#fucking moving for once. but then if I DO be open and honest I may get thrown in the damn ward

[chibelial]

I have to start all over with a new psychiatrist tomorrow and I’m just so fucking excited to be belittled and ignored again, can’t wait /s

[thesoftestpunk]

I want you, Baby I need you

Summary: your friend tells you someone may like you and so stupidly, you begin to think about them a little differently

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: I feel like my brain fog made the pacing weird :/

Warnings: bullying, girls being mean :(, lots of fluff and pining!!

Main Masterlist

Pt.2

“Guess what?” One of your teammates, Christina, asks the second you place your tray down on the table, looking too smug for your liking. Before you can even ask, she’s talking over you. “The freak has a crush on you.”

“Who?” You genuinely forget who she’s referring to for a second, but her scoff seems to jog your memory. “Oh. Eddie Munson?” 

“Who else?” She sneers, and everyone else around you laughs like it’s some huge joke, but you’re certain she isn’t joking. “God, how embarrassing.”

Your cheeks burn as they laugh even harder. You let out a weak chuckle, feeling the world around you shrink and become suffocating. 

“Yeah,” you let out, trying to play along. “Could you imagine? Me and him?” 

You blatantly refuse to call him a freak. Since moving into town two years ago, you quickly learned city life and small town life were completely different worlds. Despite falling in with the semi-popular crowd by joining the swimming team, you understood the struggle Eddie and his friends had to go through. You weren’t freak status back home, but you weren’t popular either. Not always well known, but always well liked, and your new friends teasing him about the rumor makes you worry about it spreading. For your sake and not his. You don’t want to deal with any sort of teasing from anyone.

Guilt crawls up your throat as you steal a glance toward his table, catching his eye as he curiously looks on at the boisterous scene going on around you. You give a quick smile, which probably comes off as more of a wince, and turn back around. In all honesty, he hasn’t been on your radar. You don’t know much about him other than the fact that he’s loud, labeled The Freak of Hawkins High, and has made a scene or two in class. 

“Oh god,” Christina sighs out, wiping nonexistent tears from her eyes. “Pathetic.” 

Humming half heartedly, you focus on shoving your shitty school food around your tray instead of eating it, a sudden pit sitting heavy in your stomach. Because Eddie having a crush on you actually felt flattering. 

You choose to sit next to him in English, even give a small smile when you sit. There’s still time before the bell rings, and you find yourself glancing over at him. You open and close your mouth, uncertain of what to say until the words suddenly come tumbling out.

“How many tattoos do you have?”

For a second he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him until the silence makes him look up and realize you’re staring straight at him, expectantly. He points to himself as if asking ‘me?’ eyebrows raised and his already wide doe eyes getting even wider. And you nod while fighting off a smile. 

“Why d’you wanna know?” He eyes you suspiciously, certain that whatever information you’re about to get out of him is going to get back to your friends and fuel the constant fire over his head. 

“I dunno,” you shrug a shoulder, but you’re honest. What the fuck were you supposed to say to Eddie Munson anyway? He was intimidating as hell because he put himself in the spotlight like it was nothing. It isn’t like you hate attention, but too much makes you nauseous. “Thinking about getting one, I guess?”

“You guess?” His head tilts, causing his hair to cascade over his shoulder. Of course he would be defensive. Christina was just making fun of him less than an hour ago. 

“It’s- forget it,” you shake your head. You can’t believe you would trust your nasty, mean friends when they said he had a crush on you. 

Turning back to the front of the classroom, you wait painfully for the bell to ring, and once it does, the room fills quickly with slightly out of breath students. A couple of your teammates wave at you until you finally break and they gesture wildly, asking ‘what the fuck are you doing sitting next to him?’ All you can do is give an apologetic shrug and decide you’ll lie to them later and say it was the only seat you could find. They just roll their eyes and pull out their textbooks. 

“Five.” Eddie’s voice surprises you. 

Turning your head, you hope no one sees when you ask. “Did they hurt?”

“No, ‘course not.” He bites back a smile, trying to act all tough. 

“Liar.” Your nose scrunches and it makes him laugh at how cute it is. 

You don’t mean to, truly, but now you look out for Eddie in the halls, stare at him during class, and hope for one more conversation. One that’s less embarrassing, but you do hope. Despite your friend's relentless teasing after English class the other day, you give a small wave back anytime he gives you one. You never initiate first, too shy and afraid it’ll lead to more teasing. This way you can just say you’re being polite when you wave back and they see, but more often than not, they’re too caught up in their own little worlds. Even though you’re scared they’ll tease, you keep an eye out for him and you learn more than you ever knew before. He’s polite. He lets the cheerleaders walk ahead if they bump into each other at a corner in the hall. One arm is tucked behind his back as he sweeps the other out and he bows a little. They give him weird looks respectively, but he just smiles and moves on. He might joke around with his friends, but if you listen closely, you can hear the kindness and compliments hidden underneath the meaning of his words. The group is small, but he holds the same amount of care for each and every one of them. Including his ‘little sheepies’ which you don’t fully understand, but he used a lot of words you don’t understand, and you thought you were smart. After a little investigating, you learn some of them are made up, but you seem to like the fact that he’s nerdy and into this series called Lord of the Rings. 

You’re starting to like Eddie.

“Oh my God,” Christina moves in your line of sight, in front of him. You’d positioned yourself at the cafeteria table so you didn’t have to turn around to subtly watch him anymore. “Are you staring at the freaks?”

“Stop calling them that,” you roll your eyes. “You know I hate that.”

She crosses her arms defensively. “Just, you know, being honest. What’s so interesting about them anyway?”

“Nothing.” You mutter, going back to nibbling on the shitty cardboard pizza they served today. 

She turns around and gets the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen from her when her eyes connect with Eddie’s. 

“Holy shit. You’ve got a crush on The freak!”

“Christina!” You swat at her, but it’s too late. Everyone else at your table already heard and is staring at you incredulously. “I- I do not.”

“Puh-lease. You’ve been making googly eyes at him for weeks at this point!”

“It hasn’t been weeks,” you mutter under your breath.

“Ew!” Another one of the girls scrunches her nose and jabs a thumb in his direction. “Him?”

“Better be careful, Y/N,” another taunts. “Don’t wanna find you in the woods. I heard he, like, sacrificed a girl out there last year. No one’s heard from her since.”

“Oh my god, me too!” Christina pretends to look concerned. “You think that’s what happened to Nancy’s friend too? What was her name? Bev?”

“Didn’t he like…” the girl to your left leans in and stage whispers, but she could be heard from across the room if you listened hard enough. None of them understood the concept of speaking at a normal volume. “Bite a bat's head off?” 

“That was actually Ozzy Ozbourne!” Eddie leans so far back in the chair that the two front legs don’t touch the ground, one of his legs lifted so the bottom of his dirty Reebok’s supports his weight against the table. 

You’re mortified at the idea that Eddie has heard every single word, but he was at the other end of the long table today. 

“Ugh,” Christina rolls her eyes again before turning to face him. “As if we know that freak either!”

“Tina,” you hiss, not wanting to start a scene over this nonsense. 

“Whatever. You don’t have a crush.” She fully faces the table again and starts talking about the party at Jason’s after the game on Friday. 

You go to throw an apologetic look at Eddie, but find him missing from the table, and a couple of his friends send glares your way, making you shrink in shame. 

Eddie isn’t in English, or History, and you find out through the grapevine he skips the rest of the day entirely. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do, but you feel like it’s your fault. The days leading up to the party, he seems to avoid you, eyes darting away quickly and showing up late enough to class that it’s guaranteed there’s no free seats around you. Christina seems to take notice of your sour mood, but only asks once. You lie and say you’re fine, but you feel sick to your stomach. You never actively partook in the bullying, but you never stopped it either. 

The day of the game finally rolls around, filled with school spirit and a pep rally, but once again Eddie is nowhere to be found. Not that he’d ever attended a pep rally in his whole high school career, but you at least expected to spot him at lunch. He’s even absent from your shared classes. After school, you hang around in the parking lot, wasting time before you all have to go home and get ready for the game. You frown as you observe his friends, chatting away aimlessly and occasionally throwing candy around. They hang around what you think is Eddie’s van, but if he skipped all day, why would he be here now? 

“Hey,” Christina’s voice surprises you, quiet and genuine. “Just us girls… you have a crush on Munson?”

“I…” you trail off, surprised she isn’t faking her valley girl voice, and you feel like you can trust her once again since you met her two years ago. She wasn’t your first friend in Hawkins, but you had been close when you first joined the team. “I dunno. He’s actually kinda sweet. Maybe?”

“Seriously?” And then she guffaws, catching you off guard once more. “Ugh, grody! Guys, Y/N actually has a crush on Munson!”

“I- I didn’t say that!” You can’t believe Christina would do something like that. As you watch them all laugh and tease, you wonder when they all got so mean and why you started letting them get away with it. 

“You said maybe. That’s, like, totally a yes!”

“Like it’s such a bad thing to have a crush on me?” 

Everyone quiets as you slowly turn around to find Eddie standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. 

“Eddie, I…” you aren’t even sure what to say as he glares down at you. 

“I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging around you, Munson.” Christina’s voice makes you squeeze your eyes shut in frustrated embarrassment. “Even your parents couldn’t stand to stay around. Must be hard having a cultist son. Fucking embarrassing.”

The lot gets so quiet, you can hear the grinding of his teeth as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t even dignify her with a response, turning and walking away before anyone can see the red staining his cheeks. 

“Tina… that was major harsh.” One of the girls breaks the silence. 

“Oh, eat my shorts, Janice. Are we getting ready at my house or not?” 

Everyone seems to hesitate but Christina was captain of the team. No one was going to say no. Well, no one but you. 

“I’ve, um, got a thing. I’ll meet you guys at the game.” You glance over toward Eddie, watching as he harshly shoves his shoulder back to avoid one of his friends' hands. 

You shouldn’t go to the game, but you do.

Janice called you from Christina’s house, sounding hopeful. You promised to be there, despite your whole body screaming at you to just stay home. Janice promises the whole thing will blow over by Monday, and something else will come along. But it won’t just blow over with Eddie. You know that. He had looked so hurt when you turned around to face him. In all the years of getting bullied, that was the first time he showed anyone what their words did to him. And it was your fault. 

You had promised Janice you’d be there, but when you stand outside the gymnasium, you can’t make yourself go in. Can’t make yourself face who you thought were your friends. So, you walk down a path between the large building and the school and take out a key. The pool was somewhat separated, but you could still hear the muffled band playing when you entered the echoey room. You keep a spare swimsuit in your locker for this exact situation. The sport helped clear your mind and you needed to get rid of the image of Eddie’s broken look.

You swim even after the cheering and the band stops. You swim until you feel like your limbs are going to fall off, and even though you don’t want to, you shower off the chlorine. As you step out into the somewhat cool autumn air, a double door bursts open, and the kids that come spilling out make you stop. 

His little sheepies. Which means… 

Fuck. 

Eddie is the last one out, smile so wide you can’t help but wonder if it hurts. They all talk over each other, but Eddie just seems to watch over in pride. You take a step back into the shadows, hoping your bright multicolored windbreaker doesn’t give you away. 

“Hey!” Is that… Steve Harrington? “You guys were supposed to be done an hour ago.”

“The campaign ends when it ends, Steve!” One of them retorts back. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t have all night Henderson. Let’s go!” 

All three freshmen rush to Steve’s BMW and scramble inside. He and Eddie share a nod before he gets in and peels out of the lot, and you can still hear all of them shouting in excitement. The other three seniors exchange goodbyes before parting ways, but Eddie sticks behind. Neither of you move until all the cars are gone except for his van and yours. Why the fuck hasn’t he moved? 

“Is it just you?” Eddie finally speaks, turning toward your piss poor excuse of a hiding spot. “Or is the rest of the team waiting somewhere?”

“I’m- I’m alone.” It scares you once you realize you’re the only two on the property. Probably the only two within a few miles at this point. “Look, I’m really sorry about them. Christina especially. I don’t know when she got so…”

“Bitchy?”

That makes you breathe out a laugh, not realizing you were holding your breath. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

It’s quiet for a moment as he shifts his weight to his other leg, observing you and the whole situation. 

“Do you want to sit by the pool and talk?” It’s starting to feel pretty creepy outside, and the cold night wasn’t helping your wet hair.

“I thought it was locked after hours.” 

You hold up the bronze key, but offer up an explanation anyway. “My uncle is actually the coach. He got me into swimming competitively in the first place. Technically I’m not allowed to bring friends in but…”

“Good thing I’m not really a friend.” He walks past you and you’re a bit frozen in place, not believing he accepted. 

You’re nervous as you unlock the door once more and wave him inside like he would but you give an awkward curtsy. As he’s turning in a small circle to take in how the water reflects off the walls and ceiling, you slip off your shoes and roll up your jeans as far as you can go. He begins to do the same when he sees you sticking your feet in the water. 

“Jesus Chri-! That’s cold!” His voice bounces off the walls, and your laughter follows. 

“Well, yeah, most pools are.” You tuck your hands underneath your thighs and move your right leg around in small circles, disrupting the water. “Didn’t see you at the game.” 

“That kind of stuff is bullshit. Forced conformity.” Before he goes on a rant, he looks at the sly smile on your face, as if you were going to enjoy this topic of conversation. But he knew you’d react either of two ways if he kept on. Confused, or freaked out. So he leans back on his palms and tries to act casual. “And if I’m guessing right, you weren’t there either.”

“Didn’t feel like it.” You give a halfhearted shrug. “Christina really… what she said about your parents— I just don’t see her the same anymore. I don’t know how it happened, but she just got so mean, and everyone’s too scared to say anything because she's the captain. Sorry, I’m- ranting.”

“Christina wasn’t far off.” 

The admission bounces around as you look at him.

“Eddie…”

“It was forever ago.” He kicks the water, causing a small splash. “Aren’t you co-captain anyway?”

“Yeah? So?” You didn’t think he would know that, and it makes you feel all mushy inside that he knows something so simple about you. 

“So don’t you have us much say as her?”

“With her tyrannical rule? No way.” 

“No shame in running, but sometimes you gotta be the hero.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “I’m sure getting to Mordor would be easier than standing up to Christina.” 

“You’ve read…?”

“No.” That’s a half lie. “Well, sorta. I haven’t gotten very far. I don’t know if it’s my thing, but you talk about it so much, I wanted to check out all the hype.”

Eddie looks taken aback, mouth hung open. 

“Is that what dungeons and dragons is?” You ask curiously, which seems to take him back even more. “I mean everybody says it’s bad, but it’s just nerd shit, right? Sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“It is nerd shit.” He straightens his back at the new topic of conversation. “All it is, is tabletop fantasy role play. Doesn’t have to be like Lord of the Rings. You could have a whole western fantasy campaign. Maybe even in space.” He’s ranting, and god does he know it, but you lean in instead of awkwardly looking away like everyone else does.

“Campaign…?” 

“Well, it’s…” Eddie thinks for a moment before explaining in the most simple of terms how a campaign works. You nod along, enthralled by every detail, even when he derails and starts rambling about character class and stats. He rambles on about their current campaign to help explain better, and he uses silly voices and moves animatedly. You laugh, but not at him. He continues to tease, loving your laugh and that you aren’t making fun of him. His arms flail a bit and he gives a few teasing nudges, but in his excitement he forgets his strength. 

“Wait, Eddie-!” You fall in the water, grabbing on to him in an attempt to stop, but end up pulling him down with you. The both of you come up spluttering, but you end up laughing at the mop of hair on his head. 

“Shit,” he laughs nervously. “It’s deep.”

“Wait. Can you swim?”

“Well, I’m no athlete, but yeah. I can swim.” 

“Well…” you swim forward, a sly smile creeping its way onto your face. “Might as well, right? We’re already in here. You’ll want your jacket off, though. It’s gonna be too much dead weight.”

“Right, I’ll uh…”

“Here, I’ll keep us afloat while you get it off.” 

Before he can understand what’s happening, you wrap your arms around his waist, your face entirely too close to his. With what little space you have, you can see freckles splashing across his face, and you chew on the inside of your cheek to keep your composure. He avoids eye contact as he struggles out of the leather, the tip of his tongue making a surprise appearance, before tossing the jacket aside and it lands with a loud wet slap. 

“Cool. Now good luck catching me!” You splash him a little harsher than you had intended, but you make a dash to escape.

“You’re gonna regret that!” 

You’re a lot better at swimming than he is, almost too fast to be caught, but you slow down after awhile on purpose. As his hand wraps around your ankle, making you squeal, you tell yourself you did it to not wear him out and frustrate him. That you didn’t want to anger him, as he’s pulling you into him and dunking both of you under water. You struggle against his arms, but he’s strong. You can feel the unexpected muscle against your hands, but he lets you go too soon and you both come up gasping for air. 

“Told ya.” water sprays a bit from his mouth as his chest heaves. 

“You cheated.” 

“I never cheat, sweetheart.” He wades toward you slowly, dropping down just until his mouth sinks into the water. 

“Eddie Munson, don’t you dare,” you warn but your tone is too light. “You dunk me again, I’ll- I’ll make sure you smell like chlorine for a week.” 

He doesn’t listen, and you swim backward until your back crashes into the tiled wall. The cold sends a shiver down your spine. Definitely not the way Eddie comes back up, water dripping from his chin and his arms blocking you in on either side of you. His eyes drop to your lips and you find yourself breathing heavily for a completely different reason, your chest brushing against his with every inhale. Neither of you make a move, just admiring every detail you can while breathing each other's air. Just when you think he might, a loud bang comes from one of the locker rooms, making you both jump and look around frantically. You find yourself gripping one of his forearms tightly in shock. 

“We should- we should probably get out.” No one else had access to the pool except your uncle, but you doubted he would come by at midnight. He trusted you to not fool around, and you really hadn’t let him down until now. “I swear the locker rooms are haunted.” 

Still, you don’t move until he does, and swim to the nearest ladder to get out. The only sound is the water from your clothes dripping on the floor, and suddenly you feel exhausted. Your clothes feel heavy as they cling to your skin. Without discussing it, you both start peeling your clothes off, slightly turned away to give each other privacy. As you’re wringing out your shirt, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder at Eddie, and catch the way his shoulder blades move while he does the same. His eyes catch yours and you smile sheepishly before turning back around. You’re both down to your underwear, unsure of how to proceed. 

“We should shower. Alone I mean. You can go to the boys’. There’s towels.” You speed walk away, too self conscious to hang around too long. 

“Wait!” He follows you quickly, careful not to slip. “You’re just gonna drop the fact that the locker rooms are haunted and then leave me alone to fend for myself?”

Your footsteps slow, and you let out a small huff because you know you know you’ll feel guilty until the end of time if you do that to him. 

“There’s going to be rules, Munson.”

“Oh, of course.” He agrees quietly.

“We go in at the same time and undress fully in our own shower. You’re not to come out until I have, and even then, you’re not to look anywhere but your own shower. When I say it’s okay, you can leave, got it?”

“I think you forgot the part about the towels.”

“Do not make me regret this.” 

You’ve never been so self conscious showering until now. Even with a zero percent chance of Eddie seeing you naked, you worry, but you also think about the fact that he’s in the same exact state you’re in right now. That somehow makes the whole thing feel way too intimate, and you can’t believe the first time you got to hang out with your -possible- crush, you both end up naked. If that basic, no detailed rumor got out, you’d surely die of embarrassment. Turning around, you place your face underneath the stream of water, trying so hard to not think about the small glimpse of his torso that you got. The dark patch of hair sneaking underneath his boxers that clung to his thighs from the water. 

“So, are you from Hawkins?” His voice brings you out of your wandering thoughts. You quickly turn the knob from hot to cold in hopes that it keeps you calm.

“My parents are.” Looking down, you watch the water swirl around at your feet. “My grandmother got sick and my uncle couldn’t take care of her by himself. So, we packed up and moved back here, but I can tell my parents are happy to be back home. It’s less demanding than the city.”

“The uncle being coach thing makes a lot more sense now.”

“Not a lot of people know actually.” You turn the water off completely, and wrap your arms around your torso self consciously. “I’m getting out now.”

It isn’t the easiest topic of conversation, but when she had first gotten sick two years ago, your mother went to stay with her for the three months she had been told she would live. When it was clear she was going to hang on longer than expected, they decided it would just be better to move permanently and the old lady was still sticking around. Despite being so sick, you liked hanging out with her most afternoons. Even if she forgot who you were.

You carefully walk out of the shower, towel wrapped around yourself tightly, and as you pass by the stall that Eddie is in, you catch a glimpse in the crack between the curtain and wall. All you manage to catch is the back of his head, arms extended upward to wash out whatever shampoo you’d let him borrow. He begins to turn and you look away with your cheeks burning. You attempt to dry your hair underneath one of the hand dryers, and it isn't long when Eddie comes out, damp boxers back on and using the towel you gave him to rub his hair dry. He pauses seeing you kneeled down, holding the towel to your chest so that nothing gets exposed and he realizes he forgot to wait for your okay, but you don’t seem to mind as you give a soft smile. 

“I’ll grab our clothes.” He says when the dryer finally turns off and leaves you to get somewhat decent. 

He’s suddenly so quiet as he hands over your clothes, no witty comment or joke as the two of you get dressed. All there is between you are stolen glances and nervous smiles. Once fully clothed again, you walk beside him, feeling a little stiff. Not from how your cold clothes stick to you, but from nerves. The soft lights from the pool make his face glow, and your stomach drops in the best way possible. He gets the door for you, and waits with his hands stuffed in his jacket as you lock up. The grass crunches underneath your footsteps, dry from the temperature and lack of rain. Neither of you speak, until you hit the parking lot, cars too far from each other to continue walking together.

“Were they right?” You ask before he gets a chance to escape, arms anxiously crossed over your chest. “My friends. ‘Cause if they were… I think I have one too.”

“Have what?”

Shit. You were too vague.

“A crush, dummy.” 

Realization dawns on his face as he absorbs your confession. He can’t believe it, and the worst smallest part of him thinks you’ve done this whole thing as a joke, and someone is going to pop out with a camera to capture how big of an idiot he’s been. All that happens is you chew on your bottom lip, anxiously waiting for an answer, and he's leaving your heart out in the open for too long. 

“Yes, yeah, they were right.” He watches how you smile and takes a mental image to last forever. “I’m not really quiet about anything.” 

“I just never expected…” you shake your head and look at your feet. “You. You’ve just so suddenly become this big thing in my life.” 

Eddie barely has to take a step to be close enough to take your face in his hands and lift your head up to pull you into a searing kiss. It’s so unexpected that you laugh in surprise against his lips, but he smiles at the sound. When you’ve settled down, you move your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, eager to feel his heartbeat slow to match the rhythm of your own. He kisses you so sweetly, you really do think he’s a gentleman. A quick slip of his tongue doesn’t change your mind either.

“If you don’t stop me,” he gets out between kisses. “We’ll be here all night sweetheart.”

“I like that idea,” you tease as his lips move along your jawline, and down your neck. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you focus on every feeling.

Eddie pulls back, showing some self restraint and you almost whine at the loss of contact.

“You’re gonna get a cold if you stay out here.”

“So will you!”

“I’m going to walk you to your car, and you’re going to go home and get all snuggled in bed, okay?” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb, the ghost of a smile ever present.

“Fine.”

Eddie takes your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and walks the short distance to your car. You make no move to enter, back pressed against the driver side door, and grab him by his jacket. He braces himself with one arm, looking down at you, his other hand stroking your cheek with the back of his pointer finger. The featherlight touch makes you shiver, and you find yourself getting lost in his almost pitch black eyes. Those eyes that are so beautiful and full of lashes, that a cow would be jealous. You pull him in for another kiss, arms wrapping underneath his jacket and around his small waist. He groans into your mouth, not wanting to leave if you were going to kiss him slowly like that.

“I’m personally thanking Christina on Monday.” He gives your knuckles a quick kiss before taking a few steps backwards, not wanting to look away, and turning for his own vehicle.

Christina’s head almost explodes when he does exactly that and plants a kiss on your lips in the cafeteria, but you just act innocent when you take his outstretched hand and move to sit with him at his table. It felt good, and it felt even better when you give her the finger when she wouldn’t stop staring.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 6

WC:1288 Masterpost CW: Self-esteem issues, past abuse, past experimentation, past starvation

“Hey Kid,” Jason said after he knocked on the door. It may have been left open a crack for safety reasons, but Jason still wanted to give the kid as much privacy as they could with all this.

The kid looked up at him from the bed with wide, startled eyes.

Right.

“I’m the one with the helmet.”

“I, yeah, same outfit,” the kid mumbled but didn’t look any less wide eyed.

Jason held back a sigh “Can I come in?”

“Sure, yeah,” the kid said as he forced himself to sit up against the wall with shaky arms.

Jason took the seat that Tim had used and kept a careful distance between them, even as he leaned forward and clasped his hands. “I want you to be honest with me, Kid, because you feeling safe here is the most important thing. I’ve made some soup and I’d like you to eat it and some bread, but if you don’t feel comfortable eating something I made we can do am MRE instead. That way you can know it’s still sealed.”

“No. I mean, no to the MRE. Soup sounds…” the kid had to stop and swallow. “That sounds really good.”

“Okay, Kid,” Jason said with as gentle of a voice as he could manage right then. “It’s only going to be a small portion to start, just to give your body time to adjust, but you keep it down and are still hungry there will be more. Whenever you’re hungry there will be food, I promise, and you don’t have to do anything to earn or deserve it. You can just ask whoever is around. Hell, when you’re well enough to walk around you can get anything you want from the fridge or pantry, okay?”

The kid nodded slowly, but that wide eyed look was back. Jason was going to have to warn the others about making sure that the kid ate and knew that he had free access to the food. They should get some granola bars, chips, and bottled drinks for the kid’s room too, but only once they knew the kid wouldn’t gorge himself.

“And just to check, any allergies or restrictions? I made the soup vegan, just to be safe, but it’s got some corn starch as a thickener.”

The kid shook their head.

“Good. After you eat, if you feel up to it, it would be good for you to take a bath or shower. But if you can’t,” Jason gave a little shrug, “that’s fine too. It can be another time.”

The kid shook his head. “I want to. I mean, if I can, I want to. A shower sounds… really good.”

“Yeah, I bet it does. I’ll go get you that soup and a sports drink. I know it’s going to suck, but we’re going to want to track you staying hydrated so you’ll be drinking lots,” Jason warned to another answering nod. He closed the door most of the way behind him again as he left the bedroom.

“He was awake then?” Dick asked softly when Jason moved to fill up a bowl.

“Yeah. Hey, can you start a log? I want to track what the kid eats and drinks and when,” Jason said.

“What’s the starvation concern?” Dick asked with a little frown as he tapped on the tablet.

“Right now I’m worried about the kid not believe he can eat whenever he’s hungry, so we’ll have to keep asking. But we need to watch for gorging. Lots of small meals often right now.”

Dick nodded. “Okay. I’ll make the log and set a silent alarm for whoever’s with him every hour. Did you talk about moving safe houses?”

Jason shook his head as he place two bowls and a plate of buttered bread on a lap tray. “We’ll let him get fed and through the shower first, maybe even another nap.”

“We don’t want him to get too settled here,” Dick pointed out.

“But we also don’t want to spook him,” Jason countered.

Dick just sighed. “Fucking timing.”

Jason opened his mouth—

“And if you make a dick joke right now I will throw something at you, little wing, I am not kidding.”

Jason help his hands up in surrender for a moment before he picked up the tray and headed back to the bedroom. He knocked with his foot before he pushed the door open.

The kid had fixed the bed while Jason was out of the room. He even straightened up the mess of tools that Tim had left.

It made Jason’s stomach turn over.

“You didn’t have to clean up,” Jason said, hoping to let the kid know he didn’t have do work to stay. “Red leaves a mess wherever he goes.”

The words had the opposite effect and the kid ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Jason soothed. He’d have to mention this to the others too. “It’s nice not to accidentally step on a screw or something, just that you didn’t have to. Can I set the tray on your lap?”

The kid nodded and scrambled to straighten back up. Jason was careful not to touch him as he set the tray down and made sure it was balanced.

“So I divided the veggies up differently. Which bowl do you want?”

The kid’s eyes darted between the two bowls and then up to Jason, as if trying to find the right answer.

“I don’t mind either,” Jason added, casually as he could, and sat on the bed next to the kid. “I can get more if I want it. Hell, I probably will. Spoiler always says I’m a bottomless pit with how I eat.”

Slowly, the kid reached out to scoot the bowl more more potato chunks closer to him. He glanced up at Jason from under the messy white bangs. Jason just smiled and took the other bowl for himself. He blew on a spoonful of soup before starting to eat. A beat latter, the kid did the same.

Jason ate steadily, setting a rhythm for the kid to follow, and the kid was mimicking him. It was almost like the other didn’t even know how to eat any more. For a moment, Jason had to close his eyes and breathe. The Pit Rage wasn’t what it used to be, but there was a still an anger that could burn inside him and when it did, it burned so fiercely hot. Right then, it wanted to burn whoever did this to the kid to ashes. Jason didn’t much want to stop it, but he wouldn’t risk scaring the kid for vengeance.

Not when this was his new little brother.

(He wasn’t going to mess up this time, not again.)

The sound of the spoon scraping softly against the bowl next to him trailed off. Jason kept eating, focused on his own bowl, so not to call note to it. He’d like the kid to eat a little more, but he wouldn’t push it. He’d push so little with this kid, not outside of keeping him safe.

When the barely there weight settled against Jason’s side, he froze.

Slowly he turned his head as little as possible.

The kid was tipped over, head pillowed against Jason’s arm, sound asleep.

Jason reached up with his other hand and tapped his comm twice. Dick was at the door in a flash, silent despite having obviously run. The alert bled out of Dick as he took in the sight and his face split into a grin. Silently laughing, Dick raised the tablet still in his hands and started taking photos.

Jason flicked him off for the next shot.

Damn brothers.

---

AN: Another mostly soft Trauma Tuesday! But my is poor Danny messed up... at least he has his big brothers looking after him! (Even he doesn't know that part yet.)

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe here!

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 4)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: Vox is determined to win you over, no matter what. You just want your damn peace back.

Warnings: some mature themes (mention of sexual arousal)

<— Part 3 Chapter Index

Vox gripped the bathroom counter, staring at himself in the LED outlined mirror. "You've still got it," he said to himself firmly, lifting a clawed finger to point at his reflection. "Just be cool, man."

He relaxed his face into his signature grin, leaning an elbow against the counter. "Hey Y/n, how's everything? I was wondering if you wanted to go for coffee sometime?" He threw in a wink for good measure.

A second of silence passed before he shuddered violently, breaking composure. "Ugh, no, no. Focus, man. Okay," he repositioned himself, shoving his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. He cleared his throat, mustering up his best confident, devil-may-care expression. "Doll, what do you say we get out of here tonight, yeah? Just say the word and I'll get us a private room at your favorite restaurant."

His smile twitched. Shit. That wouldn’t work on you either.

This was ridiculous. He started trends on a whim, charmed the masses to hang off of his every word, and yet—here he was, rehearsing in front of a bathroom mirror like a prepubescent boy with a crush. And failing miserably too.

He shook his head to clear it, hands grasping at the sides of his monitor so tightly it displaced the pixels on his screen. "Think Vox, what did you do to make her like you the first time?"

But if he was being completely honest, it was actually you who made all of the first moves. You who captured his attention like a vice. You who reeled him in, hook, line and sinker. There was no grand courtship on his part. In fact, he couldn't even remember the exact moment he had started to fall for you. It was all so easy, natural, seamless. He didn't have to do anything except for be himself.

He pursed his lips, turning back to the mirror warily. And—whatever, fine, fuck it. Not like anyone could see him debase himself like this anyway.

Vox sighed, his smile dropping like an overused mask. The desperation and vulnerability that he hated so much creeped back into his eyes, making him tense.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm such a damn idiot and—I just..." he trailed off, before groaning, dropping his head in his hands. "Fuck, this is pathetic."

What was he doing? Wallowing in self pity like some lovesick loser? For fuck's sake, he wasn't just some spineless bottom feeder, he was Vox. CEO of Pride's largest conglomerate. People would kill to be in his position.

A shaky grin forced itself back on his face as he lifted his head. Fuck, enough of this. Nothing was going to get done if he just sat here and twiddled his thumbs all day. It was time to make a move.

With his mental armor back in place, he marched to your room like a man on a mission. He may or may not have sent a drone on your tail to find it, since everyone else in this damned hotel seemed hellbent on pretending that they had short term memory loss when he asked. It was still a prototype, unreleased to the public. A camera the size of an ant, for incognito purposes of course.

When he finally reached your door, he pasted a confident, charming smile on his face. One that he knew used to fluster you once upon a time.

"Just act natural," he chided himself quietly, taking a deep breath before knocking on your door.

There was a moment of silence, before some shuffling was heard, and then the handle was turned.

Vox froze as you opened the door, dressed in baggy sweats with your hair in a disarray. Your shirt had ridden to the side at some point, and the rumpled neckline was exposing the enticing dip of your collarbone. He felt his mouth go dry.

And suddenly it struck him how much he missed you. God, he'd missed you. Your comforting presence, your lively humor, even the small things like waking up next to you or seeing your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. And fuck, it hurt to have you just out of reach.

Your pretty mouth pulled down into a frown when you saw him, body language changing from relaxed to guarded in an instant.

Vox forced himself out of his trance, clearing his throat. This was his moment to shine. He'd practiced for this.

"Hey—" he started cheerfully, before the door was promptly shut in his face.

Vox blinked stupidly, standing in front of your room in shocked silence. Did—did you just—?

Frowning, he raised a hand to knock again. "Y/n?" He called out in confusion.

"Go away, asshole," your muffled voice came from somewhere on the other side of the door. "I don't want to talk to you."

"But—"

"I said beat it," you growled, before a glowing barrier materialized outside of your door. Fuck, if he touched that he knew he wouldn't stop bugging until tomorrow morning.

"Fine," he hissed under his breath, turning and storming away. So that was how you wanted to play it, huh? Fine, joke’s on you. He liked a challenge.

On the way back to his room though, he felt a familiar, pleasant tightness between his legs. Vox froze, slowly looking down at the noticeable tent in his pants in horror.

"Oh, come on."

****

The next few days could only be described as an intensely aggressive game of cat and mouse. He tailed your ass like a damn police dog, determined to get even a moment alone with you—but to his absolute irritation, you kept coming up with increasingly ridiculous ways to blow him off.

He invited you to take a walk with him after dinner? You suddenly developed a spontaneous stomach bug and now you were bedridden. He held a door open for you? You pushed open the other side of the double doors and maintained unimpressed eye contact with him the entire time. He couldn't even follow you with his micro-camera anymore, because you'd promptly discovered it and stabbed it to his bedroom door with a needle as a violent warning.

Nothing was going according to plan and he was growing more frustrated by the minute. What was the point of coming here if he saw you just as often as if he had stayed in his tower?

"How am I supposed to convince her to come back," his eye twitched, one night on a rant-filled phone call with Velvette. "If I can't fucking talk to her?"

Velvette looked at him like he was a dried piss stain on the wall. "Vox, do I look like I give a singular fuck about your dumpster fire of a love life?"

Ah yes, such encouraging commentary as always. Really, he didn't even know why he bothered to call if his abused ego was just going to get attacked while it was already rolling around in a fetal position.

"You're still on the call with me," he said pointedly.

Velvette rolled her eyes, scrunching her nose up at him in irritation. "Fine, since you're so pathetic, I guess I could spare some charity," she ignored his scoff, continuing without a hitch. "You need to fucking lay off, stop trying so damn hard to get her attention. It’s giving desperate and creepy."

"I'm not—"

"Yes you are," Velvette glared. "Listen. If you don't want to end up permanently dumped, you need to compromise. Stop acting on your emotions like a toddler, you can't fucking afford that right now. And neither can we," she grumbled the last part.

Vox dug his claws into the bedding he was lying on, tearing up the soft material. The thought of giving up on you physically pained him, but...this wouldn't really be giving up, right? Velvette was suggesting a temporary ceasefire, a way to make you let your guard down, which might not be such a bad idea. It was more like...a strategic redirection of his efforts. Something that would benefit him in the long run.

He needed to build up the trust you'd lost in him. Slowly, bit by bit, until you accepted his feelings again.

The gravity of the situation was daunting. Something told him that this was his last chance, that if he fucked up one more time, you really would be gone for good.

He couldn't afford to lose you like that. It would fucking break him.

A loud crash sounded in the background on the other line, jolting him out of his thoughts.

Velvette's face drew into an aggravated sneer as she turned around. "For fuck's sake. What the fuck is it no—"

The line went dark, cutting off the call.

Vox sighed, throwing his phone blindly somewhere on the bed as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

Sleep evaded him that night, but in its place he started to devise a new strategy. Velvette was right, if he kept pushing, he would only drive you away. It was time to change his approach, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was...time to put his pride on the backburner.

Because he could live without his pride, but fuck—he didn't even want to think about what an eternity without you would be like. Besides, it was only until all of this was over and you came back home. He just...had to be patient.

****

After taking a few days to regroup, Vox was now more than ready to put his plan into action.

He’d rehearsed an embarrassing amount of times in the bathroom mirror, popped a breath mint, chugged an energy drink, and slapped himself in the face for good measure. Not necessarily in that order.

Now, in the late hours of the morning, he waited patiently for everyone to filter out before making his move, quietly cornering you in the kitchen.

You were sitting in the far corner, hunched over a steaming mug just like he knew you would be. It was something you'd been doing since he first met you, always reserving twenty minutes after breakfast to enjoy a second cup. He didn't even need to look at the contents to know that there was only a single cream, but enough sugar to make an elephant go into cardiac arrest.

That precious information would forever be saved to his hard drive.

For a long moment, he just stood there like a certified creep, admiring the familiar scene with painful longing. You hadn't noticed him yet, so your expression was still the vision of perfect bliss, eyes closed with a slight uptick to the corner of your mouth. And suddenly, he wasn't in this shitty hotel anymore. The retro kitchen transformed into a sleek modern design, the white walls melting to light blue. It was one of the few lazy mornings both of you were able to spend together, and—

"What do you think you're doing?" Your irritated voice shattered his fantasy like a pane of rose-tinted glass.

"Ah, Y/n!" His grin slotted back into place like a puzzle piece. Fuck, he hadn't even said a proper sentence to you, and you were already looking at him like he was a piece of shit someone forgot to flush down a public toilet. He had to act fast or you'd walk out again. "Funny running into you like this," he chuckled, hiding his fidgeting hands behind his back. Electricity crackled between them. "Actually, I was wondering if—"

"No," you said sharply, cutting him off.

"I—What?" His grin twitched.

"Whatever it is that you're going to say, no," you snapped, turning your back to him for emphasis.

Vox went silent for a moment. Tone it down, he repeated in his head. Stick to the plan.

"Look," he started, softening his tone. "I realize that I haven't exactly been," he grimaced. "Fair to you."

You laughed bitterly. "Understatement of the decade, asshole."

"I'm sorry," he sighed, watching carefully as your shoulders tensed in surprise. "I'll stop, if that's what you want. I won't ask you out anymore or bother you with stupid, meaningless shit."

"But?" You said quietly.

"But I still want to be...friends with you," the word left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it with a smile.

He chanced a quick glance at your face, and—well you looked like you didn't really buy it, but at least you didn't look like you wanted to kill him and dispose of his body in a ditch anymore.

"Alright," you said, after a long period of skeptical silence, your eyes unreadable. "I’ll hold you to it, then."

He closed his eyes. "Please, just consider—" he froze, processing your words.

You said yes? Fuck, you said yes!

He cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah, absolutely. Totally. Makes sense."

He caught the briefest flash of amusement in your eyes, before you turned to bring your empty mug to the sink.

"So, uh," he started giddily. Fuck rein it in man, slow down. "What are you doing later?"

“I’m busy today,” you shut him down immediately, making him deflate at your sharp tone. Then you paused for a second, seeming to contemplate something. “Well actually,” you said lightly, making him perk up again. “There is something you can join me for, but it’s a little…out of your depth.”

“Oh really? Try me,” he smirked confidently. As if anything would stop him from finally spending time with you today.

A vindictive spark suddenly flared in your eyes, making him hesitate. "Group therapy and trust exercises," you said smugly, and a jumble of odd noises quickly glitched from his head, his screen flashing briefly to show a giant, red exclamation point. "But since you're too busy with that billion dollar company and all, I thought you wouldn't be interested," you smiled sweetly.

Oh. You conniving little shit. You had him cornered.

Looks like he wasn’t the only one doing his homework.

“How f-f-fun,” he forced out, the words literally tasting like ash on his tongue.

“It is,” you nodded genuinely, making him double take. “I actually quite enjoy it.”

Vox pressed his lips together into a fine line, dread steadily welling in his chest as he realized that yes, you were actually serious. Sweet fuck.

For a second, Vox contemplated making a strategic retreat and calling it a day. He eyed the door behind him longingly.

But no, he couldn’t afford to back down from your little game just yet. If this was how you wanted to raise the stakes, fine. Bring it on.

Before he could lose his nerve, Vox mustered up a pained smile. "Actually," he said, making you raise a brow. "I'd like to give it a shot."

"Really?" You said incredulously.

"Yeah?" His grin twitched. "Why not?"

****

<— Part 3 Chapter Index

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah @yellowsubiesdance @dirk-strides @justaspectatorforfandomarts @harmoira @sunnyslug @gum-iie @lady-valtieri @mit-suri @whatelsecouldgowrong @sillysimplysilky @eternalera @aoiyx @hazellight11 @hopefully-not @tsuvvy @imcryinginemo @dinorawrss @rekoloid @ayesha-eroticax3 @sle3pyh3ad2 @l0verboyxoxo1111 @lucasisstupid @lu-ferri12 @fandom-queen37 @ilunapb @skyeliteratures @shannoncosplay @da-disappointment @memospacexx @crazyforbarnes

[imyourbratzdoll]

Saw your angst post. So hears my idea and you can decline if you want to.

Bucky and reader been getting into a major arguments about how he’s been gone/ going on to many missions and reader ends up thinking he’s cheating on them. Anyways one day he comes home from one really bad mission and they fight and reader confesses and Bucky being angry in the moment says something that heist the reader’s feelings.

You can decide if you want it to stay an angst ending or have fluff one :)

hello, sorry this took so long. I hope you enjoy it, gonna be honest, it made me tear up haha.

summary - bucky shouldn't have gone on that mission.

warning - swearing, angst and maybe some heartbreak.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

Y/n frowns, her eyes cast down as she stares at an old photo, focusing on the person smiling back at her, wondering where it all went wrong. One day she and Bucky were happy and in love, and now.

There’s been a cloud above their heads, and smiles turned to frowns, loving words turned nasty and hurtful. Y/n wonders if Bucky really is out on missions, wonders if he’s found someone better instead.

A sniffle fills the room, and she thinks it may be time to confront him. Y/n hears the door open, making her quickly stand up and run her hands down her face as she wipes her tears away. She straightens out her clothing, trying to make herself presentable, gently placing the photo back down before walking out of the room.

The moment she exits the room, her eyes connect with his tired blue ones before slowly taking in the dark bruises covering his gorgeous face and noticing the slight limp he has when he steps forward to place his things down. Bucky grunts, eyes moving away from Y/n’s as he heads toward the kitchen to grab a drink. Y/n nibbles on her bottom lip before making her way to the kitchen, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to find her words.

Bucky slams his fist down on the counter before swiftly turning and glaring at Y/n, “What? What could you possibly want right now?!” He runs a hand down his frustrated face, feeling the anger from his mission bleed into his relationship. 

“I–I” Y/n’s brows furrow, trying to find the words she’s looking for. She begins to fumble with her fingers as his glare cuts through her. 

“You what?! Can’t you see that I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now?! I don’t see you going out and saving people!” Bucky takes a deep breath in, feeling his anger roll through him like waves, his fists clench by his side. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?! Be more like….” He pauses before turning back to his drink.

“Be more like?! Who? Who the fuck should I be more like?!… So it’s true.” Y/n shakes her head, turning and storming off to the bedroom. Stopping short as a hand wraps around her wrist, pulling her back.

“What’s true?!” Bucky’s brows furrow more, lips curling into a snarl as he glares down at the love of his life, not understanding the heartbreak she’s going through and probably never will.

“That most of your missions aren’t missions! That really you are off with someone far better, and you just proved it!” Tears begin to well up in Y/n’s eyes as she tries to pull herself free from Bucky, wanting to get far away and not hear him confess. 

Bucky tightens his grip, pulling her tightly against him. “Are you fucking serious right now?! So while I’m off risking my fucking life and you do fuck all with yours, you think I’m fucking someone else?!” Bucky’s anger builds faster, not noticing the look on Y/n’s face as he breaks into a laugh. “You know what, so what if I was! I come home, and we fight. You don’t show me any fucking attention anymore.” He leans down, face lining up with Y/n’s as he stares deep into her eyes with a sneer. “So what if I was fucking someone better.”

A gasp falls from Y/n’s lips, tears freely falling now as she manages to pull free from the man she thought she once knew. “Y–you don’t mean that….” She begins to shake her head, not wanting to believe it to be true, wishing that this was all a horrible dream and that she’ll wake at any minute with a sweeter, softer Bucky comforting her. Not this monster that stands in front of her.

Bucky chuckles, turning his back on her as he gulps the rest of his beer. He shrugs, ignoring the pounding in his head as his other side, the loving side of Bucky, pounds against his mind, begging him to shut up, begging him to grab hold of her and not let her go, screaming that he only loves Y/n and he hasn’t even looked at another woman. The Bucky on the outside winces at the voices and pounding in his head whilst walking over to the couch and sitting down. He watches as Y/n leaves. Her bags are packed as she looks sadly at his emotionless face. He grunts again as the man inside him screams, heartbroken and begging to stop her. 

Maybe Bucky shouldn’t have gone on that mission.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

part 2

[pettydollie]

brat tamer matt x yn ?

hi!! to the other anon who req headcanons for brat!tamer matt, those'll come out later !

matt's little brat ♡

summary: matt giving the reader silent treatment to teach her a lesson bc shes being bratty :C warnings/notes: cursing, matt is kinda giving sugar bf vibes, silent treatment from matt, reader is a brat obv she may even get on UR nerves a little, NOT PROOFREAD!! wc: 1k

lets say you're out at the pool. matt's been ready to go, but he's let you have your fun. but he's tired and you guys have been out for hours!

you work hard too! he acts so big and tough as if he does all the work around here. yeah sure, he goes to work all day. but.. you uh.. you do...

you know what, let's just move on :)

when he's finally had enough of your excuses to stay, he snaps. "i said, let's go." his stern voice and impatient face makes you want to stomp your foot on the ground like a child. but you don't, you simply keep the annoyed look on your face. you fold your arms before snatching your stuff and walking to his car. he follows you, a small grin on his face.

you hate being pushed around, liked having freedom. matt always waited for you to say the 'lets go'. but not today. you begin to rant in the car when he's driving home. "i don't understand why i had to go! you could've left and i coulda caught a cab back. or i could've called nate."

the last part of your irritated ramble got to matt a bit. he frowned. nate, his best friend, always had a little bit of a thing for you, though he never gave him any trouble for it. nate's a good guy and he'd never step where he knows he's not welcome. but if you said the magic words, he'd totally try to get with you.

you're usually a good girl, however. you're aware of nate's feelings for you which is why you brought his name up to push your boyfriend's buttons.

this is when he starts to give you the silent treatment. not to punish you, though. he's just waiting for you to cool off. you continue to bitch and whine about how he was barely even interacting with you at the pool. he was on the lounge chair for most of the time and you were in the water by yourself like a loser. little do you know, he was busy on his phone looking at tiffany tennis bracelets to buy you for your one year anniversary

once you arrive at his apartment, you don't wait for him to come around to your side of the car to open the door for you. no, you grab your belongings and swing the door open aggressively. a small agitated pout has formed on your face and you rush into the lobby, leaving him behind (not really because he quickly follows you)

he can't really hold in his smirk anymore. he thinks its adorable when you get like this. all cranky and annoyed. his little brat ♡

you see this and it just makes you even more upset. but what really does it for you is when you two step into the elevator and he doesn't touch you at all. it's just you two and he's not giving you a sloppy kiss to get you all flustered. he doesn't even wrap his arm around your waist.

you practically sprint out of the elevator when you reach his floor. you get to the door and realize you left the key at your house, so you have to wait for him. you turn towards him with your arms crossed and suck your teeth impatiently. he doesn't make any effort to walk quicker though. he just smiles lazily, flinging the keys around on his finger.

"hurry up." you demand

he breaks eye contact, unlocking the door. you push past him to get inside first. you throw your stuff down on his leather couch and run into the en suite, locking the door when you get inside. he scoffs, his tongue swiping over his teeth in amusement.

almost two hours later, this little charade is still going on. you're only half as mad as you were before. to be honest, you were kinda tired of this act. you wanted to crawl into his lap and kiss his pretty face. but you're too petty to give in so easily

"you're so fucking mean!" you whine out, rolling your eyes when he looks up from his laptop with both eyebrows raised. he still doesn't speak, quickly removing his attention from you and back to his screen. "stop ignoring me." you spit. you're used to getting what you want from matt, so this really bothers you.

he chuckles. "mean, hm? aw, baby. you're gonna make me cry." he toys with you, pushing you further. whatever, you don't care. atleast he's talking now. you scoff, "i hope so!" though your words have no malice. he pushes his laptop off him and to the side. he pats his lap, testing to see what you'd do.

you fold your arms again and huff. you shake your head, your mouth closed shut. he sighs and mutters an "okay." he turns off his lamp and goes back on his computer. now you feel terrible. you want to beg for forgiveness and apologize for being such a punk. you're sleepy and there's no way you're gonna be able to without his comfort.

your forced angry face slowly contorts into a sad pout. your eyes get glossy and you get in bed next to him. "matt." you whisper, pulling gently on his arm. he holds in his smile, turning to look at you. you rest your head on his shoulder. "m sorry.. you're not mean at all. you're perfect."

he kisses your head sweetly. "that's okay, my love. you were just a little cranky today, huh?" he coos, and you nod your head tiredly, your vision already beginning to falter. he sees this, turns off his laptop, and puts it down on his nightstand. he pulls you to lay down so you can sleep. you rest your hand on his cheek, his stubble pricking you.

you slowly lean in to kiss his lips. his hand grabs your hip, licking your bottom lip. you pull back shyly and smile. he toothily grins. "such a bratty girl, aren't cha?" he teases, poking your side.

THIS IS KINDA SLOPPY SORRY </3 i have so much thoughts abt brat!reader x matt rn so theyre all kinda jumbled hehe

tags!! <3 @stargirlsturniololover @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee @freshsturns @emma4eva

[l0tt1emy]

hi sweetheart

May I request a Minji smut 😿 like anything you want but with a sassy rude Minji and bottom reader 😓😓

this is my first non anon request 😭🤭

Kim Minji x F!Reader

A/n: HI SWEETHEART!! Tysm for the request and It was fun making it! sorry bcstakes so long to do bcs I wrote it in full but I saw that you hadn't asked for g!p:(and I was so behind with my studies that I couldn't finish it sooner...This is fucking long AND I'M NOT GOING TO REVIEW THIS poor wonyoung..

Warnings: smut, fanservice, Possessive jealousy, swearing, fingering, cum eating, oral(r and m) sucking breast, pet names, face sitting (m receiving) scissor and idols being mentioned in the middle of sex

If you were to be completely honest, it wasn't your fault about the lack of attention towards Minji, you were one of the most famous people in your group and you needed to do your mc paper, promoting ships and rehearsing the songs

But Minji couldn't think, your relationship was private, but it never went this long without sex, not that she's needy obviously

And it seemed like every day that passed seemed like everything was against her, literally everything

when you arrived at her dorm wearing only her sweatshirt she could feel herself blushing, and taking advantage of the fact that there was no one in the dorm what she thought she grabbed you fiercely, your body seeming tiny against hers, her lips tasted you desperately, her red lips tasting everything of yours, going down to your neck and giving open kisses, not even minding your hand on her arm trying to push her away, but not making any effort

That is until she hears the dorm floor creaking with hurried footsteps, while the voices of what could be considered Hanni's and Hyein's voices resound in the dorms, coming from Haerin's dorm to Danielle's and coming straight to Minji's.

you hurriedly move away from minji, wiping the remaining saliva from your lips that belonged to minji, and move away from her when you see bulging eyes looking at you, it was hanni and she could already feel the tension "did I disturb somethi-" she asks reluctant "no" you and minji interrupt her in unison

"The director said we're going to do a collaboration with some groups for this year's mama" Hanni says, a smile on her face and her eyes shining.

If you knew what would happen, you would have refused, they again made you join the famous idol from each group, making 3 group formations, the first group having you, wonyoung, yunjin and Miyeon, the second group being, Hyein, Leeseo, Eunchae and shuhua, and the third group was Minji, gaeul, Sakura and yuqi, they always left you far from their members to put you with the most popular ones, last year you were with Karina from aespa and it was the most viral news of the week

now you are on the other side of the room, while the director tells you to stay in the center while wonyoung and yunjin kiss your cheek and you do aegyo, all the groups have different directors and you can see Minji never looking away from your director as if that magically makes her change his mind and she can perform with you

" did you understand Kim minji?" the director speaks while minji continues paying attention to her director until gaeul softly calls out to her "Kim minji?" then she blinks softly and her cheeks flush "I'm sorry, what were you saying?.." she mutters and bites her own lower lip in embarrassment "you're going to wear an outfit matching one of the girls" how ridiculous, that was the height of it, she never had talked to any of the girls before and was going to have to do this? "Are all groups going to do this?" she asks, coming out thicker than she thought "they're going to do worse" the director murmurs and looks at your group "they're going to do worse, believe me" the director says once again and looks back at the girls in front of him, without noticing how Minji frowns and one of her eyebrows is raised, great thinks Minji

Minji could feel herself blushing when she saw your performance outfit, she felt like a dirty girl for being horny in a particularly normal outfit, she doesn't know if it was because her lips looked so tempting and she could only imagine what they would look in her strap as your eyes sparkled and you choked on its length, she swallowed and looked away from you, her lips forming a straight line as she waited for the makeup artists to finish putting on her makeup and tying her skirt, everything seemed perfect until she heard a two producers talking about you and yunjin "they would make a perfect ship" "I think she suits wonyoung better" and then she realized that you were going to get involved in yet another dating rumor with another bitch, not her.

The way to Mama was more tense than you thought, you always tried to talk to Minji, like saying her hair was cool, but she purposely pretended not to hear you and went straight to Haerin's side, holding her hand and whispering things in her ear. You can feel yourself tensing up and you narrowed your eyes, moving closer to hanni and grabbing the upper part of her arm "Do you know what happened to minji?" you whisper in her ear, as you continue walking towards the stage, hanni jumps a little and her eyes widen "you scared me..." she sighs and looks ahead "no...is she normal?" She raises an eyebrow "ok" you murmur as you drag your hand out of her arm's reach and resume walking following the members of your group

the performance was even more tense, minji didn't take her eyes off you and didn't even hide it, it was shameful, while you hugged wonyoung and she kissed your cheek the audience went crazy and from the side you could see minji burning your side straight from the head , almost as if he wanted to read your mind, when the presentation ended, You were on your way to the van and stopped at a place for people to take photos, something traditional, your place was on the left next to Minji but surprisingly now danielle stole her place..

When you arrived at the big van, you were going to sit in the front so as not to disturb Minji, but she nervously pulled your wrist and made you sit on her lap at the back of the van, the other members were too tired to see this, you could feel yourself blushing as you Minji's nails dug into your inner thigh and her warm breath blew on your neck

"W-what are you doing minji?" you mumble softly, as you try to adjust yourself but every time you move, Minji's nails dig deeper into your thigh "nothing" she says bluntly, while looking at the window

You remain silent, not knowing what else to say "Did you have fun with wonyoung?" she says, the question hanging in the air, while Hyein's snoring and low music coming from danielle's headphones is heard" i said" She keeps talking "Did you have fun with wonyoung?" the question now comes out more like a growl

you bite your lower lip, hesitant to speak, you know that anything and she would get more stressed "I don't know" you say hesitantly, a laugh sounds softly, making your body shake slightly "You little bitch.." she says, your hand coming down your skirt, you blush and instantly close your legs "h-hey...minji" "shut the fuck up" she says rudely "if you wake the girls up, it won't be good right?" she says ironically in your ear

she opens your legs without your will, you can feel her mischievous smile without even seeing it, she puts her hand inside your panties, feeling your wetness "you're wet" she says moaning "how come you didn't want that?" She says, running her hand all over your folds, rubbing your wetness until you reach your clit, she rubs it, you can feel it throb with sensitivity, Minji circles it firmly in her fingers

" Don't make any noise okay" she says softly and inserts two fingers at once, easily entering your hot walls, you feel something hard in your ass and you already know that Minji is hard

your legs shake slightly, as minji moves in and out quickly, your body quickly becoming aroused and wetter, minji towers over you and kisses your neck, leaving wet kisses on the corner of your neck "you're so tight, i always fuck you and You always look like a virgin" she says bluntly, the comment bringing a strange feeling in your belly of excitement.

with every second that passed you felt that sensation coming, and minji could feel you squeezing her fingers, her other free hand went down to your clit and squeezed it and then rubbed it "come for me" she says, her voice hoarse, with more After a few thrusts you cum, you let out a slight scream, which makes Haerin move in front of the van, your legs shake uncontrollably, while you let out small whimpers while Minji continued rubbing your clit, after a while she pulled away, removing her fingers from you. inside your pussy, and before you can process it she shoves them inside her mouth, closing her eyes and savoring it like it's a delicious food, you blush and hit her arm "idiot" you mutter as you adjust yourself on her lap, Minji gives a mischievous smile and moves away, putting your panties in place, making you feel dirty with cum, making you uncomfortable, and she knew it.

The van didn't take long to arrive, when it arrived at the dorm, Minji was the last to get up, as you arrived at the elevator, it was silent, Minji had her hand on your waist firmly while Danielle was almost asleep standing, haerin looking at the ceiling and hyein and hanni talking about watching a movie today

" I was so scared, the van was making noises and moving strangely" Hanni in the middle of the conversation "Did you notice that too?" Hyein says with wide eyes "I think it was from Danielle's headphones, she just sleeps like that" Minji enters in the conversation, justifying, the two girls seem to think and nod their heads in agreement

when the elevator arrives the girls get out first, minji forcing you to wait for the girls to get out

She wraps her fingers around your wrist and pulls you towards her room at the end of the hall, it seems like something has finally worked out in your life

She throws you into the room, closing the door quickly and pinning you to the wall, moving her hands not so subtly to your breasts, squeezing them like balls, feeling everything you want in her hands "M-minji, not here" you try to say but her lips get in your way, your tongues meeting aggressively

"Shut up" she says her fingers going down to the hem of her blouse, playing with her until pulling her up, throwing her anywhere in the room and grabbing her waist while pressing her hips with yours, making your head to spin

her hands go up and she goes to the clasp of her bra, her fingers fumbling with the clasp until it releases with a click, falling to the floor and her breasts are exposed to minji, her eyes shining

She quickly puts her right breast in her mouth, the sensation making it harden, Minji runs her tongue in circles over it while she raises her hand to the left and holds it between her fingers, rubbing it, then let go of the right breast and move on to the other, sucking them eagerly, you put your fingers on the back of her neck and pull her impossibly closer, minji moaning and immediately stopping "I bet you're very wet" minji says her lips letting go your breast with a pop and going straight to your mouth

minji's hands go down to your shorts, fumbling with the buttons because she's kissing you, on a shelf your shorts are on the floor

"let me see this princess" minji murmurs, squatting in front of you and seeing your transparent panties in excitement, she licks her lips and gives a smile, without even bothering to look into your eyes, she had a priority

She kisses your clit through your panties, making you shudder, she slides the panties aside and immediately sinks into your wet folds.

She licks your clit and lowers it to your entrance, her hands holding your thighs that were shaking, She circles your entrance with her tongue and sinks in, you instantly moaning loudly, she looks at you "if you moan loudly I'll stop, hyein can't hear that" she growls and sinks in again the sensation of nothingness making you shudder

She takes one hand off your thigh and circles two fingers at your entrance, immediately sinkings "I can't wait to fuck you" she murmurs, her fingers opening forming scissors inside you as you hold on to her shoulders for dear life, your legs going wobbly and almost falling to the ground, the combination of Minji's tongue and her nose hitting your clit and your fingers in your pussy, hitting that spongy spot made you scream, she was hungry, and she sucked your pussy like she was starving, she was desperate for this sensation

You could feel yourself getting close to the edge with every second that passed and when minji moved her fingers inside you and doubled them that was when a sudden explosion happened, your whole body shook with pleasure and you put your hand over your mouth to try and push the fingers away. inevitable moans to come out

when the pleasure was diminishing minji got up, taking off her clothes and revealing that she was wetter than she thought, she was soaked, when she took off her own panties she pulled you to the bed, opening your leg and getting on top of you, for a second staring at you until she sits up, the feeling of your clit against hers making you and her roll your eyes at the same time

you are sensitive from the past orgasm, and the sensation of your entrance rubbing against minji's made you squirm, minji's juices were making you more wet, your pussy and minji's were in sync, your clit hitting her entrance and then rubbing her pulsating clit

“Tell me no one makes you come like me, not even wonyoung” minji growls, demanding as she puts her hand on the back of your neck and pulls your hair, forcing your head back"f-fuck minji.. n-nobady" you babble, too focused on pleasure to know how to pronounce a word, minji bites her bottom lip, her mouth opening in a silent moan as she desperately rubs against you, their pussies making a wet noise that echoes throughout the room. "Ahn..ah... I'm going to cum" minji moans, bringing her face closer to your neck and sucking, leaving a mark" please...i-i...fuckk" minji moans loudly rolling her eyes and gripping the sheet, when she cums her legs tremble against you, but you are getting close to your own climax so you continue rubbing against minji's swollen clit, seeking your own pleasure

minji was getting overstimulated because of the pleasure and tried to push you away but you didn't care, your clits collided 3 times in a row then your turn finally came, you fought not to scream, your head spinning with pleasure

after you and minji cum you look at each other for a few seconds until minji separates from you, a string of cum connecting your pussy to hers, her pussy was swollen and red "clean me" minji says bluntly, She doesn't even give you time to respond, her head fogged from the old pleasure, she just goes in front of you and opens her legs in your face, you just accept it, eyes closed and just open your mouth, leaving your tongue for Minji to use

minji immediately sits on your tongue, rubbing her clitoris on your tongue, the taste of her left you addicted, the taste of your juices mixed with hers made you drunk, despite being tired you closed your lips on her clit, sucking and shaking her language in it

minji seemed closer and closer to the edge, then with a thrust she pulls your hair closer to her, suffocating you in her pussy, you do as you are told, minji seems to be very focused on the pleasure and with a thrust she cums, closing her legs on her head, her ears ringing from how tightly she closed her legs

After a few minutes she gets off of you, laying down on your side, panting and pulling you "Sorry" she murmurs "f-for what?" you say breathlessly "I wanted to fuck you in the middle of the people in your group..but I couldn't" she says normally and closes her eyes, her body relaxing "uh..why?" you say

no response.

You groan in pain and look up, seeing Minji already sleeping "good night" you kiss her forehead and close your eyes

[solselah]

GODDESS MESSAGE

𓋹

PILE 1 :

𖤓HATHOR𖤓

Omg so immediately she wants to work with you as far as transformation is concerned!!! She can empathize and understand your emotional pain and physical Boundaries !! She sees that in love you have been so fucked over. Especially with the cheating and not being honest & non comital in totality she really wants to help usher in a new person , a new energy for you ! Even if they start as one of your closest friends ! She wants you to be Content and balanced !! She’s also letting you know , that person who fumbled you is definitely getting their just do with karma! And it manifest in a very specific way for this person , I’ll tell you now she is the reason why ! She’s teaching a very strong karmic lesson to this person & my love, to you as well! The twin flame card is here but I’m not feeling that energy at all , I’m more so feeling that this illusion has crumbled to pieces !! You wouldn’t even “care” if they were considered your twin flame honestly the hurt to you Goes way beyond a “dynamic” your over it ! And she can so sense it ! It’s up to you to be truthful and open to her if you are or plan on working with her energy ! Just know it’s a journey & also not everything is rainbow and unicorns with her ! She’s going to reveal to you some real sh*t !

𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹

PILE 2:

𓋹 🐈‍⬛ BASTET 🐈‍⬛ 𓋹

Bastet would like to tell you that there is some spiritual conversations going on in the spiritual realm about you !! She is showing up to help you out with your life’s purpose , giving you the push and encouragement you need to actually put yourself out there !! She intends for you to come into union with your passion! The issue here is that you are totally not willing to fully receive ! She is very strict about this message but in order to walk with her on this journey she would like to take with you , you would have to open up just a bit more ! Like you do your part she will do hers !! She also has some secrets she would love to disclose to you !! I’m talking she can be your spiritual ears when you aren’t around ! She has your back !! You just have to be actually willing !!

𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹

PILE 3:

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ NUT ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

okay so this beautiful goddess sends you intense messages not sure if you have put a name to who is sending these messages but I hope this helps !!

You dream and almost instantly forget once you wake up , she is in charge of taking up that empty space !! I think she is proving to you that parts of you are very closed off like even to the point where it has gotten spiritually silent for you ! That is intentional and will not LAST ! But she moves in complete silence when it comes down to it. She wants you to know YOU ARE SO PROTECTED! Don’t you even dare try to question that ! Like to the point you question her she might let a small mishap happen just so you see her energy LIVE IN ACTION !! She is Very big on lessons with you!! She can see future YOU , and honestly you are going places my friend ! So idk if you would officially decide to work with her but I do know she is there & around ! It’s like she is your encourager someone on the “sideline” for you spiritually!

𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹

PILE 4:

𓍝 MAAT 𓍝

“Give me the energy “

You could be so “bleh” right now like things just don’t seem worth being excited over, for you! She wants to bring you to a grounded space ! It’s obvious you aren’t the same person that you were like last year emotionally ! And she can see you doing better if you were to focus on your emotionally health ! Like she even encourages therapy or a tool that you can utilize to express exactly how you feel ! She also would love to just hear from you ; she can be that for you ! That support.

Although she will tell the truth EVERY TIME! And it may sting real bad , it’s imperative so that you can get up out of this state. It feels good to you right now but she can sense other things that you may not be able to at the moment. So she’s here to ground you , help put your feet on solid ground!!! I also see incense she may want you to burn some for her !! Also I’m getting heavy Aquarius energy along with Uranus energy !! She is highlighting a spiritual cleanse you may need to do !!

𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹

Hope you enjoy ❤️

IG:@soleccentric

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | todoroki s.

Todoroki’s route of soulmate trope.

Wow, you sure seem to be injuring yourself more than usual. That can't be related to anything significant.

warnings: extremely mild self-harm. secondhand embarrassment.

~11k words. Female reader.

When you’d first woken up in Recovery Girl’s office after inhaling the pink dust, you’d had a massive headache. You’d not recalled hitting your head in the first place, and though Recovery Girl had been able to heal all of your other wounds from the attack, the headache had remained.

 It still ached.

 Now it didn’t feel as intense as a migraine, and instead it had settled and cosied into a topical, surface-level sort of pain, and though it certainly hurt less, it didn’t mean you could ignore it.

 Constant, unignorable pain throbbed throughout your head, practically in miniscule, irksome waves (world’s worst beach). If you really concentrated on something, then you could numb yourself to the pain and almost zone out of it.

 You spoke to Recovery Girl about living with chronic pain, since she couldn’t heal you, and after spending time in office hours with her, you deduced that the pain most likely had to do with your soulmate. Somehow. Maybe when you first meet your soulmate, he’ll punch you in the face?

 But then, randomly, while you were baking in the dorm, your calf felt like it was burning, fucking boiling, and you plopped to the kitchen floor, rolling up your jeans to expose the area—to reveal completely unaltered skin with no suggestion of a blemish or wound. Yet it was scorching, and running it under water didn’t help whatsoever; the burning continued for around fifteen minutes—and you were biting your lips so hard that it bled, clutching your calf and sobbing silently on the floor in the dorm kitchen. Until it somewhat subsided—a sudden sensation of ice pressing against it.

 When it was over, the pain lingered without scar, and it had you hiding a limp as you walked to class.

 From then on, you took extra care to keep your body from physical harm. Being overly cautious in hero training (hindering your offensive moves, to be honest), staying in your dorm instead of going out, eating foods that weren’t difficult to digest, frequenting Recovery Girl to talk—which really cut into your time working with Present Mic on his radio show, but he waved it off.

 The odd nick and cut still showed up, mostly on your hands. Shinsou asked if you’d adopted a cat, and you wished. Instead, you’ve got a soulmate who may be trying to kill you.

 ***

 Aizawa was leading you up the bleachers to the commentators’ box when it struck you that you were an idiot.

 “I’m an idiot,” you said, smacking a hand to your forehead and stopping with one foot halfway up the next stair.

 Brow furrowed, Aizawa looked over his shoulder, opened his mouth, closed it, and kept digging in his pockets for the box keys. “So long as you’re not an idiot on mic, I think you’ll be fine,” he said, once he’d jammed the key into the lock.

 “No, Aizawa-sensei, I’m a big idiot,” you said, walking through the box door he held open and ran a hand through your hair, “I think I’ve just realised something about my soulmate bond.”

 Aizawa got to work flipping on lights and the sound system. “Do you need to go to Recovery Girl or sit out this practise?”

 “Ah, hm.” You bit the inside of your cheek and unfolded the chair, setting it in front of the primary microphone. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got to work through a few things, but, uh. I can still commentate.”

 “All right,” he said, nodding, “Yamada-sensei wants you to make your fight narrative more focused—more description of what’s actually happening rather than speculation, even though he should be working on that himself.” Aizawa tossed the keys on the desk next to the stadium light system controls, and he headed for the door. “Try not to swear on mic this time.”

 “Wait, Aizawa-sensei? Who’s working camera today?”

 His hand paused on the door handle. “Should be Monoma and Ashido.”

 “Cool. Thanks,” you said, shooting him a thumbs-up as he left. Monoma and Mina working camera—that means you’ll get lots of close-ups looking for faults from Monoma and wide-angle, big-picture shots from Mina—though she should give up on the Dutch angles. Fine. That’s a fine balance.

 After checking the lights and sound system, you turned the knob for the primary microphone (volume way down from where Yamada-sensei liked it). “Greetings and salutations, sports fans—” You liked to start off your commentary with a little joke, since it was just 3-A and 3-B listening, and not even all of them at that—supplementary training didn’t scratch everyone’s backs. “—once again coming to you from a cramped, commentary box, we are live in our commentary of our first team battles of the semester. Right now, if we focus on the playing field in front of us, you’ll see nothing, as everyone is still getting costumes on and not even outside yet. But we wait in salivary anticipation as our fellow students enter the stadium to discover what teams they’ll be playing on. Until then, please enjoy these sounds of ambient nature.”

 You turned off the microphone and sat back in your folding chair. Announcing for an empty stadium—besides Aizawa, you supposed, as he trudged back down to the field—was when you got your warm-up, testing out what sort of adjectives you’re feeling today. As Yamada-sensei advised, your goal was always to make Aizawa cringe. Frankly, you thought you got there with the usage of salivary, but—

 You’re an idiot.

 Use this time to think about your soulmate, dipshit.

 Connecting the dots took playing an otome game under your desk in the previous class. In it, the heroine was patching up the route’s love interest after a gunfight, and amidst the florid (but fluttery), cheesy (but so cute!) prose about feelings and his rippling pectorals, there had been a line about how the heroine loved him so much that it was as if she could feel the gunshot through her own tit.

 Well, she didn’t say tit, but—the point—

 Feeling his physical pain. Sharing it.

 It made a hell of a lot more sense than whoever-he-was punching you in the face when you first met. It would explain the frequent injuries—why they kept coming over and over—along with why the pain kept coming, since hero course idiots like yourself hurt yourselves almost constantly. For a moment, you considered punching your soulmate when you met him, as a joke, but then—you’d feel it, too, most likely. Really, you’d like to find some industrial strength painkillers for the both of you. This ache pulsing in your head—his head—needed to be alleviated.

 So, now, the plan: hurt yourself in very specific ways so that your soulmate has the same injuries. And, judging by how you’ve got a perfect view of all your classmates, complete with camera zoom, you’re in a good spot for it.

 You flipped the microphone knob again. “As the first of our classmates who have perfected the art of getting in costume walk onto the field, allow me to remind you that I am filling in for our glorious and verbose sensei, Presentation Michael, for totally unbiased commentary on today’s matches.”

 Grinning, you stuck your tongue out at Bakugou, even though he couldn’t see you. He’d shot the commentary box a disgusted look and had shaken his head, hanging off to the side of the field with Kirishima and Sero.

 When teams were announced, you decided you’d hurt yourself then when their attention was definitely on something else, and therefore, they’d react genuinely to the pain. Sweet. Solid plan.

 Wait, how are you going to hurt yourself? It can’t be too bad, because 1) that’d be mean, and 2) you also have to concentrate enough to see how everyone reacts. Eh, you’ll wing it.

 “Now that all of those participating in the team battles are prepared and on the field waiting for assignments,” you said, pulling the mic towards you and zooming in on the bottom of your system screen, “we all wait for our brilliant, talented, eclectic, beautiful sensei to get off his phone to announce the teams.”

 Stowing away his phone, Aizawa addressed the group, and you sat on the edge of your seat, your hand raised (for what?). “Team one,” said Aizawa, “is Asui—”

 Okay, she’s got a soulmate—

 “—and Bakugou.”

 You slapped yourself across the face, hard.

 Whimpering, you clutched the spot while hunching over in your stupid folding chair, missing Aizawa’s explanation of why they were paired together, and goddamn it, you missed Bakugou’s reaction. Footage, footage, yeah; there’s footage. You’re filming for Yamada-sensei. You’ll review it later—no! You want to know now!

 “Team two,” said Aizawa.

 You snapped back upright, blearily making yourself focus on the what’s going on down there and giving your cheekbone a final, indignant swipe. You raised your hand again, the opposite one this time.

 “Team two is Ojiro—”

 Safe. He’s matched.

 “—and Shinsou.”  

 You hit your other cheek, this time bracing yourself and clenching your teeth. Cursing yourself immediately afterwards—because if you don’t feel the pain, nor will he. Fuck.

 “Team three is—”

 Oh, God.

 “—Hagakure and Yaoyorozu.”

 Breathe in. Breathe out. You can do this.

 Amendment: you can do this well and correctly.

 Two more teams until you facepalmed so hard that you had a red splot on your forehead. Another two until you thought you’d bitten the tip of your tongue off (idiot!). Then four unmatched people all in a row led to four slams of your funny bone right onto the edge of the desk.

 Gasping, wheezing, and cradling your arm, you bitterly shook your head as the teams took their places, either on field or in the dugout. It just wasn’t fair, but you piddled it all into your jar of petty emotions and would have to deal with it later, since you were working.

 “Our first two-on-two battle for the morning is team seven, Kendo and Komori, versus team ten, Kirishima and Shoda, making for a battle centring around close melee combat, so long as you can keep breathing—teams two and eight on deck.” You zoned out enough to commentate without zest and flair (which went against your morals, but still) but still throw your mind elsewhere.

 Ugh, well. Your soulmate didn’t react to a single fucking thing, provided he was somewhere in the crowd. Either your soulmate gets off on being beaten up, or you’re wrong about the soulmate method, or he… You frowned, but you tried not to let it creep into your voice as you commentated. If you’re not wrong and he’s not into getting hurt sexually, then…then your soulmate is so used to pain that it’s become normal to him. That physical pain is just part of his everyday life.

 You rubbed at your eye, where a good bit of the constant headache settled. This was shit, and you’d only been living with it for a few weeks. If your soulmate lived with this constantly, well, then—step one, wrap him in blanket. Step two: kiss on forehead. Step three: hot choccy for the boy.

 Oh, shit, you’re working.

 “And that’s Tokoyami coming in for the final swoop,” you found yourself saying, “Can’t get it, can’t get it? And he does, swiping the feet out from underneath Jirou there, meaning that Tokoyami is the last one standing. Team Four wins!” You sat back in your chair, flicking off the knob so that you could huff agitatedly. A fair number of matches had gone by in a blip, and you didn’t even know what you’d said. Well, Aizawa hadn’t stormed up here telling you to stop cursing, so you supposed you’d been doing an acceptable job.

 “Next up, next up! Team one versus team nine, Asui and Bakugou versus Kouda and Todoroki. Judging by the patterns on Asui’s offence, we can—”

 God, your head hurts.

 “Aaaaand there’s Bakugou, Bakugou with the advantage, Bakugou with an overarching sweep shot, using the weight of his gauntlet as a crushing weapon in addition to that blast. Oof, ouch, scorching Kouda just over on his—”

 You made your mouth run a mile a minute, making yourself focus on the match instead of your soulmate and the ache.

 “Asui comes from below with the first true ranged attack of the match, but it doesn’t look like it hit its target; Todoroki managed to slip past yet again—”

 Blinking to stave away the irritation, you gave up and rubbed at your eye. It’s like it was getting worse, like, uh, you didn’t know—like smoke was rising into it.

 “It’s a close, close match; so far it could be anyone’s game, and, and Todoroki lands a focused ice strike to Bakugou’s core. He’s doubled over, taking a moment to threaten Todoroki—psychological warfare against your opponent in addition to physical, sometimes uncouth but still a worthy tactic, especially if it—oh, he’s—Bakugou’s shot a pissbaby look towards the commentary box, but he’s winding up and going for Todo—oh, Kouda! No, no, it's a feint; Bakugou was feinting—”

 And instead of inhaling, you screamed, louder than you ever have in your life, at the same time an A.P. shot burst into Todoroki’s stomach from less than a foot away.

 Like your skin melting and reforming on a fresh skeleton, like nothing mattered between here and now and when but this burn, feeling nothing—no extremities, no celebrealities to take yourself away—nothing but this agony scorching its way through your stomach and cutting into you below your ribcage.

 As you lay crumpled on your back on the floor (when did you get there?), it far outweighed the ache on the left side of your face, and you woozily blinked through a few images that smeared together: the shitty fluorescents above you (too bright—you tried to hold a hand up to block them out, but you couldn’t lift your hand), Aizawa bursting through the box door to kneel next to you, and someone’s hands on you while you shuffled about on a thrilling variety of hard surfaces.

 ***

 You woke up with a dry mouth in Recovery Girl’s office. Been a while since you’ve been in one of the hospital beds; you’re even tucked in, and shit, and ooh, ouch, oof, don’t sit up so fast. It makes your stomach—oh my god TODOROKI.

 Where is the fucker? Where’s that handsome basta—ah. The bed next to you. Reading some shonen manga you didn’t recognise.

 You tried to be stealthy when you flipped onto your side to face him, but you couldn’t escape the involuntary grunt of pain.

 Todoroki’s eyes flicked to you, holding his book still.

 “Hi,” you said, swinging your legs around to dangle them off the side of the bed, “I think we should make out.”

 Todoroki blinked. Twice. He reached for his bookmark and started to rise from the hospital bed.

 “What? Where are you go—jokes. It was a joke,” you said, watching with horror as he stood and walked away from the patient area, “I’ve got jokes all week. I’ve got jokes forever.” Your voice died out when he filled a paper cup at the sink, and Todoroki returned steadily towards you to hand you the cup. His fingers grazed yours, and you jolted, though Todoroki, cool as you please, merely blinked sleepily.

 He gave a careful nod towards it. “Drink. You were breathing through your mouth while you slept.”

 Oh, God, did that count as pain and therefore transfer to him? Did—nope, you’re not going to worry about that. There are worse things. You brought the cup to your lips to stifle the impulse to ask him to spit in your mouth.

 After a few swallows, you—fuck, he’s too close and too good-looking to look him in the eye for this—stared into your water and said, “So. We’re soulmates. Have you told Recovery Girl yet?”

  “We’re soulmates?” asked Todoroki, sounding alarmed.

 Your head whipped towards him, and his (fucking gorgeous) eyes widened, his broad shoulders stiff. Good God, he didn’t know, and now he’s going to be fucking repulsed by you. He deserves someone cooler, more graceful, more—

 Todoroki cautiously sat near you on the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight, and your brain emptied. He was so close; you could feel his excessive warmth coming from his left side, and he’s so fucking—he. He could take that elegant hand between you on the mattress and wrap it around your shoulders right now, pulling you close with those lean, lithe muscles, and oh, God, he could make you feel so safe—

 And.

 Fuck.

 Since your first year, you’ve acknowledged in the back of your head that Todoroki was essentially the ideal man (complete with power and talent and a gentleness that aches), but since he’s liked by basically anyone with sense in the school, you’ve packed any shred of affection away, folding it into a cardboard box and shoving it into the back of your mental closet.

 It feels like the box has spontaneously combusted.

 But no, fuck, you saw that look on his face. He doesn’t want you—and that makes sense, since…y’know. You’re you. You haven’t attracted anyone—God, how embarrassing that the only way someone is going to look at you potentially romantically is from a fucking soulmate accident.

 Todoroki shifted, his expression taut. “How do you know we’re soulmates?”

 Right. He’d like to get out of it. You won’t lie to him. “By the way we’ve been sharing each other’s pain,” you said with a sigh, “Didn’t you notice we’re in Recovery Girl’s office for the same injury? Getting hit by Bakugou? And…and you must have burnt your calf a few weeks ago; that had me collapsing in the dorm kitchen and overcooking my eggs, and you’ve got this nasty, constant headache, which has got to be—” You were going to say aggravating, but you realised it yourself when you looked back at him. “—your scar.”

 His brow furrowed in thought, Todoroki tapped his fingers on his thigh, and he nodded.

 “Hang on,” you said, screwing up your face, “I was—I kept hitting myself during the team selection, trying to find you. You never reacted.”

 Todoroki turned his head towards you slowly, and under his slowly blinking gaze, you were frozen. “I didn’t think it was anything out of the ordinary.”

 You let out a weak, incredulous laugh. “You didn’t think—didn’t you feel it?”

 Todoroki ducked his head, staring at his hand on your sheets. “Since the soulmate incident, my scar hasn’t hurt as much. The skin hasn’t been as sensitive, and I don’t get headaches as often. I’ve been able to concentrate. To relax.” He pinched the fabric and let it fall. “When I’ve trained, it’s as if I could go forever, as if the blows that fall don’t mean as much.” His eyes turned up to you again, pinning you. He’s got to stop doing that so suddenly. “It must have been you taking the pain away.”

 Huh. You hadn’t considered. “So, you think we’re splitting the pain between us, not that we just both feel the pain.”

 Todoroki nodded. “Look at how Bakugou hurt us. We should be much worse off from a close-range shot,” he said, raising the hem of his shirt.

 You slapped a hand over your eyes, taken off-guard by the abrupt reveal of the lower half of his tightly muscled abdomen, but you slotted your fingers to peek through. “You’re—you’re right,” you said, feeling saliva build in your mouth. You pulled the move into rubbing one of your eyes, the one that kind of itched—it’s the one with his scar. “Does your scar always itch like this?”

 He hummed. “Less now, but still enough.”

 Your hand fell to your lap. “Are you…always in pain? Does it always hurt?”

 “You can answer that.”

 Fuck. The school’s powerful, pretty boy lived in constant pain, and he never said a word. “May I ask how you got it? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

 Todoroki was silent for a moment, and then he said, “Do you know about quirk marriages?”

 “Refresh me?”

 “Quirk marriages are arranged between those with compatible quirks to hopefully manipulate the quirks of their children. My father sought this,” said Todoroki, “and, he would argue, that he failed three times, until me. I was sick a lot, when he trained me. Mom would try to help, and he’d—” He cut himself off, pinching his lips together. “Anyway. My mom lived with the pressure until she couldn’t. She thought I was him, and she poured boiling water on me. She’s getting better now,” he said with finality, leaning back on his hands on the bed and kicking his legs out.

 Uh. Holy fuck. How do you respond to that?

 Present Mic was always emphasising the importance of word choice.

 Steeling yourself, you reached for one of his hands, taking it firmly, even though it threw him off balance for a moment. He adjusted quickly, his fingers easily guided by you to lace between yours. “Todoroki,” you said, making yourself stare him in his eyes, “Let’s kill your father.”

 His lips parted, Todoroki straightened himself hastily. He clamped his other hand over yours, and with a wide, earnest expression, he said, “We shall have a winter wedding.”

 You snorted and squeezed his hand (his hand! Which you were holding!). “Sure. Yeah, Todoro—”

 “Please call me Shouto,” he said, scooting closer to you on the bed and squeezing back, “I would like to hear your thoughts. Have you considered this before?”

 Killing Endeavour? Yeah. Who hasn’t? Ah, ha, hold up. Maybe that’s not a normal thought you should be having about one of the biggest heroes in—fuck it, he’s a rat bastard of an abusive father. Die, bitch.

 Still, it’s nice that Todoroki wanted this, too. Validating. “You wanna make an event out of it?”

 He smiled—and it’s so gentle in a charming sort of way that your first instinct is to turn away, like you’re not worthy to look at him. But hey, he’s yours to look at now.

 “Only if you want to,” he said, his soft grin only growing wider.

 “I do,” you said, and for some reason, at those words, Todoroki ducked his head, the tips of his ears very red.

  ***

 Bakugou shouted across the classroom door the moment you opened the door. “Back from the infirmary, motormouth? Can’t believe you fucking screeched over the intercom.”

 Kayama-sensei paused mid-lesson, her whip still pointing towards the board.

 “And what of it, Bakugou?” you asked, stepping forward so that Todoroki could close the door behind you. “Did I make you lose a match?”

 Bakugou gritted his teeth. “As if someone like you could make me lose a ma—”

 “I won my match,” said Todoroki, taking your hand in his large, calloused one. (You were very startled by the physical contact and stared down at your joined hands, as if you were noticing that you had fingers for the first time.)

 Bakugou scowled. “The fuck do you—”

 “Todoroki’s your soulmate?!” Mina slammed her fist on her desk. “I’m literally wet with envy!” Kirishima immediately stopped chewing on the end of his pencil and reached for her.

 Midnight couldn’t get the class to calm down for a while, but, you supposed, they needed the noise. Todoroki escorted you back to your desk (your eye twitched at the tenderness), and when he returned to sit at his own, he couldn’t stop smiling to himself.

 ***

 “So, you’re Shouto’s soulmate!” Fuyumi hugged you before you could toe off your shoes near the Todoroki threshold. “You’re just as lovely as he described. Please, come in.”

 You exchanged a curious glance with Shouto while you unfurled your scarf, and as he hung up your coat for you, he was looking at you with a nearly unbearable fondness. You had to look away, feeling the heat rush to your face. God. Nothing had even happened yet, and you were already fucking overwhelmed.

 Natsuo was out, so it was supposed to be just the three of you at dinner. It had been a while since you’d eaten in a traditional setting, since dorm living had you grazing and cooking simple meals for yourself most of the time, so you were watching Shouto closely for any way you could possibly fuck up—and he seemed to notice and started to make his movements more obvious. You wouldn’t admit it, but you couldn’t even recognise some of the gourmet dishes Fuyumi had cooked—but all of it was fucking scrumptious; you eventually found yourself unable to compliment her coherently, because it all devolved into variations of “I’m going to cry. I’m weeping. I’m. Crying. Crying forever. I’ve never wanted to marinate myself in a sauce before.” Since you worked with Present Mic, you would have been embarrassed for being so inarticulate, but Fuyumi and you had warmed up to each other easily. She made you feel at peace.

 Well, that’s good. At least there’s one safe family member for Shouto to be around.

 (You had already met his mother, albeit briefly. You had been freaking out about what kind of gift you should bring her for your first meeting, but Shouto had simply put his hand on the small of your back (!!!) and told you that you didn’t need to feel any pressure.

 “She’s going to love you,” he’d said into your ear on the train ride to the hospital.

 “But how do you know?” The cool of the tin of tea you’d gotten anyway had seeped through your mittens.

 You had heard the self-satisfaction creeping into his voice—it was light, but it was there.  “My mother tends to feel the same way I do about people.”

 Shouto hadn’t laughed when you’d stuttered your way through a feeble, flustered defence before giving up, but he hadn’t needed to. You could see it in his eyes.)

 When Fuyumi left for the kitchen near the end of the meal after making you promise to try on some rings that had belonged to their grandmother, you scooted closer to Shouto. “Your dad should be showing up soon, right?”

 He nodded, closing his eyes as he swallowed his mouthful of water. “It’s past time for his patrol to end.” He set his glass on the table with a muted clink. “Are you sure about this? If you would prefer, we can retreat to one of the back rooms, or we can go back to campus.”

 You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “It’s good to meet the enemy, yes? Plus, if he’s lured into a false sense of security around me, then it’ll be easier to get physically close to him when we fucking kill him.”

 Shouto laughed through his nose at that, and his expression softened (really incredible how soft the man can get when everything about him is so sharp: sharp features [especially that high-bridged nose and the unfairly pretty cheekbones], sharp gaze that seemed to notice everything about you, sharp and deliberate gestures and movement—his body’s all sharp angles and hard lines, and—your gaze fell to those fucking sharp collarbones barely peeking out of his button-up. Funny how your mouth can start to fucking water when you’ve just eaten Fuyumi’s cooking). Shouto propped an elbow on the table and rested his cheek on his fist, and he reached for your hand, hesitating just before touching it.

 When you nodded, he let out a heavy sigh and took it—for a moment you felt his normal body temperature before he began to heat his hand for your benefit. “He’s not going to like you,” Shouto said after a moment, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve whatever he’s going to say to you.”

 “Whatever he chooses to say will not affect me in the long run. I don’t need him to like me,” you said, proud of being able to speak while making physical contact.

 Shouto visibly swallowed (Ad—Adam’s apple…), his brow furrowed in thought.

 “What I do need,” you said, sitting up straighter, “is for him to not think of me as any sort of legitimate threat. That way he’ll let me get close enough to shave off his eyebrows in his sleep.”

 A wide smile spread across Shouto’s face, and he had to look away this time. Score.

 Fuyumi returned from the kitchen with multiple tiny plates balanced on a tray. “Ta-da! Time for the tasting. We considered putting cubes of each selection into a cute little bento for Shouto to bring to school,” she was saying as she set around ten saucer-size plates in front of the both of you, “but Shouto convinced me that transportation and refrigeration might mess up the flavours. So! Most of these came from a bakery in the Takoba district, but two of them were made by me today.”

 Fuyumi had set about ten different slices of cake on the table, each plated a bit too stylishly for you to feel like you were allowed to eat them. You didn’t know if she’d drizzled raspberry sauce over that slice and arranged wedges of strawberries next to that one, or if the bakery did.

 Uh.

 “I won’t be offended in the slightest if you like a professional cake over either of mine; that’s to be expected.” Fuyumi grinned from across the table, now that she was settling down. “But I won’t say which ones I made until you’ve tried all of them! Shouto, if you can guess, I’ll make you cold soba the next time you’re home.”

 You were trying to shoot Shouto a look that said Why the fuck are we eating so many cakes and Is this how rich people have fun, but once his sister offered that, he had a laser-focus on the cakes in front of him.

 Shouto picked up both forks and held one out to you. “We have a new mission,” he said gravely.

 I mean, whatever. Sure. Pretty boy word choice go brrr.

 Shouto noticed your noticing a probable strawberry-flavoured cake (in contrast to all of those pale bitches who probably tasted like vanilla or almond) and silently passed it to you for you to stab a bite from it, and as he set it with a quiet clink in front of you, the front door slammed hard enough to shake the shoji dividers.

 It couldn’t be a coincidence that a sharp pang shot through where Shouto’s scar would be as his father’s heavy footsteps grew closer. Scowling, you rubbed your mirroring eye, massaging away whatever of the ache you could, and that’s how Endeavor first caught you when the shoji slid open.

 He’d given a cursory nod towards Fuyumi, his gaze dragging over Shouto before latching onto you, rubbing your eye with one hand and holding up your fork with the other. The corner of his mouth involuntarily twitched as he wrinkled his nose.

 You held your ground the best you could, glaring up at him while twirling your fork idly (seemingly idly, instead of the power play showing composure that it was). Endeavor’s beard flickered to life once you tilted your head at him, as if analysing him for the first time, and you squinted, his flames almost too bright to look at without hurting your eyes.

 After a beat, you sighed heavily, stabbing your fork into the cake. “Do you have any sunblock?” you asked Shouto with your mouth full.

 Judging by the sharp increase in shadows on the dividers, the flames surged behind you, the heat washing over your back.

 Todoroki took a bite of the same strawberry cake, holding a quiet, excited look with you.

 (You’ve noticed, recently, that Shouto makes a lot of little expressions only intended for you to see, how he’s started instantly glancing towards you for a secret sort of empathy and comradery. Shouto expressed himself in the thousands of tiny looks just for you, and while you loved the trust growing in your relationship, it also saddened you that he felt the need to hide these impulses from everyone else.)

 “Fuyumi,” Endeavor began, the floorboard shifting under his weight as he approached, “Again, you’ve failed to warn me that one of your friends was coming over.”

 Fuyumi held her hands up and laughed nervously. “She’s not exactly my—”

 “She’s my soulmate,” said Shouto, pulling a plate noisily towards him and gesturing for you to try it first, “Irreversibly so.”

 This cake tasted heavily of almond, but there was something under it—maybe rum extract?

 Endeavor’s glare bored into you. “Soulmate. So you are suffering from that villain attack.” His furrowed brow tightened. “What’s her quirk?”

 Either way, that was definitely buttercream frosting, though it would be more visually appealing if it and the cake weren’t all white.

 Shouto scowled. “Don’t speak to me, as if I’m her owner, as if she’s not in the room. You should ask her yourself.”

 You hadn’t even detected that disrespectful jab; you’d been too lost in considering recent trends for monochrome, minimalist design—and how that apparently had spread to the cake world, since most of these cakes were all white. It really emphasised how delightful a shitty sort of colourful maximalism was—those cute little bitches with the berries and fruits sauces drizzled over them were next on your tasting list.

 You finished chewing your bite and ignored Endeavor’s intensity the best you could. “I’m quirkless,” you said, lying through your teeth (Fuyumi openly looked confused, since you’d demonstrated your quirk earlier, but Shouto caught on right away). You turned away from Endeavor and to Shouto. “Have you figured out which ones Fuyumi baked yet?”

 Shouto was trying his best to not laugh (another thing that disheartened you: all too often Shouto hid signs of joy. You wanted to help him feel comfortable enough for joy to burst from him without fear). “I am not yet certain,” he said, moving all of the colourful, fruity slices closer to you, “I have my suspicions, though. Have any of them felt too professional to you?”

 “Shouto,” said Endeavor through gritted teeth, the breath from his harsh consonants making his flames flicker, “What have you done. Shackling yourself to someone who’s—”

 Endeavor then used a phrase that you, frankly, just didn’t understand, because you’d never heard it before. Evidently, it must have been some archaic insult specifically for quirkless people that Fuyumi and Shouto had heard their father use before; it was abominable enough for the drinks on the table to freeze over in a splintering path of ice from Fuyumi’s clenched fist in her lap.

 Shouto’s quirk didn’t flare. He instead shifted his jaw and very deliberately took your hand, lacing your fingers together and displaying them on the table between you.

 A few painful seconds passed, and Endeavor’s flames surged again. “How you’ve wormed your way into U.A. and my son’s life is unfathoma—”

 “I like this one,” you said, tapping the plate with around half of a chocolate-raspberry-drizzle slice remaining.

 Shouto took another bite out of it and nodded.

 Crossing his arms, Endeavor started to spit out another diatribe, but he cut himself off as Shouto brushed a stray crumb from the corner of your mouth.

  ***

 Shouto, his face flushed and besotted with a constant flow of tears, rounded the corner to the dorm kitchen, and when you straightened yourself up to look at him, he had even more questions.

 You had on a protective face mask and dark sunglasses at this time of night, and you, too, were crying, despite your attempt to block out the fumes. “Sorry,” you said, brandishing your knife, “I’m chopping onions. I guess the soulmate bond perceives this as pain.”

 “It’s okay,” said Shouto, grabbing a paper towel to wipe his face with, “What are you cooking?” He held out a towel so that he could wipe your face as well.

 “Holy shit.” You whipped off your sunglasses, and you held your onion-y hands at a distance while leaning into Shouto’s touch. “It’s only the best fucking French onion soup you will have in your life. Doesn’t even matter if you don’t like onions, because this is on a different level. The onions don’t melt in your mouth; they fucking evaporate. Your mind is going to be blown.”

 Shouto halted in his blotting away of your tears and snot. “You’d let me have some of your cooking?” He tossed the (very wet) paper towel in the rubbish bin.

 Nodding, you braced yourself before cutting into another onion. “Obviously. I know you just sort of collapse after your training sessions with Midoriya, and you deserve better than microwave ramen after that.”

 Shouto took a moment, and he placed a hand on his chest. “You’re cooking for me?”

 “Yes, Shouto. Of course. That why I chose to use words implying the intention. Context clues, my dude.” You scrunched up your face. “Scratch that. Context clues, my love.”

 Swallowing, he pressed two fingers to his wrist, counting his pulse. “I think I have to sit down for a bit,” he said, “I may pass out from the sheer tenderness of it all.”

 ***

 And so the semester crawled closer and closer to the end of the semester and therefore closer to the day of the assassination attempt, which would be over winter break. But each day was somehow a delight with someone permanently in your corner and waiting for you, someone learning how you live and what you like. It was odd to be studied but an embarrassing sort of pleasure to be known.

 Shouto was careful to avoid injuring himself, now, since beforehand, he didn’t exactly care about his own physical wellness. Now that you’re connected, it’s not that he’s become cautious but that he’s more intentional.

 You gave him a travel bottle of sunscreen with moisturiser to put on his scar in the mornings, since you’d done some research on how to care for scars, which apparently were more prone to heat sensitivity (how fucking ironic), stiffness, and itching. The two of you had done some experimenting to determine if the other felt how the other cared to the pain, and it turned out that relief was only found if the one who was originally injured did something about it. A damn shame, since you’d been wondering if you two could potentially heal each other from the sidelines or at a distance.

 (This led to an awkward week in which the both of you had a sunburn flecking skin off of your noses, but only Shouto could do something about it. No matter how much aloe vera you applied on your end, it only counted on his, since he’d gotten the sunburn in the first place. Mina took many photos.)

 Hanging out in his dorm room revealed how often Sero came to borrow volumes of manga (Sero got upset the time you hadn’t finished the volume he needed yet), how often Midoriya came to discuss classes and the upcoming work studies, and how often Kouda came to lend Shouto a cat for the afternoon, among others. Shouto lay, his head on your lap while you both were sprawled across the tatami mats, completely oblivious to how popular he was. You were learning a lot about your classmates through how much they valued their friendship with Shouto, and the fact that he was so loved outside of his own household made your heart ache—and you hoped he couldn’t feel it, too. Plus, hey, you got to pet a cat, and whenever you couldn’t, Shouto would send you pictures of the cat that day.

 (Usually, this was a chocolate-point cat named Dango, who, according to Kouda, absolutely adored Shouto and praised how calming Shouto’s presence was. She often curled up on Shouto’s left side, while you huddled up to his colder shoulder. Shouto thought the competition between you and Dango for his warmer side was wildly funny.)

 In class, it was wonderful to have someone to look to for a first reaction, for a moment of empathy, or to remind you that he’s still there. On a thirstier day than usual, since Shouto had stumbled into class with ruffled bed-head and a charmingly dishevelled uniform, Shouto’s careful gaze caught you staring at him. You hastily looked at your desk, heat rising to your face, but you chanced another glance at him. The smug bastard kept his eyes on Aizawa-sensei as he wrote on the board, but Shouto couldn’t suppress his self-satisfied little grin as he unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt and surreptitiously pulled the collar down and to the side so that he could flash you his vexingly perfect collarbone. He knew your weakness, and now you had to sit in frustration for the rest of class. He had villainous qualities no one else could fathom.

 And you’d grinned to yourself before stifling it down: you knew him, too, in ways no one else knew about. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life learning more.

 ***

 He’s started referring to the day of his father’s assassination as the big day, so you’ve adopted it, too, revelling in its vagueness that let you talk about it in public. He’s been more theatrical about it than you thought, but more layers of his personality revealed himself to you the more time you spent with him.

 Today, the two of you had been staking out shrines as assassination locations, because there was something poetic about the bastard dying in a holy place. There’d been one last shrine that Shouto said couldn’t be the actual location, since it was shabby and small, but he wanted to take you to it today anyway—reasoning that it had a magnificent koi pond/river that you had to see.

 “Natsuo, after all, is into breeding carp,” said Shouto as he sat to cross his legs on the edge of the pond’s stone barrier.

 Natsuo? Into breeding? “Tell me more,” you said, “Why breeding carp?”

 Shouto gestured loosely. “That’s what I call it. It sounds more ridiculous than he’s helping out a friend with his koi dynasty. Carp sounds less elegant than koi.”

 “Misleading word choice to make people laugh is always appreciated,” you said, snapping your fingers as applause and setting your bags behind you so that you could freely lean over the pond’s surface, “What got him into it?”

 “It’s for Mom,” said Shouto, mirroring your position over the water, his shoulder bumping against yours, “Mom’s koi pond was destroyed by my father when we were in primary school, and Mom’s been too scared to start another one. Natsuo’s working with his friend to pick out high-quality koi for a pond my mom could have on her own.”

 “That’s sweet.” You poked your finger underneath the water and waited for a fish to nibble at it, but they scattered when you disturbed the water. “Horrible what your dad did, though. How do you tell a good koi from a bad one?”

 “Even now, I’m not sure.” Shouto dipped his fingers into the water as well, and he made a little icicle that the nearest fish started to inspect. “This one looks odd, though. As if he’s the fish form of an ancient wizard. The whiskers are oddly long.”

 Sure. “His name is Clog. In his spare time, he corresponds with prisoners.”

 Shouto’s face lit the fuck up. “Of course.” He lifted his hand from the pond, water dripping from his little icicle, which he used to tap another koi. “This is Klaus, whose hobby is doubles tennis.”

 God, you’d eviscerate the whole damn planet for Shouto to stay as happy as he looked. “Those two cavorting about in the far corner there—they’re a mother-son team, called, uh, Kyoya and Takoyaki. They—if you spoke to Takoyaki, Shouto, what would she say?”

 Brow furrowed, he pinched his lower lip between his thumb and index finger while he examined the fish. You were too distracted by the fullness of his mouth to concentrate on the fish—idly, you wondered what chapstick he used. You saw the moment he came up with his dumb little joke, and he faced you with a bright sort of eagerness and said in an affected voice, “If anything should happen to me, then my son, Kyoya, will take over the family business.”

 “So, all of these fish are now in the mafia. What are they trying to gain?”

 “Not all of them,” said Shouto, and he activated his quirk to extend his little icicle to stretch all the way across the pond, where he stroked a long koi down its back. “This one isn’t.”

 “Tell me about him.”

 He ran his tongue over his lower lip, glancing at you and back at the fish. He melted his pointer-icicle back to its original length before letting it dissolve between his fingers. “His name is Dick.”

 You barked out a laugh before covering your mouth. “Not even a shred of innuendo this time, looks like. Going straight for it. And?”

 “Dick likes disembowelment and working with sheet metal.”

 You clapped a hand over your eyes, groaning. “Better watch out, pretty boy, or I’ll kill you after we kill your dad.”

 “If it’s at your hands, I’ll take anything,” said Shouto, and with a soft grunt, he raised his arms above his head to stretch. Your eyes immediately honed in on the skin the hem of his parka exposed—oh. Boy has…tumby…

 You snapped out of it as Shouto checked his watch. “Looks like we’ve got fifteen minutes before we have to be at the shop.” He pulled his sleeve back over it. “Want to start walking there?”

 He’d told you that you were buying outfits for the big day (sure, bucko, very generous of you), and though you’d expected something like an army surplus store, he escorted you to a high-end, formal boutique. Really quite sexy of him, to insist that you kill his father in style. What’s the point of murder if you can’t look hot while doing it? None.

 So, that was your internal justification walking into the poshest boutique you’ve stepped foot in, feeling a bit grimy and out-of-place, but three saleswomen were waiting for you towards the front-of-house already, one handing the both of you cups of fancily decorated hot chocolate.

 Shouto turned to you before they could get a word out. “Do you have a colour in mind? I want to match you.”

 “Well, obviously not fucking white,” you said, and for some reason, one of the saleswomen’s eyebrows shot towards her carefully maintained hairline. Yikes, you forgot that people don’t like swearing in public. You’ll tone down your language. “Blood shows a bit too easily on white, so it’s like we wouldn’t have to work for it. Black—opposite problem. Wouldn’t show up much at all. Probably—” You tilted your head, considering what would piss off Endeavor. “Probably a light blue.”

 “I’ll pull a swatch of whatever shade she chooses,” said the hot chocolate saleswoman, and she took Shouto towards the back of the store while the other two took you towards the front corner.

 Thanks to Chieko’s and Hanazawa’s guidance (and quirks: Chieko’s let her instantly know what colour palettes looked best on someone [which was very niche but nevertheless insanely helpful], and Hanazawa’s quirk allowed her to tailor certain fabrics in minutes [certain fabrics being the deciding factor in how she’s working at a formal shop instead of, like, on a fishing barge]), it didn’t take long at all to find something that was suitably mobile for the assassination in addition to making you look good as hell. It was a shade of blue you wouldn’t have gone for, originally, but Chieko made you see the light.

 With Hanazawa’s sartorial quirk, you felt more tailoring phantom pinpricks from Shouto’s side rather than on your own. You finished up much more quickly than he did, so you waited where the ladies left you at the tri-fold mirrors.

 You have never looked this good in your life, and you’re thrilled to bits about looking like this as you make Shouto’s life a lot easier once the big day passes. Y’know, you should have some sort of back-ups in case you don’t kill Endeavor on the first try. Where in your dress can you hide—? Oh, it has pockets.

 Fumbling in your copious skirts, you glanced up towards the mirrors for how well a gun-sized lump could be concealed at the waist, and Shouto was tilting his head at you in the reflection. Once you’d said fuck white dresses, Shouto must have decided to stray from traditional suits as well: his fitted, navy suit was unbuttoned to show the button-down the same blue as your dress, with a thin tie a shade darker—ultimately contributing to Shouto’s being horribly, horribly pretty, despite the strangely constipated expression.

 You spun towards him, your skirts following you (good for hasty, violent movements). “I was searching for a slit in the dress,” you said, smoothing out the fabric and bouncing on the balls of your feet, “It has pockets, but I was thinking about something that might not fit in them, especially if someone frisks me at the beginning of the night. I was thinking that I could strap a stiletto to my thigh—the knife, not the shoe—obviously—and use it if—”

 His expression darkened as he surged towards you and took a step up onto the modelling platform. You cut yourself off, unable to say anything more as a grimacing Shouto cradled your face in his palms (one of them noticeably hotter than usual), forcing you to stare up at him in his unbearably gentle way. He’s too overwhelming to look at this close up, but your gaze was drawn to his mouth as he opened and closed it, winced, and said after a beat: “It is imperative for you to know that I am dangerously near losing it.”

 Your eyes crossed for a second—first due to the heat of his breath washing over your skin, but his words really didn’t help your attempts to ground yourself. “Huh?”

 And Shouto was kissing you, kissing you with a quiet sort of desperation, his lips parting to lightly nibble on your lower lip, and ultimately soft and warm and annoyingly perfect. Something hot rushed up your spine when he curled his fingers snugly into the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck, pulling simply through the tension, and yes, it was him who used that pomegranate beeswax lip balm that you’d found between couch cushions at his house a few weeks ago, and fuck, just being in Shouto’s arms made you feel small but safe, and you never felt those, and never-never at the same time, and—

 It's amazing how Shouto can act like he wasn’t just caught kissing in public by three salesladies when you want to melt into the floor, how he can behave like a normal person while paying for the clothes, how he can stroll right out of the dress shop with you under his arm as if he hadn’t been sticking his tongue in your mouth reflected in three different mirrors, and Shouto, too pleased with himself, too influential, and too handsome for his own good, eventually conceded to taking the back way to U.A. so that you could patronise your favourite food stall in an attempt to ameliorate your worries—but he’d already accomplished that by shooting you a roguish grin and pressing his lips to your temple.

 ***

 So, that was your first kiss with Shouto, and it’s sizing up to be your last. He hasn’t touched you since then. Not even holding your hand.

 Mina mentioned you’ve developed an eye twitch, and not because of the scar-sharing.

 During Present Mic’s lesson on the finer subtleties of using his professional soundboard (a process he called sounding, despite your fervent attempts to convince him that that is not what that word means at all, so please stop saying it in front of the entire cafeteria on microphone), you let a thought you’d been trying to stifle surface: what if Shouto can no longer see you romantically? He got a taste, and now that the assassination day was almost here, he was backing off in order to cut ties with you with the least amount of pain.

 These concerns burdened and kept you from preventing yet another terrible Freudian slip from Present Mic over the intercom.

 Thrusting his phone with an entry for the urban dictionary pulled up on the screen, Aizawa-sensei came to relieve you of your duties, and you absently waved back at your dismissal, instead focused on Shouto’s unfairly handsome smile as you approached the bench where he usually waited for you to walk to the dorms. Walking alongside him, you bit at a hangnail and had the troubling thought that Shouto may have finally realised that is he so woefully and irrevocably out of your league that he would search for someone better after you killed his father, regardless of soulmate status.

 All of your insecurities bubbled up to smother and obfuscate the main point: you really wanted another kiss, and you weren’t sure you were getting another one.

 From a sideways glance, you garner that he’s texting Midoriya, but you can’t tell what. Even with his head bowed to text, Shouto maintained his usual grace and paused by the dorm mailboxes for you to knock on them for good luck, like normal. You did, hesitantly this time, because you’re going to need it. The assassination attempt was tomorrow, and you were about to bring up the questions you’ve been beating yourself up over.

 “Hi,” you said, even though you’re already well into the walk back to the dorms, “Hi, Shouto.”

 Shouto clicked his phone to sleep but kept it in his hand. “Hi.” He frowned. “Is something wrong?”

 You sighed, your breath clouding in the cold. “That’s what I wanted to ask you,” you said, shoving your hands in your coat pockets, “I’m—have I done something wrong?”

 Shouto blinked slowly, like a cat. “What do you mean?”

 “Um.” You took your hands out of your pockets only to return them a moment later. “I, uh. I was wondering if you were tired of being my soulmate or something along those lines? If I’m tiring to be with? I worry if I’m—I don’t know, suddenly repulsive. I know I may be jumping to conclusions, but from my perspective, you’ve been suddenly distant physically this past week and a half, ever since—since we kissed,” you said, rubbing the inside layer of your pocket between your fingers, “I don’t mean to pressure you. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. It’s just—and I know it hasn’t been long, and you’ve been busy with your scribbly notebook and meetings with your sisters and stuff—I miss you.”

 Sharply inhaling, Shouto scrunched his eyes shut and bit the inside of his cheek. “Do you know how painful it is for me to hear that,” he asked flatly.

 You’ve done it now. “Shouto, I’m sorry—”

 “That word you said. Repulsive.” Shouto took a step closer to you, his heavy exhale so cold it wasn’t visible in the winter air. “Nothing could be further from the truth. You’re entrancing. Anything you do or say can or will make me bust a nut.”

 You did a poor job of convincing him your snort-laugh was a sneeze. “Do you know what that—who taught you that?”

 He tilted his head. “Shinsou, but he told me not to snitch.” He rolled his shoulders back and shifted his jaw before very, very delicately taking your hand, curling his fingers into your palm, and once he sensed that he wasn’t going to react in a bust-a-nut way, his shoulders slackened. “I’m sorry that I caused you such trouble. It’s—ah.” Shouto frowned again, but he slid his phone into his back pocket so that he could hold your hand between both of his. “Like I said, I’m close to losing it when I’m around you. It’s hard holding myself back. It is in no way that you’re repulsive or that I’m tired of you. It’s more that I can’t get enough.”

 Nodding as your heart rate slowly went back to normal, you tugged him along the path to the dorms, your footsteps crunching in the frosted-over grass.

 “It’s not that I’m waiting until marriage to do anything with you, if that’s a concern of yours—”

 It…it wasn’t. Odd of him to bring that up.

 “—and again, I’m sorry for causing you distress, but I wanted to concentrate on tomorrow. To do it well and enjoy ourselves during. That’s a contributing factor to why I’ve been huddled off with my planner and consulting my sister about this sort of thing, since I want so hard to do this right.”

 Since when has Fuyumi known about the assassination plans?

 “But I assure you,” said Shouto, sliding his index finger along your jaw to guide your gaze towards his own, his voice growing firmer as he examined with darkened eyes your expression, “After tomorrow, I’m not holding back.”

 Your throat ran dry. “Uh. Good. Excellent.” You made a vain attempt to swallow in a way that wasn’t clearly desperate. “Cool. I’ll look forward to it.”

 He let you stew in the silence of innuendo as the two of you reached the entrance steps to 3-A’s dormitory, and you hopped up the first stair, spinning around when you had a nasty little perverted awful evil idea. “Shouto,” you said, grabbing the lapel of his coat, “May I kiss you?”

 “Of course. If you’ll allow me a moment.” Shouto shifted away from you for a bit, as if you couldn’t tell how and what he was adjusting with his belt, and his phone let out a chirrup.

 Feeling bold, you reached into the back pocket of his jeans (Shouto froze, even though your fingertips barely grazed him) to yank out his phone.

 “Midoriya’s saying something about bowling tonight?” You handed it to him once he turned around.

 “Yeah,” Shouto said, and he unlocked his phone to scan the text. “He and the rest of the guys have pooled to rent out a bowling alley for the bachelor party tonight, after Spirited Away at Kirishima’s folk’s house.”

 Laughing through your nose, you shook your head. “Shou, y’know that bachelor party isn’t a label you can whip out for every guys’ night. It’s specifically the guys’ night before the wedding.”

 Shouto shot you a wry smile. “I know.” He stowed his phone and took your hand again. “Let’s get you out of this cold; you don’t need to be sick tomorrow of all days.”

 He opened the door to the dorms for you. “What’s Ashido arranged for the girls to do tonight?”

 Huh. You hadn’t told him about the girls’ night tonight. “Mina’s been texting me about getting our nails done, and then she’s dragging me to a—well, she won’t directly say. She wants it to be a surprise, for some reason.” It’d be nice to have pretty nails while covered in the blood of your soulmate’s abuser. It would add to the overall posh vibes, you supposed. “In general, everyone’s been very secretive and giggly about it. Makes me nervous.”

 “After how composed you’ve been through this whole process? Bullshit,” said Shouto, startling you with his casual swearing and utmost confidence in you (but you were still welcoming it), “So long as you don’t quit on me before tomorrow at 11:00, you’ll be fine.” He stretched his arms above his head, making a quiet sort of grumble in the back of his throat, and he grinned when he caught you staring at his stomach. “By the way, my grandmother’s ring finally got resized,” he said as he dragged the hem of his sweater back down, “so I’ll be picking it up before the bachelor and bachelorette parties start. I know it’s cutting it close, but it’s worth it, wouldn’t you say?”

 He was grinning. The smug bastard was grinning—in his soft, gentle way that somehow emanated the fucking pinnacle of self-satisfaction—and you took a step away from him, scratching the back of your neck.

 “Ah, ha, ha,” you said, glancing around for anyone to come help you with this, but the commons were vacant. “What are—why are you choosing those particular words?”

 Shouto shuffled off his coat and reached to remove yours, and you let him, cogs unfortunately turning all the same direction at last. “You’re an advocate for using the proper words in the correct situations.”

 You were afraid of that.

 You strode into the kitchen and opened the fridge, scanning the inside of the door for Aoyama’s bougie soda (no touching!), which you took a can of, cracked open with a hiss, and chugged as if you were an alcoholic on death row and it was a bottle of contraband hand sanitiser.  

 “So,” you said eventually, pushing yourself up to sit on the kitchen counter, “Are we still on for tomorrow? The murder part, not the wedding part.”

 “I assumed you would kill him at the reception.”

 “Okay, no,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Let me be clear, since apparently we’ve been dancing around each other’s intentions all semester: are we killing your dad tomorrow, Shouto?”

 Shouto sidled next to you, his forearms flat on the counter to support some of his weight as he leant against it, with one of them pressed along the outside of your thigh. “I figured he would suffer enough seeing us be enormously happy and outside of his influence.” His pinkie finger traced along the side seam of your jeans. “While we may not like him, a lot of civilians value his work. And an assassination on our résumés wouldn’t do wonders for our careers post-graduation.”

 Well. You could annoy Endeavor for the rest of his stupid life. Enjoy his reactions. Chest heaving, you reached over to run your fingers through Shouto’s hair, and he tilted his chin up like a cat to lean into your touch. “Is he invited to the wedding?”

 “Of course not,” he said, his eyelashes fluttering as he shut his eyes—but he cracked one open. “Are we still getting married tomorrow?”

 “Aren’t we too young? And still in school, and aren’t we going to endanger each other—”

 Shouto guided your palm to his mouth and pressed a kiss into the centre. “Aren’t we soulmates?”

 Frowning, you said, “You make a convincing argument.”

 He hummed, and he shifted to your front, took your soda to set it aside, and parted your thighs to stand between them, his arms wrapping loosely around your hips (his sneaky little fingers dangling to graze your ass). “So, all this time, I’ve been planning a wedding, and you’ve been plotting an assassination.”

 “I guess,” you said, giving up and sliding your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him closer—the winter weather still hadn’t dissipated in the dorm’s heat, after all. “You shouldn’t’ve had to plan it all by yourself, though; I’m sorry I didn’t get my head out of my ass—”

 “What are you talking about? I want to make grand gestures for you. I want to put in the great effort that you’re worth,” he was saying into your shirt, his mouth moving suspiciously lower to your boobs, “I don’t want you to worry about what you shouldn’t have to; I want you to feel as at peace with me as I do with you—”

 “Shouto,” you said, pulling back to grab his chin, to make him look at you, “I fucking love you.”

  “I also find you acceptable,” he said, nodding seriously, but a soft laugh broke through the sternness when you slapped the back of your hand to your forehead and gasped loudly.

 “Shouto,” you said, your other hand over your heart, “Do you know how much pain that brings me? I’ve having—we’re having a heart attack, all because my fiancé won’t say he loves me, on the night before our—”

 “Funny,” he said softly, his hands flat on your thighs now that you’ve dramatically languished on the kitchen counter, “I don’t feel any pain.”

 Sitting upright again, you placed your hands over his, curling your fingers into his at an awkward angle.

 “I don’t feel any when I’m with you.”

 “Oh, you poetic bastard,” you said, drawing him near to plant an exasperated kiss on his cheek, followed by another to his scar (silencing his protest that he was being genuine), “Don’t you have certain words to tell me, pretty boy?”

 His smile at first was impulsive and then grew brighter as he chose to share it with you, and Shouto pulled you even closer to whisper them in your ear.

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz, @kissmebakugou

[ryuyejiho]

"On your knees" - Wooyoung

Pairing: Wooyoung X Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: 18+, Smut

Summary: Don't disturb the cook in the kitchen because it may end badly.

Word Count: ~1.2K

________________________________

"Would you be willing to kindly bring me flour from the pantry?"

"'Kindly? I help you all the time," I spoke up indignantly, but I wanted to laugh at how quickly he was getting annoyed

"You don't help. You just sit and comment on what I'm doing wrong" he threw the spoon into the sink and made an offended face, specifically looking at me so I could see how unhappy he was.

"Okay, okay, I'll get it. Jeez," with a heaviness I got up and headed for the pantry. After a few minutes I was back.

"When can we eat?" I asked, placing the bag of flour on a chair.

"Then when it's ready. It would be faster if you helped me," he turned around and put the flour in a cup.

"Well, what should I do?"

"Cut up that cucumber, tomato, lettuce and kimchi. Open all the cans of corn, beans and peas and pour the water out of them. Add to a bowl and mix. Later... I'll think of something for you," I rolled my eyes and took a knife in my hand. I sliced the cucumber but quickly got bored so I put the knife down and walked closer to him and hugged his back.

"Wooyoungie, honey, darling," I mumbled but he gave no response. Finally, I moved away from him and squeezed between him and the countertop, facing him. I grabbed his cheeks and squeezed so that his lips made a pout.

"Aaaah, stop, don't bother!" he exclaimed but couldn't hide his smile.

"I'm bored, can't we order take-out and do something else for this time?" I tried to convince him in a charming voice.

"No," he replied shortly and continued stirring something in the bowl while looking over my shoulder. I knew it wouldn't do anything and he was too adamant so standing on tiptoe I moved closer to his neck which I started kissing. At first he whined that I shouldn't disturb him, but I knew how much he liked it.

"Come on, I know you want to do something else now," I whispered in his ear at which his muscles tensed but he shook his head.

"If you want to eat fast then step back and don't bother me," he moved away from me standing by the induction cooker.

" I want to eat ... you," I said looking at him. He pulled his eyebrows together and gripped the countertop tighter. "We can finish later. So please..."

"Do you want to eat me?" he spoke up in a low voice quickly walking up to me, grabbed my hips and pressed me against the countertop.

"Yes..." I whispered. I honestly didn't expect such a sudden reaction but I won't complain.

""Then on your knees," he said it as if he was giving me an order, nodding his head in a gesture of demonstration.

I had to give myself a moment to understand what was happening, he grabbed the side of my neck and brought his face closer to mine. Repeating the same words, he began to push me down. I smiled and crouched down, immediately pulling down his sweatpants. I licked my lips as I saw his cock in front of me which was getting harder and harder. Without waiting a moment longer, I took it in my hand and put it in my mouth. He let out a loud hiss and clamped his fingers firmly on my head.

After a few minutes of sucking him lazily I wanted to pull him out but he prevented me from doing so, pushing my head to his hips. I started to choke but somehow it didn't particularly seem to bother me, to be honest I was starting to get used to it.

I guess Wooyoung's biggest fetish was choking, and he showed it more than once, once in a more drastic way and once in a less drastic way.

He pulled his cock out of my mouth for me to breathe but immediately put it in again, this time he was the one setting the pace. He was literally fucking my throat, I could feel the tip of his cock hitting the back of my throat and the pressure of his fingers on my head getting harder with each thrust.

I lifted my gaze and looked at him, he was looking at me with his lips parted from which fairly loud moans were pouring out, his hips moving back and forth. He moved his fingers of one hand to my cheek and held my hair tightly with his other hand.

I knew he was quite close to orgasm, his movements getting stronger, faster and sometimes careless with each passing minute. Whenever he was close nothing could stop him, always with only the goal in his mind to feel blissful as soon as possible. Of course, this doesn't mean that he doesn't pay attention to anything else but himself, he always does everything so that we can enjoy an orgasm together at the same time.

And when we were in a one-sided situation, like this one now, he always returned the favor. That's why I knew that the better I did him good, the better reward I would get.

"Is that what you wanted? Did you want to feel my cock in your mouth? Did you want to feel my cum?" I was unable to answer so I only muttered. But he suddenly stopped his movements and pulled his cock out of my mouth " Then you'll get it somewhere else".

He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me upwards immediately turning me around with my back to him. He pushed me impently onto the countertop and lifted one leg putting my knee on the countertop. I was uncomfortable, the edge of the countertop pressing into my hip. But when he pounded into me with his cock all those thoughts went away. All I could think about now was how good he felt inside me. How good he was fucking me.

He spanked my buttocks from time to time, pressing my body against the kitchen counter with his other hand. Because of his hard strokes into me, my body kept bouncing on the furniture. The entire kitchen was filled with the sounds of our bodies hitting each other, the banging of the cabinet door below me and the containers and bottles sliding around my head.

Our moans were getting louder, Wooyoung's thrusts were getting sloppier and not as rhythmic as before. He pounded faster and harder which brought me momentarily to orgasm. I felt through the overstimulation squirt on his thighs, moments after that he put his fingers on my clit and started rubbing it as fast as if his life depended on it.

Feeling all this pleasure and feeling his cum spill deep inside me, I came again squirting so much that his thigh was all wet and a small puddle formed on the floor between our legs.

He gave me one last spank and came out of me. When most of his cum had flowed out of me and was now dripping between my thighs, I stood up straight to kiss him. But he moved away and, smiling ominously, said " You think it's over? Go to the bedroom."

[p4rallel-universe]

Can I request a fic where the reader walks into the Gallagher house, looking for Ian but instead hears soft panting and groans coming from upstairs. You ignore it until someone shouts your names, looking around to find out what's up reveals lip with his hand down his pants and back arched- whimpering your name until- oop, I'll let you decide how it ends;)

encounters

(Lip Gallagher x Male reader)

nsfw

walking down the street, your phone held to your ear, you hear the call go to voicemail once again. Ian must be busy - working, or fucking, who knows - because he's not picking up your calls. you really need to see him, to talk to him about some family stuff that's been seriously bothering you.

Ian's your best friend. your ride or die. you get along with his whole family. helping Fiona whenever you can, even Lip smokes with you once in a while despite being pretty busy these days.

thinking of your last option, you decide to stop by the Gallagher house. you still have a spare key from sometime Ian let you borrow one. unlocking the door, you enter nonchalantly. the Gallagher household is like a second home to you, so there's no real boundaries for when you arrive. you kind of just...come and go.

"Ian?", you call out, to no answer. no sign of him, in fact, the whole house seems pretty empty. must be a busy day. you try shouting a couple more times, still to no reply.

figuring since you walked all the way here, to no avail, you may as well take a minute to rest on the couch. and take a beer from the fridge, what's one missing, right?

relaxing on the couch, sipping the beer (which always tastes better when stolen from the Gallagher fridge) you suddenly hear your name. you figure you must've misheard something, or imagined it completely - probably sleep deprivation, it wasn't a great night.

then you hear it again. it's loud in the way you can tell it's not meant to be shouted, so it's not like anyone's calling to you. it's kind of desperate. like someone's running, chasing you, trying to get your attention.

weirded out, you set your beer on the table and stand up, warily approaching the stairs. listening in, you hear a couple more sounds. there's a kind of out of breath panting. shortly after, another breathy call of your name.

perhaps against your better judgement, you ascend the stairs, making sure to be quiet - just in case. the sound of quiet groans becomes more clear as you reach the top of the steps.

"what the fuck-", you whisper to yourself. the sounds are coming from the spare room. where Lip's been sleeping. pressing your ear to the door, you hear the chorus of moans, groans, pants and desperate iterations of your name.

your face burns bright red, and a familiar feeling of anticipation and excitement pools in your stomach. the truth is, you've always found Lip crazy attractive. he's rough around the edges, intelligent and honest. and surprisingly, very loyal and caring. in short, he's sweet and hot. you'd be lying if you didn't say he was definitely one of the better perks of being Ian's best friend.

you wonder for a split second if what you're about to do is a good idea, before deciding you don't really care. you push open the door and see Lip in his rather desperate position. he's spread across the bed, dressed in only boxers and a tank top. his face is red from panting, and his back is arching him off the bed.

he's clearly very into his self pleasure, so he doesn't seem to notice you right away. trembling with every step, you move towards the bed, stopping by the side. one of Lip's eyes open and look at you. shockingly, he doesn't freak out. he doesn't even seem embarrassed. he is, as usual, cool as can be. he says nothing, just looks at you. his remaining pants turn into a bit of a chuckle.

hesitantly, you sit close to Lip on the bed. he furrows his brow at you. looking him right in the eyes, taking a deep breath. you reach and grab the bulge in his boxers. Lip's breath hitches.

he's absolutely rock hard and you can feel it. you can feel the strain, the need. you want to relieve Lip of this. of everything. you want to help him.

kissing him forcefully, you don't waste any time. hand reaching inside his boxers to stroke where he needs you most. he groans immediately. he grabs the wrist of the hand you're touching him with, he guides you up and down, faster. gripping your hand, making you hold him tighter.

his eyes are squeezed so tightly shut, his head is thrown back. harshly, with little to no patience, Lip grabs the back of your head, taking a second to play with your hair. there's that playful softness. the reason you've always liked Lip. the roughness, the want and need for something more, paired with a gentle goofyness. he flashes you a smile and before you can even go in to kiss him again - which you really want to do - he's guided your head downwards.

you figure there will be time for intimacy once the rush is over. eager to fulfill Lip's fantasy, - if you're honest, it's definitely yours too - you dip your head down immediately. taking him into your mouth, and he groans louder then ever. his big hands immediately grip onto your hair.

your hands are resting on his thighs as you bob your head up and down. he lets go of his iron grip on your hair to sit up and take off his wife-beater, the only piece of clothing he still has on.

he's glistening with sweat, you reach your hands up to feel his chest. when you groan around him at the feeling of his strong body, he growls in appreciation.

his grip tightens, back arching again. you pick up the pace, putting your all into giving Lip what he wants. what he needs. his groans get deeper, growls more frequent. you can tell by the tightness of his grip on your head that he's close. really close.

"fuck...", Lip grumbles, his deep voice rings out and settles in your head. playing on loop. fuck, fuck, fuck.

he cums with a deep shout of pleasure, arched body spasming as he pulls harshly on your hair.

working him through his aftershocks, his tensed body falls backwards onto the bed. his hand wipes sweat from his forehead. his hand, joined with yours, pulls you to lie next to him.

he turns to you, "fuck me, Y/N. didn't know you were so wild." he chuckles, blue eyes glossed over. in the afterglow of your hot encounter, you take a second to appreciate his boyish beauty. his curls, messed up from rolling around in his bed. smug smirk, a smile that reaches his bright eyes.

he glances down to see that you are, obviously, very hard. smiling to himself, he figures he'll give something new a shot today. he grabs your head, gently this time, and kisses your forehead. there's the intimacy.

he's rubbing you through your jeans, biting his lip in anticipation.

fuck.

(finished this one for the very nice anon 👌 )

[secondhand-snow]

a body of impulses

chapter 2: feeling like unraveling

lukas matsson x f!roy! reader (succession)

★ chapter 1 ★ | ★chapter 3★

wc: 9.0k+

warnings: super dysfunctional family, fluff first then angst, roman roy as his own warning, season 3 finale as its own warning, mentions of manipulation, drinking, smut, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, corruption kink (for real this time), dick pics, mention of phone sex, making out, dry humping/grinding, biting, pussyjobs, cum play/eating, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), aftercare, no use of y/n

summary: Lukas is amazing. He's tender, he's deviant, he's everything for you. But you're still worried, your family has never seen a beautiful thing that they haven't wanted to break.

author's note: chapter 2 is here, thank you for all the love on chapter 1! i hope you love it as much as i loved writing it ♡ be warned that this is heavy on the plot of episodes 3.08 and 3.09, so if you haven't watched the full show you may get a bit lost. please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

You have a tendency to get anxious when things are good for too long. A few weeks without a family fight, a month without a scandal, half a year without Kendall relapsing; nice things usually end in flames in your family. They make you superstitious, always looking around the corner for something to jump out and fuck everything up. So, when Lukas is good, you get scared. You expect some kind of backhand. A threat of blackmail, a tweet exposing your promiscuity, a package of anthrax at your door. 

It never comes.

He calls you every night, your timezone, not his. Listens to you talk about your day and doesn’t press when you can’t give him details on the company. He loves to send you pictures, just of him doing the most mundane things. Lukas on a Zoom meeting, Lukas working out, Lukas eating dinner. Together, you fall into something almost domestic. It’s still a secret. You don’t open his messages in public, stay far away from any conversations about him at work that could lead a blush to your face. But when has anything in your life been completely honest?

He’s been begging for a while now to fly you out to Sweden. You know it’s a risk you shouldn’t take at the moment, but you entertain him anyway. When you ask why he wants to see you so badly, he says he misses you. Then he says he wants to fuck you on his desk.

 That almost convinces you, and you’re about to start packing when a roadblock emerges. Your dad asks you to come with him and your siblings to Italy, for Caroline’s wedding. You hadn’t been planning on going, she wasn’t your mom and you didn’t have much of a relationship with her. In fact, you actually thought she secretly hated you, something to do with how quickly Logan married your mom after their divorce. Regardless, you didn’t want to go to the wedding. But when Logan Roy calls, you come. Always.

So the bags were repacked and you found yourself on a different private jet with your siblings, once again at the mercy of your family.

“She’s probably in sexual thrall to him. He’s driving her wild with his sugar dick.” Siobhan spoke matter of factly, completely oblivious to how absurd her words sounded. Still, it wasn’t the strangest conversation of hers you’d walked in on. “So there’s nothing we can do.”

 Roman was perched across the aisle from Tom and Shiv, sitting oddly in his seat, running his hand through his hair while he spoke. “All right, fine. Let him kill her for her emeralds and… screw us out of the fucking firm. See if I care.”

“Mommy issues?” You spoke up, setting your bag down on a free seat before moving to lean over the back of Shiv’s chair, kneeling on the seat behind it.

“Always. I didn’t know you were coming?” Rome turns to address you, eyebrows coming together in question.

“Dad drafted me. I think he just wants to terrorize Caroline with my presence.”

“I think you torment her enough by just existing. She doesn’t get to be the perfect mother of Logan Roy’s prodigal children.” Shiv pitched in, finally acknowledging your presence with a little smile.

“I don’t think I’m even invited to all the events. He’s just gonna have me working on the GoJo deal the whole time.”

“Oh! About the deal, I was talking to Karl and Frank-” Tom is addressing Roman more than you, but still gives you the courtesy of eye contact before your brother cuts him off. 

“Yeah, no, you’re not really a part of that. Either of you, actually.” Rome nods his head to the couple, a smirk on his face charged by his current power trip.

“Well, I am.” Shiv interjects, annoyed.

“Well, I can’t fire you yet Shiv, because I’m still a little bit scared of you. But, my thinking is, when I take over, I’m gonna put you in the office next to mine and you’re gonna be my sexy secretary.” You just shake your head at Roman’s comment while he turns to head back to his seat. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Siobhan is more irritated than really upset, going back to her phone as Roman leaves the conversation.

“I dunno. We’re working on it.” He taps the back on his legs in a rhythm before sitting down. “Ongoing process.”

You address Tom, seeing the confusion in his eyes that people tend to get when talking to your brother. “We’re just working on outlining terms. Honestly, Gerri would be better to ask for specifics. I don’t know how much Dad wants me to say.”

Tom just nods in thanks, which you return with a small smile before heading to your seat. You’re across the aisle from Roman, who’s already curled up and ready to nap on the flight. Taking out your phone, you see a new message from Lukas, covertly labeled in your phone with just an “L.” You turn the screen away from your company, making sure to not catch the reflection in the window as you open his text.

Stockholm is a 4 hour flight to Italy. 

Is it? I’ll be in the air for at least 10 hours.

10 hours without talking to you?

I think you can manage it.

I don’t know about Italy. I can’t be held responsible for what I do when I’m in the same country as you.

It’s a risk. 

Will there be a reward?

…I’ll text you when we land.

He sends a picture of himself doing a kissing face. You send a heart emoji in response, hiding your face with your hand to conceal your smile. 

It turns out that you were invited to a few events of Lady Caroline’s wedding. Not the ceremony, of course, but at least you were allowed to attend the receptions leading up to it. You weren’t going to be cooped up in a hotel room all weekend, signing documents and having Facetime sex with your not-boyfriend. In fact, you ended up at one of these events just a little after your arrival, a garden party full of snobby aristocrats and expensive champagne. It’s too hot out for your liking, you're already sweating in your semi-formal sundress and downing your second glass of cold bubbly. 

You end up with Shiv, partially blocked from the sun by the shadow of her hat, quietly snickering at her and Tom’s jokes about a clueless cousin Greg. It’s surprisingly calm for one of your family gatherings, no shouting or challenging or worse. The tranquility snaps like a twig with a ding on your phones.

“Uh- Matsson…” Shiv speaks first, the two of you pulling out your phones simultaneously, her angling her screen to share it with Tom. A message from Karolina leads you to Matsson’s twitter page, and his latest tweet. It’s a goofy gif of his face with a Snapchat filter on it, the text reading ‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.” You’re half excited, half alarmed. You don’t really know if you should believe it at first but, against your better judgment, you hope it’s true. Hope he’s just an hour or two from you, the closest he’s been in weeks.

 “What? Going to Macao? Feeling lucky?” Tom squints against the sun to see the Tweet before pulling out his own phone. “The fuck is that?”

“You get this thing from Karolina? It’s off the radar and now this? Is this- is it a move?” Gerri’s entrance is quick, followed closely behind by Roman. You open your mouth and close it again, not sure if your words will betray your duplicity.

“It, um, it could be…could be nothing, you know? Fucking social media fireworks!” Roman’s hand is threaded through his hair, the silver watch on his wrist glinting in the light.

“‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.’” Gerri repeats the four words, she’s as flabbergasted as everyone in this little Waystar circle. Business has once again interfered with pleasure. “Is he trying to boost his price?”

“Is he just rocking the boat?” Shiv’s voice is unsure, wavering from her usual monotone state. “Or trying to blow up the deal? I mean, has he got good subscriber numbers coming in?”

“Maybe he’s just going to Macao and he’s feeling lucky.” Tom chimes in as Rome steps away from the group, phone pressed to his ear in a call you can’t fully hear.

“I mean, yeah… It’s not out of his archetype to post something like this.” You shrug, not sure what to contribute that hasn’t already been said. 

Roman finishes his call, turning back to you to speak. “I don’t know, it’s like, his thing. He’s a- a trickster.”

“Okay. Well, sounds cool. Is he gonna, like, steal our watches and fucking saw the deal in half?” Shiv’s getting upset, you know she likes control and she’s too far removed from this deal to do anything about Matsson’s stunts. 

“Maybe!”

“You’re supposed to be inside this Rome!”

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. Mattson’s not stupid, he wouldn’t deliberty fuck this deal and announce it to the world on Twitter.” You’re trying to reason with your siblings, though it’s not really working. Roman mostly ignores you, Siobhan rolls her eyes. Atleast Gerri and Tom look somewhat appreciative for your input. 

“I am inside, Leave it.” 

You’re done with the dialogue, done with being the peacemaker and getting stepped over by your narcissistic siblings. You throw your hands up, phone held in one and the other in a flat palm to signify your retreat before you walk away from the cluster. You hear Greg say something behind you but don’t bother to answer him, instead moving to find a quiet place far away from your siblings.

You end up in a corner somewhere, mostly blocked by trees and bushes, a little cubby hole you hoped was private enough to not be listened in on. Your fingers nimbly click through the apps on your phone, pausing briefly before pressing the call button on Lukas’s contact. It rings once, twice. Then, an answer.

“When are you coming over? Should I send you a helicopter?”

“Macao?” Your voice is higher than normal, laced in shock and thrill.

“Closer than we’ve been in weeks.” The smile is apparent in his voice, he’s pleased with himself, you hate it. And love it.

“You’re fucking insane. I didn’t think you were serious!” 

“Yeah, I am. I’ll send my jet over.”

“Oh my God, I still cannot believe you. I can’t- my family is on high alert after your little rogue Tweet.” You laugh, not really mad at him, just eager and amazed.

“Oh come on, that was nothing.”

“It was a play to keep them on guard and you know it.”

“Well, partially. It’s for the numbers too. And for your attention.”

“It’s so hard to be away from you when you do shit like this…”

“Oh yeah? You miss me?” It’s a taunt, he knows the truth even if you deny it. So, you’re honest.

“You know I do.”

“Mmm… I miss you too. Keep thinking about what I’ll do when I see you again.”

“Lukas… I’m in public…” You can’t help but glance around, be sure you’re alone when he starts talking like this. His plan is already so clear to you.

“So you don’t want me to tell you about all the ways I’ll fuck you?”

“... Don’t do this to me now.”

“It’ll be just us in this house. I’ll take you wherever I want to. You can scream as loud as you want, don’t have to be worried about someone hearing.” His voice drops, there’s a small rustling on the phone. His words shoot straight to your core, a sensation beginning to form there.

“I’m at a fucking wedding party and you’re getting me turned on. You’re evil.”

“You love it.” You pause a moment, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself before responding. 

“I’ll call you tonight. Please be careful.”

He chuckles.“I will.”

When you hang up, your text thread with Lukas is immediately graced with a photo of his dick, hard and gripped tightly in his fist. It makes you inhale sharply, curse under your breath at the growing need between your thighs. You text him back, simply writing “Fuck you.” before clicking your phone off. It takes you a few minutes of breathing exercises, but you’re able to calm your desire and soothe the blush in your cheeks before returning to the party.

Nobody asks where you went, nobody even really cared that you were gone. You can blame it on Connor’s show of making a proposal, or Matsson’s antics occupying everyone’s minds, but this is how it always is with you. The good child. The innocent daughter. Forever right where she needs to be, never in anyone’s way, constantly willing to help. You disappear when you aren’t wanted, you emerge only when you’re useful. The perfect loyalist, somehow being turned to a deserter.

Lukas leaves Monaco before you can sneak away to see him. You know it’s for the better, but it’s still a disappointment. You resign to finish the family trip and visit Sweden as soon as you get home to New York, going along with the planned events, a false smile plastered on your face. It’s during Caroline’s bachelorette in Cortona when your plans change. You were nursing a glass of wine, silencing your discontent at the rooftop bar when Gerri approached you.

She dragged you around to speak with Roman, revealing that your Dad had once again put you on babysitting duty. Logan wanted Rome to go talk to Mattson at his house in Switzerland, and wanted you to keep him in line. He couldn’t trust Roman to not fuck the deal, but he didn’t want you to speak to Mattson alone. So, you were recruited to accompany Rome. Speak just enough to stop him from saying something stupid, but not enough to draw attention. It was a game you were good at, one you had been practicing since youth. You were loyal to a fault, and Logan always used it to his advantage. 

Lukas is ecstatic when you tell him you’re coming. Less so when he learns Roman is accompanying you, but still thrilled. You ask him for discretion, first nicely and then sternly. You can’t afford to make your relationship, whatever it is, public. He knows this too, knows what your family would do if they found out, but can’t help teasing. It’s only a day after Logan’s request that you board a helicopter, headed to Lake Maggiore. Headed to Lukas.

Roman is oddly quiet on the flight, constantly on his phone or looking out the window, eyes blank. You know him well enough to see the anxiety clouding his mind, feel the nervous energy radiating off his body. You reach over to him and hold his hand. He looks annoyed. He doesn’t drop it. You squeeze his fingers gently, he returns the motion, lets you quietly comfort him until you land.

 Lake Maggiore is beautiful, surrounded by the Alps and lush vegetation, villas and lake homes dotting the shores of the water. You move straight from the helicopter to a boat, which immediately takes off at high speeds, skating over the surface of the lake. The wind fucks up your hair, blows up the skirt of your sundress, almost makes you loose your sunglasses. When you finally dock, you quickly pull out your phone, using it as a mirror to fix your smudged makeup and windswept hair before your host arrives. Roman gives you a weird look, silently judging you for putting effort into your appearance. As if he doesn’t spend hours in front of the mirror every morning styling his hair to look perfectly imperfect. 

When Lukas’s frame finally emerges from the hedges of his property, you have to bite your lower lip to hide your smile. He’s so himself, wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, not bothering with real shoes, just a pair of casual slip-ons. It almost hurts to see him and not be able to immediately kiss him. Jesus, your inner monologue sounds like something from a cheesy rom-com. You feel so love-struck, it makes you crinkle your nose in embarrassment. 

The boat is tied up to the dock now, Roman perched on the side trying to make it onto solid land. The waves rock the vehicle back and forth, knocking him off balance and ruining his attempt at disembarking. 

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” Lukas has one hand in his pocket, the other reached out to Rome, close enough for him to grab. If he wanted to. “Come on, I’ll hold your hand.”

“Piss off.” Roman swats his hand away, finally moving off the boat with a small jump. You move, taking his place on the edge of the boat. It’s a bit unsteady, but you manage getting on to the dock in just a few seconds. You shoot a smug smile at Roman before following the two of them up some steps, away from the water and onto Lukas’s yard.

“It’s nice to see you again, man.” Roman speaks first, breaking the silence that had fallen over you three.

“Yeah, yeah. Long time.” Lukas has his usual posture, slightly hunched and lanky, with his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. 

“This is an amazing place!” Rome looks around, you continue to follow him and Lukas through the lawn, letting them lead you as you observe.

“Yeah...”

“No?”

“I don’t know, it kind of freaks me out, to be honest.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

“When I got it, I wanted everything to be perfect.” You climb a few steps, the group arriving at an outdoor pool area, lined with shrubs and facing the lake. “Now I’m sleeping on a camping mat until I get a deep dive on the best mattress in the world. It’s great- it’s great. I’m just not feeling great. I mean… I’m fine… Well, but, not really.”

You frown at his words. You want to reach out, hold his hand, touch his back, do something to comfort him. But it would be too obvious, too impulsive. Instead you nod sympathetically, catching his gaze for a moment.

“Maybe let’s leave the little feeley-feelings out of it. Cause I’m gonna give you nothing. Nothing!” Roman’s half joking. He hates emotions, tries to diffuse bad ones with humor, even if it feels inappropriate.

“Roman.” Your tone is a warning, pushing your sunglasses back on your head to give him a glare before turning to Lukas. “I get it. You want the best, but you don’t realize how boring perfection is when you always have it.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Success.. It doesn’t interest me anymore. It’s too easy. It’s fucking… anyone can do it. Analysis plus capital plus execution. But failure… that’s a secret.” Lukas is looking at you like you’re the only person in the world when he speaks. Sometimes he thinks you can see into his soul, you somehow know him better than anyone. He takes his sunglasses off, using the collar of his shirt to hold them. His blue eyes look directly into yours.“What are you worst at?”

“Well… I… am never telling you any of my weaknesses. Ever. Never, ever, ever.” Roman breaks into the conversation again, disrupts the eye contact between you two. “And I won’t let her tell you any either. Stuff a sock in her mouth, a ball gag or something.”

“That’s smart.”

“I know, I am smart.”

“Cause I ream people. Juice em like oranges. I get way too into people, and they disappoint me.” He looks at Roman when he says that, but you can’t help but take his words as a warning. Things moved fast between you and Lukas, you’ve barely known him for a few weeks and were already opening your heart to him. Letting him into your mind, letting him rearrange the furniture there like he owns it. “Hey, I’m thinking of doing like a- quarterly up and outs at the company.”

“Oh, yeah. Firing people is like, 85% of why I get up in the morning.” Roman shrugs when he talks, moving to take his sunglasses off and hold them in his hand. “But, uh.. I do want to ask you about that tweet, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh the…” Lukas laughs, looks at you, back to Roman. He makes a face, sticking out his tongue to mimic the Snapchat filter on his tweet. “That one.”

“Yeah. Seriously, yes. You got like, big shit coming your way?” Rome uses his free hand to run his fingers through his hair.

“...Are you- are you asking me for material nonpublic information?” Lukas’s grin is lopsided, he’s testing the two of you, seeing how far you’re really going to go.

“Maybe. Were you trying to get your share price up by tweeting unverifiable information outside of normal disclosure channels?” You cut in, raising your eyebrows at him, tilting your head in a way a little too close to flirting. Roman smiles at that, watches you exercise your knowledge like a proud father.

Lukas’s voice is mocking, a fake sad cartoon tone coming over it. “No, you’re not allowed to do that.” He moves his hands to his eyes, pretending to wipe his tears. “So mean.”

“Do you want this deal? Are you into it… like, at all?” Roman asks next. You’ve moved a bit from your area at the pool, following Matsson as he slowly circles the water. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m just a little Swedish, you know? I’m.. into equality.” He moves nonchalantly, like this deal isn’t as serious as it is. “I like getting into bed with people, but I also like to share it equally.”

“More of a merge than a takeover.” It isn’t a question, and it isn’t directed at Lukas. You turn to Roman as you say it, verbalizing what you both were thinking. Lukas just hums, doesn’t articulate a response. Even though you all know what it would be. 

“Okay. We’re just… heading to Milan to lock things down with our Dad and the bankers. And the tweet- it just didn’t feel great. If you’re hoping to blow this whole thing up, just tell me, okay?” Roman’s anxiety is back, you can see it in the tense way he’s started to move, in the higher tone of his voice.

“I just want to get myself the best. Of everything.” Lukas looks at you when he says it, darts his tongue out to lick his bottom lip. Roman’s too lost in his own head to notice it, or notice the way your breath catches in your throat. 

“Yeah, I fucking get that. Definlety.” Roman moves to pull out his phone, cursing under his breath when he reads a notification. “I uh- have to take a call really quickly. I’ll be in the boat, it shouldn’t take too long. Okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll give her a tour.” Lukas shrugs, sounding indifferent. Rome nods at him, then you, and quickly takes off towards the dock, already lifting the phone up to his ear as he walks. 

You watch him leave, round the corner and leave your line of vision before turning to Lukas, face neutral save for a hint of a smile. He’s less composed than you, smiling broadly and staring into your eyes. He walks closer to you, wraps his arm around the small of your back.

“Wanna show me around?” You raise your eyebrows in question, slightly rocking back and forth on your feet. He sighs quietly, nods, and moves to extend an arm for you to hold. 

“There’s really not much to see. Your average rich person house.” You hold his arm, walking with him into the villa as he speaks. 

The interior is nice. Well, you’re sure it cost several million dollars to furnish, but that was the standard you were used to. It’s Italian inspired with a few modern elements. You take note of the high end appliances everywhere you go. A thousand dollar air purifier, a ten thousand dollar toilet, a hundred thousand dollar refrigerator. Lukas really did want the best for himself. The downstairs looks strangely perfect, like there wasn’t really anyone living there. Everything is clean and immaculate, no traces of human life. This trend continues into the upstairs, only stopping when he shows you the primary bedroom. His bedroom.

It’s simply decorated, a bed, desk, dresser. A large TV mounted on the wall across from his bed, nightstands, some artwork on the walls. There are a few large windows on the farthest side of the room, offering a view to the lake. Most things are black, or gray, with a few navy blue accents here and there. You had slipped off your shoes when walking around the house, now you let the fall to the floor from dangling on your finger. Stepping into the room, you walk until you round the bed, seeing a camping sleep matt rolled up and leaning on a wall. The sight brings a little smile to your face before you turn to Lukas’s desk, fingers grazing softly against the wood of it. 

He has a Macbook laying on it, a pair of over-ear headphones sitting next to it. There’s a cup with a few pencils and pens, a box of tissues. It’s not much, but it’s something. Above his desk sit a few wall mounted bookshelves, made of the same wood. The books on them are mostly motivational, shit that he definitely hasn’t read. One thing does catch your eye though, an older coding textbook written in Swedish. It looks worn, the spine cracked and the pages wrinkled. Your fingers move to trace along the row of books, following them until the shelf ends and you meet the wall behind it. 

“I like it. Very you.” You move your gaze back to Lukas, who’s been leaning in the doorway, watching you explore.

“Very me?”

“It’s exactly what I pictured.” You walk up to him as he steps inside, right at the foot of the bed, just a few inches apart. “Have you really been sleeping on a mat on the floor?”

“Yeah…” You wrap your hands around the back of his neck as his sentence trails off and he moves to grab your hips, closing the distance between you.

“Lukas, just sleep on the mattress. Your back is gonna get all fucked up.”

“Probably. I just- I don’t trust it. I want something I know is good, you know?”  His reasoning makes you roll your eyes.

“It’s better than a camping mat.”

“Hey- that’s the best camping mat money can buy.”

Your hand moves to cup his face, bringing him to you and planting a light kiss on his mouth. He tries to deepen it, follows your face when you pull away, looks like a sad puppy when you deny him.

“So you haven’t used the mattress at all…?” You smirk, quirking your eyebrows teasingly.

“Not yet…” Lukas grins, his eyes traveling from yours to your lips. “Why? Do you wanna help me break it in?”

You don’t answer, just smile, roll your eyes playfully, and move away from him. You turn so your back is facing the bed, and with all the drama you can muster, flop down onto the mattress. It cushions your fall nicely, though you do get left a bit breathless and giggly. Your knees dangle off the side of the bed, feet almost grazing the ground as you kick your legs. 

“It’s really not bad.” You don’t bother raising your head, just direct your words to him knowing he’ll hear. “Not the best, but definitely ‘trustworthy.’” Laughing when he sighs in response, you throw your arms up and stretch theatrically.

You feel a hand on your knee, spreading your thighs wider apart. He slots himself between your legs, moves his hand to your waist, and pulls you quickly to him. The bed is high enough that your hips meet each other roughly, a gasp escaping your mouth at the sudden pressure on your vulva. Lukas is already half hard, and making the most subtle movements to grind you perfectly against his cock. 

“Lukas… Roman is just outside…” You’re already a bit breathless, still allowing him to rub against you as you speak. He leans close to you, tall frame bending at the waist to brush his lips against your ear, still keeping his hips flush to your as he moves. 

“I guess we’ll have to be quick then.” He places a kiss to your jawline, starting a messy trail down your neck. Lukas pauses to nip the slope of your shoulder. “And you’ll have to be quiet.”

He lifts his head, eyes staring straight into yours, and waits for your response. Your lips are already parted, breath coming quick and cheeks flushed with desire. The lust clouds your judgment, as it always seems to do with Lukas. Impulse takes over and, with a hand threaded into his hair, you pull his mouth to yours roughly.  

It’s rushed and powerful. All teeth and tongue, no time for being gentle, no time for romantics. You bite his lip, he groans into your open mouth. Your legs move around his hips, keeping his body close as he ruts against your clothed core. His movements started soft and teasing, but now he’s fully thrusting against you, rough and wanting. It feels hard and hot, has your eyes shutting and your mouth whimpering. You love being close to him like this, hearing his panting in your ear, his lips on your throat, his chest pressed to yours. But it’s not quite enough. 

“Fuck Lukas, I need more.” He pulls his head from his attack on your throat, looks at you with a grin on his face.

“You need more?” You nod, a little frantically with a small hum. “Look at you, asking for things. Tell me what you want.”

You’re a bit hesitant, cheeks still red from the vulgarity of your situation. Your mouth opens and then closes again, biting your lower lip as you try to find the right words. His hand comes to your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks as he forces your eye contact with him. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“I just want to feel you- really feel you.” Honestly, you don’t know exactly what you want. You’re so needy, you can feel how uncomfortably wet you’ve gotten and just need some kind of satisfaction. “You can fuck me.”

He shakes his head, still smiling. “No, not yet. I have plans for that, it’ll be special.” His words are a little shocking, but turn you on even more.

“Please Lukas. I need you.” Your voice is barely a whisper, laced with want. The motion of his hips has stopped and you feel yourself desperately grind yourself against him for some relief. His hands move to your hips to hold you in place, releasing the grip on your chin.

“I’m not taking your virginity in a quickie where I can’t even get you naked. And you need to be able to walk after this.” He moves and pushes your dress up, exposing the lower half of your body. “Here you’ll like this.”

 Your panties are soaked. His gaze moves down and he notices, gives a small chuckle, runs a finger up your clothed slit. It makes you shudder and whine deeply in your throat as a response. Hooking a finger around both sides of your panties, he pulls the fabric off with one quick motion, dropping them to the floor when he’s finished. He moves from between your thighs briefly, causing you to instinctively shut your legs. Lukas pulls down his pants then, just enough to expose his cock, hard and leaking already.

He moves back, uses a hand to gently spread your legs as the other grips the base of his cock. He’s so close, his dick hovering just above your cunt. Your eyes go wide with anticipation, a light gasp escapes from your lips. Then, Lukas moves. His hips angle downwards and, using his hand to guide his cock, he gently rubs his length over your slit. The feeling is immediately intense. It’s wet and strong and burning, and when his tip touches your clit you swear your vision goes white. You really can’t help the moan that escapes you, it’s Lukas that caused it. 

“Shhh… I know, I know. But you don’t want someone to hear.” He leans over you, presses a light kiss to your mouth and grabs one of your hands. Moving your hand over your mouth, he helps you press your palm to your lips, muffling the noises coming from your lips. You nod in response, keeping your hand there when he moves his away, gripping back on to your hips to hold you in place. “Don’t want everyone to know how I’m corrupting you.”

Another moan leaves your mouth at that, luckily much quieter due to your palm. Your free hand flys down, grips over his on your hip. He keeps moving, parting your lips and spreading wetness across your pussy, hitting your clit perfectly with each thrust. A curse leaves his throat when your back begins to arch, the white hot feeling in your cunt growing fast. You can almost feel the restraint leaving his body, feel the roll of his hips getting heavier, harsher. A tear rolls down your cheek, your eyes wet with the sheer strength of this new pleasure you’re experiencing. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so good, so quiet for me.” Lukas’s accent is thicker now, his head tipping back in pleasure as he ruts against you with abandon, chasing his climax. “So fucking beautiful like this.”

That’s all it really takes for you to fall apart, cumming on his cock. Your orgasm hits in a wave, making your thighs shake and eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy. You’re incredibly glad for the hand on your mouth as it muffles the high moan that leaves your lips. You don’t see him with your eyes shut, but the groans you hear let you know that Lukas is not far behind you. A few mascara stained tears run from your eyes when you open them again, your gaze being met with Lukas’s head tilted toward the ceiling, his mouth open in pleasure. 

His cock moves from your cunt, positioning over your lower stomach. His hand moves, jerking himself roughly as he looks down to meet your eyes. Your hand moves from your mouth, and you sit up a bit as you reach for him, fingers coming to rest on his hip to keep him close to you. Another low curse falls from his mouth, and with a gravely groan he cums. White ropes shoot across your stomach, resting on your skin warmly. You whimper in sympathy, watching as he twitches and bucks against his hand recklessly. 

Lukas’s chest rises and falls quickly, breath coming fast and deep as his orgasm washes over him. When his eyes reopen, he’s quick to pull you up to meet his mouth with a burning kiss. The kiss isn’t long, but when you pull away he rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut and breathing slowly returning to normal. You stay that way for a while, just close and quiet. A few moments pass, and when he moves to stand back up you take the time to dart your hand down and gather up some of the cum on your pelvis, licking it off your finger as you raise it to your mouth.

He quietly laughs, blissed out and smiley. “You love that, don’t you?”

“Mhm. I don’t know- ‘just makes me feel close to you.” He kisses you again, softly this time, almost proud.

“I’m making a monster. First you ask me to fuck you and now you’re swallowing my cum.” He moves to his dresser, retrieving a hand towel as you sit on the bed, careful to not let any of his spend drip onto the sheets. 

“Why didn’t you fuck me?” Your head tilts as you ask. He moves to kneel in front of you, gently wiping the cum from your skin as he answers.

“I told you, I’m gonna make it special for your first time.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll even let you be my first time, now that you’ve rejected me.” It’s playful and he knows it, grinning up at you as he moves to wipe the wetness from the inside of your thighs.

“It wasn’t a rejection, it was a postponing.” Lukas stands, quickly cleaning off before tucking himself away and turning to look for your panties. “And who else would it be? Are you cheating on me?”

“No, but I can’t cheat on you if weren’t not together.” He pauses at that, head cocking as he makes eye contact with you.

“We aren’t together?”

“You haven’t asked me!”

“I thought it was self-evident. You don’t need to ask if it’s already obvious.” Lukas stoops to grab your panties from the floor, moving to hand them to you. 

You accept the fabric in an outstretched hand, setting it on the bed next to you. “Well, I would like you to ask. Make it official.”

He gives a dramatic sigh, reaches out and grabs your hands to pull you to standing. Lukas holds your hands, smiles and looks into your eyes. “Will you date me?”

You think about teasing him, making him wait, but your excitement gets the best of you and you release your answer quickly. “Yes, I will date you, Lukas Matsson.”

Your kiss is domestic and cheesy, after you separate he pulls you back into his body, rests his chin on your head for a while while he holds you close. You end up leaving your panties with him, they're still too wet to wear comfortably. Lukas helps you fix your makeup and hair, and you check to make sure your lip gloss isn’t all over his mouth (it was). He fastens your shoes back on for you, kneeling in front of you so you don’t have to bend over with your still shaky legs. He holds your hand until you reach outside and you put some space between yourselves as you enter public once more.

Roman is just finishing his call when you get back to the boat, waving at you as he quickly hangs up. You give Lukas a handshake, Rome just shouts his goodbye from a distance, and you quickly speed off again across the lake as soon as you enter the boat. Once again separated, you swear you immediately feel heavier without Lukas’s presence.

Your brother thinks the deal is fucked, he makes that clear when you’re alone again. He half blames you, half blames himself. Either way, he’s scared shitless to tell your dad about Matsson’s merge idea. So it’s a major shock when you arrive in Milan and Logan is receptive to the proposal. He praises Roman openly for once, and even commends you on your role in negotiating the deal.

But good things don’t tend to stay good for long in your family. You know something’s wrong when Logan calls you and Shiv into his office abruptly, right before your meeting with the bankers is supposed to begin. It honestly doesn’t surprise you as much as some would think to learn Roman had been sexting Gerri. You try to defend him against Shiv’s attacks, but it doesn’t do much good, not when the evidence is sitting in front of you. At the very least, you make some kind of progress covering for Gerri, reminding your dad of her loyalty. 

Things are weird and fucked the next day. The night before Comfrey had texted you to let you know that Kendall was in the hospital. She wouldn’t say what happened, just that they were keeping him overnight and he was okay. You texted your siblings but everyone was skirting around the answer with you. They knew you cared about Kendall, maybe too much, and that telling you he had nearly drowned (possibly by his own doing) would set you off like a firework.

You wanted to go visit Kendall the next day, or be there when he arrived at the villa, or just do something to help him out. But he didn’t answer your calls and all the information you were given was extremely vague. You weren’t invited to Caroline’s wedding ceremony, so you planned on staying in bed and Facetiming with Lukas all day, waiting for a response from your brother. Your day starts off that way, sleeping in and chatting with your boyfriend into the late morning, but then Lukas tells you about Gojo’s market cap. You knew he was good, you knew he was doing all he could to get the market in Gojo’s favor, but you never expected it’s worth would surpass Waystar’s.

It’s no surprise that your dad ends up calling you, recruiting you to join him on a trip to Matsson’s. When he tells you he’s considering not inviting Roman, you manage to convince him to bring him too, citing his friendship with Matsson as a cause. So you head to Lake Maggiore, again, and arrive at Lukas Matsson’s villa, again. The excitement you feel when seeing him is shrouded in the anxiety of the sudden meeting. 

You feel like every glance between the two of you is obvious. The way he parts his lips, the way your eyes drift across his frame, it’s all unmistakable of two lovers. 

Lukas leads the three of you to an outdoor area on his grounds and when the conversation starts, his intent is clear. He didn’t tell you he wanted to buy Waystar, well he may have hinted at it, but it still feels like a bit of a betrayal. Like a shock. Even worse of a shock, Logan doesn’t immediately hate it, not in his usual way.

“Yeah. This is not happening.” The rage isn’t there behind Logan’s words. His gaze drifts to Roman, then back to Matsson. Lukas raises his eyebrows.

“Okay, I see that. Understood. But, you want to stick around? See if the old deal still has shape? Side snacks?” Logan smiles, he actually smiles, at Matsson’s offer. “You have that Israeli AI operation I might like. Maybe an asset swap sort of thing?”

“Why not.” The eye contact between Lukas and your dad is never ending. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. “Rome, you should head back. For your mom, and everything.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Roman looks to you, motions with his thumb in the general direction of the dock. “Do you wanna…?”

“I’m not going to the wedding. Not invited.” You offer a small smile, look to Logan for reassurance. 

“We’ll catch up with you later, Romulus.” 

Roman is dejected. An intruder, again. An outsider in the deal he’s worked so hard on, the deal he partially started. “Alright. Hate to miss the big nuptials! So… yeah. I’ll just go do that then…” He’s hesitant to go, pats you on the leg as he leaves, Dad on the shoulder.

They wait to start speaking again until well after he’s left, and when they do it’s straight to business. Your dad wants to sell. Lukas wants to buy. You’re the reluctant bridge between. Things move inside, to a formal dining room, and the real discussion begins. Numbers start to fly, calls get made, lawyers begin flying out. You end up doing more work than you meant to, arguing for both GoJo and Waystar. Trying desperately to keep all the men in your life happy. At the same time, you’re conflicted. You know your siblings will hate this deal, you know how badly they want to inherit the company, how hard they’ve worked for one of them to eventually be CEO.

But the thing is, you don’t hate the deal. You were never going to lead Waystar, never going to be more than the founder’s child. You’re the youngest Roy sibling, a woman, and from a different marriage than the others. There was no chance of you ever being number one, and you knew that from the day you were born. So why not sell the company? You don’t want to dedicate your entire life to this soul crushing work. At the same time, you care so much for your family, more than you do for yourself. This would wreck your siblings, they wanted Waystar more than they wanted life itself. Even if being family owned fucks you, it means the world to them.

 When you finally leave Lukas’s, it’s well past the wedding ceremony, and it’s clear Dad doesn’t intend on joining the afterparty. The operation moves to Logan’s villa. The cavalry marches in, dressed in designer suits and holding briefcases stuffed with Macbooks. There’s dozens of people you’ve never even met swarming around a huge table. It doesn’t even feel real, like you’re watching a dream, or a nightmare, play out in front of you. You retire to your dads private office, curl up on a leather upholstered couch and just think. You know you should tell your siblings. Siobhan and Roman have been blowing up your phone for hours, you haven’t had the heart to answer. Your dad would kill you if you reached out. Ostracize you like Roman, or disown you like Kendall. Your brain feels like a whirlpool, your thoughts flying around enough to give you a headache. You turn to the only person you can think of.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“...”

“Are you okay?” Lukas’s voice is genuinely worried, silence isn’t normal in the conversations between you two. You hear a rustling on the other line like he’s stood up.

“I don’t really know. I wish you were here.” 

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“I feel like a traitor.”

“Why?”

“My siblings… you know they will hate this deal.” You stress the word hate, voice a little bit breathless with anxiety. 

“I do.” His voice is quiet, almost whispering as he speaks to you.

“They would rather die than sell Waystar. But I-” You sigh, swallow thickly. “I almost agree with Dad. I think this is a good move for us. Not just because I’m fucking the guy who’s buying the company.”

“Well then, why do you agree?”

“If we don’t sell, we’re gonna get swallowed whole. All we have is the content, not the platform to back it up, not new technology to keep us relevant.”

“That’s all true.” Lukas’s voice gets a little louder, his sentences trailing off a bit as he prompts you to keep talking.

“But even if we had that, even if we were doing better, we were more stable…”

“You still would want to sell?” He already knows what’s on your mind. Of course he does.

“I think so… I mean, I will never be CEO. Not if we’re family owned, not if we’re owned by GoJo, never. And I don’t want to spend my life in this company, especially if I’m not running it.” Your head tips back against the wall you’re leaning on. You’re hiding away in a bathroom, your voice echoing a bit as it bounces off the marble walls. “This work… it fucking destroys people.” 

“It sounds like you already know what you think.”

“But Shiv and Roman and Kendall… They want the company so badly. They’ve been prepped to run it since they were kids. Even if they kill each other for CEO, at least one of them would get what they wanted.” You’re louder now, voice still stressed but frustration peaking through.

“You need to stop wasting your life making other people happy. You would do anything for your family, and they wouldn’t do shit for you.” Lukas’s tone isn’t angry or yelling, it’s stating a fact.

“That’s not true-”

“Is it? I see you go above and beyond for them every single day, and they never spare you a second glance.” Lukas’s voice is almost pleading when he speaks next. “Think about yourself, for once. Please.” 

“Thank you.” Your eyes are brimmed with tears, your fingers coming up to brush them away quickly. “I will.”

There’s a small pause before he talks again. “Are you mad I didn’t tell you about buying Waystar?” You laugh, breathlessly, at the simpleness of his question after all you’ve just talked about.

“No, I’m not mad. I was shocked…but I think it’s worn off. You’re just doing what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“I think you’re really smart actually. If I was in your position I’d do the same thing.” You move from your stance against the wall to look in the mirror, checking to fix any smudged mascara.

“That’s what I thought. I asked myself what you would do.”

“No, you did not.”

“No, I did not. I did think about how it would affect you though.”

“Thank you for that.” It’s half sarcastic, but you know he really does care for you. 

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ll talk to you later today.”

“Okay. Come visit soon.” Lukas ends like he always does, asking for your presence. 

“I’ll try.”

It takes you a minute to compose yourself. Fix your hair, wipe off some of your fucked up concealer, blow your nose. You exit the bathroom, walk down the hall and down some stairs, finally arriving in front of the massive wooden doors leading to your dad’s office. Your brain is finally quieter now, thoughts forming clearer and headache fading quickly. You slip a small smile to the bodyguard, Colin, who opens the door for you to enter. 

Your three siblings are there, backs facing the door as they stare down Logan, who’s just moved to press a button on the phone resting against his desk. Their heads snap to you. The door shuts behind you. Siobhan opens her mouth, but you speak before she does.

“What’s going on? When did you get here?”

“What’s going on? You know what’s going on, Dad is selling and fucking our entire lives up.” Shiv faces you, her eyes are daggers and her body is a rocket about to explode. “And you didn’t tell us.”

“No, he’s not fucking your lives up. It’s not the end of the world, Shiv.” You approach them, eyes wide and pleading. 

“So you do know. You knew he was selling the company and you didn’t think ‘Hmm maybe I should tell my siblings this, you know, since they’ve spent their entire lives thinking they were going to run Waystar!’” Roman throws his hands up, his jaw is clenched and his eyes are watering.

“Do you think it would’ve made a difference?” Your voice drops, both in tone and volume. “Do you really think I have any sort of control? Any say in what happens?”

Everyone is quiet for a moment, Kendall won’t make eye contact with you. Logan is watching you intently before gazing at his other children’s faces.

“I have never, and will never, be number one. I will never have control over the company, I will never even have control over one branch of the company. I will never be CEO, I won’t even make it to CFO, because I will always be lower than you. And I will always be there for you to yell at and use and manipulate. You already fucking do!” You’re more angry than sad now, maybe it’s misdirected, but you’re too wound up to care. “For once in my life, I’m thinking about myself. And I will not let this shit, this work, destroy me like it has destroyed you.”

A few tears spill from your eyes, you don’t bother to wipe them up, just continue your eye contact with your siblings. You’re right and everyone knows it, from Gerri and Karl sitting on the couch to Logan in front of you. Shiv can’t hold your gaze anymore, she drops her eyes to the ground. Roman turns to your Dad, his eyes are wide and desperate.

“Please?” His voice is meek, barely a whisper.

“‘Please?’ You bust in here with guns, but now that you find they’ve turned to fucking sausages, you want to say ‘please?’” Logan moves from where he was half-sitting on the arm of a couch to stand in front of your siblings. “You should have trusted me.”

“Dad, why?” 

“Oh you need me to tell you why? Like your sister didn’t already? But your too fucking ashamed to admit she’s right.” He begins walking to the door, past your siblings, pausing at you to put a hand on your shoulder. “Because it works. I fucking win. Now go on, go on, fuck off you nosey fucking pedestrians.” 

The doors open, Logan is immediately tasked with papers to sign and business to attend to. Roman moves to Jerri, asks her something you don’t quite hear from the blood rushing in your ears, before moving back to the crowd of your siblings. Roman crumples to the floor, Kendall with his hands on his shoulders, Shiv next to them. You turn to see Tom entering, him offering you a weak smile as he passes.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Kendall.” Your voice is monotone. Ken looks up at you, opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it. Tom starts speaking to Shiv, but you don’t hear what he says, already turning to walk out the doors, to head back to your hotel suite, to head away from your family. 

You stay on the phone with Lukas the rest of that night. You can’t sleep but you don’t want to be awake. He eases the pain. He says he’s proud of you. He cares more than anyone you’ve known. 

When you finally fall asleep in the early morning hours, you dream of space. You’re a cosmonaut, dancing on Saturn’s rings, playing baseball with meteors. The darkness is liminal, and pure, and calm. And the constellations are breathing around you, lighting your lawless orbit. You break the trail of a comet, its fire dotting the sky like a stitch on black cloth. Venus is a stray dog, following you wherever you lead it, spinning for attention and praise. Stars flicker like faces, you can’t recognize who they are anymore.

 When you touch the Earth, everything sings.

© secondhand-snow 2024

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: language, angst, references to SA, depression, PTSD, some mild sexual talk

A/N: I live nowhere near the places we talk about below, I relied heavily on google maps

Chapter Seventeen

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

July 2004

Denver, CO

It's been a little over a month since you and Joel fled Kansas City. Joel was determined to create as much distance as quickly as possible, focusing every day on walking as far as your legs would take you. At first, he was terrified of Amy's people coming after you when they inevitably found Keith's body. Once it became more and more unlikely that you would cross paths with them, his anxiety shifted to the terrain. There wasn't much cover between Kansas City and Denver, it being mostly open plains, so it encouraged Joel to constantly keep moving. He told you these excuses to keep you traveling west, towards the mountains, but what he didn't say was he wanted the distraction. For both you and for him.

Every spare moment he had he found himself reliving that horrible night, the things you went through while he failed to keep you safe. While fucking Amy was coming onto him in that shitty little office. He had never told you about his interaction with her. He knew right now it could be the very thing that would break you. He didn't see the point in it anyway, nothing had happened, but in the interest of being completely honest, he planned to tell you one day. Just not now. Right now, you were an absolute mess, like a fragile flower that had been ruthlessly stomped on and was desperately clinging to life. It broke his heart to look at your sullen features every day, features that used to be filled with so much joy and warmth. He couldn't even remember the last time he saw you smile or saw a spark in your eye.

Once your shock wore off, he found out very quickly that you didn't want to be touched. That first night when he made camp, after he got you out of the city limits and back into the forest as deep as you could go in the pitch black of night, he tried to hold you, tried to talk about what happened. But you had jumped at his touch, scrambling away with your eyes wild, nearly tripping over your feet. You apologized to him, and you forced yourself to let him hug you, but he could feel how tense you were in his arms, how uncomfortable you were, and his heart shattered. You had been through enough and he wasn't going to force you to do anything, even if it killed him every time he caught himself instinctually reaching out to you at night. He left it in your hands to make the first move. When you were ready, he knew you would. But it's been over a month, and you hadn't tried to touch him, even to hold his hand or to tap his shoulder to get his attention. He knew not to take it personally, that it wasn't his touch, but it was any touch that you despised. Even though he knew this, his heart and body still ached for you.

You would talk to him, although it wasn't ever playful or flirty anymore. Mostly just about survival. He felt like you were distant and detached, like you were on autopilot. You never mentioned the assault, and he didn't bring it up. He knew it was his fault. It ate him alive, and he carried that burden with him every day. Selfishly, he felt like he was grieving a loss. The loss of the person you once were. And he was terrified he was never going to get you back.

Joel did the only thing he could think of, and that was to give you space. He knew you needed to process your trauma and he didn't want to force you through it. So, he gave you space, but he physically never let you out of his sight. He was never going to make that mistake again. He wouldn't ever tell you that even when you said you needed to pee, he would follow you just enough to keep an eye on you. He definitely would never tell you that when he followed you, he watched you sob quietly into your hands for a few minutes almost every day, at least once a day. Most often he had to fight the urge to cry himself. It destroyed him that you kept your emotions hidden, that you didn't feel comfortable expressing your grief to him.

Before you entered the community in Kansas City, you had said to him "us or them, right?" And he told you yes, it was always the both of you against the world. It was beginning to feel like there was no more "us", that his broken promise destroyed everything. Even when you had to kill someone for the first time, it ripped you apart, but you still went to him for comfort. You sobbed in his arms until you ran out of breath, and then he tried to fix it for you. Afterwards, you were distant, but he was able to draw you back out. This was not like that time. Nothing he did worked, and his grief was morphing into fear. Fear of losing you forever.

"Joel?" you quietly called out behind him, and his head snapped around to face you, desperate for anything you offered him.

"Can we rest soon?" you asked, shifting your backpack on your shoulders. "It's so hot, and I -"

"Yeah, 'course, let's stop here. There's a stream I saw nearby, I can still hear it. We can fill our canteens and wash up a bit," he was too overeager, he knew it, as he tried to give you anything you wanted. You flopped down on a broken tree trunk and hung your head between your knees. He rustled around in his pack until he found some unopened trail mix and a can of chicken. He reached both out to you, waving them low to the ground so you would see. You saw the chicken and brought your head back up to meet his gaze, your jaw hanging open.

"When did you get that?" It was never a favorite of yours before the world ended, but you developed a taste for it over time, growing sick of the same old granola bars and soup.

He couldn't help but smile. You weren't the happiest he’d ever seen you, but some color returned to your face, and that was progress in his book.

"Found it in that rest stop yesterday. Wanted to surprise you," he shook the can and the trail mix, urging you to take it from him. You were so eager that your fingers accidentally slid along his, and his heart leapt into his throat. For once, you didn't flinch at the contact, or maybe in your excitement you didn't notice, but either way he had a hard time wiping the smile off his face.

He sat on the forest floor across from you and ate some beef jerky, admiring the trees. According to his map, you were on the west side of Denver now, in the middle of a huge cluster of mountains and forests. He noticed you seemed more at ease in nature. More protected. He had been to Yellowstone with Tommy in his 20s, and he had fond memories of the trip. Tommy always used to talk about it, and even had pictures framed in his office. He didn't mention it to you yet, but his goal was to take you there. Maybe it would give you peace the way it brought him peace in his memories. He remembered there being tons of campgrounds. He liked to imagine finding a safe and secluded area and fixing up a cabin to have a wraparound porch with blue shutters. He knew it was a long shot, but it was the one fantasy he allowed himself to have.

"We've been walking for so long, and it's been so hot," you said, breaking the silence. "Do you think if we find a place, maybe we can stay for a bit? Until the weather breaks?" You looked up at him from your food, eyes hopeful. He could never say no to you. Yellowstone can wait.

"Yes," he said, "I'm sorry. Next time we find a shelter that's in good shape, we can lay low for a while."

"You don't need to be sorry," you said, picking at your trail mix.

"Yeah, I do." Joel replied, his eyebrows bunched together. You regarded him carefully, reading between the lines.

You didn't want to bring it up. You didn't want to think about it. You shifted your weight uncomfortably on the tree and looked at the ground.

"You wanna go wash up in that stream? I'll keep watch, don't know if we'll get another chance for a while," he said, changing the subject immediately. You could see the pain he was hiding behind his eyes, you saw it every day. You wanted to reach out to him, to help relieve his guilt, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. Not because you thought it was his fault, although early on you admittedly did blame him. It was too much to process back then. Your own grief and trauma was taking precedence, and you had to let Joel work through his emotions on his own. The weight of what happened was holding you down so intensely that you couldn't bring yourself to take on one more thing.

"Yeah, sure," you said, finishing up your food and digging around your pack for some fresh clothes and a small towel.

Joel did exactly as he said he would. He stood guard while you washed up, your backs to each other as you peeled off each piece of clothing and cleansed the skin underneath it, before putting fresh clothes over and moving on to the next area. You weren't comfortable being fully exposed, and he understood that. You never really were comfortable with it in the woods. But it still made his chest ache. Like something was stolen from you that day, and he missed it.

It wasn't until three days later that you found a small cabin. From the looks of it, Joel guessed it was part of the national parks department, a place for service rangers to rest or call for help when on patrol. It only had a bedroom, a half bathroom, a small seating area and a kitchen that looked more like a breakroom. But it was secluded, and it was safe, so Joel agreed to set up camp for a while.

He was pleased to find a fully stocked first aid kit, no doubt courtesy of the government, as well as a reasonable amount of dried goods and clean linens. There was one rifle locked in a cabinet which was easily broken into with his hunting knife, just in case he needed the spare weapon. He wasn't sure how long you would end up staying there. He didn't want to rush you, there was no point. Nothing was out there for you, anyway. But he always imagined finding you a house bigger than this.

As Joel was taking inventory of the goods, you walked around the small space. There was a huge map above the couch that you examined. It was a close up of the forests you were currently in. You trailed your finger down the map, looking at how far the two of you had walked in the past month. The hilly terrain made your accomplishment all the more impressive. Joel had been watching you out of the corner of his eye when you spoke.

"We're close to the Wyoming border," you said, your eyes lifting towards the top of the map, but the state in question was cut off. Joel cleared his throat.

"Yeah, I know. Hey, I was thinkin'," he began, flattening his hands on the kitchen counter, "What do you think 'bout headin' to Yellowstone? You ever been?" You shook your head.

"No, what's in Yellowstone?" You turned to him now. His chest ached at how tired you looked.

"Well, nothin' really. I was there once. With Tommy, when we were younger. It's lots of land, forests, hills. Figured it might be safe," at the word safe, his eyes turned down to look at the counter and his fingers brushed over the keychain in his pocket, unable to look you in the eye. "Lots of campgrounds, some real nice ones. Maybe we find someplace we can call home."

You don't know why you never considered the destination before now. You always imagined the pair of you would always be on the move, always looking for something that inevitably didn't exist. Joel had always been so adamant about having a goal: finding your parents, finding Tommy, finding a community. He had never suggested just stopping and living your lives together, alone.

"What about Tommy?" you asked him quietly. Ever since he mentioned finding his brother all those months ago, you knew it was a lost cause. He could be anywhere; he could be dead. In all likelihood, he probably was dead. But that wasn't for you to decide. Joel needed to come to that conclusion on his own. And it finally seemed like he did.

"I ain't gonna find Tommy, it was a dumb idea in the first place," he said, a fist clenching as he rapped his knuckles on the counter. "We need to find someplace before winter. I don't wanna be out in the snow like last year. I just-" he kept his eyes cast down and gave a small shrug, "I just wanna be with you."

You turned away as you felt the tears stinging the backs of your eyes. You knew he was trying, and you knew the way you pulled away from him hurt. You tried. You really did. But every time you hyped yourself up to touch him, to let him touch you, you felt the bile rising in the back of your throat. It wasn't fair, it didn't have anything to do with your feelings for him. But it was like your body just couldn't accept it, that you physically recoiled from the slightest touch, and you couldn't control it. Your mind wanted to reach out and comfort him, but your body kept you firmly planted on the worn wooden floors.

"That sounds nice," you told him, looking back at the map. His eyes shot up at your words, his eyebrows raised. Relief flooded through him, hearing that you liked his plan. Maybe one day, many years later, the two of you would find a community or other people to trust, but for now, it could just be the two of you.

"Alright, then," he said, straightening up. "In the meantime, let's stay here awhile. Wait for this heat to break. I figure we can make it to Yellowstone by October if we really push. Before the snow flies," he chewed his lip and glanced at his watch. There was enough daylight left to go gather some wood for a fire and maybe even shoot a rabbit, if he was lucky. But he didn't want to leave you alone.

"You wanna come with me, explore the area a bit?" he asked, trying to sound casual. But you knew what he was doing. He hadn't left you alone for a month. You didn't push back, you let him be protective. It was the least you could do if you couldn't bring yourself to open up to him. You nodded and leaned over to pull your pack back on.

"Sure," you said, slinging your bow over your back and followed him out the door, back into the summer heat.

The next few weeks were pretty much the same. The two of you scavenged for food in the mornings, before the heat became too oppressive and the animals hid. You spent your afternoons reading or napping while Joel skinned whatever animal you managed to kill that day and gathered wood and dead brush on the outskirts of the cabin, never straying far and finding excuses to come inside and check on you every so often. There was a small creek about a 10 minute walk south of the cabin where you would both go to fill up your canteens in the late afternoon and take turns bathing. Then he would start a fire to cook the meat while you prepared some instant potatoes, or rice, or anything else you found. Your dry and canned goods were starting to run low, so you used them sparingly. After you ate, you spent some time outside, soaking up the sun or reading. Joel would always stay close, sometimes walking a circuit around the cabin or reviewing some more detailed maps of the area left behind by the park rangers. At night, you shared the small bed, guiltily clinging to the edge of the mattress to create as much distance as possible, holding back your tears until he fell asleep.

It must have been the end of August by now. The days were hot, but the nights were cool, indicating fall was around the corner. You remembered Joel's plan to reach Yellowstone by October, so you knew your time at the cabin was coming to an end. You were fine with that. The cabin served its purpose. It kept you dry and safe so you could both rest your bodies before the month-long trek ahead of you. And with your food supplies dwindling, you knew it was time to move on. Joel didn't say anything, didn't want to push you into leaving, so you brought it up on your own, asking him when he thought you should head out. He seemed surprised that morning, expecting you to want to stay longer. He searched your eyes to make sure you weren't bringing it up because you felt he wanted to go, that you wanted to leave on your own volition.

"Why don't we plan on leavin' in a couple days?" he offered, and you nodded, finishing up your bowl of blackberries from a bush you had found not too far from the cabin.

"I was thinkin', I saw some deer at that creek few days ago. Maybe I can get us one and we can make some jerky. Should only take half a day to cook it. It'll give us somethin' til we find more food on the way," he glanced up to look at you. "You wanna come with me? Bring that bow of yours, it's quieter." He already knew the answer, but he always asked you, anyway. He wanted to give you the choice. If you ever said no, which was rare, he would just skip hunting and make do until the next day.

"Yep, sounds good," you said, getting up to rinse your bowl in the sink with the rest of the water from your canteen. "I need to refill these, anyway." You placed them both by the door and walked into the bedroom to change, closing the door behind you. Joel's eyes remained glued to the door as he tried to stifle his sadness. Any time he thought you were making progress, something happened to remind him how damaged you were. Something like closing the door to change in private made him rub his chest. You never would have bothered before. He was beginning to think he would never get back what he had with you. That those animals stole something from you, and he fucking let them. He swiped at the corner of his eye before he stood up and gathered his things. He was checking to make sure the rifle was loaded when you came out of the bedroom, slinging your bow over your shoulder, ready to go.

As you approached the creek, he held out a hand to his side to signify that you should be quiet and slow, watching your step to make sure you didn't potentially scare anything away. You got to the creek and didn't see anything, so you stooped down to refill your canteens, then followed Joel to a boulder not far down on the side of the creek, posting up to wait for any deer who might come to get a drink on the warm summer day.

You sat in silence, watching the sun move above the trees and the sunlight dappling the forest floor. Joel kept his head turned towards the creek, but you stared directly ahead into the forest, lost in thought. You nearly jumped when Joel cleared his throat as quietly as he could, not wanting to touch you, to get your attention. You looked and saw a doe about 15 yards away, standing in front of the creek, flicking her ears and glancing around hesitantly before bringing her head down to the cool water. You handed Joel your bow and he took it without looking, eyes fixed on the deer, as he leaned forward on one knee and loaded an arrow, drawing back. You saw a flutter of movement in a bush next to the doe and let out a soft gasp as you watched a baby fawn stumble out from the thicket, legs still shaky.

You reached your hand out and placed it on Joel's shoulder, stopping him from shooting. He didn't realize he was so touched starved until the contact nearly made him fall over. Keeping his fingers on the arrow, he disengaged the string slowly, letting his arms fall to his sides. He sat back next to you, taking the pressure off his knee and tried not to chase after your touch when you let your hand drop. You both sat and watched the deer together, as the new life stumbled forward to hide under its mother while she continued to drink. It started as a single tear, and then before you knew it your cheeks were damp from the steady flow as you silently cried. Joel turned his head to look for your reaction when the fawn tucked its long legs underneath its body to rest against the doe, only then noticing your tears.

"You alright?" He whispered, face etched with concern and his fists clenching at his side to keep from reaching out to you. You just shook your head and buried your face in your open palms as a shaky sob erupted from your throat. You rocked back and forth, your face still hidden in your hands, while Joel struggled with how to help, his arms reaching out, hovering in the air, and bringing them back. Then, to his surprise, you dropped your hands and lunged yourself forward into his chest, your face pressed against his tanned neck and your arms wrapped around his torso as your body shook. He immediately pinned you to him, his arms holding you as tight as he dared, his cheek resting on the top of your head. He slid a hand up from your back to cradle your head, your tears running down his neck and chest. He leaned back against the boulder, pulling you with him. You clutched the front of his flannel in your fist, your face still streaming with tears, wailing against his chest while he rocked you back and forth. His eyes were burning with the tears he refused to release, desperately trying to be strong for you.

"I got you, sweetheart, I got you," he murmured in your hair.

"I'm so sorry, Joel," you cried, burying your face further into his neck as fresh sobs wracked your body. He shook his head fiercely back and forth, even though you couldn't see him, and two tears made their way down his face.

"Don't you dare apologize, you did nothin' wrong, you hear me?" he choked out, more tears flowing now. He swallowed roughly as he dragged in a shaky breath. "I'm the one who's sorry, it's all my fault. I shoulda listened to you, you told me so many fuckin' times and I ignored you. I swear, I'm never gonna forgive myself." He squeezed his eyes shut and held you tighter against him.

"It's not your fault, it's their fault," you said, wiping your nose on the back of your hand. "You were just trying to keep us safe; you didn't know."

He bit the inside of his cheek, overwhelmed with your kindness, to not place the blame on him. He would still blame himself, but it eased his mind to hear you say it anyway. He held you against him until your cries turned to sniffles. Then your fist relaxed, releasing his flannel from your grasp, and ran your hand under the collar of his shirt to rest your palm against his bare shoulder, his skin hot under your touch. He felt a shiver go down his spine, even under the warmth of the sun.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, but the sun had shifted to where it was blinding you through the leaves of the trees, so you removed your hand from inside his shirt and lifted your head up to look at him. His eyes were closed, and his cheeks were dried with tears as you watched the sun dance over his face. You took in his features like you were seeing them for the first time. The small wrinkles next to his closed eyes, his angular nose, his patchy beard that needed to be trimmed, and lastly you let your eyes settle on his parted lips.

You glanced back up to confirm his eyes were still shut. You knew he wasn't sleeping because you felt him mindlessly rubbing a hand across your back. You took a shaky breath and leaned forward, gently pressing your lips against his. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but his eyes remained closed as he reciprocated your kiss, letting you set the pace. You brought a hand up to cup his cheek, pulling back a moment before gingerly pushing your lips back against his once more. You sighed as you broke away, resting your foreheads together.

"What can I do?" he asked you, "I need to do somethin'. I wanna help you."

"There is one thing," you told him, leaning back so you could look at him, your fingers intertwining with his on his lap. He sat up straighter, giving you his full attention.

"Name it, I'll do anythin'," he said earnestly.

"Find me a home, Joel," your fingers gently traced over his as you stared into his deep, brown eyes. "I want a new life. I just want to be with you."

He smiled when he heard you echo his words back to him and reached a hand out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"You got it, sweetheart."

That night, Joel gave you your space as usual in the small bed. He was on the verge of sleep when he felt your hand spreading over his chest and your face nestling in his shoulder. His heart hammered in his chest so hard, you could probably feel it. He wasn't sure if you would ever be the same again, or if your relationship would ever be the same, but he was ok with that. If you found a shred of peace by his side, then he would stay right there until his dying day.

September 2004

You had been traveling for almost three weeks, the crisp fall air biting at your cheeks. You weren't exactly sure what the date was anymore, but you had to guess it was the end of September by now, based on how early it got dark and the leaves piling up on the ground. You were in a very small town called Daniel, Wyoming. You walked down Main Street with Joel, eyeing up the buildings. It was quiet, most likely abandoned, and you hadn't heard any indication of infected nearby, so you held your bow loosely at your side as you read the signs outside the buildings. You both zeroed in on a trading store next to the post office, hoping it wasn't picked over and you could restock some of your supplies. You had gotten lucky over the past few weeks, killing rabbits and squirrels as your primary source of food and finding a few cans or dry goods here and there. The journey hadn't been too bad, but Joel was eager to get to Yellowstone and find you a home. He wanted to have enough time to stock up the cabin or house you picked with supplies before it got too cold.

Joel confirmed the store was clear and ushered you inside. It was warm, and you welcomed the break from the wind. Joel went to the clothing section to look over winter clothes and accessories you would need while you went to see what food was left behind. You were stuffing your backpack full of any food you could fit when your eyes landed on a red can. You flicked your gaze back to Joel, who was engrossed with picking out a flannel that looked exactly like the one he was wearing, but newer. You reached back onto the shelf and pulled out two cans of Beefaroni, shoving them deep down in your pack so he wouldn't see them.

As you were finishing up, Joel walked up behind you holding up a few long sleeve women's thermal tops.

"Whaddya think?" he asked, holding them up. You nodded, taking all three from his hands and then glanced down at your overfilled pack.

"Can you carry them for me? Mine's full." You held them back out to him, and he carefully folded them up and put them in his backpack. He jutted his chin towards your pack.

"Find anything good?" he asked as he shouldered his bag and picked up his rifle.

"Yep," was all you said, but he caught the corner of your mouth turn up right before you bent over to pick up your things. He looked at you curiously with his eyebrows pinched, a small smile playing on his lips. "What?" you asked him innocently.

"Nothin'," he said, turning back around to survey the store. "Do we need anythin' else before we head out? We got a few more hours of daylight, I'd like to make the most of it."

"I think we should be good til we get there," you told him, following him out of the store. "What did you think, another week or so?"

"Yeah, give or take. It's a big park, there's lots of areas to explore. Once we get there, we can take our time pickin' a spot, settle in, and stock up for the winter." He opened his map as you made your way down the street. "I reckon we can follow the 191 the whole way," he pointed down the street where you could see a T in the road. "That should be it right there."

You walked until the sun began to dip below the trees. Joel was building a fire and grumbling about shorter days and less time to cover ground while you were rolling out your sleeping bags. He picked up his rifle and stood to head out into the woods. You noticed ever since your breakthrough with him, he was feeling more confident about leaving you alone, as long as you were comfortable with it. And he always asked. Every time. Today was no exception.

"I'll go out and see if I can find us a rabbit or somethin', they'll probably be out now that it's dusk. You wanna come with or do you wanna hang back?" He had his rifle slung over his shoulder and he looked down at you with warmth in his eyes. It was funny, it's only been a year, but if your coworkers saw him how he was now, they would never believe it. But you knew he reserved this side of himself just for you. You remember seeing his darker side before, most prominently when he confronted Keith after your assault. At the time, it scared you how quickly he was able to flip that switch. But now you understood there was nothing to fear when it came to him. At least, you didn't have anything to fear.

"Why don't you skip hunting today, I have a surprise for you," you said, the corners of your mouth turning up into a smile. You were slowly starting to smile more again, and every single time it made him grin. He immediately slid his rifle off his shoulder and laid it on the ground, sitting down on top of his sleeping bag next to you.

"Well, how could I say 'no' to that," he teased. He dusted his hands on the sides of his jeans and looked at you expectantly. You turned to rummage in your pack, taking you a minute to find the cans you shoved all the way to the bottom. You pulled them out and hid them behind your back.

"Pick a hand," you said, and his eyes bounced back and forth between your shoulders as he decided, the light from the fire making them sparkle. Finally, he reached out and pointed to your right hand. He was still very careful about touching you, only ever doing so after you’d initiated contact. You took your hand out from behind your back and handed him the can of Beefaroni.

"Happy Birthday," you said as his face shone with excitement, his eyebrows raised high, and his jaw hung open. He reached out and cradled it like it was gold before looking back up to you.

"How do you know if it's my birthday?" he asked, and you shrugged.

"I guessed. It's gotta be around now, right? Do you like it?" You looked at him eagerly as he turned the can over in his hands.

"Well, that depends. What's in the other hand?"

You immediately brought your left hand around to hand him the second can, and he jokingly clutched his chest and fell backwards, his hand catching himself at the last minute, then pushed himself back up. You giggled, and his eyes shot up to yours, trying to hide his shock. That was definitely the first time you laughed since your assault. Warmth spread across his chest at the sound, and he looked down at the two cans in his hand.

"I never got you anythin' for your birthday," he said, still looking down with a smile. You waved him off.

"You're getting me a home, that's all I want," you told him, scrounging in your bag to find a can of chicken you tucked away for yourself.

You ate in front of the fire in a comfortable silence, watching the fireflies and listening to the insects chirp around you. He finished his can and set it down by the fire, leaning back a bit to fish the keychain out of his pocket.

"Beefaroni was a great gift, sweetheart, but this one is still hard to top," and he dangled the keychain in front of you. You were about to take a bite of food when your hand froze in midair. You looked from the keychain, to Joel, then back again before putting the fork down.

"Can I see?" you asked, and he placed the keychain in your palm. You could tell the chrome edge was worn from being rubbed in his pocket, but the Texas flag was still just as bright. You handed it back to him with a smile.

"I keep forgetting you have that," you admitted, your fingers fidgeting in your lap. He tucked it back into his pocket.

"I always got it on me," he told you. You looked at each other in the glow of the fire until you bit your lip and looked away. Joel never pressured you to be physical after your assault. He didn't even flirt the way he used to. The best he would do was tease you a little. He left all of that up to you, and he was incredibly patient. You only kissed him twice since that afternoon in the forest, and they were both very brief. Even then, he never attempted to deepen the kiss, giving you complete control. You wanted that part of your relationship back, but you were scared what it would be like, or if you were ready.

You looked back over at him. He was staring into the fire now, his legs stretched out and leaning back on his hands. You swallowed, then inched over to him, tucking your head into his shoulder. He shifted so his weight was all on one hand, and he picked up the other to wrap around your hips, his palm flat against the top of your thigh. You turned your face up to look at his, and when he glanced down back at you, you leaned up to press your lips against his mouth. He kept his hands where they were and gently massaged his lips on yours, still not looking to take anything further. Your heart swelled at his patience and restraint, overwhelmed by his sweetness. Before you had a chance to overthink it, you delicately licked at his lips, wanting to deepen the kiss. You felt his hesitation before gently opening his lips, letting you be the one to explore. You nervously ran your tongue up and down his, moving much slower than either of you ever had in the past. All of your memories came flooding back of better times, and you realized just how much you missed being this close to him. You applied more pressure as his hand came up to cradle your face, stroking his thumb over your cheek as you swirled your tongue around his with more confidence. His hand was getting sore holding himself up, so he cupped your jaw with both hands while he eased himself back. He was lying flat on the ground now with you next to him, your upper body resting on top of his chest, your tongue never leaving his mouth.  You felt the heat from the fire on your back as you pulled back to catch your breath, leaving a slow trail of kisses along his jaw. His fingers gently raked up and down your back, his adrenaline catching up with him now. He was trying so hard to hold back, to let you take it as far as you wanted. His eyes fluttered closed as you peppered kisses down his throat. You were finding it difficult to reach his neck from your angle, so without thinking, you swung your leg over his hips, your mouth continuing its trail.

You should have gone slower, you should have thought it through more. The way you were situated on him now left your core directly over his growing erection. You didn't even realize it until you shifted your weight back on your hips, pressing yourself on him and feeling his hardening cock, and he groaned softly. Your mind didn't even catch up with your body before you found yourself scrambling backwards off his lap, back to the safety of your sleeping bag. He sat up with a jolt, his eyes filled with concern.

"What'd I do?" he asked, looking you over as if he could find something physically wrong. You shook your head, trying to rid your mind of the man who forcibly pressed your hand against his erection, rubbing your wrist subconsciously. Your chest felt tight as you gasped for air. You rubbed the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling.

"Nothing, you didn't do anything," you gasped. "It was me. I thought I was ready, I thought... I'm so sorry, Joel." Your face crumpled, tucking your knees into your chest. You tried to hide your face in your shoulder, but he reached out and hooked a finger under your chin, dragging your eyes up to meet his.

"You got nothin' to be sorry for, it's ok," he said softly, and you sniffled. "Don't cry, I promise it's ok," his thumb wiped a tear from your cheek as he gazed down at you. Your breathing was returning to normal, and your chest felt looser. You sighed and leaned into his touch.

"Why don't we get some sleep?" He asked, trying to change the subject. "I wanna take advantage of as much daylight as possible. Sooner we get there, the better, yeah?" You nodded and rubbed your nose on the back of your hand.

You waited until he got settled in his sleeping bag before tentatively reaching an arm over to drape across his chest. His eyes were closed but you saw him smile, and his hand came up to hold yours, bringing it up to his lips to plant a kiss on the inside of your wrist.

"You alright?" he whispered, turning his head to look at you now. You nodded.

"I will be," you said.

Over the next two days, Joel had you up at the crack of dawn to get started on your journey. The days were getting chillier, but the sun provided some warmth as you moved through the mountains. You were taking a small break, sitting on a guardrail eating while Joel examined his worn-out map, his eyes squinting at the paper. You poked him in the shoulder, startling him.

“You need glasses, old man?” you teased, and he couldn’t keep the smirk from his face. He shook his head at you before focusing back down on the map.

“I’m 37, not 77,” he muttered. You smiled as you looked up and down the highway, seeing nothing but a few abandoned cars, but then some rustling in the trees lining the road grabbed your attention. Joel held out his hand for your bow, hoping to snag a rabbit. You pressed it into his hand, and he grabbed an arrow from your backpack, loading it up and taking aim at the dense forest, waiting for the animal to show itself. But the animal that appeared was far bigger than a rabbit.

You blinked rapidly a few times, unable to process seeing a horse standing just 20 feet in front of you. Then, four more horses appeared through the trees, standing and staring at you. You assumed because you hadn’t seen a horse in so long that it took you an extra minute to realize there were riders on their backs. The people had their faces partially covered with bandanas and had their guns aimed directly at you.

“Drop the bow,” a woman’s voice said, taking you by surprise. You weren’t sure you’ve ever seen a female raider before.

Joel lowered the bow carefully, never taking his eyes off the woman in front who was clearly their leader. With the bow no longer obscuring his face, he held his hands up and jutted his chin out, sidestepping so he could block you with his body.

“Whaddya want?” he asked her roughly, his scowl returning. Before she could respond, another voice piped up from beside her.

“Joel?!”

His eyes swung to the man on the horse next to the woman as he yanked his bandana down, revealing his face for the first time. You gasped, then you both spoke in unison.

“Tommy?”

Chapter Eighteen

Tag list: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby

[eashmo]

"It wasn't the books that kept me in the library" 18+

Bully billy x nerd y/n, "enemies" to lovers, short story

Warnings: SMUT, some fluff.

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

Y/n is such a fucking tease, it doesn't help she has the most delicious looking lips. They look Soft. I bet They Would feel great wrapped around my cock. She would look so good kneeling in front of me looking up with her big E/C eyes behind those thick nerd glasses, her soft H/C hair all messed up because I would be pulling on the strands. She is innocent and I want to destroy that. 

Her too short schoolgirl skirt under a tight white low-cut blouse that hugs her boobs just right. made me want to moan out loud. Every time she drops something at her locker, it's like she knew I was watching. Each time I see her lacey panties, I have to control my primal urge to take her right in the hallway. Her ass would look good with my hands griped into each cheek as i fucked her, She's so sexy. And she doesn't even know it. 

Her nimble fingers grazed the spines of the library books as she was trying to find what she was looking for. Her fingers would look so small against my cock.  

If I'm honest, she was the only thing that kept me going to the school library. 

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. It was like I was becoming obsessed with her. She was struggling to get a book from the top shelf when she heard me chuckle. She thought I was laughing at her. That's when she turned to look at me. fuck, those delicous lips, were directed at me. Those beautiful lips were making sounds, beautiful sounds that sounds like moans she would give me if i fucked her. 

“Hargrove, instead of making fun of me like you always do, help for once would be nice.” she whispered

“Hargrove!” she whispered louder.

“Hmm, yes, darlin?” I snapped out of my daze.

“don,t call me darlin and help me" she whined, oh fuck me that noise was heavenly. "Why the fuck are you just staring at me for?” she snapped.

Coughs “I'm not staring at you. Why would I stare at someone like you?” I quickly said as I came up behind her to grab the book for her. 

"Here nerd, don't expect me to be nice to you now,"  as she turned to face me. She scoffs, "I'm surprised you help right now, to be honest."  She grabs the book from my book from my hand. 

 I stare at her cleavage through the opening of her thin blouse as she picks up her bookbag and puts the book inside. “You're staring again” The lunch bell rang. everybody was now gone. 

“What, do you want Billy?” Hearing my first name fall from those lips made my knees weak.

“You princess” I breathed.

”What?” she laughed. 

“I want you” 

She scoffs, “I think i'll pass hargrove, i don't know where you have been.” her eyes flicked to my crotch back to my eyes.

“Oh come on, princess, i'm not that much of a playboy as you may think”

“I don't want to be just another girl, Billy. i've seen how you hurt girls, never wanting to commit” I tried to listen to her, but she was just too sexy. I was looking at her lips this whole time, but I did try to listen. her lips are just super distracting.

“Billy, are you even listening?”

“Yeah yeah princess.”

“You're unbelievable.” she scoffs, she starts to walk away from me. I caught up to her, spun her around, and backed her into a bookshelf. 

“Where do you think you're going?” I whispered into her ear, I heard her gasping from my warm breath hitting her ear. 

“billy…” she started to push me back, but I stood my ground. 

“God I want you so bad. You drive me crazy without even realizing it, babygirl. I'm obsessed with you.” I moved closer to her. 

Her big doe eyes widened, and she stopped pushing “Yeah?” she asked, her body was now pressed against mine, Her breasts were squashed against my hard chest. I swallowed hard. 

“I never knew you could get so flustered.” she teased. I suddenly leaned forward and pushed my head into the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. I gave a solid lick across the sweet spot on her neck. Earning me a surprised moan. I put my hands on her thick ass causing her skirt to ride up a little. I feel how soft her skin is. It's driving me crazy. I could do this all day.

"Billy…" she said as she tried to hide her moans. Which caused me to growl and bite down on her neck, causing her to moan loudly. Perfect. It's sounded absolutely perfect. 

She whimpered as I traveled my lips up her neck to taste those lips that I've been dying to Devour ever since I first saw her in this hell hole of a town. I pulled her closer. If it was even possible, I wanted to melt into her. I lifted her up, her legs wrapped around my waist, she grinded her hips into mine. She moaned loudly at the friction of my jeans on her soaked panty covered pussy. Pressing her deeper against the bookcase. 

“You know,” I whispered into her ear, “if I didn’t know any better I’d say you wanted to be caught.” 

 she  let out a low groan in response, i chuckled and pecked her cheek before i let her down from my waist, she pressed her forehead against mine, looking deep into her eyes as i dipped a hand into her panties. 

“Fuck you are so wet babygirl” i groaned out.

“B-billy please…”

“Please what princess?”

“T-touch me” one finger then another entered into her dripping pussy, smirking as her e/c eyes rolled back in her head and she let out a long low moan which was muffled by my lips on hers. pushing my tongue into her mouth, feeling her groan into the kiss as i continued to finger fuck her.

 With my free hand i unbuttoned her white blouse quickly and pulled her bra down under her tits exposing breasts capped with light pink, rock hard nipples which i began to squeeze and roll it between my fingers, grinning as she moans and groans which turned into pants of desperation and pleading whines.

 I slowed my finger’s slightly. “I’m going to need you to keep quiet. Can you do that, princess?” I whispered. She nodded in response, clamping her mouth shut with a hand. 

“Good girl”  i chuckled

she rode my finger to chase her own high, i added in a third, which sent her to her first orgasim her muffled moans made me weak. She soon relaxed as she slowly came back to earth. I stared at her blissed out state mentally capturing that image of her forever as I undid my fly and took out my cock. I slowly pulled my fingers out of her, which made her whimper. Lifting her back up her legs found themselves back where they belonged. 

“I can always feel your stare, you know…. Throughout the day…. It always made me feel seen and worth it for once” she breathed heavily. 

“I’ve always seen you, baby girl, and you're definitely worth it,”  

“Then why bully me?”

 “It was the only way to get you to talk to me, you didn't seem fazed when I moved here like the other girls and it drove me nuts, I had to have you even more.” I admit as I rub the tip of my cock teased her clothed entrance.

“Billy please be gentle. It's my first time”

“As you wish princess” I groaned at the thought of taking her virginity. She is so pure and innocent. I pushed the lacey fabric to the side. I tried to push my head in but her pussy can only take the tip.

“Relax princess” I try again to push the tip in and out slowly, watching her turning into a moaning mess.

Before long I could fit most of my cock in. her ridged inside squeezed my cock so deliciously. Feeling every squeeze every time I went in. I bottomed out inside of her. I felt her hymen break when I did, she hissed in pain. I stood there waiting for permission.

“B-Billy m-move” she gritted her teeth through the pain. I slowly thrusted in her, getting used to the feeling. She didn't take long to wanting more. 

“Harder billy” she moaned in my neck as she held on to me for dear life. As I railed her on the bookshelf.

 I didn't let up, pounding her so hard while rubbing her clit. Only after a minute or two, she came on my cock with a tantalizing scream that echoed through the empty library. Her legs squeezed my waist tightly, now I imagine that if that was my head being squeezed by her delicious thick thighs as ate her out . The thought that made me instantly come to her, coating every inch of her insides. After I came, I realized I hadn't worn a condom. 

“shit“

“What?” she asked with a worried look, expecting me to regret my actions. 

“I forgot to wear a condom….”

 “It's fine, I'm on the pill anyways, I can’t believe we just did that.” She giggled.

 I chuckled. “How about I take you on a date to the fair tonight?”

“You don't do dates, Hargrove”

“I told you…. You're worth it.” 

 She blushed as she nodded yes. I stepped back slightly, admiring her, her tits and midriff exposed, pussy still dripping and skirt hiked up.

 “You look extra beautiful like this”

 “Shut up.” she laughed, rearranging her clothes into some semblance of decency before looking at her watch.

 “We should probably go.”

 “Yeah, you’re right.” I agreed. We walked out the empty library hand in hand, parting ways at the library door. I gave her a quick kiss.

“I'll see you tonight, baby girl”  

Masterlist

2023

[ell-alexanderarnold]

Card games and heart games

Summary: After years together you find Trent lacking love and affection, countless arguments over and over again leads to you deciding to leave him thinking it will be easy…

Warnings: Cursing, Toxic relationship, Toxic Trent, Toxic Reader, sad Trent (Let me know if I missed anything)

Angst

Note: This may be a little bit darker than my other angst idk but I’m really proud of dis, please share your thoughts and feedback ❤️‍🩹

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“Why you so damn hard to talk to?” You asked him as you two just came home from a night out, which was ending exactly how you thought it would.

“Can we talk about this in the morning Y/n, please” Trent sighed and took off his shirt, exposing his broad shoulders and your eyes catches his tanned abs.

“No not this shit talk in the morning if we’re gonna talk we’re doing it now” You debated, clearly pissed off and annoyed by him.

“Save it for another day, goodnight Y/n” He simply ended, making you feel weak in the argument.

Trent went to bed and you down the stairs to sit outside by the garden.

You sit there for a while, debating with your thoughts wondering how it even got like this. It used to be easy until Trent became more cold to you and you took your distance from him. If you ever missed each other you never told it, you two would show it through sex or making one jealous by being out more or getting more handsy with a stranger in the club. And it has been going for months if you’re being honest with yourself. The point where you realised was earlier this week, when Trent was gaming.

…

Trent’s been avoiding you all day because of the arguments that keep on going, you hear him shouting at his mates that he’s been playing video games with all day. He doesn’t even realise how late it is or how loud he has been, he only tries to shout everything out.

You knock at the door and opens it slowly, you figured that he’s no longer talking to his friends and decides to pull his headset off. You sit down at his lap whilst he’s eyes are glued to the screen.

“Thinking of taking a break anytime soon?” You inquired as he moved his head when you blocked his sight.

“Hello” You went on, no answer from Trent.

“Fuck! Y/n can’t you see I’m busy” He snapped, throwing his controller against the screen and you flinched, surprised by his actions.

“Trent calm down!” You growled and got up from his lap quick and grabbed his hand to get him out of the room that he’s been in all day.

“Get off me Y/n” He spoke and you dragged him to your shared bedroom.

You both sat down at the edge of the bed, you could see his face frustrated and you took his hand which he declined.

“Trent?” You questioned.

“I need to be by myself Y/n, just go” He mumbled and you could feel your whole body sank at his words. He didn’t want to take your hand nor be with you. You’d understand if it was because of the argument but you only wanted to comfort him.

…

You left the room that night not knowing that would be the reason why you two are still fighting. You are still hurt, he rejected you and to be rejected by your lover was one of the things that hurt you the most. You’ve only experienced it now and in the beginning of your relationship, when things were going slow. But eventually you got closer and Trent became more comfortable and open with you.

You wanted nothing but to go upstairs to him and cuddle him till he couldn’t breathe but you knew that was something that you could only fantasise about. Because in the reality it is not like that, in reality it’s a warm loving relationship that turned into a cold love towards one another. You wanted to fix it, you would do anything. Anything for it to be like it once was.

It started to get cold and you decided to go back inside, unsure if you’d even want to sleep in the same bed as him.

You eventually walks up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. You can hear Trent’s heavy breathing as you lay down in the bed. His breathing is like a lullaby, almost sending you to sleep until you hear a voice spoke up.

“Have I told you lately that I love you” Trent somnolently spoke and crawled up closer to you, you could feel his warmth against your skin.

“Trent it’s late, but no I guess not.” You whispered and felt his arms around you, which was a rare touch to you nowadays.

“I love you” He says.

”I know” You respond.

“How do you know?”

“I can see it, now go back to sleep my boy” You implied, falling asleep after hearing no response from your lover next to you.

Waking up to Trent next to you always feels like a dream…or it used to feel like a dream. Now you don’t know what’s this day is going to bring. A day where you can be happy with him? A day filled with small arguments? You could expect anything really.

The Saturdays usually looks the same for you every week. Trent leaves for training early and you stay in bed for a while after waking up.

You go downstairs and fill up the kettle with water for your tea. It was sunny outside so you sat down and enjoyed the morning sun whilst Prince and Koba played in the garden. The dogs attention are immediately turned to the sound of the door opening, Trent is home.

You went inside with your finished breakfast and left it by the kitchen, Trent approached you.

“You went out with the dogs?” He asked you.

“First of all good morning” You greeted as he rolled his eyes.

“Yes I did. I made some tea, want some?”

“Nope, I just want you” He teased and you turned around to face him, smiling.

You didn’t know how he could give you so much pleasure and cause you so much pain at the same time. Loving him makes you so confused sometimes, he has good sides and bad sides and you know both of them.

“Hmm, then I have nothing to give you” You shrugged and walked to close the door to the garden. Trent stood still, training kit still on and you figured that he was going to shower.

-

You wanted to step outside of the house today so you got ready to go out for shopping alone. It was nice to get some alone time but you feel like that just adds on to that you’ve been alone lately. Because of Trent’s actions and words you’ve taken your distance and he could see that. He could notice when you’re around him that you prefer not to be. If he joins you when you’re in the sofa watching tv, you get up and leave after a few minutes. It did hurt him, but you couldn’t be around him when there’s been a big fight. Just to look into his eyes would disturb you. And when you find his eyes, something dies each time. It could be a certain memory or your love to him. Too keep falling in and out of love with him was something you never thought you’d do.

But it’s Trent. Trent could always make you fall in love with him over and over again. You hated that his love was so powerful and pure that he could win you over so easily. You sure loved it too but it was like you couldn’t pull yourself out of it.

You came home around 3pm and went upstairs to drop off the bags in your closet. You took off your makeup as well and changed into your silk pyjamas. It didn’t took long until you heard Trent shout your name from downstairs.

“Yes?” You shout back and stopped what you were doing to hear him properly.

“Can you come down for a second” He shouted as you got out from the closet, down to the living room where he sat.

“Come here” He indicated and you sat down beside him, not too close to him as you usually are.

“I want to apologise for last night” He began and fidgeted with his hands.

“It’s fine” You simply answered and shrugged your shoulders, he read your response and perceived it that you were still angry.

“Are you still angry?” He pushed as you rubbed your eyes, showing that you were tired and didn’t want to fight.

“I said it’s fine Trent” You declared.

“I can read you” He murmured.

“No you can’t fucking read me.” You snapped and met his brown eyes.

“I don’t want to fight, please Y/n” Trent sighed.

“Same here” You wearily responded and Trent moved closer to you. The both of you didn’t say anything to each other, you rested you head on his shoulder and sighed because of the situation.

“It feels like I’ve forgotten to be your lover” Trent revealed and drawn small circles on your thigh with his gentle fingers. You hummed in response, taking in what he just said.

The fact that he admitted that he had not shown you his love lately made you sad. And eventually you felt more alone on his shoulder, one small tear escaping from the corner of your eye.

”You have never look at me the way you looked at that girl last night” You cried.

“Y/n”

“I just stood there watching, do you know how much it hurt Trent” You mumbled.

“I never meant to hurt you baby” Trent said.

“Stop saying that, it makes you sound like an asshole” You scoffed and got up from the sofa with Trent slowly trailing after you.

“You can’t say that when you were doing the exact same thing” Trent defended but you didn’t buy it. You would never get intimate with somebody else in the club but Trent. But when he does it, it’s okay.

“Trent you’ve done it multiple times over the years whilst I’ve done it maybe twice” You debated and now you both were in your shared bedroom.

“It won’t happen again Y/n for fuck’s sake I’ve apologised and said sorry” He fumed and you didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. Your head was in your hands as you sat down on the bed, trying to come to your senses.

-

You were preparing to go to bed, tired and exhausted from fighting with Trent for hours. Your eyes were red from all the crying, all you wanted was to sleep and wake up in the morning hoping that everything will be as it was before the cracks. You understand that isn’t possible and probably will never be.

You lay down in the bed as far away as you can get from Trent. You both couldn’t stand the sight of each other, you even felt that you can’t sleep in the same bed as him. Something just doesn’t feel right.

When Trent’s fallen asleep you get up quickly from the bed and sneak out of the room, hoping that he wouldn’t hear you. But of course he did.

“The fuck, where are you going” Trent wondered as you stood in the hallway, ready to leave.

“I’m sorry but I can’t stay here anymore Trent.” You prompted and Trent’s eyes widened.

“You’re being cruel Y/n” He said with his head faced down.

You thought that he isn’t worth all the tears you’ve been crying and that now after all these years he’s only out to break your heart.

You were taking on your jacket, crying at the same time as Trent stood there watching you. He couldn’t force himself to do anything, he couldn’t process that you were actually leaving him. He knew you couldn’t do it but he also knew that if it would happen at some point, you’ll come running back to him despite his doings.

“You know you’ll need me Y/n” Trent stated as you opened the front door.

“That’s bullshit” You answered and sniffed, walked out to your car.

“You’re saying our love is bullshit now?” Trent exclaimed and his voice cracked.

“Yes I am” You replied and stood by your car waiting for the fight to come to an end, it felt like it would go on forever until Trent’s dark words from his dark mind left his mouth.

“Go fuck yourself” He scoffed and cried.

“Fuck you!” You mocked and Trent turned around to get back inside.

You realised that you haven’t even packed your things which meant that you needed to get back in, the chaos was going to start again. You thought it was better with that than Trent inviting you to sit there silently in his sofa with nothing to say.

You walked back to the front door and opened it slowly, took your shoes off and then sneaked upstairs to get to the bedroom. Trent wasn’t there so you could take your time and collect all of the stuff you needed.

You could now hear Trent downstairs crying and groaning, it made your heart shatter even though it was you who caused it. You couldn’t stop the guilt that was going through your head, ending up with you going downstairs to him.

He must’ve not noticed when you walked back in and was surprised that you were still there.

“Is this about tonight?” You asked him as you sat down and watched him cry.

“What do you think” He whispered.

“You’re too needy Trent.”

“I thought we were done fighting” Trent said as he laid down in the sofa, drying his tears.

“This isn’t a fight Trent, don’t be so sensitive” You mumbled.

“I’ve been trying so hard, you know” Trent revealed and sighed.

“I know baby” You sniffled and moved closer to him, laying your head on his chest. You missed the feeling of loving him so much that you couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like if you suddenly one day stopped loving him. Laying on top of him hearing his breathing, comforted you.

“Please Y/n stay with me, you know I can’t cope without you” Trent said and pecked your head.

”The way it is now I can’t promise anything, I just don’t want you to take me for granted”

“I don’t” He cut you off.

“Yes but you have been lately” You continued as Trent leans in to kiss you.

“I’m sorry my Y/n, I love you” Trent spoke between kisses.

The kiss was passionate and it was emotional as well. After everything, every little fight, every flaw, there’s always that spark that comes and goes that makes it impossible to leave him. No matter how much you want or try to leave him, go and live another life without him, you’ll always end up in his arms…

[dontexpectmuch]

hey!! can you write a part 2 of the clingy y/n breakup? but from jude’s pov, where he doesn’t like it at first, missed her and sees her move on etc…thank you!!

jude‘s point of view

jude sat on his couch, opening and closing his messages over and over again, in hopes to have your message pop up. he couldn’t explain why, but he woke up with the feeling that today would finally be the day where you two would meet again. or at least talk. or at least acknowledge the other. just something to help soothe that aching in his heart.

“i don’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore.”, as those words left his lips, jude could feel the weight lift off his shoulders, like he had been carrying something so heavy that it hindered him from taking deep breaths.

his eyes looked at your hurt expression, your lips pulled to a straight line as you tried your best to keep calm, all while jude knew that he had broken your heart apart. he watched you as you listened how he ripped the u from the s, how he mercilessly crushed all the hopes you had for the relationship. and in that moment, jude didn’t feel any regret.

was he a bad person? he sat there, in front of you, somewhat eager to end the relationship, eager to gain new experience, to be free.

looking back, all he could do now was to scoff, shaking his head at his absurd way of thinking. free? he wanted to be free? the only time he felt free was when he was next to you, the one who gave him the wings to fly as high as he wanted. he may have not regretted it then, but he sure does now. maybe he should call you, or maybe he should just go to your flat. last time he checked, which was yesterday if he was being honest, you still lived near that park. that one, where the two of you shared your first kiss.

it was cold, the cold air pinched your cheeks as you walked next to jude, his arm lightly brushing against yours.

“it’s cold.” you said, coming to a halt while looking at the frozen lake in front of you. jude followed suit, standing close to your body, looking at your face.

“want me to warm you up?” he asked, teasingly.

confused, you turn your head to look at his, though you were met with a pair of cold lips on top of yours.

what a nice way to warm up, he thought.

“don’t call me in general, jude. leave me alone.” your voice came out weak, though it had enough strength to stab through his heart. you closed the door, finalizing your decision on not getting back together.

jude felt like screaming, he felt like punching something, taking out all the anger he held for himself.

stupid, stupid, stupid, how could he have been so stupid?

he went back home, once again laying on the couch as he went through your instagram account. on his fake account, he may add, since you had blocked his normal one. and with each post and story in your highlights passing, he felt sick.

you looked quite good, finally posting after months. your smile reached your eyes, your skin was glowing, just like back then when you were still a couple.

his daily check up was interrupted when he noticed a male hand on one of your posts, on the table in a café, maybe. there was a red heart on the corner of the picture.

a red fucking heart.

did you have a new man, was that the reason why you wouldn’t listen to him? didn’t you love him anymore? did you move on?

all these questions made jude pace around in the room, frustration growing inside of him.

but, in the end he knew. he was quite aware that everything is his fault, he didn’t habe the rights to complain. so, he suffered.

he regretted his every decision that lead to the break up.

——————————————

i am a married woman. this goes to her, come home the kids miss you.