#I've never made anything like this before hopefully it's not shit

[mermer404]

[sceletaflores]

"Dependence Is Weakness, Darling."

pairing: older!patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: it wasn’t just the cigarettes or the lighters. it was the way you still find yourself thinking about him. patrick, with his tangled emotions and overwhelming presence, had left an inescapable mark on your life. and as much as you wished it, he wasn’t someone you could easily erase from yourself.

—or: it's been a little over twelve years since you've seen patrick zweig.

word count: 7.8k (hopefully this is long enough lol)

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex but in a loving way, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), semi-public sex (fucking in a car, you know i had to...), angst, swearing, cigarette smoking as a love language, slight mommy issues lmao, hints of mean!reader cause i still live for that shit, love confessions, rain scene cause i'm corny as hell, porn with SOOOO much plot, no use of y/n.

author's note: this might me the filthiest thing i've ever written lols. i actually DID get a couple asks for some more angsty patrick fics and ofc i love writing angst i'm just a girl i live for that shit. look at me doing what was asked of me and not just whatever i wanted! i'm a giver, what can i say. this fic was revived because of a few anon's who demanded it and i'm so glad they did. you guys got me to give this a second chance and i'm so proud of how it turned out. extra special shout out to @bii-aan-ckaa who fiercely advocated and waited very patiently for this! i'm so obsessed with you and your beautiful kind words. hope you love it! mwah xoxo.

Fifteen minutes. 

That’s how long you can stomach sitting in the sticky booth of the bar watching Patrick Zweig flirt with a woman you don't recognize across the dimly lit room. Fifteen measly minutes until you were giving your friends some lame excuse of needing fresh air and leaving the table to escape out into the alley.

It’s been a little over twelve years since you’ve seen Patrick. A little over twelve years since you turned your back on him with tears spilling down your cheeks and your favorite racket a mangled, smashed mess gripped tightly in your shaking hand as you walked out of his life forever. 

Or at least what you thought was forever, you guess you were wrong.

To put it lightly, your relationship with Patrick was…complicated. You met him the summer before you started at Stanford. He was tall with green eyes and curly hair and he was kind of an asshole but he made you laugh, so you let him fuck you anyway. At the time, you thought that was it. One really good fuck with a really hot guy you’d never see again.

You thought you were hallucinating when you saw him on the campus courts two months later, when he sauntered up to you with an unmistakable “I know what you look like naked” smirk on his face. He was just as tall and had the same green eyes and the same curly hair and was an even bigger asshole than he was before. You still let him fuck you anyway.

You never thought you’d get sucked into the storm that was whatever the fuck was going on between Art, Patrick and Tashi. Never thought that it would completely ruin your self esteem, your tennis, your everything.

You weren’t particularly close to Art or Tashi in college. Sure, you were all in the same circle. That didn’t make you best friends. Art was nice enough, but he never went out of his way to talk to you. You and Tashi were on the same team but that didn’t mean anything. You respected the hell out of her and her game, and you could tell she felt the same. Even with that respect, there was still a tiny part of you that resented her. 

She was number one, the pride and joy of Stanford, had a constant slew of brands and scouts up to her ears. It seemed like no matter how hard you worked that she would always be number one. It felt like you were always just inches behind her.

Clawing and scratching your way through the ranks since you were twelve to be second best was never the plan. Your mother made sure to remind you of that every chance she got.

Then slowly, she started beating you at more than just tennis. Patrick wanted her, it was more than obvious. At first you didn’t care, he wasn't your boyfriend. He was just a guy you fucked, he could do whatever he wanted. You were friends. There wasn’t a problem.

When you realized you knew more about Patrick than just how he worked dick, then there was a problem. 

At first, all the things you knew about him were boiled down to the vulgar little tidbits you’d notice when he fucked you. You know that he has a birthmark on his lower back. You know when he’d be close because he’d always bite your shoulder before he came. You know his favorite position was really missionary even though he told everyone it was doggy.

Knowing all that was fine.

You also know that he’s allergic to kiwi. You know that he only holds his cigarettes with his thumb and his pointer finger. You’d always know when he was nervous because he’d start tapping his fingers on his thigh. You know that when he’d listen to music he loved, that his right hand would drum along to the beat just a little bit faster than his left would.

You knew all those things because you were falling in love with him, and Patrick Zweig is not someone you fall in love with. Especially not with Tashi Duncan in the picture.

You tried your best to push it down, to pretend you weren’t hurt every time Patrick chose Tashi over you. When he’d miss your games because he was with Tashi, when he’d blow you off to go meet Tashi, when he started to stop returning your calls or replying to your texts. All things you never cared about before started slowly eating at you. You felt awful most days, holed up in your room wallowing in self-pity. Your GPA was steadily dropping as the semester went on. Even your tennis started slipping, and you lost your winning streak to a fucking scrub. When you finally cracked and broke down to your mother over the phone one night she just scoffed.

“Well what did you think would happen when you started to depend on that boy? Dependence is weakness, darling.”

Dependence is weakness. You blocked Patrick’s number that same night.

It all came to a head when he blew up at you after Tashi’s injury. Everyone was pretty shaken up about it. You’d never forget the way it buckled, the way the sharp snap rang through the court, the way she fell to the ground screaming. You’d never seen her cry before. 

Patrick found you later that night, all alone on the practice courts trying to burn the day out of your mind by serving balls till you collapsed. It was the first time he talked to you in weeks. He was pissed. Screaming at you, calling you every nasty thing he could think of, getting up in your face. It was a fucking mess. You both said some things that should have never been said, but it ended when Patrick accused you of somehow being the cause of all of it.

“You hate Tashi, fucking hate her. You wanted something like this to happen. I bet you’re just over the fucking moon that she’s finally out and you can take her place. You can finally be number one seed and you're fucking ecstatic, aren't you? You’re so fucking pathetic, so desperate for validation. Maybe if mommy paid attention to you for once, you wouldn’t be so fucking needy. You're just a sad, delusional fucking runner-up, grasping at whatever shreds of importance you think you still have.”

You stood there, stunned by his outburst, each word hitting you like a physical blow. It was insane, nothing but Patrick blowing things way out of proportion in the midst of his anger.

You wanted to scream, to deny it vehemently, but the hurt and frustration choked off your words. Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of anger and heartbreak swirling in you. Vision blurring out everything but Patrick's face twisted up with rage as he glared at you, his words lingering in the air like poison. 

You told him about your mother because you thought you could trust him. You thought he was the only person that really understood you, his dad was a piece of shit too. Him using something so delicate as material to hit you where it hurts was the last straw.

You blew up, all the things you’d been keeping bottled up for months finally boiled over in you swinging your racket down on the green concrete over and over until there was nothing left of it to break. You didn’t even look at Patrick as you walked away. You never saw him again.

You’d love to say it was also the last time you thought about him, but that would be a lie. As much as he hurt you, and as much as you hated him for it, your mind refused to let you forget him.

You still smoke Camel Blues because that was your guys’ brand, even when you should have quit years ago anyway. You still buy the same color lighter, pink. You tell yourself it’s nothing more than an easy choice, that it’s a good color. It’s not at all because you can still hear Patrick’s teasing voice in the back of your head bitching, “I can’t believe you make me use a pink lighter.” when he always forgot his and had to borrow yours. 

It’s not based on a compulsive need to be reminded of him every single time you use it. It’s just convenient, okay.

You know deep down that they were the only remnants of a past that you still couldn’t fully let go of. As much as you tried to bury those memories, they lingered, melded into the corners of your mind like stubborn stains. 

It wasn’t just the cigarettes or the lighters. It was the way you still find yourself thinking about him. Patrick, with his tangled emotions and overwhelming presence, had left an inescapable mark on your life. And as much as you wished it, he wasn’t someone you could easily erase from yourself.

Even twelve years later you’re still trying to convince yourself that dependence is weakness, that you were better off without him. But sometimes, in the quiet moments like this when the smoke curls from your cigarette and the pink lighter flickers in your hand, you wonder if he ever thinks of you, if he regrets how things ended between the two of you.

Maybe it's not that you can't escape Patrick's grip on you after all these years, it's that you just won't.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don't hear the heavy door to the bar swinging open, or the sound of gravel crunching underneath approaching footsteps.

“Holy shit,” a deep voice rings out from your right, “someone pinch me.”

Your whole body tenses, your cigarette freezing a few inches away from your lips. Something like fight or flight starts to quietly buzz beneath your skin. You’d recognize that voice anywhere, even despite the gruffer, more grown up tone that wasn’t there the last time you heard it.

Your heart’s already kicking into overdrive when you finally start to hesitantly turn your head, time almost slowing down as your eyes sweep over the alley. You kind of don’t want to believe that your luck is this shitty. That maybe it was all in your imagination, that you were thinking about him so much you were starting to hear things that weren’t really there, that he was still back in the bar feeling up that blonde girl. But it can never be that easy, and sure enough, there he is.

Patrick Zweig is standing a few feet away from you with both hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans and a wide, achingly familiar grin lighting up his face.

You’re quiet for a few long moments, completely shocked into silence. Your mind races with a million different things you want to say but can’t find the voice to. You should be causing a scene. You should be losing it, screaming, crying, throwing things, slapping him hard across his unfairly handsome face. But you don’t, too surprised to even move. 

Patrick speaks again, taking several steps towards you. “It is really you, right?” he asks, eyes wide and mouth pulling into an easy, lopsided grin. To anyone else, the laid back, carefree tone he was going for would sound genuine. You can barely pick up on the stunned, almost breathless edge lacing his words, like he also can’t believe you’re standing right in front of him.

He steps into the light shining from a dingy lamp above the door, it basks around him in a yellow orange glow.

Same eyes, same ears, same Patrick.

For years you’ve thought about this exact moment, what you’d say if you ever saw him. You lose all of that practice the closer he gets. He’s less than a foot away from you now, an expectant look on his face. He’s waiting for you to say something. 

You feel like running, like stubbing your cigarette on the pavement and making a break for the door. You already ran from him once, but old habits die hard. 

You don’t run, you refuse to take the easy way out. You’re a grown woman, you’re stronger than you were in college, you’re going to the goddamn Olympics. It’s only Patrick for Christ’s sake.

“What are you doing here?” It sounds harsher than you meant, but that’s probably for the best. He doesn’t deserve kindness from you. 

“Tennis.” Is all he says, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. Camel blues. “What are you doing here?” He parrots back, smacking the bottom of the carton, plucking the one that shakes out between his long fingers. “I’d think that Miss. Team USA would be too busy for bar crawls.”

You bristle, eyes narrowing skeptically. You can’t tell if he’s making fun of you or not. “It’s not a bar crawl,” you shoot back childishly, feeling defensive under his heavy gaze. “We’re celebrating.”

Patrick just nods, letting out a small hum in lieu of replying. He's close enough now that you can see gray strands streaked through his hair. He looks older, a few barely there wrinkles creasing his skin as he pops his cigarette between his lips. “Got a light?” he asks around the filter, holding his hand out expectantly before you even answer.

It’s still just as annoying. You roll your eyes, sighing dramatically as you fish your lighter out of your skirts pocket. You place it in the open palm of his hand, ignoring the fireworks that go off at the base of your spine when his fingers catch on your wrist as you pull away.

He mumbles out a half-assed thanks, cupping his hand around the flame to shield it from the wind. If he notices the color, he doesn’t say anything. It feels wrong that he doesn’t tease you about it, staying silent as he tosses it back to you when his cigarette finally lights. You ignore the hurt blooming in your chest as you pocket it.

Patrick takes a deep inhale, the tip of his cigarette burns bright red. The way his lips wrap around the filter has heat spreading through you. “Shocked you’re still smoking,” he waves his free hand at you vaguely, smoke flowing from his lips as he speaks. “It’s not super admirable.”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s really how you want to start this?

“Start what?” he asks coyly, leaning his shoulder too close to you against the brick. He’s playing dumb, the smirk on his face gives him away. 

You say nothing, not trusting yourself to speak. He has a beard now, sort of patchy and fairly new looking. You wrinkle your nose up at it. 

It doesn’t surprise you that he’s acting like this. All calm and collected like he’s catching up with an old friend, like he didn’t say all those horrible things to you. As if every single word he said that night isn’t still engraved in your mind and carried with you through your whole career. 

Patrick’s quiet for a bit, taking another slow drag. “Have you seen either of them?” His voice is hesitant, like he’s treading the water of your boundaries by bringing this up. “Or am I your first?” He lets the innuendo hang in the air, trying to joke his way through something neither of you really want to talk about.

You don’t look at him, keeping your eyes trained on the part of the street you can see through the alleys opening.

You don’t need to ask who “them” is.

You just shake your head no, not wanting to have to say anything out loud and make this into a whole thing. The smoke from your cigarette swirls through your lungs, warm and familiar. 

You’ve seen them both at multiple tennis events. Things like matches, and galas, and charity auctions. Hell, they watched from the stands when you won Wimbledon for the first time. You just make sure and avoid them like the plague, always running the other direction the second you see a short bob and cropped blonde hair.

You’ve been in the same room with them countless times over the years but you might as well have been in separate worlds. The only “contact” you’ve had with them since you all graduated was weirdly ominous.

Art followed you on Instagram after you got your third career slam, but he doesn’t like any of your posts. You’re one of the mere twenty accounts in his following. You never followed him back. 

Then, when your career first started taking off, the press somehow learned about your past with Tashi. They started using it to their advantage when picking headlines for any pieces written about you. “The only woman in the world to beat Tashi Duncan!” It pissed you off to no end. It was stupid, a way to get clicks on their sad little gossip sites. And it wasn’t even fucking true.

They finally stopped when you threatened to sue their asses. Apparently, Tashi noticed.

She sent you flowers. You threw them out.

Patrick nods back, taking his own slow drag. The sound of traffic hums in the background, the music from the bar bleeding through the wall mutely. 

“Congrats on that,” he says casually, looking you up and down slowly. You fight not to squirm under his gaze. “On making the team. That’s some serious shit. I always knew it’d be you, out of all of us.”

It’s a blatant lie. You were always four out of four in college, the one person in the group with the least potential for stardom. If it wasn’t for Tashi’s injury, she’d definitely be in your place — on top of the world.

He’s trying to pacify you, to butter you up. All it does is grate on your nerves and leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

“Did you just come out here to interrogate me? To mess with me?” you ask sharply, frustration starting to get the better of you. “Do you want a fucking autograph or something?”

Patrick laughs, throwing his head back. “Nope, I wanted to catch up. It's been a while.” he shrugs, eyes darkening ever so slightly. “I just know how much you like talking about yourself, that’s all.”

You pause, picking up on the clear implication of his words. “Excuse me?” you question, turning towards him.

“Just saying,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. “When we were younger everyone always thought I was this arrogant, cocky, self obsessed prick…” he trails off, an infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. It does nothing to soothe you, only adding fuel to the fire of your anger. “And they were all right, I was. But, that’s also exactly what you are right now.” he finishes, tapping the ash off his cigarette.

You feel it, all the emotions swirling inside you of at seeing Patrick again threatening to burst. Anger and misery waging a war in your stomach. The wind is starting to pick up around you, making goosebumps break out over your skin. The fabric of your skirt swishes around your thighs. You feel clammy, but it has nothing to do with the temperature drop. 

“Was?” you ask, condescending and mean, crossing your arms across your chest defensively. “You really don’t think you’re still all of those things?”

Patrick chuckles, shoulders shaking with amusement. He goes to say something, but you beat him to it. “I’ve changed, Patrick.” you say sternly, brows furrowing in displeasure. Your tone is hard, frustration seeping into your words. Considering the last time the two of you spoke, this was almost going well. It’s just like Patrick to ruin something before he needs to.

You know distantly that you could deescalate the situation, but maybe you’re more alike than you thought. Maybe you’re just too greedy to keep the peace. “So fucking sorry that I’m not the same person I was in college, but I actually chose to grow up.”

Patrick snorts, exhaling a plume of smoke through his nose. “Yeah, clearly.” he mutters under his breath, it’s condescending and sarcastic. It pisses you off.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask sharply, cigarette now forgotten and steadily burning away at your side. 

Patrick shrugs, like it’s obvious. “You’re still so lost. I sure as shit don’t have a red, white, and blue track suit hanging in my closet, but at least I know who I am.” He doesn't sound angry, only sure of himself, like he may have been thinking about this for a while. His face is passive, body relaxed as he leans against the hard brick.

Your jaw clenches, anger running hot through your veins. He doesn’t know anything about you, hasn’t for over ten years. He doesn’t have the right to try and talk down to you, not after all the hard work you put in to get to where you are.

“My wrist alone is worth ten million. What are you worth now, Patrick?” You’ll be embarrassed about bringing up status later, you always try to stay as humble as possible, but you’re too mad to care. You just need to hurt him, to hurt him like he hurt you. You’d heard from a friend of a friend that Patrick’s parents cut him off a while ago, that he’s been slumming it ever since. “I know exactly who I am, I’m a fucking Olympian.”

The venom in your tone is sharp, each word from your lips like a knife stabbing through the tense air trying to draw blood. “You’re a fucking nobody, Patrick. You’re irrelevant. Washed up. Buried. Forgotten.” You pause when your voice starts to shake, taking a deep inhale of smoke to try and calm yourself. Your hand is shaking too, ash falls from the burnt out tip down to the gravel. Patrick just watches you, his expression doesn’t change. Smoke billows from between your lips, blowing away with the wind. “We’re not on the same level, not anymore.” 

Patrick’s unfazed, staring back at you with his cigarette dangling from his lips. He takes it between his fingers, letting his arm drop to hang at his side. “I’ve been thinking about you.” he says casually, head lolling to the side lazily. He looks at you through his lashes, eyes sweeping over your face slowly. “I was just thinking about you, and now you’re here. Right fucking in front of me.” he shakes his head with a dry laugh. “You look…” he trails off, green eyes taking in every inch of you. “You look amazing.”

Your pulse flutters wildly, you feel so light headed, like you could pass out any second. “I’ve missed you, missed you everyday since that night.” His expression is that same half cocked grin from before, all smooth bravado and easy smiles as if he’s not staring at you like you’re the very blood coursing through his veins. All the air drains from your lungs, mind racing what feels like a thousand miles per second. 

He sounds like he means it. He looks like he means it. He can’t possibly mean it.

A loud chant ringing through your skull is the only coherent thing screaming through all the mess. Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fucking fall for it–

“Well I don’t miss you.” A lie. “You were nothing to me, Patrick.” Another lie. “You were just easy dick.” Your stomach twists painfully, like your body is physically trying to stop you from lying to yourself any further.

His face stays neutral, it frustrates you to no end that you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Patrick had a terrible poker face in college, you could read him like a book with a single glance. It was one of your favorite things about him, how expressive his face always was.

Now he’s just staring down the bridge of his nose at you passively, the picture of indifference. It’s another reminder of how long it’s been, that he’s lived a whole life without you in all that time. He takes a long drag off his cigarette, never breaking eye contact with you as he does.

His lips are slick and pink, just how you remember them. The beard isn’t so bad, it makes him look more rugged, more like a man. It’s the most drastic change in his appearance, far different from the smooth skinned pretty boy he was before.

He exhales, a long stream of smoke blowing past your ear. “What are you still doing here then?” he muses with a small shrug. He leans in even closer, slowly, like you were a cornered animal he didn’t want to spook. You can smell him, something woodsy with a hint of musk. You can see the clusters of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose, almost completely faded. “If I’m nothing,” he clarifies, simple, easy. “Why are you here?”

It’s a loaded question, one he obviously knows the answer to. It’s a dick move, forcing you to confront what you’re really feeling. Your eyes start to sting, complicated emotions welling up in your throat. “Fuck you Patrick.” you whisper weakly, all the bite in your tone getting lost in your dejection. Your lip wobbles warningly, you try your best to stifle it. You refuse to cry in front of him.

Patrick’s face does something funny, turning his eyes to the sidewalk. “I need someone like that again. Someone that isn’t afraid to fucking check me, that wants me to do better and not because they just see a check or a legacy or whatever the fuck else my parents expected from me. Someone that wants me to do better because they actually believe in me.”

The honesty in his voice takes you by surprise. He gets more worked up the longer he talks, chest rising and falling a lot faster than before. Rare vulnerability slipping through the cracks of his hardened exterior.  “I fucked up that night, I know. Now my life’s a fucking mess, and I need someone to help make it make sense again.“ 

You scoff thickly, shaking your head in disbelief as you fight back tears. “And I’m that person?” you ask skeptically, brow raised in question.

“You always were,” he replies easily, his face forming into a sad smile. He almost sounds like his old self. Your brain flashes the image of Patrick leaning outside the door of your science lecture, waiting to walk you back to your dorm. He’s smiling wide enough to show teeth, looking down at you with brilliant green eyes, just like he is right now.

Suddenly, he wasn’t the boy that broke your heart on a tennis court twelve years ago. 

He was the boy that held your hair back when you threw up after drinking too much at a frat party and still stayed the night even though you didn’t hook up, his chest pressed against your back like a security blanket the whole night. He was the boy that let you make friendship bracelets on the handle of his favorite racket, and secretly kept the one you made for him braided around the neck for weeks until you finally noticed the fraying blue strings still in place when he forgot his tennis bag at your dorm room one night.

Suddenly he wasn’t anything but the boy you fell in love with when you were eighteen years old.

You swallow hard, heart pounding against your ribcage. Your cigarette falls from the slack grip of your fingers, plummeting to your feet where it burns out on the pavement. 

It’s like you lose control of yourself, like all your morals get shot out of a cannon into the sun. You’re lunging forward before you know what you’re doing, fisting the fabric of Patrick’s shirt and pulling him down to meet you halfway. Your first kiss with Patrick in twelve years.

It’s a mess of teeth clashing together roughly, with way too much tongue and spit to be classified as romantic. It’s desperate. It’s angry. It’s fucking filthy and it’s exactly what you need.

Your tongue forces its way between Patrick’s lips when he gasps in shock, mapping out the familiar territory of his mouth like muscle memory. His big hands fly up to hold onto your hips as he eagerly returns your kiss, pressing you up against the brick and sucking your tongue lewdly. He tastes like smoke and bottom shelf whiskey. You moan into his mouth, wetness starting to seep through the thin material of your panties.

You stay like that for a while, just kissing until Patrick slides the hard line of his cock against your hip strategically. You moan at the size of it pressing onto you through his jeans, breaking the kiss to inhale a couple lungfuls of air. “You’re not fucking me in an alley.” You say bluntly as he trails wet kisses down the side of your throat.

He laughs, nipping at your collarbone teasingly. “My car’s a block away,” he offers between kisses.

You think about it for a second. Deciding on whether or not you’re going to let Patrick fuck you in the backseat of his car like you’re two horny teenagers and not full grown adults.

“Lead the way.” Is all you say, finally letting yourself smile when Patrick starts to drag you away from the bar. 

You shoot your friends a quick text letting them know you decided to head home early, already in the uber you ordered when you’re actually letting Patrick drag you across a blessedly empty parking lot to an old SUV parked in the middle. A completely one-eighty from the Porsche he used to drive.

He takes a second to press you against the door, capturing your lips with his again. It’s a slower kiss, sweeter than the one you shared outside the bar. You feel butterflies erupt in your stomach when he cups your face, gently rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. He fumbles blindly for the car door with his other hand, pulling it open and pushing you into the back. He follows closely, climbing in and shutting the door behind him.

Patrick’s back on you in less than a second, yanking at the buttons of your shirt impatiently, fingers too big to work them through the holes as fast as he wants to. He lets out a frustrated growl, grabbing both sides and pulling hard. The buttons all go flying in different directions, landing in different spots around you.

“That was three hundred dollars,” you mumble against his lips, not wanting to stop kissing him for even a second. He looms over you, broad and all encompassing. He sits up to yank his own shirt over his head, tossing it aside and popping open the button of his jeans.

“You can buy another one,” he says simply, shucking his jeans and boxers off all in one go. His dick is long and lovely, tip red and drooling pre-cum that drips all the way down to his balls. Your mouth waters, desperate to taste it, to feel the weight of it on your tongue and down your throat. You push it to the back of your mind. There’s no time for that, both of you too keyed up to do anything other than fuck.

Patrick leans down, biting your bottom lip hard enough to make you moan. He turns his attention to your pulling skirt down, panties going with it and getting tossed onto the floorboard carelessly. His eyes zero in on your bare pussy, wet and on display. The cool air shocks your system, making you want to press your thighs together but Patrick’s hands keep you spread open.

“Fuck,” he whispers quietly, moving to roll the knuckle of his right index finger over your slick entrance, just barely rocking it into you. You gasp, your whole body trembling with need. “Just like I remember.” He mutters to himself, pushing in the smallest bit deeper. 

Your leg kicks out, patience starting to wear thin. “C’mon, Pat.” you mewl sweetly, bucking your hips up in a clear invitation. “Fuck me.”

Patrick shifts up onto his knees, silently shuffling closer to your spread thighs. His cock juts out from his body, so thick and heavy that it doesn’t point straight up, instead hangs angry and red between his legs. His big hands slide halfway up your thighs, you shiver at the way they skirt across your skin lightly. He presses you backwards by them, leaning over you with your legs slung across his shoulders.

His cock drags across your inner thigh, trailing a sloppy line of pre-come as it does. You nearly wail, wrapping your arms around Patrick’s broad shoulders as you beg for him to give you what you want.

“God Patrick! Put it in. Please, put it in. Let me have it, please, fuck–,” you beg frantically, arms tightening around his shoulders like you’re trying to drag him impossibly closer to you. He goes willingly, burying his nose in the soft skin of your neck. He presses a small kiss directly over your pulse.

“I’m gonna give you this cock, baby.” he whispers lowly, hot lips brushing against your skin with every word. He slides the head of his cock through your wet folds, stopping to rub it over your swollen clit a few times. “Gonna get all up inside you and fuck you exactly how you like.” He slides the length down, letting his tip catch on your empty, clenching hole.

You’re so damn worked up, writhing and pushing back and begging Patrick to just fuck you already, that you can’t take anymore teasing. Your hole contracts around the tip of his dick like it’s trying to suck him in. He sinks in deeper, slowly feeding every thick inch into your aching cunt.

“God,” Your name falls from his lips in a shuddery breath that fans over your fluttering pulse. “You still smell the same.” It’s the same stunned, breathless tone from when he first saw you. He presses his face cheek to cheek with yours, the rough texture of his beard scraping against your skin. 

Patrick moves his hips against you slowly, deep strokes that drag every thick inch of him against the walls of your cunt. The tip of his cock stabbing that sweet spot inside you that makes stars glow bright on the ceiling of his car each time you blink. The angle has his balls pressing against your cunt as he fucks into you, the excessive pre-come leaking from his tip mixing with the sticky wetness of your juices leaves an obscene ring of creamy white around the spread hole of your cunt. It sticks wetly to the base of Patrick’s cock with each thrust, shining back at you on his skin when he pulls out.

The slow thrusts feel amazing, but you know it’s not enough. You need him to pound into you, to bully his big cock into your cunt like he’s getting back at you for shutting him out. You need him to fuck you. 

“Harder, Pat…” you whine breathlessly, clawing desperately at the polyester seats.

He groans loudly, hips immediately speeding up, getting rougher, meaner. He leans up to get more power behind his thrusts, breaking your tight hold on his shoulders. “This is where you belong,” he grits out, sweat dripping from his forehead to fall onto your heaving chest. The sharp smack smack smack of his hips bruising your ass gets louder, the lewd noise filling the car. “Where you should have been this whole fucking time, spread open on my cock.”

The only thing you can even get out anymore are pleading whines and loud moans of Patrick’s name as he pounds into you like he’s trying to kill you. The harsh snap of his hips inching you further up the backseat until your head’s knocking against the doors handle on each mean thrust. Your feet bounce by his ears, body almost completely folded in half so all you can do is lie there and take it.

The car rocks steadily, anyone who spares a glance at the SUV will know what’s going on inside. 

Patrick sneaks a hand between your legs, fingers sliding over your swollen clit. You scream, throwing your head back in pleasure as the calloused tips over his fingers work you over. “Fuck yeah,” Patrick mutters, turning his head to lick and bite at your ankle. “You’re so fucking sexy, so fucking beautiful. I missed you so much, missed this pussy.” His voice is pinched, hips fucking into you impossible faster.

The wet squelching noise of your cunt is filthy, splattering against Patrick’s heavy balls with each thrust. “I know she missed me too, didn’t she baby?” he taunts, eyes wild and blown out. “Taking my cock so well, squeezing me so fucking good.”

“Close,” you gasp out. Patrick pitches forward, licking into your parted lips as he rubs tight circles over your clit faster. He kisses you sloppily, smearing spit all over your lips and chin. His sweat drips onto your face and mixes with your own, it should be gross, but it makes you even wetter. The primal part of your brain overjoyed to be claimed by him. He lifts his fingers up the tiniest bit, smacking them over your clit with the smallest amount of force.

Your orgasm hits you suddenly, back arching off the seat wildly as you gush around his cock. You claw at his back desperately, nails raking down his skin hard enough to leave angry red welts in their wake.

“Shit– that’s good, milk it out of me baby, work for this fucking load.” he groans, hips not slowing down as he chases his own release. His breath puffs over your skin, the rhythm of his hips starting to falter the closer he gets. You whine, trying your best focus on clenching your cunt over his cock in your fucked out state. “That’s it, baby– God – you’re gonna make me come, squeezing me so tight I can barely fucking move…” he growls, teeth sinking into your neck hard.

You hiss sharply, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure starts to become too much. He licks over the bite mark, like he’s apologizing. “Gonna fucking come inside you, fill you up so good, fuck–”

His rambling dissolves into a loud groan, hips giving one last thrust as he buries himself as deep in your cunt as he can. You feel rope after rope of warm come flood your insides, painting your walls with it. It feels like hours, him unloading into you with cut off moans and grunts. 

You're still desperately trying to catch your breath when he finally starts to pull out of you as gently as he can. The red tip of his cock popping free lets the river of his come leak out from your abused hole, spilling out of you to drip onto the car’s seat.

Patrick curses at the sight, scooping the white, creamy mess onto his fingers so he can fuck it back into you. You hiss at the over stimulation, thighs squeezing together around his hand. Your chest is still heaving, breathing erratic as you slowly come down from your orgasm. Patrick tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, smiling warmly as he takes you into his arms and shifts around until he’s sitting up against the door with you curled into his chest.

The windows are steamy, melting all the streetlights outside into a swamp of warm colors on the glass. They shine through the car like sunlight piercing through a stained glass window. You feel light and hazy, like you’re in a dream. Patrick’s body grounds you, firm and familiar against your back. It’s quiet for a long time, only the sound of soft breathing fills the car. You're scratching your nails through the hair on Patrick’s chest when he finally breaks the silence.

“There’s…” he says into your hair, trailing off near the end. He’s idly tracing shapes on your lower back. A circle, a square, a circle, a diamond, a square, a heart. “There’s this challenger in New Rochelle in a couple weeks, I’m entering it. You should come.” 

Your heart drops, the delicate cloud encompassing you and Patrick forcefully ripped away in less than a second. You’ve already heard of this challenger, seen all the publicity it’s been getting since Art’s name came up in the conversation surrounding it. The ‘Phil’s Tire Town Challenger’ is all anyone can talk about. 

If Art’s there, she will be too. Sitting in the stands in a classy Ralph Lauren two piece, watching her husband and Patrick on the court, looming over the two of them for the first time in years. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing her. You can’t stomach the thought of Patrick seeing her, terrified that the second she spares him a glance you’ll be right back where you were in college, an afterthought left in the dust for something better.

Your stomach lurches violently, you feel nauseous. The heat of Patrick’s backseat becomes almost unbearable, making it harder to breathe. You rip yourself away from him, tearing through the backseat to find your clothes. 

Patrick startles, sitting up with a concerned look on his face. “Jesus, what's wrong?” You can feel the warmth of his hands hovering over your back, not sure if he should touch. “What did I do?”

You don’t say anything, you can’t. Your throat feels tight, chest constricted and heavy as you try to take in lungfuls of air. You tug on your skirt and panties haphazardly, grabbing the first shirt you find strewn across the car's floor and yanking it on. You know it’s not yours but you don’t care, too busy trying to shove your shoes back onto your feet and push open the door all at once.

Patrick questions you the entire time, voice confused and insistent as you tumble out into the parking lot. The cool air feels like a life jacket, the smell of rain fills your nose as you try to steady your erratic breathing. You’re still trying to tug your right shoe on as you start to speed walk away from his car.

You can hear the sound of feet slapping behind you on the pavement as you walk. A strong hand wraps around your bicep, whipping you around. Patrick only has his pants on, shirtless and barefoot in his haste to catch up with you.

“What the fuck are you doing? What’s wrong?” He sounds genuinely concerned, his eyes searching your face closely. It makes tears burn hot at your waterline, blurring your vision and falling to trickle down your cheeks when you try to blink them away.

“This was a mistake, Patrick.” your voice is thick with emotion, you try to wrench your arm out of his grip. He doesn’t let go, not squeezing tight enough to hurt but to try and keep you in place. You need to leave, to get as far away from Patrick as you can before you’re in too deep. “Please, let go.” Your voice is small, shaky and weak and so unlike you. The panic from the car is still wrapped around you, growing tighter every second you spend with him.

Patrick shakes his head wildly, raindrops slowly start to fall onto his bare shoulders. “No, fuck no! We can talk about this. We just need to talk–”

“Patrick stop!” Your voice cracks embarrassingly, loud and desperate as you double your efforts to free your arm. “Please just let me go!”

You don’t know if it’s the way you said it or the look on your face, maybe it’s a bit of both, but something makes Patrick let you go. Dropping your arm from his grip and letting his own hang limply at his side.

Rain starts to come down all around you, large drops hitting your skin and soaking the cotton of your shirt. You let yourself meet his eyes, they're sad in a way you’ve never seen before. The green turned dull and lifeless. It looks wrong on him.

When you can’t stand the hurt look on his face any longer, you leave. Walking away deeper into the rain, small puddles splashing up around your shoes with every step. You hope Patrick doesn’t follow you, that he lets you go. You’re doing him a favor by making the choice for him, it’s easier this way.

“You know, I think I really loved you.” He calls from behind you as the rain really starts to pick up. His voice almost gets swallowed by the thunder, you wish it would have. 

Against your better judgment, you look back. Patrick hasn't moved, still standing in the middle of the parking lot. The rain is making his hair stick to his forehead, starting to seep into the denim of his jeans to darken the gray. 

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, voice tiny and pathetic. Patrick probably couldn’t even hear you over the wind whipping through the air. He stares back at you, there's too much distance for you to see the look on his face. You turn on your heels and keep walking.

It’s nostalgia in its sickest form, the dark familiarity of the situation washing over you with the rain as you walk away from Patrick again. Ignoring every call of your name and desperate pleas for you to come back is new, you can’t tell if it hurts more or less than the silence of last time.

You wrap your arms around yourself, tears mixing with the trails of rain running down your cheeks. It’ll make it easier to convince yourself later on that you weren’t really crying, that it was just the rain. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and this will all be behind you. Patrick will be fine, he doesn’t really love you. In a few weeks he’ll go to the challenger and forget all about you. 

You hear your mothers voice ring out in the back of your head as you walk.

"It's for the best, my love. Dependence is weakness."

You hope to God that she's right.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

a best friends to lovers trope with eddie where he goes to reader about every date, hookup etc for her advice which she sadly provides. that is until she sets a boundary with the excuse that she’s tired of constantly helping him like this (but also because she’s in love with him and it hurts)

happy ending please (or not) do what you want and i hope this helps 🩷🩷

May I request a fluffy Eddie piece where reader had a long day and she quite literally collapses in Eddie's lap cause she's so tired, and her head is in his lap and he's stroking her hair cause he's so in love with her??

Combined these two requests because I thought it would be cute. You'll see ❤️🥰

Request by anon.

❤️

"Do you think Sammy will like this shirt?" Eddie asks worriedly. He's holding up another band shirt and you nod, feeling the familiar ache inside of you.

It happens every time Eddie has a date. To Eddie you were his official advice giver, he asked you for help with every date he had and it ranged anywhere from what to wear, to what flowers he was to get, to kissing etiquette on a first date.

Dutifully you answered every query and worry but over the last few months, it has been tiring. It's been difficult to separate your feelings for Eddie and act like him going on dates isn't killing you inside.

The pressure was too much and you can't hear any more about Sammy or Tina or Anna or whoever he's dated in the past couple of months. You don't want to be selfish as he's your best friend but if you don't say something then you'll just get even more upset and withdrawn inside.

"Eddie, stop. Stop please I can't do this anymore. We need to have some boundaries" Eddie stills and gazes at you stunned. He literally looks like a deer in headlights and you feel so bad but this has to be done.

"What's wrong princess?" he sounds so concerned and your heart aches even more that you have to do this.

"I'm so in love with you and I can't do this anymore, I can't. It's killing me inside because I so desperately want to be with you but you don't feel the same and I have to hear about all of your dates when I know you would never feel that way about me, ever"

It all comes out in a big rush and by the time you've taken a breath, Eddie looks stunned.

"Uh, I... Shit" he gasps out and you feel absolutely humiliated. Fuck. What if you've ruined everything with Eddie.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I have to go" you rush out before he can say anything else.

❤️

You're going to stay in your room forever and not see anyone. It's the only way that you could get over confessing your biggest secret.

Now Eddie would be on his date and what if he had a problem and felt like he couldn't turn to you because you made everything so awkward. So you were staying right here and hopefully after some time everything would be okay.

You would face Eddie tomorrow. Unfortunately for you Eddie has other plans. There's a knock on your window and Eddie is sitting outside on the slate of your roof.

Panicking that he might fall you rush to get the door open and he tumbles inside. He gets to his feet and smiles impishly, all dimples. God you loved him.

"Hi Eddie, uh how was the date?" Oh real smooth you idiot. Ask him that after you blew up at him. Eddie blushes and ducks his head shyly.

"There was no date, sweetheart, I've been thinking about what you said and I can't believe that the girl of my dreams is in love with me"

"Sweetheart, I never thought you'd ever be interested in me. So I dated and shit, hoped I'd forget you but that's impossible" he caresses your cheek and rests his forehead against yours.

When his lips meet yours for your first kiss, you feel like you're in heaven, you can't believe that this is happening.

"Would have saved a lot of heartache if you just told me that Eddie" you point out and his cheeks darken.

"I know princess but if you give me a chance then I will make it up to you, I promise. What do you say?"

Pleased you nod, "Okay" he's beaming at this point and presses his lips you yours again.

"Get ready for Eddie Munson's guide to wooing, will sweep you off your feet baby" he winks and you roll your eyes giggling at his antics. Idiot.

But now he was your loveable idiot.

❤️

Six months later

Geez you were so tired. It had been a busy day at Family Video and you were so tired, like you could barely keep your eyes open because you were so sleepy.

Some of the customers had been trying on your patience today and you had a headache on top of being so tired.

Steve had dropped you off at Eddie's and all you wanted to do was cuddle up with your adorable boyfriend. Eddie cuddles healed all (at least in your opinion)

When you head inside and straight to Eddie's room he's waiting up for you and pats his knee so you collapse on it and feel the tension leave your body for the first time today.

"Ugh, today was shit" you moan as Eddie softly strokes your hair, his big brown eyes gaze down at you lovingly. The love in his eyes always took your breath away, you couldn't believe that Eddie loved you this much.

It mirrored how much you loved and adored him.

"Oh, my princess, you want me to run you a bath? We could watch The Princess Bride and eat the cookies that Max baked for us?" that sounds so nice but for now you just want Eddie to hold you.

"In a bit babe, can we just stay like this for a little bit longer" he agrees with this and continues stroking your hair softly.

"As you wish"

❤️

[loganwritesprobably]

– Law with the 1° genre, prompt (l.) ✨

Law is a character I have a lot of fun writing, even though I've never actually seen him on screen (I think I've consumed the anime in the weirdest way possible). Just love him. I also love this trope

This ended up being kind of long

Find the prompt list here

Content/Warnings: Law/GN!Reader, fluff, one bed, suggestive, friends to lovers, getting together, first kiss, Law has a nightmare

You were a Heart Pirate, a friend to your Captain and all your crewmates. You loved sailing, and being a pirate, you loved the Polar Tang and having one of the healthiest crews on the sea. You also loved Captain Trafalgar Law. You didn't mean to end up in this position, and yet here you were, with a huge crush on the one guy who was totally off limits. Probably anyway, you hadn't exactly asked where he stood on the entire thing.

You hopped onto the dock of the island you'd arrived at, planning to spend a few days on land. You needed to stock up, and Law was on a mission for information. That meant staying away from the Polar Tang for a while. A couple of crew members remained inside the sub, and once everyone was out, sailed away to keep it out of few. It was late, and pitch black, which would hopefully mean nobody would suspect you were pirates.

Since it was late, everyone was headed to the two inns on the island, splitting between them to increase chances of finding the information that you wanted.

When you arrived at the inn with Law, Bepo, Shachi and Ikkaku, Law set about getting rooms for everyone. You stepped in beside him at the front desk, stood shoulder to shoulder, while Bepo, Shachi and Ikkaku stood behind you both, rubbing their eyes and yawning, their exhaustion clear.

Law took the three keys you'd been given, two rooms to be shared and one solo room.

"Bepo snores! He can go on his own." Shachi protested, taking one of the keys for himself.

"I do not! .. Do I?" Bepo asked, taking another key for himself.

"Sorry big guy.. I'll get in with you Shachi." Ikkaku said, leaning heavily against her friend and nearly knocking him over.

"Looks like I'm with you then, Cap." You said, and you certainly weren't unhappy with that arrangement.

Bepo found his room first, heading in and locking the door behind himself. Then Shachi and Ikkaku found theirs, and headed inside with softly mumbled 'goodnight's. You and Law were last, and he headed in first, making a beeline for the bathroom. You closed the door behind yourself and locked it, setting the room key on a side table.

You ventured deeper into the room, only for your heart to drop when you made a key discovery: there was only one bed. Bepo had taken the wrong key, and gotten one of the rooms with twin beds. At least the bed was a double, silver linings you guess.

Law shuffled out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing just sleep pants, and no shirt. He had been about to say something to you when he saw exactly what you had.

"Shit." He muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. There was no sofa in the room, and you'd not really brought anything with you to sleep on if you were going to sleep on the floor. The bed was, realistically, the only option.

"Yeah." You mumbled in agreement.

"Bepo falls right asleep too, we couldn't get him to swap if we tried." You could only nod. It was true. You'd considered that already.

"Guess we're sharing." You said, finally walking away from the bed to use the bathroom for yourself. Suddenly worried about your hygiene, you decided to take a quick shower, careful not to get your hair wet. You got out, brushed your teeth and dried off before changing into your sleep clothes. You couldn't put off the inevitable any longer though, so you stepped out of the bathroom to find Law just sitting on the bed, polishing his sword.

You put your clothes from the day into your bag, and went to sit on the other side of the bed to Law, assuming that was where you'd be sleeping. You untucked the duvet from beneath the mattress, fluffed the pillow, and silently lay down. Law set aside his sword, and did the same on his own side of the bed, still distinctly lacking a shirt. Fuck.

You lay facing the wall, away from Law, your heart beating rapidly. You didn't dare turn to see what he was doing himself, just closing your eyes. Thankfully, you were exhausted, and so you didn't lay awake and anxious for long.

-·–·-–-·–·-

When you woke the next morning, after some particularly tantalising dreams about the man sleeping beside you, you opened your eyes to discover the man in question was now facing you, and you were facing him. His lips were slightly parted, and he looked.. peaceful. You couldn't help admiring the sight, even if it felt wrong to watch him sleep. You'd thankfully not woken up cuddling, like some sort of cliche, so eventually you managed to convince yourself to get up and head to the bathroom.

You washed your face in cold water, calming yourself down after your dreams, and waking up beside the man who'd been in your fantasises in months. You took a few deep breaths before returning to the room feeling more steady than before, to find Law still asleep. Should you wake him? He looked so peaceful, and he was always so exhausted. You were sure everything would be fine, you'd wake him before noon, or if the crew came knocking.

Slowly, carefully, you collected a book from your bag and returned to the bed, not wanting to wake Law. You slipped beneath the sheets, and got comfortable, opening your book to where you'd left off last. You managed to read for an hour before Law began to grumble and shift. You looked at him for a moment, and when he didn't stop, you reached out to rest a hand on his arm, hoping to gently wake him.

That didn't work.

He shot up, eyes wide and breathing rapid. He struck out as if to hit you, but thankfully you were just slightly faster than him, having the advantage of having been awake for over an hour already. You gently moved his hand to rest in his lap, hesitating for a moment before you rested a hand on his back.

"Want me to take a walk and let you chill out here for a while?"

"No-" he rasped, hand reaching out again, but this time he gripped your wrist tightly, as if you'd disappear if he didn't hold on.

"Okay. I'll stay here Cap." You confirmed, but he didn't let you go. He couldn't. A few silent minutes passed where Law's breathing slowly evened out, and you patiently waited.

"We can talk about it, if you want." You offered, when he finally released you, treading carefully so you didn't unsettle him again.

"Not really." Law replied, rubbing his eyes to get the sleep from the corners. No wonder he was always so exhausted. You wanted to know what it was that'd upset him so much, but if he didn't want to tell you then you wouldn't press him.

Law got up out of bed and headed to the bathroom, cleaning up like you already had, and you took the chance to change into your day clothes so you were ready to go whenever Law wanted to set off.

He returned after a few minutes, looking more composed, but still exhausted. You wanted to help, to ease his discomfort and take away whatever was hurting him. That wasn't your place.

"I have nightmares too, sometimes." You said into the silence of the room, perched on the edge of the bed. Law paused his movements, surprised by your words, then continued digging through his bag for his stuff.

"About what I've lost, and everything I have now, and how easy it is to lose that too. Nobody is invincible." You continued, hoping it would at least help Law feel a little less alone.

"You dream about losing us?" He asked, looking toward the main door to the room rather than at you.

"Yeah, pretty regularly actually. You guys are my family, I don't know what I'd do without you." He nodded and slipped back into the bathroom to chance into his day clothes. He returned, only missing his hat, which you tossed to him for him to put on.

"Hey, you don't have to worry about losing us, you know. I won't let that happen to any of us." Law said, but his expression said everything.

"Then why do you worry about it?" You asked, and Law once again stopped stock still. You were going to give him a heart attack if you weren't careful.

There was a long pause then, longer than the others, and you watched Law open and close his mouth repeatedly, trying to find the words that he needed to defend himself, or at least something smart to say, but he kept coming up fruitless.

He walked over to sit beside you on the bed, licking his lips. His eyes remained focused on the ground as he hooked his ankle with your own, and then reached out and took your hand to lace your fingers together.

"It doesn't matter if I worry, I'm the Captain, it's my job. But I care if you worry, I don't want you losing sleep over us." He told you, voice impossibly soft, like you'd never heard it before.

"It's not your job. It's your job to trust us, and believe we can work together as a team to all stay safe. But the worry will never go away, we'll probably all always worry because of everything we've been through before we met." You replied, gently squeezing his hand. Your heart fluttered in your chest when he returned the gesture.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked suddenly, and a part of you was sure you were still dreaming. Surely he hadn't just asked that?

"What?" You asked dumbly, and Law laughed softly. He'd watched your pupils dilate, he knew you were interested, you were just stunned.

"I dreamt about you specifically. About losing you. Can I kiss you? I just.. want to be sure you're really there."

You had never been able to say no to your captain.

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable

[xanticore]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘

Part two

Genre: angst

Setting: early 2000s ,, L.A.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and drug addiction. Sex addiction. lots and lots of cursing. he cheats. (the horror) slight mentions of suicide. slight grammar errors im writing this at 3 am.

Summary: Jungkook was always one to have his anger get the best of him...that was only because of the amount of drugs and alcohol he abuses in his daily life. When you first met him, you knew he had personal problems but he never discussed those things with you. One night after a show, you wanted to talk about his habits and something snapped in him. You don't know if you're able to even look at him again.

Rockstar!Jungkook - he sings and plays guitar.

Jungkook had some problems...mentally. And you knew it, and so did his band mates. You were the type to try and ignore it and see the good in him for the most part. Certain times, Jungkook was definitely a good boyfriend to you. He would buy you expensive bouquets, new clothes, and even jewlery; but that was all during a time where he was sober. You don't know what happened to make him relapsed and you honestly tried to retrace your steps.

It gotten so hard on you, to the point Jaehyun, his bandmate that plays drums, had to remind you countless times that none of this wasn't your fault. You couldn't help but still have it on your mind though.

Kook distanced himself from you and he rarely ever calls you. You tried to call him but you would always hear that he was either unavailable or worse, just a dead line- no one would even pick up. Overthinking with such a guy like him was inevitable. You didn't know what he was doing because you couldn't even get a hold of him. You tried your best to let him be an adult and let him just comeback on his own; but that never worked out in the end.

So you decided to take matters into your own hands. Jaehyun contacted you that they would be during their last show of their tour in downtown L.A. at the metal club. You we're excited but very disappointed in how Jungkook didn't tell you but someone else did. You shrugged it off and made your way towards the club.

The show went on as planned and they performed- in a sense good. The other members were flawless with their instruments but you noticed that Kook wasn't doing so well. It was unusual for him to even slip up a riff. You sighed already could tell he had some alcohol in his system. It was even obvious in his singing. You looked over at the bassist and the other guitar player-Yugyeom and Eunwoo. The two seemed to take notice of Jungkooks performance and how it can affect the rest of the members and song all together.

Luckily, the show went on and managed to have the crowd cheering and screaming. You went backstage and waited for them to come out. Each member greeted you with a warm smile and Jaehyun stopped for a moment.

"You noticed?"

"Yeah...he's drunk. He was already in a shit mood ever since this morning. When he sees you, hopefully that sour attitude changes."

Jaehyun said before shaking his head. "If he does anything to you..let me know. Ok?" You nodded at his request and that nearly had your hair on your arms sticking up. At last Jungkook came off stage already having a beer bottle in his hand. He saw you and just rolled his eyes which you was taken aback by that action of his. "What are you doing here (name)?" He said nonchalantly, as if he didn't wanted you there in the first place.

"Jaehyun was nice enough to tell me you were doing your last tour stop here. Ughh Kook, you fucking reek of alcohol-"

Jungkook just chuckled and took a swig of his beer. "And this? can we talk about how you just relapsed out of nowhere and how you never return my calls? You've been so distant with me lately." You snapped at him as you watched him, carelessly drink his drink. "I've been busy-"

"Drinking and doing coke isn't being 'busy' you need serious help Jungkook and your band mates is slowly getting sick and tired of your behavior and so am I!"

"I don't fucking care what they think. I'm living my best fucking life as much as possible trying to keep myself fucking happy in this world!"

"So doing this is your solution?!"

"Yeah. Drugs, beer, a good fuck with a girl who isn't bugging me 24/7 trying to get in contact with me"

That was it. You froze for a moment and all the color on your face has drained as your heart sunk. Jungkook still didn't realize what he said. You watched him throw away the bottle, taking out a cigarette and lighting it with his lighter afterwards. You didn't have the energy to even comment on it but you were more worried about his wellbeing.

"Why? just....just why are you trying to kill yourself like this?" You said trying to not choke up on your words.

"Im tired. I kinda do wanna sleep." Kook replied, exhaling the nicotine. "also I wanna get away from you. i'm sick of you..."

im sick of you

im sick of you

You couldn't help but repeat those harsh words over and over. You couldn't tell if the alcohol or drugs were talking or Jungkook himself. He still had no reaction to what he said but you was already too weak to even argue with him. You felt tears roll down your cheeks and heard a sigh coming from him. "Look, I gotta go. I can't be here while you're crying like this-"

He walked passed you so carefree. He didn't even bother to look back as he walked down the hallway. After that, you knew it'll be the last time you talked with him. You felt like he didn't need you so why should you continue to care.

You left the club alone without your boyfriend that you once cherished and cared about.

Extra: 6 months later. Jungkook was in rehab in a therapy session. Told in Kooks pov.

I was in my therapy session and I told my therapist about my problems I had with the things I do. I've been told things that I regret saying to my girlfriend. I was just too upset with everyone and high off my fucking mind to the point she stopped all contact.

I wanted to go back to my habits again but that would only cause me more unwanted trauma. I was still in denial after what Jaehyun told me. I seriously don't remember anything from that night...and it pisses me off.

After receiving the news I've gotten from my brother, my whole world crashed and I wanted a way to get out of here. I couldn't bare just being here I was mentally and physically exhausted with my life. Nothing was making me happy and touring definitely didn't help. I grew an unhealthy addiction with sex. I had sex with many woman not caring in the slightest I was taken. Not caring I had someone worried about me back at home.

I really loved (name)...I really did. In the beginning; I tried my absolute hardest to stay away from the dark. She was my light.

"It seems you wasn't ready..."

"I wasn't. I wish I could go back in time and changed everything."

a/n : Yay or nah? Lowkey was in my feelings but i wanted to write angst.

dividers: cr to owners

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Best friends brother! Ethan sexting and sending nudes?

I've never written anything like this, so hopefully it doesn't suck🙃

Gimme - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Part 2

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Your best friends brother wants you to give him special attention through the phone.

A/N: eeeek hopefully I didn't bomb this. Let me know what you guys think!

You and Quinn were sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phones. After a while of liking all your friends’ photos and watching the occasional funny video, a message from Ethan popped up on your phone.

Ethan: Come Over

You: Can’t. Your sister’s at my house🙄

Ethan: But I have something I need your help with

Your eyes bulged as the image of him popped on the screen. His hand wrapped around his erect cock was making you wet.

You: Fuck🤤

You: How do you expect me to help you with that when your sister is right here

Ethan: What would you do if you walked in on me jacking off?

You: I’d pull your hand away and use my mouth instead

Ethan: Would you let me fuck your face?

At this point, your panties were definitely soaked. You thought back to the time he was having a really bad night, and you were trying to relieve some of his tension. The way your eyes watered as he thrusted himself into your mouth regularly playing on repeat in your head.

You: Yes

You: Until you shoot your cum down my throat

Ethan: Fuck, I wish you were here

Ethan: You know how much I love eating your pussy

You: Stopppp 😫

You: I can’t even touch myself right now

Ethan: Just go into the bathroom and take some nudes for me

Ethan: I want to see you

So that’s what you did. Quinn was too invested in the conversation she was having with her newest “Friend” that she didn’t even look up when you said you’d be back in a minute.

Once you had the bathroom door locked, you started taking your clothes off. You snapped pictures as you shed each article of clothing, before sitting on the counter to get a shot of you rubbing your fingers on your clit. You almost forgot to send them as your fingers moved faster.

Ethan: Baby?

You: Shit, sorry

You send him the photos, your hands shaking as you felt the pleasure building inside you.

Ethan: Would you rather have my fingers on you?

A quiet moan left your mouth as you read the message, thinking about his hands all over the parts of your body you needed him the most.

You: Yes

You: I’m so close

Ethan: Me too, those pictures of you are so fucking hot

You were teetering on the edge of your orgasm when you heard Quinn yelling for you.

You: Your sister is always cockblocking even when we aren’t together🙄

Ethan: I’ll sneak out later and come to your house after she comes home

Ethan: It’d be a shame to miss out on hearing those noises you make when you cum😏

You: I can’t wait

You jumped up, quickly putting your clothes back on. Once you made it back to your room, she’s grabbing her stuff to leave.

“I have a dick appointment. Cover for me if anyone asks if I’m here,” she said, walking out of your room.

“Have fun!” you yelled after her, as you pulled out your phone to text Ethan.

You: She’s leaving, come over

Ethan: Be there in a few😘

[mazeinthemiroh]

the worthy type.

yunho x best friend! reader

genre: fluff, hurt / comfort, romance, best friends to lovers

word count: 1.7k

warnings: cursing, reader has insecurities

synopsis: best friends didn't look at each other the way yunho looked at you. but you found it hard to believe that he could ever be interest in you. but oh how wrong you are...

author's notes: so i know it's been a hot minute since i've posted, well, anything. but hopefully this fic will redeem that fact? let me know your thoughts and ummmmmmm yeah! enjoy my sweetums <3333

There's a lot to be said about the way Yunho looked at you.

It was always with interest. With intent. There was some sort of motive behind his gaze and, when you looked back, you would try and figure out what his thoughts were. But, you were only faced with the tingling feeling in your cheeks as they heated up at the sight of his adoring grin.

You both had been friends for a while. More than friends, really. Close friends. Closer than most, and people found that odd. Lots assumed you were dating, and you would be lying if you said you never thought: "Yeah, why the fuck are we not dating?"

But alas, you continued in your closeness with him, grinning at each other from across the room, whispering jokes in inappropriate circumstances, cackling at each other's witty remarks so that strangers who passed by would mutter 'They're so damn loud.' Stuff like that, and you felt yourself falling.

But there was something holding you back.

"Want some ice cream?" San held out a delicious tub of Ben and Jerry's that he was more than ready to dig into.

"Nah, I'm good thanks," you turned it down, staring at your phone in a bit of a daze.

It wasn't unusual for you to hang around the dorms of the Ateez members. You were all friends there, and they liked to spend time with you when they got the chance.

"So," San scooped a bit of ice cream up into his spoon, elegantly swirling it around as if it were art, "you and Yunho..."

You felt yourself roll your eyes.

"'Me and Yunho' what?"

San shrugged, a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips.

"I don't know... when are you gonna get with him?"

You blinked at him and sighed loudly, "I don't know what you're on about."

San didn't look amused, now digging into more of the ice cream. He remained silent, which unnerved you.

"Don't you think that if," you hesitated, before continuing, "if something was going on between me and him, something would've happened by now? Like... we would be together already? That's how I see it."

"That's not how I see it," San replied, not bothering to look up from the ice cream tub this time.

"The way I see it," he started, "is that you both have been friends for a long time and neither of you want to cross that boundary of 'something more.'"

There was a dull feeling of insecurity that slowly bubbled up inside of you. You tried to gulp that feeling down with water, but it remained there.

"He doesn't find me attractive, San," you said plainly. "That's it. I'm not his type, and that's that."

You shrugged, but ended up turning your head away to avoid San's gaze, in case he saw any tears that started forming in your eyes.

"You shitting me right now, Y/N?" San stabbed his spoon in his ice cream, and made his way over to you, plopping himself down next to you on the sofa so he could look at you better.

You looked down, suddenly filled with self-loathing. You were never made to feel special. Never made to feel worthy of attention or love. People have told you all your life you didn't look good enough, and at a certain point, that type of thing starts to play with your mind.

"There's no way in hell I'm his type, San."

"Listen-"

"No, you listen to me! Look at the people you work with, San. The people in the industry, the idols who look so perfect. They have the perfect, ideal bodies, faces, skin, proportions. Everything." You sounded exasperated; emotionally exhausted. It sounded like you wanted to get all this off your chest. San listened to every word, of course.

"So why, out of all these perfect people, would he choose me?"

San frowned, his eyes narrowing and his head shaking. He listened to you vent, but he wasn't happy. His tone remained soft but firm:

"Ask him."

You licked your lips. "What? No way."

"Ask him what his type is, Y/N. Ask him."

You remained silent as he made his way off the sofa, stretching slightly as he did so.

"You think you know what he likes? You think he's not attracted to you? Ask him."

And with those words, he was gone, leaving you to dwell over the whole conversation, arms crossing over your chest.

Your lunch breaks consisted of travelling all across tone just to meet up with Yunho. It was once every week, to be fair. But it was a commitment you were willing to stick to, despite the slight inconvenience in travel. It wasn't inconvenient if it meant you got to spend time with him.

You scolded yourself for thinking in such a hopelessly romantic way, but it was true. Romance or not, he made your week. One hour of coffee or walking around the river or random street food lunches to share with each other. Whatever happened, it was always fun and memorable, because it was with him.

You both sat on a bench overlooking the river. It was a chilly autumnal day, and your fingerless-gloved hands grasped the warm cup of coffee tightly. Yunho's legs were outstretched and folded; this way, you could admire their impressive length of them without seeming like a complete weirdo.

"It was funny," you racked your brain trying to search for ways to sneak the ultimate question casually into a conversation with your best friend, "me and San were talking about what kind of people we like. I mean... everyone has a type, right? It was funny hearing what San was saying about that..."

He kept quiet, a small smile on his lips as he listened to you, gazing down at his coffee.

"But umm... well, what would you say your type is?"

Yunho half snorted, half chuckled at your question, clearly amused at your curiosity about such a thing.

"Why would you wanna know?" He teased, nudging you playfully as you laughed your nerves away.

Once he stopped laughing, he hummed thoughtfully, looking up across the river as if pondering a very serious matter.

And, after long last, his answer was made clear:

"I don't have a type"

You wanted to punch him. "God, after all that?"

Yunho exhaled another laugh, but this time looked more serious.

"Well, having a 'type' sounds so limiting. Because it's usually about external factors, and, well, external factors change, right?" Yunho turns to you, and you nod your head slowly, trying to understand where he is coming from.

"For example, if someone's 'type' is someone with brown hair or long nails, those things change! They could dye their hair and cut their nails." Yunho took a sip from his coffee, "so all of that is silly. No one will ever be satisfied if they think in such a limited way."

He leaned back and yawned slightly, before peering over at your thoughtful face.

"Did I satisfy you with my answer?" Yunho smiled and shrugged.

"I guess I wasn't expecting that to be honest," you confessed.

Then silence took over, and while your eyes were fixated on the cup in your hands, his eyes were solely on you. And his smile never once wavered.

After a long time to think, he sat up a bit more, fixing his posture and turning more to look at you.

"You know what" his voice sounded softly next to you, "I was lying."

That piqued your interest, and you found yourself turning around to face him, an enquiring expression written on your features.

"I do have a type," Yunho nodded, his eyes twinkling slightly as if he had made some sort of revelation.

"What, then?" You half whispered. He liked to leave you dangling by a thread.

"My type is you," he poked your nose, shuffling closer and stretching his arm to wrap around your shoulder. You laughed in protest but you could see in his eyes that he was serious.

"If that is the case," you asked slowly, "why couldn't you have told me this in the first place?"

"Now that wouldn't be any fun would it?" Yunho chimed, and you almost pushed him off the bench, but luckily he's strong enough to defend himself!

"It's hard confessing something like that to someone you care about the most, you know?" He muttered, and you realised that he had been rather vulnerable with you, more so than you've seen before.

"Well it's a good thing I'm dangerously in love with you then," you murmured back, causing you both to look at each other and, before you knew it, Yunho leaned in to press his lips into yours. It was a sweet kiss, one that felt as though it should've happened a long time ago. One full of gentle longing, and a shy eagerness for more kisses to come.

You both pulled away and breathed out a laugh together. Yunho's cheeks were particularly rosy by this point, and he felt he couldn't stop smiling even if he tried.

"What about all the perfect people you work with?" You pressed on further, "The gorgeous idols who are everything everyone wants to be."

"If everyone looked and behaved the same, it would be boring" Yunho shrugged, "and you know how much I hate things that a boring."

And he leaned in to give you a peck on the nose.

"Besides," Yunho held you closer, "I know you better than anyone. I wouldn't trade our connection with anything or anyone, because it's real and it's ours."

Tears pricked at your eyes as you looked at him, the wind moving around both of your bodies as a force, nature's way of pressing you together, closer still.

Your lips found each other's again, this time more desperate, full of passion, full of a wanting to last forever. Your hands found his as you laced your fingers in between his long ones.

Your connection had never made you more secure in yourself. You could really get used to the feeling of Yunho by your side, like this, in a way that made you realise that you are enough.

You are worthy. And you've found your special person.

ateez taglist: @a-wandering-stay, @xlovehwa, @yeosangsbiceps, @anyamaris, @acciocriativity, @hawaiian-angel, @toolovelyforyou (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

[veltana]

Sell my soul - 2

✦ Pairing: Lloyd Hansen/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~1,6k

✦ Rating for this part: Mature

✦ Warnings/tags: Alpha!Lloyd, Omega!Reader, omega auction, slow burn, eventual smut, pet names (sugar plum).

✦ Series summary: With no other options left, you decide to put yourself up for auction in hope of finding an alpha. Scared and running from your past, you end up with a man who is incredibly handsome but also seems to care for you in his own way. But living with him brings its own set of challenges. As both of you navigate these difficulties, you'll discover your true feelings for each other, hopefully before time runs out.

✦ Summary: Lloyd gives you a tour and you have some food

✦ Note: This was supposed to be two chapters but they were so short I put them together instead. It might be a while before we see Lloyd and sugar plum again because I've been having some trouble figuring out where I want to go with the next chapter.

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

prev

The towel is the fluffiest thing you've ever felt against your skin. Not even way back, before everything went to shits, did you have such nice things.

Looking in the mirror you can almost see your old self, scrubbed clean of the years running. If everything goes as planned, you'll never have to do it again.

You remove the last pair of clean underwear from your bag, but seeing them compared to the space you're in makes it clear that they don't make the cut. Lloyd won't know you're naked underneath his clothes anyway.

The pants are too long so you roll them up and tie the drawstring so they won't fall off. His t-shirt is soft and smells of detergent. The omega in you is disappointed that it doesn't smell like him but you push that aside.

Stepping out you look around but you have no idea where to go. “Lloyd?” You call. “Kitchen!” He answers. You head in the direction of his voice and find him at a huge kitchen island.

“Hungry?” he asks and you nod as you slide onto a bar chair. He opens a drawer and pulls out a bunch of folders, then throws them on the counter. “Pick whatever you want.”

At first, you're unsure of what it is, so you pick one up and examine it. It’s a takeaway menu for Indian food. Do you like that? You’ve eaten what you can find over the years but never paid much attention to what it was. And before that, you liked to cook and rarely ordered takeout. As you grab another menu, you try to figure out what to order, but the options are overwhelming.

Looking at Lloyd you tell him, “I don’t know, just decide for me.” Shrugging he picks up a bright red one and makes a call. The person on the other end seems to know him. Lloyd laughs and says that he’s home for a while again. You store that piece of information away. Then he rattles off some things before he ends the call.

“It'll take about 20 minutes for the food to get here, should we put your things in the wash?” “I already did,” you tell him heistily. You saw the machine in the bathroom and the thought of Lloyd handling your dirty clothes almost made you panic so you shoved them in and started it.

“Then how about a tour!” Lloyd exclaims and heads out of the kitchen before you can respond. Like a lost puppy you follow him.

There is a room with workout equipment and another smaller bathroom. Attached to the living room is a balcony overlooking the street below. Heights have never been your thing and it tingles unpleasantly in your feet as you stand at the railing made of glass.

The whole apartment is minimalistic and mostly white and gray. When you had an apartment it was full of colors. Guess it's just something you will have to get used to.

During the little tour, you observe Lloyd. The mustache makes him seem silly at first but you have a feeling he’s anything but. The whole apartment screams of a need for control over every single detail.

An itch starts in your fingers. What happens if you turn one of his decorations the wrong way? What if you nudge the painting until it's crooked? What if you tickle him?

You quickly shove all those silly thoughts away. This is a serious man and it's a serious place. And you don't know Lloyd. If you're lucky he might throw you out and if you're not lucky, well, no one would miss you. Not really.

The tour concludes in the bedroom, presenting you with a new problem: there’s a massive bed, but only one. “I usually sleep on the left side, so I guess the right is yours,” Lloyd says, gesturing to the bed.

Cold sweat breaks out on your brow. You didn't think of this. Of course, he expects you to sleep in the same bed as him. You're his omega. He's bought you for a reason. He's watching you expectantly. As if to gauge your reaction. You force yourself to nod but don't say anything.

The sound of the doorbell makes you jump and Lloyd heads out to get the food while you're stuck staring at the bed. It was a long time ago you slept in a real bed. But you have never shared a bed with an alpha.

“Come eat!” Lloyd calls. It unglues your feet from the floor and you hurry to the kitchen.

The sight of Lloyd opening the boxes of food and the steam rising from them makes your stomach rumble loudly. It’s clear that he’s bought more than just two meals with all the containers on the counter, so you try a bit of everything. You’re not sure if it’s the actual food, the fact that it’s warm and fresh, or the environment that makes it taste so great.

“Don't overeat,” Lloyd waves at you with his fork. You swallow the bite in your mouth and stare at him. He stares right back and pops a piece of fried chicken into his mouth.

“Afraid I'm gonna get fat?” you ask, voice dripping with acid. Lloyd smiles, but it's not a nice, friendly kind of smile. “No, sugar plum. But your stomach might recoil if you eat too much all at once.”

A pinprick of shame needles you. He is just trying to look out for you. A part of you wants to rebel, and stuff as much food as you can manage into your mouth, but you do see that he has a point. And you need to be nice to him, you remind yourself once again.

“Yeah, sure.” “Better to eat smaller portions often.” “Mhm,” you hum and take one last bite before putting down your fork.

“So tell me about yourself,” Lloyd says. You shrug, “Not much to tell, honestly.” “Why does an omega put themselves up for auction?” “Why does an alpha feel the need to buy one?”

Once again, the two of you stare at each other across the kitchen island. This is a mistake, is all you can think. Being nice and docile is not your strong suit.

“I had my reasons, sugar plum.” he smiles. “Besides, you're hot.” You stiffen at his words because they’re not what you expect, you certainly don't feel hot right now. For a second you consider telling him, but you don't want to dump it on him in case it works itself out anyway. Instead, you smile as politely as you can. “I had my reasons as well. And thanks for the compliment.”

Once you’ve finished eating you help put away the food and notice that the fridge holds very little produce. “Don't you eat anything but take-out?” “I'm usually not home long enough, it's a waste of money to buy a bunch of ingredients,” he shrugs.

A life without home-cooked meals sounds like a miserable existence to you so you clear your throat and offer up information about yourself. “I used to love cooking. Haven't done it in a while but I think I would like to try again.”

Lloyd closes the fridge. “Sure, go nuts! I think the store is closed now but you can go tomorrow.” Your body goes rigid and your pulse picks up. Quickly you fumble for a way out. “I can't, I don't have any money.” Lloyd raises his eyebrow. “The sum I paid should be more than enough to fill a few bags at the store.”

Shit, you didn't think of that. You chew your lip.

“Why are you scared?”

Avoiding his gaze you look at the floor. “I just don't like going to the store by myself.”

Because no matter how many times you switched stores, he always found you. You kept going further and further out of town, yet one day, you'd pull up, and there he was, waiting right outside the door. It's going to happen here too. But if you have an alpha with you maybe he won't bother you.

“Okay, I'll go with you tomorrow,” Lloyd shrugs. “Thanks,” you murmur.

The sun is setting and by now you've usually found somewhere to hole up for the night. If you were lucky it would be somewhere safe. If you were not so lucky it would be somewhere exposed. Does this count as a safe place? You think so. The day is catching up on you and the exhaustion is starting to take a toll on your body. There is just the tiny little problem of the sleeping arrangements.

You want to say something. At the same time, you feel like you’ve done enough damage on your first night. So instead you stay up with Lloyd and watch some TV on the couch that looks as if it’s brand new. As it’s getting more difficult to keep your eyes open you have the brilliant idea of just falling asleep on the couch. Then you won’t have to sleep in the bed. Silently you curl up against a pillow and sleep is instant.

The next thing you know you're in the air. It takes a moment to orient yourself before you realize he's carrying you.

“Put me down,” you mumble, too tired to filter out your thoughts. “I'm taking you to bed.” “No, I'll sleep on the couch.” You wiggle in Lloyd's arms, trying to get out.

“Don't be silly,” he rebukes and puts you on the bed. A distressed whine bubbles up in your throat.

Lloyd doesn't say anything, instead a rumble sounds next to you. It makes your muscles go slack, the omega in you recognizing the sound as comforting and safe. Sleep starts to take you again.

Fucker, is your last thought. He's purring you to sleep.

next

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (v) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : y/n and matt don't have to like each other to continue this thing of theirs, right?

warnings : implications of sex, alcohol, mention of weed, ???

mickey speaks : THANK U FOR THE LOVE ON THIS SERIES!!! sorry if this part feels shorter than the usual !! things get cute in next few parts...

THIS IS PART FIVE GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST OK

"SHE'S sick again?" remi asks, scooting herself further into the booth.

"yeah, i think it's her sinuses or something. she seemed pretty bummed about staying home, i feel awful." andrea pouts while glancing at the menu.

"she's the only person to ever be sick this often in june," remi giggles.

"we should order something to-go for her then. maybe soup?" erin suggests.

"that sounds nice, i'll text her- hopefully she's awake."

౨ৎ

"i can't keep telling my friends i'm sick." you huff as you walk back into your room to find matt redressing.

"why not?" his voice is muffled through his shirt as he tugs it over his head, leaving his hair ruffled.

you lay yourself on your bed lazily, "because they're smart enough to stop believing me soon."

"and why can't they just mind their business?" he looks over to you before reaching down to adjust the white shoes on his feet.

you stretch an arm out to grab your phone from your side table, mumbling, "you must not have friends who worry for you.”

he shakes his head then sighs, “sure, my friends care about me, but they also know when to leave me the fuck alone.”

“right, and my friends know me well enough to know i’m never asking to be left alone.” your comment comes out with more sass than you intended but you know he doesn't understand (or care to understand) your friendships enough to comment on them. then again, you were the one who brought this up in the first place.

"mmm...right. forgot you're just a little insane," he tsks, looking into your mirror and adjusting his shirt some more.

"shut up, matt," you continue staring at your phone, though it's only open to your home screen because you're far more engaged in the conversation than anything your phone could give you. "okay actually, what should i dooo?" you whine.

"i sure as hell won't know?!" his face twists up as he turns to look at you, "you're a smart girl, i'm sure you can figure it out."

you roll your eyes, "'kay... well maybe i've picked up a hobby...like, i dont know, painting! and i just really enjoy painting all alone, 'cause it helps me...focus?"

matt sarcastically laughs through his words, “you’re weird as shit,” he throws your plush throw blanket (that fell on the floor when you pushed matt on your bed just an hour ago) at you. “alright, i’m headin’ out.”

you don’t even give him a second look, “bye.”

౨ৎ

a few cheers of “ayy” and “look who made it” echo out from across the small alley as matt tucks his keys in his front pocket.

he looks over to see chris excitedly pointing at him with an arm hooked on nathan’s neck and another close friend, elijah, sitting on an oversized couch with a smile.

matt chuckles under his breath and walks closer to them, taking in the rowdy and neoned atmosphere of this downtown bowling alley. “what’s good?” he greets his group of friends.

“what’s good with you?” nathan counters with a grin as he moves to dap up matt.

matt shrugs into the handshake as eli begins to speak and stand up, “yeah, where the fuck are you comin' from?”

“home. don’t worry about it,” matt defends as his tongue guides over his hidden smile with a loose shrug of a shoulder.

“nooo! just say it how it is, matt,” chris says through a bite of nachos, “you slept in late and forgot about boys night, big fucking deal. you’re here now!” he throws his hands up before letting them fall to his sides dramatically.

matt slowly nods his head in sarcastic agreement as he faces his friends, "he's right."

he almost wants to laugh at the fact that chris actually believed his fake-sleeping enough to let him off the hook for "forgetting" their group hangout.

cameron wanders over to the group after taking his turn bowling, “‘kay, nate it’s your turn.” he then quips his chin up with a sudden grin, "hey, matt! about time you showed."

"better late than never," he breathes before joking, "you know i had to let you guys get at least a round in before i got here to start dominating."

“the word choice is a bit insane,” nick exaggerates as he approaches with arms full of bottled water and soda cans, "how about you go get your fucking shoes before you make that kind of claim." he moves around matt to place drinks on the coffee table (decorated with various bowling ball and pin themed clutter that made nick way to happy when first seeing it).

elijah places a hand on matt's shoulder, "i'll come with you, matt."

౨ৎ

"sick baby, i'm home nowww!" andrea yells from the front door.

you mentally gather yourself to continue your deception. you add weight to your eyelids, purposely making them droop and make your voice extra scratchy, as if you'd only just awoken.

andrea's at your door quickly, only tapping it slightly open, not wanting to blind you with the harsh yellowed lighting of the hallway. "hi, you up?"

you tussle under your comforter and give a small nod, "mhm."

"do you think you're like, contagious? i have your soup here and really wanna tell you some shit about tonight." she smiles warmly.

"no you're fine. please come in, i've been all alone and bored as hell," you rub your eye softly for effect.

you feel pretty guilty about this whole thing but you aren't hiding anything tragic from her. and this "illness" hasn't ruined that many hangouts...only the one's that happen to fall on days matt texts you.

"i hate to see my favorite bitch down like this, this soup better make you feel better immediately." she sighs as she comes into your room, noisy plastic bag in hand.

"i know," you lift yourself to sit up against your headboard as she sits next to you, "think i should be all better soon. i can't miss another shift at the bakery."

you were never missing work for matt, but to cover your ass you did miss a day or two of work to show your friends just how "sick" you were. if you were sick enough to stay home from work you surely were sick enough to avoid a girls night or two. but you guess it technically does come down to matt...unfortunately.

"yeah, i'm sure mr. houffman will lose it of you call off again," she giggles, sifting through the bag for your soup and silverware.

౨ৎ

barely a week later and you're feeling the best you have in a while, with the guilt of pretending to be sick no longer following you.

it's the fourth of july so there was absolutely no way you'd be continuing that act. you weren't missing out on a holiday with as many parties as this one.

and when chris asked andrea to get the girls to come party hop for the night, you told her yes immediately.

you're currently sat atop a random kitchen counter as nick moves around to make a concoction cocktail for you. you lean back on your hands to watch as he uses a knife to slice a small lime as garnish. "wow you really have an eye for this shit, nick," you laugh at his focused stare (he tries to compensate for any drinks he's had so far, not wanting to slice a finger off).

"i guess i'm just a natural!" he exclaims as he places the lime on the rim of the plastic cups, "okay, one for you," you take it from him, "and one for me." he grins at you.

"cheers!" you motion your drink towards him and he echoes you before you both take large sips.

your eyes pinch before they grow wide, "...why's it actually...good?" you laugh.

"you bitch! you thought i'd give you a shitty drink?!" he giggles and goes for another sip of his own.

"it's not that-"

you're cut off by matt's voice, "alright, time to dip. everyone's sayin' this place is really weird."

you both look over at him with his mellow attitude and perfectly organized outfit (so that he'd 'have all the colors but not look like a walking american flag'). "what? this place has been a good time so far! right, nick?"

"suppperrrr fun. maybe it's a you problem, matt." he jokes.

"come on, chris is the one who sent me to get you two. you know i would've left you both a few houses back." he teases.

you slide off of the counter easily, "okaaay," you look into his eyes and pat his chest twice mumbling, "someone needs a smoke break," before walking off in search of the door.

"wait y/n!" nick grabs a few sealed jello shots from an ice bucket nearby before rushing after you.

though he doesn't catch up to you before matt does, grabbing your hand, "you don't even know where the fuck you're going."

you breathe out defeated, "i'm sure i could've figured it out. i don't need you bossing me around."

matt pouts with squinted eyes and his head tilted, "sure."

nick comes up to you, continuing to stuff the shots into his jort pockets, "do these shorts make my ass look fat?" he turns to show you his side profile (already giggling before the punchline of his joke lands) that showcases the multiple items shoved into his back pockets and protrude out in awkward shapes.

you and nick both fall into a laughing fit and matt only ghosts a smile at his brother's stupidity before tugging your hand towards an exit. "wait! here, hold this please," you hand your drink to matt and reach your hand out for nick's. when he takes your hand willingly you raise your conjoined hands with a smile, "aw, we're like a little train!"

nick adds to the joke by pretending to be a conductor, exclaiming all the cliche lines he knows to make you laugh.

matt finally pushes a front door open, the warm summer air finally surrounding you once more. the rest of the group chatter along the sidewalk across the street. "my friends!" nick yells.

the three of you make your way down the wooden stairs (that seem to be steeper when going down than they were to walk up), and once you're in the grass your hand drops from matts's as nick drags you across the street quickly to crash into your friends.

remi's face is annoyed and confused at first but changes immediately when she recognizes your face. she throws her arms around you for a hug, "y/n! you were found!" you laugh into her neck as she sways back and forth.

"okay guys i'm thinking we hit up the place that the end of this block, right there. they've got some crazy lights goin' on so it should be fun." chris points in the direction and looks to the group for opinions.

"yeah! let's do it!" nate encourages.

the group begin to walk down the sidewalk (and slightly into the grass) lined with miniature american flags and past the many houses full of people and decorated with fairy lights and expensive garland.

naturally, everyone gravitates into cliques due to the amount of small conversations happening at once.

"that's unreal!" erin adds while hanging her arm on your shoulder, as you both listen to remi's dramatic retelling of some guy's awful flirting with her.

"i''m so over these trash ass men," remi shakes her head.

"tell me about it," erin sighs, rolling her eyes.

just as you begin to add your own opinion, matt taps your shoulder. he seems to always find a way to interrupt you. you glance behind you and see him holding your cocktail from earlier up.

"oh thanks, i forgot you had that," erin leans off of you to give you space to turn around and grab it.

though her eyes linger on matt for a second too long causing him to send her a smile and raise his eyebrows slightly in awkward question.

you feel the tension bite at the air around you and in hopes of escaping it, you turn back around and prompt remi with a new topic to discuss.

only, now you miss when erin gives matt a second glance back- and this time she offers a gentle wave and smile to him, in truce.

౨ৎ

after a few more stops at parties (you all got a little greedy about the free drinks and food which brought three extra "one more"s before deciding to cut it off), you all head to a nearby park to end the night with a firework show.

it was surprisingly well organized, with blankets already laid out around the large grassy area so that anyone could sit and watch whether they'd planned to or not.

the night has started to get the slightest bit cooler which was much needed after such an eventful three hours, leaving everyone exhausted in their comfortable spots; chris resting his head against andrea's full thighs, you next to her with your legs sprawled and arms extended behind you, nick and nathan both sat with their legs crossed, admiring the bright fireworks despite nick's flinching every-so-often.

the blanket next to you hosts erin, remi, matt, and cameron. all laying out as they laugh and talk, which you assume comes from a combination of the edibles they'd all taken at one of the parties and remi's addictingly outgoing nature that can force anyone to want to talk to her.

the booming fireworks go on for another twenty minutes before dying down and leaving the crowd in the dark, smokey air.

as you adjust to standing and take out your phone to use as a makeshift flashlight, you read the most recent of your many notifcations:

MATT - 12:36 AM

you down to paint after this???

you bite at your freshly chapped bottom lip before looking over to matt, who's currently using his hands obnoxiously to explain something he's clearly passionate about to cameron.

you sliently sigh before replying:

YOU -12:47 AM

sure

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper @deadxrx @breeloveschris @saintsturn @honestlybabymiracle @hearts4chris @starrysturniolo @blissfulbellss @aoxash

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 20.

Summary: The evening of the Arts Collective dinner somehow gets even worse for you as Farleigh gives you some unfortunate news about Oliver and Venetia and their moonlight exploits. The worst part is having to figure out a way to break the news to Felix.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: angst, mentions of childhood/ongoing parental neglect.

A/N: 3729 words. I finally cracked it!! Figured out the ending!! Sorry for the delay I was busy writing 20k about Jacob Elordi being hot and mean which I will never publish (Euphoria, a show I STILL have not watched beyond like 20 minutes of clips on YouTube lol). Anyways I've missed you and these characters and hopefully 21 won't be too far away xx (also I started my new job so that's been exciting but also Ooft ouch my bones hurt)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

For a day that was already pretty damn shit, Oliver's cruelty was like salt in the wound. Hand still on the doorknob after you close it, you listen to him retreating over the ringing in your ears. If you let go, you'll see your hands shake, so you're frozen, heart in your throat, the house growing quiet around you. It's familiar, but unwelcome in this moment.

Tears well in your eyes as you sit back at the desk, computer humming pleasantly, bathing you in a cool glow. Part of you was desperate to run after him, to oblige him, to reveal every inch of your past and soul to him, hoping he was true to his word. That he could actually care about you in a way that very few have ever bothered to. That he could love you the way Felix did.

I don't know you.

An even stronger part of you wanted to run right across the hall, to bury yourself beneath the covers of your bed, safe and waiting for Felix. Surely he'd be back soon, if Oliver's return indicated anything. You hadn't heard him return, but it wouldn't be long. But how were you meant to look at him, lie next to him, even touch him, after all of that. It had been easy to bite your tongue on your disappointment so far, knowing that like so many others, Oliver's love for you thus far had been merely as a proxy for Felix himself. You knew Felix was vaguely aware that that was how others sometimes viewed you, but you'd always been eager to assure him that as long as he genuinely cared about you, and the others were good to you, you'd be more than happy.

And that used to be true. But none of the others were Oliver. Felix knew you loved the boy just as genuinely as he was coming to, you could never tell him that your affections were not as genuinely returned.

Your pride held you hostage in this room on both accounts.

When you finally raise your head from your hands, scrubbing unspilled tears from your eyes, you try and focus yourself once more on rereading the email that had already put you in a foul mood before Oliver had made it worse. It had taken all afternoon to detach yourself from it's contents, especially knowing your mother was waltzing about the grounds, spoiling your sanctuary.

The details of an official nondisclosure agreement, sent from your parents' team of lawyers. The paperwork was to arrive in the next few days, but you were being warned ahead of time. Before Oliver had interrupted, you were finally getting to the point of finding it all funny, that they were that insistent on cutting social ties with you that they'd go to almost any lengths that remained discrete, and out of the general public's reach. Now it just... ached.

Felix's heavy footsteps echo through the long gallery outside your study door, but he heads straight into bed. You wonder if it's even worth it to head to bed that night, you can't see yourself getting much sleep.

Now mostly, tragically, sober after you'd spent the afternoon trying to get out of your mind to cope with the day, you wonder if a drink would help put you to sleep, put an end to this abysmal day you'd endured. Which is how Farleigh finds you in the Blue Room, frowning at the bottle of liquor you'd left in the broken piano.

"You're up late," you mused flatly, still trying to decide if it was worth it to drink until you pass out in your study, "how was the -"

"We need to talk," Farleigh's tone is even more irate than you'd expected. Neither he nor the Catton siblings were ever in a particularly bright mood after being forced into any kind of proximity with your mother, and you were always touched by their loyalty, but this was something else.

You lower the piano lid, leaving the liquor for the time being. Turning to look at Farleigh, it's almost shocking to see how dark the look in his eyes was.

"What... happened?" You asked slowly. Farleigh's gaze flicks to the door behind you, to the long gallery and to the entrance to both yours and Oliver's bedrooms. Prying eyes, listening ears, though you were almost certain you'd heard Oliver leave not too long ago. A muscle in Farleigh's jaw twitches, and you instead offer your study for some privacy.

"You're not going to like it," is the first thing Farleigh tells you once the study door is closed. He sounds furious. Turning off your computer monitor, you choose to sit yourself on the sofa by the window, looking at him expectantly.

"This day's been a fucking nightmare already, I'm sure I can handle it," you rolled your eyes. Farleigh, however, chooses to sit at your desk, sideways on the chair, rather than joining you.

"You told Oliver not to fuck around with Venetia, didn't you?" It's unsettling to see Farleigh so serious. Still, his words have something twisting in your gut, even as you tried to play it off.

"Of course I did."

"Then tell me why I saw them practically eating each other on the front fucking lawn."

It's like you can feel the moment your blood turns to ice in your veins.

"This isn't funny," your lip curls, but Farleigh's severity remains, "this is a sick fucking joke, Farleigh, and a shitty thing to try and pull today of all goddamn days," your voice is rising, but he lets your fury build, uninterrupted.

"It would be an awful joke," he agreed, "if I was joking." All of the hopelessness that had plagued you since Oliver had left began to crystalise, calcifying into rage as his words settled in, "I don't care about Oliver," Farleigh's gaze shifted for a moment, still tense and furious, but there was something very nearly apologetic in his next words, "but unfortunately for me and for you right now, I care about you and Felix."

"Felix." Oh God. This couldn't be happening again. You'd told Oliver; you'd warned him. The fucking nerve!

"Yeah," Farleigh mutters quietly, "and you're going to be the one to tell him." When you try and protest, you're met with a sharp glare, and a stern reminder of how this exact situation had been reversed only twelve months ago over Eddie, "I'm not doing that again," Farleigh warned, "you owe me."

"Fine," you spit, "fuck, I'll tell him," hands shaking, you light up a cigarette. Farleigh stands, but hovers by your desk for a moment.

"He really knows how to pick them," He muses flatly.

"Shocking taste in men," scowling our of the window, your agreement is nonetheless irate, "fucking unbelievable," you hissed under your breath, "and he thinks there's something wrong with me?"

"There is," Farleigh's words surprise you, stinging a little, all things considered, "you fell for that stupid, little boy too," he reminds with a particularly vicious look.

"So it's my fault I have to break Felix's heart?"

"I'm saying that you've given me a lot of attitude for not liking him, but Oliver wouldn't even be here without both of you."

"Get the fuck out of my study, Farleigh," you order, pointing at the door, cigarette in hand and fury in your eyes.

The anger bubbling in your gut is beginning to burn. A thousand things are racing through your mind; top of the list is wondering just how quickly you make sure he's never welcomed back at Oxford. All you'd need was your computer and an hour to ruin Oliver Quick's entire life; you'd done it before. But if you turned that monitor on, if you had to once again look at that fucking email from your family - not even your family, their lawyers! - you think you might throw up. Tomorrow, with a clear head, you'd make your move.

And you'd tell Felix. No need to wake him now, give him a few hours to still live in the fantasy where the boy he was falling in love with wasn't once again going after his sister. Fuck- Venetia.

The more you thought about it all the more frenzied your outrage became. She wasn't innocent in this either, she never was. Venetia Catton was more than adept at finding both yours and her brother's exact pressure points and pressing with vehemence. So desperate to be loved yet so unable to come across as anything but insatiable, she'd always taken what she could get. You were good, but clearly you weren't enough to distract her from new, shiny Oliver.

The taste of smoke sticks to your teeth, as does your sour contemplation on how little the people you tried to love respected you. Or Felix. Christ, how were you meant to tell Felix?

Except you can't even really begin to contemplate how you'll break the news when you hear footsteps across the gallery.

Felix doesn't even knock - not that he ever has - before he lets himself in. You thought you'd have more time; the anger still burns white-hot inside of you, but despair and guilt flickers at the edges. He looks about as rough as you feel, concern and ebbing irritation in his expression. Of course, he'd spent the evening in the presence of your mother; none of the others ever felt nearly as much ire in her presence as he did.

Without a word, he strides across the room, all but pouting, and throws himself onto the sofa beside you. Drawing his legs up onto the sofa, he makes himself as small as possible - quite a task considering his size compared to the small, squashy sofa - and leans against you, head on your shoulder.

"Hate that woman," he hisses under his breath. You know he means your mother, but your mind is on his deceitful sister. All you can think about is Venetia and Oliver, but you can't very well tell Felix now. You don't have the words to not make everything so much worse if you tried. Already you'd decided to tell him in the morning, but right now you had to keep him from figuring out what was bothering you. Or that you were bothered at all.

So you decide to take a leaf out of Felix's own book, keep him happy and distracted in the way you knew best.

"Bad night?" Your voice is low as you move your arm back, fingers carding through his hair. The way Felix hums is still dark, but he shifts closer to you. After another moment of quiet, he huffs an irate breath out through his nose and begins to pluck at the hem of your shorts.

"Can I maim your mum the next time I see her?"

"She's not worth going to jail over," you tell him, leg shifting into his touch. Felix's hand stops fussing with your shorts to grip your thigh.

"You are," he huffs resolutely, and even despite your own anger you smile.

"My knight in shining armour," you laugh softly, lips against his forehead, "but do you really want to be so far away?" Leaning back against him, your hand moves from his hair to graze your nails down his bare arm, hoping he takes the hint. Thankfully, he does. The warm grip on your thigh tightens, and when he turns to look at you, there's something hungry in his eyes, "she's not worth your time, Fi," it comes out almost as a snarl, a truth you believe even in the depths of your own, otherwise mostly unrelated anger, but you turn your tone teasing, smirking at him, "I just choose to think about how I was apparently on your mind all night."

"I'm always thinking about you," he almost sounds a little breathless as he says it, managing to sit up more properly without moving away. You let your gaze flick to his lips before going back to look him in the eyes. Tongue darting out to wet your lips, you tilt your head very slightly, beginning to smile.

"And what are you think about me now?"

You'd always quietly loved whenever Felix was feeling possessive, and now moreso than ever. It made distracting him easy and fun, and Felix himself, his hands as he pulled you over to straddle his lap, to hold you close, to cradle your face as he kissed you so furiously, it was almost enough to distract you too. In all honesty, it was the only good thing to have happened all day, though even this was coloured by guilt, knowing what you still had to tell him when you found the right words.

However suddenly, Felix pulls back wearing a frown. For a few moments you find yourself catching your breath, confused, arms still around his neck.

"Something's wrong," it's not a question.

"Nothing's wrong," you lie, and hope it's more convincing them his usually are, "nothing at all," you hum, and move back in to press kisses to his jaw, hoping it's enough of a distraction to trail those kisses down his neck.

"You're angry about something," damn it. Of course Felix knows you too well.

"Am I?" You want to keep the ruse up for as long as you can manage, "and what would that be?" You murmured before you're sucking a beautiful, bruising hickey against his neck.

"I don't -" but his breath catches, grip on you tightening. It almost works; he swears faintly under his breath, losing himself in the moment and leaning into you, but then he actually seems to shake himself out of it, "come off it," he sighs, and you sit up, trying your best to appear both confused, and still in the mood, "if I'm not allowed to do this, neither are you." He says pointedly. Even though you're fighting a losing battle, you still lean in, still try and distract him with your mouth on his.

"Do what?" You murmur, nose to nose as you peck him quickly, desperately trying to keep your tone light and teasing. But you can see it in his eyes before he even says it; he knows exactly what you're doing.

"Distracting me because you know how fucking hot I think you are."

"And if I was," you murmured, pressing yourself against him, "why would that be such a bad thing?"

"Because you're being evasive," Felix pushed you back, held you at arm's length as your expression began to drop, fury beginning to creep back in as you remembered what exactly it is you didn't want to tell him, "you're not evasive with me;" he insists, "everyone else, sure, but this - whatever this is - is.. it's- it feels weird. This isn't you!"

"What am I then, Felix?"

"Mine!" He answered far too quickly, frustration sling out of him, but appears to catch himself, correcting to, "my best mate, alright? You don't not tell me things."

"So if there is something I'm not telling you, can you not trust that I might have a reason?" Finally your anger bursts from you, furious in the evening light. Felix has gone quiet, shocked; it's been a long time since you'd yelled at him like this. He looks wounded, apologetic, something you're not used to. Climbing off of him, you stand, you have to give yourself some distance from him, "there's a lot I don't tell you, Fi," you sighed, expression pinching as you tried to force yourself to calm down.

"You can tell me anything," Felix's voice has softened, leaning forward on the sofa. It aches to look at him, to see him so beautiful and vulnerable in these moments, "you know that."

"I know," you agreed, "it's not that I can't tell you, it's that I don't want to," you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes, groaning; you can't look him in the eyes, can't even look at him right now, "and I will, that's the thing; I'm going to tell you, you're right, I always do, I just -" in a moment of weakness, your voice comes out almost sounding pitiful, defeated and frustrated, "I thought I had more time."

"What's wrong?" Felix asks softly. When you laugh, there's no humour in it. The more the reality of your situation sinks in, the more the fight leaves you.

"It's going to make you angry, or upset, or probably both," you sound rather helpless when you say it, but it seems like you no longer have a choice in when you get to tell him.

"Is it your mum?"

"I wish it was my mum," you shook your head, finally moving your hands to shake them out as you stepped back, leaning back against your desk with defeat. With every moment that passes you can feel Felix's gaze upon you, burning into you. When you are upset, he will never relent until he finds the source; usually it would be a gift, make you feel wanted and special and like you actually mattered for once. But this knowledge feels like a curse.

"We could run away," it's a last resort, barely more than a mutter as you look at your hands.

"What?"

"Just us," you continue, fidgeting, unable to look at Felix and the concern you knew you'd see in his eyes, "I could get us a little apartment in some artsy, London suburb," it's not going to work, not going to distract him, to keep him from prying the information from you that you know will hurt him, but it's all you have left, "you know nan would help us out, she'd kill for me. We could do whatever we wanted, never have to work a day in our lives. We could be whoever we wanted, wouldn't have to live in a house where they'd rather we die of heat stroke than ruin the wood panelling with an air conditioner," all you can think about is how you fell for a boy who didn't love you the way you hoped he would, and turned out couldn't even really respect you, "never have to go back to Oxford."

"What happened?" Standing, Felix crosses the short distance to your desk. There's so much sweetness in his voice as he sits in the desk chair beside you, looking up at you with his damn perfect brown eyes.

"I can't let this happen again, Fi," you hadn't even realised you were close to tears until it becomes harder to speak, "I tried, I fucking tried, I told him -"

"Who?"

"Ollie," you sniffled, face growing hot as you couldn't stop your tears from beginning to fall, "I warned him not to go near Venetia- I just- I can't believe she'd do this again, that Ollie couldn't respect when I ask him this one thing -"

"Ollie and Venetia?" There's an unsettling, blank quality to Felix's voice. The look in his eyes is far away and ice cold.

"Apparently hooking up on the front lawn," you clarified, voice weak, trying to wipe the tears from your eyes, derision edging it's way back into your voice as some of the anger returns, "for God, and Farleigh to bare witness," you took in a deep, shaking breath, attempting to pull yourself together, "I tried, Fi -"

"Fucking unbelievable," Felix snarls furiously, getting to his feet, "both of them- fuck, was Farleigh sure? He wasn't making some sick joke?"

"Even Farleigh wouldn't fuck with us like that," you muttered darkly, before adding, quiet, sounding actually pained with frustration, "I've been nothing but good to them, Fi, I thought -"

"You are never touching my sister again," Felix cuts you off firmly, voice forcibly calm. Surprised both by his tone and his words, you look up; he's so much closer than you'd realised The look in your best friend's eyes almost overwhelms you; protective, possessive, "I'm not watching her treat you like that anymore," he braces himself against the desk either side of you, crowding you against it.

"Fi," your barely manage a whisper, heartbeat racing in your chest, "I..." for just a moment he looks almost pained, and he hangs his head, faint, humourless laugh escaping him.

"I have to watch you fuck around with people who would barely give you the time of day; you're so fucking good it kills me sometimes," he bites out; you can't tell him that you know they're just using you, that so many people simply entertain the idea of you as a way to stay in Felix's life. Even if he'd never admit it, Felix knows. There's very little in his life that he's ever felt the need to reflect on, and even less that he feels any particular guilt about. You used to think he was fine with this arrangement, that he knew you could find the fun in these one-sided dynamics, "they're fucking using you," he grits out, but you're surprised by the way his fury almost sounds like despair, "I watch them and they're fucking using you like you're not even a person, Y/N."

Felix looks up; the looks in his eyes is more serious than you think you've ever seen from him. Deliberately, firmly, he takes your face in his hands.

"You're not my shadow, you know that, right?"

For a very long moment, you think you feel your heartbeat stop in your chest. On the surface it's a completely ridiculous question, except...

Feeling your face grow hot, you know he can see you tearing up; Felix has always known you better than anyone, always known exactly what you seem to need to hear. Nodding weakly, caught, pinned by his intense gaze, his focus on you, your lip trembles. Already fraught with emotions from the day, and the evening that had just passed, you have no fucking idea what to say. Felix has never spoken this out loud, never let himself properly wrestle with the subtext that coloured so much of your dynamic; it flickers across his face, the surprise and guilt and realisation as it hits him what he'd just said.

You are so much more to him than anyone else will ever give you credit for.

You are not his shadow, but you are unequivocally his.

So you kiss him.

[lesbianpepsi]

sweet as cherries | part II

pairing: jenna ortega x blind!fem!reader

summary: you finally go on the date Jenna promised you

series masterlist

link to request

words: 4.203k

warnings: light swearing, r makes more blind jokes?, bad writing

authors note: thank you all so much for 800 followers, that's actually mental. love y'all <33

Jenna hadn't left your thoughts for longer than a minute since you met her a few days back at the cafe.

It was bad.

You couldn't stop yourself from thinking about her every single moment. 

Drinking cinnamon latte? Jenna. Your phone is ringing? You hoped it was Jenna calling. Heading towards the cafe? You hoped Jenna was there.

It was just Jenna, Jenna, Jenna. 

When she did call, hearing her voice again through technology wasn't anything like it was when you were a teenager watching one of her movies.

It was a thousand times better.

Hearing her voice actually speak to you, laugh at your terrible jokes and even compliment you made you feel as if you were in heaven. 

Her laugh was certainly one of your favourite things. 

As the days passed it reached Thursday, an exact week since you met Jenna at the cafe.

You were interrupted in the middle of listening to an audiobook by a phone call from Jenna. You giddily answered the phone with a smile already plastered on your face. 

"Hey Jenna." 

"Hey Y/n, how've you been today?" She asked you, hearing her saying your name never failed to make butterflies appear in your stomach. 

You shrugged your shoulders as you relaxed even further into the couch. "I've been alright thanks for asking, I've been stuck in the house all day 'cause of the rain. You?"

"It's raining heavily today, hasn't it?" You hummed in agreement. "I've been alright thanks for asking, tired but alright. Hopefully I'm gonna make yours better."

You chuckled as you raised your eyebrows as if she was with you. "Oh?"

Jenna giggled nervously through the phone, her angelic laugh making your smile soften. 

"I'm not working tomorrow so I was wondering if you'd like to go on that date I promised you?" She inquired with a tone to her voice that you never had heard before.

Without thinking you began nodding your head eagerly, soon after coughing awkwardly as you internally thanked the fact Jenna did not see your reaction.

"I'd love to go on a date with you." You answered her speedily making Jenna laugh at your jumbled words. "Yeah?" She asked again, you could practically hear her smirk through the phone.

"Yeah, I've been waiting all week for you to ask me out." You immediately regret your words as Jenna hums through the phone. "All week?" She teases, now you know she has a shit eating smirk on her face.

"You know what, I think I'll be busy tomorrow." This only made Jenna let out a laugh. "What a shame, guess I'll just have to go on a date with someone else."

"Oh look at that, my schedule just freed, turns out I am free tomorrow. No need to get a replacement for me." You admitted swiftly, laughing lightly yourself.

"Good, I don't think I could've found someone as good as you to go on a date with me." She answered with a cheeky smile on her face. 

Your heart skipped a beat at her words. She definitely knew how to charm someone, that you're sure about. 

"Well isn't that lucky for the both of us then." You concluded with a smile toying on your lips. "What're we gonna do?" 

"I've already planned everything out." Jenna says as she shuffled around in her seat.

"Really? What're we gonna be doing then?" You asked her curiously switching your phone to your other hand.

Jenna chuckled. "You'll have to wait till tomorrow to see." 

You groaned loudly, throwing your head backwards as you leaned against the head against the couch. 

"Really? You're gonna make me wait?"

"Yep!" Jenna exclaimed.

"I hate you." You grumbled through the phone, rolling your eyes as you did so. Jenna laughed, "You sure about that?" 

"No." You grumbled with a soft smile. "You're annoying, Jen." 

"What a way to woo a girl." Jenna replied, a small blush on her cheeks at the nickname. "I'll pick you up tomorrow around six?" 

"Well I certainly won't be drinking to pick you up." You said, sarcasm dripping off of your voice.

"Ha-ha. I bet you're trying not to laugh right now." A small giggle erupted from your chest at her nods, smiling a crooked smile.

"Maybe."

Jenna laughed freely as she shook her head, smiling like a fool. "So six?"

"I'll be waiting." 

—————

To say you're nervous is an understatement. You're fucking petrified. 

It hadn't hit you till after you and Jenna ended the call -which lasted another hour- that you're going on a date with America's It Girl. 

At Jenna's decision to not tell you where you'll be going it took you an entire hour to get changed.

After many, many outfit changes you decided on white long sleeve dress shirt, basic black pants along with a pair of even more basic black boots. 

Classy but something most people would wear on a daily basis. 

"Hey Alexa, what time is it?" You yelled out as you held your cane with a strong grip, your knee bouncing nervously up and down. 

"It's currently 5:59, one minute till your date with Jenna Ortega, a famous actress who was born on September twenty seventh-"

"Okay, okay, thank you Alexa."  You interrupted, not wanting to hear the machine ramble on about your date.

The clicking of the clock filled the silent apartment making you feel more nervous as the time ticked down. 

Would you make a fool of yourself? Will Jenna find out that she's actually not interested in you? What if it's awkward? What if-

"It's six in the evening, you are scheduled to go on a date with Jenna Ortega." Alexa spoke again, interrupting your internal self doubting. 

The exact moment the bot stopped talking gentle knocks were heard from your front door. You swallowed nervously as you stood up, leaning on your cane momentarily before you headed over to the door.

Taking a deep breath you twist the door-handle and pull it open, a nervous smile on your face.

"Y/n," Jenna says breathlessly with her own nervous smile on her face. "You look beautiful. Gorgeous even."

You blushed heavily at her words, looking down as if that would hide your blush. 

"Thank you, I don't doubt that you look even more beautiful." You reply with a grin, lifting your head to look in her direction.

Jenna laughed playfully as she gazed at you, her eyes flickering over your body as she admired how good you looked.

"Thank you. Are you ready to go?" 

You nod your head happily, stretching your hand out to where you know the coat rack was at, you feel around the different fabrics before you feel the texture for your black trench coat. 

Grabbing it, you quickly put it on as you take a step outside, closing the door behind you. 

"You gonna tell me where we're heading to?" You ask her as you instinctively go to grab Jenna's elbow with your free hand, letting her lead you towards your car, her being a step ahead of you.

Jenna didn't protest at the contact and even smiled at it. "You're just gonna have to wait." She replies with a grin as she directs you towards her car.

"Seriously?" You complain as you arrive at Jenna's car. Jenna opens the car door for you, making sure you don't bump your head on top of the car as you enter. Passing her your cane she closed the door as she carefully put it in the backseat, joining you in the front behind the wheel soon after.

"As serious as pie." Jenna says as she begins to drive, the car engine revving lowly as she drives off. 

You turn to look at her with furrowed eyebrows, laughing confusedly. "As serious as pie? I have never heard that before. What's so serious about pies?" 

Jenna smiled as she focused her eyes on the road, resisting the urge to let out a small laugh. "Pies sound like spies."

"Then why don't you say you are as serious as spies?" You ask even more confused, laughing amused as you push your thick black sunglasses back up your nose.

"When I was younger I constantly got the two mixed up so If I wanted an actual pie I'd ask: 'Can I have a spy?' I don't know how I mixed them up, but somehow I did." Jenna answered you with her own laugh, smiling from ear to ear as she heard you laugh even harder.

"It gets worse too. I remember I wanted to watch a Spy movie so my confused self asked 'Can I watch pie?'. So at the young age of four years old someone - I still don't remember who- did what I asked for and put on American Pie for me." 

You couldn't help but laugh as you shook your head, amused by Jenna's story. "Oh poor sweet innocent baby Jenna." You said in between laughs.

"I think it was so traumatising that I've completely blanked it out, I only know the story since my Mom likes to bring it up during family holidays." Jenna laughs as she flicks the indicators on, the low ticking noise being heard between your and Jenna's laughs. "The time she walked into the living room to her four year old daughter watching American Pie."

"I can't even imagine your moms face walking into that." You exclaim as your laughter finally dies down, your crooked grin never leaving your face.

After Jenna's story the car is filled with low music from the radio. Eventually you feel Jenna stop and park the car, leaving the car before arriving outside your door moments later, opening it up for you as she hands you your cane.

"Thanks," You whispered as you gripped at the cane with your dominant hand, your other hand reaching out for Jenna's elbow. 

At first you waved it across the air but Jenna quickly came back to your side and guided your non-dominant hand to her elbow.

"I feel like it isn't fair that I literally can't see where we are, so you finally gonna tell me?" You asked as you walked with Jenna, letting her guide you as your cane glided against the floor. 

"It isn't much but I booked us reservations at a restaurant, I made sure to pick the best one in town." You smiled as you unconsciously licked your lips at the mention of food.

"The best one, huh? Is it also the fanciest?" You teased with an appreciative smile, showing Jenna that you were truly thankful about her planning the date.

Jenna blushed as she chuckled, glancing over at your side profile briefly before back at the restaurant in front of you two.

As you neared the entrance a man in a tight suit opened the glass door for the two of you, his smile as wide as it was fake as he rehearsed his line for the probably hundredth time.

"Welcome to The Crown, I hope you enjoy your meals." Jenna smiled politely at him as she entered the restaurant with you by her side.

Immediately low chatter and sounds of cutlery was heard throughout the entire restaurant, filling up your sensitive ears with the sounds.

Jenna guided you towards the check in where another man stood in with a fake smile plastered on his face, a formal suit on his figure. She smiled up at  him as she came to a halt, you stopping beside her, never letting go of her elbow. 

"Hi, reservations under the name Ortega." She said with a ravishing smile. 

The smell of the food was intoxicating as it flooded your nose, you definitely are going to enjoy your dinner tonight, that's for sure.

"I'm sorry but I see no reservations under the name Ortega." The man apologised in an overly fake apologetic tone that you couldn't help but notice.

Jenna's eyes widened dramatically as she shook her head, taking a step close to where the man stood behind the small podium with an iPad attached to it.

"Are you sure? I made reservations three days ago." Jenna insisted with a polite voice as she laughed nervously. "What about Jenna?" She tried again.

The man hissed as he shook his head at Jenna. "I'm sorry but there are no reservations under the name Ortega or Jenna. We've recently hired new staff and it gets hectic over the summer so one of them have probably mixed up the reservations. Sorry." He answers, dragging out the letter 'y' much longer than necessary.

Jenna sighed as she turned to face you, a frown on her face. "I'm so sorry, Y/n." You turned your head to the direction of her voice, a crooked smile still on your lips. "There's nothing to be sorry about, it isn't your fault the reservations got messed up." 

She sighed as she looked down at the ground, embarrassed that she had ruined your and hers first date. "Still, this night was supposed to be perfect but now we have nowhere to eat." The brunette apologised again in a thick voice.

You shake your head at her as you squeezed at her elbow reassuringly. "We can still have a great night, Jen, c'mon let's go for a walk and we can figure it out then." 

Jenna reluctantly nodded her head after a few seconds, raising her hand to lay it over yours for a second before she slowly turned around, making sure you were turning with her slowly. 

"Let's go," She affirmed, walking out of the restaurant with a small frown still on her face.

Jenna and you stayed silent for a few minutes as you walked down the lively street. The actress felt a gnawing sense of guilt in her stomach every time she glanced at you.

You on the other hand still had a smile toying on your lips, more than happy to just be around Jenna. You sense Jenna was feeling guilty about the 'supposed' ruined date, but to you the date wasn't ruined at all, a minor hiccup.

"Can I ask you a question?" You abruptly ask her as you turn your head to look at her face.

"You just asked me one." She retorted, glancing back at you with a grin. You rolled your eyes under your black glasses. "Of course you're that type of person. Bet if you were a teacher and I asked if I can go to the bathroom you'd say: 'I don't know, can you?'" 

Jenna laughed as she shook her head, the corners of her eyes crinkling up in delight as she did so. "Wow, you really do think that low of me." She teased back with her own playfulness. 

"Of course I do, I loathe you so much I'm going on a date with you." You disclosed with noticeable sarcasm in your voice as you chuckled. "Seriously though, can I ask you a question?"

"I don't know, can you?" Jenna replied without any hesitation.

"You're hilarious, can't you see I'm laughing my ass off right now?" You replied dryly, acting annoyed, but the twitch of the corner of your lips telling a completely different story. 

"What did you wanna ask me?" Jenna finally asked you, putting you out of your misery as you two walked down the lit up street.

"Is it weird seeing your face plastered absolutely everywhere?" You questioned her with genuine curiosity. "Not like I've ever even seen your face before, but is it weird or have you gotten used to it?"

Jenna stifled a little laugh at your joke as she shrugged her shoulders weakly. "It was a massive shock in the beginning, if I'm being honest. Out of all my projects I never expected Wednesday to be my biggest break. It took some time for me to start getting used to it, it can still be very stressful at times but I've gotten much better at managing it compared to how I was in November."

Your thumb caressed against Jenna's shirt as you two walked, a small encouraging smile on your face as you listened to Jenna talk.

Unknown to you Jenna smiled softly at the feeling of your caressing her lightly.

"I know for a fact I'll never get used to the paparazzis, they're the fucking worst with their blinding flashing cameras." She complains. No star will ever get used to the invasion of privacy at every given moment of their life.

You snorted a laugh. "Guess if they ever see us together in public I'll be okay then."

Jenna stayed silent for a moment, confused by your words until she finally got your joke. The latina bit her lower lip to hide the laugh wanting to escape from her, a smirk on her lips. 

Before Jenna could say anything she felt you grip her tighter as you stopped walking, she immediately turned to you full of worry but by the wide smile on your face she quickly calmed herself down.

"I know what we're gonna have for dinner." You exclaimed with a delighted smile. "If there's one thing I can smell better than cinnamon latte it's wood-fired pizza trucks." 

Her eyes glanced around at your words and to her surprise a wood-fired pizza truck was at the corner of the street, only a small line of people queuing.

"You're a genius, Y/n. Let's go." Jenna eagerly said, walking towards it at a pace quicker than usual. You followed along with her just as eagerly, both of you having wide smiles on your faces.

As the two of you arrived at the food truck there were only three other people in front of you, an incredibly small line for a Friday night. 

Standing beside Jenna you turned your head in her direction, your smile nervous as you nodded towards the truck.

"Can you read the menu to me, please?" You gingery asked her with a taut voice, Jenna nodded her head without hesitation, turning to read the menu as she listed off the different types of pizzas and what's on them.

After Jenna read the entire menu to you, you decided on a barbecue chicken pizza and Jenna going for a pizza called clucking spicy.

Jenna stepped forward, you followed her as you reached the front of the truck, the strong smells of different flavours and fire sneaking into your nose.

"What can I get for you two lovely ladies?" The owner said in a cheery voice as he leaned against the counter, gawking down at the two of you.

Jenna looked up at him with her own polite smile. "Hi can I get one twelve inch clucking spicy pizza, one twelve inch barbecue chicken pizza and can I have one can of cherryade as well please."

"Of course, the drink is on the house, darling." He replied still with a cheery voice as he wrote down the orders on a notepad. 

You grinned at the sound of a free drink while Jenna shook her head, smiling nervously. "Are you sure? I can pay if you want." She insisted.

The man shook his head. "And I insist it's for free, my youngest daughter loves you in that show -oh what's the name. Oh! Stuck in the Middle, she watches it every morning before school."

Your heart practically melted at the man's words, your smile turning soft as you listened intently to their small conversation.

Jenna blushed lightly from embarrassment as she smiled up at the man.

"Oh, thank you so much, sir. How much is it for the pizzas?" She asked as she pulled out a wallet from her pocket.

You shook your head as you squeezed her elbow again, stealing her attention away from her own wallet. "I'll pay for it." You tell her with a smile.

Jenna shakes her own head as she gazes at your face. "No, it's fine, I'll pay."

"Jen, seriously I can pay, you already managed to make it cheaper so you've done your part." You laughed, loosening your hold on her as you shoved your hand into the pocket of your trench coat, searching for your wallet.

"Paying is the least I can do." Jenna argued back as she turned to look at the man who had an amused look on his face, his eyes flickering between you two.

"How much?" She asked again.

"Sixteen." He said with a small chuckle. 

You swiftly pulled out your wallet pulling out a twenty as you placed it on the counter before Jenna or the man could say anything. 

"Y/n!" Jenna complained as she turned to glare at you. You smiled in the man's direction as you ignored the feeling of Jenna's eyes staring into your side profile. 

He bellowed out a laugh as he shook his head, taking the twenty as he fiddled around with the cashier. "Young love." He muttered to himself with a smile.

The man gave you the change along with a small slip of paper with your order number on it. "The food will be ready soon." He says before turning around to help with the orders.

You passed Jenna the slip of paper as the two of you made your way to a bench. Once you two are sitting down you hear her snort a laugh next to you.

"What?" You asked with a nervous smile, your fingers tapping against your cane. Jenna had a smirk on her face as she fiddled with the paper. "We're order number sixty nine." She explained in a dirty voice as she resisted the urge to laugh. 

You couldn't help but laugh lightly. "Seriously? What are you, a teenage boy?" You teased her, shuffling closer to her subtly.

"Hey! You're laughing too so you find it just as funny as I do." She jabbed back with a playful expression as she gazed at you, a look of pure admiration on her face.

Conversations flowed easily between you and Jenna for the rest of the night, almost as if it was the easiest thing ever. As easy as walking, listening even breathing.

The two of you ate your beyond amazing pizzas after giggling like children after hearing the man's voice booming voice yell, "Sixty nine!" across the street. 

Jenna drank all of the cherryade to herself but you honestly didn't mind, you stole a few sips and that was more than enough for you. The drink itself was sweet and okay at best.

Hours passed as you and Jenna sat on the bench, chatting and laughing away like there was no tomorrow. Eventually the two of you had to part ways as it somehow reached midnight before you even knew it.

Jenna, the gentlewoman she is, took you home and even walked you to your door.

You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears as you lingered in the doorway to your house, your body facing Jenna's.

 "I had a really good time, Jenna, thank you." You say, Jenna smiles at you as she takes a small step closer to you. "It definitely wasn't how I expected the night heading but I really enjoyed myself too."

Swallowing your anxiety you smiled at her taking your own limpid step closer to her.  "Does that mean there will be another date?" You ask her in a hopeful voice, your anxiety crawling back up your throat with each word you uttered.

Jenna laughed her heavenly laugh as she bit her bottom lip. "I'd love nothing more than a second date." 

"Love huh? I must've really made a good impression on you then." You teased her in a weak attempt to try to calm down the erratic beating of your heart. Convinced if Jenna and you stayed silent she would've been able to hear it pounding against your chest.

"Wanna know what I would love even more?" Jenna asks in a soft voice, taking her another step closer to you. You shake your head 'no' at her question, a sensation of butterflies gnawing at your stomach.

Jenna moved even closer placing a gentle hand on your waist, a blush burned at the tip of your ears at the feeling. She slowly leaned closer to you until her mouth hovered over your ear, you could feel her breath against your ear. Goosebumps swiftly erupted all over your body at the feeling.

"For a goodnight kiss." She whispered with a smirk, enjoying the way your cheeks burned as furiously as your ears at her words.

Carefully you raised your hand as you placed your palm on her cheek, sighing contently at the feeling of her soft smooth skin. 

Jenna pulled away from your ear as she gazed at your lips; you could feel her low quick breaths against your own lips.

"And I'd love nothing more than to make you happy." You declared in a small voice before pulling Jenna in for a kiss.

The sensation of Jenna's lips on yours immediately caused a larger swarm of butterflies in your stomach as well as making your knees feel much weaker. Your other hand quickly grabbed at her waist, sighing quietly as you kissed Jenna.

She tasted like cherries; a sweet taste you could feel yourself becoming addicted to. 

Jenna's own arm was wrapped around your neck as she pulled you even closer to her.

If you thought your favourite thing about Jenna was her honey like voice, then it definitely had some competition as you could only describe kissing Jenna as one word.

Heavenly.

—————

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[violetarks]

your stupid face makes me insane!

game: danganronpa 2: goodbye despair

character: kuzuryu fuyuhiko

summary: fuyuhiko is beginning to like you instead of just tolerate you, and this discovery changes his world.

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, mx used, second person pov, short fic for a short guy

it was when you were so excited about a test result you got and engulfed fuyuhiko in a tight hug, that the guy began to notice the changes in his attitude towards you. his hand rested on your back, chuckling as you cheered for yourself.

"a perfect score! 'hiko, i got a perfect score!" you gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck in great surprise. he nearly stumbled back by your power, catching himself against his desk. "i can't believe it!"

"get the hell off me. why are you clinging to me?" he huffs, patting your back. your warmth was so inviting.

"because you helped me stay on top of my work." you claim, pulling back just enough to see his face. your hands lay on his shoulders as you smile wide. "you dropped off the assignments to my house, remember?"

"y—yeah? well it doesn't mean shit..." he mutters, turning away. truthfully, he never did that himself. the teacher knew that he lived the closest to you and asked him to do it. but he just got one of his lesser-threatening lackies to drop them off.

when you pull away, he almost misses it. but he tries to not convey it, wondering if peko noticed it. hopefully she hadn't, he wouldn't hear the end of it.

"i've gotta' get home and tell my parents." you say, grabbing your bag from your desk. you pass him, waving 'goodbye' to your friend. "i'll see you tomorrow, fuyuhiko!"

as he waves back at you, he leans against his desk, smiling at himself at little. you were so lively that it made him feel excited for you. it was a well-deserved score, that's for sure. but when he realises that his heart is beating faster than before, he becomes worried. did... you do this? did you make him feel this way?

the thought of you made his face burn even more, making him feel his cheek. luckily the rest of the class was too busy discussing their own scores to notice (except for peko for obvious reasons). when he feels his chest, his heart beating quickly, he understands.

perhaps you've become so close to him that he hadn't noticed it before. the way your laugh emits a smile from him, or how when you hold his hand for even a second, he finds himself missing the warmth not even a second after you let go. oh no... he's got it...

"fuck."

the next week is filled with nervous stares from fuyuhiko towards you. he's never realised how much you actually talk to the other students at school, but now he has. he didn't think about where you would be when you're not with him, but when he sees you speaking to some kid from the reserve classes, he feels a tinge of jealousy.

peko is quick to notice.

"are you alright, master?" she asks, safe in the privacy of their own secluded area. the other people around them were hurried into groups to discuss whatever they wanted or to eat their food together. no mind was paid to them. "are you worried for mx l/n?"

"what? no, don't do anything, peko, geez." he huffs out, leaning his chin in his palm. he watches the student you're with suddenly laugh at something you said, placing a hand on your shoulder as they double forward. "who is that? with y/n?"

peko raises her brows. "you are worried for them. have you grown fond of y/n?"

his cheeks say it all. blushing red and looking baffled, he glances at his bodyguard and scoffs, "no! they're... they're okay, whatever, fuck i don't know."

when did your smile become less annoying and more... attractive?

he hates how he now watches you, waiting for your smile to fall onto your face. your stupid face. why were you suddenly so pretty? his chest tightened at the sight of you suddenly bidding 'goodbye' to your little friend, and then spot him staring at you. you blink at the yakuza, who hurriedly ducks behind the hedges nearby, peko giving you a slight wave. you wave back at her, offering a grin as you make your way to class.

fuyuhiko holds his chest, breathing out slowly to calm himself.

"was... that really necessary?" peko sighs, tilting her head. she looks back at her master with a confused expression. "i don't know if you had noticed before, but mx l/n is not a threat to you. you are allowed to enjoy their company."

"ugh... whatever..." fuyuhiko grunts, standing up straight and fixing his uniform.

"please talk to them soon, if they believe something is wrong between you two then..." peko requests, fixing her sword on her back, "perhaps they will go off to hug someone else? you should tell them how you feel."

fuyuhiko glares at her, blushing profusely. she definitely saw his reaction back in the classroom last week...

but he does as she says, understanding his protector.

"oi. c'mere for a second." fuyuhiko calls out, pointing his eyes at you. you and your friends turn around to him, making the yakuza sigh and look away, a little embarrassed.

sonia, nekomaru, akane and kazuichi immediately turn to you.

"what?" you say to them, furrowed brows.

"obviously he's talking to you!" akane says, pushing you towards him, "we'll see you tomorrow!"

you wave at them as they exit the classroom. it was time to leave, and as the classroom empties out, it is just the two of you.

"what's wrong, 'hiko?" you question, leaning against the desk in front of him. he stands up straight, fixing his collar as you tilt your head at him. "where's peko?"

he had told her to wait with the driver at the front of the school, informing his bodyguard of his plan. to confess... today. to you.

"she's left already. uh, that doesn't matter." he says, shaking his head. you stare at his face, noticing how stressed he was. what was going on with him? he clears his throat, standing up straight with his short stature. his hip knocks against his desk. "i wanted to talk to you about—"

"fuyuhiko!" you gasp, moving closer to him. he freezes up, watching as you gently push him aside to look at his desk. "ah, your essay! you spent all of lunch finishing it!"

he follows your line of vision, seeing the juicebox he was drinking now spilt over, its contents all over his finished paper.

"f—fuck!" he swears, picking up his essay and trying to shake it dry. but it's futile. "god damnit... i can't catch a fucking break..."

"ah... this isn't good." you sigh, putting the drink in the trash. you grab the tissues from the teacher's desk and begin wiping up the mess. fuyuhiko feels so guilty; he messed up his assignment and now you're cleaning it up for him. you look back at fuyuhiko, gathering the soiled tissues. "hey... i can help you type it out again. i'm pretty fast on the keyboard. as long as you have your drafts?"

you're so nice to him that it makes him feel even more guilty. he's the leader of a dangerous gang... and you're the sweetest person he's ever met. how could he ruin your life?

he feels ashamed to have ever thought you and him could work out.

"no. shit... no, it's okay..." he responds, scrunching up his wet paper and throwing it out on the way to the exit. "sorry for wasting your time."

"'hiko? what were you—"

you get cut off as he slams the door. maybe he truly was pissed off about his paper?

peko notices his demeanour when he walks to the car. she decides against asking how the confession went.

fuyuhiko hates the two sides of the coin. he wanted to tell you, how much he likes you and how much he wants to be with you. he wants to tell you how much he admires you. but how could you ever accept his feelings, when you're an angel sent from heaven? you don't know how he feels about you, and it's like a race fuyuhiko can't stop running. he's willing to suffer, to love you without you knowing, even if it means that you will never date.

the next month is quiet for the two of you. fuyuhiko watches you from afar, admiring how you talk to the class and how you offer your help to everyone. he hates the differences between you two because you could never truly date, but... at the same time, that's why he had fallen for you. you're different from him and that makes it even better.

you notice his change in behaviour, how he takes different hallways to avoid you, and how he purposefully leaves the classroom as soon as possible just so you couldn't stop him. so when you finally corner him in the school garden, alone (you had bumped into peko who had went to the bathroom and asked her where he was), you know that this could be your only chance.

"what the hell do you want?" he asks coldly, looking down at his book. he has a leg over his knee and he leans back against the bench. he tries to hide his nerves, but his hands shake.

"what's up with you lately?" you ask, crossing your arms. you're pissed off. he glances at you quickly. "you've been avoiding me for weeks on end, no explanation? did... did i do something?"

when he stares at you, you know he's stumped. but he just turns his body away from you. "i don't fucking know, did you? leave me alone."

it's then that you've decided that you've had enough. why was he so... so annoying? with no explanation! you said that, right? you told him that? could he not tell that you were irritated with his attitude? you just couldn't understand how he could seemingly like your company one day, and then decide you're the plague the next!

in your frustration, you yank the book out of his hands and hold it up.

"the fuck? give it back, moron!" he scoffs, reaching to grab it from his position.

you hold it away from his reach, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing him back against the bench. his back hits the wood with an 'oof' and he stares at you, burning cheeks and glowing pink. you rest your hand on the bench right behind his shoulder, now towering over him.

"h—hey!" he stammers, getting redder and redder by the second.

"look at me. what did you want to tell me that day? in the classroom?" you say, looking determined. you were sick of playing games now, you needed to force it out of him. "remember? i want to hear it now."

"tch, you're... you suddenly grew a backbone or somethin'?" he huffs out, trying to look away but he can't seem to stray from your eyes, "it doesn't fucking matter anymore, that was ages ago."

"it matters, to me. was that the reason why you suddenly became so cold to me?" you ask, tilting your head at him.

he can't tell if you truly know and you are just teasing him now, or if you were actually curious. but he feels his heart racing at this point, he doesn't know if he can keep his frustration in.

"because—!" he begins, catching himself. his voice grows rougher, but you don't falter. "i just—ugh, you don't even..."

you watch him fail to collect his thoughts, making you grow a little sympathetic. you sigh, letting go of him and placing his book back into his hands. instead of leaving, you sit down beside him, close he notes, and face him.

"you can tell me, 'hiko. i'd never judge you." you state.

he knows that, he's damn sure you'd never judge anyone, but he needs to find some confidence. taking a deep breath, he closes his book and places it to the side, finally facing you. you begin to rest your expression.

"that day... i wanted to tell you about—about how i feel about you." he says, roughly putting his words together. you raise your brows. "listen, it's not like i want you to do anything 'bout it, but i—i really... really like you..."

your lips part slightly as you listen to him. fuyuhiko grows anxious at that.

"like i said, i don't expect a fucking thing! i just wanted to tell you, alright? you don't need to say a thing!" he huffs out, waving his hands, "i, uh, i'd really appreciate it if you just didn't tell—"

"i really really like you too, 'hiko." you respond, holding his hand now. he's frozen, suddenly closing his mouth to stop his rambling. you give a small smile at his reaction. "i won't tell anyone, trust me. i... i can't believe you ignored me for something like that, fuyuhiko. how silly."

"sh—shut up..." he says, clutching your hand as your chuckle, "i didn't wanna' tell you because we're so different."

"well, i like you because you're different, fuyuhiko. you live an exciting life and you always have something to say. it's never dull with you, and i love that." you admit to him, trying to calm him down a little. he offers a smile too, a little one but it's still present. you suddenly stand up, tugging him along with you. "c'mon. i'll treat you to lunch, okay?"

he sheepishly shrugs his shoulders. "whatever... i'm sorry."

"it's okay." you say, smiling softly. he still looks upset with what he's done, so you lean towards him and press a kiss to his freckled cheek. it grows warm beneath your lips, making you grin again. when you pull away, he drags a hand to cover his face. "you're so cute."

"shut your mouth!" he scowls, marching forward and holding your hand. he trudges along, you following behind in a fit of laughter. "you're the worst!"

he could never thank you enough for being how you are.

[padfootreggie]

Nemesis

Luke Castellan x OC

Warnings: daughter of Athena reader, smut, enemies with benefits, threats, hickeys, rough sex, makeouts

Summary: Valerie was practicing her archery until a boy decides to flirt with Luke's girl.

I whine finally sitting up, my sister had woken me up for breakfast. Quickly I grab my orange camp half-blood shirt but its shrunk in the dryer "fuck- Annabeth do you have an extra shirt?"

Annabeth sighs "you got paint on the last shirt I gave you Val, I don't really want to" I groan "I'm sorry again, please pleaseee"

She ignores me, I groan putting on the shirt. It's actually kinda cute. Then I change into my last pair of pajama shorts and sandals.

I start running to get some food. Hopefully they didn't finish me. I sit at my cabins table grabbing some grapes.

Some people stare at my outfit, sure it's a bit tight but what can I do? Oh well, I'll do laundry later. I can feel some special person staring deeply into my soul, of course it's stupid Luke

He glared at me angrily, staring me up and down before going back to his happy facade. I yawn finishing my breakfast.

Soon I walk off to the place I love most, the archery field. I grab a bow and arrow, and start shooting. I'm wrather good at archery now.

I practiced a lot over the years I'm been here, I've been here since I was 15, now I'm 18. Luke decided to walk over with that annoying smirk on his face.

Sure Luke is attractive, but something about him just gets on my nerves. He's so talkative and looves to annoy me.

I work on my practice, trying to find what's wrong with my form. Until I hear this grating voice "Hey princess" a boy from Ares says.

He's been trying to get with me for a month. He's a know player, but he's so pretty. I force a smile on my face batting my eyes "hey, Christian" my voice suggestive and innocent.

Christian smirks watching my body "so how's everything going?" I turn my body away trying to focus on practice I mutter "alls fine, and you?"

He goes closer and closer until our bodies mesh together. I notice Luke glaring, I smirk making eye contact as I slightly grind against the boy.

Christian moans in my ear. I feel so icky, but if it gets on Luke's nerves I'll do anything. Luke walks over intimidating Christian with Luke looking furious despite his usual fake personality.

The boy who was practically needy for me becomes distant. Luke smiled "you mind if I take Valerie for a second Christian?"

Christian scoffs but nods, obviously disappointed that Luke came. Luke practically drags me away to Hermes cabin.

I huff "Luke where are you taking me? Let me go!" Trying to act like I'm mad but I'm enjoying this. Luke is extremely possessive over me.

Since I'm 'his girl' all we do is hook up though, can never actually be together...right? The cabin is empty, still messy and cluttered.

Luke pushes me onto his bed grunting "why was Christian practically fucking you out there?!" I whine being pushed down.

"He went to me, Luke it's not my fault!" I pout, yelping when he pulls down my small shorts.

He whispered "and wearing this shit? Your begging for me baby you know how I hate others seeing what's mine!"

I cackle "I'm 'yours?' You can't even be near me in public!!" He huffs "you know what I fucking mean Val"

Luke rubs my clothed clit, my purple panties drenched in arousal. I whine as my puffy pussy is rubbed by Luke.

Pulling down my panties he stares at my shirt angrily "fucking gods such a small shirt, baby it's like your trying to make me fuck you on the tables out there. I bet you'd like that huh? Letting everyone know who you belong to?"

I bite my lower lip whining, he unzips his jeans just enough to take out his dick. I moan at the sight, he's so needy. His tip a pretty pink.

Pre-cum leaks down his cock. It's been so long since we've done this. He pushes into me, not caring if I'm hurt or not.

Moaning my back arches, he fills me up so goodly, it's like he's made for me. His hips piston into my throbbing pussy.

Luke breathes out "been a long time so fucking tight for me babe." My back arches, and my toes curl. Sweat drips down my forehead.

It never takes him long to make me cum, it's been such a long time without cock I could cum in seconds I swear.

A tight feeling forms in my stomach, I'm so close. Luke fists my curls, pulling tightly. I moan and whine louder, showing him I'm close.

He goes faster if that's possible he growls "would he ever fuck you like this Val? Huh?" Me being fucked dumb I can't answer.

I shake my head no, a whimpering mess. My pussy tightens around his veiny dick. Making me cry out, Luke bites my shoulder.

He groans going harder, I love his sounds. They make him seem more human as he pounds into my dripping pussy.

I whine, back arching. I cry into his neck. "L-Luke I'm sorry! I won't talk to him ev-er again I swear I swear!!"

Luke only laughs feeling my squirt on his cock, he covers my mouth with his large hand "Quiet Val, don't want a camper to hear you hm?"

Lewd moans, and big slaps fill the cabin. After maybe 45 minutes I'm pretty sure I came 4 times, I'm so overwhelmed with pleasure.

I cry out "Luke I'm so-sory ple- n'more!!" I'm just mumbling words, stuttering and whining. Yet he keeps going. Luke whimpers "who do you belong to baby?"

Mumbling and crying I finally answer "you!! Luke C-Castellan I be-brlobg to you!!" He groans Cumming on my stomach, it's drooping down my sides from how long he's held in.

He lays his body on mine groaning. He kisses my cheeks, and neck for a while. We fall asleep both knowing we'll hate each other again in the morning...

--------------------------✩-------------------------

A/n: I hoped you liked this! It's so fun writing stuff like this bc sometimes I get butterflies from my own writing😭 who wants more Valerie?

[panda-writes-kpop]

look at me! look at me!

a/n: @sanccharine apologies for the late fic... 🧍‍♀️ but it's done and it's fluffy!! everyone say yay!! happy late birthday, my friend ❤️

tw: alcohol consumption, paladin schemes, poor taste in party games

related fics: sorry for party rockin'!, we're never getting back together (like ever?)

♡ Masterlist ♡

summary: you invite chou tzuyu, a girl you know nothing yet everything about, over for a quiet night of studying. things don't go to plan as you're invited to a party and forced to reveal your feelings for each other in a not-so-glamorous way.

You usually don't have time for parties. With classes, hobbies, and friends in the mix, you're squeezed for time on a regular basis. Although you try to find time to go out and have fun, life usually has other plans for you.

So here you are, 6 p.m. on a Saturday, doing homework for a class.

What a life.

Your phone rings with a familiar tone. You didn't have one set for most of your contacts except the Paladins, your family, and Chou Tzuyu.

Since the sound emanating from your phone is one of Hongjoong's mixtapes that he sent to you, you know exactly who's calling you.

"Hey, Tzuyu," You answer the phone before pausing your typing at your computer, "what's up?"

"Do you mind if I come over and study? There's so much noise at the house, I can't concentrate-"

"No problem," You answer quickly, albeit a bit too quickly for friendly chatter, "You need a ride?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. Are you sending an Uber?"

"Nah, I'll ask Katie. She won't mind." You pull the phone away from your ear after turning on speaker mode.

Although Katie was the affectionate boomer hater, she'd gladly bend over backward to please you. You often wished that she'd take care of herself as well as she took care of you... but you didn't mind using your "Katie's Favorite Paladin" privileges every now and again.

You hear Tzuyu sigh as something in the background hits a wall and shatters.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. See you then."

Ever the punctual woman, Tzuyu ends the phone call before you can engage in any friendly chatter. You wonder if you'd even call yourself friends - sure, you two hang out a lot, but all you talk about is classes, homework, or your friends' stupid antics.

You want to know more about her - who is Chou Tzuyu, really?

And why do you have a crush on her?

~

"Thanks for letting me study here tonight. If I had to mediate another fight, I would've lost it." Tzuyu mumbles as she unloads her stationary onto your desk.

You grab a chair from another room before moving your shit to the side. She offers you a smile before opening her laptop as you sit down and start to work on your own things.

"Hey, you two need anything?" Katie peeks into the room as you two look up at her.

"I'm good, thanks." Tzuyu says as you nod.

"Since you pre-made some snacks for us, I'm alright."

"You didn't have to-"

"No, it's no trouble, Dami called me earlier and I've been making food since. I trust that you two will leave some leftovers." Katie pushes away Tzuyu's concern before grabbing a set of car keys. "If you two change your mind, the party's only a block away. Feel free to walk over and join the rest of human civilization."

With that, Katie heads out of the apartment, leaving you and Tzuyu to your own devices.

~

"Do you want to order a pizza or something?" You ask as you close your computer.

Katie's pre-made snacks are now nothing but crumbs - perhaps you can shoulder the blame to King again?

Yet again, Katie and Tzuyu were friends, so she'd hopefully let it slide.

"I'm full, thanks." As always, she doesn't offer any friendly chatter.

Tzuyu quietly packs up her things, but she doesn't make any effort to leave the apartment. Neither do you, but you can't find the words to say in order to engage in any meaningful conversation.

"Are you in the mood for some hell-raising?" You ask as you grab your phone. "I don't know if parties are your style, but the Paladins make them fun for everyone."

"I'll go if you do." She softly says as you grab your jacket.

"Let's get going, then."

(You really need to work on your conversational skills.)

~

The party was already hectic when the two of you arrived. People were already drunk (people being two of the three older Paladins - at least Neon had his shit together).

"I thought this was supposed to be 'an intimate gathering among friends'?" Tzuyu quips as she leans against the door.

"Word gets out fast, I guess." You shrug before making your way towards the kitchen. "Katie?"

"In here!" She yells over the buzz of the crowd as the two of you file into the kitchen. "I'm a bit busy, but I'm glad you could make it. Feel free to mingle if you two would like. Oh, and could you two keep an eye on King and Sparrow for me?"

"I thought that was Neon's job?" You ask as Katie scoffs.

"First off, he's terrible at that job because he usually gets drunk with them. Second, he and Siyeon went to get more booze," Katie smiles to herself before adding, "I'll have to thank Ryujjn later for hiding the rest of the booze."

"You're such a little shit-"

"-I prefer the term matchmaker, thank you very much." Katie corrects you. "Now go find the other boomers before they fuck up my plan."

"You have a plan?" Tzuyu tilts her head as Katie laughs.

"Oh, I always have a plan."

~

"Because I'd rather not have to get infected by a parasite to get your attention. Being bitten by a vampire sounds less painful." Tzuyu says before you cough into your drink.

After hustling the crowd for a little bit of money, since you know how drunk Sparrow and King can get, Katie invites the gawking crowd to play another game.

"How about we play Spin the Bottle?"

It was a terrible idea, really, since tempers had already been flaring a bit. But what was wrong with a little more chaos?

You had joined the small crowd that was headed towards another part of the living room. You noticed some familiar faces - Katie, Jinsoul, Dami, Ryujin, and Heejin, among others - but Tzuyu hung back from the crowd.

"Come on over and observe the chaos. You don't have to play." You mouth to her as you make eye-contact with her.

"Are you sure that you don't mind me watching?" She says as you nod to her.

She walks over as people start to make another circle - this one is more messy, but you take a seat in between Katie and Ryujin.

Katie takes the bottle and slides it towards Jinsoul on the other side of the circle.

"You should go first since you didn't get to play Truth or Drink." Katie smiles at Jinsoul, who eagerly grabs the bottle from the floor.

"Let's make this party interesting." She spins the bottle as Tzuyu takes a seat behind the seated circle.

You find yourself holding your breath as you watch the bottle spin around and around on the floor. Nervousness develops in your stomach - not because you're nervous about kissing one of the girls, but you're more nervous about kissing a girl in front of Tzuyu.

You weren't sure exactly what the two of you were - friends? in the talking stage? two acquaintances? study buddies? somewhere in-between?

But she always made time to see you. Between her extracurriculars and the hefty class schedule, Tzuyu had little time to spare. You didn't fail to notice that she didn't have homework to work on when you agreed to study together. You'd even catch her staring at you sometimes, when she didn't catch you first.

You never called each other friends or anything more, but you want to know more about Chou Tzuyu. What were you doing together when you didn't even know what you were to each other?

You're playing with fire when you talk to Tzuyu. You fall deeper for her, unsure if she feels the same way.

Now, as the bottle slows down, it feels like the flames are burning you alive.

But you're lucky as it lands on Heejin, who happily accepts a cheek kiss from her friend.

This was a truly terrible idea, you think to yourself, as Heejin grabs the bottle and spins it.

Maybe you'll make it out of this without ruining whatever you have with Tzuyu, or without embarrassing yourself.

~

Of course, nothing was ever that simple.

Heejin's spin landed on Yeji, who drunkenly chased the former around until a kiss was successfully planted on Heejin's forehead.

Yeji, after three failed attempts, managed to spin the bottle enough for it to land on Ryujin. Cheers erupted as the first lip-to-lip contact was made.

Then the drama starts as Ryujin spins the bottle and it lands to your right.

The neck of the bottle points directly at Katie, who stares in shock before leaning over to look at Ryujin.

You feel like you're in-between something serious as Dami, on the other side of the circle, looks on with curiosity.

Ryujin moves to the side before pulling Katie close. The two share a quick kiss before returning to their spots. Katie takes the bottle in her hands, but she quickly shakes her head and hands it back to Ryujin.

"You should go again. It's only fair since you didn't get to play earlier." Katie says as Ryujin nods in agreement.

"Sounds good to me." Ryujin spins the bottle as Katie nervously bites her lip while staring at a single spot on the floor.

You offer her a sympathetic pat on the back that helps relax her a bit.

Katie sighs in relief before muttering, "I knew things were going to get tense, but I was hoping that I would be outside of the drama."

You smile to yourself as the shenanigan-making Paladin gets bitten in the ass by a product of her own design.

"You shouldn't have played with fire if you didn't want to get burned." You tease as she scoffs.

"That's why I wanted to sit next to Ryujin. The bottle never lands on the person next to the spinner." She says as the bottle Ryujin spins on lands on you.

"I wish the situational irony was less subtle." You grumble as Katie offers you a quick side hug.

"You shouldn't have played with fire if you didn't want to get burned~"

"Very funny." You roll your eyes as you face Ryujin.

"I get to kiss two Paladins in one night? I should buy a lottery ticket or something." Ryujin smirks before leaning in to kiss you.

You nervously bite your lip before starting to lean in - Tzuyu won't mind, right? It's just a silly children's game.

One that could ruin any chance of you two being more than friends.

Luckily, your lips never meet Ryujin's as Tzuyu hauls you off of your feet and drags you into the kitchen.

"Wait a minute-" You try to protest, but her grip on the back of your shirt is ironclad as she pulls you away from any prying eyes.

A few mutters ring out from the group your left behind, but screams quickly take over as another victim is selected.

"What was that about?" You say as Tzuyu lets go of your shirt.

"I didn't want you to kiss Ryujin."

"Yeah, I figured that one out when you hauled me away from her in a hurry. It's almost like you're the one who wanted to kiss me." You joke, just as you always do with all of your friends.

She looks away from you, towards the window that faces the street.

She's deadly serious.

You feel like a total jerk.

Tzuyu navigates towards the door with disappointment on her face as you trial after her.

"Wait, hold on, I didn't think you seriously liked me-"

"-of course I did! Why else do you think I want to hang out with you and do homework? I don't even have homework half of the time!" She sounds exasperated as she pauses her stride to glance at you.

"I wasn't really sure if we were friends or if you wanted to be more." You offer her your hand, and she takes it. "I'm sorry if I gave mixed signals or if I pushed you away from me. I didn't mean to, at all."

"I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to pull you away from your friends. I just didn't want you kissing any other girl at this party.." She trails off before you encouragingly squeeze her hand.

"-besides you?" You smile at her. "Don't worry, you're the only one I've thought about kissing all night."

You lean forward and kiss her cheek. Tzuyu offers you a wide smile, one that you've rarely seen.

It's enough to tempt you closer as you pull back and go for her lips this time.

Unfortunately, your bliss is short-lived as Sparrow slams the door open. You and Tzuyu immediately part - she's red in the face as you're trying to wipe her lipstick off your face.

"King got mud on my shoes, that motherfucker!" She screams, completely unaware to your presence. "NEOOOOON!"

She hollers for the oldest Paladin before stumbling into the living room as a mud-clad King walks into the house.

"Have I ever told you about the one time-" He says to absolutely no one before wandering into the kitchen.

Kim Lip follows closely behind, throwing you a wink before shoving King into the kitchen to give you two some privacy.

"Your friends are something, but mine aren't much better." Tzuyu laughs before sliding in next to you. "Shall we rejoin the party?"

"Yeah, otherwise Katie will be making up all sorts of lies about me." You mutter.

"C'mon, lovebirds, join the fun! We swapped games, and Twister's getting pretty intense!" Katie yells as the crowd screams in unison before someone falls to the ground.

It's never uneventful around her, but you don't mind having a slice of normalcy with Tzuyu. Especially since she's holding your hand and kissing your face every once in a while.

Hopefully, the blackmail isn't as bad as what you have on the other Paladins.

[poetryandfluffycats]

hihihi can i req mao being like really rough but praising u alot throughout it ?? hopefully that made sense, i love ur work btw !! <33

A/N: mao fuckers your dinner has been served

Pairing: Mao Isara x fem!reader

Content: You never get to see your boyfriend due to his work as an idol and your own busy lifestyle. So, when you do see each other, all that pent up energy from the time you were apart comes to life.

Warnings: NSFW, penetration sex(p in v), barely any preparation, making out, neck biting, hair pulling, very small amount of knee riding, rough sex, praise, kinda pussydrunk mao

Words: 1.7k

NSFW oneshot under cut!

It was more than often that Mao got horny when you weren't around, which when you thought about it, was a lot of the time. Neither of you could ever get your schedules to line up, leading to dry spells that went on for weeks at a time and lonely night after lonely night with his hand down his pants and your name on his lips. And, if you were being honest, you found yourself in the same position most nights as well.

It was safe to say that the two of you were both extremely pent up, and just about ready to explode when you did see each other.

/------

"God, I missed you so much"

Maos hands held you in a earth shattering grip as he pushed you up against the wall, lips attacking your own in a sloppy kiss. There had been no lead up to it. No 'hello', 'how are you', nothing. The very second the door to his dorm was shut behind you he was pulling you in, pushing you up against the kitchen wall and was all over you like a bad rash.

Not that you minded of course, this was exactly what you had come over for.

You were weak in his hold, not able to do anything expect melt into his touch and let him have his way with you. A moan bubbled from your throat as his knee came up, nudging itself in between your legs and delivering that delicious friction your core had been begging for. Your hands flew up to the back of his head and clamped around his red locks, tugging with a force that made him whine in pain and his already half-hard cock twitch in his pants.

"Shit, Mao, slow down!~" You managed to pull away to catch your breath, but only for a spilt second before Mao dove right back in. Teeth tugged into your bottom lip and his tongue slipped into the cave of your mouth, battling with your own in a way that some would deem animalistic."Mao!"

It was hard to tell whether the noises coming from you were whines of protest or moans of pleasure. Probably the latter given the way your pussy clenched around nothing and leaked due to his actions, something that he could definitely feel through the very thin fabric of your leggings.

Mao pulled away from your lips with a loud 'pop!', a string of drool still connecting the two of you together. His eyes were blown completely widen with lust, his pupils nearly blacking out the blue of his irises. "Can't, 'm sorry I just... fuck, want you so bad right now" Once again he dove in, going for your neck this time. "You smell so good"

You kept your hands clenched tight in his hair as he continued his assault, each nibble at your neck sending a million waves of electricity down your spine and into your lower belly, a similar feeling to if you had walked straight into an electric fence. It was a feeling that no matter how many times you felt it it never ever got tiring, the moans that slipped from your throat being proof of that.

Maos hands found their way to your hips and he pulled you up by them, your legs wrapping around his waist to stay balanced as he rutted his erection against you. Sometimes you forgot just how strong he was. He could use this bare strength to throw you halfway across the room with little to no effort at all, and yet he chose to use it to hold you close as if you were his lifeline. It was oddly romantic, in a weird way.

"I'm gonna fuck you right here, okay?" His voice was muffled by the skin of your neck but the lust behind his tone was enviable. "You have no idea how much I've been wanting this, christ, every night I've been dreaming of you, dreaming of this pussy. You're so good, so fucking good"

It was like you were a teenage virgin again, desperately humping his knee for any type of relief for that growing knot in your chest. Maos words had your head spinning like you were drunk and yet you were completely sober. His touch was intoxicating, him alone was intoxicating. Just the right amount of everything you could have possibly ever needed.

"Please, just fuck me already, can't handle being teased.." Your whimpers and whines were like sweet music to your partners ears as they split from your mouth, a melody of pleads that he could listen to for hours upon hours.

That's if had any patience. Unfortunately for you, he didn't.

Suddenly, your legs were dropped from around Maos waist and he was bending you over the kitchen counter. Your ass hung high in the ass and nudged against the raging strain in his pants, the only thing keeping the two of you apart being the flimsy, cheap fabric of your leggings and the denim of his jeans. You were sure that both of those restrictions would be gone soon enough, anyway.

A single veiny hand came up to rest in your hair, tugging your head back whilst the other hand made quick use of his belt. The metal hit the ground with a 'clink!' noise that rang throughout the whole dorm. The sound was followed swiftly by the sound of a zipper being undone, the rustling of jeans falling to the floor, and finally the slapping of Maos cock hitting his stomach as it was freed from his boxers.

"Mao, please-"

"Your beautiful, (name)"

The head of his cock brushed against your clothed ass, earning a low hiss from Mao, and his hand that was once pulling your hair now coming down to tug at the waistband of your leggings and panties. "I'm not gonna prep you, gonna fuck you nice and raw, okay? Can you take it?"

You nodded your head yes. God, yes. You wanted him to completely ruin you from the inside out, to make your hole a mold for his cock. It felt as if you were wet enough to fill an entire olympic swimming pool, that's how long-and how much-you had been wanting and waiting for this. Mao seemed to get that message pretty quick, and within a matter of seconds both your pants and your panties were being ripped off your body. Sometimes you liked to joke and call Mao a tiger, because of his spiky red hair and general 'cat-like' attitude at times. But right now? It felt like the joke was on you.

At last, the tip of his cock met your aching heat. It had a cold and slimy feeling to it, one that made you shudder at the contact and buck your hips backwards to met his. The action earned you a blissful groan from Mao, and one very light smack to your ass. Both had you mewling.

"Good girl, you're so good. Are you ready for me?"

"Stop teasing me! Of course I'm ready-ah!"

Before you could finish your sentence Mao was pushing himself deep inside you, stretching you beyond your own limits due to the lack of preparation. Your entire body burned with pleasure, and in no world did you ever think that pain could be this fun. Strings of babbles and moans were ripped from your throat, none of them even remotely intelligent, but it was enough to let Mao know how good you were feeling.

"So tight, feels like you're gonna crush me" Mao whined, leaning forward-making it so you were trapped under his weight-to press a sloppy kiss to the back of your neck. "My girl, all mine yeah? I could fuck you forever and never get bored, your perfect"

The feeling of his thick length inside you was brainrotting. The veins along his shaft rubbed and prodded the walls of your pussy, and if you could look down to see your stomach you were sure there would be a bugle he was so deep. Your body tried desperately to adjust to his size, but every time you felt that delicious pain go away it was like he grew an inch bigger, just enough to torture you.

"Ma-Mao! 's too big!~" Your mind had turned to such mush that you couldn't even think any coherent thoughts, the only words in your brain being his name and 'please' over and over again. "Too much!"

"Shh, its okay baby, it'll feel good in a bit. You can do it" He cooed into your ear, and you could feel the faint outline of a smile on his lips. "I'm not gonna last long, shit, just hold on for me"

You nodded, or at least you think you did. You might have just moaned and sobbed a bit more, but whatever you did, it was enough permission for Mao to start moving.

His pace was rough and fast from the get-go, never giving you a moments peace as his rammed his cock in and out of you. Each thrust had you shaking, screaming, gripping onto the marble counter for dear life and for sure leaving starches all over the surface. The very tip of his cock brushed ever so slightly over your cervix, something that felt like it should hurt but instead made you see stars. That mixed with his balls slapping against your clit, it was enough to drive you mad if you weren't already.

"That's it, fuck, you're amazing" Maos praises were rushed and breathless as he neared his high, thrusts becoming sloppy as ever. "You're gorgeous like this. I love you, I love you so much"

And just like that, you were cumming. All over his cock, all over the floor, all over the counter, everywhere. It was the quickest and messiest orgasm you had ever had, and yet it still had you feeling like you had gone to heaven and back. Your walls clenched tightly around him, milking him for all he was worth and squirting your juices all over.

That feeling was too much for Mao, and had him releasing his seed into you not long after your explosive high. It filled you up to the brim, coating your insides white and some of it was even dripping out of your hole and onto the ground beneath you. Mao thrusted once, twice, and then a third time before slumping over on top of you, body completely limp from exhaustion.

"Holy shit, (name)..." The both of you took a few seconds to regain yourselves before Mao spoke again, a breathless laugh leaving his lips. "I think I just saw God"

You snorted at that. "Yeah. Yeah, me too"

[bettyfrommars]

hi loves

a wee announcement/bit of reflection below the cut

nothing heavy, just some thoughts & updates

First of all, I want to say I love this fandom so much. Truly I do. It has carried me though possibly the hardest, loneliest year of my life (and this ol' girl has been though some dark times). I've made friendships here that I hope to cherish for the rest of my life.

I came into fanfiction in October of last year, after not writing anything substantial for almost a decade. My dear friend at the time said she was looking for a specific Eddie Munson story, so I wrote it for her. I wrote it in first person because I didn't even understand how "reader perspective" was a thing, that's how wet behind the ears I was to this world. My friend, on the other hand, is a well-versed fic reader, and I distinctly remember messaging her like, "okay, what the hell is a Y/N??"

I spent that entire dark, cold winter writing and passing it to her in parts like notes in a classroom. The rush of getting back to something I loved so deeply after so much time away turned me into a monster. I lived and breathed that story. We sent endless messages back and forth every day about what each character would do next, imagining ourselves in that world, with Eddie. We made playlists, we cried. We screamed and giggled and kicked our feet when they finally kissed. We mourned the loss when it ended and moped around a bit before going back to read it all over again. Some 40k words and four months later I realized, holy shit, I think I write fanfiction now?

In a way, fanfiction saved my life. It brought me back to a part of myself I had buried, a part of me that worried it might never see the light of day again. It came crawling out of the ground, gasping for air like, "you better stretch your fingers bitch because I have a lot to say."

In April, I started posting here when the fandom was notably beginning to wane, but I was happy to see there were so many still going hard for our man. I kinda creeped in, like a little scuttling crab, and was grateful to find that a handful of you embraced me.

Long story short, I am NOT leaving, not at all. I know the tone is there, but that is not what this is, lmao. I will hopefully keep this blog for as long as you will have me. I plan to finish writing I'm on Fire and Death Becomes Us, as well as maybe another bit for gargoyle!Eddie, and nightmare!Eddie, but the other series I've started (or planned to start) will stay on hiatus for a while, possibly forever. I will continue to post blurbs and hc's and whatnot, but I won't be committing to any new series or long fics.

My masterlists will remain intact for the time being for those who want to enjoy what is there. That being said, The Nightmare Factory and Stop the World and Melt with You, might be taken down in the future only because I plan to re-work them into original stories. I have a second non-fandom blog in the works that is dedicated to monsters, nightmares, and magic realism, and I will let those who are interested know about it when the time comes.

Mostly, I wanted to let you know that, even if you notice some changes, I will continue to persist with "My 2 Joe's" delulu era, possibly until the earth swallows me up. I am no longer taking requests, but my asks will always be open for thots, blurbs, obsessions, etc. You know how much I love hearing from you.

That's all really. Perhaps this is simply one of those "end of year" thought dumps, but I also wanted to say a heartfelt Thank You to those who continue to support me, enjoy my work, and share it. My Ride or Die monsterfuckers and biker Eddie enthusiasts. My nightmare Eddie dreamers, my Twilight Zone Eddie pineapple heads. My gargoyle Eddie romantics who cheer on our Stone Boy, and my Hybrid Steve lovers who leave their windows open at night. My True Blood friends who appreciate a vampire Eddie who is nothing like Bill Compton. My darlings, my fellow rebel rousers and misfits, my friends.

This is a very symbiotic relationship, and I could not/would not do this without you ❤️