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lilasturns · 4 months

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CORRUPTION.

chris sturniolo has made it his mission to corrupt you. (part 2 to GOOD GIRL.)

warnings: use of ma, fingering, cunnilingus, innocence kink (if u squint), that’s like it. merry christmas! (NOT EDITED.)

You haven't been able to stop thinking about Chris Sturniolo. You don't know who that girl in his car was. That was unlike you, and your behavior since then has been very unlike you.

You were slacking. You forgot about half of your homework in the past two weeks, and when it came to studying for your tests? No. You haven't. And truly, you didn't plan on it. Everytime you tried, you mind went straight to thinking about Chris, and the way his fingers moved inside you.

You were craving it. You were yearning for it. You'd do anything for more. Nothing was going to stop you from getting it.

Which is why you asked your friends to bring you to another party. And another, and another. If you talked to yourself from two weeks ago, she would've been shocked by the way your life changed in such a short amount of time.

The past few parties you've attended, Chris hasn't been there. And honestly, you're getting a little annoyed. I mean, you're going for him, and he isn't even there?

You've basically been sulking in this corner of a random person's house all night, waiting for him to walk by. It felt different, though. You knew he was going to be here. You just knew it.

You rummaged through the fridge, desperately trying to find a bottle of water. It was hot and sticky in there, and the flashing lights you've been seeing all weekend have been giving you a headache.

As you shuffled through the fridge, you felt a hand place itself lightly on your back. Your body tensed in response, your breath hitching. You head turned slightly to peek over your shoulder, revealing a very smug Chris Sturniolo.

"Thought parties weren't your thing," he said, "looking for me, huh?"

He stared into your eyes, waiting for a response. You slammed the fridge door shut, turning to him, as his hand still pressed against your back.

"Y-yeah." You answered. You waited for this moment for two weeks, why were you so shy now? Now face to face, it was like you couldn't form any words.

"Then let's get out of here? Yeah?" He whispered in your ear. "I know you've been waiting."

And here you are with Chris Sturniolo again, but, rather than his car, you're in his house. His house.

As you walked in through his front door, he turned to you, a finger pressed to his lips, silencing you. He walked up the dark hallway, taking your hand in his, guiding you up the stairs.

Once you reached his room, he flicked on the lights, causing your face to scrunch from the sudden brightness. You finally saw his face in the bright lights. His chiseled jaw, his pink, full lips, his eyes. He had smirk on his face, it was all overwhelming you.

“How’d you like it last time, huh?” He asked, taking slow steps closer and closer to you. He ran a hand down your face, lifting your chin up high to look him in the eyes.

Butterflies flew through your stomach and your knees practically buckled as you stared into his bright eyes.

“How much did you like it?” He repeated, licking his lips.

“A lot.” You whispered back, holding your breath in anticipation.

“You gonna let me do more this time, yeah?”

You anxiously nodded, swallowing hard, taking in a deep breath. To say you were nervous is an understatement, because you are fucking terrified.

“Words, baby,” he started, his hands traveling down to your waist, gripping your sides. “I need words.”

“Y-yes,” you agreed eagerly, “please.”

He lifted his one hand to your face, cupping your cheek, running his thumb up and down. He stared into your eyes, causing you to look away, a deep red color forming on your face.

He turned your head back to look at him, slowly letting his lips connect to yours. His soft, pink lips moved against yours lightly, and you sucked in a breath, holding it as his other hand ran down to your ass.

You let out a light gasp as his hand grabbed your ass, and he took it as an opportunity to let his tongue fall into your mouth.

He pulled your body closer into his, holding onto your back as you held onto his arm with your right hand. His lips pulled away from yours and placed light kisses from below your ear to the side of your neck.

You tilted your neck to the side, letting him kiss it lightly as you took in deep breaths. Your hand held the back of his head, playing with his brown, wavy locks.

He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you down to sit on top of him. You straddled his legs, huddling over his lap.

“Come on, ma,” he pleaded, “I can’t help you if you don’t try.”

You slowly lowered yourself to sit down on his lap, sighing. Even though you were once on top of him before, you were still completely and utterly nervous to be sitting on him again. And this time, on his bed.

He went back to kissing down your neck and to your collarbones, playing with the hem of your shirt. You let your hips roll against his, causing him to let out a small groan from the friction you caused.

“Let me make you feel good.” He spoke, pulling away from your neck, tugging with the hem of your shirt. “Can I take this off?”

“Y-yeah.” You allowed, waiting for him to pull it off you. He smiled, using both his hands to remove your shirt off your body, leaving you in your black lace bra.

The necklace that hanging from your neck hung low, down to your cleavage jingled as he picked it up to play with it.

“I like these.” He complimented.

“Thanks.” You responded.

“Can I take your bra off?” He suddenly asked, causing your eyes to widen. He would be the first person to see them, and you could feel your heart beat slightly pick up.

You nodded, words unable to leave your mouth in fear you would sound silly. You reached behind your back to unclip your bra, letting your boobs fall from their grasp.

You threw your bra on the floor below you, your hans falling to the side as Chris stared down at your chest, his mouth gaped.

Your hands went to cover your chest as he stopped them, shaking his head. He held your hands out to the side, his mouth still completely wide open.

“You’re so fucking pretty, god.” He said quietly, mesmerized by the sight in front of him. Your face burned up as he complimented you once again.

His mouth dropped down your collarbones, once again leaving light kisses down to your top of your boobs. His brought his hands up to grasp them, massaging them in both his hands, before dropping them and letting his mouth come down on them instead.

Pleasure waved through your body as his mouth placed with your chest. You held his head in place, letting out a soft moan. You could feel the wetness start looking in your panties.

He played with your tits for a few more seconds before pulling away, a smirk on his face. His hair was starting to get a little messy, and his lips were plump. He looked amazing.

“Let me show you how good I can make you feel, okay?” He whispered, lifting you off his lap. “Lay back.”

You laid back against his head-frame, your legs bent up close to you. He crawled in between your legs, spreading them out.

He pulled down your leggings all the way down and off your ankles, throwing them to the floor beside his bed. His stared at the black panties you wore that matched your bra.

As he laid in between your legs, he ran a finger down and back up to your clit, rubbing a few light circle on it.

“Can I take them off?” He asked, his hands reaching up to the hand of your panties. You nodded eagerly, licking your lips. The pleasure you felt was becoming unbearable to deal with.

He smiled, pulling down your panties to your thighs. You pulled them down the rest of the way, tossing them to the floor along side your bra and leggings.

“God, your so pretty.” He mumbled, running his finger through your folds. You let out a soft and quiet moan, watching him.

“Did I tell you how much I missed you, ma?” He asked, staring into your eyes. You stared at him for a few moments before shaking your head no.

“Well, I did. A lot.” He added. “Missed how innocent you are. Was waiting to show you something new.”

“Something new?” You wondered.

“Just wait, you’ll see.” He replied, his finger running through your folds still, collecting the wetness that was still forming.

You sucked in a breath, your hands gripping his bed sheets beside you. He slowly dipped his middle finger inside you, your hips bucking up.

He slowly moved his one finger in and out of you before pausing, looking into your eyes. He pulled his finger out and you and you whined from the loss of contact.

He dipped his head down to stare at your pussy, before latching his mouth onto your clit. Your mouth dropped, not expecting him to latch his mouth onto you.

His tongue lightly licked around your clit, traveling up and down your folds. You held his head with your right hand, your left gripping the bed-sheets. Even the smallest amount of pleasure he gave you could make you come.

It all felt so surreal. You didn’t know it felt this way. Your friends told you it felt good, but you didn’t know it felt this good. His tongue continued to flick around you, occasionally nibbling down on your clit softly, making you moan out.

“Chris..” you moaned out, “feels really good.”

He groaned against your pussy, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt the vibrations rattling against you. Your mouth dropped as he started to move his mouth faster against you, his tongue dipping in and out of you.

As his tongue reached up to your clit, his hand went down to your folds, dipping in his middle finger again.

“Ngh..” You moaned, trying to keep quiet. “God.”

Him sucking on your clit and fingering you only got quicker and you pushed his head down onto you, causing him to add his ring finger inside of you, and causing him to move his mouth even faster.

You could feel the pit in your stomach start to form, your hips constantly bucking against his mouth. His other hand that wasn’t inside you placed a hand on your hip, pressing it down so you could sit still. You felt him smile against you, causing you to let out a moan as your face scrunched shut.

“Chris,” you started, “I think I’m gonna c-cum.”

“You got it ma, come all over my fingers, yeah?” He spoke out against your pussy, still fingering you. The pit in your stomach only grew more, your palms became sweaty, and you clenched around his fingers.

He groaned from you clenching around him, causing you to cum on his fingers. He slowly stopped his movements, letting you come down from your high.

He got up and you closed your legs as your thighs shook a bit. He stared down at you as he took his fingers into his mouth, licking your cum off them.

Your jaw dropped as you watched him lick his fingers. He smirked down at you before plopping down on his bed next to you. You watched him plop down next to you as he turned his head to face you.

“How was that?”

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leossmoonn · 5 months

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Hope you’re having a good day! Can I request a blurb of Abby seeing your place for the first time?

yes!!! I hope you’re having a good day as well :D

————

“are we almost done yet?” abby groans as she climbs up what she hopes to be the last flight of stairs.

“one more, honey,” you say. you grab her hand and try to help her as her little legs feel like jello. you turn to mike who is trailing behind you two. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know the elevator would be broken.”

he shakes his head, smiling a little while panting. you can see some beads of sweet form on his upper lip. “i love cardio. in fact, this is right on par with what i do at the gym.”

you giggle as you know he does not have a gym membership and he’s stopped running outside since it’s become so cold. even if he did keep up with exercise, stairs are a different type of workout.

“we are here!” you exclaim at the top of the step. abby jumps up for joy, suddenly re-energized with the excitement of seeing your apartment. you open the door leading to the hallway and the pair follow you halfway down the hall. you type in your apartment’s pin number and open the door, going in and setting your purse down and slipping your shoes off.

abby runs in, skipping through the room.

“abby! behave. we are guests,” mike says. “oh, it’s okay. there’s not anything she can harm,” you say.

there’s a little meow that comes from your bedroom. your head turns and you spot your cat. “except for cornelius, maybe.” you walk over and pick him up, walking him over to abby first. she gasps, her big brown eyes seeming to fill up her whole face. she tentatively puts out her hand, letting your car sniff her. cornelius ducks his head under her hand, rubbing his cheek along her palm.

“he’s so soft!” abby gushes. “he seems to like you,” you grin.

she turns to mike with the biggest pout you think you’ve ever seen from abby. “can we get a cat?”

mike chuckles softly and shakes his head. “i don’t think we can afford one, abs. i’m sorry.”

she frowns and turns to you, scratching cornelius behind the ears. “can i live with you?”

“maybe someday soon, hm?” you take a peek at mike who’s obviously daydreaming about a building a home with you.

“yeah, maybe someday,” he smiles softly. he starts looking around your apartment, taking in everything.

it’s a cute little place that you have. the first thing you see when you come in are two walls, one with a few doors along the side. the first door leads to your bedroom and the second leads to the bathroom. the third one is a small room that contains the washer, dryer, and litter box.

further into the hallway is the living room and kitchen which are connected. the cabinets in your kitchen are all white with marble granite covering the countertops. the kitchen table you have is a little bar with three chairs all lined up seemingly perfectly. you have a few plants on top of each cabinet with a little cactus on the bar counter near the wall it’s connected to. you have family pictures all over your fridge, as well as some with mike and abby.

your living is by far your biggest room. you have a gray couch with a wood coffee table and another wooden table by the far corner of the couch. there’s a plant right in the middle of the coffee table as well with a picture of you and mike. the tv is sitting on top of a dresser that’s filled with all of cornelius’ food and toys and other necessities. there’s a window by the tv and couch, letting a great amount of light in. the wall behind your couch is a navy blue along with your rug.

by the window is a cat tree and a basket of cat toys. there are a few shelves on the wall that are ascending. on them are pictures of your cat, family, and little souvenirs you’ve managed to pick up while traveling.

mike’s been here before, but he’s always amazed at how homely it feels. it doesn’t have that stuffy feeling to it like his house does. it’s not depressing and disappointing to walk into. it’s lively even with just the three of you here standing in silence. it feels exactly like how you make him feel: calm and happy.

“i like your plants,” abby says, inspecting the calathea on your coffee table. “we should get some, mike.”

“it’s a small investment,” you say. “they will probably die in my care,” mike snorts.

“i’ll help,” you offer. he shrugs, “we’ll see.”

“are you guys hungry?” you ask, walking into your kitchen. “not really,” abby answers.

“mike?” you turn to him. “a little, but i can wait until i get home,” mike says.

“nonsense. you guys plan to stay here for a little, right? unless you want to walk down seven flights again.”

“no, please!” abby groans. “that’s what i thought,” you chuckle. “you good with eating some chinese takeout? i have leftovers that will go bad soon.”

“anything you have is fine. thank you,” mike says. “awesome,” you hold your fist up like you won a game. “oh, abs! i wasn’t sure if you wanted to watch anything while you were here, but i bought you some coloring utensils and coloring books as well.” you start to warm up the food in the microwave and go to your bedroom, coming out with a couple of boxes full of coloring supplies and a few books.

“oh, you didn’t have to,” mike sighs. “i wanted to,” you say. he watches with a smile as you sit on the ground with abby and look through the books with her. his heart warms as he knows you love abby like she’s your own blood and flesh.

you and mike are sitting on the couch while abby is laying on her stomach in front of the tv, paying most of her attention to her new coloring book. you managed to convince her to eat an egg roll, which she surprisingly liked, and some fortune cookies.

mike takes your plates once your done eating and begins to wash them. you follow him, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his shoulder.

“you didn’t have to,” you say. “you fed us and let us hang out at your place. plus, you got abby some new stuff. It’s the least i could do,” mike says.

you peck his cheek. “you guys are always welcome here. even if I don’t formally invite you, you guys can just show up if you know i’m home.”

“don’t let abby know that. before you know it, she’ll be packing a suitcase and sleeping here.”

“well, there is an apartment upstairs with two bedrooms.”

mike gently sets down the plate in the drying rack. “you don’t have to move just because my little sister wants to live with you.”

“what if i want you guys to live with me?”

his heart skips and his body stiffens under your. “really?” he mumbles. you hum and nod. “whenever you’re ready, just say the word. i love you, mike. and abby. you two are my family away from home.”

mike smiles and turns to place a kiss on your lips. he cups your face, leaning into the warmth of your body. you both hear a thud continued by a small meow. mike feels something furry against his neck and shuffles away, a little startled, only to find out it’s cornelius.

“if we move in, you might have to get rid of him,” mike says.

you gasp with a smile and slap mike’s chest. “that would be like getting rid of abby.”

“yeah, but abby is a human and can talk and feed herself. and use the bathroom without me having to clean it up.”

cornelius meows once again, batting mike’s shoulder. he then lays down on the counter, showing his belly and pushing his head into mike’s arm. you can’t help but awe.

“i think he likes you.”

mike brings a hand up and scratches the side of his face. cornelius starts to purr loudly, rubbing his head further into mike’s hand.

“he’s not so bad,” mike says. “see? you’ll get along perfectly fine,” you smile.

you and mike go back to watching tv for another hour or so before mike tells abby it’s time to go home. abby whines and begs to stay, but you assure her that you’ll see her bright and early tomorrow.

“i love you.” mike hugs you, holding you close and tight like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you. you close your eyes as you relax into him, feeling yourself melt against his body. “i love you, too, baby. drive home safe, okay? text me when you get home.”

mike nods, grabbing abby’s hand after you kiss her head goodbye.

“are you sure we can’t get a cat?” abby asks. “i’m sure,” mike says.

“what about a dog?”

“no.”

“a bunny?”

“no.”

“hamster?”

“abby, no.”

“what about a chicken?”

“where would we even get one of those?”

“i want a fox! josie has one in her backyard that visits sometimes.”

mike looks down at abby with a you’re crazy face. she giggles and starts to him to herself. mike sighs, knowing he’s going to have to deal with abby’s questions about pets for the rest of the week. but honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fluff

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ultraviol6nced · 8 months

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LET’S TRY SOMETHING NEW - ETHAN LANDRY 🩵 (sub!ethan)

REQUESTED!

SUMMARY: your boyfriend, ethan landry, finds your strap on after you spend months trying to hide it from him. you’ve been shy about the idea of pegging until now.

warnings: smut, pegging, use of sex toys, palming, sucking

~~~~~~~~~~~~

it was a sunny tuesday, but the continuous honking of cars that echoed through the streets of nyc weren’t really helping with the peace.

your boyfriend, ethan landry, was your sense of peace though. he was a respectful and kind boy who always brought some sort of light to your day no matter how shitty you felt.

he was the only thing you really needed to survive your 4 years of hell. and you were grateful that you both attended the same college which meant that separation anxiety was out of the picture.

he was also a very curious boy who had all sorts of questions. and it was clear that he was some sort of experimentalist.

“y/n?” he called out in a soft spoken voice, his cheeks became flushed while he mustered up the courage to ask a risky question.

“yes, baby?” you answered back in the same sweet tone that he just called your name in. you always went out of your way to help ethan with whatever he needed.

“um..” he held up your strap on that you’ve been trying to hide from him for the past few months. you were always too shy to bring up the idea of pegging.

“oh..” was all that came out of your mouth, your lips forming an ‘O’ at the sight of your strap on being in the hands of your poor, innocent boyfriend who just discovered it in the pits of your messy drawers.

“what’s this?” he asks, his cheeks becoming more flushed from the awkwardness that was quick to fill the room. “well um..” you were having a hard time figuring out how to explain the strap on that was displayed in his hands.

“have you ever heard of pegging?” you asked, hopefully he wasn’t too corrupted to understand such a term. “no.” ethan says shyly, feeling stupid for not knowing. “well. pegging is an anal sex act. where a woman wears a strap on and she penetrates a mans anus.” you began, your cheeks becoming equally as flushed as his.

“oh.” ethan said, his eyes widening at the statement of you possibly penetrating his tight anus. “can— we try..?” he asked, waving the strap on in the air. you forgot that he was a very open boy who was open to new ideas. you didn’t understand why you were so worried about his opinion. he never said no to you in fact.

“yeah. of course.” you closed your laptop, pausing your school work. you walked up to ethan and gave him a small peck on the lips. “get comfortable in bed, i’ll be there in a few.” you gave him one more peck before you were off, changing into a more appropriate outfit for an occasion like this.

ethan made sure to take everything off besides his boxers so that you had something to work with at least. you put on a cute set of lingerie to match your strap on. once you walked into your bedroom, ethan was more than ready. instead of fear displayed on his face, he was more than excited. his eyes lit up and he immediately sat up, his eyes glued onto your lingerie set and that strap on that you had on.

“so cute..” you whispered before crawling onto the bed, placing two strong hands onto his shoulder so that you could keep him in place.

“use me..” he whined softly, his soft minty breath hitting your face which made you get aroused. he was being so submissive right now. and you loved every single bit of it. “will do.” you confidently answered before smashing your hungry lips onto his soft lips.

his large hands travelled up to your waist where he held you comfortably. you both continued to kiss passionately, the thrill of trying something out arousing you both more.

you began to work on his boxers, lightly palming him through the thin cloth that covered his hard arousal. you knew that he was supposed to be inside of you, but instead you were going to be inside of him.

“i want you inside of me already momma..” he whined. you became more aroused by the new nickname. you never knew that he could be that submissive and it was driving you insane. “be patient.” you ordered before ripping his boxers off, his cock springing right up.

you gave him one last look in the eye before trailing a few kisses down his chest. you finally reached his dick and you began to kiss it gently, treating it as if it were the most delicate thing.

you then wrapped your mouth on his tip, feeling the pre-cum coat your whole mouth. you loved the taste, it was different yet delicious.

you then began to suck his dick. sucking noises filled the room along with his soft whimpers and moans while he bucked his hips up every few moments every time he inched closer to his orgasm.

“m-mmmm…!” he whimpered while squirming. he was getting so overstimulated by the feeling of your pretty mouth taking his dick like a champ. “i-i wanna cum..” he whispered while gripping your hair into a ponytail. you felt his hips buck again which shoved his whole 8 inches into your mouth, making you gag slightly.

you then felt one last thrust into your mouth before ropes of warm cum coated the back of your throat. you loved the feelings of being filled to the brim, inside your mouth and inside of your tight pussy.

you swallowed his cum within one go, a soft smirk on your lips then formed. “you ready?” you asked while getting up from the bed and grabbing the bottle of lube. you put a good amount on your hand before glazing your strap on with the slippery substance.

“yes momma.” ethan whimpered softly, recovering from the overstimulation situation that happened a few moments ago.

“get on all fours.” you demanded. you were now the one truly in control. you liked the feeling although it was still quite foreign to you since you were always the one under.

ethan was being a good boy and got on all fours, leaving his tight anus exposed to you. you got behind him and rubbed his entrance with your slippery tip before inserting yourself into him, causing him to let out a gasp.

“it-it hurts..” he whines, tears stinging his eyes from the pain of being stretched out completely. “i know baby..” you answered, giving him some time to adjust to the size before beginning to thrust slowly but gently into him.

at first, his responses were soft cries. he was trying to get used to the feeling after all and you made it easier by giving him some time to adjust to it.

“mmmph..!” he whimpered loudly once you shoved the full length into him. you knew his painful cries turned into cries of pleasure once he tries to suppress his moans.

you continued to thrust at a comfortable rate. you made sure to go easy on him since it was his first time after all and you wanted him to experience little to no pain.

“i’m about to c-cum!” he whimpered out while his anus walls began to squeeze around your strap on. you sped up the pace a bit so that he could reach his orgasm more faster.

“f-fuck.. momma!” he moaned loudly before his body began to shake gently, his legs quivering after experience a life changing orgasm.

you pulled your strap on out, his creaminess coated it along with your lube that still remained on it.

“you did so good baby.” you complimented and gave him a soft kiss before removing the strap on. “thank you, momma”. he whispered back, giving you one last kiss on the lips.

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the-californicationist · 3 months

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TF141 husband reactions when you come home with lipstick on you.

TW: arrangements prior discussed, established relationships, safe sane consensual, there is some dubcon though, so tread lightly

MDNI ever.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

When you walked in the door, the sun was just coming up. You found him in the kitchen, drinking a tea and working on his laptop, getting ready for the day. He peered over the top of his screen as you tried to quietly shut the door. You were still dressed in last night’s clothes; the straps of your heels unbuckled, your dress half-zipped, your braid a total mess.

“C’mere.”

His voice was more than a command. It was an edict. It was as if he was some ancient emperor calling you to the carpet in front of his feet and preparing you for his appraisal.

You were a bit nervous, but you dropped your purse on the floor and kicked off your heels, standing before him, complying.

“Did you have fun?” He asked, snaking his hand up around your knee, traveling north along your smooth thigh, disappearing under your gold, glittering gown.

You nodded, raising your eyebrows a bit. Communicating all sorts of things without saying them.

You have no idea how much fun I had.

She was a dream.

Feel the results of her affection, my love. I dare you.

Finally, his eyes locked on yours, his fingers find your panties missing, and in their place, a swath of soaked skin. Your come has painted your lips and thighs like a mural, telling the stories of tens of orgasms and almost-gasms, and all the mushy, gooey, honeyed activities in between.

Then, leaving you feeling empty, Simon pulls his hand away and studies his wet fingers. One of them comes back pinkish-purple, and he smudges it in confusion.

“Is that lipstick?”

You nod again, holding back a wide smile at the memory of its arrival.

He stands, looming over you, darkening the room like a thunderous cloud, and commands, lifting up the hem of your dress,

“Show me.”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

When you showed him her picture a few weeks back, Kyle had given you a sly look,

“I know what you like about her, babes.”

You rolled your eyes, playing coy,

“What! She’s nice. And she has good taste in books. She even plays the piano.”

“She’s got a gorgeous fuckin’ rack, don’t she?”

He laughed at you, cuddling you closer in bed, ribbing you mercilessly. And he was right. You couldn’t stop staring at her incredible breasts, and you wanted to feel their softness against your cheeks.

When you got your wish, he came to pick you up in the car, and Kyle had noticed right away.

“What is that, missus?”

He pulled down the edge of your shirt to reveal a messy trail of red lipstick that started at your mouth and disappeared down your chest.

“Naughty, naughty thing… You know you’ve got a hungry man at home who still expects to be fed. Hope you’re ready to do double duty.”

You shrugged, winking at him,

“She asked if you were coming with me next time.”

John “Soap” MacTavish

You couldn’t tell if he was asking because he wanted to know or because he just wanted to hear you say it. He’d met her, so he didn’t need to give you the twenty questions game, but as he suckled ravenously at your already-punished clit, he asked you anyway.

“What’s ‘er name again, bonnie? Hm?”

His tongue fucked your swollen, hypersensitive pussy with its soft, smooth form, slipping through your spent come and greedily taking it from you, lick by lick.

“Did she eat you like your man does?”

His fingers joined him, pulling an orgasm from you easily as his knuckles pounded against your core, sweeping upwards across your walls and finding the perfect spot every time. Johnny knew exactly where it was as if he had been born with a map.

You grabbed his mohawk, trying in vain to get some relief, but he was too strong.

“Tell me, lass,” his lips were shining like wet glass he was so soaked by your pleasure, “Did you make her lick you?”

“…y-yes. Yes, Johnny…”

“Greedy minx…”

Sitting up, he tapped his heavy cock at your entrance,

“Must’ve done. ‘Cause you’re wearin’ so much lipgloss on this pretty wee cunt of mine, it’ll look like she gave me head after I fuck you.”

Captain John Price

His fingers traced over the near-perfect imprint of her mouth where she had latched onto your breast. John’s other hand had both of yours pinned cruelly above your head, so you couldn’t wipe it away.

His bright, blue eyes studied your face, watching you as he explored your body. Then, he fit his mouth over her lipstick stain nearly mimicking her exact placement, and the familiarity made you moan deeply.

John sucked your nipple into his mouth, obviously pleased he’d gotten it right, and he continued to work you like a puzzle, looking around your flesh for lipstick-colored clues to lead him to success.

His belt made a popping noise as he ripped it from his jeans, the end of it biting across your naked skin as he did so, since he was standing right over you. He used it to tie your hands and loop them over the doorway, and you were trapped.

John found his next target, a stain on your ribs, and he kissed you languidly there, kneeling to reach. Another on your hipbone, and another right against your mons.

While on his knees, he licked across your clit, and you felt your whole body respond to him. You were still reeling from her earlier efforts, and he knew it.

“Did she take care of my pretty little pussy, love?”

“Yes, sir…” you whispered, quivering and swaying against the door.

“Did she use her hands…” he let his fingers dip and play in you just enough to rekindle your flames, “…or her mouth?”

He sucked against your folds furiously, then, eating you not like a man but an animal starved. He pushed your legs apart to get to more of you, sinking his tongue deeper than you’d ever felt it go. It writhed, warm and greedy, against your sensitive hole, tasting the evidence you were hiding.

“She… she did both… sir…” You answered obediently, hoping he was not done with your interrogation just yet.

He stood, towering over you with his huge, hairy body. He was so warm, and you could see the flush on his chest through his dark fur. John smiled down at you like a wolf to a lamb,

“But, no cock, hm?”

You lost what little poker face you had when you looked up at him, the whites of your eyes giving away your shock at his tone,

“…n-no…” You were confused, but you caught your mistake quickly, “No, sir…”

“And after I left you with all of your toys, too… oh, well. Guess I’ll just have to give you mine. Let’s show her what she’s missin’.”

He left you pinned to the door and pulled his fat, flaccid rod from his pants and started jerking himself hard, looking over to where she was laying in your bed, face-up, tied shibari-style to a whirring vibrator, drooling over her ball gag.

John took two of his fingers and dipped them into her, wetting himself on her fluids, using her as lube. Then, he picked you up in his arms, lay you flat on top of her, and fed himself into your body, inch by inch.

Your sweaty skin made you slide against each other. You kissed her mouth around the ball gag, sucking the skin of her neck, hungry for whatever you could reach.

As he fucked you, the vibrator would rock against her clit and yours, clumsily, but just enough to send you both reeling from the shock.

Then, he pulled himself out of you, and you wondered where he had gone, but when you looked down into her face, pupils blown wide with pleasure-filled panic, you knew.

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writinginfinite · 1 year

Text

what did i get myself into with you?

it did not surprise you that Angela and Lewis were parting ways, as it had been in the works towards the end of last season. she wouldn't leave until she found someone who was suitable and most importantly, someone whom Lewis trusted.

You had been a part of the Mercedes Travel Team for a few years and began taking on more responsibility. When the 2022 season came, the team put you to the test with a tougher traveling schedule. It was rough in the beginning, but you only went through it with the relationships you had formed.

2022

Of all the people you met on the team, two stood out: Angela and Lewis. At first, you were immediately drawn to Angela's personality, and it wasn't long before you gravitated toward Lewis. You worried Lewis would find it intrusive, but he quickly put your fears to rest. He assured you he appreciated having you around and included you on their trips. He had you travel with them and go out after races if time allowed. Angela and Lewis became like family to you. You trusted them more than anyone else on Paddock, and you felt it in return.

As the races went along, you understood the dynamics of how Angela and Lewis worked. During the times you weren’t busy, you found yourself in the garage holding some of Lewis' belongings - almost as if it had become part of their routine. Angela often teased you by saying, "If I ever needed a weekend off, you'd be my perfect replacement." You took her words as a compliment and laughed, but also reminded her you were only accompanying them, as you were tied to Mercedes.

You thought it was a private conversation between you and Angela, but it surprised you when Lewis walked up to the two of you and said, "That could always be changed," with a playful wink. You and Lewis had become comfortable bantering with each other, so you responded with a smile, "You’d wish, Hamilton."

///

With only four races left in the season, you received a call from Angela on a Thursday night. She was begging for you to take over for her that weekend because of a conflict. The huge commitment caught you off guard and listed every reason you couldn’t do it. “I didn’t tell my bosses I needed a weekend off.” “It was a last-minute commitment.” “You could never do her job correctly.” But for every excuse you gave, Angela had a reply. “You were the first person Lewis asked for when I told him. He doesn’t trust anyone easily, but he does with you. Lewis has a chemistry with you that I haven’t seen before with anyone. Everyone sees it. Please!” She knew deep down you wanted to do it, but her statement also left you with another question. Wait, does she mean by “everyone sees the chemistry? So much was happening you didn’t have time to ask.

Her words weren't meant to guilt-trip you; they were simply the truth. As much as you tried to deny it, you knew it was true. “Okay, you win, I’ll do it. But someone has to call my boss. I’m not doing it.” You told Angela, finally giving it. “You don’t have to worry about that. It’s already been done,” Angela replied with a laugh. These two already had their minds made up that you would agree with and made moves in the background. They knew you so well.

When Friday rolled around, you stood nervously outside Lewis' hotel room, ready to start the race weekend. Lewis opened the door to see you in your signature Mercedes team shirt and black jeans, with a backpack across your chest. "Aren't you just adorable?" he said, with a smirk on his face.

You couldn't help but smile at his compliment. You were feeling like a kid on the first day of school. "Well, hello to you as well, Lewis," you sarcastically responded, grabbing his water bottle and a few other items in his hands. He tried to protest you for grabbing the item, but you gave him a look that made him hand them over immediately. "That's what I thought," you joked because it was your job to do these things. He was to only focus on racing.

As you made your way to the car, Lewis couldn't help but make another slick response. "I've never seen this side of you. I like it," he said while grinning. "We may need to work together more often if this is what I get." Your heart raced, but you tried to play it cool. "It’s only been like five minutes, Lewis. It’s going well. Hopefully, we won’t be sick of each other by the end of the day," you said with a small smile, but you felt the chemistry growing with each passing second. “I highly doubt that,” Lewis said as he opened the car door for you.

Throughout the entire weekend, you tried your hardest to imitate Angela's role, but also to be yourself. Despite the hard work, it was a joy to be by his side, and Lewis seemed to feel the same way. He constantly checked in on you, asking if you needed any help, but you always reassured him you were fine. Reiterating that his job was to focus on racing only.

Your reminders seemed to work because Lewis ended up on the podium, and you couldn't contain your excitement. You were right there with the team, jumping up and down with emotion.

You would normally be back in the garage, but this time you were up in the parc ferme with team members. As Lewis made his way down the line, he was shaking hands with everyone and you just followed their lead. When Lewis got to you, he froze, looking at you like you were out of your mind. He pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off of the ground momentarily, as you whispered your congratulations in his ear. "I'm so proud of you. You deserve it," you said, trying not to cry. You weren’t even sure if he heard you. It had been a while since Lewis’ last podium and you all talked in private, many times, about how tough the season had been. "Are you kidding me? I couldn't have done it without you. You just don’t know. Thank you so much," Lewis replied, his voice full of appreciation.

As the team celebrated their podium finish with photos, you stood off to the side, snapping a few personal photos. You weren’t sure if you would experience this opportunity again and didn’t want to forget it. Suddenly, Lewis called out your name, and you looked up to see every team member turn to look at you. "Why are you hiding on the side? Come over here and get in the photos!" he exclaimed. You protested because you did nothing to help with a podium finish, but Lewis gave you a look like the one you gave him Friday morning. You gave in and quickly searched for a spot to put down your bags and blend in with the team. Lewis wasn't having that, though. He took your hand and guided you to the front, where smirks followed your every move. You couldn't help but wonder if this was the “Everyone sees it” Angela had been talking about. Suddenly, the cameraman called for everyone's attention, and with all the clicking of cameras and flashing lights, you realized Lewis had left. Before you could figure out where he went, he was back beside you, spraying champagne in your direction. You had no time to dodge and became drenched in the bubbly liquid. You playfully yelled at Lewis. "I hate you for this. I’ll never forgive you for this," you said, laughing

"You hate me?" Lewis laughed as he cupped your face to clear the champagne from your eyes. He led you to a secluded spot in the garage out of the view of cameras and fans. Once your vision cleared, you snatched the towel from him and retorted, "Actually, you're right. I'll love watching you carry your bags for the rest of the day" But then you surprised him by wrapping your arms around him in a hug, leaving him covered in the champagne he just drenched you in. He struggled for a moment before finally giving in, feeling like he deserved it. "You're a real pain, you know that?" He teased as you let go of him.

///

As the schedule went on, you filled in more frequently. It started with one race, then two, and before you knew it, you spent three straight race weekends by Lewis's side. Fans and media outlets took notice, and ridiculous rumors about you and Lewis circulated. “Lewis kicked Angela to the curb for a mystery woman,” as if the team did not employ you. You and Lewis brushed it all off, but there was one thing you couldn't ignore: your boss' increasing annoyance with you leaving to work with Lewis. You had hoped she would understand that you were simply doing what was best for Lewis, the face of Mercedes - the company that employed you both. You confided in Angela your explanations fell on deaf ears, and she made a return for the final race in Abu Dhabi. You had built a routine, and it was going to be tough not waiting outside of his room to start your day together.

It was late Friday night in Abu Dhabi when you got a knock on your hotel room door. You open it to find Angela, looking exhausted and troubled. You wanted to ask her what was wrong but didn’t feel like it was your place to do so. You sensed it wasn't your place to pry. Angela walked in and slumped on the couch, letting out a deep sigh. "I have been doing a lot of thinking and talking with my family. I think..." she said before you interrupted her. "Yes, I'll do it," you said, knowing exactly where she was going with her statement. Seeing the relief wash over Angela's face, you knew you had made the right decision. You were tired of being belittled by your boss and not taken seriously, but you couldn't bear to leave the team or the friendships you had built. Above all, you couldn't imagine leaving Lewis behind.

///

2023

It was the second race of the 2023 season in Saudi Arabia, and you stood outside Lewis' hotel room. He quickly opened the door after you knocked. You greeted each other and gathered his belongings, except for his water bottle. "What, you’re not taking everything this time?" Lewis teased as you both headed out. You looked up at him, smiling mischievously. "Change is good, Lewis. You can at least hold your water until we get to the car." Lewis laughed, always amazed at how smart your mouth was. "What did I get myself into with you?" he joked. "You know you love me," you laughed as Lewis opened the car door for you. "Actually, you’re right. I’d love for you to get in this car," he replied with a grin before closing the door and heading to the track.

author's notes: this is my first one shot request. it ended up being 1.8K words, it went longer than i planned. thoughts?

written based from this request.

feel free to send me request or your thoughts. my inbox is always opened

next one shot: we’ve been caught, you might as well post it

#lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton fanfics #black fanfiction #writinginfinite types #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton oneshot #lewis hamilton blurb #writinginfinite writes oneshots #lewis hamilton fluff

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magicalqueennightmare · 3 months

Text

Home

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

You take down Evan and make it back to New Orleans where Elijah awaits

Warning: mention of killing and a tiny smidge of spice

Your phone vibrated in your pocket causing you and Max both to mumble a curse as he spread a shield around you both with his magic, a tactic to make the men looking for the two of you simply look anywhere but the corner the two of you were in.

The Banes twins had figured out Evan had indeed poisoned those on his side against hunters, using witches who wanted a squadron of their own who was capable of taking on things that crawled out of the deepest abyss of hell and every other realm.

The only way to sever the spell would be to kill Evan. The issue with that was it had to be an instantaneous moment of you killing him while the coven Alicia and Max had formed for this stripped his witches of their powers.

That took this hunt from the level of “find the monster and kill it” all of you knew to forming a tactical team of hunters spread across the states. Enchanted coms gave you access to hunters states over trying to pinpoint Evan's exact location. You'd called the kill, everyone understood the importance to you that was being the one to put down this threat.

Once the threat passed Max lowered his shield and grabbed your arm “Come on” the two of you ran for his motorcycle that was parked nearby and nearly dove onto it.

Elijah didn't let his temper out but when another call went unanswered he was considering breaking the phone. “She's been gone for two weeks. She dropped contact three days in. Brother perhaps she moved on” Klaus’ voice hit his ears and he spun to face him “Her Nova is still in storage. Most of her belongings are still in her apartment. Why would she leave all of that behind simply to get away from me?”

The truth was Klaus was trying to provoke his brother by offering a challenge that you simply left because after a few days of your absence he'd seen what it had done to Elijah and Rebekah and tried to locate you himself. No trail of you had been left behind in over a week. Rebekah was distracted by Marcel so his goal was to not let Elijah consider the very real possibility that you may be dead.

“If she comes back near New Orleans we'll know but you can not make her appear in front of you from will alone” he tried to choose his words carefully and could see that they had little effect on Elijah. “I care for her Niklaus. I do not want to consider having lost her this soon after finding her”

You watched Alicia walk across the room time and again, going over the vials of herbs and ingredients that lined the table. Some of those had required some traveling to get your hands on and a few Dean had gotten shipped in on a favor from Ketch.

Your hands moved from muscle memory alone, loading your guns then sharpening your blades. Evan's location had been narrowed down, you had wolves nearby watching that could report back should he move.

This had taken nearly a month. You hadn't spoken to Elijah in so long the truth was you didn't expect him to be waiting on you when you got back to New Orleans. You knew what he'd say had he known what you were doing. He'd ask you to let him handle it. He'd gladly kill Evan and get Klaus to wipe out the witches but you needed to do this yourself.

Max walked in the door and looked from you to his sister “It's time. We've got a half an hour window. It's now or never”

You were exhausted and sore when you practically rolled out of Alicia's car “Sure you don't want me to stick around?” She asked but you shook your head “A witch as powerful as you? Marcel will send people knocking. I'll be ok”

She laughed “Just call if you need anything sweetheart. You should sleep better tonight” you grinned “Oh hell yes”

—----------

You walked into the door of your apartment and dropped the bag of dirty clothes next to the door but took care to push the bag of weapons under the bed where they would be close at hand. You desperately needed to shower.

You thought of Elijah as you walked into the bathroom. You wanted to see him but part of you feared his reaction to how long you'd been gone.

Instead you hit Rebekah's number on your phone as you walked into the bathroom. The moment she answered you heard her breath a sigh of relief “About bloody time! I was afraid you'd fallen off the face of the earth”

You laughed lightly,guilt slipping into your mind “I'm sorry Bek. I just needed to handle this on my own” “I understand the need but a text would've been nice. Elijah has been unbearable” you grimaced slightly “How bad?”

She laughed and the noise wrapped around you. You hadn't realized how bad you'd missed her as well “Let's just say he was ready to set fire state by state until he laid eyes on you again. Klaus had to talk him down” christ if Klaus was being the voice of reason..you closed your eyes “Chances of delaying him knowing I'm back?”

“I can give you maybe half an hour” “You're an angel with fangs Bek” you bid each other goodbye with promise to meet the following day before you laid your phone down on the sink and quickly got into the shower. Evan's blood was still caked on your arms and splashed through your hair. You couldn't face Elijah bloody.

—---------------

You walked out of the bedroom and had just plugged your phone in and sat it on the end table next to your bed when there was a familiar knock at your door. The thought to make him wait flashed through your mind but you pushed it down.

You walked over to the door and looked down at what you were wearing. You'd tossed an oversized shirt and sleep shorts on. He'd seen you in less considering.

You opened the door and he blasted by you into the apartment. “Come on in” you mumbled, the sarcasm in your voice falling flat when you turned to face the vampire standing in the middle of your home. Anger rolled off of him in waves. Instead of his usual suit he was wearing that damn henley again and you wondered if Rebekah had told him to wear that since she knew the effect it had on you.

You shut the door then turned to lean against it with your arms crossed over your chest. You'd done nothing wrong. You owed him no explanation and wasn't about to grovel for his affection. “Rebekah said you've been a bit unhinged?”

He scoffed at your response “Tell me, how would you like me to react? You left and haven't spoken to any of us in a month” “I had business of my own to take care of” you replied and within the blink of an eye he was in front of you, eyes skimming your body “and you didn't trust me with the information of who you were after?”

You uncrossed your arms, placing both palms flat on his chest to give you enough room that his presence wasn't dizzying. He let his hands come to rest on your hips, you didn't protest because in truth you were craving his touch.

“If you respect me Elijah, you'll respect that I had to do this because it was my former fiance that was targeting hunters. I brought the threat to my community, I had to handle it” He nodded slowly “and if you respect me darling the next time you need to go on one of these little missions I simply ask you tell me”

He leaned down enough to be looking into your eyes “I don't like the thought of losing you” you didn't know how to respond. You'd expected a lot out of this but not a confession of not wanting to lose you. You knew how you felt about him but you knew you were human, you'd die probably sooner than later given your life. Were you worth the effort?

You didn't want to give voice to those concerns. You just wanted to feel Elijah. You moved your hands up his chest to hook them around his neck and bring him down into a kiss. The moment your lips touched you let out a light sigh. This was what you'd been missing for weeks. The kiss was hungry and charged, both of you feeling the need to devour the other.

His hands went from your hips to your thighs and he picked you up effortlessly. You gasped at the movement and he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, rolling it against yours. You ground your hips down against his, feeling how his body was already reacting to you.

You were forced to pull away from the kiss in need of air so he moved to your neck, nipping the areas he knew would make you quiver in his touch. “Bed Elijah, please” you moaned and he grinned into your neck “What happened to my smart mouthed little hunter who was ready for a fight moments ago?”

You pulled back and glared at him “You've got five seconds to get me to the bed” before you could get your sentence out completely, your back was on the bed and he was over you “Fast enough?” You shook your head but couldn't hide how your thighs clenched when his hands slipped under your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your bare breasts.

“Please quit teasing” you begged and damn him he had the nerve to smile almost boyishly “I've waited a month to touch you, taste you. You're going to get comfortable and let me enjoy this” you wanted to argue, to throw some sarcastic comment back but the way he was looking at you pulled every thought out of your mind. You nodded slowly and his smile turned from boyish to devilish “Good girl”

—-------------

You could remember the first few times you and Elijah were together. He'd been gentle, almost too gentle. You understood his fear of hurting you. He was strong and had so many years of experience and as much as you loved being held and worshiped there were times you wanted it rougher, to feel his fingertips bruising as he drove into you pushing you over that peak of pleasure.

He'd learned what you liked and was intuitive enough to know just what you needed. Tonight he knew you didn't need soft or gentle, you needed to clear your head of anything but him.

—----------------

You gripped his hair tightly as his tongue worked at your clit, fingers curling over that spot deep inside of you that had your back fighting to arch off the bed despite the fact that one of his arms laid across your stomach held you in place. “Elijah..please…fuck”

You'd already come twice and damn him he was determined to make it a third time before he ever even stripped free of his clothes. You could feel that pressure building in you and the moment he barely let his teeth graze your sensitive flesh you came with a cry of his name falling from your lips. You pushed weakly at his head “Too much…too damn much”

He left one final kiss against you then leaned back to smile up at you “Giving up already?” You wished you had the energy to fully retort but you simply waved at his clothes “You're severely overdressed Mikaelson”

He nodded then stood, quickly stripping his clothes before crawling back up your body slowly,nearly at a human pace. When he reached your lips he caught them in a rough kiss allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue “You look absolutely exquisite like this”

You opened your mouth to respond but he chose that moment to slowly push into you, clearly enjoying the way your mouth fell open and your eyes closed against the stretch. “Tell me what you need” he whispered, unmoving as he placed open mouthed kisses along your jaw taking special care to tease every place he knew would have you clenching around him.

After a moment you opened your eyes to find his gaze locked firmly onto you. You gave him a small smile “Show me how much you missed me” He shook his head with a slight smirk “All my years of living and you may very well be my undoing” a sharp roll of his hips ensured you didn't have the ability to reply beyond a deep moan falling from your lips as your nails dug into his shoulders.

You woke up curled up to Elijah's chest. It wasn't the first time the two of you had spent an entire night wrapped up in each other but the sight of waking up to him next to you was something you'd never grow tired of.

He groaned lightly as he stretched around you “How are you feeling?” You placed a kiss on his chest “Delightfully sore and happy to be home” he smiled at you referring to New Orleans as home. “How long do I have you before Rebekah steals you away?”

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand “You've got a couple hours” he leaned down to pull you into a kiss “In that case, I still have a month to make up for” you felt his hands begin to roam lower and moaned into the kiss. You may have to meet Rebekah for dinner instead of lunch.

#elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson fic #elijah mikaelson x reader #the originals fanfiction #tvd fanfiction

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undead-supernova · 2 months

Text

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

The Room Burned Down

Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

Masterlist

This chapter is based off of Dancing With Our Hands Tied and I'm curious to see what people think about me twisting around the perspective of who is actually relating more to the songs

plot: maybe going to award shows together isn't as fun as you think it's gonna be...so, baby, can we dance through an avalanche?...I'd hold you as the water rushes in...

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: public shaming, some fluff, a hint of spice, arguments, smoking, mentions of addiction, mentions of abuse, mentions of fatphobia

easter egg count: 29

wc: 5.8k

“Do I have to talk to the press?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” your manager, Clara, said, typing away on her phone.

“They’re going to rake me across the coals.”

It had been nearly a month since your first date with him. Despite his hope that the noise would die down, it was only exasperated by the fact that you two hadn’t been seen out in public, sparking breakup rumors. But it was only that he had his promo and you had yours, traveling round and round with no time to rest. You even had outfit fittings for this very event that kept you in two different cities. It hadn’t put any strain on your relationship. If anything, it did the opposite. You lived your own lives, calling when possible. Texting nonstop once you caught a break at the same time. It was all so new for you.

Clara looked at you through the reflection of the mirror, her professional face on. “If they do, just smile and walk away. Thank them for their time. Just try to stay neutral like you always do. You’ll be perfect, I promise.”

Knock.

You peered over at the wall, a smile forming on your lips.

You knew exactly who would pull that move.

Knock, knock, you sent back.

Knock, knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

“Stop it, oh my god.”

A giggle left your lips. “Sorry.”

It was merely a coincidence that Corroded Coffin was getting ready for the American Music Awards on the same floor as you…directly next to you, that is. All by happenstance and absolutely nothing else. There was no coordination whatsoever and if anyone accused you of such a thing, you’d deny it.

But here you were, causing mischief within the first hour of being situated. To be fair, you hadn’t seen Eddie yet, rushed off before Corroded Coffin even showed up. It was whiplash, Clara already spouting off the plans for the night. The time you’d get into the car. When you’d get out. The red carpet. Reminding you how to pose, how to smile. All the while, people floated around you with makeup brushes and endless cups of coffee. Hushed whispers and sighs.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

When you didn’t respond, you watched your door open in the reflection with Eddie stepping in, dodging the assistants and the assistant’s assistant running around. You smiled as you took in his appearance. Loose t-shirt and sweatpants, all cozy and soft. Hair damp, bangs pulled back. You noticed he’d been sat down for makeup, only one of his eyelids dusted in navy eye shadow.

God, you’d missed him.

“What’re you doing in here?” you asked, nearly jumping up to give him the biggest kiss he’d ever received. But when your knees jerked, Clara placed a hand on your shoulder to keep you down. The pout on your lips wouldn’t even sway her.

“You didn’t answer my knock,” Eddie said, trying to sound innocent, placing a hand over his chest. “I thought you were dead.”

You giggled, but Clara only sighed, shaking her head as she fought a smile. “I can’t believe you both. Like toddlers, I swear.” She turned to Eddie. “Get out of here. We leave in two hours, and I know that hair takes at least one. Don’t make me call Paige.”

Eddie sent you a wink from the shadowed eye. “See you later, babe.”

You chuckled. “Bye, Eddie.”

Today was big for the two of you. Big big. You were sitting at a reserved table with Corroded Coffin. Just you, Eddie, Grant, Gareth, Jeff, and Ronnie. All together. In public. On TV.

Your boyfriend would be with you unlike the last few wanting nothing to do with the exposure, usually hiding across the room. But Eddie insisted, only wanting to be near you all night. There for you, rooting for you as you were there for him, rooting for him. Getting to spend time with his close friends and his girlfriend.

Everything was starting to fall into place. The noise was becoming more bearable the more they stayed out of earshot. The world was unable to penetrate the magnificent walls you’d built around your hearts. And if you could just get through tonight without a fuck up or a bout of controversy, everything would be okay.

When you emerged from your hotel room, nearly ten minutes late, you found Eddie waiting for you, dark eyes widened as he looked over your outfit. You were in a Sixties Go-go dancer fantasy with a sparkly pink romper, the straps wrapped around your neck. Tall block-heeled boots reaching your knees. A thick pink boa to drape over your elbows. Dripping in jewels.

An absolute daydream.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Eddie exclaimed, picking you up and spinning you around, the boa floating to the floor. You took in his scent, that beautiful mixture of nicotine and bergamot from whatever cologne he’d started wearing lately. His breath was fresh against your neck, your ear, your jaw. His warmth bleeding through his double-breasted navy suit, textured from the polyester and cherry blossom pattern.

When a nearly silent gasp left your lips, Eddie wasted no time with hiding himself with his hair and nipping at your neck. Your grasp on his shoulders tightened as his fingers dug into your sides. Feeling his tongue lightly flick over the mark made you feel, well, insane. Had it really been an entire month without his breath? Had you really spent an entire mouth with his voice over the phone, guiding you through your orgasms as you whined and begged for him? Had you really gone this long without him?

Despite wanting to pull him back into the room and rip off his ridiculously expensive clothes, you grabbed your boa and his hand before jogging towards the elevator.

Jeff, Grant, Gareth, and Ronnie were already down at the car, probably drinking complimentary champagne and getting ready to sit in the audience for four hours, waiting for their names to be called. You couldn’t blame them. It did get rather boring after a while of the cameras and commercial breaks and announcers and performances. You’d almost been asked to perform, but before you could say yes, they asked Olivia to do it instead. It wasn’t something you minded, but there was a little part of you had felt sad at the loss.

But you were here to have fun, not worrying about who was who or what people had to say about you. Just have fun with the people who knew what real fun was. Be able to survive the night.

Survive. Endure. Have fun.

As you made your way through to the lobby, hand in hand, you glanced over at Eddie again. You couldn’t believe how beautiful he was, always seeming to take your breath away. It was an accurate cliché, but one that couldn’t fully encompass how you felt. Hell, the English language wasn’t even enough.

“You’re a vision in navy,” you complimented, taking him in once again.

“Apparently, it’s a deep Prussian,” he corrected before rolling his eyes.

“Oh, my bad,” you replied sarcastically.

“Hey!”

Paige was storming towards you, scowling.

When you looked at Eddie, he just smiled at her and waved. “Paige, how lovely to see you tonight.”

But Paige merely groaned. “Get your asses to the car.”

“Look how beautiful my girlfriend is.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, Eddie—”

“Cut it, Romeo,” Paige interrupted, shoving you through the door and into the limo with the rest of the band. Everyone cheered, handing you both champagne before clinking your glasses together.

You couldn’t help but look over at Eddie, his grin just as wide as yours.

I’m so in love with you, you thought, so close to letting it fall out. I’m so, so in love with you.

“Come on,” Paige shouted, making you flinch as you watched her signal to the driver. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

As soon as you were let out of the car, Clara led you away from the group, ushering you towards the photo ops and interviews. Men behind cameras called your name, begged for your attention. This was still something you found strange, like being held in a cage. You were to be spectated, gawked at by the public as nothing more than a show. A source of entertainment that extended far beyond your comprehension.

But Clara had trained you for this since the first time you ever stepped out on one of these carpets. You knew how to give them what they wanted. So, you put your hand on your hip. Pivoted every few seconds for different angles. Let the light hit your highlighter at just the right moment. A smirk. A laugh. Shiny smile. Shiny eyes.

It killed you the moment you heard your boyfriend’s name being called from behind you, harmonious with the sound of the rest of their names being shouted out. The photographers were going nuts as they found their way onto the carpet. You wanted to look back at him, wanted to admire how he shone.

Because he did. He always did.

Eddie Munson knew how to shine without even breathing. Without talking. Without smiling. He could part a crowd like it was nothing, could bring everyone to their knees if he merely snapped his fingers. It was undeniable.

Everyone wanted him.

And, dangerously, he was all yours.

“You’ve been busy!”

You chuckled, trying to keep your eyes from flickering over at the camera being shoved in your face. This was the first interview of the night, the first of five. Five. It was something you’d agreed to months ago, but you didn’t realize just how taxing it would feel until the blonde woman in front of you stuck her microphone up to your lips.

“Oh, yeah!” you responded. “With writing the new album and thinking about the next tour and stuff, I’ve just been running around and trying to keep everything in check. Plus, Acacia My Dear means so much to me, I don’t want another album to overshadow that hard work.”

“And I’m sure you get a lot of support from your new boyfriend, Eddie Munson.”

You’d anticipated the mention, mulled it over and let yourself spiral late at night. But nothing prepared you for your dry mouth, for the lump in your throat as you began to scramble for an answer.

“Well, I’ve been really focused on my music,” you responded.

But she wasn’t letting up. “Will there be any songs about him on the new album?”

“I think art is always up for interpretation.” You smiled bigger despite your frustration, looking over her shoulder and pretending to notice someone. “I have to go, thank you.”

But you weren’t out of the woods yet.

“Have you collaborated with your boyfriend on anything?”

“I really like to write by myself. The songwriting and the music are so important to me. Obviously, it’s important to the people who are so talented in different ways. I’m just grateful that people seem to care about it as much as I do.”

“You and Eddie are so different. How does that translate at shows like this?”

“I think everyone is here because they’re successful and talented at what they do. I can only hope that I measure up tonight.”

“Do you think Corroded Coffin has a chance tonight?”

“Everyone here is so talented. I hope that everyone gets a chance to shine as much as they do. I know that winning isn’t everything, but I hope I have a good shot.”

“Is your new album influenced by Eddie’s sound at all?”

“I’m talented and successful because of the sound I’ve cultivated and what I do. I think that I will continue to evolve as an artist and as a songwriter and, for me, I believe that I have been doing just that.”

Four more interviews and each one talked about Eddie and not your music. Not your success. You hissed to your publicist that no one was allowed to even mutter Eddie’s name in an interview again and she furiously nodded and apologized. Clara nearly told you to cool it, but you stormed off into the venue. You didn’t want to hear from her. You’d done your fucking job.

When you spotted Eddie inside talking to Grant, you immediately found yourself in his arms. Away from the cameras. Away from the vultures.

“Eddie.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, rubbing your back.

“I think I’m gonna cry,” you gasped, anxiety flooding your system. Your hands were shaking, mind frenzied by the noise and the people and the fucking embarrassment.

“No, hey. It’s alright. Tell me what happened.”

You pulled back, but Eddie kept his hands on your waistline. Kept you close.

“They just kept bringing you up. I tried to steer it all away back to my music, but they just kept going.”

“Hey, they asked me that shit, too.”

“What did you say?”

“I said that my relationship is private, but I’m proud of all your hard work right now. ‘Cause I am.”

Immediately, you felt like a shitty girlfriend. “I should’ve said that. I’m sor—"

“Look at me, baby,” he interrupted, searching your eyes. “Tell me your favorite Beatles song right now. Hm?”

Searching your mind, you were caught on the only lyrics that came to mind.

“Life is very short and there’s no time for fussing and fighting, my friend.”

“‘We Can Work It Out’.”

“And we can,” he replied with a small smile, tapping your chin. You nodded. “Let’s just go sit down with everyone and try to bring the energy back, alright? I’m right here with you, baby. Always.”

But there were other lyrics to that song, ones that echoed even louder.

“Try to see it my way

Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong

While you see it your way

There’s a chance that we may fall apart before too long.”

Everything was turned around, the smiles and the laughter returning you to your senses. Corroded Coffin won the only award they were up for tonight. Naturally. After that, Jeff had pulled out a hidden deck of cards. You, him, Eddie, and Gareth were in a mean game of Go Fish, giggling your way through Gareth trying to cheat.

You were hardly listening when someone said your name onstage. Looking up from your cards, you heard the tail end of it.

“…is about to switch genres, sitting over there with her new boyfriend.” The crowd around you laughed. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?”

You saw Eddie’s hand in your peripheral vision, saw the middle finger starting to lift, and pushed his hand down. No need to make a scene.

“Quick, Eddie. Don’t get too close!”

Without hesitation, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, and Ronnie all stood up and flipped him off. Ronnie even pointed hers directly at the camera filming your reaction.

The audience gasped while other celebs at tables cheered them on.

What the fuck was happening?

Eddie glanced at you before getting up and stepping onto his chair. Slowly, he raised his middle finger.

The crowds roared, the presenter starting to look embarrassed as the whole room turned into chaos. Dozens of pictures captured their defiance, their retaliation.

And you?

Well, you sat there with a neutral expression, already trained in the art of disguising your emotions. Your lips didn’t hold a smile or a frown, something set in the middle. You controlled your eyes to stay in position, refusing to widen or fall half-lidded. Refusing to look up at your boyfriend.

But inside, you were something else entirely.

Full of rage at the jokes, full of fear at the way Eddie’s whole band went to bat for you. Furious at yourself for being unable to find the will to stand up with them. Terrified at what the world was about to say about it. Humiliated that they felt the need to pull a stunt to a stupid joke you’d heard a million times.

“Woah, woah, guys! Calm down!” the presenter said with a shaky laugh. He was clearly not anticipating what was happening. “It’s all jokes, promise. All jokes. Nice organization, though, truly. Anyways, moving on to the next category. Here presenting the award—”

As everyone sat back down, Jeff and Gareth went back to their game like it was nothing.

You turned to your boyfriend. “Eddie—”

“No,” he said simply, his eyes meeting yours. “I can’t just let them do that. People have to know that it’s not okay.”

“Eddie, they’re gonna talk about us,” you said, noticing your southern accent bleeding through. Fuck. “Y’all can’t just do that. Think of tomorrow, think of—”

“And the nominees are for Best Pop Album are…”

You had to look away, remember where you were. Because that was your name they were saying up there, yourface they were zoning in on.

And it was you that everyone was looking at as you were declared the winner.

You began standing, Eddie helping to pull out your chair. Turning to him, you thought about kissing him, thought about hugging him. Thought about giving him any sliver of physical affection while the world was watching.

His hand reached out for yours, but you gave him a small smile before dipping your head and walking toward that stage. Alone. Without anyone by your side to help you up the steps. The applause was nearly deafening, the support seemingly louder than before.

But you had to focus, clearing your throat as you took the shiny award, resembling a shard of glass ready to pierce your skin at a moment’s notice. You reminded yourself of where you were, what you were doing. What you had to do. Face the world yet again.

Leaning into the microphone, you began.

“I’d really like to thank my record label for giving me the opportunity to explore new sounds and trusting me with the writing and producing process. Acacia My Dear is obviously a play on the Beatles song and I was so inspired to create an album centered around a fictional version of myself that I created. To tell that story was so euphoric and beautiful.” A few cheers sounded. “My art is what keeps me going and I’ll never stop loving it. Never. Um,” you stumbled, looking back out at the crowd before back at your award.

There were words on your togue.

I’d like to thank Eddie for being so supportive these last five months.

But you only shook your head.

“So, yeah, this is for the fans and the many, many young queer women out there who want to make music. Y’all—” you paused, careful to switch your accent back. “You all can do it and you can be successful.” You lifted the award high into the air. “If I can, you can, too. Thank you.”

You’d made it to the vacant bathroom, made it to the sink in time to feel yourself start to lose it.

This wasn’t the time to lose it.

You couldn’t.

But you were.

Being an outcast in high school was something you had in common with Eddie. While your circumstances differed and you didn’t know much about his past, you knew that you were both given the same nickname. Freak. You weren’t too sure exactly how you were supposed to be much of a freak, but you’d been labeled as such since grade school. It was always something new, from your interests to your appearance to whatever you said or did in class. The punchline to bets made by boys in the name of sheer boredom.

But girls and boys are both cruel. And whoever said boys shouldn’t hit girls never went to your schools. You were pushed into walls. Punched. Called names. Cyberbullied once emailing became a thing. Humiliated on social media once that came around. You were ugly, fat. Freak. A wannabe musician who had no talent. Freak. A loner who sat by herself and wrote during recess because nobody liked you enough to let you to play with them. Freak. Booed when you sang at your talent shows, left uninvited to sleepovers and birthday parties.

Freak.

The only thing you held sacred was your music that you recorded on GarageBand and uploaded to YouTube and Soundcloud, back when all of that was way more popular. It gained traction somehow, your song “High Walls” getting thousands upon thousands of views and praise. A record label saw the spike and took a chance on you, thinking you were talented enough at eighteen to make it big.

And you did.

But you still had nightmares about those days. Spent time in therapy talking about how ridiculous you felt that you were still haunted by teenage girls and boys, all surrounding you with hollering laughter and pointed fingers. How you still heard their words echo in your mind whenever you looked online and saw the vile things being said about you. Still felt the sting of salt in your wounds whenever friends you’d made would stab you in the back.

The sound of heels brought you back to your reality, brought you back to the faint hum of the performance on the other side of the theater. For a moment, you thought that maybe Ronnie or Clara decided to see if you were okay.

But you were disappointed to find some actress you forgot the name of. You recognized her face and nothing more. Her dark hair curled down to her shoulders, showered in golden eyeshadow and body glitter. She recognized you immediately, eyebrows shooting up at the mere sight of you.

But she kept moving to the other side, holding her words back. You knew they were coming, anticipated them as she got settled. Her lips wrapped around a vape, her back and one red pump pressed against the wall.

Crossing her arms, she began her prodding. “Some show, huh?”

You only shrugged.

“Want a hit?”

You looked at her, seeing that the offer was coming from a place of understanding rather than passing judgment or niceties. Because her mouth was scrunched up to the side, like she felt bad for you. Like she was genuinely just trying to figure out how to help.

And though you never really smoked cigarettes all that often, you took it from her and pulled a long drag. Well, maybe too long. The rush of nicotine hit you hard, dizzying before you felt the release. Like you were flying, like you were escaping from whatever hell you were being trapped in. And it was fleeting, the moment ending as soon as the cloud of smoke left your lips.

You handed it back to her. “Thanks,” you said with a breathy laugh. The familiar taste of MAC lipstick lingered on your tongue.

“Yeah, no problem.”

Thinking the interaction was over with, you went back to looking at yourself. Your mind was close to clearing, was so close to being brought back from the brink of madness. If you could just get through the night without another hiccup or mistake, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe if you stayed perfectly calm—

“Eddie Munson, huh?”

You refrained from letting out a scoff, your impulse control not strong enough to keep you from throwing up your hand before it slapped against the counter.

“Yeah. Eddie Munson.”

She noticed your irritation but didn’t get upset. She only watched you, tilting her head as she took another drag.

“What’s he like?”

The question rang in your head, echoing around you like there were a million voices asking at once. Because he was the one that everyone wanted, the one everyone gravitated towards. He was yours but he was also everyone else’s. Even if you could separate the two, could extract him from their narratives and stories, they would still be there. All rallied behind him like an army following blindly in his honor.

But it wasn’t like they would do the same for you, was it? No, you were an outsider to the genre, to the subculture that he was in. You were just some popstar who didn’t get it, didn’t get him. Chasing a momentary high like that drag you took. Here one second, gone the next. Lulling him into the haze before fading into the gray. And you realized that even if you were given the chance to be with him forever, a chance that now seemed extremely slim, you would never truly be the sole person who got to keep him.

Loving him forever comes with a cost.

Looking back at your reflection, you sighed.

“A dream.”

Before you gave her any time to respond, you left.

Your ride back to the hotel was quiet, Eddie’s breathing becoming ragged with every red light they endured. He was worrying you, not even looking you in the eye when you got back to your seat. For the rest of the night. When you got a car together. When you stepped into the lobby. The elevator.

But then Eddie was taking off his blazer, trudging down the hallway, the boom of his combat boots bouncing off the walls.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” you asked, trying to keep up.

“You barely even touched me the whole night.”

“Y’all stood up and made a scene!”

“Because he was being a goddamn prick.”

“I know, but that’s why you just don’t give them a reaction! It just causes more attention and then people think you do it because you want attention and then it just gets spun into something it’s not because people love drama—"

“No,” Eddie said harshly, turning around to face you. “I don’t care about that. I don’t care about the fucking internet. I wanted to congratulate you on your win and yet you just walked away. It hurt.”

“What you guys did hurt me. It was unprofessional.”

Eddie stopped then, pausing to really look at you for what felt like the first time since the band stood up.

But he had no time to respond.

“Hey, what the fuck are you yelling at him for?!” Ronnie shouted down the hall, her boots just as loud as his.

She really did look a lot like Eddie, with the same curly hair and hardened stare. The same protective nature, the same wild heart. But her eyes were void of any compassion, any sympathy. She was fucking pissed, and it was only directed at you.

You narrowed your eyes. “Did y’all ever think about how I’d feel about it? It was tough enough to publicly sit—”

“I’m so sorry that sitting at a table with your boyfriend and his friends is such a chore for you.”

Behind her, Gareth, Grant, and Jeff approached, their laughter cut short at the intensity of her words. Eyes trained on the scene in front of them. All three men silent, all three men watching the showdown that you didn’t ask to be a part of.

“Ronnie,” Eddie said. It sounded more like a warning, but she was still looking at you, still ready to pounce.

And so, she did.

“You’re a coward,” Ronnie seethed. “You’re lucky to have someone like him and I know you’ll gladly throw it away just because it isn’t the fucking fairytale you imagined. This is real life, sweetie. I know you sit there in your fantasy world with your sugarcoated lyrics and your fake smile. Too afraid to let anyone know how you really feel. Too afraid to hold your boyfriend’s fucking hand. A goody two-shoes who does nothing but cry about how unfair her life is even though you have everything you could ever need.

“You think you’re risking everything for him? For us? No. You’re not risking a goddamn thing if you just sit there and take it. Avoid it. Act like it’s not happening. We stood up for you because we fucking care about Eddie and Eddie cares about you. We didn’t have to do that. We could’ve just let him make fun of you for three more hours and let you get humiliated. But we did that, and I don’t care if you didn’t like it. You needed help. And you’re an idiot for acting like this has anything to do with professionalism.

“You’re nothing but a coward. I can only hope you’ll change your fucking attitude for Eddie’s sake. But if you’re going to keep acting like this, you need to leave him and us the hell alone. Don’t drag someone into your fucking mess if you can’t clean it up.”

You tried not to cry in front of her, tried not to give in to bending and breaking of your soul. Her speech was loud, deafening, ringing in your ears like waves crashing into each other. Instead of replying, you turned and ran into your hotel room and slammed the door behind you. Sobs escaped your lips as you did everything you could to take all that shit off. Threw the boa on the floor. Threw your shoes at the headboard. Let your jewelry land wherever the fuck it wanted.

But your romper was harder, sticking to your skin with the sweat and nerves and—

The door opened, Eddie rushing into the room like it was burning down. And in some ways, it really felt like it. The heat and the sweat and the nerves and the way Ronnie shot those flaming arrows, the way it set your brain afire. The way it was starting to spread.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry about Ronnie. She gets really protective of me; it’s been a thing since we were kids—"

“Maybe this is too much,” you interrupted, “Maybe she’s right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone less messy. Less cowardly.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you suggesting we break up?”

“I just,” you started, watching his eyes start to widen. “I don’t know. I feel like your whole life is being thrown into chaos because of me and I don’t want you having to change your whole life or fuckin’ feel the need to defend me on national television. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to Grant and Gareth and Jeff and Ronnie.”

“Baby, I want you, okay? I’m willing to push through the bullshit if it means that I’ll get to fucking see you at the end of the day or week or even month. You’ve changed my life.”

You shook your head. He was lying, he had to be. Or he was living in delusion, riding on that fucking fairytale that Ronnie claimed you’d created. That wasn’t his reality, wasn’t yours.

“You just don’t understand, Eddie!”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. “I know this is hard on you. I know. But you’re not the only one hurting, okay? I don’t like this any more than you do, and I don’t think it’s fair that you’re acting like I don’t get it. People call me a man whore or a player or whatever. And even though I recovered, people still think I’m a fucking cokehead. That shit is brutal. I’m not this crazy person who does what all the bands did in the Sixties or Seventies. Hell, even the Eighties and Nineties.”

Your eyebrows pulled in tight at his admittance.

“It sickens me,” he continued, his stare intensifying. “I’m just a loser who got lucky and got out of a shitty small town.” He gestured away from himself. “I’m still that loser. That freak. And I was never given a chance by girls after we blew up—hell, most guys laughed at me. I had to just figure this out for myself, and I,” he gestured back to himself, “have chosen to remove myself from it. Remove myself from that picture they’ve painted for me. And then I found someone who fucking understands.”

As you listened, Eddie’s hand came back down, brushing against yours before weaving your fingers together.

“Someone who sees the world like I do and chooses me despite it being so…so loud. And you have spent your life thinking you have to do this alone. I get it. So did I. But one thing I’ve learned that you haven’t is that you don’t have to do this alone. We got you. I got you.”

“This is going to look so bad for you,” you whispered, tears running down your cheeks.

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t care.”

Your head shook for you, rapidly denying his words.

“And the rest of the band.”

His fingers met the back of your head, trying to soothe you as he rubbed circles into the muscles.

“I don’t care.”

Your eyes searched his as you tried to make sense of it all, make sense of the fact that he was still here. He hadn’t left. He’s saying things that no one, no one, had said to you before and meant so fervently.

“And me,” you finished, barely above a whisper.

He paused for a split second, long enough for you to catch it before he finally looked away, tucking his lip into his mouth.

His forehead bumped against yours, taking a deep breath. You did the same, breathing him in as you tried to find the will to stay.

To fight.

To keep whatever the hell it was that you had.

“Baby, I want to be with you.” His eyes shot back up to yours, tears collecting in his eyes.

“And I want our privacy. Trust me, I understand how you feel. But I still want to go outside and be as normal as we can. I wanna go get dinner and coffee and do whatever the fuck we want. I want to post a picture of you and dedicate my songs to you and be open and whatever the fuck else I want.”

“I feel the same way.”

“I know you do, baby. That’s why I want you to understand me. I want the same things you do, and I want us to figure out a solution together. I know we can do it. I just know. So don’t…don’t go.”

You closed your eyes, choking on a sob as you tried to make sense of it all. How he could still be here, fighting for you to keep going.

“Eddie…”

His hands clutched onto yours as he sniffled. You felt his tears landing on your skin.

“Stay.”

This was messy. You were messy. A big, huge, ginormous mess that was getting in the way of everyone else’s happiness. Being everyone else’s disappointment. It was only a matter of time before you fucked up and ruined this. Ruined him.

But he’s still there, asking you not to leave.

“Is it really that simple?” you asked.

“Look at me.”

And you did, watching his tears cascade down his cheeks. Watching as his face grew desperate, watching as his lip quivered.

“Please, don’t go. Stay.”

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #Eddie Munson x female reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie x you #rockstar!Eddie x popstar!reader #I nearly cried thinking this was the worst thing I'd ever written so I hope I did okay #surprise drop of this chapter lol

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jpmarvel90 · 9 months

Text

PR Relationship

Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist

Word Count: 3110

Relationship: Scarlett x Singer Reader

Summary: Y/n and Scarlett are in love with each other and have a secret relationship that only a select few know about. Things change when Y/n finds out that Scarlett may have her eyes on someone else.

(I do not own the rights to the lyrics, I just think this sounds fits the story perfectly. It’s Secret Love Song by Little Mix.)

Y/N’s POV:

For the last 3 months, I have been dating the beautiful Scarlett Johansson. However, as she hasn’t come out yet, it was a complete secret with only Lizzie Olsen knowing the truth. At first it didn’t bother me at all. It was exciting. The sneaking around was fun and trying to sneak dates and kisses without being caught was exhilarating. But the last couple of weeks have started to get tiring. If ever I stay over, she’s kicking me out at like 5am so I don’t get caught by the paps, we never travel anywhere together and I’ve lost count of the amount of times she’s totally changed her demeanour around me because someone has walked by us.

Don’t get me wrong, I completely understand that Scarlett is scared of coming out. I’ve already done that and it wasn’t easy. I would never push her to do anything she’s uncomfortable with. But it’s starting to hurt, it feels more like she’s hiding me rather than protecting herself. Thing is, I love her and I’m willing to wait for her. Which is the problem, I’m scared this might break me.

So here I am, 4:30 in the morning tiptoeing around her bedroom getting ready to sneak out. I don’t want to wake her, she’s been so busy at work she deserves a good rest. I throw on some sweatpants and a hoody whilst picking up my underwear from the floor after last night’s activities. I leave a gentle kiss on Scarlett’s forehead before slipping out of the house, unheard, into the early morning.

As I’m sat in my car I can feel the exhaustion seeping through my body. I had been spending most nights at Scar’s which meant I was only getting a few hours sleep and it was starting to catch up with me. I’ve got to be at the studio at 8am so I decide there is no point in heading home. Instead I make my way to the beach to watch the sunrise and go for a swim. There’s no better way to start my day. Well other than getting to sleep in my girlfriends arms past 5!

I get to the studio early and I start having all of these thoughts in my head which I start to collate and write down. Lyrics forming as I write. I’ve not felt this inspired for a long time

We keep behind closed doors

Every time I see you, I die a little more

Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls

It'll never be enough

It’s not until I start to pull the lyrics together that I realise how much this whole situation is hurting me. By the end of the day it’s all starting to come together, the quickest that I have ever written a song. My team love it and are already planning for me to sing it on Jimmy Kimmel. I push back though. It’s not fair to Scarlett to hear about my feelings through an interview. But writing the song has helped, I’m feeling better already.

As I get into the car I check my phone. I’ve not spoken with Scarlett all day. That’s not unusual as for us though. But a smile forms on my face when I see a message from her.

Scarlett:

Hey Babe, thanks for this morning. I really needed that sleep. I know you’re in the studio all day so can’t talk. I’m working late but perhaps you could come over tomorrow? Love you xx

Me:

Hey Scar, no problem, you need your sleep! Tomorrow would be great. Love you too xx

The next evening I’m sat on the sofa in Scarlett’s living room her legs draped over mine as we watch TV. She has her laptop resting on her legs finishing up the last bit of work before she’s done for the day. I’m just sat scrolling through my phone when I seeing articles popping up about Scarlett and her new partner. We’d been so careful to not been seen together in more than a friendly capacity. In fact, by the way we act in public you wouldn’t think we were that close as friends.

But then my heart stops, the articles aren’t referring to me but Chris Evans. What the fuck?! I can feel my heart beating faster like it’s going to beat out of my chest. Then I click on one article, “Co-Stars Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans spotting kissing on a dinner date.” A photo accompanying it. That was yesterday! I sit up with a jolt feeling like I was going to be sick. My God she’s cheating on me and she’s not even trying to hide it!

“Hey what’s wrong Babe, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Scarlett says concerned looking over her laptop to me. I try to speak but I can’t form words. I can see her starting to get worried as she puts her laptop down on the table and goes to put her arm on my back. I’m quick to pull away and just throw my phone in her direction. She looks at the screen and her eyes grow wide.

“Y/N this isn’t what it looks like, I swear. Please..” Running my hands through my hair I stand up not even able to sit next to her. “I mean it looks like you’ve got your tongue down Evans’ throat. Not sure what else it could look like Scarlett!” I say coldly trying so hard not to yell. “Is this why you hid me? Not wanting anyone to know. Am I the dirty little secret to keep until you have Evans?” Pacing round the room I can feel my chest get tighter and my breathing becoming erratic.

“NO! I’m not cheating on you Y/N, I love you!” “THEN WHAT IS THIS!” So much for not shouting. I can feel my heart breaking in two. “Please just let me explain. With the new Avengers movie coming out our teams thought it would be good PR if we got some rumours going about being in a relationship. We had lunch and dinner dates here and there making sure to look like a couple for the paparazzi. I promise you Y/N there is nothing going on.”

I immediately stop my pacing, turning to her in disbelief. “So you can’t tell anyone about me, but you’re happy to go along with a fake relationship for you movie. Great, good to know where I sit in your priorities. Did you even consider telling me, it’s weird but I would have understood? Instead I find out by finding a picture of you kissing!” I can’t stop the tears anymore, but I won’t let her see me sob.

“Y/N please…” Scarlett grabs my hands trying to get me to look at her. “I-I can’t do this anymore.” I whisper pulling my hands away. “Wait, what do you mean? Y/N?” she says in a scared tone. “I’ve spent the last 3 months doing everything you ever asked. I never pushed for you to do anything you were uncomfortable with, even if it was at a detriment to me. I was waiting for you to be happy in yourself that you could share us with the world. I have always put your first. I knew this could break me and it has. I need to put myself first this time as it’s evident you won’t.” Turning my back on her I grab my things and walk towards her door.

I can hear her running up behind me and she grabs my shoulders spinning me around. “No, you can’t go. I’m so sorry Y/N, I love you, please you can’t leave me. Don’t go we can work this out.” Looking in her eyes I can see the pain. Her cheeks are stained with tears. “We don’t need to work anything out Scar, you do. I just hope you find happiness one day without having to hide yourself way.” With that I walk out, my heart tearing from my chest. A part of me just wishing that one day she might be ready for this relationship as a whole.

Scarlett’s POV:

I had really fucked this up. I hadn’t slept for days and had shut myself away, calling in sick to work to avoid seeing anyone. I had never felt pain like this. Y/N was my world. I love her with all my heart. I had always intended to tell the everyone but it just felt too hard and she was so great at giving me time. But this PR relationship with Chris was by far the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. This isn’t me, I don’t intentionally hurt people but it feels like I did with Y/N.

Whilst in my cave of self-pity and depression I hear banging on the door. Dragging myself up I find an angry Lizzie stood there with her Wanda head tilt. Shit that’s terrifying! “What the fuck Scar?!” She huffs pushing herself into my house. “Well hello to you too Lizzie” I half chuckle. “You broke her when all she has ever done is put your first. I warned you that you needed to be honest with yourself or you’ll lose her.” She’s angry but her tone softens when she sees the state I’m in. “Geeze Scar when was the last time you slept?” She said pulling me in for a hug. “I can’t sleep without her.” I whisper tears starting to form in my eyes.

We move to the sofa and she takes my hands in hers. “From what I hear, Y/N didn’t get much sleep with you. Staying up til God knows when with you then being kicked out at 5am. Did you not notice how tired she’d been?” I just shake my head in shame. “I’ve screwed up Lizzie and I don’t know how to get her back. I’ve told my team I won’t go ahead with the fake relationship anymore but I know I need to do so much more than that to show her I’m in this for the long run.” I don’t dare even speak that I’m terrified that I’ve lost her forever, in fear that speaking it will make it true.

“Scarlett, you need to decide what scares you the most. Coming out and fearing people will see you differently, or losing Y/N, the woman you are madly in love with, for good. Just don’t take too long in making that decision or it could be too late.” She pulls me into a hug and we lie together on the sofa. “I miss her Lizzie” I sniffle. “Well, she’s performing on Jimmy Kimmel. How about we watch that?” I nod and she grabs the remote switching over to her performance.

Y/N’s Performance:

Jimmy: Performing her latest single, please welcome to the stage, Y/N Y/L/N!

The lights dim with a sole spotlight shining on Y/N who is sat at a piano. She starts to play as the notes ring out through the studio.

We keep behind closed doors

Every time I see you, I die a little more

Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls

It'll never be enough

As you drive me to my house

I can't stop these silent tears from rolling down

You and I both have to hide

On the outside where I can't be yours and you

Can't be mine

But I know this

We got a love that is homeless

Why can't I hold you in the street?

Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't it be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't I say that I'm in love?

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't it be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

It's obvious you're meant for me

Every piece of you, it just fits perfectly

Every second, every thought, I'm in so deep

But I'll never show it on my face

But we know this, we got a love that is homeless

Why can't you hold me in the street?

Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't we be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't I say that I'm in love?

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't we be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

I don't wanna live love this way

I don't wanna hide us away

I wonder if it ever will change

I'm living for that day

Someday

When you hold me in the street

And you kiss me on the dance floor

I wish that we could be like that

Why can't we be like that

'Cause I'm yours, I'm yours

Oh, why can't you hold me in the street?

Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't it be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't I say that I'm in love?

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't we be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't we be like that

Wish we could be like that

The lights faded as the camera zoomed in close enough to see that Y/N was crying before the stage went dark and the audience erupt in applause.

Scarlett’s POV:

Lizzie and I just sat there in silence. I could hear the pain in her voice and it hurt me to know that it was me that caused it. I was pulled out of my trance by Lizzie squeezing me into a tight hug whispering in my ear. “If this didn’t help you decide then I don’t know what will.” She was right, the only person who I care about is Y/N. I’m not scared anymore. I’m going to win her back.

I’m up all night with Lizzie working a way out that I can come out and show my love for Y/N. An Instagram post didn’t seem like enough and a press release was too impersonal. It needed to be something special, and that’s when Lizzie came up with a risky but perfect plan. I just hope that she could forgive me and we can start out lives together a fresh.

Timeskip

It was a week later and here I am sat in the back of Y/N’s limo. She just doesn’t know it. It’s the night of the Grammy’s and Y/N is up for an award. I’m so proud of her and it’s time to show her that she is my number one priority. Lizzie’s grand plan so far had worked. We spoke with Y/N’s team and I explained the whole situation. Her manager was surprisingly nice about and said that it explained a lot about her behaviour recently. She had agreed to arrange a secret plus one for Y/N. I would wait in her car to surprise to walk down the red carpet with her, as her girlfriend. I just hoped she wouldn’t kick me out on the curb.

My heart rate starts to pick up as I hear her talking as she walk towards the car. God I’ve missed that voice. The car door opens and she gets in letting out a slight sigh as she sits. It takes her a moment before she notices me sat there with a nervous smile on my face and she jumps “Jesus Scar, you scared the shit out of me.” We both let out an awkward chuckle. “What are you doing here?” She asks not quite able to maintain the eye contact. This is it, the moment I win my girl back.

I put my finger under her chin and lift it so she’s looking at me. My God she is breathtakingly beautiful! I then take both of her hands in mine taking a deep breath “Y/N. Since the day I met you, I knew I was going to fall madly in love with you. Every day I spent with you I fell more and more in love. No one has ever made me as happy as you do. I know it’s only been 3 months but I know you are the women I want to spend the rest of my life with. I screwed up, I know I can’t take that back. I was so paralysed with fear about coming out and people’s reaction to it, that I didn’t think about you and our relationship. I just let you carry on making the sacrifices for me. But today that changes. I love you with all my heart and I’m not prepared to lose you again. I am so fucking proud of what you have achieve this last year. You deserve everything you are going to get tonight. And…. If you’ll have me… I want to be there for you every step of the way. No more hiding. I want to walk down that red carpet on your arm as your proud girlfriend. And then I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.”

There is a long silence as her eyes flicker between my own trying to get a read of me. I hope she can see how sincere I’m being, that I mean every word that I’m saying. “Don’t hurt me again. I don’t think I can survive if you do.” She whispers. The biggest smile appears on my face as I reach up and put my hand to her cheek wiping away the stray tear. “I promise I won’t. Can I kiss you?” I ask. “You never have to ask Scar.” And with that I pull her into a passionate kiss. I have missed her lips connecting with mine. It makes me feel complete. “You look absolutely beautiful Y/N. I’m so glad I get to call you mine.” She laughs and pulls me in for another soft kiss.

As we pull up to the venue Y/N grabs my hand. “Are you sure Scar? I don’t want you to do something you’re going to regret.” I look at her and smile. “The only regret I have is not telling the world how much I love you sooner. Let’s do this.” The fear is gone, I’m only excited now. As the door to the limo opens, I see the start of our new life together.

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mcufan72 · 2 months

Text

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki and female reader (AU) / 18+

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Warnings: smutty, protected sex and it might end differently than you expect, contains fluff, angst, morally grey stuff, and uncertainty

Note: this chapter got a bit long (~6.7k words) but I didn't know where to cut

About two hours later, you arrived at the premium five-star hotel in Manhattan. Walker had driven you there and was now opening the limousine's door for you. Loki left the car first and nodded in thanks to Walker before he offered you his hand helping you to get out of the limousine's backseat. You straightened the blazer of your trouser suit and asked him for a minute alone with Walker. Loki walked a few steps away from you two to give you the space to talk to Walker undisturbed.

“You know what to do, y/n? In case he does anything you dislike and doesn't stop doing it?” Walker questioned quietly.

“Yes, pushing the emergency number on my phone,” you answered calmly.

“Right. Please, place it close to you in reachable distance. If you call me, I'll be there in under a minute.”

“Thank you, Walker. You'll be waiting here for me, right?”

“Yes, Ma'am. I'm here. After your date ends, at midnight at the latest, I'll await you within 30 minutes as usual. If you're not back right in time, I'll be looking for you. Promised. Take care, y/n.”

You nodded at Walker and your mouth formed a silent ‘thank you’ and you gave him a shy smile. You felt a bit embarrassed because he knew exactly why you were here and what you were going to do here next. He also knew it was the first time you would spend intimate hours with a client. But Walker was your protector, your support since you worked as an escort lady and he would never judge you.

Loki guided you through the entrance hall to the lift. When you stood beside him in the lift he saw your hands trembling. You were nervous, and so was he. Was this your first time, too? Having paid sex in a hotel? You were an escort lady and you didn't answer his question concerning this issue and it wouldn't be unusual or bad if you'd done it before. He had casual sex with several women, too…but not paid sex yet. But he didn't mind. He just wanted to be together with you and he just hoped you weren't afraid of him. He would never hurt you.

You were so nervous and tried not to show him how much. You wanted to be self-confident and tempting for him. That's what he would pay for and he deserved first-class treatment from you.

“Come,” you said to him when the lift had reached the floor where your room was and took him by his hand. His hand felt good and soft and somehow it took some of your nervousness away.

You opened the door with the keycard and entered the spacious suite. Pure luxury welcomed you two. A comfortable king-size bed with many fluffy cushions and an oversized duvet made of silk, across from the bed a big sofa, and a coffee table with a bowl filled with exotic fruits. A golden champagne bucket with a bottle of the best champagne, next to it a bottle of the best Scottish whisky and of course, two champagne glasses and two whisky tumblers were also placed on the table. Dimmed lights created a comfortable atmosphere and an amazing view over downtown Manhattan through two floor-to-ceiling window fronts crowned this luxury suite.

Next to the bed stood a vanity table and a chair, your small travel bag already waiting there for you, non-visibly and discreetly next to the vanity table. You had some personal things in it, things like spare clothes, additional lingerie, condoms, cigarettes and some toiletries. You stored the bag at REA a few days ago after you had told Rhea you were bookable for the weekends now too. In case you would spend unforeseen intimate hours with a client, Rhea could bring it there and prepare the suite for the tryst. She preferred to do it herself for her escort ladies to ensure that everything was perfectly prepared for them. The suite also enclosed a first-class bathroom with a big bathtub for two and a half-open shower, big enough to dance in it. It also had a floor-to-ceiling window and the view over Manhattan was breathtaking.

While Loki crossed the room to look out of the window you took some things out of your bag. You draped your black kimono with lace-trimmed sleeves over the back of the chair and a bottle of lube and condoms on the nightstand. In long, slow strides Loki went from the floor-to-ceiling windows over to you and took the bottle of lube from the nightstand into his hand. His hand was so big and the bulging veins were such a turn-on for you that you had to suppress a whimper. Did you ever find veiny hands that sexy?

Loki raised an eyebrow. ”Will we need that?” he asked, astonished.

“Depends on how wet you can get me,” you answered with your arms crossed and a smirk curved his lips because of your sassy undertone.

“No one complained so far,” he responded, still smirking and looking deep into your eyes. Gosh, this guy could undress you with just his gaze.

“If you say so,” you said and walked slowly over to the coffee table. You poured some of the whisky into the tumblers and passed one to Loki who already walked over to you.

“Cheers, handsome,” and you raised your glass. You definitely needed a whisky now to calm your nerves down. Loki raised his glass as well and took a sip, never breaking eye contact with you. This gaze…

“We should talk about the conditions now, the rules we have. Do you agree?”

You didn't want to beat around the bush and clarify this issue quickly.

Loki took a seat on the sofa, one arm placed on the backrest and crossed one leg over the other. “Okay, you start,” he offered you.

You took a deep breath. You were trembling inwardly and before you gave him your clear rules and limits you took a further sip of your drink. The whisky slowly warmed your stomach.

“Okay, here we go. I won't do any perverse shit or hard-core sex. No slaps or spanking, no degrading, no anal sex. I won't suck your dick or swallow your sperm. You can go rough on me but you won't get brutal. No extensive foreplay and you will use a condom. No kissing! You won't kiss me on my mouth, you won't kiss any part of my face. Don't you dare mark me in any way! I'm not your property and my body stays markless. You're not my only client and my body is my asset. If you do anything during the act I don't like, I'll let you know and you'll stop doing it. A no is a no. In case you violate my rules, I'll end our fuck session immediately.�� You took a deep breath again, awaiting his reaction to your statement. Your heart raced as if you had run a marathon.

“Any questions?”

Loki stared silently at you, processing every single word you had said. You had been very clear and he understood and accepted your rules and boundaries. He still had some questions because maybe one or two of his rules would collide with one of yours. He also wondered what you were thinking he wanted to do to you. He hadn't even thought about most of the things you said. Yes, he preferred being in control and he was dominant, which didn't mean he disliked the gentle way of sex. But maybe you had different experiences.

“What about some…kinky stuff?” He asked you cautiously.

“Depends on the kink, I'd say. But I have a limited scope for negotiation,” you answered firmly, looking into his eyes. You were still standing at the coffee table and he, still sitting on the sofa, continued staring at you.

“What about a blindfold?” He wanted to know.

"Negotiable."

“Soft bondage?” He took a sip of his whisky.

“What do you want to tie up?” You questioned, irritated.

“Your wrists,” he said, his voice deep and warm.

“No and non-negotiable,” you answered calmly but strictly.

“I don't want you to touch me or my naked skin during the act. That's why I need your wrists tied up. And I want to blindfold you because I don't want you to look at me while we fornicate. Furthermore, I'm always in control and as I already told you, I'm not a tender lover which also means I don't do aftercare,” Loki responded firmly, his voice dark and raspy. “But I'll treat you carefully and with respect,” he said more softly now. “You can rely on it.” His voice was so dark and soft, it sent shivers down your spine.

“Why am I not allowed to touch you?” you were curious about that. Men liked to get touched.

“Why am I not allowed to kiss you?”

“I asked first.”

“I find it unpleasant. I don't really enjoy getting touched especially when it comes to my naked skin, my face or my hair. To get touched there, particularly by a woman I'm not in a relationship with, is too intimate and I don't want that."

That was only halfway true. He knew he could never stand your touch, he would completely lose it, when you would caress his body. And also he would probably kiss the heck out of you, you were too hard to resist. He wanted nothing more than to feel your soft lips on his. But you had forbidden him to kiss you and he had to accept it.

“For me, to kiss a man on his mouth or to get my mouth kissed by him means to be in love with each other. We're not in love with each other, Luke. We're far away from that.”

You sounded harsher than you wanted but you knew if you'd kiss him or he'd kiss you, there would be no way back. And you should better not forget you still had a professional relationship with him.

“That's true, I've nothing to add,” he responded affirmatively.

“Fine, guess that answers that.”

You emptied your whisky and it would be the first and last whisky for tonight. You had to keep your senses clear. You took off your blazer and kicked off your high heels. It was such a relief but you suppress a redemptive sigh. You needed to feel a bit more comfortable before you could go on. Loki's gaze wandered down your body and he couldn't even imagine how much your feet must hurt from these ‘little beasts’. He liked that name you had for your high heels. He appreciated that you wore them for him and accepted the pain they caused. He loved you wearing them, they looked extremely sexy but he didn't want you to suffer for him. He could give you a proper foot massage, that would be a bare minimum he could do for you. Did it count for you as foreplay? If so, he better shouldn't do it.

“Okay, Luke, you can blindfold me if it makes you feel more comfortable but my wrist and hands remain free.”

It was okay for you to not see him but you needed your hands to be untied in case you had to end a possible unacceptable situation or to reach for your phone. You won't discuss it.

“I offer you to put my hands above or behind my head and to keep them there. I promise you I won't touch you,” you told him.

You'd love to run your fingers through his hair, caressing his scalp and tugging at his dark locks. They looked so soft.

“I don't know you well enough to trust you with that. And I cannot allow you to touch me.” Loki placed the whisky tumbler on the coffee table and leaned back again. He looked sceptically at you.

You chuckled in disbelief and placed your hands on your hips. “But I have to trust you with that blindfold, huh? I don't know you well enough either. I cannot even see what you're doing once you're settled between my legs and… fucking me, or what you're doing before that.”

A frustrated laugh escaped your throat. “So we have to find a compromise, Mr. Luke Larsson.” You made a pause. “I allow you to blindfold me and you allow me to keep my hands above my head without tying my wrists… Do we have a deal?” you wanted to know, waiting for his answer.

Loki considered your offer and he couldn't find an argument against it because you were right. He couldn't demand everything from you when he wasn't willing to give something in return. Trust has never been his biggest strength but in your case, it seemed possible for him to trust you with that matter. And damn it, he wanted you so much. He was on edge since you tried to entice him at the gallery so he nodded slowly.

“We have a deal, Miss Sugar Black,” and a mischievous smile curved his lips.

You turned around and went towards the vanity table and sat down on the chair. You took your cigarettes and a lighter out of your bag and onto the table, and you prepared your phone and held it in your hand.

“There are two more things, Luke. I'll keep my phone close to me and our tryst ends at midnight sharp. Got it?”

Slowly like a panther on the way to hunt his prey he stood up from the sofa, took his jacket off and walked over to the bed where you just put your phone on the bedside table.

Loki was already behind you when you stood straight again, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Fine with me,” he murmured. His deep voice made you shiver.

“Is this okay for you?”, he wanted to know while his fingers circled gently on your shoulders.

You tilted your head a bit and you felt his nose nudging your earlobe. He was so gentle. “Yes, it's okay for me, Luke.”

“You always smell so good, Sugar,” and he sniffed your neck. It was tickling you and you tried not to giggle.

“Want me to run a bath for you, for relaxation…I could join you,” you offered him sweetly.

“No, I'm used to bathing alone… do you really want to get laid by me, Sugar?” He whispered into your ear.

“Yeah, I want it, Luke, I want you.” It was the truth and you wouldn't back down. You wanted him more than you thought. He nibbled at your earlobe and down your throat, gently as a feather. You could barely hold back a whimper and you bit on your lower lip.

“I have wanted it since I got to know you, sweet thing. Perhaps I knew it all along, just wouldn't admit it to myself. Does it scare you?” His hands wandered down your arms and his mouth lingered on the skin of your neck, his breath fanning along your throat. Your body was immediately covered in goosebumps. The firm muscles of his torso were tightly pressed against your back, his hard-on pressed against your ass.

“No, other things scare me more and they have nothing to do with you.” Your voice wasn't more than a whisper.

“I want to show you pleasure, sweet thing, pleasure you've never felt before,” His voice was pure velvet, his breathing calmly and evenly.

“You don't know that, you don't know me, Luke” you answered silently.

“I can sense it, Sugar. The way your body responded to mine when we danced, how it responds to mine now and the way you look at me, gives it away. But I won't force you, I only take what you're willing to give me.”

How could you deny him? You have never met anyone like him. Dark, arrogant, magnetic, seductive, hot as hell but also caring, gentle and interested without being intrusive. He scared you sometimes, with his piercing stare right into your soul, his whole behaviour and his subtle possessiveness, the way he had held you in his arms and grabbed your wrist as if you were his. You should be completely terrified by him but you weren't. You maybe should stay away from him but you couldn't. You were aroused in a way you had never been before and you wished for nothing more than spending more time, more dates with him. But he might not book you again after tonight after he finally had you in the sheets and his carnal desires were satisfied. You wanted to give yourself to him even if you knew you might not satisfy him or be able to feel the pleasure he promised you.

Loki was so hard already and he wished he had more time with you. Your soft body closely pressed against his, felt so perfect and he wanted to enjoy every minute with you to the fullest but time was ticking. He didn't know how long he would last tonight. He hadn't been with a woman for too long and you were so cute and seductive. He saw you unbuttoning your blouse and he helped you to take it off. Your trousers followed and then you were just in your white lace underwear. You slowly turned around to face him. You curled one arm around his neck, and with your other hand, you began to unbutton his shirt, the silk scarf still around his neck. He would use it later for another purpose. At your sight in that white lace, he could hardly restrain himself. You looked so innocent and enticing at the same time. When you had unbuttoned his shirt completely you tugged it out of his slacks and unbuckled his belt. His hands lingered on your hips when you cupped his still-clothed but rock-hard manhood and felt him throbbing in your hand.

“How do you want me?” you asked him so gently that he couldn't believe you just did a job here and how easy you made it for him to forget about that. He slipped one of the straps of your bra off your shoulder, pushed it down your arm and caressed your skin tenderly. He felt you shivering. He hoped you weren't scared.

“I want you on the bed, on your back. ”

“I want to leave my bra on,” you whispered.

“No problem, sweet thing and I leave my shirt on,” he answered, holding your gaze and giving you a little smile.

Loki laid you gently down on the bed. He looked so unbelievably sexy with his open shirt. His chiselled chest with the right amount of soft, curly chest hair, his defined abs and his trimmed happy trail beneath his belly button made your mouth watering and you wanted to lick and bite every inch of his perfect torso. His whole body was pure sin but you weren't allowed to touch his naked torso.

You were relieved that you could leave your bra on. It lets you feel less vulnerable and more safe. You couldn't really explain it but you felt better with your bra on. Maybe it was the same for him with his shirt. When you lay down on the bed, he followed you promptly. You were on your back as he asked you to do. He laid on his side right next to you, propped up on one elbow and cupping your breast, his thumb tenderly teasing your nipples through the lace, one after the other. They hardened instantly under his touch and it let your clit throb with desire and your arousal drenched your thong. He stripped his scarf from his neck and you knew what would follow.

“Are you ready, Sugar?” You nodded yes. “I need your words, sweet thing,” he demanded.

“Yes,” it was more of a squeak, you could barely speak because of desire and nervousness. But you were sure he'd stay true to his words and would not harm you. He covered your eyes with his scarf and tied the ends behind your head above your hair bun together, avoiding too much pressure on your eyes. You were afraid and aroused at the same time. Was that even possible?

“Hands above your head… don't move them and don't remove the blindfold from your eyes.” he stated.

“I won't, I promise,” you answered silently.

You felt him leaving the bed to get rid of his shoes, socks, his trousers and underwear. His shirt stayed on, he just rolled up the sleeves. He came back to you and laid down again. You expected him to quickly fuck you but he took his time with you. You felt his engorged cock pressed against your thigh. He must be aching for relief, he must've been on edge the whole evening …just because of you. You should give him his relief soon, you didn't want to torture him further. You spread your legs for him so he could settle between them. But he made no effort to penetrate you immediately.

He didn't kiss any part of your body. You just felt his nose and his mouth brushing softly over your skin. He started at your throat down to your cleavage, dipping down between the swell of your breasts, further down to your belly button and your hips, his hands slowly sliding down your sides. In one swift move he pulled your thong down and you lifted your legs so he could get it off of you completely. He grazed his lips over your pubic mound and you voluntarily spread your legs for him again and you felt his soft mouth on your pussy lips. Goosebumps, all over your body were goosebumps. Your nipples were hardened further and you suppress a moan. He gave your clit a few gentle licks before he made his way upwards again over your tummy to your throat and your ear.

Everything felt so much more intense because you were robbed of one of your senses and his wonderful scent added to your arousal. You didn't expect such feelings, you didn't expect such tender treatment. Luke could do anything to you but he was patient and careful. You weren't used to it and it irritated you, not in a bad way though but you were just used to quickies or a man just having it his way. Why must he be so tender and caring, you could barely handle it and you should better not get used to it because he wasn't yours and you would likely never see him again after tonight. You were glad you couldn't look at him. If you could look into his beautiful eyes it would be your undoing and you couldn't allow this to happen.

“Are you sure you want this? Do I still have your consent?” He whispered into your ear.

“Yes, go on.” You said it harsher than you intended to.

He got up on his knees and shifted to the side. You immediately missed his warmth and his body close to yours. You heard him unfoil a condom and shortly after, he caged you beneath him and you felt the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance. Why were you so wet? Have you ever been so wet? You never became that wet so quickly. And there hadn't been much foreplay. You didn't even need the lube. What was wrong with you?

“May I?”

“Yes, just go on,” you said impatiently. You were irritated because of your bodily reaction you didn't expect in this situation.

“Don't move your hands, Sugar! Don't even think about touching me!” he murmured darkly.

“And you don't even think about kissing me!” You responded.

“Do I have your consent?” He questioned again.

“Why are you asking again? You talk too much!” you whispered.

“Just to be sure,” he growled.

“Keep going before I change my mind,” you growled quietly back.

When he carefully penetrated you, slowly and inch by inch, a deep moan escaped your mouth you didn't know you were capable of. You had never felt that full and it felt good. Unfortunately, it felt good and when he began to move in and out of you, it felt even better. No, no, no you shouldn't enjoy it, you shouldn't allow yourself to like it that he made you feel good. And anyway he wouldn't last very long, would he? Just two or three minutes more and he would be done. That's the way it always has been in former relationships. You were used to being left high and dry. You weren't even in a relationship with Luke, he was just your client so how dare he give you that good feeling? And he made it worse with his nose in the crook of your neck, his toneless moans and his chest rubbing over your breasts, his thumb teasing your nipples. You should distract yourself, should be possible for two or three minutes.

Did you do your laundry? Was there enough milk in the fridge for your coffee in the morning? Did you already buy new shampoo and body lotion? Another moan of pleasure escaped your throat when you felt his cock moving deep inside of you, hitting a spot you didn't know existed. How dare he distract you from your distraction? And why did his soft skin feel so damn good on yours? And when did you wrap your legs around his waist?

You had to end it immediately, you couldn't stand this good feeling anymore. There was only one way to do it. You were an expert in it. An ability honed over the years. The reasons had been different ones but you knew how to do it. You faked it. You let your walls willingly clench around his sensitive cock. You knew he was close, it seemed it had been a while since he fucked with someone. So it took him just two more strokes and a faked moan of pleasure of yours and he came hard. If you know how to clench your cunt around the dick and if you moan just right, they go crazy. That's how it worked, that's what always led to success. You gave him a short moment before you pushed him off you, pulling the blindfold hurriedly off of your eyes, throwing it aside and standing up from the bed.

You grabbed your kimono from the back of the chair and covered your body with it by taking it on and tying its belt. Your job was done and he had to go now. No aftercare, no small talk, as agreed. Your cunt was still throbbing, unsatisfied lust running through your body. But this feeling was nothing new to you. The feeling of having fooled him was worse than the feeling of being unsatisfied. You grabbed your cigarette pack and lighter from the vanity table and lit up a cigarette. You had given up smoking several years ago but now you were having the urgent need to take a drag and inhale the unhealthy stuff to calm the bad feeling down with it.

Loki didn't know how much he was in need of carnal satisfaction. Of course, he jerked off regularly under the shower or on his bed but it wasn't as satisfying as burying himself into the warmth of a wonderful woman, a woman like you. Your skin was so soft and your scent was so beguiling. A mixture of roses in the summer rain and honey. He wasn't allowed to kiss your lips or your pretty face so he just let his lips travel down over your gorgeous, tempting body and when he reached your most intimate part and you opened your thighs for him further, he gave your clit just a few gentle licks. You had already been so wet without him giving you a proper, deserved preparation before claiming you completely. You tasted so good and deliciously sweet, he'd love to have more of it, more of you but you didn't want extensive foreplay which he accepted.

He wasn't sure but you seemed to enjoy your intimate encounter, he could tell because of how your body reacted to him but something felt odd. It seems you forbid yourself sexual pleasure. He wasn't used to it because normally when he pleasured a woman they wanted him to give them endless pleasure and the sweetest fulfilment. But maybe he shouldn't forget that you were doing a ‘job’ here. You surely thought this here was just about him, getting satisfied in every way but it wasn't how he saw it. He wanted you to feel good too. At least he hoped you felt safe with him and that you wouldn't hate him afterwards.

When you unconsciously wrapped your beautiful legs around his waist and pulled him closer to you, allowing him to get deeper, it was nearly his undoing. He had dreamt of it since he had seen you for the first time and to feel you doing it sent him nearly over the edge. It didn't take him long and he came hard when he felt you suddenly clenching around him but he could've sworn your climax wasn't that close. Shortly after he came you pushed him away and he felt kind of irritated but he didn't mind, he told you he doesn't do aftercare. Just the act, nothing more. But to his own surprise, it would've felt nice to stay a bit longer in that intimate position.

“Are you okay?" He asked you thoughtfully, still lying on the bed and catching his breath.

“Yeah, of course,” you tried to sound lighthearted but Loki doubted it.

He got out of bed, picked up his underwear from the floor and headed for the bathroom to clean himself. You were still smoking your cigarette, fidgeting nervously with it.

“My performance wasn't sublime and a little bit disappointing for you, wasn't it?” He said when he returned from the bathroom. He and he asked you that question as if you had booked him for sex. It wasn't his obligation to satisfy you. It was your job and your obligation to satisfy him.

“What?” You looked astonished.

“Your orgasm.”

“What do you mean?” You questioned him, irritated.

“Your orgasm. ..you faked it,” he said.

“I didn't," you said unbelievingly and appalled. He had noticed it? How? “You came good and hard, right?” You answered a bit annoyed. You had to keep your walls up. You had to keep your feelings out.

“That's not the point, Sugar.”

“That is exactly the point, handsome. I did my job and apparently I did it well.”

You glanced at him. Could he please get completely dressed again? This guy just dressed in an unbuttoned shirt with rolled-up sleeves and black briefs wasn't just distracting you, it also made you want to snuggle up to him.

“Did you enjoy it at least a little bit? I don't want you to feel used,” he asked concernedly.

You gave him no answer. You enjoyed it much more than you were ready to admit.

Frowning and smirking unbelievingly, Loki walked past you to sit down on the end of the bed, resting his forearms on his thighs and staring at your back. He hated cuddling and cuddling after sex even more but he wanted to hug you and keep you in his arms. Why didn't you tell him if you had enjoyed it or not?

“Who did this to you? Who hurt you so much?”

“Why would you want to know that?”

“Maybe because I care about you.”

“Mind your own business, Luke. We just had sex. This here has nothing to do with love or care or anything like that. I just expanded my service for you. I neither need love nor am I looking for it. I don't need a savior. I need money and I work for it, that's all,” you dragged on your cigarette, turned around and looked provocatively at him, blowing the smoke out. He looked devastatingly sexy with his rumpled, open shirt and tousled black curls. You just wanted to hug and kiss him. But both would violate your rules.

“Everyone has their secrets, Luke. You have yours and I have mine and there's nothing to complain about. We owe each other nothing. This is a business relationship and we both got what we wanted. You pay for me and I give you my time and my body. I'm sure you're done with me now. Thank you for booking me,” you said bitterly.

“What makes you think I don't want to see you again? Do you think so badly of me? Did I treat you that disrespectfully?” He asked you silently, your words stinging in his chest.

“No, no you didn't. It's not you, it's me. I'm an escort lady who is also a call girl now. I cannot fall any deeper. So why should you care about me? Maybe you'd like to try someone else now because I couldn't fulfil your expectations tonight. Some other lovely escort ladies are working for REA…” You suppressed the upcoming tears and swallowed hard on the lump in your throat.

There was so much pain and sadness in your voice, that it made Loki's heart clench painfully in his chest.

“That's not how I see it, Sugar. And I can assure you I don't want to meet any other escort lady… just you. You shouldn't speak so badly about yourself because… it's not the truth. Whatever happened to you and caused this dreadful situation… You're a fallen angel, someone has broken your wings and if I ever find this cruel prick who hurt you so much, I'll kill him.” Loki stated, his voice full of compassion.

“Don't make any promises you'll never keep, Luke. ” You struggled to make your voice work. “It's not midnight yet but I want you to go now...please,” you asked of him.

“Can I really leave you alone? I could…,”

“I'm good,” you interrupted him quickly, “don't worry. Walker will drive me home so no need for you to worry about me.”

“What exactly is Walker for you? Is he your bodyguard? He protects you, right?” Loki questioned.

He began to dress himself while questioning. It was like a reverse strip. How could someone be so sexy? How was it even possible to get dressed in a sexy manner?

“He is my chauffeur, my chaperone, my life assurance in case someone becomes a menace,” you told him calmly.

“I'm genuinely glad to hear that.”

“Yes, I feel much better knowing he's there for me.” You answered genuinely.

“I feel much better with that, too,” Loki said and put his jacket on. He headed to the suite door and turned around to look at you.

“Can I ask you one last question?” You shrugged and nodded.

“Do you believe in love, Sugar?” You hesitated with the answer.

“Do you, Luke?”

“I already told you, no, I don't.”

“And I don't either. I don't believe in love anymore. Someone has destroyed it for me. Love is overrated…and sex too.” You tried to smile and look self-confident.

“Is that so Sugar?” He asked you sadly.

You smiled softly at him and shrugged a shoulder, tears brimming in your eyes. You glanced at him, searching for the right words but unfortunately, you couldn't find them.

Loki made an effort to open the door and you swallowed thickly before you found your voice again.

“Luke…You have a completely wrong image of yourself. You might be dominant but…You are a tender lover. Thank you for being so…careful. And I'm sure there's someone out there to love you. But it's not me.” He could barely hear you because you ou spoke so quietly.

Loki smiled unbelievingly at you and opened the door.

“Good night, Sugar. Take care.” He said calmly.

“Good night, Luke,” you answered silently, tears brimming painfully in your eyes and with a soft thud he closed the door and was gone.

You allowed two tears to escape your eyes, wiped them angrily away, and opened your tight hair bun. You got a headache from it. You would take a quick shower, it wouldn't take you longer than fifteen minutes to get ready and then, Walker would drive you home. You weren't sure if you would find sleep tonight. There were too many thoughts in your mind. You felt just exhausted now. You took off your kimono and the bra, dropped them on the floor, and headed for the bathroom. After the hurried shower, you got dressed into the fresh clothes that were stored in your bag and put every piece of your worn clothes, the high heels, and your other belongings into the bag. There was also a package of biscuits in it but you would look for it on your way down to the limousine. It was time to go now and you left the hotel suite.

While walking through the streets of Manhattan in the middle of the night, Loki couldn't stop thinking about you. He always refused to gain too much feelings for a girl but with you, it was something completely different. He wasn't overly proud of what he did tonight. He lusted for you, wanted you but now he felt bad. Not for himself, but for you. Was it right to take your offer? He had used you, he took advantage of your situation you were in. That's how it felt for him now. He had your consent and he knew you wanted it too. He was a skilled lover, always striving to satisfy his sexual partner but he wasn't even able to do that for you. He wished you would've enjoyed it but maybe by taking your offer, he had just added more to your desperation and the difficult situation you were stuck in.

You had told him you would only escort him and then, you reversed your decision. Why? Because you lusted for him or liked him as a person? Surely not. He needed to find out why you needed more money because to sleep with a client meant to get more money than just escorting them. After sleeping with you he felt more worried about you. Maybe this was intrusive but he wanted to help you. His inner turmoil got the better of him and something about you touched his heart. On his way to hail a taxi on his way home, he recognised that he was missing his scarf.

‘Damn,’ he scolded himself. Turning on his heels, he walked hurriedly back to the hotel. When Loki left the lift, he hurried down the hallway with long steps back to the suite. Maybe you were still there and you could open him so he could get his scarf back. A woman walked past him when he was on his way back to the suite, casually dressed in jeans, an oversized black blazer and trainers, busily looking for something in a bag, her head deeply stuck in it, her hair covering her face. She paid no attention to him when he greeted her and he kept walking. He knocked at the door and waited for a minute or two but no one answered or opened the door. You must've been gone already. If you say yes to a further date with him he could ask you if you took his scarf with you and you surely would give it back to him. Or he would ask tomorrow at the reception desk if the housekeeping staff found his scarf.

When you left the entrance hall of the hotel, Walker was already awaiting you. He had just driven the limousine to the entrance of the hotel and opened the car's door for you. You tossed your bag on the backseat and got in the car. Walker rounded the limousine, got into the car himself, started the engine and you fastened your seat belt. You hadn't found the biscuits in the depths of your bag and now you didn't feel like looking for it anymore. You didn't even feel like listening to music anymore so you took your earplugs out and put them into the pocket of your blazer. You leaned your forehead against the glass of the side window and stared at the glittering lights of Manhattan by night. Walker observed you through the rear-view mirror.

“Are you all right, y/n?” he asked concernedly.

You turned your head towards his gaze in the mirror and nodded.

“Yes, I'm ok, Walker, thank you,” and you leaned your head against the glass again.

“Mr.Larsson…, was he good to you?”

“Yeah, … yeah he was,” you answered silently, and you kept staring at the passing city lights.

“Good. He seems to me to be a man with decency and manners.”

“He's wonderful, Walker. He was the best,” and you fought against the tears in your eyes. You couldn't allow yourself to like him too much. ‘Do not fall in love with a client. Do not gain feelings for someone who would never be yours.’ You didn't even know if you would ever see Luke again.

Maybe it was too late already, maybe you had already gained feelings for him. The worst case might have already happened. You might not be able to draw a line between sex and love. Well, you guessed that's what you'd call an occupational hazard.

You should stay away from him but you wished to see him again. Even though you might not be able to keep pretending everything between you two is just professional business.

🌹🥂🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂❤️🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂🌃

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arlana-likes-to-write · 11 months

Text

Lightning Bug - Chapter 18

Master list

Warning: this chapter mentions self-harm and a depressive episode for our reader. Lots of angst.

Word Count: 4.3k

“Any changes?” Natasha asked her girlfriend as she walked into the kitchen, an empty bowl in her hands.

“She ate better than yesterday,” she put the plate in the sink. “But she still hasn’t said a word.” It seemed to be the trend. The young girl stayed locked in her room since the car incident. That was 3 days ago. They feared that they were gonna have to get Helen involved because of her lack of eating but she began to eat what Wanda brought her.

“I’m getting worried,” Kate said, playing with the spider-shaped necklace around her neck. It was a gift from Yelena when the couple first started dating. Yelena wore an arrow, similar to the one that Clint gifted Natasha. But the Black Widow was getting worried too. She even called Laura asking for advice. The mother of three gave the best advice she could, being a little out of her element since her three didn’t have powers.

“She needs to work through this,” Natasha said. “And when she’s ready we’ll be here to catch her.” The whole tower seemed to be affected by it. But America seemed to have taken it the hardest, spending more time at the Sanctum and traveling the multiverse. The elevator opened and Maria walked out, holding a folder in her hand. “No,” Natasha found herself saying before Maria opened her mouth. The agent smiled.

“I’m sorry but Fury asked for you and Wanda,” Natasha grabbed the folder out of her hand. It was nothing dangerous, just smooth talking with some politicians. She slammed the folder close, a little harder than she attended.

“Have him send someone else?” Wanda took the folder from her. There was no way in hell she was leaving the tower.

“Don’t you think I tried, Nat,” Maria opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. “We are stretched thin,” she popped open the beer and took a long sip. It was only 11:30 but Natasha saw the bags forming underneath her eyes. “I know things are tense but I don’t have a choice.

“Sestra,” Natasha looked at Yelena. “We’ll make sure she’s okay.” There were times like this Natasha hated her job and envied Clint. She wished she had a house in the middle of nowhere with no missions or need to train. Her family was happy and safe on a few acres of land. But there was so much red in her ledger for her to stop now.

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll do it but Fury owes me,” Maria smirked, chuckling.

“That list keeps getting longer and longer.

The world around you seems muted, muffled as if you were submerged underwater. Nothing was clear, everything sounded far off as you stared ahead. You had no energy to move from your bed. Every bone in your body ached and your head felt fuzzy. The only interaction you had was with Wanda bringing you food. The interaction was a loose way you’d describe it. Wanda did most of the talking, you weren’t even sure what she was saying. But you ate the food even though it tasted bitter so they wouldn’t worry. And you knew they were. You couldn’t pull yourself out of this pit you were in. Every Time you tried to crawl your way out you were pulled back in. It was an exhausting, endless cycle as your mind degraded you. Monster. Freak. Killer. Worthless. You believed every word.

When your door opened you were sitting up, coloring on a piece of paper. It was the only thing that you could bring yourself to do. The music was too loud. Reading seemed too hard. And practicing Russian left your brain fried. You were expecting to see Wanda unsure of when the last time you saw the witch. But Natasha walked in with her girlfriend. “Hey dorogoy,” she said, sitting down on your bed. Your legs were crossed so she sat closer to you than expected. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Horrible. Bad. She smiled. Your throat was a little sore from disuse. Wanda chose to stand behind the Black Widow. You felt uneasy. Did they finally have enough of you? Were they here to kick you out?

“That’s good!” Wanda said. You nodded. “Nat and I have to leave for a few days.”

“Fury is sending us on a quick assignment,” you frowned. They were leaving because of you. They didn’t want to deal with you.

“Oh,” you said, looking back down. “How long will you be gone?”

“2 days max,” Natasha said. You nodded. “Kate and Yelena will be here if you need anything,” you nodded again. “And we’ll be a phone call away, okay?” She added.

“Okay,” you whispered, glancing up at them. “I’m sorry,” you looked back down. “I’m not sure where my head is.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda assured you. “We’ll be here when it gets all sorted out.” They were about to leave but you called out to them.

“Be safe,” you said. “Come back in one piece.” Natasha smiled.

“Always,” the Black Widow closed your door behind them. You thought you’d be grateful for the silence, to be alone again. But it unsettled you, it scared you. Oh, how you wished you could be back in time and stop all this from happening.

A shower was the first thing on your to-do list when your head felt less fuzzy. You didn’t realize how much it would help as the warm water washed over you. It made you feel human. You were walking out of your closet, dressed in fresh clothes, and drying your hair when it hit. It came out of nowhere. The feeling started in your legs, which was new. Your legs began to tingle and your feet cemented to the ground. The feeling traveled up to your stomach and chest where you felt warm. That fuzzy feeling returned in your head. Your muscles tensed up as the wave of electricity moved through your body. Every time you thought it was done it kept going and going. Finally, it stopped. Black spots appeared in front of your eyes and the metallic taste of your blood filled your mouth. You fell to the ground, unable to find the strength to keep yourself standing. A sheering pain ran through your head and the world went black.

Steve was watching Bucky read. It was moments like this that he treasured. No mission. No meeting or training. No paperwork. Just quietness and the opportunity to admire the man he loved. Steve glanced at Bucky one more time before returning to his sketchbook. “Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, Miss. Y/n fell and hit her hand. I’ve already alerted Dr. Cho.” Steve never jumped to his feet so fast and ran to Natasha’s floor. The elevator would take too long. He took three stairs and heard Bucky behind him. By the time Steve got to her door, his chest was heaving and he opened her bedroom door. He saw her, laying face down on her floor. A small pool of blood was forming near her head. “FRIDAY alert Yelena and tell her to get back to the tower.” Steve bent down to pick her up but Bucky placed a head on his shoulder.

“She doesn’t like skin-to-skin contact,” he said. Steve pulled off a blanket from her bed and carefully picked her up, being mindful of not touching her skin.

“Miss. Belova is on her way back,” the AI said. “Should I contact Miss. Romanoff and Miss. Maximoff?”

“Negative, FRIDAY,” Bucky said, following Steve to the elevator. He looked at his boyfriend as the doors opened. “It’s probably better if one of us tells them and not an AI.” He was right. Steve looked at the unconscious girl in his arms and prayed to whoever God was listening that she would be okay.

Yelena felt her heart in her throat as she rode the elevator to med bay. They left the tower for just a few hours to try to get America out of the fuck she was in. She didn’t regret leaving because it was nice to see her friend smile again but Yelena couldn’t help but feel guilty. The doors opened and she saw Steve, Bucky, and Sam waiting in the chairs outside a room. “What happened?” Yelena asked, walking over to them with her girlfriend close behind. Steve looked up.

“We don’t know,” he said. “Helen is still doing her assessment. All FRIDAY said was she hit her head.”

“It could be because she hasn't been eating,” Kate said. “She just may need some food and a good night's sleep.” Yelena heard the elevator door’s open and she saw Pepper and Tony walk over. A party was happening down here.

“What happened?” The CEO asked.

“We were just discussing that,” Yelena said, filling in the couple on what they missed.

“FRIDAY, can you tell us what happened?” Tony asked the AI. It took a moment for FRIDAY to respond which Yelena thought was odd.

“It appears that Miss. Y/n has undiagnosed epilepsy,” the AI said. “This is not the first incident to occur but she asked me to not notify you when an episode happened.”

“Epilepsy?” Steve questioned, looking at Kate and Yelena for clarification. But the Black Widow was just as lost as everyone else. Helen came out of the room, gently closing the door behind her.

“Is she alright?” Pepper was the first to ask. “I know epilepsy that goes untreated can cause brain damage. We -”

“Time out,” Helena said, cutting the CEO off. “Epilepsy? Where are you getting that from?”

“FRIDAY informed us she had epilepsy,” Bucky said. “And it wasn’t the first time she had an episode.”

“She doesn't have epilepsy and she didn’t have a seizure although her symptoms mirror it.” The doctor explained.

“Then what happened?” Yelena questioned. Helen sighed.

“Steve and Bucky told me of her powers. Have any of you seen her use them?” A chorus of no and headshakes was the answer the doctor received. Before the incident with Pepper’s car, Yelena believed the teen would go a lot longer without telling everyone what she could do. “She is pulling energy from around her; the beating of our hearts or the existing electricity in the room. Energy can’t be created or destroyed but it can be converted. So she uses that energy and creates electricity,” she explained. “But that energy can’t stay in her body. It needs an outlet. Similar to when you blow into a balloon. Even when the balloon is inflated you can still blow air into it. Until it pops,” Yelena connected the dots in her head. “Electricity is the same way when it needs an outlet it will make one no matter who gets hurt in the process.”

“She’s electrifying herself.” Yelena guessed. Helen nodded.

“From the scans we took, she’s been doing it for some time and it’s causing damage to her hippocampus,” she told the group. Yelena knew that part of the brain was related to learning and memory. “Right now her vitals are stable but she’s still unconscious. You can visit her but only 2 at a time.” The group thanked the doctor and she returned to her other duties.

“We need to call Nat and Wanda,” Tony said. He looked at the two super soldiers. “Are you two okay with taking their spot?” They nodded.

“Of course,” Steve said. “Will you guys keep us updated?”

“We will,” Pepper said. “Kate and Yelena, why don’t you two stay with her until Nat and Wanda get here?”

“I’ll call them to tell them what’s going on,” Sam added. A plan was in motion and finally, it was just Kate and Yelena standing in the hallway. Instead of going into her room, Yelena sat down in the chair Steve was sitting in. She began to play with the rings on her fingers. Each one had a different story, a different reason why she wore them on her fingers. She was so lost in thought she didn’t notice Kate kneeling in front of her, placing her hands over hers.

“My love,” Kate whispered. Yelena looked up staring into the blue eyes of her girlfriend. “She’s going to be okay.”

“Natasha is going to kill me,” Yelena threw her head back with a sigh. “I told her we would look after her.”

“These things happen, Lena,” Kate sat down next to her. “And Natasha will understand that.” Yelena nodded, allowing the silence to settle between the two. When she looked at her girlfriend, the archer was in deep thought.

“What is it?” Yelena asked.

“Do you want to draw straws on who tells America?” The Russian smiled.

“I’ll leave that one to you, little hawk,” Kate rolled her eyes, kissing Yelena on the cheek.

“Fine, anything for you.”

“Remind me to kill Fury,” Natasha said as they rode the elevator. She was holding onto Wanda’s hand as a lifeline. When she saw Sam’s name appear on the caller ID, she knew something was wrong. They booked it back to the tower before they were off the phone with him. Wanda chuckled.

“You're not gonna kill him. You're just upset.”

“And you're not?” The Black Widow questioned.

“I am,” Wanda said. “One of us has to be level-headed and not think about murdering the Director of SWORD.” Wanda hit her hip against Natasha. The small action pulled a light laugh out of the Russian.

“You're right. Thank you, little witch,” the laugh was much needed as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Immediately, Natasha saw her sister, sitting alone in the hallway. Not even the sound of the elevator pulled her out of her thoughts. She gave Wanda’s hand a tight squeeze before letting go and walking over to her sister. “Sestra.”

“Natasha,” Yelena stood up. “I’m sorry. I told you she would be okay and I couldn’t keep my promise.”

“Hey, hey,” Natasha put her hands on Yelena’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she maneuvered Yelena back into the chair and sat down next to her. “This is not your fault okay?” Yelena nodded.

“You are here now and that is what matters,” Wanda added. “Have you been in her room?” The blonde shook her head.

“Cho only wants 2 people in at a time. She wants to speak with you two. I’ll go get her,” Natasha let her sister stand up and walk to find the doctor. She wasn’t ready for this. She felt like her feet were glued to the floor. But she dragged herself out of the chair and opened the door. The air left her lungs as she stared at the still form in the hospital bed. There was a nasal cannula around her face and Ekgs on her forehead. A small gauze was on the side of her head. It took another squeeze from Wanda to get her moving and sit in the empty chair. Wanda sat across from her.

“She looks so peaceful,” the witch spoke, breaking the silence. Natasha agreed but she desperately wanted to see the striking color of her eyes to tell her everything was going to be okay. A gentle knock on the door drew her attention from the teen and Helen walked in.

“Hi,” she said with a smile. “I’m guessing you’ve been filled in.” She stood at the foot of the bed, hands resting on the metal frame. Natasha shook her head.

“We were just informed that she was hurt and came right away.” Helen nodded, her smile faltering slightly. Natasha listened as the doctor explained what happened. She had to admit that she was only catching every other word but she understood what occurred. Self-harm. An act she and those closest to her have gone through.

“Can the damage be repaired?” Wanda asked.

“I recommend introducing light exercises to her daily routine,” her eyes went to the girl. “But the most important thing is we need to stop her from continuing the behavior,” she sighed. “It’s impressive that she’s still doing okay.”

“She’s strong,” Natasha whispered.

“That she is,” Helen said. “Please come get me if you need anything or have any questions.” She left the couple.

“You're right, you know,” the Black Widow looked at her girlfriend. “She’s strong so she’ll be okay.”

“Let’s hope it’s enough.”

Kate found America in the kitchen making pasta. “Hey,” she said to the archer. “I figured everyone would have their hands full so I’m making dinner,” she scratched the back of her head. “I can’t promise it will be good.” Kate sat on the bar stool.

“I’m sure it will be great,” America drained the pasta and moved the pasta back into the pot to add the sauce.

“How is she ?” America finally asked, stirring the pasta and sauce together.

“She’s stable. Her vitals are good but she hasn’t woken up yet,” America nodded, leaning on the counter. “She doesn’t have epilepsy like we initially thought.” America looked up suddenly.

“What caused it?” So Kate explained it in the same way Helen told them. Somehow it was more heartbreaking as she watched her friend's face fall more and more. “Electrifying herself? I- I don’t understand. I thought she was doing better. Wasn’t she?” Her voice cracked at the end.

“She was,” Kate fully believed she was. Before the car incident, the girl now in med bay was completely different from the girl who first came to the tower. “Even though we are healing, people can regress. It’s not linear,” Kate has seen it first hand with Yelena. America nodded. “Can I ask you two things?”

“Sure, doesn’t mean I’ll answer them,” America smirked. The archer rolled her eyes.

“Why are you avoiding her?” The teen sighed, looking in the direction of Y/n’s room.

“The last time I saw her I made her lose control because I wanted to fix everything,” she sighed. “But God Kate you should have seen the fear in her eyes. I don’t want to put her through that again. I can’t.” Kate understood that as she’s been in the same position as America. It was a simple mistake but Kate didn’t realize her girlfriend was stuck in a memory. She came up behind her for a hug and Yelena grabbed her wrist, flipping her over, and spraining her wrist. But the pain didn’t bother Kate; it was the fear in Yelena’s eyes that hurt more. It was in the beginning of their relationship so they were still learning about each other. Natasha had to pull Yelena out of her spiraling thoughts and got her to talk to the archer.

“Do you like her?” Kate asked. “More than just a friend.” She added on quickly. A small smile grew on America’s face.

“Am I that obvious?” Kate smiled, nodding her head. “Yeah, I do. There is something about her that I can’t describe. My stomach flips like I’m on a rollercoaster.”

“A little advice,” Kate said once America was done talking. “Don’t turn your back on her no matter how hard it gets,” she was listening with her full attention, feeding on every word the archer said. “Loving her will be difficult but so worth it.”

“Speaking from experience?” America questioned. Kate heard the quiet footsteps of her girlfriend walking up behind her.

“Yeah,” Yelena’s arm snaked around her waist and burrowed her head in the crock of her neck. “I am.”

Pepper was lost in thought as she had music softly playing in the background. It was rare that the CEO let herself sit and not busy herself with Stark Industries. She couldn’t bring herself to tackle her growing to-do list. There was guilt making its home in her bones. “You're thinking very hard for someone who should be relaxing,” Tony said, handing her a mug and sitting down next to her. Pepper rested her back against his front. Immediately, he began to massage the tension out of her shoulders. “What’s got you thinking so hard?”

“Just thinking about the past few days,” she said after a moment. Tony hummed.

“You care about her, don’t you?” He asked. She took a sip, savoring the taste of spiked apple cider before resting it on the table.

“Yes I do,” she said, turning to face her husband. “And I know you do too.” Tony turned her back to face forward and continued massaging. She had a big knot on her right shoulder that Tony focused on.

“It’s her eyes,” Tony said. “Never have I seen such child-like wonder and sadness at the same time,” Pepper nodded. “I spoke with Banner and I think we can help her.” When she turned to face him, he didn’t stop her. “Cho said this happened because she’s not using her powers. I can guess she doesn't use them because she’s scared.” Pepper came to that conclusion as well. “So what if we create something where she can use her powers and do some good? It will kill2 birds with one stone, ya know? A safe and controlled way to use her powers and slowly change how she views them.” Pepper stared at him and then finally kissed him.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” she said, picking up her drink. The CEO half expected Tony to run off to his lap to work on the new project but he stayed, lost in his thoughts and worlds away. “Now who is thinking too hard?” She teased, squeezing his leg.

“Do you remember that dream I told you about before Strange came to us?” Of course, she did. She thought about it almost every single day. “Is it something you would want to do? You would be a great mom.”

“Tony,” she said, slowly. She moved away from him slightly to look at him.

“Tell me to stop,” he said. “Tell me to walk away from this,” he gestured to the tower. “And I will. I have that cabin upstate and we can raise our daughter.”

“You can’t walk away,” she said. It was a pipe dream. She’s seen the incredibly stupid things he’s done as Iron Man in the name of saving others.

“Why can’t I?” He questioned. Being with Tony, Pepper learned the man was 5 minutes away from a sarcastic comment. But as she stared into his eyes, it was the most serious Pepper had seen him. “Rogers can handle the team and if he doesn’t want it, Wilson isn’t a bad option. I’m serious, Pepper,” he laced his hand with hers. “Tell me to walk away and I will.” But she couldn’t tell him to walk away and have a normal life to raise their daughter. She couldn’t make that decision for him when he wasn’t just her husband and best friend. Iron Man was a beacon of hope for so many. It would be selfish of her to take him away.

“I love you,” she said. “But I don’t think the world is ready to say goodbye to Iron Man.”

“Will it ever be?” He questioned. Pepper placed a hand on his cheek and he turned to kiss it. She drew circles against his skin.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “But we’ll know when it is.”

“Knock, knock,” Natasha looked up as the door opened and saw America, holding two bowls. “I come bearing food,” she whispered, noticing Wanda asleep in the chair. “I know Helen has a two-guest policy so I won’t be long.” Natasha took the bowls from the girl, whose eyes kept flickering to Y/n.

“I can leave,” Natasha said, ready to give her spot up but America shook her head.

“It’s okay. Can you just let me know when she wakes up?”

“You’ll be the first one on my list,” Natasha smiled. “Thank you for the food.”

“Of course. Try to get some sleep too. Goodnight,” she waved, carefully closing the door behind her. It wasn’t long before the smell of food caused Wanda to wake up.

“That smells good.” Natasha smiled, handing her the bowl.

“America made it,” Natasha blew on the pasta before taking a bite. It was good, a little over-seasoned but she was grateful for any food. Wanda giggled. “What’s so funny?” She asked her girlfriend.

“Nothing,” she waved her hand with the fork in it. “Have you ever seen America cook?” She was right. The most the teen had cooked was toast. “It’s just amazing how one stranger can change us.”

“Is it a good change or a bad change?” Wanda smiled.

“It’s good,” the witch said. Natasha looked at the teen, finding comfort in the steady rise and fall of her chest. She wondered if she was dreaming or did her mind offer her one dreamless sleep. Natasha smiled.

“Do you ever wonder what hugging her would feel like?” Wanda nodded.

“All the time,” she whispered. “I wonder when the last time she’s been hugged.”

“Or if she’s been hugged at all,” Natasha mumbled, angrily twirling her pasta. It made her blood boil when she thought how unfair life has treated her. “We’ll ask her when she wakes up,” she looked at Wanda. “I think it will help her feel more like apart of this family.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a great idea,” Natasha watched as Wanda reached into a bag on the floor and pulled out a book, she handed it to Natasha. It was the Outsiders. “She was reading it to you when you were hurt,” The Black Widow took the book and placed her bowl on her lap. “America says it’s her favorite.”

“Is that so?” She opened the book to the first page. It was on the movies they made her watch in The Red Room, an American classic that was filled with their edited agenda. Kate and Peter made it her mission to show her and Yelena movies and TV shows that weren’t tainted by the Red Room. Natasha began to read, “When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I only had two things on my mind; Paul Newman and a ride home…”

Taglist: @aestruvx, @toouncreativeforausername, @modedddd, @julilamoment, @mythixmagic, @yourmamacom, @vicmc624, @cherlenovix, @liliesandrosies, @whitewidowsbite, @clintsbigtoe, @blackbirdv98

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small-sinclair · 1 year

Text

@vampyrgoff, I saw you were looking for some Vincent Sinclair headcanons awhile back (I'm a simp for this man, too), so here's some to quince that thrust. Hope you like vampires...

Vampire requests are open!

Vampire!Vincent Sinclair x Reader

Tw: blood, biting, draining, killing mentioned, obsessed Vincent of you

To me, this makes since because he see him more outside at night than in the day (besides scaring the shit out of Carly). So, I like the idea of Vincent being a vampire in a different world.

ANYWAYS

He wears long sleeves when he goes outside to make sure his arms don't get burned, and he can retract his hands into his sleeves if the heat gets too much.

Because he can't go into the sun, he goes out at night for walks and for fresh air when he feels like it.

Because he can go out at night while his brothers can walk in the daylight, Vincent knows all the stars in the sky and can name every single shape.

Also, he and Lester go night fishing/hunting. Vincent is really good at night fishing! He prefers to do that when he and Lester hang out.

He's the strongest out of his brothers

Vincent's a fan of drink from his victims when they are parallelized because it makes it easy. They don't fight. No screaming or begging-- it's perfect.

If he has to drink without the parallelized shot, he's strong enough to make hold the person down to drink until the person's dead.

If the person is almost dead and Bo gives them as a leftover, he makes sure to hold the person tight and lovingly as if he's giving them a hug when he finishes them off. He can feel their pain, their death; he knows how Bo is: rough and like an animal when he feeds.

If he doesn't want to drink at the moment, he'll just drain them until they are a husk of a person.

Two of his vampire powers, because every vampire has to have vampire powers, is the ability to see his victim's memories after taking their blood and reading thoughts just by looking at a person. He looks back on the victim's memories whenever he wants to escape from reality and see what's outside of Ambrose. He always wanted to travel the state...

Then he met you.

You were exploring the House of Wax while Bo was replacing your spark plugs. You were looking at all of Vincent's creations with awe and bright eyes, but you looked the paintings the most.

He watched you as he stood still in the room, pretending to be a statue, and watched you take a chair from the "Dinning Room" and placed it in front of the painting. His eyes lingered over you as you took out a notebook and started writing something. If he came any closer, he knew you would feel him there, so he'll stay put. It's been a while since someone has looked over his work, but he hasn't seen a writer before.

Then you closed your notebook and looked at his painting, a small smile forming over your lips. You stayed still as you looked over his work. The colors just mixed perfectly that you didn't thing anything of it besides beauty and admiration. Part of you was happy that your spark plugs busted and it led you here. You love art and paintings.

"Vincent," you read aloud the name on the painting as if it was a prayer. Behind you, he gripped the inside of his sleeve. The way you said his name made his still-beating heart start again. He watched the flames get higher and higher, and it burned the inside of his blood.

He heard your heartbeat and how low it grew as you looked at the painting. He sees you pull out your phone and take a picture of his painting, so you can remember it forever. He wondered who you would show it to, who else would love his paintings just as you do. He wasn't to keep you close and never let you go, but why cage a free bird? He decided not to kill you, to let you walk away with memories of the House of Wax and his painting forever stilled in your phone. Even if you forget his name when you leave, he'll never forget you.

"Got yer car fixed," Bo's voice echoed in the house as his boots tapped over the floor. "A good fix, too! Hope ya don't mind mind but I changed your oil as well and put air in y'er tires."

Vincent wanted to tell his brother to stay back and not say anything to him. He wanted to let his brother no to acknowledge him. He wanted to soak in your beauty for a while longer, to inspire him more and more. To remember you as his muse.

But Bo didn't listen to his silent pleads as he looked right at his masked twin.

"Hello, Vincent."

You tilted your head as Bo looked right at a statue then you thought of something that both brothers didn't expect. "Oh! All the statues have names?" Then you looked right at Vincent, smiling, "Is that the statue of the person that did the painting?"

Bo fixed his hat, finally picking up on why Vincent hasn't moved. He chuckles lowly and says, "Why, yes, darlin'." He nodded at Vincent and said, "This is what he looks lik'."

You stood up from your chair and stood in front of him, arms length away. You offered a smile at him and it was the most beautiful thing Vincent has ever laid eyes on. He can't look at the sun or feel its warmth on his face, but your smile made him see every sunset and rise, every bright summer sunny say, every blue filled sky of light and stars.

I wonder if he looks as handsome as he does as a statue, you thought. Vincent's cheeks burned as he heard your thoughts of him racing more and more. I hope I can meet him.

"I love his paintings," you told Bo with a grin. You looked behind to see the painting again. "Do you think I could meet him? I would love to praise his art!" You faced them again and asked, "I love his paintings."

Bo smirks, giving you his best southern boy smile. "Wha' if I tol' you y'all already met him?"

You tilted your head as he patted the back of the statue, but froze as your eyes grew wide. You were expecting something hallow, but you heard Bo's hand patted the back of a person. of a human.

You looked between Bo and the statue, stepping back.

Vincent blinks.

You let out a yelp as you bumped into the chair and fell on your ass. You watched as the statue moved, but Vincent looked almost sad as he did. His lone blue eyes lingered over you as you watched it morph into a bright red, something so close to a blood and red roses.

"Mama tol' ya not t'play wit' y'er food, Vinny," Bo drawl, no emotion in his face. "Ya know betta than 'at."

You coward away until your back is pressed under the painting frame, and you closed your eyes and turned your head to look away. You felt Vincent kneeling in front of you as you started shaking, and he frowned slightly. You're not even going to fight him to stay alive? If you stay with him, he'll fight for you. He'll fight every day and night for you if you'd like.

He placed a hand on your knee and he watched you jump at his touch. He wanted to talk, to tell you you're safe. He wanted to let you know no harm will come. He wants you to live, y/n. Don't you see that? Don't you see he wants you to be happy in his world of art?

Bo stood behind his brother and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Well? Get after it, Vin."

Vincent shook his head as he looked up at his brother.

Bo tilted his head then a wicked grin formed. "Oh... you wanna keep 'em?"

Vincent nods as he placed his other hand on your arm. He watched you cry softly as he has you open your eyes to look at him. When your eyes met, he felt his face fall. You looked so scared of him, scared of everything around you, but you relaxed slightly when you watched his red eyes turn from red back to blue.

"Gotta name?" Bo asked you, red eyes looking over your form.

"Y/n," you answered meekly. "I'm y/n." Your eyes scanned over Vincent and you gave a gentle smile, trying to be brave. If the wanted you dead, they would've killed you by now. Vincent would've attacked you from behind and ripped your throat out, but he didn't. He watched you the whole time. "It's nice to meet you, Vincent."

You were still scared, terrified, but something inside you grew.

"Welcome t'Ambrose, y/n," Bo said, his voice sweet as honey. As he gave you a smile, you saw his fangs and how sharp they were.

But Vincent will keep you safe. Vincent will keep you safe forever. Nothing and no one will harm you.

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supernaturalscribe67 · 9 months

Text

My Best Friend

Words: 1,907

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Male!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Loss of a pet, descriptive death of an animal (no gore), hurt/comfort, I cried while writing and revising this so beware...

Summary: Luna has been by the reader's side ever since he first started hunting. However, as the years went by and as she got older, he had been seeing less and less of her because of his profession. Little did he know that when he said 'goodbye' to her before his latest hunt, it would be for the last time.

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As soon as the Impala pulled into the garage, (Y/N) was quick to jump out of the backseat and head for the front door of the bunker. A smile was plastered on his face and the excitement of returning home soared through him. Dean and Sam both stepped out of the car.

“Hey! Aren’t you going to grab your things?” Dean called out.

(Y/N) turned his head to look at him as he opened the bunker door. “I will in a minute!” He called back before he rushed inside.

(Y/N) barrelled down the stairs and began to make his way down the hallway toward his bedroom. “Luna!” He called out, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “Daddy’s home! I brought a present for you!”

It didn’t take long before (Y/N) got to his room, the door slightly ajar, just as he had left it before he went on the hunt. As he peered into the room, he was able to see the pile of black fur that rested atop the comforter of his bed. His smile widened.

Luna had been (Y/N)’s traveling companion ever since he started hunting. He had found her on the side of the road as a kitten and nursed her back to health. She had been with him for years, hopping from motel to motel. It made hunting a little less lonely. When (Y/N) met the Winchester Brothers and the offer to move in with them was fronted, it took a lot of convincing for Dean to allow the pet he was allergic to in the same space as he was. Eventually, he caved, and Luna and (Y/N) moved into the Men of Letters Bunker.

As Luna got older, she didn’t do as much moving around as she used to, but after each hunt, (Y/N) always brought back a little present for her, whether it be a new toy or a new pet treat he knew that she would love. Although he didn’t see her nearly as often as he wanted to, (Y/N) knew that, with Luna being at the bunker, she was safe, and it made him feel overjoyed whenever he got home.

(Y/N) chuckled ever so slightly as he walked into the room. He kicked off his boots and tossed them to the side. “Hey, sleepy girl,” he said as he knelt beside the bed. “You remember how you hit your mouse toy under the fridge and we couldn’t get it back? Well, I got something that might be able to make you feel better,” he smirked as he reached into his pocket and brought out a small green and yellow mouse. “It’s not your old toy, but it's something,” he shrugged.

When (Y/N) looked down at Luna again, he noticed that she hadn’t lifted her head. She hadn’t even opened her eyes to acknowledge his presence. (Y/N) gave a small smile as he reached over, placed his hand on top of her head, and, using the pad of his thumb, lightly pet the bridge of her nose.

“Luna,” he cooed in a soft tone.

Even with the gentle touches, Luna was still. Cautiously, (Y/N) reached his thumb down and caressed her grayed muzzle, brushing her whiskers ever so slightly. Still, she lay unresponsive. The smile faded from his lips as he felt a lump begin to form in his throat.

“Luna?” His voice was quiet.

(Y/N) pulled his hand back from her face and placed it carefully onto her stomach. He waited.

And waited.

And her stomach never moved.

Hesitantly, (Y/N) stood. He licked his lips as he crawled onto the bed, watching Luna as the bed dipped, yet all she did was lay there. When he got himself situated on the bed, legs crossed loosely, he reached over, placed one hand underneath her body, and picked her up, bringing her close to his chest. Her head lulled to the side as it lay limply against him.

(Y/N)’s eyes began to well up with tears as he brushed her fur out of her face. “Please,” he breathed as his bottom lip began to tremble. “Please wake up.”

Luna never woke up.

Soon, the dam broke. Tears began to stream down (Y/N)’s cheeks, leaving wet, red streaks as he pulled her even closer to him, nuzzling his cheek against hers, rocking himself back and forth ever so slightly on the bed. He sniffled as he let out small, pain-filled sobs. The emotions hit him like a truck. Luna was gone. His hunting companion was gone. His best friend was gone.

(Y/N) didn’t even hear the footsteps that came down the hallway and halted at his door, his cries and the breaking of his heart being the only thing that filled his ears. Dean peaked his head into the room, a concerned expression on his face. He placed his hand on the doorframe as he leaned against it.

“(Y/N)? You okay?” He asked, his voice laced with worry as he slowly stepped into the room.

As he got closer to the duo, he surveyed the scene in front of him. The way Luna’s body rested against (Y/N)’s chest, the wet spots on his cheeks, and the sound of (Y/N)’s cries. It didn’t take long for Dean to understand what was happening. He raised his brows as he looked down at Luna, his eyes immediately filling with sympathy as he walked over and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder.

Even though Dean was less than happy at first to have a cat in the bunker, he found that he had grown rather close to Luna. Although she caused his allergies to act up substantially, he had learned to love the way that she would nuzzle on his lap when he was watching a movie or the way that she would sneak into his room at night sometimes to cuddle up to him. Even though there were days when he would have rather not been around a cat constantly, he could never imagine a day going by without her being there. He saw the way she made (Y/N) smile. How close they were. He could tell that Luna meant a lot to his friend, that she was his family.

And now she’s gone.

Dean said nothing as he wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders, pulling him close. (Y/N) laid his head against Dean as he cried. His chest moved up and down rapidly with the increased rate of his breathing. His tears left a wet spot on Dean’s t-shirt, but Dean didn’t mind. Dean closed his eyes as he rubbed (Y/N)’s shoulder comfortingly.

After a couple of minutes, (Y/N)’s sobs began to diminish as he looked at Luna. “I should have been here for her,” he whispered, his voice shaky and broken. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone on that hunt. I-” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I should have stayed with her…” (Y/N) shook his head. “She must’ve thought I left her.”

“Of course, she didn’t, (Y/N),” Dean said in a soft, reassuring voice. “She loved you. She would get so excited whenever you would come back from hunts.”

“Then why didn’t she wait?”

Dean opened his mouth to speak but closed it. He shook his head slightly. “She probably didn’t want you to see her like this.”

(Y/N) sniffled and paused for a moment. “She was always so stubborn.”

Dean let out a dry chuckle. “She always did like to remind us that she was in charge.”

The tears had stopped at that point as Dean and (Y/N) sat there in silence. Dean’s hand ran up and down (Y/N)’s shoulder while (Y/N) ran his fingers through Luna’s soft fur. It felt like an eternity before (Y/N) finally spoke.

“Dean?” He asked in a whisper.

“Yes?”

“Can you…” he hesitated. He sat in another minute of silence before he continued. “Can you help me give her a proper funeral? A hunter’s funeral? I…I know she’s just a cat, but-”

“Hey,” Dean interjected as he pulled back to look down at (Y/N)’s face. “She wasn’t just a cat. She was a hunter, just like you and me. She may not have killed monsters like us, but she was with you every step of the way. I’d say she deserves a hunter’s funeral.”

(Y/N)’s bottom lip began to wobble once more as he heard Dean’s words. He sniffled and reached up to wipe the fresh tears away from his eyes.

“Thank you.”

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The crisp night air felt heavier than it should have been. The stars twinkled bright that night as the quiet wind caressed (Y/N)’s face. Dean finished placing the wood together in the smaller, makeshift pyre he had constructed. (Y/N) sat and watched as he held Luna’s body, wrapped in cloth, close to him. Once Dean was finished, he stood up and backed away, his boots crunching against the leaves that rested on the ground. He turned and looked at his friend for a moment, giving him a small nod.

(Y/N) nodded in return as he walked up to the pyre. He looked down at the wrapped-up bundle in his arms and placed a loving kiss atop Luna’s head before he set her down on the wood. He reached into his pocket and took out the small toy mouse that he had gotten her. He stared at it, his fingers brushing over the fabric for a second before placing it on her body. He then backed up and stood next to Dean.

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter. He held it out to (Y/N). (Y/N) glanced down at the lighter, seeing the silver finish gleam in the moonlight. Timidly, he reached over, grabbed it from Dean, and opened it. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, attempting to will away the tears that were starting to form in the corner of his eyes once again. It took a while for him to finally open his eyes and ignite the flame. He hesitated, watching as the flame danced on top of the hood, before tossing the lighter towards the pyre.

The wood burned agonizingly slow. (Y/N) watched as the fire began to spread, engulfing the remains of his best friend. He thought back to all the moments that they shared. The times when he would come back from a hunt, beaten and broken, but he would still have her to cuddle with to make him feel better. The times when he was trying to research and all she would do was plop down on his book or laptop and beg for his attention. The times when he would cry over the loss of his friends and she would bring him her favorite toy to try and comfort him. Even the times they got on each other’s nerves. Luna was still there for him, through the good, the bad, and the ugly.

And as he stood there, watching as the firey embers drifted off into the night sky, he couldn’t believe that it had taken him so long to realize;

Luna had saved (Y/N), just like he had saved her.

#male!reader #supernatural #spn x reader #supernatural imagine #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester x Male Reader #Male reader #hurt/comfort #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural x reader #supernatural x male reader

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deathbecomesthem · 29 days

Text

Cat and Mouse | Chapter 2 | 2.2K

+18 ONLY - Minors DNI - Adult Content

Eddie Munson x Fem!Preacher's Daughter!Reader

Chapter Summary: This chapter is an introduction to our Reader's home life. Take caution, religious trauma and sexual shame within.

A/N: This chapter is full of angst, fear, and humiliation. There isn't a lot of Eddie contained within outside of our thoughts of him. I promise, it gets better. Right now, we're taking a look at what home feels like. Expect another update of this fic over the weekend.

---

Blink.

Good morning, Hawkins. It’s 6:05 on this hot, hot, hot summer morning.

Blink.

High of 91 with a chance of thunderstorms after 5.

Blink.

Right now, let’s get your motor running with the help of my favorite blonde bombshell.

Blink.

The light seems to be blinking in rhythm with Madonna’s Papa Don’t Preach as you sit and consider turning your car around and heading back to Nancy’s. You had promised your parents you’d be home this weekend to watch your younger siblings while they were away on their retreat. You groan as you turn the wheel and head to the house where your dreams have rotted on the vine.

Things have been tense at home in recent months. Instead of feeling the comfort of home, you feel stifled when you walk through the front door of your parent’s house. The Reverend is a hard man with high expectations of his oldest daughter. Ever since you announced your intention to take a gap year rather than immediately joining the ranks of the faithful young adults of Bob Jones University, you’ve been teetering on the edge of danger with him. There is the constant threat of a raging storm behind his horn rimmed spectacles.

He knows the truth of the matter, that you are not planning to go to Bible college. That the promise of “next year” will inevitably turn into “never”. He’s just waiting for you to admit it. He’s waiting for you to say the truth. He’s waiting, with the patience of a saint, for you to tell him and your mother that you plan to shirk your responsibility to the family. To the church. To your Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. On that day, he’ll know what to do. He cannot make you do the right thing, but he can take everything you love in this world. You know this as well as he does, and it’s been a game of dodge and deflect. There is no comfort in the split level ranch at the edge of Roan, Indiana, only pitfalls and booby traps around every corner.

What the Reverend and his dutiful wife don’t know is that you’ve been making a plan. It’s on shaky ground, but it’s taking form. Karen Wheeler has been a lifeline to you, getting you a job at the library at the community college between Roan and Hawkins. She helped you open a bank account that neither of your parents know anything about. She’s offered you the basement room of the Wheeler house. The temptation to leave the Reverend’s home is only mitigated by the thought of leaving Rebecca and Noah, your brother and sister. If you leave, you know you’ll never be welcome back through those doors again.

The highway is dead this early in the morning. Your mind continues to drift, back to the previous day. Your mind travels back to the one thought that has been persisting since you laid eyes on his thin frame - Eddie. For the first time in your 20 years, a boy rejected your advances. Even the ones you don’t want fall apart around you. It’s a blessing and a curse. Boys are easy. Steve is a case in point.

Not Eddie, though. Yes, his eyes told you he wanted you, but he flatly rejected you. It won’t do. No. He made you feel silly, he made you feel unwanted. It makes you angry to think of it, and you crank the wheel harder than necessary to make the turn down Elm Street. Eddie Munson, the metalhead stoner, has the upper hand. How infuriating.

All thoughts about the curly haired grinning metalhead evaporated when your family home came into view. Without being aware of it, you’ve started biting and peeling your fingernails to the quick. Shit, your mother is going to notice and berate you. Before heading to the front door, you checked yourself in the rearview mirror, wiping away any remaining mascara that may have collected under your eyes. Hair pulled back tightly, you grip your backpack to your chest and enter the house.

You can smell coffee and pancakes. Mother always makes hot breakfast for your father and siblings on Saturday mornings. The stairs in front of you lead up to the bedrooms. You could go straight up and shut yourself away before they realize you’ve made it back home. Hand on the railing you hear his booming voice, “Pumpkin, is that you?” You return your right foot to the ground with a sigh and head towards the clanging of silverware on plates in the kitchen.

“Hi daddy.” Your lips met the scruff on his cheek before he could ask for a kiss. “Do you need help with anything, Mother?” You ask the woman at the sink. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, makeup may as well be tattooed onto her face with the precision in which it was applied. 7:30 in the morning and she was ready for war, just like every morning of your life.

“No, dear, your father has been waiting for you. Sit.” Sit is what you do. Your hands obey your training and find themselves folded in your lap, back straight, eyes on the man sitting at the head of the table. Bible sitting next to coffee mug. You wondered if he’s waiting for you before he starts the morning devotions. With furrowed brows, you realize your younger siblings were missing from the table.

“Pumpkin, thank you for coming home like I asked. Mother and I are leaving in an hour.” He takes a big swig of coffee and a last bite of pancake. His finger finds his Bible, and he pokes it fiercely as he does sometimes when he’s at the pulpit on a Sunday morning. “We need some prayer time, you and I. Especially after you’ve spent so much time at the Wheeler house.”

You can’t help but let the confusion show on your face. You know that your parents disapproved of the way the Wheelers lived. They give their children far too much freedom, and Karen lacks discipline. Plus, she “dresses like a whore”, your mother’s words. They don’t even go to church on Sunday mornings anymore. “Daddy, where are Rebecca and Thomas?”

“Oh, they’re spending the weekend with your Gram. Didn’t your mother tell you?” For fuck’s sake, of course. They just wanted you to come home, they dodn’t need you here. You know better than to start an argument with your mother while your father was in the room, so you bite your tongue and shake your head.

“No. I thought I was watching them this weekend while you went on your retreat.” Your father’s head is nodding up and down, acknowledging what you’re telling him.

“Well, Gram decided she wanted some time with the little ones, so you’re off the hook.” His big hand found your own and gave it a little squeeze. “I’m glad she forgot to tell you. I’ve missed my girl.”

A plate of pancakes is set on the table in front of you. You catch a sideways smirk on your mother’s face. She didn’t forget. She hates Karen. She’s jealous of the relationship between the two of you. Or maybe, she’s jealous of the way that Karen lives her life. The way you’ve begun to spread your wings a little, pushing at the walls of the confined life your mother has built for herself and her family.

“We’ll be gone until Monday evening. I left a list of chores that need to be done in our absence. I already informed your Bible study group that they could meet here this evening.” You almost start to protest. You had planned on canceling the meeting, hoping to use your babysitting as an excuse. “Don’t worry, we trust you to be the well-behaved young woman we raised.” She knew you were going to weasel out of it. The Bible study had been her idea. Just another way to keep you occupied and out of trouble.

“Thank you, Mother.” You smile warmly at her, not giving her the satisfaction of appearing disappointed. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with them meeting here?” The question is for your father, and you notice your parents exchange a look. This had been discussed already, you realize.

“Oh, I think you girls will be just fine. No overnight guests while we’re gone, though.” With that, he rises and kisses your temple. “Come to my study when you’re finished. We will spend some time with the lord before I leave.”

At your father’s exit, the room falls silent, apart from the sound of your mother washing the breakfast dishes at the sink.She is up to her elbows in soapy water despite the dishwasher that sits, unused, under the counter to her left. She doesn’t believe in using it, she trusts the efforts of her own two hands over the machine designed to ease the housewife’s burden. It’s her burden, after all, and God does love a hardworking woman.

The pancakes in your stomach feel as if they are expanding. It seems impossible that the zipper of your jeans could already be pushing against a bloating stomach. Your mother had placed 3 on your plate, and you knew that you had to finish them or else deal with her disappointment. Furious rage disguised as motherly concern. Speed is the key, you must not give your stomach the time to adjust to the thick buttermilk pancakes before getting them past your gullet. You cut them all into bite sized pieces and started to shovel them into your mouth. You’re unaware that your mother has turned from her chore, and she’s watching you eat.

“I see you’ve picked up some manners from the Wheelers this week.” Her disapproving frown and head shake freeze your movements mid bite. It has the desired effect as you sheepishly change the grip on your fork and resume your eating in a more ladylike manner. “Your father and I are leaving in an hour. Deacon Andrews will be driving by to check up on you throughout the weekend. He’s promised to call me if you’re not here.”

She always thinks of everything.

“Yes, mother. I’ll be here, I promise.” You tell her, biting back at words that sit on the tip of your tongue. I’m an adult, and I can leave the house when I want.

With your last bite, you rise and begin clearing the table. The mess your father had made would be yours to deal with, it is a woman’s job to keep the house tidy and running smoothly. It amazes you how easily you fall back into these habits when you’re in this house. The routine is a comfort to you, but it pains you all the same.

As you hand the dirty plates to your mother, she meets your eye with a sternness you are not expecting. Her voice is low and conspiratorial as she whispers, “I found what you were hiding. Father doesn’t know. You need to spend some time in your prayers and seek forgiveness. Those carnal desires inside of you are an evil you must resist.”

No, no, no. Fear shot down your body from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. Without a word, you stumble through the kitchen, up the stairs, and into your room. You shut the door gently, not making a sound. A feeling, panic, is gripping your chest tightly. The thought, She didn’t. No. She can’t have, plays on a loop inside your mind. The bitter taste of humiliation begins to crawl up your throat at the thought of what she found inside your room. Your room.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips when you see it still sitting where you left it last. You remove the books and lift the box out of its spot. Dread. Horror. Mortification. You knew before you even opened the lid what you would find, the weight of the box is all wrong in your hands. Inside, the secret box, is a Bible tract. You recognize it from the shelf next to the entrance of your father’s church. It takes the place of the small silicone device that Karen Wheeler bought for you on your 18th birthday, followed by a conversation about condoms and birth control. You remember the way she kept her eyes focused on yours, never flinching from the topic at hand, simply explaining in plain language the things that you had been taught were evil and sinful. After all, Karen Wheeler knew about the pregnancy scare in the summer of your 17th year, something neither of your parents could be trusted with. Worst of all, though - that small leather bound journal where you keep all of your most precious thoughts - gone from its secret spot.

In bold letters on the tri-folded booklet you had seen so many Sunday mornings when entering the church sanctuary - “What does the Bible say about LUST?”

Tears fell hard and fast, shame and anger at having been caught. Humiliation. You lower yourself to the ground, your forehead presses against the carpet of your closet. You think about what you’ve lost, the least of which the small vibrator used only twice since Karen gave it to you. The journal is gone. Your words, your private thoughts, are gone. Worse still, they are in your mother’s possession, where she can twist them. Make them dirty and vile. Your truest thoughts turned to ash, never to be thought by you again.

Tagging: @tomtomslongdong@big-ope-vibes@jo-harrington No pressure to interact, but I want to make sure ya'll see it if you want to read it.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things

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pisupsala · 1 year

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Any Way The Wind Blows | Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Summary | There’s a sudden shift in the mood.

Pairing | Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc (no use of y/n)

Warnings | swearing, explicit smut / 18+ only

Words | 2k

Note | Can be read as part of One For The History Books (takes place post-epilogue) but also works as a standalone.

Library

It’s sometime past midnight when Bradley and you finally make your way out of the Hard Deck. The party is winding down, with the majority of guests already gone. You offered to drive yourself back to the hotel (bars are decidedly less fun when you’re the only one not drinking), so Bradley could stay longer with his TOPGUN buddies and take an Uber back, but he wouldn’t have it.

“I’m taking you home.” His tone leaves no room for arguments. The truth is, you’ve barely had a moment of calm to yourselves in the past half year, and this trip finally gives you a weekend off together.

“I will drive, however.” You scoff. Bradley is not drunk, but definitely not sober enough to drive. He hums under his breath, drumming his fingers against your palm happily. You swear this man is a walking song poured into 6-foot something of muscle and sun-kissed skin, wrapped in a Navy uniform.

“Yes, ma’am.” Bradley jokes as he leads you to the car. The moment you want to turn to the driver’s side, Bradley pulls you with him to the other side, shielded from the entrance of the bar.

There’s a chill in the summer air, giving you goosebumps as Bradley corners you against the side of the car. His finger is gently trailing down the side of your face, down your neck to your collarbone. Your breath shudders.

“This seems familiar.” You chuckle softly as you look up at him through your lashes.

Bradley grins in response.

“Back then, you didn’t have this yet.” He grabs your left hand, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, just above where your engagement ring and wedding band sit. His other hand ghosts over your breasts, traveling down, before resting his palm over your lower stomach, on the barely-there bump. “Or this.”

“A lot has changed since then.” You admit, tilting your head up, a too-innocent smile on your face. “Are you excited to be a daddy, lieutenant commander?”

Bradley groans, burying his face in your neck. “Don’t say it like that, darlin’.”

In the past weeks, you’ve been sick. Like, throwing up on the daily from the smallest things: food smells, just food in general, god, even coffee had you barfing your guts out. Your joints ached like you were coming down with the worst flu, and you practically sleepwalked through some days because you were so tired. Now that the morning sickness in all its forms has finally been clearing up in the past few days, it’s been making place for something else.

In short, you’ve suddenly been getting overwhelmingly, insanely, blindly fucking horny.

And right now, you’re about to make that Bradley’s problem.

“What?” You squeeze his biceps as you try your hardest not to laugh. Regaining your composure, you softly yet purposefully murmur: “Daddy?”

Bradley suddenly moves so quickly, it knocks the breath out of you, pinning your left wrist against the car, pressing his thigh between your legs. You can barely reach the ground on your tiptoes as he pushes your body up against the car, his other hand splayed against your rib cage, steadying you. Giggling, you lick your lips in anticipation.

“You are playing with fire, sweetheart.” He warns you, voice dangerously low, face only inches from yours.

Blinking slowly, you look Bradley straight in the eye. His pupils are blown, and the corner of his mouth twitches. He is wound so tightly—you can feel his growing need against your leg. This is working so much better than you anticipated.

“But I want you…” You moan softly, dragging your nails over his back, rolling your hips. You are absolutely, desperately burning for Bradley.

“I’m not going to be able to stop,” He breathes, desperately trying to hold on to his last vestiges of sanity, eyes roaming around the mercifully empty lot. “Not if you continue like this.”

“Don’t stop…” You pause, brushing your lips against his. “Daddy.”

Bradley kisses you so hard, your head knocks painfully against the car window. You don’t care, kissing him back with the same vigor, wrapping yourself around him. Your dress is scandalously bunching up around your hips, the chilly ocean breeze caressing your overheated skin. Your free hand tugs helplessly at Bradley’s belt, needing him closer, grinding your hips against his.

Bradley’s hand sneaks up your dress, effortlessly pushing your lace panties to the side.

“Fuck - so wet already.” There’s nothing sweet or gentle about how his fingers plunge into you, but it’s exactly what you need. “I didn’t know my sweet wife could be so fucking filthy.” He hisses in your ear.

You moan in response.

“Be quiet.” Bradley commands sternly, sending another jolt of desire down to your core. You bite your lip, to stop yourself from making more noise. Finally, you manage to undo his belt and unbutton his pants, roughly pulling his shirt up.

Your fingers skim over the warm skin of Bradley’s stomach, his muscles tensing under your touch, the fine hair of his treasure trail guiding your path down. You dip your hand into his waistband, palming his cock over his underwear. He’s so hard for you already.

Bradley squeezes his eyes shut. He must be dreaming. Or a lot drunker than he realizes. But you, who still gets embarrassed singing in front of him at home, who prefers to not ever be at the center of attention, hiding away among the crowd as he plays piano at the Hard Deck, is now guiding his straining cock into your soaking pussy.

Outside.

In the fucking parking lot.

And have the sudden audacity to call him daddy in that needy, far too innocent tone.

Opening his eyes, the sparkle of the gems on your engagement ring in the dim light catch his eye, your wrist still pinned next to your face. Your mouth is slightly open and your breaths deep, blush dusting your cheeks, looking up at him with eyes heavy with lust.

Bradley realizes he’s helpless. When it comes to you, looking at him like that, he can’t deny you a single fucking thing. Releasing your wrist, he yanks your legs up around his hips, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. Moving his hips, he follows your lead, easily slipping into your slick pussy.

You whimper softly, biting your lip as he enters you slowly, filling you to the hilt. The metal of your rings feels cool against the side of his throat as you steady yourself against him, fingers curling around the column of his neck. Bradley pauses for a second, eyes scanning the surroundings quickly. All clear.

“Last chance to change your mind, sweetheart.” He grinds out, trying to think straight. God, he hopes you don’t. “If I start moving now, I’m not stopping until I fill you with cum.”

“Move, please, move—hard, fast, I need - please-” You whine.

“Please, what?” Bradley’s voice is dark, commanding. “Use your words, Dr. Bradshaw.” Oh, how he enjoys getting the upper hand on you right now, even for a moment, knowing full well your next words will send him over the edge.

Your brain is so clouded, like a thick mist obscures every thought, that the words tumble from you without filter.

“Please, commander -” Your head lolls back against the window as Bradley’s hand squeezes your ass painfully. “I need you, daddy.”

He drives into you so hard, it knocks every thought out of your brain. Slowly he pulls back, before setting an absolutely pushing pace, roughly fucking you against the side of the Bronco. You are in absolute ecstasy.

“Show me your tits, darlin’.” Bradley grinds out, nipping at your collarbone. Fumbling, you pull down the Bardot neckline of your dress together with the strapless bra. Your nipples pucker against the cold air. Somewhere, far away, the rational part of you understands — being exposed like this should not be such a turn-on. It’s not like you. But it feels so good.

Bradley licks your nipple before taking it in his mouth, tongue manipulating the sensitive bud. He is pretty sure your tits have been getting bigger. Fuck, just between that and apparently your newly found sexual adventurousness, he wonders how else you are still going to surprise him.

Your hand sneaks between your bodies, rubbing your clit wantonly. You want to cum, you need to. Bradley fucking you roughly, his hot mouth all over your tits, his large hands on your ass, is your whole world right now. The tension in your abdomen is taking form, tightening into a coil, electricity crackling through every muscle, every tendon—you can feel it in your bones.

Bradley can feel you tensing. Cursing under his breath, he pulls himself closer to you, his strokes becoming shorter, more erratic. Your nipples graze against the mission ribbons and insignia pinned to his uniform shirt—it’s positively sinful. Your lips latch onto his neck.

Your fingers move faster, putting more pressure on your over-sensitive clit, hips jerking from pleasure.

“So close, so—Bradley, I’m so close-” You mumble incoherently against his neck between kisses and bites. “I want to cum on your cock.”

Jesus Christ. Just those words, in your love-drunk voice, are almost enough for Bradley to come completely undone. Just a little bit more. He can feel how close you are, your walls tightening almost painfully around him.

“Cum for me, darlin’” He encourages you, breathing heavily. “Cum for daddy.”

Clearly, you stopped thinking ages ago, but whatever final bit of coherence you still possess is blasted out of orbit by Bradley’s words. Your body tightens violently, fingers curling, nails driving painfully into his shoulder through the fabric of his uniform shirt.

Bradley swears loudly as your cunt clamps down on him with a vice-like grip before biting down on your shoulder. With a final, powerful thrust, he slams your body into the car with a dull crash, holding you there for a few long seconds as you both ride out your high.

As your body relaxes, it feels like you’re floating. You’re not sure if the stars that you see dancing in front of your eyes are the night sky or your brain trying to fire back up.

Gently, ever so gently, Bradley sets you back on the ground. Your hands are still resting on his shoulders, as you look at him, still completely dazed. You blink once before hurriedly pulling your dress back up over your breasts, like your self-consciousness has suddenly caught up with you again. He tucks himself back into his pants quickly before helping you smooth down your dress.

You don’t say anything as you wrap your arms around Bradley, face pressed into his chest. He welcomes your hug, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you.” Your voice sounds strange to you, almost otherworldly in the otherwise quiet parking lot.

“I love you too, darlin’.” You can feel him chuckling more than you hear it.

“You are amazing, you know that?” You raise your head to look at Bradley. His hair is messy, the collar of his shirt is wrinkled, and there’s a blush creeping up his neck. He looks delicious.

And he didn’t have to humor you like that just now. Actually, there were so many things he doesn’t have to do for you—hold your hair when you got sick in the middle of dinner, send you flowers while he’s on detachment, and build you those custom fucking bookshelves.

But he does.

“I aim to please my love—even when she has sudden and unorthodox urges.” He jokes, winking. You hit him in the arm lightly, pouting. “What can I say? I encourage this little adventurous streak of yours.” He laughs, louder this time.

You start laughing too, despite your sudden embarrassment. “We should really go before someone catches us here.”

“Lead the way, Dr. Bradshaw.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

note | no thoughts, just smut. Inspired by this. It made me fall face first back into Bradley Bradshaw Brainrot™, so go show @gretagerwigsmuse some love. 🧡

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x reader

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shina913 · 2 years

Text

Coquet, Part 8 | JJK

Coquet, Part 8

\ kō-ˈket Definition: noun. a man who indulges in flirtation.

✫✫✫Coquet Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: Escort!JJK x Fem-reader

Rating: M (🔞)

Genre: Fake-dating!AU; Strangers to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Warnings: aftermath of medical emergency; fluffy/quiet moments; crack; infidelity; false accusations; emotional breakdown; physical altercation (without serious injury); lots of crying; cussing; vulnerable confessions and conversations; INSANE AMOUNT OF ANGST--like, seriously--buckle up!

Word count: 7.7K+ words

Summary: On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous.

A/N: Thank you so much to my lovely betas: @internetjunkdrawer for tirelessly listening to me scream about this every day this week and helping me plan out one of the most intricate scenes I've ever had to write--I might post our diagram, if I feel like it 😂 and to @deepseavibez for the great suggestions on the flow and some of the dialogue and introspection--you've added more nuance to this chapter. I am forever grateful to both of you!!!

A/N2: I do not condone violence in any shape or form. And to reiterate--this is a work of fiction. If you're familiar with my work, I tend to get very dramatic so please keep in mind that this is all for the dramz!

A/N3: Did not expect the taglist to get this big so I'm going to have to do it piece-meal for this chapter and subsequent ones. Thank you all for reading and loving the story so far. As usual, please leave me a comment, ask, or reblog. I love reading and responding to your reactions!

“Do you want me to get you something from the vending machine?”

You looked up at Taehyung, after hearing the tail-end of his question. “Uh–just water, please?”

He nodded, walking down the hall to grab some refreshments for both of you.

You realized you’d been staring at the blank, white wall while you sat in the hallway, right outside your dad’s room. The nurses were limiting visitors after his minor procedure.

After commandeering one of the shuttles and driving it back to the hotel, Taehyung ran up to his room to pick up the spare keys to your dad’s red 1960 Jaguar Drophead. Clutching the keys in his hand felt bittersweet. He didn't expect to be driving this car so soon. Your dad told Taehyung that he and Jennie could ride off to the airport on the way to their honeymoon–a wedding surprise.

The wedding…

It was one of the first things your dad said when he came to. Taehyung quickly calmed him down and told him that his health was number one priority.

The doctor said that he suffered a ventricular tachycardia episode. The diagnosis sounded more serious than what it actually was, especially after they took him into a small room and put him under anesthesia. They inserted a catheter through one of his blood vessels and applied mild radiofrequency energy so that no further arrhythmias would occur. The doctor eased your worries and assured you that since your dad did not have any history of serious heart conditions, he would bounce back in a few days. He just needed to be kept overnight to make sure that he stays stable but that he’d be discharged tomorrow, just in time for the ceremony.

Taehyung returns, handing you a bottle of water.

You murmur your thanks as you take it from him, twisting the cap open to take a swig. As you chugged down the water, you realized that you hadn’t eaten or drank anything in the last…four hours, you thought, after checking the clock in the hallway.

“Dad’s funny, he’s so worried about the wedding,” he mutters vaguely, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah…dad’s priorities need a little work,” you say wryly.

Taehyung laughs softly, sinking into the seat next to you in silence, with his shoulders slumped. After a long beat, he swallowed hard. “Fuck. I’ve never been so scared in my life,” he confesses as he buries his face in his hand.

You put your hand on the back of his neck and rubbed it reassuringly. “I know. Me, too,” you whispered.

“Thank goodness Jungkook was there. What are the chances that you bring your doctor-boyfriend over to a family function and a medical emergency breaks out?”

You chuckle to yourself. Exactly. What were the chances?

//FLASHBACK

“Y-you’re…you’re…” You stuttered.

“Yes, I am.” Jungkook gave you a small smile, trying to keep his voice hushed.

“But…h-how? When?”

“Well…I just got my MD and started my residency–which was why I was running late the day I was supposed to meet you. I had just wrapped up a shift.”

“Holy shit–a-are you sure this isn’t a part of–”

He shook his head then reached into his back pocket. “No, no. This is most certainly not part of the package,” he chuckled nervously. “Here.” He presents you with his work badge…with his real name written on it.

“You had this on you this whole time?” You ask him incredulously.

He nodded. “Yeah. Like I said, I was coming from work…I just changed out of my scrubs and into my suit at the airport.”

Your heart was racing–it felt as if you were about to have some sort of coronary episode as well. He cupped your face–calming you down almost in an instant.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way. But when you get back, I promise I’ll tell you everything, okay? Right now, I know you have to go to your dad. I’ll be back at the hotel waiting for you.”

You pressed your forehead to his. “Thank you,” you breathed out.

“You’re welcome. Are you going to be okay?” He asks softly.

You tilted your chin up to kiss him. “I will be,” you answered.

//END FLASHBACK

Your phone buzzed, reminding you of pending notifications that you have yet to look at. You pull your phone out and look at the screen–two missed calls: one from Cristina and the other from Jimin. You had several text messages from him and Mindi as well, checking in. There was another text–this one was from Jungkook.

[From Jungkook] (10:45PM): Was it a V-tach like I suspected? Did they do the radioablation on him?

You chuckled to yourself–still coming to grips with the fact that he is a doctor. You turned to Taehyung and excused yourself, stepping away to place a call.

Jungkook picks up on the second ring. “Hey.” His voice instantly calmed you.

“Hi.”

“How are things?”

“Fine, now. And you were right on the money on the diagnosis–they did do that, uhm…radio…” You had forgotten the term.

“Radioablation,” he says carefully.

“Yes, thank you,” you sighed softly. “They have to keep him overnight just to make sure that he heals nicely but–the doctors seem to think that they were able to fix the problem.”

“Yeah. It didn’t seem like your dad had any other serious health issues in the past so that sounds about right,” he says. After a beat of silence, he switches tact. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m–” you cleared your throat, “I’ll be okay,” you say slowly. “It got a little scary back there but it’s good to know he’s going to be fine.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Jungkook, you’ve done plenty already. Thank you, again. I…I don’t know how I could ever–” your voice started to crack at the thought of losing your dad. Even though the doctor had already assured you that he was safe, you still couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Hey–it was a no-brainer for me. Someone’s in trouble, I can’t just watch and let it happen.”

A warmth bloomed within you. Whether he was obligated to do it or he did it out of pure concern and care for your family, it was still incredibly noble of him.

“YN?”

You looked back to see Taehyung calling you over to your dad’s room.

“Listen, I have to go,” you say apologetically over the phone.

“It’s fine. Just text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Thank you, I will. Uhm…bye,” you signed off before following right behind Taehyung as he walked through the door.

Your dad was lucid but looked exhausted from the ordeal. He was conversational but the nurse insisted that he get some sleep to aid in his recovery.

“Why don’t you both go back to the hotel and get some rest? There’s not much we can do for your dad at this point. He just needs to sleep and wait ‘til the morning,” your mom says, sounding resigned.

“We can go back and grab some things for you. Anything in particular?” Taehyung asked.

“A change of clothes, maybe? Or his other medications?” You suggested.

Your mom nodded absently. “Yeah…yes. Clothes…that-that sounds good.” She sounded disconnected from the situation. She was still reeling from this evening’s events. You grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“He’s out of the woods now,” you say softly. “The doctor says he’ll be okay–he can go off and do normal stuff after this.“

She looked at you, tears pooling in her eyes, and nodded. You engulf her in a tight embrace and she lets out a sob. “Darling, I was so scared. So, so scared.”

“I know, mom. We were, too.” Despite her flaws and your tricky relationship, you still loved her. But marrying your stepdad was one of the best decisions that she had made. And you knew that he was one of the best things that happened to her.

As she pulled away, you wiped the tears off her cheeks. “Please tell Jungkook how grateful I am for him being there.”

You nodded. Taehyung gives her a hug as well before letting her know that you would both drive back, pick up some personal items for them and return as soon as you could.

******

After getting off the phone with YN, Jungkook runs into Jimin and gives him a quick update on her dad’s condition.

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Damn. That was pretty insane what you did back there, though.”

Jungkook chuckled. “It was nothing. I just did what I had to do.”

Jimin pats him on the back as a sign of his gratitude. “Either way, thanks, doc!” He says with a grin before walking off to find his mom.

Jungkook let out a puff of air. There wasn’t much for him to do. Everyone else was just waiting for word from YN or Taehyung on their dad’s condition.

He took a stroll down towards the lobby, thinking he’d lie down back in the room and wait for YN’s call. When he crosses the walkway to the courtyard, he overhears harsh whispers.

“I don’t understand why you are bringing this up again. Now? Of all days?” The female voice hissed.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all week and you’ve been avoiding me–”

“God! Will you ever stop? I don’t know what you want from me! I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again–it meant nothing!”

“Stop saying that it didn’t mean anything!” The male voice said.

It wasn’t like Jungkook to eavesdrop on a private and seemingly personal conversation. He decides to walk away but he hears something else that compelled him to stay.

“It was a mistake! You knew that I’ve been in love with Tae this whole time. Whatever happened was–regretful, to say the least. I was vulnerable and we shouldn’t have been drinking.”

The male let out a frustrated groan.

Jungkook carefully rounded the corner of one of the hedges that led to the courtyard to find Haru clutching Jennie’s hands.

“Please…I just…I need to know. I need to know for sure–”

“Haru, I love him! I am marrying him! I don’t know how else I can make that clear to–”

Jennie gasps and her eyes widen at the sight of Jungkook while Haru whips his head around curious to find out what she was reacting to. She withdraws her hands from him abruptly–as if they hadn’t already been caught in a compromising position.

Haru flexes his jaw and excuses himself, sidestepping Jungkook as he heads back indoors.

Jennie and Jungkook stare at each other. Her eyes start to water as she tries to figure out how to talk her way out of this situation.

“H-how much did you hear?” She asks when Haru was out of earshot. It was a stupid question but it was the first thing that she thought of. She wraps her hands around herself, suddenly feeling small.

“Enough,” he answers. “I’m guessing that she has no idea?”

She shook her head adamantly. And judging by that reaction, Taehyung was in the dark as well.

“Does anybody else know?”

“No,” she answers immediately. “I…honestly had chosen to forget about it,” she says quietly. “I told him to do the same. He’s just being an idiot. It was a mistake a-and…”

“And yet he still went ahead and broke his engagement…for you?” Jungkook directs the question at her.

Jennie’s eyes shoot up at him. Her expression turned hard. “He was being delusional!” She dropped her hands to her side and walked a few steps to the other side of the courtyard.

She took a deep breath while staring off at the distance. “We all grew up together…I’ve loved Taehyung since…forever! When he finally told me that he felt the same, I never wanted to let him go. I waited so long for him to realize it and say it. I wasn’t about to let Haru ruin that.”

“So instead you decided to break his sister’s heart.” He didn’t mean to sound accusatory but it just came out like that. He was feeling incredibly protective of YN.

“I did not decide anything,” she said slowly. “Haru and YN were engaged...I was going through some things. He was just trying to be a good friend when I needed him…we got drunk and a little carried away. It happened once and it didn’t mean anything!”

“It sounded like it meant something to him, though,” Jungkook deadpanned.

“Well, he’s wrong! I never wanted to break them up. I even tried convincing him to get back together with her but…he–he just would not listen! It was one time. One time!”

Jungkook pursed his lips and nodded.

She then closed in on him, a worried look on her face. “Y-you wouldn’t tell, would you?” She asks meekly.

His eyebrows lifted. He stared at her quietly for a few seconds.

“Jungkook–y-you wouldn’t…please?” she begged. “You guys are together now and…and Taehyung and I are getting married,” she laughed nervously. “The past doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Look, Jennie…it’s not my place.”

Her face visibly relaxes for a bit but her relief doesn’t last long.

“I know that in this situation, I’m not obligated to be truthful to you. But I feel like you need to be honest with yourself and, in turn, be honest with the man you’re going to marry. And…in the process, make amends with people you’ve hurt.” It clawed at him that one of YN’s oldest friends would betray her like this. But he decided it would be best that the truth come from her and not him.

“Jungkook…I just…I can’t right now. With Taehyung’s dad and everything else going on–I have to find the right time.”

Jungkook hummed. “Mm, you’re right. You really should time these things. So that when Taehyung hears that you screwed his best friend and that you played a part in his sister’s heartbreak, he won’t feel like the world is collapsing around him and there’s no escape…because, hey, you’re already his wife.”

She let out a shaky breath. “Jungkook–”

“Don’t worry, Jennie. Like I said, it’s not my place since I’m not involved in this situation. But as somebody who says they’re YN’s friend? I think you owe it to her. And Tae–” He thinks back to hours ago during the cocktail reception. The way he talked about Jennie and how he practically worshiped the ground that she walked on. “You can’t start your marriage off with a lie.”

Jennie’s lips narrowed into a thin line as she considered it.

******

When you and Taehyung arrived back at the hotel, you went straight to the front desk to ask for a copy of your parents’ room key to retrieve some of their personal things. Taehyung explained the situation and the staff were incredibly understanding and sent their warm wishes for your dad’s recovery.

After they hand the key card, Taehyung shoots straight for the elevators with you following right behind but he stops you.

“Hey, uh–maybe we should split up. I can go up and grab their things but–would you mind doing me a huge favor?”

“Of course,” you replied.

“Could you find Jennie for me and tell her that I’ll be down in a few? Last time she called me, she said she was somewhere out back with her family. Or…I don’t know,” He scratched his head. “Maybe she’s in the bridal suite–I don’t even remember what room–”

“Tae–say no more. I’ll look around for her.”

He gives you a small nod of gratitude before he steps into the elevator. You walk off, making your way to the courtyard when you see Jungkook sitting in one corner of the lobby.

He sees you out of the corner of his eye and immediately rises to move towards you.

Upon seeing him, you felt…lighter. You walked, no–practically broke into a sprint as he came to meet you halfway, immediately wrapping you in his arms.

“Hey,” he says as he nuzzled into your hair.

“Hey, doc,” you chuckled softly into his chest. You felt his laugh rumble within him, tickling your ear. You pulled away, regarding him intently for a bit.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

You smiled. “No,” you say lightly. “I just–” you chuckled again. “This is so crazy,” you whispered to him.

He nodded. “I know. I’ve never had to use my actual job as a cover story.”

“W-we could have gone with my original idea? That you’d be a shrink?”

He snorted. “I thought I’d try a different strategy for this booking. Although…I never thought I’d actually have to practice medicine.”

“Well–that was…incredibly lucky,” you said, referring to your dad’s emergency.

His face turns serious. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded earnestly, tilting your chin up to press your lips to his. “I’m good now,” you smiled at him. His expression softens and he smiles back.

“The doctor who treated dad sounded reassuring before Tae and I left.” Suddenly, you remember what you were supposed to do, before getting distracted, per usual, by Jungkook. “Actually, we were just stopping by to grab a few things for my parents then we have to head back again. Have you seen Jennie, by the way? Tae asked me to look for her.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows quirk at the sound of her name. He shifted uncomfortably–although you didn’t think much of it. “I, uh–thought I saw her walk off with her mom somewhere. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll call Mindi to find out–but first–I think I need to pee,” you grimaced. “All of this tension is shrinking my bladder. I’ll be right back.” You hear him chuckle softly as you pull away from him, walking towards the lobby restrooms, to the left of the elevators.

******

When you walk out the door and back down the hallway, you are startled when Haru blocks your path. “Holy shit, Haru! What the—“

“Can we talk? Please?”

You hesitate. “Uh…do we have to?“ You say tensely. You were stressed enough and didn’t know how much time you had left to find Jennie before Taehyung made his way back down to the lobby.

“Look, I saw you and Jungkook talking and you looked really upset,” he started quickly. It baffled the hell out of you but you were more surprised to learn that your little moment with Jungkook was not-so-private after all. Your heart started pounding, thinking that the jig was up.

“A-and I know what you’re thinking right now but I need you to listen to my side of the story,” Haru continued.

Your eyebrows knit further in confusion. Before you could open your mouth to argue, Haru pressed on. “I want you to know that I didn’t do it to hurt you…b-but after what happened, I just felt incredibly confused.”

He was confused? What about you?

“H-Haru, I’m…not following,” you utter slowly.

Ignoring your last remark, he continued his word vomit. “I started feeling all of these things and…I just couldn’t shake them. I tried, believe me, I tried really hard to fight it. And it wasn’t like I didn’t already know how Taehyungie felt about her—“

Her.

Your mouth went dry. It was as if the wind had been knocked out of you.

“...Then I thought about us and…I realized that…I didn’t want to be unfair to you. I couldn’t.”

The room felt unsteady all of a sudden. Or maybe those were your legs–legs that you weren’t even sure belonged to you right this second.

“YN? I’m so sorry. I’ve been wanting to tell you–”

“No.” Your voice sounded unfamiliar to you. “No,” you repeated the word forcefully, as if not comprehending fast enough. “I…I can’t…I can’t deal with this…” Your chest felt tight and you were absolutely sick to your stomach.

You started to walk off. Ears ringing as if a bomb had gone off. You were unsure which direction you were going–but you wanted to move somewhere safe. You wanted to go and find Jungkook…your safe place.

Feeling unsteady on your feet, you stumbled but you felt Jungkook swoop you up in his arms right away.

“What happened? Did he do anything to you?” He asked as he glared at Haru, who stayed rooted to the spot.

“I-I…” you stuttered, trying to get over the shock.

“I can’t believe you told her!”

You were jolted by a shrill voice coming from the right side of the elevators. You pulled away from Jungkook to lay your eyes at her. But when you turned to look–you were confused as to whom she directed her ire at.

Was she looking at you?

You traced her line of sight and were shocked to find that she was glaring at Jungkook. You looked again to make sure that you weren’t hallucinating.

You tore your eyes away from Jennie a second time and looked back at the man in front of you. “You…you knew?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and blink furiously “H-hold on–”

“You knew?” You repeated, wrenching yourself away from him.

“It's not what you think…” he started to take steps towards you but you held your hand up to stop him.

“You knew and you didn’t tell me?!” You say more aggressively at him this time. When he didn’t respond, you turned your attention to Jennie. “Does Taehyung know?” You yelled, looking back at Haru, who had stepped in closer.

Jennie gasps at the sight of him and stands frozen, realizing Jungkook wasn’t the one who revealed her secret— it was Haru.

“Does Taehyung know what?”

None of you heard the elevator ding. Everyone’s heads whip around to find Taehyung stepping into the lobby, carrying a small duffel bag with him.

“What? What is it that I know? Or don’t know?” He asks curiously while looking around at everyone.

You were visibly shaking from anger, jaw clenched, fists balled up. You wanted to scream out their indiscretion right then but somehow, you couldn’t make words come out of your mouth.

“YN?” His face scrunched up in confusion upon seeing the distressed look on your face. “Will somebody tell me what the fuck is going on? Jagiya? Haru?”

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat—wondering how much longer he could stay out of this.

But everyone seems to have forgotten how to speak. Taehyung asks again, sounding more irritated this time. “Guys, seriously–if nobody tells me–”

“I slept with Jennie,” Haru blurts out.

Tears start streaming from Jennie’s eyes.

Taehyung let out a humorless chuckle and turned to his friend. “What?”

“Jennie and I…we had sex,” Haru said again–as if the point hadn’t gotten across yet.

There were only seconds of silence in between those moments but it felt like eons.

Taehyung turned to Jennie who was struggling to contain her sobs. “I-it was right before we got together. I-it didn’t mean anything,” she whimpered.

His neck whipped sideways at his friend, silently asking for an explanation.

“I’m in love with her, man. I…I love her–”

Jennie interjected immediately. “But I love you, jagi–it’s always been you!”

Taehyung glances at you. Tears stung your eyes but not from hurt…it was from rage. But you saw the pain etched all over your brother’s face. It was a look you’d rarely seen during your childhood. Then, his lip suddenly curled into a sneer before he lunged at Haru, ramming into him and taking him down.

It all happened so quickly.

The two men hit the marble floor with a thud. Someone yelled. There was a distant sound of screaming. You stood there, frozen and silent, emotions twisting within you.

Taehyung pinned Haru by the throat and pummeled his jaw with a series of blows. Haru grunted with each brutal impact and struggled to break free.

Some bodies zoomed past you, coming from different directions as they attempted to break up the melee.

Mindi and Jimin round the corner after hearing the commotion.

You couldn’t stand being in the presence of other people right this second. You needed to walk away…needed to leave this situation before you exploded. Your feet started moving on their own–finding yourself walking towards the courtyard and out to the beach.

Jungkook tries to pull Taehyung off a bloodied Haru when Jimin jumps in, trying to hold his friend back as well. He gives Jimin a look and he nods, telling him that he’s got this so he could go after you.

“Tae, stop–you’re getting married tomorrow!” Jimin says through gritted teeth after finally managing to pull Taehyung far enough from Haru.

Taehyung quits struggling at the sound of Jimin’s reminder. Breathing raggedly, he shrugs off Jimin’s hold and gives Haru and Jennie a look–both pained and contemptuous. “The hell I am,” he growled. “Wedding’s off,” he declared.

As he takes a couple of steps away, Jennie tries to stop him, begging him to let her explain things. “Jagi, please,” she sobbed.

“No, don’t,” he shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t even look at you right now,” he seethed.

Her shoulders sag. Mindi approaches quietly and pulls Jennie into her arms, where she breaks down watching Taehyung storm off.

Jimin eyes Haru with contempt. After he is helped up by two other groomsmen, he utters, “Clean yourself up and get your ass out of here if you know what’s good for you.”

******

“Wait up!” Jungkook calls out to you.

“Leave me alone!” You trudge through sand, thinking how comical you must look. But you didn’t give a shit at this point. You were incredibly angry. Angry at Haru. Angry at yourself. Angry at…everything!

“YN, wait!”

“I can’t believe I trusted you,” you say indignantly.

“Will you stop running away for one second?” He catches up to you in a few strides.

You stopped abruptly to turn and face him. You aggressively swipe at the tears dripping down your cheeks.

“How could you not have told me?” You seethed.

He scoffed. Opening his mouth preparing to say something but shutting it just as quickly. He looked like he was at a loss for words. “What did you expect me to say? I–”

“You should have told me,” you cut him off. “Instead, you let me make a fool out of myself. You lied. But hey, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised because that’s what you do. That’s what your whole business is built on…that’s who you are. A liar!”

He tossed his head back and let out a bitter chuckle. “Oh? So we’re back to judging me again, are we? That’s rich,” he says icily. “You’re pointing the finger at me? The man whom you hired to pretend to be your boyfriend?”

The reality check was a punch in the gut…as if you hadn’t gotten enough of those tonight. What’s another one?

You square your shoulders and tilted your chin up, acknowledging his argument. “Okay, you’re right. I did that. I was so desperate to make everyone believe that I was okay…that I was happy…that I decided to pay $8,000 for a lie.” You swallowed hard. “But at the end of the day, the only one who ended up falling for it was me,” you spit out angrily.

You hated saying it out loud because it made you acknowledge how delusional you might have become.

His expression turned solemn. “You know, I figured you were running out of steam on this jilted-fiance story and you needed some fuel to ruin your next relationship. So go ahead! Hate me.” He stretched his arms out on either side and shrugged. “Consider it part of the package.”

You looked away from him. Regretting the last two days…the last few hours. He made you feel safe, showed you that he cared. He shared things about himself. And for a minute, you let yourself believe it…that you had fallen for the real thing–and not the fantasy.

“I won’t be needing any more of your services,” you mustered.

He nodded, feeling resigned. “Gotcha. I’ll get my things and be out of your hair tonight.” Turning on his heel, he takes one last look at you before leaving.

You watched his figure grow smaller as he moved further away from you. This was what you had feared the most: leaning in far too close and falling hard–with nobody to catch you.

Your legs give out, sinking onto the sandy surface. You bury your head in your hands and mentally kick yourself for thinking that you could find happiness again.

******

Jungkook nearly takes the door off its hinges when he enters the room. He was on a mission–stuff everything in his suitcase, as quickly as he can, and get the fuck out of here.

He marches into the bathroom, grabs all of his toiletries, and tosses them haphazardly into his luggage. He pulls his phone charger off the outlet. He yanks the garment bags out of the closet, setting them on the bed, then does one final sweep of the bedroom and bathroom to make sure that he’s collected all of his belongings.

Next, he pulls up the return flight information on his phone and calls customer service. Unfortunately, the airline was no longer taking red-eye reservations since it was nearing midnight so he booked the first available flight leaving in the morning instead. The associate proceeded to tell him about extra fees which he agreed to quickly.

He resolves to stay at a different hotel, thinking it was pointless to be on standby at the airport.

After he books it online, he goes to pick up his carry-on bag. He tosses his charger and other knick-knacks in it. Before he zips it up, he sees a white envelope. The one that YN handed to him on their first night.

He takes it out and walks over by the night stand to grab a pen. He sighed before scribbling something on it. Afterwards, he tosses it on the mattress. He picked up his backpack, swung the garment bags over his shoulder and dragged his suitcase, quietly walking out the door.

To his relief, the lobby was clear. He had ordered a rideshare and planned on waiting for it by the hotel’s driveway.

Only a minute into waiting, he hears someone call his name.

“You’re leaving?” Taehyung asks.

Surprised to see him there, he had to think of something quickly. He had hoped to make a quiet, uneventful getaway.

“Uh–I got a call from the hospital. My boss recalled me. They need me for an emergency back home.” He felt terrible about lying to Taehyung. He thought that maybe he had had enough falsehoods for the night. As much as it pained him to do it, he still thought about protecting YN and their cover story.

“Oh. What about YN?”

“I…we talked about it...you know, before–” Jungkook trailed off, not wanting to bring up the incident that just occurred. “I told her that I’d call her as soon as I take care of things,” he said with a small smile.

“Do you need a ride somewhere?” Taehyung looked as if he was on autopilot. Jungkook catches a glimpse of his bruised knuckles from the fight earlier.

Jungkook hesitated. “I was going to take a rideshare to a hotel near the airport.”

Taehyung’s expression was deadpan. “Tell me where it’s at and I’ll drive you.”

“A-are you sure? W-what about–”

“Listen–you’re leaving and I don’t really want to be here right now. It’s a win-win for both of us. What do you say?”

******

The ride to Jungkook’s hotel was quiet. Taehyung kept his eyes straight on the road.

When they pull up to the parking lot, he shuts the engine off.

“Thanks for the ride,” Jungkook utters.

“Don’t mention it,” Taehyung replied.

Jungkook peers at Taehyung, whose elbow rested on the car door while his other hand loosely held onto the steering wheel.

“I uhm–hope you had a nice trip out here?” He says dryly.

Jungkook sighed. “Yeah. It was great. Thanks, Tae,” he says, feeling sheepish all of a sudden. He paused for a beat. “I’m…I’m really sorry about…Jennie.”

Taehyung is silent for a minute. Jungkook regrets the comment but before he takes it back, Taehyung spoke. “I think I wouldn’t have been as angry if it were someone else.” He pursed his lips, trying to stop himself from verbalizing it, as if it would make it less real.

“Not Haru.” Taehyung continued as his eyes flicked downward, falling silent for another minute or so while he flexed his bruised hand. “I feel like shit, Jungkook. I–I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I can’t believe I…” he swallowed hard. “Fuck, I can’t believe I let YN–”

“You can’t blame yourself for that, Tae. YN decided that she valued your relationship more and didn’t want to put you in a tough spot.” He tries to say consolingly.

“You know, I’ve had Jennie up on a pedestal since–” he stopped short after realizing something. “...Since I put her there,” he trailed off quietly. Jennie, the girl next door. The good girl, always in the honor roll…always the sweetheart. She’d never hurt a fly.

“You couldn’t have known, Taehyung. She had no clue either.”

“But that’s what sucks, doesn’t it? I feel so fucking guilty. I felt bad enough that my sister chose to leave…she gave me an out. Now, I feel like the biggest schmuck,” he says regretfully. “And…I feel awful that I had a hand in hurting her, too,” he says quietly.

“Don’t beat yourself up for this. She dealt with the situation the way she thought was best.”

Taehyung leaned back against the headrest, sighing heavily. Jungkook couldn’t imagine going through all of these emotions in a single night. The first few days of his residency had been rough. Unlike his clients, he found it incredibly difficult not to get attached to a patient. It was a strange feeling for him at first. With clients, he learned to care enough about them to a certain degree–to make them feel comfortable. But when that job was done, he went home and simply disconnected. As a doctor, the connection was much harder to shake off with a patient.

Taehyung was not his patient–but in the few days that he had gotten to know him, it wasn’t difficult to feel empathy towards him…and practically the rest of YN's family.

“I still love her,” Taehyung whispers. He chuckled wryly at his admission. “And I’m supposed to be angry because she hurt me…and she hurt my sister. Loving her even after all that–I feel like that's so wrong in so many ways.”

“You can feel both.” Jungkook said quietly while staring at nothing in particular. “It’s amazing how someone can break your heart and you can still love them with all the little pieces.”

Taehyung lifted his head to peer up at him in curiosity. Jungkook pursed his lips, quietly thinking about the last few days. He reminded himself that he had originally accepted the booking as a change of pace since he was getting tired of running on the old hamster wheel–and his friend convinced him to do so–for his sanity. It turned out that this trip had surprised him in more ways than one.

YN had surpassed all of his expectations, gaining access to all of his self-imposed “perimeters.” She had only managed to do that because he willingly gave her access. He opened himself up and practically let her walk through.

Jungkook puffed out his cheeks and released a breath. Then the next few words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “The hardest thing is loving someone and having the courage to let them love you back.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying any more. He was feeling vulnerable, too. But for now, he would have to set those thoughts aside. Between the both of them, only one would talk about how heartbroken they were tonight.

Jungkook shook his head gently. “Well, if you know her shit, and she knows yours–and at the end of the day, you’d still rather give up than try…nothing’s ever going to be worth it,” he looks at Taehyung pointedly.

Taehyung lets his words sink in and they fall silent once more.

“Thanks for listening.” Taehyung mumbled.

His response came instantaneously. “Anytime.”

“I didn’t mean to hold you up. I, uh–have to go back to the hospital anyway.”

“I don’t mind at all. If anything, I feel bad delaying you,” Jungkook utters before stepping out of the car and retrieving his things from the backseat. “Thanks again for the ride, Tae.” He said it as earnestly as he could–thinking this could be the last time he’d ever see him.

“You’re welcome. And I hope your emergency gets resolved soon. I’m sure YN can’t wait until you’re back together. She’ll need you.”

Jungkook forced a smile. “Yeah. I hope so.” He made it sound like he was responding to the part about the ‘emergency’ when in fact he was actually referring to the last part of Taehyung’s statement.

“Anyway–drive safely. I hope,” He paused for a beat, “I hope that everything works out,” he sighed, thinking that it was the wrong thing to say in this situation but he was sincere about it and wanted to let Taehyung know that he meant it.

Taehyung gave an ambiguous head bob, keeping his expression blank before turning the engine back on and reversing out of the spot.

Jungkook gave him a quick wave and watched the taillights fade into the night.

******

After you calmed down, you wandered back towards the hotel. Taehyung sent a quick text apologizing for taking off and that he went on to return to the hospital to bring your parents’ things after dropping Jungkook off at another hotel.

Selfishly, you wondered whether Jungkook had decided to let the cat out of the bag. Taehyung didn’t seem to hint at knowing anything about it and it wasn’t really the right time to ask him about it. You would just deal with it later.

As you close in at the hotel entrance, you see Haru stepping out to load his things into a cab. He catches you from his peripheral and slows down. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever he might do next.

You stood there in silence while his cab idled. He had a cut on his eyebrow that matched the one on his swollen lip–which was only dwarfed by the bruise on his cheek. Your brother certainly did a number on him. He tilted his head slightly, a completely dejected look on his face and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

You nodded curtly, acknowledging the apology but not necessarily accepting it. He nods in return before he dips into the back seat and rides off.

*******

You get off the elevator and walk quietly down the hallway, feeling some odd sense of relief that you were not going to run into Jungkook. You freeze on the spot when you see Jennie sitting on the floor by your room. She hugged her legs to her chest, her chin resting on her knees. God knows how long she’d been waiting there.

You broke into a cold sweat and were tempted to run back to the elevator. But something propelled you to continue walking towards her. You decided within yourself that you were done running. You swallowed hard and tried to calm yourself.

Hearing footsteps, she lifts her head to find you advancing towards her. She stands quickly, trying to compose herself.

So many thoughts ran through your head as you stared her down. You were very tempted to slap her. You clenched your fist but quickly relaxed it–trying to avoid doing something you might regret.

“I…I was hoping we could talk,” Jennie says shakily.

You stared at her blankly while she wrung her hands. “Well? Talk.” You deadpanned. Truthfully, you were interested to hear what she had to say. After she repeatedly shut you down during her bachelorette party after you drunkenly rambled on about Haru.

She inhaled sharply. “I’m–really, really sorry…about everything. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

“Well, that would have been really shitty of you if you wanted any of this to happen.” You were eerily calm. “When?”

“YN–”

“When?” You asked again.

“It was…sometime in March. A couple months before Tae and I got together. I…I was just so in love with him and I didn’t know how to tell him. I only called Haru because I needed his help.”

Even though she didn’t tell you the exact date, you had a feeling of when this night in question occurred. You and Haru had a stupid argument about the wedding registry and he stormed off. Thinking back, you remembered that you had been fighting a lot in the weeks leading up to your breakup.

“We met up for drinks, a-and—“

You didn’t need the rest of the details. “Did Mindi know?”

She shook her head adamantly. “No, I never told anybody.”

You and Haru made up when he got home the next morning and you thought everything was going to be fine but it was short-lived. Less than a couple weeks later, he dropped the bomb on you and ended things. Mindi and Jennie were your first calls.

“You saw me hurting, you saw me questioning myself after it happened. I had replayed almost every scenario–analyzed it to no end, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. And after all this time, you knew.” Your eyes stung with tears.

“I know that there’s no excuse for what I did. I instantly regretted it. I told Haru that after he came to me with this ridiculous confession after Taehyung and I had gotten together. I told him that ending your engagement was a big mistake. I tried very hard to convince him to fix things with you.”

And you both know how her efforts turned out.

Before going on this trip, you dreaded seeing Haru the most. You were afraid that he would stir up feelings in you that you thought had already faded with time. The last few days made you realize that you didn’t love him anymore. But there was one feeling that lingered–it was failure.

For a year, you thought that you were the problem. He left you, so you got it in your head that you caused the relationship’s failure.

But it wasn’t your fault. And after thinking on it more tonight, it wasn’t Haru’s fault either. Tonight’s revelations shed some light on many truths. Even some that you didn’t expect.

“I’m…so, so sorry. For everything,” she sniffled.

“Taehyung should be back soon,” you say calmly and unceremoniously.

“Yeah, I think I’m the last person he’ll want to see.” She wiped her tears. Her eyes are swollen and bloodshot from all of tonight’s events.

“You still love him, right?” Despite everything, you had no doubt about how Jennie felt about your brother.

She nodded wordlessly.

You’ve watched them love each other from a distance for years. When they finally got together, it made you yearn for something even half as good as what they shared.

She kept this from him because she had a sinking feeling that what they had wouldn’t be able to weather the truth.

“Lies erode trust, Jennie. By nature, we count on people who tell the truth. Honesty…brings us joy and builds stronger connections.” You saw that quote somewhere–not remembering who said it but it seemed appropriate for the situation.

Whatever you had with Haru was long gone. All those years of friendship that eventually turned to love—ruined, beyond repair. Ultimately, things weren’t meant to be with him.

As much as it pained you to say it, you still thought that what Taehyung and Jennie had was real—even after finding out her indiscretion towards you.

A year ago, you would have been spiteful. Wanting to hurt Haru as much as he hurt you. And what good would that have done? Even now, as your body calms down from the shock of it all, you feel oddly at peace.

“You should still try talking to him. He’s feeling raw, I’m sure but…if you love him, you have to try.”

You stared at her quietly as she cried softly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “And…thank you…for giving me that closure that I needed,” you finished.

She opened her mouth tentatively, looking like she was deciding whether she should say anything else or not. She swallowed hard. “D-does this mean that…you forgive me?” She whispered.

You softened your face. “Right now? No,” you say simply.

Her expression is pained and quite frankly, you didn’t want to twist that blade any further.

“But I won’t stay angry. That said, I think,” you paused, “…that should be enough for both of us to move on from this. I can’t tell you how things will turn out tomorrow but tonight, I can’t pretend that everything is okay.”

She nodded in acceptance. Before you tap your keycard to the door, she stops you to tell you one last thing.

“For what it’s worth—Jungkook had nothing to do with this. He overheard me and Haru arguing. He tried convincing me to come out with it.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, steeling yourself.

“I-I know I fucked up before but—I hope…I hope that I can at least salvage this relationship for you. He didn’t do anything wrong,” she says quietly before walking away.

With that, you open the door to your room and shut it behind you.

You took a few steps in and scanned the place. It was a sizable junior suite…but the last few days, it felt much smaller than that. More intimate.

You reached the closet to find one side of it empty. You looked around some more, as if taking stock of what was missing.

Nothing of yours. Just his.

You sat on the bed, feeling numb. You pushed him away…and he left, just as you wanted him to.

At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

With a deep sigh, you flopped onto the mattress, with your hands above your head. As your back lands on it, your hand hits something else with a weird ‘thwack.’

You blindly feel around for the item. Once you grasped it, you held it up to your line of sight.

The words written on it made you sit up once more.

It’s all there. Trust me.

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