#i think hes so clammy. physically

[plulp]

robin

[queers-gambit]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

browse the Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[teamatsumu]

do you? i do. (akaashi keiji x reader)

summary: you lose a bet, so now you have to confess to your crush. for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions.

word count: 1461

tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties @pinkiipeachiikeen @keiva1000 @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @kindnessspreads

event masterlist

Turns out, promising to do ‘anything you want’ wasn’t something Konoha Akinori took lightly. Especially not when you add Bokuto Koutaro to the mix. Konoha was a sly opportunist, while Bokuto wasn’t embarrassed by anything, so it was a deadly combination.

You didn’t know why you let yourself be talked into making a stupid, silly bet with the two boys. Konoha had a talent to goad, and he managed to successfully goad you. So when you lost the bet (really, why did you think having a physical competition with two volleyball players was a good idea), it was like Konoha had his winning prize ready. The request fell from his lips like he had been practicing it for days.

Which he probably had. The menace.

So here you were, hands shaking violently as you put away water bottles and towels, cleaning up the club room and taking all the time in the world to change back into your uniform. The other managers had offered to wait for you so you could walk home together, but you encouraged them to go on, saying you had some stuff to organize before you left so it would take time. You didn’t need them to stick around to see you horrifically embarrass yourself when you confessed your silly crush and got rejected. Already Konoha was making all the boys stay behind to witness the moment. You couldn’t bear to have your closest friends see it too.

You locked the club room behind yourself before slowly and painfully making your way to the gym. You could hear the thuds of volleyballs and squeaks of shoes as the boys noisily cleaned up. They were talking and laughing amongst themselves, and you felt your nerves tighten even more. This was the worst possible place and time to confess. The chances of public humiliation were sky high. But Konoha had made his demands clear. And you weren’t one to go back on your word, no matter how dire the consequences.

You smoothed your skirt when you reached the gym doors, standing in the doorway and watching the scene before you. Despite the net slowly being lowered, Bokuto was still bounding towards it.

“Akaashi, go again!”

The boy in question was already in position, setting the ball high towards Bokuto, who spiked it hard over the half-up net. Washio was yelling at them to stop and it was enough for the day.

You watched Akaashi wipe the sweat off his forehead and kneel to tie his shoe, breathing slightly labored from the exertion. Your feet remained frozen, eyeing him silently and dreading how your relationship with him was about to change forever. While Akaashi wasn’t someone who harbored ill feelings, you weren’t sure how he was going to react to a love confession and subsequent rejection. What guarantee did you have that this wouldn’t affect your friendship going forward?

“Oi, look who’s here!” Konoha’s voice was filled with glee, and all eyes turned to look at you when he pointed at the door. You fought the urge to roll your eyes and deck him across the face. Violence was not the answer.

“Do you have something to say?”

Okay, maybe violence was the answer.

You gave him a large, fake grin, before nodding jerkily. You could feel the edge of your face and your ears turn burning hot, hands already going clammy as you tried to clench and unclench them.

“Akaashi-san, may I talk to you in private?”

Akaashi seemed surprised, blinking twice before nodding and standing up to walk towards you. No one else was caught off guard, of course, grinning faces looking between you two, knowing what was about to happen. You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you wouldn’t have to do this in front of the entire volleyball team. But a bet was a bet. You had brought this upon yourself.

Whenever you had lain in bed and fantasized about confessing to Akaashi, you had pictured just you and him. Either outside the gym, or in the school grounds, nice cool air blowing through your clothes and hair. You had imagined how he would smile and return your feelings, which was a long shot but anything was possible in your imagination.

Akaashi was…. dignified. Organized. He was crazy smart, perceptive to a fault. It was almost impossible to not like him. Two years since you had started managing the Fukurodani team, and your crush on him had only grown. The more you learned about him, the more you liked him. And he was leagues above you in every sense.

That was the reason you had always believed Akaashi couldn’t return your feelings.

He stepped out behind you, following you only a few steps away from the gym doors. Konoha had explicitly said that you had to stay within earshot. A childish, immature request but part of the bet reward, so you couldn’t exactly refuse. You turned back to the boy, unable to meet his eyes and instead staring at your own hands as you fiddled with your fingers. You had rehearsed in your head over and over how you would take Akaashi’s rejection, what you would say, how would you tell him it wasn’t a big deal and you didn’t expect him to return your feelings. That you hoped you could still be friends. But now, standing before him, you realized you hadn’t really thought about the actual confession. You were completely blank.

“Is everything okay?” Akaashi’s voice was laced with concern, and he tilted his head a bit to catch your eye. You stared at him for a good minute before blinking and vigorously nodding.

“Yes! Completely fine. I’m fine.”

Embarrassment was already beginning to crawl up on you. There was a bout of silence. Behind Akaashi, you caught sight of multiple heads peeking through the window. You felt annoyance build up in you.

“Screw this,” you mumbled. “Akaashi-san, I like you. A lot. Not as a friend. And I was never going to tell you, but I lost a bet to Konoha and he thought this would be the perfect way to humiliate me. By making me confess. So….. here I am. I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

Akaashi watched you unblinkingly for a few moments. You glanced at Konoha who was scowling, probably because you name dropped him. But that wasn’t one of his conditions, so you didn’t care. You felt a twinge of satisfaction at having bested him even in your current circumstance. Good. He deserved to feel even a fraction of the anxiety and embarrassment you were feeling right now.

“Why would that humiliate you?” Akaashi finally spoke.

Your eyes met his dark ones, and you felt yourself freeze. Of all the questions you thought he would ask, this was not one you were prepared for.

“Uh-” You tried to come up with an answer that didn’t sound equally as embarrassing as the confession. Because you will reject me and they will all witness it?

Akaashi sighed and toed at the ground a bit, mouth pursed in thought. You stared at him wide eyed, waiting for him to speak. To say something. Follow up on his unusual question.

“This isn’t exactly how I imagined this moment to go.” He muttered, and you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t already looking at him. Your breath hitched, eyes so wide you were sure they would pop out of your skull. You tried to process the sentence, tried to think of any reason he would say that without getting your hopes up.

Akaashi peered around, as if searching for something, looking left and right before he finally caught the floating heads behind him. There was a yelp as they disappeared from the window suddenly, followed by thudding and a curse. You bit back your laughter. Akaashi rolled his eyes.

“I would like to talk about this more. Where others can’t see us.” His voice was as calm and quiet as ever. You felt your heart race. Your limbs felt jittery. Did this mean….?

“Akaashi-san, do you-”

A smile that made your heart leap. “I do.”

You felt a smile stretch over your face, feeling giddy at the thought of something you had considered so impossible materializing in front of your very eyes. You could still hear faint bickering from the gym, and you were sure Konoha had not seen this coming. Somehow, he was the least of your concerns now, in the face of Akaashi’s quiet smile and the way he was leaning towards you. You leaned forward too, realizing you had never been this close to him before. You basked in the moment.

In ten million years you could not have wished for a better outcome.

[rileyslibrary]

You have a few questions about Ghost’s mask and he has some answers. (platonic, self-indulgent banter)

———————————————————————

You sit side by side outside the medic’s office, waiting for your physical exams. You’ve both just returned from a mission, and it’s standard procedure for all personnel to undergo routine checks upon returning to the base. ‘It’s the protocol’, they said. Boring shit.

Adjusting your shirt, you recline on the chair, glancing at Ghost’s back. He’s slouching, elbows on his knees, fingers interlocked together. He turns to his left, looking at something you’re not interested in paying attention to right now.

He’s fascinating.

“Did you make it yourself?” You ask, nodding towards him.

He doesn’t hear you. That, or he pretends he doesn’t do so. You gently nudge his knee with yours to get his attention. He turns over his shoulder, his eyes locking with yours.

“The mask,” you say, pointing at him, then gesturing to your face, “did you make it yourself?”

He keeps staring at you, but not in the same way when he first turned towards you. It’s more ominous now, like a sign in the middle of the road warning you that there’s been an accident ahead. You don’t know what that accident entails, or what you will face if you get closer. Is it a truck that spilt yellow dye all over the road? Is it a major crash with casualties? Do you want to find out?

Yes. Yes, you do.

“I just think it’s neat.” You say, shrugging.

His eyes linger on you for a few more seconds until they end up traveling from your head to your waist. He finally looks away.

You keep staring at the side of his face, studying it; there’s a faint outline of an ear, a barely visible jawline, the skull plate sewn on his painted balaclava.

“Does it get clammy in there?” You ask again, this time louder.

You know he heard you, but he doesn’t turn to look at you this time. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising, and so does his head. He closes his eyes, and with a long exhale, he lets it all out. He stretches his neck to the left and then to the right.

“What is it that you wanna know?” He asks.

“You never removed it during our mission, not one single time,” you explain. “Got me wondering if you ever take it off, that’s all.”

He lets out an almost inaudible chuckle; it’s so quiet that you can’t hear it, but you can see his shoulders rise and fall. He slowly shakes his head as he gazes down at the floor. Hopefully, it’s a genuine reaction and not just an attempt to release the tension building up.

He straightens himself, sliding back in his seat before reclining. His shoulders press against yours, and you make room for him as much as possible. It almost feels like he’s intentionally expanding his presence; otherwise, he might have been more considerate with his posture. On the other hand, so would you with all the drilling.

“I, too, wonder about you.” He says.

“About what?” You ask.

“Whether you ever stop talking.” He replies, turning to look at you.

“I have questions.” You explain as your eyes drift to his right ear.

“I can tell,” He says and gestures for you to go ahead. “Let’s hear ’em.”

You straighten up and twist your upper body towards him.

“Ok, so,” you begin and clasp your hands together. “How does the medic check your ears if you keep them covered?”

“My ears are just fine.” He responds almost too quickly.

“How do you know?”

“I keep listening to you, don’t I?” he replies. “It’s my nerves that need checking.”

“Why?”

“Cause I keep listening to you.” He repeats. “Anything else?”

“What about your mouth?” You ask. “What if they need to check that during the examination?”

“I’m sure you’d manage that for both of us,” he replies as he leans further back, resting his head on the wall. “Since yours rarely stays closed.”

“Is that so, Lt.?”

He shuts his eyes and slowly nods.

“Do you have an answer for everything?” You ask.

“Do you want to find out?”

“Do I?”

“Do you?” He says, opening his eyes and looking straight at you.

You open your mouth to say something but decide against it. You close it and twist your body to the front, yet you can feel his eyes burning through the back of your head.

“You forgot the nose.” He says.

“What?”

“The nostrils.” He explains. “You asked about almost every single orifice in the human body except the nostrils and the arsehole, for Christ’s sake.”

“Do they check those?”

“Only if you have allergies,” he replies. “Or an infection.”

“Allergies in the arse?” You joke. “Never heard of that.”

“No,” he says, pointing at you. “Pain in the arse.”

———————————————————————

[ddarker-dreams]

Better The Devil You Know.

Yandere Chrollo x Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, discussions of past minor character death, and descriptions of anxiety. Word count: 2.6k.

You awake to cold sheets and damp cheeks. 

It isn’t a peaceful transition into consciousness. You fight for each breath, a losing battle that swaddles your mind in thick fog. The vapors thin out as time drags along. It doesn’t dissipate in its entirety, preferring to linger and prolong your disorientation. 

You wipe at your face with your wrists, ignoring the sting accompanying the action. Hesitatingly, you appraise it in a ray of moonlight that snuck past the blinds. It’s clear, not crimson and thick. A normal product of a healthy body. You should feel relieved, you think. Every organ is as it should be. Your brain remains in your cranium, your lungs expand and contract, and your heart pumps, albeit at an alarming speed. 

It’s better than the chill of encroaching death. 

… 

You are alive, aren’t you? 

This question prompts an investigation. 

Nothing hurts. Your throat, maybe, but that’s a minor ache spurred from thirst. Your skin is warm and clammy. Peeling the comforter off, you squint, assessing your body’s condition. Weary eyes take in everything. Your socks, the lace trimming of your nightgown, its diaphanous midriff, then your chest. Everything appears in order.  

Would your incorporeal form accurately reflect your physical body? 

You shake your head. 

This can’t be heaven — no pantheon would be cruel enough to set the stage of your paradise with props from your captivity. 

It can’t be hell either. If it were, you wouldn’t be alone right now.

You blink.

You’re alone? 

Chrollo’s side of the bed is notably empty. He must’ve got up in a hurry, the sheets are in disarray. The adjoining restroom is dark and unoccupied, confirming he must be elsewhere. Your stomach churns. Determined to do away with this creeping anxiety, you get up, padding across the hardwood floor. 

The night gifts shivers and goosebumps. Wishing to ward off its unwanted advances, you wrap your arms around yourself. You pass through the door that connects to the common area. Although it’s dimly lit, you can tell he isn’t here. The attached balcony is similarly uninhabited. A quick foray into the study confirms your status; you’re truly by yourself. 

What should be a triumph or a relief delivers nothing but dread. 

You return to the common room to assess the situation. 

You’ve never been left alone before. Not without him telling you in advance, normally with a rough estimate of when he’ll return. There’s no way an important detail like that would slip your mind. At a loss, you dredge through your memories for some sign you may have missed. His voice pierces through your head like an arrow. You wince but ignore your body’s displeasure at anything associated with him. The unintelligible noises sharpen, forming consonants and vowels. 

The thrum of the air conditioner eases away. 

You’re left in absolute silence, until Chrollo’s voice fades away, replaced by another.

“... She was five or six, I think. Right around the age where you start losing baby teeth. There’d been this game she wanted and, y’know, kids aren’t rolling in cash. So she figured, what better way to pay for it than through the tooth fairy? I caught ‘er with my wrench, determined as anything, ready to speed up the process. It ended up being a little inside joke between us.”

Your lower lip trembles. 

“... That’s how she ended up getting identified. Her teeth, I mean. Wasn’t anything else left to go off of. I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. A whole life she lived, sometimes getting into trouble, but mostly helping others outta theirs. And to have that— all that— reduced to just… just a couple, couple fuckin’— teeth? What kinda joke is that?”

You fill a glass with water until it overflows.  

“Hey, tell me. Has that fucker ever mentioned ‘er? … Probably not, right? Probably never knew she existed in the first place.” 

Head thrown back, you gulp down the liquid, fighting the lump that longs to form in your throat. 

“Who knows? Maybe I’m the one in the wrong ‘ere. Hell, you don’t look much older than her yourself. I don’t— don’t wanna hurt ya. But…” 

Tears prick the corner of your eyes. 

“There’s no other way to hurt him.” 

Someone’s beside you.

You can hear their voice, though it sounds like it’s coming from miles away, carried over by the wind. Warmth sears your bare shoulders. You smell the faint aroma of sandalwood and amber. It’s distinct, this cologne that serves as an ill-omen better than any blackbird or cracked mirror. You couldn’t scrub it from your memory if you tried. That, or the scent of old books, leather, coffee, and red wine. 

You dig your nails into something — fabric, perhaps — but nothing grounds you. It’s like you’ve been transported outside of space and time. Existing, yet far from alive. Your stomach falls while your head floats away. Up, up, up, lifting you higher and higher. From this impossible vantage point, you sway, your limbs gleefully ignoring every attempt to regain control. 

And there it is again. Your name echoes throughout the atmosphere, beckoning you to acknowledge the sound’s source. 

Maybe you should.

Even if you’ll come to regret it. 

When you first met Chrollo, his eyes stood out the most, like the universe itself deemed them worthy of veneration. You found the gray depths captivating. The undertone varied, you never could ascertain if they were a cool or warm shade. All you knew was that once they found you, they boasted a vitality siphoned at the expense of your own. 

Presently, they can’t. Their unwitting host has been exsanguinated. 

“Where were—” You silence yourself, aghast by the implication. 

You’d sought him out. So desperate for an anchor, you would’ve latched onto the culprit behind your drowning. There’s no doubt he’d find some twisted satisfaction in the accidental admission. You shrink away, but the solid counter presses against your spine, halting your retreat. He doesn’t advance, you’d barely created any distance. 

“There’d been something that required my immediate attention,” Chrollo answers your unfinished question. There’s no thinly veiled derision or curiosity in his voice. You miss the familiarity. “Does anything hurt?” 

It’s then that you recall your predicament. 

You’re on the kitchen floor, surrounded by scintillating shards of glass. A pool of water gathers to your right. Chrollo’s bent down before you, wearing a heavy coat and a tint of pink on his nose. He must’ve come from outside. He stares unblinkingly, awaiting your verdict, which you deliver by shaking your head. There’s a dull ache in your tailbone but you keep that to yourself. It’s awkward enough that he found you in this state. 

You’re sitting on the floor with one leg extended and the other bent at the knee, allowing your short nightgown to ride up. The compromising position stokes your embarrassment. You shuffle around to maintain some dignity. In doing so, you forget the pointed glass strewn about. Before you make contact, you’re hoisted up. Chrollo foresees your struggle and holds you tight enough to thwart its success. 

“You’re alright,” he reassures, his sincere gentleness unbecoming. "Everything's alright."

He places you down on the closest couch and sits beside you. While you regain your bearings, he shrugs off his jacket, then drapes it around your trembling form. His scent and warmth flood your senses. You consider throwing it off out of spite, only to decide against it. You’d be the one to suffer the most. Chrollo remains unusually silent as you cocoon yourself in the thick wool jacket. It’s big on you, but not big enough to swallow you whole like you’d prefer. 

“Should I grab your propranolol?” 

Another head shake.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Foreseeing your tepid response, he adds, “Verbally?” 

You clear your throat as quietly as you can. “I got thirsty.” 

“Hm.” 

You both know he isn’t convinced. It’d be easy for him to poke and prod until you revealed everything — intentionally or not — but his lips remain in a thin line. You shuffle in your seat. The fabric brushes against your wrists, eliciting a sharp inhale. The burn is short-lived yet the memories associated with it rage on. 

“... Chrollo?” 

He blinks, likely unused to the sound of his name on your lips. “Yes, love?” 

“If that man killed me, would it have hurt you?” 

A shadow falls over his visage, like a waxing crescent transitioning to a new moon. When you shiver, it isn’t from the cold. Dark hair frames a far darker expression. His eyes narrow as if he’s trying to see you better, beyond your flesh, at the crux of your soul. You await whatever comes next, returning his stare with equal intensity. 

Finally, he slowly replies, “Yes, it would’ve.” 

“Then why was it so easy for you to kill his daughter?” You ask, the words weighing heavily upon you. “You might’ve liked her, if you’d gotten to know her.” 

The man revealed enough for you to feel like you knew her. Lana Ellis — a woman with an iron will, sharp tongue, and golden heart. She’d recently been hired to work as a waitress at a business that catered high-end events. Galas, celebrity birthdays and weddings, those sorts of things. It wasn’t going to be a permanent arrangement. Lana planned to ditch the gig after saving up tuition money, where she’d then aim for a doctorate in veterinary medicine. According to him, he’d squandered her college fund after the unexpected death of her mother; his childhood sweetheart. He said he’d never forgive himself or the Troupe. 

“She wasn’t s’posed to have been there,” he wheezed. “She never should’ve been there…!” 

Chrollo shuts his eyes. “What are you getting at, dear?” 

His words come out light, though they’re anything but. 

“She could’ve been me.” 

“Yet she wasn’t.” 

“But—!” Your voice cracks, so you take a deep breath and try again. “You… you deprive the world of people you could’ve come to like, be friends with, whatever! All for stuff you eventually do away with. How is that… how can you…” 

Righteous anger suits you. It's a sword and shield that requires no skill to wield, reaching for the instruments have become second nature. Their effectiveness doesn't matter so long as you can hold onto something.

“You don’t need to understand.” 

This isn't a parry or pivot, he's disarmed you.

“Huh?” 

“Yes… if anything, it’s best if you don’t,” he mutters, more to himself than you. His eyes find yours again. “I can’t make sense of your empathy any more than you can grasp my lack of it. If I could, you’d no longer be yourself. Your self-limiting, bleeding heart should remain as is. It’s the one part of you I’ll leave untouched.” 

You don’t know what you were expecting. 

You slump back into your seat. “... Don’t you think you’re overestimating yourself?” 

“Hardly,” he replies. Then, in a softer voice, “You torment yourself, love. This—” 

He rests his hand over your heart.

“—Hurts you more than anything I’ve ever done. Yet you believe it unthinkable I’d do away with such an inconvenience.” 

“So you’re a coward,” you mumble. The insult is uninspired but it suits your purposes. “You can’t handle it, so you took the easy way out.” 

“Rationalize it anyway you'd like.” 

Chrollo reaches for your forearm and coaxes it into view. His fingers brush along your wrists, where the man’s restraints left rope burn behind. The irritated skin is slowly recovering. The deeper wounds, those without a cure, will linger after the surface heals. They’re etched into your bones. 

“Isn’t going against your morals worse than having none?" Chrollo queries. “That girl’s father knew you had no involvement in his daughter’s death. You’re an unwilling third party, same as she was. And he was ready to hurt you regardless."

Your mouth feels dry. “He didn't hurt me—” 

Chrollo raises an eyebrow, causing head to flood your cheeks.

“—All... that... much. I don’t think he was going to...?” 

“No, not until he was intoxicated enough to stomach it,” Chrollo retorts. “We’ll never know for certain, darling. Thankfully, I interrupted before it could get to that point."

That point, that point, that point...

What could that man have done to you?

Chrollo appraises you like he's yet to decide on something.

After a moment passes, he leans in, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. Your muscles stiffen as he pulls you close. He exerts none of the force you know him to be capable of. The gesture's languid nature gives the impression you could wriggle free if you tried. You don't test this theory. Chrollo's mood seems pensive, not amorous, hence your hesitant compliance.

He speaks your name. Then, he asks, "What's really bothering you?"

Biting your lip, you turn your head away from him.

He doesn't relent. "You can tell me anything, you know."

If you weren't so utterly exhausted, you might've laughed.

"You wouldn't be my first choice for a heart-to-heart."

"How about your second?"

You look at him like he's just suggested the world is flat. He smiles softly, allowing you time to think.

It's weird.

This is weird.

The lack of verbal finesse, designed to extract any emotion or confession he desires. You're used to his cunning, his depravity, his unfiltered self. You've come to expect it, as one would the sunrise and sunset. Briefly, you search for it. The expedition is futile. His normal tells are gone.

Truly, you could almost forget the imbalanced nature of this dynamic and pretend it's normal.

It isn't, however.

So you'll need to keep your wits about you.

"Could... er..." you trail off, uncertain of the best parlance, "Will something like that... happen... again...?"

The claustrophobia of being shut in a trunk. Blindfolded, hands and feet bound, gagged by a rag. Terrified and sobbing. Unable to breathe, unable to scream.

You feel as small now as you did then.

The man told you his reasoning. It tugged on your heart. Wringed the organ for everything it was worth. He deserved justice. He deserved revenge. At that lone instance, the playing field was even. The immeasurable gap in strength between him and the Phantom Troupe's boss meant nothing if Chrollo wasn't physically present. There was a chance for this bereaved father to return the pain unfairly inflicted on him.

But why on you?

Why do you have to be cast into hell for the sins of another?

And why was it so tempting to forgive the devil's transgressions against you, if he provided salvation just this once?

You don't know when you began shaking, but you do know it won't be easy to stop.

"You must've been scared," he murmurs.

This observation makes your throat feel impossibly tight, as if a serpent coiled around your neck. His eyelashes flutter shut and he rests his forehead against yours. He contents himself on breathing in your air while you wrestle with the odd intimacy of it all; this simplicity untainted by needling or provocations.

"I never make the same mistake twice," Chrollo eventually says. "In light of recent events, I've made it clear that you are off limits. Those who still wish to try their luck, well..."

The air itself writhes like a malicious entity. The sensation is brief, but the impression lingers, chilling you on a primordial level. You're reminded that his control, while impressive, isn't flawless. Every surface can fissure, allowing the noxious contents contained within to break free. This concentration of ill-intent isn't even focused at you. To be on the receiving end must be to face the inevitably of death.

"... They can be made examples of too."

Curiosity nips at your heels, demanding satiation.

Your part your lips.

Then his eyes reopen. They're dull, lacking any illumination, like light itself felt the urge to flee.

It's an understandable sentiment.

For that reason, you decide some questions are better left unanswered.

[luviemax]

big jet plane- oneshot

a/n: i'm alive.... trust... song inspo here

-> carlos sainz x fem!reader, no physical descriptions of reader

warnings: i'm a time traveller, puking, inaccurate portrayal of appendicitis

word count: 1,640 words

masterlist

2024 is a tense year.

For you, mostly.

Carlos is out of a seat for the 2025 season.

Although you know he'll probably be fine in the end. He has the skill, speed, talent and intelligence for any team to be on their knees to be signing him. Any team would be lucky to have him, and it would be simply illogical for Carlos to be out of a drive next year.

Yet, much to your dismay, you're not a team principal, and you're not really in charge of those things.

"Y/N." Carlos sighs, not in frustration, but more with a sense of concern. "Hm?" You hum absentmindedly, pushing at your food with your fork. "What's wrong?" He moves from his place from across the table to the empty seat next to yours. When he settles down on the seat, you simply rest your head on his shoulder, "you can tell me, you know?" You simply nod in agreement, thinking of the words you aren't quite able to say. "I'm just..." You suck a breath of air through your teeth, "frustrated. I can't believe they just...." "I know," He runs your fingers through your hair in a soothing manner, "but there's nothing you could've done about it, amor. Neither could I." You don't respond, but you wrap your arms around his waist and sink further into caress.

Of course, you trust his word.

You're over the moon when he scores a podium upon the first race of the season.

That joy doesn't last long, though.

You're worried sick when he spend half the next week bent over the toilet spewing out whatever had gone in.

You feel helpless.

All you can do is sit next to him and rub his back in soothing circles as he continues to spill his sick into the toilet bowl for the millionth time of the day.

He looks pale and frail as he lies asleep underneath the sheets.

In hopes of making him feel better, you wipe a damp towel all over his face, but much to your dismay, his face feels hot and burning under your touch.

"Carlos," You whisper, hoping to wake him up gently. He cracks his eyes open, just slightly, "can you open up for me?" He opens his mouth, just enough for you to slot in a thermometer. The display of the device blinks an angry bright red as it read 39.9°C. "I'm going to call your doctor, okay?" You ask him, running a hand through his hair and stroking his cheek under your thumb. He simply leans into your touch and gives you a faint nod. "What day is it?" He rasps, voice sounding hoarse and exhausted. "It's Thursday baby, why?" You scoot closer to him, running your fingers through his hair to brush his scalp in a way that you know he'd love. "Fuck," he groans, "what if I'm not well in time for the race?" "Let's not be so hasty, okay?" You reassure him, "let's see what the doctor says. I'll get him to come over here." He simply nods and shuts his eyes to get some rest.

"Doctor, do you know what's happening?" You ask the man as he walks out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him as Carlos slept, albeit restlessly. "I can't say for sure," the doctor replied, walking to the exit for the door, "it could just be a bug. I'd suggest that you just wait it out for the time being." "Alright. Thank you for your help." You give him a tightlipped smile as he waves goodbye and gets into his car.

You spend the entirety of the flight to Saudi Arabia observing Carlos anxiously, holding his hands in yours and soothingly running your thumbs over the back of his hands. Perhaps his nausea had settled down slightly, but his skin seemed clammy, and he had been having hot and cold flashes which made it nearly impossible to get a good night's sleep. How was he meant to race in these conditions?

Just before he got into the car for FP1, you pull him aside into his driver's room for just a moment. He simply pulls you into his arms as you bury your face into his neck. You pull away, but still keep both your hands on his face. "Carlos," You start, caressing his face underneath your fingertips, "I don't want you to push yourself if you feel like you can't do it, okay?" He simply nods in response, but that's not enough for you, "I want to hear you say it." "I'll stop if I can't do it, I promise." He reassures you, and leaves to race with a kiss on your cheek.

Your foot is tapping anxiously on the floor of the Ferrari garage for the entire hour of FP1. "Are you okay?" Alex asks halfway through the session, a concerned look gracing her face. "Yeah, yeah," You say dismissively, "it's just that Carlos isn't feeling that well. I just don't want him to overdo it." She simply nods in understanding.

When Carlos finally gets out of the car, he looks pale and stressed. "Are you ok?" You ask him, inspecting him from head to toe. "I think I need to sit down." You nod, and quickly guide him to his driver's room. You hand him a cup of cold water which he eagerly gulps down. Although he says that he's fine, you don't buy it. He doesn't seem mildly alright, so you leave the room with the excuse of using the restroom, but you go get the team's doctor instead.

Unlike the family doctor which you had called over to the house, this one seemed far more thorough. "I think you should go to the hospital." He tells you and Carlos, speaking in English so that you could understand too. "What?" You exclaim, eyebrows furrowing with confusion, "But why? The other doctor said that he would be fine." "Perhaps his symptom weren't as apparent then, but based off what you've described to me, I think that he might have appendicitis. I don't have the proper equipment now, of course, but I'll make arrangements for you to go to the hospital. I suggest you get your things packed." The doctor gave the two of you a curt nod before leaving the room. "C'mon, why don't you change into something more comfortable?" Out of your travel bag, you hand him a t-shirt and sweatpants. You help him into his clothes as you help him into his change. You pack up all of your personal belongings as the two of you are led outside into a van which is meant to bring you to the hospital.

When you arrive there, a doctor gives Carlos an ultrasound, where he's formally diagnosed with appendicitis. "It's a minor surgery, and it should be done within a few hours. The recovery should be a week or two." the doctor informs you as he begins to instruct the nurses to prep him for surgery. You nod, simply unable to speak. How could you have failed to notice something so big?

Once he's out of surgery, you've called his dad, who was in town for the race. You sit by his side, holding his hand as he slowly awakes from the anastasia from the surgery.

"Cariño," he rasps, "how long has it been?" "Few hours." You hum, pouring him a glass of water. "Hijo." Carlos Sr materialises from the bathroom, rushing in to check on his son. "Papá." Carlos greets. "Are you feeling okay?" His dad asks, taking a seat on the other side of his bed. "Been better, been worse." Carlos shrugs, wincing at the movement. You place a hand on his shoulder, halting his movements. "The doctor told you not to move too much." You whisper, keeping your voice soft. "The doctor told you to tell me that." Carlos retorts. It's amazing how he's still so witty despite his weakened state.

The next day, you and Carlos are on a plane back to Madrid to rest. He spends most of the trip resting. You're glad, though. His bout of illness had brought him weeks' worth of exhaustion and tiredness.

For the next two weeks, the two of you are in your own sort of comfortable bubble.

Ollie would drive in place of Carlos, so that wasn't something for him to stress about.

The two of you would have slow mornings, breakfasts' in bed, and walks around the estate to hopefully rebuild his flexibility for movement before Melbourne.

Mornings are filled with gentle, adored kisses and peaceful naps and simply... repeat.

His physio recommends swimming as part of his recovery too, so the two of you spend a copious amount of time basking under the Spanish sun and spacious swimming pool.

He's all back to good by the time Australia comes around.

You accompany to the race, and admittedly, you still baby him a little, but just a little bit.

"Remember, don't push yourself, okay?" You remind him, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek before he gets into the car for qualifying. He simply gives you a knowing smile and gives you a warm hug.

You're beyond amazed at the fact that he's going to start at P2. Even more shocked that he almost starts on pole. And you're beyond overjoyed to see that he seems as fit as a fiddle when he gets out of the car.

On race day, you're stunned that Max's car malfunctions. But your worry for a friend quickly turns to an ecstatic buzz that runs through your body when he takes the lead of the race.

When he wins, you're standing front row, cheering him on as he approaches the Ferrari crowd and takes your lips into a sweeping kiss in front of the roaring mob.

[rizsu]

euphoria ? suna rintarō.

sum. labeled, but sfw. arguments, suna cries, angst -> comfort.

rintarō isn't one to let his anger dominate him; rather, he tries his best to keep his emotions at bay. however, there's only so much someone can take before exploding. high octaves of a once calm voice bounces off the walls, it takes both by shock. rintarō stops, his eyes bulging when he realizes what happened.

fuck, he thinks. he didn't mean to. swallowing the burning sensation of guilt, he steps forward. countless apologies flow from his lips, clammy hands trying to reach you in attempts of a hug. you're still shocked. numb to your feet, your mind replays the scene. it hurts. it really hurts. you didn't mean for it to turn out like this.

from a simple worry to nagging to spitting out meaningless words of anger. it never meant to escalate like that; nothing was supposed to turn the way it did. hurt, anger, jealousy, and sadness. he knew your words came from concern, but he was already irritated—annoyed in a way that he just wanted to be locked in a quiet room. both parties letting their words go before logic; nothing was meant to turn this way.

“i think...i think i'll go upstairs. please don't come.” y/n mumbled, pain evident in her voice. as your figure ascends into the upper floor, rintarō slouches back into the couch. a heavy sigh fills the room; regret and guilt seeps into his pores, eating him alive.

i'm a fucking ass, he thinks again.

rintarō laughs. he drags his palms over his face, stopping at his eyes before he laughs again. it's funny, really. did he really have to lash out like that? rintarō promised he'll never hurt you. he'd never ever hurt you, but can that promise still hold meaning even after this? physically, he didn't. mentally and internally? the tremble of your voice said more than enough.

the more his mind repeats what happened like a broken record, the more tears well up in his eyes. they threaten him. they laugh at him. the salty liquid mocks him—it's almost as if it's saying, “ha! you're an idiot!” 

he swallows hard, trying so hard not to let his voice be heard. he doesn't want to cry but fuck, it hurts so much. when the dam swells until it bursts, floods occur. and so he let it go. the tears race down the sides of his face. he covers his mouth with one hand, biting hard in attempts not to make a sound.

it's been a few hours. each in their own space, trying to soften the pain that invited itself. no one tried speaking to another—the fight lingers fresh in both minds. rintarō's on the edge; he's itching to be in your presence. to hold you. to kiss you. 

five minutes turn into ten, which turned into twenty, and he's still there. still behind the door that separates him from you, hesitating to turn the knob. his hand shakes—he's nervous..? anxious? afraid you'd ask him to leave you alone? hell, he doesn't know.

rintarō didn't know he was in his head until the door opened on your side. he gapes at you, eyes searching for something.

“rin—” you start but he continued, “i'm sorry.”

he notes the confusion riddled on your face but he continues on.

“i'm sorry, love.” he says, hands holding yours as he looks down biting his lips. he's ashamed to face you.

“rintarō,” you tighten your grip on his hand, “let's sit down.” you instruct and he obeys, chewing on his bottom lip as a distraction.

rintarō's eyes linger on you. he observes your face, your behaviour, your tired eyes that show clear evidence of countless hours of crying. his heart hurts. he never thought he'd be the reason you're crying tears of sadness. never did he ever want to make you cry like that.

“you've been crying.”

“yeah, you too huh? i'm sorry, rin.”

at your apology he freezes. you're sorry? why are you apologizing? he's the one who lost control so why the fuck are you apologizing?

rintarō laughs again. he's been acting like a real fool hasn't he? having a wife who apologises for her husband's inconsiderate actions.

“don't. don't do that. don't apologise.”

“but—”

“please,” he begged. pushing you both down onto the bed, rintarō holds you above him. one arm wrapped tightly around your waist while the other rubs your shoulder, he continues his speech, “i didn't mean to—i didn't mean to yell like that. i don't know what i'd do if you left.”

you play with the hem of his shirt waiting for him to finish.

he let out a ragged breath before continuing, “i don't like it when you're hurt. this is gonna sound corny but i hate it when you cry too.”

you wait again but he doesn't continue like before. confused you look up at him only to furrow your eyebrows while your eyes wash over with concern. is he trying to not cry? you think.

yeah, he's crying again. small droplets trickle down his face once more as he sucks in his cheeks trying to not make a sound.

“rin.” he doesn't answer.

“suna rin.” he hums quietly but it's not the answer you want.

“suna rintarō.” there, he answers.

your heart shreds. hearing his voice like this was as rare as a red moon; you hate it. you hate how he never allows himself to cry. he's human isn't he? so why's he acting as though he's a machine.

you sit up on his lower half, cupping his face forcing him to look at you.

“we both did our wrongs so why are you behaving like you committed a first degree crime?” you ask though you aren't looking for an answer.

he stays quiet. eyes lost deep in yours as he waits for your words again.

“yes it did hurt, but that doesn't mean i'll throw away your love doesn't it? i know better than to divorce you for this argument, rin. we've been together for years.”

your fingers start to caress his cheek—some even tracing his face's outline. rintarō's hands find refuge on your waist, he holds and plays with your skin.

“i love you, rin. i'll tell you over and over until you know it.”

“i know.”

“then act like you know, boy.”

he laughs for the fifth time today, but it's no longer a laugh of disbelief, no. it's a laugh of joy. it's a breathy laugh that makes his eyes crinkle.

he sits up, pulling you into a hug as he lowers his head into the junction of your neck and shoulders. a smile finally dawns both faces.

after long hours anger says goodbye as love enters the house. what a day, you both think.

[ohtobeleah]

Roughing It // JS x BB x Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin begged you, his best friend to go camping with him and Bradley Bradshaw—but not for the innocent reasons you might think. A simple camping trip turns into something much more unholy. Callsign— Giggles

Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!Reader. Bradley Bradshaw x F!Reader. Unprotected sex. Male receiving oral. Choking. MxMxF Threesome. Creampie. Obvious power dynamics.

Word Count: 5.7k

Author Note: Happy Sunday—AKA, the Lords day. This is Roughing It’s 3rd rewrite & by far my favourite re-write & fandom. Enjoy Sluts.

In the quiet of the warm afternoon light that cascaded across Jake Seresin's living room—you found a spot in the warm orange hume to curl up on the lounge. You settled on your comfort movie—TopGun, Maverick. Your clammy hand caressed the TV remote as you pressed play, the opening sequence still and always would send chills through your body as you watched the carrier out to sea appear on the large crisp screen like you’d watched a million times before and would probably watch a million times more. 

“High— way to the danger zone—“ You mumbled along as you settled in a little deeper, trying to will the inappropriate thoughts away. To say you were nervous was an understatement, neither you and Jake or you and Bradley had spoken about the events that had transpired a week ago and either of the two men who you’d had some of the roughest sex of your life with, no pun intended, had looked at you the same since. 

“Just come over and hang out, Gigs?” You could hear Jake's voice in your head as you sat and tried to focus on the movie playing in front of you. “You’ve been avoiding me like the damn plague.” 

There was a reason for that—

You couldn’t tell if Jake and Bradley were looking at you in disgust and regret at the thought of what the three of you had done or if they were just looking for an opportunity to have their way with you again. From fleeting glances in the halls or eyes that burned into the back of your head in the change rooms. Either way, it made you crave the two naval aviators more than you cared to admit. 

It all happened so fast, you couldn’t remember exactly how it started but the one thing you knew for sure was that Jake was the one who imitated it. He’d been thinking about it for a hell of a long time before he put his plan into action too. 

***~***~***~***

“For crying out loud Giggles! you complain more than Bradshaw does.” Jake huffed as he stood and turned away from where the two of you had been sitting on the camp log. “My god you’re driving me insane!” He groaned out as you turned your head to follow his trajectory. You could physically hear the frustration laced in Jake's tone of voice. “Just cut it out for like five minutes will ya?” Jake tried to level with you the best he could as he went around and grabbed a stray stick, he poked at the fire with it as he watched the bright orange embers fly into the night sky. You scoffed, cleaning the bowls from the delightful dinner of canned chicken soup and roasted vegetables. 

“Bite my fucking ass, Seresin, maybe if you didn’t try to feed me cold inedible canned soup for dinner I wouldn’t be in such a pissy mood!” Jake Seresin had proven himself time and time again—he was a shocking cook. “You barely even followed the instructions! How hard is it to heat up a can of soup!” 

“You haven’t stopped the entire day!” Jake felt his emotions running rampant after an exhausting day or setting up for the trip the three of you had been planning for weeks. You, Jake and Bradley had all aligned your work commitments to spend a few days in the wilderness together, off the grid, no phones and away from prying eyes. It was a much needed break from the world—the navy, F-18’s, commitments and Fanboys latest obsession with the new star wars movie. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, Jake couldn’t help but to raise his voice at you, he poked and prodded with the fire for a few moments more before he let his inhibitions get the better of him. Before Jake really knew what he was doing, his feet were taking him on a mission of their own, marching him over to where you were washing the used pots and pans out 

“I’ve got a headache from your incessant complaining.” Seething, Jake towered over you from behind. His muscular build that rivals Adonis himself blocked the soft light of the moon. Watching as you shrugged him off with a simple eye roll–Jake didn't take well to being shrugged off so nonchalantly like your attitude wasn't a massive pain in his arse. He’d known you for the better half of ten years and you’d always been on his ‘fuck it’ list. 

“Then fucking leave me alone then!? God, it’s like you didn’t beg me to come with you guys even though you damn well know I hate everything associated with camping.” You let Jake have it as you placed the dirty pot you were working on into the soaping lukewarm later before you turned to face Jake completely. “You have a problem with my complaining, but you complaining about my complaining is worse than any complaining I've done.” Jake scoffed as you pushed your index finger into his chest– the action alone made him bite his tongue. He was as hard as a rock and felt like he could snap at any second. He wanted you, so bad. He needed to feel you. 

“Come on Hangman, just let me get this shit done and we can go to bed.” You tried to soften the mood, you could see very clearly in Jake's emerald green eyes that he was ready to fight. His chest was puffed, his feet were firm and his jar was sharp–clenched tight to keep himself from speaking thoughts he only ever thought about when he was alone and jerking himself off into existence. “Go to bed–I'll be right behind you.” You smiled softly before you patted Jake's chest three times with a gently open palm before you turned back to where you had been working away at the dishes. “You know, you’re kinda acting like you want me to bitch and moan your ear off? You shoul–”  Before you could finish your sentence, Jake's large and slightly calloused hand wrapped around your jaw. He covered your mouth as he pressed his chest against your back and held you securely against him by bringing his other arm around your waist. breathing heavily through your nose your eyes widened when you felt Jakes hard on press against the small of your back, you couldn’t process what was happening fast enough. 

Jake had seen his opportunity and taken it. The two of you had always had sexual tension but you refused to do anything about it for the sake of your own image. He was a great friend, a questionable wingman at times, but Jake Seresin had never been a guy on your roster. Until now when your sexual tension reached new peaks and Jake finally cracked under the pressure. 

All it took was an off grid camping trip 

“Maybe I needed an excuse to finally fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” Jake groaned as he felt you shudder under his touch. “I always find myself jerking off to the thought of your lips around me.” His warm breath fanned across the supple skin of your neck before he softly pressed his lips to the juncture of your neck–leaving a gentle kiss against your collarbone that sent instant goosebumps over you like a shock tsunami. “The thought of what your lips would feel like wrapped around me Gigs really makes me question my sanity.” A soft whimper escaped your mouth and vibrated against  the palm of Jake's hand. “But you already know that, you always have, haven't you?” 

“Hey Guys?” Bradley called out from inside the tent to where he knew you and Jake were. All Jake did was press himself further into your back and hold his hand against your mouth a little tighter, willing you to keep quiet as he responded to Rooster.

“What's up Bradshaw, I thought you went to bed ages ago?” 

“Well I tried but your bickering back and forth was kinda hard to ignore–” Neither you nor Jake could contest that statement. “Just try not to kill each other out there, please? And shut the fuck up!” 

“We’re good, aren't we Y/n?” Jake replied as he reluctantly pulled his hand away from your mouth. This was your chance to tell Jake to rack off. This was your chance to tell him you didn't want any of this, that he’d read you wrong and it had all been innocent fun. But he hadn’t read you wrong, you wanted Jake just as badly as he wanted him. You were just too afraid to admit it. 

“Yeah, we’re good.” You added to Jake's surprise. It was all the confirmation he needed. “Night Rooster!” It didn't take long for Jake to spring into action, he was desperate and needed to get you out of his system before you had a chance to fully infect his entire being. If the two of you fucked and got it out of your system, then he could still walk away unscathed. There were feelings bubbling under the surface but Jake Seresin didn't do feelings. 

“Why’d you bring me out here?” You asked as you turned around to face Jake. “You could’ve just asked me to suck you off in the comfort of your own bed?” There wasnt an awful lot of space left between the two of you as you stood shrouded in the soft glow of the moonlight. You made your move and wrapped your arms up and around Jake's shoulders, he followed suit and mirrored your actions by closing the gap, your lips now ghosted his as Jake smiled against you. “I'm sure if you had asked me to, I would have played into your dirty little fantasies.” You could feel Jake trying to kiss you, but much to his display and desperate attempts to feel your lips on his you kept your playful smirk smeared across your face and pulled further away. “I can assure you that whatever fantasy you've concocted that gets you off at night, the real things ten times better.” 

“Just” Jake paused, his hands gripped at your waist to pull you flush against him. He couldn't risk you getting away from him. Not now. “Just didn’t wanna risk the neighbours putting in a noise complaint.” Giggling, you made the move to connect your lips against Jake’s. A heated, passion filled kiss had you both gripping at different parts of each other’s bodies as you walked back closer towards the tent, specifically the fallen tree in front of it.

You pushed Jake down by guiding him with a gentle hand on his shoulder–there was not a single part of his being that objected to your dominance. He felt his dick twitch inside his sweats at the action. You stood before him for a second with a wicked smirk across your face. Jake knew you were into this just as much as he was. 

“Are you just gonna stand there Giggles or are you gonna get to work?” Jake teased you as he trailed a hand up between your legs. “I'm dying here.” You waisted not a second longer as you dropped gracefully to your knees before him. You played with the elastic of Jake's sweats as he helped you wiggled them down his toned and oh so muscular legs–pulling them down towards his ankles until there was nowhere left for them to go except discharged and forgotten about. With a slight chuckle, you gripped his hardened length in your right hand, barely moving your palm up and down his shaft just to watch him swim under your warm touch. 

“Fuck–” Jake sighed in relief as you slowly moved your palm. It was barely nothing, the pad of your thumb swiped across his leaking tip to collect some of his pre cum. The essence of Sersin. “Fucking christ–”  

“Going commando, something you do regularly, Hungman?” You made sure to tease the man putty in your hands before taking his tip in your mouth, you rolled your tongue gently over his flushed tip. Pink and bright and oh so sensitive. The colour of his lips. Sensitive and begging for your unconditional attention. 

“Nah, just somethin’--” Jake couldn't think straight, he couldn’t formulate a full sentence as you worked your hand over him, jerking him off slowly but perfectly. “Oh my god–” Jake moaned, too caught up in the pleasure you were giving him as you took him deeper down your throat, inch by inch, so far down your tiny throat, his manscaped pubic hair tickled the tip of your nose. “Gifs—fuckin’ Christ, where did you learn how to do that?” His voice was raspy and heavy as he tried to control his breathing. His hand made a makeshift ponytail with your hair as you bobbed up and down, gagging softly around Jake's cock as it twitched and leaked pre-cum onto your tongue. With your watery eyes, so lust filled and dowy peering up at him, Jake thought for sure he’d entered the gates of  heaven. 

“Sounds like someone’s a little bit jealous of those who got to cum before you Seresin.” You took Jake's saliva coated cock from your mouth and pumped him with your hand, he watched through hooded eyes as you took both his balls in your mouth softly as you began to glide your tongue gently over the sensitive skin. “Taste so good Jake—“ 

“Fuck—“ This was everything Jake Seresin had fantasised about. “Yess—Y/n, oh my god.'' Jake wasn’t being discreet at all, his moans filled the campground and echoed off the mountains as you jerked his thick throbbing cock and sucked so delicately on his balls. In hindsight, it wasn’t the smartest idea to give Jake head right in front of the tent you both planned on sharing with Bradley Bradshaw. It was needless to say—you’d fucked up. 

As you went back to take Jake entire cock down your throat, you closed your eyes as they watered. Never stopping for a moment to see the familiar silhouette of Bradley standing just behind Jake, watching on as his best friend gave some of the sloppiest head to his other best friend he’d ever seen. He didn’t know how to truly feel about the sight unfolding before him, but Rooster surely felt the strain of his sweats becoming a little more noticeable with every passing second. 

The second Jake saw Bradley, he tried shooing him off, mouthing a soft “fuck off” as he tried to hold his orgasm back. He looked sucked out as all hell and you’d only given him head. He didn’t think he was prepared for how you’d feel fluttering around his length. 

“Uhh! Fuck Giggles, keep doin’ that and I’m going to cum down that pretty fucking throat of yours.” Jake confessed, his hand helped to guide your head down his shaft as you gagged and hummed around him. Bradley’s eyes widened as he made himself scarce, shocked at the sight he just saw. He couldn’t see you like that, he wasn’t Jake. He couldn’t take advantage of you. He couldn’t ruin you like he’d always wanted to. 

“That’s the point Jake, don’t hold back, flood my throat.” You looked up through your lashes, looked up to see Jake's flushed face as his mouth fell open into an O shape, his eyes trained on you as you went back to furiously sucking his cock, hard and fast. Your other hand continued fondling his balls, squeezing them slightly as his orgasm approached. 

“Fuck! Shit, ahhh- Y/n m’cumming, fuck, fuck ohhhh—!” Jake's orgasm washed over him. He could feel the pool at the base of his shaft beginning to overflow, ready to explode. When he did he shot deep down your throat in hot spirits as his cock twitched in your mouth. Jake's entire body stilled as he fell victim to his orgasm, the intense wave of pleasure took over his entire being as he let out a prolonged moan. All consuming. 

“Holy fuck.” Jake sighed heavily as he tried to catch his breath after coming down from his high. He watched as you swallowed his entire load, licking the tip of his swollen length,  making sure nothing was left behind, that nothing was wasted.

“Did that live up to all those naughty thoughts?” You questioned as you sat back on your heels, watching as Jake pulled his sweatpants back up his toned legs—missing the sight of him the second he was covered. 

“Oh” Jake exclaimed, a smile appeared wide and wild on his crimson flushed face as his free hand worked to push back his slightly damp hair. “That exceeded everything I ever thought it would be like.” You nodded, proud of your efforts as you rose to your feet, standing between Jake's legs as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands immediately helped your hips still so you couldn’t move. 

He wasn’t done with you yet. 

“Hope it doesn’t change anything between us?” You asked softly, leaning over to plant your lips against his, the slight taste of his cum still evident and present on your swollen lips. Tasting himself for the first time, Jake didn’t quite mind. It made his heart pump with lust and adrenaline as anticipation for what was to come lingered in the air. 

“That won’t change anything.” He whispered into your open mouth, his forehead rested against yours as you maneuvered yourself down to straddle his waist. “But once I watch you suck Rooster off while I fuck that tight cunt I know you’ve got, might be a different story.” Before you could answer, you heard what sounded like Bradleys metal water bottle falling to the ground from inside the tent.

“What!?” Bradley shouted as you did the same, only softer yet just as confused. Jake didn’t just say that—did he? 

“C’mon Gigs,” Jake smirked as he placed some of your freely flowing hair behind your ear. “Bradley saw what you just did and I know he has the same twisted thoughts as me, s’not fair now is it?”

You didn’t respond right away as Jake moved your jumper to the side and kissed at your collarbone—the moonlight danced across his tones shoulders as you mulled over his proposal. To be completely objectifying, Bradley Bradshaw was incredibly attractive. You couldn’t deny you’d thought about him from time to time when you found yourself alone and in need of a release. You just thought it was completely out of the realm of possibility. 

Turns out with Jake's help, it wasn’t. 

“I guess not.” You answered meekly before kissing Jake once more, your tongue dancing with his gracefully, like you were searching for his soul and he yours. Jake waisted not a second more as he picked you up and had you straddle his waist. He walked you over to the small two-man that was inevitably going to be a three man tent and dropped you to your feet at the door. 

“Bradshaw, you have a total of five seconds to open this door before I change my mind on sharing.” As Jake spoke through the tent door, you began taking your jumper off, exposing your bare chest to him, his jaw hanging open when he noticed your perky tits. Kissed by the chill of the cool night. 

“Oh fuck.” His voice was unrecognisably low and full of lust. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so keen on sharing you.” His hand came out to grip your right nipple between his index finger and thumb as Bradley opened the door, already naked and hard as ever. A slight wince left your lips from the sudden pinch Jake gave your nipple as he rolled it between the pads of his index finger and thumb. 

“I uh—“ Bradley stuttered, rubbed at the back of his head like a school boy who’d been caught writing crude and inappropriate comments on his desk. “I was already jerking off after I saw you take Jake balls deep in your throat.” Bradleys cock twitched against his lower abdomen as he sat back awkwardly. He’d only reached up to unzip the tent door. 

Jake pulled hard against your nipple, making you walk closer to him before shoving you gently into the tent, a sinful smile grew upon your face as Bradley lost his positioning and fell back, welcoming you into the tiny room as he reached out to stop you from falling on top of his. He looked all kinds of nervous, worried even. 

“S’okay Rooster.” You cooed innocently enough for him to let his guard down slightly. “I promise I won't bite unless you want me to.” You teased, dropping to your knees before him while Bradley worked quickly to lay down on his back, hands resting behind his head. 

“I can't believe we’re fucking doing this? This is crazy we shouldn’t I mean, c’mon Jake it's Y/n for fuck sake, she’s our bes–” Bradley couldnt finish his sentence, the second your lips were taking the tip of his throbbing length inside your warm mouth he lost all sense of insecurity about the situation. Nothing else mattered expert for your excerpt touch. The sensation of euphoria you bought him. “Oh holy shit” Your hand wrapped tightly around the base of this shaft as your tongue ran up the thick vein that ran up his entire shaft. Your lips felt heavenly around his sensitive and exposed, pre-cum covered tip and before Rooster could even wrap his mind around what it truly was extracurricular activities he was about to engage in–you had sunk lower and lower, taking every inch of his thick cock in your mouth. 

Without hesitation. 

Bradley tip was slightly darker than Jakes, you didn’t need much time at all for your throat to adjust to the foreign object making its presence known in the back of your throat over and over again due to you just having just finished sucking the life from Jake. You were prepped and ready to be whatever they needed you to be under the stars and away from the hullabaloo of Miramar. Tonight you weren't Lieutenant Y/n Giggles Y/L/N–you were Hangman and Roosters little fuck toy. 

You got to work in no time, gagging and roughly sucking up and down Bradley’s entire shaft, watching through hooded eyes as Bradley moaned and groaned uncontrollably from the pleasure he was receiving. You were between his legs as he reached out for your head, guiding you down his length. You felt Jake's hands come to the waistband of your sweatpants, he pulled them down as your mouth continued to bob up and down on Bradley’s cock. 

“Huh?'' Jake scoffed as he bit hard on his bottom lip. “Going commando, something you do regularly, Giggles?” He teased as his large slightly calloused hands slid up and over your peachy ass as it stuck up in the air, ready for his length to slide in your drenched cunt. Smiling around Bradley’s cock you gaged slightly. Pumping Bradley’s shaft with your hand as you went to answer Jake. You could very much feel his tip gliding over your dripping lips from behind. You were ready and oh so needy for him to fill your needy little pussy. 

“Nah, just something—“ You began to mimic what Hangman had told you before, but you didn't have enough time to give him attitude before you felt Jake push himself between your slick folds. He trusted his thick cock inside you, slowly, he stretched your tight pussy out so much so it almost stung. But it felt good, oh so fucking good.  “Ahhh fuck!” You cried around Bradley’s cock now balls deep down your throat. It was a position you never thought you’d find yourself in. Sucking Bradley’s cock while Jake took you from behind, taking both your best friends at the same time.

“You like this Y/n? like how we both fuck you?“ Jake asked as he bottomed out inside your tight cunt, he could feel you clench around the bottom of his cock, tip pressed against your cervix. Bradley roughly pulled you up by your hair, watching as spit trailed from your bottom lip to his swollen tip. With a needy gasp, you looked up at him wickedly, begging him to use you just with a lustful look. 

“Answer the question Y/n, do you like the way we both fuck you?” Bradley’s voice had turned into a low deep growl, his eyes had darkened from the dust brown you were familiar with to a near black mirage, full of lust unlike moments ago when he almost backed out–unsure of the decision he made to fuck his best friend. As Jake's hands gripped your hips and began to thrust faster in and out of you, you moaned in response. 

“Uh huh, l love the way you both feel ohh—god Jake you’re so big, fuck me–” Hearing you moan how big his cock was sent Jake into the stratasphere with his ego in toe, with your encouragement he began to fuck you harder, with more force. Bradley forced your head back down onto his cock, both his hands guiding your head up and down using your hair. Like you were his personal flesh light. 

“You weren’t fucking wrong man, her mouths so damn good.” Bradley’s hips beginning to lift off the ground as he fucked your mouth. Stopping every few minutes to pull you off him just so he could look at how pretty your fucked face looked. Your tears were so beautiful, all because of him. 

“Wait till you feel her tight cunt, fuck so tight its almost hard to move.” Jake was relentlessly pounding into you, the sound of his balls smacking against the curve of your ass could be heard in the silence that lingered between grunts and unapologetically loud moans of pure ecstasy. 

“Jake! Please, I'm gonna cum!” You cried, the coil within your core had begun to tighten every time Jakes tip pressed against your cervix. Bradley sat up, his hand came flying to your mouth as he shoved three of his digits inside your mouth, opening your jaw wide before leaning in close to you.

“That’s it Y/n, cum around Hangman’s cock so I can fuck you harder, fuck you till you black out, fuck you till your begging for me to stop.” Bradleys words had you nearly ascending as he coaxed you towards your high with just his words. “I wanna feel how tight your cunt is.”

“Rooster, choke her when she cums–” Jake ordered, Bradley waisted not a second as he wrapped his hand around throat and pressed his fingers into the side of your supple neck. He reached between your legs to softly rub small circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, an instantaneous quiver left your throat as his finger made contact, Bradley never for a second took his eyes off yours. He wanted to see you come undone like this, all for him and Jake. Just for him and Jake. 

“Ahh! F-fuck, m’cumming!” You whimpered as Braldey tightened his hold on your throat, he could see the small veins appearing in your forehead from the lack of oxygen but knew by the look in your eyes alone that you were loving this just as much as he was. Your pussy clenching so tightly around Jake's slicked up cock he almost stilled from the grip. 

“Ahh fuck! Rooster, holy fuck she’s like a vice!” Jake groaned as he fucked you hard through your high. “She’s creaming around my dick, fuck—” This had been Jake Seresin greatest idea, to fuck his best friends.

Bradley began to fuck your face with the same fingers he’d teased your clit with, he made you gag on them as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, trembling as you came hard around Jakes cock. Once he saw you coming down from your high, Bradle tentatively removed his hand from around your throat, watching with wide eyes as you gasped heavily for air, welcoming the new wave of oxygen that you’d been deprived of into your lungs. Tears streamed down your fucked out face. 

“Jake let me fuck her—“ Bradley whimpered out desperately as he pumped his cock fast. He waited for Jake to pull out and share, but he was ready to explode. He gripped your chin with a wicked glare as he squashed your lips together. “You don't know what you're in for, baby.”  It was a warning but you quivered with excitement nevertheless before Rooster stuck the pad of his thumb between your lips and spat into your mouth, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb. “You’re gonna ride my dick.” Bradley told you with no hesitation evident in his tone as you nodded with eagerness. Jake pulled out of you with a hard slap to your right ass cheek, causing you to let out a whine.  

“Ah!” You hissed as the sting lingered well after Jakes had left your ass, you immediately crawled closer to Bradley and straddled his waist, you manoeuvred his length to line up with your creaming entrance. Jake wasted no time in coming to stand above Bradley, his cock throbbing, ready to explode yet again as he moved your sweat covered hair to one side.

“Uhh fuck!” You whined as you sunk onto Bradley’s slightly thicker cock, his hands roamed your naked body as Jake pulled your mouth back onto his cock, needy for your mouth yet again.

“Holy fuck! Ah fuck, fuck, fuck, god you're so tight! So fuckin’ tight Y/n ride my dick just like that, yes—!” Bradley mumbled, continuously biting his bottom lip as he felt you bounce on his cock. He was in heaven, you were the best pussy he’d ever had. 

“Told you.” Jake moaned from above, his hands held onto both sides of your face as he bucked his hips softly into your throat, letting you do most of the work as he focused on chasing his second high of the night. “Slap her ass.” And so Bradley did, he slapped your ass over and over, harder every time you came down on his cock, the sting was so deep you knew you’d have a reminder of the night the come morning.

“Fuck can I cum inside you? fuck please say yes?” Bradley whimpered as you rode him, Jake took his cock from your mouth before slapping it against your open and awaiting tongue.

“Answer him!” He hissed, so close to his second orgasm it was making his eyes water and his knees weak. 

“Y-yes fuck, Rosoter! flood my fucking pussy, please!” You cried out into the secluded tent, completely exhausted and fucked out. Bradley gripped at your hips before bending his knees, fucking up into you so hard and fast you fell forward onto Jakes cock, deep throating him unexpectedly and bringing him to that sweet sweet orgasm he’d been chasing. 

“Oh fuck fuck fuck!” Jake groaned, pulling his cock from your mouth and pulling your hair back, exposing your entire face in front of him as he pumped his throbbing cock in his hand, hot spurts of cum were quick to come flying all over your fucked-out face. “Arrgghhh yes baby that's it, look so pretty covered in my cum.” 

Jakes cum completely covered your face, a facial so thick it dripped down your chin and neck as it slowly made its way to your perky tits. 

“Oh god you look so fucking hot like that.” Jake confessed, running this thumb over your bottom lip to collect some of his cum before making you suck it off. Bradley wasn’t far behind, never slowing his thrust for a second while Jake unloaded all over your face.

“M’cummingRoo! Fuck don’t stop!” You gasped aloud, your voice broke as you reached between Bradley and yourself to rub your throbbing sensitive bud. “Aaah- fuck yes!” You moaned a heavenly near pornographic groan as you came hard around Bradley Bradshaw, squirting unexpectedly all over him in the process.

“Yes! Yes! Oh fuck I’m uhhh—“ Bradley spilled his entire load into your tight cunt, creating a mixture of your cum and his as Jakes dripped from your face down your chest.

“What— what fuck just happened?” You all asked each other as both Jake and Bradley cleaned you off, completely taken aback at the events that had just passed now that your need and lust had begun to fade. 

***~***~***~***

You didn’t know at what part of the movie you fell deep into thought, reminiscing about the camping trip you took a week ago with your best friends but it was the sound of Jake’s voice that brought you out of it, only to realise you had been rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves the entire time, right there on his lounge. Hand sunk low into your sweats. 

“And what do you think you’re doing?” He questioned, leaning against the wall casually before he began sauntering over to you with a devilish smirk upon his face.  

“I uh, I uh don’t” You stuttered, fumbling around as you sat up. You knew you had been caught, but you still tried your best to act like you had no idea what he was talking about. “How long were you just standing there watching me for like some weirdo?” Jake ignored your question. He was on a mission. 

“Were you thinking about our camping trip?” Jake asked as he slowly walked over, unbuckling his belt as you noticed the hard girth showing through his dress pants, having just come back from a meeting. He was so hard it looked painful. It was painful. You looked down at Jake's crotch for a little too long, then up, down then back up, Jake’s eyes had been locked on you the entire time. Working to stand before you—his belt slipping around your neck as he tightened the loop. His hand guided yours over his clothes cock—begging for your touch. 

“Or was it just me?”

[eldritch-spouse]

[The results of the poll came in, thenk you for voting! :]. Fem reader. You live in a house for this one. Sorry for the wait, it got longer than anticipated (4.7k).]

TW: Dubious consent (reader is somewhat scared); Altered states of mind; Heat/Rut.

It's the fifth time you've been dumped into this rat's nest today.

Breg is in heat, or rather, the earlier days of such.

You knew trouble was coming when you found the breeder laying on the kitchen tiles this morning, an overheated and overly sweaty body trying desperately to cool itself on freezing ceramic. He had panted like a dog under the blaze of a Summer evening and barely noticed your presence before excusing himself to make undignified noises in the bathroom. Showering, arguing with himself, jerking off? You didn't know, and you didn't care- You just wanted to eat something before any of this madness really kickstarted.

As you shoved toast in your mouth, slowly but definitely not calmly, you got to see the monster stress himself out, walking between rooms with various items in hand. It was almost funny, if you didn't know exactly what was coming. When his rut starts, Breg always behaves like a bear who forgot to stock food before hibernating. Oh but he didn't forget anything, the cabinets are full, and he learned to buy instant meals for you after the first couple of heats where you tried to explain to his fried brain that you can't just eat dead animals he plops in front of you. Nonetheless, you got to see him strip the couch of its cushions, struggle with dragging your mattress into a corner, fetching all the spare sheets, coats, towels and blankets he could find- For fuck's sake, he ripped the curtains off this time.

All to make a padded, crowded mess of your bedroom. It's always the bedroom with him, it smells like the two of you, so it does make sense, you bitterly suppose... You'd rather this than the uncomfortable bathroom.

You barely got to finish your coffee before a clammy, darkened hand had grasped your arm and you were not so gently tugged into the bedroom, to "evaluate" the mess your eccentric (putting it criminally lightly) boyfriend had made. Having gone through the motions of this charade more than once, you already knew the correct steps to make sure everything went well. Turning towards the muddled breeder, you kissed him and complimented his skills, calling the crime against your sanity he had just committed beautiful before physically stepping into it and sitting down.

Predictably, Breg let out an elated trill from deep within his throat and forced you to lie down, tangling you in a mess of warm fabrics before slotting himself above you protectively. Heavy as he is, the monster's weight was crushing, although you managed to nudge him aside when he dozed off above you. In this phase of his rut, you're not really sure if he's going to try to fuck you or just hold you and fall asleep, so there's some leeway to roam if you're sneaky about it.

It was when you were trapped under the monster's cocoon, sweating yourself into an early grave, that the doorbell rang and you realized something horrific.

You have a package outside.

God fucking damn it.

You were usually so careful with timing things perfectly, having the days where Breg was likely to start a heat jotted down in bright red ink on your calendar so that you'd never make plans for those days. You went as far as to orient a lot of your work life around his cycle, which is annoying, but at the very least possible. To think you were stupid enough to order something and not even care to check the estimated delivery date is pathetic. Maybe you did see it- But it didn't click in your brain what those days were.

Well shit, you had thought at the time, I can't just let it sit there.

And you were right. It was an expensive purchase. Brand new equipment, high-value tech for one of your favorite hobbies. It had been a costly sacrifice, and the specs were a rare find. The package itself isn't small enough to pass by unnoticed, you know one of your scummy neighbors can see if it they look twice at your doorstep. It could be stolen! It will be, if you don't fetch it eventually.

You had tried to stay still, knowing the monster in heat wouldn't take kindly to any perceived "escape attempts", but it was nerve-wracking. You're sure that package will be taken away if you don't get it fast. You can't lose it, can't lose all that money, that effort.

Your first attempt was a blunder, having moved too fast and woken Breg before you could even make it out the bedroom. By the second, you simply got unlucky and he woke by himself, fetching you back in a panic. On the third, you could spot signs of irritation, having been tossed to the nest none too gently and snarled at, fondled and groped and ground at until he had successfully put a gross mark on you. You'll admit the fourth incident was more of an attempt to get his musk off you than a dash for the package, but it got you barked at nonetheless, caught by the living room while Breg tried to slur out warnings, shaking you, hand around your neck while you were lead back into the bedroom. You know you hit a nerve with the fifth because his face disfigured for a moment.

But you can't give up.

This is too important to you. He can't understand it, but you need that fucking thing inside your home.

That's why you're up again, having weaseled out of his clumsy trap of coats. It's impressive he was coherent enough to use the sleeves to tie knots around you, but that's about where his expertise ends in this precarious state. You've played it safer this time, letting the breeder calm down, letting him tongue-bathe you -Gross- Feed you, let him fuck your thighs even. All just so his hormonal brain can forget you even tried to step out the nest. He's sleeping soundly, but you go through the effort of putting a shirt you recently wore next to the monster, hopefully to keep him lulled.

Breg shifts in his sleep, picking up on the scent and making weird murmurs before clutching at the fabric- As if it were you there. Almost cute, if not for the fact that you're really stressed.

Instead of walking across the house, you crawl, slow and measured to make sure not even the sound of your breathing could rise Breg. There's furniture askew, remotes and decorations on the floor from the previous times he fetched you in a hurry. Although you do your best to muffle your nerves, your arms shake with anxiety. Anything could make him stir awake, you can't ever run away from him, he could hurt you.

Perhaps it's because you're sheltered, or maybe you have too much faith in the breeder, you could just be stupid- But you weigh those odds against the pain of losing your expensive purchase and, in the end, decided you'd sooner twist an ankle than let it get stolen by a filthy porch pirate.

Reaching the front door is a milestone you smile brightly at. The problem comes when you glance at the keys. They'll jingle if you're not careful, the front door thankfully never creaks, but you know for a fact it makes a distinct click when it unlocks. Kneeling, arm outstretched, fingertips almost grazing the keys, you hesitate.

Should you...?

Maybe you should head back. Pretend you never left, snuggle up to him and just give it up for today. But then, this is only just the beginning, his instincts are only going to get worse from here on out. If you can't reach the package today, then it's pointless to even try your luck the following days! Right, this is no time to falter, you need to get it now.

With newfound resolve, an inkling of it at least, you hold the keys with both hands. One to make sure the others don't clink and clank, the other doing the actual turning. Slow like molasses, calculated, even the way you inhale and exhale is measured. On the last turn, you apply pressure and keep the grip on the key as firm as you can, trying to nudge the lock open gently enough to avoid that telltale click. Sucess! Soundlessly, you feel the door move, fully unlocked.

Yes!

The hardest part is over. Removing the keys from the door, you take great care when depositing them on the carpet. Specifically the carpet, to muffle any sort of faint jingling.

The weather outside is nice, but you're too preoccupied to consider something as simple as that. No, your eyes are locked onto your prize. There, only a couple of feet away, your package! Untouched, neatly arranged, perfectly fine as it should be. You nearly cry in relief, crawling outside, beyond caring if any of your neighbors see you like this- A disheveled, stinky mess wearing only a top and casual shorts on all fours.

When your hands wrap around the cardboard, it feels as if all is well in the world. You made it. You secured your purchase. You don't have to worry about anything else anymore, you can just head inside and-

VROOM

A car zooms past the street. You hear it before you see it pass. At first, you don't even think about it. After all, what could be meaningful about a stranger driving by in a hurry, right?

And then you realize your "boyfriend" is in a hypersensitive state with notoriously augmented hearing.

Ah.

Once more, you hear it before you see it.

A jarring thump thump thump THUMP. And a shiver crawls up your spine hard enough to make you freeze. Oh God. Clutching the stupid cardboard box like a lifeline, you glance upwards, towards the doorway, seeing none other than who you dread the most right now. Breg.

He's positively fuming. You're surprised there isn't literal steam coming off his body. Hunched, tense, but it's not the size of him that scares you. It's his face. His distorted, stretched out maw- Fully extended, gums visible, pushing those horrid teeth outward as he drools on the ground. You know, in spite of his lack of visible eyes, that Breg is glaring daggers at you, specifically.

A steady hissing fills your ears and you know it's over. You know you fucked up- Not directly, but you did. Because you left the door wide open and didn't account for the noise. You're a fool. The first thing your instincts tell you to do is rise and prepare to sprint, but the moment you sit straighter, Breg releases a chilling snarl, so you opt to fold further into yourself and remain utterly catatonic. Can he understand you still, through the haze of hormones? Would he grasp it if you apologized? Should you speak at all?

The choice is made for you.

You close your eyes the moment the ground shakes with his sprinting, choking on the collar of your shirt as you're physically dragged by it and picked up by the breeder. Where before Breg's hold had been more protective than anything, it's now oppressive, squeezing you to his chest, claws denting your meat. The proximity allows you to feel the bizarre bumps on his raised skin, frigid, yet coated by steaming sweat drops. You don't open your eyes until you're airborne for a very short period, falling face-first on the musk-heavy nest.

Breg slams the door to the bedroom shut and pants harshly, landing a fist to the wall several times. Each pound makes you jump and tense, huddling into yourself with tears in your eyes. Oh God what if he's had enough? What if he does that to you?! He makes an ambiguous roar and seems to slam his own head on the wall, but it doesn't crack or chip the infrastructure like his hand did.

You wonder if he's giving himself a concussion on purpose, for your sake.

" B-Breg? " Scared, gawking eyes plead with the breeder stationed at the wall. You note the attempts he makes at steadying his breathing, fruitless, as his chest continues to heave dramatically. What the fuck is happening anymore.

" Whah... "

Oh. He's trying to speak. Usually, he can still do it in the first day or so, this looks like it's an especially intense rut, because of course it is. That's just your amazing luck shining through. You wait patiently for the monster to come up with something in between his slurring mumbles.

" What isss wrong with you?! "

" H- Huh? " His words and voice are distorted by the shape of his extended jaw, shifting his mouth and tongue to make the proper sounds of the language you both speak becomes a challenge.

" WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! " Breg bellows, turning around to face you properly. You resist the urge to crawl under the the mess of sheets and clothes.

" I- I just wanted to get the package. " You try, voice light and tone pleading, searching his face for any sort of recognition -A miracle epiphany that doesn't seem to be surfacing any moment soon- and finding nothing but growing confusion. Irritation.

" NO! " He shrieks, gesturing wildly as if you're the one missing an obvious point. " OUTSIDE. "

" Don't- Don't scream at me... "

He rolls his head, looking away, then back. " Outside- " He hisses, quieter at least. " Don't. Go. Out. "

It would just take one second. One second to get that box in and it would be over. Is it really that big of a sin? Breg starts moving upsettingly fast towards you, when an arm shoots out, you do what you usually have to when he's deep into his rut. Belly up, hands back, legs spread and neck bared. Good ol' trusty "please don't kill me".

It works.

The breeder's motions halt altogether and he seems to stare at you vapidly for a couple of static seconds. His jaw retracts a chunk, but his maw is still stretched, still that haunting grin. Good, he's distracted.

" ... You know you can't... Go outside. " He drools, to which you nod frantically. " Here is safe... Here is... "

You get to see the exact moment when hormones kill off just about any higher thought process in Breg. The monster shakes his head and crawls atop you, looking mildly bothered by the amount of clothes on your figure before lifting the hem of your shirt and burying his head underneath. Surprised, you can only giggle incredulously, feeling his humid hot breath fanning your stomach and chest. The breeder replies with an instinctual chirp and his breathing finally begins slowing down.

There, you think while slowly stroking his gross back, he's going to settle down, maybe hump a little and then fall asleep. Fool.

The monster stirs after a couple of comfortable moments, muttering something incoherent. He stands much too quickly and begins tugging you up as well, expression creased with what you think might be worry.

" What- What are you doing? " His grip on your wrist is uncomfortable when he starts walking out of the bedroom.

He spends his entire ruts making sure you stay in this room, now he's pulling you out? Geez, how many brain cells did he fry this time?

He only starts speaking after you tap him a couple of times. " Need to move! " He hisses, like you're particularly dumb. " ... Another cave. "

Cave...? Oh, the house. Yes.

You try to stand your ground, but given he's holding onto such a delicate part of you, it's not a good idea to pull. If he dislocates or fractures your wrist while in heat, there's no telling when you'd be able to reach a hospital- You can't risk that damage.

" But what's wrong with this one? " Really, you don't see what's wrong about the house for him to be fussing. You only have a couple of night lights on, the place is warm, there's food, he made his nest, what's missing? Is he getting pickier for no reason now?

" Not safe enough! " You're led to the living room while Breg has his weird freak out fit, glancing at the front door.

He must have shut it as he dragged you in, at least that. Unfortunately, your delivery remains outside. Though, in hindsight, if anyone saw that little stunt between you and the irate breeder, there's a pretty good chance they won't be ballsy enough to come fetch it. You certainly wouldn't be.

When it seems the rutting monster is determined to actually go outside, you start offering minimal resistance. Anything could happen with Breg in that state out and about, he could maim someone, he could force you to God knows where, he could fuck you in the streets openly- The scandal would follow you forever. A thousand yard stare settles on your face.

" B- But I think it is? " You have no cards to play with when dealing with a monster in rut. How can you logically counter his points when he's not thinking logically at all?

" NO. " Finally, he releases your wrist, now pacing restlessly, claws dragging over his own arms. He's clearly distressed and angered, but you don't know how to calm him without seemingly making it worse.

" YOU'LL RUN. " The breeder pauses to snarl pointedly in your direction, returning to barely coherent mumbling and frantic pacing shortly after.

Ah. So that's why he thinks it's not safe. Granted, you know damn well you put yourself in this spot. Now you'll have to weasel out of it.

" I- I won't. " Your shaky, tiny voice is extremely convincing, surely. " I p-promise! It- It's alright. "

Breg stops clawing at his arms, mumbling halted, his pacing ends with the monster right in front of you. His looming, tense figure has you fixed on the spot like an ant. Part of you wants to start bawling for help, another desperately wishes to reach out and soothe him.

" You- You liar... " He seethes, glancing between you and the door as you sweat bullets. " You WILL run! I know you will! YOU'LL LEAVE ME- "

His volume startles you again, beneath the anger he's showing, beneath those drooling teeth waaay too close to your face, there's genuine panic in his tone. Almost wheezing for a second. You're momentarily reminded that it's not just you who's at peril here. When Breg gets really aggravated, the way his metabolism kicks up several notches has consequences for him as well. This isn't good for anyone, and in your blindsided excitement about your purchase, you completely forgot that your failed attempts have only been stressing his already overloaded organism out more. Suddenly, a wave of guilt crushes your spirit.

There's not much time to wallow in it, because you're being grabbed. The lack of reaction must have upset the breeder, who's darkened arms clutch your own. " YOU'LL LEAVE. I can't let you leave- Can't let you go- Mates can't escape- YOU NEED ME. " Each rise in intensity has him jostling you back and forth.

Ooh boy, this is not looking good.

You consider opening your mouth to say something, try to appease him by whatever means necessary, but given all of your attempts have failed so far, what's the use? There's got to be another way...

...

"You need me"... Hm, maybe it's not so hopeless.

Keeping your gaze focused on the breeder, you know trying to slip away from his grasp is useless, but your intent is to reach down enough to grasp the hem of your shorts, quietly shimmying the cloth down. At first, the breeder doesn't realize why you're squirming, growling in warning at your perceived attitude, until he has the wit to glance towards the movement, watching you drop the fabric to your ankles and step out of it. His gaze is wholly fixated on your pussylips, a string of drool oozing from the side of his face to the floor. This secret smirk spreads on your face at the state you have him in, feeling mildly flattered even if you know how volatile he is right now.

In an effort to distract the male just a bit more, you part your legs a little, hearing him very clearly snort grossly, inhaling. His grip lessens ever so slightly, and you take advantage of it to start edging your now tattered shirt off. He barely twitches when his arms drop, squatting on the ground like some frog as he edges closer to your pussy, about to stuff his face on it most likely. His members steadily poke out that engorged slit, already soaked in their own precum, more than ready for anything.

Summoning all the bravery you have to stick to your possibly not very bright plan, you tense on the spot, allowing him but one second of calm, before hauling ass. Your goal is not the outside, not at all, you're actually sprinting the way you came from, teeth grit with nerves.

Predictably, it's a very short dash, Breg darted after you not even a second later, hot on your tail enough to physically crash against you on the way inside the bedroom and effectively throwing you onto the nest. You're getting really tired of landing face-down on this thing... But it's exactly what you wanted. Because when the breeder looms over you, hips instinctively slotted against yours, his hand keeping your head still, you get to turn things on their head before he can bark at you.

Quickly, you bump your bare ass against his cocks, making sure to grind and sway like you're the one in heat. You can feel the startling temperature of them on your skin, spreading their slick and his scent on you in a way that makes shivers ripple through you. The movement apparently startles Breg's already muddled brain into stillness again, you can tell he's probably very confused, ping-ponging between irritation and delight.

" Hah, guess you caught me again... " You bullshit, arching your spine beneath the monster as much as you can and bumping harder against him. Breg shudders. " So, will you do something about it this time, or do I have to keep running until my mate fucks me hard? "

Please buy it please buy it holy shit-

There's a chuff above you, you're positive he understood the words perfectly when he makes an excited crooning trill that tapers off into a chirp. He pushes his dicks onto you in response and you know it worked flawlessly the moment he dips to lick from your neck upwards. Good, this is good. Not optimal, but better than getting tossed outside.

The key to making him forget about your stunts is to convince the breeder it was all a sort of "challenge", and to do such, you'll have to keep up this attitude. Sloppy rutting turns into pushing yourself onto him when Breg poorly lines one of his dribbling cocks against your pussy. Having been through this song and dance before, you don't let him get any ideas regarding his twin length, awkwardly reaching beneath you to grasp and gently stroke at whatever parts you could reach.

He's thrilled, but your taste of control is short-lived as soon as he can sheathe himself inside you. It's a stretch, lord knows it always is with him, but he's excited this time, ramming himself. If he wasn't leaking lubrication like a broken faucet, you probably would have gotten hurt. As is, you only scream in surprise, fisting the sheets and ripped curtains beneath you. He moans, low and loud, a cry of pure animal relief. And, perhaps to your chagrin, fulfills your request.

" Hhrk-! "

Not a single second of mercy is spared your way. Breg doesn't care to build you up, his goal is one thing and one thing only, to fuck his cocktease of a mate full of his hatchlings, a fruitless effort. Not that it's ever stopped him from trying, you often get the feeling he desperately thinks he can will a pregnancy into existence, even outside of heat.

The monster on top of you is fast and ruthless, all self-serving thrusts kissing deep into your cunt while his spare cock twitches and occasionally slaps against your mound. It's a far cry from how he usually behaves, obviously, but the novelty of getting the breath quite literally fucked out of you never seems to wear off. Thighs shaking, you can't muster the composure to buck against him very aptly, body wracked with intense waves of pleasurable heat every time the somewhat more pronounced ridges of his fattened girth drag on that spot -Oh, that little spot- That has you sobbing soundlessly. In reality, Breg isn't making any efforts to offer you much, if any, pleasure, but it'd be impossible not to brush against something nice every now and then with this pace. Being used like a favored, dirty little cocksock, all you can do is grit your teeth and try not to drool as much as the monster making a puddle of your neck and hair.

Apparently, Breg begins to get annoyed by the way you'll bounce forward a little too far for his tastes, rumbling. It's really not your fault there's so much horsepower behind those legs, but you'll admit you don't like getting delicious friction disrupted too much either. The monster readjusts, an arm snakes beneath to grab your neck, grip firm but not squeezing, the other captures your right hand under his, your thighs are nudged closer together to trap his unattended dick and finally- Bold teeth latch onto the skin on the back of your neck.

He's done this before, in controlled settings however. You don't think it's a particularly good idea to let Breg's currently sharpened teeth around your neck for long periods of time, so really, the faster he cums, the less danger you're in. It's difficult to think about much of anything when the rutting breeder's pace resumes, this time not as deep but fast enough to make your vision blur, the smack of skin on skin and frantic shared panting putting you in a trance. God, he fucking stinks like this, you can't escape the smell, ever, it's on you now. He growls and occasionally clips out short moans in response to your helpless flexing around his wet cock, surprising you with another chirp.

Ah, precisely. There's something you can use!

Knowing full well you've never been good at it, you cough to clear your throat before attempting, quite poorly, to imitate the sound. You do it twice for good measure, immediately rewarded with an enthusiastic, hard grind that lifts you ever so slightly off the nest while Breg makes a keening sound that melts into a more complex trill. Your eyes roll and you feel yourself cumming hard around him, grunting at the sudden pleasure. Fuck, how do you make that one? He clearly loves it, you have to at least try. Drunk on the afterglow of your orgasm, you let out a series of vaguely similar whistling clicks, not really sure what you're transmitting to the breeder, or caring really.

The monster's hold of your neck tightens enough to make you wince, though the vibrations of his muffled moaning are shamefully arousing as his next series of hard pounds nearly jostle the few contents of your stomach. You know he's cumming when claws dart to hold your hips perfectly still and his head drops on yours, braying out a shameless noise that devolves into harsh puffing and gasping. Naturally, the cock nestled between your now sticky thighs coats your front and the sheets in a stupid amount of pearly cum, making you whine at the feeling while your womb tries to accommodate as much of the other's load as possible- What it inevitably fails to hold having no choice but to ooze and squeeze out, dripping to your front as well.

Long moments pass, though the shaking of your legs only grows, causing Breg to flip you both on your sides before he ends up crushing you. it's gross, you're laying on a small pool of warm seed while he plugs you happily, glancing up to see him smile happily at you through the haze of hormones. Contented and calm, the ideal state. You don't struggle or react much when the male predictably reaches to start tongue-bathing your upper body, merely grimacing at the scent of excess saliva.

Just to make sure things are even and smoothed out between you, you turn slightly, placing a peck on that long neck and chastely licking him back. There's no way you're going to groom him in this gross state, but it appears to be rewarding enough, his tail swatting around violently.

" ... Angel. " He mumbles, head nuzzling yours lazily. " My angel... "

Crisis averted.

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER TWO: WHERE I END YOU BEGIN

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✦ summary: in which reader is upset with eddie for kissing chrissy and more about reader's relationship with billy is revealed. (wc: 5.2k+)

✦ warnings — ANGSTANGSTANGST, pining and slowburn, arguments!!!, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and smoking , eddie is a bit mean, toxic billy!! he's emotionally ab*sive, kinda car accident? but not rlly

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

series masterlist | series playlist

You were sure your entire world had shattered around you. If only you were as cool and collected as you painted yourself out to be, maybe you could get over it. 

Maybe you could get over the fact that Eddie was locking lips with fucking Chrissy. 

You could feel your eyes water, you don’t even know what you mumbled to the two of them before you disappeared off to the backyard.

Nancy, Max and Dustin were too busy in the kitchen to notice anything, but Jonathan had witnessed it all, he wasn’t too far behind you. 

Your hands were clammy as they dug into the back pocket of your jeans, shaking from the anger radiating off your body. It didn’t help when the lighter in your hands caught your attention.

That stupid pink dragon lighter.

The one Eddie specifically painted hot pink right after you told him to do so. And before you knew it, the seething rage consumed you, blood boiling as you threw the lighter in the ground, along with the cigarette on your hand, squishing it with your shoe until it broke apart, tobacco spilling out from the crevices, “Shitshitshit—” you cursed as you stared at the mess you made on the ground.

“Uh-uhm…” Jonathan spoke up, approaching you with caution when you turned around to face him. You slightly huffed as you took another cigarette from your pack, putting it between your lips before Jonathan started speaking.

“You okay?” He asked, the cold look you gave him with the cigarette sitting on your lips was enough for him to throw his hands up in defeat, “Here,” He offered when he reached for his back pocket, offering you a lighter. Murmuring a quick ‘Thank you’ you took it without hesitation, the flame briefly illuminating your face as you lit the cigarette. You knew you were being a bit of a bitch, but you were spiraling, mind fizzling with the thoughts of her all over him. 

“I-I’m fine.” You struggled to get that sentence out, tone betraying you and your eyes were looking anywhere but at Jonathan. You took a deep breath, mind filled with everything that transpired in the last hour, and he eyed you with pity.

“’M sorry, Jon,” You muttered, “I know this is your big weekend and I’m already bringing it down with my stupid drama.” He was quick to shake his head, “Don’t be ridiculous,” He reassured you.

“We’re both really glad you’re here, okay? I know Nance could never get through this weekend without you.” He gave you a slight pat on your back, comforting you further. 

“But what the hell is she even doing here?” You asked, eyes trained toward the sliding door that had the view of Chrissy still giggling at Eddie.

Jonathan swallowed, physically,  “Shit...” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, knowing he was treading on thin ice. “Look, before I tell you this, I should let you know that I don’t think Eddie has any idea of all the shit she said to you during our senior year.” He breathed. 

“So don’t go all you on him yet, yea?” You shrugged, face still sour, you couldn’t promise him anything. It didn’t matter if Eddie didn’t know the whole story; he still knew some of the things she did, and it infuriated you that he still dared to have whatever the fuck they had. Your logic went out the window the second you saw the two of them together; it didn’t matter what Eddie actually knew because it fucking hurt. It hurt to see him be so cold toward you and then snuggle up to Chrissy. 

“You know that gig Eddie’s band had last week?” You nodded curtly, Eddie told you about the gig approximately ten minutes before locking lips with that little traitor.

"Well... Chrissy was at the gig," Jonathan admitted, a heavy sigh escaping him as he braced himself for your reaction. "And they met there, and they've been kinda hanging out since then..." You had never seen Jonathan this nervous, maybe it was the way your gaze turned so icy and intense, or the way your jaw clenched, or your unhinged behavior for the last five minutes.

“Real cute,” You murmured, chuckling dryly, you took another drag from the cigarette sitting between your index fingers as if it were a lifeline.

Jonathan rubbed his forehead stressfully, “Just talk to him…” Your head snapped at him. “I don’t want to,” You replied childishly, earning a scoff from him. 

“Well, I think you’re gonna have to,” He said with a slight snort, causing your attention to divert to where his gaze fell, Eddie was eyeing the two of you as he opened the sliding door, making his way over to you. 

“Fuck off,” You muttered.

“Be nice,” Jonathan warned, brows raising as he brushed past you. He greeted Eddie with a slight pat on the back before he rushed inside, leaving the two of you alone. 

Your eyes rolled unintentionally when Eddie approached your side. You wanted to tell him to fuck off and go find his girlfriend, but you decided to save your petty remarks for later. 

“Got a lighter?” He asked, voice muffled by the cigarette sitting between his lips. You nodded without looking in his direction and pointed toward the ground where you had previously chucked the lighter in a fit. 

Eddie chuckled before he reached down to grab it, freezing the moment he did so. 

Shit shit shit shit.

Was that?

You actually kept it?

"Uh..." he stammered, still caught off guard by the sight of the lighter. "Pink dragon, huh?"

“Hmm?” You hummed, head popping up in his direction to see Eddie holding your lighter, the one he made for you. 

“Oh…yeah.” You replied awkwardly, still unable to meet his gaze fully. 

With the flick of his thumb, Eddie lit his cigarette before handing the lighter back over to you. "You—uh... dropped this," he said, a hopeful smile on his face.

You accepted the lighter but promptly chucked it from his hands with an annoyed 'Thanks,' not in the mood for his nice gesture.

“You were right… Pink dragons are cool.” He tried to gain your attention, but you just hummed again.

“Jesus…” He sighed. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked cluelessly.

Was he joking? Or was he just trying to get back at you?

You chuckled dryly. “No… no… You just kissed my sworn enemy, is all.” You narrowed your eyes childishly.

“Sworn enemy?” He quirked a brow. “What are you, five?”

“Yeah.” 

“She tried to hook up with your boyfriend five years ago, Pinky… Are you really holding a grudge for some shitty mistake she made when she was a teenager?”

Oh.

Jonathan was right; he thought this was just about Billy. So he didn’t know a fucking thing. But that excuse wasn’t enough to quell the seething rage fueling inside of you. 

“You don’t know what you are talking about—” 

“If you’re still holding onto things that happened five years ago, then what about me?” He threw his hands up angrily, interrupting you. 

Jesus fucking Christ. It boggled your mind how quickly your conversations went from calm to angry now, and it made you realize how bitter both of you have become. How unrecognizable he was to you now because you had made him this way. It was all your fucking fault, and those anxious voices in your head echoed the same sentiment, making you feel smaller with each passing moment. 

“What should I fuckin’ do?” He spat.

You weren’t emotionally or physically ready to delve into this now, especially not after seeing him kiss Chrissy. You did want to talk to him eventually, but not like this; there had to be a way to talk about you leaving him without reopening your own wounds. You couldn’t handle that.  

“Should I tear you a new one for leaving me all alone in LA?” 

“Don’t…” You warned, eyes getting glossy just at the mention.

“Don’t what? Tell the fuckin’ truth." He shot back, frustration and resentment coursing through his words.

“Why do I have to protect your feelings when you were so fucking careless about mine?” He was supposed to sound angry, but you could hear the emotion in his tone, his voice slightly cracking as you avoided his gaze.

“You don’t have any fucking idea what you’re talking about, Eddie—” You yelled back.

Eddie wasn't willing to let it go, “Then tell me!” He demanded, a note of desperation in his voice.

“I didn’t come here to do this! To talk about… Jesus.” You sighed, fingers rubbing your temples to relieve the headache this day was giving you.

"Look, Eddie," you began, your tone softening slightly, "I'm here for Nancy and Jonathan, and them only. I know that's why you're here too. I don't want to cause them any more drama than I already have, okay?" Your voice was calm, but the frustration still simmered beneath the surface.

“You—you’re so frustrating.” Eddie breathed.

“You do realize that the whole fucking world doesn’t revolve around you, right?” He added.

With a heavy sigh, you gathered your belongings and stood up abruptly. “Fine!” You exclaimed.

“I’ll be the mature one.” You heaved a sigh, leaving without turning to look back at him, mind tuning out whatever he was saying to you.

When you returned back inside, you could feel Max and Nancy’s curious gaze on you, and you could practically feel Jonathan's stolen glances as he conversed with the rest of Eddie's band and Chrissy.

Her obnoxious laugh was grating on your last nerve; you were being bitter and jealous, and it certainly was not a good look on you. You bit the inside of your cheek when you threw her a glance, the metallic taste of blood flooding your senses, and before you knew it, her annoying cackle came to an abrupt halt as she sensed your gaze, swallowing physically before she followed you. 

Your eyes involuntarily rolled when you felt Chrissy's fingers gently tapping your shoulder. Slowly, you turned to face her. "Hey," she murmured, her eyes avoiding yours as if she couldn't bear to meet your gaze.

“Hey,” You bit back on your tongue; if you didn’t, you’d say a whole lot of things you were sure you’d regret.

“Can—can we talk? In private?” Her eyes met yours now; you could see the emotions they held, but you couldn’t care now.

Why did you always have to care about how other people felt? They’d hurt you just fine; why couldn’t you even do one ounce of the same thing to them? Why was it always you who had to embrace the pain and guilt, while everyone else was absolved of them?

“I—I can’t,” You didn’t mean to stutter, but it was so hard to lie when she was this close to your face that you hurried off to Nancy and Max’s side without another word. 

“You okay?” Nancy asked in a concerned tone. 

“I’m fine!” You waved her off, the crack in your voice and your glossy eyes were enough proof of that being a lie, but they left it alone, nodding understandingly as Nancy gave you a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. 

“I—I think I just need to go home and rest for a bit… That okay with you?” The gentleness of your voice was aching both of them; it had barely been a few hours since you got to Hawkins, and all you had was that pout on your face. 

“Of course!” Nancy replied without hesitation. 

“You need a ride?” You asked, turning to Max.

She shook her head quickly. “I’ve got a car.” She pointed toward the Camaro sitting in the garage. You clearly missed it for some reason. 

“Oh.” You accidentally blurted out, that Camaro was just nightmare fuel for you now, and you wished you had never seen it again. “Right—uh… I forgot you have a license now.” You added with a silly smile stuck to your lips, wanting to change the topic.

“Do you need anything else?” You asked, your tone shifting back to one of genuine care as you turned to face Nancy. She shook her head, a warm smile gracing her lips.

“You sure?” You raised your brows.

“Stop worrying about me!” Nancy playfully exclaimed.

“I’m fine, I swear I’m fine. Mom’s calling me every few minutes to make sure everything is perfect, trust me, she’s taking care of everything.” You nod silently, a smile almost gracing your lips, when she chides you, god, you had missed this small idiotic town. 

“Pinky, when I made you my maid of honor... I didn’t do it because I wanted you to handle the wedding plans. I honestly would actually rather you stay out of it, you’re pretty bad at planning.” You let out a slight dramatic gasp at her words, causing her to huff. 

“Let me get to my point!” She gave you a knowing look. 

“I did it because you are the closest person to me, because I don’t want someone who’s good at planning with me at the wedding, I can do that myself. I want my person by my side. I want you. You’re my family… like a half-Wheeler.” You chuckle, accepting the reassuring grip she has on your hand. 

You give her a nod, silently returning the things she said to you, thanking her and telling her you love her, and she understands, accepts it, and translates your emotions without you opening your mouth. 

“So, I’m assuming you don’t need anything?” You asked with a sheepish smile, causing Nancy to narrow her eyes. 

“Just go!” She orders. “Okay, okay!” 

“I’m going.” You huffed, not realizing Chrissy was behind you again. 

“Can we please just talk?” She was begging at this point, but the last thing you wanted to do was be in close proximity to her. You sighed deeply, your patience running thin. “I have to go, Chrissy.”

“Wait—just five minutes, please,” Chrissy breathed, the desperation in her voice making you huff and turn around to face her. Your mouth slightly opened as if you were about to cuss her out, and if you didn’t shut it tight, something about Eddie was going to slip out.

But right then, of course, Eddie fucking Munson stepped into the picture, slinging an arm over Chrissy’s shoulder before throwing you a daggering look.

You couldn’t tell if Eddie was doing this to piss you off or that he had genuinely started caring about Chrissy in what? A fucking week?

Your guilt against him was turning into rage, and you didn’t know how to handle it. Each of your hands itched to separate them, make sure he didn’t touch her, and make sure they stayed the fuck away from each other.

But this was about Nancy and Jonathan; you weren’t going to cause a scene, and you were going to play nice, at least until you couldn’t handle it.

“I think you’re fine,” You said bitterly, trying to ignore the jealousy burning your insides, and your insecurities were quick to seep into your skin, making you feel worthless.

“No… wait,” Chrissy called out, but you didn’t give them another look.

“See you at Steve’s tomorrow,” You muttered to Nancy as you passed by her, your tears were burning at this point; if you didn’t go home soon, you were going to explode.

As soon as you ran to your car, of course only one thing had your attention. 

The Camaro. 

FIVE YEARS AGO.

The sound coming from the engine was loud—so loud that over Billy’s screams, you could hear it roaring, terrifying you further. Max was in the back, holding on for dear life, when you were gripping your seat, attempting to stay calm to avoid scaring her further. Billy’s screams filled the silence of the car, and his thumbs tapped along to the song ‘Wango Tango’ as he hummed to it. He had been angry ever since the two of you had a fight during lunch break. 

You thought he would’ve calmed down by now, but the way he was driving told you otherwise. You wanted to scream, yell, and tell him to slow down, but no words dared to come out of your mouth when the speed of the car was still rising. Your grip on the car seat was so tight that you could feel your nails painfully digging through it. You always seemed to freeze when Billy got angry, feeling helpless, as did Max.

“Would you look at that?” He hummed excitedly, pointing towards a van, and your head was quick to cock in the direction he pointed, eyes squinting before you realized who the car belonged to.

You could recognize that set of curly hair and that messy van from anywhere, and your eyes widened. Eddie was standing two cars ahead of you. “Billy…” You called out his name as Max’s head popped up at your shaky voice. Realizing what was going to happen, you stood frozen.

“Isn’t that the freak of Hawkins, huh?” Billy smirked, nudging your shoulder. Your eyes were focused on the road, and as Billy was pushing the gas with all the force he had, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“You always hang out with that asshole at school, yea? Let’s see if he wants to see you after too, huh?” He smirked, with a harsh steer of the wheel, he passed the car in front of him, shaking the three of you. 

Your nails dug further into your seat. “Billy, this is not funny.” You screeched while Billy gave you another chuckle, almost as if he was enjoying it.

“Billy.” You spoke up again to get his attention, but he just faked a pout at your terrified face as he kept tapping his fingers to the rhythm of Wango Tango.

“Stop it, Billy!” You yelled this time; your heart was pounding in your ears, and your hands were shaking with fear as you attempted to gain his attention.

The loud noises Billy provided and the roaring engine of the car caused Max to sink into her seat, covering her ears in an attempt to drown out all the voices. 

That sight of her alone made your blood boil. You turned to Billy with a roll of your eyes. “Will you stop?” You asked, eyes fiery, but your voice remained calm; you were still afraid of aggravating him further. 

“Stop what, baby?” Billy said in a mocking tone, his feet further digging into the gas as the speed of the car rose again. He gave you another playful smirk. 

Your eyes squinted in fury; the anger bubbling inside of you was getting harder to ignore, and with just one car ahead you knew he was getting closer to Eddie. 

“Stop it,” you said with a stern voice this time, fingers still shakily holding onto your seat. But he ignored you once again.

“Billy fucking stop it.” You warned with your raised voice, heartbeat picking up when he steered the wheel harshly to pass the other car standing between him and Eddie. 

This was like some fucked up dick measuring contest to him; he didn’t even fucking care that Max was in the car, possibly having a panic attack in the back.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your clammy hands pounded against his shoulders in an attempt to get his attention, but he was still mocking you, singing along to the song loudly.

All of it made a buzzing sound to Max; she was used to this by now, from her parents and from the two of you. So she shut all of it off, covering her ears, watching almost in slow motion as you kept on hitting Billy, pleading with him to stop.

He was getting closer and closer, and you nervously bit your lips, legs bouncing up and down since you knew Eddie probably had no fucking idea because of how careless he was when he drove with that metal music blasting through his speakers. 

“I told you to fucking stop!” You screeched again, face feeling hot as you repeated it like a mantra. Your whole body tensed as you looked back on the road and saw how close he had gotten to Eddie’s car. He was probably still oblivious, and anxiety gnawed at your insides. You needed to do something, and you needed to do it now.

Your head turned to the side of the road, gaze stuck on how it was mainly grass. Maybe if you could turn the car off the road...

You looked back at Max to make sure she had her seatbelt on and was safe in her seat. You didn’t care if your idea was stupid or careless; your logic went out the window the second you saw how willing Billy was to hurt Eddie in any fucking way. 

With a deep breath, you quickly grabbed a hold of the wheel. With no other idea in mind, you forcefully turned it off the road, shaking the three of you in an instant. Your head hit the back of your seat, but you didn’t care. Eddie was safe.

Billy cursed you out and stepped on the pedal with force. The impact was hard on you, but again, you didn’t care; he couldn’t possibly hurt Eddie now.

Billy’s stupid song on the radio was all that filled the car now, and all you could do was groan. Your head was pounding when you tried to face Max, she was curled up in a ball, shaking like a leaf, and that sight alone was enough for the fear jolting through your entire body to turn into rage.

What the actual fuck was wrong with him?

Feeling suffocated, you quickly opened the door. With a quick struggle, you managed to get out, inhaling a deep breath as the fresh air around you provided you with a little sense of comfort.

But it didn’t matter. You were out of his car, and Eddie was safe.

You dropped your hands to your knees, breathing raggedly as you attempted to calm yourself, ignoring the sound of Billy exiting the car and slamming the door shut rather loudly, cursing you out.  

Your head perked up in anger, and your eyes were livid as you rushed to his side. He was still in shock when you pushed him by his shoulders harshly. Your tears were now escaping freely when the realization of what happened hit you.

“What is wrong with you?” Your voice was loud, and you were a babbling mess with how much you were sobbing. Billy stood still while he hollowed his cheeks in anger, waiting for your tantrum to be over.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You repeated, and your hands were quick to pound against his chest again, but before you could make any contact, he grabbed both of your wrists in an instant, causing you to look up at him with glossy eyes.

“Me?” Billy asked, chuckling ironically. “You drove the fucking car out of the road! And you’re fucking asking me what is wrong?” He let go of your wrists harshly as he rubbed his hands against his cheek. A humorless smile played on his lips as he let out a short chuckle that burned with anger and resentment.

“Are you insane, Billy?” You asked; you were still yelling, but now your tone was more composed, and your tears were drying out. “Are you fucking crazy?” You asked, not expecting an answer.

“You were going to get us killed! You… you were going to get him killed!” Your muscles tensed.

He laughed sarcastically, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s about him, isn’t it?” He pinched his brows together, taking a step closer toward you. “You got mad because it was that asshole Munson kid, wasn’t it?” His jaw was clenched, but this time it felt like his anger had turned to hurt.

“Oh, my god.” You chuckled ironically, your hands hitting your forehead in disbelief. “Are you kidding me, are you fucking kidding me, Billy?” You asked, genuinely this time.

“Billy, you could have hurt us! You could have hurt Max! You scared the shit out of her!” You yelled, and Max’s head perked up.

“This isn’t about Eddie, Billy. This is about you acting like a fucking maniac!” You were shaking with anger.

His voice, once filled with anger, softened into a gentle tone as he realized the impact he had on you.

You were afraid of him.

And a wave of guilt washed over him, the familiar wobble of your lips reminding him of his mom, a sense of déjà vu overwhelming him completely and leaving him feeling small and ashamed. “Are you okay?” His anger had disappeared on a whim now.

Your eyes were fixated on the ground now, lips pursed as you were unable to give him an answer. Billy heaved a sigh, ignoring all of what you had said. “Let’s just… let’s get going.” He murmured; his anger was now washed away with sadness, something you rarely saw Billy in. The realization that you were afraid of him tore at his conscience and ate away at him.

He attempted to softly grab your arm, but you withheld, “No! I’m not getting in that car with you.” You yelled, face souring.

“Baby, just... please.” His voice was soft, it was boggling how fast he could go from scaring the shit out of you to being soft all over again.

The nickname further angered you; he didn’t get to use it to soften you after what he did. “No, Billy, you almost fucking hurt us!” You exclaimed.

You breathed before you continued your rant, “I’m done trying to help you, trying to help you do better, because you’re a selfish fuck who does whatever he wants!” You screeched. “You don’t even care who you hurt in the process, Billy! Look at Max, fucking look at her!” You were screaming the last words, and your sobs had returned, Billy was stunned in front of you.

He took a step back, his eyes filled with regret, and he reached out to gently hold your trembling hands, but you flinched.

He swallowed hard; the weight of his guilt threatened to crush him. He finally saw that familiar mix of fear and vulnerability in your eyes, you always looked at him like that after an argument. 

He squeezed his eyes shut to avoid any tears, and to escape the guilt, he couldn’t cry—no, not in front of you. “Just leave me the fuck alone, Billy.” You spat out while Max was still watching from afar.

“I’m… sorry.” Billy let out weakly and you scoffed at him, knowing that sorry would not fix anything that he just did, you turned your back around to start walking away from him. “Please… just come with me, I can’t leave you here.” He pleaded desperately; you had never heard him like this before, and you were doing everything in your willpower to not turn around.

“I’ll… Fuck—I’ll drive slow, okay?” His voice rang in your ears, but you didn’t care; you were going to keep walking away from him and his anger.

At least that was your plan, until Max finally opened her car door.

“Please, just come with us…” She murmured, her tone so meek and afraid that you couldn’t bear to say no to her. 

You didn’t want to leave her alone with Billy. You heaved a sigh of breath, her second ‘Please’ stopping you dead in your tracks before you turned around to meet her fearful eyes. 

You looked back at Billy with a spiteful look, almost to let him know that this was only for her, then you walked back to the car.

The ride home was filled with a dreadful silence, Billy stole a few glances at you to make sure you were okay, your eyes remained on the road, and Max fiddled with her fingers as she pretended to listen to her Walkman.

When he dropped you off that day, you were sure that was the last time you were going to be with Billy.

But as usual, your promises to yourself meant nothing; you couldn’t help but soften immediately when Billy held you as you sobbed in his arms, his fingertips gently caressing your face as he kissed away your sadness, tasting your salty tears on his tongue.

It was always messy. But everything with him was messy. His calloused hands wrapped around your frame tightly, but still, his kisses were gentle.

The fights always ended with you in his arms, bodies wrapped around each other, as he murmured compliments in your ear, affirming how much he loved you and how afraid he was of losing you.

This was the Billy that only you get to see, and it was different compared to the Billy he portrayed himself to be in public; he was still filled with anger, and he was still an asshole, but he always knew what to say to get you hooked on him, and he treated you with kid gloves whenever he noticed how he had fully broken you.

It was a cycle at this point, each time getting worse as Billy’s anger got more uncontrollable. He would get mad at you, it would turn into a full blown argument, and you would be a sobbing, blabbering mess. When he realized how much he had fucked up, he would finally soften, trying to mend what he had ruined. It was a cycle you didn’t dare get out of, suffocating you further.

NOW.

 He would always talk about how afraid he was that he would turn into his father. What a fucking joke, you thought to yourself, wanting to laugh at the irony of that asshole. That haunting memory replayed in your head like some kind of a never-ending nightmare. Your mind was playing tricks on you, and you couldn’t help it. By the time you got home, the only thing you could do was plop yourself on your bed.

Tears streaming down your cheeks weren’t any of your concern; the dusty and mess filled house should’ve been, but all you could do was lay down and let it all out. 

You fell asleep like that, laying in a fetal position, sobbing until your tears dried out. And that’s the last thing you remembered before you heard a faint thud. 

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Your head snapped up quickly at the sound, groaning as you curiously headed to the source of the annoying tapping noise.

Something—or rather, someone was tapping something against your window and you were going to give them a piece of your fucking mind—

You approached the window furiously, almost yanking the sheer curtains as you saw that curly head, and you knew instantly. 

Eddie?

You opened the window with a roll of your eyes. “Are you insane?!?” You yelled, getting his attention before he threw another rock.

“Thank fucking god! I thought you were dead!” He yelled back, huffing as your face appeared in the window.

“What?” 

“I called your landline like a thousand times!” He breathed; He was wearing one of his own band tees, a guitar pick was adorning his neck, and his curls were more defined now. And you hated how the first thing you thought was how good he looked.

“I haven’t been here in five years, you doofus! I don’t think it even works.” You shook your head, and even though the two of you were supposed to be mad at each other, you couldn’t help it when your lips etched into a smile.

You ruffled your hands through your hair, he threw the pebbles he had in his hand to the ground, dusting them off before he turned his attention to you. “C’mon, let’s go.” His voice lowered this time, eyes hopeful and so beautifully brown that you wanted to drown in their warmth.

“What?” You asked, a baffled look overtaking your features.

“I want to take you somewhere.” He shrugged, head hanging high to keep your gaze.

You sighed. “Eddie, what are you–”

He groaned. “Just get in.” He almost sounded demanding, and your brows pinched together before he muttered out a “Please.”

He could hear your grunts before you closed the window, cursing him out as you hurried off for a change of clothes.

You didn’t know what the fuck the two of you were going to do, but it didn’t matter.

Eddie wanted to take you somewhere, and now you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered. Because it meant something, it meant that this could be fixed. That there was still some hope. 

[sapphic-serenade]

Selfish

pairing: Atsushi x AFAB!cat!reader plot: You ask Atsushi to leave work early to help satiate your heat, and he does just that. word count: 2.2k contains: Reader has a cat ability similar to Atsushi's, reader and Atsushi are both in heat, reader and Atsushi are both using their abilities, established relationship, missionary, mating press, biting, tit sucking, unprotected sex, possessiveness, breeding kink, probably a lot of inaccuracies (virgin moment, sry), lmk if I missed anything a/n: Well well well my first one! I hope you guys enjoy it~ feedback is appreciated and encouraged!

Atsushi would never want to admit this, just because of how terrible it sounded, but he was being selfish. So, so selfish, but also so selfless at once.

He did what he always did when he had to leave for work before you'd woken up- plant a small kiss on your forehead, leave a small note on the table, grab his pre-packed lunch that you'd prepared the previous night and leave. Yet, he felt off. Everything at the Agency was business as usual too—his coworkers, the clients, even down to the workload—still, he couldn't shake off the physical discomfort he was experiencing.

Atsushi knew it probably wasn't the best idea to try and go to work during his heat, especially since you were also going through it at the same time, but neglecting what he considered to be one of his moral duties just felt scummy, especially for the sake of his own lust.

Still, he was having a hard time. Though he knew that his job was an important one that absolutely demanded his full attention, the memory of your sleeping figure lingered in the back of his mind. The sweet scent that hung around your almost-nude, warm body, plastered in a thin sheen of sweat...the simple thought was enough to make him hard within seconds. He'd barely even held back from waking you up to have a quick round of morning sex before work.

He thought it would be best for the both of you if he tried to stave off his urges until he got home, difficult as it may have been. Unfortunately, nature doesn't quite like when you go against it so brazenly.

At home, you were curled up in bed, feeling lonely as ever. Your libido was through the roof, and yet you couldn't do a single thing about it. Your fingers, while being an adequate option at any other time of the month, certainly wouldn't be able to get you through your heat. You needed your partner; needed him to plunge his cock as deep into you as it could go and fuck you senseless until you were full with his seed. Atsushi's scent hung on the sheets on his side of the bed, and you rolled over to cuddle his pillow. You were hot, unbearably so, and all you could think about was Atsushi. You felt like you'd die if you weren't stuffed with his cum soon.

Panting heavily, eyes tearing up, you reached over to grab your phone from your bedside table, your clammy hand almost dropping it on the ground. Clenching your teeth, you opened messages and scrolled to Atsushi's contact.

You almost hesitated to text him. Would making him leave work just to come and fuck you be selfish? At the very least, anybody else would deem it unnecessary. But they weren't writhing in their beds, naked and yet sweltering, feeling like they could burst at any moment. They didn't have any abilities that only exacerbated the discomfort, making them even more sensitive to sound and touch. They didn't know what Atsushi was capable of.

Biting your lip, you clumsily typed in three simple words and pressed 'send'.

Atsushi, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, pulled it out and saw the singular notification.

i need you

Atsushi, in what would have certainly been considered unusual by everyone else, stood up without a word and made his way to the door, taking nothing and nobody else with him. It was as if he couldn't hear the objections of everyone else, or even the simple 'Where are you going's.

He was probably gonna get in trouble for it, but he'd long since tuned out any common sense by that point in favour of thinking about you and you alone.

This was selfish of him. Though he knew that coming home and having sex with you would undeniably make you feel better, it was ultimately for himself that he'd left work that day. He craved the feeling of your welcoming, wet pussy far too much, wanting nothing more than to completely fill you to the brim. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

The trip wasn't far, thank god. Atsushi didn't even take the time to remove his shoes when he got home, instead pulling them off haphazardly on the way to your shared bedroom.

When he soon burst through the door and laid eyes on you, he could have came right then and there.

You were stark naked in bed, desperately rutting against his pillow as soft whimpers left your mouth. Your feline ears and tail were on full display, twitching as if you were about to explode from the discomfort. Your red face was half buried in the blanket, your fangs sinking into the material like a teething toy as your catlike eyes were slightly glazed over beneath furrowed brows. When they saw him, you lifted your head and let out a small mewl.

"Atsushi..." you wailed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "I'm sorry-"

"Y/N," he choked out, before shaking his head and approaching you. "Don't be sorry."

"I just...ngh-"

"I'm here, baby," he huffed as he yanked at his tie, climbing onto the bed. "I'm here now."

"'Sushi..." you whined, rolling over and exposing your sore, swollen tits to him. “I need you…”

"I- god, I need you too-" Atsushi hurriedly replied, crawling so that he was hovering over you. He immediately smashed his lips onto yours and your arms wrapped around his neck, effectively keeping your faces trapped together. You quickly parted your lips, allowing his tongue inside your mouth, and already you felt as if you could cum from his hungry, possessive kisses.

Atsushi finally pulled off his tie, and the pair of you hastily unbuttoned his shirt and trousers, pulling them all off until he was only clad in his underwear. His erection wasn't at all hidden, especially not when Atsushi grinded it against your wet cunt as he kissed you. The friction of the now-wet fabric made you whine into the kiss.

"C'mon, Atsushi..." you murmured, reaching down to grab the waistband of his underwear. "Please fuck me."

When you opened your eyes, you were met with Atsushi's golden, tiger ones staring back at you. His ears, tail, claws and fangs had appeared too, making him appear larger as he hovered above you. Atsushi obliged, helping you pull down his underwear so his cock sprung free, before tossing them somewhere across the room. You took his already-leaking dick in your hand, earning a hiss from your partner, and pumped it a couple of times. The tip was red and would have been very sensitive, but you didn't have time to tease him today. You just wanted him inside you as soon as possible.

Atsushi pulled back so that he was perched in between your thighs, and lined up his cock with your entrance. He prodded your pussy with his tip, gathering some of your slick, before looking into your eyes.

"Are you ready?" His grip on your hips tightened slightly.

"Yeah," you nodded, swallowing. "Please..."

You both let out loud moans as he finally sank into you, your wetness acting as a more-than-adequate lubricant. Atsushi did his best to savour the moment, slowly pushing his cock deeper, but the feeling of your pussy clenching him was too much to bear. You wailed as he bottomed out, the sudden pleasure coursing through your veins and leaving you shaky already.

Atsushi wasted no time, pulling all except his tip out and then slamming back into you. Your apartment wasn't a big and nice one, so your walls weren't exactly soundproof, but your judgement was too clouded to worry about the repercussions of your loud, borderline pornographic screams.

It was messy. Your kisses were sloppy, sweaty bodies colliding against each other in the most passionate round of sex the two of you had had in a long time. It was always like that during your heats. Your claws dug into Atsushi's back, scratching at his skin, struggling to keep a steady hold. His hands had an iron grip on your waist, leaving little red marks in your soft skin.

"'Sushi- shit-" you groaned, tossing your head back onto the pillow, overwhelmed with pleasure. "Ah, so good!"

"Yeah? You—fuck—you like that, beautiful?" He breathed, his eyes locked on your gratified, fucked-out face.

"Please, more!" You managed to gasp in response. "Want more...!"

Atsushi's mouth made its way down your neck, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses and love bites all across your collarbones and shoulders. He focused especially on your sensitive areas, fangs grazing over your sweet spots before burying into your skin. You moaned and whimpered with each new marking he gave you, making his dick twitch inside of you.

"Mm, so fuckin' gorgeous, baby..." he muttered against your skin, "Gorgeous, and all mine, yeah?"

Usually Atsushi didn't talk like this, his tone being more gentle and less vulgar, but he simply couldn't help himself. Not as he watched the bites that he gave you blossom into pretty little hickeys, marks that indicated that you were his, and he was yours. He increased his speed.

"Yeah- ah- all yours, babe-" you were interrupted by another bite, which made you cry out in pain and pleasure. The combination of feelings felt amazing, and you found it getting increasingly harder to talk properly. You reached a hand up behind one of his tiger ears, dragging your claws over the area. You felt Atsushi's body tremble above you for barely a second before he hissed.

"Fuck, Atsushi, give it all to me," you moaned through his thrusts, "Gimme a whole litter, c'mon..."

It was as if something inside him snapped. It wasn't that he didn't like the idea, but rather that he might have liked it a little too much.

Before you knew it, your body was folded in half as Atsushi's cock prodded against your cervix, making you see stars. He was so deep, hitting all of the most pleasurable spots that nobody else would ever reach. His clawed hands pinned your ankles next to your head as he thrusted at an inhumane speed, courtesy of his ability. You couldn't contain your wails, barely able to form any coherent thoughts let alone speak.

"'Sushi-!" you babbled over and over in unison with the headboard slamming against the wall. Atsushi leaned down and took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it. The pleasure was almost too much for your body to handle, and you could feel yourself getting close. "Right fucking there, yes...!"

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he lifted his head, his lips connected to your breast with a thin string of saliva. "Gonna fill you with my cubs, make us a family..."

You merely moaned in response, as you felt the coil in your lower stomach tightening further and further, until it finally snapped.

You didn't breathe for a moment as your orgasm washed over your entire being, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You didn't think you'd ever felt so good before. From your cunt all the way to your fingertips and toes, the electric feeling rushed through you, making you writhe and gasp in pure satisfaction. Atsushi continued to relentlessly pound into you, and you could tell as you rode through your high that he was getting close too.

A few intense seconds passed by before he let out a guttural grunt and you felt his warm load shoot deep into you, painting your walls white. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, buried as far as it could fit, and he let out a raspy moan at the sensation.

"Ah, god, Y/N..." he whispered, as he slowly thrusted a couple more times, shooting out more cum before calming down from his own high. "Did so good f'me, baby..."

"Mmh..." Atsushi slowly helped you lower down your legs, but not before pressing a few sneaky kisses to your calves. He didn't pull out, not wanting his cum to spill out of your hole, but instead tilted his head back and let out a long sigh.

"Gonna stay inside, okay?" He asked, and you nodded. With the little strength you had left, you reached up and caressed his jaw with a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry I made you leave work early."

"Hm?" He glanced down at you, taking your hand in his own. "Don't be- this was so worth leaving work for."

You chuckled at his words.

"Thanks, Atsushi, for this. I love you so much, you know that?"

With a smile, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. His fingers softly brushed over your stomach.

"I love you too." Atsushi breathed, his voice lighter than air. Feeling his breath fan against your swollen lips, you cupped his cheeks in your hands.

"Do you..." you paused for a moment. "Do you actually think that it took, just now?" Atsushi raised an eyebrow at your question, before his lip curled up.

"I don't know. Maybe, just in case..." he cut himself off by kissing you again, and you then noticed his cock inside of you, hardening once more. You smiled into the kiss, knowing that the two of you were gonna be there for a while.

MDNI banner: @/benkeibear

Tagging: @gettinshiggywithit @pillow-princess-diaries

(Please shoot me an ask or a DM if you'd like to join my taglist!)

[rorysbrainrot]

Headcanons for Lorenzo Berkshire

• He doesn’t have the best grades, but he does try hard.

• With his mother being Bellatrix. I think her main focus would be on Mattheo, so Lorenzo always shows her what he did better than Mattheo on.

• He is incredibly cocky like the rest of the “Slytherin boys”, since he is a Berkshire, a wealthy pure blood

• He doesn’t really have opinions on Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, but the way he grew up around people who weren’t to fond on Gryffindors it wouldn’t be a house he likes. (Same as Theo’s)

• Most of his crushes would probably be Slytherins.

• Slytherin Keeper, joined in 5th year.

• Has a strained relationship with his father, and tries to please his mother even if she’s ashamed of him.

• He likes someone who is sweet and willing to do outgoing activities with him.

• Is probably one of the nicest out of his group of friends, but still incredibly arrogant.

• Doesn’t get into fights much, but if he really has something against you, he’ll bully you to know end.

• Loves fish, all types.

• Excessive skincare routine, like 30 steps.

• Will flirt with anything that breathes, very flirty.

• Best dressed out of everyone he’s friends with, but is oddly attracted to people who tend to not go over the top. Like more into comfy than nice.

• Favorite color is definitely light green or grey.

• In 3rd year he secretly has a crush on Fred Weasley because Fred winked at him once while passing him in the halls.

——————x——————x——————x——————x——————x

Lorenzo Berkshire as a boyfriend

• Would be a bit awkward with physical touch at the beginning of the relationship; unless you had something going on before the dating started.

• Boys you anything he sees you glance at, one look in that general direction and he’s in the checkout line.

• Would sneak up behind you and give you small kisses anywhere on your skin, neck, cheek, temple, jaw, etc’.

• If you aren’t a Slytherin would have you sit next to him at his house table anyways, if you are he would walk down with you and serve your food.

• Always invites you to come study with him in the library.

• Calls His partner Sweetheart, Sweetie, honey or love/lovey.

• The second he confirms you both love each other he’s planning your future, house, kids, pets, etc’.

• Stares at you randomly throughout the day.

• Always wants to be holding your hand. (I think he would have somewhat clammy hands, so when you let go he gets whiny.)

• When he gets whiny, be it in class or just hanging out he will want to cuddle you immediately, making sure you won’t leave and holding you in his arms.

• Likes to see you with his coat on, so his favorite month is winter just so he could give it to you.

——————x——————x——————x——————x——————x

His Red Flags 🚩

• Would feel so conflicted if his mother didn’t approve of you.

• He doesn’t like you talking to other guys (or girls).

• Hypocrite, he flirts with other people all the time; when you ask him to stop he says he will, but doesn’t.

• If he doesn’t like your friends will try to get you to stop hanging out with them.

• If you’re a muggle born, he would refuse to learn anything about muggles or lula want to meet your family.

• Hates you having friends that you’re super close to, like if he sees you and your best-friend since 1st year, holding hands or touching each other he would get really jealous.

• Gets jealous so easily.

• Most definitely has clammy hands.

——————x——————x——————x——————x——————x

-I don’t say anything about the characters sexuality, due to the fact I don’t know the gender of my audience.-

[the-kr8tor]

hihi!! I hope you're having a great day and a new year!

I have a small fic request (u can take it any other forms u want, all up to you!) Can I request a fic where reader asked Hobie if he would rather elope instead of a normal wedding? Since he doesn't like the idea of getting marriage (My hc by the way). Eloping is still kinda like a wedding but just the two of them! No loud music, not alot of money spent etc etc! U can write on how they would do it!

(also I'd like to imagine this is them getting 'enganged' before having the twins HEEHHEHEHE) (i hope this isn't too much) (i would love to see on how you'd write this!!)

reader can be gn or FEM btw :)

Thank you for the adorable request 😘

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Brown/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Tags: No use Y/N, no specific description of the reader (r is mentioned wearing makeup though), lovestruck Hobie, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Hobie watches you sing with the band that's currently playing further away on stage. He dragged you out behind all the crowd so you could properly enjoy the concert without getting elbowed by someone. He doesn't mind standing that far from the stage since he gets to see you dance unabashedly when there aren't a lot of people this far back.

The music isn't that loud from where you're both standing, helping Hobie hear your singing, providing a front row seat to your very own concert. He thinks you deserve top billing from how you belt out the lyrics.

The strobe lights illuminate your face, lighting up your best features, add it up with the moonlight shining directly at you like your very own spotlight, he can't get his eyes off you, lips softly smiling, fondness seeping out from his pores.

You feel his stare before you feel his featherlight touch atop your arm, knuckles brushing on your skin, goosebumps spreading through them like fire.

Grinning at him, you wipe sweat off your brow, guessing the summer heat has probably melted all of your makeup, thinking that you look worse for wear.

“Yeah, Hobs?” He once hated that nickname but with you saying it, it might as well be his given name. He loves it if it's you who says it.

Hobie has never seen you look so beautiful even with your mascara running down your cheeks. He's seen you at your worst, loved you more through it, and will continue to love you through your best too.

He loops his pinky around yours, clammy hands meeting equally clammy skin. He blames the weather for the lack of physical affection, if it weren't for the heat he'd be embracing you like a boa constrictor, taking your breath away without devouring you for dinner of course.

“You okay? You look like you're about to pass out. Do you want to sit down for a minute?”

His next words shocks you both.

“I have no idea where we go from here.”

“What?” You chuckle nervously. Maybe you should've worn waterproof mascara. “What are you saying, Hobie?” You forgo his pinky, opting to hold both his hands instead.

Your frown tells him he should've thought this through.

“Sorry,” he laughs shakily, none of the usual Hobie charisma you're used to. “I meant, fuck this is hard.” he's sweating, why did he decide to wear leather vest and heavy boots in this heat? He blames the weather for his shortcomings.

Your heart falls in your stomach. “Are you…are you breaking up with me?” words barely strung together with your tongue tied up.

“What? No!” Hobie backtracks in a split second. “No, love, that's not what I meant.” shaking his head, he removes his hands from yours, deepening your frown.

In an attempt to fix his blunder, he cups your face, thumbs rubbing just under your eyes, spreading the dark ink all over your skin. He definitely needed to think it all through.

Tears start rolling down your cheeks, mascara running with the wetness, turning you into one of the heavy metal band mates that played a couple hours ago.

“Shit!” He roams his face around the concert hall, not knowing how to fix the situation.

“What did you really mean, Hobie?” You sob, balling his shirt in your hands tightly.

Hobie inhales and exhales, collecting his thoughts properly. “We're living together.”

“Uh huh.” You nod, confused.

“We clearly love each other.”

“You're just stating the obvious.” you pause your weeping when he groans in frustration. “What is happening?”

“I–” his next words surprises you more than him. “I wanna fuckin' marry you, love.”

You blink rapidly, tilting your head, utterly flabbergasted. “Huh?”

“That's what I meant with ‘I have no idea where we go from here.’” he sighs, facepalming, pursing his lips. “I want to take another step forward with you, but fuckin' hell I hate the bloody pomp and circumstance of it all.” A smile spreads across your face with every word he says.

Did he just ask for your hand in marriage?

“At the same time I don't think we have to marry just so people would know how committed we are to each other.” He's rambling and you smile wider through mascara filled tears. “Not to mention the fuckin' government knowing about all of it, seriously, why can't they just mind their own business about—”

“Hobs,” it's your turn to hold his face, he stops speaking, his chest heaving, eyes glued to you. “Let's elope then.” Hobie mentally conks himself right on the head for not thinking that. “just us, no two hundred guests, no thousands of pounds needed for the ceremony, no stuffy officiant. Just us and our vows.”

Hobie laughs at himself before he places his head on your shoulder, he can't believe he just asked you to spend the rest of your life with him.

Nosing your neck, he embraces you fully, swinging you slightly to the music that's definitely not for slow dancing. Holding on to him, you kiss his hairline, tracing it with your lips.

While Hobie recuperates from his blunder, you on the other hand feel like you're about to burst out of the seams, flooding the entire venue with your love for the man before you.

After the song ends and they announce the new act, with the roar of the crowd Hobie has one last thing to add.

“Let's do it now.” Hobie lifts his head, facing you in all your glory, heart shaped eyes staring at him affectionately, face aglow with so much love that Hobie can feel it flowing directly to his chest. “Let's elope right now, say our vows, we don't need an officiant to declare us married when the band corroded coffin works just as fine.”

“With a few hundred witnesses and a cover band as our wedding singers?” You loop your arms around his neck, linking your fingers together just to hold him closer. Nodding, you can't help but giggle. “Sure, let's do it right now.”

“You first.” Hobie thinks he chose right.

“Nu-huh, you asked, you go first.”

With a joking huff and a thumping heart, he eggs you on.

“I think the bride goes first.”

“Yeah? You've been to a ton of weddings?”

He laughs, the sound is better than the band playing in the background. And in that musky concert hall, underneath the stars and strobe lights, you do your vows.

“Okay, I'll go first.” You clear your throat, hands shaking not from nerves but from excitement. “I vow to always mend your wounds when you get home.” He smiles, eyes shining with unshed happy tears. “But I can't promise that I won't complain and nag you the entire time.”

Chuckling, you continue. “I vow to always be understanding, and to love you until I'm six feet under ground and even then I'd continue to love the shit out of you, Hobart Larry Brown. Even love your government name.”

Hobie can't help in anymore so he leans in but you stop him with your hand shielding your lips.

“You're horrible.” His words lack venom, all love and endearment pointed at you.

“I just vowed to love you unconditionally and you call me horrible?” Your words are muffled that he barely understood it. Yet he still pecks the top of your hand, to satisfy his need to kiss you. “You're not allowed to kiss me, not until we finish our vows.”

He rolls his eyes comically and you laugh. Your lips hurt from all the smiling.

Face hot, (not from the weather) you wipe his cheek free from sweat, leaving your hand to grasp his face. You hope it's enough to convey how utterly in love you are with him.

“My turn?”

“Mm-hmm”

Hobie inhales, he has fought a bunch of villains who wanted to end him but asking you if you want to marry him has him more terrified than facing green goblin. He's exhausted just from that. But he's more than ready to do this, to make his vows. It's only you isn't it? The love of his life who's currently staring at him warmly.

He's glad you agreed to elope, he can't imagine doing this in front of a hundred guests.

“I vow to always come home even when I'm beat up and bloodied. I'll crawl just to get to you.”

If your makeup wasn't ruined before it's properly ruined now with how much tears you're letting out. A few people look at you two weirdly.

“I vow to make time for you, I'd sacrifice sleep if you ask me.” He whispers the next line. “I'm serious. That's how much I love you.”

You laugh through the tears, gripping his collar, it might look like you're about to beat him up but you're actually holding back from snogging the shit out him.

“I promise to love you as long as you let me.” Hobie takes one of his rings off his finger, a favourite of his, a promise to you. The word wife slips his tongue and it has you almost fainting.

That got you and now you're sobbing your heart out. But after a beat, he lifts your face by your chin to let him look at you, he's right, he chose the right one.

“How does forever sound?” you manage to let out, lips still wobbly.

“Perfect. Forever sounds bloody perfect.” He leans once again, this time you don't stop him.

“You may kiss the sweaty bride.” You laugh and you kiss your husband.

[mayaflowerxs]

omgg hii! i'd like to request a fic of Jeno (similar to jaemin's Crazy In Love) but i wanna have the fic sweeter and cuter, as in jeno's really and deeply in love with y/n and that he always shamelessly shows how clingy he is around y/n and would do anything in the world just for her 🥺

(i wouldn't mind a little bit of romantic smut between Jeno & y/n too 🤭)

FAILED CONFESSIONS

Synopsis: The five times Jeno failed to confess & ask you out and the one time he finally found the courage. Or, in which Jeno embarrasses himself multiple times until he finally manages to do things right.

Warning: Fluff / Humor / Smut. Swear word usage, softdom!Jeno, oral + creampie, it’s on the more cliche side so beware! She fell first he fell harder trope. Idol life!

Pairing: Jeno x fem reader

1. WHEN HE WAS 8

The day you saw Jeno was at work. As a cashier, you see faces every second of every hour and unfortunately for him you wouldn’t recognize him again after that day. At least that’s what he thinks. Jeno’s used to the attention, to girls fawning over him and guys wanting to be his friends. He’s popular, aura of his is very enticing but not for you. Maybe it was because you had currently been running an eight hour shift, on the busiest day of the week and the store lacked cashiers but it seemed the tables have turned the second you ringed his group of friends.

Rowdy and in their own world, the friend group continues to have their conversation of god knows what. And it wasn’t until you asked what sort of payment will be made did he turn to face you. He’s not spiritual, not into astrology nor psychology or any of that sort of thing and yet, in that moment he wanted to asks all sorts of questions. Like how is it, that you managed to get him starstruck by merely being in his presence. Frozen in place, hands becoming clammy, throat clenching and hand half way through his pocket and fidgeting with his sleeve. His brain practically reboots until he’s able to move again. “Oh sorry, um..how much?” He asks shyly, mentally scolding himself as he tries to avoid as much eye contact.

And even though you didn’t notice the flustered state the boy in front of you was in, he felt as if you did. There’s no way you didn’t notice the nervous gulp and the struggle to take out his credit card. There’s no way you didn’t notice the way his friends began to snicker the second they realized how he got because of you. But as he swipes the card and you hand him the receipt with a quick, ‘have a good day’ he slightly wished you did notice him.

Jeno wasn’t one to waste time. Any girl he liked he was quick to ask out and yet as he grabbed all the bags, not wanting the others to help carry and slightly wanting to impress you: he walked off as quickly as he could. Forgetting about his credit card, “Your credit card!” You say and hand it out to him. A tight lipped smile, he nods and grabs it. Uttering a low thanks he was sure you didn’t even hear. Shutting his eyes momentarily and walking out of the store he scolded himself all the way to the parking lot. Throwing the bags inside and getting in, he waited for the moment in which his friends would give him hell. And when they do arrive, as expected they dived right in.

The car erupted in chaos, he felt their hands shaking him as they cooed. Jokes and laughs were made, teasing from Chenle and Haechan and squeals from Mark. He wanted to punch every single one of them. He didn’t want to be reminded of how much he acted like a fool. He didn’t want to be reminded that no matter how much he physically changed he’s still the same eight year old dork that struggled to ask you out all those years ago. A single rose in hand with a box of chocolates. Propping his glasses up the bridge of your nose as he tried to steady his breathing. You’ve been his long time crush since preschool, way before he even understood what feelings were. His best friend Jaemin at his side reminding him everything will work out. That you would say yes, he spent the day before rehearsing what’d he say. How he’d approach you, would it be in front of everyone? Would he ask you to meet him behind a tree?

During the first and second grade, he grew just the tiniest bit of confidence to talk to you but for the most part still too shy. The most he ever spoke to you was to ask you to pass him the glue. Spending most of his time admiring you from afar and when he decided he’d ask you to be his girlfriend, Jaemin was ecstatic for him. Taking him to the nearest store where he spent too much time trying to find the right rose and box of chocolates. All just for it to never be received by you. The next day came and as he walked past the gates of the school he noticed the slight sadness in his best friends eyes. “I’m sorry.”

But he couldn’t pay much mind to him. Only a few yards away from the two of them, were you and your first ever boyfriend Shotaro. A transfer from Japan and even though he only knew a few sentences the two of you quickly hit it off. Close to the hip, Jeno should’ve seen this coming. Of course he noticed how good friends you two became and yet he was dumb to think he wouldn’t ask you out. Of course he would, you’re pretty, kind, funny and sassy. All that he likes about you. And so feeling disheartened, he throws the rose into the trash can and gives Jaemin the chocolates. Ever since that day, he’s only liked you from afar. He thought as the time went on he’d forget about this ‘silly’ crush on you but that would be far from the truth.

Which is why, as he currently sits in the car. Running a frustrated hand through his hair and contemplates on what he should do. This would be the first time seeing you after high school, and yet just as he thought he moved on. BAM! Did all those jitters come flying back into the deepest pit of his stomach. I guess he hasn’t actually moved on then.

2. WHEN IN THE 6TH GRADE

The class was switching seats. And as comfortable as the students were, a part dreaded this day but others didn’t. No, others were excited, others were Jeno. As his teacher walked past each desk, one by one and calling out a name his heart only increased in beats. Inhaling sharply, fingers slightly crossed as he hoped his and your name would be called. Not even caring if he got to sit in the back of the class or not.

“Y/n.” His heart skipped a beat, watching as you send a sad smile to your friend and walk over to your new seat. At the front, left corner. Furthest from the teacher and back facing the cubbies. And the desk right in front of her, the teacher hits with her pen and reads the name. “Jeno.” Hearing his friends pat his back and tease him for having to sit in the front he pretends to look sad but doesn’t waste time to go to his new spot. A miracle it was, a blessing his teacher gave him for seating him so close to you. In front of you where he only mostly sees you. And as he sits down, he feels the familiar tightness in his throat appear. His hands becoming clammy and fingers fidgeting with his sleeves. Your eyes momentarily glanced at him and sent a quick smile before looking past him and stare at your friend. As pathetic as it was, he froze. Mind spiraling as he replays the short smile you sent him. You never smiled at him, of course you smiled before but usually it’s because of your happy state but this. This was voluntarily only for him. Not for a group of people or the situation. Only for him, and even though he shouldn’t think much he can’t help but smile idiotically at himself about it.

During the time he sat in front of you, he made it his mission to get you to smile more, and if lucky, make you laugh. So, purposely he began to make dumb decisions, crack jokes and when he notices the slight curve on your face he knew he was heading into the right direction. Letting you in on the pranks he was about to pull on his friends and feeling joyous when you helped him. Accidentally getting glue on his hair, red in the face but liked when you began to giggle and help take it out of him. With you so close and smelling your vanilla perfume, he tenses and panicked to look anywhere but you. Asking for help even when he didn’t need it with the excuse that you’re the smartest of the class, which you were. He made himself seem like the class clown who had not a single clue as to how to do his work. And even though he got in trouble a lot, he felt happy to know it was getting your attention. So much, you spoke to him every chance you got.

It almost seemed like everything was finally going right for him. You and Shotaro had broken up a while ago, and the only other boy you dated was the class clown Yangyang in the fifth grade. And as jealous he got, Jeno tried his hardest to not come to resent him because he knew he was a good kid. But his hopes were back, you were single. He’s been single even when it’s been made obvious many of the girls especially the popular ones have had a crush on him. He was feeling optimistic and so during lunch, he finds a way to sit by you every time. Even if he had to cut people to stand behind you in line, and during recess he insisted his and your friend group played a game together even when the two had different interests. But it’s not like he cares if his friends wanted to play soccer and yours wanted to play in the bark box. He only looked at you and waited to see what you had to say. And whatever you choice was even if it was to do jump rope which he was miserably bad at or sit at the bench under the blazing sun, he agreed instantly.

Valentines Day was nearing. Which meant grams were around the corner. A time in which anyone can buy someone else a piece of candy with a note on it. Whether it’d be anonymous or not but Jeno was feeling brave. This could be his time to ask you out, to confess his feelings and so with his 25 cents in hand. He waits patiently in line, and as he goes to fill out the note he overhears some of the other boys discussing who’d they be sending their candy grams to. And when he hears your name, he feels his heart drop. “Me too!” “No way! I said her name first!” “Yeah well I like her too!” “Who says she’ll pick you?” Whatever hope Jeno had that you’d accept to be his girlfriend fell down the drain. Those boys were much more taller than him, bigger. You would never go for a scrawny kid like him. And so, without his name written on there he simply writes, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day.’ And when the day comes where the names are read, he watches sadly as you get over ten grams from your friends and admirers. Slightly smiling fondly at you for the way your eyes brighten at all the times your name was called.

Dejected that when you said yes to a confession on one of the Valentine grams, it wasn’t his.

3. WHEN IN MIDDLE SCHOOL

Seventh grade by far was the most thrilling year ever. A new school meant new environment, teachers, and classmates. The size of peers doubled and as Jeno made new friends so did you. At some point he managed to move on from you, just a little though. He made tons of new friends but those that sticked were a Canadian kid named Mark and a bratty kid named Haechan. Now enrolled in a soccer team, his clique grew from four friends to almost a class full. His popularity grew as well, his hair was freshly cut. He figured new school new look, clothes were newer and of popular expensive brand. Shoes nice and shiny and backpack a plain black Jansport because that’s was all popular kids wear. Not only that, but more girls were after him. Rumors were spreading like hell fire with more kids along with the gossip so any girl got a crush on him, he’d know within a day notice.

But after the long list of girls liking him, none of the names were ever yours. His attention was drifted off from you for a while, until he saw you show up to one of his games. When he notices you on the bleachers he can’t help but freeze. Why were you here? Do you like sports? Was it because it was tournaments? Were you here for somebody? Dating someone in the team? Oh god hopefully not. And as he tried his hardest to focus, he felt his hands getting clammy again. Just knowing you’re watching, maybe not exactly at him but in general had him feeling extremely nervous. What if he messes up and makes a fool out of himself? Then again it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it. And when the game ends and luckily winning, his eyes aren’t on his coach nor his teammates. Not even the medal he gets, no his eyes are focused on tracking you. And when he spots you he felt relieved to know you weren’t here because one of the guys were dating you. On the contrary, your friend was dating one of the players, the goalie actually.

And with an excuse in thought. He walks over to you three. “Hey.” He managed to get out without his voice shaking. “Hi!” Your friend greets, a slight nod from you which kinda saddens him. So long since the two of you properly spoke it almost seemed like you two were strangers. But he wanted to speak to you again, which is why when he had a moment with his goalie he demanded he’d bring them any chance he got. Even when no game was going on, “You have to bring them.” “Them?” “Yes, your girlfriend and y/n.” But he didn’t leave any spot for questions, sternly giving him a look he simply nods and obliges. And so, little by little does he get close to you again. So much, rumors have begun to spread. Were the two of you dating? Were there any feelings involved? And even though Jeno only laughed it off, he looked at you expectantly, hopefully. Only smiling off the sting when you simply shake your head. Not even changing his appearance did you have any interest in him.

A dance was nearing, and Jeno thought it’d be the perfect opportunity to ask you out. And this time, he had your friends support. Making sure to get you to not accept any one else’s request and even asking you frequently about Jeno. And when she assured him you’d agree if he asked you, he took the leap again. Only this time, he was successful. You agreed! Overjoyed and also embarrassed by the way he was a stuttering mess and there managed to be a crowd when he asked you. He couldn’t stop smiling from ear to ear. Shyly grabbing your hand and walking you away from the crowd, forgetting that he only asked you to the dance and not to date. So with an awkward chuckle, he lets go. When the night did come, he couldn’t stop pacing. One of the first to arrive despite his friends protests but he didn’t care. Standing by a table he watched as more and more walked through the door, his anxiety doubling as the time went on and no sign of you. But when you finally did, hair down and a part of it up. A nice flowy dress and flats to match it, your smile bright and gradient he felt himself grow weak in the knees.

He dreamed of this very moment and now that it’s here, what should he do next? He only wished to ask you out and never what to actually do when you said yes. With a slight shove from his friends, he sends them a glare and walks over to you. Awkward and ears and cheeks red the two of you dance to a slow song. The disco ball shines above you two and it seems like time stops. Taking in your beauty, Jeno can feel his heart beat in his ears. Taking another gulp to moisten his dry throat. Holding your hand gently and praying they won’t start to sweat. The proximity made him feel fuzzy inside. His other hand on your waist he tries to resist himself in pulling you in a hug. To hold you tight and call you his. To not lean in and kiss your rosey pink lips. For most of the night he had fun with you, so much fun he couldn’t stop smiling like a doofus. Like a little girl did he speak how he felt to his friends, “I think I’m asking her tonight.” And as the supportive friends they are, they patted him in the back and wished him good luck.

So he searched for you, and then wished he didn’t. He couldn’t believe his luck. Eric Sohn, another popular kiddo not really close friends with and he too is a soccer player. Just not in his team. And this same Eric was currently dancing with you on the dance floor to another slow song that began to play. And even though he couldn’t hear what you two were talking about, he knew what was asked the second he saw you nod your head excessively and the group of kids around you began to awe. Truly, he couldn’t catch a break.

4. WHEN YOU TUTORED EACH OTHER

“Can everyone be quiet please?” Jeno snaps, finally gaining some peace in the car. “She doesn’t even remember me so can we please just get going?” Jeno didn’t want to admit what he was feeling was getting the best of him. And it wasn’t fair to take it out on his friends but he just wanted to leave already. To hide in his room and sleep away the image of you. He successfully did it for a few years, surely he can do it some more. But the ignition hasn’t started, and it’s gotten eerily quiet. So much he can practically read his friends thoughts. “What?” He asks monotonously, “You should go talk to her.” “No.” With an exasperated sigh Haechan groans and begins to whine. “C’mon Jeno it’s obvious you still like her.” “Ok and? Doesn’t mean she likes me, I mean she doesn’t even remember me.” He huffs.

Just to think you didn’t even recognize him was only making him more upset and sad. All these years and nothing? Maybe you had short term memory loss or something. There was no way you didn’t remember him, I mean throughout the years the two of you spent some good time together. Making some memorable memories, were they not as meaningful to you as it was to him? Freshman year and at the brink of failing his English class, top of your class and was asked if you could give him a hand. And as the sweetheart you are, you agreed. He still remembers how his throat closed up on him when he saw you enter. He immediately stopped slouching and pulled back a chair for you. Organizing his stuff so there’d be space for you. The first few times were quiet as he felt embarrassed by how bad he was at it.

But then he realized you weren’t so perfect either, you struggled in Math. And he was great in that subject. And so for a fair trade you began tutoring each other. Either at school, before or during lunch, after school at his or your house. At times the two of you got distracted and began having random conversations and playful banter. Watching movies and even staying for dinner. The two of you got so close, you even shared your first kiss together. But it was an accident, at least the first time. Jeno wanted to teach you a dance move and when he encouraged you to try, your socks caused you to slip. Instincts kicked in and before he knew it, he was quick to grab you only to fall alongside you. Falling on top of you and lips planting full smash on yours, a shocked pause occurred. Not a muscle was moved and it seemed like the two of you were afraid to make the next move. By the next time you tutored there was some awkwardness but mostly tension.

And when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and came back to him standing up to stretch, he came face to face with you. Merely an inch away and as the two of you struggled to not look at each other’s eyes or lips, you two shared similar thoughts. You’d lean in and kiss again. He felt overwhelmed with emotions. He can’t exactly decipher what he’s feeling, the wonder of what your lips would feel like and here he is kissing them again only this time for real. Kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Leading you to your bed, ignoring the loud crunches your papers made. Sighing happily when you run your hand through his hair and pull away to take a breather before leaning back in for more. House with no parents, the two of you spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other’s arms.

That night, you took each other’s virginities.

The purity ring he once wore now dangled around your neck. Luckily your parents didn’t know what that was and assumed it was yours, but Jeno wasn’t so fortunate. He got grounded, berated and shamed. How someone so young could be causing such reckless behavior but at this point in time he was in too deep. He felt this way for a while but never acknowledged it but he knows now. And despite his parents saying he’s too young to know what he’s truly feeling he knew it was real. He knew his love for you wasn’t all in his head. And he certainly knew, he didn’t regret giving you his v-card. Something no one knew, not his best friend or anyone else except you and his parents. It was a shock when he gave you his ring, you assumed he’s been without his virginity and to know you weren’t the only one that lost it, you confessed to him the truth. Guilty, he looks down shamefully. “I should’ve known, I’m sorry it should’ve been special.” “But it was.” Cupping his face and lifting his head to look at you, you can see the twinkle in his eyes the second he glanced at you.

You notice how his pupils dilate and the puppy eyes take form, how at ease he gets and his hands itching to touch you. Yearning for your comfort. “I’m glad it was you that took it, wouldn’t want any one else.” You mumble and close in on his lips.

Leg bouncing as Jeno waits impatiently for Mark to start driving off he rubs the inch on his skin, his shirt slightly reveals his abdomen. The black and red ink apparent As it rests neatly above his v line, a tattoo of a stem with two cherries. A date on it with initials. Your initials. To symbolize the day he popped your cherry, a day he’s never forgotten.

“Well I’m sure she was just too tired, it’s busy in there. You should at least think about coming by some other time and getting in touch with her.” Renjun tries to convince but he and the others can tell their friend has already begun to think about all his memories of you. Even the hurtful ones. Like when he prepared to ask you out with a poster and a bouquet of flowers. The two of you were practically inseparable, already acting like a couple no way it can go wrong. But it did, horribly. He convinced you to meet him out on the track, where he thought he would be able to get some alone time with you but that wouldn’t happen when the kids from p.e would be using it for their run day. Jeno should’ve specified, he should’ve made sure it was clear when he gave some of his classmates each a rose to give to you. A trail until you found your way towards him, but not a single rose was given to you. No instead, to a completely different a girl. The popular girl who’s been heavily crushing on him since the 7th grade and never had her feelings reciprocated.

More and more students piled up, a crowd forming and as she made her way down to the last rose Jeno felt his insides fill with anxiety. Still completely unaware that the person nearing wasn’t you. The horror to see the crowd part way not for you but for her. A bouquet of roses in hand as she read the poster he had in his hands. Phones out, video recording and whispers of encouragement. And when she shrieks and shakes her head. The crowd went wild, clapping and whistling for the new couple. And as he stood there mortified with the chick’s arms wrapped around his neck he grew oblivious to you who merely stood a few feet away. Heart broken and hopes destroyed, feeling stupid for thinking he’d ask you to be his. To think that night meant a lot to him just as it did to you. So that’s why he invited you, you assumed. So that you could see how he’d prove to you that day meant nothing to him, and how easily replaceable you were. So with a broken heart, you turned around swiftly and wiped off the tears from your cheeks. A new profound hatred for him.

5. WHEN HE SAW YOU CRYING

For two years you went ignoring his very existence. A senior, your last and final year before leaving grade school. One more year before leaving the city behind, your childhood home and moving on somewhere far away. A new start for you. During those two years, you had tried to do your best with getting by but your hatred for the school increased. You grew to hate the homework, the teachers, the peers, everything about it brought wrath. The idea of having to go made you want to cry and only thinking about having to wake up and attend had you stressing. You didn’t know exactly what caused that switch but you had a hunch it was the day you cried over Lee Jeno. After the misunderstanding at the track he was quick to make it clear he wasn’t referring to her and even though he was met with a slap in the face and accusations of messing with her feelings, he didn’t care. His only focus was you and yet when he noticed your sudden coldness towards him it worried him tons. Avoiding him at all times, not responding to his text messages and even stopped the whole tutoring program.

You stopped going to his games and when his team mates girlfriend was around, you were no longer with her. It hurt him to know how easily he lost you, so close. So close and yet you had managed to slip through his fingers again. And even though you tried to prevent crossing paths with him, it seemed like that wasn’t his intentions. No he searched for him, purposely walking past your class to run into you. And during lunch where you’d stay in the library, he would too. Sitting from afar but looking after you. And the times you met eyes, he would send you a soft smile only to falter when you immediately looked away. To say his heart didn’t sting would be a lie, he could no longer focus during practice. The gym wasn’t doing much to keep himself from thinking about you and at night when alone with his thoughts, all he can reminisce about are the days he spent with you. Trailing over his finger and feeling the emptiness of his ring, it had him thinking. Did you still have it? Did you throw it away? He couldn’t dare check, worried his heart wouldn’t know how to deal with the pain of you tossing his ring. Not when it held so much value of what took place for him to give it to you.

For two whole years he was left in the dark. Did you see what happened? You must have, he asked you to be there. By the next day it seemed like the whole school found out about it even more when the videos went around. He wished he could explain to you it was all a big mistake. And yet, he was a coward. Tail tucked between his legs, he hid in a corner and bowed down because he was afraid of confrontation. Of the possibility of you rejecting him even after explaining he only has eyes for you. That he only loves you. And with that in mind, everything began to slowly slip. His grades, his social bar, his ambitions. He quit soccer despite all those who tried to get him to stay. He started turning in lots of late assignments and most times, never even bothered to do them. He found his way into drinking most weekends, and smoking in the empty parking lot. His mood definitely dampened over time. No longer in the mood to go have fun, only shakes his head No and goes home where he’d lock himself in his room for the rest of the day. He began getting into situationships, and as messy as it got he didn’t stop.

Eventually it’s how he got his playboy reputation. Always seen with a new chick by his side and when he was no longer interested, he tossed them aside. You on the other hand managed to move on, you found yourself a new guy. And for those two years, you dated. Many saw how serious you quickly got with him, complimenting how well the two of you were for each other. Made for each other. Just the sentence itself had Jeno rolling his eyes. Party after party, it’s all he ever hears the second while there: your boyfriend waltzed in. It seemed like only he knew how fake your ‘lovely’ boyfriend was being. How he enjoyed the attention he gained from girls, how he simultaneously flirted back with them. How his sweet boy demeanor changed the second you left and spoke vile about women like they were objects. A toy, and even though Jeno had no place to talk he felt enraged to hear the son of a bitch speak about you so lowly. You weren’t his, ‘bitch’ you’re his girlfriend not a dog. You’re not meant to be a distraction instead a human he should love and cherish. And as much as he wishes to punch the living shit out of him, he refrained from doing so. He was no longer in your life, he shouldn’t be getting involved in your business.

But when you cried that night. The night of one of the regular parties that happened on Saturday’s. When he was shocked to see you enter. You’ve always hated parties he knows that because you told him. And yet here you were, walking in completely lost and uncomfortable. Tugging your thin sweater closer to you as you’re in search for your boyfriend. His eyes trailed your every move and when he sees you go upstairs, he’s about to make his way after you but is stopped by a manicured hand. Feeling their other hand come behind his head and avert his attention. Pushing him up against the counter but his focus wasn’t on her. Even when she began to brush herself on him, he continued to divert his eyes over to the stairs. And when he suddenly sees you coming down and push through the crowd of bodies hurriedly and a hand over your face, he knew you saw something you wish you didn’t. Quick to brush off the random chick, he goes after you. Demanding the annoying people standing in the middle of the room to get out of his way and when he finally catches up to you outside, his heart breaks upon hearing your small sniffles.

“Y/n…” you heard his voice but this only caused you to look away pathetically. Feeling embarrassed that he’s seeing you in such a vulnerable state. Humiliated that you fell for your ex’s tricks and had to find out the hard way that he was just a pig like every guy in high school. “Go away.” You get out with a croak in your voice. But he didn’t, no he stayed. He sat besides you on the steps and stayed silent as he watched you with sad eyes. “Stop pitying me.” “I don’t.” Scoffing, you wipe your eyes and roll them afterwards. “Of course you do, I’m crying over a guy who used me. Who cheated on me. I was just another chick he used, just like what you do.” A sting to his chest, he felt himself sobering up quickly. You weren’t wrong, you look down at his appearance he has changed vastly. Wearing almost all black, and clothes reeking of nicotine. Mouth smelling like beer and hair oily for the lack of regular washing. “I may not be the guy who should say this but, you deserve better. And I’m sorry that dirtbag couldn’t see how good he had it with you. That he made you cry.” He softens his eyes the second you turn to meet his. For the first time in two years his face was no longer cold stone. He wasn’t miserable or serious, he was at ease and a boy in love. A boy who silently begged for you to love him back.

“I’m sorry I made you cry.” His voice broke letting that out. The memory of seeing a small tear fall from the corner of your eye when the two of you met eyes from across the library. Right before you looked away. The last time you’d look at him for the next two years. Hands balled at his sleeves, his throat begins to tighten up, picking at his nails as he continued to stare into your orbs. Worried if he did anything else he’d break down. When he sees you let out a light chuckle, you wipe your tears away and dig something from under your shirt. Surprised when he sees the familiar silver ring, his purity ring. “Can you believe i still have it?” At loss for words, he averts his eyes from the ring to you again. “I thought the day you asked me to meet you at the track would be the day you’d ask me to be your girlfriend..” you chuckle hurtly at the memory. He could say something, right now. He should say something, but nothing comes out. So he waits for you to talk again, and hopefully he’ll find the courage while you do.

“But I was delusional, so I left. Because it was the only way I can move on. From you, from the hurt I felt. I thought getting into a relationship would help me do that but instead it only led me down to a path filled with more pain.” “Y/n…” he said desperately but you only shaked your head. “It’s okay.” You smiled softly at him. “I was wrong, and I moved on.” No, please don’t move on. Standing, you wipe off any dirt on your jeans and fixed your hair. “Think it’s best I never let another man in my life again. Love sucks anyways right?” Silent, he only nods merely just to agree with you. But it’s not what he’s thinking. Despite the pain he still wants to feel love. He still wants to love you and still does. No love doesn’t suck because despite it never going his way, he’s never regretted the special moments he shared with you.

About to leave, he stands and grabs your hand. “Y/n please wait-“ “Jeno!” He hears the high pitched voice call out to him. Raising a brow, you nod over to her. “Someone’s waiting for you mr. hotshot.” Shaking his head, he keeps a firm grip on your wrist and doesn’t bother looking back. “Please don’t go.” He pleads. “There’s nothing for me here-“ “Me. I’m here.” Stepping closer to you, he towers over you. A growth spurt that made him a good inches taller than you. “Funny, good to know you haven’t changed entirely.” Before he gets to explain that he isn’t joking, he gets pull roughly. Turned around and is met with the irritation on the girls face. “What the hell?! You’re supposed to be here with me and I find you outside with some chick?” “She’s not some chick!” Eyes widening, she scoffs and shakes her head. “So what is she your girlfriend now?” She asks sarcastically.

“So what if she was?” Surprised, she drops the attitude and huffs. “What?” Nodding, he feels all those sealed feelings begin to boil up. “You heard me.” Snickering she shakes her head. “C’mon Jeno who are you kidding, you don’t date. You only kiss and hook up-“ “Yes because I had no other choice given it was the only way to bury my feelings for her alright!” Shocked, she’s at loss for words. “That I’ve loved her since the first grade and nothing ever seems to go right because I only ever end up pushing her away and I can’t eat, think, sleep right because she’s always on my mind 24/7 and hooking up with nuisances like you was the only way I could temporarily forget about her. But that didn’t work because now I’m here potentially going to lose her indefinitely because you won’t stop cutting me off when I’m on the brink of confessing my feelings towards her and to finally ask her the question I’ve been dying to ask since I was 8 and that’s if she’ll do me the honors to be my girlfriend!”

An eery silence had consumed around him. Only the faint sound of grasshoppers and the beat of the music coming from inside the house. But it wasn’t until a voice broke it, did he feel the blood in him run cold. “What?” Forgetting you were there the whole time, he tenses up. Turning around slowly where he sees you standing there confused and surprised. His brain seemed to go blank, struggling to find the right words and when he watched you run off he could feel his heart shatter into a million pieces. So you really didn’t feel anything towards him anymore. He assumed. Brushing past the chick standing there awkwardly, he goes inside for a much needed drink. Grabbing the first bottle of vodka and downs a sip. He drinks, and drinks until the music only become sounds to him and he lost himself through the crowd. And even though he struggled to even piece together a coherent sentence, he seemed to sober up enough the second he finds your ex coming down the stairs with a girl in his arms. A smug look on his face, a hickey on his neck with her lipstick on his lips. This pissed him off, how could he be such an idiot to lose a gem like you. To ever think to hurt you. He saw red, he no longer cared what his friends had to say. Even when Jaemin and Renjun tried to get him to sit down and cool off he only shrugged them off.

He went straight towards the guy who hurt you. Roughly pulling him back by his shoulder, only a short hey escapes his mouth before receiving a hard punch to the jaw. That night, Jeno made his first ever felony and ended up behind bars for the night.

“Please just drive.” Jeno tells Mark and with a reluctant nod, he turns on the ignition and drives home. On the way there, Jeno was left with his thoughts. Silently begging to think of something else but all that flashes through his head is the taste of your lips. Your adorable smile, the contagious laugh and the warmth of your embrace. A single tear falls down his cheek and quickly wiped it. Even after all these years, when you ran away and never spoke to him again. When you didn’t even graduate at the same school and instead moved away, when he stopped seeing you entirely. After all that time, he’s still in love with you. Because as many came and gone, none managed to fill the void that occurred when you left. None could make him smile the way you did, laugh they way you did, love the way you did. And even when you feign to not remember him, he remembers you. And while you may have already forgotten about him, he didn’t because he never did. He loves you, so so much and it hurts.

6. WHEN HE SHOWED UP AT YOUR HOUSE

Seeing him after all those years felt like a time relapse. After a stressful shift, you were ready to clock off. Ready to tell whoever began to pile their stuff at your register to find somewhere else to pay but when you saw him. It’s like you couldn’t utter a single word. Your heart felt like it ran a 100 mph, you felt yourself heating up and breathing getting heavier. Would be recognize you? It has been almost six years since high school but you hadn’t change a lot, of course you matured but anyone who knew you would recognize you. And Jeno, he still looked the same other than his hair was now dyed and he was buffer. Jaw more chiseled. But it was him, it was the same Jeno. Your Jeno. And when you asked how they’d like to pay you made an effort to not look in his direction even making sure to have asked one of the other guys. Too anxious to meet him face to face, but he was the one who paid. The one who looked up at you, he recognized you. The way his cheery self butchered the second he saw you. How quiet he got, but you feigned ignorance. Pretended you didn’t remember him and only hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions.

You should’ve felt glad he didn’t, but you weren’t. And when you watched him quickly walk off leaving behind his card you made the impulsive act to call out for him. Finally looking at him, you couldn’t read his facial expression. He seemed, conflicted. And when he had since left, you were left alone with your thoughts. Making your way to the locker room where you would think back to all the memories you had with the man. You tried to move on from him, pretend he no longer existed and you thought you were doing a good job at it. But all those repressed emotions were hitting the surface, by the time you were headed off home you never would’ve known to prepare yourself to find the very man standing outside your doorstep. Head down with AirPods in, arms rested on his knees and he doesn’t look up until your headlights shine on him. Nervous and anxious, he’s quick to stand on his feet and play with the hem of his hoodie. Eyes widen when you get out, taking so careful steps towards him. There’s silence, and it seems like the two of you don’t know how to begin a part of Jeno is beginning to regret finding your address. Maybe you truly did forget about him and now thinks he’s some stalker waiting for you to come home.

“Jeno.” You say softly.

So soft and yet he still heard it. Heart rate jumping and throat closing in on himself. “How did you know I lived here?” A nervous chuckle, he cheeks become a light shade of pink. Balancing his weight on either leg, “Im friends with one of your old classmate buddy, she uh told me where to find you.” Ah, the very one who dated his teammate the goalie. “…So how you’ve been?” You ask after a moment of silence. But that’s not what he wanted to hear. At least not now, no he wanted to explain himself. Explain everything that went down years ago, ask you why you ran. Why you left. A part of him wanted to demand you some much needed explanations while the other wanted to break down and hold you tight. But he refrained himself from doing so, so instead he only nods and shrugs his shoulders. “Okay, I’m living life so that’s good.” “What are you doing here?” Chuckling, he looks around. “I’m still trying to figure that out myself.” A momentarily silence engulfs the two of you, staring at each other but the two of you begin to make quick steps closer to each other. Opening your arms and engulfing each other into your embrace. He hears you begin to cry, and to repress his he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry I ran.” You manage to say out loud. “I’m sorry I made things worse.” A single tear falls from his eye, fisting his hands on your sweater and pulls your closer to him.

“No, I’m sorry I never made myself clear.” Pulling away, he cups your face. “I’ve liked you since the first grade, and as hard as I tried I failed. I failed to confess to you and when it was most important I messed that all up by making it seem like I was asking someone else when I wasn’t. I should’ve told you how I felt under better circumstances but I didn’t because I was filled with guilt and alcohol.” He sniffles and leans closer to your hand that’s raised to wipe the tears off his face. “I love you y/n, I’m sorry it took me more than ten years to tell you that. I’m sorry I was a coward and hurt you, and I’m sorry I’m too late.” He goes to move away from you but you don’t let go. Instead your grip on him tightens. “Why do you say you’re too late?” Unexpected by the question he stutters out an incoherent response. “I’ve always liked you Jeno.” Freezing, you smile at the confused state he’s in.

“You’ve always been oblivious haven’t you?” Feeling his cheeks warm up, he tugs the back of his hair and chuckles awkwardly. “I don’t- I’m not-“ “The only reason I’ve dated so much is to forget about you. I always wished you’d ask me to be your girlfriend. Always wished there was a chance you felt the same way, when the day I saw you and her…it hurt.” Feeling the guilt wash back up on him, he gently holds your hands. Rubbing soft circles on them nervous you’ll pull your hands away. “Which is why I cut you from my life.” Ouch. “But the night of the party, when you confessed your feelings about me, I didn’t know how to act. I couldn’t believe you liked me this whole time, I panicked and so I ran. I ran until I didn’t look back and it only made things worse.” Cupping your face, he tilts your head to face him. “I love you.” He says wholeheartedly.

“Ask me.” Raising a brow, you giggle and ask the question again. “What you’ve always wanted to tell me?” When the realization hit, he almost couldn’t believe it. Definitely not how he’d liked to ask you but he worries if he waited for the ideal moment then he’d never become yours. “Y/n…” he clears his throat. Hands beginning to sweat, “Will you be my girlfriend?” He hates how time seems to be passing by super slow. Every second is filled with dread, worry you’ll say no. Fear you’ll realize you don’t want this and reject him. But when he sees you grin and nod your head, a cheery yes all that worry is thrown right out the window. And instead, he picks you up and spins you around. “Yes?” He wants confirm, “Yes!” He didn’t ask your for hand in marriage and yet it still seems just as special. So much time went by, and just when he thought he’d never get the girl of his dreams. To confess his feelings, it did. Setting you down, he gives you no time to speak for he’s smashing his lips on top of yours.

Butterflies and fireworks go off, humming by the softness of your lips and your perfume hitting his nostrils. Like he just arrived in heaven, he’s ascending further the more he continues to kiss you. He loves it, loves the feeling so he deepens the kiss. Tilting his head, a hand behind your neck and pressing lips harder on yours. Moaning when coming in contact with your tongue. All his love and yearning for you has begun to spill through the kiss and it seems like you’re feeling the same. Feeling your hands pull him by his belt loops, walking forward until he leans you up against your car. He didn’t care who could potentially see, if anything he’d make it clear he’s now taken by the love of his life. The girl he’s been crushing on since the first grade, who has agreed to be his girlfriend. And when an elderly man walking his dog walk by and groan in disgust, he simply gives him a wink and presses his body on top of yours, in love with the whimper you let out. He wants to hear more of it, but he can’t push his limits. He just got you, he must be patient it’s the least he can do.

Pulling away to catch your breaths, he looks at you with a certain fondness. A smile on his face as he leans in and presses a kiss on your forehead, your cheek, temple and nose. “Mine.” He sighs contently on top of your lips before going back to kissing you. Spending another hour with you propped on your trunk and him nestled between your legs, lips locked onto yours. A perfect way to start your blossoming relationship.

Jeno hasn’t stopped showing his affection since you’ve said yes. Not caring what his friends had to say, even when they made kissy faces and poked fun at him for being so love sick. He loves expressing his love for you. It’s so obvious to everyone how much the man loves you, practically worships you. To every request you make, he obliges. With a simple plea and he’s on his knees for you. Dating for a few months and nothing has changed. Attached to your hip, he’s protective and caring. Helps with handing you things that’s too high for you, carries your purse and shopping bags. Moves the shopping cart as you grab the items. Brings in the grocery bags and refuses for you to carry any, opens doors for you and gives you pieces of his food with an excuse that he’s not that hungry. He cuddles you when he says he’s tired, cold, sick but really it’s excuses just so he can hold you. He nuzzles his face in your neck as a silent request to kiss him. Placing his head on your lap when he wants you to run your hand through his hair.

He even lets you dress him up, put crazy makeup on him and do any of the trends you see on Tiktok just to please you. So when his friends enter your home and sees you reapplying some of your lipstick meanwhile Jeno’s face is absolutely covered with your lip stains all over his face they point and laugh but he doesn’t care. A fuzzy hair band of yours pulling back his disheveled hair you fluffed up, and a loved up expression as he was reliving all the kisses you left on him merely a few minutes ago. As the time went on, his clinginess grew which meant more attention given. Such things like kisses and when those turned heated it would only be a matter of time before the two of you would have sex. But it hasn’t happened yet. That was until Jeno invited you to a dinner party, jaw dropped when he notices how gorgeous you looked. Hair and makeup done and the dress fitting so pretty on you. You look so good he couldn’t help but have you sit on his lap for most of the time, not trusting the strangers around you. Arms rested neatly on your lap, rubbing up and down your thighs. Biting his lip to hold back a groan when you moved too much.

A heated make out session in the bathroom ended in the two of you leaving sooner than the others. And when you arrived home, clothes were discarded until the two of you were bare for each other. The sheets over the two of you, dark room but the light of the moon shines through your window. Giving Jeno a perfectly view of you in pure bliss as he entered you. Quickened his pace after given the okay signal and pounded into you when you begged for more. Holding your hand that went to wrap around his neck and pressed reassuring kisses when he fucked you deeper. Arms resting in either side of your face, caging you in and lifting your leg to rest on his shoulder for better access. Leaning his hand down to run quick circles on your nub and asking if you were close. Softly kissing your face when you finally do come for him. “So pretty.” He mumbles and sets your leg down, only to be surprised when you flip him around. Sat neatly on top of him and having him through his head back and let out a loud groan when you sit on his dick. Grabbing your waist to steady you, he curses under his voice and admires how your breasts bounce when you do.

Pupils dilating even further when he stares at the base of his cock, how deep you take him. Loving how well his fits neatly inside you. Loving the way your warm walls tighten around him, in love when his tip makes a small dent on your lower abdomen and overall loving how well he’s pleasing you. So angelic, he wants to see you in this state for hours. And that’s exactly what he does. By morning, he’s calling in with no intentions of getting out of bed any time soon. Starting the fun from the previous night all over again. If possible he’s sure he’s fallen even more in love with you, and he was certain you were always meant for him.

So by the end of the year, he put a ring on your finger

[tightjeansjavi]

chamomile

A/N: I was making myself a cup of tea earlier this evening and the idea blossomed from there 🥺

for @morallyinept Valentine’s Day masterlist 💗

~word count: 1.3k~

Summary: it’s Valentine’s Day and Dieter Bravo is alone and missing you

Pairing | Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings: mature, fluff, angst, language,implicit smut, one mention of dieter giving himself a handjob, mentions of alcohol and ouid, fwb’s, pining, assumed one-sided feelings, two idiots in love without realizing it, typical dieter behavior, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is petal, +18 minors dni!

On the long, lonely nights where Dieter Bravo is away from you, his solace, his person, he always finds himself struggling to sleep. An hour here, and an hour there, but it can never compare to the deep, dreamy, snooze he gets when you’re laying next to him, tangled up in his legs, under his sheets.

He knows deep down he’s got it bad for you. So bad, he can hardly think straight on most days. Dieter, you missed your cue, again.

He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and shakes his shoulders to relieve any pent up stress he’s feeling and to get back on track.

Did you even read the fucking script, Bravo?

He scoffs, jaw ticking under the harsh studio lights that buzz in his ear like a swarm of angry bees. Course I did. He lies through his teeth.

How could he even think about reading his lines when he spent hours of his night staring down his phone as he deeply contemplated the pros and cons of calling you up.

If I tell her how I feel, it makes everything fucking weird.

Or you get to live out your very own rom-com!

Or she never wants to speak to me again

Or she also confesses her deep, profound love for you.

Or..she doesn’t feel the same way and breaks my fucking heart into a million tiny pieces!

Or your dreams come true, Dieter.

-

You met Dieter Bravo through a friend of a friend at one of the movie star’s infamous parties. Dieter was drunk, a bit of a stumbling mess, but when his warm, and slightly clammy palm wrapped around your own, you knew you were donefore. And how was it possible for a scruffy man such as himself to have the kindest, softest, warmest brown eyes you ever had the pleasure of gazing into?

No, you were not in love with Dieter Bravo. He was just your friend..with the occasional benefits. Nothing more, nothing less.

When Dieter finds himself alone in his too big of a house for another night, he packs a bowl, and then another, and another. He takes a relaxing bath, alone with nothing but the comfort of his own fist wrapped around his cock. His lashes flutter shut, plush lips parting as he sinks further into the chamomile scented bubbles.

You told him once that chamomile should help him sleep better. He sent his assistant out the next day to buy chamomile tea, and literally any and all the chamomile scented products that she could find.

You took a bath together once, and he vividly remembers dragging his nose across the base of your neck, inhaling the sweet aroma while you nearly dozed off in his saccharine grip. Muscles relaxed, limbs pliant under the soapy water.

But you weren’t here. You were thousands of miles away on a girls trip with some of your single friends. It was the trip that finally made it out of the group chat, and it happened to fall on the week of Valentine’s Day.

Wait, that’s today, right? Shit. How pathetic. He thinks to himself, stroking his cock faster, creating ripples in the sudsy water.

Yeah, so fucking pathetic. Alone on fucking Valentine’s Day, and higher than a goddamn kite.

He doesn’t come, and while that in itself should be frustrating, he accepts his fate of misery while the temperature of the water becomes too cold to bear and he’s forced to retreat.

He packs another bowl, yanks his leftover Taco Bell from the fridge and eats it cold, like the feeling of his heart.

His king sized bed feels even larger than usual, and he chuffs a laugh, taking another bite of his half eaten crunch wrap supreme.

That’s because I’m fucking alone on Valentine’s Day.

He knows he’s not really alone. But on a day that is all about love, he sure as hell doesn’t feel the love.

He misses the way you would roll over mid sleep and drape your arm across his bare stomach. Your fingers would play with the dark, soft hair that led down to his happy trail while you drooled into the crook of his neck, soft snores escaping past your parted lips. He found it endearing. You were like a koala, and he was the tree branch of your choosing.

He so badly wanted to be your tree branch right now.

Was that lame? Probably. But Dieter could give less of a shit about any of that. He missed you, and the feeling ate away at him, carving a hole in his chest and yanking his heart right out.

He didn’t mind that you would accidentally kick him off the side of the bed, or steal all the covers. He loved it when you would talk in your sleep, babbling about pure nonsense that somehow to his ears made perfect sense.

Okay, so he missed you…a lot. He wasn’t the only person to miss someone this much. Hell, maybe even his neighbor was going through the same feelings and emotions as he was.

Love. Yeah, that’s what he was feeling. He was in love with you, and you had no fucking idea how he truly felt.

He tossed and turned, fluffed down his pillows, scrolled on his phone, watching his favorite saved tik toks, and he even tried listening to the soothing sounds of a thunderstorm through a podcast on Spotify. None of it was working. He couldn’t sleep, and you were to blame.

That’s how Dieter Bravo found himself in his kitchen, fully exposed sans some fluffy slippers on his feet that had seen better days. He dug through his pantry till he found the familiar box of chamomile tea. He let out a sigh of relief and tore open the silver foil with his teeth.

His phone screen read 2:30a.m as the kettle on the stove whistled loudly in his eardrums.

The familiar scent of chamomile coated his senses in a warmth that could only be described as you as he let the tea bag steep in his favorite chipped mug.

His knuckles drummed along the countertop nervously as he stared down his phone once more. He let out a huff, bringing one hand to scratch at the patches in his scraggly beard.

As steam billowed from the mug next to him, he finally picked up his phone and dialed your number.

He chewed on the tip of his thumbnail, eyes dancing nervously as the dial tone rang, and rang. He was ready to hang up and toss his phone in the garbage disposal when you finally answered.

His heart skipped a beat and his weed-hazed mind couldn’t keep up with the rate that words were flowing past his lips.

“Petal? Hey, happy Valentine’s Day. Well—er, happy belated Valentine’s Day? ‘Suppose it’s already over. Uh—hope I’m not bothering you, I just couldn’t sleep, so I’m in my kitchen having a cup of chamomile tea, like you suggested. Fuck, I’m rambling, aren’t I? I smoked a few too many bowls so my brain is a bit scrambled. Anyway, I miss you, baby. I’m so lonely, and I wish you were here.”

His stoned rambling continued on as you listened silently, holding your phone close to your ear and swatting at your friend's arm when they asked who was on the phone. The club music was booming at the same rate that your heart was pounding in your chest.

“Hi, Dee. I miss you too. I've been thinking...when I get back, can we grab dinner sometime?" You warmly suggest.

His pupils are blown wide like two shiny marbles illuminated under the soft glow of the moonlight trickling in through his tall kitchen windows.

“Fuck yes. I’d fucking love to grab dinner with you sometime, Petal.” He rasps softly through the receiver.

banners made by the lovely @saradika 💗

I no longer have a taglist so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic notifications and updates!

[void-wolfie]

How'd You Do That?

summary: you have a panic attack right before your first premiere. [request]

pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader

tw: panic attack, my terrible writing (let me know if I need to add anything)

words: 1.5k

a/n: this is one of the rare times where I can say it took me so long to get to a request because I had too many ideas. I was watching my favorite show the other day and they use this idea and I couldn't stop thinking of a Jenna x R scene with it (bonus points if you know what show it's based off of)

*disclaimer; please don't use this tactic to stop a panic attack, it could actually make things worse. I only wrote it like this because it's fiction and cute.

"You did it, kid,"

Those were the first words out of your dad's mouth when he called you.

You did it.

The words bounced around in your head, filling you with excitement and dread. There was a pit in your stomach, and you had the urge to puke, you weren't sure if that was a good thing or not.

You did it.

That was a year ago, news had just gotten out that you'd be in a new summer film, set to co-star with none other than Miss Jenna Ortega herself. At the time, you were a no-name actor. You'd been in a few small things here and there, a few supporting roles. But you were nothing compared to the young sensation herself.

You'd gotten a rocky start; you were an anxious mess at the start of filming. But who wouldn't be when they were sitting so close to their celebrity crush.

Somewhere along the way, the anxiety faded. She wasn't The Jenna Ortega anymore; she was just Jenna. She wasn't the actress you'd been looking up to since the start of your career, but a pretty girl with a million freckles and a love of dad jokes. She became your best friend. The girl you'd call at one am to confess all your worries to, the girl who'd call you every day and made sure you ate because sometimes you'd forget, the girl who didn't know a lick of Spanish yet could still pull off the most amazing accent, and the girl you would text first thing every morning.

You sat in the car, wringing your hands nervously.

You were supposed to get out of the car five minutes ago, but you couldn't. Your legs felt like Jello and your vision was spinning just a bit.

All that filming and it was finally the moment of truth. The day of the premiere. Would people like you? Would they like the movie? What if your acting was terrible? You'd never been to a premiere like this before, what if you embarrassed yourself? Or-

You were freaking out. You could hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears, erratically beating in your chest. It felt like someone had knocked the air out of you, squeezing your lungs and making it impossible to breathe. And your hands; they were clammy and cold, yet somehow also hot, and they wouldn't stop shaking.

Jenna was sitting next to you in the car, tinted windows hiding the two of you from the sea of flashing cameras outside. She had been through her fair share of premieres. She knew what to expect, she knew how to act and what to do. You on the other hand, you'd never been to one. She'd been watching you with worried eyes all day, watching as your anxiety built as the day went on.

"Hey, it's going to be alright," She grabbed your hands, interlocking your fingers with hers. She'd hoped the physical contact might help calm you, but it didn't seem to ease your nerves.

Your eyes flitted down to your hands interlaced with Jenna's, her black nail polish contrasting against her tan skin.

Being close to Jenna always made you feel better, yet it didn't seem to be helping this time.

Your anxiety was at an all-time high, crippling you from the inside out. Your throat squeezed a little tighter as if you weren't struggling to breathe enough already.

"I'll be right there with you the whole time, ok?" She squeezed your hands reassuringly, but it didn't do anything to quell the raging storm inside.

Your eyes traveled back to the window. The flashing lights, the reporters circling like ravenous vultures, the way the other actors were already out there making everything look so easy while you were in the midst of a breakdown... It was too much...

Your breathing got a little more ragged, shallow uneven breaths wracking your chest. You closed your eyes, focusing on just trying to calm down.

Jenna's eyebrows scrunched in confusion, watching the way your chest heaved and hands squeezed hers tighter. It only took her a few seconds to figure out what was happening, she wasn't any stranger to panic attacks.

"Breathe with me. In and out," She exaggerated her breathing, trying to encourage you to slow your own, "In and out,"

But you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried. The feeling of not being in control of something as simple as breathing made you panic even more.

"I- I can't-"

"Hey, look at me," you felt her finger under your chin, tilting your face to look at her. But you made sure to keep your eyes shut. You didn't want to look into those big brown eyes and show her just how vulnerable you were, you'd rather suffocate.

"y/n, please," her voice cracked ever so slightly, composure dropping for just a split second. She was worried about you. Worried about how you were spiraling out of control, and you wouldn't let her help.

Her mind was blank, not sure what to do. She had one idea left, though she wasn't sure if it'd help or make things entirely worse, "I have an idea, do you trust me?"

If this backfired... Well, she didn't want to think about that.

You nodded, still attempting to calm down. Your nerves felt like they were on fire as you struggled to breathe, your heartbeat still thumping loudly in your ears.

A second passed. Then two. You were about to open your eyes to see what bright idea Jenna had when a pair of lips smashed against yours.

The whole world stopped. All you could focus on was the pair of soft lips pressed against yours and the warm hand cupping your cheek.

Wow.

She pulled away and the world stood still.

Everything felt quiet. That nagging voice in the back of your skull wasn't there. The sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears had dimmed. Even the sound of the crowds outside seemed much smaller.

Jenna didn't think her idea would work. But you already seemed a bit better. Your hands had stopped shaking so violently and your breathing had mostly returned to normal.

"y/n?" Now Jenna was the one panicking. What if she just ruined your friendship? She couldn't lose you...

Your mind was strangely quiet for once. And you were only aware of two things. Firstly, wow. Secondly, do it again.

"y/n?" Jenna's voice finally pulled you from whatever trance you were in.

"Would it be wrong, to ask you to do that again?" Your eyes were still closed. Part of you was scared to open them again. What if you opened them and she wasn't there? What if it was all just a dream?

Jenna wasn't sure how to answer that. Would it be wrong? The two of you were coworkers after all. But she didn't really care.

It took her a second to think about what you were asking, and even less than that to throw the question out the window and kiss you again.

It was soft, simple, and sweet. It was everything you could ever ask for from a second kiss.

The minute Jenna pulled away all you could think of was the missing warmth. The way it felt like finding your other half just to be ripped apart.

Silence filled the air, neither of you sure who would speak first.

"How'd you do that?" You finally relaxed, opening your eyes to find her big brown ones looking back, full of concern and adoration.

"Do what?"

"You stopped my panic attack,"

"I read somewhere that getting someone to hold their breath can stop a panic attack, when I kissed you, you held your breath," you couldn't help but notice the small blush spread across her cheeks.

"Did you mean it? Like, did you want to kiss me?"

"Would it be wrong of me to say I did?"

Your eyes lit up. She wanted to kiss you? Does that mean she likes you?

Shouting and cheering from outside caught the attention of you and Jenna, heads darting over to the window to watch the cheering crowds outside; all of them oblivious to what just happened between you and your co-star.

"We have to go, don't we?" You were a bit disappointed. You didn't want to leave the safety of the car, you wanted to talk this out with Jenna.

"Unfortunately," Jenna noticed the pout that took over your features, the way you gripped her hand a bit tighter for comfort, "But I'll be right there the whole time, ok? And we can even leave early if you want."

You nodded, still not exactly happy to be going, but going with Jenna was better than going solo.

Jenna pushed open the car door. Instantly flashing lights and people calling yours and Jenna's names filled the air. You could feel the anxiety bubbling up again. But just as quickly as it started, it went away. Jenna's hand gave yours a little squeeze, reminding you she was right there.