Post-relation bliss was warm on his skin, peaceful and quiet.

"For what? Men are jealous of sons," he muttered, shifting his head to kiss the top of your head. "Little girls are... the light in their lives. I'm going to call mine Gabriella. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"That's a real pretty name."

"Sure is. ¿por qué?"

You didn't tell him why. That you hid a secret underneath the layers of your dress. A secret that you knew Miguel would have more than an issue with if he knew.

"Mamá?" Gabi shakes your arm, "Mamá we're next."

Your mind likes to pull mean tricks on you.

Wanted for double murder.

Miguel O’Hara was always somewhere between a hangman’s knot and three mouths to feed. For you, the latter. You were under no illusion of the sort of man Miguel was.

Every look at your daughter’s soft, peaceful face at night reminded you of him. You worried that the more she looked at posters of Miguel, peered into an artist’s rendition of Miguel’s slight, sultry eyes, lush lips, and strong jaw-- she might be able to locate the similarities when she looked at herself. That was why you had to take the flyer from her. The artist sure had a fine hand at drawing him, the man who danced in your dreams by a warm fire and stayed up late counting the stars. He’s gotten thicker, you thought. You sat on the rocking chair as she slept peacefully, rocking back and forth on the chair.

A violent knocking at the front door swept you free from your thoughts. You snatched up the silver lantern, yanked a fine ivory rebozo over your shoulders, and rushed down the stairs. The booming knocking became louder, more urgent. The movement was mechanical, with no husband to answer the door for you, you checked the window first. The man who stood there was not a man you’d want to see. Not now, not back then. He had a wicked face that sat beneath a wide-brimmed hat that obscured the balding spot on top of his head.

God, not him. He was obsessed.

“Buenas noches, Doña O’Hara,” he peeped into the window.

“Bendito, don’t call me that,” you rushed out, the heavy wooden door slamming to a close behind you. “I’ve told you already, he is not here.”

“And I don’t believe you. First, your man-loving husband dies. Next, sightings of Miguel a town over. ¿Qué piensas? Hm? What comes after that?”

“My husband was trampled, Aaron. By a bull. He was a hard-working man who worked with violent cattle. These accidents happen. Why don’t you ask the undertaker?”

He wouldn’t. Although you don’t think Aaron is a complete idiot, he surely has his own motivations for which leads to follow and which leads to ignore. Your husband’s death was one of them.

“I’ll tell you what comes next. You come next. It’s only logical that he would come back to you. You have his daughter and all. Or… does he not know about that? I seem to recall him running out of here like a bat outta hell.”

“You’ve checked my property three times. Barn, basement, home. It’s been nine years, Aaron. Gloria a Dios, he’s probably remarried and forgotten me by now.”

“Not according to my reports.”

You hate the twinge of delight that comes from that admission. Your cheeks warm with blood, highlighting the rouge that sits across your cheeks. He chuckles caustically at how easily it shuts you up. Aaron takes a step forward, his deep leather boots creaking along the aged floorboards.

“What’d you want me to do with that information?”

“If he comes to see you, and I know he will,” he reached out for your chin. Your hand connects with his, shoving him back. “Tell me. You know, it’s a crime to kill another man without good cause.”

“You wanna catch Miguel for your own reasons, Aaron. Don’t bring none of that holier-than-thou bullshit to my footstep.”

“She can curse,” he laughs again. “Here I thought you were a good Christian woman.”

“Don’t try me,” He tries to corral you against the door. You flip your skirts up, his eyes following the motion. You seize the handgun strapped to your thigh, threatening to pull it on him. Aaron slides back, holding his calloused hands up. "Get off my property."

“I’m just saying. If you see him, you know where to find me. Who knows, you and I could work a lil something out.”

Even if you knew where he was, you would be hard-pressed to turn him into Aaron Delgado. You knew Miguel O’Hara would kill him. So, really, it was for his good. You watched him beat down the squeaky steps and mount his horse, fading into the distance of dark, twinkly stars. You probably shouldn’t be praying that robbers got ahold of him.

But only Diosito could judge you for that.

You dipped down to pick the lantern up, stepping off the steps to ensure that he was not just off your property, but properly gone. Then, seeing him set off toward town, you gazed up at the deep night sky. It was littered with an abundance of stars, massive and twinkling brilliantly. Miguel’s favorite constellations shone brightly in the sky. The Anglo called it-- Orion’s belt. Around here, it was named for the hunter: the deer, the pronghorn, and the sheep. You count each of the stars on your way back indoors to sleep in your empty bed.

You prayed Aaron’s hunt would be fruitless that night.

With your husband's untimely death came several complex decisions. Namely, what to do with his cattle hands and the animals under your care. You were fortunate enough to have support from the community in caring for the cattle, but you knew human affection did not last forever. You could sell his property at a scam of a price as a woman or you could keep it and work bitterly on the farm.

Or, as Aaron suggested today in the cover of concern, you could remarry yet again. It was nearly the only good option. Working wasn’t sustainable when you had a little girl to raise and a whole host of children to teach, as you always had. It would be nearly impossible to find someone like your dearly departed husband who knew your situation and couldn’t care less about it.

It’s good for a lil girl to have a father, he says. You know that-- but Aaron should be no one’s father. Not Gabriella’s. Miguel would’ve never approved. Neither did you.

You loosened beads of sweat from your hair as you returned inside, the ends of your skirt matted with dust. Gabriella would return home from school soon and you were fully intent on feeding her a slice of fresh peach pie.

You made your way into your home, your boots between your fingers. The smell of a smoky hearth piqued your attention. It didn’t arise from your great big wood stove that sat against the wall, ready to cook fresh tortillas, but the sort of hearth settled in the deep outdoors.

“Dios mío.”

Miguel sat there, plain as a field flower. His fingers tapped over the heavy wooden table, rolling in succession. He’s older than you remember-- jaw peppered with dark facial hair, his hair dark and wild, set away from his kind eyes that caught yours as quickly as you caught his. You dropped your boots at your feet, backing up once, twice.

“Don’t run, you won't get far,” his voice trilled, low and warm. Beside his sombrero on the table sat a thick rope and his gun, you don’t want to know which one he was planning to use today. His head twisted, a mused smile growing on his face. “You look so surprised, amor. You had to know I was coming.”

The nickname cut more than it used to. You had not been someone’s amor in a very long time. Married strictly by the weight of paper, you don’t exactly recall what the fleeting emotion of love felt like. Wisps of it licked a dead flame to life in your stomach.

“Miguel.”

“You look gorgeous,” Miguel hummed, turning his impossibly broad arms one over the other. You don’t remember him being this thick. He lurches onto his leather boots, taking a few practiced steps closer. Brilliant, you think, you’ve languished years thinking of this moment just to smell of sweat and cow shit. You suppose he’s smelled worse as an outlaw, a name that doesn’t quite fit the handsome man before you.

“You were always a bad liar.”

“Look, not smell.”

“My point stands,” you say.

Your normally practiced updo has gone frizzy, bits of hair escaping the clips that kept it flat against your head. Miguel’s eyes flickered over the strands, then down to your skin flush with blood and exhaustion.

“Mine too.”

You stared at him a moment longer before you found yourself laughing, just a light-- a small thing that you had failed to do over the past week. His death, and the subsequent funeral, was all too miserable. Now he was here and for a moment, just a brief thing, everything didn’t feel so earth-shatteringly dire.

He cracks a smile, drawing his hand to your flyaways, soothing it down against your head. You should be more angry at him-- settling you with a baby like he did and disappearing into the long grass with Widow and not a word more.

“I missed you,” you said quietly. His hand falls away from your head, drifting past his dark blue vest, and hooking at the fat metal belt buckle. “Pero… why are you here?”

“I heard Peter passed,” he said in a practiced tone. “I was a few towns over. Seeing how he’s taken good care of you all these years, I dropped in to say my dues to him. Came to see my girl too.”

The grief may not be readable in his eyes, but you know he’s practiced it in the same way you did for your Gabriella. Her only daddy was gone, deep in the cold earth. His words echoed in your ears, cutting through your grief bright and resonant. You wonder if he knew, but logically, you knew he couldn’t. Miguel always wanted to be a father.

“Who’d that be?”

“You,” Miguel turns your name over, making your name sound beautiful and light on his tongue. It’s sweet, like the peach pie cooling in your aged windows.

“After all these years?"

"Claro."

"You... shouldn't be here. You’re a wanted man,” you said. “Aaron is looking for you. You know that, right?”

“He's nothing to be concerned about.” Miguel shrugged off your suggestion. "I'm only wanted in these parts."

“Where else is there?” you said

“Out West. South. You take your pick,” Miguel lifted his hand, tracing your parched lower lip. “It don't matter to me. I seen all manner of places, like it here more than anywhere.”

"There's nothing here."

"Nothing but you."

You felt your stomach swoop, a delight filling it better than any meal you’d had. You parted your lips to say something else, to find a response that would fit-- to tell him the truth. But he left you then, came back when something fit better than the road. You wonder what fortune he must have made on the road that he’d come back. His hand caressed your cheek, rubbing it as if to soothe you. It didn’t.

“You think you can just go and come back like nothing happened? After what you did?”

The front door squeaked, dragging with a long hiss. Miguel peered over your shoulder as if it were instinctual, his hand snapping to the gun on his hip. You stopped him short of seizing his handgun. Gabriella bobbed in, closing the door tightly shut behind her. She wore a plain blue dress, fine ribbon braided in the updo she had on that day. She takes a few short steps forward before realizing who you were talking to.

“Mamá, I’m home!” she gasped. “That’s the man in the— in the flyer mamá--”

“Gabi go to your room.”

“I’m not--”

“Gabriella,” your voice went soft but stern. Nearly apologetic. You had been so hard on her lately. Miguel’s eyes dropped from Gabriella’s huge, doe-like eyes to her nose, then lips. His eyes sharpened, whipping back to look at you. “Por mí, okay? He won’t hurt me. Te prometo.”

She darted up the many steps to her room.

"Gabriella?" He stared at you uncomprehendingly. He quickly goes quiet, searching your eyes for something. You worry that he’s found the truth, your breath light as you walked over to your wooden stove, checking the flame and setting a pot of water that you brought from a nearby creek to bathe with. He follows you to the stove.

“My daughter is home. You should go,” you remarked, less of a command than a meek statement, floundering on your lips at the end. As delightful as it sounded, running off into some other territory, town, or world with Miguel-- it was unfeasible and irresponsible to be with a man whose name was stapled on the bulletin boards towns over.

“How old is she?”

"That's none of your business." Your outlaw hovers over you, absorbing the space, a bundle of heavy muscle and rage that plumes off his skin like the smell of sweat on your skin. It’s almost as if he can smell the regret seeping off your skin, despite knowing you couldn’t have done anything differently. No one told him and you could not reach him. Whatever the reason he stayed away, you were not the one he reached out to for updates.

“Tell me,” he growls, waves of anger causing his voice to shake. The tone is heartless, empty of the nights together, of slipping off with the old cattle hand at night and day, in the barn and the field. You’re stuck in the memory of your lovemaking with your vaquero, now your outlaw man. You missed him.

“Don’t do this. She could be listening.” You pad away from the stove to the window with the hope that he wouldn’t follow. He backs you up into the wall, his calloused hands so tight on his belt that you could draw lines of tension through his veins.

“You're not telling me because she’s mine,” he’s whispering, the words going through your chest, fizzling out into terrible pain. He reaches out, squeezing your hips to keep you put. Miguel leans into your space and buries you in his overwhelming scent.

“What do you want me to say?” you stare at his prominent muscles, the shift that is thrown open to expose his skin. He cups your jaw and throat with his large hand, forcing you to confront the truth. Your eyes blink closed, bits of tears dripping there. Miguel doesn’t have the patience for pity, or empathy, whichever the two you were looking for right then.

“I want you to tell me the truth. It's not hard.”

“Me telling you the truth changes a whole lot of nothing. You're putting her life at risk just being here. You're an outlaw,” you say, trying his rapidly evaporating patience. "You got a bounty on your head."

"It changes it all," he shoves you back into the window, a choked cry slipping from your throat. He doesn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to have the truth. Distantly, you were aware of Gabriella’s feet beating down the steps. You’re relatively certain she’d never gone all the way up to her room. In this creaky house you would have heard her door shut, the floorboards bounce. In either case, there’s no point running away from what you both know to be true.

“Sí, she’s your daughter,” you mustered the words in a bid to get it over with. Miguel always had to get his way. “Now what?”

Miguel flicked a look over his shoulder, marked by the heavy drag of his weighted firearm skidding across the wooden table. A life on the run will do that. Gabriella’s tiny hands slipped around his handgun.

“That ain't true!”

“Gabriella,” you cut her short. “Gabi, bebe, put that down.”

Miguel took a step back, pulling his head back slightly as you shifted in front of him. Her tiny head shook, over and over, tears pricking her bright brown eyes. You fooled yourself into thinking that she wouldn’t listen-- because your Gabi was a good girl. A wonderful good girl who liked nothing more but running in the field with the boys and brightly colored ribbons laced into her braids. She was also a mischievous girl who had been trying really, really hard to be good for you this week. Children had their limits.

“My papá is dead,” she said, her fingers trembling about the thing. Miguel’s head tilted in response, expecting you to take care of it. “His name was Peter and-- he liked sunsets and fluffy chocolate calves and--”

“Badly made blankets,” Miguel said lowly. Gabi lowered the gun, slowly, just an inch or two. “Shorn fabrics, uneven stitching, ugly colors.”

“He liked to make you smile-- be helpful,” he added. You snapped to look at Miguel as he rose his hand to his hips, gazing at the floor and rocking. He waits another moment, noting how Gabriella’s head nodded, rubbing away the tears that dripped off the corner of her eyes with her shoulder. She set the gun down on the table.

“You knew my papá?” she turns her arms one over another. “How?”

“He was my friend.”

“Mamá?” she looked toward you, seeking an answer from someone who wasn’t a face on a wanted paper with a reward of 2099 dollars.

“Peter was your papá but-- Miguel is your padre, mija,” you breathed hard, exhausted from years of suppression. She looks at you, not used to this level of betrayal. Her eyes are distant, somewhere in her tiny memories. She whips around and runs out the back door. Miguel turns his eye out the window, her tiny body disappearing into the deep green fields. The sun blinds your eyes as you look out to the fields full of cattle. He reaches for his rope and gun, settling them in their respective places.

“¡Déjala! She needs time alone.”

He heads out the backdoor. He never did listen well.

#miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spider 2099 x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #atsv miguel imagine #atsv imagine #atsv x you #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv fanfiction

[heyhihellosworld]

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞

Charles Leclerc x reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Sending your boyfriend alone with his friends to Ibiza shouldn't be a problem, right?

Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, slightly toxic relationship (or maybe a lot)

Notes: Angst is all I can write right now so here is some for you all. I just wanted to clear everything up with the pictures as well. I did not intent to include the girls in the story. The girls mentioned in the story is made up people but since it's so much easier to find pictures with them and Charles I chose to have the pictures. This is a bit messy but I tried

Summer break was made for relaxation, made to spend time with family and friends, made for rest. It was suposed to be a break from the hectic reality, a break from all the different surroundings and traveling. A break from formula one.

However summer break didn't feel like any of those things for you. No it was nothing that at all. All it was was hurt, stress and heartbreak. Anger and betrayal, no time to rest and no relaxation.

A fucking mess was what it was.

Charle's eyes were wide blown, like he were a kid caught doing something he shouldn't and it was pretty accurate, he had been caught

"Don't look at me like that" you spat at him, feeling anger brewing in your veins after you'd found him stood on your doorstep, begging you to talk, fucking talk

You didn't need to talk you needed to scream, punch or at least kick something. Your anger needed to get an outlap from your body, trapped in your clenched fists.

His adorably sad face made your frustrations hit the roof.

You stood far away as he stepped into your condo, only in your pj's as it was too fucking early in the morning.

Your whole body hurt as he did those small things he always did at your house, like taking off his shoes and neatly putting them to the right of your door and changing the date on the small date-decoration you had on the hallwaybench. Something so domestic didn't feel right anymore, he had betrayed the right.

You had been with him for a year by now, a year of exciting travels, experiences, love and adoration. He had been your closest person for a long time, having had you under his wing and you genuienly thought he would be the one to the end. The one you'd end up marry and have a family with, the one to the end.

But oh how things can turn

"You're really about to let him go with his friends to Ibiza just like that?"

You shrugged at Carmen who stood over you on the sofa, her hands on her hips looking like a scolding parent. Her face was showed suprise, eyebrows raised and mouth in tight line.

"I don't know what I can do about it, he wants to go, I can't" you simplified, met with her shaking of the head. Letting you know she didn't think this was a good idea, didn't approve of it.

"What? You don't trust him?" you asked, looking her in the eyes, a rush of concern errupting in your body. "Do you?" she countered seriously

You sat up, shrugging your shoulders again, an unsettling feeling in your body "I don't know, I mean I really should, we've been together for a year"

"That's not a yes sweetie"

You groaned, throwing you head back "Ugh I don't know, I still can't get Ana out of my head you know"

"I know and I can't either, that's why I'm sceptical" "Well fine but that was a a year ago, straight in the start in our relationship, I wanna think he wouldn't do anything like it again" you spoke

"Okay, okay, it's your relationship" Carmen nodded, finally sitting down next to you in the sofa. "I don't wanna worry you y/n, all is that I care about you and that I want you to be happy and he just.. he screwed up once so I can't trust him"

The sigh that left your mouth was heavy, you knew she was right but you didn't want to admit it. You had been together for long, trying to push the warning signals to the ground, maybe it was time to see them for real.

"Well what to do, let's hope he dosen't screw this up" you sighed, dusting the dirt of your pants before standing up, looking at your friend who stroppily looked back at you "Again" she snarled

Wagsgossip

Liked by 573 783

Wagsgossip Charles Leclerc seen with multiply different women, women who is clearly not his girlfriend Y/n.

Charles Leclerc reportedly left to Ibiza with some friends and co-drivers on the grid this monday. Leclercs girlfriend Y/n, who he has been dating for around a year was not with the group to Ibiza despite the fact that many of the other guys have their missus with them. Rumours about the pair has been spread over the course of the last few weeks regarding a possible break up but nothing has been official if that's the case.

Pictures have been spread all over internet of Leclerc now cozying up to multitude different girls, wonder how this will reach Y/n

What do you think of this?

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f1lovees OMG what is he DOING?!

justanInchident No Leclec, no

charcharles finally

f1111 He fumbled

chacha Please tell me this isn't true

Carmen was at the door before you even had the time to gather your head around the articles that traveled all over the internet. You'd felt it coming, felt it since he took the step onto that fucking plane, you knew this was it. You should have known better, he was who he was, like he was, he was an ass.

Charles were sweet and loving, soft and calm. He was fun to be around and when things were good between you he was someone you could picture forever with. The only thing was that when he fumbled, he fumbled hard.

The first weeks into your relationship one of those situations had accured, he had seen this girl, behind your back a bit into your relationship. You should have put the breaks in then, but you hadn't. Forgiven and forgotten you'd said.

Now you regretted that.

You should have ended it before it even started after that fuck-up but you didn't, too smitten by his adorable smile and light mood. You got to pay the price.

And you did because now you stood here like an idiot.

-

Carmen stormed into your apartment, steam practically brewing from her ears as she let out a shout of frustration. "I told you! I told you you couldn't trust the fucker!"

You huffed, not knowing what to say or do, it wasn't rage, not sadness, no all you felt were emptiness, maybe a tad of embarrassment.

"He is such an idiot! I can't believe him!"

"Carmen calm down, it's fine. I guess"

"It's not fucking fine! Come on Y/n! He cheated on you! He made a complete fool out of you!" she spoke, her eyes so wide you worried they were gonna pop out of her skull.

Like on cue George stormed into your small condo, seemingly out of breath and clutching his stomach. "Shit, I'm so sorry Y/n, I tried to make her give you some space but she ran... fast"

You couldn't help but let out a small giggle at your friends. It felt weird in your body, not knowing what was going on, knowing your relationship would end. You didn't know how to react.

George sat down next to you in the sofa, taking your computer who sat next to you with the articles open. "I can't actually believe it" George muttered to himself as he scrolled to the hundred different articles and pictures that was circling around.

"I'm sorry but why aren't you more upset?!" Carmen spoke harshly, George shooting her a disaproving look "I mean, I am upset but it just feels like... I knew I had it coming"

"What?" Geogre echeod Carmen "I don't know, it just feels like our whole relationship is built on false hope, on false trust. Like since our rocky beginning I knew deep down something like this would get the best of us. I knew he would fuck up again and since the idea of Ibiza came up I don't know... I just felt it coming"

"Are you not mad at all?" George asked shocked but you laughed coldly at his question

"Of course I'm fucking pissed. Lets face it, the man tricked me into false hopes and false trust. He made me feel loved and comfortable only to go and jump the closest girl the second I'm not there. He made me look like a fucking fool in front of the media, not once, not twice but for all this year. Fucking hell, I can't believe I've actually been this blind, stupid love eyes" you grumbled, facinated by your own realization

"Finally" carmen sighed out, looking at you with a soft smile.

"So, what are you gonna do about it? Has he even contacted you about it?" George asked, propping his elbows on his knees, leant forward in the sofa. "No, he hasn't. He's probably to gushed with some chick down in Ibiza to even see all the notifications and articles. But when he do, well then he's gonna hear it all" Just as on cue your phone started ringing, the tone making you flinch up from the sofa. You didn't touch it, just stared at the phone which showed you Charles contact.

The ringing stopped, replaced by a never ending buzz as he sent you message after message and Carmen sighed

"Do you want us to stay?"

You shook your head "No, it's fine, thank you though, for coming so soon" you smiled, hugging both of them before walking them out the door.

When the door locked it felt like someone poured a bucket with ice-cold water over your head. Fuck.

This was the reality, this was actually happening. A sick feeling settled to your stomach, how could he do this? Why would he do this? Everything had been great, hadn't it?

You swallowed thickly before walking back to the sofa, settling in it, your knees to your chest as you put on the tv, hoping the sounds would distractract your wandering mind.

Soon enough you couldn't ignore your phone anymore, the never ending buzzing and ringinging on boardeline to drive you crazy.

"Yes Charles?" You spat down the phone, drowned by a hundred words at once. He shouted down everything he could down the phone and you could only make out certain words from the blur.

"We are not talking about this on the phone" you cut him off firmly. "Fuck, okay but I'm not home in another few hours, please stay there, I can explain"

"Just stop talking until you're here" you muttered, clicking him off and throwing your phone to the other end of the sofa.

The night was chilly, cold and lonely. Despite your gut feeling, despite his fuck-ups you loved the guy and had done for a long while so to sit here facing the truth that he apparently didn't, or at least didn't care enough to treat you with respect was though, harsh and heartbreaking. To think of everything you'd done for him, all the travels and extra work to get school done whilst supporting him. All the sacrafices and this was how he treated you. It was unfair.

Charles were on your step the first thing the morning after, not reading the situation at all because you were tired. Hadn't slept a wink and not in the mood for an altercation before coffee and breakfast.

But Charles were Charles after all. Storming into your condo and sitting firmly in your sofa like he was protesting before you could.

- "Well then, say what you need to say and then get the fuck out" you spat, the early morning not helping your hurt feelings as you opted to sit in the armchair, far away from him, arms folded over your chest.

He looked nervous as hell but he should be, he fucked up after all and this time it was all on him.

"Well... I just.. I'm really sorry, I-I didn't mean to-to"

"To fucking what Charles? You didn't mean to fuck her or you didn't mean to hurt me?"

"Well, both"

"Ah, how classic, is that all you have to say? You didn't mean too?"

Charles took a deep breath, swallowing all the words, accepting his fate because you were right, he'd fucked up big time, so big this was unfixable regardless of how much he wanted it to be fixable.

"Come on then, defend yourself, say what you needed to say so badly.

Charles bit his bottom lip, something you found annoying at the moment, but used to find so hot. His eyes fleeted around the floor, not daring to meet yours.

"I don't know what to say... I fucked up, okay! I did and I don't know what to say about it, It was a mistake but it happened!" You saw red at his raised voice, his voice accusing like you were the one causing problems, like it was your fault because you didn't forgive him and it made you furious.

"Lower your fucking voice" you growled at him, pinning him with your eyes as you spoke slowly but firmly. "You did fuck up, so bad, to the point were there are no return. I said that, but still you wanted to talk to me and explain. I'm giving you the opportuinty to talk so explain, nicely or leave me the fuck alone"

Another sigh left his mouth as he lowered his gaze again, having the heart to atleast look sheepish. He knew you, he loved you, knew you would never forgive him for this, loved you for that, for having that respect for yourself.

"I just wanna know why, Charles. Why did you cheat? What am I lacking? What needed to change? Was it me? Us? Or are you just an selfish fucking bastard, have you been using me this whole time? Talking me into this. Fuck I should have listened to my gut with Ana"

Charles shook his head quickly, his eyes so big he could be misstaken for an alien. "No, no I haven't used you! I just... I don't know, okay! I can't explain it, you weren't there and my mind didn't work right and it happened. I love you, I really do and I haven't lied-" "Don't fucking say you love me!" you spat at him, standing up, over this conversation since he clearly had nothing of value to say.

"But I do! I really do!" he promsied "Fuck off Charles! If you loved me you wouldn't have treated me like this, you wouldn't have held me in this relationship, built my hopes nor let me make the sacrifices I have done for you, for us! You wouldn't have talked to the media about me like I was worth nothing and you for sure wouldn't have cheated on me, multiply times!" you close to shouted, arms out from your sides in defeat.

"I don't know what you thought to achieve coming here today Charles, talk me into another chance? I don't know, I don't care but this is over" Charles met your glossy eyes, his own glazing over as his head dropped. "I am sorry" he whispered, standing up from the couch and walking towards you. If you had the energy you would move away but you felt drained, drained from all energy and all emotions.

His lips met your temple, forehead resting against the side of your head for a moment before he whispered "I'm sorry" and leaving.

Leaving you and your relationship behind.

yourusename

Liked by maxverstappen1, carmenmundt and 78 893 others

yourusername Life lately 😋

View all comments

Y/nstaan You go girl

F1worlds Y/n in her revenge era 😮‍💨

waags Love her sm, she deserves better

carmenmundt Lovee it!

georgerussell63 Y/nnnn

pierregasly 😮‍💨😮‍💨

#f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #ferrari #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc oneshot #f1 oneshot #scuderia ferrari

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [1]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [2] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 7.4k

status: in progress

author's note: this was supposed to only be an introduction but i ended up with a chapter lol. im sorry if its lame, i wrote this half asleep and for fun. not edited btw

"So like...are we gonna keep staring at the door or do you mind if I open it and walk inside?"

Swiftly turning your neck, you glared at your friend who was patiently waiting for your reply- probably begging on the inside to go in by how badly cold it was outside on this tuesday, new york morning.

"Just go inside by yourself!" you rolled your eyes as she shook her head.

"Uh no, for one- I can't let you be out here alone, some man could just push you in a van and sell you to the black market," Jules declared. "then I would lose one birthday gift from you-"

"I will push you in the van myself if you keep talking," you groaned, her constant rambling within the hours making your nerves worsen.

Today was the day Jules, your best friend, and you began your internship on a film set. Actually, it was yesterday, but nobody really counts the short orientation and hours of reading rules and responsibilities a real productive work day, right?

If having the worst anxiety wasn't enough, you were blessed to have been given an amazing coping mechanism of meditation- in which would've been fine with if you didn't look like a complete idiot standing up with your eyes wide open breathing slowly.

But to be fair, this really was your first day on the job. You didn't know what to expect and your friend wasn't exactly a helping hand in these situations. As she was more confident and outgoing, there you were being an introverted, awkward female with amazing music taste- that is you ever felt comfortable to let people hear your music outside of your headphones.

"I don't get just why you have to pray while staring at the door as if you wanna stare into its soul, you look weird," Jules whined, placing her hand over her eyes. "We have to be at Finn's office in 10 minutes or else we're dead."

"Fine," you huff, grabbing your bag you had placed on the floor beforehand onto your shoulder. "Let's go."

Excitedly clapping her hands together, she swung the door open before dragging you down the hall of the room towards the elevators. The two of you had to meet at a studio on the other side of the city for this internship in which wouldn't be a problem if you enjoyed traffic and the crowds of people on the street- but you didn't.

Not only did you have to take the subway and a cab one hour before your schedule 8am start, you had to deal with the troubles of waking up your night owl roommate, Jules again, without slapping her silly by how strong her eyes stay shut.

After getting off the elevators and walking closer to his office, you recognized a couple of the other interns standing around his door looking either extremely nervous, tired- or both.

Suddenly, the door opened and Finn, the man who hired you, jumped out with a bright smile.

It's way too early to be this energetic.

"How is everyone doing on this lovely, working morning?" Finn smiled, making sure to make eye-contact with every single person in the hall before continuing on with his dialogue. "I'll take this silence as a way you all express your gratitude to be able to work on a live set."

With the ongoing silence still occurring, Finn continued with, "please follow me to the room next door, that's where we'll discuss minor details before heading towards the stages."

The minor details were simple, don't screw up.

There was also little insights on what we should be prepared for- taking care of the cast and errands as the day went on.

I suppose experience is what is needed for your future so it shouldn't be a surprise that you wouldn't be around a camera for too long. But it was mentioned that overtime you would accelerate your learning to harder tasks such as on-hands work, which you were terrified over but within time you would get over it.

You had to, this was a part of your dream job after all.

The group was informed more about the project we had to assist, some new show coming out called 'The Last of Us.' To be honest, you weren't familiar with it. Some of the guys in the group threw in their input that they played the game, but you didn't know it was also a combined franchise.

You weren't exactly a gamer or horror film person.

It hadn't even come to your mind that you would be interacting with real-life celebrities until you made near a stage and felt Jules grip your wrist hard and start tugging on it to get your attention as she tried to quiet her fan girl squeals.

Looking up, you saw a group of people walking through a set with papers in their hand, laughing and chatting with one another. Truth be told, you didn't recognize any of them. Maybe you should have done more research regarding this show you know nothing about- but you heard some successful directors had openings for extra help and immediately called your friend to join with.

"Is it bad that I don't recognize any of these people?" you whisper to Jules as she screeches in low volume, shocked that you would dare say that.

"You're joking right?!" she whispers with a high-pitched voice. "Everybody knows them! They are-"

"Is that him?" you heard a girl whisper from your group, Jules stopping her almost-started rant from it. "He really is daddy."

"What the fuck?" you heard one of the guy interns whisper in confusion, looking at her as if she was delusional as she waved her hand to him to not distract her from her view.

You weren't sure who she was talking about and you really didn't want to know. She probably had some silly crush on one of the actors which would just distract her from her job, it isn't worth it.

"Yo man, why is there a line of people looking like they are held at gunpoint?" one person laughed, pointing at your group as you tried to hold back your laughter.

You were assuming the people around you guys were majority of the cast as nobody else but the camera and makeup crew were present in the room. Surprisingly enough, even after seeing them closer you still couldn't figure out who any of these actors were.

Were you really that outdated in the films you watched?

"Way to introduce yourself, Gabriel," Finn replied, giving a pat on his back before turning back to the group. "These are the new interns because you know, you guys made the last ones quit."

"Uh no I didn't, that was all Nick!" you heard a small child gasp, pointing at an older looking man. He looked a little familiar but you couldn't wrap your head around it. "He made them pick up his food orders all the way across town everyday!"

The familiar-looking man had longer hair than most of the men around. "I would've done delivery if that was an option!" The man complained, making the girl scoff in return.

Hold on, you knew that voice. You grew up with that voice.

"Wait, I do know somebody, that's Ron Swanson" you gasped, completely forgetting how loud and clear you were in your surroundings by how fazed out you were to be a few feet away from a comedic legend.

You didn't know all eyes were on you until you felt Jules heavy weight of her shoulders hit yours as she hid her face in embarrassment from your last statement causing you to look up. Everybody tried holding back their giggles as Nick just smiled proudly.

Great, you just exposed how you didn't know them in front of them. Not mortifying at all.

"Funny and smart for knowing me, I like her already," you heard Nick proudly declare, turning to Finn with a firm nod. "You better not fire her."

Feeling your face getting hotter by the second, you wished you could just hide under a blanket and stay in there forever if it meant you never had to embarrass yourself like that again. This probably looked so disreputable on your part.

"And what might this oblivious, tomato be named?" you heard a man curiously question, getting your attention by his big framed glasses on his face.

Did he just call you a fruit?

"Be nice, you're intimidating them. It's like a new fish in a big pond," an older woman responded after, trying to bring some extra comfort into the room but it was too late- you were traumatized.

"Okay, okay," the man held up his hand in defense before turning to look at you straight in the eye. "What might this unaware, cherry tomato be named? That sounds cuter."

"Uh, y/n," you awkwardly stated, holding your hands together while terribly trying to defend yourself. "And it's totally not like I didn't recognize the rest of you!" you lie, pointing at a random person next to him before speaking up again, "you're in that one brilliant movie that was so good!"

The man sheepishly smiled at you before saying, "I am just one of the cameramen, but thank you. I do get told quite a bit that I look like Brad Pitt." And that was the moment you wanted to die inside.

That's it, you're never coming back here again. You've made a fool out of yourself.

"Stop talking," you heard your friend hiss before taking a step forward to help lessen the attention on you. "I am Jules. Not fashionable like the one from Euphoria, but still very friendly and fun."

The cast all waved at her from her radiating charm that could make anyone adore her. "Thank you, Jules who isn't from Euphoria, why don't everyone else introduce themselves."

After everyone had their time to shine, you were excused for a small break as rehearsal had yet to start. You weren't complaining, you would rather be out getting coffee on the other side of town if that meant you could avoid the actors and directors at all times.

Sitting on one of the break room's couches, you felt Jules jump next to you before hitting your shoulder rapidly. "I think that one girl intern hates you!"

Trying hard to remove her fast hands off you, you gave her a confused look. "Uh why? Was it because I embarrassed us?"

There couldn't be any other reason why she might dislike you, it's not like you knew her personally or had ever met her before the last few days.

"I mean Pedro did call you cute minutes after she called him 'daddy', what do you expect?" She giggled as you gave her a disgusted glance at the last term she used. Why would she call him that and feel comfortable saying it so freely? "She's in loveeee with him."

Pedro? So that was his name.

"First of all, he doesn't think I'm cute. The name 'cherry tomato' was cute rather than a hillbilly tomato," you defended, making her scrunch her face in confusion by your nonsense. "Second, there's no way a normal woman would be that upset over one small indirect comment not made in that way."

Jules rolled her eyes by how understanding you weren't being, it annoyed her even more how oblivious- like the man had said, you were being. "He called you a cherry tomato because it has an adorable ring to it for a cute person! Therefore, he finds you pretty- end of story."

"I am beginning to think you really are delusional."

"All I am saying is be careful," she whispers seriously. "She's young and I know a lot of people who obsess over him for his looks."

"Why? He's like in his 40s-"

"Daddy issues? Gray facial hair? I have no clue what people enjoy on their free time," Jules cut you off, shrugging while you snickered. Like you never heard that excuse before.

"Can we check out the set though? I'm feeling better and want to be out there to prove how unaffected I am from earlier- but I will be hiding behind your back."

"As always," she sang, following you out the door back to the main room.

Walking out, you were determined to stay focused and think before you said something silly- which was hard. Your whole life you've always been a little dumb when reading the environment, that's not gonna change within a few minutes.

Looking through the racks of costumes, tables filled with devices you had never seen before, and cameras that were bigger than yourself, one of the interns, Joon, came up to Jules and you to inform that it was time to actually 'work.'

"Damn, I kinda liked just walking around and doing nothing but stare at the lights. Now we have to get our hands dirty for minimum wage," Jules sighed as the two of you walked in front of one of the stages.

The stage was practically empty, only a few white walls installed and chairs scattered around.

After a few minutes of hearing one of the lead director's assistant discuss the plan of going over a few scenes, it came to your realization that this was only a rehearsal.

It made sense, this building wasn't necessarily a 'survival mode" vibe. Maybe a few indoor scenes would do the job, but it wouldn't be enough for the series.

"I want you to run along with Kendall to grab some snacks, go around the room and see what we're missing and restock!" Finn brightly smiled to Jules before turning to you. "Now, what should I do with you?"

Man, you wished you could replace Kendall right now because now you were alone

"She can help me with the makeup," a lady spoke up from a few feet away. She was a very tall, black-haired woman with a few facial piercings who looked like she was in her middle 20s. "We still need to practice to see how it'll look on the screen this week"

Finn looked at you and back at her before shrugging and nodding. "Works for me." He was already walking away before he turned back around, "but don't let her apply too much, I don't want them looking caked up in front of the camera." Lightly scoffing, you made your way to the girl as he walked away.

Standing there in discomfort, you waited for her to lead you in any type of direction to make this task go by quicker. Makeup was not your thing, or at least when it came to doing someone else's.

"I'm Violet, by the way," the girl smiled kindly at you as she handed you a black apron. "You must be y/n."

Taking the apron, you opened it to find in white writing 'TLOU Crew.' "How'd you know? Did me not knowing the cast spread that fast "

Giggling, she shook her head. "Yes and no," she grabbed one of her many make up bags and began looking through it. "Your name tag."

Looking down, you forgot they had written your name on the sticker during the short-lived meeting with Finn. Redness filled your face as you averted your eyes somewhere else, too embarrassed to make eye-contact.

"Anywho," Violet chuckled while putting one hand on her hip. "I thought maybe I could do my normal routine while you can just do the small stuff like brush their eyebrows or hair."

Squinting your eyes, you just gave her a confused look. "Brush their eyebrows? Work with their hair? Isn't the eyebrows fairly too easy for you to need the help and don't you guys have certified hairstylists?"

"Would you rather do more complicated things like taking their never-ending customized coffee orders?" She replied, making you immediately reject the idea. "I volunteered you to help me because I feel like working on harder tasks your first day would only be stressful."

How thoughtful of her.

"Plus, today's not a complicated schedule-," she added as she began lining her brushes around her small table. "-think of it as a practice run over a few lines, but for multiple scenes. We probably have like max 5 people I need to work on so no need for many artists."

There was another older lady in the other side of the table on her phone, probably another experienced makeup artist who knew the drill.

"Got it, today is a light day," you responded back, causing her to smile and hand you a hairbrush.

"See, you have the right mindset," she declared, nudging her head to the side. "And you better keep it because you have your first clients coming in."

Eyes widening, you swiftly twisted your body to see two young girls and Nick come in. Three people, that shouldn't be hard.

"You better make me look adorable," Nick pointed a finger at you as he sat down on a chair near you, causing you to let out a shy laugh as Violet motioned you to come closer.

"I'm going to prep his skin, go to Bella and Nico and ask them to do the same," she advised. "They usually do it themselves on these days to make the process faster."

Nodding you walked to the two young girls, not knowing which was who. The girls were chatting with each other before one with big curls noticed your presence before smiling brightly. "Skin routine, huh? Don't worry, we were about to begin."

Immediately, you noticed her beautiful accent that caused you to stare at her in shock.

"Looks like you frightened her," the other girl laughed, making you glance at her right after. They both had the strong accent.

"Sorry!" you blush, trying to avert your eyes away from them. "I just never heard a British accent- or at least one in person before."

The first girl giggled, waving her hand as a way to prove she didn't mind. "We get that all the time when we visit, it's okay- I never really hear your accent unless I am working on a new project."

"I don't have an accent- you have one," you declare, causing them to laugh harder.

"You seem really amazed by it, is it because you fantasize over Harry Potter or something?" the second girl jokingly questioned, making you chuckle.

"I wish, but I only watched one of his movies and never read the books," you sigh before continuing. "But one of my favorite bands are British so I just get a little loss for words whenever I hear one. It's such a beautiful tone- not to be weird or anything!"

"I agree, New Yorker's just sound so...angry," the first girl shivered. "Which band are you into? Maybe we know them"

"The 1975-"

"Aww, did you do your research on me to make up for earlier," you heard a voice boost through the area. Turning around, you noticed it was the man who called you a tomato, Pedro.

He gave you a cheeky smirk with a look in his eyes as if he knew torturing you will never get old- unless of course you started crying.

"No, you idiot-," the second girl rolled her eyes as he sent her a playful glare for the insult. "-she's talking about the band."

"Wait, you were born in 1975?" you lightly asked, your mind all scrambled in your heard trying to figure out how old he would be now. "that m-

"Yes, I am old!" Pedro fake cried, holding his heart with his hand. "You don't need to remind me that these wrinkles will never go away."

"Well if you had a prepped your skin throughout the years your skin would have been as smooth as a baby's butt like mine," you heard Nick comment from his chair, eyes closed as Violet just laughed in agreement while applying sunscreen on his face.

Pedro just rolled his eyes as the first girl began talking again. "By the way, I love the 1975! Never seen them live though, but they are definitely on my playlists."

You smiled, already feeling comfortable within the environment. Maybe being alone wasn't going to be that terrible.

"I heard he makes out with fans during his concerts," the second girl scrunched her nose in disgust. "Isn't he worried he would end up catching something."

"He probably gets check ups all the time, Bella," the first girl commented, or you suppose Nico since you now know which one was Bella.

"I would catch any disease if it meant I got to kiss Matty Healy for five seconds," you replied, causing the girls to stare at you in astonishment that you just said that so freely.

Maybe talking about your favorite band is slowly making you more confident?

You heard Violet let out a loud laugh as Nick disagreed, saying something about how young girls are too adventurous nowadays but it was true. Matt Healy was a very attractive man whose kiss could probably heal heartaches.

"Isn't he like in his 30s? Aren't you a little too young to be kissing an older man like him?" Violet questioned, making you shrug.

"Maybe I have a thing for older men."

"Wouldn't call a guy who constantly makes out with fans a man," Pedro snorted. "That's a boy."

Nick hummed in agreement as you suppressed a laugh. "How old are you anyway?"

Standing up straight you stared at him and he did the same back. "Guess."

"That never ends up good," Violet chuckled before examining you up and down. "But 18."

Shaking your head, you were young but not that young. At least your skin still made you look like a teenager, god bless.

"25," Bella answered in which you denied that as well.

"29" Nico tried but was wrong.

Nick sat up from his seat to really figure out your age before easily answering "32" and becoming shocked when you denied it. "Woah, are we at least going in the right direction?"

"Violet was headed there."

Pedro sat up in shock at your response. "You're a teenager?!"

"Would it be so wrong if I was?" you questioned. "I would love to live longer."

"She's 21," the other makeup artist who was long forgotten during this conversation casually spoke up, eyes lifting from her phone. The rest of us just stared at her as she did the same back, confused. "What? She fantasizes over an older man but is doing an internship- sounds like what every 21 year-old does."

Gasping, you held a hand over your mouth as everyone laughed at how accurate she was. She was indeed right, but you wouldn't necessarily call your crush on Matty Healy a fantasy- just a strong imagination of being his lifelong lover that would probably never happen because he doesn't know you exist.

"She's right, huh" Nico spoke up as she noticed you didn't fight back.

"Sadly."

After that whole fiasco trying to find out your real age, Violet began working on Pedro after she finished with Nick. Nico and Bella were almost done with their makeup with the other artist when Violet called you over.

Walking towards the chair, you noticed that she had already finished his base with an extremely natural look, not wanting to add too much or it wouldn't look realistic.

"Can you brush his brows and apply some powder on places that need it? I need to finish Bella off with a few final touches," Violet asked, in which you nodded as she pointed to the products needed to do so. "Don't worry if you mess up, it doesn't need to be perfect."

That didn't make you feel any better.

Standing awkwardly as she walks off, you searched around her overload of makeup table to grab the items she just pointed at.

You decided to do his eyebrows first which would be extremely weird because you've never done this before- or at least to a man.

Surprisingly, Pedro hadn't teased you at all since you arrived by his side to help. He actually just laid there silent and watched Violet direct you through her moves before she left.

Maybe he was cutting you a break for once.

You were proven wrong when you leaned forward and aimed your hand towards his face before he quickly tried biting your hand, causing you to squeal and drop the brush on his face, jumping back.

"Very unprofessional," he declared, picking up the brush that had fallen down from his face to his neck up before looking up at you. "Do you hit all of your clients?'

"You did that on purpose!" you glared, smacking his arm as he sent you a playful wink.

"And what are you gonna do about it? Tell on me?" he teased until you grabbed the brush from his hands and swiped it across his brows hard, causing him to hiss in pain. "God damn, woman!"

Laughing as he gripped his forehead area, he gave you a dirty look as you begin the process of patting his face, even hitting his face a little harder than usual in some spots to make sure you got your revenge.

Once done, you examined his face to make sure you were pleased with the results- in which you were.

"All done?' Violet asked, walking up beside you, checking out your work. "Nicely done, but why does he look grumpy?" she added, as he huffed. "and why is he holding his face?"

"Who knows?" you shrug as Pedro scoffs, watching you walk away as Violet calls out afterwards that you were free to go.

As you were walking back to find where the rest of the interns were, you turned your head to find Pedro's eyes still on yours. You gave him an evil smirk as he pointed his finger at you before swiping his thumb across his neck.

You giggled, about to respond back but you were interrupted when a hand tapped your shoulder. Turning around, you find that it was two of the interns, Joon and the girl who was supposedly in love with Pedro, her name tag claiming she was Kendall.

Was this the girl that Jules went did her errands with? Most likely.

"Are you done with the makeup? We need help arranging the equipment for what's gonna be used today," Joon softly smiled as Kendall just stared at you with no emotion.

Nodding, you followed after them as they walked towards the other side of the set. Soon, you had forgotten about the actor and your little battle as endless wires and heavy weights distracted you.

It wasn't till you physically couldn't bare holding the strong stands that the three of you were told you could take a lunch break. Pulling out your phone, you hadn't realized half the day had went by with all the work you were too engaged in.

"You wanna grab lunch with us? We were thinking about going to this small cafe down the street, the reviews look great," Joon asked as Kendall just sent you a small nod in agreement.

The three of you got along pretty well during the hours you spent together. You feel closer to Joon as he did talk the most, but Kendall did try to start little talks so it wouldn't be weird.

I mean we all kind had to get along in order for this job to work.

"I would but I should look for my friend-"

"I think she had her lunch already, I saw her walking by earlier eating a burrito," Kendall replied. Of course she ate already.

Going over the idea in your head a few times, you nodded. You were starving and you suppose its better to not be a loner right now. "Why not?"

As the three of you walked through the set, you didn't miss some of the glances you guys received as your footsteps were pretty loud. It looked like they were wrapping up on one of the scenes as the director was in deep focus on whatever he was lecturing to them on.

"I hope you guys like walking because I took a cab here," Joon chuckled, causing you to laugh.

"Don't worry, I did the same."

Putting on your big coat, you waited until Kendall was done tying the scarf around her neck before walking towards the exit. Close to the door, you halted when you heard someone call your name.

"Y/n!" you saw Bella jogging towards you making Joon and Kendall freeze their movements.

Shifting slowly, you gave her a curious look. "Yes?"

"We wanted to know if you wanted to have lunch with us?" she smiled before looking behind you to find the two others. "You guys can come too!"

Swinging your arms in front of you, you reject her offer as fast as she asked you. "Oh no, no- I'm all good," you decline, not wanting to feel like a bother. "You guys enjoy your own thing-"

"C'mon, how else are we gonna tease Pedro if you aren't there to get him riled up first?" she chuckled as you felt your face on fire.

"Maybe next time?" you kindly suggest, watching as she pouts but nods.

Lifting her right hand up, she sways it around. "Alright, but don't be surprised if Pedro haunts you because of this."

"Why would he?" you heard Kendall quickly question, making Bella tilt her head at her fast counter.

"Because he's the one who asked me to invite her-." Bella casually states before turning to you. "-which you declined so I hope he teases you all week for leaving Nico and I hanging."

Ignoring the first part of her last statement, you playfully nudge her before waving your goodbyes as she skips back to the rest of the cast. Beginning your walk to the cafe, the three of you had little talk about where you grew up, which schools you attended, and why you wanted to work for the film industry.

If it weren't for the freezing temperatures you would say you really enjoyed the walk, too bad you couldn't.

It wasn't until you were seated that Kendall decided to speak her mind on what she was really curious about:

You.

"So, I wonder why Pedro specifically asked you to join him for lunch and not the rest of us?" she randomly revealed as you were taking a sip of your coffee, almost choking on it once you heard her clearly. "Do I sense favoritism?"

Joon stifled a laugh, shaking his head at her last comment. "Doubt it, but I did wonder the same thing until I realized she did help with their makeup. That's intimate enough to make her at some level close to them."

You don't really know Kendall but she's been decent enough to be around until the cast comes to mind. Maybe she wants to be close to them? You're not sure, maybe Jules was right about her all along- who knows.

What you did know though was she was very quick to question and jump to conclusions.

"What did you even talk to them about?" Kendall eyed you, making you tense up a bit. She is very intimidating when she's curious.

"Nothing much-,' you shrug, messing with the napkin in front of you. "Mainly about the 1975 since the girls are British."

"You like the 1975?" Joon asked and you nodded. "I love them!"

Ears perking up after hearing this, you smiled hard. This new information just made Joon 10x better.

"I don't know who they are," Kendall intervened, trying to find some voice in the topic.

The rest of the hour was filled with Joon and you playing the 1975's albums to Kendall as she tried her best to hide her annoyance by shoving her food in her face.

She was definitely not a fan of talent.

Going back to work was a bit easier than before after finding comfort with a lot of the people around you. The three of you were still stuck doing the same job as you heard some of the other interns were either picking up props needed for a scene or being a personal assistant to Finn.

In fact, you hadn't seen many people as rehearsal was moved to another building on the lot. Another hour or two went by before Finn went up to Joon and you to cut you for the day.

"At least we don't have to stay late," Joon beamed, taking off the gloves he was wearing before folding them back into his little backpack. "I heard he's making some people stay till 6 for some heavy-lifting duties- thank god I wasn't chosen."

"Why? Because you aren't strong enough?" you laughed as he let out a small gasp in offense.

"To think we were becoming best friends," he pouted. "But I had a back injury over a year ago so they can't really make me lift anything more than 30 pounds."

Feeling bad for teasing him, you immediately tried taking back your horrible joke. "I didn't mean t-"

"It's cool, no need to beg for forgiveness," he smiled. "Just a little something I don't tell many people, it isn't a big deal majority of the time."

Throwing a weak- but sincere smile, you nod along. Sure it wasn't a big deal right now, but later it could get worse. You didn't want him to know you felt bad but you assumed he knew by the pity upon your face.

Waving your goodbyes, you texted Jules to figure out where she was. It was a strange feeling not seeing each other all day despite working in the same building, but you did live together so it wasn't like you were missing much.

Finding her fake laughing at some guy's joke, her eyes met yours once you appeared by the door of the break room. Immediately, she patted the young boy who didn't look a day over 18 on the back before skipping happily towards you.

"I take it you had a fun day?"

"The best," she grinned, flipping a piece of hair behind her back. "I finally know what an affogato is- it really isn't that amazing as it sounds though. Just a shot of espresso poured on top of a drink."

Laughing, both of you continued down the hall in hopes of quickly finding a cab to take you to the subway. With the timing of your release, you were sure there was going to be so much traffic out these doors that you weren't ready to deal with.

Swinging the exit door open, you didn't expect to find Joon waiting outside with his hands in his pockets, looking down the street praying for an available cab to drive by.

"That hard to catch a ride, huh" Jules sighed, pulling out her phone as Joon slumped, bummed out. "Uber it is."

Seconds later you felt the doors behind you open again but didn't bother to turn, Joon and you too focused on peeking at Jules' phone as she complained about why an app that was supposed to be used when in need always took forever to arrive.

Two people walked a few feet to the side of you three and that's when you could see from the corner of your eye their figures stopping. Moving your head, you caught a view of a man scanning his phone and another glancing at you. It was Pedro.

"And what are you doing out here in the cold, you look like a chihuahua shivering to death," he chuckled, taking steps towards you.

"Is that a compliment?" you questioned, tilting your head as he gave you a smug look, making you guess for yourself.

"Pretty sure he's means you look like a rodent," Jules dryly commented, swiping through her phone before groaning loudly. "Goddammit! The nearest driver is 25 minutes away, I don't want to be waiting that long for a ride that's probably gonna be my whole day's pay."

Realizing the situation you and your friends were in, Pedro lifts a hand trying to get attention. "You guys need a ride? I drove here and-"

"No thank-," you intervene.

"-yes, please," Jules cuts you off, sending you a small glare as you gave one back.

You were not going to ask someone you met just this morning for a ride home. It's too much.

Pedro laughed at the sight of you two yelling at each other through your minds. Telepathy really works when it comes to your friends. Joon just stood there, not really caring what decision we came to terms with. He figured since Jules and you stayed with him long enough he could join along with whatever you two did, so it was up to you guys to make the final move.

"Okay, don't kill each other," Pedro joked, making you move your eyes away from Jules back to him. "How about I drive you three home and you can help me with my makeup this week- so you won't feel like you're taking too much from me."

Squinting, you made a face. "But I already have to do that- it's part of my job."

"She agreed! Let's go," Pedro exclaimed, waving his right arm to you guys to follow him, ignoring you as you tried to debate as to why doing your job wasn't helpful enough.

As Jules kept trying to shut your mouth by placing her palms on it during the walk inside the parking garage, Joon kept looking back confused. "Wait, what about the man? Was he leaving with you?"

Taking a quick glance towards the direction Joon was looking at, Pedro shrugged before pulling out his car keys. "His wife is picking him up."

Joon slowly nodded, not completely convinced that was the case but he'd let it go this time.

Hearing a car beep, you saw a very nice black car's light flash quickly. Walking up closer, Pedro went to the passenger side and opened it while staring at you. "Get in, loser."

Awkwardly standing there, you shook your head and look towards the backseat. "Uh, no- I'm fine with sitting in the back. Maybe Joon can have it since he is the tallest one here."

Joon shook his head. "I'm happy with sitting in the back, ladies first."

Pedro agreed with his last comment, lifting his head to get in the car as you continued to reject his kindness. He already offered you a ride home, you weren't able to take the front seat.

You both continued to fight about the seat before Jules flapped her arms and jumped inside instead. "We are not going to argue for hours over a seat, I'll take it."

Lowering your shoulders, you smiled as Pedro sent you a displeased look. Heading towards the door, Joon opened the door for you, kindly sending you a warm smile. You returned one back and moved to the seat behind the drivers.

Joon followed after you and sat behind Jules as you could see Pedro speed walk around the car, quickly jumping in. He turned towards the back, glancing at the two of you. "Where to?"

"Jules," you called out. She pulled out her phone and showed it to him before saying, "this is it."

"City girls," he blurted out. "The rats on the streets must be a sight to see."

"Let me see?" Joon asked before her phone was shoved to his face. "Hey, I live three streets away from here. Nice."

"We're basically neighbors," you nudged him, making him do the same as Pedro and Jules just stared at the both of you.

"Anyway," Pedro let out a small laugh, "let's go before I change my mind."

Putting the car in reverse, drive, and zooming off, we were on our way. The ride was filled with Jules playing with the radio, Pedro nicely trying to get her fingers off his screen, and Joon calling out the different trees he'd seen out the window the entire time.

At one point Joon even handed you his phone and asked for your number in case either of you needed help with the internship or the cheesy joke of one of you needing sugar in the middle of night.

Once he was dropped off, it took less than ten minutes to arrive to your apartment building.

"You can just pull in right there," Jules declared, pointing at an open spot in front of our lobby doors.

Taking a quit scan, you objected. "No, that's for emergencies only. Just go around the block, we can walk."

Jules protested, pleading Pedro to not give in to your nonsense. "This is an emergency- I want to go home already!"

"It's a red line; therefore, no parking."

Pedro laughed as you raised your voice, determined to not let him get away with this. You were not about to pay for a ticket just because she couldn't walk a few feet...and then a few more to get home.

"Is she always this stubborn?" Pedro jested, earning a hard raise of the eyebrows from Jules.

"You should see her when we study. If you aren't there on time you're kicked out of the discord." Smacking her arm, she huffs and smacks you back.

"I need to be apart of this discord," Pedro stated, making you roll your eyes.

"It's for students only, grandpa," you replied, causing him to gasp.

"That's not how you should treat someone who gave you a ride across town, intern," he retorted and pulled up along the red crub, making Jules laugh as you sent him a dirty look.

So he's pulling that card.

Jules opened her side of the door, stepping out before grabbing her bag and leaning down against the window. "Welp, I am going inside before he personally fires me for befriending you. See you inside and thanks Mr. man who can still get me fired even though he's not my boss!"

Next thing you knew, she was opening the entrance doors and sliding right inside them. It was time for you to go as well.

You could see him grab his phone, unlocking it, and then placing it right in front of your face. "Give me your number."

Scoffing, you pushed his hand away. "Not even going to ask?"

"We both know you're too difficult to easily agree to a question like that," he countered, pushing it back towards you, not leaving until you accepted it.

Was it unprofessional to be giving the main lead of a new television series your personal number? Maybe a lot of people do it, you mean there are plenty of workers who end up friends with cast members all the time on sets.

You're sure these workers have given their numbers away on multiple occasions.

Handing him back his phone, he grinned. "Great, now I can directly reach you whenever I need coffee."

"Only during work hours," you replied, shaking your pointer finger at him. "I don't get paid overtime unless I am on the clock."

He chuckled, twisting his body to get a better view of you. "Yeah, yeah. We'll see about that."

With that, he jumped out of the car and opened your car door, allowing you to step outside and be met with the freezing temperatures once again.

How much you hate the cold when its windy.

"See you tomorrow, kid," he scanned over, waiting for you to comeback with some snarky remark for his pet name.

Stepping away from his car and meeting the sidewalk, you turned around towards him to find him leaning against his door now, watching you to make sure you make it inside safely.

"Same with you- thanks for the ride, grandpa," you smirked, making him suppress a laugh as you turned your back to him again, making your way to the entrance doors.

Two feet away, you stopped when you heard him chant out your name. Seeing him inside his car with his passenger window rolled down, he tried his hardest to move his head against it to see you. "By the way," he started, "you don't look like a rodent."

Feeling flustered by the random yet sweet compliment, you tried hiding your big smile by waving him off, trying to hide your face with your hands and sped walked inside.

You hoped he didn't see the tint on your cheeks.

Unfortunately, your hopes never come true.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x ofc #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x y/n #joel miller #joel miller x reader

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 1)

Summary: Y/N tags along to a bonfire on the beach with her brother and his friends. She tries to fit in with them, but winds up finding more of a connection to the guy crashing the party. 

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Square: Age gap @spnfluffbingo Meet cute @spnaubingo “Are you stupid or stupid?” 

Word Count: 3,374 

Warnings: underage, age gap (reader is 16, Dean is 20 but closer to 21), underage drinking, mostly implied physical abuse, past injury (bruising/scars), language, slow burn, a little angst, arguing, maybe a little gaslighting, mutual pining, a kiss to the forehead, fluff 

A/N: Also written for @spnfluffbingo and @spnaubingo. 

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A/N #2: Masterlist summary and warnings have been updated. Please review before reading. 

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Your brother grabbed your arm and roughly yanked you back towards the party going on down the beach. "Stop being such a bitc-" 

"Ow! Quit it, jerk." You tried to shake your arm from his grasp but his fingers dug in, "You're hurting me." 

"Don't be such a baby," he growled, stopping far enough away from the bonfire so the crowd of his friends wouldn't overhear. There was a chill in the air and his friends were gathered closer around the flames now. "I told you, if you wanted to tag along you can't just wander off by yourself. Mom would have my ass if something happened to you on my watch." 

"Screw you, I'm not a baby. Let. Go." 

He finally did. 

"They're all ignoring me. I wanna go home." You said, pointing to the mean girls a ways away. 

"Well, I'm not taking you. I'm not ready to leave yet." He said, crossing his arms over his chest with a glare. 

You knew it was a mistake taking a ride from him in the first place, but you didn't have your own car. And you failed your driver's test over the last weekend. Fun way to spend your sixteenth birthday, with your brother mocking you the whole way home. 

"Then I'll walk or call mom to come get me." 

"No, you won't. Unless you want her to know that I was right and you are a baby." He stared you down, "Just have a drink and relax for a bit, maybe it'll loosen you up and people will want to talk to you." He glanced back at the busty blonde he'd been eyeing all night; the girl you knew he came here for. He'd only been following her around like a lost puppy all summer. She waved and gave him a little wink. "Stop being so selfish, Y/N, and maybe we'll get along for once." 

"I'm selfish?!" You scoffed, you'd only sat around watching the sunset and shuffling your feet in the sand for the past couple hours while he chatted up said blonde. His friends weren't the only ones excluding you. Not that you wanted to be in on that conversation, but you thought the night was going to go a little different. You thought it would be like the old days when things between you weren't so tense all the time. "Just leave me alone and go drool already."

"And you wonder why I never wanna hang out with you anymore." He snapped and stalked away, throwing his arm over the blonde's shoulders when he reached her. Her eyes gleamed in the firelight and you heard her giggle echo along the shoreline when he tickled her sides. 

Everyone liked your brother and you tried to be just like him when you were younger. You were only a year apart but it made a world of difference. You didn't even mind wearing his hand-me-downs until you got to high school and got made fun of for it. But you made your peace with it now, you'd always be more of a tomboy and you couldn't be anyone but yourself. Graphic tees, jeans and sneakers were the epitome of comfort and that's what you wore now while the mean girls had skimpy dresses and tank tops that did nothing against the cold breeze that wafted in from over the open water. 

But a drink might help. 

The beer cooler was up the beach from the horny seventeen and eighteen-year-olds, but you didn't have to pass them to fish one out from melted ice. You cracked it open and took a sip, souring your face instantly and spitting it out onto the sand. 

You heard someone chuckle and whipped around. A tall guy with shadows cast on his face stood a few feet away, watching you. You glanced down to the bottle in your hand, then back at him. He followed your eyes, his expression turning stoic before you could read him. 

"What?" You asked. 

"It's kind of an acquired taste." He nodded towards the bottle in your hand and you took another sip, choking it down to prove him wrong. He wasn't wrong. Beer was gross. "Are you okay?" 

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" 

He cocked his head towards your brother who was now chasing the blonde down towards the shoreline. You didn't think they'd go in, since it was nearly winter and the water was freezing this time of year. But he teased her and grabbed her like he was going to drag her out into the icy depths. 

"Oh. Yeah, he's just an asshole is all and I needed a drink." You explained, raising the beer to your lips for a third sip. 

You wanted him to leave already so you could dump the rest out in the bushes. 

"Same," he nodded and chugged the rest of his own beer. "He shouldn't treat you like that, though." 

You didn't think he overheard but he'd certainly seen the two of you, "He's my brother, that's what brothers do." 

You toyed with the label on your beer, peeling it back from the glass. 

"No, it's not." 

He stepped forward, setting his empty bottle in the bin next to the cooler. The light of the bonfire catching his features enough for you to finally see him. The first thing you noticed was that he was not a friend of your brother's. He was older, too, though you couldn't tell by how much. 

He was a party crasher. Probably here for the free beer. 

"Whatever. It's not like he hits me, he just gets mad and pushes me around a little." You said, stepping back a foot when the guy took another step towards you. 

"He shouldn't. That's called abuse." 

"Not when I do the same to him. Then it's called sibling rivalry." 

"I know abuse when I see it." His voice lowered as he shoved his hands in his pockets. His words held a story he wasn't telling and you didn't ask. 

You eyed him again. Between the full moon and the light of the fire you noted a few details that jumped out at you. He wasn't bad looking, actually kind of cute. His eyes held a world's worth of emotion as if he vaulted it up inside himself and swallowed the key. Days old bruising covered the left side of his face, particularly around his jaw, cheekbone, and eye. And he intermittently sucked on the split in his bottom lip that had reopened, probably from when he first smiled at you. 

"Well, your story isn't mine." You said, having had enough of this stranger who thinks he knows your life at a glance. He sighed and looked away, steeling his jaw and rubbing the back of his neck. Your eyes cast down to his stomach when his shirt lifted and your heart sank at the sight. A thick scar stretched up his torso from his hip and disappeared beneath the dark fabric of his shirt, peeking back out around his collarbone where the neck hole had been worn loose. Someone had hurt him, badly; you thought that must've been why he was so conscious towards abuse. "Sorry, I didn't know-" 

"Do you wanna go for a walk?" He asked, meeting your eyes and taking another step forward. 

You didn't back away this time, though he was still a good five feet away at least. 

"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea, taking off with some judgy guy I just met and wandering down a dark secluded beach alone with him. Real smart. Maybe wait until I've had a couple drinks first, then try again." You rolled your eyes making him laugh silently. 

"I don't hurt women. Ever." He said as if it was a law of his own. 

"What about men?" 

"Depends," he shrugged. 

"On?"

"I've never started a fight in my life." He said, answering a question you didn't ask rather than the one you did. 

"Somehow I don't believe you." You squinted up at him, trying to read him. 

"Then why haven't you walked away yet?" He looked at the party continuing around the bonfire and then back at you. "You don't wanna be here any more than I do, so let me show you something."

"I swear if that something is your-" 

He raised his hands from his pockets and smiled, "I promise it's not. You'll like this." 

"You get five minutes and I'm counting. Also, I'm a black belt so don't even think about trying anything." You lied, although he didn't strike you as the violent type despite the evidence on his face and stomach. 

You scanned the beach for your brother, spotting him still engrossed with the blonde, so you knew he wouldn't notice any time soon if you'd left without causing a scene. You dumped your nearly full beer out onto the sand and set it in the bin with the other empty bottles. Ignoring the knowing smirk from the party crasher as you did so. 

"Beer is kind of gross." 

"Yeah, it is." He chuckled, "but it's cheap and gets the job done." 

"I don't see the appeal," you said, following in stride with him down the beach. The sand beneath your sneakers making it hard to keep up with his long legs. "Can you walk slower?" 

"Sorry," he slowed his pace and you easily caught up. "Drink a bit more than a couple of sips next time and you will." 

"I'd rather waste the calories on chocolate, thank you." 

He laughed silently again and sucked the split in his lip, "What's your name?" 

"Uh, Y/N, you?" 

"Dean." He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets again. "So, how come I haven't seen you around here before, Y/N?" 

"We just moved here," you said, not wanting to explain how you didn't exactly get out much and explore the town over the summer. 

"Then you haven't been to the pier?" He asked, cocking his head towards the end of the beach where you were headed. 

It wasn't so much a pier as it was a small row of shops and a parking lot. Some storefronts were still lit up against the darkened sky and a lighthouse sat on the rocks near the shore. The light at the top swung around and around over the jagged rocks reaching into the water. 

"Seriously? You wanted to show me a lighthouse? That's not exactly special. Lighthouses are a dime a dozen around here, if you haven't noticed." You said a little disappointed and glancing back at the party. 

The bonfire merely a speck amongst the stars along the beach now. If you accounted for the walk back it would definitely stretch over the five minutes you'd promised him and you stopped walking. 

Dean noticed when you fell behind and turned to you. He laughed a little and smiled, "That's not where we're going." 

He reached out to you and grabbed your hand, tugging you gently until you laughed and skipped a step. He was troubled, that was for sure, but you didn't have a reason not to trust him. Not that trust should be given easily without question; but still, you welcomed the warmth of his hand wrapped around yours as he led you across the parking lot and up to one of the shops. 

"Ice cream," you stared up at the sign before Dean pulled you into the store. 

"Mhm," he licked his lips, guiding you up to the display of tubs sitting in the freezer and separating you from the older blonde woman behind the counter. 

She nodded to Dean like she knew him and he smiled back, "Hey, Donna." She didn't react at all to the bruises on his face and your mind started to wander. 

"I was starting to think I wasn't gonna see ya before closing," she said, retying her pink apron as if she was getting ready to close up for the night. 

"You know me better than that," he feigned hurt and wrapped an arm over your shoulders, tugging you into his side. 

You scanned over the flavours, some so bright you wondered if it was possible to taste a colour. "Isn't it kinda cold for ice cream?"

"Never," Dean shook his head like you'd said something foolish. "These shops are seasonal and it's the last night they're open until they close for the winter. You'll have to wait at least four months before you get this again. And trust me, once you try it, winter will feel like an eternity for your tastebuds." 

You smiled, you couldn't argue with that logic, "What flavour should I get?" You asked, assuming he'd probably have tried them all by the looks of it. 

"My favourite is the mocha with all the little chocolate pieces. It's basic, I know, but classic." He pointed to a tub filled with dark brown speckled ice cream. 

"Two mochas, please." You said. 

"Sure thing," Donna said and scooped you out a couple of cups. 

Dean gave your shoulder a squeeze before giving you some space to enjoy your ice cream.  

He kept eyeing you as you took your first bite, then your second, "And?"

"Okay, you're right. It's fudging amazing! Can we get more?" You asked, glancing back at the shop from where you sat outside on a bench under a streetlamp. 

"You still have a whole cup.” He barked out a laugh and you shovelled a few spoonfuls into your mouth. 

A chilled throb wracked through your brain and you paused mid-bite to squeeze your eyes shut and fan at your frozen mouth. You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth and just as the feeling started to ebb away you felt hot, sticky lips lay flush against your forehead. Dean’s hand held the back of your head and you blinked open your eyes, feeling warm and fuzzy. 

"Better? My mom used to do that for me when I was a kid. Always seemed to help." He said and tilted his head to the side. 

You weren't sure if it was what he did or the shock of the unexpectedness of it, but it dulled the pain. He hadn't backed up an inch and you could see the gold flecks in his green eyes under the streetlamp. Framed by the yellow edges and purple patches of the bruising next to his left eye. His hair was sandy brown and short but still fell over his forehead and brushed the tips of his ears. And freckles speckled across the bridge of his nose on pale skin. He was pretty cute and different from most of the boys you usually met. 

You nodded and blushed, sneaking another spoonful of mocha ice cream between your lips. He laughed silently and leaned back, picking back up his own cup of ice cream from the bench next to him and digging in. 

"You're strange and kinda wonderful." You said around a bite full, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth when the brain-freeze threatened to come back. 

"That's oddly the nicest thing someone's said to me in a very long time." He took a bite and licked his spoon clean. 

"That makes me sad." 

"Makes me happy," he mumbled and smiled. 

"Like I said, strange." 

"Because you're so cool and composed, right?" He's teased, pointing with his spoon. 

"I'm a delight and you know it. That's why you just had to get me away from all those other guys down on the beach. Before they had the chance to notice too, of course." You joked, brushing your hair back when the breeze carried it away. 

"You caught me, I'm a sucker for a girl who tries to bite my head off with one wrong look." 

"You make me sound like a praying mantis." 

"In that case, I guess I'm safe as long as we don't have sex." You both frowned. "Sorry, that was awkward, I swear it sounded funnier in my head. Because you know they only eat their mate after-uh-mating..." He stuck his spoon in his ice cream and stirred until it was smooth like soup, "What?"

"You're blushing," you said, "it's cute." You liked being able to do that to him. "But you should know I'm sixteen." 

"Wait. What?" He looked like you'd just punched him in the gut. "But you were drinking." 

"When did you have your first beer?" 

He thought to himself for a moment, clearly he had been younger than you; then he abandoned his ice cream on the bench beside him. “What about your friends?” 

"Some are eighteen. But most are seventeen, same as my brother, they're his friends." You explained. "Don't ask me how they got the beer." You attempted to lighten the mood but he just stared down at his hands, rubbing at the cuts in his knuckles. "How old are you?" 

“Too old for you,” he shook his head and picked at one of the scabs. “Twenty-one in January.” 

So essentially there was a five year age gap between you. It wouldn’t be a big deal, if only you were older; but for now it didn’t mean you couldn’t be friends. Your gut twisted at the thought of never seeing him again and you could use a friend; and it looked like he could, too. 

Your cell rang and you fished it from your back pocket. Your brother's name sprawled over the screen. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes, then answered, "What do you want?"

"Are you stupid or stupid? Where the fuck did you go?!" He shouted and you were sure Dean could hear, so you turned down the volume on your phone. 

"For a walk." 

"We're leaving." 

That meant the blonde was tagging along, either hitching a ride home with you or your brother was just going to drop you off at home before taking her to park somewhere and... -You didn't want to think about it. Your brother, like that. Gross. 

"Maybe I don't wanna leave yet. I made a friend." Dean mirrored your smile. 

"Find your own way home then..." he grumbled a few choice words and hung up. Asshole.

"Any chance you have a car?" You asked, silencing your phone and shoving it back into your pocket. "I need a ride." 

"Uh- no. But I know where we can get one." Dean said as he checked the time on his wrist. You fingered your ice cream and booped him on the nose. "What was that for?" He laughed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. 

You shrugged, "Just trying to lighten the mood. You look so sad," you raised his chin with your fingers, "Chin up, Dean." 

"Did you mean that?" He asked. 

You lowered your hand to rest on the bench between you, "Mean what?"

"That we're friends," he asked, chewing on the split in his lip. At this rate you didn't think it would ever heal over. "I mean, that we can be friends." 

"Uh-huh, unless you don't wanna be my friend." You nodded and searched his eyes, some kind of hurt flashing through them. 

"I think that's all we can be. At least, until you have a couple more birthdays." 

Your typical luck, the one guy you could see yourself interested in and he's too old. It was only nearly five years, sure, but you were only sixteen and he'd probably had a lot more experience that you couldn't compare to. But he was cute. 

Window shopping couldn't hurt right, until you had the means to buy. 

"I can wait," you teased and laughed. "But you look like you could use a friend. And I got your back, since I kind of owe you one for introducing me to this ice cream." 

"You don't owe me anything, Y/N." 

You shivered when the ice cream was gone and Dean stripped out of his hoodie, draping it over your shoulders as you walked along the side of the road towards his house. He apparently didn't live far away and if his father was home, he could 'borrow' his car to give you a ride. He actually used air quotes when he said borrow though, so you were a little skeptical. 

_________________________

Part 2

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers @globetrotter28

#spnfluffbingo2022 #spnaubingo #au!dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x #spn fanfic #dean winchester #dean x #au!dean winchester #supernatural reader insert

[half-oz-eddie]

Billy Hargrove wasn't the type to stay with anyone for more than a day. He'd never even stay overnight.

He'd fucked enough of the cute girls in the school for rumors to spread. "Big dick Billy" "Hung Hargrove" "Mr. Fuck and Duck" all kinds of things were said about Billy in the hallways.

Not all of the rumors were flattering though. "Billy's a liar." "He says he'll call but he never does." "He'll make you feel like you're the only one, but you never are."

After the first 3 girls tried to confront him, none ever bothered to do it again. All he would ever do was humiliate them in front of the whole school, anyway, with harsh comments about the sex, or how boring their personalities are.

He even made one of the cheerleaders cry.

Steve thought he was cruel, stringing girls along for a little bit, but letting them down easy because he wasn't serious. Billy, on the other hand, let these girls know they didn't mean a goddamn thing. They were just another notch in his belt.

Maybe Billy's just an asshole, Steve considered at first, but after a whirlwind of weird situations forced Billy and Steve to be around each other (thanks, upside down, and the freaky creatures it unleashes), Steve noticed some things about Billy that a lot of people may not even pay attention to.

Billy's not cruel, and he's not a liar. If he says he's got your back, he's got it. If he says he's going to protect you, he's already got a plan. If he tells you "it scared the shit out of me when we got separated" and his eyes gloss over like a frozen ocean, he's scared to lose you.

Finally, he worked up the nerve to ask. "Why don't you have a girlfriend?"

"Just shopping, Harrington. Haven't found the right girl yet."

"You've been with a lot of the girls at school."

"And? You jealous?"

Steve shook his head. "Not even close. Just thought it was weird that you haven't found a single one that you like."

"Honestly, I'm just trying to appease my dad."

"Whaddya mean?"

"Never mind." Billy dismissed. "I gotta go, Max is coming."

Steve looked on as Billy and Max got into his car and he drove off.

Billy's words rang in Steve's mind for the rest of the day, carrying over to the next morning. He wasn't gonna let this go. He wanted to know what the hell he meant.

"So, what were you talkin' about yesterday?" Steve asked, approaching Billy before going into the school building.

"Yesterday when?"

"When you said you were trying to...'appease your dad' wha—what'd you mean by that?"

"Nothing. I said never mind."

"C'mon. We've fought monsters together, saved each other's lives. You can talk to me."

Billy let out an irritated growl and grabbed Steve by his collar, dragging him to his car.

He rolled up the windows and locked the doors.

"I don't...I don't like girls, Harrington."

"You don't like...oh! ooooooh! So...you're...gay?"

Billy bashfully nodded.

"I can see how that'd be a problem, then. Maybe you should stop sleeping around with people you're not attracted to. How do you even—"

"I just pretend they're you."

"What?"

"What?"

"No. Say that again!" Steve exclaimed. "What'd you say?"

"Get out of my car, Steve. I don't wanna talk about this anymore."

"Not gonna happen. You said you're able to hook up with these girls by pretending...you're hooking up with me?" Steve smiled, pointing to himself.

"Why are you so cheeky about it?"

"I dunno, it's just...it's pretty flattering." His smile widened as Billy scowled. "So a guy like me, am I...am I your type?"

"What does that matter? If I'm not your type—"

"I didn't say that."

Billy narrowed his eyes, testing Steve's honesty with an intense glare. "Then what are you saying?"

"I've seen a side of you that's pretty likeable. Maybe you're my type too."

"This isn't funny, Harrington. Actually, it's insulting, and I should break your jaw."

"I can't kiss you if my jaw is broken, Billy."

Billy eyed the smirk curving on Steve's lips, and he still took his words for a joke. "I'm not screwing around, Steve. If you're just doing this to humiliate me..."

"I'm not, okay?" Steve grasped Billy's collar, slowly pulling him toward him. "If it's like this...you don't have to imagine anymore. You can have the real thing."

Billy shoved him away. "I dunno if I'm ready for the real thing."

Steve grabbed Billy's collar again, pulling him in more aggressively. "One kiss, and we'll take it from there."

The closer Steve's lips got to Billy's, the more convinced he was.

This is about to happen.

This is really happening.

This is...

Their lips met, and Billy's mind went blank. When he would sleep with all those girls, he had to fill his mind with thoughts of Steve, but now, Steve was right here, his lips feeling exactly the way he hoped they would. He had to confirm this wasn't one of his fantasies, so he ran his fingers through the back of Steve's hair, messying the crown of his hair on the way up.

They parted, all too soon and Steve looked into Billy's eyes.

"If you tell anyone about this, I'm dead. You understand that?" Billy warned.

"You kidding? I'll do anything to protect you, just like you always do for me. And when the time is right, we'll get the hell out of Hawkins, and we don't have to hide this. Sound good?"

Finally, Billy smiled. "Sounds like exactly what I've wanted."

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fanfiction #ivy.doc

[suzukiblu]

An excerpt of morally-ambiguous-dad!Lex for @robotogato to hopefully enjoy, haha.

"Clones really don't get soulmarks, though," Kon says in frustration. "It doesn't even make sense that I'd have one."

"Well, I suppose there's the possibility that I just want you so badly that it happened anyway," Lex Luthor muses idly. "A Luthor doesn't generally accept being denied what they want."

"Very fucking funny," Kon mutters, shooting him a glower. "I'm being serious here, asshole."

"Hm," Lex Luthor observes, inspecting him neutrally. "Not even a moment where you let yourself want to believe that, was there."

"Why would I wanna believe that a bastard like you wanted me?" Kon sneers at him.

"Because I am the only person in the multiverse who would burn down reality for you without hesitation," Lex Luthor says like he's talking about the weather or something. Like he's just stating a totally inconsequential fact or reiterating something as obvious as the sky being blue.

Like there's no question there at all.

"I hope you fucking die and I hope it fucking hurts," Kon hisses as the whole world seems to bleed red, just about choking on his fury.

"Well, it will if you don't close your eyes," Lex Luthor says, raising an eyebrow at him. "Quickly, ideally."

"Wh–" Kon is almost stupid enough to ask, and then he realizes and immediately screws his eyes shut, snapping his hands up over his face just in case.

His eye sockets feel like they're on fire.

"Ah, I suppose I live another day," Lex Luthor says. "Rage and anger are notable triggers for the heat vision, if you're still unfamiliar. And apparently arousal as well, although I have very definitely never encountered that version so I can't say if it's more or less potent than rage."

"How do you even know about it, then?" Kon asks, hating that he can't trust himself to look at the bastard without killing him. Lex Luthor could be doing any stupid fucked-up thing right now and he'd have no fucking clue.

"I am a very intelligent person who can afford very good information," Lex Luthor says. "And I am also more intimately familiar with Kryptonian DNA than quite possibly anyone else on this planet, Superman included."

"Superman has Kryptonian DNA," Kon retorts dubiously.

"He does," Lex Luthor agrees. "His special little gift from dumb luck and blind chance. Some of us actually had to put in a bit of effort to get that kind of power, though."

"You don't have that kind of power," Kon says. "You have money and the fucking bullshit fear that you put into people."

"Ah, but I have you now," Lex Luthor counters mildly. "Now don't I."

"You don't," Kon snaps.

"Oh, give it sixteen years or so," Lex Luthor says, making a dismissive gesture as Kon's eyes finally stop burning long enough for him to risk a glare at him. "Your full powerset should be in by then, and I imagine I'll have had a bit of time to change your mind somewhere in there."

"I don't care what whatever custody law bullshit says about it, I'm not gonna stay with you," Kon says tightly. "Sure as shit not for the next sixteen years!"

"Oh?" Lex Luthor asks, raising an eyebrow at him. "Then where exactly are you intending to go long-term? Just planning to stay in a lab for the rest of your life?"

"Why the fuck not?" Kon says in exasperation.

Lex Luthor's eyes narrow.

"Oh," he says like a realization. "Someone's actually made you assume that you belong in a lab, haven't they."

"Yeah, I can't think of a single unrepentant bastard who might've had a hand in me belonging in one of those," Kon bites off darkly. "Real fucking mystery there, huh."

"Hm," Lex Luthor says.

#kon el #conner kent #superboy #lex luthor #superfamily #well arguably superfamily lol #rinfic #robotogato #long post #wip: the one where kon's soulmark is fake

[toomuchracket]

scary movies (birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

day 3 of promptober75! this is less about scary movies than it is about the two of them musing on romance. but they do watch bones and all! i don't think there are any spoilers, but don't yell at me if there are please lol this isn't proofread. yeah, this is just a cutely weird little fic about some cutely weird people. i hope you enjoy!

"baaaaaaaabe, hurry up. i miss you!"

you can hear the pout in matty's voice, even from the next room of the hotel suite. picking up the bowl of m&ms in one hand and the open bottle of champagne in the other, you pad back into the bedroom. "how can you miss me? you've been with me the whole day."

"i always miss you when i'm not right beside you, no matter how long it's for," matty replies, sitting up on his knees on the bed to carefully take the bowl and bottle from your hands. the way his stomach muscles shift with the movement makes your knees run the risk of shaking. "the night before our wedding is going to be hellish for me. are you sure we can't just stay together? al green it?"

"baby, it's tradition."

"peer pressure from dead people, you mean."

"fine, another reason, then. oh, here's one - absence makes the heart grow fonder. you can't argue with Classical poetry."

"try me, babe."

you sigh. "matty, sweetheart, love and light of my life, sole occupant of my head and heart… it's only for twelve hours of our lives. and we will literally be on the same floor of the same building. it'll be fine!" 

matty quirks a brow.

god, he's stubborn. you inhale deeply before you talk again. "alright. i'll wait until the bridesmaids are asleep and then we can sneak out together for a walk. but i'm not sleeping with you at all - in either sense, actually - regardless of how crippling your separation anxiety is."

"i can work with that, darling. thank you," matty smiles and leans up to kiss you.

before he can, though, you place your index finger on his pretty lips. "not so fast, healy, i have a caveat: i'll only do it if we can share a cig."

matty rolls his eyes, and nudges your finger from his face with a quick head movement. "should've seen that one coming. christ, fine. one cigarette, and that's it. don't want any rattling coughing fits during our vows."

you giggle, leaning down to kiss him; the speed with which his face softens afterwards is comical, almost cartoon-like. "thanks, angel."

"mmm, can't wait to marry you," matty murmurs against your lips. "nor can i wait for you to get into bed with me so i can cuddle you the way i've wanted to all day."

"point taken, baby, just let me…" your face screws up as you reach around to unclasp your bra through your (matty's) t-shirt, before pulling it out from under the soft material and launching it towards the open suitcase in the corner of the room. relief palpable, you climb onto the bed and grin at an enamoured matty, now sitting against the plush headboard and swigging champagne. "freedom at last."

"you know, i'd gladly do that for you, sweetheart," matty smirks, tugging you onto his lap with one arm. "in the name of feminism, and all."

"as much as i commend your attempts to champion the gender, baby, i'll pass," you smile, enjoying the tiny moan that slips from your fiancé's lips as you weave your hands into his hair. "because i know if i let you do that, your hands are gonna end up on my tits, and then we'll never get anything done."

"oi, that's not true," matty frowns (cutely). "we'll get each other done. and i know you enjoy that. as do i, my god."

his lips attach themselves to your neck, making their way down; your insides begin to liquify, but you fight through the slight haze of pleasure and stand your ground. "yeah, i really do enjoy it. but, baby, there's other stuff i enjoy doing with you that i wanna do too, yeah? like… watching this film we agreed we were gonna put on tonight."

matty groans against your skin. "must we?"

"yes. you promised me, matty," you say, as firmly as you can with his lips still attached to your collarbone. "we watched the irishman yesterday because you wanted to, and you said we could do bones and all today. it's only fair."

"a romance film about cannibalism," matty mutters to nobody in particular. "it's foul, that concept."

"well, fair is foul and foul is fair."

"what?"

"macbeth. shakespeare. can't argue with him. anyway," you say, shuffling around so matty can lean back against your chest. "can i put the film on now?"

a deep sigh, one that seems to drag itself up from the depths of matty's soul. "depends."

"on?"

"it depends," matty begins dramatically. "on if you're going to spend the rest of the day thirsting over timothée chalamet or not."

"you know, i seem to like him a lot more in your head than i do in real life."

"really?"

"yeah."

matty hums, appeased. "sick. go on, then, stick it on."

you press a kiss to matty's temple and snake a hand across his torso to hold his own. matty brings it to his lips, and the contact seems to release a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. "thank you, lover."

the beginning of the film passes without much incident; that is, until the first lightly gory scene. you wince a little at the sound of cracking bone, but you're nowhere near as bad as matty, who almost upends the bowl of sweets resting on his lap and vigorously shakes his head as if it'll erase the memory from his brain. 

once it passes, he reaches for the champagne on the bedside table and takes a long drink, before passing the bottle to you. "maybe you'd better hang onto that, darling."

"alright, baby."

despite both of your respective silences,  and although you can't see matty's face, you can picture the disgust colouring his features from the way his head tilts against you as the film progresses. he doesn't speak until the film's main villain is introduced, reaching back for the champagne with a "creepy fucker, that one"; this sentiment is built upon at the shot of a james joyce book in said fucker's residence. "oh, christ, he really is suspicious."

despite your own discomfort towards the happenings on-screen, you grin at matty's assessment. "i mean, yeah, baby. but i think the lurking and creeping kinda gave that away already."

"well, obviously. but that book's an extra layer of him being an absolute wrong'un."

you giggle, wrapping your other arm around matty and resting your head on his shoulder. with a happy little huff of air through his nose, matty turns slightly to kiss your cheek; the two of you stay like that, cosied up in a tableau of casual domestic intimacy. it's sweet, for a while, and comfortable - matty even rips the piss out of you at a particular scene involving timothée chalamet and a cornfield, touting it as "your dream movie death, babe". 

(he's lowkey not wrong.)

the sweet moment breaks somewhat, though, as the film progresses and matty gets increasingly more grossed out. with every drop of blood spilled, every jumpscare, every mere mention of the "eating" driving the plot, the muscles in his limbs loosen and contract back into tension, soundtracked by a chorus of gasps, gulps, groans of disgust, and the odd "oh for fuck's sake" when things get really horrid. in spite of your own discomfort at some of the gore, you can't resist fucking with your fiancé a little bit; amidst a silently fraught moment for maren, the protagonist, you lean right next to an unsuspecting matty's ear and crunch a handful of m&m's in your mouth. he practically hits the ceiling in fright, and pinches your thigh with a "not fucking funny". but he doesn't let go of you at all, however grumpy you make him, holding you like a lifeline throughout. in fact, by the time the credits start rolling, matty's fully squished his face into your ribs to get away from the gore on screen, thumbs rubbing your thighs so quickly to try and calm his noticeably thumping heart that you fear he might accidentally set your skin ablaze. 

despite his terror, though, you have to hold back a laugh. "matty, sweetheart," you say, trying with all your might to keep your voice steady. "were you scared of that movie?"

"no, just unnerved by it," comes the clearly- untrue reply, muffled by your cotton-mix-clad chest. "like, they were just constantly eating raw? really? mingin'."

you can't hold back a derisive cackle now, though. "you're freaked out at people eating raw meat? you fucking hypocrite!"

"i wasn't eating people, was i?" matty protests.

"i don't know, i think you ate with it at finsbury."

matty scoffs, but you feel him smile against you. "you're a right weirdo, sometimes, you know that?"

"and you're a scaredy-cat, you know that? honestly. can't even handle a bit of cannibalism in a movie. pussy."

your fiancé pulls back from your chest to look at you, and you regret your words immediately as soon as you see the shit-eating grin on his face. "well, you are what you eat."

an immediate facepalm. "i can't stand you."

"that ring on your left hand suggests otherwise, darling," matty kisses said ring, then presses little pecks up your finger to the tip. "and look at that - you can be romantic and kiss fingers without wanting to munch on them. this film is nonsensical. i mean, i get it's some metaphorical thing about loving people for who they truly are, but jesus, the cannibalism isn't half disgusting."

"hmmm, i don't know," you muse, twirling matty's curls around your fingers. "i think there's something romantic about it. the ending with maren and lee, at least."

matty peels your fingers out of his hair and moves to face you, his beautiful face contorted into the most bewildered expression you think you've ever seen. "are you on something right now?"

"i'm serious! it's romantic, if ill-advised. and messy."

"sweetheart," matty shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "politely - what the fuck are you on about?"

you smile. "well, it's all about desire, and lust, yeah?"

"yeah, i get that, but…"

"so, it's just needing somebody so much that you, well, you consume them in their entirety. and also, like," you continue, pushing your slipping glasses back up your nose. "there's an element of closeness to it, too. how much more intimate can you get than having your lover being broken down in your digestive system, literally fuelling you the way their love does so emotionally? oh, and devotion! giving yourself up to your lover like that to sustain them? you're together forever. yeah, it's disgusting, but you can't deny there's a romance to it, matty, you really can't."

he looks like he wants to, though. "but it's so violent."

you roll your eyes. "says the man who wrote a song about the idea of cracking his girlfriend's skull open, just so he could know exactly what she was thinking. and i thought that was sweet, and romantic."

matty opens his mouth as if to disagree, then closes it and shrugs. "actually, you've got a point, darling," he smiles almost shyly, tracing patterns in the bare skin of your shin. "i wrote that about you, you know."

"you did? aww, baby," you coo, pulling your fiancé's face towards you so you can kiss all over it. "i had no idea!"

"oh, come on, babe, who the fuck else would it have been about?" matty scoffs. "used to daydream about being so intimate with you like this, just hearing you think out loud, as unedited as you'll ever get."

you smirk. "bet you didn't think the thoughts would be about the inherent romance of cannibalism, huh?"

matty laughs, leaning in to kiss you slowly, deeply, passionately. "no, but it doesn't matter. i love you regardless."

"i love you too. and i promise i won't try to eat you, baby."

"nor will i take a heavy object to your skull, sweetheart. however," matty smirks, shuffling down the bed to rest his head in the gap between your legs. "i would quite like to eat you in a slightly different sense, if you'll allow."

"oh, go on then."

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