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adascore · 4 months

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The Winner Takes It All

pairings: alexia putellas x england!reader / engwnt x captain!reader / aitana bonmati x england!reader / jenni hermoso x alexia putellas

warnings: swearing. angst. jealousy. world cup loss for england. crying. strong language.

author’s note: right when everything seems to finally fall into place, the world is witness to the fall of an all-time great.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | masterlist

August, 2023 - Sydney, Australia

''And Y/N Y/L puts England into the World Cup final for the first time in their history! Captain Fantastic!''

Even 4 days later, the echoes of their semifinal win against the Australian team continued to send shivers down her spine. The heartbreak of the previous World Cup defeats was still present within her, but the captain felt empowered and ready to face anyone that would be sent her way.

The looks on the girls' faces as she had put another ball into the back of the net were ingrained in her mind, the sheer happiness with which they ran to her is something she will not forget any time soon.

They would play the final against Spain, a final they must absolutely win- not only for the title, but for the dignity and integrity of the game.

Y/N had been supportive of the 15 Spanish players that had taken a stance against the treatment the team had received from their coach and federation. She didn't know any of them on a personal level, but the England player has always been one of the biggest advocates of the women's game, so she wanted everyone to know on which side she stood.

Some of the girls had reached out, thanking her for lifting them up and shedding more light on the situation. However, none of those girls would be playing against her in the final as they did not receive a call-up.

She found it difficult to decipher whether most of the Spanish players liked her or not. A lot of them were from the Barcelona team and well… she did not have the best history with them when she wore the Lyon shirt.

There wasn't any hostility, but the striker had stopped them from winning several more trophies, so she figured they would gladly maximize any chance to take one away from her as well.

Unlike last year's Champions League final, this one wasn't being dubbed as ''Putellas vs. Y/L'', instead Alexia's name had been replaced with Aitana's.

''What's it going to take to win against a very in-form Spain tomorrow?'' One of the reporters asked the England captain.

''Goals.'' Y/N answered, matter-of-fact, having the media room chuckling.

She had been relieved to not have to share the press conference with the Spanish team, having to act cordially with Vilda was not on her agenda.

It was the morning of the final when she first encountered the Spaniards, both squads being allowed to do their pitch inspections. Their opponents were already spread out on the pitch when the English side entered the stadium, decked in black suits while the Lionesses wore their light blue tracksuits.

Keira and Lucy clung to their Barcelona teammates, delighted to see them. Alessia, Ella and Mary walked over to Ona, while the remaining Brits stayed in their own smaller groups.

Y/N was the last player to make her way onto the grass, clearly not in any hurry whatsoever. She entered with Arjan, in an engaged conversation with the Dutchman about something that had happened during training.

As if there was an AirTag on the England captain, Alexia's eyes immediately found her from where she was standing with Lucy, Jenni and Laia. She immediately noted the confidence and aura that was radiating off of the younger woman, seemingly not bothered about the major final that would be happening that night.

Alexia observed how she gave the assistant coach a pat on the arm before inspecting the stadium on her own, walking on the sidelines without anyone by her side.

The Catalan's attention was solely on the Brit, long forgotten that she was in the middle of a conversation with her teammates.

Should I? No, I shouldn't bother her, she seems content on her own. I kinda want to talk to her, though. Alexia's thoughts were clouded with the dilemma on whether to approach Y/N or not, finding it a great opportunity to see where they currently stood with one another.

She knew there was a chance it could lead to an awkward encounter again, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she at least needed to try. However, another part of her held back, afraid of rejection.

Taking a deep breath, she moved her feet towards the striker. ''Sorry, just one minute.'' Alexia excused herself from their small huddle, biting the bullet.

Lucy, before anyone else, noticed where she was headed. ''Ale, I wouldn't do that- oh, she can't hear me, anyway.'' The defender brushed her own warning off, realizing it had no use as the skipper was already too far.

''Why shouldn't she talk to her?'' Laia inquired, confused about Lucy's attempt to stop her friend.

''Y/N has this thing where she likes to be on her own while doing the pitch inspections, I don't know where it came from, but she doesn't like to be bothered.'' The Brit explained to them.

The trio, lacking any subtlety, stared as Alexia walked to the sidelines, the unaware England captain clearly her target. ''For an introvert she sure likes to put herself in uncomfortable situations.'' Jenni bluntly remarked, soliciting chuckles from Laia and Lucy.

''Nah, she'll be fine.'' The Spanish defender said, choosing to be optimistic about it.

On the other side of the pitch, Alexia was feeling anything but fine as she got closer to Y/N with each step she took. She'd faintly heard Lucy calling out for her, but she'd pressed on, determined to make this work.

''Hey,'' Alexia greeted Y/N, her voice coming out smaller than she would have wanted.

The striker turned to her, caught by surprise at her sudden appearance. ''Oh, hey.'' She replied, her tone cautious yet not unfriendly.

''How are you?'' The midfielder asked, internally cursing at herself for startling her.

Y/N nodded, a hint of a smile on her face. ''Good, how are you?''

''Me too, thanks,'' Alexia's voice was steadier now, feeling the tension slightly dissipate between them, ''I'm excited for tonight.''

The younger woman nodded in understanding, her expression softening. ''Same, will be tough.''

There was a moment of awkward silence, neither quite sure how to proceed further. Y/N expectantly looked at Alexia, wishing for the midfielder to either extend the conversation or go back to her original conversation on the other side of the field.

''Uh, that was a nice goal against Australia, by the way. Really good.'' Alexia quickly offered, breaking the silence.

Y/n chuckled at the mention of her goal, her eyes twinkling. ''Thank you,'' she said, ''it's great to see you back with Spain.'' The sincerity was evident in her voice, almost catching the Spanish skipper off guard.

''Thank you, it's nice to be here with the team.''

''How's your knee doing?'' Y/N briefly glanced down to her competitor's leg, curious about the status.

Alexia hesitantly nodded. ''A lot better. Not a total 100%, but the recovery is going well.''

''That's great, I'm happy for you.''

The Spaniard smiled, a warm feeling embracing her. ''Thank you.''

A silence fell over them again, though it might have been the least awkward one so far out of all the interactions they've had.

''Uh, I have to get back to my, uh, thing,'' Y/N held up her earphones that were connected to her phone, ''but, uh, good luck tonight.''

''Yeah, sorry, uh, you too.'' Alexia stumbled, nervously taking a step back and giving the Brit an uneasy smile.

Y/N gave her a quick nod before turning away, slipping her earphones back in and walking on the sidelines of the pitch. She was the only person on the pitch who was actually taking the inspection in ''pitch inspection'' seriously as she observed the grass while strolling around the stadium.

Alexia stood there for a moment, watching her go, a mixture of emotions swirling inside her. She felt a strange sense of satisfaction mixed with a twinge of something she couldn't quite place. Shaking her head, she turned and headed back to her teammates.

Lucy raised an eyebrow as her club captain rejoined the group. ''You seemed to get more out of her than I usually do.''

Alexia shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. ''Just catching up.''

''Catching up… nice.'' Jenni recited her words, a skeptical look in her eyes.

''Yes, very nice,'' the Barcelona captain dropped her smile, ''anyway- where were we?''

So the winner takes it all, the loser has to fall

It's simple and it's plain, why should I complain?

The stadium was alive with cheers and celebrations, but for Y/N, the echoes of disappointment drowned out the jubilant sounds. She stood on the pitch, staring blankly at the sea of happy faces, her mind replaying the moments that led to England's defeat against the Spanish.

In the midst of the celebrations for the opposing team, Y/N's gaze lingered on the blue jerseys scattered around the pitch, a lot of them on the ground now.

Her feet were nailed to the ground, unable to move herself towards her team and help them up like the leader she is.

However, she could do nothing but stare at their agony.

She failed.

She had fucking failed.

There had been many opportunities for her to equalize the score, yet she hadn't been clinical enough. Shots that usually would find the back of the net, went wide or were blocked by a defender or by Coll.

A few minutes passed as she finally managed to force herself towards the other players, almost walking in shame to her teammates.

Ella and Alessia were the first two she encountered, both girls with tears in their eyes, a drastic contrast to their usual demeanor.

''Come here, my girls.'' Y/N motioned for them to walk into her arms, which they immediately did, seeking comfort in their captain.

Their heads rested on either sides of her shoulders, both sniffling in her neck as she felt their tears staining her kit. She caressed their backs, while observing how their other teammates were being consoled.

Y/N was the one to pull away first, silently signaling she would go up to the remaining members of their squad.

She passed Lucy, who was embraced by Mariona. The striker briefly ruffled the defender's head, while muttering a congratulations to the Barcelona player.

A bit further down the pitch, she saw Mary being helped up by a bunch of teammates, the Manchester United goalkeeper in complete despair.

But before she could take another step, a hand wrapped around her wrist, halting her in her tracks.

''Hey, Y/N.''

Sarina appeared in front of her, her expression somber yet supportive.

She gave the coach a sad smile as the Dutchwoman wrapped her arms around her player. ''You did very well.''

''I'm sorry.'' Y/N whispered back, the disappointment audible.

''Don't apologize, I'm very proud of you,'' the older woman reassured, giving her a gentle squeeze.

The coach pulled her back, her hands resting on her shoulders. ''You can let go, you know? The match is done, don't keep everything inside.'' Sarina softly mumbled, lightly concerned over the captain's stoic face and the visible tremor in her hands.

Y/N simply nodded, not saying anything further. Despite the encouragement, she remained outwardly composed. Though, Sarina could see the raw emotion simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment.

With a final squeeze of her shoulder, Sarina offered one last glimmer of solace before reluctantly stepping back, leaving the captain to herself.

Y/N's original destination had been Mary, though by the time her conversation with her coach had finished, the goalkeeper was nowhere in sight.

''Good match, you still give me trouble after all these years.'' Irene interjected her thoughts, her stuck-out hand appearing before her.

The Brit chuckled at her words, shaking her hand. ''Thanks, and congrats. You've had a good tournament.''

''Thank you, Y/L. You too.''

They shared a quick hug before going their own ways again, the respect from their Lyon-PSG days never having withered away.

As she traversed the pitch, she encountered various teammates, each bearing the weight of defeat in their own way. With a comforting touch on the shoulder, a shared look of understanding or a warm embrace, she conveyed her support without needing to utter a single word.

Among the Spanish players, there were nods of acknowledgment and brief exchanges of congratulations.

While she wasn't particularly close with any of them compared to her teammates, her facial expression and overall posture didn't invite further interaction. She managed to convey her respect and acknowledgment of their achievement without seeking deeper engagement.

She also made her way to the three officials in the center of the pitch, extending her hand towards them.

Meanwhile, the other captain on the pitch observed her from afar, her eyes tracing the familiar figure moving through the post-match formalities.

Alexia made note of the way Y/N's shoulders were tense, and how her movements were almost robotic.

As she further analyzed her, a strange and unfamiliar feeling settled inside her. It was a sensation she couldn't quite put into words, a mixture of empathy, sadness, and a strange sense of connection.

She had never experienced such intense empathy for an opponent, especially not in the aftermath of a major final victory. Typically, her focus would be on celebrating with her teammates and reveling in the joy of winning. But now, she found herself feeling more sorrow for Y/N's defeat than happiness for her own success.

Memories of the previous year's Champions League final flooded Alexia's mind, where she had been in her position, grappling with the crushing weight of failure as the leader of her team. She saw a reflection of herself in the English striker, recognizing the familiar struggle of trying to mask one's emotions in the aftermath of defeat.

Recalling the moment when Y/N had offered her comfort and admiration after that match, Alexia felt a sudden urge to reciprocate. The Brit's words had given her a lot of strength when she lost, and now, she wanted to do the same. With the image of Y/N's arm wrapped around her from the previous year firmly etched in her mind, Alexia took a deep breath and approached the England captain. Each step felt weighted with uncertainty, yet she was driven by an inexplicable urge to offer her support.

With the image of Y/N's arm wrapped around her from the previous year firmly etched in her mind, Alexia took a deep breath and approached the England captain. Each step felt weighted with uncertainty, yet she was driven by an inexplicable urge to offer her support.

Alexia's expression softened with sympathy and understanding as she made it to the center of the field. ''Y/N,'' she said gently, her arm instinctively reaching out to wrap around the Brit's shoulders, ''I know it's not the result you wanted, but you should be incredibly proud of yourself. You were one of the best this World Cup.''

Y/N managed a tight-lipped smile, though her eyes betrayed the lingering disappointment. ''Thanks,'' she replied, her tone tinged with bitterness, ''it's good to see you back on the field. Even if it's only for 10 minutes.''

The Spaniard chose to ignore the passive-aggressive comment, recognizing it as a product of frustration rather than genuine malice. ''Thank you,'' she replied calmly, ''it was a great battle today.''

The England captain gave a curt nod, subtly attempting to shrug off Alexia's comforting embrace. But the Catalan held tight, refusing to let her go.

''Seriously, Y/N, you were amazing these few weeks,'' Alexia persisted, her voice gentle yet firm, ''you led your team to this moment.'' She attempted again to console her rival, or former rival… friend? It wasn't clear. It had never been clear.

''I appreciate it,'' Y/N responded, her tone softening slightly, ''you guys worked hard, considering the circumstances. Congrats, enjoy it.''

With a gentle yet deliberate movement, Y/N extricated herself from the embrace, offering a half-hearted smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She was acutely aware of the cameras capturing every moment of their interaction, and the potential backlash she might face for her indifference. But in that moment, consumed by the sting of defeat, she couldn't bring herself to care one bit.

Alexia watched her for a few seconds, feeling something that felt equivalent to a slap in the face. She perfectly understood Y/N's pain, and could imagine what the England captain was thinking in her head. But she'd only meant well by her words, and affection.

She didn't stare too long at her departing figure, knowing how miserable it might look to other people. The midfielder resumed her small tour of shaking hands with all the opponents, while also congratulating her own teammates.

It irritated her how effortlessly the striker's indifference had dampened her spirits. Alexia couldn't help but feel a twinge of bitterness, resentful of the power Y/N seemed to hold over the Spanish captain's emotions without even remotely trying.

Why is she allowing it to sour her mood?

''Y/N.'' She heard her name being called somewhere in the dressing room, turning around without knowing who to even look for.

Keira appeared in front of her, already showered and changed into something clean. ''Hey, don't feel obligated to do this, but I kinda need a favor from you…'' The Barcelona midfielder looked a bit flushed speaking to the captain.

Y/N slowly nodded, not sure where this was heading.

''Uh, Aitana- you know Aitana, right?'' She quickly asked, suddenly feeling insecure about the player's knowledge of her teammate.

The captain snorted, finding the question a bit ridiculous considering they just played a final against her. ''Yeah, I know her.''

Keira nodded, cringing at herself for even asking. ''Right, so you're kind of like, one of her idols, and she would really love for you two to swap kits.''

Y/N softly smiled at the sweet gesture, while also feeling immensely honored by the fact that Aitana considers her somewhat of a role model. ''Uh, yeah, that's fine. Do you know where she is?''

''She's standing outside the dressing room right now.'' Keira sheepishly grinned.

''Of course she is,'' the older player sighed with affection, ''uh, I'm gonna shower first, and then I'll go outside, okay? I want to wash this entire day away.'' She grimaced.

''Alright, I'll tell her,'' Keira said before briefly stopping the striker from walking to the shower area, ''thank you.'' She sincerely said, her eyes filled with gratitude.

''Ah, don't mention it.'' Y/N brushed it off, squeezing the midfielder's arm.

It took her about 20 minutes to actually make it outside the changing room. Had she wasted time on purpose to keep the person who had just robbed her of a World Cup title waiting for her? No one could tell.

''Hey, congrats again.'' Y/N greeted the Spaniard, who looked incredibly nervous.

Aitana smiled brightly, carefully holding her own shirt in her hands. ''Thank you. Congrats on your tournament, you played great the entire time.''

''Thanks. Here you go.'' The England captain handed her shirt over, the Barcelona player doing the same.

''Gracias,'' Aitana thanked her, looking like a kid at Christmas, ''you've been my idol for a long time, and it's amazing to play these kinds of matches against you. You're an amazing player.'' She continued her complimenting, not able to stop herself from praising her.

Y/N awkwardly accepted her words, she'd never been the best at accepting such loving compliments, especially when they came from fellow players. ''That means a lot, thank you. But you're like the best player in the world right now, I'm much more honored, believe me,'' Y/N chuckled, making Aitana blush, ''also congrats on the Champions League, you were seriously one of the best players the entire tournament, and also in the Spanish League. I've been a big fan of you since Budapest.''

Aitana looked overwhelmed to say the least. The Champions League final in Budapest had taken place in 2019, meaning the Lyon striker had been a fan of hers for over 4 years.

''No, thank you so much, but you're the best, always.'' The Spaniard brushed it off, genuinely not believing there was a better player than Y/N in women's football.

The Brit grinned at the reply. ''Well, I can't wait to see you lift the Ballon d'Or this year.'' She winked.

''I- I don't know about that.'' Aitana stammered, her cheeks warm with embarrassment.

Y/N laughed softly, a warmth in her face that made the midfielder flustered. ''Trust me, you should pick out an outfit already,'' she teased, ''but, seriously, keep doing what you're doing right now, players like you are really rare, and all of us are so blessed to watch you play right now.'' She encouraged, her tone genuine.

''Thank you, that is very kind.'' Aitana responded, her voice barely above a whisper. She was still in disbelief that this conversation was actually taking place.

''You're very welcome.''

''Did you get it?'' Ona asked Aitana as soon as the midfielder entered the dressing room.

The Catalan held up the shirt to her friend, proudly showing off the emblazoned ''Y/L'' on the back of it. ''I had to wait 20 minutes.'' She sighed, sitting down in her cubby.

''She probably made you wait on purpose.'' Mariona remarked, taking a sip of her water.

''No, she was very kind.'' Aitana brushed the comment off with a shake of her head. The Barcelona star neatly folded the jersey on her lap, delicately brushing away the remaining stains of grass and dirt.

''Ale, you're not listening to me.'' Jenni nudged the captain, an offended look on her face as her friend didn't seem to be paying much attention to her rambling.

''Huh, what?'' Alexia stuttered, caught off guard, looking to her side.

A playful eye roll accompanied a light slap on the arm. ''Am I boring you?''

''No, no, please continue,'' the captain insisted, realizing she had drifted off again. She forced herself to listen attentively, though her mind kept drifting back to the jersey exchange between Aitana and Y/N.

''Okay, what is it? You're clearly not focused on me right now.'' The midfielder sighed, observing her friend's distracted gaze.

Shaking her head, Alexia tried to dismiss her thoughts. ''No, continue, I'm sorry- nothing on my mind.''

Jenni's eyes followed the captain's gaze to the blue England jersey on Aitana's lap. She looked back at her teammate, noticing her fixated expression. ''You're not telling me that even a damn shirt with her name on it bothers you.''

''What do you mean?'' Alexia asked, embarrassed as she was called out.

Jenni's eyes shot up in judgment. ''I get that the comparisons weren't nice while they were happening, but letting her bother you this much is crazy, Ale.''

''She doesn't bother me.'' Alexia retorted immediately.

A snicker followed. ''Yeah, and I'm Jesus.'' She responded, sarcastically.

''Just forget about it.'' Alexia started, but Jenni interjected.

''Hey, I'm sorry, okay? You don't want to talk about it?'' The Spaniard apologized, realizing her friend wasn't enjoying the teasing.

''No, I do. Just… not here, I don't need the whole room to know about it.'' Alexia whispered, eyes darting around.

Jenni nodded, sending her friend's discomfort with the others. ''Alright, should we go to the bathroom?'' She suggested, trying to make it seem as subtle as possible.

The captain nodded, a grateful look in her eyes. ''Yeah,'' she smiled, ''thanks.'' She softly muttered as they made their way outside.

As they stepped into the quiet solitude of the bathroom, Alexia let out a sigh of relief, feeling grateful for Jenni's understanding. Leaning against the sink, she ran a hand through her hair, trying to collect her thoughts.

Jenni stood beside her, offering a reassuring smile. ''You okay?''

The Ballon d'Or winner hesitated for a moment before responding. ''Yeah, just… and this is gonna sound stupid, but the shirt does make me upset.''

The Tigres player slowly nodded, trying to understand her point. ''Okay… and do you know why?''

She remained silent for a few moments, almost too full of shame over the answer- the true answer to that question. ''I think- you know, we've never exchanged shirts… and she does it with so many other people on our team.''

Jenni reached out, gently squeezing her friend's shoulder. ''It's not just the shirt, is it?''

She knew her friend too well to think this was all about a stupid football jersey- there was more, and Jenni wanted to know what that entailed.

Alexia remained quiet, glancing down at the floor.

''Ale, I'm not dumb. I see what she does to you.''

''She doesn't do anything-''

''Shut up,'' Jenni shook her head, cutting her off, ''I want to listen to you, and help you, but you have to start being honest to yourself, Putellas.''

Alexia's facade crumbled under Jenni's persistent gaze, her defenses weakening with each passing moment. She let out a resigned sigh, knowing she couldn't hide from the truth any longer.

"She… she is so freaking annoying. You have no idea, Jenni. She makes my blood boil. Every single time we're on the pitch together, it's like she knows exactly how to get under my skin. It's the way she plays, the way she talks, the way she looks at me like she's already won. And I know it's all part of the game, but fuck, it's so fucking annoying,"

Jenni leaned against the wall, crossing her arms, and nodded for her to continue.

''But then, the match is over, and all I want is for her to come up to me and ask me for a freaking shirt swap. It's so ridiculous, I know. But it's always someone else that she goes to. First it was Patri, in Turin. Then, at the friendly last year, I thought she was going to ask me, but no, she asked me to give my jersey to a fucking teammate of hers. And now Aitana has one as well? It's so fucking stupid. She can exchange with Aitana, but not with me?''

Alexia's frustration was palpable as she continued to vent. "And the worst part is, I don't even know where we fucking stand with each other. Like, in Turin, she was so nice and she comforted me when the match was done, and she was, yeah, just so nice. But today, it was like she wanted nothing to do with me, and I get it, it's a big final to lose, but still! I can't stand it. I want to be mad at her, but she makes it impossible.''

Jenni watched her with a mixture of sympathy and amusement. "Ale, maybe she doesn't realize how much it bothers you."

Alexia threw her hands up, a bitter laugh escaping. ''She knows exactly what she's doing. She does this on purpose, it's like she gets some kind of twisted pleasure out of it.''

Her friend raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. ''Or maybe she doesn't know either. You're giving her too much power, Ale.''

The captain shook her head. ''It doesn't feel like that.''

''What does it feel like?'' Jenni asked.

''Like she's playing mind games with me.''

Jenni remained silent, having Alexia almost hanging her head in shame. ''It's fucking stupid.'' She cursed under her breath.

The older woman placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. ''First off, it's not stupid, your feelings are valid,'' Jenni reassured her, ''and secondly… I have never seen you like this, and it kind of worries me, Ale.''

Alexia let out a heavy sigh. ''Sorry, you don't need to worry. I just- I don't know what to think anymore. I feel like an idiot for caring this much about a shirt.''

''You're not an idiot,'' Jenni denied with a smile, ''you want her to acknowledge you. It's not a crime, she's a great player, it's normal.''

Her younger teammate nodded, though not convinced.

Jenni sighed, stepping closer to her friend. ''Why don't you take the first step? Ask her for a swap yourself.''

''Ask her myself?'' Alexia laughed mockingly.

''What's the worst that can happen? She says no? At least you'd have your answer.'' She pointed out.

''I don't think I can…'' Alexia muttered in response, looking down at the bathroom floor.

''Why not?'' Jenni pressed gently.

Alexia hesitated, her words coming out in a rush. ''Wha- what if she, you know, enjoys that I want her- her shirt,'' she quickly corrected herself, ''I honestly think she would enjoy rejecting me.''

''Ale,'' Jenni broke the silence in the room, ''do you… do you like her?''

Alexia's eyes shot to Jenni's before darting away again. ''What?'' She stammered, caught off guard by the question.

''I know how you act when you like someone,'' Jenni raised an eyebrow.

She adamantly shook her head in response. ''No. What the hell.''

Jenni held up her hands, a faint smile playing on her lips.. ''Hey, I wouldn't judge you. She's good-looking, she plays amazing football, has a nice accent.''

''No, I don't like her.'' She insisted, though her conviction sounded shaky, even to her own ears.

The older midfielder snickered at the weak reply, her amusement evident.

''Jenni, I don't like her. That's insane.'' Alexia continued protesting.

''Ale, you're kinda obsessed with her.'' Her friend pointed out.

'' I am not obsessed wi-''

''How many hours of footage have you dedicated to studying her before every match you play against her?'' Jenni interrupted her, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

Alexia rolled her eyes, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, but she stayed silent.

''See. Absolutely obsessed. You probably know her stats better than she does.'' Her fellow midfielder continued, her teasing tone relentless.

''I am not crazy. I'm just strategically analyzing the opponent.'' Alexia defended herself, though her words faltered slightly.

Jenni raised an eyebrow. ''You know there are 10 other players on the pitch, right?''

Alexia huffed in exasperation. ''Oh, come on. There is nothing to like about her.'' She reacted defensively.

Jenni smirked at her words. ''Not her good looks, her intelligence, her advocacy, her football skills, her sexy accent, her knowing all those different languages, her-''

''Shut up.'' Alexia interjected Jenni's teasing, her cheeks completely burned up.

Jenni chuckled, knowing she had hit a nerve. ''Okay, okay, I'll stop. You're obviously still in the denial stage.''

Alexia huffed loudly. ''You're delusional.''

''Yeah,'' the older woman sarcastically said, ''after we've had this whole conversation, I am the delusional one, Ale.'' Jenni rolled her eyes.

The Barcelona captain crossed her arms, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks again. "You're making this much bigger than it actually is.''

"Because it is a big deal," Jenni immediately retorted, ''you're clearly affected by this, and this goes way beyond whatever rivalry you two have going on.''

Alexia sighed, realizing her mask was slipping and her friend had her completely figured out.

Jenni silently stared at her friend for a few moments, wondering how long these thoughts had been brewing inside her mind. She pulled the younger woman into an embrace, gently caressing her back.

''It's okay to have these feelings, Ale. It really is. But don't bottle them up the way you have been doing, don't ignore them. That's not healthy.''

Alexia let her head rest on Jenni's shoulder, the truth of her words sinking in. ''I just hate feeling like this,'' she admitted, ''I don't even know what I want from her.''

Jenni nodded sympathetically, continuing her caressing. ''I understand that,'' she kissed the side of her head, ''I don't know when you'll see her again, but maybe, like, ask her for a shirt swap yourself? I know you think it's stupid, but you'll get a better understanding of where you stand with her.''

Alexia shook her head. "I don't know if I can do that."

''You can,'' her teammate assured her, ''I really believe you've got it all wrong. I think she'd happily exchange kits with you.''

''Maybe… yeah, maybe you're right.'' She mumbled in response.

Jenni pulled her back, not looking into her eyes. ''Just try, please. And if she doesn't want to? Guess what? There are thousands of other people who would gladly receive your shirt.''

Her friend's encouragement caused a smile to finally appear on Alexia's face, something Jenni was happy to see. ''Thanks, I really appreciate it.''

"Anytime," Jenni replied, giving her a supportive pat on the back, ''now let's get out of here, and fucking celebrate, alright?''

Alexia nodded, feeling much lighter than when they'd first walked into the bathroom. ''Yeah, let's go.''

''Let's go, chica!''

suggestions/ideas/opinions for or about the series are always welcome in my inbox!

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso fic #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas fic #engwnt x reader #aitana bonmati x reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months

Text

Mimic II

McFoord x Baby!Reader

Beth England x Baby!Reader

Summary: You're scrappy

The day that it first happens is the match against United.

It's a home game and you're very familiar with the layout as you sit by one of the girls on the bench on your leash and watch.

Mam, predictably, gets a yellow card and you screech your outrage at the ref no matter how much nice Lotte tries to calm you down.

You think Lotte is an alright babysitter but she's very easy to get to do what you want and you know Mummy doesn't like that sometimes. You think she's told Lotte that too because she's got a tight grip on your leash and doesn't let you wander into Jonas' box to scream like you can usually get her to do.

So, you have to amuse yourself by tearing up grass and getting your hands all dirty.

The game ends with a narrow win for Arsenal and Mummy comes to get you very quickly.

You tug at the buckles of your leash. "Off! Off, Mummy!"

"Sorry, gremlin," Mummy laughs," But you have to be on the leash. You know why."

You stamp your foot as Mummy cleans your hands.

"Mam not on leash!" You say finally," Mam was naughty! Yellow rectangle for Mam!"

You're making a good point. Caitlin doesn't want to quite admit that though. You're on the leash because you're naughty sometimes and Katie definitely did get a yellow card today.

She sighs.

It's not the same at all but, for the sake of fairness, Caitlin lets you win this round.

Begrudgingly and definitely to avoid a tantrum, she unclips your leash.

You look positively delighted and she catches your arm before you go running off.

"Stay where me or Mam can see you," She says," And no biting people."

You nod. "I not bite."

"Alright," She says," Go on, run wild."

You giggle hysterically as you run off. You've not quite mastered running though because you trip a few times before pulling yourself up again.

You wander through the crowd of players until you spot the United keeper that saved Mummy's goal.

That's kind of naughty, you think. Saving Mummy's goal shouldn't be allowed.

The girl's kind of tall and she looks strong. She's wearing a different coloured shirt to the other United girls so you can easily track her through the crowd.

She's talking to Leah too and you know how to recognise Leah.

When people are naughty, you usually like to bite them but Mummy told you that you're not allowed to bite today so you choose the next best thing.

Mam says you're scrappy sometimes. You don't know what that means but you think it applies to this situation.

You creep up behind the girl before slamming the top of your head into the back of her knee.

She crumbles to the ground instantly, folding over like the pieces of paper that Mam uses to make paper planes.

"Mary!" Leah shrieks as the girl rolls onto her back.

"What the fuck?!"

You stand over her and wiggle your finger right in front of her face. You stamp your foot for good measure. "No save Mummy goal! Is naughty!"

"What-? Who are you?!"

Leah's hand pulls you further away. "This is Katie and Caitlin's kid," She says," Gremlin, say sorry."

"No! Say sorry first! Save Mummy's goal!"

Thankfully, this United girl (once she's recovered from her sudden fall) takes it in her stride.

"I'm sorry, kid," She laughs," It was only doing my job."

"Naughty job!" You insist," Not happen again!"

It's not exactly an isolated incident either. It seems after every match, you find some player to fight with.

It freaks most of them out, you think, because they're big and strong and you're tiny but still very capable of getting them to the grounds.

You surprise lots of people like Auntie Macca and Auntie Lanni, who find it all so funny that they send you off to do it to their teammates too.

Mummy doesn't like it though. She says that she's raising a delinquent and Mam says it's the McCabe genes, whatever that means.

You're not stingy in who you attack. Everyone is free game but there's one person that you really enjoy fighting with.

Her name's Beth. Beth England, to be exact because there's already a Beth at Arsenal and this one plays for Spurs instead.

Mam says that Spurs is Arsenal's number one rival and you have to hate them because they play in white and white is a colour you can never keep clean.

Beth England wears the armband that Captain Kim wears so you can easily recognise her in a crowd.

She's your nemesis.

That's a big word that Mummy taught you when you were watching Phineas and Ferb a few days ago.

"You need to be very good if I let you off," She says to you and you nod even though you're lying," I mean it. No fighting with Spurs players."

You lie again and nod.

"Alright, give me a kiss first and I'll let you go."

You give Mummy a big wet kiss and immediately, you're on your way.

Mam joins you on your journey and she demonstrates how to hold your fist if you're going to fight someone. She thinks your rivalry with Beth England is funny.

Mummy doesn't like her encouraging it but she does.

"Nem-sis!" You screech when Mam guides you over.

Beth England looks confused. "Nem-sis?"

"She means nemesis," Mam explains," It's her word of the week."

"Oh, right."

"Nem-sis!" You screech again to regain her attention. "Fight me!"

Beth England clears her throat before mimicking your position and putting up her fists.

You run at her.

You don't think she expects that. You think she thinks you were going to punch her but Mam says the element of surprise is important so you crash into her legs and try to topple her over.

She stays standing and you're unable to move her but you don't stop trying.

Behind your head, Katie smothers a laugh and gives Beth a pointed look.

She nods and very carefully lays on the ground like you've forced her over.

You look triumphant and sit on her stomach to stop her from getting up again.

You poke her right between her eyes. "Arsenal best!" You proclaim," Say!"

"Never!"

"Arsenal best!" You bounce on her stomach to show that she's not going anywhere. "Say!"

"You can't make me!"

"Say or! Or go on leash for being naughty!"

That's it. You've got her trembling under your might now and she goes limp.

"Arsenal's the best!" She proclaims," Arsenal's the best! Don't put me on the leash!"

"Good!" You stand up and wiggle your finger at her. "London red! Not dirty white!"

You run back over to Mam and take her hand.

"I beat Beth England!"

"You did!" Mam says," I'm so proud of you."

"'Cause London red!"

#woso x reader #mcfoord x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #caitlin foord x reader #caitlin foord #beth england x reader #beth england #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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01zfan · 7 months

Text

pray/want | j. sc

bad boy!sungchan x church girl!reader | 9.5k words

back at it again with another installment of my sacrilegious series! hope you guys enjoy heh. loosely based off of it will come back by hozier.

contains: drug mention, hand stuff (f. and m. receiving), biblical references and allusions to mary magdalene

sacrilegious masterlist | kofi

you were too forgiving. too merciful. you were raised to think it was a strength. giving extra grace to people who don’t deserve it. forgiving those who took advantage of you.

it was a problem you had since you were a child. you always considered yourself to be empathetic towards others before you even knew what the word meant. if they were mean to you, they must have been having a bad day. if someone took your toys on the playground, they must have wanted it more. if you were pushed, they must be in a hurry. everyone in your life told you this was a strength to have. they presented your patience as if it was a holy virtue, and it was your duty to give it to everyone. your private christian school only further instilled this mindset. meeting everyone where they were often came at your expense, but you didn’t mind. school was an echo chamber of positivity and life was a bubble inside the padded walls of the church.

sungchan was your first introduction to the world outside. he was a new face at mass, round and young just like yours. you remember being confused at the way they scowled at him, how the elders pinched his sides and told him to pay attention to the preacher. he remained unbothered, always picking at the chipping paint on the pews or messing with the flimsy hand fans. you watched as they called sungchan a problem kid and a troublemaker. you think that the words they whispered about sungchan was the first time you were exposed to the harsh reality of people. you watched those words mold sungchan into the very thing they called him. whispers from the elders told you that he was out doing drugs, having sex with women, and hanging out with the wrong crowd. you remember your parents pulling you aside and telling you to not get involved with him, that he would only drag you down.

your empathetic heart couldn’t stop you from extending an olive branch to sungchan. you didn’t see him as the terrible person they claimed him to be. you saw him as a troubled boy with no guidance. he was still so young, the same age as you with baby fat present on his cheeks.

sungchan taught you that your forgiving heart was a character flaw. it was a problem you were developing, not being able to leave him alone. you were like his silent apostle, set on the mission of fixing his tumultuous relationship with the church. you would sit next to him during youth group and answer for him, singing extra loud during hymns incase he didn’t know the words. your voice had gone raw from talking to him constantly. you would talk to him for ages to only get a simple shrug or a one worded reply. it didn’t stop you, only further encouraged you to try and break down his walls.

you came to him in between mass and individual prayer when you saw him sneak out through a door in the kitchen. you found him outside leaning against the church, smoking right below the kitchen window. all someone had to do was look outside and they could see him.

“you know you’re smoking right in front of the window?” you ask him.

sungchan didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. your polite and slightly nagging voice seemed to follow him everywhere. but sungchan found himself looking to you often, loving the shocked look on your face when he’d shrug his shoulders and blow smoke clouds into the air.

“i don’t care.” sungchan says.

his tone had become flatter over the years, losing that playful lift he had when you first met him. his sentences had become deadpanned words and eyes became stone. it didn’t drive you away, it only did the opposite.

you come down the stairs, lifting your sunday dress as you did so. the flowy fabric grazed your ankles, and revealed your cute frilly socks. sungchan watched you let the dress come back down your legs, using the same hand to motion at his cigarette.

“can i try?” you ask.

sungchan has amusement on his lips as he raises his eyebrows at your question. he takes in another drag, turning his head away so he doesn’t blow smoke in your face.

“you smoke?” sungchan asks.

you shrug your shoulders, trying to copy the way sungchan did it. it feels awkward pretending not to care about anything and you’re sure sungchan can tell that your shoulders stayed up for just a moment too long.

“yeah. sometimes.” you lie.

you don’t know why you are lying to sungchan, or why the lie fell so easily from your lips. you were never the type to ever lie, telling the truth no matter what consequence fell upon you. sungchan looks towards the door to the kitchen. someone could come out at any moment and catch you.

sungchan was intrigued by you. he let his eyebrows fall back down his face and looked away from you to knock the ash from the end of his cigarette. he was intrigued how you continue to stay there while all of his attention went to the ash falling from his cigarette, something that came like second nature to him. sungchan let his eyes go to your clear jelly shoes, something he had only seen children wear. he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a little laugh seeing you nervously rock back on your heels while he basically ignored you.

once the ash had fallen to the ground sungchan walked over to you. he looked down with a smirk as he moved it to your lips. when you tried to grab it with your own hand sungchan raised it just out of your lips reach. you looked at him and he lightly shook his head.

“the smell will get on you, let me hold it.” sungchan said.

he watched you as you took your first drag from the cigarette. you almost went crosseyed to focus on the butt of the cigarette lighting up. it was fine only for a moment, before your lungs that were only used to pulling in air filled up with smog. your lungs started screaming at you and you could feel your throat burn, but sungchan looking at you expectantly egged you on.

“attagirl.” he said once he decided you were done.

he pulled the cigarette away from you and watched you intently.

you could only hold in the smoke for a second before you started coughing profusely. sungchan gently clapped his hand over your back, your face started to burn along with your throat and lungs, embarrassed at how you couldn’t stop coughing. the heat only intensified when you looked up at sungchan. being so close to sungchan made you realize how angelic he looked. he was like a cherub, with his soft cheeks and unblemished skin. you were wondering how anyone in the church could call someone so pretty such awful. he had a smile on his face while looking at you, biting his lip to not laugh in your face. he distracted you almost to the point your body forgot it had to cough, having to turn away from his face to cough into your fist. right before you could cough, you heard the screen door of the kitchen open.

“what are you two doing?” a woman said.

you recognized the woman from the congregation. she had a hand on her hip and the other clutching a purse just a little too big for her close to her chest. her dresses always matched her purse, and you always found your eyes ruefully drifting to the fraying garment of her apparel.

sungchan looked at you, like he was expecting you to lie to the woman. your heaves had turns into slightly labored breathing, clearing your throat to keep yourself from coughing. he saw your expression and decided to take matters into his own hands. he leaned against the wall of the church to hide his hand. he dropped his cigarette to the ground behind him, putting out the end with his heel. he cleared his throat and you cleared yours again. when sungchan straightened his back you did too.

“praying.” sungchan said sarcastically.

the lady rolled her eyes. you saw her sneak a pack of cigarettes back into her purse and she flicked her head towards the door.

“go back inside. they need help setting the table.” she said.

sungchan puts his hands in his pockets and starts heading towards the door. he is unfazed by the light scolding, something he has gotten used to over the years. you, however felt your heart drop at the thought of disappointing someone older than you. the shame is doubled when the older lady stops you before you go inside.

“you’re a good girl. you shouldn’t be hanging out with him. he’s a bad influence.” she said quietly.

you know sungchan could hear it, because his steps falter for a moment before he continues walking out of sight. you nod in haste, wanting the interaction to be over. the lady closes the door and you watch sungchan go past the kitchen. he continues to walk down the hallway of the church, far away from everyone else.

the lady’s warning set the dynamic for your relationship with sungchan. it didn’t stop you from seeing him, it could be argued it made you want to hang out with him more. you had become his goody-two-shoes sidekick, tagging along to his adventures and indulging yourself in his lifestyle.

you had your first drink with sungchan. you remember taking the shot, the clear liquid stinging the back of your throat and making your stomach warm. it had become more enticing to you than the blood of christ that touched your lips during communion. the cheers of your name from the unfamiliar faces around you tempted you to take another.

when your hand reached for the bottom sungchan places his hand over yours. you looked up to sungchan and found the same look on his face of when you took your first drag of the cigarette. you didn’t know a look could be so powerful, giving you the courage to do things you would’ve never done in a thousand years.

you watched sungchan’s friend get a tattoo the same day you got your first piercing in the bathroom. sungchan leaned over the sink to inspect your ear, marking the perfect place. you could feel his hot breath fan your neck as he prepped your ear for the puncture.

“you’re parents might be upset.” sungchan said.

he pulled away from your ear to look at you. he was giving you the chance to back out, to refuse the piercing. but it was that look he gave you that had you shrugging your shoulders—it was starting to come to you naturally.

“i don’t care.” you said.

the truth was you did care, but you cared more about the man dangerously close to you. your parents were the furthest thing from your mind as sungchan went back to looking at your ear, sticking a needle through your lobe. the sound you made caught both you and sungchan by surprise. you bit your lip when he did the other ear, not trying to make that sound in front of him again. your teeth nearly drew blood from your lip when sungchan moved backwards to inspect you, making sure the punctures were even.

when sungchan turned you around in the mirror he stood behind you as you checked out the new jewelry. you turned your head, trying to take it all in. you looked to your ears then sungchan, standing behind you with his hand on your shoulders.

“it’s pretty.” you said.

sungchan looked into the mirror to look into your eyes.

“yes. very pretty.” sungchan said.

just when you thought you had sungchan, he disappeared. it was like he was a ghost or a figment of your imagination. one day he was sitting next to you in the pews and the next day he wasn’t. he stopped coming to church, his parents stopped coming too. rumors spread that he had runaway after a particularly bad argument with his parents. the fact that his parents were too ashamed to come back made you assume they did something awful the church didn’t want to admit.

sungchan was even harder to get in contact with. each time you had hung out with him he came and found you. when you wanted to reach him, you realized you had no way to do so.

not being able to see him led to your imagination running wild. everyday you would go outside to the kitchen window where he would smoke, looking out into the forest that surrounded your church. your mind had helplessly come up with a scenario each time you’d walk down the steps. your mind conjured up the image of sungchan hiding in the trees, scared to be seen by anyone else but you. after seeing sungchan you’d stop in your tracks, so surprised to see him standing there. you had practiced your facial expressions, letting your eyebrows raise and your eyes get large. you saw yourself mindlessly walking over to him when he’d beckon to you. you imagined that he would bring you in for a kiss, a type of kiss that would make up for the months of all the yearning and pining.

then afterwards you imagined that sungchan would tell you how much he missed you, not being able to find god at the parties of the bottom of shot glasses. you’d then walk him back to the church and have the congregation apologize for pushing his soul to stray even further away from the path of god. you wondered about a christian wedding, going full traditional. having kids that were baptized for everyone to see. everything about you two would be by the holy book, except for sex. you don’t think you could wait that long.

your manifestation of sungchan coming to you didn’t come to fruition. you didn’t see sungchan until months later as you were leaving choir practice. the expression you had practiced didn’t pan out the way you wanted to. your binder fell from your hands, sheet music falling onto the rocky parking lot.

sungchan came over to help you quickly, catching papers before they could run away in the wind. you had bent down to take the music from him, but you were frozen, stuck in place looking at sungchan. he didn’t say a word to you until your papers were safely tucked away again in your binder, closing it and putting it back in your hands. he looked to you and you couldn’t believe your eyes. your feet were stuck to the ground keeping you both in the squat position.

“hi.” sungchan said quietly.

you nodded you head and cleared your throat. you hung onto your binder, the only thing keeping you present.

“where have you been?” your voice is barely above a whisper.

you had a white knuckle grip on your flimsy plastic binder. you don’t know why you were so nervous to ask sungchan a question. in his absence he had become someone you didn’t want to doubt, scared that he would leave you again.

sungchan’s face flashes for a moment before he stands up. he dusts himself off, metaphorically wiping your question off of him. he holds out his hand for you and you grab it, surprised at how clammy his hand is on yours.

once you’re up you still stare at him like he’s a ghost.

“can i take you somewhere?” sungchan asks.

it was dangerous to have sungchan in your life. you found yourself nodding quickly to every question he had, you think you would leave the church the same way he did if he held your hand while you walked out. seeing sungchan smile outside of the church made you wonder what life was like outside of it. maybe it was nice and you would be happier than you were here. so you nodded as he led you to the motorcycle that looked similar to his fathers.

he helped you to the back and took a helmet out of the side compartment. he coaxed your musical binder from your hands to put it in there, tightening the leather strap to keep it safe. you were nearly shaking with anxiety as sungchan put on his helmet too, throwing his leg over to straddle the seat.

the engine revved underneath you, and your hands that were previously gripping your binder were now clenched at your sides. you waited for sungchan to reach behind him and guide your hands to clasp around his waist.

“hold on tight.” sungchan said as he pushed away the kickstand.

your words were drowned out by the sound of the motorcycle leaving the parking lot. you held onto him, letting your head rest against his back as he hit the throttle. you thought that the road sungchan was taking you down at an unbelievable speed could be comparable to your life. the fear that came with your future turned to excitement when sungchan turned around and looked at you, asking if you were having fun. everything that was scary seemed fun when you had your arms around sungchan’s waist, even the idea of getting into an accident on the motorcycle turned into a thrill for you. it was the same thrill that sungchan always seemed to give you. it was one that only subsided when you used the same hand that signed the cross on yourself underneath the sheets. you pressed your hands flat against his stomach, feeling how solid he was through his shirt. sungchan’s back vibrated against your head from laughing.

sungchan didn’t move your hands until the motorcycle was parked. your eyes didn’t open until the engine stopped roaring and sungchan gently touched you to let you know you had both arrived. you don’t know how long your eyes were squeezed shut to get here. you opened your eyes to sungchan standing in front of you, helping you out of your helmet. this was somehow more intimate than having your arms wrapped around his waist as you two plummeted down the highway. you had to look away for your own good, focusing on the concert venue that had a steady stream of people going in. you saw people dressed like sungchan going in, various crowds of people were around the concert hall smoking while others tipped their heads back and wiped their noses.

“have you ever listened to music that wasn’t religious?” sungchan said.

he had leaned against his motorcycle as you took in the view around you. it felt like you were dropped in a different dimension or alternate reality from your own. you had no idea that people like this existed so close to your modest township. it was all so foreign to you that you couldn’t even find the words to describe the aesthetic. the words came and went, trying to define ripped skinny jeans and people cursing freely. what this had to do with music was beyond you, but before you could answer sungchan’s question you saw him turn his head towards someone in the moving mass of people.

“sungchan! you’re fucking late!”

you followed the voice until it landed on someone dressed similarly to sungchan. black leather jacket and ripped skinny jeans, with hair that was so black it shined underneath the street lamps. he looked younger than you and sungchan, he had an innocent look about him that betrayed the clothes he was sporting. the only thing you had in common with the person in front of you was the same beat up shoes you both everyday. you felt nervous and out of place, like you didn’t belong here.

“who is this?” the boy said.

he seemed to know you didn’t belong here either, his voice significantly lower than when he called to his friend. the boys gaze went back to sungchan after giving you a once over. you did the same, looking to sungchan like you didn’t know who you were.

“this is,” sungchan looked like he was contemplating for a moment. a hand that was supporting his body against his motorcycle pointed towards you. “my friend from church.” sungchan said.

anton’s eyes got big for a moment, head slightly tilting in confusion. it was almost like a lightbulb went off anton’s his head a second later. anton turned to you, his face suddenly neutral.

“oh. nice to meet you. i’m anton.”

he didn’t offer his hand out to you, they stayed stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. he nodded his head and you did your best to copy him. it felt just like when you started shrugging your shoulders to copy sungchan. anton took his phone from his back pocket and showed the time to sungchan. it was about to be your curfew.

“wonbin is about to be on soon.” anton said.

“let’s go then.” sungchan said.

sungchan pushed himself off his bike and started following the crowd heading towards the building. you followed behind the two men, not really having anywhere else to go. you couldn’t help but stare at every face you passed by, wondering where all these kids your age had come from.

the only indication that showed you were in your town still was that the building had the same look as everything else in your town. there was a certain archaic and abandoned look to the building on the exterior. the brick had cracks the painting was chipped, and vegetation grew along the edges. the closer you, sungchan, and anton got to the building you could make out the faded sign of what the building once was. it was a factory who knows how long ago, and judging by the size business was booming at one point. now it was honing beacon for all the rebels in your town, young adults that were the same age as you but looked wiser and seemed significantly more mature. you had always been proud of your innocence when it came to life, but your lack of experience weighed down on you heavy as you looked past the large doors into the unknown.

you saw two burly men guarding the entrance dressed in all black with shades on even though it was nighttime. both of their eyes immediately went to you, and you felt even more out of place than before. sungchan followed their eyes to see what they were looking at. he grabbed your hand and you grabbed it back, trying to seem as casual as possible. sungchan visibly straightened his shoulders a little more, his hand settling on something in his back pocket. you saw anton show his ID to the other bouncer while sungchan’s hand led you to the other one. the bouncer held out his hand but before he could ask for your ID, sungchan smiled big at him.

��she’s with me.” sungchan said cheerfully.

“still need to see ID.” he said.

you see sungchan pull whatever it was from his back pocket and hand it to the bouncer. it’s something small, but sungchan’s body blocks your line of sight to see exactly what it is. the bouncer gives you one last look and you can’t stop yourself from looking down at your feet. you’re sure it is painfully obvious you shouldn’t be here. the bouncer takes mercy on you for some reason and nods his head. sungchan pulls you by your hand to drag you inside. the bouncer only continues to look at you for a second before tending to the next person in line.

the inside of the venue was completely opposite of the outside. if the outside was worn down the interior looked like it was recently experienced a complete rebirth. the ground you thought would be cracked concrete was reworked hardwood. the mass of people coming in walked towards a medium sized stage, where a curtain was drawn hiding who was behind it. this was what you imagined to be a concert venue now, equipped with stands on both sides for extra people. you didn’t know something like this existed in your town. you stopped for a moment and anton looked back at you smiling.

“first time?” anton asked.

sungchan looked between you and anton with an apprehensive look. you almost felt like you shouldn’t talk to him before you nodded your head yes.

“this is like sunday mass but for a different type of congregation.” anton said.

you don’t know anton said it to poke fun at you, the smile on his lips fading when he looked at sungchan. but it made complete sense. everyone looked the same, dressed in attire for the occasion the same way you dressed every sunday morning. anton and sungchan bobbed and weaved through the crowd, sungchan leading you through the mass of people until you ended up on the side. anton said something to the security guard, leaning in close before turning around and pointing at you and sungchan. the security guard faltered for a moment before stepping back and pulling open the safety gate. the three of you walked through and made it on the other side of the curtain to a smaller room.

immediately when you walk in the something musty and pungent fills your nose. it’s strong and almost skunky. you look to anton and sungchan—they are unfazed. you don’t comment on the overwhelming smell, or the smoke that filled the small room.

you only remember being in the room for ten minutes before your perception of time changed. one moment you just suddenly felt yourself looking to the clock every ten minutes to see that only two had passed. you sat on the couch while sungchan navigated the whole room. they listened to every word and the way they followed him around made you think of disciples. it made you giggle, you smiling into your hand when sungchan came to you on the couch.

“what’s so funny?” sungchan asked.

he had a smile of his own now, and his eyes were low and bleary. when you forgot the answer you just kept smiling. sungchan smiled back at you. you were giggling while sungchan when sungchan told his friend to break a leg, and you were giggling when sungchan grabbed you hand and took you to the bathrooms. you laughed at how piss covered the floors and how there was no toilet paper or soap in the dispensers. you were nearly in tears when sungchan started stuffing pieces of toilet paper into your ears as makeshift ear plugs. he was laughing too, quelling your worries that the toilet paper would get stuck in your ears.

whatever you felt had died down by the time the show started, the loud music pulling you from your trance. the music thumped in your chest, you had to hold a hand to your heart to make sure it was still beating. sungchan seemed unbothered by being so close to the speakers though. he was cheering and singing along with his friend on stage. sungchan smiled more than you had ever seen him do so in church, and he knew all the words unlike the latin hymns he mouthed unsuccessfully during service.

everyone sang along to the lyrics except for you, bodies bumped into yours and everyone was pushing. if it wasn’t for sungchan behind you, you were sure you would’ve been swallowed up into the crowd. the music was nothing like what you were used to, but you tried to enjoy it anyway. it was different to see what rebels your age were doing while you were busy knowing nothing about life beyond your oratory.

the music blared from the stage, the bass made the floor underneath your feet shake. it went right through the soles of your shoes and travelled up from the balls of your feet. the bass went all the way to your head, shaking the individual hairs and rattling your skull. it was like all your senses were being taken away from you and replaced solely with the music that played onstage.

you could barely make out anything from the strobing lights, as fast as you were granted vision it was ripped away. the flashing lights contributed to the energy of the people surrounded you, like a ticking time bomb as gasoline filled all the way to the ceiling. everyone’s restless bodies started colliding when the music intensified. you don’t know if people started forgetting there were bodies around them as the music got louder and louder. it was the same way it was at sunday service. you saw people be overcome with emotion as they pushed to the music. they were swayed by the band on stage the same way your congregation was swayed by the priest. but just like there and just like now, the only thing that swayed you was sungchan. the only difference was that in church you could only dream about how close he was to you now. his hands rested on your hips as he guarded your body from the people moving around you. you felt his wet lips place a kiss to your neck, so soft and gentle unlike the harsh music that played onstage and the hectic crowd of people that surrounded you.

sungchan’s wet lips pressed to your skin. you could feel the heat coming off his body in waves, and you were sweating on your own. the air seemed to vibrate as sungchan worked his way up to your ear before kissing the shell and leaning further in. you could feel his chest come close to your back as he whispered in your ear.

“i missed you.” sungchan said against your neck.

you weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear what sungchan said to you. his voice had intent, but it was supposed to be drowned out by the riffing guitar onstage and the bass that vibrated the speakers next to you. but when sungchan spoke to you, it cut through all the noise. it made the pulsing bodies surrounding you disappear. suddenly it was just you and sungchan in the venue--maybe in the whole world.

you knew that whatever you said would be lost over the sound of the music. you just tilted your head until it rested on sungchan’s and nodded, to make sure he knew you felt the same way.

you knew sungchan understood when his hands on your hip dug into the your church dress. the fabric stood no chance against his grip, it was almost like there wwas nothing there at all as sungchan held you tight.

“i want you.” he said into your ear.

you smiled as you looked ahead to the stage. want was so juvenile to you. you learned about want and have felt want for so long that it came to you like breathing. the want you were taught about in church was subject to god’s will. what you felt for sungchan couldn’t be contingent on anyone, not even if they were all knowing.

what you needed couldn’t be defined as something so simple as want. it was defined as a burning desire and something you pretended wasn’t a necessity until now. the same way you taught sungchan about the bible you planned to teach him about something else. so while you were shoulder to shoulder with sweaty pushing strangers you turned around to face him. sungchan was still leaned over to kiss your neck when you put both hands to his face to pull him in. he kissed you with want but you kissed him back with necessity. it was carnal the way you took his bottom lip into your mouth and the way the bass in your moan rang in both of your mouths. you only took a hand away from sungchan’s face to push his hands lower on your body. he gripped your ass as you deepened the kiss. you kissed sungchan so eagerly that his face was being pushed back as he tried to reciprocate.

when the song ended you pulled away first. sungchan was in the same place you left him, with his eyes closed and head tilted. his lips were red and swollen. want couldn’t compare to what you felt. you could fill this warehouse to the ceiling with want. what you felt for the man before you was something that could only be expressed underneath the sanctified sheets of your bed.

“my parents are asleep around this time. they don’t get up till afternoon service.” you said.

you said it at normal volume, still thinking it was just you and sungchan. the lights around you barely illuminated your face as your faced sungchan. your voice was lost in the screaming crowd, and sungchan could hardly make out the words your lips mouthed. so he looked into your eyes, he let them guide his next actions as he nodded his head. sungchan looked down to see your hand and your gaze fix on the exit.

the show was over when sungchan grabbed your hand and led you to the exit. it was sungchan who was pushing concertgoers now, bumping into people without care if they were in the way. you trailed behind him, bumping into people as a result of it. you apologized to who you could, but someone giving you a hard look was the least of your worries. you would repent for being impatient later.

you and sungchan beat the crowd leaving the venue. he didn’t bother to look for his friend or to say goodbye. sungchan was only focused on making sure his spare motorcycle helmet was secure on your head before kicking his bike off the ground.

you held onto sungchan’s waist as you sped down the highway towards your home. you took the risk to let go of him when he hit the highway. he slowed down on the empty road to let you spread your arms out. you felt the wind around you, and you hoped it would carry away the smell of cigarettes and skunk that stuck to your clothes. sungchan still knew the way, and he knew to park his motorcycle on the side of the road instead of pulling up to the driveway.

you looked to sungchan one last time before opening the door to your home. he was on his own path that deviated from the church a long time ago. you weren’t sure what he was doing besides enjoying music and doing drugs, but it didn’t matter. him being outside of the church as you were leaving had to be something like divine intervention.

it was that intervention that led sungchan down your creaky hallway, sneaking past your parents that were sleeping on the couch. with a finger to your lips sungchan found himself following someone else’s orders for the first time in awhile, taking the same steps as you to be as quiet as possible.

sungchan walked down your hallway that was adorned with crosses and decorations of angels. he was sure he saw the statue of jesus on the top of a table, and a painting of his birth was stuck to the wall. sungchan let you pass by him so you could slowly open the door of your bedroom. he looked down the hallway to see the glow from the television casted on the wall. he heard the low sound of a late night televangelist before hearing your voice.

“sungchan.”

you called to him gently from the depth of your room. he couldn’t see from his spot in the shadow of your hallway, so his feet carried him until he was beside your doorframe.

sungchan saw you sitting on the center of your bed. you were still in your dress, but sungchan felt like you were laying yourself bare before him. he was frozen in place underneath the rosary that draped your doorframe. he was compelled to do the sign of the cross over his body, but nothing could make him move. it wasn’t until you beckoned to him that sungchan took a deep breath before taking a step into your room.

sungchan said nothing about the religious paraphernalia in your room. suddenly the crosses you had collected over the course of your life was humiliating as sungchan looked at every single one of them. you motioned for him to turn off the lights as he closed the door behind him, but the miniature figure of christ you had on your desk could still be seen in the dead of night. sungchan almost felt like something terrible would happen to him if he mentioned it, like getting struck by lightning or your parents suddenly coming into your room.

the only thing that kept sungchan calm was looking at you. you felt unrest seeing sungchan stand still in your doorway. he must’ve still feared something judging him by the way he looked at you. you patted the space on the bed beside you, adjusting yourself on your knees to seem as welcoming as possible.

sungchan sat on the bed next to you, his legs leaning over the side of the bed. he was ready to get up and leave at any moment. you’re body head to toe is tingling with excitement, and you want to remind sungchan about the want he told you about earlier. you turn your back to him and reveal the zipper down the back of your dress.

“can you help me?” you ask.

sungchan says nothing, but you can feel the pads of his fingers hold the fabric surrounding your zipper in place while he brings the other hand to the zipper itself. you can feel the pads of his fingers on the bare skin of your neck that the dress doesn’t cover. you shake as your hear the metal teeth open down your back, and the cold skin of your room touches your skin.

when the zipper is all the way down, sungchan brings his hand to your two shoulders. he slowly helps your arms out of the sleeves, and you let it fall off your body. you can hear him exhale and feel his breath fan the skin of your back. sungchan brings hesitant fingers to the clasp of your bra. you can hear him behind you shuffle to move his body further on the bed.

“can i?” sungchan whispers.

you swallow and nod your head.

“yes.” you say quietly.

sungchan misses the clasp on the first try, and it catches you off guard when your chest suddenly feels free after his second attempt. he helps you out of the bra the same way he did with your dress. you let it fall off your body, falling on top of the pile your dress made.

you stretch the curve or your back. sungchan only looks at your shoulder blades, too nervous to move any further. you lift the top of your dress from the bed and press it to your bare chest. you look behind your shoulder to look at sungchan. his eyes break from your shoulders to your eyes, and then to your lips. sungchan watches you as you move backwards onto the bed, giving him space to move in front of you.

the two of you sit in the silence of your room, looking to eachother. you can hear the sound of the wind blowing outside, and the sound of a loud commercial break on the television in the living room. you move underneath the loose fabric of your dress and bring your legs closer to your body. sungchan shifts too, and you can see his hand reach out before he brings it back to his body. he lets his finger press into the duvet on your bed as you clear your throat.

“do you still want me?” you ask.

sungchan nods his head and moves forward towards you. he still hesitates, not letting his hand that’s on your calf go up any higher.

“i want you so bad. you don’t understand.” sungchan said.

you hated that you understood what sungchan meant all too well. you could sit here and debate the logistics with him, how you could teach him what it feels like to truly yearn something like the way you yearned for him. you wanted to show sungchan about passion that went beyond want, and you longed to drive him so crazy that he would feel the same burning desire you felt when you didn’t see him for all that time. so you grab sungchan’s hand and guide it to the dress you had let go of. it rested on your body like covers, ready to be taken off if sungchan was willing. he looked to you and you nodded your head as he held your dress.

sungchan pulled the dress away from you slowly, revealing more and more of you to him. you gasped as you felt his eyes on you. by the time sungchan takes your dress fully off, you are only left in your cross pendant and underwear. sungchan is entranced, eyes dragging down your whole body. he lifts your legs to help pull the dress off all the way. sungchan gently drops your clothes over the edge of your bed. you point at sungchan’s shirt, and he takes off his shirt and pants too.

you are both left in your underwear underneath the plethora of crosses on your wall. the bible is next to your bed on the table with a rosary piled neatly on top. it’s ignored when you sit on your bed and spread your bent legs slightly. sungchans hand starts from your feet, tracing up your leg slowly until he reaches your knee. his fingers come down your leg as he slots his body in between them.

his fingers don’t stop until he thumbs the cross pendant on your necklace.

“sign of the cross.” sungchan says quietly.

you settle further into your bed, and spread your legs further.

“do you remember how to do it?” you ask

sungchan nods before bringing three fingers from his right hand to your bare body. he touched your forehead, then dragged his fingers down the valley of your chest to your solar plexus. sungchan touched both of your shoulders, using your collarbone as a guide. you let out a breath sigh of amen, but sungchan didn’t do the same. he brought his hand back to your stomach, going lower and lower on your body. he looked at you for permission, and you nodded and spread your legs further.

you felt the carnal desire that evolved from want fill your room to the brim as sungchan let his fingers go underneath the waistband of your panties. he teased you only for a second, the pads of his fingers bumping your clit before his fingers went further down your folds. you gasped when sungchan finally put his fingers inside of you. he kept his fingers still for a moment inside of you, waiting for you to adjust and move first. you wasted no time pulling your hips back to bring them forward again as you used sungchan’s fingers to pleasure yourself.

he brought his other hand to your lower stomach, feeling the supple skin of your stomach.

“i’m so bad for you, you know.” sungchan said.

his actions differed from his words. the way he had his fingers on you made you feel so good, and the high you felt from the drugs in your system and the rush from the night made you want to continue chasing that feeling. so you ignore sungchan’s indirect warnings and continued to push your hips to meet his fingers.

“i can save you.” you whimper quietly.

sungchan looked from your hips to your eyes. he looked deep into you but you didn’t shy away. you continued to push your hips to feel his fingers go inside of you deeper. you didn’t break eye contact until sungchan bent his fingers and hit a spot you didn’t know existed. you bit your lip and tilted your head back. your whole body leaned, forcing you to prop yourself up on your outstretched hands behind you.

sungchan moved from his spot on the bed to get closer you. he hovered over your body, his hand on top of yours as his other hand continued to pump in and out of your body. you looked up at sungchan, spreading your legs further as sungchan took over. he let you rest as he started doing all the work. he wanted it to be fast, seeing your chest jump as his finger started pistoning into you. you brought your hand that was free to hold sungchan’s bicep. he still held your gaze, nodding as you let quiet moans fall from your lips. your eyes closed in bliss—you couldn’t stop the words from falling out of your mouth.

“oh my god.” you sighed.

“i know.” sungchan whispered back.

sungchan kept going, even through the pain of you digging your nails into his skin. he kept going even when you fell to your back and closed your thighs around his hand. sungchan didn’t stop until you cried out his name from your pillow and slick want came from you. you clamped around his fingers and sungchan scissored them inside of you, trying to give you all you could take. he didn’t stop until your legs slid down your bed and you used a weak hand to pull his fingers out of you.

sungchan watched you bring your hand to your chest as you stared at the ceiling. sungchan laid on the bed next to you and placed a hand next to yours. he could feel your heart pounding in its cage. he brought a hand to his heart and he could feel it beat with the same urgency.

you let yourself relax next to sungchan. you let your hand go down his body. you do the same thing sungchan did to your body, your three fingers grazing across his body before going underneath the waistband of his boxers. you look up and kiss sungchan’s forehead as you wrap your hand around his length. it’s heavy and twitches in your hand as you slowly stroke him.

his usual demeanor crumbles almost instantly, he is the vulnerable one underneath your touch. he pushes his body further up until he is resting against the headboard of your bed and you follow him. you face sungchan as you continue pumping his length, and his hands dig into your sheets. you come closer to his lips to kiss him again, trying to swallow the tiny sighs he lets out. sungchan gives you the reins and you let desire take control of your actions. desire makes you pull down sungchan’s waistband and it makes you put your tongue into his mouth. sungchan pulls his underwear off the rest of the way and you take a peak at his length. in the darkness of your room the moonlight comes in perfectly, giving you just enough sight. you can see your hand glisten in the light as it goes up and down sungchan’s dick. it’s a soft wet sound, only magnified by the quiet of the night.

sungchan grips your hand and tightens it around his length. he starts lifting his hips to fuck himself up into your hand and you watch his body work to bring himself pleasure. you can see the sweat form on his taut skin, and his hair starts to stick to his forehead from the exertion. sungchan can barely bring himself to look at you as he chases his own pleasure. you force him to make eye contact when you move his bangs from his face and lift his gaze with fingers underneath his chin. the pace he set with his thrusts falter for a second when he looks into your eyes. you help him by bringing your hand down faster and tighten the grip of your hand. you can feel sungchan’s hand clasp around yours further, and how his thighs start to shake from the work of thrusting.

that’s what separates you and sungchan. his want drives him to hastily fuck your hand, trying to reach a high that only came to him hours ago. what you needed has had time to ferment. it started as want—you wanted sungchan to come to church. you wanted him to find his path. you wanted him to kiss you. but it had time to brew in your stomach over the time time you didn’t see him and when your mind was forced to fill in the gaps. it was like a wound, festering on your skin and reopened anytime sungchan came into your orbit. he knew nothing about yearning or craving something the way you did. but you kept pumping your hand for him, because you wanted to keep him coming back for more. you wanted to become a wound on his skin and burn the fleeting touches into his brain. you were going to become something sungchan longed for, and maybe over that time your own craving would subside. sungchan would need you and you would be able to use a word as weak as want to describe how you feel about him.

when sungchan’s hand go back into your panties, your hand faltered. you looked to sungchan bewildered, but he only looked back at you with blown out eyes. his eyes consumed you while his bitten lips drew you in again. maybe sungchan already felt the same as you, he was just better at hiding it. maybe the plan you had for sungchan would end up destroying the both of you. you didn’t care as you helplessly rutted into his fingers. if desire killed you before it subsided to want you would be okay with it. if you were to die at the hands of something that felt so good, you would welcome it with open arms.

you brought your mouth away from sungchan’s to go to his neck. you suck and bit at his skin, and he brought a hand to your back to bring you closer. you were kneeling beside his body, praying into the skin of sungchan’s neck as he whimpered next to you. in the comfort of your bed kneeling wasn’t painful. you wondered why you spent so much of your life kneeling for forgiveness on the rough ground of the outside world or the padded walls of your church. you wasted your time kneeling to anything but pleasure.

your revelation hits you the same time it hits sungchan. he thrusts into your hand once more before staying there. he whined quietly as his hand presses deeper into your back and inside of you. you can feel his dick twitch and warmth covers his hand and yours in spurts. you continue to pump his dick as he becomes a mess underneath you and you grind your hips on his hand so you can feel your own revelation again. your body turns to jello for the second time of the night as you lean your entire body weight against sungchan’s chest. you can’t stop letting your sounds increase in volume as you lean further into sungchan’s chest. you let your sounds out into his clammy skin as he continues to finger you. you have to take your hand from his dick and pull his hand out so you can calm down.

“i’m sorry.” sungchan says.

he wraps both arms around you and brings you weak body in for a hug. you only shake your head, trying to form a coherent thought.

”it’s okay.” you whine.

after you come back from heaven, you realize exhaustion is starting to weigh down on your body. you’ve had a busy day, the adrenaline high crashes down on you fast. you end up drifting to sleep still leaned against sungchan’s body, but he is left wide awake. he only says your name once, slightly shaking your body to see if you will come to. you don’t wake up, and sungchan uses what’s left of his energy to slide down from the headboard so you’re both laying on the bed. sungchan feels the mess he made over his hands and stomach. he believes that he doesn’t have a home here, or the right to lay in your bed. so he gently moves your sleeping body, pulling your hand wrapped around his waist and turning you so you lay on the pillow. your body instantly adapts, pulling in a blanket to hold it the same way you were holding him.

sungchan gets up from your bed and starts putting his clothes back on. it’s slow and hesitant—he does everything in his power to keep you asleep. sungchan starts walking towards your door with his jacket and belt in hand when he hears shuffling on your bed.

“do you need a place to sleep tonight?” you whisper sleepily.

sungchan froze before he could turn the handle. he looked back at you, seeing your state and he nodded solemnly. you thought even in the dark of night you could see his crestfallen face, or maybe it was waves that radiated off of him in droves. you thought for the night he wouldn’t be alone as you lifted up the corner of your sheets, showing an empty spot just for him. sungchan came from your doorway to your bed, setting his jacket on the back of your chair and taking off his jeans. in just his boxers and shirt he crawled underneath the covers. he held open his arms, showing he had a spot for you too. you nestled into him without hesitation, tucking your head underneath his chin.

“i would give you anything you need.” you whispered into sungchan’s chest.

his arms around your body wrapped around you more, pulling you closer. you had almost wished he had drifted off to sleep. you wanted to whisper into his chest that he could come to you like a stray cat, wounded and hungry and you’d take him in each time. you wanted to tell him that you didn’t care if you were too forgiving or too naive. you wanted to be there for him like a saint if it meant you could continue to receive his offerings. if you enabled him until there was nothing left you would savor each moment you had with him. if you ended up saving sungchan you would make a future with him.

sungchan knew that he wouldn’t be able to rid himself of you even if he tried. something about you entranced him and had him wanting to come back. maybe it was the way you prayed with the same hands you used to undress yourself backstage. he imagined nights in the near future of him sitting on the edge of your bed while you gave him a show. maybe it was a trauma response. sungchan knew that the life he was living would drain him emotionally and physically. if he were to appear on your doorstep in the dead of the night after a show or a bender he knew your forgiving heart would let him in. he knew you couldn’t bare to see someone else in pain, especially if it was him.

you both knew the dynamic you two were actively changing all night was going to become volatile later down the line. you would end up taking mercy on sungchan’s self-destructive lifestyle in exchange for the freedom he brought you, while sungchan would use you to recuperate before going out and destroying himself some more. you would try to change him under the guise of showing him “the light” and he would corrupt you under the guise of showing you life outside the church. who needed who more would only become blurred and several lines would be crossed. you both knew you were trapping yourselves in a vicious cycle, one that you would probably go through on your own to keep it a secret from the church and your family.

it didn’t matter when sungchan sighed contently and kissed your forehead. his lips were soft against your skin, it brought you the same comfort the church used to bring you. so you sighed from the comfort and settled further in your tomb, underneath the six layers of your clothes and blankets. your body was still cold, the only thing that brought warmth was sungchan’s body. it made you feel like you were alive, like you would be reborn when you emerged from the covers in the morning.

“you know i’ll be back.” sungchan said clearly.

when you woke up the next morning, sungchan had dug himself out from under the blankets. he had risen revived from your forgiveness while you were left alone in the grave.

#01zfan: sungchan #seriez: sacrilegious #sungchan smut #riize smut

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corroded-hellfire · 9 months

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I just realized it's them. Eddie, the Reader, and my kids.

It would be funny if they were watching the movie and Eddie teases them that they look like kittens and some say it's actually them as a family.

I needed to write this. Was very compelled to write about Eliza making everyone watch this movie lol. I hope you like what my crazy brain came up with!

Previously talked about on this ask too 😻

Words: 1.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Family movie nights have become rarer as the boys have gotten older, but the tradition hasn’t been altogether lost. Once in a while you can wrangle the boys down for an evening of snacks and family bonding.

Luke is laid out on the floor as per usual, on his stomach and pounding down Doritos and Mountain Dew like a man starved, not a 14-year-old boy who just had three large helpings of baked ziti not an hour ago. Ryan occupies the La-Z-Boy lounger that is effectively known as Wayne’s chair, it being the older man’s favorite spot in the household. The older Munson brother’s attention is currently half on the movie and half on the girl he likes at school.

Eliza is sitting cozy on the couch between you and Eddie. At some point during the movie, she’ll end up snuggled against either you or her father, but right now she’s content enough to sit on her own, her pink unicorn blanket spread out over her lap and little legs.

Eddie is slouched against an arm of the couch but has his arm draped along top, the tips of his fingers just barely able to brush over the back of your neck. So, of course, that’s what he’s been doing since the movie started. You sit hip to hip with your daughter, a bowl of popcorn balanced on your thigh that she and you keep taking kernels from.

As the song Everybody Wants to Be a Cat ends, Eddie smiles to himself. He sees his children in all three of the troublemaking kittens that were just singing and dancing around on screen.

Ryan notices and raises an eyebrow at his father. “The singing cartoon cats making ya happy, Dad?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and flicks a pretzel in his eldest child’s direction.

“No, smartass. I was just thinking how they remind me of you guys.”

Luke rolls on his side so he can look at his dad over his shoulder.

“Did I grow a tail I wasn’t aware of? I’d like to think you’d keep me updated on that kind of thing, Dad.”

“You’re the little wiseass cat,” Eddie says, gesturing to the screen with his chin. “The orange one that tries to act all tough.”

“Toulouse,” Eliza says, as if her father should’ve known his name and it offends her that he didn’t.

“And he’s the one who’s most like the dad,” you point out with a shrug. It’s no secret that Luke is basically Eddie’s twin.

“He’s not their dad!” Eliza says with a small huff. Her parents are disappointing her with their Disney knowledge tonight.

“My point still stands,” you say before pressing a kiss to the top of your daughter’s head.

Luke shoves another handful of Doritos in his mouth and goes back to looking at the screen.

“I’m not a ginger,” Luke says, though with his mouth being full it sounded more like, “M’not a jinjuh.”

“Who’s he?” Eliza asks as she points to the black and white cat on the screen.

“I thought you knew all the names,” Eddie says. Eliza rolls her eyes, looking identical to her father as she does it.

“No. Luke is Toulouse so who Berlioz?”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie says now that his daughter has cleared up his confusion. “Definitely Ryan. He’s the quietest one but he can still be mischievous.”

“Silent but deadly,” Ryan says.

“Like his farts,” Luke adds, making Eliza giggle.

“Who me?” Eliza asks, looking up at her father with the same big brown eyes that she inherited from him.

“Marie, of course,” Eddie says as he musses her curls. That name he knows by now. “You’re the spoiled, pampered, sweet girl of the gang.”

The word “sweet” doesn’t seem to matter to Eliza, only focusing on the first two. Her little round face pinches up in a frown; her brows coming together over her dark eyes and her lips forming into a puckering pout. You try, and almost fail, to contain your laughter as your daughter stares at your husband with the cutest menacing look you’ve ever seen.

“What?” Eddie asks when she doesn’t look away.

“Not a spoiled kitty,” she says.

“You asked!” Eddie scrunches up his face and sticks his tongue out at her. She does the same in return, proving that your husband is as mature as a three-year-old.

Luke finishes the Doritos in his mouth and wipes his cheesy hands off on his White Sox shirt.

“You know, I think our whole family is like theirs,” he muses.

“What?” Ryan asks. By the tone of his voice it sounds like he’s over everyone talking and just wants to watch the movie in silence again.

“Yeah,” Luke says and gestures to the screen in front of him. “Stray, scruffy alley cat gets the pretty, sophisticated girl that’s out of his league?”

As unsubtly as possible, Luke jerks his head back towards you and Eddie on the couch.

“Hey!” you pout. “That’s not true.”

“Pretty much is,” Eddie admits with a laugh.

You move to scoot closer to your husband, little Eliza getting caught in the middle. The small girl hisses like a cat when she gets squished between her parents.

“Jesus,” Ryan groans as he rubs a hand over his eyes. Any form of overt affection between you and your husband has been annoying the teen boy lately. Eddie finds it amusing and whenever the two of you are alone your husband quietly surmises to you that your son is more annoyed by the fact that he can’t express the same sort of affections to the girl he likes. It makes sense since Ryan has always been one to express his love physically with hugs and such.

Now, Eddie presses a smacking kiss to the side of your head—almost to spite Ryan’s attitude—

before looking down at your daughter squeezed between the two of you.

“I think you even look like a kitty!” he tells her.

Eliza pushes her way to her feet on the couch with a huff. Watching her trying to stand in the cramped space has you tucking in your lips to avoid laughing. Once up, Eliza shoves at her dad’s shoulder as she’s seen her brothers do to one another many times.

“My little kitty!” Eddie teases, finding her reaction comical. He snatches Eliza and holds her in his lap as he tries to press kisses all over her face. Stubble scratches and rubs against Eliza’s soft skin, making her squeal and wiggle around in Eddie’s grip.

“If we’re all cats, do you think another family will adopt me?” Ryan asks in a sullen adolescent tone.

“No,” Luke answers simply. Thank God he hasn’t become a brooding, moody teenager—yet, anyway.

Eliza manages to slip free from her father’s grip and runs over to jump on Ryan’s lap.

“Save me!” she wails.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got ya,” Ryan says as she snuggles into his lap, tucking her head beneath her eldest brother’s chin.

Eddie takes advantage of the newly empty space between you, and he pulls you flush up against his side. You give Eddie a soft kiss before laying your head on his shoulder.

“Ick,” Eliza complains, looking over at you on the couch.

“Yeah, ick,” Ryan echoes.

“Wasn’t he the one who wanted us to have a baby practically as soon as we got together? Now he thinks it’s gross that I kiss you,” Eddie says softly to you, but not soft enough that Luke didn’t hear.

“Yeah, but now we got what we wanted,” Luke says with a shrug.

“Maybe now you guys can get fixed,” Ryan says with a smirk.

Eddie opens his mouth to retort but Eliza holds her arms in the air, an immediate call for silence.

“Shhhh! This good part!”

She snuggles back against her big brother, who sticks his tongue out at his dad.

Casually, Eddie wraps his arm around your back so he can flip his oldest son the bird without Eliza seeing. Ryan just laughs and goes back to watching the movie, curious to see what’s so special about this part. The sixteen-year-old’s laughter brings a smile to your face. You haven’t heard it as often as you’d like to lately.

After Eddie situates his arm around your shoulders, you snuggle up to him and drape Eliza’s unicorn blanket over your lap. The Disney movie is not as enticing to you as your husband is, so you press a kiss just below Eddie’s ear before whispering to him.

“I love our kittens. No matter how ferocious they like to pretend they are.”

Eddie chuckles his agreement.

“The cutest little feral monsters around.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #AYW #AYWS #request

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sagesolsticewrites · 8 months

Text

religion's in your lips, the altar is my hips

in which Steve takes care of you after a bad day

- including but not limited to: praise kink, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), Steve lowkey being a service dom 👀

(this is. very self-indulgent. very veryyyyyy self-indulgent. you have been warned <3)

a/n: huuuge shoutout to @upsidedownwithsteve's (aka Emmy, Queen of Smutty Sunday <3) most recent smutty Sunday event for giving me inspiration to write my very first smutty fic! Obligatory disclaimer that yes, this is my very first smut fic ever, I am an ✨asexual virgin✨ please manage expectations accordingly, yada yada yada. Also so many hugs to my bestie Kenz @fangirl-imagines for looking this over before I posted it ☺️ Kenzie has some incredible fics, go support her y'all!

Word count: 2870

Warnings: THIS IS SMUT. MINORS BEGONE. 🔞

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

You let yourself into your apartment with a sigh, shoulders relaxing the tiniest bit as you step over the threshold into your home and finally toe off your heels.

Bypassing the darkened kitchen and empty living room, you open the door to your bedroom, where you knew you’d find a shirtless Steve in the middle of his post-work ritual of playing some game on his computer.

He looks up as you enter, face brightening with a smile as he greets you.

“Hey baby, how was—”

In lieu of an answer, you flop face first onto the bed with a groan.

You can hear the smile fade from his voice as he hisses sympathetically, “That bad, huh?”

You lift your chin so it’s propped up on the pillow as you explain your terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.

“You know that project that Marie was working on? She asked me for help on it, and I gave her some pointers, but she said she still wasn’t really understanding it so I ended up having to do all of it for her. And she’ll probably take all the credit for it, too.” You grumble, rolling your eyes, “And we had that meeting with our new clients, and my boss basically volun-told me to take notes for it, even though that’s really the liason’s job, and then she criticized me for not taking as detailed notes as Lauren even though that’s literally Lauren’s job! And she was there, she could’ve taken the notes, I don’t even—”

You shake your head in exasperation, shifting topics, “And then I didn’t even have time for lunch because Sara wanted me to help train the interns, and…” You end your rant with a groan, letting your face drop back into the pillow. “‘M just. So tired.”

“Sweetheart…” Steve’s voice turns soft as the pillow underneath your head, and he gets up from his spot at the desk to climb onto the bed, pulling you into his arms.

You curl into him instinctively, your head finding that space in the crook of his neck that feels like it was made for you personally, one hand coming up to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, tracing patterns along the freckles and moles dotted along his skin.

“What can I do to help, honey?” Your boyfriend asks, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Jus’ wanna… I dunno, just. Stop.” You mumble against his shoulder, shrugging and curling further into him.

He hums in understanding, grabbing the hand that’s currently drawing invisible hearts around the moles near his collarbone and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“You’ve been doing so much for everyone today,” he murmurs, voice layered with understanding and adoration as he leans in and peppers tiny kisses over your forehead, your nose, your eyelids, and you relax even more as his voice washes over you, “Worked so hard.”

He pulls you closer, scattering kisses all over as you finally release all the tension you’ve been holding, letting out a sigh and shifting in his arms to face him. You don’t realize you’re straddling him until you’re pressed nearly flush against him, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

His lips brush over every part of your face, down to your neck and then back up as you become putty in his hands, murmuring soft words of praise to you the whole time.

“You just need to stop working now, huh? Need to stop thinking,” His lips draw a path to your ear, where he whispers, “need to let someone else do all the work, huh, baby?”

A shiver runs down your spine, constantly in awe of the power just his voice has over you. His hand settles on your hip, a comforting, grounding weight while his other hand brushes a strand of hair back from your forehead. His lips work their way back down over your cheek, stopping to hover just over yours, mouths brushing together as he murmurs in a voice like silk, “Is that what you want, honey? Want me to take care of you?”

Warm chocolate eyes meet yours, soft, caring, always ensuring he has your consent before he does anything.

At your near-imperceptible nod, he drags his hand up to cup your chin, thumb dragging along your bottom lip.

“Need your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes,” you breathe, and that’s all the confirmation he needs to surge up and capture your lips with his.

As you brace yourself on his shoulders, his hands move to the thin strip of exposed skin where your shirt has ridden up. Your kisses become hungrier, ignoring your need for oxygen in favor of Steve’s plush, kiss-swollen lips, and he slowly drags up the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss briefly to get your permission.

At your eager nod, your shirt is off and tossed to some corner of the room, his mouth eagerly on yours once more.

You can feel exactly how much he’s enjoying this through his sweats, and you instinctively begin to rock in his lap, dragging your increasingly damp core over his.

His hands grip your hips, the familiar feeling sending a thrill through you… but rather than guiding your movements like he normally would, he holds them still.

You pull away, brow furrowed, but before you can voice your confusion, he flips you onto your back, moving to hover over you in one smooth movement.

“I told you,” he murmurs against your lips in a tone that sends a pulse of scorching heat to your core, “I’m doing all the work, sweetheart.”

The whimper you let out is muffled by his lips on yours once more, his wandering hands and hungry kisses making short work of turning you into a moaning, gasping mess.

“Steve,” you whine out his name as his lips travel down to your neck, and you can feel his smile against the hollow of your throat before he returns to licking and sucking dark patches into your skin, the occasional use of his teeth making delicious shivers shoot up your spine.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He mumbles against your skin, trailing his lips along your collarbone. His eyes meet yours, a mischievous twinkle mixed with the searing heat in them turning you molten as he asks, “What do you need?”

Unable to find the words, your hand finds his hair instead — God, that hair — and begins pushing him down towards where you really want him.

“‘M gettin’ there, honey, I promise,” he grins, pausing your efforts to press a kiss to the valley between your breasts, “Lemme take my time and I promise it’ll be worth it, ok?”

He reaches up to toy with the strap of your bra— a simple nude thing you could get away with wearing under a white shirt at work— a questioning look in his eyes answered by a furious nod from you.

He makes short work of the clasp, and that really should not be as hot as it is, but— oh who are you kidding, even his breathing is insanely hot right now.

You throw your head back as he presses kisses all over your chest, mumbling against your skin the whole time about how pretty you are, just gorgeous sweetheart, God, I can’t believe I get to do this for you…

Your head goes deliciously fuzzy with the praise, and you can’t quite form words so all you can do when he takes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it for good measure, is let out a keening “Ohhh” and instinctively tighten your grip on his hair.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Steve groans, the noise sending heat racing through your body, and you grin knowing you were the one to elicit it, “You sound fucking incredible.” He murmurs more praise as he turns his attention to your other nipple, giving it just as much attention and eliciting more gasps and moans and whines from you before he continues his journey south.

You lift your head and watch as Steve Harrington fucking beams when he reaches your stomach, your pouch poking out slightly more than you’d like over the waistband of your jeans.

He meets your eyes, his own swimming with sincerity as he begins to scatter kisses over your midsection.

“You”

Kiss

“Are”

Kiss

“Fucking”

Kiss

“Stunning”

Kiss

When it seems like he’s covered every single inch of your exposed skin in kisses, remaining stubbornly focused on your torso when what you really want is for him to be significantly lower, he meets your eyes as he plays with the waistband of your jeans, once again wordlessly asking your permission.

And once again, your furious nodding is all the consent he needs to peel your jeans off and toss them away.

“Sweetheart.” He breathes, wide eyes on where your jeans once were, “Honey. Baby. Are you trying to kill me?” He says in a strangled voice at the sight of your simple lacy panties in a deep, wine-purple color— a color Steve once drunkenly confessed was his favorite, though he told anyone who asked he preferred red.

You bite your lip in an attempt to contain your grin, “I thought you might like those.”

“Like them?” He murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh, looking up through lidded eyes to meet your gaze as his own darkens, “I never wanna see you in anything else again.”

Your toes curl, and your breaths become shallow in anticipation as he scatters slow kisses all along your inner thighs, carefully spreading them apart, stopping when he gets to the edge of the purple lace.

He holds your gaze, gauging your reaction as instead of pulling them down over your hips to toss to yet another corner of the room, he simply…

Pulls.

The lace.

To the side.

You barely have time to let out a quiet, shaky, “Oh my God,” at the ravenous look on Steve’s face before his mouth is on you and you forget how to think, you forget how to breathe, you forget everything except Steve.

Let it be known: Steve Harrington knew how to eat a girl out.

He licks a thick, fat stripe up your center, gathering the moisture collected there before darting up to flick at your clit, an action that has you gripping the sheets like a lifeline, a stuttering moan that sounds vaguely like your boyfriend’s name escaping from your lips. His arms hook around your thighs, pulling you close in an attempt to keep your hips grounded, and he continues a few more passes of the same lick, flick pattern until you’re a writhing mess underneath him, his current strategy both too much and not enough.

He pauses just long enough to meet your eyes, pressing a single kiss to your clit that sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine, before diving in.

His tongue finds your entrance with ease, the way his nose pushes through the thatch of wiry hair to nudge at your clit providing extra stimulation as he makes short work of making you fall apart. His tongue swirls through your folds as he lets out a languid moan at your taste.

“So fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your core, “So perfect, lettin’ me take care of you. This is all you needed, huh?” His eyes flick up to meet yours as you shudder and moan underneath him, struggling to keep your eyes on him.

He licks another languid path through your folds, savoring your taste, before continuing, his voice muffled as he licks and sucks at your entrance “Jus’ needed me to give you a break, needed me to tell you it’s okay to turn off your brain and jus’—” Steve punctuates his last words by wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently “—be a good girl for me.”

The combination of stimulation to your clit and Steve’s words has your hips arching off the bed, despite your boyfriend’s best efforts to keep you still. You can feel him grin against you and let out a dark chuckle at the moan you let out at his last words in particular, the way your hand tightens and pulls at his hair all the evidence he needs.

Still, he asks you, though he doesn’t quite expect a coherent response.

“Aw, sweetheart. You like it when I call you a good girl? You like bein’ a good girl for me?” He purrs in a voice like syrup, lips still brushing your folds.

“Fuck, I— yes, Stevie,” you whine brokenly, gently gripping his hair in an attempt to bring him closer to where you want him, whimpering softly, “Stevie please.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmurs, scattering kisses frustratingly just outside your core, “Jus’ trust me, I gotcha.”

You resist the urge to move, to just grab him and put him where you want him, even as you let out a frustrated whine.

Just as your patience is about to run out, you feel him smirk against you before diving back in, holding your legs apart as he sloppily licks and sucks at your entrance, his tongue diving deep inside you.

You let out a gasping moan as he attacks your core, practically clawing at his hair in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer, your brain going fuzzy and then melting entirely when you hear the endless praise falling from his lips as he eats you out.

“So good for me sweetheart, just perfect— shit, do you have any idea how good you taste?” He groans against you, his thumb coming up to gently circle your clit as his other hand moves to splay flat over your hips, holding you as still as he can, “Could do this all fuckin’ day, god you’re amazing sweetheart—”

Then he clamps his lips around your clit and moans, and you’re fairly certain you’re going to die of pleasure, both your hands flying to grip his hair and yank as your back arches off the bed, your head falling back against the pillows, mouth open to let out a high, keening moan.

When you come back to your body, Steve is back to gently licking through your folds, and your hands claw at him, needing him to be closer.

“Steve,” you whine, “Stevie please, ‘m so close, I jus’— I need— please, baby.”

As your words turn into incoherent moans and pleas, Steve is quick to assure you, thumb returning to playing with your clit as he mumbles against you, “I know, honey, I know what you need and ‘m gonna give it to you, I promise. Been so good for me today, taken such good care of everyone, now it’s your turn, ‘m gonna make you feel so, so fuckin’ good, baby—”

He dives into you once more, thumb rhythmically circling your clit as his tongue hits every spot inside you in a pattern that has you turning to liquid underneath him, your legs hooking together behind his back to keep him right there, and your vision goes white as Steve brings you towards your release.

You let out a cry as you hit your climax, and Steve dutifully guides you through your orgasm, murmuring soft praises the whole time.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs as he pulls away, mouth glistening and pupils dilated wide. Your hand cards through his soft brown waves, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Steve brushes gentle kisses to your inner thigh, your hipbone, your stomach, following a path up to capture your lips with his own, swallowing the contented sigh you let out.

He pulls away, meeting your gaze with a smile as he pecks your nose.

“Feelin’ better?”

You hum contentedly, “Much.” Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek as you pointedly glance down, “What about you?”

Steve lets out a mock-annoyed groan, forehead coming down to rest on your shoulder.

“Baby, we just went over the whole thing about you not needing to take care of everyone.”

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze, “Seriously, though,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, rolling to lay next to you and pulling you into his chest, “I’m fine. This was about you, and I’m so glad I could help take care of you for once.”

You cup his cheek, turning his face to yours. You hope he can see every sincere, tender thought in your expression as you simply say, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart. You know that.” He murmurs in response, lips quirking up into a small smile as he turns to press a quick kiss to your palm.

“So,” he says, fingers stroking through your hair, nudging your eyes closed, “nap time and then appetizer dinner? We’ve got mozzarella sticks and some chicken tenders I can throw in the oven.”

You grin, despite already being half-asleep, “That sounds perfect.”

You can feel his smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“I love you infinity.”

“I love you infinity plus one”

“I love you—”

“Alright, let’s call it a tie, babe.”

Tagging a couple friends! Hi besties @austin-butlers-gf @sassy-ahsoka-tano @dontbesussis

#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #my writing #sage writes

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fallingfor-fics · 1 month

Text

Anything: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

here is part 2 to Meetings in Secret!!

Pairing: Step-Aunt Melissa x Step-Niece Reader (not blood relatives!!)

Word count: almost 9k

Warnings: fooling around with your step-moms sister, mild smut, fingering, reader goes down on mel, some angst, drug and alcohol usage

Summary: Melissa is staying over for New Years and lets just say a lot of stuff happens in the span of 48 hours.

not very well proofread tbh

Melissa was set to arrive at your house the day before New Years Eve, and of course your family was having a huge gathering at Mary and Melissa’s brothers bar. They were going to have fireworks for the count down, tons of food, and live music. That meant there was no way you were gonna miss out on a party like this. Thankfully you got lucky and your mom wanted you to spend the first day Melissa was in town with her, so you agreed to give yourself an extra day of mental preparation. That meant when you returned home from a night at your moms, you saw Melissa’s car in the driveway, and let out a deep sigh. You’d be lying if you said you didn't put on a little makeup before getting out of the car even if you were about to go shower it all off. You noticed Mary's car was gone and you furrowed your brows. You walked up and unlocked the door, walking in and looking around. It was dead quiet aside from the muffled sounds of a TV coming from the living room. You walked in and saw your dad on the couch.

“Oh hey. Where is everyone?” you asked as you went to get a cup of water.

“They ran out to get stuff for the food they are taking to the party tonight. We are leaving at 6 are you riding with us or following up?” he asked as his eyes remained on the TV

“Um, I will ride with.” You said and he nodded.

“Great, I'm gonna go shower.” You walked to your room to set your things down and you looked at the door to the guest room, it was cracked slightly and you could feel the lingering presence Melissa left behind. You shook your head and headed into the shower. The one thing you hated about this bathroom was how badly it fogged up, it would get steamy and humid and you hated getting dressed in there, so usually you would just dry your hair a bit and wrap a towel around yourself, and then go get dressed in your room. So you did, stepping out on the towel you put down, drying your feet, and then drying your hair. You opened the bathroom door and the cool air hit your damp skin causing you to shiver, you moved to round the corner out of the bathroom and that's when you saw, standing in front of the door to the guest room, your angel. She was paused on her phone, one hand on the door. You knew there was no sneaking by and if you moved the few feet to your room she would see so you just took a deep breath and decided to be brave. You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn't find the words, what were you supposed to say to her after all these months? Soon you saw your cat coming out of your room and she looked up at you and you looked at her pleading, she just blinked and then meowed loudly. You shut your eyes and sighed before looking over. Melissa heard the cry and turned with a smile on her face that soon faded when she saw you. You stood in front of her, hair dripping around you, water trickling down your arm slowly, your skin glistening from the dew of your shower. Your hand was clutched around the towel, pressing your breasts together, your cleavage on display and you had the most frightened yet desperate look in your eyes as they laid on her.

“Hey” was all you could choke out and her lip twitched into a smile at the sound of your voice.

“Hey hon.” she replied and you smiled. You decided you didn't have to stand here anymore, and turned to walk to your room. You shut the door, locking it and let out a sigh. Melissa let out her own breath she was holding in the whole interaction, and went into her room. God that was awkward, was all you could think. Despite your heart racing you thought it didn't go too bad, but definitely less dramatic than you thought it’d be. As you did every step of your routine you wondered what Melissa was thinking after that interaction. Did she care at all?

To go out, you put on a black mini skirt and sparkly top along with sheer black tights, and some black leather boots to match your leather jacket you were bringing in case you stepped outside. Before fully dressing, you put on a silk robe to wear while you did your makeup and hair. However, you needed your blow dryer next and you remembered it was in the guest bathroom that was in Melissa’s room. You let out a sigh as you realized and cursed under your breath before going back to adding the finishing touches to your face. With a tight chest and almost dry hair from the procrastinating, you walked over to her door and knocked gently. She answered and you felt your stomach fill with butterflies at the sight of her, her own hair and makeup was already done, but she was also only wearing a robe, her lacy bra-clad breasts peaked out and you swallowed as you kept your gaze on her face, her eyes were sparkling with surprise and confusion, and you felt your throat get dry.

“Um, my blow dryer is in the bottom drawer of the vanity.” you said softly and she nodded moving out of the way slowly. You walked in quickly and grabbed the hair utensil before walking towards the door.

“So you’re going with us tonight?” she asked in the midst of the silence and you stopped, looking at her slowly.

“Yup I'm riding up with y’all.” you nodded then turned on your heel and walked to your room.

By the time everyone was ready it was a little past six, and you were grabbing your purse and heading to the door. Your dad was already in the car warming it up, and you learned Jude was at Anthony’s and was going to ride with him. Which meant it would just be you and Melissa in the backseat, for the thirty minute drive. You went and got in, sitting behind your dad and facing towards the window, the less contact the better. After a few minutes, Mary and her came walking out, locking the door and coming up to the truck. You didnt turn to look at anyone, and just kept your gaze out the window.

“You got the jalapeno poppers right, Melissa?” Mary asked and with a crinkle of tin foil Melissa confirmed as she set the tray between the two of you. She looked at you as she did and you could feel her eyes tracing your silhouette but you continued to look away. The drive was going fast as you zoned out, looking at the scenery and the lights sparkling in the dark distance. You sighed and your breath fogged the window and you drew a star watching as it faded just as you made the fifth point.

“So Y/n how was your mom’s?” Mary asked kindly from the front and you looked up at her, Melissa's gaze on you could be seen in your peripheral vision.

“It was good to see her.” Was all you said and you looked back out the window. You didn't really like to get into the situation with your mom, but Mary was very respectful about that so she just nodded.

Soon you were arriving at the bar, mingling, and drinking with people. The friends you had invited got there soon after and you were hanging out with them before they had to leave to go to their own family's parties. Of course you didn't tell them about Melissa, so you tried your best to lay low and avoided her for most of the night. You had grabbed a beer and stepped outside, taking a break from dancing and going to get some air. The air was crisp and made your cheeks tingle, and the moon reflected off the blanket of snow surrounding everything. Some people nearby had already started shooting off fireworks so there were a good amount of people outside too. There was still thirty minutes til midnight, but a lot of people were already getting ready.

You rested your hands on the wooden railing of the porch, and looked out at the sky as you sipped your drink and tuned out the faint popping noises. You had a few drinks in you and you were feeling pretty good, but you decided to pull out your cigarettes from your purse, the crumpled pack you kept on hand for times like this. You took one out and looked for your lighter, you heard a flick and looked up, a taller man with dark hair and scruff held out his hand with a flame ignited from a silver lighter, you looked at him as you moved, lighting yours and then moving back, you held up the pack to him and he shook his head.

“Thanks.” you said finally as you breathed out.

“No problem. Im TJ.” he said with a nod and you nodded in response.

“Y/n. Are you part of the party or just here at the bar?” you asked as you took a drag and blew it away from him.

“I'm here with the family, I'm John's son.” you nodded and looked down to hide your awkward face.

“Cool, Mary is my step-mom.” you said quietly as you looked anywhere but at him. You felt him stand closer as he stood against the railing and looked at you.

“Do you go to school around here? You’re in college right?”

“Yeah, my school isn't too far out from here, but I still stay on campus.” you finished and he nodded, taking a sip of his own beer in hand.

“Do you, uh, have a boyfriend?” he asked and you were surprised by his boldness, you smoked awkwardly as you thought of how to respond. To be honest he was a very attractive guy, but you had put a pause on dating men awhile ago and you didn't want to kick off the new year with one. Unbeknownst to you, Melissa was watching the boy flirt from her spot at the bar inside. She saw your body standing close to his through the large windows and she felt her jaw clench as she watched him smile and talk at you with smothering confidence. She could tell you weren't interested, she knew he was far from your type and she debated going over there.

People were getting restless and antsy in anticipation for the countdown, and Melissa did want to get some fresh air. She shook her head at her subconscious offering up reasons to go see you. She knew she needed to stay away from you, give you space, and let you live your life. She had to keep whatever forest fire of drama she would bring to your life far from you. Still there were hooks in her stomach that just pulled her to you.

As she stood at the bar, the dim lights giving everything a beautiful glow, she admired the way you spoke. The way your pouty lips curled around the filter, and blew out the smoke. She didn't even know you smoke but she didn't seem to care. Her eyes softened at the sight of your reddening cheeks and nose, and she smiled as she looked you up and down, admiring your legs that stood out in the open air beneath a very sheer black tight. She watched as your eyes began to flutter as you looked up at the man and she furrowed her brows in suspicion. What could he have said that all of the sudden had you batting your lashes up at him?

“Yeah I'll get you a drink girl, just wait here.” TJ said before walking inside and you let out a relieved sigh. Your fake smile drops as you put out your cigarette and throw it away along with your empty bottle.

Melissa watches as TJ walks up next to her to ask the bartender for another one of your drinks and a drink for himself and she can't help the smirk on her face as she looks at you waiting patiently, cutely. Of course you were conning a man for a drink, she laughed at the idea since it only made her more fond of you and your brilliant mind.

“Hey Aunt Mel.” TJ spoke and she reluctantly muttered a response. He walked back out to you and she felt her chest tense up with envy. There was an urge deep in her stomach that made her unable to keep her eyes off of you. She wanted to be the person you were talking to at a bar on New Years. A loud voice caught her attention and she looked over to her cousin telling everyone there was only ten minutes left. She let out a huff and sipped her beer, looking back out the window at you.

“Yeah so it can get pretty intense but I like it.” TJ said after finishing his fifth sentence about himself. His low voice had long ago been tuned out and you stood mindlessly nodding and humming in agreement.

“Do you want to kiss at midnight?” he said with a clear voice and you felt your cheeks grow red. He went right out and asked and you had to give him credit for the bravery, but now you were left there. Melissa managed to hear the question when a passerby opened the door outside for a brief moment and she quickly felt her arms grow itchy and hot as her blood rose in temperature. Why this was bothering her so much she didn't understand. She wished she didn't care, but she did and the jealousy moving through her veins made her neck twitch. It grew worse when she saw you turn to face him, looking up at him once again with starry eyes. However this time she saw you say something and then turn to walk towards the door. Crowds of people were all around fitting tightly in the bar and the live music echoing throughout the high ceiling created a busy atmosphere. Melissa watched you walk in and start to weave through people, a hunch gave her an idea of where you were going and she pushed herself off the bar and walked towards the back. She saw you walking towards the hall of the restroom and she casually sped up to reach you.

“Y/n” She grabbed your elbow, pulling you back firmly before pushing you against the wall. After the initial shock wore off, and you registered who you were looking at, you threw her hands off you and tried to step back, your back against the wall stopping you. If only you could melt through walls you would be able to solve this problem.

“Ugh I just have to pee. Leave me alone.” Was all you said as you pushed past her and went into the restroom. You were fairly tipsy and this isn't something you wanted to deal with right now, especially not with midnight being minutes away. Was it a little presumptive, probably, but in the moment your dazed brain couldn't think of anything else to say. Thankfully she didn't follow you in, and you looked at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands, nose and cheeks red from the cold. You patted under your eye and touched up what you could with your finger before finishing up and then taking a breath and heading back out. To your surprise Melissa wasn't there and you began to wonder if it was a hallucination.

You decided to go outside for the countdown, your friends had all left already and you didn't feel like being around that many strangers right now. There was a hill right off the porch that overlooked a lake, a skyline of the city behind it. Of course some people were sitting down by the lake to watch the fireworks, and you remembered you needed a glass of champagne, grabbing one from a table inside, before heading outside. You looked around for a place to stand and looked down at your phone, two minutes. Soon you felt a hand grasp your upper arm firmly and pull you and you looked to see red hair and a sparkly top. You didn't protest and just followed as she pulled you around to the back of the bar. It was down hill and out of view from most that would recognize you, and you huffed as she pushed you against the building once again. The number of patterns between you two was getting frightening at this rate.

“Jesus Melissa, what do you want from me?” you asked, frustration evident in your voice as you crossed your arms.

“What were you doing flirtin with TJ?” she asked firmly and you made a face at the question.

“I wasn't, what were you stalking me?” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes, Melissa grabbed your jaw and you looked at her as she smiled.

“Just can't help yourself huh? You just go for anyone that gives you attention?” she laughed and you huffed looking down.

“No, Melissa, you were the only one and you know it, thats what makes this so fucked up. But you know that too.” you said with a hint of sarcasm, grabbing her hand from your jaw and pulling it off. You grabbed her belt loops and turned to push her against the wall now, you retracted your arms to sit across your chest. She looked at you with shock, speechless from what you had said and the action that followed. Suddenly roars of cheers could be heard as people started counting down from ten.

“Y/n, I-” her lip twitched and she just looked over your face as you stared at her with undeserving compassion. The look in your eyes only made it harder for her to resist you, though you almost looked at her with an innocent pity. She saw your pupils shrink and your eyes grow darker as you furrowed your brows and shook your head slightly.

“You want me to tell you what you wanna hear? Right? Well, this is all you, Melissa. So make a decision and stop fucking with me.” you spat out in frustration, your eyes beginning to brim with tears from the pent up emotions. Suddenly everyone started to yell ‘Happy New Year’ from the top of their lungs and Melissa laughed, grabbing your hips with force and pulling you into her. Her hand found your jaw once again and gripped it tightly as she kissed you with passion and fire. She quickly turned you so you were against the wall again and you felt your back being pushed hard into the rough brick of the building. Her tongue roamed your mouth without shame and you couldn't help the moan that crawled up your throat at the motions. Forceful hands gripped your hips, her thumbs digging into the flesh below your hip bone and her own breasts pressed into yours. When you heard a loud final cheer you pushed her face away from yours, her mouth attempting to meet yours again in a reflex before she pulled back and looked at your reddening face.

“Fuck- No we have to stop.” she said looking down and you rolled your eyes as you shook your head in annoyance.

“Happy fuckin new year Melissa.” you scoffed, shoving her away from you with little effort and walking up the hill with a slight stumble, and then back inside. You felt frustration build up again and your cheeks grew hot. You sped to the bathroom and locked yourself in a stall before small tears fell and you wiped them quickly, sniffling a bit from the cold. Melissa stringing you all around was giving you a headache, and every rejection from her you went through chipped away at your faith and ego. After gathering all the pieces of you again you let out an exhausted sigh and exited the restroom. You found your dad and told him you were ready to go and he sighed. If it wasn't for Jude also wanting to leave you would have had to stay longer, but your dad drove the both of you home and dropped you off before driving back.

“Why did you leave early?” Jude asked as you unlocked the door and you shrugged.

“I was just tired, you?” he nodded.

“It was too loud and I'm still hungover from last night.” he admitted and you laughed.

“Anthony?” you asked with a brow raised and he nodded. “Glad you're being cautious.” you nodded and he said goodnight as you parted ways. The moment it was just you and yourself you felt your chest sink in. A weight was placed that you couldn't shake and caused you to wash your face and brush your teeth before crawling into bed and turning out the light.

You didn't wake up until one in the afternoon.

You woke up from the light in your room along with the sound of people talking in the kitchen and you sighed. You turned over grabbing your phone and felt a slight twinge of shame at the sight of the time. You hated sleeping this late. Below it sat messages from Mary and your dad asking you if you wanted to go with everyone to their sisters house, followed by messages from a few minutes ago that said they were leaving since you didn't answer. You weren't upset in the slightest and took the opportunity to just rot back into bed and not leave until this weekend was over.

Eventually you had fallen asleep and when you woke back up the sun had started setting. With a long sigh you slinked out of bed and walked to the bathroom. You decided to shower to get the sleep and lingering Melissa off of you, and you seemed to not be able to think of anything else. In the shower and as you got out all you could do was think about her, and her lips on yours. The sweet sounds of her moans, the way she felt under your touch and against you. All these months, you had almost forgotten how she felt and reacted to things. These thoughts of her would get smothered by memories of her continuous rejections. It was the back and forth that made it so unbearable. You just needed her to decide and to stop being such a selfish, beautiful, two-sided-- a knock at the door interrupted your thoughts and you furrowed your brows. You got up and walked to your door, opening it slowly and feeling your lungs tighten when your eyes land on Melissa. Your brows furrowed and you ran a hand along your forehead with an annoyed groan. While it may have been a childish action, you didn't care because it was how you felt.

“Please just- can we talk?” she said in a steady and calm tone, deep and raspy yet kind. She was never bothered by your “immature” gestures.

“Is everyone back?” you asked, looking out of your room and she nodded.

“Jude went to Anthony’s and your dad and Mary went to bed.” she replied and you turned to look at your clock, realizing it was nine already. You frowned when you realized how much time you lost thinking about her. Then your eyes went wide when you remembered you had plans tonight.

“Oh I actually can't talk right now, my friends are coming to get me at ten we are going out for a new year celebration.” You said apologetically before moving into your room to start setting out your clothes and shoes. Melissa stepped in and shut the door slightly behind her.

“Does your dad know?” she asked and you shook your head.

“Considering I haven't talked to him since he drove me home, I'm gonna say no.” you fixed your hair and did some light but flattering makeup. In your vanity mirror you could see Melissa looking around your room, soaking up bits of your life and personality through the posters and trinkets scattered neatly around.

Melissa knew she was in no place to tell you it was not safe to go out tonight, or that you should just stay home since its late, but as she watched you do your makeup she felt her heart ache and she sighed shaking her head, she had to stop these feelings now before they got worse. She had to stop observing you behaving.. domestically. It only made her chest hurt more.

“Hon, I'm sorry for last night.” she said softly and you looked at her through the mirror and just put on a smile for her.

“Dont worry about it.” After adding the finishing touches you stood up and grabbed your dress. The air in your bedroom grew heavy as you looked up at her and your hands held the dark fabric.

“Sorry,” she turned around and you blushed as you got dressed, “I just want you to know it won't happen again, and it's my last night and I think from now on if I come to town i'll just stay in a hotel to be safe.” she said all of this so casually, facing away from you and fidgeting with her fingers, but her voice was so neutral. You looked at her as you slipped your pants off and paused to think. The tone and words Melissa was speaking out made a funk wash over you that you couldn't quite name. While you had said you wanted her to make a decision, the way she was acting was making you feel insignificant. Like all her words were phrased like the beginning or end of an email.

“I don't think that's necessary, I'm perfectly capable of being normal.” You slipped on your dress and stepped into your shoes.

“I'm sure you are but, y/n,” she let out a huff and looked down and you furrowed your brows, sensing the shift in energy. You walked closer and she let in a breath, “I don't know if I can stay away from you. You're just too… ethereal.” she said with a small laugh at the last word. You don't know why but all you felt was anger washing over you rapidly at her use of the word. The word you searched so hard for to describe her so she knew just how radiant she had looked to you, only to be turned away and scolded for it. Now, all these months later, she begins to understand its meaning and uses it to for you?

“Melissa.” you said firmly, now standing right behind her, your hand coming to her shoulder to let her turn back around. “You use that word like it didn't cause you to nearly jump away from me when I said it to you.” You kept your chin high and your back straight, hoping she didnt see through the fake confidence and find out how much she intimidated you.

“I know. Baby I think you are phenomenal, but this thing would only cause trouble.” she said gesturing between the two of you and you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. Just when you thought she was trying to be genuine, she throws another cliche. You grab your purse and phone and look at her with a small scowl.

“It already has. Don't worry though, if you say it's over, it's over.” you brushed past her and headed out, your friends ready to pick you up outside.

It had been awhile since you had been under the influence of anything that wasn't weed or alcohol, but when you got in the car after Melissa's revelations, your friend's friend offered you some ecstasy and well of course you did not decline in your current state. However, you were having a delightful time because of this fact. You were hardly thinking of Melissa, and you were just happily dancing with your friends, and drinking some cocktails. It was all around a great night until suddenly everything went downhill really fast when you went to the restroom and were waiting in the line. There were three women ahead of you and you just scrolled on your phone as you waited. You came across a picture Melissa put on instagram and you felt your stomach twirl and you furrowed your brows. You soon felt an ache between your legs and you let out a small sigh. You forgot the increased libido that can sometimes come with this substance.

When it was finally your turn you went in to pee and looked up at the wall in front of you. Your eyes widened when you saw a particular writing amongst all the scribbles and words on the walls that stood out to you. Though you knew it was a mere coincidence, seeing a heart etched around an M and your own initial, caused you to let out a pathetic laugh. You hurried up to finish and looked at it closely once more. How cheesy and cliche this marking was, yet staring at it gave you an eerie and looming feeling you again, couldn't describe. You felt a sadness take over when thoughts of your redhead flooded your mind. You took a picture and exited the restroom, walking to find your friends. Now the woman was present in your mind and she wouldn't leave. She was everywhere you looked, and everything your friends talked about would somehow bring a memory of her. She had infiltrated your thoughts so much even the red club lights made you think of her.

“Guys Peter is fucked up we gotta go.” one of your other friends said coming over and you all stood up and nodded as you gathered your things. You got dropped off first and said good night to everyone before entering your home as quiet as possible. It was almost three in the morning so you were trying to be super cautious. After taking off your shoes and setting your purse down you went to the bathroom but paused when you saw Melissa's light was still on. You could hear the TV faintly and what you assumed was movement. Most of the effects of the drug had worn off and now you were left with the deadly combination of arousal, alcohol, and anger.

You went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer to nurse for the next hour since you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep. All you could think of at this moment was the fact that the beautiful woman that you had the most passionate and pleasurable sexual experience you have ever had in your life was less than two inches of wood away from you. You decided to say screw it and grabbed your phone, texting her as you sat in your room.

Are you still up? I see your light on.

She didn't say anything and you huffed. Damn, what were you doing? All that whining and complaining about wanting her to make a choice and she does and now you are picking for her attention. Hypocrisy didn't feel good, but seeing Melissa would and that's all you wanted in this moment. Thankfully you always have the drugs to blame if not.

Yeah. Can't sleep.

You looked at the message with a small smirk and stood up, you checked your makeup in the mirror and fixed your hair.

Did you just get home?

yeah. had to leave early.

Everything okay?

Your heart fluttered at her question and you sighed looking down at your phone. You could say yes, and then leave it alone, or you could say yes and ask her what she was doing. Your thumbs danced over your screen and you went to type when bubbles popped up.

Do you want to come talk about it?

You didn't say anything and sighed. You knew you should say no and go to sleep. To refuse and remind her this isn't what she said she wanted. You can just stay in here and save so much trouble. Your phone buzzed and you looked at a message from her.

Who says anything has to happen, Sweetheart.

You felt a fire ignite between your legs at the message and you looked up at your door. Peaking out of it you looked at her door and saw the light was now dimmer, the glow of the TV seeming to be the only thing casting on the floor and out of the room. You took a breath and walked over quietly. Your parents room was on the other end of the house, but if you spoke loud enough they’d still hear you, so you tried your best to be smooth with your actions. A shaky hand reached out to the door handle and grabbed it gently, pushing down slowly before opening it slightly and stepping in.

As you walked in you saw Melissa was in bed with her head propped up on her hand, she looked away from the TV to catch your gaze. She smiled at you with an almost sweet and pure grin that sent a shiver down your spine. It was a rather unusual expression to be displayed on her face. As heavy eyes traced her form under the covers, you didn't hesitate to walk over and pull the covers back slowly as you slipped into the bed with her. Your cold legs were met with the warmth of her body and you felt your thighs squeeze together at the realization you were once again in bed with Melissa Schemmenti. Slowly your eyes met hers and yours softened as you looked over her face. The light from the TV illuminated her beautifully, the colors popping off her cheeks and making her eyes sparkle, of course it was some rom-com playing too. Muffled voices from the TV swirled with quiet romantic music filled the air to allow for less awkward silence, and mixed with the thick tension between the two of you caused the atmosphere to be flawless. You reached your hand out to cup one of her cheeks and she looked down then at you, slightly taken aback as her eyes looked between yours trying her best to read your intentions hidden behind your doe eyes that didn't pull away from hers even to blink.

“I don't want to talk about it Melissa.” was all you said in a low and desperate voice before you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers. You kissed her with passion and hunger, moving on top of her and stroking her cheek with your thumb. It was then as your legs tangled together that you realized she was only wearing underwear and a tight thin-strapped tank top with a v-shaped neckline that allowed for almost all her cleavage to be on display. You moaned into the kiss as Melissa moved her hands along your waist and to your hips, her fingers gripped them tightly and they found the hem of your own shirt, sliding it up slightly so her fingers could feel your skin. You moved a hand down her side, sliding it slowly over her stomach between your bodies, before moving down to gently brush your fingers over her clothed center. Her hips pushed up into you and you kissed her deeply, she moaned into your mouth and you felt your stomach flip and your core throb. Her hands moved from your hips to your ass, squeezing it firmly before she moved her hands back to your waist. She pulled away and her hand came to grip around your jaw as she admired your reddened face and shallow breathing.

“Remember I call the shots sweetie.” she said in her velvety voice as she pushed her lips to yours with aggression. A pathetic moan slipped into her mouth and without a moment to catch a rhythm she took your bottom lip between her teeth, you moaned again as her knee went to press between your legs. Your kiss grew sloppy as you pushed down onto her knee and you felt her smile as she hummed in satisfaction. She pulled away and sat up and you grew fearful for a moment before she pulled back the covers and sat against the pillows and your breath hitched as you slowly moved up to her, she stopped you with her foot and you wrapped your hands around her ankle in a submissive gesture. With a desperate hand you grabbed her panties and pulled them off before setting them aside, your hands stroked up her calf as you continued to hold her leg, pressing kisses to her silky, soft skin. You went over her knee and started inside her thigh before her pulled you up to her lips with a harsh kiss.

“Good Girl.” she muttered breathily into the kiss as her hands tangled in your hair and you felt your brain melt at the line and the delivery. Your core ached for her and you couldn't help the touch starved nerves reacting to her heavenly grasp. You squeezed her breasts and she moaned which caused a cocky smirk to prick at your mouth and Melissa pulled back and a hand slid to your throat, squeezing ever so gently, before sliding down to rest in a V at the base of your neck, resting above your collarbones.

“Do you like making me feel good baby?” she teased and you nodded hesitantly, “Then don't get cocky about it. Now come on, we have to be quiet.” she quipped and you paused to make sure you weren't just dreaming and everything was going to disappear if you moved too quickly. She moved her hands to your shoulders and pushed you down and you quickly grasped what the gesture ment, your hands slowly ran down the sides of her thighs, you squeezed them, nails teasingly scratching down the sides of her soft skin. With one hand you pushed her shirt up to reveal her stomach, your palm resting flat on her stomach, trailing down to her lower stomach, you traced along the invisible band of panties, moving your hand to her hips. You leaned down and placed kisses to her upper thighs. Her plush and silky skin was irresistible and it made it hard to not soak in every inch of her. You looked up at her with a smile and her hand came to brush your hair from your face. Gentle kisses were placed along the crease between her thigh and stomach and she flinched slightly. You smiled against her skin and you soon felt her hand go to your hair and grip it with a mild force to warn you. With starstruck eyes you looked up at her as you kissed closer to her slit.

“Come on sweetie, I need you now.” she spoke out softly and with a clear flustered tone. Mischievous eyes met her hazy ones and you kissed her center. You didn't waste any time and your lips met her clit, sucking and licking a stripe up her folds. Her hand gripped your hair tighter and you heard her breathing hitch. You smiled to yourself before moaning into her cunt as your tongue collected her slick, you wrapped your hands around her thighs to hold them in place, the pads of your fingers pressing down into her skin. The sweet, soft sounds that left Melissa’s lips painted her in a much different light than you were used to seeing from the rather feisty redhead. Instead here she was beneath you, yearning for you and whimpering as you moved your tongue in circles around her clit before pushing it inside her. Her head went back onto the pillow and her nails ran through your hair, gripping it as you felt the muscles of her thighs flex to move together.

Melissa’s breath grew slow and shallow and you felt her back arching up slightly, you pulled away to breath, a small smirk and she looked down at you quickly.

“The fuck are you doing.” she stated more so rather than asking.

“Breathing Melissa, give me a second baby. Fuck you really are so hot for me huh?” you laughed as you bit your lip with big eyes looking up at her with a seductive playfulness. The hand she had in your hair came down to your face, gently cupping your cheek before she gripped your jaw tightly.

“Be a good girl or I will kick you out and finish myself off.” she hissed with a low voice and you felt your stomach grow hot as your core ached. She jerked your head slightly as she moved her hand back with attitude. It went to rest in your hair again, brushing it away from your face as you kissed her gently on her clit. You knew what she wanted, but as you held onto her, your head between her thighs and her fingers playing with you hair you realized at any moment this could all be gone, she could be gone, and you wouldnt get to live through this amazing of an experience ever again. She had done it to you before too, and that only worried you more. Therefore rushing through this was hard when all you wanted to do was soak up every inch of her body. The curves of her hips, the fold between her thigh and waist, the stretch marks along her bottom that ever so slightly stretch to the sides of her lower stomach like the stripes of a tiger. Her soft, radiant skin that tasted sweet and smelled of roses was a sensation you wouldn't forget. Your tongue flicked over her clit as you moved a hand to her center, shoving a finger in her without warning and moaning into her cunt. You closed your eyes to savor the moment, heightening your other senses. You could taste her sweetness and smell her scent, the sounds that left her pouty lips rang sweetly in your ear and created a rhythm with her heavy breathing. You inserted another finger and she let out a moan and you felt it send a jolt right to your own pussy. You pressed your thighs together and moved your fingers in and out of her slowly, stroking her inside with precision and delicacy. Her hips pushed up and your fingers went in deeper.

“Fuck!” her raspy voice moaned out with more projection than intended and you squeezed her thigh tighter.

“You have to be quiet.” you spoke quickly before continuing to suck on her clit with the rhythm of your fingers thrusting into her.

“I'm almost there sweetie- yes god.” Her hand pulled your hair and her other gripped the sheets as her back arched up off the bed. You felt encouraged to speed up and use more force, your tongue pressed down firmly and her hips jutted slightly and you smiled, they rolled against your fingers and tongue as she breathed heavy. You looked up at her and the sight alone could replace any porno you could watch. Her hair and face was illuminated from the TV and her brows were pushed together as her teeth bit into her bottom lip, holding in a moan. Her chest was glistening ever so slightly from the sheen of erotics. You picked up the pace and felt her squeeze around your fingers, her hips grinded into you faster and you matched her pace, you moaned into her cunt, the vibrations causing a sensation to ripple through her clit and she whined through tight lips.

“Fuck Im gonna cum baby.” she spoke heavily and her thighs squeezed around you as she came, her cunt hugging your fingers as you continued to move them. Her legs tensed up and her back was off the bed. Her hips didnt stop but slowed as she rode out her high and allowed her body to rest back on the bed fully, she caught her breath and opened her eyes finally looking down at you. You pulled your fingers out of her and she grabbed you hand keeping them inside of her and you felt your core tighten, you placed sloppy kisses on her inner thigh and she sighed. Slowly your fingers curled inside of her and she flinched with a grunt. You continued the motion and she sucked in a breath. You didn't tear your darkening eyes away from her sparkling ones as you moved your thumb to brush her clit. Both of her hands came up to rest on your shoulders, gripping them and stroking over them and over your biceps before back up and to your neck, they tangled in your hair and the action sent a chill up your spine. Your fingers moved faster and you felt her clench around you and you smiled at her. She bit her lip and her eyes grew hazy as she rapidly reached a second orgasm. She didn't allow her eyes to shut, wanting to watch you admire her as she came around your fingers for a second time.

She let out a soft moan as she came and she couldn't help but feel some of the serotonin from the high quickly go to waste as she looked into your eyes. So sweet and pure looking up at her with such admiration. Your lips were red and puffy and your eyes glossy from your prior efforts and she couldn't help but feel guilty as she looked into your helpless eyes. Yes you could take care of yourself, and yes being in your general presence was just as good as being in bed with you, but Melissa couldn't shake this guilt she was taking opportunities away from you. When you finally pulled out and away from her, you crawled up to meet her lips. Her green eyes looked over your face as you hovered over her, her hands coming to stroke your cheek and tuck hair from your face. The domestic and loving action gave you intense butterflies and you smiled, leaning in to press your lips against hers.

She moaned into the kiss as she tasted herself on your plump lips and she allowed her tongue to enter your mouth as she deepened the kiss, her hand coming to rest on your lower back. You pulled back and kissed down her jaw, moving to her neck and quickly reaching her chest, you placed kisses down her sternum and stopped at the top of her cleavage. You looked up at her and she just admired you worshiping her. You were everything she ever wanted, so why on earth did it still feel wrong to love every minute she was with you. After all these months and encounters, sex and fighting, kissing and laughing, you brought her a joy she couldn't find with anyone else.

“We need to fuck somewhere I can hear all the moans from your pretty mouth freely.” you muttered against her chest before looking up at her. She was smiling and the mischievous glint in your eyes faded as you looked into hers. You could see she was thinking hard about something and you pushed your brows together slightly as you came to meet her face once more. Your stomachs were pressed together and your legs intertwined your arm propping you up so you could look into her eyes.

“What's wrong Melissa?” you asked softly and she was quick to shake her head. Her fingers grazed your cheek softly and she played with the hair behind your ear.

“Nothing, you did so good for me baby.” she smiled and you felt a relief spread through you. She suddenly moved and flipped you so she was on top. Her warm body pressed against yours as she leaned in and kissed you with haste until your lips quickly began to grow pink and raw again, you pulled away for air and without a second thought her soft lips were moving down your jaw and your neck. You moaned when she bit down suddenly and your hips pushed up into hers. Nerves and adrenaline flooded your veins and you were on a whole other high from it.

You could feel your panties were soaked, and from that though you moved your hand from Melissa's breast to squeeze her still naked bottom.

“Take off your clothes hon.” she muttered into your hot flesh. You smirked and obeyed taking off your dress and allowing Melissa to have her way with you.

You woke up to bright light from the sunrise shining in through the window and your eyes fluttered as they adjusted. Looking around confused, your eyes went wide when you saw Melissa beside you still and realized you had never made it back to your room. A hand went to your head before looking over at the alarm clock. Thankfully it was only six so you quickly grabbed your dress from the foot of the bed and your panties that were lost in the sheets. All the movement caused Melissa to wake up and she looked over at you.

“Fuck.” was all she said and you nodded in agreement as you stood up out of the bed. You grabbed a throw blanket to wrap around you and looked around for your phone. When you realized you didn't bring it with you, you let out an exhausted sigh before looking up at Melissa. Even freshly awake from a night like you’d had, she still looked like an angel, her hair was still loosely curled and her lashes were long. She watched you with uncertainty, nor sure what to say or do.

“What time do you leave?” you asked softly and her eyes looked over your expression but you managed to maintain a rather neutral one.

“Ten.” she answered and you nodded.

“Um-” you started to fill the awkward air and she shook her head.

“It's fine hon, there's no reason to act like you shouldnt be leaving, we can't have anyone seeing.” you nodded once more and looked down.

“I guess I will see you for Anthony's birthday then.” you said casually and she looked over your frame with confusion.

“His birthday party isn't until the end of March?” The phrase came out almost as a question, hoping it could disguise the slight hurt in the sentence. You looked up at her and shrugged.

“Yeah I mean I don't usually come back for anything between now and then.” Your words were honest and you couldn't help but be shy from the thick tension in the air that seemed to suck out the oxygen causing your lungs to tighten slightly.

“So you dont want to see each other til then?” you looked in her eyes at the question, she seemed genuinely unbothered to be asking and this only confused you more. In reality Melissa was just as confused as you. Did you not want to see her or were you too scared to ask out of fear of another rejection by her hand.

“If i'm ever in Philly i'll give you a call, you do the same for me too?” Your heart stung a bit but you knew this was the best arrangement. You weren't a couple and you could never be one and you both needed to accept that.

“Okay.” she nodded and you smiled.

“Ok.” you turned to leave but she got up.

“Hang on, Hon.” She came to stand in front of you and you faced her, her hands came to grasp your face gently and she pulled you in for a kiss, her lips pressed against yours with tender love and pure emotion. You kissed her back, her sweetness filling your senses as your mouths moved in a perfect rhythm. She pulled away, placing one more peck and then looking between your eyes, gathering any remaining information she could. Your heart fluttered as your eyes gazed into hers and you gave her a sweet smile before opening the door.

“Don't be a stranger.” she said sincerely and rather softly, causing an ache in your chest as the vulnerable tone.

“I'd be an idiot to try and forget you Melissa.” you walked out quietly and shut the door behind you before quietly shuffling back to your room. As soon as you shut your door the wave of depression and uncertainty hit and you fell into bed, sliding into your sheets and drifting back into a deep sleep.

When you woke up the house was silent, your phone was dead on your nightstand, and it was cloudy outside. You stood up slipping on a t- shirt and shorts and going into the hall. The guest room door was cracked and you walked over slowly. Your hands pulled it back and you peeked inside. The air was empty and clean, the bed was made, and it looked almost untouched. As if she hadn't even been here at all. As if it really was all just a dream. The only thing that allowed you to believe it really happened was the familiar weight on your chest, and the lingering touch of her on your skin.

Like always, you wouldn't see her again for months. The only thing that was different this time around was when you went back to work your boss was eagerly waiting for you. Standing before you like a confident and sexy method of getting over Melissa faster.

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okkkk what did we think??? please lmk and please send in requestsss

tags// @vyvvycg @freshrot @neverfindmegone @insert-issueslol @pitstopsapphic @darkcolorphantom

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #melissa x reader #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti smut

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reigningqueenofwords · 3 months

Text

Forgiven

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 2,530 Request: @jessicalynnann Okay when you have time how about Dean is a cop and he and the reader are established well she thinks Dean is pulling away cause he is working a lot and there is a new partner who is pretty. Well she and Mary are shopping and she breaks down and tells Mary that she thinks she is losing Dean. Well what about there is a robbery where the reader works and she gets hurt and Dean risks his life to save her. I had this dream last night. Can you make the ending something like this I love you so much but I guess I’m doing this here. And he gets down on one knee… no rush.

Read on AO3

You’d been with Dean nearly 7 years. You were by his side all through the academy, and when he got his badge. Things had been really good, and while there’d been no proposal or talk of a family, you felt you were on the way. One day you knew you’d call Dean your husband, and the father of your children.

And then Dean’s hours went up. Fine. He was busy. That happened. However, after the first couple weeks of the new hours you felt like Dean wasn’t your Dean. When he would crawl into bed he was out. No pulling you close, no holding you. Instead of eating breakfast with you (on the mornings he was there at the same time), he’d grab something on the way to work. You couldn’t remember the last time he had taken you on a date, either. Or surprised you with flowers ‘just because’.

After a month of this, you found out that he had a new partner. He hadn’t even told you. You’d met her at the cookout he and a few of his coworkers had now and then. It was them, and their significant others. She had walked up to you, a big smile on her (too beautiful) face. “You must be Y/N! I’m Kelly.” She held out her hand, clearly excited to meet you.

You shook it, not wanting to be rude. “Nice to meet you. Are you dating one of the guys?” You knew a couple of them were single, so maybe they had met someone?

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, I’m Winchester’s new partner.” She chuckled. New partner ? What happened to his old partner? “For about a month now.” She moved to stand next to you.

“I honestly didn’t know he had a new partner.” You admitted, feeling embarrassed. “He hasn’t talked much about work recently.”

“It does get really busy.” She nodded, a tension settling between the pair of you. “The guys have been so welcoming, too.”

Her bubblynes was so odd to you. Not in general, but at this moment. How could she not feel the awkwardness? That you clearly had no idea that she even existed before today? “They’re all great.” You agreed. “I always look forward to catching up with all of them at the cookouts. I haven’t been able to have any of them over for dinner lately.”

“Oh, if I would have known I would have invited you when I had everyone over last Wednesday.” She shook her head.

“Everyone? Was Dean there?” Your heart clenched. Dean said he had work, so just make yourself something. Was that ‘work’ spending time with the guys at Kelly’s?

She nodded. “Yeah, him, Cas, Sam…most of the guys.” She shrugged. “We hung out for a couple hours, had some beers.” You couldn’t be angry at Kelly. She didn’t know that she was pouring salt in your wounds.

Dean came over, grinning. He had a beer in one hand, and a plate in the other. “Hey, babe. I see you met Winters.” He said happily. “I told you you’d get along.”

You gave him a funny look. “You never told me about her.” You said awkwardly. “I didn’t know you had a new partner. She is nice, though.” That was something you couldn't deny. It still didn’t alleviate you feeling off about the entire situation. “Oh, I see Donna. I’m gonna go say hi. I haven’t seen her in what feels like forever.” You excused yourself, rushing to talk to her.

Chuckling, Dean watched you go, sipping his beer.

A couple weeks later, you were lounging when Mary texted you. Up for some shopping with your mother in law? You sighed at her wording. Mary and John were like your second parents, and you adored them. Would you lose them, too?

Always! Let me shower and get ready. Want me to meet you at the mall? You got up, making your way to your room.

I’ll pick you up in half an hour :) She replied.

You felt you’d done well hiding how you were feeling, but when you were in the second store, Mary brought it up. “You seem to have something on your mind, do you want to talk about it?” She asked, concern lacing her voice. “I can get it if it’s Dean being a cop. I mean, John just retired. Every day I worried about him coming home.”

“I think I’m losing him.” You admitted, tearing up. Quickly wiping your cheek, you focused on the dresses you were looking at. “I can get long hours, but it’s him feeling gone even when he’s home. He doesn’t pull me close anymore, doesn’t take me on dates, doesn’t surprise me with flowers, or anything. And have you met his new partner?”

Mary shook her head. “No, I’ve heard he’s good, though.”

“ She’s gorgeous.” You huffed. “I can barely get him to eat dinner with me, but one night he told me he had to work and just to make dinner for myself. He was at her house with some of the guys hanging out for a couple hours. And having dinner. I hate feeling so insecure and like he’d rather be with her.”

She pulled you into a hug. “Dean loves you so much.” She tried. “I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

You hugged her back, welcoming the comfort. “I might go stay with my parents for a few days. I don’t think he’d even notice.” Which hurt even worse.

“Our house is closer to your job. You can come stay with us.” She pulled back to look at you, hands on your arms. “John will love having you around, too.”

After a moment, you nodded. “Okay, sure. Let’s finish up this shopping, and then I’ll go pack a bag. I’ll make dinner tonight. It’s been a bit since I’ve cooked for anyone but myself.” That alone gave you something to look forward to.

Dean got home just after 11 that night, and wasn’t surprised to see all the lights off. There was no sign in the first floor of the house that anything was different. He toed off his shoes, hung his belt on the coat rack, and made his way to the kitchen. Sometimes he got lucky and there were leftovers from dinner that night. When he didn’t see anything, he assumed that there hadn’t been anything left over.

After he had a quick sandwich and a glass of milk, he made his way upstairs. He froze when he noticed the bed was still made. You weren’t in it. His nightstand lamp was on, and there was a paper folded against it. Walking over to it, he sat on the bed and lifted the paper. Did you leave him? It took him a moment for him to open it.

Dean-

I’m staying with your parents for a few days while I do some thinking. We’ve been together almost 7 years. 7 years in two weeks, actually. Did you have any idea that our anniversary was coming up?

I barely see you, and when I do? You aren’t even *here*. It’s like you’re somewhere else. When you started working more, I understood. Your job is important, which meant the times you were home would mean more. Instead, those times hurt worse.

When was the last time you held me at night? When was the last time you held my hand? Took me on a date? Cuddled with me while watching a movie (even if you fell asleep, I would be over the moon for that time with you)?

Do you know how badly it hurt to want you home for dinner now and then, just to find out you went to your new partner’s for dinner? A new partner I didn’t know about, might I add. You’d rather go spend time with your gorgeous new partner than make it home for one dinner with the woman who has been by your side for everything, and that says a lot.

I’m not saying I’m leaving you, but I do need to figure some things out.

I love you, Dean.

-Y/N

He clenched his jaw as tears rolled down his cheeks. Looking back, he knew this wasn’t out of left field. He knew what you were talking about. He’d seen the hurt on your face lately, too. He’d pushed it away, though. He’d told himself it was something else. It wasn’t about him. Dean sniffed, opening up his night stand drawer to pull out the tiny black box he’d put in there two months prior. Lifting the lid, he looked down at the ring he’d bought you, and wondered if he missed his chance. All he saw when he pictures his life was you by his side, and probably a kid or two. You’d be a great mom.

“Fuck.” He breathed. He had an early shift the next day, so he’d go straight to you after work.

It stung when you woke up to no texts or missed calls from Dean. You knew that by now he would have gotten your note. Unless he didn’t go home last night . The thought caught you off guard. He’d never not come home. Even if he came home late. Pushing those thoughts from your head, you got ready for work. You worked at a high end jewelry store, and had been promoted to manager 6 months prior. It paid well, and you liked all the people you worked with.

Dean hadn’t slept well the night before, and knew he’d be powering through his shift with a lot of (bad) coffee. He also wanted to talk to his chief about cutting back his hours, even just an hour here and there. Anything to be with you more. If he even had you more.

It was nearly 4 when he was alerted to a robbery. At your job. “Shit!” He flipped on the sirens and lights before speeding off. He was only a few minutes away, but it felt like ages before he pulled up in front of it. He could see through the glass, where you were being held at gunpoint. The only other worker wasn’t someone he recognized, so he assumed they were new. What a way to start a job!

“Isn’t that your girlfriend?” Kelly asked as they parked.

“Yes, it is.” His voice was betraying him. He was trying to sound calm, but he felt like he’d lose it at any moment. “I’m going around back.” He told her.

She whipped her head to look at him. “What? Why not wait for backup? Can you even get in?”

“I can’t wait and risk her getting shot.” He pulled off his jacket. “And I can. I know the code. She’s the manager, so she told me.” Did you have a gut feeling he’d need it at some point?

“And do what in there? I can see the door to the back of the store. Which means he can.” She opened her door to get in place.

“I can distract him. Or maybe I can talk him down from inside. The storefront has bullet proof glass. She was really excited when it was installed. It’s supposed to be basically unbreakable.” He explained.

“This isn't procedure!” She tried. However, she watched him rush around the back, gun drawn. “Damn in, Winchester!” She hissed, hearing other cops arriving.

You were shaking, tears in your eyes, while the man in front of you aimed his gun at you. You’d heard the cops pull up, but that didn’t seem to phase him one bit. Someone must have called, because you didn’t even have a chance to trigger the silent alarm. He had to know that there was no getting out of this without being arrested, right?

The door next to you busted in, making you and Alice scream. The robber whipped his gun towards the door. The door blocked whoever it was from view, but only a few people had the code. You quickly looked out the front of the store and saw Kelly. But no Dean.

Just as it registered that your boyfriend was the one that came in, you heard two gunshots. The robber went down, and you rushed to the door. “Dean!” You sobbed, pulling off your blazer to press it against his chest. “Oh God.” Moving, you rested his head on your lap as you could hear people rushing into the store.

Dean hissed in pain as you kept pressure on his chest. “Fuck, I didn’t want to do it like this, but I gotta ask. I love you more than anything. Will you marry me? Your ring is in my nightstand.” He wanted you to know, just in case he didn’t make it.

You nodded. “Of course I’ll marry you.” The feelings of the past month or so were pushed from your mind. The only thing you could focus on was the fact that Dean had been shot. “I love you so much.” You sniffed.

“Ma’am, we need to get him into an ambulance.” Came a voice.

“Yeah, yeah.” You gently moved his head off your lap so you could get out of their way. You watched as they got him onto a stretcher.

You’d stopped at home on the way to the hospital. You wanted to put on your ring, so when Dean woke up, he saw you wearing it. You also knew that you wouldn’t be seeing him right away. Mary had already been called, and told you that they would meet you at the hospital.

Once there, you didn’t keep track of how much time you had been sitting there. All you could do is stare at the double doors that a doctor would come out of to talk to the family of Dean Winchester. John held Mary’s hand, both worried for their eldest. Sam was currently at work- at the police station, oddly enough. There was no telling when Dean’s coworkers would come flooding into the waiting room.

“Dean Winchester’s family?” A doctor called out. You, John, and Mary stood. “Hi, I’m Dr. Micheals. Surgery went well, and he’s awake now. Groggy, but awake. For now I’ll ask that you go see him one at a time.” He gave you a comforting smile.

“Go.” Mary nudged you. “We’ll see him after.”

Nodding, you followed the doctor to Dean’s room. “Thank you.” You said softly before stepping in.

“Hey, babe.” He smiled.

While a few tears had slipped out while you waited, hearing his voice broke the dam. Sobbing, you went over and gently kissed him. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” You cupped his cheek.

“You’re stuck with me. For life.” He gave you that smirk that he knew just melted you. “I’m sorry about this past month. I had planned to talk to the chief after my shift about cutting back my hours some.” He rested his hand on your leg as you sat on the side of his bed. “And I know I’ll be on leave while I heal. So, I’m all yours. I’m not leaving your side.”

You smiled at that. “Alls forgiven.” You promised him.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader

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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 9 months

Note

Hi if requests are still open could I ask for nsfw headcanons for Erwin, Levi and Hange? Thanks so much in advance 😊🩵

Yaaaaay, veteran trio sure thing :)

Disclaimer: I use they/them pronouns for Hanji and since this request is NSFW in nature also AFAB language/terms will also be used for them. And Levi’s portion goes into the expected heavy shit about his childhood and Underground. ...Erwin’s I just... idk. Wrote with my dick I guess 🧍🏻‍♂️

Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used) with AFAB or AMAB anatomy depending on reader's choice since both options are lightly given. Hope that makes sense.

NSFW contents under the cut 😉

Erwin Smith

Dear Reader, I want you to look me directly in the eyes and try to tell me this man doesn't have a big dick - trick question you can't. The man is big all over. But he's very polite about it, not one to brag but it does bring a warm smile to his face to see your eyes practically pop out of your head the first time you're down on your knees, crouched down in front of the chair to his desk, mouth already watering as you quickly undo his belt and unzip him to be able to pull him out - only to go eyes owl wide when it nearly smacks you in the face. It takes a lot from him not to chuckle out when your hand goes to hesitantly wrap around it - only for you to flinch back when it twitches hello in your grasp, he finds it very cute actually.

Hairy chest. That's all. Actually no - hairy everything. It's great.

He is loud very loud - Erwin’s a loud man in general, kind of has to be when he's been in a military superior position for good portion of his life. But it didn't come up from that, no, Erwin’s always been loud when it comes to 'entertaining' lovers - even since he younger, if Erwin Smith is having sex everyone will know it, does not help he's a screamer (Nile and Mike have always teased him about it) but he sees no shame in it - just proof his lover(s) made him feel good and wears it like a badge of honor. And don't think he's alone in this, he will make damn well sure you're just as satisfied until your lungs go sore.

But if you are embarrassed of having people give you awkward looks afterwards, the solution is actually very simple: gag him. It could be with anything really; your underwear, your fingers, your hands around his thick neck, your hole/cock, get really creative with it :) And if you want yourself to not be heard, just tell him I'm sure he can think of some naughty ideas too.

Erwin has... complicated issues with relationships, both being Commander and focusing on attaining his dream he'd rather not be tied down to a serious relationship, but he has no issue with a friends with benefits type situation - stress relief. God does he need stress relief. However, if you are in a serious relationship with him then it's clear you're obviously very special to him - which also complicates things. For one I see him refusing to date a civilian so you have to be in the Survey Corps and fully understand what that means, to fully understand the 'delicate your hearts' oath and fully know damn well either of you could die at any time each time you step outside the Walls. Plus Erwin has a lot - and I mean a lot of enemies, you being someone someone so dear and close to him makes you a number one target and he knows that, he struggles with that, however it's a good motivator in a way; keeps him more focused and on guard, it makes him more careful, it makes him gather more and more blackmail on certain people if needed. That being said, the sex between you and him if you're dating - or hell married - is full blown romantic.

Don't get me wrong, he'll still blow your back out if you ask, but most of the times when you both find the time to sink to each other's touch it's with this air of gentleness Erwin has honestly never experienced with another partner, even Marie. You're... something special to him. Maybe it's because unlike past romantic interests - both men and women - you actually understand what's going on inside his head, you get how important his dreams are, you get his guilt, you actually know the... unspeakable wonder (beside all the titan killing fellow comrades thing) of what it's like outside the Walls. Freedom.

His kisses are so gentle yet grounded, he makes sure to kiss every inch of your body while muttering all sorts of praise and adoration with his lips pressed up against your skin so you can feel his words.

His big, thick fingers work open your hole/pump around your cock with steady rhythm as he takes you on his bed. He loves feeling your hands spring up and encourage his actions by messing up his normally perfect stylized hair and turning it into a complete blonde mess.

Loves hearing you, your voice sounds like absolute heaven to him if there is one and your voice crying out his name over and over and over and over and over again as he makes you come with nothing but his fingers/hand never fails to briefly send him there each time.

When he's inside you he can't help but feel overwhelmed, you're so warm and tight hugging your walls around him and if you're smaller than him he will never fail to tell you how seeing his cock not even able to completely enter all the way inside without the tip of his cock already pressed to deep that his head is rubbing at the deepest part it can go without you completely breaking entirely. If you're around the same size or maybe even a little bigger, then it's still the same, it brings a wide stupid grin on his face to look back as he has your legs tossed back and you're on your back you taking his prick all the way up to his base, balls resting comfortably against your ass. He feels ecstasy when he can start fucking deep into you.

When I said loud, I mean loud-loud. And if you're more than just an occasional fuck? Double that by like - twenty. He will vocalize each and every single thing he's feeling and is on his mind as he pounds into you. The headboard? Is banging against the wall so loud that Cadets two floors down in the Mess Hall can hear it and could mistake it for Wall Rose getting breached. It's an absolute miracle that shit hasn't split in two yet and especially with how one of Erwin’s hands clutches down onto it to keep himself grounded as he fucks you, moaning and groaning your name and all sorts of curses so loud that Levi’s viciously kicking the wall down the hall in his own office just as loud to tell you two to shut the fuck up but neither of you can hear it as you're so fucking lost in one another.

Call him Commander in bed. Do it. That twenty will turn into a hundred so fucking fast, not as fast as Erwin rearranges you to turn around - front facing the bedroom door - and straddling his hips with your back to him and your arms are held behind your back as he roughly bounces you on his lap. Everyone in this damn building and outside it will know what you're doing.

I mentioned his hairy chest? Yeah, well that adds a nice friction on your back and his chest is so plump you can lay back in them almost like pillows. Meaty, hairy, pillows. It's nice. They jiggle underneath you btw.

When he comes it's like a geyser going off inside you - literally. He'll fill you so full and your ears will practically ring from how loud he'll scream unless you quickly muffle his mouth up with your own or something, if not... well, everyone already knows what you've been doing at this point. If not? They certainly do now. But you try not to think about it, watching the flood of come pouring out of your when his cock slips out and staining both your and his thighs and the bedsheets.

Erwin acts practically drunk in the afterglow, his words are slurred and he has this wide toothy smile on his face you can't help but to kiss. This is the true stress relief. Here, his thoughts are the furthest from everything; the Walls, the titans, the Government, the Crown, the maybe-possible-if-his-father's-right people living outside the Walls... his dream... all of it. This is one few times he can completely distract himself away from all of it. He isn't Erwin Smith, Commander of the Survey Corps and accidental murder of his father - he's just... Erwin. And he's with you, just you - not Squad Leader (Name) (Surname). Just you, (Name). Nothing outside this very room matters, just laying in each other's arms and taking in the glow of being with one another. Knowing damn well you'll have to remember and face it all once you leave here.

But it's fine. He wouldn't be with you nor you would him if you didn't know that, if you didn't want to fight back against everything that be - if you didn't want Erwin’s dream to come true. And everyday, bit by bit you make further strides for that dream, together. You’ll reclaim Wall Maria, capture outside the Walls, beat the titans, learn the truth of what's to know about them. And see that thing mentioned in one of Erwin’s forbidden hidden books his father left... what was it again? Oh yeah, the sea. The ocean.

You two will see that together. You promised one another. No matter what.

Levi Ackerman

Right off the bat it should be stated: Levi has a complicated relationship with sex - it should be obvious, given how he grew up. Where he grew up. What his mother did for a living, and... he very much grew up aware of what she did. It's not just sex either, relationships, dating as a whole he's... complicated with.

Two things: Levi doesn't do causal flings, he doesn't do causal relationships. If he's with you in the first place it's because he loves you. If he didn't he wouldn't be with you and it's that simple, he's doesn't vocalize it much - he has... issues with words, serious, emotion-y words - but if you're with him at all romantically in the first place you already know him fluently enough to understand that. He doesn't have to say "I love you," very often - you already know he does, and when he actually does voice it, it's always at the absolute most vulnerable positions he can be to show you how much he genuinely means it.

Trust is important to him. Very important. He loves you, he wouldn't be with you if he didn't as we already established that. Sex? Completely different ball park. If he wants to he sexually active with you it is beyond trust with him. It's beyond just trusting his own life in your hands, it's beyond letting you handle his old knives, it's beyond trusting you enough to tell you horror stories of how he grew up, it's beyond telling you just how close Farlan and Isabel were to him that they were practically siblings to him, it's beyond telling you about Kenny and how for the longest time and still sometimes that it fucks him up to think... he knew his mother - doesn't know how, the bastard always refused to ever tell him, and then just one day for no fucking reason just... walked out. Walked out without a word or anything. Left him to barely survive down there on his own until Farlan and Isabel. How for years... he was convinced the bastard might be his father. Because what else could he be? Visiting and knowing his dead mother by name - her actual name - and picking Levi up and saving him when he was on the brink of starvation, if Kenny hadn't arrived when he did then... he might've very well been dead by the next day. It's just... or it was hard to think up any other possible explanation but this MP killing bastard being his dad. But now, he isn't sure - nowadays doesn't really care to find out, hell the bastard could be rotting in a ditch for all he cares. He's never told another soul that - just you. Between you and him there's something deeper than trust.

Now, I know a lot of other headcanons tend to make Levi out to be this super dom sexy sex sex man or whatever, but no. He has no fucking experience whatsoever, until he made this connection with you he absolutely refused to - always thinking about that sunk look in his mother's eyes after dealt with clients and how she'd fake the warmth in them to hide the hurt when Levi would be let back in the room by one of her lady 'work friends' and she'd talk to him so lovingly and sweetly... until she got another knock on the door and he'd have to leave again. That sunken look in her eyes immediately returning and even as a kid he'd want to attack the bastards he knew was the cause of her hurt. And that's how he seen sex for the longest time, didn't fucking help with all the degenerates pigs Underground. He can count on both hands and toes and it still not be enough how how many fucking pigs he's had to gut for staring at Isabel the wrong gross way - a child. Still makes him sick. All these years later. So he's stayed away from it. Fought against it, even up against the absolute worst the Underground had to offer.

However, the longest he'd had bad associations with it, but... with you it's different. You're different, different than a lot of people and that's because of the beyond trust thing. He can be different around you - not the smartass, foul mouthed, titan killing machine people know him as now, he can be... vulnerable, alone with you - and he wants to be. He really does, he loves you afterall and... he wants to give himself to you, completely, because that's how special you are but...

It's stupid, he tells himself - he's a grown man, he's in his late twenties right now, acting and beating himself up in such a childish way over a natural thing. What's wrong with him? But it's you to calm him down, telling him you don't have to do anything and that you're content just the way things are between the two of you now. That you didn't need to go further - ever if he wished, that you love him no matter what. But the thing is... he wants to. There's just this - this mental block he can't seem to get across, no matter how hard he tried. Humanity's strongest? Or whatever it is they're calling him now? Scared of what? He scolds himself. Losing his virginity? The two of you share a bed together to sleep in - this shouldn't - shouldn't - shit. But... you look at him. The two of you sit together on the bed and you look up/down/straight forward at him (depending on your height) and he just... feels at ease, he remembers why he loves and beyond trusts you in the first place, that everything's fine, everything will be fine as he puts a hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip as he gives a steady nod and melts his lips with yours.

That being all said, yeah, Levi’s a virgin. He doesn't really have all that much idea of what he's doing, just goes by his gut and will rely on you to actively tell him what to do, what you want, and how you want it. But Levi - being the prodigy in every new skill he learns, doesn't take long for things to start clicking together in place. Half in hour and your virgin lover you'd think was actually a sex deity in human form - things just... click for him in that odd way it does for him learning new things (weird fucking Ackerman genes in work in real time, actually)

Insane head-game. Think he mouth I'd just good for crass insults and shit jokes? Nope, but honestly that should be expected. After the first few experimental pokes and licks around, enough to get a good idea of how to get you going, will his mouth latch onto and kiss, bite, and suck around the opening to your wet hole then stuck fucking his tongue deep inside and thrusting in all the sweet places/or mark fondle your balls with his mouth before working up your shaft kissing your head before absolutely deepthroating and going to town on you - no gag reflex, shocker. He loves the way you taste and can go on and on and make you come again, and again, and again, and again repeatedly until you loose your mind or voice. Or both.

Want to play with his insecurities? Not maliciously of course, but in universe I think Levi’s thought of as """"""""ugly"""""" and if that's the case you can imagine what types of disgusting shit people has called/said to him. He doesn't mind or care, especially these days as he's older but... call him handsome, or gorgeous and Levi’s a really pale guy, even if he's been above ground a couple years he's still wasn't born a 'sun-walker' so when he blushes it practically dyes his entire face and goes all the way up to his ears. It's cute. Even more cute when he growls, frowns, and scowls as he tries to hide it and distract you by suddenly entering you - which breaks the facade almost immediately as he goes wide eyed and nearly out of breath as he feels you around him. You overwhelm him, he burries himself in your neck not to let himself bottom out. His chest rocks with each breath and he's quick to litter your neck and collar in bites.

Hope you like it here, virgin or not with that Ackerman stamina you're going to be here awhile as he absolutely rocks your world. For hours and hours on end until the both of you are drenched in sweat and the wall has a crack in it from the bed moving.

Very quiet - nearly silent actually except for the occasional gritted curse and heavy breathing. But the longer you go on the more comfortable he actually gets making noise; moans, grunts, and punched out intakes of your name.

He'll fuck you until your legs go numb, wrapped around his hips and encouraging every thrust he gives you and you'll come over and over until you're light headed, bit with him there seems to be no end in sight as he onyx colored hair swoops down and dances with each and every single one of his movements as he looks down almost dazed at you.

Tell him out loud you love him and he'll come on spot.

Silvery grays practically roll back inside of his head when he hits his release and he'll be louder than anything he's been all night before finally his body gives out and collapses on top of you. Wide pleased smile on his face that's for no one inside these entire damn Walls or below ground to see - accept for you. It's only for you. This all is only for you.

After falling unconscious for about forty seconds Levi wakes back up with his normal expected demeanor, this time he just lies there in your arms and presses himself lazily in your neck. When he speaks it's slightly muffled, but it's fine. You ask him if he had a good time - which he tells you is a stupid question and should be obvious, getting a light laugh out of you as you go to comb through his sweaty hair.

He makes it very clear later that this isn't a regular thing, a once maybe a month type thing until... he gets a better understanding with it. "Shit takes time, you know." And you agree, telling him to take all the time he needs which he just lies there for another lingering moments before pushing himself up and pushing his lips to your own.

A bath sounds good now.

Hanji Zoë

Doesn't really have that much experience, WAY too invested in their work to really have had the time. But! That doesn't mean they're not ready and willing to learn - very opposite in fact, honestly. They are absolutely over the MOON when you come out and say you want to fuck them! They get so excited that they rush off into whatever direction of the nearest library to learn and come up with ideas of what to do with you that they sort of leave you there behind in dust 😅 but not to worry, Moblit's there (somewhat very embarrassed to walk in on this exchange) but he promises you that your Squad Leader means well they're just... you know, eccentric.

Books on sexuality and other ""taboo"" stuff of that nature are looked down upon in the higher society of the Walls, but they're not that hard to find if you know where to look, and luckily Hanji knows where a bunch of them are - in fact they know a lot of libraries have them in a 'secret' section - but pulling a few strings and hinting at knowing about a married librarian's affair with a nurse down the street Hanji is able to gather a bunch of books to bring back to Headquarters! They spend all next and the next few days looking over them, reading them cover to cover - only having to explain to Nanaba once who came to visit their office and curiously had picked up one, only to immediately set it back down when seeing the one of the crude sexual diagrams drawn inside before immediately excusing herself.

So, with all this learning and newly attained precious knowledge and a bit of self discovery, turns out Hanji Zoë is a kinky mother fucker. They excitedly jot down all sorts of things that catch their interest, said list turns several pages long that when shown and told about your eyes nearly bug out of your head. Your face turns scorched hot as you tell your lover that maybe best for now just to... narrow it down to three things, then the both of you could talk and work up to it.

And that's where it stays for a couple of weeks, nothing really happens and things go on as normal, until one day when you're at the Superiors table in the Mess Hall as Erwin draws on and on about Banquet plans - AKA 'entertaining' and kissing ass to the nobles and the Brass to beg for funding for the next expedition outside Wall Maria - to you, Levi, Nanaba, and Mike, until suddenly Hanji comes springing down the hall and grabs your arm and pulls you completely off the bench seat to where you fall on your ass.

"Sorry-important-titan-research-matters-need-to-borrow-(Name)-bye!" And they drag you off, your ass still on the floor. Leaving everyone else at that table speechless.

You're about to scold your lover the moment you get inside the door, now at your feet, and your just about to until Hanji pushes you back against the wood in a feverish kiss that leaves you breathless. When they pull away they have a wide shit eating grin on their face. Okay. You're much calmer now. You let yourself be dragged across the small office and shoved onto the bed tucked in the corner - Hanji gives you a wink and excitedly goes for a couple boxes at their desk, handing them to you for you to open.

Rope. A... harness looking thing that looks like... underwear? With an odd hoop in the middle. And... a large phallic shaped object that makes your eyes go shot wide. Okay, you tell yourself. This must be their three.

"Two actually," They correct you without you even having to say it out loud. "-this is three." Without much effort they start pulling off their uniform to reveal the pretty white laced lingerie they have on that makes you go entirely speechless. They push their glasses up further on their nose with a head tilt. "You like?" You nod without even feeling yourself do so. "Good." You... didn't know to whether be scared or aroused at that glint in their eyes.

You're naked and tied up from post to post with the red velvety rope as your lover straddles you and map out every part of your body with their hands, committing each bump, scar, and curve to memory. Hanji looks at you with this inquisitive look in their eyes - the same look they get during one of their experiments but yet, it's almost different than that, or is it? They touch you and look back up to your face for a reaction, they like watching you squirm but not be able to do anything with your limbs tied and can only whimper and moan for them, they like that very much actually. You can't touch them either, as they straddle you your hips do buck into them - getting a gasp out of them but with their hands suddenly around your neck they scold you with a pointed wagging finger. "Bad, naughty."

Their hips starts grounding into you as they begin touching themselves with only you helpless to watch their hand disappear down lace panties and start working themselves over, making sure to make plenty of noises you can hear until suddenly their slick hand is shoved into your mouth and you're ordered to suck, which you do until they're roughly yanked out be replaced but their breathless kiss instead - tasting their own arousal off you. Then they get an idea.

With a wide smile off their face do they maneuver around the bed to where they're above you and moves the panties aside for you to eat at them as they sit on your face. They hum and moan out all sorts of praises as they let you know how good of a job your doing eating out their pussy like it was your last meal, and since Hanji wants to be the dominant party here, they're not afraid to order you around a bit - reminding you that they are your Squad Leader and you should address them as so. So get ready to add "Yes, Squad Leader," to each and every you say tonight :)

For being so good, they give you a reward: while you continue to eat them out, they'll bend slightly over, spread you legs slightly apart to comfortly position themselves to eat out your hole/or gag around your cock, all nice and good for their beloved favorite squad member until you both come at least a couple times each, and if you're to type to get overstimulated, they'll reassure how well you're doing and tell you in the softest voice they can: "One more, just one more." until you come again.

Once you're done with that and Hanji wobbles off the bed, legs shaking, as they go to gather the harness and dick shaped object off the floor. They slip off the lingerie panties and stuff them in your mouth with a; "Hold these, please." As your lover then boucy legs each of their legs through the leg-holes and carefully latches each strap - only pausing when they look over and realized they forgot the dick. Oopsie. Fix that.

With it finally on they kneel back on top the bed, untying yours legs and arms and rubbing each appendage carefully, muttering to ask if you're okay in your ear - you nod. Now, it doesn't matter to Hanji how big or small you are. You are going on their lap - no matter how maybe ridiculous you maybe might look, you are straddled their hips at your sex is rubbed against their fake dick. But of course, you're not getting it first without begging for it, or beg for it enough for your lover's liking.

When it's in and your hips are encouraged by Hanji's hands at your hips to start bouncing on it, at your own pace at the start, until a sudden slap to your ass encourages you go faster and you make a noise - muffled by the panties still in your mouth - to your lover's shit eating grinned delight as they start thrusting their hips to meet the back or your thighs in wet snaps.

Hanji absolutely loves having their chest marked up, after ripping the underwear from out of your mouth they'll hold your head to bite at their breasts that gets them to toss their head back in a satisfied hum.

Eventually, will push you to your back and start pounding away at you in their own pace, committing every sound you make to memory and drinking in every call of their name like they were on the brink of dehydration and bit by bit more they push you to the absolute edge - until you nearly scream out your climax, for it to be quickly smoothed by their lips and a tight fist wadded in your hair.

Both of you are jelly boned by the time your finished, completely naked now up in each other's arms and honestly half asleep. That is until you chuckle, nuzzling your face in the crook of your love's neck. "I think that might've been just a tad more than three things," you tell them, which they shrug. "What can I say? I got creative in the moment, you know - there's a ton of things in those books! Maybe some stuff you'll like-" You wave it off with a yawn.

"Maybe later. Nap time now," You can't help the amused smile. "-Squad Leader."

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

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xjaylyn · 3 months

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*EDITED* PART 1 - Bad Boys: Second Chances

Pairing: Armando x Black! OC (Rya)

Warnings: blood, graphic, guns, death, mature, language (use of the n word), and some other stuff I probably forgot about sorry

Summary: Its been two years since Captain Conrad was framed. Another mission brings the team back together and new relationships are formed. It's said everyone deserves second chances and room to grow. So maybe this is that second chance.

…3 DAYS EARLIER…

"Pl-please-please…i-i-i promise I'll fix it! I'll fix it ju-just please."

The helpless man begged on his knees in the center of the church foyer. The dim light shone through the broken painted glass, grazing the man's bruised and beaten face. Begging for mercy to the devil himself.

"Just give me a day I'll fix it I promise…please."

A loud bang echoed through the foyer, causing the people watching to flinch. Said devil looked down on the unfortunate man, shaking his head.

"A DAY-I fucking-" another loud bang could be heard followed by the sounds of glass shattering as they hit the floor.

"Look at me-" grabbing the helpless man by his neck. "I gave you a fucking month to do this one simple job and you fuck it up," watching the drool spill from the man's mouth and land on his suit jacket. Taking a deep sigh, quickly dropping the man to his knees, listening to him struggle to catch his breath. Slowly walking back to the podium where a selection of items laid.

The faint sound of metal being picked up caused the helpless man to panic.

"N-no-no-no PLEASE PLEASE LORD HAVE MERCY ON ME PLE-" the helpless man's body dropped to the floor. His blood splattered everywhere, forming a thick puddle beneath him.

"Clean it up," watching as no one moved to the request. Irritation filled the man's veins.

"CLEAN THE FUCKING MESS UP," running a hand through his long hair in frustration.

"And not just the body…fix what the fuck he couldn't…NOW."

--------------------------------------------------------

…MIAMI…PRESENT DAY, 2026…

"Happy birthday to you."

The soft giggles of a baby could be heard in the singing crowd. The Stevie Wonder version of the birthday song played lightly in the background. Megan, Marcus's daughter, walked into the dim dining room where the crowd was with a gleaming smile on her face. Gently, sitting the birthday cake with the big number 1 on it in front of the small family sitting at the table. Mike holding the chubby baby girl in his lap and Christine, Mike's wife, next to them recording.

"Baby girl, don't get your baby drool all on the cake. Uncle Marcus wants to enjoy a slice or two, okay."

"Marcus, you're not getting no cake. Back up," Mike looked up at his best friend cooing at the little baby staring down at the cake, causing the man to stop smiling.

"Mike, it's a special occasion. I can't just not eat the cake. That's rude, ain't that right, baby girl?"

Both men watched as the little girl squeezed her little hands and jumped towards the cake. Big little eyes targeting the pink frosting.

"Woah, calm down girl," Mike stood up, wiping the frosting on her chubby cheeks. "Acting like your uncle when he sees Skittles."

Almost two years had passed since the two were on a mission to clear Conrad's name. Not long after its success, things went back to normal. Christine fell pregnant and gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Amara Marie Lowrey. Mike was ecstatic to become a father. Feeling blessed to have been given the opportunity to raise his child. Something he had missed with his first son, Armando, whom he had not heard from or had contact with since his farewell when he got on the boat.

"You wish he was here, huh?"

So deep in his thoughts, he didn't notice everyone had left and Christine took their daughter out of his arms. It was only him and Marcus in the dining room. "What?"

"You do that every time you think about him. You know he can take care of himself…hell, he has better survival skills than us, making fires and shit," patting the taller man's shoulder.

Shaking his head, he sat back down in his chair. "I know, but it's been 2 years and nothing. As fucked up as it sounds, at least I knew where he was when he was in jail."

Sighing, Mike looked out the window and watched as everyone was outside laughing. His wife holding his precious daughter with the biggest smiles on their faces. Love was seen all over. He couldn't help but wish to experience that with his son or at least have his son experience what it's like to be around the people you love to celebrate you.

The sudden sound of a cell phone going off disturbed the silence between the two partners. Quickly looking at the phone and seeing that it was Rita, their Captain, calling. Knowing it must be urgent because she knows today is his daughter's birthday and strictly a family day, he answered the phone.

Marcus watched as his partner's face scrunched up in confusion. "Woah, slow down, what happened…yeah…yeah…okay, we'll be there, bye."

"We gotta go," grabbing his keys and heading to the back to inform the family of their dismissal. Marcus followed behind, "Yeah, I got that before you hung up. What happened?"

"I don't know. Rita just said she needs us in the office now. Something about a murder," walking back towards the front to head to the car.

"But Mike, hold on, let me get my slice of cake," Marcus says turning towards the kitchen.

"Nigg-" stopping in his tracks to look back at the man.

"Come onnn. it'll be gone before we get back!" Marcus pleads with his eyes wide.

Mike rolls his eyes and grabs the man. "Man, carry yo grown ass to this car…too damn grown to be acting like a little-ass kid over some cake."

"Aye, now I'm a grown-ass man, Mike. Don't talk like I'm not one. I just wanted a piece of cake, okay? That a crime?"

"Marcus, let's go."

Whining before getting into the car. "Fine, damn."

a/n: Sorry y'all, I suck at descriptions. But yayyy, I decided to write a Bad Boys fic for the first time. Just please excuse the poor writing, I did not edit AT ALL, and it's been a minute since I wrote anything (literally back when Wattpad had no ads😭). So, we're just a lot rusty. I hope y'all enjoy because I have no direction in which this is going; we just gon go wherever the wind takes us. Feel free to comment! I love feedback, and active readers make the experience fun! And to my silent readers, hey pookies🫶🏼.

#armando aretas #armando aretas x reader #armando aretas x black reader #armando imagine #armando x reader #armando x black!reader #bad boys #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life #marcus burnett #mike lowrey #jacob scipio #will smith #martin lawrence #bad boys second chances

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msmk11 · 3 months

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My T**s Ruin the Outfit

Poly!Marauders x non-binary!reader (short fic)

CW: Gender dysphoria; angst: fluff; hurt/comfort

Summary: Your boyfriends find you having a melt down about clothes. But really, it’s not about clothes at all.

Author’s Note: I’m not sure how this idea came to mind, but once I thought it, I had to write it. Since I go by she/they the struggle to find gender affirming clothes is really hard sometimes 😭 especially with tits. So ig this is really self-insert heavy, but I also hopes it brings comfort to those who feel similarly.

Remus was less than pleased to find you sprawled out on the bed, face down in the pillows.

“Dove, what are you doing?” he sighed, “You know we need to leave in ten minutes.”

“I’m not going,” you mumbled.

Remus assumed today of all days was when you decided to be a brat, and he was not going to have it. Tonight was supposed to be the first time in months that your entire friend group was going to be able to get together. Between Mary and Lily, Marlene and Dorcas, Regulus and Barty, and you four, it was nearly impossible to make plans. But, by some miracle, tonight was the night, and Remus was not about to miss out because of your attitude.

“Dove,” Remus said with a low, warning tone, “I’m not gonna say it again.”

You only grumbled out another no, and Remus felt his patience wearing thin. Just as he was about to force you up and moving, James wondered into the room, looking particularly delectable in one of his faded rugby shirts that hugged his biceps, and blue jeans.

Though James was occasionally oblivious, he immediately noticed Remus’ tense jaw and your distressed body language.

“What’s going on here?” James asked carefully.

“Dovey here insists that they’re no longer going with us,” Remus said gruffly.

James looked at Remus confused. Out of everyone, you had been the most excited for this night. While you loved your boys, you also dearly missed your best friends- Lily, Mary, Marlene, and Dorcas. You had been chattering excitedly for days about all that you four needed to catch up on- old gossip, haircut advice, and some of your shared favorite musicians.

Though Remus’ temper sometimes prevented him from seeing it, James’ cool demeanor allowed him to quickly realize that something was obviously wrong. James gently sat down on the bed beside you and started to rub small, soothing circles on your back.

“Angel,” he asked quietly, “why don’t you want to go anymore? You’ve been looking forward to it for days.”

You didn’t respond verbally, but James noticed a slight shaking in your shoulders. Ever so carefully, James grabbed your hips and shifted you onto your side to face him. Before you could hide away again, James noticed your red, teary eyes.

“Angel,” he cooed sadly.

Remus looked to James with a perplexed expression and mouthed, “what is it?”

“They’re crying,” James mouthed quietly.

All of the tension left Remus quickly and was replaced by worry. He immediately felt guilty for assuming the worst and shuffled over to the bed, assuming a seat on your other side. While rubbing small circles on your hip Remus asked, “Can you sit up for us dove and tell us what’s wrong?”

You begrudgingly obliged, though you remained attached to James as you did so.

“Guys? Are you ready? We need to be leaving no-“

Sirius stood in the doorway, slack-jawed, “DOLLY? What’s wrong?” He immediately rushed to crouch at your feet beside the bed.

All three pairs of eyes looked at you with so much care, each of them comforting you with gentle pets and rubs.

“I- I” you blubbered, “I have nothing to wear.”

That was the last thing any of them expected you to say because 1) you didn’t usually put so much care into your outfits 2) even if you did you didn’t usually get emotional over it and 3) you had more than plenty of clothes to wear- not just of your own but of your three boyfriends’.

“Angel, you have tons of clothes in the closet to choose from. And ours too,” James said gently.

“And if you’re having trouble picking something, doll, you know I can help you pick something out,” Sirius added

This only made you start to cry harder and your three boyfriends shared looks of mixed concern and confusion.

“You just- you don’t understand,” you said through hiccups.

“Then help us to, dove,” Remus told you, “we can’t help if you don’t talk to us.”

You tried to take a few deep breaths, so that you could actually express what you were feeling, “It’s just. None of my clothes fit right on me. At least, not the way I want them too. My tits just, ruin the outfit.”

Realization passed through all of them then. This wasn’t about clothes at all- not really, at least. Almost a year ago, you had come out to your boyfriends as nonbinary. They, of course, were so loving and supportive and tried to help you feel comfortable in your body in any way possible. You’d gotten a binder, bought some new clothes, and changed your hair, but when gender dysphoria hit, there was not much they could do to comfort you.

“Oh sweetheart,” Sirius said with a sigh, “I’m sorry. Did you try your binder?”

You shook your head with a frown, “no. But I don’t wanna wear it. It hurts after awhile.”

James pulled you more tightly into his side and kissesdyour head, “what can we do, angel?”

You only shrugged your shoulders and sighed.

“Why don’t you let Sirius and I choose something for you dove, while Jamie cuddles you. That sound good?” Remus asked you kindly.

“Okay.”

Sirius and Remus got up and disappeared into your shared closet. James, in the mean time, pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He peppered kisses across your face and whispered sweet nothings into your ear, which made you giggle in spite of yourself. After a few minutes, Remus and Sirius emerged, clothes in hand.

“Alright doll, why don’t you try this on?”

Sirius handed you one of your favorite sports bras and the biggest of Remus’ sweaters- in your favorite color too. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t thought to try a sports bra earlier- the next best thing to a binder- but you supposed your emotions prevented you from clear thinking. You stayed in James’ lap while you quickly peeled off the t-shirt you were wearing and wrestled on the sports bra. While it didn’t entirely hide your tits, it certainly flattened your chest a little. Paired with Remus’ sweater, that was much baggier on you, your tits almost disappeared. As you looked down at your fairly flat chest you felt much more at ease. You shuffled over to the mirror and look at your appearance. Though the gender dysphoria was not entirely gone, you felt a lot better than before. And with your supportive, loving boyfriends by your side all night, you knew everything would be alright.

#marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #james potter x reader #james potter x you #the maruaders #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #remus lupin x you #poly!marauders x reader #polyamory #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders angst #hurt/comfort #hp fandom #james potter x Sirius black x Remus Lupin

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sludge-saturday · 4 months

Text

pencil and charcoal

you've been riding with the van der linde gang for a few months now, pulling your weight and helping out when you can. you've earned the trust of nearly everyone there with your hard work and are starting to capture the interest of a certain someone...

pairing: arthur morgan x gn!artist!reader

summary: you show arthur your artwork by the fire. how will he react when he sees himself amongst your drawings?

tags: fluff, arthur has low self-esteem, high honor arthur

warnings: very brief mention of alcohol consumption

word count: 1,141

a/n: i can't tell if my writing style is too corny or not so feedback is encouraged. :)

☆ the trotting of your horses' hooves served as gentle ambience as you and arthur watched the van der linde camp come into view. an involuntary feeling of relief washed over you, knowing that you were safe here. the two of you were just arriving from a particularly difficult bounty hunt, but your combined skills proved to be efficient. "a job well done," as arthur had told you.

☆ you both approach the camp and hop off of your horses, hitching them to an available post. arthur gives boadicea a gentle, appreciative pat on the neck. "i'm gonna go tell dutch how much we made." he says, walking toward where the gang leader is standing. dutch is next to one of the posts holding up his tent and a fire had been made not too far away by some of the other gang members. karen, tilly, charles, javier, and lenny all sat around the flame, a couple with bottles in their hands.

☆ you wanted to stop at your tent for your sketchbook before heading over to sit with them. now would be a perfect time to keep practicing, you thought to yourself. after making the short trip to where your belongings were, you swiped the leather-bound book and the rest of your supplies off of your cot. as you walk towards the fire you glance at everyone sitting around it. no one had left yet, but another person had joined: arthur.

☆ scanning for a place to sit, you decide on an open spot next to the gunslinger. you had to admit, you've grown fond of arthur's presence since you first started traveling with the gang. it was something about his get-it-done attitude, his undying loyalty to those he cares about, and, of course, his rugged handsomeness. you kept your affection for him a secret, though, afraid of what might happen if anyone ever found out. you drew one of your knees up to your chest, propping your sketchbook up on your thigh in an attempt to dispel the thought.

☆ arthur's gaze couldn't help but wander to what you were doing beside him. as you opened your sketchbook, flipping through the pages to find where you last left off, arthur's eyes were able to steal a few glances at what was inside. from what he able to see, there were sketched pictures of people he could have sworn he recognized. was that... dutch? and sean? and mary beth? arthur gestured to the book in your hands and spoke in a hushed tone, as if afraid someone else would hear what he had to say. "you draw too?"

☆ you looked up at arthur with a smile already on your face. "it's been one of my passions since i was a child. i practically clung to my pencils when i fell on hard times." your eyes sparkled as you spoke to him, and you could have sworn you saw the same kind of shimmer in his eyes as he listened. "can i..." he started, "can i see 'em?" arthur had never met anyone else that shared his love of drawing and thought he never would, he had made peace with that. but this new discovery, this moment he was now sharing with you, it made him feel more alive and more connected to someone than he felt in a while.

☆ a flush threatened to creep onto your cheeks as you process arthur's request. you can't remember the last time someone asked to actually see what you were making. anxiety bubbled in your stomach as your mind raced through everything that could happen if you agreed. but, when you looked at arthur, his features were graced with a subtle glow, an expression of wonder and pure curiosity. how could you refuse?

☆ "of course." you gave him a sweet smile. "should i start from the beginning?" your hand prepares to move all of the pages on the left back to the right, but you look at arthur for approval anyway. "sure." he answered, nodding his head.

☆ and so you do. you show him everything, from your finished portraits of the gang members to sketches of your horse to quick scribbles of plants and animals you spot on your adventures. and arthur found it all so breathtaking. your art style, the way you chose to characterize your figures, your ability to make photo-realistic images from just pencil and charcoal, he never knew you had this in you.

☆ he watched as you flipped through the pages, admiring your work and pointing out ones he particularly liked. the person drawn on the last page had a dark cowboy hat on with rope tied around the base. he had a dark kerchief draped around his neck and a stubbly face. "recognize him?" you smooth your hand over the paper, remembering the unforgettable process that was drawing arthur for the first time. "this is one of my favorites." smiling at the page, you turn to look at his reaction.

☆ arthur was utterly dumbfounded. he couldn't believe what he was looking at. someone, especially someone like you, had deemed him worthy enough of being a muse for artwork. he thought he was so... ugly. he thought everyone found him that way. at a loss for words, the man felt tears prick his eyes. he didn't know why he was getting so emotional! he couldn't cry in front of anyone, so he cleared his throat and searched for what to say. "is that me?"

☆ you noticed that arthur's eyes looked glossier and that his expression shifted. you couldn't gauge how he was feeling from the look on his face, so you looked back down at the drawing. "it is," you said, fiddling with the corner of the book. "you are a joy to create." your smile was genuine, the apple of your cheeks shining in the firelight as you turned your head to face arthur again. his expression was still unreadable, his gaze tilted down towards his lap. after a few seconds of silence, arthur speaks softly. "ya really mean that?"

☆ arthur's eyes were still glassy, but softer this time around. he looked like the answer to his question would make or break him. he looked... vulnerable. even you knew that this was not a disposition you would typically, if ever, expect of him. you were careful with your response, knowing that you held the very livelihood of arthur morgan in your hands. "i do."

☆those two simple words sent a small swarm of butterflies through his gut. for him, nothing would be able to compare to the way you just made him feel. for him, this moment would be occupying his mind for longer than he cared to admit. for him, this gesture was just another piece of the stunning mosaic created in your image. after this, there's no more room for doubt. he's smitten.

#rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 oneshot #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan oneshot #arthur morgan x reader #artist!reader #enjoy :)

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repulsiveliquidation · 11 months

Text

“I don’t need you.”

“You don’t, but we do.”

Leah Williamson x Georgia Stanway x Reader

2.8k, I went overboard lol but this was fun to write. Enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of blood and knives. Euros 2022 Final where you’re hurt and the two of them struggle to keep you alive. It gets dark so read at your own risk!

Lionesses v. Germany, Euro 2022 Final. The changing room is tense, all the girls quiet and getting into game mode. You’re in your cubby, listening to a playlist Georgia insisted would get you into the right headspace before a game. Leah sits across from you, leg bouncing and face in a deep frown. Georgia is messing about with Alessia, giggling about some video they saw on Instagram. Everyone has their own way of getting into their headspaces and you find yourself making eye contact with the best captain in the world. Your headphones come off and you walk up to her, eyes softening when you see the fear in her eyes that she so desperately tries to get rid of.

“Come with me for a minute.” You tell her, reaching for her arm.

“I can’t, the game starts in 20 minutes!” Leah loudly whispers but follows you, being dragged into the showers for a little chat.

Georgia had been watching this interaction, excusing herself and following behind Leah quietly. She knew that Leah would be stressed and knew that only you could calm her. She was met with a Leah that was almost in tears and you cradling her head against your chest in the furthest shower stall there was. She sighed softly, heart breaking for Leah. She quietly came towards you, hands wrapping around you both with kisses to both of your foreheads.

“How we doing, Lee?” Georgia asks quietly, hand slowly moving lower to rub her back as you kissed Leah softly and pushed her baby hairs out of her face.

“I feel like my hearts gonna give out. Fuck I can’t catch my breath. What if we lose? What if we just fucking throw this game away and fuck up and it’s all my fault? I really don’t know what Sarina was thinking, picking me as captain. Someone else deserves this arm band, I might just-“

She was cut off by half the team in the showers looking at her and hearing her ramble. She was so in her head that she didn’t notice that Georgia had taken your spot and you went and called the rest of the girls still in the changing rooms into the shower to comfort their captain. Tears stained her cheeks and Georgia did her best to wipe them away. You were beside her again, holding her hand and rubbing her forearm.

“No one would have been able to bring us this far, Lee. Everyone on this team knows you’re the only one who deserves to wear that arm band.” Lucy spoke up, all the girls nodding in agreement.

“You’re the best part of all of us, Leah. Come on, we’ve got a trophy to win alright? Save some of those tears for after will ya? Don’t waste them!” Ella yelled, all the girls cheering their captain on as she finally had a smile on her face. It was the most beautiful smile both you and Georgia had ever seen and you wanted to keep it on her face for as long as possible.

Kick-off

The game was going alright. Germany had maintained good defense over the first half, nearly scoring but Mary Earps was a force to be reckoned with. The second half saw Tooney thrust the Lionesses into the lead with a beautiful chip over the keeper. Germany doubled down and equalized ten minutes after, the wear and tear of the tournament finally showing as the Lionesses let that one slip. Of course, it had to be Chloe Kelly who sent in the winning goal, doing a well-earned shirtless celebration as the final whistle was blown two minutes later. You all piled on top of her, celebrations rampant as the Wembley stadium erupted with the same shouts of celebrations.

You didn’t see him coming. You didn’t see the glint of a 4-inch blade drawn from his back pocket. Security too busy holding out other fans from spilling onto the pitch. He made a beeline for you, eyes dark and angry. He grabbed you by the shoulder and before you knew it, the knife stabbed into the right side of your abdomen. The sheer shock of it all sent you to the ground hunched over, hand pressed to your side as he pulled the knife out and disappeared into the crowd.

Leah notices first. Her eyes looked all over for you till she heard yells from the crowd of your name. A little puddle of red alarmed her as she suddenly saw you laying on the grass in a pool of your own blood.

“Y/N!” she yelled. Crouching down beside you, holding your wound. “FUCKING CALL THE MEDICS!” was what registered next. Georgia suddenly appeared beside you; hand pressed over Leah’s as they both tried to stop the bleeding. The crowd was so silent you could hear a straw drop.

“You’re going to be okay, darling. I need you to stay awake for me, sweet. Keep looking at me baby, shh shh it’s okay. We’re getting you help.” Georgia spoke but she sounded so far away. Your eyes closed for a second before Leah slapped your face gently and your eyes opened again. She was crying, Georgia was too. “Stay with me, love. I love you so much,” was the last thing you heard before you couldn’t fight the urge to sleep any longer.

That beeping noise was immensely irritating. Beep, beep, beep. Why were there so many tubes and shit tangled around me? It’s a little chilly in here, would it kill you to turn the heat on? I mean seriously, these tubes are a nightmare. Your thoughts are interrupted by a pair of blue eyes that would make anyone look twice. Leah’s eyes. You could pick them out in a crowd. So blue and so full of emotion you could read her like an open book. What was she doing here?

“Y/N/N, welcome back my darling.” Leah says, her voice still distant but clear.

“She’s awake? Don’t lie to me Leah, it’s not funny.” A second voice enters the room. It’s familiar too, accent thick with worry. Georgia’s dark brown eyes show themselves as they both hover over you. It’s nice, they’re doing you a favor by blocking out those pesky bright lights.

There are suddenly more people in the room than you’d like, poking and prodding at you. Hands that you do not want touching you thankfully do their work fast and efficiently. They switch out your oxygen mask for tubes and give you another pillow and your sad hospital lunch. They’ve left the room in 20 minutes, the two girls whom you want near you finally able to settle on either side of your bed away from prying eyes.

“You scared us half to death, Y/N.” Leah says with a sad voice you never want her to use again. Tears well up in Georgia’s eyes and they both hold your hand that is resting on your stomach.

“What happened? I-I can’t remember it that well, it’s all so hazy.” You say with a sore throat. Georgia is quick to give you some water, holding the straw for you to sip. You drink for a while, thankful for the cold liquid soothing your parched throat.

Leah’s eyes are uncertain, doubtful if she wants to make you relive yesterday morning. The stabbing had sent you into a deep sleep, thankfully only for a day. The ambulance that brought you here was at the pitch within two minutes of the call to 999. The two girls never left your side, Georgia following you into the ambulance as Leah was driven right behind the ambulance by Alessia and the rest of the girls. The win was forgotten, every single one of them only had you on their minds. Leah was a mess in the car, shaking like a leaf as Alessia sped after the ambulance. Tooney and Lucy held her, keeping her calm and reassuring her that you’d be alright. She believed them, telling herself over and over on the quick ride to the hospital that you’d be okay.

Georgia kept it together in the ambulance, one of the loves of her life holding on as much as she could. It was so hard to look at you in the stretcher, beautiful face pale and sickly. Her hands and shirt were covered in your blood, the paramedics managing to stuff your wound with gauze and the bleeding was controlled. She knew you’d be okay, her heart hoping Leah knew that too. She held onto your hand tightly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you fell in and out of consciousness. She recognized the white Mercedes weaving through traffic, hazards on and following the speeding ambulance. She told you that the girls were right behind us and that Leah was right there with them. She told you to hold on, she told you they didn’t know if they’d be able to live without you. You heard her, wanting so much to hold her and tell her that you loved her and that you would be okay but, everything hurt and you were too numb to move.

The doctors worked swiftly on your wounds, the knife barely missing your diaphragm and nicking your large intestine. You had lost too much blood and flatlined once, the doctors quick to pounce on your chest and resuscitate you. You were fighting, you knew people relied on you too much for you to give in. The five-hour surgery was a success and soon you were being wheeled into a private room as the doctors told the entire team occupying the waiting room the relieving news. There wasn’t a dry face anywhere, tears of joys pouring out at the news of you making it through the hardest part of this long journey. Leah and Georgia rushed to the room they now knew you were in, the rest of the girls hanging back knowing you only needed them.

The sight of all those annoying tubes broke their hearts. You looked so tired and used, fresh tears falling down their faces. Both girls silently moved to one side each, hands reaching for your cold ones as you slept peacefully. Soon the repetitive beeps of the machines lulled them to sleep, thankful that you were alive and here with them.

Lucy walked in with Alessia and Kiera. They smiled softly at the sight of the three of you sleeping. They gently woke Leah and Georgia, having brought food and a change of clothes for them. The doctors updated them on your condition, Kiera shooting a quick text to the group chat to ease their worries. Leah shot up, eyes red with fatigue and a stiff neck. She reached for Kiera, hugging her tight and thanking her for the food and clothes. Alessia gently helped Georgia wake up, guiding both of them to the table in your room to have some food. They found it hard to swallow anything but tried, knowing they needed to. Alessia and Lucy watched over you as they ate, Less softly brushing your hair out of your face as Lucy rubbed your forearm softly.

Kiera had to force the pair out of the room to change, dragging them away to the showers to force them to take one, their hands still slightly caked with your blood. They showered together, helping one another to clean up which made them feel better to have familiar hands do the work. They couldn’t do it for themselves but they’d be damned if they didn’t take care of the other before themselves. Leah held Georgia’s face in her hands and Georgia stared at her as her hands held her wrists, gaze holding the same tear-filled eyes she had despite standing under the rain shower. They kissed hard, kisses full of too many emotions for them to express any other way. “She’ll be okay, Gee. She’s a fighter, she is.” Leah said softly, willing her heart to believe her own words. Georgia could only nod, muttering a soft “I know,” before leaning in to kiss Leah again. They held each other under the warm water, Kiera having left to give them both a minute.

They walk back into your room looking fresher than before. Hair both damp and wearing clean clothes. They both needed that shower and intimate time with each other, it soothed worries that they did not know how to voice; so glad that their relationship was strong and deep enough that they did not need to use words to express their feelings. “Any changes?” Georgia asks, moving to the couch to snuggle with Alessia as Leah returned to your side. “No Gee, she’s still asleep.” Lucy told her, hand lacing into Leah’s as they both sat with you. Kiera walked in 10 minutes later with steaming cups of coffee and a few more Lionesses. They all hung around, speaking to each other and taking turns watching you. You made noises a few times, shifting in your deep drug-induced sleep which made Leah and Georgia’s hearts leap out of their chests as you merely went back under.

“I’m sorry I scared you girls.” You say after listening to Leah and Georgia fill you in. “I’m okay now, you two look exhausted.”

“Don’t be sorry darling, nothing compared to the day you’ve had, love. They say you can go home tomorrow now that you’re awake, hm?” Leah tells you, eyes happier than you’ve seen in the past two days. Georgia begins to open up your lunch, gently pushing the table over to you to eat. “The girls went over to the house and set up the guest room for us. That way you don’t need to worry about the stairs. Lotte’s got Marlo too so he isn’t a bother for a bit. I think Less and Tooney drove my car over too so we can go home tomorrow, how’s that sound?” Georgia tells you, grimacing at the sickly-looking hospital food.

“Better than that looks, that’s for sure.” You quip, a look of disgust on your face.

This makes Leah laugh, leaning forward and kissing your forehead then whispering “There’s my girl.”

The first week back home was unlike anything you have experienced before. The pain was unbearable and the nightmares were something you didn’t wish on your worst enemy. You couldn’t remember your attackers face, but the news refreshed your memory when he was caught just four days after the attack. Cameras from the stadium managed to pick him up leaving the stadium after and they found his car abandoned before he was arrested and convicted. The three of you felt relief wash over you, knowing he was gone from your lives for a long time. You naively thought the nightmares would stop since you were really just worrying about him finding you but they somehow got worse. Leah and Georgia could barely keep you asleep for an hour before you had another one, shaking and sweating with shouts of their names. It frustrated you and broke their hearts into a billion pieces each. Both of them wanted to take your pain away and it physically hurt them to see you suffering.

One night you had another nightmare but somehow didn’t stir the two girls sleeping on either side of you. You carefully crawled out of bed, grabbing a fluffy blanket around your shoulders and walking out to the living room. You sat on the couch, mind racing faster than you liked. You began to rock back and forth, knees pulled to your chest. You couldn’t catch your breath, head spinning as the memories flash before your eyes.

Strong arms suddenly wrap around you, another pair grabbing your crying face. “Y/N, look at me!” Leah said loudly. A wave of anger came over you, pushing both of them away and standing; hot, frustrated tears flowing down your cheeks. “Leave me alone! Why the fuck are you always meddling? I don’t need you to coddle me! I am capable of taking care of myself! I’m not fucking helpless like you think! Just because you don’t have pain or just because you can fucking sleep doesn’t mean you need to pretend to want to help me! I DON’T NEED YOU!” you yell, voice hoarse by the fourth statement you make. You’ve fallen to your knees, Georgia catching you just in time before you crumple to the ground. They both hold you, your frustration let out in huge waves. You cried for half an hour, hearing both of them repeating the same thought you had in the operating room that kept you fighting “You may think you don’t need us baby but we do. We were both a mess when you got hurt, I don’t think either of us would have survived if it wasn’t for you. You hold us together baby, we love you to bits for it, you’re our special girl.”

It made you cry more, their words sinking into your head. You were wrong, you did need them. You needed them more than ever and they weren’t going anywhere.

#woso soccer #woso imagine #lionesses #leahwilliamson x reader #georgia stanway x reader #leah williamson #georgia stanway #georgia stanway imagine #leah williamson imagine #euros2022 #angst #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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anyarose011 · 4 months

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One More Reason to Control Myself {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: Angus Tully knows she's hiding something. Why else would she lie about where she was the morning of Christmas Eve?

Part 5 of ?? (Masterlist)

Warnings: Swearing, period typical sexism, and mention of exploitation of a minor.

We get an Angus POV chapter, motherfuckaas!! I had fun writing from his perspective while also giving him a little more backstory as well. Also, considering I want to try and eliminate the Y/N effect, anytime there's a she or her (italicized) it's you, dear reader. Shoutout to me forgetting there was a character named Danny in the movie, so I have to cover my ass for naming the creep "Daniel". Also, part 2 of an Angus/Reader coded song (what do you mean it breaks my heart? No it doesn't!)

Word Count: 7.1k

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“So, why’d you miss supper last night, and why is little miss Jane Bennet missing breakfast now too?”

That was what Mary asked Angus and Paul Hunham at Christmas Eve breakfast. Mr. Hunham glanced around, trying not to show his nerves, but failed. “Oh, we went into town on some uh, school-related business. As for my daughter…I do not know; she wasn’t there when I woke up, have you seen her, Angus?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

Mary hummed. The door opened, and in came Danny, the janitor who, even in the below freezing temperatures of winter, somehow almost had a smile on his face. Carrying in a mop and bucket, he greeted. “Good morning, everybody.”

“Good morning,” Mary pointed to the kitchen. “you can go on in and fix yourself a plate.”

He nodded. “I just saw something funny. I walked into the gym, and someone had vomited in there.”

Angus stilled as he drank his orange juice. Mary looked at him and Mr. Hunham, and the two of them looked at each other.

“You don’t say,” it was Paul who spoke first. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Angus answered loosely.

“No, uh, I’ll look into that right away. Thank you.”

Mary raised one of her brows. “I see how it is.”

Danny shook his head, walked over to Angus, and placed the bucket and mop by him before walking away. “You’re out your mind.”

Angus sighed, fiddling with the eggs on his plate. It had been a week of a frozen hell for him (perhaps not so bad…he made a friend. A friend who, despite there being billions of nerves in the body, she still managed to get on every single one of them; yet, he knows he does the same to her). Still, as Christmas Eve was supposed to be a time of excitement for the holidays, Angus Tully felt nothing of the sort.

He had no idea if it was because he was getting older, or because his father wouldn’t be there after Christmas mass, carrying him out of the car when he pretended to fall asleep.

Maybe it’s because he didn’t live in the same house anymore where the Christmases he used to love took place…

Fortunately, his moments of wintertime dread were gone once the doubles doors from the outside were opened. He watched as Mr. Hunham’s daughter entered, pulling off her gloves and unwrapping the scarf that was brought up over her hair and around her neck.

“And where were you?” Mary was the first to interrogate, sitting beside Angus, still smoking her cigarette.

She smiled, approaching the table. “Out.”

“Out where?” Her father then questioned.

Chuckling, the girl pulled out a chair by her father and sat down, taking an orange of the fruit basket, peeling it. “Just on a walk. I gotta clear my head from you people sometimes.”

Mr. Hunham shook his head, not necessarily shocked by her response, but still bewildered. “Clear your-? How long were you out?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I woke up around seven-thirty, read for a bit, then went out. So…maybe eight? Not for long, that’s for sure.”

Angus knew she was lying. He didn’t mean to peek into her room when he woke up (genuinely he didn’t, no matter what anyone says). Even though Mr. Hunham decided not to wake everyone up at the crack of dawn since Angus was the only holdover, the boy’s internal clock wouldn’t let him sleep in. So, the first thing he needed to do was go to the bathroom, and as he passed by the doorway to her room, she wasn’t there.

He didn’t think anything of it until he was eating breakfast at eight-thirty, and he still didn’t see her.

“I see.” Her father furrowed his brow, but then shrugged, going back to lunch. “Well, please at least eat something other than fruit.”

She took the whole bowl. “But it’s the candy of the good ol’ days.”

“And what are the good ol’ days?” Mary huffed,

“Ancient Rome and Greece,” she popped a grape into her mouth. “also when women had less rights than they do now.”

Angus snorted, trying to then cover up his amusement with a cough. He didn’t find women not having rights funny (please believe him), it was just unexpected of her to say. Still, he felt all eyes on him, and refused to meet any of them as he picked up a piece of bacon.

He likes to think Mr. Hunham’s daughter was smiling at him when she stood up. “Fine, I’ll get real food.”

She went to the kitchen to grab a plate, and Mary hummed. “Never thought I’d see that girl ever be happy this early in the morning.”

Angus finally looked up. “She usually isn’t?”

Mary smirked, placing her cigarette between her lips. “I don’t think you’d last a day with her if you were both ten.”

There was nothing else to do after Mr. Hunham lectured Angus for an hour about the aqueducts in Rome. What was usually two and a half hours was only one, since the teacher claimed: “I’m feeling a little generous because of the season.”

Not because he wanted to drink alone in Dr. Woodrup’s office reading mystery novels (Don’t be ridiculous).

So, that brought Angus Tully back up to the infirmary, to do what, who fucking knows? He glanced into the other room and saw Mr. Hunham’s daughter laying on the middle bed, reading. When she looked up, sensing his presence, he instinctively hid behind the corner.

“You don’t have to be creepy anymore.” She spoke with the sarcasm he knew so well. “We’re friends, remember?”

Angus, playing it cool, entered the room, leaning against the wall. “Who says I was ever creepy to begin with?”

“I did.” She placed a bookmark in her book before setting it down and sitting up. “And you know, ordinary people just enter a room; they usually don’t bother checking.”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “maybe you’ve convinced me there are ghosts here and I just want to be safe?”

Not because he was hoping she was in her room and had a reason to go talk to her (Don’t be ridiculous).

She rolled her eyes yet smiled anyway. “Took you long enough to figure out I’m always right.”

“I said ‘maybe’. What’re you reading?”

“Just now or in general?”

“Yes.”

She held up The Two Towers. “You ever read Tolkien?”

Angus sat on the spare bed across from her. “I read The Hobbit my freshman year; one of the only books I liked reading in school.”

His eyes fell to the stack of books on her nightstand. Little Women, Sense and Sensibility, Giovanni’s Room, andThe Count of Monte Cristo.

“You’ve read all of these?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah.” She then pointed to The Count of Monte Cristo on the bottom. “Well, I actually tried to read this one when I was fourteen but got bored with it; I’m trying again.”

“Right after you reread everything else?”

“Shut up.”

She tried to sound serious, but he watched as she turned her head to try and hide her smile. He wasn’t ashamed to show her his. Angus’ eyes went back to the stack of books, and he took out Little Women, flipping to the first page.

“‘Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents.’ Grumbled Jo.” He read aloud, then looked up from the book. “Now I know why Mr. Hunham calls you that.”

“Are you saying I’m selfish, Fitzwilliam?”

He shook his head, going back to reading. “No, you just complain a lot.”

She scoffed. “Just wait until you meet Amy. I love her, but I’m glad I don’t have sisters.”

Angus’ didn’t respond, his eyes trailing over the words on the pages. He didn’t truly know why he kept reading; whether it was out of boredom, or perhaps he was already hooked on the story, he would never tell.

“Wait,” he heard her. “are you still reading?”

“Damnit, you made me miss my spot.” He glared at her.

She already knew he didn’t mean it (that much). Still, the girl giggled, laying back down on the bed and opening The Two Towers, going back to her own reading. They were like that for ten minutes perhaps? It was a strange time that went by fast and slow. No, Angus Tully wasn’t even doing this to think of what to say to her, he was genuinely engrossed by Louisa May Alcott.

Then, it was when he was more than half-way done with the first chapter, that he asked. “Where were you this morning?”

She looked over at him. “I’m guessing you hate the book?”

“Don’t change the subject.” He sat up. “And no, it’s actually tolerable.”

“Tolerable for it being written by a woman?” She sat up as well. “And for your information, I just went to the woods. What, were you worried about me or something?”

“Maybe…I don’t know, maybe.” Were the only thoughts behind his eyes, but his mouth moved differently.

“No. Wait, you’re walking around the woods, and you’re calling me creepy?”

“What’s so creepy about walking around the woods by myself?” She questioned. “If there was someone following me, then they would be creepy, dumbass.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t know anyone who spends their time frolicking through the woods for fun.”

“You didn’t really know anyone, but neither did I, so we’re even.” She stood up, going to the window to look out of it. “I also prefer frolicking through flower fields, but this isn’t the best season for that.”

Angus hummed. “Yeah, I noticed.”

He debated on asking her why she was out there for an hour and a half; if she was in the woods, or if she was even outside. Just as he was battling with himself and wondering how to ask her without her biting his head off, he saw her tremble.

“Are you okay?” Was the first thing he asked.

“Come over here.” She commanded without looking at him.

He stood up immediately, and as he was halfway to the window, she giggled; a sound he had heard before but…not like this, somehow. Angus stood beside her at the window and watched as Mr. Hunham walked on the sidewalk by the quad, stretching.

“Look at that sad, little man.” She tisked.

Angus asked without looking away. “You talk about your dad like that?”

“You would too if he was yours.”

“Point made.”

They watched as the teacher picked up a stray football on the ground, and with perhaps the worst technique ever, threw it. Both she and Angus, as if her father would see them in the window, backed away from it, laughing at the absurdity.

“I almost feel bad now.” She said through her enjoyment. “That’s a lie, I don’t.”

Her honesty only caused Angus to laugh even more, and he can’t remember when the last time it was he had ever laughed this much. Especially over something so stupid.

“Well, it’s obvious he didn’t play football in high school.” He said.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “he’d go on and on about being president of Latin and Chess club.”

That’s where Angus’ amusement ceased. Even if it was at his own expense, he didn’t mind it at all since he could see just how wide her smile could get.

“Angus Tully, don’t tell me-.”

“-What’s wrong with Chess club?”

“I knew it!” She pointed at him. “You nerd!”

“You’re the one that knows all of Roman history and mythology like the back of your hand, and you’re calling me a nerd?!” He teased.

The girl snorted, crossing her arms. “Not all of it.”

“Yes, you do.”

“So why have I lost to you twice now?”

“I just got lucky.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

“I’m serious!” He tried to brighten the strange air that settled in the room. “Your dad didn’t drill it into you for nothing.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” She hummed, sitting back on the bed. “So, you’re good at chess?”

He shrugged, taking a risk and sitting next to her (with about two feet of space of course). “I guess so. My…my dad taught me how to play, and I never beat him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, nearly losing himself in the memory. “I was like nine when this snowstorm hit, I was out of school for almost a week, and my dad and I just played the whole time.”

“So, you played without bathroom breaks, and you still didn’t win?”

“Okay, smartass.”

She smiled. “My dad tried teaching me chess and he beat me every time too.”

“You still play?”

“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“I always cussed at my him whenever I lost, so probably not a good idea to keep going.”

Angus snickered. “How old were you?”

“Seven.”

“You were cussing at seven?”

“He was an asshole!”

“Yeah, I’ve met him.”

It was almost horrifying how her face dropped at his comment. One where it was like the words themselves shocked her. Then, before Angus could fully register what had just happened, she was laughing.

“Sorry,” she shook her head. “I’m just imaging what you looked like as a kid.”

He tried to laugh it off with her, but that odd tension crept its way back in. “I was weird.”

“So was I. You should’ve seen me when I was twelve, my father drilling Roman knowledge into my head, proclaiming how, if I wanted to be better than all of the boys in my class, I had to work for it.” She grinned. “It’s like he tried to make me a small version of him, which was impossible from the start.”

Angus nodded, not exactly knowing how to respond. “Yeah?”

“Of course.” She shrugged. “Well, he doesn’t mean to, but I feel like he sometimes forgets I might want to wear ribbons in my hair, put on makeup, girly things like that that I almost called stupid, but they’re not. But could you imagine it? My father wearing makeup and…okay, he doesn’t have much hair for ribbons, but you get it.”

“I do.” He smiled.

She nodded, and they fell into another beat of silence. It was almost a competition as to who would speak first, and in the end, she surprisingly lost. She stood up from the bed.

“I uh…I promised Mary I’d help her in the kitchen.” She walked backwards. “You’re more than welcome to keep reading my ‘tolerable’ books written by women.”

Angus hummed, trying to shake off her abrupt exit. “Yeah, I got nothing else better to do. Maybe I’ll meet you downstairs and keep harassing you?”

“Yeah sure.”

With that, she turned on her heel and scurried out of the infirmary. Angus always found her to be strange; from the moment she stepped into Mr. Hunham’s classroom in September, to her just then. Still, it was a strangeness he couldn’t help but be intrigued by. Not the same as how a scientist would study a foreign species but…he had grown quite fond of her.

He already had a liking for her that first day he met her (despite her harsh and course attitude towards the others in class). Not a liking enough to have it be a crush per say (he was still annoyed with her). Then, the whole catastrophe of him being stuck with her over Christmas break only added fuel to a fire.

A fire that has both warmed and burned him all at once.

What kind of shit was he going on about? He read half of a chapter from Little Women, and now look at him!

Not knowing what else to do with himself, Angus slid The Count of Monte Cristo out from the bottom of the stack of books. It had been one of his favorites as a kid; ironic in both a sense that he read it as a child, but also his mother of all people recommended it to him. Before he could even flip it to the first page, he saw a small gap in the middle as if there was a bookmark. He opened it and found a letter; an already opened letter.

Angus’ blood ran cold at the sight of it, and as he took it onto his hands, he turned it over. It was addressed to her, and the stamp was a toy train. He had only gotten a glance at the first letter when Teddy stole it, and he recognized the stamp.

Sighing, it almost felt like the envelope was burning in his hand as he hunched over himself. He could’ve read it…it was right there, and it was already opened so it’s not like she would’ve ever known.

But he would’ve. And he knew there was no going back if he read whatever Daniel wrote to her, and even if it wasn’t bad (how could it not be), then he knew she’d be able to sniff him out like a rat that he’d read it.

Wait…Daniel…Danny…The janitor.

“Shit!” Angus hissed, almost falling off the bed, then sprinting out of the infirmary and running blindly though the school he has gone to for months.

He ran outside without a jacket on, looking around for Mr. Hunham. When he already saw his fingers beginning to turn white in a matter of a minute, he ran back into the school and navigated the halls as if he were a bat out of hell.

It took him quite literally running into Mr. Hunham for him to finally stop.

“God almighty, Mr. Tully!” He gasped. “What is the meaning of this?!”

Angus, trying to catch his breath, said. “Mr. Hunham, I have to tell you something.”

Immediately upon noticing his distress, the teacher’s harsh demeanor and voice dropped. “Well…alright, what is it?”

“Can-.” He looked around, feeling suddenly exposed in the hallway. “Can we do this somewhere else?”

“Sure, sure.” Mr. Hunham nodded, looking around as well until his eyes landed on the first door he saw. “Let’s uh, is there fine?”

“Yeah.”

They both entered into a classroom that neither had been in before. It was smaller in size, more than likely meant for honor’s classes, but it looked like it hadn’t been dusted since the beginning of the year when parent’s would visit. When the door was shut, Mr. Hunham turned back to him.

“Now, what’s going on?”

Angus said her name. “Someone’s been sending her letters.”

“What kind of letters?” He asked, his face a mix of confusion and even a hint of denial.

“I…” Angus looked down at the one he had in hand and held it out to the teacher. Mr. Hunham took it, slipping his reading glasses out of his pocket. Angus continued. “Someone named Daniel sent her one days ago, Kountze stole it and read it aloud to everyone back in the woods. I think it’s Danny, the janitor.”

The moment he said ‘Daniel’, he’d already seen Mr. Hunham’s entire demeanor change. He saw him visibly tense, as he read the letter what must have been a million times. As time stood still in the dingy classroom, the teacher swallowed thickly.

“You said she got another letter a few days ago? Where is it?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head.

“Mr. Kountze read it aloud, what exactly did it say?”

“I…” Angus paused, trying to remember just what was written so he wouldn’t miss a thing, “He asked her to send a picture of herself to him, and wished her a Merry Christmas. He sent her thirty-five dollars too; did he send more?”

Mr. Hunham shook his head, obviously bewildered at the amount of money. “No, he didn’t. Mr. Tully, did you even read this?”

“No.” His response was instant.

“Why not?”

Angus’ eyes trailed to the side, somehow finding the blank chalkboard much more appealing than Mr. Hunham. To be honest, anything at the time was more-.

“Angus,” His voice was stern, but not mean. It was enough to catch the boy’s attention, but not enough to scare him. “I need to know what you know, so we can help her.”

He took a deep breath. “Teddy made a joke that she…she…has pictures of herself in a skin mag.” It was absolute hell to watch Mr. Hunham sigh, so Angus looked away as he continued. “She didn’t say that she did, but she didn’t deny it, and I didn’t want to know whatever creepy shit Danny sent-.”

“-First off,” Mr. Hunham interrupted, rubbing his face. “this isn’t Danny the janitor.”

“How do you know?”

“Daniel,” He tried to say the name like he was a historical figure and not someone who made his skin crawl away from his body. “was...a family friend of some sort. That is all you have to know about him.”

Angus nodded, but couldn’t ignore the tightness in his chest, and how his stomach began to tie itself into knots as he asked. “Why did he stop being a family friend?”

“I said that’s all you have to know about him.” He said with more of a bite, then calmed himself. “I’ll speak to her about this the next time I see her, and rest assured, I won’t mention you.”

“She’ll know it’s me.” He shook his head. “I found it in one of her books when she left the infirmary after we talked.”

Mr. Hunham clutched the letter in one hand while removing his glasses with the other. “Regardless of details I cannot share with you, this little incident should not effect on how you view my daughter-.”

“-It doesn’t! I just-!” He lashed out unexpectedly at even the assumption of him finding any shred of blaming her for what was happening to her. “I just…I want her to be okay. That’s it.”

The teacher all but froze at his response, it is apparent that he was not expecting him to say that. Still, after regaining himself, he nodded. “You’re a good man for doing this, you know that, right?”

Angus scoffed, shrugging. “I don’t think she’ll talk to me ever again.”

“She may not,” he nodded. “but she also might. I won’t force her to do either. Again, thank you for letting me know.”

“Sure.”

The two of them walked out of the classroom in silence, and with Mr. Hunham’s “See you at dinner?” and his student’s nod, Angus Tully was left alone again in the grand halls of the school.

A fate that has somehow always caught up with him ever since he got there.

Angus read the same Popular Mechanics magazine three times over since he found it the night he was the only one left behind at Barton, and he’d gotten sick of it after the second time.

So, with nothing else better to do, and with it starting to get dark, he went down into the kitchen, where apparently everyone but Danny was, helping Mary cook. Including her. She was washing vegetables in the sink while Mary was preparing a roast, both of them laughing at someone one of them said. Mr. Hunham was just at the table, peeling potatoes like his life depended on it.

“Mary.” Angus greeted, smiling at her. Mr. Hunham’s daughter immediately turned back to the sink upon seeing him.

Mary looked up. “Speaking of…”

Deciding to ignore the strange tension in the room (He has a knack for doing that, doesn’t he?), Angus’ eyes traveled around until they landed on a dish beside him. “Oh, brownies? God yes, I want all of these.”

“Ah, ah!” Mary scolded when he took one. “Just take one. The rest is for the Christmas party tonight.”

“What Christmas party? There’s a Christmas party?” He said her name. “Did you know there’s a Christmas party?”

She didn’t turn around, and only responded with. “Uh-.”

“-Yes, at Miss Crane’s house.” Mary interrupted her. “She and I are only going for a little bit, show our faces, and say we were there. Well, she might stick around since her little friend is there. You know, Miss Crane said she invited you too.”

Angus furrowed his brows, looking over at Mr. Hunham. “I want to go to the party.”

He stammered. “She-she didn’t mean it. We were just making small talk.”

Mary shrugged. “If you don’t want to go, don’t go. I’ll take him.”

“Mary can take me.” Angus reiterated.

“No, that’s not how it works.” Mr. Hunham raised his voice a hint. “You’re under my supervision.”

Angus frowned. “So, your own kid isn’t under your supervision, but I am?”

“Don’t even think about pulling me into this.” The ‘kid’ in question shook her head, not even turning around.

Still, he scoffed, bringing his eyes back to Mr. Hunham. “Okay, maybe it’s fine for you to sit around here and read books all day,” he turned on his heel, beginning to walk out. “but I’m losing my goddamn mind, Jesus!”

“Hey!” Mary yelled at him once he threw the brownie across the room. “Watch your mouth, young man! Not on Christmas Eve.”

Angus ignored her, storming off back to the infirmary. He didn’t even make it to his room and a bed to dramatically throw himself on and scream into a pillow. He rested his back against the wall before sliding down it. Now sitting, his shoulders still tensed at what just happened. He’d been stuck in the school for a full week, only being able to go out when he dislocated his entire shoulder.

Who the fuck did that piece of shit think he was for holding him captive?!

Closing his eyes, he thought back to what Dr. Gertler told him. Sure, the guy was a quack, but once or twice he actually had a few things that helped him. Angus breathed in, counting to four, held it for three, then released it for another four.

He repeated that until he felt the tension (mostly) fall away from him, and there was even a hint of calmness in his head.

Which was then lost when he opened his eyes, and she was peeking from around the corner.

“Jesus!” He gasped, and she immediately hid. Once his heart stopped beating so damn fast, he said. “Okay, now who’s being creepy?”

“…Me.” She said after a moment’s silence, still hiding.

Sighing, rested his head against the wall. “I’m sorry I yelled earlier.”

She finally showed herself, standing in front of him now. “I don’t think I’m the one you should apologize to but thank you. My dad said you can go to the party with Mary and I.”

That got Angus to sit up taller. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, but he’s going with us, so it won’t be that fun.” She joked.

He snickered along with her, before asking. “What about dinner?”

“We’ll probably just have it at Miss Crane’s. We’ll just have a nice lunch or something tomorrow instead of tonight.” She explained before walking into her room.

This was what caught Angus Tully off guard. She wasn’t exactly acting like her father had just confronted her about the letters, she was being too nice to him…so did she know it was him? She had to; or was he just overthinking it and getting in his own head (Something he did frequently)?

“When are we leaving?” He asked.

“In an hour!” She yelled, her voice somewhat muffled. “So, get on it, Fitzwilliam.”

“Anything you say, Amy!”

He ran off before she could storm after him (like he assumed she would), and went back into his room, which had darkened quite a bit. He went to his bag and took out the razor and shaving cream that he had only opened a few times since the beginning of the semester. He shook the can and applied the cream to his face before bringing the blades of the razor up to shave.

There was honestly no need to. It’s not like he even had “sawdust under his nose” as one would put it when talking about the mustache men would try to grow after watching Top Gun, which didn’t exist at this time, but that’s beside the point.

Even so, as he wat attempting to shave what was not there, he heard a knock, and her voice asked. “Are you decent?”

“Yep.” He answered, not even bothering to glance at the hall of lockets she had knocked from.

She came into his eyesight and stood so close to him in the mirror that he could feel the heat of her skin on his. “Move over.”

“Why?” He scoffed playfully, yet still did so.

It was only then he noticed the small makeup bag she had in her hand, and she placed it on the sink before opening it and taking out a sponge and small jar of liquid that matched her skin tone (it was foundation; he’d heard the word before but didn’t know it was that until perhaps a year later).

“The lighting’s better in here.” She answered, getting close to the mirror and dabbing the liquid on the sponge and upon her face.

Angus took a second (and only a second, if he took any longer she’d yell at him) to look at her entire self, and saw that she was wearing a dress. A dress that he would never have imagined on her. Her hair was almost the same as always...but there was something more to it he couldn't quite verbalize.

She was still herself, and it was silly to Angus Tully that it took a different dress and perhaps some makeup (something he’d hardly see her wear) to realize just how…just how…

“You look…” His mouth trailed off faster than his brain before he could stop himself.

After finishing her foundation, she took out a powder and brush. As she applied the powder, she glanced up at him through the mirror, a smirk on her face that was holding back a laugh. “Yeah?”

He couldn't call her ‘pretty’ (both because she’d never talk to him again, and that would be belittling her), and he couldn't call her ‘beautiful’ (she just wouldn’t talk to him again period; and he’d probably be scaring her off). So, apparently, the best thing he could think of in a limited amount of time was-.

“-Like a girl.”

Oh, how attractive it was to open one of the windows and jump out of it. If it wasn’t the fall that would kill him, it would certainly be freezing to death in a foot of snow.

Instead, to his surprise, while she momentarily scowled at him (as she should have), she giggled. Shaking her head, she said. “I would say you look like a man, but there’s nothing about you to prove that.”

As his heart began to beat again from her apparent lack of offense, he took the towel off the rack and wiped the residue cream off his face. “Oh yeah? What am I then?”

“A boy.” She set down the brush and took out a small tube of liquid, shaking it. “A tall, little boy.”

He snorted, walking away from the mirror when her gaze became just a little too much. “You said you were friends with Miss Crane’s niece?”

“Yes.” Her tone changed somewhat (or was he just overthinking it).

“Do you think I could-?”

“-Should I put on eyeshadow?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“You know,” she turned over her shoulder. “the color that goes on the eyelids?”

“I know what eyeshadow is. I’m not that big into makeup, so I don’t know.”

“Really?” She teased. “You aren’t into makeup?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She turned back to the mirror, opening the tube. “Nothing.”

Angus’ eyes scrunched as he smiled at her playfulness. “Well-.”

“-Shut up.” She interrupted him.

He scowled. “Huh?”

She had the pen (it was eyeliner; he actually knew what that was) hovering over her right eye, and she was glancing at him again through the mirror. “I’m doing the most important part, and it’s the one I’m horrible at, so I need complete silence.”

Angus Tully merely nodded, looking away. He didn’t know how long she took, but she knew she was finished when he heard her gasp.

“I did it!” He looked back and saw that she turned to him with the biggest smile on her face, and blackened wings kissing the corner of her eyes. “I did it!”

He could only nod. “Yeah, it looks good.”

She grinned from ear to ear before turning back to the mirror, setting down her eyeliner and getting out an eyelash curler. “Could I ask you a question, even though you’ll feel stupid afterwards?”

“Do your worst.”

“Why ‘Amy’?”

Angus felt safe to smile at that. “Does that bother you?”

“Why, on God’s green earth, would you say I was like Amy?!”

“Well,” he shrugged. “it pisses you off, that’s the first reason. Second is…she grew on me.”

She scowled, turning to look at him. “Oh yeah? How so?”

“I mean…you made her out to be so annoying, and someone who complains a lot which, yes she does. But she’s funny, and she sticks to herself like Jo does, but…I don’t know, I just like her.”

Her face fell for the second time that day; but not like it did that afternoon when he made a joke about her father. No, this time, he knew it was because she truly didn’t think he would say anything like that.

And, for the first time since he’d known her, she almost looked shy.

Something he thought would be the thing that terrified him the most that entire Christmas break.

So, when she didn’t respond, and wanting to disrupt the awkward silence, he then asked. “Wait, why was your dad so against going, but now he’s fine with it?”

She looked back at the mirror, looking at him through it. “Besides the fact it wouldn’t be fair that you’d be stuck here while I’d go, he has a crush on Miss Crane.”

Angus snorted. “Figures.”

She shrugged. “I kind of always knew. I mean, she’s worked here for five years, but I think he only started liking her last year. I’m also not sure what he’s more afraid of; how I’d react to him liking someone after Mom died, or him just liking her period.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

“My mother’s been in the ground for six years.” She decided to take the eyelash curler back in her hand, then brought it up to one of her eyes. “We still visit her of course. She wasn’t selfish either, and it’s been so long, so I don’t think she’d mind. Besides, I’m going to technically graduate next semester, and I don’t want to be stuck here, but I also don’t want him to be alone. Mary’s really his only friend so…yeah, I think I’d be okay if he was with Miss Crane.”

Angus nodded. At first, it felt almost invasive and even wrong for her to tell him all of that so effortlessly. But…he leaned into it the more she went on. She’d been vulnerable with him before (whether she thought it or not, she had been), but this time…it wasn’t a huge confession, it was just a simple conversation.

“I don’t…” He found himself saying.

He didn’t what? What was he going to say? Something about his father? His mother? It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her something.

She took the curler away from herself and turned to look at him. Her eyes…her damn-no, they weren’t damned; they were kind, gentle…but still he felt damned just as she looked at him in a way he hadn’t ever seen her look at anyone before. She was waiting for him to say something.

Say something.

She hadn’t said a word, hadn’t done anything but stare at him, but he was suddenly twelve again. Angus Tully, with his hair that was just beginning to have out of place curls, walking into his parent’s room at two in the morning. He woke his mother up, who gasped when he touched her. After she calmed down, she was appalled to see him crying.

It wasn’t a bad dream, it wasn’t because something had happened to him at school; he didn’t know what was making him weep, but he was doing it anyway.

He could barely say anything, he babbled like a baby learning to talk, and all he could get out was “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

His mother tried her best (he liked to himself that), but she could only say “I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

Didn’t she hear him? He didn’t know.

Even now, at seventeen, he didn’t know what to say to her.

“I don’t know how you can use that.” He glanced at the eyelash curler.

She furrowed her brow upon the change in tone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, it looks like a torture device.”

Scoffing, she looked back to the mirror and curled the lashes of her other eyes. “You’ve just never tried it before.”

“And I never will.”

She looked back at him once she was finished. “Are you scared?”

“No, I just don’t see the reason to.”

She shrugged. “I think you’re scared.”

“Am not.”

“Okay, then let me put mascara on you.”

He scoffed. “You’re kidding.”

“No.” She shook her head. “If you’re not scared then you’ll let me stick something in your eye. You don’t have to wear it to the party, but I think it’d be fun.”

Angus was at a loss. She was a good actress, so how was he supposed to know she wasn’t messing with him? Well…he didn’t; he just had to trust her. To be fair, he had been weird around her this whole time, so…

“I’m not doing the torture device, just the makeup.”

Her face lit up, and she took the mascara out of her bag, setting everything else inside of it. “Get over here.”

He followed, leaning against the wall by the mirror. Suddenly, as he stood in front of her, he was nervous. It wasn’t the first time he was (whether that was because of her wit, her confidence, or even her meanness), it was because it was just her.

“How uh,” he stammered. “how are we doing this.”

“Lean down first of all, fuck why are you so tall?”

“Not one of my favorite qualities.” He joked, pressing his hand against the sink for support as he lowered himself slightly.

“Meh,” she shrugged, unscrewing the cap of her mascara. “girls usually like tall guys.”

His heart flipped. “Yeah?”

She froze momentarily before continuing. “I guess. Elise told me.”

“Right.”

“Okay, close your eyes. You’re going to want to open them when you feel something touch your eye, but I promise you, you don’t want to do that.”

“Sounds good.” He closed his eyes, waiting for the feeling of discomfort. He could feel the heat of herself hover around him, but the pain from the mascara never came.

He heard her sigh. “This isn’t going to work.”

Angus opened his eyes when he felt her draw away, and he saw her sit on one of the beds. She titled her head. “Come here.”

He didn’t know if his heart was still or was going to beat itself out of his chest. Obviously, he sat by her before but…he had to be closer to her. Angus did his best not to make a big deal of it, but he felt like he was almost watching himself outside of his body as he sat beside her and closed his eyes.

“Do you want to know what my mom called me when I was younger?”

She was trying to distract him and he knew it. “Sure.”

“Ever heard of Orpheus and Eurydice?”

He tensed but soon relax when she rested her hand on his cheek; it felt like she was burning him, but the way that he felt whenever he had a fever. Somehow…it was comforting. Breathing shallowly, he answered. “Greek? Kind of.”

“Well,” he cowered away a little when he felt something brush his eyelashes but kept calm as she continued. “where my father loved Roman history and mythology, my mother was more into the Greeks. They’d go back and forth debating on which was more influential, and that was more so how they became friends. She…before I was born, she talked about naming me Eurydice because it was her favorite story. My dad was obviously against it, so that was a no. So, that’s when she’d just call me Eurydice at home a lot, just to piss him off which was funny.”

Angus hummed, paying attention to her words, but having to bite his tongue to keep himself grounded from losing himself within her touch. “What’s she like in the story?”

“Not much to her.” She moved onto his other eye. “Well, what it gives us anyway. I always had my mom tell me their story, and Eurydice kept changing. It was always who I was like growing up.”

“Really?”

“Really. I was shy around the other kids when she first told me-.”

“-You, shy?”

“Shut up, I’ll mess up your eye if you make me laugh. But yeah, so Eurydice was quiet and shyer. Then, when I’m like nine, I’m a bit more outspoken, angrier even, so she became that.”

He didn’t move his head, scared that he’d mess her up. It was then, after she stopped speaking, he could feel her breath on his face. Her hand was still warm against his cheek, and he found himself leaning into it more and more. He had not felt this sense of peace since…he couldn’t recall.

“Done.”

With one word from her, she took her hand away and he opened his eyes. She was still so close to him, and while he saw her smiling at what he assumed had been her work, it was him staring at her that made it drop. Still, she didn’t look frightened nor upset, she was just…looking at him.

The moment his eyes dropped to her lips for only a second, it was all over.

He’d thought about it, of course. He wanted to. But…like with everything about her, he froze.

She didn’t.

“You…” She stood up from the bed, straightening the skirt of her dress. “you should probably wash that off after taking a look.”

Angus didn’t have time to respond before she grabbed her makeup bag and ran off. He just sat there, trying to process if he was waiting to wake up from a dream, or if it had been in fact real.

When nothing happened, he sighed heavily, getting up and walking towards the mirror. His eyes looked different, and he felt weird. He could not tell if it was from the makeup, her, or both. Still, what he did know, was that he made a fool of himself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #paul hunham #the holdovers #mary lamb #Youtube

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