#I never know how to answer when I’m asked what’s been happening recently

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Home to Thrive In

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: You still live next door to Tim Bradford's mother, and when he visits for the first time in years, you have to decide if you're willing to let go of the idea of him you fell in love with.

Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for 4x09 "Breakdown", angst, arguments, discussion of past abuse, r is Tim's childhood friend, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

A/N: It's late. This may be terrible. I will reassess tomorrow.

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“Have you talked to Mom recently?” Genny asks. When Tim doesn’t answer, she sighs and murmurs, “Don’t know why I thought you would.”

“Isn’t it bad enough that you’re dragging me back into the Tom Bradford-centric world I’ve been trying to outrun since we were kids? Now you want me to tell Mom about everything that’s happened,” Tim argues. “I’m already working on a murder case that Dad hid for decades. I don’t need more family drama right now, Genny."

“She worries about you, Tim. Just wants to be part of your life again.”

Tim's phone rings, a saving grace, and he excuses himself as he pushes his chair away from the table and leaves his sister.

“Tim,” Lucy greets. “I brought Monica Ochoa back in.”

“The woman who was killed by the gun I found in my dad’s house. Why?”

“Because I knew there was more to her story. You- you couldn’t see past the version that you wanted to see.”

“What’d she say?”

“Your dad… Tim, Monica confessed.”

Tim hangs up on Lucy, walks directly past his sister while ignoring her questions, and gets in his truck to visit his dad. To see if he’ll tell the truth when he has no other choice or if he’s really the terrible man Tim thinks he is.

“You didn’t kill Frank,” Tim states.

Tom sighs before he counters, “Sure I did. Now, come on. Cuff me. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Monica confessed.”

“Leave her out of this.”

“Frank was beating her. She fought back. She shot him. She was terrified, so she ran to you. You came up with the burglary story, helped her stage the house, then you hid the gun in case the cops got too close, and you needed to frame someone else.”

“He was brutal, abusive,” Tom explains. “She deserves a medal for what she did.”

“He was abusive?” Tim repeats.

“What? You think I’m like him? I was nothing like Frank. I taught you what you needed to know, son. You’re a man now because of me.”

“No. I’m who I am in spite of you,” Tim replies. His dad doesn’t speak, and Tim nods as he adds, “Goodbye, Dad. I hope it hurts.”

In the hallway outside his dad’s room, Tim pulls his phone from his pocket and calls Grey.

“Bradford,” Wade greets as the call connects.

“I need to take some personal time,” Tim says instead of a salutation.

“Lord knows you’ve stashed up enough of it. Where are you going?”

“To see someone I should’ve visited a long time ago.”

“You did the right thing, Tim. Take your time and know we’re here for you when you get back.”

Tim ends the call, then texts his sister that he’s taking her advice. He hasn’t been home to his mom’s house in years, and he needs her, needs space from his family and his station, and needs to work through the events of the week on his own. Though he isn’t sure if he’s welcome or if his mother's new home will feel the same as it did fifteen years ago, Tim gets in his truck and drives toward the last place he felt at home.

Your evening walk is refreshing, and the sunset helps you focus on the beauty of the day as you wind down.

“Sweetheart!” your neighbor calls, waving from her porch.

“Mrs. Bradford,” you greet with a smile as you step onto her walkway. “How are you today?”

“Good, good. Talked to Genny earlier, she’s visiting Tim.”

You smile and nod, unwilling to touch the sensitive subject of Tim. Growing up with him, you saw the worst parts of his childhood, home life, and father, but that never added up to you. He ran away from his mother, from love and home just to outrun bad memories. A task you know to be impossible.

“How was your book?” you ask, moving away from Mrs. Bradford’s stressful family life. “Did you finish it last night?”

“I did. You were right, the twist at the end was a shock. I thought the vigilante did it!”

“Interesting,” you muse. “I was torn between him and the builder.”

Mrs. Bradford hums before her oven beeps.

“You take care of that,” you say as you wrap your arms over her shoulders in a quick hug. “We’ll talk about the book and start the sequel on Saturday?”

“Count on it. Have a good night!”

“You too!”

Headlights reflect off your front door as you push it open, but you don’t bother to turn around and see who it is. Two of your neighbors get home around this time, and there aren’t many visitors or tourists in your area. So, when you’re closing the curtains and notice an unfamiliar truck in Mrs. Bradford’s driveway, you decide to watch and ensure everything is okay.

“Tim!” Mrs. Bradford calls excitedly as the driver’s door opens. She rushes out and pulls him into a hug, and from the way he grips her and buries his face against her shoulder like he’s eight again, you know that this isn’t just a sorry I stopped calling, Mom visit. Something happened and that’s the only reason he’s home.

“Welcome home, Tim,” you whisper before you pull the curtains together and put the distance you’re used to back between you and Tim.

You kneel by your front door to tie your shoes. Then you untie them and loop the laces differently. Knowing that Tim Bradford is next door makes you hesitate to go outside. Yet, you don’t want to let him impact your life more than he already has. It wouldn’t be surprising to learn that his mother already told him about your downward spiral, how you fell apart when he left without so much as a word. As a kid, you fell in love with Tim Bradford, and you stayed in love with the idea of him in high school. Then, when he disappeared without a word or trace, and you only found out that he was a cop for the LAPD through his sister, you decided that the idea of him was as good as you would ever get.

“You can do this,” you tell yourself as you stand and lay your hand on the doorknob. “It’s just the man who has occupied your every thought for years. Just walk by.”

The magnitude of your mistake hits you in full force when you’re nearly past Mrs. Bradford’s fence. Tim says your name and your heart clenches at the realization that you remembered his voice so well. Years of hearing it in your dreams will preserve your memory like that.

“Tim,” you reply, swallowing as you face him. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“It wasn’t exactly the plan. Genny showed up and everything just kind of blew up in my face.”

Kind of like what you put me through, you think. Rather than saying it, you nod sympathetically.

“Did my mom… did she tell you about my dad?”

“Tim, your mom tells me a lot. But no one close to your mom has brought him up in years.”

“Wish my sister had gotten that message,” Tim scoffs.

“I hope you enjoy the time with your mom,” you interrupt. “But I’ve got to get going.”

“Right,” Tim agrees. “I’ll see you around.”

You nod but feel your chest tighten as you hope he’s wrong. Losing Tim Bradford again is not an option, so you refuse to let him closer than he needs to be.

“I didn’t know she moved with you, still lived next door,” Tim muses as his mother ushers him inside for breakfast.

“You don’t know much,” she points out, not unkindly but not untrue. “She knows more than you. I’ve told her everything Genny passed along. You were so close as kids.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees before he trails off. He remembers being friends, but not the kind of friends that would ask about each other. “I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”

“Well, you can hardly blame her.”

“What does that mean?”

Tim’s mother looks at him and presses her lips together. He has her eyes, but he doesn’t have her understanding or the intuition about people she tried to instill in him when his father wasn’t trying to teach him to be a man.

“If you can’t see it, Tim, it’s too late to explain it. She’s coming over for lunch and our duet book club tomorrow. You have thirty hours to read the book if you want to participate.”

“Thank you for letting me come home, Mom.”

She lays her hand on Tim’s shoulder and promises, “You’re always welcome here, Timothy.”

You knock on Mrs. Bradford’s door while Tim’s truck is gone. With one of her signature ceramic loaf pans in your hands, filled with your favorite cookies, you wait for the door to open to return her dish and offer some goodies.

“Sorry to…” you begin as the door opens. “Oh, Tim. Sorry, your truck was gone so I assumed your mom would be here.”

“She borrowed my truck to do something that she refused to have help for. Come on in.”

Tim opens the door for you, and for reasons beyond your comprehension, you accept his invitation and walk inside. After you set the pan on the counter, you turn around to leave, but Tim is leaning against the table and watching you.

“Enjoying your time off?” you question, wringing your fingers together behind your back.

“I am. Especially after the last case I worked on,” Tim answers. “My mom hasn’t told me much about you.”

You hum and look at your feet as you reply, “Not much to tell.”

“She seems to tell you a lot.”

“Look, Tim, I’m just trying to respect your boundaries. She told me that your dad was involved in something, a murder, but it’s not my business.”

“Frank Ochoa,” Tim interjects.

You furrow your brows as you ask, “Monica’s husband? But that was a robbery.”

Tim tilts his head to the side as he says, “My dad admitted to killing him. He was protecting Monica.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod.

“But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“What?”

Tim stands from the table, his crossed arms falling to his sides. “You knew something and didn’t tell anybody, didn’t you?”

“Tim, I-“

“Look, I’ve been lied to by too many people this week. You still have the same tell you did in elementary school. What did you know?”

You clench your jaw and step to the right to go around Tim, but he moves to block you, and rather than running into his chest, you retreat further into Mrs. Bradford’s kitchen.

“This case – the people there – have been lied to, we’ve been wrong, there’s been no justice for decades. And you’ve known something the whole time? How can you live with that?”

“How can I live with it?” you repeat incredulously. “How was I – a child, Tim – supposed to go to the police and tell them that I saw Frank beating Monica over and over? They wouldn’t have believed me!”

“You didn’t try!”

“Yes, I did!” you yell. Wiping the single tear that managed to escape in your memories of the only time you tried to help your neighbors, you lose some of your fight.

“Doesn’t seem like you tried very hard,” Tim adds under his breath.

You laugh once and shake your head. “I told the police your dad was beating you, Tim. You know what happened? They came and asked him about it. He denied everything. After they left, he took you out into the backyard and demanded to know who you told. So, see if you can wrap your cop brain about why I was scared to tell on someone else.”

“I didn’t know you-“

“You didn’t know anything, Tim.”

Tim scoffs and argues, “Oh and you know so much about who I am now because of what my sister tells my mom?”

“At least I talk to your mom, Tim,” you snap. Immediately, you regret it. “I’m sorry,” you offer.

“I couldn’t,” Tim defends.

“Did you try?”

Tim’s truck rumbles as his mother returns from the store, and you hold Tim’s stare until the engine shuts off.

“Can I leave now, or do you want to blame me for something else?”

Tim steps back and opens his mouth, but you storm past him before he can say anything else. You return to your house after you hug Mrs. Bradford and tell her about the cookies. The idea of Tim Bradford that you’ve clung to since childhood is growing fuzzy around the edges, and alone in your house, you cry over what he told you today, the mistakes you made, and the loss of the Tim you were born to love.

Someone knocks on your door the following morning, and you stare at it rather than walking toward it.

“Sweetheart, it’s me,” Mrs. Bradford calls.

With a sigh, you stand and invite her in, not caring if she notices your teary eyes or unusual attitude.

“I thought you might want someone to talk to. Somewhere away from my son,” she explains as she leads you to your dining table. “So, I brought food and company. Choose what you want.”

“It’s not just Tim,” you explain. “I mean… he was right, but it’s different.”

“Different than when you fell in love with him?” she guesses.

You look up at her, wide-eyed at her question. She smiles and gestures for you to continue.

“I’ve been dreaming about him coming back, thinking that we could pick up where we left off, but he’s nothing like what I remember.”

“Time will do that,” she soothes, taking your hand over the table.

“It didn’t do it to me.”

“Sweetheart… you didn’t let it. I love you, you know that, but you cling so tightly to the past, to the familiar, that you haven’t allowed yourself to adapt to the beauty of the growth and changes around you. Haven’t even let yourself show the woman you’ve become.”

You lick your lips before sniffling and asking, “What if I don’t like it?”

“But what if you thrive in it?”

Wiping the back of your free hand across your face, you clear your tears and nod. You know that Mrs. Bradford is right, but you also know that there will be pain in the beauty when you choose to move forward.

“Does he hate me?” you whisper.

“Timothy? I don’t think he could ever hate you.”

“He can sure blame me for a lot, though,” you point out with a wet laugh.

“Beating himself up over that at the moment, if you’re wondering. And, when you’re ready to talk to him, maybe you should try getting to know who he is today.”

You nod and pull a homemade candy from her special-made meal. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, are we going to keep crying over silly boys or try to solve a murder mystery on a pioneer plantation?”

Dressed in your favorite outfit, you shift from foot to foot on Mrs. Bradford’s porch as you try to get your courage up. Just as you lift your hand to knock, a throat clears behind you. You spin around quickly, then release a breath and press your hand over your racing heart.

“You could have told me you were back there sooner,” you point out softly.

“I wanted to see where this was going,” Tim answers, closing his tailgate. “Listen, about the other day-“

You raise your hand to silence Tim and shake your hand. “I came over here to talk to you. About more than that. Do you maybe want to go somewhere to do that?”

Tim nods and opens the passenger door of his truck, offering his hand as he helps you in without a word. The drive to the local high school football field is quick but silent, and when you exit the truck and join Tim on the tailgate to watch the sunset, you take a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that with your dad, the house, Frank, all that,” you begin. “But I’m sorrier that I didn’t do more back then.”

Tim nods and says, “You were right. They wouldn’t have listened, or it would’ve spooked my dad and made everything worse.”

“I guess we’ll never know.” You look at Tim’s profile and ask, “Are you okay?”

“No,” he admits without hesitation. “My dad was protecting Monica. He never did anything to protect us, but his mistress – broke half a dozen laws for her.”

“I knew that, too,” you whisper. “My mom made me stop sitting by the door after that year, which was probably a good thing. Uhm, are they going to prosecute your dad?”

“No. Not on his death bad. But it doesn’t matter. He’ll get judged soon enough.”

You nod, your eyes still on Tim rather than the pink sunset before you. His eyes have teared up, and everything inside of you begs for you to just let go.

“Tim, you’re nothing like him. You know that, right?”

Tim nods a tiny movement that breaks your heart. This isn’t the Tim you remember, not the Tim from elementary school or the one who was punished for your ill-conceived attempt to help. Most importantly, you realize, this isn’t the Tim you’ve dreamed of loving. Tim Bradford, the man before you, is who you can love, want to love, and desperately, wholly, devastatingly need to love.

With a deep breath, you release everything you’ve been holding onto. Your grip on your dreams, on your memory of Tim and what you thought you wanted, and the moment that trapped you in your position of being terrified to do the wrong thing in your efforts to do good weakens, and you feel like a flower in bloom. Everything seems new, the possibilities are endless, and you’re a new person who isn’t afraid to do right, even when it terrifies you and carries the potential to break your heart.

“Tim,” you whisper.

He turns toward you, drawn by the tone in your voice, and blinks past his tears. You shift on his tailgate and raise your arms toward his shoulders. Tim leans forward and meets you halfway, pulling you into his lap as you collapse into a hug that heals the broken edges of who you are. With Tim’s arms against your back and waist, you feel more at home than ever, and he feels the same. His mother’s house was never the home he was returning to, but a pursuit for this feeling, right in your arms.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur against his shoulder.

He shakes his head, tightening his grip on you, and this version of you - unafraid, complete in Tim Bradford’s arms - is ready to thrive. You won’t heal overnight; neither of you will, but it’s a start.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Tim laughs against your neck before he pulls back gently to retrieve his phone from his pocket.

“My mom,” he tells you. “If you haven’t kissed her yet, what are you waiting for? Another set of wrinkles?”

You fail to stop the laugh that escapes at Mrs. Bradford’s bluntness. Then, you realize how glad you are that he’s reading her text messages.

“Well?” you ask. “Should we kiss or wait for more wrinkles?”

Tim pushes a stray hair out of your face and promises, “None of it was your fault.”

You nod and thank him, then brush your thumbs against his cheeks. “Last time we were on a field together, it was raining. I also wanted you to kiss me then.”

“You never told me.”

“How was I supposed to tell you that, Tim?” you ask. “I… I was caught up in an idea of who we could be, and I was scared to ruin it by doing something new.”

“And now?”

Rather than asking for what you want, you take it as you lean forward and kiss Tim. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, and the first raindrop feels suspiciously like a teardrop as it runs down your face and onto Tim’s. You laugh as you run toward the truck doors, thunder rumbling as a storm approaches from the west. In the truck with Tim, you find yourself face-to-face with a better version of the dream life you craved in Tim’s absence.

Bonus:

“Get inside, it’s going to start raining again!” Mrs. Bradford calls from the kitchen when she hears the door open. “Don’t need you catching a cold on your time off, Timothy.”

You press your lips together and smile at Tim, who is drenched after offering you his jacket to hold over your head in a poor attempt to stay somewhat dry.

“She’s going to mother you, too,” he points out.

“Hey, I’m used to it,” you reply. “Like it, even.”

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Bradford murmurs as she appears in the doorway. “Go get dried off and change, Tim.”

After he disappears into his room, Mrs. Bradford offers you a towel and a change of clothes. She smiles as she leans in and says, “Flowers that thrive need plenty of rain to grow, you know.”

[daemonwritesstuff]

AEGON II & HIS BELOVED AELLARA TARGARYEN

A/N: this is yet another trade with my best bud @sugutoad !! I’m so happy to do yet another one of these and I hope I did this one with justice (I think I’m just gonna go dig up a hole and die in there once this is posted 🧍) but I will forever be grateful to do so many matchups with ya 😭❤️ here ya go! and yes this is aegon x anna’s OC!

It was a peaceful evening for the two couples Aegon and Aellara, they spend their nights together in each other rooms or someone deep into the night with no one around, it was just them together in the world.

 Aellara and Aegon’s relationship was a secret, no one knew about them only his family did, including his sister-wife Helaena, she understood their situation and aware of how in love they were, she wouldn’t interfere with them…

One night where Aellara and Aegon usually met up frequently, this time they were in his own chambers… When Aegon and Aellara are in each others arms she decides to ask a question to her beloved and it was a very simple question that no one should really be upset about, she asked the boy “Are we ever gonna be together?” Aegon got out of her arms in confusion, why was she asking such a question?

“Of course we are…” Aegon assured her but it really wouldn’t last long and the tension started getting more stronger, Aellara was losing her hope… her thoughts kept bugging her, telling herself that maybe this love was not meant to be.

She had said it out loud… not knowing that Aegon was still with her, he got up and started yelling at her… telling her that they will be together but Aellara is sick of hearing the same thing, if Aegon really loves her and wants her then wouldn’t he do something about this marriage he was in and finally be with her?

“I… I don’t think this was meant to be…” she said as she let out her sobs, her pain, everything single horrible thing she has ever thought of, she let all of it out during this breakdown, before Aegon could even say a word she unstably got up, lifted her dress and started running away sobbing, Aegon’s soul was screaming at him to tell his guards to go after her, to stop her, but the words… nothing could come out of his mouth as his heart kept putting pressure on him and he started crying.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It’s been a few days since he was last spoken to Aellara, she has not spoken face to face with him recently and he began to grow anxious, waiting for her to come back to him so he can be in the comfort of her arms, the real place he called “home”.

He decided to use his sword and start attacking a wooden statue (meant for using swords) to let out his anger, Criston just happened to be waking by and stopped by and asked Aegon if he wanted to duel with him, and without a doubt he did… this lasted for a few hours until Aegon has gotten tired and decided to sit down.

Aegon told Criston how he can make it up to his beloved, Aellara… how he can fix things with her once again, it took Criston a few moments to figure out something and tell him, he told him that he can invite her somewhere she wants to go, no questions or anything, just to take her. He also added that he can divorce Helaena somehow and try to plead to his mother to let him marry Aellara.

Aegon who listened to Cristons words decided to do exactly what he said, he had got the cooks to pack him and his mistress a meal, one of his liking and of her liking so he can make it up to her, after the meals have been cooked and brought to him Aegon bumps into Aellara and tells her to come with him and he has a surprise, she was a little bit suspicious of what he was doing but never declined, just giving short answers like “Ok”.

He wanted to take her dragon to go and eat but Aellara took a liking to his dragon and insisted that she would like to go on his dragon, he could never decline anything his beloved wanted, so he decided to take her on Sunfyre and fly off to the destination he planned to take her.

Once they arrive they got to a garden that they both enjoyed going to here and there for dates, it was also the same garden he also took her to on his first date with her. They start talking like they normally do and after some time after talking there’s a silence, but Aellara decides to break that silence and lean over to kiss him, and then Aegon gives her a few pecks back and they both smile sweetly to each other.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

After their pleasant little picnic they enjoyed Aegon takes her to go walk up a hill, enjoying the view of the sunset, he tells her “Do you ever wanna just run away?” Aellara giggles at his silly question and jokes back with him, causing him to start joking back with her and telling her (terrible) jokes that make her crack up.

After they stop laughing at some point Aellara decided to tell him something that she needed to tell him (before the argument never happened) but she was nervous to, after getting him to listen to her she decided to tell him that she is with a child…

His smile fell, but after a few seconds his smile came back and he picked her up and started spinning her around in joy and starts celebrating a little that he’s gonna have a child with her! But he sooner realizes that the child might be a bastard and is worried about how she’ll react, but Aellara reassures him that she doesn’t care as long has their child has their father with them in their life.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

After Aegon heads back he immediately tries to talk with his parents and his grandfather, Otto Hightower. Aegon immediately tells them that he wants a divorce with Helaena and to let him marry Aellara, she was also of his blood too and it would strengthen more of the bond more.

Viserys refuses this at first because of their traditions and tells him that he shouldn’t try to do that, to keep the tradition going and he focuses on his legos after that 💀. On the other hand with Alicent and Otto also persist and they start bringing up the history of the Dawn’s Empire between House Dayne and House Targaryen (which was kind of stupid to compare that to…)

But after some time, Viserys will allow him to marry Aellara and get divorced with Helaena (much to his sisters joy, she can finally be free from being queen and go back to focusing more on her insects).

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

After some months, Aellara and Aegon are officially married! They got married in the way of Old Valyria since it would strengthen them more through soul and no one would be able to separate them at all, not even the gods.

Their party was amazing and so much fun, lavish but the room was filled with joy, there was a lot of singing, talking and dancing, there was no bad stuff happening at all, all anxiety and fear was gone, it was a refresh for a better life they were about to have. Aellara and Aegon were made for each other and no one could ever separate them, no matter how much they try.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Skin

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‐‐‐

Rating:General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, angst, bitter ex, major friend group dynamic shift

Category:F/M

Fandom: Outerbanks (OBX), (Netflix TV series)

Relationships: JJ Maybank x f reader

Summary: Kie's slowly getting under your skin especially when you're JJ's new girlfriend

Based on recent experiences, and the song skin by Sabrina Carpenter has been stuck in my head for like 6 months on top of the recent experiences...

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**"Maybe we could’ve been friends, if I met you in another life…"**

The thought crosses my mind as I stand in the middle of the living room, fiddling with my phone, and waiting for JJ to come back from the kitchen. The memory of Kiara's expression when she found out about us is still fresh, lingering like a bitter taste I can’t wash away. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but I guess things never go as planned.

“You okay?” JJ's voice pulls me from my thoughts as he enters the room, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He’s balancing two mugs of coffee in his hands, making his way toward me like everything in the world is perfectly fine.

I nod, forcing a smile back. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

He hands me one of the mugs, his fingers brushing against mine. The contact is warm, grounding me in the moment. "About Kie?"

I glance away. He knows me too well.

“It’s hard not to think about her,” I admit, sitting down on the worn-out couch. “She was—no, she *is* my friend. I hate that it feels like I’m betraying her.”

JJ sighs and sits next to me, his arm resting casually behind my shoulders. “You didn’t do anything wrong. She’ll come around. It’s just gonna take time.”

**"I’m happy and you hate it, hate it, oh…"**

I wish I could believe him. It’s not that I don’t want to be with JJ—it’s that being with him comes with a whole mess of complications I didn’t see coming. Kie and JJ had always had this unspoken connection. At least, that’s what everyone thought, including me. And then I fell for him. Hard.

Now, it’s like every glance from Kiara is a reminder that I’ve taken something she didn’t realize she wanted until it was too late.

“I don’t think she’s ever going to be okay with it,” I confess quietly. “With us.”

JJ chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Well, that’s too bad. Because I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

His words make my heart flutter, even though the doubt still lingers in the back of my mind. I know he means it—he’s serious about us, about this. But how do I move forward when the person I care about most next to JJ feels like I’m rubbing this relationship in her face?

**"You can try to get under my, under my, under my skin, while he’s on mine."**

I take a deep breath and lean into him, letting his warmth seep into me. I want to focus on him, on this moment, but the guilt weighs heavy on my chest.

“You think she’ll really get over it?” I ask softly, not really expecting an answer but needing to hear him say it anyway.

JJ turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against my temple. “Eventually. Or maybe not. But either way, I’m not giving this up.” His voice is firm, and I can feel the truth in it.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to silence the doubt. There’s something undeniably special between us—something that wasn’t there with anyone else. And maybe that’s why it feels so complicated. Maybe that’s why Kiara reacted the way she did when she found out.

**"I wish you knew that even you can’t get under my skin, if I don’t let you in…"**

“It’s not just Kie,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “It’s everything. The looks. The comments.”

JJ pulls back slightly, his blue eyes searching mine. “You mean from the others? John B? Pope?”

I nod. “They keep acting like this is something we should’ve told them about sooner. Like we should’ve asked for permission or something.”

JJ sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know it’s complicated with the Pogues, but at the end of the day, they’re gonna support us. Maybe they’re just weirded out because they didn’t see it coming. But who cares? This is about *us*, not them.”

His words are reassuring, but the sting of Kiara’s reaction still sits heavy in my chest. When she found out, the hurt in her eyes was unmistakable. She hadn’t said much, but the silence spoke volumes. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so torn between two people in my life.

“You don’t think I’m a terrible friend, do you?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

JJ tilts his head, his expression softening as he looks at me. “No. You’re not a terrible friend. You just…fell in love. And sometimes, that happens in ways people don’t expect.”

**"And I’m not asking you to let it go, but you’ve been telling your side, so I’ll be telling mine."*

It’s true. Kiara hasn’t exactly been shy about expressing her feelings on the matter, even if it’s been in subtle ways—pointed comments, sideways glances, and the awkward tension that fills the room whenever the three of us are together. But I’ve kept my side of the story mostly to myself, too afraid to make things worse.

“You know she called me the other night?” I say, breaking the silence.

JJ raises an eyebrow. “What did she say?”

“She just…wanted to know why. Why *you*? Why now?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, his jaw tensing slightly as he processes my words. “And what did you tell her?”

I shrug, feeling the weight of that conversation settle over me again. “I told her the truth. That it just…happened. That I didn’t plan on falling for you, but I did.”

JJ’s lips quirk into a small smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in it. “And how did she take that?”

I let out a soft laugh, though it’s more out of exasperation than amusement. “She didn’t really respond. Just said she needed time to figure things out.”

He leans back on the couch, pulling me closer into his side. “Then let her have her time. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

**"You can try to get under my, under my, under my skin… but he’s all mine."**

The thing is, I know he’s right. I know that no matter what happens with Kiara or anyone else, this—what we have—it’s real. And I can’t let their opinions, their judgment, get in the way of that. JJ is mine, and I am his. That’s all that should matter.

“I just don’t want to lose her,” I admit softly, resting my head against his shoulder. “Or anyone.”

“You won’t,” JJ murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “And even if things are rocky for a while, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

I close my eyes, letting the comfort of his words wash over me. Maybe it won’t always be easy. Maybe there will always be a part of Kiara that resents me for this. But I can’t let that hold me back from being happy.

**"You can’t get under my skin, if I don’t let you in."**

And I won’t let her. Not anymore.

I pull back slightly to look at JJ, his face soft in the dim light of the room. “I love you, you know.”

His eyes light up with that mischievous glint I’ve come to adore, and he leans in, his lips brushing mine. “I know. And I love you too.”

For the first time in a while, I feel like maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

[totally-here]

3 times Phantom's Guardian was Mentioned + 1 Time He Showed Up

One

Phantom’s introduction to Young Justice wasn’t as dramatic as Empress’ or Slobo’s, or even Arrowette’s first introduction to the cave. No, it wasn’t during the Olympics, or on a battlefield, and he didn’t come in injured and looking for help. 

Impulse just brought Phantom in one day and insisted that he should join because he’s their age, interested in justice, and now that Greta’s human again they need another ghost member. So Phantom stayed, popping in and out for missions but never really sticking around all that long. 

Today is one of the days that Phantom’s with them on a mission, that being looking around a lab of the Brain’s that had an energy surge recently, despite it being presumably abandoned. 

Kon got paired up with Phantom to check the rest out first, since they both have better hearing than Anita and Tim, who were both still in the main room working on checking the computers for previous activity. 

The room is dark except for the light green ball glowing slightly above Phantom’s hand. He waves it around enough for it to reflect off of glass, then throws it up to the ceiling. The light expands enough to illuminate the room. 

Phantom mumbles about not knowing he could do that. Kon ignores him and moves closer to inspect the glass tubes to the side of several monitors set up. 

“Looks like cloning equipment,” Phantom says, casually. He drags a finger through the dust gathering on one of the monitors. “Don’t think they’ve been activated recently, though, so that’s good.”

“What? You got a problem with clones or something?” It’s a quick and defensive answer, and Phantom puts his hands up in surrender. 

“Not in concept.” He shrugs and joins Kon near the tubes. “But not a lot of people ask before making clones.”

“So I don’t need to sic Superman on you?” Obviously Kon could chew Phantom out himself, but few can do a “not mad, just disappointed” face better than Clark. 

Phantom scrunches his face. “Why would you need to?” 

Kon stops pretending to inspect the tube and stares at Phantom. “You do know I’m a clone, right?” The blank look on Phantom’s face tells him that no, he did not. “Well I am. Clone of Superman, though we’re pretty much brothers now.”

“Cool,” Phantom says, not a bit less friendly. He hesitates for a second before continuing, “Could I maybe ask you how you got there? Me and my clone have landed on cousins, but that was also, like, given to us by her evil dad. So.”

Phantom trails off. Huh, that makes three members of the team that have been cloned. Not a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened three times. 

“You’re making sure she feels accepted, right?” 

“Yeah! Well, whenever she’s around. She,” Phantom waves his hand around, looking for the right word, “She’s a wanderer. Exploring the world and stuff. But Richard has a room for her at home, and I remind her of that whenever she does stop by.” 

“Well, first of all, don’t push it so hard,” Kon says. Phantom nods enthusiastically. “And second, who’s Richard?”

Kon doesn’t know a lot of Richards, and he doesn’t think that Phantom ever mentioned one before. Or even if he remembers his living life. 

“Oh, he’s my, uh, guardian? I guess that’s the best term. The guy I’m living with who forces me to go to school sometimes.” Phantom looks away and back to the tubes. 

Before Kon can ask for more details, Robin and Empress come in with a report of dead computers and wanting to know where they’re at with the cloning room.

They’re unimpressed with their lack of progress.

Two

Wally doesn’t really need to come by the Hamilton Lodge that often, not when that’s Young Justice’s territory and he doesn’t want to get involved in all of That.

But Red Tornado said that the team has a file on a planet that’s very quickly becoming a league problem, and he figured it might be a good time to try to check in with Bart, anyway. Make sure he hasn’t run any cars off cliffs again and all that. 

So he stops by Manchester to ask Bart about the file, then they both head East to actually find it. 

When they arrive at the hotel minutes later, Wally’s surprised to actually find it… clean? There’s no visible trash or overturned furniture or anything else he’d expect from an abandoned hotel filled with teenagers. Well, maybe not filled, lately. He doesn’t think anyone’s living here currently, with Greta at Elias’ for the school year and Slobo gone. 

Still, the room smells slightly of artificial pine scent, and Bart perks up before disappearing and reappearing rapidly, holding a teammate up by his armpits. Said teammate just accepts this, his legs folding into a wispy tail, and head rolling against his shoulders. 

“This is Phantom!” Bart holds him up higher. Phantom waves. Wally’s only heard of him through Max’s updates, the same way he would hear about Preston or Carol, but with more wariness about the supposed ghost. 

Actually looking at the pale face and glowing green eyes contrasting against the darker than dark jumpsuit, Wally’s a little more ready to accept his claim at being undead. 

“He stress cleans,” Bart explains, moving to carry Phantom under his arm. Wally bites down the urge to tell him to put him down, but only because Phantom doesn’t resist the hold, only moving to get into a more comfortable position. His hands are touching the floor. “So what happened?” 

Bart directs the question downwards, and Phantom heaves a very dramatic sigh. Definitely a teenager. It does raise the question of who exactly this kid’s mentor is. Hopefully he does have one. Maybe he’s the Spectre’s kid?

Phantom phases through the arm holding him only to lay on top of Bart’s hair. “I accidentally called Richard dad. And then fled.” 

Bart nods sagely. “Classic. One time I accidentally called Max dad, so I had to start a fire to distract him.”

Phantom sighs again, almost dreamily. “Genius.” 

Wally doesn’t have time to unpack all of that. Well he does, but he’s not going to, because there’s really only one Richard that comes to mind that might have the heart to take in a dead kid, even if he doesn’t go by his full name.

But surely Dick would have told him, or any other Titan, if he had adopted a kid. Right?

But there’s still a little shadow of doubt. Maybe Dick wanted it to be a secret, or it was really new or had a rocky start. Phantom doesn’t seem to hold himself like a Bat, but it’s not a guarantee Dick would have trained him. 

“The lodge looks nice,” Wally offers out loud, which Phantom shrugs at and wraps his tail around Bart’s head to keep secure. “Anyway, Impulse. The file on Myrg?” 

“Oh yeah!” Again, Bart disappears then reappears a few seconds later with a paper file. They really need to start digitizing more of these things. “That’s the planet where we played baseball so that they wouldn’t destroy Earth!” 

“You what.” 

The prospect of Dick following in his dad’s footsteps is forgotten in the face of what the hell Young Justice got up to on Myrg. 

Three

Tim may be in a…Predicament. 

It’s not his fault. Really. He knew what he was doing. He couldn’t let a civilian fall for the trap. But they were already so close, so he just, kinda, pushed himself into the rope instead. 

So there Robin is, tied upside down in a warehouse, with the Joker below next to an overly complicated control panel. The clown’s rambling about bombs hidden all over the city that Tim knows Batman is already tracking down with Batgirl. 

Tim’s not really paying attention to the rant because of that, more focused on wiggling enough to get the spare mini-birdarang out of his glove to cut the rope without notifying the Joker. 

“Yikes, bad time?” Asks Phantom’s voice beside him. Based on the source and accounting for the slight echo, he’s floating with his head near Tim’s, likely upside down. “Want some help?” 

Tim gets the birdarang out and starts sawing at the thick rope. They should be fine anyway, but stalling the Joker for extra time would be helpful. “Can you possess the Joker? Just hold him still.”

“The correct term is overshadow, but sure.” The voice disappears, and a few seconds later the Joker freezes. 

His body jerks forward, then backward, and a laugh chokes out of his throat. His hand claws over his mouth at the noise and he hunches over. All movement halts before he rights himself, shaking out his hands and rolling his shoulders. Phantom looks up at Tim and his eyes are glowing. 

Tim cuts through the rope, kicking and using the momentum to right himself and land on his feet. He brushes past Phantom in Joker’s body to handle the control panel. He turns off the radio broadcast and dismantles the bomb strapped to the panel.

Threat handled, he turns to Phantom and holds up some handcuffs. “Let me arrest you?”

Phantom obliges, turning the Joker’s body around and putting his hands behind his back. Tim lets him walk by himself out of the warehouse and moves the handcuffs around a lamppost. The Joker’s body jerks again, then slumps forward, just as Phantom reappears next to him, scowling down at the unconscious body. 

“That felt really slimy. Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Phantom grouches. 

“Why’re you in Gotham?” Tim asks. It’s not like Phantom makes a habit of visiting. The last time he came into the city, he complained about feeling the dead under the streets. Fortunately, that let Tim uncover a few tunnels that Talons travel through. Phantom, however, was unnerved by the Talons and left quickly. 

“Oh, Solomon Grundy’s back in our sewers. Richard said I should probably tell one of you Gotham heroes, since you keep track of those guys.” He shakes out his hands like they were cramped in the Joker. 

They hadn’t seen Grundy in a while. Tim assumed he was currently in a less violent personality. “What’s he doing?” 

Phantom shrugs. “Just chilling. Mostly underground. I tried to talk to him but he only grunted back at me. He also tried to pick me up, dunno what that was about.”

“Maybe because you’re both dead?” Tim guessed. That would be a surface level connection. Ivy and Woodrue have had more luck working with Grundy than anyone, and Phantom definitely doesn’t have the connection to the Green that’d help with that. 

Police lights turn around the corner, and Tim shoots a grapple to get to the roof above them. Phantom follows, but disappears as soon as they’re on the roof. Going back home, probably. 

Cass drops down from the roof she was listening on. “Richard?”

“Not the same one.”

They both stick around long enough to watch the Joker get put into the cop car. 

Plus one

A spaceship landed in the forests of New York, and Cassie’s team was the first to respond to it. Technically not respond, but check it out, since there wasn’t any alert or anything. 

Still, Wonder Girl has Empress, Robin, and Superboy on the other side of the ship, watching what looks like the back door, while she, Impulse, and Phantom watch the other door and main window. She has binoculars, but the windows are so tinted she can’t quite make anything out. 

No aliens have come out yet, and she hesitates to have anyone go in, in case whoever inside does turn hostile. 

Impulse has offered to run through a total of five times already, and it’s a testament to his restraint that he hasn’t, and a testament to Cassie’s that she hasn’t yelled at him yet. Phantom at least isn’t being annoying, but he’s not necessarily helpful, either. He’s not even watching the spaceship anymore. Now he’s trying to make a flower crown out of dandelions. 

“Door’s opening on our side,” Robin says from the comms. “But no one’s coming out.” 

“Alright, good enough to try to get in,” Cassie decides. She turns to Phantom, who’s closing off the circle of flowers. Beside him, Impulse has since pulled out a gameboy. “Phantom, go in invisibly through the open door and report back. Try to see what their plans are.” 

“Oh, sure. One second.” Phantom finishes the crown and tries to put it on Bart’s head. It doesn’t quite fit over his mane of hair, but Phantom shrugs and leaves it sitting there anyway before going invisible. 

“Maybe I should shave my head again,” Bart says as his game character dies. 

He gets a resounding no in response. 

Half an hour later they have a very annoyed Green Lantern lecturing them about league jurisdiction and knowing when to call someone else. 

Apparently, the alien ship was just stopping to complete some maintenance, and did not appreciate any spying on them, and especially did not appreciate who did it. Green Lantern was more than happy to explain that Wonder Girl’s team is not really a part of the Justice League and he can help with their maintenance. They denied his help and left to find a place with less people in it. 

“-and you!” Green Lantern rounds on Phantom next, but Cassie knows none of them are really listening. Sure, they messed up by freaking out the visiting aliens, and yeah maybe they should have contacted the league about it, but they’ve dealt with stuff worse than this! It’s not Cassie’s fault she thought that this would have stuck to the formula. 

“Who even are you?” Green Lantern runs a hand through his black hair, stupid green gauntlets shining in the sunlight. “Do I need to call your mentor?” He frowns. “Or do they know you mess up alien technology by just being around it?” 

Phantom scoffs and rolls his eyes. “How was I supposed to know their tech would go all fuzzy when I came in?” 

“You wouldn’t have to know if you just stayed out of the spaceship!” 

“Hey!” Cassie cuts in. “Technically that was my call. It’s not all on Phantom.”

“I still could've been more careful,” Phantom says to her, ignoring Green Lantern as they argue about blame. 

“Cut it out for a second, okay?” Green Lantern puts a hand between them and they stop to glare at him. He pulls the hand back. “Look, can I just talk to one of your adults about this?” 

Robin glares. “We don’t need an adult. We have this under control.”

“Only because I’m here now.” 

“I’ll call my mentor,” Phantom says. Kon opens his mouth, most likely to offer to call Superman instead in hopes of a lighter sentence, but Bart covers his mouth, smiling like he knows something Cassie doesn’t. Tim and Anita share a look, and don’t intervene as Phantom pulls out a phone from his chest. 

It rings once before it’s picked up. Cassie can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Kon’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Hey, do you think you can pick me up? Green Lantern wants to talk to you.” Phantom looks Green Lantern up and down then says, “No, this one doesn’t have a cape.”

Phantom says goodbye after rattling off their coordinates, hangs up, and stares at Green Lantern in silence for a few seconds. 

And then a swirling mass of black seeps into the space next to Phantom. The end of a cane steps out of it, followed by a leg, then the rest of the immaculately dressed man holding the handle of the cane that’s shaped like a bird’s head. 

“Phantom,” The man says. His voice drips with condescension in only a way a british accent can, yet Phantom smiles up at him. The shadowy portal behind him disappears. “What, exactly, happened?”

“That’s the fucking Shade,” Anita hisses to Robin, who shrugs noncommittedly at her. Green Lantern seems to recognise him too, taking a step back and clenching his hand that holds his ring. 

“Well, the team and I were staking out this spaceship–super cool, by the way–and I went inside to check it out, but my presence messed with their tech–which was an accident–and they freaked out, so I freaked out, and then we kinda got into a little fight until Green Lantern came to mediate.”

“Hm. Is that right?” The Shade asks Green Lantern, who nods slowly, still anticipating an attack. “It seems like the problem’s fixed, then.”

“Well, yes, but–”

“And it does seem about time for these kids to get home, doesn't it?” The Shade pulls out an actual pocket watch, chain and all, from his suit pocket and takes his time in checking it. “I’ll see them home.” 

Shadows grow from behind the team, swirling until they become a giant, gaping maw that swallows them up and spits them out in a different forest, or maybe just a different part of the same forest. 

Either way, Cassie has to take a moment to make sure she doesn’t throw up from the sudden vertigo the shadow portal caused. 

The Shade looks at Phantom, and raises an eyebrow. “You can’t expect me to always bail you out.” 

Phantom shrugs, looking guilty. “I know. Thanks, Richard.”

Oh, so that’s who Richard is. Annoyingly, neither Tim or Bart look surprised by this revelation.

[emberuby]

you deserve better | l.hs

pairing: lee heeseung x fem! reader

summary: heeseung overhears you crying about your asshole of a boyfriend. he'd do anything to show you how much better you deserve.

warnings: best friend's brother! heeseung, age gap (hee is 3 years older), mentions of body shaming, heavy insecurity, toxic ex, infidelity but it's deserved, soft dom! heesung, simp heesung, sub! reader, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, missionary, creampie, sort of angst?, hurt comfort, not proofread.

wc: 4.7k

“Stop being such a pussy and break up with him already,” Sunoo groaned, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. Hojung slapped him on the shoulder and glared fiercely. She felt a surge of frustration on your behalf at Sunoo's nonchalant attitude.

“Sunoo! That’s not helping,” Hojung snarled, her eyes filled with annoyance as she looked at him, but they softened when she turned back to you.

You looked utterly miserable, eyes red and puffy from crying. Your hair was a mess, and your mascara was smeared in blotchy streaks across your cheeks from constantly rubbing your face.

You had recently discovered that your boyfriend of six months was growing bored of your relationship, especially your sex life. You knew it was a trivial thing to cry over, and Sunoo was right. Breaking up with him would be the simplest solution to end this cycle of misery.

“Come on, I'm just being real. He’s clearly not worth it. He humiliates you in front of his friends, sexualises you in front of them, mocks your weight, and can’t even make you orgasm but has the audacity to say the sex is boring? Hojung, why haven’t we kicked his ass yet?” Sunoo folded his arms across his chest and scowled, imagining the worst possible things happening to your boyfriend.

Hojung looked deflated as she slowly nodded, agreeing with everything Sunoo said. She grabbed your hand softly and looked at you with pure sympathy. “Y/N, I hate seeing you like this. Why are you still with him?”

You hiccuped, feeling on the verge of tears again at her worried tone. Despite hating to burden your best friends with your problems, they had been persistent in getting you to open up about what had been happening since they noticed your change in demeanour over the past few weeks.

You had been unusually quiet and dejected, often barricading yourself in your room. Sunoo and Hojung decided to hold an intervention, and now here you were, tipsy off a few seltzers, spilling everything that had been plaguing your relationship onto them. At first, they were angry with you for not telling them sooner, but now their focus was solely on your cunt of a boyfriend.

“I don’t know,” you sniffed, “I have no idea why I’m still with a man who makes me so utterly insecure. I guess I think…I won’t be able to find someone if I were to leave him. I’ve never had guys go after me so a small part of me thinks I should just deal with this because what other choice do I have?” You knew you sounded pathetic, but at this point, you couldn’t care less. 

“Is that what he told you?” Sunoo asked, now matching Hojung’s level of rage.

You stayed silent, but the answer was yes. Your boyfriend always told you how lucky you were to be in a relationship with him given how dull and flawed you were. Before this relationship, you couldn’t remember having this many confidence issues, but ever since he came into your life, you can’t help but believe his words. Maybe you were so undesirable that this is your one and only chance for a relationship. 

“Snap out of it, Y/N! None of what you said was true. You are beautiful and so incredible." Hojung furrowed her eyebrow and drunkenly yelled, “I will kill that bastard for making you feel this way, I swear!”

“Oh! But if I said that, you’d call me all sorts of dramatic,” Sunoo scoffed.

“Yeah, because you would actually mean it,” Hojung retorted, snapping her fingers in front of Sunni’s face. It made you flashback to your early high school days when Sunoo would go after boys who teased you, usually by physically confronting them in the courtyard.

“I…You’re right. Both of you. I will break up with him, soon. I just hope I’m not such a coward that I chicken out like last time,” you used the ends of your sweater to wipe the tears away from your eyes, not caring anymore about the mascara stains that were being left on the fabric.

“You’re telling me you tried to break up with him before and didn’t follow through?” Hojung gasped. 

Before you could answer, you heard footsteps approaching. Turning around, you saw Lee Heeseung, Hojung’s older brother. Despite knowing he was off-limits, you couldn’t help but get nervous and infatuated every time he was around. Ever since you met him at thirteen, you’ve had a crush on him that was all too obvious to Hojung, not that she ever commented on it.

Perhaps it was slightly more than a tiny crush, but either way, you knew your place and never sought after him. Even if he wasn’t your best friend’s older brother, you knew he was way above your league. He carried himself with a confidence and beauty you could only dream of possessing.

It had been a year since you’d last seen Heeseung. He went off to a university in Europe but came back periodically to visit his family. Now that he was almost graduating and had more free time, he decided to come home for a few months and was staying at your and Hojung’s apartment for the week to catch up with his baby sister. 

Hojung snapped her head up at him, furrowing her eyebrows. “Heeseung! What do you need? We’re having a private conversation,” she scolded. 

Heeseung came up behind her to ruffle her hair, much to her annoyance. “You need to watch how much you drink,” he said sternly. 

“Ugh, I didn’t drink that much. I’m fine. Now go away!” She slurred.

“Fine!” Heeseung raised his arms slightly in surrender, “I just came to get some water.”

Heeseung looked down into your eyes, mesmerising you. You held eye contact for a moment before you got too nervous and tried to find anywhere else to look. Although his stare was rather intense and mostly unreadable, there was a hint of concern etched on his expression. “You okay?” He asked.

You nodded meekly, face heating up at the embarrassment of him having to see you in this state—a crying and babbling mess over a boyfriend who clearly wasn’t worth your tears. You tried to lower your gaze so it wouldn’t be so obvious to him, but it was mostly useless.

Heeseung walked over to the fridge and took out four water bottles. When he came back to the table, you felt him behind you, and the heat emanating off his body was all too noticeable. Your breathing became irregular as he leaned over from behind you to place the water bottles on the table. 

Hojung took a swig of water and suddenly tumbled out of her seat, running towards the kitchen to empty the contents of her stomach into the sink. You stood up to hold her hair back, followed by a worried but calm Heeseung. 

“How much did she drink?” Heeseung asked.

You kept your mouth shut, but Sunoo didn’t seem to have a problem with tattling as he said, “A few seltzers, a bottle of soju, three shots of tequila,” he grabbed a can from Hojung’s side of the table and inspected it, “And a beer?”

“Fucking hell,” you heard Heeseung murmur under his breath. “Hojung, what is your problem? You know you’re a lightweight.”

Hojung just groaned back, too dishevelled to say anything. You placed your palm on her forehead and felt it burn. 

“Alright, that’s enough, let’s wrap it up. Hojung, go to bed,” Heeseung scolded. 

“Sunoo, I’ll call you an Uber and—,” you started.

“No, he can stay and sleep on the couch, it’s too late. All of you go clean yourselves up and go to sleep,” Heeseung instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Heeseung and Sunoo led Hojung back to her room, holding onto her by the shoulders.  

You were sitting alone at the table now, scattered with empty cans of cheap alcohol and glass bottles of half-empty liquor. It was half past midnight, and although you desperately wanted to sleep, your mind was still plagued with the thoughts of how you were going to break up with the man who was poisoning your life.

You hadn’t even realised that Heeseung sat across from you until you felt him grab the drink can from your hand. He looked over to you disapprovingly, but also worried. 

“Hojung and Sunoo both went to bed, you should too,” he said quietly. His voice was so soft and soothing that it did make you want to fall asleep to the sound of it.

“I don’t think I can.”

Heeseung had heard everything you said, and he was doing a rather good job at hiding just how enraged he was at your scum of a boyfriend. Not to mention how angry he was at the words you said about yourself. It made him want to grab you by the shoulders and tell you in detail just how gorgeous and desirable you were, right after breaking the jaw of the man who made you cry like this.

If it were up to him, you would never cry unless it’s from pleasure from how good he made you feel. 

He snapped out of his crude thought. “Your boyfriend sounds like a real charmer,” he said sarcastically. 

You looked away from him, embarrassed, “So I guess you heard everything?”

“Sorry,” he said all too unapologetic, “I’m not the type to eavesdrop, I swear.”

“It’s fine. I just don’t want you to think I’m pathetic. I swear I’ll break up with him tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all, just misguided. You think way too low of yourself.” His stare made you feel so small. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Y/N.”

Your face heated up like crazy. You finally looked back up into his eyes and Heeseung felt amused at your flustered and shocked face. You were adorable beyond your comprehension. 

“You don’t know how many men would do anything to have you.” Present company included, Heeseung thought. 

You shook your head, chuckling weakly, “You don’t have to say that.”

His eyes went dark now, frustrated at how you didn’t believe him. He leaned over the table to grab your hand. It was comforting and far too gentle for you to have reacted by flinching at the sudden touch. “I mean it, Y/N. You deserve so much better than him,” he lowered his voice and whispered, “You deserve to feel good. A man who can’t pleasure his woman is what’s actually pathetic.”

You had no idea what to say at that, your body going stiff at his insinuating words and the feeling of his thumb rubbing over your hand. 

He smiled tenderly at you, trying to soothe your worries. “I could show you what it feels like to be taken care of.” He leaned closer towards you now, and you felt yourself leaning as well. “Come sit over here,” he patted his lap.

You had no idea what you were thinking when you stood up from your seat and began walking towards him, but you felt him pulling you in. In these months of misery and heartbreak, Heeseung’s comforting presence was magnetic and you couldn’t stop yourself from getting close to him.

You stood in front of him, and he gently held your waist to pull you down to sit over his lap, legs scandalously spread in front of his pelvis. You felt yourself heat up even more, especially the in-between of our legs. You were wearing pyjama shorts and a baggy white shirt, no bra. Heeseung snaked his arms up your back and pushed you even closer so your chest was flush with his. 

You were flustered at the feeling of your tits pressed up against him, and your shorts dampening ever so slightly with your arousal. 

“I bet I could be a better kisser than him,” Heeseung whispered. 

Your faces were so close now that one slight push would have your lips pressed up against each other. “We…We can’t do this Heeseung,” you managed to say.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” He cupped your face, “you’re going to break up with anyways.”

“No, that’s not it,” you bit your lip and reached up, grasping onto his shoulder, “It just feels…I don’t know if Hojung will be happy with me—”

He placed a finger over your mouth, “Shh, enough of that. She doesn’t matter right now, and you do. What is it that you want?”

You leaned into his palm, ever so hypnotised by his stare. You stayed silent, your mind thinking of all the ways this may hurt Hojung. What if she thought of you as betraying her? You’ve always had feelings for him, but what if you succumbed to your desires as just a means of using him to get over your heartbreak? You cared far too much about Heeseung to do that to him. What if he just wanted to use you? 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Heeseung grabbed you tightly by the hips, making you rub your pelvis against his, not helping at all with your wave of arousal. You held back a whimper. “Tell me, gorgeous. What do you want?”

“I want you,” you finally pushed yourself against his lips. It didn’t take long for Heeseung to hold your head and push his tongue inside your mouth. The way he was using his tongue was making you hazy, not being able to suppress your noises any longer. It was rough and passionate. A fiery passion you weren’t used to. 

“Stay quiet, baby. Don’t want to wake anyone up, right?”

You nodded weakly, but you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to keep that promise. His tongue now latched onto your jaw and you clasped your lips together to hold back your whimper. Your squirming made Heeseung’s cock harden and stand up, and you began feeling sensitive to the feeling of his erection pressing up against you. 

It was almost involuntary the way you began grinding against his crotch, and you felt desperate. His lips were now on your neck and he grabbed a handful of your ass, steadily pushing you back and forth on his thighs. It made you see stars. 

It was embarrassing how you felt yourself nearing your orgasm just by this. You have been so sexually deprived and neglected it made you sensitive to real and passionate intimacy. It was in the feeling of your clit pressing against the fabric of your panties, and Heeseung’s hand inside your shirt playing and palming at your tits. Your nipples hardened at the pressure.

Fuck, you were going to cum practically untouched.

You quickened your pace, your hips beginning to tire as you started chasing the high.

“Are you going to cum, baby?” Heeseung whispered. You nodded meekly, not being able to speak a word. He gripped your hips, halting your movements. “Why don’t you take off your panties and ride my thigh? It will feel so much better.”

Although you were frustrated by having your pleasure taken away from you, you stood up on unbalanced legs in front of him once more. He put two fingers into the hem of your shorts and pulled you towards him. He leaned his head towards your leg and began placing kisses on your thigh as you felt your shorts slide down your legs and eventually pool on the floor.

“You’re fucking drenched,” you felt him place his fingers on the wet spot on your panties and whimpered at the feeling. “Have you ever been eaten out?”

You shook your head. Your boyfriend was the first sexual relationship you had, and he never seemed to be interested in making you feel pleasurable. You weren’t even sure if he knew how to.

“Bastard,” Heeseung murmured under his breath. He was utterly furious at how your boyfriend had practically been using you for his own pleasure like you were some object. He discarded your panties and pulled you back on his thigh.

Your clit came into contact with his thigh. He rocked you back and forth and your mind short-circuited at the friction of his jeans and your sensitive clit. You pressed your lips into his shoulders trying to muffle your moans, not trusting yourself to keep it in.

Heeseung was in bliss seeing you like this, desperate and beautiful and in utter pleasure. He felt his jeans get dampened from where your cunt was drooling on them. 

Because you were already so hot and stimulated, it didn’t take long for you to feel it. The feeling was almost foreign to you since it’s been so long since you’ve pleasured yourself. You were going to cum on his thigh. 

“I-I think…I’m close,” you whined.

“I know, baby,” he cupped the back of your head gently, “cum for me.”

You rolled your eyes back as you felt your orgasm wash over you. You felt it everywhere in your body. You wrapped your arms tightly around Heeseung’s torso, almost like you’d fly away if you weren’t anchored to him. He kept slowly pushing you on his thigh, gently helping you come down from your high.

“Thank you, Heeseung,” you said after you had time to calm down.

“Don’t thank me. Not yet,” he chuckled. You were confused until you felt yourself rise as he picked you up and began walking towards his bedroom.

He laid you gently on his bed and leaned down to press his lips on your forehead. You were prepared for him to fuck you some more, and as much as you were tired, a major part of you was excited at the thought of him wearing you out for the night. You were surprised when he stood back up and grabbed your phone out of his pocket. You had no idea how you got that.

“Open it,” he demanded. You did so, feeling upset at yourself for being so unquestioning and submissive. You couldn’t help yourself though as you had the utmost trust towards Heeseung. 

He went through your contacts and found the man he was looking for. His name on your phone was followed by a sparkly pink heart after it. It made him want to gag. He pressed the call button, surprised at how quickly the man picked up given how late it was into the night. “Babe?” came out of the other line.

He put it on speaker and handed you the phone. You were immensely afraid to take it, still hesitant about your ability to leave this dead relationship. “Tell him. Tell him now or I will,” he whispered spitefully. He wanted to watch you dump that pathetic excuse of a man before he let himself have you fully. 

He couldn’t give a fuck about how the other man felt about his girlfriend cheating on him, but he knew you needed to get this over with. He wanted you to forget your boyfriend and focus solely on him as he took you.

“Y/N, what do you want?” the voice on the phone came out harsh as he was getting annoyed at your silence, making Heeseung clench his fists. How dare he speak to you like that, he thought.

“H-Hi…I called because I wanted to tell you something,” you said gently. Heeseung was sure he did not deserve to hear your soft voice. 

“Okay? Well hurry the hell up, I want to sleep.” Heeseung felt himself holding back from becoming violent.

“I think…I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

“Do what? What are you talking about?”

“I…,” your eyes trailed towards Heeseung, looking for help. He held your hand to help comfort you, but he wasn’t about to break up with your boyfriend for you so he gave you a stern look to continue what you were saying. You decided to rip the bandaid and said, “I think we should break up.”

There was a silence on the other line until your boyfriend—now ex—began raising his voice and cursing at you, “You’re not fucking serious, Y/N. Is this seriously why you called me in the middle of the night? I mean, what the fuck?” You noticed Heeseung clench his jaw. “Go ahead, leave me. You’re just going to come crawling back when you can’t find someone who can put up with how boring you are. Honestly, you are suck a fucking bitch, too scared to—,” Heeseung grabbed the phone out of your hand.

There were tears welling up in your eyes, but you were trying your absolute best not to cry over this prick. You already embarrassed yourself enough. 

Heeseung knew he couldn’t yell in fear of waking up the others in the apartment, so he said as quietly as he could, “Listen here you fucking cunt. Speak to her like that again and I will rip your throat out with my bare hands, do you understand?”

“Who the fuck are you?” the man on the line spat, but you could hear the slight fear in his voice. Your ex has never been a particularly confident man around men who intimidated him. Heeseung’s strong presence was clearly making him feel inferior, even if it was through the phone.

“I said do you understand? Never call this number again. In fact, don’t step or look or breathe anywhere near her, asshole.”

“Are you fucking—,” Heeseung ended the call and blocked his number for good measure. 

Heeseung leaned down and pressed his forehead against your forehead, “How do you feel?”

Instead of responding you grabbed him by his shirt and pulled his lips on yours. You felt like your body would not function unless he was on you. You didn’t want Heeseung to think you were upset over leaving your boyfriend, because you weren’t. You couldn’t give a fuck about him anymore, but fuck were you embarrassed by your cowardly attitude.

You may have been too weak to take action against your now ex-boyfriend, but you mustered up all of your strength to show Heeseung how much you wanted him, and solely him. 

He grabbed your waist and pushed your back on the mattress. You were moaning into each other’s mouths. It was hot and desperate. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, one hand pinning your wrists above you, the other descending down to your waist and grinding into you. You moved your hips up to meet his, trying to satisfy your craving for getting him inside you. 

He kissed you one more time before trailing his mouth down your throat, eliciting louder moans out of you. “Please,” you begged. You moved your hands to try to take off his shirt, forgetting he had them restrained. 

Heeseung let go of your hands, but instead of undressing himself, he peeled off your white shirt, leaving your bare breasts on display for him. He couldn’t hold himself back from moaning, gripping one with his hands and wrapping his lips around the other. It was practically impossible to keep quiet at the feeling of his mouth flicking and sucking on your sensitive bud. 

You felt his fingers yet again, but this time on your bare cunt, making you flinch in sensitivity. “Heeseung…,” you said breathlessly.

“Baby, you’re drenched,” his eyes were like a predator before it was about to devour its prey. He moved down the bed, placing your legs over his shoulders, thighs resting comfortably on his shoulders. He began lapping at your hole, and it felt like this was all that he was made to do. He was meant to pleasure you and now that he has been given the chance, he won’t be able to live without the feeling of your arousal on his tongue.

He licked up all your juices and then moved up to begin sucking on your clit. You accidentally yelped, despite your desperate effort to stay quiet. Heeseung chuckled, and looked up at you, “Baby, I told you to stay quiet. Or would you rather I shove your face into the mattress and take you from behind?”

You clenched at the thought, not entirely sure if you would mind. It didn’t get past him how positively you reacted to his threat. “Next time,” he murmured before continuing the devouring of your cunt. 

Your hand was tightly pressed over your mouth as you felt yourself cum on his tongue, your body shaking as you began to take in the feeling of overstimulation. You don’t remember a time in your life when you’ve had more than one orgasm in a single night. Heeseung climbed up once more and placed a kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You taste incredible,” he groaned, making your face heat up in flames. You couldn’t believe he could say such intimate and coarse things so calmly. He began kissing your neck again, surely leaving a mark for tomorrow. That’s something your future self would have to worry about. 

He slid off his jeans and groaned as you reached down to cup his cock with your hand, mind going haywire at how massive it felt. You were nervous now to take it in your cunt, but he removed your hand and thrust himself inside you in one quick motion, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

You were both moaning now, your walls blaming around his cock from the pleasure, but partly due to your struggling of trying to take his size. You were still a bit too tight even with the two times he’s already made you cum. He let you slowly adjust to it before increasing his rhythm, pumping his cock more deeply and quickly.

His back was now littered with your scratches from clawing at him. He was pounding into you at a speed that was making it harder to form any thoughts. How could you, when you were having your guts rearranged by the man you’ve been in love with since you were a little girl? You felt his cock throbbing inside your walls, and you knew your climax was coming closer, as well as his.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum baby,” he breathed. He reached down and you felt his fingers playing with your clit, trying to get you to cum at the same time as you. Even if you tried your best to stay as quiet as possible, the sounds of the bed creaking were not going to fool anyone who was awake at this time. 

“Cum inside me, p-please,” you managed to say in between whines. He didn’t object, and you felt your insides become hot as his seed spread inside you, coating your walls. At the same time, you clamped around his cock as you came with him. You gripped tightly at his back, needing him as close to you as humanly possible. 

Heeseung stayed still as he waited for you to calm down, running his hands up and down your waist to help warm you and stop your shaking. He pressed his forehead against yours. It was just you and him in this world, breathing slowly to each other’s rhythm. 

He knew you were exhausted, so he wasn’t about to bring it up now so as to not overwhelm you, but you were his now. You were now forever belonging to him. There is only one thing that will let him live a fulfilling life and it’s to keep you in his life, happy and protected.

While you were sound asleep, you didn’t even notice your phone vibrating throughout your sound slumber.

LEE HOJUNG [09:27]: i’m guessing you’re still asleep but…seriously girl. i’m glad you’re moving on from that garbage bin of a human (please please please tell me u broke up with him) but did you seriously have to do it with my OWN BROTHER????

LEE HOJUNG [09:27]: i’ll kill him if he hurts you i hope you know that.

LEE HOJUNG [09:28]: are you guys together now or smth?

LEE HOJUNG [09:28]: he’s never allowed back here again don’t argue with me istfg

LEE HOJUNG [09:28]: UGH…YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING 🤮🤮 WAKE UP ALREADY SO I CAN BEAT YOUR ASSES 

KIM SUNOO [10:03]: Yeah…I’m not shocked in the slightest. 

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader?(no age gap). He saw that someone was flirting with her and she was oblivious to it. Then, he swoops in to ‘save’ her from a bad flirt when in reality they were just jealous. He also feels insecure about his age and to make him feel better, she reveals that she had a surprise for him. You decide what it was. Just something fluff and romantic. Tag me later!! Thanks :)))

You make me feel so …. I don’t know the word in English! -McLaren Fernando Alonso x ObliviousWife! Reader

Plot: Marrying Fernando Alonso was the best decision you ever made, you loved how manly and protective he was with you. However, recently he’s been getting jealous of the other men of the grid and how they treat you.

Fernando Alonso had been your husband for many years. You were sort of childhood sweethearts who married young on a whim and stuck together through it all.

You were able to travel the world with the person, later to be people you loved most. However recently you had a glow about it, maybe it was the fact that you were 1 month pregnant not to the knowledge of Fernando and not yet showing but just had that dewy, glowing skin that made you look radiant.

Everyone in the paddock took notice of this change, not that they couldn’t appreciate your attractiveness before, but now it just made them swoon anytime you breezed into the garage in one of your pretty sun dresses.

Today was no different, it was a beautiful sunny day in Mexico, and you were handing out water and fruit for the mechanics and engineers hard at work on your husbands car. You knew them all by name, you made sure you did, so greeting them was never an issue.

However, nobody told you of the rookie employee that had joined them for Mexico in McLaren garage. You immediately started to introduce yourself to the man, talking to him about what he was doing to the car and asking when he had joined them.

Unknown to you, the mechanic was smitten with you and everything you were telling him about your life. He was listening to every word you were telling him, and that was the effect you had on a lot of people.

“So are you, I dunno coming to the team dinner tonight?” He asks scratching the back of his neck and your about to answer with an animated yes until you feel a hand snake round your waist and pull you closer to them.

You look up and see your husband making you smile and pull him into a gentle kiss.

“Mmm my wife will be attending the dinner” Fernando says, you can’t tell but it’s said with a grit in his teeth and a sharp foxy look in his eyes that tells him to back off.

Fernando was used to you getting male attention, but lately it was constant and you didn’t even know it was happening, you were just so oblivious and he hated that you didn’t realise all these people were flirting with you.

And that mechanic wasn’t even the last of it.

Maybe it was something in the Mexican air, but even Fernando couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you over the weekend, especially after your run in with Lewis, and your old friend Jenson.

When Lewis come up to you, you had a big grin on your face.

“Hey darling. How are you?” He asked kissing either side of your cheeks looking over you with those eyes that would draw any woman in, but you. You had no idea those flirty eyes were intended that way. You just saw the kind chocolate brown and assumed the sparkle and glint in there was happiness to see you.

“I’m really good Lew! Just getting to that point of the day where I’m so exhausted, not all of us are young athletes that look 10 year more youthful than they are” you joked to him making him laugh.

“Mmm you definitely don’t struggle in that department” he says looking over you and you beam at him.

“It’s just so warm, do you recon you can help me take my jacket off? I’m not sure where Fernando is, and the buttons always get caught in my hair” you ask, looking round quickly to see if you can in fact bother your husband with the minor inconvenience at hand.

“Of course, turn around for me” he instructs before pulling your hair back and carefully peeling the tight jacket from your body, now showing off the full look of the sundress you were wearing and how it clung to your most valuable assets in the best ways.

“New dress” Lewis asks observing it making you nod.

“Mmmm, I love getting to wear these kinds of dresses in this heat, they make me feel very pretty” you smile as you shove your hands into the pockets of your dress that when you first got it you couldn’t stop telling Fernando about them, before doing a little spin for Lewis, showing of the small slit in the dress.

Fernando came over the minute he saw the look on Lewis face, who was holding your jacket as he spoke to you.

“Lewis” Fernando faked a smile at the fellow driver, once again wrapping his arms around you so you were in front of him with a tight grip and nowhere to go.

“Hello Fernando” Lewis smiles coyly with a slight smirk. The two make idle conversation before Fernandos dragging you away trying to lightly ask you to stay out in the garage and don’t stray away.

But once he was in the car, you found yourself needing the toilet (Curse the start of your baby sitting on your bladder) and another drink due to the high temperatures Mexico was experiencing that day.

There you found Jenson who was just finishing up with an interview before his eyes landed on you.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N Alonso, looking as beautiful as ever” he grins and you pull him into a hug.

You’d known Jenson for pretty much your whole life being childhood friends from Primary school in the UK. You met Fernando when you went to university in Spain, you always joked that you would have still met someone even if it was later in life because Jenson would have likely introduced you.

So when Fernando saw you and him jokingly messing around with one another his face was like thunder.

Jenson could immediately tell and said a quick goodbye to you not wanting to be at the brunt of the Spaniards anger.

“Fernando baby, what’s the matter?” You ask, coming close to him and trying to thread your fingers through his but he shoves your hand away lightly.

“When will you see it?” He demands and you cock your head to the side, not understanding what he meant, making him groan at how cute you looked.

“See what mi amor?” You ask, using Spanish to see if he’d be calmer.

“You don’t see all these BOYS flirting with you and trying to win you over and you don’t see how it affects me and upsets me! And you make me so mad when you entertain it’s and and I don’t know the world in English because I don’t even think there is a word to describe it!” He exclaims all at once making you step back.

He was really really hurt by all this… and you hadn’t been able to see it.

“Have you ever thought that I don’t notice it because I only have eyes for you?” You ask softly, taking his hand happy and satisfied he lets you this time.

“I know I know, I just think… all of these men coming up to you … they are younger than us and it just makes me think they could give you more than I can” he sighs and looks at you with those little puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t you dare say that!” You exclaim almost offended. He had in fact brought your age into it aswell!

“How dare you say that they could give me more than you can, when you damn well know you’ve given me everything!” You say raising your voice.

“Fernando, I love you, and only you! How can you not see that!” You ask.

“I do see it, I just someone feel insecure and I worry that we are too late to experience certain things and its all my fault coz I put it off because of my career!” He explains and your head cocks to the side once again, wondering what he feels like he’s too late to experience.

“What, what do you think we’ve left too late?” You question.

“Kids, travelling the world without my career being there … I dunno I just had a different timeline for us when we first met” he sighs rubbing his temple before pulling you closer to him and resting his head in the crook of you neck as he takes in your sent.

“Baby, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I was going to wait for after the race so we could tell your parents too but I think this will cheer you up a little … and stop you from worrying about me running over with your colleagues” you joke and he sighs with a light smile pulling back to look over you.

“What is it mi amor?” He asks looking over you. You take his hand and place it on your still pretty flat stomach.

“You can cross a kid of your timeline” you say nervously with a small gulp worried for his reaction.

“Are you being serious?” He asks with a huge grin and he feels around you more to see if there is a more obvious sign.

“Yeah, i only found out before the flight out here” you nod smiling at him and he lifts you up, being as careful as possible with you as he pulls you into a hug.

“I love you so so much! I’m sorry I get so jealous of you, but you can’t blame me when I’m married to such a beautiful woman. Thank you for everything” he smiles pulling you into a light kiss.

Fernando couldn’t be more content with his life right now.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[afterglowsainz]

fresh out the slammer | max verstappen

summary: after you broke up with your boyfriend, you join your friends for a night out in monaco and decide it's a good idea to invite max

warnings: fluff, mentions of breakups, drinking

word count: 1.8k

a/n: giggling and kicking my feet at the thought of a situationship with max

the tortured athletes department series

it’s been one month since you and your ex-boyfriend of one year broke up. you couldn’t say you were heartbroken because you really weren’t, like most men do at some points in their lives, he was disappointing you long before you broke up with him, so in a way, you mourn your relationship while you were still in it. now you just felt a bit lonelier than before, but you had definitely moved on.

on a saturday night, you had a few friends over to your monaco apartment for dinner and a very well deserved gossip session. you told them all about your breakup with your most recent boyfriend and how you were feeling almost too good.

“guys, what if we go out?” one of your best friends suggests. “a friend of mine is having a party at this club downtown and is supposed to be this very exclusive thing.” you thought about it for a few seconds after agreeing. it has been a while since you went out with your friends, especially in monaco where everything can happen. you got ready in less than ten minutes since you already were put together and joined your friends in the car on your way to the club. 

during the quick ride you check your instagram and saw that your friend max posted a story. you and max have had this weird relationship for years, were you’re both really close friends who’ve also liked each other forever, but none of you had actually made a move on each other (except for that one time, but you’ve never talked about it). you clicked on his profile picture and the story popped up, a picture of him and his friends playing fifa on his couch. you smiled and liked the photo, putting your phone away.

once you got to the club your friend led you all to the entrance and when she gave her name to the bouncer they let you all in. the place was completely packed, but she took you all to a place on the top that was a bit less full and looked more like that exclusive event your friend was talking about. soon enough, alcohol was running through your system and your body was moving along with the blasting music at the club when a thought almost made you stop on your tracks. you looked for your best friend all over the place and ran over to her when you saw her near the bar.

“hey.” you call out loudly over the music.

“hey.” she smiled at you. “having fun?” she asks and you nod.

“can i tell you this idea i just had?” she takes a sip from her drink and nods. “would it be a good idea if i invited max?” her eyes widen with surprise and gives you a knowing smile.

“max like max verstappen?” she asks. “like your max?” you nod again, this time more euphorically.

“yes, my max.” you took a sip of your drink and cleared your throat. “he’s in monaco, so why not? the worst that can happen is he says no.” you shrug, like the idea of him not wanting to see you didn’t kill you a bit inside.

“go for it!” she exclaims. “absolutely, yes, invite him over.”

you smiled and headed over to the balcony, relieved to feel the cold air of the monaco night hit your skin, cooling you down. you took out your phone and hover over max’s contact for a moment, wondering if you should text or call first. you decided to call since that would be much more immediate. you listen to the phone ringing for a few moments and when you thought it would send you to voicemail, you heard max’s familiar voice.

“hello.” he answers.

“heyyy.” you greet him with a smile that he couldn’t see.

“y/n.” he calls your name with happiness. “how are you?”

“i’m good, how are you?” you ask. “what are you up to?”

“oh, i’m good, yeah.” he says. “just hanging out with some friends. you?”

“i’m in monaco.” you say looking at the stars. “actually, i’m at this club, i was wondering if you wanted to come? you can bring your friends, my friends are here too.”

you waited for him to answer so long you thought the line had dropped.

“what club are you in?” you gave him the name and heard some loud voices in the background. “okay, we’ll be there in twenty.”

you smiled at the sky and bit your lip.

“okay.” you answered and finished the call.

when you got back inside you met your friends again and let them know that max was coming with his friends. twenty minutes later, you were still dancing in the middle of the place when someone tapped your shoulder with tenderness. when you turned around you saw those blue eyes that you loved staring back at you.

“hello, you.” you smiled at him and he returned it.

“long time no see.” he said, giving you a small kiss on the cheek. you felt yourself flustered and were grateful that the place was mostly dark with a few colored lights.

“you should’ve told me when you got here, i would’ve gone outside to get you.” you frowned, ignoring the blush on your face.

“i wanted it to be a surprise.” he defends himself. 

“it can’t be a surprise if i invited you.” you fought back and he placed his arm around your shoulders.

“you know what i mean.” he clicked his tongue, teasing you.

you spent the next hour dancing, drinking and talking with max. it was like the world around you had disappeared and it was only the two of you left in that club. when you took a quick break from dancing he got close to you and whispered in your ear.

“do you want to go outside?” he asks. you felt yourself blush again but nodded.

he was about to guide you to the balcony but you redirected him to the exit of the club. you stopped briefly to let your friend know that you were leaving with max for a moment so she wouldn’t worry and she just winked at you. you took his hand so you wouldn’t lose him while walking through all the people at the club and once you were outside you dropped his hand, even though you didn’t really wanted to, but the last thing you wanted was to make it uncomfortable for him.

“you wanna take a walk?” he asks while taking his jacket and putting it around your shoulders.

you nod and smile at him, grateful for his jacket. you both start walking along the streets, talking about nothing in particular until he makes the question you knew he wanted to ask all night.

“how’s it going with your boyfriend?” he doesn’t look at you while asking, no matter how much you wanted him to do so.

“we broke up.” you answer dryly.

“oh.” he finally looks at your face for any hint of sadness, but there is none. you’re not sad about it.

“how’s it going with your girlfriend?” you ask now, remembering the gorgeous redhead he was dating a few months ago.

it was on one of those few occasions both of you were in monaco at the same time. you were leaving from café de paris with your best friend and you crossed him at the entrance, next to him was one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen, holding his hand. you remembered she introduced herself as his girlfriend and your heart skipped a beat at the word, even though you had no right to feel anything like that since you had a boyfriend yourself. you said your goodbyes and he did too and that was the last time you saw him.

“what was her name again?” you asked. “i can’t remember.”

“we broke up.” max ignored your last question, answering the first one you asked instead.

“oh.” you frowned, sad for him for whatever reason. maybe it was the alcohol in you bringing out all the emotions. “what happened?”

“it just didn’t work out.” he answers simply, giving you a reassuring smile.

“when did you break up?” you knew you were a bit out of line meddling into his relationship. especially when he didn’t ask you these types of questions about your own breakup, but you couldn’t help it.

“a few months ago.” he said, completely unfazed by your curiosity. “actually, it was the day you met her.”

“at the café de paris?” you questioned with surprise and he nodded. “why would you break up with your girlfriend there? it’s such a lovely place.”

he wanted to laugh at your remark, but bit his lip instead.

“i saw you.” he whispered and you felt like all the air was leaving your lungs.

“you broke up with your girlfriend because you saw me?” you ask incredulously and he nods again. “why would you do that?”

“why do you think, y/n?”

he holds your eyes for a few seconds until you turn your head and continue walking. you didn’t answer him and he didn’t say anything else, his words hanging in the air while you got wrapped into a comfortable silence. you were trying to process his train of thought while also processing yours. could his words have such an impact on you? did he feel about you the same way you’ve always felt about him? would he want to try something with you? with each question you asked in your head, you felt yourself leaning more and more into max until the back of your hands brushed each other while walking. he felt so familiar in so many ways.

before you could realize it, you were both outside of your apartment building. did you really walk this much?

“well.” he said, breaking the silence. “i guess this is where i leave you.” he pointed with his chin at the building.

you looked at him for a few seconds, your mind racing ten thousand miles per hour.

“you could stay.” you whisper.

max looked at you, a sparkle in his eyes you knew too well.

“you’re drunk.” he murmured, just like you had. you shook your head and got closer to him, touching the collar of his shirt gently.

“just as much as you.” you were so close you could see every speck of color in his eyes. “i think the walk here sober me up, anyway.” you joke, taking your eyes off of him, fearing that looking at him a second longer would make you do something unexpected.

“are you sure about this?” he took your face between his hands, forcing you to look at him. the beautiful blue of his eyes was now much darker and you fell a little bit more in love just by looking at them.

“of course i’m sure.” your voice low, only for him to hear. “i’ve always been.”

his eyes went from your eyes to your lips, and then back into your eyes.

“come inside.” you ask.

he smiles at you like he just won a championship, taking your hand and pulling you into the building.

[lucyrose191]

hey i had an idea and i love your seb x reader writing so i wanted to send this to you! driver! reader has a really big accident during a race like shes in a coma for some time seb becomes this completely closed off person but he visits you everyday so one day he comes to the hospital ig and readers heart stopped or something but then she comes back to life and wakes up or she dies idk if they have kids but would be nice if they’re married. idk i leave it up to you just give me some angst pls 🙏🙏🙏

COME BACK TO ME| S.VETTEL

Pairing; Sebastian Vettel x Wife!driver!reader

Summary; Sebastian’s world is turned upside down when he finds out the reason behind the red flag, the aftermath is just as torturous as the moment he got the news.

Warnings; Serious crash (a bit like Jules Bianchi’s), angst, coma, severe injuries, Sebastian’s sad :( Also Kimi and Seb bickering like children.

F1 Master List

It was no secret that Formula One was a dangerous sport, the fans knew it, the FIA knew it and the drivers knew it; but there are decisions that need to be made in order to protect the drivers because their safety should be the number one concern.

So when the FIA decided that that the weather in Suzuka wasn’t severe enough to postpone or cancel the race, pretty much every driver was against getting back on the track, there had already been a crash and to continue was just plain stupid.

Y/N knew that everyone, including the drivers, had their eyes on her. She had won the last few seasons and was the one to beat.

She never had a problem driving in the rain, in fact most of the time it added to the thrill of the race but when you could hardly even see the steering wheel you were holding, it wasn’t fun, it was scary.

She didn’t really know what had happened, she was battling Max Verstappen who had been recently promoted to RedBull; she’s been enjoying the challenge the younger driver is offering her but there were times that she didn’t agree with his decisions, they could be extremely risky and not in a good way, in a way that could cause some serious damage to either him or someone else and it seemed that this time was one of those times that his risks had consequences.

She had been ahead of him when she felt the contact that had been made to the back of her car, it wasn’t light at all, it sent her spinning completely off the track and with the slippery track and the rain continuing to pour she could not stop the car no matter how hard she tried to gain control.

She heard the gasps of the crowd as her car flipped and spun but it faded away as she tried to keep herself from moving about too much in her car; wondering how long it would take for her to stop.

Y/N did stop, eventually, but the moment she felt the contact she knew something was wrong. It felt like she had hit a brick wall, she heard the crumpling of the car’s structure before a pain like no other filled her entire body; her head throbbed and her eyes fluttered closed, her body shrouded by the remains of her car and the heavy rain.

"Red flag, Sebastian, you’re heading into the pits," Riccardo spoke over the radio.

"Fuck sake! I told you guys we shouldn’t have been sent back out here, what happened?" To say he was angry was an understatement, for the FIA to risk the lives of every driver on this track was ridiculous and quite frankly plain stupid.

"What happened, who was it?" He asked again when he wasn’t given an answer, pulling into the pits behind the two Redbulls.

"There’s been a crash, no response," Riccardo vaguely replied.

Sebastian sighed in frustration at the lack of information and detached his steering wheel, pulling himself out of the car, he didn’t even have time to pull his helmet off before Max was walking up to him and grabbing his arms.

"Seb I’m so sorry, I lost my grip and I couldn’t control it and we just collided-"

Sebastian shook his head, cutting Max off. "What are you talking about, what happened?"

Max simply stared at Seb for a moment, guilt filling his entire body as he realised Sebastian had absolutely no idea. "Seb, it’s Y/N…."

It was as thought the world had stopped turning, Max’s voice had faded away along with the sound of the crowds and everything else around him, the only thing he heard were his racing thoughts as he remembered Riccardo’s words.

No response

No response

No response

He looked up at the big screen that was showing the wreckage live, his heart dropped, the car was completely crushed and she was still in it.

He saw as a few of the Marshalls looked towards the ground briefly before looking into the direction of the camera as they all started making the same gesture, not even a minute later the screen was shut off so that no one could see what was happening.

Sebastian didn’t register his feet moving or the drop of Max’s hand from his shoulder but the next moment he was storming into the Mercedes garage demanding for some sort of information.

If it was any other driver entering their garage without permission they would’ve been immediately kicked out but knowing that Sebastian was here for no other reason that to know if his wife was okay they didn’t mention the red race suit that stood out against everyone else’s black and white uniform.

Seeing that Sebastian was simply stood there, seemingly not knowing what to do, Toto walked over to him and directed him away from his team so that they could talk.

"There was no response over the radio so we can assume that she’s unconscious, she went into that barrier at an incredible speed and the from the damage we can see there’s no way she isn’t injured in some way so she’s going to be airlifted to the nearest hospital, okay?" He spoke in a low voice so that no one could hear besides the two of them.

Sebastian made no indication that he had registered Toto’s words but he did swallow thickly before simply walking away and making his way into his own garage; he didn’t speak to anyone, instead heading straight to his drivers room.

He has taken the quickest shower of his life and changed into regular clothes, he had no intention of getting back into that car this weekend and if anyone expected him to then they were delusional.

As soon as he walked through the doors of the hospital he was approached by an older looking nurse that seemed to have been waiting for him and he could tell by the look on her face that he wasn’t going to hear anything good.

She gestured him to follow her; she lead him into an empty hospital room and gestured for him to sit down on one of the two chairs that were underneath the window, she took the other.

"Mr Vettel, I’m going to be straight with you because I wouldn’t want anyone to beat around the bush if I was in your position. The speed and force at which your wife crashed into barrier quite frankly should have killed her so bear that in mind when I go over her injuries with you because they might sound bad but for what happened I’d say she got out lucky."

Her words cut through Sebastian like a knife, tearing into his skin to leave him vulnerable to whatever she has to say next. Though, he’s grateful she’s telling him how it is instead of sugar coating the severity of everything just so that he’s not uncomfortable, he wants to understand and be aware of what exactly has happened so he gulped and nodded for her to continue.

She didn’t look at him sympathetically which he was thankful for but her expression was comforting. "The impact shattered Mrs Vettel’s tibia and fibula in her right leg, three of her ribs were also broken and a few of them are bruised, during the crash something must have made contact with your wife’s head because when we were cutting the helmet off the back of it was already broken through and it’s caused her some severe trauma to her head."

It was as though Sebastian felt the pain with each injury that was listed, the nurse was explaining it precise and slow so that he could probably understand it but there was really only one thing he wanted to know. "Is my wife going to be okay?"

This time the nurse did look at him sympathetically as she saw the pure worry in his eyes, she could see the love he felt for the Mercedes driver and the pain that this was causing him.

"Your wife is in surgery right now to fix both bones in her leg and suture up the injury on her scalp, her ribs should heal by themselves in at least six weeks but will most likely be longer, the thing we’re most worried about however is when she’s going to wake up. Whilst the knock on her head hasn’t caused any internal bleeding, we do think that’s the reason she was unconscious and not the crash itself."

Sebastian’s blood went cold at her words, "So-what, she’s in a coma?"

The woman nodded in confirmation. "Yes, it’s hard to determine when a person in a coma is going to wake up because each person is different when they’re in a position like this and I’m aware of how difficult this is for you to hear but whilst she’s in this state, it’s really the best time for her injuries to heal and hopefully she’ll wake after the worst of the pain has passed."

"How long do you think she’ll be in the coma for?"

"It varies from person to person but I’d say anywhere between a few weeks to a few months."

Sebastian nodded his head, glancing down to his lap where he was fiddling with his wedding ring. "Thank you." He simply muttered to the nurse who took that as her cue to leave.

"Mrs Vettel will be brought here after her surgery is complete, you’re welcome to wait until then or if you wish to go and come back after they’re finished we can give you a call if-"

"I’ll wait," Sebastian interrupted her and she nodded before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

Sebastian sighed heavily into the silence of the room, placing his head in his hands; now that he was alone the strong front he had put up had disappeared, before he could stop it his eyes were watering and silent tears were falling into his hands.

He didn’t know how long he sat like that before he heard the doors to the room open and a bed was wheeled in by four or five doctors, once the bed was locked in the middle of the room all of them left but one.

The man was probably in his forties but he seemed kind enough as he regarded Sebastian. "You must be Mr Vettel?"

Sebastian hastily wiped his eyes before rubbing his hands on his legs, nodding his head.

The doctor smiled before speaking. "The surgery went well, both bones in your wife’s leg have been reconstructed but those pins will have to stay there for a month or two and afterwards she’ll need physical therapy to regain her strength back and the cut to her head has been sutured up with no issues. A nurse will come by tonight to check her vitals and ensure everything is okay, they usually do checkups every 6-8 hours but if you need something then feel free to press the button."

"I will, thank you." Sebastian smiled weakly.

"As you are her husband you can come and go as you like, you are more than welcome to have someone come and take your place when you want to go and shower or rest. If anyone wishes to come and visit then visiting hours are between 8am and 8pm, after that we only permit one person to stay."

The doctor left shortly after and after taking a deep breath Sebastian got up from his seat beneath the window and made his way to the bed.

The sight of her made him want to burst into tears all over again, she had cuts and bruises all over her face and arms, her right left was resting on a pillow but trapped inside a metal brace that was attached to the pins inside her leg, her head was bandaged to protect the stitches on from the pillow she was laying on.

She looked lifeless and the sight of it pretty much tore him in two.

He didn’t know what to do, he was here alone and the love of his life almost died.

He carefully leaned against the edge of the bed, making sure he didn’t budge anything he shouldn’t before carefully grabbing her left hand, it was bare of any rings and Sebastian hoped that they were in her driver’s room somewhere and not lost because she was so protective over them rings and would be pissed if they were lost.

He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

It was way too silent in here, he hated it.

He leaned his body forward and pressed his face into the pillow, being mindful that he wasn’t hurting her even if she was unconscious and most likely wouldn’t feel it.

"Please come back to me, Liebling. I need you so much."

Sebastian didn’t leave the hospital that night, he had dragged the chair across the room so he could spend the night beside his wife, he hardly slept instead choosing to sit and simply watch as she ‘slept’ hoping that if he stayed awake long enough then eventually she would wake up.

She didn’t.

He had countless messages from family and drivers but he didn’t answer them, he knew not answering her family was selfish but he found that he really only cared about Y/N and no one else, that and he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

He messaged her and his parents this morning explaining what the doctors had told him yesterday but had left the other messages unread.

Not once had he let go of her hand, not when the nurses came in every couple of hours to do their checkups or when they brought him something to drink or eat, most of which went untouched.

He couldn’t explain the heartache he was feeling, to have the person you love the most in the world be in such a vulnerable position was heart wrenching, especially when it was your job and vow to protect them.

He couldn’t have stopped that crash but he will make sure he is around for every step of her recovery process.

Sebastian was thankful that there wasn’t a race this week because there was no way he was leaving her in the hospital alone to get in the car, he wasn’t in the right mindset anyways.

It seemed silly that he was also thankful that there was only four races left and Y/N had already won the championship otherwise he would’ve been devastated for her.

A knock at the door tore him away from his thoughts and he assumed that it was a nurse but was proved wrong when Max walked through the door with flowers in his hand.

Sebastian pursed his lips and looked down, he couldn’t even look at the man knowing that he was the reason his wife was unconscious in the hospital.

He knew it was wrong to blame him because he had no grip and the weather was no help but he was aware of the way the younger lad drove and knew that he took unnecessary risks, risks that could’ve killed the woman he loved.

"Uhm," Max cleared his throat awkwardly. "I messaged to see if it was okay for me to come but I didn’t get an answer and I just needed to see if she was okay."

Sebastian bit his tongue which was hard when everything inside him wanted to turn and shout at the RedBull driver that this was all his fault and he had no right to come here when he was the reason she was here in the first place, and his wife didn’t even like fucking roses so be can shove them up his arse for all Sebastian cared.

"Is she okay?"

Sebastian scoffed at the question, looking up at Max as if questioning his sanity. "Does she look okay?"

Max looked at him guiltily before glancing away, not being able to stand the look of complete despair in the German’s eyes.

"Just leave," Sebastian shook his head. "My wife’s pretty much on her death bed right now because of you and I really don’t need you coming here pretending like you care when we both know that that the only thing you care about when you’re in that car is yourself, not anyone else and certainly not their lives."

Max bit back the retort that’s on the end of his tongue knowing that the man was not in the right place right now so he placed the flowers on the table by the door and took his leave.

Sebastian sighed and tipped his head back to try and stop himself from crying, he needed to stop crying, he hadn’t done anything else in the last 24 hours.

It had been a week and Sebastian had talked to no one, none of the drivers had tried to visit so he assumed that Max had warned them to stay away which he was glad.

He had left the hospital only twice to pack some clothes and essentials for the two of them, Y/N still hadn’t woken up but the bruising on her face and arms was going down and the doctors had said her ribs were healing nicely.

He had never realised how much he had depended on her and needed her until he didn’t have her to depend on.

He loved her so much and felt like he was going insane with her right next to him but not exactly there at the same time.

Shortly after Max had left that day, two nurses had came in with Y/N’s race suit, fireproofs, balaclava, gloves, boots, two halves of her race helmet and her rings.

Sebastian had wasted no time in placing her rings back onto her hand, he didn’t think she looked right without them and knew that if she woke up without them on her hand she wouldn’t be impressed.

He had almost cried again when he picked up both pieces of her helmet and saw the place where she had been stricken on the head, there was a gash that went right through the helmet and a large red stain on her balaclava that would be beneath where the hole on her helmet is.

He had told his and Y/N’s parents that there was no point in flying in to visit until she was awake and they agreed, he also assumed that the teams had all flown back to their headquarters or the next race location so he was here alone.

Quite frankly, Sebastian didn’t know what to do, there was a race in America this week and even though it was the last thing on his mind and the last thing he wanted to do he knew that he had an obligation to be there, he couldn’t just not show up and it seemed like Britta had the same idea as he saw her name pop up on his phone trying to call him, it wasn’t the first time but it seemed like she was unrelenting this time.

"What do you want?" He sighed as he pressed the phone against his ear, running a hand over his face.

"Oh, so you are alive!" Her surprised voice was way too loud in his ear.

"Just tell me what you want, Britta." Sebastian had no time or patience for her teasing or jokes.

"You need to be in America in three days, Sebastian, I understand that you don’t want to see anyone and the last thing you want to do is get in a car but you do have an obligation to be there." She told him sadly.

"I have an obligation to take care of my family, Britta, I couldn’t give a shit about racing."

"You can’t stay in Japan, Seb."

"What do you want me to do, leave her here in a different country by herself?"

"I think you should move her to a facility in Switzerland for starters so that you can at least be near home."

Sebastian stayed silent, he couldn’t argue with that logic, it probably would be better, even for Y/N so that she wouldn’t have to fly when she was awake and recovering.

"I’ll talk to you tomorrow," he told her before hanging up, not allowing her to say anything else.

The next day he had payed to have Y/N transferred to the closest hospital to where they lived in Switzerland and had flown out her parents so that they could stay with her whilst he was in America.

He had put his foot down on missing media day, he’d go Friday, Saturday and leave immediately after the race on Sunday and would call his in laws multiple times a day whilst he was gone, he was not happy about it but it was the best he could do.

They were currently waiting outside of the room whilst Sebastian said his goodbyes to Y/N, he had spoken to her everyday just on the off chance that she could hear everything that was going on around her, the last thing he wanted was for her to have to suffer in silence whilst she was in this position.

He pressed his forehead against hers, which was now bandage free, closing his eyes to relish in the contact that he wouldn’t have for the next couple of days.

"I love you so much, liebe and I’m going to be back as soon as I can. You better not wake up whilst I’m gone otherwise I’m going to be pissed off with you," he chuckled weakly knowing that is something she’d probably do.

He pressed a kiss to her head and one to the back of her hand before reluctantly getting up, grabbing his back and leaving the room, knowing that if he didn’t go now then he never would.

Sebastian knew he was pushing his limits but couldn’t find it in himself to care, it was Friday and he had arrived in America this morning but hadn’t shown up at the track until just ten minutes before FP1 started.

He had been on the phone with his mother in law as soon as he got off the plane and hadn’t hung up until a few hours later but the real reason he had left it so long to head to the track was so that he could avoid most of the cameras as he was walking in, knowing that they’d now mostly be focused on the team garages.

Speaking of teams, Y/N’s seat had been filled in by Esteban Ocon for the rest of the season, the smallest part of Sebastian felt guilty knowing that Toto Wolff had been trying to find out what was going on with his driver but Seb had made sure everything was kept under wraps.

The only people who knew how she was were family, Britta and Y/N’s PR manager, Freya and every single one of them had no intention of spilling any information.

He could feel the eyes on him and hear the muttering as he walked through the paddock, he hadn’t even been here five minutes and he was already getting annoyed by the cameras and how loud it was.

It pissed him off even more when he saw team members from other motorhomes coming out to watch as if he was going to stand there and make a grand statement to let them all know how Y/N was.

He just ignored them and walked into the Ferrari motor home to his drivers room so he could change into his race gear.

He made sure he had his helmet on before he left his room, making a clear statement that he was in no mood to talk to anyone, thankfully the team respected it and let him get straight into the car, just in time for FP1 to start.

It felt wrong, he and Y/N had a small ritual they did before they got into the car, they had done it for years and this would be the first time getting into the car without it.

"Okay, Sebastian, you’re free to leave the garage, just give Mattia a heads up when you’re ready. You’re on mediums for now," Riccardo spoke through his ear piece.

Sebastian didn’t answer but he did nod his head towards a mechanic to let him know he was ready.

He was top of the time sheet for both practises today, he wouldn’t say he had tried to be in that position, he had just channelled his frustration into his driving.

"Sebastian, top of the time sheet today, does that mean the car was feeling well for you?" The woman in front of him asked, holding out her microphone for him.

"It felt fine," he responded, he wasn’t even looking at her, he was too busy thinking about phoning Y/N’s parents when he got out of here.

"You’re back after a week off, did you end up doing anything interesting?" He was aware that the woman was trying to subtly pry information from him about Y/N and it pissed him off so he just scoffed and walked away, knowing Britta was going to have to do a bit of damage control.

"Hey! Seb! Seb!" He heard Lewis call after him but continued walking causing the English driver to have to run to catch up to him, clasping a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder to get him to stop walking.

"Hey, are you alright, mate?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes "I’d be find if everyone stopped asking me that stupid question."

"Alright," Lewis nodded, not one to get offended or hurt at the tone Sebastian used because he understood. "How’s my teammate?"

Seb raised a hand to his forehead in frustration at the question, he could feel himself losing it. "What do you want me to say, Lewis? She’s clearly not fine other wise you would’ve heard something so will you and everyone else just leave me the fuck alone."

He didn’t wait for a reply, instead walking away, hopefully to make that phone call he’s been wanting to make since the last one had ended but just as he was about to shut the door to his driver’s room, a hand caught it.

"For fuck sake, can I not get a moment alone around here!?"

"Don’t start your attitude with me," Kimi grunted and Sebastian sighed, now was not the time for him to deal with Kimi.

"What do you want?"

"I want what everyone else wants."

"Well I hate to break it to you but just because you’re my teammate doesn’t mean I’m telling you how she is."

Kimi rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable on Sebastian’s bed whilst the latter was looking around for his phone.

"That’s not what I was talking about, I’m talking about the mood you’re in, you need to get out of it and get a grip, that’s what Y/N would want, not you walking around and sulking ruining everyone else’s day."

Sebastian shot him a dirty look. "You don’t know what she’d want and neither do I right now because she’s in the hospital, and if anyone has a problem with my attitude I’m perfectly fine with them staying away from me."

Kimi sent him a sarcastic smile, matching his attitude. "Well I have a problem with it cause you took my personality."

"What?"

Kimi sighed and stretched out. "You know how exhausting it is to have to be the happy one out of the two of us, that’s supposed to be your job but since Y/N’s crash, I have to be that person and I’m sick of it."

"Well I’m sorry that my wife’s injuries are such an inconvenience to you," Sebastian rolled his eyes.

Kimi groaned in annoyance, "you are so fucking annoying without her."

"Thanks, I’ll tell Minttu you said that." Sebastian replied sarcastically, now having his phone in his hand.

"Go for it," Kimi shrugged. "When Y/N wakes up I’ll tell her how much of an arsehole you’ve been."

Seb ignored him and pressed his phone to his hear, waiting for his mother in law to pick up for an update.

He had finished P4 in the race that weekend and had gotten straight on a flight back to Switzerland, skipping his post race interviews in the media tent.

He hadn’t even called Y/N’s parents after the race for an update, instead settling for a simple text in the airport when he was boarding the plane; both of them were picking him up from the airport and taking him straight to the hospital, he was strangely looking forward to being able to see her again, even if she was still in a coma.

He was happy that his flight had quite literally flown by and was sitting in the car behind his in laws just twenty minutes after landing.

"How is she?" He immediately asked.

"She’s okay, the doctors have said she’s healing up nicely." Y/N’s dad told him, the news relaxing him a bit.

"Are you guys coming in?" He asked as he held the car door open, surprised when he saw them both shaking their heads.

"We’ll come by tomorrow, you should have some time alone with her."

Sebastian nodded and bid them goodbye, actually happy that they had chosen to do that because after not seeing her for a couple of days, some time alone was what he needed.

He practically ran through the hallways of the hospital, care workers saw him but chose not to reprimand him as they were aware of who he was and how eager he probably was to see his wife.

He exhaled heavily when he got to the closed door of her room, standing there for a few moments to calm down a bit.

When he pushed open the door, he got the shock of his life.

Y/N was lying there in her hospital bed with her leg still resting on a pillow as it had been for the last two weeks but this time, the top of her bed was raised to put her in a sitting position, she had oxygen tubes in her nose but her head was turned towards the door he had just walked through and she was looking at him!

She was clearly very sleepy and tired but her eyes were as open as far as she could hold them and she was looking at him with a sleepy smile on her face.

She blinked slowly at him for a moment as he stared before holding out her hand for him and he took that as his cue to move towards her.

"Hi baby," she mumbled through a smile, not really having the energy to say anything more but it was enough for Sebastian’s eyes to start watering as he collapsed onto the chair that was beside her bed, grasping her hand in his own.

He raised his other to her cheek and softly stroked the skin there, smiling through his tears as he felt her lean into his touch.

"Hi," he breathed in disbelief, "How long have you been awake?" He whispered, fearing if he spoke any louder it would hurt her.

"Before the race, I watched it," she told him as though she was proud of herself was waking up in time to see it.

"Yeah? What did you think?" He humoured her, not really wanting to talk about the race but it seemed to make her happy so he did.

"You did good," she told him, subtly rubbing her thumb across his hand.

Sebastian simply smiled at her, he wiped his face on his arm to get rid of his tears before looking back at her again with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

"I love you so much." He told her surely, as though she may have forgotten whilst she was in the coma.

"Ich liebe dich auch," she replied back softly making him laugh, she always said it in his native language because she thought it would feel more real for him to hear.

"Are you tired?" He asked when he noticed her fighting to keep her eyes open.

Y/N nodded slowly before looking at him. "Come and lay with me," she told him.

Sebastian shook his head softly even though he wanted nothing more than to cuddle with her. "That’s probably not a good idea, liebe."

"When has that ever stopped you?" She pouted but rose an eyebrow at him.

He couldn’t argue with her there so he got up from his seat, protesting when she tried to move and make room for him.

He climbed in next to her and lightly wrapped his arm around her, she scooted closer and carefully adjusted her top hand so that her head was resting against him.

Sebastian rested his head against hers, pressing a kiss into her hair. "Liebe?" He asked, earning a slight hum in return.

"Don’t listen to anything Kimi says, he’s a liar."

"Hm’kay, Seb." She muttered, already pretty much asleep.

"I missed you so much," he muttered against her, carefully tightening the arm he had wrapped around her,

He wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight again.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Can You Feel My Heart - GF!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This was a request I got over a month ago, and the person that asked for it was very detailed in the things they wanted, and I didn't want to give away the entire fic before anyone read it lmao. If you're the one that requested it, I hope you like it! It's definitely a bigger one, 5.9k words🙃

I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You were supposed to die in Tara and Sam's apartment, but you never showed. When he tries to finish the job, he realizes that he can't hurt you, and you help him decided to save the rest of your friends.

Contains: Dryhumping? Oral - m & f receiving, p in v, fingering. Nothing too crazy, Ethan's an inexperienced virgin for the most part in this.

A/N: Deadass want to write something where reader makes Ethan cum in his pants💀

Ethan knew he couldn’t do what his family asked when it came to hurting you, but after hours of Quinn telling Ethan that you’d never want him, and that you would never see him as anything more than a pathetic loser, he’d channeled enough rage towards you to hopefully do the job he was asked to do.

When he popped out of Quinn’s closet that night and killed her flavor of the week, the adrenaline was already pumping through his veins. When he went out to the main area of the apartment, he searched for you. He thought back to the text you sent him about being bummed that he had econ and couldn’t join you and the rest of the friend group, so he knew this was where you were supposed to be. He didn’t let you not being there throw everything off, it just meant Anika had to die before it was originally planned.

He met with his dad before he had to show up at the crime scene and play the roll of the grieving father to explain how everything actually played out.

“She wasn’t there?!” Wayne yelled, as Ethan nodded, his breathing still heavy from all the running to get away from the apartment before anyone had a chance to see him. “Fuck, I thought you had this all planned out!”

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said, “She was supposed to be there. I guess she changed her mind.”

“You’re going to finish the job though, right?” Wayne asked, knowing how much convincing it took to get Ethan to want to kill you in the first place.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it. I know tomorrow’s supposed to be the end of all this, but I have her schedule memorized. I’ll just break into her apartment before she get’s home from class, kill her, and I’ll meet you at the theater,” he said, as Wayne nodded in approval.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

The next day, you went to class. You’d heard about another attack but had no idea it was Anika and Quinn. With you backing out of coming over to Tara and Sam’s last minute before the attacks happened, your friends couldn’t help but wonder if you could’ve been the one that caused her death. You were the last person they’d suspect, but they thought it was a little strange.

Finally, Tara called you when you were walking back home after your morning classes.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t come over last night. I was so tired,” you said, as soon as you answered the phone.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” Tara said. You immediately heard the sadness in her voice.

“Wait, what happened?” you asked, before you heard Mindy yelling at Tara for calling you in the background. “Tara, what’s going on?”

“The killer came to the apartment last night…Quinn and Anika are dead,” she said, as you were walking through your front door.

“Oh my god,” you said, bracing yourself against the doorway as you took in the news she just told you. “Is Mindy okay?” you asked as you started to get emotional. You weren’t the closest to Anika yet, but you were getting there. You loved her sweet yet sarcastic personality, and you’d recently started to get to know her better from the study sessions with her and Ethan.

“No, not really,” Tara sighed, “Were you really home last night? I hate to ask you because I don’t think you’d do anything like this…but you saying you weren’t coming over last minute was a little suspicious.”

You were taken aback by her accusations, and were about to respond, when you heard the beeping that someone else was calling you. You felt annoyed as you saw the unknown number, quickly declining it before you responded to Tara.

“Tara, I promise you I was at home. I was so tired after class yesterday,” you got out, before you started to get another unknown number call, “Fuck, someone keeps calling me. I’ll text you in a little bit. We’ll figure out who’s doing this.”

“Okay, be safe,” she said, before you ended the call and answered whoever kept calling you.

“Hello?” you asked, the irritation in your voice obvious as you heard a chuckle on the other end of the call.

“I thought you were just going to keep ignoring me.”

You immediately recognized the voice. You’d heard it several times before in the Stab movies, and started to think this was some kind of sick prank.

“Who is this?” you asked, walking towards your kitchen, “Because this isn’t funny.”

“Oh, you sweet, dumb thing,” the person responded, a hint of laughter still in their voice. “I think this is hilarious. You’re all alone in your apartment, no one to save you…”

You tensed up as you glanced around the areas of your apartment that you could see from the kitchen, before inching your way towards the drawer that contained the knives.

“Don’t even think about it,” the voice said, the realization that whoever this was could see you in that moment setting in.

“Who the fuck is this?” you asked, your voice a little shaky as your anxiety kicked in.

“Aww, are you scared?” the voice cooed, “Because you should be.”

That’s when you saw the masked figure darting towards you from your bedroom. You tried to make a run for the front door, but Ghostface was hot on your heels. The knife was shoved in your direction in attempts to slow you down, but the knife penetrated the wood of your door. The killer struggled for a few seconds as they tried to get the knife out, giving you the smallest amount of time to get away from them.

You ran to your living room, searching for anything you could use to help you defend yourself, when you noticed that Ghostface had joined you in the room, holding the knife up as they stared at you.

“Why are you doing this?” you cried. Seeing you like this had Ethan feeling so guilty, but Quinn’s words kept replaying in his head. He didn’t say anything as he charged towards you again. You tried to fight him off, but you were quickly overpowered by him.

He threw you to the ground before he straddled your body. You kept trying to fight, refusing to just give up, even though this person was a lot stronger than you. Both of Ghostface’s hands were wrapped around his knife as they held it over their head, your life literally flashing before your eyes as you waited for it all to be over.

Ethan hesitated, though. The fear in your eyes, your tear-soaked cheeks, and the sobs slipping past your lips were something he knew would haunt him if he went through with this.

“I’m so sorry,” you heard, recognizing the voice as the knife was lowered and clanked on the floor beside you. “I can’t do this to you.”

“Ethan?!” you choked out, gaining enough strength to shove him off you. You used your hands and feet to back yourself closer to the wall, pulling yourself up by the windowsill as he sat on the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I don’t know,” he cried, pulling the mask over his head and throwing it in frustration. “I can’t do anything right.”

You eyed him as you stood against the wall, watching him cry. You were so shaken up and furious, but you couldn’t help but wonder how Ethan ended up in this position. He was this shy, sweet person that you enjoyed spending time with, and maybe it was your personal feelings towards him, but you felt bad for him.

You walked over to where the knife was, kicking it to the other side of the room under your tv stand. If he had a change of heart and decided he wanted to kill you, you knew him trying to fish that out would give you enough time to escape.

“What the fuck, Ethan?” you sighed, standing beside him as he still sat in his place on the floor. “Why?”

He just kept crying, so ashamed of himself that he got roped into his dad’s plan in the first place. He felt sick, and not just mentally. He was fighting his nausea as you finally crouched down beside him.

“Talk to me,” you said, as he finally looked up at you. He looked scared, his pupils huge as his chin quivered.

“My family is behind all this,” he said, jumping up off the floor as you hesitantly stood up. “Fuck, they’re gonna kill me.”

You started to get nervous all over again as he paced the floor. His hands were shaking, and you couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or anger, but you stepped as far away from him as you could.

“I don’t even understand why you were a part of this in the first place. You didn’t have anything to do with Richie dying,” he ranted, before pausing for a second, “Are you close to your parents?”

You just stared at him, unsure of what to say. This wasn’t the Ethan you knew, and his erratic behavior had a huge lump in your throat.

“I bet your parents love you. I bet they’d never treat you the way my dad treats me,” he said, after you didn’t answer him. “I bet they never make you feel like you’re worthless.”

“You’re not worthless,” you said softly, his head snapping in your direction. You hesitated before speaking again. “Your family is doing this because of Richie? How is he a part of this?”

Ethan stepped towards you, as you backed even further against the wall. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You shook your head as you looked at him, “You just tried to kill me, Ethan…I’m terrified of you right now.”

“Fuck,” he said, tearing up again. “Richie was my brother. I know you heard the story about Sam stabbing him and slitting his throat,” Ethan paused, you nodded for him to continue, “My dad and sister wanted revenge. I didn’t want to do any of this.”

“Then why did you?” you questioned, as he wiped tears from his cheeks.

“Because my dad told me that it would finally make him proud of me for something…and he said he’d just kill me too if I didn’t help with all this.”

You started to relax against the wall a little as you processed everything. This wasn’t about him wanting to hurt you or anyone else, he just wanted to be loved by the one person that should’ve loved him regardless. He was broken, and even though the voice inside your head kept screaming that you were stupid for wanting to comfort him, your huge heart was breaking for him.

“Ethan,” you said, slowly stepping towards him, “Everything will be okay.”

“No it won’t!” he yelled, making you jump, “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, noticing that he’d scared you again. He started to speak in a softer tone, “My dad is a fucking detective…even if I try to run away from all of this, he’d just find me.”

You stood there in silence for a few seconds as the realization hit you, “Detective Bailey?” you asked, as he nodded.

“Quinn is a part of this, too. She’s my sister.”

“Ethan…Quinn died last night. This isn’t making sense,” you said, as he scoffed.

“She’s not dead…I wish she was, though. I fucking hate her.”

You both stood in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds heard in the room was his heavy breathing and the occasional sob he’d let out…and the pounding in your chest but you were sure only you could hear that.

“I know you probably hate me right now, and I’m so sorry that I scared you like that. You didn’t deserve it,” he finally said, his eyes connecting with yours. “I’d rather my own life be over than take yours.”

“Your life isn’t over,” you said, as he started to awkwardly laugh.

“It is, though. I still helped with this. I’m going to spend the rest of my life in prison.”

“Not if you stop all this. You can still do the right thing,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your suggestion. “I’m the only person that knows…I won’t say anything.”

He looked at you in disbelief, unsure if you were serious or if you just had a really good poker face.

“I do have another question, though,” you said, walking closer towards him, until he was right in front of you. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

You wanted to pull him into a hug. You wanted him to feel like he was cared about. But you really needed to know why he changed his mind last minute before you did anything.

“I uhm…” he said, trailing off as he tried to find the right words to say, “I really like you, You’re just so sweet, and you’re always showing interest in the things I like, even if you don’t understand it. Quinn tried to make me hate you enough to do it, but I couldn’t.”

“So…Quinn tried to convince you to kill me?” you asked, a little confused. You’d spent plenty of time with her at Sam and Tara’s. You now knew that her kindness towards you was all an act, but you didn’t understand why she thought you needed to die.

“Yeah, she knew how I felt about you,” he said, glancing at the floor as his cheeks started to turn a rosy pink. “She said you’d never want to be with me. That doesn’t matter, though. That wasn’t a good enough reason for me to finish the job.”

“Is that all I am to you? A job?” you half-joked, as he started to smile, looking back up at you.

“Not at all.”

You both just stared at each other as he started to calm down. His eyes were red from all the crying, the guilt for even trying to hurt you painted on his face, but you still grabbed his hands and pulled him close to you.

“It’s going to be okay, Ethan. I’ll help you get through this,” you said, as your hands comfortingly ran over his back. He relaxed into your touch, but he was still a little shocked that you didn’t hate him at that moment.

“Are you okay?” he softly asked, “I know I slammed you on the floor pretty hard.”

“I’m still pissed at you, but I’m okay,” you said, as you started to pull away. He held onto you tighter, not wanting to let you go just yet. “Ethan,” you said sternly, “We need to talk about something else.”

“Sorry…you have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve had affection like this,” he mumbled against you, before pulling away. “I’m really fucked up, aren’t I?”

“I might be a little fucked up, too. I want to make you feel better after you tried to kill me,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’re not fucked up, you’re perfect.”

You grabbed his gloved hand and led him over to the couch. He realized that he was still wearing the robe and pulled it off, tossing it on the floor before he sat down beside you. Your eyes connected with his as you slid the gloves off his hands and threw them on top of the robe.

“I know your family has their plans, but we need to save the rest of our friends,” you said, his heart pounding when you said the word ‘we’.

“No, you can’t help. I can’t let anything happen to you. I’ll take care of it,” he said, as your hands still held onto his. He looked down at them, before looking back up at you. “You mean a lot to me, even if you don’t feel the same way I do.”

You smirked at him as your thumbs rubbed against the top of his hands, “I never said I didn’t feel the same way you do.”

The tension was building up as you just looked at each other. He wasn’t the most experienced, and you knew that, so you decided to make the first move. You leaned in and gently kissed him before you pulled away. He had a sweet smile on his lips, his cheeks pink, but he wanted more.

He gained a little confidence, leaning forward to kiss you. It wasn’t a simple peck like yours was, as his lips needily moved against yours. Your head was spinning as he pushed you back on the couch, his body hovering over yours as you ran your tongue across his bottom lip. He gasped at the feeling, giving you the opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth. He didn’t know what to do at first, but soon enough, his tongue was moving with yours.

After a few minutes, he pulled away so you could both catch your breath. He was panting on top of you, a small gasp slipping out of your mouth as he adjusted his hips to get more comfortable in his place between your legs.

You started to get a little lost in thought, wondering if you were crazy. You didn’t expect to be making out with Ethan after he held a knife over you and scared you more than you’d ever been, but it just felt right.

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down to kiss you. The grip you had on his shirt relaxed, your fingertips gently running down his chest. He started to tense up a little when your hands reached his stomach, a small groan slipping into your mouth at the feeling. He didn’t pull away from you, the kiss only getting more intense as he started to grind against you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled against him, before nudging him back. “My bed is a lot more comfortable…just saying.”

“Okay,” he said, trying to catch his breath.

After both of you stood up, you could see how hard he was in his jeans. He subtly tried to cover it with his free hand, his other hand laced with yours as you led him to your room.

It got a lot harder for him to hide it once you pushed him back on your bed. You glanced at it before you straddled him, his cheeks turning pink, yet again.

“You keep blushing,” you said, as you started to roll your hips. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” he spat out, so quickly that you started to giggle. “Please don’t stop.”

Your hips kept moving as he placed his hands on them, pulling you closer to him. You gasped at the friction it was giving your clit, your panties getting more soaked by the second. He was starting to groan, his mouth falling open as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Okay, we need to stop,” he said, his breathing heavy as his eyes snapped open. “You’re going to make me cum in my pants.”

“Would you rather cum in my mouth?” you asked, your eyes looking deep into his. He didn’t know what to say, because he was so embarrassed that just you grinding against him was enough to almost bring him over the edge. He knew the second you put him in your mouth, he’d cum on the spot. You could tell he was nervous, his hands feeling a little shaky as he held onto you. “It’s okay, baby. We can stop.”

“No, I want to…I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” he sighed, turning his eyes away from your gaze. “Whatever we do, I know I won’t last long.”

“Ethan, I know you’re a virgin. I don’t expect you to last long.” He started to get flustered, hating the fact that his inexperience was so obvious. “It’s okay. If you want me to make you feel good, I will.”

“Shit,” he mumbled, “Okay, we can do it.”

You smirked as you slid off him and started to unbutton his jeans. He lifted his hips as you slid them down a little, the wet spot on his boxers from his precum making your mouth water even more than it already was. He sharply inhaled the second you grabbed his cock out of his boxers, his hips jolting forward at the simple action.

“Relax, baby,” you said softly as you leaned down to take him in your mouth.

You were trying to tease him a little, just swirling your tongue against his tip, when his hips jerked forward again. His cock hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whined, his chest heaving at the feeling, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

You just kept gagging around him, intentionally making your mouth more wet for him before you started to bob your head. His hands tightly gripped your comforter as you sucked, the feeling better than he could’ve ever imagined. He was trying so hard to hold back, but you made it impossible for him. His groans turned to whimpers as you started to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You knew he was close when he started to babble, only recognizing the words ‘Perfect’ and ‘So good’.

His hips started to rut forward again, his legs shaking as one of his hands went to your hair. He tightly gripped it as the feeling washed over him, his salty cum filling your mouth. After his hips stopped thrusting, you swallowed and slid him out of your mouth.

You sat there for a minute after you pulled away, watching him fully come back down from his high. He felt your gaze on him as he slowly opened his eyes and smiled at you.

“That was…fuck,” he sighed, pulling you closer to him. “Can we do that again sometime?”

“I hope so,” you said, as you started to think about what Ethan had to do. “When is everything else supposed to happen, like with the Ghostface stuff?”

You sat up a little to look at him as you waited for his answer. “Shit, if I’m going to stop it, I need to get to the theater,” he sighed, pulling his boxers and jeans back over his hips. “Can we finish this later?”

“Of course,” you said, fully sitting up on your bed. “I want to come with you.”

“No, I’m not losing the girl I’m in love with,” he said, jumping off the bed and landing on his feet. He paused when he realized what he said. “I guess you know how I really feel in case I don’t make it out of this alive.”

“I’m not staying here and worrying about you all night,” you said, sliding off your bed. “Do you know the theater well?”

“Yeah, but you’re not coming!” He was starting to get irritated, but he knew with your persistence that you were coming with him whether he liked it or not. “You could get killed, babe. I can’t keep you safe and take down dad and Quinn at the same time.”

“If they already think I’m dead, don’t you think that would be helpful?” you asked, “I’ll get our friends out before anything happens to them.”

“Fuck, okay. But we need to leave right now.”

You were hoping you could catch your friends before they made it inside the theater, but you peaked around the side of the building as soon as they were going in.

“There’s a back way, just let me scope it out for Quinn first,” he said, as the two of you walked around the old theater. He slid the robe back on and covered his face with the mask before he turned to look at you. “Wait here,” he said, before he opened the door and walked inside.

You were outside for a while before you heard screaming and Ethan’s voice booming on the other side of the door. You didn’t know what was going on, you even started to think that he’d decided to go through with the original plan, after all. You screamed once the masked figure walked out, the bloody knife in their hand.

“It’s okay, babe. It’s me,” he said, reaching for your hand. You hesitantly took his hand in yours as he led you inside, noticing a huge pool of blood on the floor.

“Is that…Quinn?” you asked, noticing the body hunched over in the corner.

“Yeah, we don’t have much time. Dad will be here soon,” he said, leading you down the hallway towards the museum-like display.

You bumped into Chad and Tara when you came around a corner. They both froze when they saw you, your hand still in Ethan’s.

“It was you?” Tara asked, as your eyes went wide, realizing how this all looked.

“No, but we need to get you guys the fuck out of here,” you said, motioning for Tara to come with you. They both stood in their spot as Chad glanced around, looking for something Tara could defend herself with as he tried to take down the masked person. “I’m fucking serious! We have to go!”

“Please just listen to her,” Ethan said, as Chad and Tara looked at each other. “I know how this looks, but you need to go with her. I’ll get Sam and Kirby out next.”

“Why should we trust you?” Chad asked, as Ethan lifted the mask off.

“I’m trying to do the right thing…and it’ll all be for nothing if you don’t go with her. Please, my dad’s on his way,” he sighed, as Chad hesitantly nodded.

“We can both take her if this is bullshit,” Chad whispered to Tara as she nodded. “You’re going to get Sam and Kirby?” he asked, as Ethan nodded. “Fuck, let’s go.”

You led them down the hall as Ethan made his way into the theater to search for the other two. Once you got closer to where Quinn was, you warned them.

“Try not to freak out, but there’s a body around the corner,” you said, noticing the blood spreading across the hall.

“What the fuck is going on?” Chad finally asked, “Whoa, who is that?”

You turned to face them, the confusion on their faces obvious when they noticed the red hair.

“That’s Quinn, she never died. Detective Bailey is in on this,” you said, before trying to think of the best way to explain Ethan without telling them his involvement. “Ethan is Quinn’s brother. He figured all this out today, and he wanted to stop it.”

“Oh,” was all Tara said, as you led them out the back door.

The three of you waited outside for a while. Tara was starting to freak out, the concern for her sister’s safety made her want to go back inside.

“Where the fuck are they?” Chad asked, as he heard Sam start to yell for Tara from the front entrance.

You ran around to the front of the building, panic setting in when you saw Sam and Kirby, but no Ethan.

“What happened?” you asked, peaking around them, hoping to see him walk out behind them.

“We didn’t believe Ethan at first…until he started to fight Detective Bailey,” Sam said, noticing the sadness in your eyes as your thoughts ran wild. “He’s okay, he’s in the ambulance over there.”

“Oh my god,” you said, running over to him. He smiled at you as you crawled into the back, your anxiety fading once you saw he was okay. “I forgot to tell you something earlier,” you said, sitting down beside him. You leaned in to kiss him, mumbling “I love you, too,” against his lips before you pulled away.

You were soon joined in the back by a paramedic, who was looking over a huge gash on Ethan’s arm that you didn’t see before, the blood unnoticeable with the black robe he was still wearing.

“Oh shit,” you said, looking at it. “How hurt are you?”

“This is it,” he said with a smile, before wincing at the numbing medication being injected into his arm. “That burns.”

You were shocked after he was all stitched up and one of the new detectives on the case said he was good to go, but that he’d just need to come down to the police station the next day. Ethan looked over to you, silently thanking you for keeping your word and not ratting him out. You knew he was wrong for doing what he did to Anika, but it was so easy for it to be pinned on his dead dad.

“Thank you, Ethan,” Sam said, as he hopped out of the back of the ambulance. “We’re going back to our apartment. You guys want to come?”

You and Ethan exchanged your glances as he took your hand in his.

“No, I think we’re going to…uh, hang out?” he said, like it was a question. It made you giggle as Chad curiously eyed him. He stopped Ethan before the two of you walked away, discreetly pulling a condom out of his wallet.

“Just in case you need it,” he said, as Ethan nodded and slid it into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Thanks, dude.”

Once you made it back to your apartment, you couldn’t figure out if you were with the same nervous Ethan from earlier in the day. He had you out of your clothes in minutes, your bare back against the plush comforter as he trailed kisses down your stomach. His hands were inching up your thighs as he pushed them apart.

He moved lower, groaning at the sight of your soaked pussy before he started to place gently kitten licks to your clit. You started to moan as his tongue moved faster, your hand tangling in his curls to encourage him, as if your moaning wasn’t already doing that enough. Once he moved his tongue a little lower and swirled it inside of you, your hips involuntarily jolted, much like his did earlier in the day. When your hips kept moving, he pinned them down with his free hand as he kept lapping at the wetness dripping out of you.

“Shit, Ethan,” you moaned, which only made him go faster.

His mouth worked you closer to the edge when he pulled away. You whined at the loss of contact, knowing how close you were getting to your orgasm. He wasn’t going to let it slip away, instead using his fingers and curving them inside you.

“Right there,” you whimpered once he brushed his fingers over the spongy spot inside of you.

His fingers firmly pressed as they moved, his tongue moving back up to lick fat stripes across your swollen clit. The orgasm you were so close to having was quickly approaching again, your hips still trying to buck against him as he struggled to hold them down. Your vision was getting hazier by the second, your whimpers getting louder as your legs started to shake.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whined, as your pussy started contracting around his fingers.

He pulled his mouth away from your clit to have a better view of your face as his fingers slowed inside of you. You were a panting mess as you came back down, your eyes hooded as your hands reached for him.

“Don’t take this wrong because that was amazing, but that wasn’t what I expected,” you said, your breathing still labored as he snuggled up beside you. “I didn’t really have to tell you what to do at all.”

He started to laugh to himself as his hand reached over to run along your naked body, “I guess it just came to me. I knew moaning meant I was doing something right.”

“You did everything right, fuck,” you sighed, feeling his hand run over one of your breasts, gently pinching your nipple between his fingers. “No pressure, but if you want to have sex, we can.”

“Seriously?” he asked, sitting up a little to look at you.

“Yeah, I know you already have a condom,” you said, running your hand over the pocket of his jeans. “Chad should really be a little less obvious.”

“He just wanted me to be prepared,” he sighed, sliding the condom out of his pocket.

He crawled off the bed to take his jeans off. You started to giggle as he climbed back up, the tent in his boxers obvious as he sat on his knees and looked at you.

“Those have to come off, too,” you said, as he started to blush. His hesitance made you roll your eyes as you sat up and leaned over, shimmying his boxers down his hips. “You have nothing to be self-conscious about,” you said, as his cock stood at attention right in front of your face.

You grabbed the condom off the bed beside you and opened it. He intently watched you as you rolled it on his length, the feeling making his breath hitch in his throat.

“Please don’t hate me if this doesn’t last long,” he said, as he got settled between your legs.

“No pressure,” you assured him, as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls.

He took it slow, at first. His hands teasingly roamed the areas of your body he could reach, the tickling feeling only building your anticipation up even more. Once he got through the initial fear of cumming too quickly, he started to move a little faster. His bottom lip was in between his teeth as he looked down at you, your tits jiggling with each thrust. He held on to one of them as his other hand went to your hip, holding you in place as his thrusts sped up.

He started to groan as he fucked into you, his cheeks red as his mouth hung open. You could tell he was trying to hold back, his mind somewhere else as he tried to distract himself. You moved one of your hands to your clit, rubbing quick circles as your other hand grabbed onto his arm.

“Baby,” you moaned out, as he started to focus on you again. “Go a little faster, I’m close.”

“Shit,” he groaned, snapping his hips into yours. You started to move your hips to meet his thrusts, the feeling of the tip of your cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot had you teetering on the edge.

You let out a loud moan as the euphoric feeling washed over you, your skin tingling as your pussy clenched him. His eyes started to flutter as his thrusts started to falter, a whimper slipping past his lips as he started to fill the tip of the condom. He stilled inside of you as you just kept tightening around him, his head hanging as he caught his breath.

“God, babe,” he said, sliding out of you. “I just want to stay inside you all the time.”

You giggled at him as he laid down beside you. “Is it that good?”

“You have no fucking idea.”

You were starting to get some post-nut clarity as you laid your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. He’d killed three people in one day and tried to kill you. You were still so proud of him for saving the rest of the people you cared about, even if he had his little psychotic tendencies. You made a mental note to bring up therapy to him once the investigation was over, knowing he needed to work through the daddy issues he ultimately had after years of neglect. You knew that you were going to be by his side the whole way, not wanting him to feel like he didn’t matter ever again.

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6

Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe <;3

series masterlist

-

Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up. 

He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.

How will he keep going? 

Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one. 

The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment. 

“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles. 

The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.” 

“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer. 

The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar. 

“Hey Tony.” 

Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling. 

“Hey Ed, how’s it going?” 

Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?” 

Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.” 

“With what?” 

Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.

“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.” 

“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve. 

“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?” 

Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is. 

“Get lost, freak.” 

“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness. 

“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back. 

Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read. 

“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either. 

Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales. 

It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room. 

Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave. 

Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about? 

Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing? 

How did you even meet him? 

You never even talked to him when you were still with him. 

“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.” 

Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.” 

“Tell your old man to come by too.”

“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves. 

Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie. 

“Hey! This is too much, kid!” 

“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there. 

Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up. 

“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes. 

Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van. 

“What do you want, Harrington?” 

Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.

“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him. 

Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?” 

Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now. 

“You’re the stoner.”

Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.” 

Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?” 

Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?” 

“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily. 

A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance. 

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation. 

“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up. 

“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?” 

The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t. 

Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around. 

“Put those keys away, dude.”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion. 

“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”

Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson. 

“I’ll walk.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”

It’s not about that, it’s about you. 

Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance. 

“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.” 

Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van. 

Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”

Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on. 

“Your music sucks.”

“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.

Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot. 

The song takes him back to last year, back to you. 

“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap. 

“A Song?" He asked, chuckling. 

You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist. 

“Uh– probably, Heroes.” 

“By David Bowie?” 

“Yeah.” 

You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.

“Isn’t it sad though?” 

Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did. 

“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,

and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?” 

Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing. 

He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”

“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!” 

 “Then keep going.”

“No,” you giggled. 

“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips. 

“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang. 

You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed. 

“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.” 

“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat. 

Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest. 

Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve. 

“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like? 

Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie. 

“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van. 

Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.

Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew. 

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault. 

He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little. 

“We’re here.” 

Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley. 

“I miss her.”

Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat. 

“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”

“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?” 

Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick. 

“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”

Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again. 

“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”

Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that. 

“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.” 

Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods. 

“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?” 

Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much? 

Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him. 

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more. 

“Spit it out, dude.” 

Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm. 

“T-Take care of her?” 

Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.

“I will.”

Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit. 

He walks away when he feels like breaking down again. 

He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips. 

He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how? 

How? 

-

You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up. 

How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable. 

Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle. 

Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick. 

She hums, glancing at you through your mirror. 

Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave. 

“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?” 

“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.

She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray. 

“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.” 

Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie. 

“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”

You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”

“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.

“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face. 

“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”

“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her. 

She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.

You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face. 

“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night. 

You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you. 

She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.

The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.

The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones. 

Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave? 

“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks. 

You nod, smiling at her. 

“You seem a little overwhelmed.” 

“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.” 

“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes. 

Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned. 

“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.” 

He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.” 

“As always,” you snort.  

“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you. 

“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”

She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.

“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you. 

“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.” 

He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously. 

“Y/n?” Heather glares at you. 

“Have fun, babe.” 

You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it. 

You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates. 

A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup. 

“Hey.”

You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore. 

“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”

You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing. 

He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness. 

“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch. 

“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse. 

He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”

You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it. 

You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away. 

You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him. 

You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink. 

You wish you would have stayed at home. 

You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks. 

You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.

His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened. 

He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly. 

None of it makes sense to you. 

If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened? 

Why is he still with her? 

Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along? 

The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill? 

Are they already going downhill? 

Is that why he told you he still loves you? 

So that he has someone to come back to? 

You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse. 

Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep. 

It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better. 

You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat. 

“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?” 

Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.

A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”

“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”

You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks. 

You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle. 

“You look beautiful, sweetheart!” 

He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” 

He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.” 

“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head. 

He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.” 

You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always. 

“You look amazing, Eddie.”

He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up. 

“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.

You can’t even help but giggle. 

“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance. 

He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”

Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?” 

He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes. 

“My knight in shining armor,” you tease. 

He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them. 

A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear. 

"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders. 

“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.

“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh. 

Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear. 

The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.

Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do. 

Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.

You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”

Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”

“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly. 

“Okay,” she smiles. 

When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him. 

But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden. 

His are filled with longing and sadness. 

Yours are filled with indifference. 

You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself. 

Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

"Yes, please." 

next part

only tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can

[scaredpigeons]

Aqua Regia — experimentation is for the bold.

Read Aqua Regia // masterlist

Neuvillette x Fem!reader x Wriothesley (heavy heavy wriothesley x neuvillette)

Word count: 8.6k

After being married for a few years, your husband asks if you’d be willing to… experiment a little within your intimate life. Your best friend wriothesley is happy to help.

WARNING: SMUT, NSFW 18+ MDNI

CW: m/m/f threesome, m/f and m/m sex. Wriothesley fucks you and your husband. possessiveness(neuvi), danger kink(wrio), growling, slamming into walls, making out, vaginal fingering, anal fingering(male rec), vaginal sex, anal sex(male rec), Neuvillettes inhuman tongue, mentions of Neuvillettes dragon dicks, biting, minor mentions of blood at the end, clitoral stimulation, teasing.

Authors note: okay, okay. Listen. Listen. I had to, okay? Look— it doesn’t have to be AR canon if you’re not into it. It’s not imperative to the plot. It was just so eaaaaasssyyyyyyyyyy. No, Wriothesley isn’t joining the marriage, it’s not becoming a thing, but I am a firm believer that people can fuck their besties if they wanna and it can be chill. Fuck your besties!!! Especially if they look like wriothesley!!! Let your boy best friend fuck your husband!!! Especially if your husband looks like Neuvillette!!

“Have you ever had sex with a man?”

Wriothesley spit his tea across the entirety of his desk, soaking the morning paper crossword puzzle he was half paying attention to.

“I’m sorry, what?” He sputtered, wiping the leftover tea from his mouth and gaping at you with his blue eyes wide.

You simply shrugged, pretending like his reaction wasn’t the most hilarious thing you’ve seen in months. Though, you were expecting him to react something like that.

He was your best friend, but you’d never really talked about either of your sex lives before, mostly because you didn’t have a sex life before Neuvillette, and you always felt too awkward to talk about these things with Wriothesley.

The past couple years with Neuvillette had really whittled down your self consciousness on the subject though, and your more recent conversations with your husband had left you quite curious.

“Just a question, you don't have to answer if you’re not comfortable talking about it though.” You said, nonchalantly sipping your tea, trying to hide the grin threatening its way into your cheeks.

“No, no.” He said, rolling his neck as if the shock of the moment had put a crick in it. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. You just… don’t ever talk about this kinda stuff.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable discussing it with me, that's all.” You said, setting your tea down. “That and— up until Neuvillette, I didn’t really have any experience to speak of.”

He rolled his eyes. Wriothesley often joked about how gross you and your husband were. Flirting when no one was paying attention, stolen glances across the room, poorly concealed marks on your bodies— he called you shameless, teasing you but never prying.

“Well I mean, some people may find it a bit awkward, talking about the sex life of their two best friends… who happened to be married to one another…” he said.

”Do you?” You said, tone light and teasing, almost as if challenging him. “Find it awkward?”

“Not really,” he grinned. “Actually I’ve been dying to know what he’s got going on, y’know… with the whole dragon thing.” Wriothesley made a lewd gesture towards his crotch as he spoke, making you laugh.

“Ah ah, I asked first, your questions can come later.” You teased.

He chuckled, rolling his eyes again. “Fine, fine. The answer is yes, I’ve done almost everything under the sun with as many different kinds of people as there are out there.”

“Your Grace!” You said in a mock fluster. “How scandalous! What would the people say if they knew the Duke of Meropide was such a common whore!”

”Hey!” He laughed, taking your teasing just as intended. “Just because I’m not interested in a long term relationship doesn’t mean I need to be abstinent! Let a man enjoy the simple pleasures in life, you prude.”

You snorted, covering your mouth a bit as you tried not to laugh harder, Wriothesley’s wide grin and accusatory index finger pointing at you wasn't helping.

“What’s your, uh— preference in role when it comes to that type of sex?” You asked once you’d calmed down a bit.

He snorted again, making your laughter bubble back up and threaten to burst out once more.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “it's just so funny to try and see you talk about this shit.”

“Answer me!” You giggled, trying to brush him off. “I’m trying my best, here!”

He cleared his throat, attempting to take the conversation a little more seriously. “I’ve done both, and I favor neither one nor the other. It all depends on the partner, really.”

Not that you’d ever really entertained the thought of what Wriothesley looked and acted like in bed, but you could very easily picture him in a more dominant role, taking charge and leading the experience with a well practiced hand.

But picturing him in a more submissive role? Being the receiver, his broad shoulders pressed into luxurious blankets, large hands reaching up to grasp at long, silky white hair as he—

Oh. You were getting ahead of yourself.

You took the time to clear your own throat and calm your heated cheeks, trying to keep a proper posture.

“What is your opinion on people having casual sex with close friends?” You said, trying to keep your tone level and casual, as to not expose your nerves and ruin the entire conversation. If things took a sour turn, you could easily play it off as morbid curiosity.

He seemed to answer without really thinking. “I mean, I personally don’t see a problem with it, as long as everyone is consenting and, you know… chill.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous and frequent use of cryo puns. You swear he did it just to get a rise out of you sometimes.

But he suddenly paused, most likely connecting some dots, as you figured he would.

“If I didn’t know any better, I might think this illustrious personal assistant was propositioning me on behalf of the Iudex, which would never happen,” his eyes thinned, turning a bit dark, but you could see the remnants of a grin threatening their way onto his face once more. “Would it?”

“Quite preposterous in theory, for sure.” You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to meet his eyes and instead taking a delicate sip of your tea, proper and poise. “Though in practice it might not be so improbable.”

Wriothesley’s eyes glimmered as he leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together and watching you avoid his gaze.

He made a noise of affirmation before clicking his tongue against his teeth. “Yes, yes. Well, even so, I would find it hard to believe, considering everyone in Fontaine is aware of how devoted the honorable Iudex is to his most beloved wife.”

“Yes, well.” You sat your teacup down, eyeing the rows of books he kept while willing the heat from your cheeks. “One does not live life without developing… curiosities. And perhaps his beloved wife is curious too? It’s not so obscene to imagine.”

Wriothesley tilted his head, and out of the corner of your eyes you caught him licking his lips.

“Obscene isn’t the word I’d use when imagining it, that’s for sure.”

———————

“Are you sure about this?” He asks.

“You know you can say the word at any time and this doesn’t have to continue,” You add.

“Exactly.” Wriothesley agreed. “I’m here to do what you want, there’s no expectations. I won’t be upset or offended, literally anything that happens tonight will not affect our relationship whatsoever.”

Your heart thudded against your ribcage as you watched Neuvillette look between the two of you.

Sitting down in the living room with Wriothesley and your husband was a common occurrence, many nights of cards and drinks and laughs were shared here. But tonight was very different, the air seemed electro-charged and the fire crackling in its stone fireplace was only adding more distracting noise to the sound of your heart beat thrumming through your eardrums. Could Neuvillette hear it so loudly too?

Neuvillettes eyes still danced between the two of you, and his brow raised slightly as if in disbelief.

“You are both aware that I was the one who initially proposed this idea, correct?” He asked, slow and steady as if to make sure the words really resonated. “It would be rather foolish of me to ask something like this of the two of you, only to change my mind at the last second. Unless… you both are having second thoughts on the matter?”

Both you and Wriothesley tried to express your refusal of such an accusation at the same time, making the two of you chuckle at each other with your eagerness.

“It’s not us, it’s just…” Wriothesley paused, making a circling gesture with his spread hands, as if he was trying to gather the thoughts he couldn’t quite conjure.

“My love, you have a tendency to be a bit…” you started, looking for the right phrase to not offend him too terribly much.

“Sometimes you can come across a little…” Wriothesley looked at you, cringing a bit as he hoped you would finish as if to soften the blow.

You sighed, deciding to just come right out and say it.

”Possessive.” You said. “You can be quite possessive.”

Neuvillette only nodded, seemingly unaffected.

“It is true that I can be rather possessive of my wife, as is in a dragon's nature to protect their mate, to guard their treasures carefully.” He looked to you. “Though I don’t see how that would be a problem in this situation?”

”My darling, you growled at that tea seller from Liyue when he tried to offer me a discount.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I did not enjoy the way his eyes were roaming all over your body, as if you were some kind of confectionary treat to drool over.”

“You’ve almost broken my hand just for touching her arm.” Wriothesley deadpans.

“Unrelated.” Neuvillette huffs. “I was experiencing a fluctuation in elemental energy when the full power of the hydro sovereign was returned to its rightful owner. Any irresponsible choices I might have made during that time can be written off as flukes, one time mistakes, nothing more.”

“Any irresponsible choices like, for example, courting your personal assistant without the knowledge that she was aware that was what you were doing?” Wriothesley stood from his chair, rounding the little end table that held your books to stand behind the armchair you were perched on, facing Neuvillette on the couch.

You could see the tips of your husbands ears glow red in the firelight, and you suppressed the urge to giggle when he clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“Nonsense.” He looked at you, and his eyes softened. “The decision to court you may not have been a very well thought out one, but it was a decision I will stand by for the rest of my existence.”

You flushed. He always found a way to make your heart flutter. You were so in love with this man— dragon— you were in love with your husband, and it seemed his devotion to you was an endless pool as well.

“Well, if it's unrelated, you should have no problem with me touching her again now, hmm?” Wriothesley said behind you, and you froze a bit in shock. You didn’t think he would start this so soon, but better to get going naturally, yes? Surely if you tried to talk about it forever, it would never happen.

His large, still wrapped up hands slid down your arms, fingertips dragging along your exposed skin until he was bent over the back of the chair, nuzzling into the side of your neck. His index fingers smoothed over the insides of your wrists as he breathed in your scent, a soothing gesture surely— but it only served to rile you up even more.

You looked up at Neuvillette and involuntarily whimpered at how strained he looked. His eyes were dark, menacing. His gloved hands were gripping the edge of the couch, straining the fabric as if it was seconds away from tearing and exposing the cushion. He looked like he was about to pounce, a murderous glare trained on where Wriothesley was touching you, breathing you in.

“You smell so sweet tonight, is that a new perfume?” Wriothesley whispered, making sure his breath ghosted over your ear, causing you to shiver.

“Yes,” you squeaked, still watching Neuvillette watch you.

“Just for me?” You caught him flashing that cheeky grin in your peripherals. “You shouldn’t have.”

His hands smoothed up and down your forearms, his lips barely ghosting along your throat, the tease of it all making you breathless.

“You seem far too comfortable doing such things with your best friend, Your Grace.” Neuvillettes' tone was dark, his voice was steady and smooth like usual, but there was an underlying madness creeping around the edges of his words that set your skin on fire. “Should I be concerned?”

Wriothesley pressed his smile against the sensitive skin beneath your ear, not quite a kiss but it ripped a growl from Neuvillette’s chest all the same.

“It’s fun to play pretend sometimes, isn’t it?” The Duke whispered your name softly in your ear, and you could see his eyes dip up to finally look at Neuvillette. “We can play pretend for a little while… can’t we, doll?”

You met Neuvillettes gaze. He was livid, yes. But there was a flush on his cheekbones that wasn’t there before— a heaviness to his breath that didn’t seem to come from his anger. You nodded to Wriothesley.

“I haven’t even touched you properly yet and he looks like he’s about to burst.” Wriothesley chuckled, low and breathy in your ear, but loud enough that you were sure your husband could hear. “Tell your puppy to heel, hmm? I’m just trying to get the fun started.”

Your thighs clenched together, heat pooling to your core in droves as you watched Neuvillette, all while receiving Wriothesley’s gentle and teasing ministrations.

“Neuvillette—“ you gasped as Wriothesley moved his hands to your thighs, blowing cool air in your ear. “Are you… still okay?”

Wriothesley’s warm palms gripped onto the plush of your thighs, making your legs spread almost on their own, a natural response to the kind of feelings stirring inside you, but it still made you squirm knowing it wasn’t your husband who brought such a response from you.

Neuvillette still hadn’t responded, but you figured he would voice his concerns if he truly had any. He looked as though he was fighting against all instincts, but from a quick peek to the crotch of his pants—you could tell he was just as excited as you were.

Your hips bucked up and arms tensed as Wriothesley kissed you gently on the junction between your neck and shoulder, your thinly strapped top giving him easy access to plenty of skin.

“So responsive…” Wriothesley groaned. “Aren’t you just a little treat for me.”

You bit your bottom lip as his kiss turned wet, his tongue dragging across your skin with each press of his lips.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you whined when he nibbled on your jawline, making your hands grip the arms of the chair even tighter as his hands continued their leisurely strokes on the tops of your thighs, fingertips only slightly teasing the fabric covering the inner flesh here and there.

“Such pretty little noises too,” Wriothesley said, bringing his fingertips further into the flesh of your inner thighs on the next stroke of his hands, watching the way Neuvillette lurched at the sound of your whimpers. “Does she make such pretty noises for you too, Iudex?”

Neuvillettes voice was chipped at the edges, wavering and dark, anger and lust and all other conflicting emotions swirling in the syllables as he growled out into the firelight flickering along the dark walls.

“My touch commands sounds more beautiful than you will ever pull from her, I can assure you that.”

“That sounds like a challenge to me, Monsieur.” Wriothesley was pushing it, he really was. You were honestly shocked at how well Neuvillette was handling himself thus far, but there had to be a breaking point.

The Duke of Meropide looked your Husband dead in the eyes (you only knew he did because you watched as Neuvillette met his gaze, his pupils thinning into tiny slivers,) and dragged his fingertips up your thighs, bringing his left and to press his middle and ring fingers deeply along the seam of your pants— the seam directly covering your aching core.

Your cunt throbbed at the attention and you cried out, a little startled but mostly just overwhelmed at such a heavy and sensual touch after all the light teasing.

As quickly as the touch was there it was ripped away, your body jolting back in shock as Neuvillette was suddenly upright, bolting across the few feet between the chair and couch to push Wriothesley away from you, making the Duke stumble backwards a few steps.

If he pressed him back where he stood, his back would surely collide with the bookshelves behind him, and somewhere in his instinct driven lizard brain he must have realized that, so he grabbed Wriothesley by the lapels on his vest and hauled him against the wall perpendicular to the shelves, which happened to line up quite nicely with your field of view as you turned around in the chair.

You sat on your knees and gripped the edge of the chair back as you watched them. Their profiles illuminated by the stone fireplace, the breaths in their chests heaving as they looked at each other.

Wriothesley was no small man, but he seemed so tiny as Neuvillette loomed over him, his eyes blazing down and piercing into the Duke.

“Your impudence knows no bounds, does it, little boy?” Neuvillette growled.

Oh.

Oh, did that ever do something for you.

Wriothesley cheekily grinned under his murderous glare, looking up at him without a care in the world— like one of the most powerful beings in Teyvat wasn’t pressing him up against a wall, looking like he wanted to tear him limb from limb.

Or maybe that's exactly why he looked so happy. Wriothesley used to be a bit of an adrenaline junky, didn’t he? Nothing crazy, just jumping into the water from high cliffs, picking fights with bullies much bigger than him, that sort of thing. You figured that spark must’ve died down since his sentencing to the Fortress, but it looks like it was still alive and well, glimmering up at your husband.

“Oh,” Wriothesley breathed, shifting his knee up in between Neuvillettes thighs. “I know plenty of ways to disrespect the honorable Iudex, if he’d like me to show him.”

Neuvillette let loose a sound halfway between a growl and a moan as Wriothesley pressed his thigh into Neuvillette a little harder, grinding against what was surely an aching erection.

“Or would he rather disrespect me?” Wriothesley’s breath was heaving in his chest as he pulled Neuvillettes hands from his lapel to his throat, steadying his grip there as he moved closer, pressing further. You watched as his gaze flickered from Neuvillettes eyes to his lips, before that sinful tongue came out and absentmindedly swiped across his own bottom lip.

And that was all it took.

Neuvillette crashed into him in a flurry of teeth and tongues as he devoured Wriothesley, pinning him further against the wall with his slender hands cupping around his throat.

You gaped as Neuvillette managed to slip a knee between Wriothesley’s legs now, and you nearly moaned he ground his hips against the duke, the tents in their pants pressing against each other's hips. Every few strokes they would bump into each other until Neuvillette must have decided that he preferred when they did, because he shifted until they were pressing against each other's cocks with every grind of their hips, making Wriothesley whimper out a pitiful sound that had you feeling your heartbeat pounding between your legs.

The Duke managed to pull his arms up and over Neuvillettes shoulders, wrapping his hands around the back of your husbands neck, pulling him closer as they devoured one another.

Their breaths were heavy, the grinding of their hips making you squeeze your thighs together as you watched them. You had half a mind to think that maybe you were a bit perverted for enjoying this so much, but the other half was too enraptured by the sight in front of you and the wetness pooling in your underthings to worry too much about it.

“You kiss—“ Wriothesley breathed between kisses, “—like it's a conquest.”

Neuvillette growled, pressing himself closer, squeezing the sides of Wriothesley’s throat in warning. “Only when I have a partner so desperate to be conquered.”

Neuvillette moved his hands in favor of sucking and nibbling along the exposed skin of Wriothesley’s jawline and throat, nibbling between the black wrappings and making the Duke’s knees shudder while he moaned.

His eyes caught yours where you sat and a grin pushed its way onto his heated face.

“Look at your little wife, Monsieur.”

Neuvillette turned his head, and his pupils dilated in the firelight as he caught you so shamelessly staring, face flushed and thighs surely squeezing together.

“Bedroom.” He said, voice leveling out but having no less of its ever commanding tone.

“Bedroom.” You squeaked, nodding as you nearly fell off the chair.

—————————

“I never imagined that Madame Neuvillette would be so shameless…” Wriothesley breathed in your ear as you squirmed in his lap, head lolling back onto your husband's shoulder as the Iudex sucked along your throat from where he sat behind you.

Your clothes were long tossed off, and you pulled at Wriothesley’s tie and hand wrappings, desperate to expose more of his skin. Wriothesley chuckled and moved to take it all off, his coat and vest long since discarded into the darkened corners of your bedroom.

Satisfied with Wriothesley following your needy directions, you reached over your own shoulders to pull at your husband's shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin pressing against your own.

“My love…” you whined. “More, more— I wanna feel you.”

Neuvillette brought his fingertips to your mouth, and you whined as you pinched the tip of his glove in between your teeth, holding on as he slipped his hand from the offending fabric. He brought his other hand up to do the same, and you watched as Wriothesley’s pupils blew wide at the movement.

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as you dropped the gloves in your lap, looking at Wriothesley with a face that was surely more lewd than he’d ever seen on you before.

Finally, his upper body was bare, and your hands roamed the wide expanse of his scarred skin.

“Kiss me?” You asked, looking at him through your lashes.

“What kinda question is that?” Wriothesley grinned as he leaned up to capture your lips. He tasted like tea, and a vague hint of your husband's lips from their earlier tryst downstairs.

You moaned as the duke's hands caressed your waist and cupped your breasts, his hips rocking up into you as your tongues danced together, messy and uncoordinated but so enjoyable.

Wriothesley pulled back and his eyes flickered behind you before a pained expression washed over his face.

“Damn it. Fuck. That’s so fuckin’ unfair.” The duke whined.

You looked back to see your husband shirtless, finally. You knew exactly what Wriothesley was whining about too.

Neuvillette was always beautiful, but all his finery and fabrics hid just how stunning he actually was.

His pale skin was flawless, glowing in the moonlight streaming in your bedroom window. His shoulders were broad, arms sculpted and showcasing the odd blue veins here and there. His abdominals were strong and lean, his trim waist dipped into his hips with a perfect v cut that drew your eyes directly towards the light speckling of hair that trailed below his navel. He had the body of a strong swimmer, he had the body of a being so beautiful not even the gods could compare.

He was stunning, he never failed to take your breath away even after years of the privilege of seeing him this way.

“I know exactly what you mean,” you pouted as you looked at him over your shoulder.

Neuvillettes long silky hair fell over his shoulder as he leaned in to crowd you against Wriothesley, his bare hands tipped in the faintest pale blue— the element he commanded pulsing through him too powerful to stay hidden away— running along Wriothesley’s sides to paw greedily at his chest, his arms caging you in and forcing you deeper into the dukes lap.

“You both act as if your forms do not beget a reaction so feral and obscene that it makes ones insides shudder in anticipation.” Neuvillette growled, his fingers trailing through the dark hairs coating Wriothesley’s chest.

Wriothesley groaned as you reached down to join your husband's perusal of his chest. Neuvillette was right about one thing at least— as beautiful as your dragon sovereign was, Wriothesley was a different sort of attractive altogether.

Wriothesley was thick. All broad shoulders and corded muscle, large arms that looked like they could pick you up and toss you across a room without issue. His waist didn’t cut in as narrow as Neuvillettes, his abdominals less defined, but you could still see the strength in him tense as you ran your hands across his body. Scarred, marked by his past tribulations and coated in a speckling of hair that just screamed that rugged sort of sexy that made your mouth water.

“Fuck,” the duke said, tossing his head back as Neuvillette ran his nails from chest to navel. “Is he always so quick with the flowery dirty talk?”

You smiled, squirming down on his lap, surely making a mess of the front of his pants. “You act like it didn’t make your cock jump.”

You bit your lip and moaned as Wriothesley grinned and bucked his hips up against your cunt as punishment.

Neuvillette leaned closer, his head dipping above your shoulder to mouth at Wriothesley’s jawline as you were squeezed between them, helpless and turned on with the Duke's erection pressing at your core and your husbands twitching against your ass.

“Your insistence on tormenting my wife will not go unchecked, Your Grace.” Neuvillette whispered as his hands pawed at the Duke's chest once more.

You could hear Wriothesley’s breath hitch as you squirmed further into his lap, and you felt your husband grab and squeeze at him while dragging nibbling kisses along his throat and jawline.

“You’re so fucking good, Neuvillette, shit—“ Wriothesley moaned, stumbling over his words a bit. “Damnit— I want to fuck you so badly.”

Everything seemed to still for a moment. Neuvillette leaned back, letting you look at Wriothesley’s flushed face and heaving chest. His cock was straining against his pants beneath you, you could feel it twitching as he looked up at both of you.

“Do you really?” Neuvillette asked.

“Wha— what?” Wriothesley breathed.

“Do you want to fuck him?” You said, sounding equally as breathless.

Wriothesley seemed confused for a moment, before his eyes darted between the two of you, his face still tinged pink.

“With the way things were going… I figured he’d be the one to— but if you—“

“Do you want to fuck Neuvillette, Wriothesley?” You asked, lowering your tone into something more sultry as you looked at him through heavy lashes.

“Fuck—“ he groaned, his eyes rolling back a bit. “Fuck yes. Yes— you have no idea.”

You both slid off of him, and Neuvillette grabbed at his thighs to pull his legs to the edge of the bed. You sat beside the Duke, watching intently as your husband lowered himself to the ground between Wriothesleys knees.

Wriothesley sat up, looking at the Iudex on his knees in front of him, and his face suddenly turned a whole new shade of red.

“You don’t have to— I mean, I said I was—“

“I want to try. Let me try it?” Neuvillettes' tone was a lot softer now that Wriothesleys hands weren’t actively on you, and you knew that would be the case.

Wriothesley propped himself up with his hands behind him. “Fuck, yes. Yes— okay.”

You leaned over to help Neuvillette undo Wriothesley pants, wanting an up close look at the way his face would change when he saw Wriothesley’s cock. And he did not disappoint you.

His eyes widened and pupils dilated as Wriothesley’s cock burst from its confines, the weight of it making it droop a bit to the side instead of smacking against his stomach. You felt your own mouth water at the sight of it. He was long and obscenely thick, you think he was perhaps even thicker than your husband, and you could see the way Neuvillettes gaze took it in, watching the gears turn in his mind as he realized he was going to try and fit this thing inside him.

A taste of your own medicine, much? You wanted to snicker.

Neuvillettes eyes dipped over to you, a look of hesitation flickering across his features. You smiled down at him, reaching a hand to card your fingers through his hair.

“Take it slowly, darling. You know what feels good, just let yourself have fun with it, okay?” You said.

He looked to Wriothesley, who just silently nodded in agreement, hands fisting the blankets and staring in almost disbelief at Neuvillette between his legs.

Finally, finally, Neuvillette leaned in and let his hot and wet tongue lick up Wriothesley’s shaft before releasing its inhuman length out to curl lewdly around the head of it, lapping up the pre-come dripping from the tip.

Wriothesley shuddered, his eyes widening even more as a desperate sound of shock was ripped from his throat, and he pulled away, scurrying himself back up the bed.

“OH!— okay okay OHkay—“ he yelped as he scrambled back. “If we keep doing that shit I’ll be done in five seconds flat. What the fuck?”

You giggled, looking at Neuvillettes' disappointed pout as Wriothesley panted beside you.

“Yeah, I had about the same reaction the first time too— though I let him keep going.”

Wriothesley sighed. “Yeah well— I said I was going to fuck him.”

The Duke shuffled out of his pants fully, tossing them on the floor. His thick thighs flexing as he kneeled on the bed.

“Sorry, sorry. We can try that again another time.” He took a deep breath, grounding himself. “If it pleases the honorable Iudex, I’d have him lie on the bed and make himself comfortable.”

Neuvillette eyed the cock still hanging hard between Wriothesley’s thighs, but listened without complaint, laying himself down on the pillows.

“Good.” Wriothesley said, the flush in his cheeks slowly dying down to something more reasonable.

He crawled closer, kneeling in between Neuvillettes spread legs, eyeing him for signs of discomfort as he slowly reached for the buttons of his pants. Neuvillette simply relaxed his face, lifting up his hips when Wriothesley pulled at the waistband to tug them off his body.

To Wriothesley, it probably looked like Neuvillette was in calm indifference, just going with the motions, but underneath, you could see your husband brimming with nerves and anticipation, his eyes blazing with need. Your husband was just incredibly used to schooling his own emotions into a mask, he was doing so now to hide his nervousness.

As his pants and undergarments were finally pulled from him, his cock twitched, long and hard and leaking as he laid there, and you simply couldn’t help yourself. You leaned down and took the head of it into your mouth, giving him a few firm sucks just to loosen the tension in his spine.

He moaned, his hand coming to your shoulder as he squirmed. You pulled away, smirking at the flush now coating his face.

Wriothesley whistled as he took in Neuvillettes completely naked form, running his hand along a smooth milky thigh, thumbing gently where it meets his hip.

Neuvillette squirmed, his hand reaching for yours. You grasped it gently, smiling up at Wriothesley. “He’s fine, just getting all quiet because he’s nervous.” You explained when wriothesley looked to you in concern.

“Nervous?” Wriothesley chuckled. “After all that? He’s nervous now?”

“Se—“ Neuvillette stuttered. “Nervousness during sexual exploration is normal, however sharing new experiences with someone that one has no sexual experience with prior can be cause for some anxiety. I am… I am fine— eager, even.”

Wriothesley smirked affectionately, rubbing Neuvillettes thighs. “Well that's good. Is it alright if I touch you now?”

”You may.” Neuvillette breathed.

You continued to hold his hand as you sat down by his hips, eyeing the way Wriothesley squeezed his inner thighs appreciatively.

His large calloused hands spread up and cupped around Neuvillettes pelvis, his thumbs gently running along his balls, watching gleefully as the Iudex twitched under his teasing touch.

A hand finally came up to grasp his cock, starting a slow pace of languid strokes, making you both eye the precome beading at his tip as Neuvillette bit his lip and watched.

“You know, I was expecting something a little more… dragon-like down here.” Wriothesley teased, eyeing Neuvillettes cock before tracing his gaze appreciatively all over his naked body. “You’re fucking ridiculously big, and so damn flawless it’s certainly a little inhuman… but not what I was expecting.”

Neuvillette watched as Wriothesley’s hand picked up the pace, only to slow right down once more, his calloused fingers squeezing here and there as his other hand still teased the junction between his pelvis and thigh.

“This is my… least alarming form.” Neuvillette breathed, and you watched as his brow twitched. he was certainly holding back. “I thought it appropriate to keep the experience as close to… normal as possible.”

“His other form is so pretty,” you pouted, twirling your index finger around Neuvillettes pert nipple, the pink flesh pebbling from all the attention. “But he wont let me play with them… he says I’ll just end up hurting myself.”

“Them?” Wriothesley’s hand paused as he looked at you with a raised brow.

You gave him a cheeky grin, raising up two fingers as you glanced down at Neuvillettes cock. Wriothesley audibly swallowed as you gestured a measurement well over a foot with your hands and mouthed the word big with some finality in your expression.

“Your mortal body is not equipped to deal with such—“ Neuvillette was cut off by his own choked groan as Wriothesley bent down to lap at the head of his cock, blue eyes still staring up at your husband with such intensity.

“You’re telling me you have two cocks?” Wriothesley teased between strokes of his hand and tongue, watching as Neuvillette writhed on the bed. “And you’ve been holding out on our girl here?”

Neuvillette’s head snapped up, glaring at Wriothesley between his spread legs.

“Mine.” His voice was a rasping growl, eyes aflame. “Not yours.”

You watched Wriothesley shudder, his grin ever present as he simply continued the strokes and little licks around your husband's leaking cock.

“Oh fuck, that’ll never not be hot.” He murmured almost to himself as Neuvillette settled back down at your soothing touch running along his chest.

“He’s just teasing you, my love.” You whispered to him, nibbling along his pointed ear. “Everyone knows I belong to you.”

“You have to let me see them,” Wriothesley chuckled as he sat back up, pinching along Neuvillettes thighs. The sight of your husband spread wide and flushed was enough to send pulses of searing heat between your legs, and you simply couldn’t take it anymore.

Neuvillette cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with The Duke as you settled to lay down on the bed beside him, rolling on to your side to face him. You nuzzled into your husbands neck, kissing and nibbling at his skin as if it would soothe the ache in your core.

“Perhaps another time.” Neuvillette didn't sound very thrilled, in fact he sounded rather embarrassed. You remember how long it took to convince him to let you see his more dragonian features.

Wriothesley smiled at the premise of another time, another instance of this happening between the three of you. It seemed that he certainly wasn’t going to object.

“Lubricant?” The Duke asked.

“Top drawer, right side.” You mumbled from your mission of scattering purpling marks along your husband's collar bones.

You felt Wriothesley shift as you wrapped your arms around Neuvillettes neck, bringing your lips to his for a fervent kiss. He consumed you, his inhuman tongue twirling with yours and dipping deeper than usual, teasing your gag reflex and pushing little tears to form at the corners of your eyes.

Wriothesley was back, spreading the lubricant along his fingers. “I’ll start slow, okay?”

“I am not made of glass, your Grace.” Neuvillette scoffed slightly as he paused your kiss.

“Have you done this before?” He looked between the two of you.

“No, I didn't want to hurt him, I’ve never done anything like this.” You said, looking up at Wriothesley before your eyes were pulled right back to the lewd sight of Neuvillette running his tongue along his bottom lip.

“Exactly. I know what I’m doing. Let me do it.”

You and your husband nodded, seemingly more interested in sucking on each other's tongues than Wriothesley’s scolding. That is, until Neuvillette paused, his eyes widening.

“There, there's one. How is it?”

A rough breath pushed from Neuvillettes nose, as he shifted, and you watched the muscles in Wriothesley’s arm flex as he pumped the digit in and out of your husband, slowly and with a careful gaze.

“It is… different.” Neuvillette finally said, letting you nibble on his bottom lip.

“Good. Please say something if you feel any pain or discomfort.” Wriothesley’s eyes were sparkling as his eyes flipped between watching the two of you and watching his finger sink in and out of Neuvillettes hole. “Think you can take another?”

“Yes.”

Wriothesley’s fingers were thick, you knew that. Watching Neuvillettes face change color as Wriothesley pressed a second finger inside made you writhe beside him.

A small noise left Neuvillette as Wriothesley started his slow pumps once more, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. You rolled to your back, immediately spreading your legs and running fingers along your clit, still watching your husband try to hang on to his composure.

You whined as Neuvillette gripped the blankets beneath him, his breaths becoming heavier as his face grew more red. Wriothesley was picking up the pace, slowing every now and then with a focused expression, as if he was looking for something.

The Duke watched you as he kept going, smirking down at your shameless display.

”Awe, you both just have such greedy little holes, don’t you?” His hand wrapped around your ankle, pulling you down the bed closer to him. A surprised squeak left your lips, and you watched with wide eyes as Wriothesley reached his free hand over to pet at your leaking cunt, fingertips slipping through and pressing so wonderfully.

He pressed the tip of one finger into your hole, before pulling back out and squeezing two inside you, slow and hot and so good. You keened at the stretch, your achey walls screaming at the sensation of finally being stimulated.

“There you go, ‘that what you needed, pretty girl?” he asked.

You nodded obediently, spreading your legs further as he pumped his fingers in and out of your hole, your back arching as you moaned and cried for him.

You turned to look at your husband, who was surely fuming at another man touching you so blatantly, but you were only met with a flushed and panting mess.

It seemed in your distraction, Wriothesley had added another finger, and Neuvillette was reacting sensationally to the pleasure. His voice was still held back, but you saw his eyes glazed over with lust, his little fanged teeth biting into his bottom lip.

Before you could get too distracted, Wriothesley crooked his fingers inside you, making you sob out and arch your back as he prodded at your g-spot.

To your surprise, Neuvillette cried out at the same time as you, a loud whine being ripped from his throat.

“Found it,” Wriothesley grinned.

The dam had finally cracked, though only a trickle of Neuvillettes true expressions were leaking through. He softly groaned, his eyes rolling back as his horns glowed, his hands nearly tearing holes in the sheets.

“Yeah?” You breathed, still spinning from Wriothesley’s fingers stroking inside you. “Does it feel good, my love? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Your Grace,” Neuvillette panted, tilting his head up to meet Wriothesley’s heavy gaze. “I… I need—“

“What do you need, Your Honor?” Wriothesleys hands pumped in sync now, heavy strokes of his fingers stimulating you both. His smirk was smug, his eyelids heavy and cool eyes blazing.

You could feel your core tightening, the pleasure mounting inside you.

“Wrio…” You keened.

“Fuck, who knew that you’d both be such sluts? You’re both just begging for cock, aren’t you?”

He leaned down, pressing a messy kiss to Neuvillettes lips, and you watched Wriothesley nibble on his bottom lip before pulling away from your husband completely, slipping his hands from the both of you.

“Let me get you riled up before I fuck you, hmm? You’re so hot when you’re being possessive.”

Neuvillette looked confused for a moment but the realization dawned across his face as Wriothesley moved to gather your thighs in his hands, pushing your knees back until they rested on either side of your head.

“Just need a little taste of it, sweetheart.” Wriothesley murmured, running his ridiculously thick cock along your folds.

You squirmed, hands balling into tight fists in anticipation. Looking at Neuvillette, you watched as his eyes grew dark once more, and he looked as if he was going to rip Wriothesley away from you at any moment.

“The more fuss you put up, the longer I’ll fuck her— which means the more you’ll have to wait.” Wriothesley teased the head of his cock against your hole, and your back arched as if to encourage him.

Neuvillette settled back, though a deep predatory noise rumbled from his chest, and you could feel Wriothesley’s cock twitch against you.

“Fuck, I’ll never get over that.” The Duke nearly whined.

“Please,” you whimpered, your words starting to slur from the fog clouding your mind. “I wan’ it”

”Yeah? Think you can handle it?” Wriothesley added more pressure, wetting the tip of his already weeping cock, teasing you further. “You only took two fingers, you think that's enough to take this?”

”Please, please,” you bucked your hips, whining again when he pulled back. “I can take it, I can take it, I swear.”

Wriothesley chuckled, low and deep and so seductive. “If you say so…”

After a moment that felt like it dragged on for hours, Wriothesley finally pressed into you, and your eyes blew wide, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

He was thick. You were so insistent on taking him, you didn’t think about the consequences of not being adequately prepared. In a perfect world, you’d have likely taken three or even four of the Duke's lovely fingers and perhaps a couple orgasms to loosen yourself up before taking this claymore of a cock.

But oh, were you a glutton for punishment.

It stretched you so completely, not unlike the way it felt the first time your husband entered you this way, though he always seemed to prepare you more than necessary to ensure your comfort and pleasure.

“Think I can wring one out of you before I fuck your husband?” Wriothesley grinned as he bottomed out, watching your face as you tried to process how ridiculously full you felt. It was like he was in your throat, carving out a new space in your insides just for him to fit into perfectly.

Then he started moving.

Your cunt instantly fluttered around him, the position he had you pressed into forced the fat head of his cock to press against your g spot with insane precision, and the Duke slowly worked his thrusts into a rough slapping of your hips, until he was fucking you at cruel and brutal pace.

“Oh, oh!” You cried out, unable to do anything but take it, staring at the ceiling as your walls fluttered around him, squeezing and clenching as your orgasm built.

You could hear your husband's low growls, but you could also hear a secondary wet noise, prompting you to glance over in your haze of pleasure.

You keened out as you saw Neuvillette stroking himself in time with Wriothesley’s thrusts, his eyes dark and menacing but the twitch of his cock was unmistakable.

“Yeah, that's it sweetheart,” Wriothesley groaned. “Give it to me.”

And you did.

It shattered through you, the build up so quick and harsh that the tipping point had you crying out, writhing around in his hold as you came with such force it made you squeal.

“Good,” Wriothesley whispered, gently pumping his cock into you, prolonging your pleasure. “Good girl.”

You felt a cool hand reach for your thigh, your husband's possessive growling reaching closer to your ears, before Wriothesley’s hands pushed him away, his cock slipping from you rather quickly as he pinned Neuvillette to the bed beside you.

“Nuh-uh,” he chided. “Good boys wait their turn, monsieur.”

“I‘ll tear your hands from your body if you do not use them properly in the next five seconds, Wriothesley.”

“Ooh, violent.” Wriothesley smiled, pinning both of Neuvillettes hands within one of his own, bringing the free one down to run a thumb along your husband's bottom lip. “But I believe that would be a most heinous crime, Monsieur. And though I don't think you’d last a week down in the fortress, I’d make sure your time there was very, very comfortable.”

Wriothesley pressed his hips against Neuvillette, rubbing their cocks together in a lewd squelch that made you whimper and flush, realizing that it was your own arousal coating Wriothesley and making the slide of their lengths so wet and smooth.

“Let me fuck you,” Wriothesley breathed as he stared into Neuvillettes heated eyes. “Fuck, I need it.”

Neuvillette keened, his cock twitching and drooling where Wriothesley pressed against him. Though his brow was still furrowed, his hands still thrashing in the Duke's grip, he nodded, murmuring something that sounded like a breathy “please”.

Wriothesley wasted no time reaching down to thrust three fingers back into Neuvillettes hole before pulling out and lining his cock up, still dripping in your juices.

“It’ll be a lot at first, just try to relax for me.” He murmured against Neuvillettes ear, his muscular forearm tensing where it held him up.

You watched as he pressed forward, as your husband's mouth fell open, his eyes widening as he gazed up at The Duke, his hands clutching the sheets beneath him.

Your mind was in a haze, watching as Wriothesley started his slow and sensuous pace, the line of his hips driving into Neuvillette in a way that made your insides shudder.

His voice was a symphony of broken little sounds, smaller and more vulnerable than you were used to hearing, but his flushed face and bite-swollen lips looked so enticing.

“Is that good?” Wriothesley whispered as he leaned over him, pushing your husband's thighs wider, further back. “You like it?”

Neuvillette released a weak whimper, and you could see the wetness pooling behind his ethereal eyes. Even so, he gave a delicate little nod.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, beautiful.” Wriothesley groaned, his pace quickening. “Fuck, between the two of you, I’m not going to last long.”

You realized you were absently swirling your fingertips along your puffy clit, the pleasure in you from watching them too much for you to handle— you needed release.

Wriothesley’s eyes flickered between the two of you, watching you both, and you could see the muscles in his abdomen tighten.

“Gods—“ Wriothesley made the mistake of moaning out that dreaded word.

Neuvillettes legs snapped around his waist, his clawed hands gasping at his shoulders, at his back as he pulled Wriothesley closer and growled.

“No.” He rasped, fire burning in his gaze as his claws pulled at Wriothesley’s shoulder blades, making the duke shudder and cry out. “No gods. Only me.”

Your fingers stuttered as your thighs shook, your high approaching much sooner than you realized, your sensitive folds dripping and aching for it.

“Oh, fuck—“ Wriothesley groaned, leaning down to breathe into the crook of Neuvillettes neck as his hips stuttered too. “Neuvillette—“

Neuvillette did something you’ve only seen him do a few times, on occasions of high intensity and emotional wreckage during your intimate moments. It was a primal and animalistic act, a response brought on through his instincts and inner feelings, typically hidden by his proper decorum and high intellect.

He opened his mouth wide and latched his teeth possessively into the meat of Wriothesley’s trapezius muscle, deep and firm.

Wriothesley nearly screamed, his hands white knuckling the sheets as he came, gasping and pumping into your husband with a shocked and embarrassed expression, the blush on his face so extreme it trailed down to his shoulders.

Neuvillette groaned, and you watched his cock jump and spray deep splatters of white across his chest and abdomen, even up onto Wriothesley— all while still latched onto him, teeth baring down possessively into the flesh. Small rivulets of blood began pooling where his tongue wasn’t laving it up, and you shuddered and came at the sight of it all.

Your body arched, mind going blank as it hit you.

When your sight returned, all you could hear were three sets of panting breaths, three pounding hearts in the moonlight pooling in the room.

Your heart stuttered out a little bout of jealousy at the sight of Wriothesley petting your husbands silky hair as he soothed him away from his aching shoulder, watching the droplets of blood pool in the wetness left behind from his mouth.

But as Neuvillette relaxed back into the pillows, wriothesley looked up at you with a cheeky grin, wriggling his eyebrows at you, and suddenly the stillness of the room was broken by your unfiltered giggles.

Wriothesley joined you, his chuckling making Neuvillette look at you both in utter confusion. The Duke of Meropide raised his hand, and you limply sat up to meet it, clapping your hand against it in a high five both childish and out of place for the aftermath of such a heated exchange.

“That was… crazy.” Wriothesley said, pulling himself from Neuvillette and sitting back on the bed.

Your giggles calmed, and you snuggled up against your still gaping husband, who continued to look between the two of you with a flushed face and furrowed brow.

“Yeah, I was not expecting it to be like that.” You said as you ran your hands along Neuvillettes chest, soothing him.

You were expecting a bit more awkward tension— but then again, Wriothesley was your best friend. Everything felt easy with him, and even in the aftermath, you couldn’t help but feel light and happy, not an ounce of shame or awkwardness to speak of.

“This exchange…” Neuvillette looked between the two of you, wincing as he tried to sit up less than gracefully. “…is it a positive one? I understand that laughing has more than one meaning, I trust that this means you both enjoyed yourselves?”

You and Wriothesley looked at him, and then each other before you both burst out in another fit of giggles.

“Mmn.” Neuvillette hummed, his face now relaxed and serene. “I take it you’re staying to do our laundry, Your Grace?”

Wriothesley’s laughter sobered up in an instant. “Uh, what?”

“Well, considering that you’ve yet to clean up the mess you left between my legs, which I can feel attempting to drip onto my silk bed sheets, I assume you’re planning on washing them after you’re done relaxing?”

Neuvillette wasn't one for unnecessary messes, always rushing to clean you up after your trysts. He wasn't opposed to a mess or two, but would very promptly strip the bed afterwards to avoid staining his very expensive and very old silks.

Now it was your turn to giggle alone as Wriothesley’s eyes widened at the space between your husbands open thighs, tumbling off the bed in his haste with a grumbled “oh, shit!” As he raced to find a cloth.

“Thank you for indulging me, my love.” Neuvillette whispered against your temple as he pressed a kiss there, holding you closer.

“Do you have any more ideas?” You smirked, and he smiled finally, scrunching his nose playfully at you.

——————————————

Authors note: not my finest work, i kinda lost interest halfway through if you can’t tell. I still wanted to finish it and actually have something to post for y’all while i crawl my way out of this creative block, so visiting the old wips is a must. Anyways, let me know what you think, comments and reblogs are most important!! Love you all so much. —Rae🖤

[imamuzansimp-oldblog-seoseoya]

Hi, may I make a hc request on the uppermoons + Muzan reacting to their human s/o getting her period and BAD cramps & how they would comfort her (if they’d even do it lmao😭) yk.. since blood = food, but they still love their s/o

Uppermoons + Muzan reacting to Fem!S/O with bad period cramps

content warnings: fluff, suggestive, manga spoilers, periods, mentions of blood and cramps, cuddles

word count: ~700

a/n: eeeeeeee!!!!! my first proper request! i’m so excited! i hope you don’t mind i only did the first three uppermoons + muzan for now, but i’ll come back to the others another time.

a/n 2: this is a tad bit rushed since i wrote this right before going to sleep

Muzan

okay but he lowkey has no clue what’s happening

even though he’s had multiple wives in the past, he was never really there. thus, he had no clue what to do

at first he just kinda stood there like 🕴️

but then he realized he should probably do something so he asked you what you needed

“my dear, what do you require?” he’d say. “it hurts…” you whine. your period had recently started and the cramps hurt like hell. “what hurts, did someone bring harm to you? whoever did shall die where they stand!” and you momentarily panic because nobody had hurt you. “no! zannie, nobody hurt me! don’t worry! it’s just my period!” you yelped, worried for the poor soul that narrowly might’ve escaped muzan’s wrath. “your…. period?” it’s rare that muzan appears bewildered, so this is a sight. “yea… basically for about a week every month, women have their periods. basically, it’s a time where we bleed out of our vagina and unfortunately it comes with way. too. many. cramps. there’s also other things like cravings and mood swings.” you explained. you noticed muzan started to get a hungry look in his eye. he had thought he’d smelled blood, but knowing it was from you and not because you were injured, he was resisting the urge to devour it that instant. “are you currently in pain due to cramps?” he asked, ever so politely. you nodded, it hurt like nothing else. “heat usually helps…” you muttered. muzan began to approach you. he snapped, and in just seconds the strum of a biwa was heard and a warm blanket and cup of tea appeared before you. muzan then proceeded to cuddle closer to you in the bed, and before you knew it, he was drinking your menstrual blood as he held your blanket covered waist. thank goodness the tea didn’t spill.

(i sorta got carried away)

Kokushibo

since he had a wife and kid (that he cared for) back when he was human, he knows how to handle it.

the second he smells blood he knows what’s happening and he enters your room with ice cream, mochi, tea, etc. and a pack that has been heated by the sun

he can control himself around your blood, especially because i believe the thought of drinking your blood would disgust him

“koku….” you said weakly as you watched him walk in the room. “my dear…” all six of his eyes softened when he laid eyes on you. “how’d you know?” you asked. “i’m a demon and your lover,  i could sense it.” he rested the heated pack on your crotch and gave you the sweets before he cuddled close. soon enough the cramps faded as your eyes dropped and you fell asleep in kokushibo’s arms.

(omg that was so short compared to muzan’s i’m sorry)

dōma

knows about periods. this is a fact.

drinks your blood. another fact.

nothing else to say except this:

dōma walked in seeing you curled up in a ball on your bed. he chuckled and said in his will-bending voice: “you poor little thing, you’re on your period aren’t you darling?” and you just laid there in pain and whimpered a ‘yes’. he walked closer to you, before putting a comforting hand to your cheek. “well, baby, did you know that stimulation can help with cramps?” he worded a question, though your answer wouldn’t change his imminent actions. “s-stimulation?” you looked up at him.  “oh, baby, you know what I mean…”

akaza

another guy who knows what it is

so respectful and he doesn’t eat women so obviously he doesn’t drink your blood

he just lets you curl up into him as he rubs your tummy 🥹

i’m sorry but akaza got me like 🧎‍♀️

“kaza…” you whimpered as best you could. “‘t hurts” you whined. your boyfriend stepped into the room. wordlessly, he approached you and got under the blankets. the first word he spoke occurred once he latched on as the big spoon with his big hands rubbing your stomach gently. “baby… don’t worry… i’ll always keep you from pain…” you leaned into his touch and stayed like that for the rest of the evening.

[bluejeanstrash]

11/10

a/n: i got this idea from an nsfw prompt generator so if anyone else has already done this, that could be why ✌️

tags: fwb! seungcheol, overstimulation, semi-dacryphilia, forced orgasms

w/c: 2.3k

in hindsight, telling the most competitive guy you know that you may or may not be faking your orgasms with him was probably not the best idea.

it was just 4 hours ago when jun had suggested a game of truth or drink. and it was just 3 hours 45 minutes ago when he had asked you ‘have you ever faked an orgasm?’

‘yeah?’ you’d answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. and because whatever was in that alcohol was making you loose-lipped, you had continued.

‘in fact-’ a pause ‘-and i’m not proud of this, but i’m really good at it. the guy could never tell’

there was an immediate murmur of we can tell around the table but you interrupted.

‘trust me, you can’t. those guys still think they’ve given me the best sex of my life but they were horrible. i faked it so i could get done with it and go home’ you took a sip of your drink despite answering.

‘so, anyway, yes i’ve faked it. many times’ you had concluded, looking directly at seungcheol when you said that. you didn’t mean to look at him, he was just there in your line of sight.

he also had this funny expression on his face, somewhere between amused and offended.

were you trying to tell him something?

seungcheol and you were in a (secret) friends with benefits thing. you didn’t really call it that but that’s what it was. it had happened as a result of another game of truth or drink around 3 months ago, and thankfully, every orgasm with him in those 3 months had been very much legit.

so, when you’d seen him outside the bathroom later you’d clarified.

‘you know i wasn’t talking about you, right?’ you reassured.

‘of course you weren’t’ he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it had annoyed you. no man should be that confident.

‘oh? confident much?’

he’d leaned in, a little too close for being in public, and said ‘i may not know a lot of things...but i know how to make a woman cum’

and as his thumb softly grazed your lips, he’d stated ‘i know how to make you cum’

‘do you?’ you retorted, moving back ‘or have i been faking it and you just think you’re doing a good job?’

you don’t know why but you kind of wanted to piss him off. i mean sure, you were sleeping with him, but seungcheol was your friend before a fuck and it was always fun messing with him. 

‘what are you trying to do?’ he’d asked, an eyebrow raised in mild annoyance.

is this a challenge?

‘i’m not trying to do anything’ big. fat. lies. ‘i’m just saying you’d never know’

sounds like a challenge to him.

(12:40 am)

‘please, no more!’ you move under his arms, writhing desperately.

‘answer the question’ he holds you in place, his grip tightening around you.

‘how many was that?’

‘f-fou-r’

‘did you fake that one?’ he asks softly.

‘no, i didn’t! i fucking swear!’ 

‘hmmn’ you feel a trail of gentle kisses travel up your neck ‘but you said i would never know, remember?’ 

seungcheol’s voice sounds sweet. so very sweet. but you know that tone—it's pure condescension masquerading as sweetness.

right now, you’re sitting on the floor, back pressed to seungcheol’s chest, locked in his heavy arms. 

after jun’s, he’d offered to drive you home, which had recently become code for ‘let’s go fuck’. and before you could even kiss him at your apartment, he’d grabbed your vibrator.

he’d made you sit in front of the floor length mirror, nestled in between his legs, with a towel laid out underneath as he played with you. were you getting pampered today? maybe.

it sure felt like it after the first orgasm, and the second. but when he’d moved on to your third before you were even done with the last, you realised what this was. a lesson. a lesson for running your mouth.

‘another one then, just to be sure’ he hums, before pressing the vibrator back against your clothed cunt.

40 minutes in and seungcheol hadn’t even bothered to take your panties off. there was something quite erotic about seeing that damp patch on your underwear spread as he made you cum over and over. proof, he called it. and by now you were soaked, the silky fabric clinging to your puffy lips.

you squirm at his words, fingers digging into his skin at the overstimulation. he doesn’t even flinch.

‘look what you’re making me do to you’ he clicks his tongue like it’s a pity. like he doesn’t fucking love it.

‘you know i want to let you go, right? but we just have to be sure so there’s no confusion about this in the future’

subtext: if you ever fucking insinuate that i can’t make you cum, i’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.

you try and wriggle again, but there’s no point—you’re completely at his mercy.

‘tsk, don’t move around so much. you should rest now. you’ll need the energy’ he cooes.

you can only whine helplessly at his words as you feel your brain and body consumed by a familiar high. and so you cum again, moaning his name as you do.

‘how many?’ he asks while you’re still coming down from it.

‘f-five’ 

‘did you fake that one?’

you tell him you didn’t. you promise.

‘are you sure about that?’ 

‘i’m sure! seungcheol please’

‘hmmn’ for a second there he actually contemplates letting you go but your cocky little words ring in his ear.

‘i’m not’ sadistic fuck. and once again you feel the relentless vibration as you jerk forward, your legs clamping shut. immediately, seungcheol drags you back, his lips gathered in a pout of displeasure as he drapes one heavy leg over yours to spread you open. 

‘where are you going? hmmn?’ he presses the head against your throbbing clit, not letting up for even a second as he forces another orgasm out of you. your sixth.

drained. that’s how you feel after you cum, your body falling limp against his. ‘seungcheol, i’m done’ you whine feebly, hoping to garner a little sympathy.

‘no, no’ he shushes you ‘we’re not close to being done here. i haven’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. how can we be done?’

he leans forward, two fingers grabbing the fabric of your wet panties to pull them aside. ‘how pretty’ he smiles, gaze fixated on your slick cunt, and a split second later you hear the hum of the vibrator again. the second it touches your exposed cunt, a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

‘f-fuck’ you curse, feeling that knot in your stomach just a few minutes later.

‘coming already?’ he taunts as you end up giving him another. 

‘that makes seven’ he counts it for you like he’s helping you out. you’re not sure how far he wants to push you today, but you do know you need to make it easier for you somehow.

‘please…can’t anymore…the vibrator’ you manage to string together in between quick gasps. the intensity of it against your swollen clit is too much. you need relief—something soft, something warm, something gentle—like seungcheol’s fingers. 

after what seems like forever, the buzzing stops. ‘thank you’ you whimper and are met with a wry chuckle, his body shaking behind you.

‘you shouldn’t thank me yet’ he whispers. one of his big hands wraps around your throat giving it a light squeeze before sliding down your body to your cunt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

‘so wet for someone who’s faking it’ he mutters to himself, thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds as he scoops up your arousal, pushing it back inside you. his finger slips in so easily that he adds a second. as he fucks you, fingers moving in and out, a vulgar squelching noise fills the room.

‘so fucking wet’ the softness of his voice now layered with something heavier. you can tell feeling you with his bare hands must’ve really turned him on. or at least that’s what his hard on pressing into your back is saying.

as you watch his fingers disappear inside you and come out all slick and shiny, your body somehow starts to crave another orgasm. 

he knows it too. the way your walls begin to squeeze around him as he curls his fingers up, two stimulating your g-spot, while his thumb rubs your clit, all working up an incredibly hard orgasm. 

‘go on…let me see you cum for me’ his voice is all you needed to hear, because a second later you come, for the eight time, gushing all over his fingers. 

‘look at yourself’ he commands.

you do, looking lazily at your reflection through tired eyes.

‘look’ he grabs your face, forcing you to look.

‘what’s that dripping out of you?’

your eyes drop to the towel that has a very telling wet patch on it. getting overstimulated with the vibrator always made you a little messy but not like this; never like this.

‘answer me’

‘cum’ and so much of it. the way it’s stained the towel, the way it’s spread all over your inner thighs, and the way it’s still dripping out of you is such a pretty sight for seungcheol.

but you’re exhausted. it was so intense and there’s no way you can do it again. 

‘seungcheol…i don’t have any left in me’ he can’t help but smile at your silly little statement.

‘no?’ he plays along, pulling you closer. his one hand grabs your breast, softly caressing it, before taking your nipple in between his fingers. his other, slides down to your swollen clit to rub in slow circles. and finally, his soft lips kiss down your neck, peppering little pecks along the way before stopping at that spot that only he knows exists. and as he stimulates all three so slowly and sensually, you feel your body start to betray you. 

‘when did you turn into such a little liar, hmm?’ he asks, feeling your body start to tense up like it always did before release. he knows this feeling, he’s felt this over and over for the past three months—you can’t fool him. and as you bite back your moans, it takes over, and you cum again. number nine. seungcheol smiles to himself, and doesn’t stop.

he keeps going despite you just having given him one. it’s sore and sensitive but the way his lips have latched on to that spot on your neck it’s impossible not to surrender.

in a consistent rhythm he builds your high back up - neck. breasts. clit. you look at yourself in the reflection and god, it’s so erotic. the way he’s holding you—tight and completely under his control, his arms flexing as he masturbates you—makes you dizzy.

you want to curse and scream as you cum but you’re too overstimulated to formulate a single thought. only eager little moans spill out of your mouth.

‘go on, i know you want to’ he coaxes as you do, thrashing and tugging at the fabric of his pants.

‘i thought you had no more left in you?’ he teases as you come down from your tenth.

maybe it was a lie before but now you really don’t. isn’t 10 enough? he has to be satisfied with that. there’s a few seconds of silence when you think he might be. he lulls you into a false sense of security as your eyes fall shut, and then the sick sound of the vibrator fills the room again. no.

‘what do i need to do?’ your eyes sting with regret as you feel it touch your extremely sensitive clit.

you know what you need to do. you just don’t want to do it.

he pushes it harder, toying with you. fine.

‘i’m sorry, okay?’ a desperate apology finally spills out. 

‘i take it back! you would know if you made me cum’ you whine. he says nothing, simply increasing the intensity.

‘i’m sorry’ your voice breaks as two perfect tears roll down your cheeks. until now, seungcheol had only ever pushed you to tears from the denial of pleasure, never from too much of it. he finds it incredibly arousing.

‘you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate’ he says, looking at your pathetic reflection in the mirror. you look so pretty with those wet eyes and a dripping wet pussy that he suddenly feels forgiving.

‘cum for me again and i’ll let you go’ he kisses your neck. a wet little kiss.

‘i can’t’ you cry, tears flowing free now. ‘i can’t’ 

‘you can’ and you will for him.

‘you’re going to give me one more’ he says like you have no choice in the matter and presses the vibrator harder against you as you grab onto his arms. 

‘shhh, don’t cry. be a good girl now and cum for me again. then i’ll believe you’ he cooes.

‘show me…show me how you can’t fake it with me’

as your start to spasm, your body shaking under him, you let out a moan, half of pleasure, half of exhaustion. you grip him harder, nails leaving red scratches all over his pale skin as the orgasm takes over.

he watches, fascinated at how you’re still giving him body shaking, toe curling orgasms after this many; at how your body moves at his command. he’s satisfied.

finally, you hear the buzzing stop as he puts the vibrator away. he wraps both arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear.

‘how many was that?’

‘eleven’ you admit, not believing the number coming out of your mouth.

he smiles. god, it feels really fucking good to have been proved right 11 times. his eyes drop to the mess you’ve made—on the towel, on his hands, between your own legs and he feels extremely smug.

‘so, did you learn your lesson?’ he asks sweetly, placing a single kiss on your shoulder.

‘yes! i did. i promise!’ 

did you? well, if this is your punishment you may just have to piss him off again.

[sinofwriting]

Points Have Been Made - Charles Leclerc/Reader/Max Verstappen

Words: 3,363 Summary: Max and Charles find out something happened to their girlfriend. Note(s): Thank you Mak for commissioning this! Mentions of medical stuff, infertility (not reader). One German word, one Dutch word, some French words. Jenson Button appears in this fic, because uh, well, I love him and honestly, I’d like to think (write) him having a weird soft spot for Max (and Charles) after seeing him more recently around Logan.

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“Max.” He lets out a hum, his focus on the car and racing line into turn nine. “Box box.” “What?” His eyes flick up to where a yellow or red flag would be waved but there isn’t anything. “I’ve only done three laps on these tires.” “Box box.” His brows furrow beneath his helmet and balaclava at the non-answer.

Pulling off the track and into the pit lane, his fingers tap against the wheel as they pull his car back into the garage. He sits there expecting the mechanics to make some sort of adjustments but instead they start doing what they do at the end of a session, cooling the car down, prepping it for its next use.

He feels a slight pressure to the top of his helmet and then GP is in his line of sight, leaning into his space and car, perfectly helping to cover him with the mechanics and engineers, so the camera can’t see inside. “Something happened, Max. Session is over for you.” His heart starts thudding in his chest, panic threatening to overtake him. “What happened?” His voice is muffled by the helmet but he knows that GP hears it from the way his frown deepens. “Out of the car, Max. We’re doing our best to not let cameras see in, but who knows how long that will last.” Max looks at the mechanics and engineers and only now takes note of how they’re standing. It’s a carefully constructed wall, not allowing the cameras to see him at all. “Alright.” He murmurs.

He focuses on his hands as he disconnects the steering wheel, resting it on top of the car before pulling his gloves off. He doesn’t know why but he expects them to be shaking, but they’re perfectly still, like always. Jaw clenched, he stands, bending at the waist to grab the steering wheel and put it back on before hopping out of the car.

It’s odd to take his helmet off, passing it gratefully to Annie who whisks it and his gloves away.

“What happened?” He asks GP again. A hand is pressed against his back, pushing him to walk and he does. Undoing the near too tight collar of the race suit as he walks. It’s only once they’ve nearly disappeared behind the wall, where outside cameras aren’t allowed that GP speaks. “It’s about Y/N.” And the rug disappears out from underneath his feet.

—

“I’m okay, mama. I promise.” She says, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear as she rubs at her head. “You're sick. And I know that neither Max or Charles is with you.” “I will be okay, I’m a big girl.” “Your my baby.”

Her heart clenches at her mom’s words. All of her friends growing up and even some now all thought of her mother as overbearing, with the weekly phone calls, daily check ins and texts, but she was her mother’s only child. She grew up knowing that she was supposed to have siblings, that she was never supposed to be an only child, but it hadn’t worked that way for her mother and it had made her protective of her only child.

“I know, mama. But I’m okay.” Her words nearly flatter as a wave of dizziness hits her, but she pushes it away, clutching at the counter with her left hand as her right rubs at her temple. “The weather just changed here in Monaco. Y’know how that goes.” Her mom makes a noise, not believing her. “Pascale will be coming over for dinner, to check on me. Charles' orders. Will you believe her?” “Oh, Kindchen.” Her voice is soft, so reminiscent of her childhood. “It is not that I don’t believe you. It is that you are always the last to notice when you are unwell.” “I will be okay and she will text you to update you. Now go to your book club. I know that it is today.” “It’s not a book club!” “It’s a book club, mama.” She laughs, wincing immediately at the way the movement makes her feel unsteady. “I’ll call you first thing tomorrow alright?” “Alright.” She agrees. “Love you.” “I love you too.”

As soon as her mom hangs up, she takes a deep ragged breath. Her hand on her forehead, that’s damp now with sweat which makes her nose wrinkles, grasps at her phone before setting it on the counter.

It’s only when it knocks into something she realizes she’s had her eyes closed and she doesn’t know for how long. Opening them, she blinks at how bright the kitchen is. Turning her head slowly, her nose wrinkles up again at how the sun is positioned in the sky. No wonder it was so bright.

Letting go of the counter and taking a step towards the living room, she swears when a wave of dizziness rushes over again and she’s clutching at the counter again. The edge of it digging into both of her palms.

“Fuck.” She breathes when it’s passed. She watches as a bead of sweat drips off of her onto arm. She needed a shower. She needed to shower before Pascale got here. With the reminder of Pascale coming in a few hours she takes a few more deep breaths before letting go of the counter and walking.

Only it isn’t just a wave of dizziness that hits her, but a tidal wave and before she can catch herself, she falls to the floor, head hitting the tile hard and knocking her out.

—

“What happened to her?” Max asks, feet seeming to be glued to the floor as GP tries to push him deeper. “GP, what happened?” GP looks around before leaning into his space, a hand on the back of his neck pressing, and Max lets him push his head down. “Pascale found her passed out, she hit her head on the way down. They’re still waiting for test results.” “But,” His mind is whirling, trying and failing to understand what is happening. “Where is Charles?” If GP is surprised by his next question he doesn’t show it. “He’s still out there. He just about told Xavi to fuck himself when Xavi told him to abort his lap.” Normally that would make Max smirk, chuckle but he can’t be bothered. “I need to tell him. He can’t hear it from Xavi or Fred.” “Andrea was going to tell him.” Max shakes his head. “She’s in Monaco. Charles can’t find out by himself.” He looks at GP pleadingly and the older man nods. “I know, go and get out of your race suit and you can go right on over. Fred is expecting you.” Max quickly claps GP on the shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you.” He rushes to say again as he moves quickly to his room.

—

Charles is grinning as his car is pulled into the garage. He doesn’t know what Xavi was thinking, telling him to abandon that lap. It was amazing. And yes he knew that his session was over, cut short due to a new setup that they wanted to try out, but it was fine. This track had always treated him nicely and with this car, it would hopefully even treat him to a win or he mused considering Max, second place.

Climbing out of the car and pulling his gloves and then helmet off, he doesn’t notice the way the engineers and mechanics are blocking the cameras from seeing anything, or the worried looks from Fred and Xavi. He just notices the worry on Andrea’s face when he catches sight of Max, standing just out of sight if you look into the garage, close to where the drivers rooms are. And he does notice the look on Max’s face, it makes his stomach drop and he rushes to him, not even murmuring a thank you to Jean who takes his helmet and gloves from him.

“Max,” he breathes, hands fluttering before they rest gently on his face. “What happened, Mon coeur?” “Charles,” his name is broken up by a stuttered breath. “Did something happen to Sophie? Vic? Luke? Leo? Jos?” Max shakes his head at every name. Dread fills him even more. “Y/N?” Max’s eyes close and he nods. “No.”

“Charles.” Andrea’s voice is in his ear, ushering him forward. “Let’s get you both somewhere private.” He nods, letting his hands fall away from Max’s face, though he can’t help but to grab Max’s hand, intertwining their fingers, needing the touch, and Max clearly does too with the way he squeezes his hand back.

As soon as his driver's room door shuts, Andrea speaks again before Charles can ask anything.

“Pascale called me maybe ten minutes ago. She went over to yours for dinner, to check on Y/N and found her passed out on the kitchen floor.” Charles makes a wounded noise and his already tight grip on Max’s hand grows worse and the barely older man doesn’t even wince or jump. Doesn’t seem to notice. “They’re at the hospital.” Andrea’s voice is somehow even gentler than before when he says it. “They are at?” “Yes.” “Oh, maman.” He murmurs, feeling tears prick his eyes and Max drops his hand, wrapping an arm around him, bringing him close. “They are waiting for test results.” Max says. “GP made me box. He told me and I rushed over here.” “I,” Charles shudders. “Is she okay? I mean she passed out on the floor. How?” “I don’t know. They only just got there or at least that’s what it sounded like.” Charles nodded. “Thank you, Andrea. For getting a hold of GP.” Andrea sends Max a look. “Of course, Max.”

Andrea leaves the room, leaving them alone and Max as soon as the door shuts, wraps Charles completely in a hug, holding him tight as he tries to comfort himself with at least having one of his partners healthy and safe in his arms.

“I,” Charles struggles again. “I should call someone to go be with maman. She shouldn’t be there alone. Not at least till I can get there.” “Charles,” Max starts to say and Charles shakes his head, pushing away. “No, Max. I know it is a race weekend. But it is just a two-hour flight away, I can be back before qualifying if it is not too bad.” “Charles,” he tries again. “I have to go. I can’t just be here while she is unwell.” “Charles,” and this time Max is holding his face, making him incapable of speaking. “I am going with you. Fuck the race. If it is bad, it is not like we will lose our spots in the championship. Everyone else is more than forty points behind, we will be fine. Let me call my pilot, the jet will be ready by the time we get to the airport.” “Merci, Max.” Charles breaths, pressing their lips together. “Merci.”

—

“Pascale?” She mumbles when she opens her eyes and sees the woman sitting beside her. “Did I fall asleep?” She tries to sit up but her head aches, making her groan, and Pascale is gently pushing her back down. “Lay down, sweetheart.” “What?” Her eyes wander around the room as she realizes this isn’t her, Max, and Charles shared place. It’s far too clean, sterile. She tries to lift her arm and winces when there’s a tugging sensation. Her eyes fall to her arm and more confusion builds as she sees an IV. “Pascale, what happened?” “I found you passed out on the kitchen floor.” “But,” she couldn’t have passed out. Right? Her mind struggled to remember it. She knew she had been feeling dizzy, but enough to pass out. “Are we at the hospital?” “We are.” Pascale’s hand pats hers. “I will be right back. I’m going to get the nurse, okay?” She nods and as Pascale darts out the room, her eyes land on someone sitting just outside her room. “Jenson?”

—

“Anything new?” Charles shakes his head, frowning at his phone. “Like before, they knew that she was dehydrated as soon as she came in but they are still waiting for everything else to come back.” “What is taking so long? Is it money?” Max runs his hand through his hair, before he looks at Charles. “Call them, the hospital. Throw your name around, prince of Monaco.” “Max.” Charles hisses. “I am not the prince of Monaco. And I can’t call them. Nothing will happen if I call.” He huffs, slumping back in his seat.

It's silent for a moment.

“Are you,” “Yes, I’m sure, Max.” He reaches over and squeezes Max’s hand before tangling their fingers together, lifting them to give him a kiss. “We will be there soon.”

—

She tries her best to focus on the doctor as they examine her but her eyes keep going to Jenson. Now inside of her room and standing in the corner, arms crossed over his chest as he watches intently.

“You have a mild concussion from the fall. The back of your head will be tender.” “But why did she faint?” The doctor frowns, “Normally I’d have the answer for you. But our lab is abnormally backed up and we are down to one lab technician. As soon as the results are in, I will be back to give them to you.” “Take your time.” She smiles.

Jenson shakes his head when the doctor leaves. “How does Monaco, of all places, have only one lab technician working?” “Jenson, what are you doing here?” He smiles at her, coming closer to her and bending quickly to press a kiss to her cheek. “Max texted me. Asked me to keep you and Pascale company. I was already here in Monaco.” She smiles at the older driver. He and Max’s friendship wasn’t too well known, but they talked often. Then she frowns, because Max had asked him. “Max asked you?” Her eyes then look over at Pascale. “I texted Andrea.” She nods. “Can you tell them I’m okay. There is no need to worry.” “Sweetheart.” “Pascale, I’m okay. I haven’t felt dizzy since I woke up, my head hurts a little from the concussion that’s all.”

Before Pascale can respond her attention is drawn away by the sound of the room door practically being thrown up and two voices on top of each other.

“Cheri!” “Schat!”

—

“We were so worried.” Charles murmurs, holding her face gently. “How is your head feeling?” Max asks, sitting beside her on the bed, arm wrapped around her. “I’m okay.” She smiles at both of them. “My head hurts a bit, but that will go away soon enough.” Charles frowns, fingers gently brushing over her cheekbones, before he drops his hands to hold both of hers. “Are you sure? I’m sure we could get you some meds.” “I’m sure, Prince Charles could get you some meds.” Max whispers in her ear making her laugh while Charles sends him a dirty look, though a smile is playing on his lips. “Don’t listen to him, Cherie.” She smiles at Charles, carefully leaning forward to press their lips together. Before being even more careful as she turns her head to kiss Max.

“Thank you both for coming.” “Of course.” “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” Charles and her both look at Max, eyebrows raised. “Okay, I can think of places I’d rather we be.” He admits. Charles shakes his head, “so silly.” He murmurs, leaning across her to kiss Max. “Now, why don’t we have your test results back yet?”

“There’s a backlog.” Jenson says, grinning when Charles jumps at the sound of his voice. “Max sent me over to keep them company as soon as you guys figured out the game plan.” Charles' entire face softens and Max flushes at the look their boyfriend sends him. “And they only have one lab technician.” Max lets out a curse. “Did you try bribing them?” “I could go try if you’d like.” Max starts to nod, but a knock sounds on the door and it opens.

She watches as the doctor blinks at the two new people in her room but ignores them, focusing on her. “I’ve got your results right here. Hypoglycemia. Low blood sugar and I mean very low blood sugar. When’s the last time you ate?” Her brows furrow.

She remembered eating Tuesday night with Max and Charles before they left. A nice dinner that her and Max made, Charles pouring them more drinks or chopping and stirring things. But she had eaten something the next morning hadn’t she? Her head throbs as she thinks, but she ignores it, trying to remember and winces from both the pain and the realization that she hadn’t eaten anything since Tuesday night.

“Tuesday night. I was going to eat breakfast on Wednesday but we were out of my breakfast bars and then I got so busy and I just wasn’t hungry.” “Are you not hungry often?” “Sometimes. But even then I make sure to eat at least one meal a day, I snack throughout. I’ve never done this before.” They nod. “As long as this isn’t a normal occurrence, I don’t see an issue. But, you need to make sure you are eating often. You don’t want to be back in here because you forgot to eat and it made your blood sugar drop.” “Of course. Thank you so much.” They nod. “I’ll get your discharge paperwork done and as soon as you're finished with the bag, you’ll be free to go.”

—

“When are you guys flying back?” She asks, Max’s head in her lap, her fingers combing through his hair as she leans against Charles. Max makes a face. “We won’t be.”

Charles and him had both talked about it as they got Pascale home and she settled in. Their teams would be unhappy, but it wasn’t like they could be overtaken in the championship. They could live. And they had two weeks after this with no racing. Two weeks where they could make sure she was eating, taking care of herself. And she’d be going to the next race anyway. This had been a sort of one-off due to all the things that had piled up at home.

“What do you mean you won’t be?” “We can miss a race. Max is twenty points ahead of me, I am forty-seven points ahead of Oscar.” “I have so many questions about that.” She murmurs, because god what was this season. Checo barely hung onto fourth in the championship with George hunting him down, Lewis and Lando hunting down George. Barely fifteen points collectively separating third to seventh. Charles snorts. “Many people would like to know the same.” “You should go though. Put more of a lead in the points.” Max and Charles share a look, a bit hard with their positions but they manage. “No.” They both agree. “I can survive not even two days. I’ll go stay with Pascale. Have Arthur stay with me. Or Jenson since he’s here in Monaco.” “No.” They say again at the same time. “You are far more important than another twenty-five or eighteen points.” Max continues. She sighs, looking at them both. “Three stubborn people is way too many people in a relationship.” “I think it’s perfect.” “Suck up.” Max coughs and Charles flicks him on the forehead. “Says you.”

“Boys, settle down.” “Love you.” They chorus. She shakes her head, sighing. “If you will not go without me, I will just go with you.” “You have a concussion.” “A mild concussion. And we all know that you have flown before with a concussion, Charles.” He pouts, “it was just once.” “Twice.” Max coughs and Charles flicks him again.

“I will go with you tomorrow. Just please make the flight later than eight am.” “Done.” Max says, already texting his flight crew. “Thank you.” She starts to bend to kiss Max, when her face is redirected to look at Charles and he kisses her. She expects Max to whine but as soon as Charles is done, Max is turning her head the other way, no longer laying in her lap, to kiss her as well.

@fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @ironspdy @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @eutrizbea @namgification @eugene-emt-roe @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @stopeatread @hiireadstuff

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 11

Word Count- 3.8k

Warnings- Mentions of Suicide(Damon trying to die because of his wolf bite), swearing, death, blood, gun/gun-shot wounds, smaller chapter but big things happening cliffhanger ending

“Yes, Elena. Once again, I’m fine. I have to go run an errand and then I’ll see you guys at the square. OK? Toodles!”

I quickly hung up my phone, just in case Elena decided to ask what errand I was running. How the hell am I supposed to tell her I’m going to try to talk a dying Damon Salvatore off the ledge?

It’s been two days since Demon dropped the bomb that he was dying and then disappeared. He hasn’t answered my calls and whenever I ask Stefan about him he says “I’m working on it.” Not well enough, clearly, because the Bunny Eater called me 30 minutes ago telling me Damon just tried lighting himself on fire and he needs my help talking him down. I’m not sure why I’m the one he called for this since I’ve heard Damon on more than one occasion say he’d rather die than listen to me speak. 

Damon and Stefan have made me keep quiet about this, so no one else but us three knows. Which is why I fibbed a bit on my phone call with Elena. I’m not entirely on board with keeping this a secret. What do the Salvatores think is going to happen when the werewolf bite kills Damon? Just tell everyone Damon went upstate to a farm, just like what parents tell their children when their turtles or dogs die.

Although Damon and I have had our differences, I can admit the thought of him dying doesn’t sit well with me. Especially since he got bit trying to stop the ritual. Even though it didn’t stop it, it did save Tyler and Caroline. Who I guess was replaced by that bitch Jules and some random vampire Klaus had in his back pocket. 

I take a deep breath as I exit my car and walk up to the front door of the Salvatore house. I don’t bother knocking since everyone kind of just lets themselves in when it comes to this place. I’m about to call out for Stefan but within a moment he’s flashed in front of me. 

“Oh good lord,” I clutch my chest in surprise. At this Stefan’s eyes widen and he reaches out to me.

“I’m sorry, Y/n! Is it your heart again? Do you need anything? Here take some of my blood,” Stefan frantically says.

I put both of my hands up and shake them, “Stefan calm down dude, okay? I’m good, you just scared me. I’ve got to start getting you vamps little bells to wear around your necks.”

Stefan slightly laughs but I can still see the weariness in his eyes.

“Really Stefana, I’m good.”

Stefan sighs and nods, “Sorry, I just…with everything going on I’m just…,” Stefan rubs his hand over his face and now I can clearly see the exhaustion and sadness on it. 

I take a step closer and wrap my arms around him in a hug, “It’ll be ok, we’ll figure it out, alright?”

Stefan doesn’t say anything but I feel him nod as he wraps his arms around me tighter as if me hugging him is the only thing keeping him grounded. And after seeing his older brother trying to light himself on fire, it might just be. 

After another moment Stefan releases me and smiles at me but it doesn't reach up all the way. 

“He’s down here,” He says and I follow him down to where Elijah was when he was daggered. 

At the thought of the Original my heart sinks. It’s been three days since I’ve seen or heard from him. Each time I hear my phone ring a small part of me expects it to be him with his stupid posh accent telling me he’s sorry for ghosting me, but every time I answer it’s never him. I’ve tried to distract myself with hanging out with the girls, or Theo, and even the occasional phone call with Jenna who talks to me a lot now about the supernatural since we both learned about it recently. Bonnie and I have also been going through her deceased Gram’s grimoires and things to see if we can find anything on why my chest bled and then magically healed itself, but nothing comes up.  It’s disheartening but Bonnie says she won’t stop searching until she’s found the reason. Our time together has made me realize just how good of a friend Bonnie is. She’s loyal and kind and she’d fight for her friends until her dying breath. Which is sadly something she has already done once. I really like hanging out with her and her teaching me more about her world. I may not understand much about witches but it’s nice to see how excited she gets when she talks about it. 

“Are you going to be good down here by yourself,” Stefan leans down to whisper to me.

“What,” I question now realizing he’s been talking this entire time. 

“I have to go to the square to go speak to Elena but after I’ll be back. Just whatever he says, don’t let him out. Ric should be here soon too. He can take your place when he gets here.”

I do a soldier’s salute and he rolls his eyes as he walks back upstairs. Leaving me and Grumpy down here by ourselves. The door that separates us is big and wooden with a small window that has three metal bars. I look through and frown when I see Damon scrunched up, sitting on the far side of the room. 

“Are you going to eat me if I come in?”

“Drinking your blood would be a fate worse than death,” Damon’s scratchy voice speaks up after a moment. 

I roll my eyes as I unlock the door and push it open, I quickly make my way inside and close it. I lean against the door and cross my arms as I look at the dying vampire in front of me. 

“Stefan really thought you of all people would be the one to talk me off the ledge,” Damon grunts out as he puts his head up to look at me. 

“That’s exactly what I said. I told him you’d be more likely to do it again after hearing me speak,” I laugh out.

Damon’s upper lip twitches for a moment and he lets out a strangled laugh, “You’re not wrong. 

We’re both quiet for a moment before Damon speaks up again, “I’m going to die.”

I take a deep breath and sit down against the door mirroring Damon, “At the moment, yes you are.”

Damon raises an eyebrow at me, “So you’re not going to fill me with fairy tales about some special cure and that by tomorrow I’ll be fresh as a daisy?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Is that what you want me to do?”

Damon stares at me for a moment and then shakes his head, “No, I don’t.”

“Alright then. Works for me. You know, Stefan called me to try to talk you down because he thinks what you did was crazy. But… I understand why you did it.”

This captures Damon’s attention as he stares questioningly at me, “You do?”

I nod as I play with a loose thread on my shirt, “Ya. You’re scared. And in pain. You think this is the only way out, but it isn’t. And I’m not saying that because of some magical cure. I’m saying that because you still have time left to say your goodbyes and to be with those who actually care about you. Even though you’re an actual hellspawn. I know that this is scary, you’ve been alive for over a century and now you’re facing mortality for the first time in years. I would be scared too.”

Damon’s jaw clenches and for a moment I think he’s mad but when I see him turn his head to stare at the wall next to him I realize he’s trying to hide his emotions. 

“Damon you can stare at that wall all you’d like but I meant what I said.”

At the sound of footsteps, I stand up. 

“Ric’s here. Try not to be such an ass to him. You’re kind of like his only friend,” When he doesn’t make any noise about my joke I frown and start to unlatch the door, “I’m glad I met you, Damon. I don’t tell a lot of people that, but it’s true. Thanks for bringing out a fire in me I didn’t know I had.”

Damon says nothing and I quickly wipe a stray tear from my face as I open the door.

“I’m glad I met you too, Y/N. Even though you’re a pain in the ass,” I turn and make eye contact with Damon, and even though the room is dark, I swear I can see small tears building in his blue eyes, “I don’t believe in next lives or whatever…but if they somehow exist, I wouldn’t mind meeting you again in that one, Pukey.”

I let out a small sob as I run over to the seated man and throw my arms over him. He lets out a grunt of surprise and after a moment he wraps his arms around me and I can feel the dampness from his tears on my shirt.

“If you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you,” He tries to threaten but his voice comes out strained so it doesn’t hold much punch.

“Ya whatever, Demon.”

—

It’s night by the time I get to the square for whatever movie night the town’s having. Elena asked me to come earlier since she says everyone needs a break from all the chaos that has happened. I’m not excited to see how she’s going to react to the news about Damon. But for now, I’m grabbing my fluffy blanket and walking towards my friends and watching this stupid movie.

Jenna, Jeremy, Bonnie, and Caroline all sit together talking as I walk up behind them. 

“Hey guys,” I say and they all spin around to look at me. Bonnie and Jenna both send me warm smiles and waves, Caroline hops up and guides me over to the group talking my ear off already, and Jeremy tries to send me a smile but that dude looks like he would rather be anywhere else. 

“What errand took you so long,” Caroline questions.

“Oh, Theo just needed some help bringing back his football gear and stuff. I guess the coach has been bothering him to get it back for weeks since the season ended,” I say which isn’t a total lie since I did do that after leaving the Salvatores.

“How is Theo,” Jeremy asks. 

Ever since the funeral Jeremy and Theo have been gaming together. When I asked Theo about it,  he said he was doing it out of pity and that someone as cool as him wouldn’t hang out with an emo like Jeremy. But after passing by Theo’s room and hearing him and Jeremy laugh and make fun of each other over call, I don’t think Theo is really doing this out of pity anymore. After moving here and with everything that has happened with our parents it’s been hard for Theo to make friends. Even though he says otherwise. I know he has people to hang out with at school, but it’s all brainless jocks who probably don’t even care to know my brother’s favorite color. He needs a good friend like Jeremy in his life. 

“Theo’s good. Even though he was pissy this morning because he says you cheated last night,” I admit to him as I sit down next to Jenna and Caroline. 

Jeremy shoots me a look of disbelief, “I did not cheat! That jerk! He’s the one who cheated,” Jeremy lifts up his phone and starts angrily texting someone. A someone, who I’m guessing is my brother.

I look around noticing the absence of my best friend, “Where’s Elena?”

They all look at each other wearily before Bonnie grabs my hand, “You might want to prepare yourself for this.”

I look at her confused for a moment and whisper, “Is this about the Damon thing?”

“You knew?!’’

“What?”

“Excuse me?”

“Bro!”

They all yell out and I raise my hands in surrender, “Hey! Stefana and Demon made me keep quiet. They didn’t want to stress anyone else out more.”

“How long have you known,” Caroline asks me and I grimace, “Like… since John’s funeral.”

“Y/N!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It just wasn’t my place to say.”

They think about this for a moment before nodding.

“Elena went to go talk to Damon and Stefan is off trying to find a cure,” Bonnie says.

“Let’s hope he finds one in time.”

We all quiet down after a moment and go back to watching the movie, but 5 minutes later I feel a tap on my right shoulder.

I shoot Jenna a questioning look as she leans down to whisper to me, “Anything from Elijah?”

I just send her a small shake of my head and she returns it with a comforting smile and a squeeze to my shoulder, “His loss then.”

Over the past few days of Jenna and I talking about the supernatural, we’ve also been chatting about other things like school and relationships. It took me a while to open up but after I did I brought up Elijah. Talking to Jenna about Elijah, and everything that’s happened with him has actually made me feel somewhat better. Jenna’s been more of a mother figure to me these past three days than my own mother has in almost 18 years. 

Out of the corner of my eye, Jeremy quickly stands up, capturing all of our attention. 

He hangs up the phone and turns back to us with a nervous look, “Damon escaped and Elena wasn’t there yet so Ric thinks he’s coming here to see her. Ric says the bite is making him hallucinate so he’s not himself right now.”

“Fantastic,” I mutter to myself and Jenna slightly elbows me and shoots me a disapproving look. 

“If Damon is off the rails, there is nothing you can do to stop him. Let us take care of it,” Bonnie gestures towards herself, and Caroline and I want to groan at this. It’s really starting to piss me off how the supernaturals keep pushing us humans away every time we want to help. Just because we don’t have super strength or heal within a split second doesn’t mean we’re useless.  

“You keep doing this! You left me behind before, and guess what, Elena was still killed,” Jeremy exclaims to his girlfriend, “I’m going to find my sister. You go ahead and try to stop me. Y/N, Jenna, you with me?” 

Jenna instantly nods and I shoot a look at Bonnie and Caroline before walking towards Jeremy, “Let’s go.”

—

“There he is!” 

I follow behind Jeremy as we see a wounded Damon staring off into space. Jenna left a while ago to go find Ric, leaving Little Gilbert and I to try to find Elena. “Damon,” Jeremy tries catching the attention of the delusional vamp and I watch with caution. 

“Where’s Elena? I need to see Elena now,” He frantically says and I send him a smile as Jeremy walks closer to him.

“Hey, let’s get you out of here first, alright,” Jeremy grabs Damon, who instantly falls into his arms. I go to the vampire’s other side and grab his arms trying to help Jeremy with the deadweight. 

After a bunch of odd stares and murmurs from passersby, we finally get Damon through the crowd and into the empty Grill.

Jeremy drops Damon off at a table and goes to tell Ric where we are. I’m still holding onto Damon's arm as I watch Jere, but turn around when I feel Damon do the same. And I freeze.

“Y/n, move I don’t want to hurt you,” Sheriff Forbes stands in front of us holding her gun and pointing at Damon. 

I go to try to reason to her but Damon flashes away, spooking Liz and all I hear is the sound of a gun and a piercing in my left arm. 

“Oh god,” Liz looks at me for a moment in shock but when she looks behind me her features go straight to fear. 

A strangled sob escapes my mouth as I watch Jeremy fall to the floor, his once-grey shirt turning red, as blood spills from his chest. 

“What the hell did you do,” I scream at Liz as I run over to Jeremy with tears in my eyes.

 I strip off my sweatshirt and place it over his bleeding chest.

“Come on Jeremy, you’re going to be alright,” I sob, “You’re going to be alright Jere,”

Another sob comes from my mouth as Jeremy’s shaking hand grabs mine for comfort. 

“I know this hurts but I have to keep pressure on it, okay. You’re going to be just fine.”

I can hear Liz call for paramedics as she tries to move my hands so she can hold down the sweatshirt.

“Don’t you dare,” I snarl at her and she sits back.

“Jeremy…Hey! Jere,” I shake my head as he closes his eyes. 

Bonnie and Caroline rush up to us and Caroline gently sets me back so she can try to help Jeremy. I sit there with silent sobs as I watch Bonnie tell Caroline that Jeremy’s ring won't bring him back since the sheriff is human. 

Caroline bites into her wrist and places it onto Jeremy’s mouth, “Go on, Jeremy. Drink.”

“What are you doing,” The sheriff questions her daughter even though she is not the one who should be speaking at all right now. 

“I’m helping him.”

I sit there with tears in my eyes as Jeremy doesn’t wake up and I know it’s because he’s dead. The others must realize this too because they all sit back with sobs of their own. The sound of a door opening captures my attention and I look up to see Ric and Jenna staring over at us.

“Bonnie what’s wrong,” Ric asks as he and Jenna run over to us. As soon as they see Jeremy though they halt. Jenna instantly falls to her knees crying and I crawl over to her ignoring the shooting pain in my arm. I grab her into my arms and she instantly latches to me and sobs into my shoulder. 

“I know what I need to do,” Bonnie says aloud as she stands, “I need you to grab him. T-Take him with us.”

“No, no, no, no. You can’t move him. This is a crime scene,” Liz tries denying which has me wanting to smack her. Jeremy’s dead all because of a prejudice she has.

“Mom, just let them go,” Caroline tells her mother and Liz stands up so Ric can grab Jeremy’s body.

“Okay. Alright, come here, buddy. I got you,” Ric says and I hug Jenna tighter.

—-

Bonnie sits in front of us chanting over Jeremy’s body. Candles around us burn hotter as Bonnie shakes her head, “No.”

“What? What is it,” Ric asks.

“They’re angry at me for coming back here. They don’t wanna help.”

I shake my head in denial.

  “Well, they have to.”

Bonnie looks at Jeremy with tears in her eyes, “They said there’ll be consequences.”

“Well, he’s just a kid. Tell’em to shut up.”

Bonnie continues chanting and the witch house starts to shake.

“Emily! I know you’re there. Please help me. I love him.”

Jenna, Ric, and I watch in silent horror as everything stops and Jeremy is still lifeless. Bonnie cries holding him and Jenna crawls over to her dead nephew. 

I look down at Jeremy and let out a sob of relief as I see him flutter his eyes open. 

I sigh deeply as I watch Jenna and Bonnie hug Jeremy. 

“Y/N?”

I turn to Ric who is staring at my arm, I watch as he slowly lifts his fingers and touches my shirt. I fight the urge to groan in annoyance as I look at the fresh blood on his fingers. 

“Anyone want to take me to the hospital?”

—

“OK, so it appears you’ve lost quite a bit of blood,” The doctor tells me as he tapes gauze over the gunshot wound on my shoulder. I have a gunshot wound. I was shot. What the hell?! Somehow the bullet that killed Jeremy went right through the upper part of my shoulder. 

Ric and Jenna had dropped me off about an hour ago. They insisted on staying, but I told them my mother would be here soon and they should get back to Jeremy. 

“We’re going to have to give you some blood. Do you happen to know what you’re blood type is? It appears that on your medical records, your mother and father’s blood types are listed but yours isn’t.”

I shake my head, “I’ve never had to get blood drawn before so I don’t know.” 

The doctor nods, “That’s fine. We would give you the universal donor blood but for some reason, we’ve had a shortage in blood lately,” I nod along as if I don’t know exactly why that is, “But we’ll take some of your blood and do a test then find out what your type is.”

I nod and thank him.

“We called your mother but it seems she can’t get out of work and your father didn’t answer. Is there anyone else you’d like to call to be with you?”

My heart hurts as I think about how both my parents couldn’t bother to come to see their own daughter in the hospital, “Um...no thank you. I’m alright.”

The doctor sends me a smile, but he looks almost as hurt about my parents not being here as I am. Tell me about it man. I watch silently as he takes a vial of my blood, tells me he’ll have my results soon, and then leaves. 

Great who the hell is going to drive me home?

—

I’m awoken by a small shake to my uninjured shoulder. I squint my eyes to see the doctor from before looking down at me wearily. 

At this, I try to sit up but waves of pain stop me.

“Don’t move sweetheart it’ll just rip open your stitches,” The doctor gently pushes me back down. But the look on his face makes me nervous.

“Is everything ok,” I question. 

The doctor is silent before he shows me a blood bag, “I was able to find a match for you, but… your blood type is Type B,” His tone and words confuse me. Wouldn’t he be relieved he was able to find me blood?

“I don’t understand,” I shake my head in confusion.

“I don’t know if I should be telling you this without a parent present. I could be fired,” He says to himself as if he’s fighting some internal battle. 

“Please… what are you talking about?”

The doctor places a hand on my shoulder and frowns at me, “Your mother’s blood type is Type A, and your father’s is Type O,” At the confusion still clearly on my face he sighs, “Genetically those two blood types combinations can only produce Type A and O children. So…”

My entire world seems to come down crashing on top of me as he finishes his sentence.

“You can’t be related, biologically, to your father.”

[coeurify]

I have no idea how this would fit into an storyline but I am a hoe for fake dating. Imagine fake dating with abby and it slowly becoming too real

UGH YOU GET ME FAKE DATING IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES!!

⋆˚✿˖° now, abby anderson had a problem. specifically a blonde, brown eyed loud mouthed man of a problem. owen fucking moore. she had broken up with him in the summer time, little explanation given to the ass of a boyfriend other than that she needed to “find herself.” (not that she needed to give any.)

⋆˚✿˖° but owen? oh owen didn’t accept that. so from the very moment abby had broken it off, to when the air began to smell like fall.. he pestered abby. asked for a reason, begged for another chance (despite HIM going around with damn near every girl on the WLF compound.)

⋆˚✿˖° things came to a head at a get together in one of abby and owen’s mutual friend’s apartment style quarters. mutual friend who also happened to be your roommate.

⋆˚✿˖° abby and owen fought all night, abby’s cheeks red from embarrassment and anger, eyebrows furrowed together. “why can’t you just take no for an answer owen?“ the cup in her hand crackled a bit under the pressure when the man scoffed. “because you never give me a real answer!” abby’s arms crossed at that, searching around the room. quickly, and maybe a little impulsively, she shrugged. “i’m into someone else now.”

⋆˚✿˖° owen just couldn’t accept that, his arms thrown around dramatically. “so you like another guy? that’s why you wont give me another chance? you know i can treat you better.” that sentence alone reminded abby just why she hated being with him so much, but again that fast moving brain of hers spoke before the thought could finish, finger pointing in the direction of the first person she found.. you. “it’s not a guy. it’s a girl. im not.. into your..” abby made a motion, “species anymore.” sure, it was sort of true. abby recently realized she probably had a thing for girls, but you particularly? she couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of conversations she had with. “i like her.”

⋆˚✿˖° you, who’s head poked up, mouth full of slightly stale chips, having heard the whole conversation. abby anderson, beautiful, funny, madeyouweakintheknees, abby anderson was into you? and not straight? surely not. you swallowed harshly, deciding to play into whatever game abby seemed to have set on the floor. you made your way over, an award winning smile on your face as owen’s mouth dropped open further than a damn infected. “You like her? as in girls?”

⋆˚✿˖° honestly, you probably caused more trouble when you stood near the two, “abs!” you grinned, “you forgot your jacket here.. cmere ill grab it for you.” and then your hand is wrapped around her tensed bicep, the stiffness likely caused by her pure shock you even played along. still, she used it as an out from the devil with blonde locks, shrugging almost apologetically at owen before letting you whisk her away.

⋆˚✿˖° and that night, after everyone but you and abby had stumbled out of the cramped room, which was still humid and heavy, you made the plan. with a pen that had little ink left, scratching against the water damaged pages of the notebook you tucked under your pillow, you wrote the words “project get rid of owen moore.” which ok, in retrospect sounded really bad. but you were a little tipsy.

⋆˚✿˖° the plan was easy. play the role of abby’s first girlfriend, convince owen she was totally not into him or men anymore. what did you get out of it? a spot on the top dog abby anderson’s patrol team. something you had been vying for this year. abby agreed, although a little hesitantly. she promised she had picked you only because its who her pointed finger found first. not any actual attraction. you swallowed down the hit to your ego that brought.

⋆˚✿˖° and honestly? the plan went on pretty steadily. you were a damn good fake girlfriend if you had to admit it, and abby didn’t hate being around you. in fact, she really enjoyed being around you. she enjoyed how easily your fingers reached down, tapping on her palm to fing a way to hold her hand whenever one of owen’s posey was around. she enjoyed how you leaned in whenever owen passed by, your lips on her ear, whispering anything you knew would have her smiling. a fake smile of course.

⋆˚✿˖° you two had some pretty strict rules. no kissing, no extreme touchiness, absolutely no spilling to anyone this was fake, and the most important.. no real feelings. you had come up with a backstory, one you two had studied together. (you two met in the training room after your roommate introduced you two and totally hit it off. abby got you a spot on her team next to her and manny, and feeling bloomed from there.) abby added in a few details she knew would piss owen off.. and you sealed your lips shut to follow the rules.

⋆˚✿˖° the first few weeks were easy. you liked spending time around abby. you enjoyed how she smiled, you laughed at all the jokes she cracked (for the fake dating points of course..), and you loved training with her. you had to ignore the shiver her hands on your shoulders or waist gave, knowing it was just to help your position. “you have to fix your stance if you plan on fighting scars..” abby huffed.

⋆˚✿˖° the problem started in october. a month and a half into your fake dating plan. tens of lunches spent alone together, a handful of new hair styles you begged to try on abby, and around 5 missions out of the base, in. there was a party, one you demanded the two of you go to one day as you lounged on abby’s bunk— watching as she cleaned up manny’s mess across the room. “if we dress up together, owen will totally finally get off your case,” you assured, bringing a loud sigh from the blonde. “oh my god.. fine.”

⋆˚✿˖° you went as a angel and devil, simple enough to easy stitch together some devil horns for yourself and an angel halo you found in an old broken down store in the city for abby. no way did you admit the trouble you went for to find it to abs, especially not as she easily pulled her shirt off in front of you, totally clueing you in to where the nickname came from as she shoved on the white teeshirt.

⋆˚✿˖° see, the no kissing rule was an important one, but vodka made everything seem less important, and owen was awfully loud that night, scoffing any time you smiled and leaned into your angel, head band tilting off your head, which abby fixed with a grin. “you two act more like friends than people fucking each other,” owen scoffed as he pressed by you two, the words pounding in abby’s ears over the loud mingling voices.

⋆˚✿˖° “kiss me,” abby called over the old cd that played on the speakers, her cheeks red with anger— blue eyes flicking around. “what?” you laughed, thinking back to rule number 1. “i know we said no— no kissing but i just.. oh my god just kiss me,” abby muttered, her large hands gripping your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss, one she was sure owen was watching on to. one you melted into, sucking her lip in between yours.

⋆˚✿˖° that had been a breaking point, ragged breaths and heated necks as you pulled away. it lead to more excuses with less validity being used when the two of you stared at each other’s lips. stepping down the stairs of the base, eyes catching on someone who just looked like owen. “kiss me,” abby muttered quickly, and you wasted no time to turn your head and fill your nose with the scent of pine as you leaned in.

⋆˚✿˖° the no kissing rule crossed off right before the no touchiness one did, that one had been scribbled off completely when abby began pulling you into her lap in group functions, one soft hand rubbing up against your side as she whispered in your ear, “jus’ for show.”

⋆˚✿˖° just for show of course, but you screamed into your pillow for so long that night you almost thought the walls of your room would crumble down along with the barrier you put between you and the blonde.

⋆˚✿˖° kisses and touchiness turned to nights spent in abby’s room, mornings waking up and having abby’s shirt thrown at your face. “wear that, owen got it for me when we were dating.” sure, you probably should be ashamed to be wearing the clothes of a girl who didn’t like you, but the frown on owen’s face made it worth it.

⋆˚✿˖° that last rule, the one that didn’t have pen strokes over the letters, the one locked behind awkward coughs and side glances, well you weren’t sure who broke it first. you dont know why feelings came into play, but you sure do know it happened.

⋆˚✿˖° you felt it first when abby didn’t talk to you for a few days. you saw her across the stadium with nora, her head tilted back lightly in a laugh at something the other girl said. that was the first time you felt the needle sized ache in your heart, one that only ripped further when owen shoulder checked you on his way by, “better get your girl. she slips away easily.”

⋆˚✿˖° maybe that rule had been broken when abby stormed into your room, met with the sight of you on the couch with some other blonde girl, an old tape of a southern movie mid way through when anderson scoffed and demanded the girl get out. she did so in a hurry, scrambling for her sweatshirt as a frown grew on your lips. “abby what the fuck?” you scoff, watching her eyebrows unfurrow lightly. “you can’t have other girls over! it fucks with our plan,” she accused, though she stumbled lightly over the words. “she’s just a friend, abby.”

⋆˚✿˖° however, the night you sat in your bed, breath heavy and eyes stinging as you broke through the paper with the pen, scratching over the words “no real feelings,” that came in the end of november.

⋆˚✿˖° your head was pressed into abby’s shoulder, yawning and closing your eyes as the movie played on a big sheet, a biweekly occurrence in the WLF base. abby had pressed to your cheek, placing a kiss to it that had some sort of butterfly attack take fruition in your stomach. you two didn’t even know if owen or his friends were around, and they for sure were not the reason of abby’s hand linking into yours as you two walked toward her room later that night. you both seemed to realize that when you reached her door and she leaned forward just lightly, as if to kiss you.

⋆˚✿˖° she cleared her throat, licking over the lips you wanted to capture again. “i think-” she said suddenly, squeezing her eyes closed. “i think owen really believes it now.” you could feel your heart sinking to the empty stomach that laid below your chest, knowing what came next. “i think we should break up.” abby finished, quick to add, “fake break up.”

⋆˚✿˖° you nodded along silently to the story she built still standing in her doorway. miscommunication, arguments, differing plans, the whole shebang— anything to make the breakup believable. you agreed, but the moment her door shut, a half smile and thank you sitting on her lips as the door locked, you felt the tears prick your eyes.

⋆˚✿˖° you wiped quickly at the tears, your hand slapped over the aching chest you swore betrayed you. you sucked in shallow breaths, shaky hands finding your own door as your vision went blurry.

⋆˚✿˖° as your pen broke through the white sheet of paper, you cursed your own heart. you cursed it for being so easy to rip from your chest, presented on a platter for a blonde who only saw it as a fake replica. you threw the notebook across the floor, hand slapping over your mouth so your roommate wouldn’t wake as you sobbed into it. surely you had been the only one to break that rule, but that didn’t matter now.

⋆˚✿˖° but you were wrong. not that you could know that. a five minute walk away, abby breathed out slowly as her fingers scraped though the braid she was undoing, an odd stinging pricked at the corner of her lashes. she knew she did the right thing. she knew it as soon as her lips searched for your own at her doorway tonight. so why did it feel so bad? why did her hands tremble as she pulled out her blanket and climbed under it, squeezing her eyes shut.

⋆˚✿˖° if this was all fake, why did the break up feel so real?