#it’s been so long since i been jaw dropped yelling at the TV like -

[serotinals]

season 3 of love is blind has me GAGGED

[pinkrelish]

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

rockstar!eddie x assistant!fem!reader

✶Tossed to the wolves of touring lifestyle, you'd had enough of Corroded Coffin's backstage antics one night after a show, and try to escape to the bus for fresh air. Eddie follows.✶

NSFW — 18+ drug/alcohol mention/use, eddie spits whiskey in reader's mouth, sexual themes, crude jokes, enemies to lovers vibes, secret soulmates au

[wc: 8.8k]

↳ standalone gift oneshot for the i will wait series written by @abibliophobiaa, @blueywrites, @breddiemunson, @myosotisa, @fracturedarkness

The methodical chaos—the mechanical creep of soundscape under the drums punching through your body, building to something bigger—ended forty-nine minutes and twelve seconds ago, and like the suspended chords he loved so dearly, you were left with a sense of foreboding.

Stage lights dimmed off. You were on the clock. Showtime.

Babysitter. Handler. Assistant who knew better than to offer him water.

Nerves holstered your shoulders. Unease twisted your stomach. Your ears rang, your teeth ached. Your jaw clenched in throbs off tempo from your heartbeat running wild on the adrenaline feeding the racing pulse hammering in your chest.

The concert was over, but the noise never stopped.

Inside the venue’s backstage room, abrasive bursts of laughter collapsed in excited chatter after an individual cocked back an object, and threw it.

The true night began.

A mostly empty beer bottle smacked its intended target in an echoey clang, and fell in a spray of foam. Fine. You could handle that. Then someone grabbed a plastic chair with metal legs, hoisted it over their shoulder, and chucked it, stumbling after the trajectory in the sloppy way drug-encouraged drunkenness would imply. A cacophony of too-loud cheering was caught on tape by a sound engineer’s personal Sony camcorder, flattening himself against the wall to capture the reaction to the CRT TV dropping from its shelf in the corner, stage live feed long since dead. On its fateful descent, it clipped the edge of an EXIT sign, which now dangled by its chord like a pinata, becoming the next target.

The beige brick room dampened outside interference and amplified the rest, living between yours ears alongside the snappy demands, rude remarks, and crude jokes. Spoken down to, disregarded like caked dirt between boot treads. Anxieties buzzing, looming a presence at the back of your mind, always. On edge.

Shouts, thuds, broken glass. People had the sense to duck, and cower. A side table was lifted, and heaved in a barbaric yell. Beer bottle after beer bottle after beer bottle. Chair legs ripped off, slick from the boozy bubbles coating the floor, and hurled at the red blinking sign. A lamp from another room. An ugly trash can. A hairdryer. The telephone you used to make a phone call thirty-two minutes and forty-three seconds ago; ripped from the wall with its receiver, and added to the clutter of projectiles. A bucket of melted ice, nailed head-on, splashing two dots of cold water on your cheek.

Expendable bottles were gone, but the riot didn’t stop. Another case was ripped into. Hard liquor traded hands. White powder stung noses, earning bloodshot eyes. Rewards. Rowdy shoving. Boys will be boys behavior.

An unopened Pabst whizzed past your head, slammed like a bullet into the mirror on the opposite wall, launching itself in a jet of built-up pressure across the room, ending its route at the toe of your heeled shoes seemingly just to ruin your wool-blend Express pencil skirt with hoppy liquid.

Eddie kicked the can away.

He circled his thumb and forefinger up the sides of his nose, and sniffed hard. “Want some?” he asked as he leaned on the wall with you, posture lax and open in all the ways your crossed arms weren’t. You cut your glare to the clear bottle he offered you. His grip obscured most of it, but you could see a worrying amount of whiskey had already been drunk when it crested the sides between his middle and ring finger.

Remembering to answer, you shook your head. The amber liquid sloshed with his tut, “Suit yourself,” and two deep gulps bobbed his throat.

You weren’t opposed to drinking when around him, but you learned your inebriated lesson four stops ago when the bill from the hotel totaled a stomach dropping amount, and as much as alcohol made it easier to tolerate Eddie in particular, your sluggish tongue slurring over an authoritative reminder of the early start to the morning to make it to the next city on time only fueled his defiant attitude. Pink puckered skin marked the stitches he snipped out of his upper arm with a pair of nail scissors after he and Gareth decided to smash the Hilton’s wine glasses for fun, and was surprised when a sliver of glass bit him back. Under his stringy bangs was an angry red scab from yesterday’s mic throttle to his forehead at the end of a verse, screaming his voice to the point of cracking with emotion. Other self-destructive tendencies coated his knuckles in dried blood.

It was a lot to deal with.

Today’s toll was one ruined guitar, a broken bass after the fretboard was stabbed into an amp, a bent hi-hat stand, and a completely deboned keyboard; keys removed thoroughly by the sole of someone’s boot scraping them clean off in the midst of performance. Blowing off steam, Eddie called it. Boys will be boys, one of the returning tour managers shrugged at you.

So far, it was one of the lighter days of tour—

You flinched.

A loud pop flickered through the room. One of two fluorescent lights shattered, and the tube swung down from the ceiling, becoming the next victim to a corner store ham sandwich being thrown at it.

Staying as small as possible, the emotional support water bottle in your hand crinkled as you hiked your fists further up your biceps, eyeing the camera man in the corner. Your employer tilted his head at the sight too, admiring, perhaps, the scene of two guys puffing on cigars. They stood behind two young women dressed in short jean skirts and hot pink tops, leering over their shoulders as the camcorder zoomed in on the obvious body parts a crowd of men would be interested in. The cigars bounced in their mouths as they spoke an unheard instruction in the chaos surrounding you, and the halter tops came off, breasts dropping to the tune of their girlish giggles. The men cupped their palms around the assets, and bounced them as if they were weighing fruit. From their gross laughs, it appeared they were rating the groupies, and the ladies were just happy to be on camera, pouting their lips and arching their backs.

You drew a line from their tits to Eddie’s gaze, hating the sick kick of anticipation knotting your stomach, aware you shouldn’t care for an entire phonebook’s list of reasons if he was watching them with interest. But with clarity, you realized he wasn’t paying them attention at all. His lazy smile was aimed over the rim of his bottle, full lips moving in a goad to the mass of crew members clogging the doorway.

More property ready to be damaged entered over their heads. A couch. An entire fucking couch was carried, stood on its end, and lobbed at the sign, breaking loose a length of red and yellow wires. But it still held strong. Tenacious thing.

Two grown men wrestled beside you. Their sleeveless shirts tangled, riding up to show purpled bruises on their backs—one from a mic stand thrown at him, the other from who fucking knows what. At least Gareth’s was in the shape of a crescent moon.

You shifted closer to Eddie to get away from their kicking feet, and relaxed the frustration from your brows before he commented on it. He, likewise, was bumped into by his friends, but his stature didn’t waver. That’s just how it was. Your bodies were near enough for you to feel the heat radiating off his hot skin, but the moment his sticky elbow made contact with your nice blouse—forever marking it with oily sweat—he earned an apology from Jeff who fell into him, meanwhile you were increasingly worried about receiving a tennis shoe to the ankle.

Exhaling an overdue sigh, you glanced sideways at Eddie to gauge if this was an appropriate time to remind him he should shower and get ready to greet the fans waiting outside the venue, but your breath crumbled to a groan. An eager grin cracked his face, almost manic if it weren’t for his heavy-lidded brown eyes. An idea.

He stepped forward. Everything that wasn’t his tight lips on the bottle of whiskey was ignored; downing what he could in a long swallow, and shaking off his pinched features as it burned past his gritted teeth. He raised the rest over his head, and aimed. Perfectly. The sign smacked the wall from the force behind his pitch, spinning wildly on its cord, slinging the front EXIT display clean off, and dropping lower from the ceiling, ready to sever ties. Shouts for its demise pounded your headache. Many palms clapped the back of Corroded Coffin’s frontman. He held out his hand to his audience, and a fresh bottle of whiskey was produced into his grasp.

Intuitively, employees shuffled to avoid his uncoordinated steps backwards, but you didn’t have the luxury of options, thus he misjudged the distance to the wall and ran into it, and you.

Your poor toes were the first to scream out, stuck under his heavy heel. His elbow jutted into your stomach, digging the sharp corner of your laminated backstage pass into your sternum. Even better, his shoulder mashed your nose, and you didn’t twist your head in time to keep your mouth from coming in contact with his bare tricep, getting a lick of stale salt on your inner lip, and a whiff of boy scent assaulting your nose after his deodorant stopped working hours ago. Too much of his weight depended on you to keep him upright, so you grunted out, “Fucking—Eddie,” and pushed him when others wouldn’t. Laying your hands on him in annoyance when no one else dared. He wouldn’t remember it in the morning, anyway.

Eddie followed his stumble through, and spun around. “Whoops!” he said to you in a smile—a viciously sincere thing, betraying his status over you with a genuine shine to his heavy eyes. So innocent behind his sleepy blink, long lashes fluttering, fine lines creasing at the droopy corners from the happy grin teasing his dimple into coming out, freckled nose bathed in hues of pinky red darker than the places he chewed on his bottom lip. He appeared so earnest, so charming despite his current condition, that when his dilated pupils swallowed the rim of bitter coffee brown, you lapsed in staying alert, becoming enamored by his ability to steal the noise from the room when his gaze swept your expression in a slow study. Tender, almost. If he were anyone else.

That’s why it hurt more when the comradery in his features were a trick of the light, and you were reminded of your position as his paid bitch killjoy.

The uncorked bottle of whiskey made itself known under your nose. “Want some?” he asked with kindness he did not possess, easing into a higher register to lift the question to you. Knowing. Mocking.

You swatted his hand away, and answered flatly, “No.”

It was coming. You didn’t have to be looking at him to see his face slide into dull neutrality, dry mouth and wicked tip of his tongue swiping over the back of his teeth. The displeasure was felt. Living, breathing. Fracturing your resolve like the second lamp thrown against the wall.

“Y’sure? You look like you could use a drink to loosen that stick up your ass, and have a little fun.”

Maybe it was the fact Eddie’s day started with him bitching at you for waking him up, when yours started hours earlier, rebooking his hotel rooms after being banned from the chain after last week’s incident. Maybe it was his snide tone when he demanded coffee, and you glanced at the lobby’s carafe on instinct, only to be immediately humiliated in front of the interviewer who was sitting opposite him, festering an indignant response under your skin all day. You weren’t even intending it to be for him, you weren’t stupid enough to serve him such pedestrian coffee, you were thinking about getting it for yourself. Stupid fuckhead. Maybe it was the hours you spent oscillating between enjoying the travel to new places you’d never been, and wondering if the price of him getting this riled up whenever he pleases was worth it. Maybe it was the nauseous haze flogging the room from the cigars. Maybe it was the channeled aggression from the three guys who flipped over the fold out tables for no reason, sending plastic cups of backwash tequila across the floor. Maybe it was the collateral damage the venue was going to seek. Maybe it was the three days of disaster challenging your professionalism. Or maybe it was Eddie’s next comment which pushed you over the edge.

“If alcohol doesn’t do it for you, there’s prob’ly some guy who hasn’t left the parking lot yet, maybe he can loosen you up.” And to further imbue disrespect behind his comment, he leaned in and feathered the low dip of his raspy voice over the shell of your ear, speaking so quietly the syllables had trouble catching, “But if you fuck ‘im on the bus, I wanna watch.”

The sign snapped and crashed onto the heap of damp valuables, inciting a louder celebration from those participating.

You dropped your water bottle where you stood, and skimmed past Eddie on your way out. A firm departure with seething eyes aimed straight ahead. Chin strong, moving past him with a message. “Go to hell.”

And your backbone faltered when the mass of roadies blocked your exit. Security guards with big bodies jumped, rejoicing. Lanky lighting techs downed their beers and threw them over the small crowd with no aim. Your shoulders collapsed, tucking your arms to yourself. Avoiding elbows, meaty arms with enough muscle to floor you, testosterone laced boys will be boys behavior with a heavy dose of uppers. A wall of men who ignored your plea spoken so loud in your voice which did not carry.

But they obeyed the tattooed arm beside you. Minded the obnoxious rings when rapping on a man’s arm. Heard the hoarse voice commanding them all into a single file line for you to squeeze by, “Give her some room,” and their big bodies were already hugging the other side of the hallway with a laughed apology—to him, not you.

You shuffled out as dignified as possible, knees stiff and weight focused on the balls of your feet to avoid slipping on the tile. It was embarrassing enough as is being trailed with a bottle at your back—a far cry from a heroic palm guiding you forward—and his need to overtake you in a single stride. Eddie shot his other hand out and pointed down an unoccupied corridor, in essence blocking you from leaving. Not that you had much fight left in you to argue after being awake for twenty-one hours, thirteen minutes, and fifty-two seconds. You followed the lead he set for you.

Scarce lighting shone down on the two double doors leading outside, leaving the alcove he chose cast in a darkness your eyes had to adjust to. Musty warm air from the arena swept your face. A cleaning crew attacked the stands, creaking along the seating tiers. Sweeping, chucking empty cups. The pressure on the small of your back drove you to an open area near the instact and working EXIT sign allowing you to discern the back of the stadium, and his face.

Eddie’s features were glazed in a gentle omen of red.

There were thousands of scenarios churning in your mind at the situation of being stuck alone in a dark corner with a drunken man, but his slight smirk put you at ease, ironically.

The source of the painful knots between your shoulders spoke, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He then had the gall to crowd you to the dusty drywall, and rest his arm atop your head, caging you there. Treating you as a nuisance. An insect. A little bee. A bug caught in his sticky trap. Gazing down at you with reptilian cold pupils behind his happily hooded eyes, substances battling in his body. Dangerous to no one but himself.

You squinted. “No?” The questioning lilt wasn’t intentional, but you had no idea what he was getting at.

He cocked his hip out with a dramatic sigh, and dropped his head forward to stare at you through his lashes, mouth hung loose. Waiting, waiting, waiting; acting as if he were the pinnacle of patience when you refused to play into his game, making you the bad guy. But worry not, he upheld the onus to inform you, his assistant, in a tone wallowing from the dregs of flat boredom with an edge of irritation and touch of patronization for having to spell it out for you, “I’m hungry.”

A polite, professional sneer lifted your upper lip. “Okay? Food should be here soon. I called it in a half hour ago.” About when the band came off stage, and Harry gave his honest opinion on their sloppy performance, while Eddie gave notes to the sound tech about Jeff’s mic not picking him up during Down In It. “Should be here in a few minutes.”

“What’d you order?”

Apprehension tensed through your back, perceived by his forearm mussing up your hair as the instinctual emotion stood you taller, defiant; knowing why his glinty grin taunted a show of teeth.

Pizza on Fridays. Texmex on Saturdays. Chinese on Sundays. That’s how it was every weekend. The consistency ensured you didn’t mishear him earlier when he requested his usual lo mein. “You asked for Chinese food,” you stated evenly, strongly. One step ahead of him.

“Mm.” Eddie scrunched his nose as he pretended to think it over. “Not feeling it today. I want pizza,” he said, the last word suffocated inside the bottle lifted to his lips, taking a long draw as your exhausted brain snapped to condescending him.

“So eat a cheese wonton and use your imagination.”

Utter elation gleamed in the steady eye pinning you in the crimson gloom, head tipped back to drink and drink and drink, cheeks sunken from sucking in liquor, pursing his lips around the glass rim from the smile he tried to suppress after succeeding in getting a rise out of you.

Your blood could only simmer for so long. Rolls of pent up anger, of festering disdain at his ability to find any opportunity to get under your skin, of fatigue from being ‘on’ for nearly twenty-four hours, stone in your gut from the constant passing glances when you were seen with Eddie; it all met its limit. You just wanted to leave. Your path to the hallway was blocked by the smooth contour of his bicep. Ducking under would mean an introduction to his armpit, and you weren’t thrilled by the idea of flattening yourself to the wall to slip by the untamed forest of black wiry hair. It would also be an admission of defeat, even further affirming your role as his spineless assistant to boss around. You could choose the other way and go around him, avoiding him all together, but there was no pride in that, either.

“Can you move your arm?” you asked, giving him the option despite better judgment when sudden pin pricks of uh-oh spiked your senses when he lowered the bottle.

A glistening line of whiskey traced his puckish smirk. Never menacing, but never a good sign. For a long moment the ghosts of the arena haunted the space in distant noises. Caresses of other humans around. Feedback other than the clutch on your heartbeat, and his troubled exhale into a strong inhale through his nose. Big breath filling his chest. Held. You took note of Eddie’s dimpled chin and the beads of water building at his lash line, and finally, he moved.

A sticky circle stamped the soft underside of your jaw, sliding his spit along your skin as he used the rim of the glass bottle of whiskey to lift your chin up, up. Stretching your neck, tipping your head back to the relaxed length of muscle along his forearm. Barely time to register the cherry-red halo striking the ends of his frizzy curls, or the ramping excitement overriding his already ruined impulse control.

Shy, you severed the intense eye contact when his face drew near.

Blank black soundless vortex rushing in your ears.

Drip, drip, drop.

Tiny splashes, one after the other, thumped on the locket of your lips. Mouth softly shut from the pressure under your chin. Tapping, tapping. Beat, by beat. Two, three, four, before your confusion determined what the sensation was, and the astringent scent cut its way to your sensitive nose.

You froze. Body clenching tight, fists sweating, nervous saliva pooling under your tongue too difficult to swallow. Jaw clamped shut and rejecting the liquid pooling at your lips, flooding it to the corners of your mouth, tickling the peach fuzz at the edges in tall walls of surface tension until, at last, they swelled, broke, and crashed. Thin streams flowed down either side of your neck, absorbed by your white blouse’s collar and trickling to the top of your bra cups, skirting to your cleavage. Brain overloaded. Clocked out. Warring with disgust, shock, and disappointment at the pathetic way you curled your fingers in some frustrated gesture at his actions, but ultimately, wrenched his tank top into your grip, and submitted.

You parted your lips, and Eddie poured.

Liquor, warmed from his mouth, filled yours. Burning, burning; drowning under the surge of spirits setting a blazing trail to your stomach, piquing a noise from you which would only draw the attention from those curious as to who the couple was fucking in the dark corner of the arena. You blocked the deluge from choking you with your fat tongue; rising onto your tiptoes while bending at your weak knees in the same involuntary whine as you tensed and squirmed—conflicted. Twisted your hands into the top of his shirt where the ribbed knit stuck to his chest, fabric damp with sweat and cool to the touch. You lurched him forward without thinking, locked in a panic. He complied. Easily.

Body to body, lazy weight on composed. Rubber soled boots dragging along the outside of your simple heels in a stuttered slide. Nudging the introduction of his bare legs against your skin; his hairy shins and the scraggly strings from the ripped hem of his shorts brushing the sides of your knees. Feeling his heavy arm flex as the front of his hips met you in the same stunted bursts as his steps, going from the man who frowned when you approached him, to the one who pressed himself between your thighs, causing the bulk behind his zipper to rock against you as he found his footing and stood tall, keeping his mouth aimed above yours, forgiving what spilt over your cheek in his stupor.

Dried salt and earthen dirt, embroidered texture of the fabric scraps he sewed onto his tank top rubbed your knuckles. The smooth pads of your thumbs landed above the neck hole as you centered yourself, tracing the duality of chilly perspiration on the heated skin of his sleek pecs, feeling the layer of muscle shifting underneath. Notes of oakwood barrels stroked your tongue before the sour punch of rye stung water to your shut eyes. You peeked through the wetness. Just to see.

His powerful lungs exhaled at a trained rate he could sustain in time with the runnel leaving his gently puckered lips paused above your own. Bangs stuck to his forehead. Sleepy faraway gaze. Calm, serene against the circumstances which had you questioning why you weren’t spitting the liquor back in his face. The scrunch of concentration between his brows was your last blurry sight before you were desperate for darkness again, letting your eyelids fall closed, lashes marrying.

Toofulltoofulltoofull.

The difference in your mouth size was apparent. Whiskey primed the inside of your cheeks, filling their fleshy stretch, stressing the brim of what you could hold. He’d only begun to dribble what had run hot and thick over his tongue when you untwisted your achy fingers from his shirt and served three warning taps in the vicinity of his heart. Feathery prods, like silk over the sparse hair growing in the valley between his pecs.

But, due to unforeseen circumstances, he forgot to stop.

Either you wormed yourself into stretching taller against the wall, or he leaned down. Perhaps both were true. Maybe you went rigid from the impending threat of irreversible stains on your new Liz Claiborne blouse, and maybe he shifted when the nuances of your hips slid against his own, dragging upward and reminding him of the cradle he had you in.

Richly flushed from booze, the tip of his nose thawed your thoughts as it grazed past your own, mashing a hint of tenderness you rarely witnessed from him to your cheek. By accident, of course, like the wet mid of his hair skimming the edge of your jaw where the bottle remained notched to your chin; amber glass a stark contrast from the plush give of his bottom lip flirting across yours.

Dry chapped against chapsticked satin.

The unintentional touch happened so fast, too quick to explore.

Mmm! Another antsy noise from you which rang sweet when amplified by the empty pit of coiled wires in the stadium. Mouth overfull. Stomach gripped, lungs clenching for unhindered breath. Realty checking in.

You put strength behind your forearms on his chest, shoving him and whirling your face away, keeling over what room he gave you to struggle through the largest gulp of your life, losing some of the liquor in the process, as evident by the splash on the concrete floor. Beyond brave, you drank it down, coughing, sputtering, and shuddering through the aftertaste for what felt like minutes. Huffing. Heaving. Working through the flood of drool coating your tongue, momentarily resting your dewy forehead on the thick vein drawn down his bicep by the red light, trying not to puke. Your shoulder pressed to his sternum. His heart beat, loud.

You used your sleeve to attack the wet streaks on your chin and cheeks, mopping up your pinched expression as the nausea of chugging his disgusting rye whiskey churned what patience you had for him. “What the—?”

“Hey, try not to waste any,” he commented dryly.

Voice raising, “What the actual hell is wrong with you?” You picked your head up from the crook of his elbow to pin him with your vehement glare. But the flash of temper at his drunken antics faded to the messy background of emotions when you remained in his pinion. Slotted between him, the wall, and the bottle.

Eddie’s nose bumped the bridge of yours. He pulled back slightly, and lowered the bottle. Still, his voice was one half of a sigh seeking its counterpart over your lax jaw and weak scowl. “Lotta stuff,” he answered. Still, your hands remained bound in his shirt. You couldn’t let go. Why couldn’t you let go? You couldn’t let go as the center of your bottom lip tingled like the buzzing wings of a bumble bee. Why didn’t you spit out the whiskey in his face? It was gross, revolting. Why did you swallow it?

Licks of black pepper and clove stayed on your tongue. Inhales went stale with his tangy scent, acrid and musky after giving his all on stage. His sweat clung to your fingers, mixed with the sheen on your forehead. When he breathed, his belly fought for the space between you, pressing into your stomach. Existing in the proximity you’d never seen the other in before; enabling you to hear the intimate loll of his tongue moving the spit in his mouth before he spoke.

Appearing more sober than before, with a strange amount of alertness in his glassy gaze trained on the minute changes of your features, he said, “You’re going to have a miserable time on tour if you keep being this up tight.” He angled away to sip from the bottle held by its long neck in three of his thick fingers. Rolling his lips inward, his throat bobbed a fierce line in the EXIT sign glow. “I was trying to work that permanent twist out of your panties. Get you to loosen up, have some fun.”

Just like that, the frustration was back. His words, his tone, his lack of apology for being a royal pain in the ass.

“You make me miserable,” you told him. For good measure, you pinched the sensitive underbelly of his tricep in case your voice didn’t carry the anger from the last hour of putting up with his shit.

He mumbled, “Ow,” probably not feeling the pain with how much alcohol was in his system.

Restraining yourself from reacting bigger, you tightened your fists and tried not to shake him. “I can’t relax, because the second I do Corroded Coffin gets stacks of lawsuits rammed up it’s ass, and you and I both know I’m hired damage control,�� for you, you didn’t finish, getting too hot in the face to want to stand in your sticky clothes any longer, squishy inner thighs humid from being pressed together by his legs, shoes numbing your ability to feel the floor. “Would it kill you to stick to a schedule? Get cleaned up, meet some fans? Do the normal thing?”

The weight of his body returned, dropping the tension from his shoulders to curve them towards you, forcing your palms flat to his ribs. Another cage.

Unfortunately, his answer was a slow smirk. The bad kind. Sultry, and saccharine; dark like his purposefully narrowed coy eyes. “Kinda like it when you’re angry,” back to mushing his words together. “Lemme guess, you’re not even wearing panties to be twisted. You’re just naturally this…” Bitchy. “Pleasant.”

You pinched his tricep until you knew it hurt, until the roots of your hair tugged at your scalp from his forearm slipping away, and you used the space created to wedge past the areas of him which tempted a flicker of want in your core after a noticeable drag against your hip. “Don’t follow me.”

“C’mon, are you really..?” A pause. “Wait—!”

A productive conversation was a fruitless, futile thing.

You silenced the voice in your head telling you there was genuine remorse in his innate reaction to call for you. As if he were done pretending to be drunker than he was just to push things too far. Like he really cared you were walking away, in essence giving him permission to continue his night how he wanted.

No heavy thudded steps chased after you. The double doors were up ahead. You leaned into opening them past the heavy gust of hot air pushing back, and you stepped out to excited faces falling flat in disappointment when it was just a lady in a blouse and skirt reeking of booze, not a member of their favorite band printed on their bleach-dyed Corroded Coffin t-shirts.

~~~

When the tour bus doors next hissed, it wasn’t a single body stomping vibrations through the overly large vehicle on their way to pore over the details for the next show, it was a steady flow of those who called the beast their home. Most slung themselves in the couches at the front, talking shop around the kitchen table. Some infiltrated the fridge for beer. Another used the bathroom which was too close for comfort, especially in the recycled air blowing through the vents.

A body approached, and you curled your toes in as he passed.

Eddie’s heavy black boots stopped in the aisle of bunks. The soles squeaked as he turned, creaking leather as he sank his weight to one side. Stalling, facing you before he sat heavily on his bed. As he did so, two sharp pops drew his attention. Checking behind him, the privacy curtain was stuck under his ass, and the plastic rings meant to hold it up were snapped into pieces. You avoided putting your gaze on his person as you watched him solve this mystery, and returned to the paragraph you were scrawling in your notebook, moving your pen across the lined page.

Two of the last three days were journaled down, catching up from the hectic weekend, and venting through your emotions by reliving them. Darker ink bloomed where you carved the tip of your pen through your explanation of your hurt feelings and the general flippancy you were subjected to by one person in particular. The roadies and other members of the band got less screen time than the star of the show in your tirades. He knew this, too, looking from across the aisle at your clumped lashes, spying the water spots on the pages when he was standing. He sat forward, much like you, but his thighs were spread with his hands in between them, palm open to whittle a nervous thumb in the cupped center, having the decency to appear ashamed.

Your clothes were folded beside you, undecided if you wanted to trash them or wear them in defiance.

“Do you want me to apologize?” he asked, not quite enunciating due to his uncomfortableness.

Unable to mask it, you blinked rapidly before opening your eyes wide, not withholding the contemptuous sigh released from deep within. You gripped your notebook harder, bending it, rumpling the pages to hide what you etched behind your tight hands. Who the fuck asks if they need to apologize?

Eddie’s washed curls fell forward with his hung head, nodding to himself.

He got up, and left.

Anger scored your face. Draped by your headache was your furrowed brows, flared nostrils, twisted pursed lips zipped up tight from saying anything you’d regret—a lesson he could do with. Your pajamas were the makings of nine heavenly clouds after being dressed in stiff business attire all day, but the blisters on your ankles stung. Your joints throbbed. Your muscles wore sore. Your spine cried every time you moved.

Tomorrow you’d start doing the stretches the stageside crew showed you that kept them limber. You made a note to fit this in your schedule, bypassing the silly daydream of stopping at a bookstore in the next city and reading up on a yoga guide for more pose ideas than what the guitar techs could teach you, aware the chance you’d find time away from your boss to pursue your own self-interests was slim.

Flipping a new page, you dated it in the corner, began your introduction, and started on the third day of spilling your heart out.

Your pen was mighty interrupted.

It’s difficult to say what came first: the mouth watering rush of saliva, or the passionate rumble of your empty stomach yearning for the white takeout box placed in your lap by the bruised hand sporting cuts from punching Gareth’s drum platform during the one of the more self-loathing songs.

A pang of humility gentled his nature.

The four-fold top was open, revealing your favorite noodle dish with extra green onion and sesame seeds sprinkled on top, plastic fork stabbed through the middle. You lifted the container to swipe the oil stains off your mid-sentence rant, shaking free the beads of condensation collecting on the sides. The cardboard had gone soggy after being nuked in the microwave, burning through to your fingertips, but you held your dinner nestled in your palms, regardless.

It didn’t come with extra green onions or sesame seeds, those would have to be found on the side and added, along with the sauce to keep it from drying out.

Eddie made it exactly how you liked.

Hunched in the minimal space between bunks, you stared at the long stem of a bean sprout sticking out from the swirls of noodles, processing his gesture. Beneath that, your journal was splayed open to a slew of harsh sentences. Lower, directly across from your bare toes was Eddie’s boots. Higher, one of the metal aglets of his laces was stuck behind the leather tongue. Fresh socks clung the bottom of his calves. You listened to him peel back the curtain before sinking to his bunk, and trailed your study over the silvery scars on his knees. Moving up, you spotted a fresh beer in his hand, maybe one or two swigs taken. His elbows rested on his thighs, body folded over, leaning in, mirroring you to some degree.

The harsh overhead lighting brought luster to the bright golds, rich reds, and deep strands of chestnut through his dark hair brushing the shadow of his clavicle over the black shirt clinging to him, hugging the slope of his stooped shoulders.

Finally, you met the depth behind his eyes communicating what he couldn’t.

The apology lasted just long enough for your consideration, and then he lifted the crinkly wrapper tucked between two of his fingers. “You want this?”

You shook your head at the fortune cookie. “You can have it.”

“Nice,” he whispered. The unassuming planes of his cheeks lifted enough to allude to the dimple on his left side, and bracket his mouth in smile lines. He was still drunk, you assumed. A merry blush persisted across his nose, and his eyelids were as sleepy as the bags beneath them. But there was a youthful glee under it all as he tore into the cellophane. A glimpse at someone from long ago; not the rockstar before the start of touring who would pull laughs from you, but further, before the conditions of fame chewed him up, spit him out.

You wondered if Chinese takeout was a rarity in his boyhood, a special treat saved for when he left his hometown on trips to the city.

Eddie flicked the wrapper to the floor—annoyingly—and ducked at an odd angle to lay his upper half into the cozy nook of extra pillows he made you buy on the first night of being on the road. He stowed his beer at the apex of his clenched thighs, fitting the cold bottle snug against the packed seam guiding your eyes to the hill of his zipper, provoking hot blooded thoughts. His shirt rode up as he brought his arms above him, fanning the thick trail of hair out from under the hem, impossibly soft in appearance, auburn tinted, growing less dense on the sides of his belly. He cracked the crisp wafer in half, and you watched his stomach tense on the snap.

Squinting in the dark, Eddie depressed the button on the tiny reading light with his knuckle, and unfurled the paper from half the cookie, scanning the faded red text.

He snorted.

Choosing a mystical-sounding rasp not far from his real one to invoke the guise of a palm reader in a smoky lounge reeking of incense sticks, he read the fortune aloud while waving his other hand about, “You will be successful in love,” he said. His wrist went limp, and he tucked his chin to congratulate you. “Lucky you.”

No amount of plastic forks shoved in your mouth would rid you of the smile tightening your eyes. “Lucky me,” you echoed, full of wryness. The food, amongst other things, worked wonders to lift your mood. You weren’t as much buzzed from the shots sloshing in your stomach as you were queasy, and greasy noodles filled the tumultuous void stupendously.

He stuffed the crunchy cookie in his mouth, and turned the fortune paper over, speaking through the gnash of crumbs, “Your lucky numbers are 35, 26, 56, 10, 32, 52,” he continued.

“Uh-huh.”

The noise across the rest of the bus was at a level you could endure. Shooting the shit at an appropriate volume, or nodding along to the conversation. The driver would give the signal soon, and the boys would, or should, go to their bunks.

While you ate, Eddie stayed laying with his legs off the bed, head crooked against the wall due to the narrow space. He held the fortune above him. Reading it, sometimes. Thumbing the edge other times, or rubbing the texture of the stiff paper across itself. Staring, staring, unblinking from whatever he was thinking as he wrung a hand around his face; eliciting a sense of comfort from the audible stroke of his knuckles scratching over his stubble.

You scraped the bottom of your container, and put aside your notebook to gather your trash, two feet planted to make your way to the kitchen. At the last second, a glint caught your eye, and you bent over to pick up the wrapper Eddie dropped, tossing it in the takeout box, too.

“While you’re down there, be a doll and take off my boots.”

“No.”

His disgruntled groan followed you to the front of the bus.

The guys gave you a mixed reaction of curious glances and uninvolved nods as you stuffed your garbage in the overpacked bin. Jeff in particular made a point to look from you to his best friend’s legs, though you didn’t have much of an answer to whatever he was searching for.

A goodnight wave would have to do, and you were back at your bunk, folding the sheets down in preparation for the dreamless state you wished to be in. You sat on the mattress, eyes closed and spine somewhat neutral. The structure of the bunks were unforgiving, but the small crawl space could feel cozy at times, like a blanket fort made from couch cushions. Except, the house moved throughout the night, and angry honks woke you up on occasion. Not to mention you were a light sleeper from the stress of a car crash, or being dumped onto the floor.

The fortune paper flitted. Regarding you over the imposed suggestion between his legs, he informed you, “It says here the best way to relieve some of that tension you’re always carrying around is by taking a ride on a nice, fat—”

You snatched the beer bottle from between his thighs, big fake hard-on standing tall. He startled from the sensation, darting his eyes from the phantom trace against himself, and hailing you with a sputtered laugh through his cheek-aching smile, denying you the reward of taking him off guard by covering his mouth with his hand.

“I earned this,” you said about the drink.

“Yeah?” he goaded, pleased at your forwardness.

In a valiant attempt to show off, you tipped the mildly hoppy bitter back. Two pulls in, you thought better of it. Not quite a chug, but he lost the war with his grin, pearly teeth shining behind the thumbnail he strummed over the center of his bottom lip, eyes almost closed entirely in a bout of crinkles.

You pulled your lips off the bottle; off his spit and off his drink, off his glass cock, and were emboldened by the confidence of his playful disposition to rib on him openly, like the guys would when his pendulum mood swung to the good side. You lamented in a dramatic sigh,”Maybe my love life will be so successful, I'll get swept off my feet, and be free from the burden of listening to your sloppy guitar plucking all night.”

His expression lurched towards impressed. Overacting with his mouth agape in surprise, lips curled over his teeth, and splaying his hand on his chest. With how he propped himself up on one elbow, his shirt stretched flush against his pecs, accentuating the two round shadows at the ends of the metal bars through his nipples.

Right, you remind yourself, able to forget their existence through most of his wardrobe choices, he has pierced nipples.

Your body ran hot at the memory from two short hours ago where you were inexplicably thrusted into a situation where you could’ve felt the jewelry by accident, pressed against a wall. Now you were able to think through the adrenaline, and acknowledge having another person’s touch on your skin did more harm than good for the loneliness lurking within, calling it to the surface.

The notebook beside your pillow drew your glance.

Eddie stabilized your position in the conversation, not letting your sudden reservation deter him from seeking retribution for your insult. “Think y’drank too much honey, there, Bee. That one stung below the belt.”

The moment it took for you to register the low leech of a tease sneaking its way through his croaky, whiskey-hoarse words was a long one. Longer was his heavy palm falling to demonstrate where exactly your insult hurt him, cupping and grabbing the afflicted area. “You wound me!” he dramatized, demonstrating the limits his fatigue green shorts flattered, cotton fabric scrunching under his grip, then slouching flat on the release. Longer, still, was the distance between the gaudy ring on his middle finger and the tip of his short nails, thick digit landing on the tattered seam splitting him down the middle. Letting go, he rested his hand above his belt.

Everything about him was victorious. Champion eyes glinting rum colored; a shade you’d never seen on him, and almost missed with your observance stuck lower, trapped by his overt flirtations.

His belly rose and fell with a sympathetic hum devised to rattle you.

When sober, the invitation to crude insinuations began and ended with intangibility. A calculated smile to fluster you when caught admiring how his tattoos twisted over the muscles in his upper arms when he leaned on his keyboard, a sentence spoken in the morning before his voice warmed to its comfortable register, a tossed comment in the midst of conversation with his band mates and the effect it had on you shifting uncomfortably just outside the ring of amity—quarantined behind the scope of his single-handed gesture pumping an obvious motion, pretending you were absorbed by the timetable schedule for the band inside your folder, appearing busy and decidedly not desperate to either be included or released from the task of being present, even when hot needles of sweat stressed the lack of consideration for your feelings with each sorry expression cast in your direction. You were his worker bee, paid to wait on him, and his teasing was rarely physical beyond an appropriate knock on your bicep for your attention in the off chance he didn’t snap his fingers at you like a dog. Or a tap on your knee under the kitchen table to get you to stand so he could leave; a light pressure which you could replicate days later with your own knuckles. His daily indifference was born of spite, and his drunken actions were bred of the same annoyance, bottle-deep perspective viewing you as the one who was ruining his night. Assuming he continued to push his tolerance with more drinks after you left the green room, his bold teasing made sense, you supposed, too unrestricted to deny himself the fun of riling you up.

The right thing to do would entail divorcing yourself from this conversation, and bringing up his conduct tomorrow. The wrong thing to do would involve taking another swig of his beer. The right thing to do would require reminding him of his meeting with Murray in the morning, who had a shorter fuse than anyone in the music industry. The wrong thing to do would include lobbing the bottle in his bed. The right thing to do would demand not giggling at Eddie’s poor reflexes when he made a bigger mess of the ale spilling on his blanket.

Eddie seized to catch it, but his hand-eye coordination was not up to par. He scrunched his eyes closed at the last second, jolting into a crunch with his chin tucked in an inordinate amount of wrinkles, and hands turned with his palms out, more keen on keeping the bottle from hitting his face than truly catching it. Which was a plausible excuse for his boot kicking your bunk in the process, and overall lack of poise as he brought his hands together after the beer had already bounced off his belly, and rolled where the bed dipped around him.

The wrong thing to do would consist of you running your knuckle along your shameless grin, prodding the flesh against your teeth as he dropped his head back and emptied the bottle onto his softly cradled pink tongue, thank you for sharing the drink, every last boozy drop.

Recognition curved the groove of his mouth.

Boys will be boys behavior.

“Here,” he said, rolling forward with his arm extended. The glass bottle in his hand drew your immediate wilt, but before you advanced too far into your frown, he alleviated your ire with the two fingers pointing at you, fluttering the damp paper between them. “You believe in this sorta shit, don’t you?” Despite the mock, you knew better than to refute his claim, not having the chops to sound convincing. Not that you really had faith in the mass produced slip of paper, but the affirmation that you’d find your soulmate one day produced a sense of ease before bed. Even when the word ‘successful’ was blurred from a drop of beer.

You placed the fortune in your notebook, feeling the ache of an unfinished entry.

At the front of the bus, the driver stamped up the stairs and gave the signal he was going to start moving soon, cuing the subliminal bedtime. The unbelonging technicians left, and the rest of Corroded Coffin stretched from the stiff cushions lining the booth seats around the table. As they picked up after themselves, Eddie untied the top set of his laces, and kicked his boots off, leaving them in the aisle along with the empty beer bottle.

He rolled onto the edge of the mattress to rip back his sheets and shoved his legs under, hesitating from drawing the curtain when he browsed the end of your bunk, where your feet moved under a pile of belongings placed atop your covers. “I’ll send your clothes to the dry cleaners tomorrow.”

Not an apology.

“You mean you’ll send me to the dry cleaners tomorrow,” you corrected, and his face smoothed flat from the accidental snub.

Harry moved between you two. Jeff divided the conversation further. Gareth cleaved whatever rapport you had with Eddie when he snorted at the two of you facing each other in your bunks, cuddled up like a sleepover.

Thinking harder as his peers climbed into their beds, Eddie relaxed onto his forearm supporting his upright posture, and sank into the jut of his shoulder, spinning his hand in the same flippant way the scrunch between his brows appealed to the snark loading in his throat. “I’ll just give you my wallet then, mm?” he offered, gravelly voice dusted with insincerity. “Then you can buy all the white blouses, and black skirts your pretty heart desires.”

Someone snorted again. It sounded like Gareth.

“And, uh,” Eddie endured as the plastic rings tinked across the metal bar, leaving a generous window visible from the top of his shoulders to his wild hair spread about his pillow palace, limp curtain hanging pitifully, “if you’d be so kind, don’t watch me sleep.”

“I won’t,” you said, and it sounded so sad. So soft, and faint, no bite behind it. No zest, no strength. Just confusion, though you understood the events leading to the pendulum swinging the other direction.

You closed your curtain, too.

The tour bus rumbled before sighing its characteristic hiss and chugging forward, pitching its cargo inside. You swayed in your nook. Laying on your back meant you experienced every roll of the tires cutting corners in the parking lot, but you weren’t ready to turn over yet. Your mind was swarming with cluttered thoughts. There were things you could be doing other than peering out at the depressing darkness where the dim ambient light didn’t pierce. You could brush your teeth, stow away your pocketbook before the pens rolled out, pick up the bottle before it tipped over and played pinball down the aisle all night. Your journal entry could be finished, you could sit up and read a book like Eddie, you could do some of those stretches for your hips and back. You could cry, you could count sheep for the next four hours and forty-seven minutes, you could cry some more; wet face wiped raw by the stiff sheets, and mouth buried in the unfeeling comforter to muffle the squeak of air leaving your lungs when you couldn’t suppress the emotions lodged in your throat any longer.

You could do many therapeutic things.

Instead, you pressed your knuckle over the center of your lower lip, replicating the pressure, and thought about the fortune.

[slut4thebroken]

Bully stepbro!Neil pt. 1

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Stepbro!Neil Lewis x reader

Summary | Your stepbrother likes to bully you… His all time favorite way to do that is with wedgies.

Warnings | Heavy on the humiliation lol, wedgies, lots of ‘em, that’s what the whole fic is lol, degradation, dubious consent, crying, pretend he’s actually strong enough to do this lmao

Words | 2.4 k

Notes | You guys fr need to stop encouraging me💀 Also I couldn’t decide on a gif lol since it’s not one full story but a bunch of little things, so I decided to put them at the beginning of each one :)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Give me the remote.” He said as he flopped down on the couch next to you. 

“No. My dad said I can use the tv today.” You hid the remote under the blanket, trying to keep it away from him. 

“Yeah well he’s not here is he?” You bit your lip and looked away from him with a scowl. “Give it.” He ordered, only making you more defiant. 

“No.” 

“Stop being a brat and just give it to me.” He snapped. 

“No!” You watched him let out a heavy breath through his nose as he clenched his jaw. Before you could even blink, he was lunging at you. “Stop it!” You yelled, trying to push him away. The blanket covering you and the remote fell off in the process and you kept struggling as he tried to over power you. 

Finally he grabbed your wrists and slammed you down onto the couch, making the remote fall to the floor. He let go of one of your wrists to reach for it and you brought your hand down to push at the arm holding himself up. Both of you grunted when he landed on top of you, but he kept reaching, so you used that to your advantage and rolled him off the couch, letting you have a chance to try and take it back. Part of your torso was off the couch as you tried to grab it and as soon as Neil got up from the floor, he was attacking again. 

What you didn’t expect was for his hands to go down toward your hips and grab your underwear. You screamed on the first hard pull and he did it again, this time pulling you off the couch. 

“What the hell?! Stop it!” You yelled, trying to crawl away from him, but he just got to his feet and stood over you, lightly stepping on your back to hold you in place as he got a better grip on your underwear. He started pulling again, lifting your hips off the ground as you screamed. The pain was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. The burning was so bad it brought tears to your eyes that didn’t take long to fall. 

“Neil, stop!” You cried out. “I’m sorry! You can have the remote,” 

“I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet.” He said simply. 

“I have! Please!” Your voice was cracking now that you were crying. He continued pulling, bouncing your hips up and down, each one forcing a sound of pain out of you. When he got bored, he yanked as hard as he could one final time, then suddenly let go. You dropped onto the floor with a startled grunt and watched him bend down to pick up the remote before sitting on the couch again. Your sobs quieted a little and you started sniffling, not getting up from the floor yet. 

“Can you go cry in the other room?” He huffed, getting annoyed. 

“That hurt, Neil.” You’ve never sounded so pathetic before. 

“Good. It was supposed to.” He shrugged with a small smirk. “Go put ice on it or something— I don’t really care. But at least just shut up so I can actually watch.” 

“What are you doing?” He asked as he walked into the room. 

“Just making some lunch.” You shrugged and he hummed in response. You waited for him to say something, but he just kept staring at you. After another minute, he finally spoke. 

“How long’s it been, huh?” He asked curiously, making your brows scrunch together in confusion. 

“What?” 

“You know… Since we’ve had the whole house to ourselves.” You stiffened, worrying about where he was going with this. 

“Oh… Yeah, a while I guess.” You said nervously. 

“Well, do you want to do anything? You don’t have any friends and all of my friends think you’re weird so we could just have some brother-sister bonding time.” He suggested teasingly. If you were facing him, he probably would’ve winked. 

“I was just gonna read and catch up on some homework.” You were really hoping he’d just let this go and leave you alone… but when has he ever passed up an opportunity to mess with you? 

“God,” he groaned exaggeratedly, “this is why you don’t have any friends. I mean seriously, who does homework on a Saturday night?” 

“What do you even want to do?” You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t stop. 

“I can think of one thing…” As soon as you realized what he meant, you turned around, finding him already walking toward you. 

“No, Neil— Neil, please don’t.” You whined, but it was already too late. He turned you around to face away from him, then immediately reached in the back of your pants for your underwear and yanked them up. You cried out when he pulled hard enough to lift you off the ground for a second. “Ow! Neil, stop!” You yelled, trying to push his hands away. 

“If you don’t want to be wedgied then you shouldn’t act like a nerd.” He snickered, pulling harder. “You're lucky I don’t feel like putting in the effort to get it around your shoulders or over your head.” He gave one last yank, much harder than all of the previous ones, then let you go. You had to cling to the counter for support so that you didn’t fall. Before walking out, he grabbed the plate of food you made for yourself. “Have fun with your homework, nerd.” 

You were reaching as high as you could, trying to get something from the top shelf of the pantry, but your fingers barely brushed the shelf. 

“Need a hand?” Before you could respond he was getting a good grip on your underwear and pulling them up until your feet barely touched the ground, making you scream. “Oh come on, you still have to reach for it.” He kept bouncing you, over and over again, never giving you a proper chance to try and grab it. Tears were welling up in your eyes from the burn now, but he didn’t stop. “Come on, nerd. Reach higher.” You heard the loud tearing before you felt the intense burn, then fell to the ground. “Holy shit!” He laughed loudly, holding your ripped underwear in his hands. “How much did that hurt, huh?” He smirked. 

“Just give it back and leave me alone.” Your frown only encouraged him. 

“No, I think I want a trophy.” He started stuffing your underwear in his pocket and you leaned up to reach for them, but he pushed you back down by your forehead. “Once you get whatever it was you were reaching for, make me something too. All of that pulling really took a lot out of me.” He started walking out, then stopped when he was in the doorway, giving you a condescending smile. “Oh and you might try using a stool, idiot.” 

You were sitting on the couch, reading and trying to relax, but you sighed loudly when you heard his footsteps growing closer. Neil walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch, throwing his feet up to lay down and almost kicking you in the process. 

“Clean my room by tonight. My mom told me to do it, but I don’t really feel like it.” He ordered casually, as he turned on the tv. The demand immediately made your blood boil— you’re sick of putting up with this. 

“No! You can clean it yourself.” You said firmly, making him turn his head to look at you. 

“Excuse me?” His tone made you falter. 

“I-I’m not your maid. You can clean your own room.” Your voice was far less confident this time. 

“Fine.” He shrugged with a smile, standing up and walking closer to you. When he grabbed you and started pulling you over the arm of the couch, you kicked and squirmed, but it was no use. As soon as your hips were resting on it, he grabbed your underwear and pulled as hard as he could. You screamed and tried to get out of his hold, but all he did was push his knee against your back to keep you against the outside of the couch, with your face almost on the floor. He let you continue kicking your legs— it barely did anything anyway. 

“Stop it! Neil!” You cried, screaming even louder. You wished at least one of your parents was home right now, but of course they just had to have a date night. 

“You need to watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking to me, nerd.” He punctuated his warning with another forceful tug. 

“Let go! You’re hurting me— let go!” You yelled as you flailed, trying to escape the pain. He ignored you and kept pulling until tears were burning your eyes. After a while, he let go and yanked you up by your hair, using the momentum to throw you backwards so you were now laying on the couch. When he sat on your chest you finally understood. “No— Neil, no! Please, don’t! I’m sorry!” Your begging fell on deaf ears. The first pull for the frontal wedgie had you screaming as your tears finally fell. 

“Stop it! Neil, I’m sorry— please stop!” You cried, voice breaking with the tears. 

“Do you ever stop talking?” He asked with annoyance and you didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything. He continued with that until you were sobbing and incoherently begging him to stop. When he stood up, you thought he was finally giving you mercy, but that hope was gone in an instant as he pulled you to your feet. He grabbed the leg holes on either side of your hips and started bouncing you up and down, stretching it more and more as you cried loudly, pleading with him to stop. You’ve never felt pain like this before in your entire life. 

Once your underwear was level with your chest, he maneuvered your arms through each leg hole and pulled harder, stretching them even more so they were resting on your shoulders. When he dragged you by your hair, your crying got even more intense. He finally landed at the door to his room and shoved you inside. 

“I’m gonna watch you clean my room and you’re not going to take that off unless you want me to hang you up somewhere overnight.” 

“Neil, I’m sorry.” You whimpered through the sobs. “I’ll clean it— just please,” Neil looked around the room, picking up the first thing he saw; a pair of boxers on his bed. You had no idea if they were clean or dirty and you also had no idea what he was planning on doing with them, so you took a step away from him in fear. 

“Open up, nerd.” He walked toward you and you staggered back even more, finally understanding his plan. 

“No— I won’t say anything. Or cry. I’ll be quiet.” You begged, letting out a choked sob when he forced the fabric in your mouth anyway. He stuffed all of it past your lips, then gave you a light slap on your cheek, making you flinch. 

“Start cleaning.” He smirked, walking back over to the bed and laying propped up by his pillows, relaxing as if he was getting ready to watch his favorite film. 

You knew Neil liked films, especially old ones… but you just found them so incredibly boring. You do your best to get out of watching any with him, but this time it didn’t work. So you were sitting next to him on the couch, trying to pay attention. All the film succeeded in doing was making you even more sleepy. 

“Are you even watching?” Your eyes snapped open as soon as you heard him. 

“Y-yes. I am— I’m watching.” He scoffed, clearly not believing you. “I’m sorry, Neil. It won’t happen again.” 

“No. You know what? If you don’t want to watch, that’s fine by me.” Your stomach was already churning at just the thought of where he was going with this. Before you even had time to react he was pushing you down onto the couch and sitting on your upper back with your arms raised by your head, unable to bring them down. 

“I said I’m sorry!” You started kicking and trying to buck him off of you, but he was undeterred. “Neil, please!” Your words cut off into a scream when he used all of his strength to pull your underwear up. No matter how hard you cried or struggled, he kept pulling, leaning back and using his body weight to get more force. He only stopped once he needed more room. 

Making sure he was holding down your arms with his legs, he shuffled backwards over your head until he was sitting on the couch close enough where if you lifted your head, your face would be inches from his crotch. As soon as you tried squirming away, he yanked on your underwear again, making your body go limp from the pain as you cried. You kept your face buried in the couch, not able to move it anywhere else, but it was getting hard to breathe with how much you were sobbing. You kicked and screamed uselessly, unable to do anything other than take it. 

“Lift your head, nerd.” You kept your face firmly against the couch, which prompted him to roughly fist your hair and yank your head back. He shuffled forward because he knew that once he let go of your hair, you wouldn’t be able to put your head back down without it going in his crotch. He kept pulling and you kept crying, your sounds much louder now. 

Without any warning, he pulled hard enough to lift your hips off the couch, then put the fabric over your head, covering your forehead and eyes. 

“Stop it!” You cried, trying to pull your hands out from under him, but he wouldn’t budge. “Take it off! Please take it off,” Your sobbing intensified, making him laugh loudly. 

“You didn’t want to watch. Now you don’t have to.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. 

“I’m sorry! Please take it off— it hurts!” 

“What hurts? This?” He leaned over you and you screamed again when his crotch pushed against your face, forcing you to smell his musk. The scream only got louder when he grabbed the underwear from above your lower back and pulled a few times. After a few seconds, he sat back down on the couch and resumed the movie. “Don’t be such a cry baby.” 

Part 2

(Part 2 will be a lil smuttier btw 😼)

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @theoraekenslover @kaorisakamotofan @scorpiussage @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @aviamulier @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @xxorazz @halleysc6met @crunchsworld @babaohhhriley @deceitfuldevout @gentyleman @lorelais-world @shroombloom-rry @pinguwrites @thatonesinglefriend @bernelflo @milktert @nyxxie.pooh @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @milkytomura @bigbossbabysworld @sheisthedxrkness @hanawrites404 @ll4n4 @madeinuk @hanawrites404

[fyonahmacnally]

Eight Years Ago, Cambridge, MA…

Stormy blue meets turbulent green. Palpable tension crackles in the air as things escalate faster than usual. Pent up anger and resentment boil over like a volcanic eruption of past transgressions never spoken. They hurl sharpened words at one another, daggers cutting through the fragile skin of the relationship they’ve forged for four years. It’s been building, both of them know it has, each stewing in the silent hurricane of thoughts swirling inside them. It was an inevitable train wreck set on course six months ago when Lena decided to stay in Cambridge instead moving to National City with Kara as planned. 

Four years at MIT together, two as best friends, two as lovers and living together. They talk about everything. At least that’s what Kara thought until that moment six months ago when Lena dropped her bombshell. Now, they’re standing in the middle of their apartment screaming at one another like they’re sworn enemies instead of longtime lovers. Each of them tossing insults and barbs at one another with complete abandon. Sharing spiteful disdain in the way they used to share I love you’s. 

Neither of them stop to think about what they are saying or the damage they are causing. It’s heated. It’s cruel. Everything is going down in flames and neither of them seem to care. Kara yells about Lena’s horrendous family and how she’s behaving just like them. Lena screams about Kara’s naivete and obliviousness. They cut one another to the bone with words neither of them ever thought they’d speak to each other. It’s an emotional bloodbath drowning the remnants of their relationship in the dripping, viscous venom spewing from their lips.

Eventually, the room is silent. The only sound is the heaving breath of the two women glaring at one another, tears falling. It’s a moment frozen in time, one that neither of them will ever forget. 

It’s Kara who finally storms out. Since she’s finished packing all her things for the move anyway, she reasons that getting an early start on her drive will get her to National City faster. Plus, she desperately needs to get away from the demise of her relationship. Her once homey and warm apartment feels cold and foreign. The woman in front of her is suddenly a stranger. Her heart is decimated, shattered into a million pieces. She thought for sure Lena was it for her. Her other half, her person. Apparently not. Everything they’ve built lies broken and dead at her feet as she grabs her final piece of luggage. 

Dragging the bag behind her, she pauses at the door. Hanging her head as tears glide across her skin, she whispers, “I will always love you. I just thought you felt the same.” Taking a deep breath, she straightens her back and opens the door. She keeps her eyes forward and her jaw set. If she looks back now, she’ll change her mind and it’s too late for that.

Lena stares at the closed door, her mouth hanging open, arms wrapped tightly around herself, and tears streaming from her eyes. She has no doubt she just made the biggest mistake of her life, but she’s frozen in place. Everything happened so fast, it’s a blur. She’s utterly confused as to how she has managed to destroy the longest, healthiest relationship she’s ever had. She’s staying at MIT to get her doctorate, but had no intention of breaking things off with Kara. In her mind, they’d make it work. They always said they were stronger together and could tackle anything as long as they had each other. Sure, she probably should have spoken to her girlfriend when she applied to the PhD program, but her anxiety got the best of her and she waited until everything was in place. 

Now, here she stands watching the love of her life walk away. She’s paralyzed, stuck in the spot where her life fell apart. Her eyes seem to suddenly refocus and time speeds back up. Unsure of how much time has passed, she is suddenly hit with the reality of what just happened and bolts out the door. Kara. She has to catch Kara. Just as she rushes out the front of the building and onto the sidewalk, she can see the taillights fading from sight. Her whole world just drove away in a moving truck. Without her. Her body acts before her mind does, she runs back up the stairs. Swinging the door to the apartment open, she snatches her phone up to call Kara. Voicemail. She calls again. Same thing. 

And so it goes for hours, then days, then weeks. Lena even tries to call Alex, to no avail. It’s the same silence. Eventually, she resigns herself to the fact she fucked up and she has to live with it. When three months turns to six and six into twelve, she finally puts the pictures away. She lost her chance at happiness and love. Now she needs to put all of her focus and energy into school. It’s the only thing that gets her through the rest of her masters and PhD programs. 

Present Day, New York City…

Six more years in school and two degrees later, Lena has moved forward in her life. Well, as much as she can. She hasn’t had any real relationship to speak of since she and Kara split up. A few flings and one night stands, but nothing serious. It’s hard when she hasn’t stopped loving the bubbly blonde that stole her heart all those years ago. Deep down, she knows she’ll never love anyone the way she did…does Kara. 

Her Kara. Or she used to be.

It’s been two years since she began working for Spheerical Tech & Pharmaceuticals as their head of research and development. It’s grueling and exhausting. Not that it matters because she doesn’t have a life outside of work. She spends half her time in New York in her lab and the other half split between Cambridge and National City with occasional trips to London. She visits each of their lab sites at least once a year, sometimes more. Most of the time she volunteers for the trips. Besides, no one is at home to miss her. Not even a pet. No one is around to call before she goes to bed. It’s pretty sad when she really thinks about it. 

When her boss and longtime friend, Jack, first mentioned needing her to manage the National City lab, she was hesitant. She didn’t want to risk running into Kara at all. Sure, it’s a large, populated city and the odds are slim, but Kara doesn’t need her showing up and ruining the life she has now. She knows her ex-girlfriend made a name for herself and became a well-respected investigative and scientific tech journalist. The woman is absolutely one of the best and most accomplished journalists of their generation. In fact, Lena has every article the blonde has ever published. Further, unbeknownst to Kara, Lena was there when she won her first Pulitzer three years ago. She stayed in the back of the crowd and left before anyone knew she was ever there. 

Even now, eight years later, Kara is never far from her mind. Of course, she stopped calling Kara years ago, she has no idea if she even has the same number anymore. Lena kept hers, the same number all these years. Kara will probably never use it. She hasn’t yet, but at least it’s there if she ever tries. 

She has always genuinely wanted Kara to be happy. No matter what it looks like, that’s what she wants for her. Even after all this time, the one thing Lena held onto, the one thing she does every year, is send an email on the anniversary of their first date. She has no idea if Kara reads them since she has never responded, but she still sends them. Never any words. Always just a simple heart emoji. Nothing else.

It’s why she’s thinking about their fight and the demise of their relationship right now. There’s roughly three months until the anniversary of their first date. Ten years ago, they went on their first date. A long, wistful sigh escapes her lips. They met at the station across from campus in Cambridge and took the train to Boston to spend the day. She remembers when their eyes met across the terminal, there was an eruption of butterflies in her belly. It was as if she could finally breathe. What she wouldn’t give to see those cerulean eyes again. 

That’s when she gets an idea. Probably the worst one she’s had since she let Kara walk out the apartment door. It’s probably fruitless. She’s pretty sure Kara has long since forgotten her, especially after the hurt she caused. But, what if, after all this time, Kara still feels the same? 

One more time and then she’ll give up. For good.

Present Day, National City…

Kara is having a shit day. She spilled coffee on her favorite shirt, broke her favorite pen, and missed her first deadline in years. Then, Alex canceled sister’s night because of some emergency at the hospital. And fine, she gets it, Alex is a doctor, blah blah blah. Still doesn’t mean she has to be okay with it. Needless to say, she’s ready to go home to curl up with her favorite show and some ice cream. If she could leave right now she’d pack up and be gone in an instant. Unfortunately, she still has three more hours left. She sighs an exasperated sigh and drops her forehead onto her desk. 

It’s moments like this when she thinks about Lena. Her ex-girlfriend had a way with brightening the worst of her days. Their nights together, the fun they had, the uninhibited comfort her presence provided. She hasn’t found that comfort in anyone since. The closeness and trust the two of them had was something she’s sure she’ll never have again. She’s tried, she really has. Several times over the years, with men and women alike. No one ever compares to the woman she reluctantly admits she still loves. 

There are so many things about their last fight she wishes she could take back. So many things she regrets. It still makes her cringe when she thinks about the spiteful things she said to Lena and the hurt she saw in her favorite green eyes. The biggest regret from that day is walking away without talking things out. She knows neither of them behaved very rationally the last six months of their relationship. It eventually culminated in their massive blow-up followed by their sudden break-up. Unfortunately, it isn’t something she can take back or undo.

Actually, scratch that, her biggest regret from back then is ignoring Lena’s calls and letting Alex talk her into blocking her number. There have been so many times over the years when she wanted to reach out, to hear that smooth, saccharine voice again. It seems there’s a little voice in her head always preventing her from doing it. The nagging little voice repeats things like ‘you deserve better than her’ and ‘she doesn’t care or think about you anymore’. The voice sounds an awful lot like Alex. As much as she loves her sister, her overprotective actions probably cost her any chance at reconciliation. Given how long it’s been, she’s almost certain of it. 

She puffs out a frustrated breath. This happens every single time she thinks about Lena. She remembers the chance she could have taken, the window of time in which she might have been able to fix things. Now, there’s no way, it’s too late. Her eyes close briefly before she lifts her head up from her desk. Blue eyes settle on the phone sitting next to her keyboard and her lips twitch upward in a wistful smile. 

Pulling the device toward her, she navigates to the one file she keeps locked and protected. It’s an obscure folder with a few pictures of her and Lena. Her finger swipes through the pictures and her eyes tear up before she quickly closes it. She navigates to her contacts where her weepy eyes scan over the place where Lena’s phone number still sits. Seven numbers and her favorite name casually staring up at her. A combination of letters and numbers she could never get rid of. 

A shaky hand makes its way to her glasses, pulling them off to wipe away the errant tears that managed to escape. Her mind wanders again. Would the number still work if she tried to call? Probably not. Surely Lena changed her number and moved on, right? She’s intelligent, successful, and a goddess of a woman. The amount of people likely knocking on her door for dates is innumerable. Certainly more options than Kara has.

She leans back in her chair with her head tilted toward the ceiling and runs her hands down her face. Silently chastising herself for letting her mind drift, it doesn’t do any good to think about it. Not anymore. She doesn’t even know where Lena lives or what she’s doing. Last she heard, Lena is an executive with Spheerical. Possibly one of the chief executives? One thing she’s sure of, Lena gets photographed in New York and London several times a year. So, she could live in either place for all Kara knows.

Kara is very aware there’s a branch of the company here in National City as well. It’s a building she passes almost every day. She’s fairly certain she would know if the beautiful genius was living in her city. There’s no way they wouldn’t have at least been in the same places. Given her work in science and technology for CatCo and Lena’s involvement in research and development, Kara would know. RIght? In fact, she’s interviewed a few of the staff scientists at the National City branch. If Lena was working there, she’d know. Wouldn’t she? 

Another deep sigh forces itself out of her throat as she shakes her head. It’s a motion made in a futile attempt to remove any thoughts of her lost love from her mind. At this rate, it won’t ever happen. She’s doomed to carry her love for Lena to her grave. It’s been eight years and her heart still skips a beat when she sees a raven-haired woman resembling her ex-girlfriend. Her chest still aches when she looks at pictures or sifts through her memories. Her brain still runs what if scenarios for any possible conversation they might have should they ever meet again.

While she knows it’s unlikely, she can’t help but think about the possibility Lena might still love her too. She’s sure it’s a false hope, but what if? It’s crossed her mind countless times. Honestly, she’s surprised Lena didn’t reach out via email when her calls didn’t go through. It’s one of the reasons she’s so sure her ex has moved on. The Lena she knew would have exhausted all avenues. Maybe she should try to text her old number. If it’s someone else’s number, then at least she’d know. 

She really needs to talk to Alex. Her sister is the only one that can talk her out of doing something rash.

--

Lena glares at the blinking cursor in front of her. She spent the better part of two months convincing Jack she needs to be in National City for the month of October. He was skeptical at first, but she managed to backlog enough work to justify it. Instincts tell her Jack still doesn’t believe her, but she’s here and got her way. That’s what matters at this point. 

Now, here she sits inside her office at Spheerical, a few scant blocks from CatCo. The thought makes her stomach do somersaults, knowing how close she currently is to Kara. A long sigh presses between her lips as she continues to stare at her screen. The email in front of her has been written and rewritten so many times she lost count. Her anxiety is at peak levels and she still isn’t sure this is a good idea. But really, what does she have to lose at this point? Her dignity and pride walked out the apartment door with Kara eight years ago. 

A shaky breath billows from her mouth as she drops her head into her hands. She’s been working on this email for two weeks. Well, longer if she counts the amount of time she spent drafting it in her head. In truth, it began to form almost three months ago when she was thinking about the blonde goddess living rent free in her mind. Again, it’s probably the worst idea she’s had since that fateful day. The day Lena turned her entire world upside down. 

She chuckles and shakes her head, resting her hands back on her desk. “Come on, Lena. It’s no big deal. You’re just asking the woman you haven’t spoken to in eight years to meet you at a park.” Another humorless laugh leaves her throat as she realizes she’s talking to herself. “I’ve resorted to giving myself verbal pep talks now. I mean, I guess that goes along with the insanity of trying to convince my ex-girlfriend to meet with me seemingly out of the blue. On the anniversary of our first date, no less. What have I become?”

Her finger lands on the backspace key as she starts the email again for the umpteenth time. It’s her final hail mary. Her last attempt at connecting with the woman that still owns her heart. Some part of her desperately hopes Kara will show up and they can, at the very least, talk things out and get the closure they never had. Her heart wants Kara to feel the same way she does. She wants a second chance, but she’s a realist. The odds of that are slim to none. Her rational side and the little voice in her head sounding eerily similar to Lillian’s, says her chance has passed and there isn’t anything she can do to change it. 

But, there’s a tiny little kernel of hope holding out. That’s what she’s holding onto. 

“Alright, Luthor. You have to get your shit together. Tomorrow is the day so it’s now or never.” She reads over the email one final time before scheduling it to send at midnight or 12:01 a.m to be exact. October 16th - the anniversary of their first date. She sighs and hopes for the best. Nothing about this goes beyond her usual one email per year. This one just has words attached to it. A simple request really. She’s not anxious about it at all. 

Not. One. Bit.

Her office suddenly feels too small and too quiet. With her thoughts racing at jet speed inside her skull, she bolts from her desk and makes her way down to the labs. Her brain needs a distraction or she’s going to have a panic attack and change her mind. Changing her mind is the last thing she wants. She’s loved Kara for ten years. The woman owns her heart, something that will likely never change.

So, she needs to distract herself for the next two days and hope the blonde shows up tomorrow evening. What could go wrong?

--

October 16th - the day Kara dreads every year. The anniversary of their first date. One would think after all these years, she wouldn’t remember it or care, but she does. She remembers everything and always has. The first three years were hard. She took off work and shut the world out. After those rough years, it kind of got better. Now, she does the best she can. Sometimes, she leaves early and spends the day with her favorite movie and ice cream. This year is shaping up to be one of those years. She has to take care of a few things this morning, but there is a pint of Ben & Jerry’s calling her name. She’ll be on her couch and stuffing her face with some Moose Tracks by 3:00 p.m. 

Most of her day is uneventful. She even manages to get through it without scrolling through her folder of old pictures. Well, more than a few times. It counts. It was less than last year, give her a break. Lena is beautiful, amazing, and a goddess on Earth. No one can blame her for reminiscing on how it felt to hold her and just bask in her presence. The feeling of soft pale skin against her own…

A long, frustrated sigh followed by a growl of irritation crawls from her throat. Now is certainly not the time to be thinking about Lena’s skin against hers. Not to mention all the other very vivid and inconvenient images running rampant in her mind. Kara wearily shakes her head in an futile attempt at erasing the memories flashing across her mind’s eye. This happens every year on this day. She combs through the memories of the two years they spent as lovers, even the two years they were friends beforehand are filled with moments imprinted on her skin.

Another glance at the clock on the wall across the bullpen tells her she still has another hour before she can safely leave without causing any eyebrows to raise. She decides to plunge herself into some research she has to do for an upcoming piece on Spheerical. Fortunately, she gets lost in the details and the next time she looks up, it’s time to head out to lunch and then to her couch. 

Just as she’s walking out of the building, her phone vibrates. A big smile stretches across her face when she sees Alex calling. “Hey, Alex!” She hurries across the sidewalk and across the road, dodging people as she goes. “Perfect timing. I’m just heading to Noonan’s to grab lunch. Are you still coming over later for sister’s night?”

“Yes, dork. Don’t we always spend this night together?” Alex huffs, rolling her eyes at her sister. “I’m leaving the hospital now, but I have to go by my apartment first. Do you need me to bring anything?”

Kara hums in thought, pausing outside the entrance to Noonan’s before shaking her head. “Nah. I have ice cream and snacks already. Just bring whatever alcohol you want if you plan to drink. You know I only have the fruity stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you in an hour or so.” Alex says, a smile evident in her voice. “Love you, dork.”

Chuckling, Kara shakes her head and smiles. “Be careful. Love you, too.” She ends the call and steps inside, still laughing at her sister’s antics. 

After deciding to eat her lunch on a park bench, she catches the bus home. Happy to finally be away from CatCo and the stresses of work, her mind drifts to Lena again. The last couple of years, her mind has conjured images of what their lives would be like if they were still together. Marriage, a house, and sometimes a baby. It’s not always the same, but they’re always married. Something Kara always thought would happen once they graduated and got settled in National City. 

She’s shaken out of her daydreams by the subtle stop of the bus and people around her standing. A sorrowful sigh releases as she stands to exit as well. Her mind seems to enjoy torturing her with things she can’t have, made worse this day every year. As she steps off the bus, she spots her sister standing in front of her building and a smile replaces the frown she’s sure was there.

The two sisters make their way up the stairs and into Kara’s loft. They settle in to watch the movie they always watch on this day, Hocus Pocus. By the time they finish watching the movie and polish off their ice cream, it’s nearing dinner time. Alex orders pizza and potstickers and they snuggle back into the couch to wait, a random show playing in the background. 

Alex eyes Kara carefully, brown eyes scanning her sister’s face. She can see the pain and sadness in the normally sparkling sapphire eyes. Instead of pushing the blonde to talk, she watches and waits, knowing Kara will eventually open up to her. It usually takes a few minutes, but she knows her sister will start spilling her feelings.

“I really miss her, Alex.” Kara says, tears welling in her stormy blue eyes. “Some days it feels like everything just happened. It feels so raw and so fresh. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop loving her. My heart won’t let me. No matter how much convincing my mind does, my heart won’t let her go.” Two glittering tears slither between her eyelids and drip onto her shirt.

The redhead sighs, slides her arms around her younger sister, and pulls her close. “I know, kiddo. I wish there was something I could say or do to make it easier for you.” She rests her head on top of Kara’s as they sit in silence for a few minutes. Their bubble bursts when there is a knock on the door. “That’s probably the food, I’ll get it.”

Alex bounds over to the door while Kara leans back on the couch, head resting against the cushion and face pointed to the ceiling. She wipes away the now drying tears, willing the rest to stop their descent down her cheeks. Her body remains still even after Alex drops the food onto the table. When she finally looks down, it’s to check the time on her watch. 6:43 p.m. 

“We’d been on our date for about an hour by now. It was one of the best nights of my life, Alex. We walked through the park, the leaves changing all around us, and the sun going down. Each of us had a cup of hot chocolate in one hand while holding hands with the other.” Kara wistfully smiles as she remembers how she felt. “It was almost magical, we talked just like we always did, but it was…more. It was like we connected on a new level, like something clicked into place. Like…coming home.”

She looks up at Alex, tears streaming down her face, bottom lip trembling. “Why does it still hurt so much? I’ve spent the last eight years feeling like part of me is missing. Why won’t it stop?” An anguished look twists Alex’s face as she pulls her baby sister back into her arms. They sit and silently rock, waiting for Kara’s tears to subside.

--

Lena takes a deep breath as she sits on the park bench just inside the park. She twists the key and keychain in her hand with a smile. It’s the only thing she still has that was Kara’s. It’s a dorky keychain she bought the blonde on their first date. A pewter medallion with her name engraved across the front and the Boston skyline behind it. It’s not worth anything, but it’s one of her most prized possessions. Kara’s apartment key is still attached to it along with a woven bracelet. After the blonde walked out that day, Lena saw it laying on the counter and hasn’t parted with it since. She keeps it in her pocket and has it on her everyday. 

Glancing at her watch, she starts to feel a sense of dread bubble in the bottom of her stomach. It’s pushing 7:30 now and she asked Kara to meet her here at 7:00. She told herself she wouldn’t wait longer than an hour. Knowing the reporter for four years and living with her for two, she knows her ex-girlfriend can lose track of time. Lena’s hands continue to fidget with the keychain, running the pad of her fingers across the raised letters. Verdant eyes watch countless couples and kids pass by, but none of them are the figure she so desperately wants to see. 

A trembling sigh rushes across her now chapped lips, she can feel the stinging of tears in her eyes so she bites her cheek to stop them from falling. A glance at her phone shows she’s been here for much longer than the self-allotted time frame. Her watch face mocks her with a time of 8:07 p.m. Still no sign of Kara. Lena glances around one more time to make sure she didn’t overlook anything as she checks her phone to make sure she did say 7:00 p.m. in her email. Knots continue to tie themselves together in her stomach. 

She decides she can wait just a little longer.

So she does. She sits stoically on the bench, fidgeting with a relic from a relationship that ended almost a decade ago. A relationship that will officially be dead and buried after tonight. Unless a miracle happens and Kara appears in front of her, it’s pretty evident that her hope was for naught. The woman that holds her heart released it long ago. She’s doomed to love someone who doesn’t love her back.

At 8:32 p.m. on October 16th, Kara Danvers broke her heart for the first and last time. She broke her own heart eight years ago, it only seems fitting that it’s irreparably shattered by the woman that will own it for eternity. 

Gathering the strength to stand from the bench is a lot harder than she anticipates. Lena ends up having to pause before she can finally stand to walk back to her car. She does manage to keep the tears at bay until she reaches the car and is safely inside. That’s when she releases the sob that has been building in her gut for hours. The sounds and tears coming from her body are louder and heavier than anything she’s experienced in her life. With the trauma she’s been through, that is saying a lot. 

When she finally manages to stifle the tears enough to drive back to her hotel, she makes her way back to her room as discreetly and quietly as she can. She refuses to break down completely until she is in the privacy of her own room. By some saving grace, she steps into her room, closes the door, and immediately collapses on the floor. She must have eventually cried herself to sleep because she woke up in the same place two hours later. 

Peeling herself off the floor, she stripped off her clothes and fell into bed, makeup and all. The rest of the world would have to wait.

--

“I can’t answer that, kiddo. It hurts because you still love her and never got closure.” Alex says, watching her sister’s face contort from an invisible pain. “Come on, Kara. At least eat something. Please.” 

“How the hell am I supposed to eat right now, Alex? How?!” Kara screeches, her voice rough from tears and emotion. “I shouldn’t have blocked her number. I should have just called her, Alex. Why didn’t she email me or write me a letter? Something!”

Another gut-wrenching sob rips from her chest, her body heaving with each one as it wracks from her lungs. Alex’s gut twists with guilt as she wrestles with the words sitting like ash on her tongue. Watching her sister writhe in the pain of heartache that she might have contributed to is eating her alive. When her baby sister’s distraught blue eyes land on hers, the decision is made. She has to confess.

“Umm, K-Kara. D-Do you have your laptop close by?” Alex asks, looking around the living room, but not seeing the device. “Can you tell me where it is?” Her eyes settle on the heartbroken blonde and take in the stretched out arm pointing across the room to the dining table. She gently squeezes her sister’s shoulder and makes her way over to grab it. Taking a brief moment to steel herself for what she’s about to do, she takes a deep breath and turns to face the truth.

Kara tracks her sister’s movement, a little confused by her actions, and curious to know why she’s behaving like a scared dog. She sniffles, wiping her nose with the tissue her sister hands her. “What’s going on? Why are you acting so strange, Alex?” Her eyes scan the laptop now sitting on the couch between them. “Why are you opening my laptop? What’s going on?”

An audible gulp can be heard coming from the redhead’s throat. Brown eyes bounce between teary cerulean. “Eight years ago, when you called me crying hysterically about what happened, I got you to block Lena’s number. I knew she wouldn’t give up trying to contact you so…” Another hard swallow and a shaky inhale are the only two sounds Alex can hear at that moment. Everything else is drowned by the sudden ringing in her ears. 

“What, Alex? So, what?” Kara says, a wave of nausea and anxiety builds in the pit of her stomach. “Alex. Please finish what you were saying.” Blue eyes filled with turmoil scan the redhead’s face, searching for something, a clue. There’s nothing, but fear and guilt resting on her usually stoic sister’s face. The look does nothing to ease the feeling gathering in Kara’s gut.

Alex opens the browser and pulls up Kara’s email. She clicks around a few times and Kara watches as her face falls. Her sister’s face goes white and tears gather in her eyes. A panicked and grief-stricken look settles on her sister’s face before she opens and closes her mouth a few times. Another deep breath. She sits the device in Kara’s lap before clearing her throat and dropping her hands into her own. “I knew Lena wouldn’t give up trying to contact you and I was so pissed at how much she hurt you, Kara. While you were driving to National City, I, umm…” A shaky breath, another hard swallow. “I blocked Lena’s email address so you wouldn’t get anything she sent to you.” The last part of her sentence is so quiet Kara almost doesn’t hear it. 

Almost.

When Alex finally looks up, she can see her sister clicking through emails with tears streaming down her face. “Alex…” It’s a broken whisper, barely audible. As blue eyes finally look up, there is an anger unlike anything the redhead has seen before. “Get out. I want you out of my apartment right now. Do not talk to me right now, Alex. Just get the fuck out of my apartment. Now.”

It’s not loud. It’s not harsh. It’s broken and it rips Alex’s heart in two. She silently stands, gathers her jacket and keys before briefly pausing at the door. “I’m really sorry, Kara. I love you and I’m really, really sorry.”

There’s nothing but silence before the door softly closes. Once Kara is alone, she sifts through the emails. All of the things she missed over the last eight years. Lena tried. She tried to reach out, to fix things and Kara didn’t know. There were at least ten emails from the first few months after the breakup. A few more scattered across the first year and then one per year with a simple heart on the anniversary of their first date. Lena probably thinks…

Then, she sees the last email received. Dated today, sent early that morning. 

To: KMDanvers922@wiremail.com

From: LKLuthor94@wiremail.com

Date: October 16, 2023, 12:01 a.m.

Subject: One Last Time

Hi Kara,

I remember everything. Your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes sparkle when you get excited. Every October 16th after you left Cambridge, I went to our park and retraced our steps. It was never the same without you. Of course it wasn’t, but it always made me feel closer to you. 

You made me so happy, Darling. Being with you felt like being home, like I was finally whole and where I was meant to be. Losing you was the hardest thing I’ve ever faced. Even now, I feel like part of me is missing. You took part of me with you that day, Kara. I haven’t been the same since.

I know it’s been eight years and I know it’s a shot in the dark, but I have to try one last time to reach you. I’m in National City. If you want to and are available, I’d like to see you again. Meet me inside Centennial Park at 7:00 p.m. tonight. There’s a bench about one hundred feet from the gate to the left next to the footpath. I’ll be there until 8:00 p.m.

If you don’t show, I’ll understand. Just know I remember everything and I’ll always remember you.

All my love,

Lena 

Kara’s eyes go wide. She scrambles up from her couch, looking down at her watch and almost dropping her laptop. Shoving the laptop onto the coffee table, she steps into her shoes, snatches her keys and jacket, and bolts down the stairs. She doesn’t have a car and the park is at least a thirty minute walk, but the bus would be just as long. Without another option, she starts running.

It was nearly 8:17 p.m. when she left her apartment so the odds of Lena still being there were slim, but she had to try. Her legs moved before her brain caught up, she ran as fast as she could. She’s in pretty good shape, she runs almost every morning and does a lot of walking around the city, but tonight it feels like she’s running through sludge. Kara rounds the corner into the park at 8:43. While she managed to make the run in twenty-six minutes, she can already tell she’s too late. 

The bench is vacant and Kara’s heart falls. She plops herself onto the metal and huffs in frustration. As her hand settles on the bench beside her, she feels something under her palm. Her fingers wrap around it and she brings it closer. It’s some sort of woven bracelet. Upon closer inspection, she immediately recognizes it. It’s one of the silly bracelets she made for her and Lena when they first became friends. They each had one. Lena wore hers, but Kara kept hers on the keychain Lena bought her on their first date alongside her apartment key. She pulls out her phone to shine a light on it. Sure enough, it’s the one she kept on her keychain. Right there in the middle of the bracelet are their initials. 

Lena really had been here and Kara missed her chance. She sat there for a while. She’s not sure how long, but eventually she walks back toward her apartment. Without a care for the time of night or for how long it would take, she dejectedly makes her way home. Another chance stolen, her second chance lost.

--

Lena didn’t go into the office the following day. She couldn’t bring herself to face anyone. Her eyes were certainly swollen and her mind was in no condition to function properly. She sighs and rolls over in bed, her hand automatically reaching for the keychain she plays with every morning. As her hand settles on it, she pauses, something is missing.

Her body bolts upright, feet swinging to the side of the bed and hitting the floor with a thud. She snatches the prized item up and stares at it in disbelief. The bracelet that has been on the keychain for close to a decade is missing. It has to be at the park, she thinks. It must have fallen off when she was toying with it on the bench last night. She blows out a harsh breath. “Of course.” She mumbles to herself. “That would fit with the rest of my evening. Why not top it off with losing the bracelet?”

With that, she heads to the shower to remove yesterday’s makeup and grime. Maybe it will make her feel a little more human. Maybe it won’t. Either way, she has to get up and get cleaned up.

Across the city, Kara is suffering a similar fate. She wakes up feeling hungover. Emotionally, physically, and mentally, she is exhausted. After a phone call to her boss, she plans to work from home for the day. She’s not sure how much work she’ll get done, but at least she doesn’t have to face any people. At the very least, she can finish up the research for her upcoming interview with one of the lead scientists at Spheerical. The interview isn’t until Friday, so she still has plenty of time. 

The thought stops her in her tracks. She knows Lena is in National City, so the chance of her seeing the beautiful genius is higher than it’s ever been. While she wants to see the woman, she also doesn’t know if she’s truly prepared for it. With this in mind, she pulls up the email from her boss to double-check the name of the scientist she’s scheduled to interview. It’s the same woman she interviewed previously, Felicity Smoak. The knowledge puts her at ease and she gets back to her research and preparation. 

Both women spend the rest of the week trudging through the remainder of their daily grind with the enthusiasm of a doorknob. Neither of them have recovered from their experience on Monday and neither are really in the headspace to figure out how to move on from it. Lena is still in an immense amount of pain knowing the last spark of hope she had is well and truly doused. Kara is so angry with her sister and herself that she can’t think of anything else. It hasn’t yet occurred to her that she knows Lena’s email address is active and she could respond to the email and explain her absence. 

It seems even after eight years, they still haven’t gotten their heads out of their asses. 

--

After arriving at her office as usual, Lena spends her Friday morning reviewing budgets, new project proposals, and current project status reports. It’s the mundane part of her job as head of R & D that makes her want to pluck her eyeballs out. She’s just about to move on to the next proposal when her phone intercom buzzes to life.

“Miss Luthor…” The smooth voice of her assistant, Jess, echoes through the speaker.

“Yes, Jess. Go ahead.” Lena says, casually closing the proposal and grabbing the next one. 

“Sorry to disturb you, Miss Luthor. Your lunch is here. Also, Miss Smoak asked if you can cover a meeting for her this afternoon.” Jess says, the sound of typing evident in the background. 

Lena shifts in her chair. Felicity is the R & D manager for the National City branch and typically doesn’t ask her to handle anything unless it’s absolutely necessary. “What type of meeting and what time, Jess? I already have a meeting at 2:00.”

Jess sighs, she knows Lena’s schedule inside out so she is aware of the meeting, but keeps that information to herself. “She said It’s an interview for a science journal or magazine about the upcoming tech and prosthetic release. Miss Smoak had an emergency and won’t be here to cover it.” More sounds of muffled typing sound over the line. “The scheduled interview isn’t until 3:30 so it won’t impact your schedule in any way.”

“Thanks, Jess. Can you bring my lunch in? I’ll just have it at my desk.” She rubs the back of her neck, all of the tension and emotion from the week seems to have settled there. “Let me know when my two o’clock arrives.”

She spends the next two hours reviewing the rest of the documents and doing her best not to think about Kara and the sting of knowing all hope is lost. Her chest has been filled with a dull ache since the moment she realized the woman wasn’t coming. To say she’s used to it would be a lie, but she’s adjusting.

Across town, Kara leans back in her chair and reviews her list of questions, cross-referencing her research notes one last time before she packs everything into her messenger bag to head out. Her walk to Spheerical won’t take long, but she doesn’t want to risk being late so she gives herself plenty of time for any delays. She’s definitely a lot more nervous for this interview than the last one with Miss Smoak. This prosthetic is supposed to be cutting edge and is set to change the game for amputees. In short, it’s an article that could put her on the short list for another award, but her nerves aren’t related to any award. No. Her stomach is twisted into knots at the idea of possibly seeing Lena. 

As much as she wants to push the idea from her head, the more she tries, the more green eyes seem to float across her thoughts. She huffs in frustration at herself and sets her jaw in determination to overcome her traitorous mind. By the time she enters the glass doors of Spheerical, she feels like she has more control and is ready to get to work. A widest, most charming smile gets plastered across her face as she approaches the reception desk.

“Hi! I’m here for an interview with Felicity Smoak.” Kara says as she hands over her I.D. and CatCo badge. “It should be under Kara Danvers for CatCo Worldwide Media.”

The young gentleman at the desk returns her smile and takes her information. A few minutes later, she is handed a visitor's pass and moved along to the elevator. Stepping into the elevator seems to increase the gymnastics inside her stomach so she leans back against the cool metal of the wall and takes a few deep breaths. By the time she has opened her eyes again, the doors are opening to drop her on the tenth floor. It’s the same place she met with Felicity the last time and it settles her nerves a bit. It’s familiar scenery and the same smiling receptionist.

“Miss Danvers, it’s good to see you again.” The receptionist smiles, standing to show her into the conference room across the hallway. “Go ahead and have a seat, she’ll be with you shortly. Help yourself to the refreshments.” 

Kara grabs a bottle of water, deciding she doesn’t need anything that will make her any more jittery than she already is. She sits down and pulls her things out of her bag, getting everything settled for the interview. Her eyes and mind are so focused on her task that she doesn’t notice the door opening and closing.

The sound of footsteps breaks the reporter out of her focus. When Kara looks up, it is into all too familiar eyes, her favorite shade of green. Their eyes meet across the room, wide and shocked. Both of them momentarily freeze. It’s been 8 years since they last spoke or were remotely close to one another. Almost a decade since they went from the center of each other’s world to mere strangers in a quiet conference room. Hurt green eyes meet surprised blue across the large room. They stare at one another inside a building full of people oblivious to the world-stopping moment happening around them. 

Amid the silence, Kara can see Lena’s face has gone ashen and her throat keeps bobbing with harsh swallows. Before they realize what’s happening, both of them are talking at the same time. Kara is out of her chair and speaking before Lena is even halfway to the table. The shocked scientist heads toward the table and does her best to keep her tone professional. 

Once Kara realizes Lena is sitting in the chair with a no-nonsense look on her face, she plops herself back into her own and looks up. Azure eyes comb over pale features, finally settling on pain-stricken viridian eyes. They hold the stare for a brief moment before Lena straightens her back. Kara can see when the Luthor mask emerges from the pained features of the woman she loves. 

“I apologize, Miss Danvers. Miss Smoak had to leave for a personal matter so she asked me to fill in.” Lena states with a matter of fact tone, no emotion and strictly professional. “I understand you’re here to talk about the new prosthetic line and the tech we’re releasing next month. It seems Miss Smoak allotted an hour and a half. If you have your questions ready, we can get started.”

Kara’s shoulders drop. She feels her eyes stinging with tears and isn’t sure if she can stop them from flowing. Lena is being crystal clear that she’s keeping this professional and has no intention of veering into anything personal. The reporter closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to center herself. She clears her throat, opens her eyes, and gets to work. “Of course, Miss Luthor. I’ll do my best to make this as painless and efficient as possible.”

The interview starts and things are a bit stilted. It isn’t until Kara makes one of her signature terrible puns that they both laugh and things settle into a more natural rhythm. Kara asks her questions and Lena provides the most detailed and honest answers she can without revealing too much. The reporter smiles and sits her head in her hand as she watches the love of her life gesture passionately about one of her newest inventions. It reminds her of all the nights they spent on their couch in their apartment sharing stories about classes and just life in general. She must have missed something the scientist said because she is broken from her thoughts when a hand lands on her forearm.

“”Hey, everything okay?” Lena asks, brow furrowed in concern. “I called your name several times and you didn’t respond.”

Kara nods her head, clearing her throat in embarrassment. “Y-Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Just got lost in my head for a bit. I’m sorry.” She flashes a half-hearted smile and sits back to flip through her notebook. Scanning to make sure she didn’t skip any questions and counting the remaining ones, she looks back up. “Seems like we only have five more questions left.”

Lena watches her for a few more seconds, biting her lip as if to hold back from saying something. Whatever it is dies on her tongue as she shakes her head and gestures for the reporter to continue. They get through the remaining questions in record time. Kara gives a polite thank you and starts stuffing all of her items back into her bag. Once everything is packed away, she glances around to make sure nothing was missed and stands. Pushing her chair back under the table, she turns to walk away. For the second time in eight years, she’s walking away from the woman she loves. Just as her hand lands on the handle of the door, she stops and turns.

“I showed up.” Kara mumbles quietly as she fidgets with the strap of her bag, eyes fixed on her feet. “I was too late, but I was there. Just wanted you to know.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the bracelet she found sitting on the bench. When she looks up and her eyes find Lena’s, she can see the surprise on her face. A broken smile barely lifts the corners of her mouth as she turns to leave the room. Before she can wrap her hand completely around the handle again, a cold hand settles on her warm skin. She freezes.

“You were there.” It’s quietly whispered. Like a leaf rustling in the breeze, it’s barely audible. Lena isn’t sure she can speak any louder, there’s a lump of emotion in her throat she’s been begging to stay put all week. “I waited and waited. Almost two hours. You never came.”

Kara spins around, her eyes wide with fear. She’s desperate to explain, panicked that things will spiral and she won’t get another chance. “Lena, I promise I would have been there sooner if I had known. Alex, she did this thing…I wasn’t getting your emails. Then she undid the thing…then I got the emails and I kicked her out, but I didn’t see the…” 

She takes a breath and starts again. “Once I saw the email, I took off running. Lena, I ran as fast as I could and it should’ve taken thirty minutes, but I did it in twenty-six. And I was still too late.” Her face drops and tears sting her eyes again. This time she doesn’t stop them, she just lets them fall. If this is the last time she gets to be in the same room with Lena, at least it will be honest.

Green eyes observe with interest, she’s not really sure what Kara’s rambling about, but she has deduced that Alex did something. Blocked her email address, she thinks? Then she unblocked it and Kara got the messages. It’s still not really clear. A humorless laugh pushes through her lips, why doesn’t she just ask?

“Kara, I’m not really sure what you are trying to tell me. Can you slow down for a second and explain?” Lena asks, her hands involuntarily raising to wipe the blonde’s tears. When she realizes what she’s doing, she pulls her hands away and steps back. “Why don’t we sit back down? Sounds like this is going to take a while.”

So they sit. They talk about what happened on Monday and why Kara never responded to any of her messages over the years. It doesn’t fix things. It doesn’t make everything better. They still have a lot to talk about and a million things to sort out, but they’re talking. It’s more than either of them could have anticipated a few days ago. They make plans for dinner the following day and discover they both kept the same numbers just in case the other ever tried to call. 

As they stand outside the elevator, getting ready to part ways, Kara lifts the bracelet up again, offering it to Lena. “I can’t believe you still have this. It was always attached to my keychain. It was the one you bought me on our first date, I always kept my apartment key on it.” She grinned down at the brilliant woman as long fingers plucked the bracelet out of her hand. Her eyes trace the movement of her other hand lifting something from her jacket pocket.

Kara’s jaw drops in disbelief. It’s the keychain.

“I’ve kept it with me everyday since you left. I’m not sure why. I think maybe it was my way of staying connected to you. Holding it always takes me back to places we went and things we did.” Lena shrugs, running her fingers across the ridges of the metal. “For a really long time I wished I didn’t, but I remember everything, Kara. Now, I’m glad I do.”

A teary smile spreads across Kara’s face. “How do you feel about starting over?”

Lena lets out a wet laugh. “Mmm, I’m not sure that’s really what I want.” She pauses to hold her hand to her chin, staring at the reporter. “Hear me out. Starting over feels like forgetting everything and starting new. I don’t want that. Our history and our past are what built us. What if we just talk things out and start again?”

“Yeah, I like that.” Kara smiles, tears slowly drying on her cheeks.” Let’s start again.”

“I told you, I remember everything. I want to keep it that way.” Lena smiles and presses a kiss to her cheek. They share one more smile. Kara disappears into one elevator and Lena into the other. 

Things aren’t perfect and it’s not going to be easy, but they’re starting again. What more could they ask for?

[lightupmyass]

Drive Me Fucking Crazy

Pairing: Nahoya Kawata x OC (Unmei or reader)

Warnings: Slight aggression, little bit of angst, little bit of make up sex, established relationship, possessiveness, lots of dirty talk, slight breeding at the end, rough, Nahoya just being dirty and making her know she belongs to him

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since he touched her. Her overly sexual boyfriend never went this long without kissing her, groping her, or pinching her to tease her. It made her scared that she might be the problem, maybe he just wasn’t in love with her, maybe she was ugly now or something like that. She’d looked at herself in the mirror a million times, wondering what it might be. Maybe he was bored of her? Maybe she was too plain looking? It could’ve been a million things, she couldn’t possibly pick just one thing. But, an idea formed in her head that she figured might work. She went out and bought the cutest little lingerie set, a pretty pale peach color with lace and a matching sheer robe with a silky ribbon to tie it together. She was sure this would work, make him at least look at her. She felt confident, twirling in the mirror and feeling good about herself. And when she heard the door open, she knew it was her chance, peaking out from their bedroom door as she watched him walk in, a smile creeping into her lips.

“Fuck!” He shouted, throwing his backpack at the wall before roughly tugging his hat of, trying to rip his hair tie on it and groaning in frustration when it got tangled, as it always did. “Dammit!” He yelled, trying to yank it out. Her smile faded, realizing that it was another fruitless night as she sighed, opening the door and walking over, dejected. “Hey, let me help. You’re gonna rip your hair out.” She said softly, reaching up to stop his hands. He huffed, going over to sit on the couch so she could carefully untangle it from behind, crossing his arms like a child as he grumbled. “Stupid fucking curls. Always get stuck in shit and ruin fucking everything.” He groaned. She finally got it out, patting the top of his head softly as he kept ranting about how much he hated his hair. At this point, she already knew her plan had failed, so if she was going to have to sit through another night of him either venting or ignoring her completely, she was going to get through it drunk. She grabbed some whiskey and two glasses, putting ice in them and setting them on the coffee table, pouring the amber liquid into them and handing him one as she sat down next to him, downing hers in one gulp and pouring more. He also drank it in one gulp, getting up and sighing. “I’m going to shower.” He said, the grin he always wore contrasting the dark, irritated tone in his voice as he left her by herself with the alcohol.

It was hopeless, no matter what, she knew tonight was not going to be the night, and she didn’t know what else she could do to get him to even look at her. He hadn’t even looked at the outfit she got, and it made her see red. She went through so much to look cute so he would at least acknowledge her, and he couldn’t even spare her a glance? The longer he spent in the bathroom, the more she was able to drink until the room started swaying a bit. When the bathroom door opened, she was already lost in a trance as she watched the TV silently, Nahoya sitting down next to her and huffing as he towel dried his hair. She was hyper aware of the fact he was shirtless, smelling nice and fresh from his shower, skin still warm as she unconsciously reached out for his arm, trailing her fingernails along his skin. “Mm…you smell good…” She hummed, resting her head on his shoulder. “Well duh, I just fucking showered. You’re drunk. You’re too warm.” He mumbled, pushing her off of him. Her jaw dropped, lips forming a pout as she put her hand over his, placing it on her bare thigh and moving it up and down. “Baby, just tell me what’s wrong. Every night you come home and you’re so mad, I just want to help you feel better. Can’t you just look at me at least?” She begged, pushing her breasts together with her arms, hoping that’d get his attention. “Jesus fuck, can I not have some time to myself? I busy my ass all fucking day at the shop, gotta cook all the food by myself, I just want some peace and fucking quiet when I get home. Is that really too much to fucking ask?” He huffed, tearing his hand away from her, still not even looking at her.

She was frozen. The shock and pain she felt from his words were enough to send her over the edge, jaw tightening as she got up. “Fine. I’m going to bed. Fucking stupid. Should’ve known better than to think you’d actually fucking give a shit.” She huffed, getting up and bending over a bit to grab the bottle and take it with her. Those words, that was the final snap for him, making him look at her and finally see what she was wearing, her ass on full display in front of his face. But, he couldn’t pay attention to that when her words struck a nerve. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He asked, titling his head to the side as he looked up at her. “Nothing. It means fucking nothing. Good night.” She sighed, turning to walk away.

“Nah nah nah, we ain’t doin’ that.” He tsked, keeping her in place, still bent over as he stood up, putting his hands on her hips. “Hoya, let go.” She grumbled, trying to stand up and wiggle out of his grasp. However, he put his hand between her shoulder blades and pushing her back down, her back arching as she pressed back into him due to her lack of balance. “What’s all this, huh? You put all this on to give me a little show? What, you go a couple days without my dick and you turn into a bitch?” He hummed, his eyes scanning over her back, watching the way her ass jiggled when he pulled it back harshly against him, making her yelp. “Let go of me! It hasn’t been days, it’s been weeks. Too fucking busy all the time to even look at me, so if you won’t play with me, I’ll go do it myself.” She huffed, struggling against him. He laughed loudly, pulling her up and turning her around. ‘You’re gonna go do it yourself, huh? That’s what you think? Fine, let’s go.” He taunted, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the bedroom, flinging her onto the bed. “Hoya! What the hell?” She cried out, scooting to the top of the bed as he leaned against the dresser, crossing his arms. “You wanna do it yourself, go right ahead. I bet you can’t even make yourself cum, let alone cum as hard as you do when I fuck you.” He said, his signature smile fading a bit as his eyes opened slightly, peering at her with slight malice. The fact that he had the audacity, that he could stand there so confidently, like she can only feel pleasure from him, that made her even angrier, making her get up and try to push him to the side to get into the dresser. “Move.” She huffed, nudging him. When he wouldn’t budge, she threw her hands in the air, engraved at this point. “Nahoya, move so I can fucking get my shit!” She shouted, the shit eating grin coming back. “Nope. You don’t get to use those. You said you’d go fuck yourself, toys aren’t allowed.” He told her, making her gasp. “That’s not fucking fair! Fuck you, Nahoya! Such a fucking ass!” She shouted, turning around.

“No, you know what’s not fucking fair? What’s not fair is that I have to bust my ass all day every day just to come home and have you instantly clinging to me! Do you know how fucking annoying it feels to just want to shower and relax and you’re glued to my side? When I come home, I just want to clean all the nasty shit off me and you won’t stop fucking touching me!” He admitted, her heart sinking as she sat on the edge of the bed. “What, do you think I just sit around and do nothing all day? I work too, you know. And when I come home, I wanna relax too, and I want to help you relax.” She told him, making him scoff. “Being Mitsuya’s assistant isn’t fucking work. That’s not hard. You sit around and watch him work and make coffee. You don’t actually do anything, that’s not a real fucking job.” He spat, making her gasp. “Are you fucking serious? I schedule events, I call people every day, I research, I do fucking everything except the designing in that studio! You know what? I’m fucking done.” She huffed, going to the closet. “What do you mean you’re done? I’m still fucking talking to you.” He shouted as she shook her head. “I’m done talking to you. If you wanna bitch and whine about me just trying to help you, then I won’t anymore. You can have your fucking alone time. I’m out of here.” She huffed, throwing clothes into a bag. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to stay here and be told that he hated the way she tried to show him affection.

His head was fuming, his heart hurting as he watched her pack. He couldn’t let her leave, there was no way. How could he give her the attention she needs when he was too exhausted after each work day? How could she even think about leaving him after everything he’s done for her? He loved her, for fucks sake, and all he asked for was a couple of minutes to himself when he got home, and now she’s fucking leaving him over that? No way, he wasn’t going to let that happen. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew it’d been far too long since he’d had the energy to give her what she needed, but he had the energy today, and he was going to use it, especially now that blood was pumping in every part of his body, especially where he needed it to. Hands were on her hips in an instant, pulling her back as she dropped the clothes, her body jolting upright as she felt him pressing into her, his cock hard in his pajama shorts. “Let go.” She huffed, her chest heaving as she tried to ignore it and stay mad, the alcohol making her hyper focus on it instead. “Aw, what’s the matter? You’re just gonna walk out on me? Dressed like that? You really think I’m gonna let anyone see MY baby dressed like that?” He hummed, trailing his hand over the front of her body, starting at her throat to lean her head back against his shoulder and moving down, over her breasts and down her tummy until it slipped between her thighs, pressed tight together. “This is what you’re so mad about, ain’t it? That I haven’t touched you, that I haven’t been dicking you down every night lately? So, if I fuck you, you’ll shut the fuck up, right?” He asked, his lips right next to her ear, her eyebrows furrowing as she tried to focus not in the way the unusual baritone in his voice gave her goosebumps and more on the fact that he was still acting like an ass. “You don’t get it. Just let me go, Hoya.” She pouted, tilting her head to the side as she felt his lips brush over her skin.

Her words fueled him, they way she said to let her go even though he could hear the breathlessness in her voice, the way he could just know her eyelids fluttered shut as she trembled under his touch. “I don’t get it, huh? I think I do, though. Pretty baby’s just so fucking needy that she can’t handle a couple weeks so her man can start up his dream business? That right?” He hummed, moving them slowly to the edge of the bed and bending her over, his hand flat on her back as he rubbed against her. “Just so fucking cock hungry that she had to buy this little get up just so she could tempt me to stuff her little pussy so full, isn’t that right? It’s pretty. Like this lil ribbon.” He chuckled, pulling the silk out off and grabbing her wrists, holding them behind her back and tying them together. “Hoya, what are you-ow!” She squealed as his hand slapped against her ass, so hard it left a small print. “Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy, you know that? Piss me off one second and make me hard the next. Feel it? Ain’t this what you’ve been wanting, baby?” He taunted, rubbing against her core as she stood on her tiptoes, eyes rolling back at the friction. She couldn’t help the way her body shook as he brushed up against her just right, burying her face in the blankets to muffle the whimper she couldn’t hold back. “Yeah, this is what you fucking want. Just say it and I’ll give it to ya. Say ‘I was only a bitch because I wanted your dick.’ And you’ll get it.” He laughed, her eyes widening. “I am not being a-ah! Fuck!” She yelped, lurching forward as he thrust hard against her, hearing their skin slap as her backside bounced against his abdomen. “Fuck! Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, Hoya, I just wanna feel you, I wanna be close to you, wanna show you how much I love you. That’s all I wanted to do. Just wanted to love you.” She whimpered, holding back a sob as tears started staining the blanket. He stood still as he looked down at her, frowning as he heard the little hiccups. He moved them a bit, arching her back more and pulling himself out of his pants, lining up with her entrance and rubbing over it, thankful she gets wet when she’s drunk.

He leaned forward, slipping his hand around her neck and pulling her up against him and gripping her throat, gently as he pushed into her, hearing her moan loudly next to his ear as he sunk all the way in. He groaned low, his head falling forward as his fingers found their way to her lips, slipping into her mouth as her tongue swirled around them. He pulled out with a shaky breath before giving an experimental thrust, making her moan again as her mouth hung open with his fingers still on her tongue. “Fuck, that’s it. Pussy’s always so good for me. Feel so fucking good, baby.” He moaned, kissing her cheeks and he started moving, sliding in and out of her. Her brain instantly went numb, eyes rolled back and drool leaking from her tongue as she moaned uncontrollably. She knew she was needy, but she didn’t know just a few thrusts after so long would have her seeing stars already. He didn’t want to admit it, but he missed the way she clamped around him, the vice grip she always had around him, milking him for all he’s worth. “Okay, you’re right, it’s been too fucking long, shit! Ah, feel so good, baby. So fucking good. Love it when you, oh fuck, that’s it.” He moaned as she wiggled her ass back against him, squeezing tighter and sucking on his fingers. “Just like that. Doing so good for me, sweetheart. Always take this cock so fucking good, fucking takin’ it like a champ.” He groaned, licking behind her ear as he picked up the pace, the sound of their skin and the movement of the bed bouncing off the walls.

Nahoya let go of her, letting her collapse onto the bed in favor of watching the mesmerizing ripples of her ass cheeks as he slammed into her, gripping and massaging the flesh as he twitched inside of her. Unmei raised onto her tiptoes, knowing just how to get the best angle to have him hit the perfect spot inside and make her feel the best. This is exactly what she needed, after weeks of failed attempts to get off with her hand and the little vibrator they kept, all she needed was him, she always knew that. Nahoya wasn’t doing much better, already out of breath with sputtering hips. His moans were loud, Nahoya grabbing his shirt and pulling it up to bite down on the fabric, needing to get a better view of the way her pussy swallowed his fat cock so eagerly, the shaft coming out shiny and dripping in her arousal each time he pulled out. If he could keep this sight on replay for the rest of his life, he would. He felt a little bad that he went so long without touching her, but with the way she was pushing back on him, eager to please and take him, would it be so bad if he did it more often? Was he really that toxic?

“Hoya~! Feels so good. So good. Of fuck.” She babbled, shushing her face into the mattress to hide the loud whine she let out. He let his jaw go slack to drop his shirt, moaning and laughing. “I know, babe. Feels real fuckin’ good. Shit, pussy of yours is to die for.” He agreed, maneuvering her around how he wanted. He flipped her onto her side, one leg over his shoulder and the other dangling to the sides he spread her open, reaching up to pull the top of her dress down and expose her bouncing tits. She gasped and moaned, throwing her head back as he pinched and squeezed her breast, letting him take over the thrusts as she laid back and took it, the pace picking up along with the squelching sounds. “Pretty fucking dress. Pretty fucking pussy. My pretty girl. All mine, right? Can’t walk out on me, I’m all you fuckin’ need. No one else gets to see you like this ever. Right?” The possessive tone was driving her insane. She loved it when he got jealous, when he wanted her to know she was his. She gulped and nodded, looking up at him with lust and love swirling in her hazel eyes as she grabbed his wrist. “All yours. No one else. Promise. Just you. Only for you.” She assured him, giving him her signature sweet smile. He gave her the same, dragging his hand down her torso and pressing his thumb to her clit. “Damn right, all mine. That’s my baby.” He chuckled, happier than ever as her walls fluttered around him.

He was fast, rough, rubbing cycles into her bud until she could feel her body trembling, the waves of pleasure surfing through her and making her toes curl. “Oh fuck. Shit! Hoya! Go faster, ‘m almost, ah!” Nahoya flipped her back over again, moving her up the bed a bit so he could climb on, kneeling behind her and slipping back in. He grabbed her arms, pulling her up off the mattress so she only had her knees and his strength to keep her upright. “Faster? Want it fast and hard, huh? Just wanna be fucked dumb on this dick, that right?” He asked, keeping himself completely buried and not moving waiting for her to beg. Unmei nodded, choking on a sob as her high faded away, much to her dismay. “Please! Please, Hoya, wan’ it so bad. Just wanna cum, please, baby.” She whined, wiggling her hips again to encourage him to keep going. He smiled, dropping her back onto the bed and putting his hands on her back, making her arch more. “Alright alright, I GUESS I’ll be nice. Just make sure you cum hard and scream my name, kay?” He laughed, not wasting any more time before thrusting hard again.

The brutal pace had her vision going blurry, each snap of his hips making the headboard hit the wall, sure to deepen the dents already there. “Shit! Ah, fuck! That’s it, baby. Take it. I know you can. Gonna fill you up for being so good. Want that?” He asked, laughing when she babbled incoherently. She could barely even hear him, the pleasure too much and making her ears ring, the moans and whimpers the only sounds leaving her lips. “Dumb already? Guess you really love my cock that much. No one else can make you feel this good. Only me. I’m the only one that gets to cream these insides.” He couldn’t help it, just seeing her try to walk out earlier sent him feral, he had to make sure she knew no one else could make her feel the way he does. Even though she already knew it, he couldn’t ever let her forget.

He knew all the telltale signs, her walls clamping and fluttering around him, her hips rocking back shamelessly, pretty manicured nails digging into the comforter. She was leaking, her essence dripping down her thighs as the wet, nasty sounds of her pussy got even louder, driving him wild. It was making it easier to move faster, his hips snapping at almost an inhuman pace until her moans turned into loud gasps, screams as she reached back to grab his wrist. He watched as she turned her head to the side, her mouth hung open as she cried out, pussy squeezing the life out of him as she came hard. “Fuck! Holy fucking shit! Cumming!” He groaned, slamming into her one more time before he let himself go, slipping so deep inside of her he hoped it’d never come out. Maybe she’d learn her lesson then.

Nahoya collapsed on top of her, her legs falling as they laid together and caught their breath, his weight on top of her soothing. He sighed, rolling onto his side and spooning her, keeping himself nuzzled inside of her as he grew soft to keep everything from leaking out, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her neck and shoulders. Unmei’s eyelids fluttered shut as she smiled and giggled, placing her hand over hers as she relaxed. “Don’t ever make me wait that long again.” She breathed out, the vibration of his laugh making her heart flutter. “Aw, you really need me that bad, Angel?” He teased, Unmei slapping his hand. “I know, I know. I won’t, promise. Need you too bad for that. Love you, baby.” He cooed, kissing her ear lobe. “Love you too. Now, get off so I can go clean up.” She insisted, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. But, he kept her firm in his arms, clicking his tongue. “Nah, don’t think so. Wanna stay just like this.” He shook his head, only moving to have her face him while still keeping himself inside. That was the main thing he wanted, to stay snug and warm in her pussy, make sure all of him stayed tucked inside. Unmei didn’t really mind, she liked the intimacy of it, but Nahoya was definitely letting his toxic and possessive side get the best of him in that moment. If it meant keeping her around forever, one kid wouldn’t hurt, right?

[youaintnothinbuta]

i'll give you a cookie if you write something where reader is a budding singer and falls in love with elvis the pelvis and everyone, her family, manager, and even the media, are against their love because it would be terrible for her reputation, since she's the typical "good girl" (the kind who would sing here comes santa wearing a sweater) but then she tells everyone to fuck off and ends up with elvis

elvis - elvis the pelvis

Summary: ^^

Pairing: elvis or austin!elvis x fem!reader

Word count: 2500

Warnings: fluff, swearing

MASTERLIST

A/N: hope you like!! Sorry if it’s a bit long, loved the idea and couldn’t help myself <3

————————————————————

“So, what did you think?” You asked, after giving your manager a look at a couple new songs you’d written, as your small team was working on producing your first ever full album, so far you’d only release singles and EPs, but with some new traction, you finally had a (barely) big enough audience to support releasing an album.

“Honey, all you’ve written about here— I mean, how many times can you sing about blue eyes and a deep voice, darlin’, they’re all clearly about Elvis.”

“Well, so what if they are? You always say writing lyrics from personal experience makes them so much more meaningful. Besides, he said he’d help me write some! Those ones won’t be about him.” You argued.

“Y/N, listen to me, you don’t have personal experience with him, I’ve been in the business a long time, I know he said he’d help ya, but honey, he’s only sayin’ that to be nice. And I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but he’s not looking’ for love, he doesn’t care. He’s got money, he can have anything he wants, don’t waste your time on chasin’ him like a helpless teenage girl.”

“It’s not like that! We talked the other day, I ran into him in—“

“Y/N I’m not going to argue with you like a child. He doesn’t even know your name, he sure as hell doesn’t know any of your songs and he’s only going to hurt you.” Your manger raised his voice, it was clear to you the argument wasn’t going anywhere.

“I see. Thank you.” You stated, leaving the papers with him and leaving the studio, driving to your parents house, as your whole family was going to have dinner together.

“Mama, he humiliated me, yelled at me in front of everyone.” You complained about your manager, whilst helping her with dinner preparations.

“I do want to support you, Y/N, of course, you’re my baby, but my job as your mama is to look out for you, I really don’t think you should be trying your luck with a young man deemed ‘the pelvis’, it’s nasty.”

You sighed. “Mama I—“

“Are you still going on about this?” Your older brother walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. “I’m not gonna have my little sister be seen foolin’ around with a man wearing eyeliner and shakin’ his hips around on tv, pretendin’ it’s entertainment.” He continued.

“None of you are listening to me.” You smacked your hand down on the counter, getting the attention of your family. “I know I’m not as big as he is, but I still know what it’s like to perform and we’ve all heard his interviews, if he believes he’s not doing anything wrong why shouldn’t the rest of us?” You tried your best to plead your case with your family.

“No, honey, you’re missing the point.” Your mama spoke. “We’re not just thinkin’ about your personal life, your career, it’s just takin’ off, you’re so close to havin’ a big break especially with a new album and being seen with him, it’d ruin that for you.”

“Wha— how?” You asked, jaw dropped at such a claim.

“God sake, do we gotta spell everything out for you? He’s filthy, Y/N, an out of control young man with too much money, makin’ a fool of himself on national TV, and you— you have such a nice, sweet, family style, you know, a real good girl reputation. If that gets ruined, you got nothin’. We’re just looking out for you.” Your brother added.

“You know what, just forget it, I’m not that hungry. I’ll see y’all another time, I’m going home.” You walked out of your parents home and to your car, driving off, home, to be alone.

How dare they? They got no idea. God, why do they have to say such things.

These thoughts amongst others flew through your head the whole drive home. They hadn’t realised how much they’d offended you, they didn’t even think what they were saying was so offensive, but the truth was, you and Elvis knew each other better than you let on. You see, you’d run into him, once, at a show, you were the smaller act going on before him, and you’d got to chatting a bit backstage and he was just the kindest, most sincere person you’d ever met. The pair of you kept in contact, often calling each other a couple times a week.

You decided to give Elvis a ring, besides, no one else would understand the whole reputation and media thing quite the way he would. You sat on your bedside, phone to your ear, waiting for him to pick up.

“Hey, Elvis, it’s me.” You spoke.

“Oh, hi, honey, how are ya?” He asked.

“Uh, not too good, ‘f I’m honest. Mama, papa, my brother, my manager, even folks at the recording studio, everyone’s puttin’ so much pressure on me to keep this good girl reputation up, and I’m not saying I wanna be actin’ out or anything, but I just wanna be live my life. They say I’m tossin’ my career out before it’s even started.”

“Oh, honey, trust me, I know, I know exactly what you mean. Say, you had dinner yet tonight?” He asked.

“No, have you?”

“No, would you like me to come get ya, we’ll go get some dinner and talk about this?”

“Oh, I’d love that, so much. Are you sure?” You cheered, trying not to sound to excited.

Elvis chuckled at your excitement, “I’m sure, but I gotta warn you, it’s getting hard for me to go anywhere without those camera’s followin’ me.”

“I’m sure I can manage.” You replied.

“Alright, well, put on something nice, I’ll come get ya now.” Elvis said, his keys jangling in his hands, before hanging up.

Yes. yes yes yes, this is exactly what you wanted. You wanted to be seen with him, you wanted photos, news stories, anything you could get. You didn’t want this for selfish reasons or to show off, you wanted this to happen, you wanted your family and everyone else around you to see it, you wanted whatever ‘awful reputation’ that was gonna come from you being seen with Elvis, just to get it over and done with, out the way, so you could carry on with your life.

About 20 minutes had passed, you’d been rushing around getting ready, there was a knock on your door, undoubtedly Elvis. You opened up for him, greeting him with a smile and a hug.

“Hey, pretty girl, you look nice.” He gave you a quick peck on the lips.

“Hi, Elvis. You look good too.” You smiled, stepping out your front door, locking it behind you. He offered his arm for you to take, walking you to his car. Elvis loved chatting, he loved talking about everything, anything that possibly crossed his mind. The little devil on your shoulder quietly whispered all the negative stuff people had said about him, while the little angel on your other shoulder told you not to listen to any of that. You really did believe actions spoke louder than words, and the fact that he offered to have dinner with you just so you could chat about what was on your mind was definitely boding well for him.

The pair of you pulled up to one of his favourite restaurants, a few gasps, double takes and camera flashes pointed your direction. You swallowed dryly, having second thoughts, as Elvis walked ‘round to open your door for you.

“If it gets too much, say the word and we leave, alright?” He said quietly, giving you a hand as you stepped out the car. You held his arm as more and more attention drew to him, him smiling for photos and saying hello to as many people as he could, leading you to the restaurant. Luckily, he’d predicted a gathering of people and called the restaurant ahead of time, letting them know he’d be coming, they seated you at a table in the corner, giving you some distance from the observant people around you.

The pair of you chatted, waiting for a waitress to come take your order. You explained to Elvis about how everyone is so concerned you’re about to throw away your just-now-blooming career, but if simply living is going to ‘destroy your reputation’ you’re not sure you wanted it. Elvis understood completely, he was a very good person to talk to, he gave you great advice, and told you he was always there for you, something you really needed to hear when it felt like everyone you thought loved you was against every decision you made.

A couple days later, you were back in the studio with your small team of people, working on this album. You sat down, pulling a book out of your bag, wanting to record a newly complete song that Elvis had helped you with, he even said he’d record one with you, if you wanted him to.

“What the hell is this?” Your manager slammed a newspaper down on the table in front of you, making you jump slightly.

“Elvis takes rising young artist Y/N /Y/L/N to his favourite restaurant for date night.” Was the caption of one of many images printed in this newspaper, of you and Elvis the other night.

“I—”

“—No. I work too damn hard for you, trying to make you into something, you know. And you deliberately ignore me, like I have no idea what I’m talking about! If I have to have this conversation again, I don’t think I can work for you anymore.” Your manager sighed, you figured it probably wasn’t the best idea to bring up a new song Elvis co-wrote.

The next day, you were with your family, sitting outside in your parents backyard together, enjoying the weather, having lunch, until your father joined the scene, bringing to you a similar, angry conversation to the one you’d had the day prior.

“You went on a date with him? Y/N?”

Your eyes just about rolled to the back of your skull, so sick of hearing this.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you know how many girls are going to despise you now? Because of this? Do you?” Your father continued, soon getting input from the rest of your family, you just sat there taking blow after blow, until you just about had enough.

“You know what?” You stood up from your chair, “You are my family, I’m supposed to be supported by you, but funnily enough, this entire time, the only person I’ve received any support from is Elvis himself. And yeah, I did go on a date with him, we’re going steady at the minute.”

You had no idea if you and Elvis were going steady, you knew there was something there, a little tension but, you needed some kind of counter argument.

“You’re going steady? With Elvis Presley?” Your sister burst out laughing, making your cheeks heat up.

“Yes, Y/S/N, I am. For god’s sake, just fuck off, all of you.” You left once again, this was becoming a recurring theme every time you tried to have a nice meal with your family.

You knew who you wanted needed to talk to: Elvis, of course.

Just ask him what’s going on between you, if he’s gonna hurt you, just get it over and done with. You conversed with yourself on the drive back to your own home, tearing up.

You rang him, trying your hardest not to break down in tears.

“Hello?” He picked up.

“Elvis, are we going steady? Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to start with that, I— uh, hi.” You sniffled.

“Are you crying?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”

“Honey, I’m sorry. Did I not make this clear enough? I like you, sweetheart, a lot, I thought we were going steady.”

“Oh, oh that’s good! I thought so too.” You cheered through your runny nose and damp cheeks, making him giggle.

“Can I see you?” He asked.

“Like, now?”

“Well, yeah, if that’s alright for you.”

“Yes, yeah, that would be wonderful, Elvis.” You smiled.

Within 30 minutes Elvis had come over, you brought him inside and upstairs to your bedroom, where you sat and came clean to him, about everything people had been saying about him and how he was no good for you.

“They all want me away from you, in fact, they didn’t even know we’re as close as we are.”

“Me? Wha— Wha— is it because of the whole pelvis thing, because I—“

“Elvis, I know you’re not doing anything wrong. It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, Elvis the Pelvis, I mean. It’s just, I don’t know.”

“Tell me, darling, it’s okay, I’m sure I’ve been told worse.” He chuckled slightly, encouragingly, but in all truth, his heart was broken to know no one around you wanted you around him.

“They always go on about the— the dancing and the money and the girls and, and they think if I got close to you’d hurt me. They say you’re not the type of guy to look for love and I’d just be wastin’ my time.“

He gave you a look as if to say ‘go on.’

“They think you’re a bad influence on young people and that you’ll ruin my good girl reputation and, when you offered to help me with music, they said you were all talk and weren’t going to, really.”

“Oh, sweetheart, no, I— the press, fifty percent of what’s written about me is lies and the other fifty is half-truths. The girls— I don’t have any, well, except you. And, and I mean sure, I w’nt lookin’ for love but that don’t mean I didn’t find it. And I do mean it, I’d love to help you in any way I can.”

You just gulped shallowly, not knowing what to say.

“I’m sorry for putting you through this, I know how hard it is when it feels like everyone’s against you.” Elvis picked up your hands, holding them in his as he spoke.

“It’s not your fault, honestly, I just want to be with you.” You fiddled with his rings, dragging them up and down his fingers as you spoke.

He smiled, watching you play with his fingers, “I want that too.”

“Good, I told my family to fuck off because of you.” You laughed, weakly.

“Ain’t doin’ me any favours, are ya?” He stood up, making his way over to your turntable, picking a record from your collection and putting it on. He turned around, offering a hand to you, inviting you to dance with him. You wished the people around you could see this side of him, not the picture people painted of him, and how much of a gentleman he really was.

“By the way, I think my manager is going to drop me.” You laughed, making him stop in his tracks.

[fetish4juggalos]

The sawyer twins with their s/o headcannons

Sorry for the long wait ive been gone for some months now and I apologize. Ive been kinda uninspired recently so I though Id post this for shits and giggles. Requests are always open

These headcannons only account for the events and characters of tcsm1 and tcsm2. Any other tcsm media is not included or accounted for

I apologize in advance for both grammatical and spelling errors:)

Chop top

As far as past relationship experience im sure he had some pre-nam but like zero post-nam so safe to say hes a little rusty in that department

Your relationship is most likey based off a shared interest or one of his weird infatuations. Things like music, 70s-80s culture, murder. Or you could just be an innocent civilian who he decides is like the best person ever 🤷

He flirts like ATROCIOUSLY

Not like bad at flirting but goes from 0-100. He could be complimenting you on your outfit and then say the most dog awful shit known to man

Dates consist of driving the truck looking for victims or just looking around town trying to find something interesting to do

If you thought he annoyed drayton....oh youre in for a suprise. You might just become draytons favorite person bc now chop is running around asking you dumb questions and not him

He loves when you wear his clothes or anthing of his. Pins, jackets, drawls, ect. he loves seeing you wear them no matter the occasion

He probably has some sort of pain fetish/kink so I dont doubt he will ask you to cut him, lick his plate, pick at the skin around it

Its kinda his favorite thing to be in pain since he has such a high pain tolerance but if you dont want him to cut you he wont (though expect him to urge you to try or push to introduce weapons into the bedroom)

Likes to play fight with you whenever the opportunity trikes

Being in the military he ruff housed alot with his fellow soldiers so doing it with you is kinda a fun thing for him ( also because he knowns he has that military strength and always wins)

Trys to scare the living shit out of you for his own amusement. If you're doing something important or just reading he'll come up from behind you and start yelling for no reason 😒

He doesn't shower often 😀 so the only way that you will get him to bathe is to get in with him. This goes for other hygienic practices. You kinda got to take it into your own hands

Nubbins

If chop was rusty then nubbins must be corroding because he has little to no experience with relationships past one-sided obsessions and TV

He most likely was the one who got obsessed first doing things like spending copious amounts of time with you and taking photos of you whenever he could(both when you were aware and unaware)

The fact that you liked him back was not only a shock to him but to the whole family, especially drayton. You can just image chops jaw dropping after getting a letter while deployed that his twin brother actually has game

Isnt very good at flirting or just isn't experienced in the feild

He isnt as lewd as his twin when trying to hit on you but his....compliments?....just come out weird. "You look like you taste good" "WHAT?!" Tbh i think he means it😬

Your dates are mostly him getting into trouble doing things he shouldn't be doing. He likes to take you on his adventures to the slaughter house or leading victims (really all his date choices are morbid). If you get to choose the date however, sitting in a field or playing around a lake is sufficient

He also likes pain and constantly inflicts pain on himself. Will likely ask you to participate in hurting him or hurting yourself. He'll call you a baby at first if you decline but eventually leaves you alone about it after a while

He also enjoys playfighting with you because it gives him something to help dilute all that energy he has. If he cuts you in the process or knocks you over he'd be the type to mock your pain and over exaggerate his own if he gets hurt

Brings you random things he finds when scavenging around as gifts as well as polaroids of you doing everyday activities without the knowledge of you being photographed

If you find some photos hes taken of you without your knowledge laying around he'll scratch the back of his neck and shrug. Maybe even fiend innocence

Bothers you no matter what you're doing. You in the middle of doing chores? Nubbins will be there asking you anything under the sun just to get you to focus on him for a few minutes

At this point him getting on your nerves is fun for him since we've seen his reaction at getting under draytons skin. Constantly being stubborn about things he would have normally done like doing his chores or setting the table just because he wants you to force him

As far as bedroom wise hes not very skilled more than likely focuses mainly on you and bases alot of his moves on whats hes learned from films and magazines

[mommymothma]

The Roulette wheel has been spun and It landed on a Mon x Hera pairing which kind of pops off especially for the Ahsoka TV setting. Our girlies had a lot of time in the Rebellion yk?

Went to AO3 for some inspiration and landed on Priorities by my mutual @soloorganaas which definitely inspired this piece so go show some love to it on AO3

Her General

“I don't understand what your problem is,” Hera accused, and Mon recoiled at the sound of the door slam.

“You tell me you believe me, yet every time I try to get things done, you stand in my way.”

“Hera, please-”

“No, I know what you're going to say ‘it's not up to me’”, Hera mocked. “But it never is, is it? Tell me why we have a Chancellor, if she is so powerless?”

“I have the power, Hera. Using it is the problem. The republic I have instituted has powerful sanctions in place to keep me from doing things of my own volition. This is what we have fought for, democracy. I can't have my best General following the voices in someones head.”

“It's not voices, you know that. And they could know that too if you cared to explain it to them.”

“What the Jedi do is not my problem, Hera. Believe me, I have tried to make peace with them. I have tried to integrate them into the system. The only one that wants anything to do with me is Leia.”

“Ahsoka has worked with the rebellion for years, Mon. That's not fair. You trusted her once. She was Fulcrum. She was there for me. For the Ghost. She and Ezra and Kanan… they are a part of something bigger than us, Mon, bigger than the republic. If we don't listen to them I'm scared that we will lose them. We've lived in a galaxy without Jedi, Mon. And it took us twenty years to recover from it.”

Mon was trapped between her conviction, her status, politics, and her emotions. The whirlwind never stopped.

Mon. Hera was the only one that still called her that. She'd dropped ‘Senator’ a long time ago. She used ‘Chancellor' maybe twice. She was ‘Mon’ to her.

“You never cared before when I went rogue,” Hera reminded her, “I've always had an unorthodox approach to things, but I get it done, Mon. I got it done. Better than anyone else.”

“That was different,” Mon told her.

“Why? We may operate under the title of a Republic, but we are no different than we were when it was called a rebellion. Same people, the same soldiers. The same ships, missions, planets, galaxy. You're still at the top, and I'm still a General. Nothing has tangibly changed, Mon. So tell me again, why?”

Hera stood nose to nose with Mon now.

Mon couldn't meet her eyes. She didn't want to lie but the truth was worse. It was so much worse.

But it was the only thing she still had.

“Because back then you were doing it for me!” She yelled, refusing to meet Hera's eyes.

She sat on her desk, covering her face with her hands.

Hera just stood there, her eyes burning a hole into Mon's skin. Two death stars, setting the planet of her ablaze.

“Is that what this is about? You're jealous of Ahsoka?”

“No- I mean I don't know. I… I can't protect you anymore, Hera. Not like I used to. Ahsoka is a risk, Hera. She's unpredictable.”

“You've said that about me, too.”

“Exactly.” She whispered. She could feel the anger and frustration emanating off the Twi'lek. “I've seen the way you are together,” Mon explained, “I know how this ends.”

“I dont know why I'm surprised. You tell me to remove my feelings from the situation, yet here you are. Your jealousy is shrouding your decisions Mon. Let me remind you: You told me to go.” Hera shouted “You kicked me out. You told me that we were too complicated. You don't get to change your mind now that it's convenient.”

“I have regretted it every day since.”

“Would you change your decision, if you could?”

Mon closed her eyes, and shook her head.

Hera scoffed, leaning in to look Mon in the eye. Her hand gripped Mon’s jaw, forcing their eye contact.

“I am not your general, Mon. I am a Republic General. You don't get to save me for when it's convenient. You don't get to stop me from saving the Galaxy because you don’t want to lose me.”

“Your all I have left.” Mon whispered, and Hera’s grip relaxed.

“So that's it? If you can't have me, no one can? You'd rather Thrawn blow us all up?”

“Hera, of course not. I just…”

“I've heard enough. I'm going. I'll do the hearing and you can strip me of my honor. At least then I'll be a free woman, right? No more imperial colors. From the ashes of the old empire…” Hera stated, staring her down.

Mon met her eyes for a moment, but it was a losing battle. She waved her white flag by looking to the floor.

“I'll see you on the other side, Mon. At least now you can say there's no one holding you back.”

Hera left the door closing with a quieter noise, but a louder impact.

Mon was once again left alone. Abandoned by someone she loved. Maybe if she was better with words.

Or expressions.

Or being a Chancellor, Hera would've stayed.

Maybe if she wasn't so distracted by the imminent threat of defeat, and how she was secretly drawn to it.

Because deep down she wanted a way out.

She wanted the rebellion back.

Because Hera was wrong. Things had changed. They had changed. Things were easy. It was kill or be killed then. She could work with that. She was a survivor against a predator.

Now, she wasn't sure who the bad guy was.

And it was so much worse.

Sharing with the Republic had grown tiring. At least with the rebellion she could have things.

Things like love.

She just wanted her General back.

Instead she had cost the Republic a damn good one.

From the ashes of the old empire…

Hera hadn't spoken the rest. She didn't need to. Mon was all too familiar with the imperial sympathizer slogan.

We will build a new one.

Perhaps she already had.

[kraekat29]

Chapter Six

I laid on the couch, barely even paying attention to the movie that was on the tv, I was worn out.

JJ said he’s noticed I’ve been sleeping more often and my appetite has changed, he basically has to force me to eat.

My eyes closed from exhaustion when I felt him pull me onto his lap, with a happy sigh I snuggled closer to him.

The cleaning crew was coming to fix the room, currently we’ve been staying in the spare but that bed was now also broken.

He kissed my head then down my temple and my cheek until he got to my jaw, even though I was exhausted I welcomed it and tilted my head so he could have more access.

I felt him smirk then I heard a gasp, my eyes snapped open and my cheek turned red from embarrassment, she yelled something to JJ in her language and ran off, “ she thought I was eating you” he said with a laugh once I turned to him, “ see in her culture they believe vampires pry and seduce on beautiful women..” he said and went back to kissing my neck.

I laughed and shoved his head away, “ stop it! You’re gonna give the poor woman a heart attack!” I said and he shrugged, not minding the idea at all, “ JJ” I warned, “ alright alright I’ll behave “ he said and pulled me closer to him.

I often wondered if he’d miss me being human, my scent wouldn’t be as strong, I wouldn’t be as warm.. everything he loved about me would go away- but he’s assured me time and time again it’ll get better once I’m changed.

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

When I woke up the next morning I was alone, I expected him to be in the kitchen but he wasn’t , I looked down and saw a note saying he’d be back before I woke up, “ you’re late..” I mumbled and went over to the fridge.

We didn’t have much so I decided just to make chicken- but soon after I cooked it I realized the middle was raw and it made my stomach churn.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with nausea and covered my mouth, running into the bathroom, I dropped to my knees and puked- god did this suck.

I finally stopped and covered my mouth again before flushing the toilet, turning to see JJ in the doorway, “ I’m fine..” I said quietly and stood up, “ hey through sickness and health right?” He teased and i laughed, “ hand me my bag? Kie gave me some pepto “ I said and he nodded , handing it to me.

Only when I opened the box and saw the pads my thoughts started to race, “ what is it?” He asked, “ how long has it been since the wedding?” I asked, “ sixteen, why?” He asked, “ I’m late. I’ve never been late “ I said and stood up again.

I paused, staring at the mirror- no way that was not a small baby bump, I lifted my tank top and much to my horror it was, I put my hand over my stomach and jerked forward, something just moved inside me.

I looked over at JJ but his eyes were darkened, “ can this even happen?” I asked but he remained silent, great my husband went into shock.

His phone started to ring and I answered it, “ Kie?” I asked, “ Ruby oh my god! Are you okay? I saw-“ she said and paused, “ Kie what is it? What did you see?” I asked and kept one hand on my stomach, “ Ruby?” Heyward asked, “ yeah it’s me” I said, “ what’s going on? Is everything okay?” He asked, “ uh I’m a little worried- can vampires go into shock?” I asked and looked over at JJ.

He remained motionless and my heart thumped wildly, “ has he been harmed?” Heyward asked, “ no it’s nothing like that- look I know it’s impossible but I think that I’m pregnant “ I said, sounding way happier than I should’ve and my stomach jerked again, “ Heyward I swear something just moved inside me” I said and JJ suddenly came over and took the phone away from me.

They spoke too fast for me to understand and I had to practically run after JJ to keep up, he finally hung up the phone and turned towards me with the most pissed off expression I’d ever seen him have, “ we’re going home “ he growled and turned away from me.

All day after that was a blur, he wouldn’t even look at me again but I occupied myself , rubbing my thumb over my stomach and talking to it.

I looked up when he came in with the cleaning lady from yesterday, “ she’s making sure you’re still alive” he said and helped me stand up, the lady looked at me hesitantly and I nodded, allowing her to touch my stomach and lean in to hear my heartbeat, she said something in her language and walked away, shooting a glare at JJ.

His face fell and he slumped on the couch next to me, grabbing both of my hands, “ it’s gonna be okay.. Heyward will get that thing out of you” he said then went to finish packing.

I’d never been afraid of him until that moment, panic flooded my body, “ t-thing?” I said and stood up- no way in hell was he taking this baby from me.

I knew only one person could help me now, I took a deep breath and grabbed my phone, dialing Sage’s number.

[afterschool-labyrinth]

Afterschool Labyrinth chapter 2

When Alix woke up, she felt strange.

Opening her eyes, she found herself staring up at the hall's ceiling, with the bright lights shining in her face.

Wait... I was in Room 12A before... And why's the power on?

As she picked herself up off the floor, she looked around, searching for the others. They were nowhere in sight.

Where is everyone?

Even standing up, Alix felt so strange. She looked down at herself... and let out a yell of shock.

"W-What the?!"

Her body wasn't human anymore. Alix looked frantically around the empty building, soon settling on using the nearest window to look at her reflection.

What she saw reflected in the glass could only be described as a humanoid dolphin, with shiny black eyes and a single blowhole in place of a nose. Looking past the reflection to the outside, all Alix could see was stars.

A noise behind her caught her attention, a sound like the clop-clop of a horse's hoofbeats. Alix turned around, just as something rounded the corner.

She felt the blood drain from her face. Standing there was an impossibly long-limbed humanoid being, pale and bony. It seemed female, clad only in a brown top and loincloth, and stringy dark hair grew from its scalp in patches. Its body was twisted around in an unnatural position, allowing it to walk on its hands and feet.

It was like every nightmare Alix had had of being confronted by some horrible thing, being unable to scream or escape. All she could do was gurgle in horror and stagger back, only to fall backwards onto the floor on her backside.

The thing approached, allowing her to see its glowing red eyes set in pitch-black sclerae, and its mouth opened.

What happened next was not what Alix had expected. The creature actually spoke, and it was Gale's voice she heard. "Alix?"

Alix's jaw dropped. "Gale?" she gasped. "What... What the heck is going on?"

"I have no idea," Gale replied in puzzlement. "One second we were in Room 12A, the next..." She looked around at their surroundings. "I don't think this is the same school."

"So, wait," Alix scrambled to her feet. "The ritual actually worked? But why did we turn into these weird things?"

"Well the spell did say something about 'changing our forms'," Gale pointed out, as she led Alix down the hall. "I guess it really meant changing us into monsters."

"Geez..." Alix groaned. "I never thought I would get isekai'd for real!"

"Yeah, but you gotta admit," Gale looked over her shoulder at the 9-year-old. "It is more interesting than our regular school."

"That'd be a lot more convincing if your knees weren't shaking." Alix pointed out Gale's trembling legs.

"Look, I'm excited, okay?" Gale defended.

"Hey! It's me, Ethan!"

Ethan's new form looked like a cross between the Grim Reaper and the Ghost of Christmas Future, a floating figure in a tattered brown sleeved cloak. All that was visible under the dark hood was his now glowing yellow eyes. He floated towards the girls, accompanied by a porcelain doll in a blue dress, with her hair in a messy cut. It wasn't hard to tell who this was.

"Look at me!" Dolly gave a little twirl. "I'm a real dolly now! Look at my new dress, too!"

"She's been enjoying this since she got a good look at herself." Ethan admitted.

"At least she's happy." Gale said. "Where's Manny?"

"Over here." Manny called out from a fair distance. He now looked like his twin, with the brown loincloth and long-limbed, emaciated form, only his irises glowed white and his skin was fire-engine red.

As he approached, he noted "Looks like everybody got turned into freaks of nature, huh?"

"We don't know that," Ethan said hopefully. We still haven't found Shawn, Sammy and Wynn."

"OH, SWEET MOTHER OF GOD!!!" A familiar voice echoed from one of the classrooms.

"That would be Shawn." said Gale as she turned in the direction of his voice. The others followed her.

They soon found him in a room devoid of anything but an old TV set on a wheeled stand with a videocassette and a VCR player. Shawn's new form looked like a clown, but his head was now a giant left ear. Beside him was what looked like a pale blue mask with large eyes seemingly floating in midair.

"Bro, calm down!" Sammy tried to reassure Shawn. "It could be worse!"

"How could it?!" Shawn protested. "My head's a freaking EAR! How am I still talking!?"

"Hey, I'm a weird thingy too," Sammy pointed out. "I don't see why you're complaining."

At this moment, Shawn noticed what the others had become, and his voice seemed to rise an octave. "GAH!"

"Shawn, it's us!" Alix reassured.

"Wh-" Even with an ear for a head, Shawn was still capable of a double-take. "Guys?!"

"Yup," Manny confirmed. "Apparently, we've all been mutated into monsters."

"What about Wynn?" Gale asked. "She's still missing."

It was then that Ethan heard movement behind him. He turned around...

His high-pitched scream startled everyone but Wynn, who simply tilted her now-large head. "You look funny." was all she said.

Wynn's new body was perhaps the biggest of the group's, with her form that of a massive snake, albeit with skin instead of scales. Her head was vaguely humanoid, with skeletal features, a wide mouth and bulging eyes. No wonder Ethan was spooked, which was an understatement.

"God, Wynn!" Ethan gasped, shaken. "I could've just died here!"

"Sorry," Wynn apologized.

As she slithered into the room, Manny spoke up. "Well since we're all together again, what now?"

"Obviously we find a way back home, and outta these bodies!" Shawn answered. "What else?"

"Yeah, but how are we gonna do that?" Ethan asked. "We don't even know what kinda world this is."

While they were talking, Wynn took notice of the videotape and VCR. "Maybe this?"

She just managed to grasp the tape with the tip of her tail, and insert it into the player. As she turned on the TV, Dolly perked up. "Oh, are we watching a movie now? Cool!"

"I don't think now is the time to-" Ethan began, when the video began to play. A cheerful voice narrated over images of the school.

"Welcome to Xaginda Academy, located right at the heart of Dimension Arc! Here, our goal is to mold young entities, both humanoid and non, into wiser beings ready to face the world head-on. For help or complaints, please take the issue up with our Teacher Unit. If you see a student acting out of line, please report to our Hall Monitor."

"Well, at least this school has some sense." remarked Shawn.

The tape continued. "If it's you acting out of line, well, then may Lady Otryla have mercy on your pitiful soul. If by some unforeseen circumstance you crossed realms to here unintentionally, simply find the special golden key back to Dimension 3."

"The key..." Alix realized. "'The key home shall be our goal', that's what we need to do! Find the golden key."

"However, if you are unable to find it in any of the Academy's rooms, then it's probably in the hands of the Principal. To consult the Principal, locate the Principal's office. Thank you, and good luck!" With that, the video ended.

"So, before we go searching in any of the other rooms here," Gale guessed. "We need to check the principal's office, right?"

"Yeah, if we can find it." Manny replied.

Wynn seemed to perk up, before she slithered back out of the room. "Where're you going?" Shawn asked.

"Think I saw it before..." Wynn answered. At this, the others followed her.

After a few minutes of searching, Wynn suddenly spoke up. "Found it!"

"Alright!" Manny grinned.

"Finally!" Shawn bolted for the door. "I have a few choice words for this school's principal."

He knocked on the door. No answer.

"Wait, Shawn, think about this," Ethan cautioned. "What if the principal here's some hideous abomination?"

"Look, we've all been turned into abominations, right?" Shawn responded, as he opened the door. "There's probably nothing here that can-"

He was cut off when he walked right into a brick wall. Falling flat on his back, he yelled out "OH, COME ON! SERIOUSLY?!"

Sammy looked at the wall. "Man, that's kinda messed up putting a wall here." he noted.

"What is even the point of doing what the video told us if this is here?!" Alix exclaimed in exasperation.

"Unfortunately, the Principal is not here at the moment."

At that voice, the children turned to see some sort of retro-looking machine with arms moving towards them. "Whoa, you're a robot!" Dolly marveled.

"Are you new here?" the robot spoke in an electronic yet feminine voice. "If so, then allow me to introduce myself: I am CODEX, Xaginda Academy's Head Teacher Unit."

"So..." Manny summed up. "Definitely a robot."

"What do you mean the principal's not here?" Alix asked CODEX.

"Sometimes the Principal leaves the office to wander about the rooms." came the reply. "Until the Principal's return, the Hall Monitor is currently in charge."

"Well, maybe this hall monitor can tell us where your principal is," Shawn reasoned. "After all, we're here in these bodies against our will."

"That might prove difficult," CODEX explained. "The Hall Monitor is incapable of speech. His only directive is to enforce the Academy's rules."

If Shawn still had even any semblance of a face, that would have fallen. "What kinda hall monitor is he any-"

A low growl rumbled from one of the hallways. The children slowly turned their heads to see something massive emerge from the shadows.

What they saw had the bodily shape of a doberman, yet it stood upright on two legs. Its fur was dark grey, and it regarded them with flaming scarlet eyes.

"Perfect. Just what we need," Manny stated, trying to keep his cool, even though his body was no longer human. "A school mascot that can kill people."

[baurbiediv]

summer games

a/n: pt. 2! thank yall sm for the love on the first part, i appreciate it sm <3, also sorry for the late post, i know i promised it to be released earlierrrr

tw: some yelling, cursing, angst nd fluff

liked by badgalriri, latto777, theestallion, druski2funny, urbanwyatt and 490,832 others

YOURINSTAGRAM popping plan b’s cause i ain’t plan to be stuck with you. <3

view comments (23,272)

MISSIONARIESJACK oh im about to be a d1 instigator frl

↳ LUVVYN YOU’RE SICKKKKK 😭😭😭😭😭

UNFORGETTABLEJACK jack gotta be rolling around on the floor crying somewhere

↳ YNSECLIPSE oh he probably is 💀💀

THEESTALLION much love to you bae 🤎

↳ YOURINSTAGRAM love you tons meg, can’t wait 2 see you 💗

.⋆｡⋆˚｡｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

“what the hell is going on with you and y/n?” urban asks jack while keeping his eyes on the tv. it had been nearly three weeks since the last time you and jack had spoken to each other since your argument. urban looks over at jack with low eyes. “jack if you truly love her why would you allow yourself to go on a break?” urban asks. jack sits for a moment and thinks to himself. “i mean she suggested it, if she agreed to if then so be it.”

while scrolling through his phone still listening to jack, urban’s eyes widen while scrolling upon your post before liking it. “yo jack, she posted.” he says while handing the phone over to him. jack’s eyes widen as they wander to the caption. his jaw nearly drops down to the floor as he reads it out loud. “popping plan b’s cause i ain’t plan to be stuck with you?”, urban laughs to himself before turning his head to the side to look at jack. “yo urban what the hell does this mean?” urban shakes his head and shrugs.

“i know exactly what imma do.”

.⋆｡⋆˚｡｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

before you knew it you were getting a notification from instagram saying druski was going live with jack. you joined and immediately could see that jack was leaning back in his seat staring at a computer screen while also looking at the comments. upon seeing your user pop up jack smirked at the camera. druski had requested for you to join, you couldn’t resist to not join as you smile as druski already begins his antics. as soon as you joined the comments began flooding in.

stunnajack OMG Y/N IS IN HERE

icedouty/n BRO JACK WHAT YOU DO TO Y/N.

lowkeyjack druski if jack broke up with y/n, get them back together. NOW!

alexsilas y/n is fine asfk

“ayo, so y/n, i peeped your recent post, what’s up with the caption?” druski asks you while his signature smirk is plastered on his face. you see jack shift in his seat as his eyes divert to the camera. you were laying down on your bed while on laying on your stomach. “well you know, my friend megan, released her new song ‘plan b’, and you know i just thought i’d help promote the song since she’s my friend and what not.” you say while smiling.

“ayo .. look alexsilas .. i don’t know who you are but you gotta chill, that’s my girl and you’re overstepping your boundaries homeboy.” jack spoke up. nobody had really known about your ‘break’ besides jack’s group and yours. you knew that if you made it public all hell would break loose and the internet would lose its damn mind. plus blogs would be all over this for only who knows how long.

after hearing jack call the dude out, you giggle to yourself. “ooh jack you got your lady all giggly and shit,” druski says. “shut up druski.” you and jack both simultaneously say at the same time which caused all three of you to burst out laughing. for the first time in a few weeks, you’d actually felt happy about talking to jack without feeling the urge to break down.

“ight man, imma get outta here, i got something important i gotta do for an important woman in my life right now. imma hit you up later man.” jack spoke. you blew a kiss to him before he left the live. druski pretends to catch the kiss as he stares at his hand.

dojacat DRUSKI LMFAOO 😭😭😭

icedouty/n this mf plays too much

jacksserenity jack is gonna get on his ass 😭😭

“yeah, look, if jack is watching this i’m going to be in trouble forreal.” you say as you start laughing. “y/n .. he ain’t gotta know -“, you leave before he could even manage to get another word out. “man she is so fine!” druski exclaimed before ending the live.

not even 20 minutes later you receive a text from jack

jack 💓

you still mad at me stink? i don’t care, i’m coming over.

i really miss you and i’m sorry for being an ass

you feel yourself smile and the text, truth be told, you missed him as well. it was difficult not always being able to communicate one on one with jack, but it was the little things like him apologizing that truly reminded you as to why you’d fallen for the boy. yes you could be mad at each other but not like this. this was something you never wanted to experience again.

disrupting you from your thoughts, you heard a knock from the living room. you hurry over to the door and unlock it. you open the door to see jack holding a bouquet of flowers and a cheesy grin plastered on his face. before you know it he’s already stepping into the doorway closing the door and hugging you as tight as he can as you do the same.

“y/n, i don’t ever wanna be mad at you the i was. i can’t do this ever again.” he says as his head is buried in the crook of your neck. you nod in agreement. “me too jack, these have probably been the longest three weeks of my life.” you both pull away from the hug as you two walk into the kitchen. you find a vase for the flowers as you pull the vase from an empty cupboard.

jack watches you in complete awe as you put the flowers in the vase and fill it up. ‘man am i so lucky’ he thinks to himself. he couldn’t help but fall in love all over again. he couldn’t help but think about how much of a better person you make him. he couldn’t lose you again and he meant that.

“jack ..?” you say waving your hand slightly in his face. “yeah baby?” he says snapping out of his thoughts. you laugh to yourself before grabbing his hand and leading him into the living room and plopping down onto the couch together. you immediately attach yourself to his side as his arm finds his way around you pulling you to him as close as he could.

“i love you y/n.” jack spoke.

“i love you too jack.” you said looking up at him. he looks down at you and presses a quick kiss to your lips before turning back and turning on the tv.

you and jack knew you both had each other. you had learned to love him and he had learned to love you. the two of you have each other through thick and thin. and he would make sure to let anyone know that.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

a/n: just wanted to thank y’all for all the love on pt. 1 and again im sorry again for the late post! this is also the last fic for summer games, but request anything else you’d like to see! <3

[angelic-vibez]

Jungkook | Silent treatment

Summary; Jungkook gives you a silent treatment after your cat ruins his whole gaming setup

Genre; quiet angsty but fluff ending and kissesss

It's not like anyone is gunna read this cuz.. yall I'm at zerroo followers. But if anyone happens to stumble upon it... enjoy my friend :)

You leaned you're head against the wall and stared at you're boyfriend who sat on the couch with his dog on his lap as he scrolled through his phone. Sighing loudly you walked over and sat beside him.

"For how long are you going to keep ignore me?" You asked yet gotten no reply. Just like it has been the past few days. "Please Jungkook at least say something. I really didn't mean-"

Before you were able to finish explaining- or even begin to explain- he shot up from his seat and walked away calling his dog behind him. You sighed again and laid your head back on the couch. You were beginning to feel hoplees Your cat instantly jumped on you making herself comfortable on your lap. You stroked her fluffy white hair as you remembered what had went down a few days ago.

You're grand mother had gifted you this beautiful cat before she passed away. You adored the cat though It was creating a complete mess having her around the house. You decided to be patient with her, potty train her and thought it was just until she gets used to the environment.

Jungkook on the other hand was having it. He didn't ask you to get rid if her he knows what she means to you, but he'd always sigh and groan and get frustrated to clean up the mess she made or he'd always ask you to put her on a leash. He also has a couple of scratches getting him even more mad than he already is. Yet the man chose to stay patient.

It was until one night when you were making dinner in the kitchen you heard a loud noise from up the stairs. You walked to check following the directions of the continuous noise. You heart begins to accelerate when you reached Jungkooks gaming room. Once you open the door, your jaw dropped to the floor as you watched the complete mess you're cat made unfolding before you.

She meows and brushes against your legs wanting attention. "Oh my God! What have you done!" You almost yelled.

Pillows were thorn. His Xbox and joysticks were laying around broken. Everything was a mess including his chair and TV screen. You don't even know how she managed to do all this.

"Babe, are you alright?" He rushed toward you only to notice the complete horror caused in his room.

"Jungkook I-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He walks in and looks around grabbing whatever in his reach yet only to notice it was broken. It's not like Jungkook can't buy ten gaming set up if he wanted to but the fact that he told you to keep your cat on a leash many times and you didn't listen got him infuriated.

"Babe, I'm so sorry I-" he didn't give you another second as he walked past you with boiling rage.

Ever since then, he hasn't spoken to you a single word. You understood he needed his space because he was mad at you. So you gave him his space and in the mean time you managed to train your cat and she seemed to completley change. That still didn't matter though because it has been a week and a half since you're boyfriend talked to you or changed his gaming set up.

You tried again. You talked to him. You told him you trained your cat- which he really didn't seem to give a shit about- you cleaned up the mess though things still remained to be broken.

You tried to cuddle him but to only be pushed away. You'd tell him about you're day hoping he'd just give in and talk to you but it quiet seemed impossible. You made him his favorite food but he ate in he's room while you ate alone at the dining table.

He'd go out more than usual even though he's taking a break and not working at the moment. He'd possibly do anything to avoid you and he hasn't seen you in a couple of days.

Sitting along his hyungs in the room and just chilling and talking, the only person on his mind was you. He felt absolut guilt. It wasn't entirely your fault and you've already apologized. He also remeberd the time bam bam peed on you favorite dress and you didn't complain telling him it was totally fine.

Now you're begging seemed to stop. You hadn't texted or called him in two days. Even though he absolutely knew he won't be replying to any of them, he still wanted to see those things since it kept his calm. He checked every second but only to see your last text. Where you told him you were very sorry, that it was all your fault along with a sad face emoji.

Telling his hyungs he wanted to go home, he immediately left and got in his car. The unusual traffic had him thinking all but you and regretting what he had done when he remembered all of those times you begged him to forgive you on the verge of tears yet he just left you to be on you're own. He's jaw sets as he shook his head.

Once he had arrived home he rushed through the front door. The house sounded awfully quiet. He wanted to call out to you but instead he decided to search around for you. He looked everywhere but he couldn't find any sign of you. He opened his gaming room as he passed by it. His eyes widen at the sight. Everything was fixed to an even upgraded set up. He wondered how this happened because this was some next level shit. He knew you never had that kind of money to spend and he'd be notified if you had used any of his. But he looked around to see everything in place, new and so expensive.

"Y/n! ....Y/n!" He began to call out you're name.

"I'm in the kitchen!" He sighs in relief when he gets a response. Rushing down stairs he was so glad to see you. He had to stop himself from engulfing you into a bear hug.

"How... um... how did you.." he struggles to find the words since he'd been ignoring you for a while now he felt embarrassed to talk to you after what you've done for him.

"It's okay Jungkook. You don't have to feel the need to talk to me just because I fixed you're set up" you say walking back and forth making some dinner "you can keep pretending I don't exist"

He feels another wave of guilt washes over him. "But how?"

"I used up all my savings" he paused for a second. He knew you've been saving up to repair the house of you're grandfather 'cause he'd been struggling a little after his wife passed and it has been a bit hard for him to get back on his two feet. Jungkook had offered to help but you had politely declined because you wanted to do this yourself to who almost raised you like a father when he wasn't around. But now you used up all the savings on his stupid game and he begins to realise how much he had hurt you.

"Baby.. you didn't have to... you really didn't have to do that" he tried getting close to you while you contiuned to make a quick ramen for the both of you.

"You really didn't have to. You're cat is probably gunna mess it up all again.." he joked a little.

"Oh I got rid of her. I gave her away to animal shelter so no worries" you gave him a simple smile before getting back to your work but his face completley drops. This was beginning to hurt him.

"Y/n? Why?"

You sigh as you feel your eyes begin to sting a little. You've been trying to forget about it. "Isn't it what you wanted? Just- keep ignoring me and let me deal with this in peace please" you politely asked as you finished making the ramen and walked away with one. You sat on the couch and begin to stuff you're mouth with the noodles as tears continued to stream down your cheeks. You keep trying to ignore the fact that you gave away the only thing that reminded you of your grandmother who loved you so much and you wondered what she would've said if she had know what happened.

But you're boyfriend, the love of you're life, avoiding you any chance he got was painful. It hurt and you begin to feel like shit.

You felt his precense when he came near and sat on the coffee table looking at you, worried. You ignored the fact that tears were gushing down your face as you ate and tried to watch tv.

"Babe.. I'm so sorry I ignored you. I- this...all this wasn't your fault and I'm sorry for making you feel-"

"If anything, I'm the one who who should be sorry. It's not your fault" you said whiping your tears as you continued to eat your food "Just forget about it and go eat before your food gets cold"

Jungkook sighs and hangs his head low because this was beginning to hurt him. He felt like he wanted to cry, the lump on his throat was thick. Even after what he had done to you you still showed you cared so much about him. But after he got his food to eat with you, you were already gone.

___

It was an exhausting day at school. You're professor had given you a lot of project to do and you walked home wondering how you're going to do all of it as well as begin to save money again. Because you also needed to work part time.

"Hello?" You said to your phone after getting a call.

"Y/n my beautiful daughter" you heard your grandfather's shaky voice from the other line.

"Granpa.. hi. How are you?" You asked feeling sad knowing it's going to take you time before you helped him.

"I don't know how to thank you for what you've done for me" he says and you begin to get confused "thank you so much. My house finally feels like a home. You paid my loans and my fridge is full with groceries and I'm also taking my medicine"

Your brows furrowed as you begin to recall if you had done any of this, which you haven't.

"Pops I didn't do anything-"

"This isn't anything. This means so much to me. I love you and I'll never be able to repay your kindness. I hope you come see me sometime soon" he says and you begin to think what the hell might be going on.

"No I literally didn't-" you were cut off once again and he wasn't able to hear what you were trying to explain.

"I love you. Good bye now"

He hang up after you had told him you loved him too and you stood there for a second processing what just happened. Walking back to the apartment, you decided to ask Jungkook if he had anything to do with this. But once you opened the front door, you felt a familiar sensation around your legs and looked down to see your cat.

"Oh my god" you whispered as you hang your coat and squat down to make sure if it was really her "Oh my god. What are you doing here?" You beamed with smile as you hugged the little cat who clung back to you.

"Hey babe" you looked up to see Jungkook smiling at you.

"Do you have anything to do with this?" You asked putting her down "or my grandfather?" You walked closer to him.

"Babe you deserve this and more" he says pulling you into a warm hug you missed so much. But you pushed him away.

"I'll pay you back. All of it" you said and tried walking past him to begin your work but he only pulled you back to press his lips against yours with a passionate kiss. He kissed you like he was hungry, like he was craving for your soft skin. He picks you up and places you on the kitchen counter before he continues to deepen the kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth to taste what he had missed all this time.

You finally pushed him parting your reddened lips and looking at him in confusion.

"My love, I'm so sorry. After what I've done to you and after what you've done for me, I feel nothing but a complete shit" he explains giving you a couple of pecks on your mouth. "I've transferred a couple million into your account" he says with a sly smirk.

"What-Jun-"

"Shhhh" he cuts you off kissing you again "you never let your boyfriend take care of you or spoil you. Stop arguing with me or I'll add a couple more" he smiles.

"But my grandfather thinks I've done all this for him" who whisper against his lips since he was pulling you as close as he could to feel your warm precense and scent close to him again.

"So? You're the one who did it. Not me" he says and you playfully hit his chest making him laugh a little.

"You're the one who'd been saving in the first place. You also offered to buy him a new house but he told you he wanted to stay where he could always remember his wife" he explain and you feel your eyes begin to well up once again when you understood what he had done. "I hope we grow old to be like them, except we die together"

You begin to playfully hit his chest as you calling him an idiot tears running down your face.

"Will you kiss your idiot? 'Cause he missed you so much" he says holding your small face in his big hands and whiping your tears with his thumb before he pulls you into another kiss.

°

°

© angelic-vibez 2022. Do not edit, translate or copy.

[yelenabelovasbxtch]

7-Minutes in Heaven

Yelena Belova X f!reader

A/n: hey everyone! Sorry it’s been a hot min since I’ve posted. Been having some issues feeling motivated but I’ve finally been able to relax and catch up on sleep now for a couple of days and watched some tv. So, I’m ready to get back to it and also celebrate 1K followers very soon! Anyways, has anyone seen the movie crush? It’s a LGBTQ+ movie and just came out…anyways…this fic is INSPIRED by a scene in this movie! I hope you enjoy! Lmk if you wanna be added to my Yelena taglist!

Word count: 1721

Warnings: fluff, making out, angst, Yelena being a cutie

Concept: You and Yelena are secretly crushing on one another and neither of you know it. Your feelings are revealed at a party when you play 7 minutes in heaven.

Taglist: @jeyramarie @flosbelova @bridgecitybrad @justthis-stuff @chloe7076 @ailenepuff @3xbyrn320 @thorya22 @ravenclawbitch426 @mellowladyangel @wandanatvoid @amcg0605-blog @kassies-take @yelenaswife1996 @wandanatchick @yelenaslyubov

“Kate Bishop I already said no,” Yelena says in an aggravated tone as she yanks her hand out of Kate’s grasp.

“Yelena! It will be fun. You need to get out more and socialize I can’t be your only friend here.”

“You’re not my only friend.” She replies in a snarky tone.

“Oh yeah? Then who else?”

“Uhhh the spider-boy. Parker.”

“He is my friend that hangs out with us who by the way you scare every time.”

“Well, I still hang out with him so he’s my friend too now. See? That’s more than enough and I have Natasha too, I don’t need anyone else to care about and I use the term care very loosely.”

“Not even y/n?” Kate replies with a bit of tease in her voice.

Suddenly Yelena’s smile drops off her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yelena, c’mon. It is so obvious you have feelings for her.”

“I don’t even know who this y/n is.”

“Okay Lena, if you say so, how about to prove you don’t have feelings for her, you come to the party tonight and when you see her, try your best not to freeze up and maybe I’ll believe you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“You’re not going to give this up are you.”

“Nope.”

“Fine. But I swear Kate Bishop, there will be no funny business or else.”

“You don’t scare me Belova.”

Yelena’s eyes widen as her jaw clenches in Kate’s direction.

“Okay, maybe you scare me a little. C’mon, get ready and we can head out”

Yelena, went back to her room to get changed.

“Wow, Lena, you look great! I didn’t know you owned clothing that wasn’t gym attire.”

“Yeah, Yeah.”

Yelena was wearing a beige and blue striped shirt with a long black and beige patchwork trench coat finished with black pants and a whole lot of chains and rings. Yelena wore her hair down and you could see how nicely her bangs flowed down the sides of her face. She really looked amazing, it was giving hot chick but one you don’t want to mess with.

Yelena and Kate showed up at Liz’s house for the party only about an hour late but most people were showing up around the same time anyways. As soon as they arrived Yelena practically b-lined it straight for the vodka. As she was pouring herself a drink and one for Kate she saw you walk through the door. You were wearing a beautiful sundress and had arrived with Peter and Ned. As Yelena was practically drooling over how amazing you look, as always, she poured herself another shot to calm the nerves.

“What’s wrong Belova? Somebody got you a little nervous?”

Yelena shoots Kate a look.

“Hey y/n!” Kate yells, waving her hand.

Yelena felt like she wanted to melt into the floor at this point but also knew she had to put on a face to prove to Kate she had no feelings for you.

“Hey, Kate!” you said as you pulled her in for a big hug.

As the two of you pulled apart you immediately looked over at Yelena and held your arms open as you greeted her too. Yelena felt stiff at first but then relaxed into your arms for a little but longer of a hug than you gave Kate. As the two of you looked peaceful hugging each other, Kate and Peter shot one another a confused look.

“So, what’re you drinking Lena?” you ask.

“Vodka.”

Well, that was a short conversation.

“Vodka? That sounds…fun.”

“Yes, it is. Want some?”

You had never done a proper shot before, Peter’s aunt pretty much always just bought you guys coolers and that was plenty considering you were kind of a lightweight. “Sure!” One shot can’t hurt, right?

The two of you took a shot and eventually went your separate ways after minimal conversation. Yelena always acted kind of weird around you but you never understood why. Yes, the thought crossed your mind that maybe you annoyed her, was it obvious you crushed on the blonde assassin? I mean like, who wouldn’t? She was hot, could kill you and her accent? You knew about all your friend’s “secret abilities” even though you’re not part of the team. You and Ned pretty much just helped them out whenever they needed it until Ned discovered he’s got powers too and now it’s just you on your own.

“Everyone! Gather around! We are going to play a game!” Liz yelled with Kate standing next to her.

“So, has anyone heard of the game…7-minutes in heaven?” Kate asks as all the drunk teens scream in excitement. “Well, if you don’t know the rules, they’re simple, put your phone in the bag, if yours is picked, you go 7-minutes with the other person in the bathroom. Now, granted that we aren’t barbaric if you don’t want to kiss…that’s fine. We won’t force you but you’re still going to be locked in there for 7 minutes!”

“Got it? Good. Phones in the bag!” Liz says as she holds out a pillowcase where people drop their phones in.

You were sitting with some friends from school as Yelena was quietly sipping her drink at the back of the room. About 5 rounds of 7-minutes have gone down and everyone was having a great time, laughing and drinking, then, all of a sudden, your phone got pulled out of the bag. Kate was the one pulling them and she was rummaging through them for quite a bit of time before pulling the second one out. As she holds the second phone in the air, you’re scanning the room trying to find the owner when all of a sudden your eyes land on a shocked Yelena Belova.

“Yelena?” Kate asks as she tries to find where she is.

Yelena walks to the bathroom as you follow behind as the door shuts behind the two of you and you hear the lock click from the outside.

“They know we can unlock it from the inside right?” Yelena says in a snarky tone.

“Yeah…not sure why they do that…must be for the “effect”” You say with a laugh.

The bathroom wasn’t too big but it was big enough that you could both sit next to one another with your legs out and still be about a foot away from the wall. The lights were off but the room was dimly lit with a strip of purple LED’s running along where the ceiling meets the wall.

“So…I don’t see you at Liz’s parties often.” You say in a desperate and slightly pathetic attempt to make conversation with her.

“Kate Bishop dragged me to this one she said it would be good for me so I could–” Yelena pauses.

“So…you could…what?”

“Nothing.”

You raise an eyebrow at her as you look into her eyes with purple lights reflecting in them. God, she was beautiful. The way her lips slightly downcurved unless she was smiling, her nose, oh my god her nose is perfect.

“So I could…meet…you?”

“Meet me? Yelena, we’ve met before.”

“No– That’s not what I meant, I meant– ugh. I’m sorry, I am no good at this.”

“What aren’t you good at love? Maybe I can help?” You replied with a head tilt and the biggest puppy dog expression while also being completely clueless about what she was trying to say and how difficult you were making this for her.

“I just– Kate Bishop says that I like you.”

“Kate says…? That you like me…?”

“Yes–”

“So Kate says that but you don’t…?”

“Yes– I mean no. I mean yes I do like you but Kate is the one who made me realize I do have feelings for you. I’m sorry I just– I’ve never had the ability to really have my own feelings like this before so now that I can, I just– I didn’t know what they were but now I am sure. I do in fact like you y/n. I just wanted to–”

Yelena was rambling in the most adorable way but you decided to cut her off by grabbing her face and pulling her in for a kiss that started off a little more aggressive from built-up nerves but settled into something much more soft and passionate.

Yelena was tense and nervous at first but when your lips touched all of those emotions flooded away and suddenly she felt secure and relaxed with you in her arms. As the two of you shared what were both of your first kisses, you were falling in love, even more than you already were. You both pulled away, your lips only parted about an inch from one another as your foreheads touched and your hands rested on the others cheek.

“I like you too Lena.”

Yelena’s lips curled up into a smile when she heard you speak.

“And I have something to admit…I’m actually the reason you’re here. I asked Kate to bring you because I wanted to see you too.”

Yelena’s eyes were slightly glazed over, her heart felt like it was going to explode with emotions. She’s never felt this happy before and whenever you were around it just made her automatically smile. She leaned back in to press her lips into yours and after another minute of uninterrupted making out, there were three loud knocks on the door, signalling you guys to come out.

“Want to get out of here?” You ask Yelena as she pulls you off the floor.

“Well, we have to no? That is the point? 7-Minutes and then we exit the bathroom?”

You look at Yelena and let out a small chuckle and smile as you bring your palm up to her cheek and pull her in for a light peck on the lips. “You’re adorable Lena. I meant to you want to go back to my place?”

Lena’s cheeks were a little flushed after making out but also from the slight embarrassment she was feeling from that. She nods her head with a soft smile and you grab her hand, pulling her out of the washroom, through the house and out the front door. You were taking the hot blonde assassin home tonight and god were you excited for what was to come.

— the end —

[withcolebrock]

Lovely

Corpse Husband x fem reader

Summary: Y/N surprises Corpse on his birthday

Warnings: a few swear words

Word count: 1,818

Author’s Note: happy early birthday Corpsey!! I thought about writing a birthday fic and this is what I cam up with, I hope you guys enjoy it. Also please tell me I’m not the only person that remembers Mario Super Sluggers, one of the best Mario games and I stand by that, that’s all. 

~~~

Corpse was never big on birthdays. He hated the attention it brought on him, he hated the idea of celebrating himself like that. He stopped recognizing his birthday when he was fifteen. Never acknowledge the day as something special. Until he met Y/N. Three years ago he met Y/N through social media and she was the first person he felt comfortable enough to show his face to.

The two were never romantically involved, per say, but they definitely had romantic feelings for each other. Their friends were big on teasing them about their feelings for each other, Felix and Sean always had a field day with this. Their friend group thought it was peak comedy. Even Corpse would admit that it was hilarious listening to Sean try to impersonate his voice.

Y/N and Corpse first met on his birthday, he invited her to come over and hang out. She happily accepted the offer. Ever since then Corpse has started to look forward to his birthday because he knew they would spend all day together. He knew he would be happy and smiling the whole day because of her.

He was laying in bed watching one of Dream’s Manhunts. He lifted his phone from his side table to begin to scroll through Twitter. It was the same old tweets and not a lot of tweets from his friends, quite boring. He reached to place it down when he saw a phone call from Y/N. His pinked lips curled up softly as he spent a few seconds admiring the photo of her in his merch hoodie that he took.

“Y/N, Hey,” he said while putting the phone on speaker. He cleared his throat while he rested the phone on his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Corpse,” she whispered, a small whimper left her lips. Corpse furrowed his eyebrows as he adjusted the pillow under his head.

“What’s wrong, Hun?” he asked.

“I can’t make it tomorrow, my car won’t start and my brother came to look at it and it looks like I need a new battery and possibly an alternator, I’m so sorry Corpse, I really wanted to see you,”

Corpse let her finish talking while he felt his heart sink at her words. She was all he was looking forward to seeing for weeks. He spent a few days cleaning his apartment, making it spotless. He went out to the store to buy her favorite alcohol and other snacks. “It’s fi-Don’t worry about it, it’s okay,” he whispered. He tapped his finger against his laptop while clenching his jaw.

“We will still celebrate your birthday, I promise, we will still have a good day, okay?” she offered.

“Yeah, of course, it’ll still be good. Yeah, we can-yeah we can do something over discord,” he explained while he tossed his computer to the other side of his bed as he slowly pushed himself off the bed.

“Are you mad?” she asked, her voice was barely audible.

“No of course not, it’s something out of your control, it’s okay I promise,” he responded while he left his bedroom. His gaze looked all over his freshly cleaned apartment, that never looks this nice and put together, “I was just excited to see you is all,” the words fell from his lips without realizing. His eyes widened as she was silent on her end of the phone.

“I was excited too,” she whispered. After a few more minutes they ended their phone call with a quick shared goodbye. He rested his phone down on the counter as he continued to frustratingly clench his jaw. His gaze shifted towards the bottle of Vodka in the corner of his kitchen. He sighed while he reached for it and quickly untwisted it. He brought it to his lips and took a quick sip of it. He cringed as he set the bottle down on the counter while twisting the lid back on.

“How does she like this shit,” he muttered as he shook his head again at the after taste. He walked towards his bathroom, while dropping his head slightly.  He rested his phone and his watch down onto the bathroom counter. He looked into the mirror briefly before shifting his gaze back towards his feet. He started to take off his clothes to get into the shower and to try and rush the end of the day. He wanted to try and sleep to get Y/N off of his mind.

~~~

He was surprised when he woke up when he realized he did in fact fall asleep for a while. It was late past nine o’clock when he reached for his phone on his side table. He opened Twitter to see hundreds of thousands of birthday tweets from fans. His face softens as his lips curled up into a smile.

Over the years his fans would tell him happy birthday, over social media but this year felt different. The constant messages rolling through slowly started forming tears into his eyes. The amount of endless love he always received from his fans always made him feel better and slightly more secure than last time. His eyes filled with more tears as he saw his friends tweet sweet little birthday messages. A few tears slipped his eyes as he began to reply to their tweets and private messages.

He raised his hand as he wiped his eyes. He shook his head as she slowly stood up from his bed while he kept his phone in his hand. The birthday messages and wishes were a quick and short distraction from the one person he wanted to see. The one person who made him excited for his birthday again. He sighed as he opened his fridge, taking a bottle of water.

The silence in his apartment was heartbreaking, despite the love and appreciation he felt from his fans and his friends, he was still alone. He never wanted to remember the feeling of being alone on his birthday again. He loved the joy and love he felt from Y/N when she would spent the day with him. He wiped his eye as he rested his phone beside his bottle of water when it started to ring. He quickly cleared his throat as he answered the phone.

“Open the door,” she spoke. Corpse’s eyebrows furrowed as he stood silently while he waited for her to elaborate, “Open the door, please,” she continued. He chuckled nervously as he kept the phone to his ear as he wandered towards the door. He looked through the peep hole to see Y/N standing holding a small cake. He chuckled as he pulled the door open. She smiled widely when she saw him. His smile was as wide as it could go as he was at a loss for words. His body was tense as he looked deeply into her eyes. “Happy birthday,” she whispered as she stared towards him. Corpse slowly brought his phone down into his hoodie pocket as he reached out for the cake.

“I thought you couldn’t come,” he said as he walked towards the kitchen. She placed her phone into her jean pocket as she kept her gaze on Corpse.

“Suprise?” she let out while she ran her fingers through her hair. He chuckled as he turned to face her. He leaned his body against the counter while he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Come here,” he said, barely audible. She rushed towards him delicately wrapping her arms around him as he slowly did the same. He took a long deep breath as he ran his hand slowly up and down her back. His eyes shut as he fought off the tears of joy filling his eyes. He sniffed, as she pulled away from him.

‘Are you okay?” she asked as she stood in front of him, anxiously playing with her sleeves. He nodded as he chewed at his bottom lip.

“I’m just happy you’re here is all,”

~~~

They sat together with a half eaten chocolate cake with a half a bottle of wine, with Mario Super Sluggers on the TV screen. She leane her head back laughing as she watched Corpse try and get Bowser to get to first base. “Come on, come on, come on, Oh fuck that!” he yelled through a few chuckles. Y/N gets Diddy Kong to get Bowser out. “Oh come on Bowser you’re supposed to be all strong and shit what is this bullshit,” he complained while he sat back down on the couch. She leaned her head back as she began laughing hysterically.

“I think it’s just you, Hun, this aint got nothing to do with Bowser,” she explained. He shook his head while laughing.

“I am so good at this game, it’s definitely Bowser for sure,” he continued. They played the game for a few more rounds, there was tons of trash talk and laughter shared. A full bottle of wine and a few vodka sodas later they were both drunk and still making their way through the cake sitting on the coffee table.

“I’m so glad you came, honestly would’ve been a shit day without you,” Corpse said as he took another fork full of cake and he slowly brought it to his lips.

“It’s been a great day, it’s always a great day with you, Lovely,” she turned her head towards him. He tilted his head to meet her gaze. A small chuckle leaves his lips as he stares into her eyes, admiring the color. “Why are you laughing?” she chuckled as she spoke quietly. He shook his head as he pressed his lips together.

“That’s a new nickname,” he whispered. She furrowed her eyebrows as she tilted her head back slightly, “Lovely,” he hummed before leaning slightly closer to her, “I like that one.”

“I’ll start using it more then,” she said while she turned her head away from him briefly, “Lovely.” He smiled widely as he rolled his eyes playfully. He lifted his hand and wiped his hair away from his eyes as he reached into his pocket for his phone. He opened his camera. “What are you doing?”

“Smile,” he said while he held the camera facing her. She furrowed her eyebrows and laughed nervously. She smiled towards Coprse. He took a few of the photos and held his phone up as he looked towards her through the phone. He admired her smile, the way her nose scrunched up slightly when she did. He slowly lowered his phone as he kept his gaze towards her.

“What,” she let out nervously, her lips still curled upwards. He shook  his head as he reluctantly shifted his gaze back to his phone. He went to Twitter and picked his favorite one. He captioned the photo, Great Birthday with my Lovely :).

He drunkenly posted without thinking about the repercussions that would’ve occurred.

[cjsinkythoughts]

Inner Conflict

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3586

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Some Angst, Some Fluff, Sam and Bucky being idiots, Mentions of PTSD, Anxiety, and Depression

A/N: Here’s Part Three to my FATWS Series, which I’m making a masterlist for that you can find Here. 

Uh…it’s a little long, and I apologize for that. It doesn’t even encompass the whole second episode, only the first half, so a Part 3.5 will be coming out later today probably (it’s my day off work so I have all day to relax and write!) I tried not doing a line for line rewrite of the episode, but there are quotes from the show in here. Mostly it’s Reader’s thoughts and feelings towards what’s happening while conversations are going on around. Reader’s backstory is a bit more unfurled. It’s more action packed and more scene-for-scene of the episode than the previous two. Less emotions shared and less hurt/comfort type of thing, but that’ll be back in the next part probably along with more scenes not in the show. The next part I’m planning won’t be as long, it’ll mainly just be the Couples Therapy scene and a bit more angst with her and Sam and her and Bucky.

Because there’s four more episodes and I don’t know what’s going to happen in them, I’m kinda hesitant on spilling out exactly what is going on with the Reader and what her role was on the original team, but we’ll get there. Also, I wasn’t expecting to be writing multiple pieces for one episode, but if the other episodes are as packed as this one, prepare yourself for more parts than anticipated. We’re already on Part 3 and I’ve got Part 3.5 coming. Just bare with me as I don’t know what’s going to happen in future episodes! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it! 

(Not beta’d so excuse any mistakes.)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

Walking out of the shower, ruffling a towel through your hair to dry it off, you froze at the sound of the TV. A sigh left your lips. It’s all he’d been doing the last few days - watching the news. Keeping up with the tour for the new Captain America.

You peeked out of the small bedroom to find Bucky sitting on the floor, brow creased as he watched John Walker talk to the Good Morning America hostess.

“You shouldn’t be watching that.” You spoke up, leaning on the doorway, still patting your hair dry. He glanced over to you, taking in the towel wrapped around you, before looking back at the TV. Seeing you like that wasn’t anything new. “Buck, I’m serious. Brooding over it won’t make anything better.”

“What do you want me to do?”

You let out a sigh, shifting your feet and biting your lip as you thought about how to respond. “I-I haven’t figured it out yet. But obsessing over the new guy-”

“Aren’t you mad?”

You frowned at his question, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I told you already that I am.”

He tilted his head, which he did when he was confused, his eyes narrowing. “Why don’t you show it? Why aren’t you screaming or cursing or crying or something? You, of all people-”

“Because it won’t help anything, Buck.” You shook your head, pushing off the wall. “I want to. But if I let myself go down that road…” Dropping your gaze to the floor, you take a breath, collecting your thoughts. “This is such a complicated situation, James. I’m being contacted left and right for a statement on the new Captain. People trying to see my reaction. Senators trying to get me to meet with him. I can’t let myself snap. I can’t.”

He scowled. “They’re still bothering you?”

A dry chuckle escaped your lips and you nodded. “Makes me miss the days when no one knew who I was; when I was the behind-the-scenes seventh Avenger. But I made that choice to come out, and I have to deal with the consequences now. Blowing up will only-”

“Even though I never met him…he feels like a brother.”

That one statement stopped you in your tracks. Bucky’s head whipped back to the TV, his jaw ticking, his nose scrunching up.

“Did he really just say that?”

Bucky merely nodded, his chest heaving as he tried getting his breathing under control. “Feel like snapping now?”

You purse your lips as you held in the tears stinging your eyes. After composing yourself, you moved over and grabbed the remote, letting out a tiny sniffle as you did so. You tentatively touched Bucky’s shoulder, silently asking him if he needed anything from you. His response was to open his arms, so you quickly got down besides him to hold him.

“He is my brother, doll.”

“I know, Buck.” You pressed a soft kiss to his head, which rested against your bare shoulder.

Your bare knees are pressed harshly against the wooden panels of the floor, and you’re twisted awkwardly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. As long as he was comfortable, you would take the uncomfortable position. As long as he was being held, you would take the soreness it would leave. As long as you could help him be some sort of okay, you would take not being okay in this position.

 You two sat like that for a few more moments before your phone buzzed. You gave a sigh, pulling back and holding his cheeks in either hand. He wasn’t crying, although he was on the verge of doing so. You’d seen him cry before, so you knew he didn’t mind. For you it was a different story.

Bucky had maybe seen you cry twice since the whole Blip thing went down. And one of them was over the phone, so he didn’t see it so much as he heard it. You didn’t let yourself cry in front of him. Or anyone, for that matter. It was a part of you. The only person you ever felt comfortable enough around to cry in front of…wasn’t there. And you couldn’t change that.

“We’ll figure it out.” You told him, nodding gently and letting a small, sad smile quirk the corners of your lips up. “Okay? We’ll figure it out.”

The clench in his jaw loosened as your fingers worked circles into the hinge, making him relax and nod back. You pressed a tender kiss to his forehead before standing up, moving across the room to where your phone was on the counter. You assumed it’d be another government official or news reporter, so you were slightly shocked to see ‘Sammy’ flashing up at you.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you read his message, a slight pout forming on your face. 

“Doll?” Toned arms wrapped around you, warm and cool, his chin setting on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Sam. He needs my help with something.”

“I’m coming with you.”

You turned in his arms, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Why?”

He shrugged, licking his lips. “You might need help.”

“Bucky, you can’t go if you’re just going to yell at him.”

“I won’t.”

You studied his features. He was lying, you knew that. Of course he was going to snap at Sam for giving up the shield. He was mad and they got on each others’ nerves every chance they could find, so of course he was going to.

But you still found yourself saying yes and telling him to go pack a bag. You were never able to say no to Steve and it seemed that got passed on. What a nuisance it was.

****************

And you were so right. It was the first thing he said once Sam came into view coming down the stairs.

“You shouldn’t have given up the shield, Sam.”

“James.” You squeezed the hand he was holding, voice pleading for him not to do this right now. He huffed, stepping back to let you greet Sam properly, giving the man a hug. “Hi, Sammy.”

“It’s been a while.” Sam commented, pulling back and holding you by the shoulders. “You look good. Not that you’ve ever looked otherwise.”

You gave him a small smile. “You do too.”

“Thanks for coming. I know it’s short notice, but-”

“It’s fine, Sam. Really.” You insist.

Sam nodded, before eyeing Bucky. “Did you have to bring him?”

“Samuel-”

“This is wrong.” Bucky cut in, staring Sam down, falling into step besides him as the man started heading outside.

“James-”

“Hey, hey. Look. I’m working, all right?”

You rolled your eyes as the two started arguing, stopping your stride to take a breather. You used to joke about babysitting them, but it didn’t feel like a joke anymore and you were getting tired of it. All the bickering for no reason. The contempt they held for one another. Steve made you promise that you would look out for them, and you were trying, but they weren’t making it easy.

When you joined them again, you raised an eyebrow at the direction the conversation turned. How the hell did they get from arguing about the shield to what a wizard is?

“Ahh! Haha! A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat!”

You gave Sam a look as he babbled about how he was right. “Sorcerer Mickey has a hat. Isn’t that, like, how he gets his powers and everything?”

Bucky grinned at you. “Thank you!”

“Excuse you!” Sam scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at you. “We were having a conversation!”

“Yeah. A stupid conversation I just ended. Now I’m gonna be in the plane. Feel free to join me when you’re done being idiots.”

They both spluttered, but you were already walking away, leaving no room for arguments. As you loaded onto the plane, you spotted the Lieutenant whom Sam mentioned who had been helping him out with missions. Torres, you thought, remembering his name from a previous phone call with your friend.

“You Lieutenant Torres?” You asked, walking up to him.

He blinked, before his eyes widened, a grin appearing on his face. He seemed young, which you were perfectly okay with considering you’ve been working alongside old men for the past decade. It was always nice to work with a fresh face, which you found after you started working with Wanda and Peter.

The thought of the two youngest members made you falter, not having heard from either of them since Christmas almost six months prior, but you quickly recovered yourself, shaking away the worries you had for them.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N! I’m a huge fan! I’ve read all your files!”

Chuckling a little, you held out your hand. “Most of those are heavily classified.”

He ducked his head with a little blush, rubbing the back of his neck after shaking your hand. “I, uh, I might’ve…used connections.”

“It’s okay.” You reassured him, throwing him a wink. “I won’t tell. Can you tell me what’s going on? Sam didn’t exactly explain the situation.”

He nodded, getting into ‘work mode’, something you’ve seen in most military men, informing you of their recent missions and the group known as the Flag-Smashers and giving you a file on them. He was in the middle of telling you about his solo mission in Germany when your two fellas came in, sending each other small glares, but remaining quiet.

Bucky caught your eye and sent an apologetic look your way, to which you just smiled at before turning back to Torres.

“Well I’m glad you’re okay.” You told him once he was done.

“Oh yeah. It wasn’t that bad.”

You laughed and nodded. “I’m sure. You seem like a tough kid.”

He smiled, before looking around and jabbing his thumb behind his shoulder. “I-I’ve gotta go, but-”

“We can talk later.” You promised with a grin.

“Really?!”

“Of course! I have a feeling we’ll be working together more, and I like getting to know who’s gonna have my back.”

He beamed and nodded, walking backwards. “That’d be awesome! Talk to you later then!”

You giggled as he turned around and jogged off, pumping his fist in the air. You turned to a grinning Sam and nodded towards where Torres left. “I like him. Seems like a nice kid.”

“He is. Very energetic. A little reckless, but he’s got a good heart.”

You hummed, the smile falling from your face as you flipped through the file Torres gave you. “So…Munich?”

“Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry again for taking you away from the search, but-”

“Search is off.” You informed him quickly, not looking up. “Until further notice.”

The plane went quiet, before Sam cleared his throat. “So…no sign of Wanda yet, then?”

You shut the file, looking up at the men whose features were laced with concern. “I’m gonna go talk to the pilot. Behave while I’m gone. No pushing each other off the plane.”

“Doll?”

You were stopped by the hand that grabbed your wrist as you passed Bucky. You shot him another smile, knowing it wasn’t convincing enough for him, but it being the best one you had. “I’m okay. I’ve just gotta ask him some questions.”

************

Opening your mouth to stop him, you groaned when Bucky jumped out of the plane before you could speak. First Sam jumps without sharing the plan, then Bucky jumps without having a plan. Or a parachute. Or wings. Or anything.

Torres looked at you, but all you could do was shrug. “I dunno what to tell you, kid.”

“You’re not gonna do that, are you?”

“No.” You reassured him, shaking your head. “I’m gonna wait ‘til we land like a normal person and take my bike. I just have to pray that they’ll wait to do anything stupid until I get there.”

They didn’t wait. You’re pretty sure they didn’t even think about waiting. By the time you got to them, they were fighting - and losing, might you add - to six really strong people on top of two semi trucks.

Because why wouldn’t they?

Oh, oh. And on top of that, the fake was there, throwing the shield. The shield that didn’t belong to him. The shield that meant so much more than he would ever know.

“Hi, doll! Sorry we started the party without you!” Bucky shouted from where he was hanging off the edge, that close to the street and getting his head torn off by the tire.

“I’m so tired of babysitting you two, you know that?!”

“Oh! Sorry we’re such an inconvenience for you! Blame him! He jumped the gun!” Sam shouted, coming to fly next to you as you rolled up your sleeves, standing on your bike, using one hand to steer.

“Can I get a little help already?!”

“Sam-!”

“On it!”

Knowing that no matter how much they pissed each other off, Sam would make sure Bucky was okay and vice versa, you focused on getting to the top, where Walker and a buddy of his were struggling a little bit.

You climbed up to the roof of the semi no one was on, wincing when you heard your bike skidding across the pavement. There goes half your salary.

You couldn’t dwell on it for very long, considering one of the guys appeared in front of you. You recognized the fighting - the strength - and faltered, a memory resurfacing at a very bad time.

~

“C’mon, honey. You can do better than that.” Steve grinned at you, holding out a hand to help you up.

“Excuse me for not having super strength, Rogers.” You huffed out, taking it and letting him pull you up.

“You don’t need to be stronger than me. You just need to be smarter.”

“That’ll be easy.” You teased, stretching your arms before getting into your stance again. “You’re a dumbass sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, who chose to be friends with this dumbass?”

“Everyone needs a dumbass for a friend.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “So I’m your dumbass?”

“If you want.”

The grin he shot you made your heart skip a beat. “If you’ll have me.”

~

You blinked, but Steve wasn’t in front of you anymore and you weren’t in the gym in DC. 

The guy caught the punch you distractedly threw and twisted your arm, making you cry out, kicking him in the back of the knee and flipping him over your shoulder.

You went to kick him again, but he caught your leg and threw you against the side of the other semi. You were able to grab onto where Bucky had ripped through the side, but you winced as the metal cut through your palm. Sam had just flown under the trucks, taking Buck with him, and you knew when a fight wasn’t worth it, so you quickly moved around the truck, letting Walker and his pal distract the Flag-Smashers, before letting yourself fall onto the side where the grass was.

You wanted to lay there, to catch your breath and curse yourself for getting distracted. You hadn’t had a flashback like that in a while. But you didn’t let yourself. You had to make sure the guys were okay.

Standing up made you cringe; you could feel the throbbing in your shoulder from where it was no doubt dislocated and your leg was aching, the muscle probably pulled when the guy threw you.

“Doll!” You turned, seeing Bucky and Sam sprinting towards you a few yards down the road. “Hey, hey.” Bucky immediately had his hands hovering over you, scanning your body. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, shoving his hands away. “I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

“I think I dislocated it.”

Sam frowned. “What the hell happened?”

You gave him a weird look, starting to limp across the field to where you noticed a side road earlier. “They were super soldiers, Sam. And we got our asses kicked.”

“Yeah, but you know how to fight a super soldier-”

“It’s been a while.”

“Bullshit.” Sam side stepped in front of you, making you stop. “What happened?”

“I-I just got distracted, okay?”

“Y/N. Look at me.” Bucky took your face between his palms, eyes worried. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. A tired sigh left your lips and you looked anywhere but his eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just hurting. My leg, I think I pulled it or something-”

“C’mere.” Bucky turned and crouched down, making you blink.

“What?”

“You shouldn’t be walking. We don’t wanna make it worse.”

“But it’s just a strain, it won’t-”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Just get on the man’s back, Y/N.”

You bit your lip before sighing and carefully climbing on his back. He shifted you gently, making sure to hold your leg with caution, leaning his head into yours when you hooked your chin on his shoulder. “You-you don’t have to talk about what happened. Just-just know that when you do…I’ll be here, okay?”

You nodded, moving to press your nose against the column of his throat. “Okay.”

But you could never tell them. How could you? How could you tell the world’s longest POW that you were having nightmares? How could you complain to an Air Force vet who served two tours in Afghanistan and watched his best friend get blown out of the air that you were having flashbacks?

You weren’t sure if it was PTSD or anxiety or depression. Maybe all three. It didn’t matter, though, because you didn’t want to admit it. You wouldn’t admit it. No one thought the Blip messed you up that badly. No one thought Steve leaving did that much damage. And you were okay with that. You were okay with them thinking you were healing - that you were fine - because they needed to see that it could be done. That they could be fine, too. Especially the men walking, Sam teasing Bucky per usual.

It wasn’t until a horn honked that you allowed yourself to be pulled out of your thoughts. A scoff left you when you realized who it was, switching the side you were laying on so your cheek pressed up against the cool metal of his left shoulder, facing away from the jeep.

You tried ignoring the guy as he talked about working together and shit, taking a shuddering breath, making Bucky squeeze your uninjured thigh. There was no way you were working with him. You couldn’t. It’d be like betraying Steve and you didn’t need that on top of all the other things you were dealing with.

You couldn’t deny the need for a ride though. The airport was 20 miles away and you were hurting pretty bad. You suspected that was the reason the guys relented, Bucky tenderly setting you down in the jeep between him and Sam, careful of your injuries.

You stared at your lap as Walker and Sam talked shop. You understood where they were coming from, you were always able to see both sides of the coin, but it didn’t mean you were going to willingly work with him.

“I got mad respect for all of y’all, but you were kind of getting your asses kicked till we showed up.”

You scoffed at that, finally raising your eyes to meet Walker’s friend’s. “Like you were doing any better?”

Bucky reached over to grab her hand that was resting on her lap. “You know, I’ve been trying to get in contact with you.” Walker faced you, eyes raking down your form. Bucky shifted in his spot, but you ran your thumb over his knuckles before he could do or say anything stupid.

“Yeah. I know. My phone hasn’t stopped blowing up for a week. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Walker frowned. “If you just answered-”

“I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what you’ve done. I’ve been a little busy doing my job to blow smoke up your ass on national television. Sorry if my saving people’s lives has been an inconvenience for you, but some wannabe playing dress up isn’t my top priority.”

Walker’s brows furrowed and he was about to say something, when Bucky cut in, asking his friend who he was. You were already that close to jumping out of the jeep, when the guy, Hoskins, told you three that he went by ‘Battlestar’.

If the situation wasn’t so aggravating, you would’ve laughed when Bucky immediately told the driver to stop, opening the door before the car even stopped. “C’mere, doll.” He murmured, lifting you up into his arms bridal style, before walking off, tuning out Walker as he shouted after you two.

You pouted a little when you saw Sam still talking to the guy. “What’re they talking about, Buck?”

“Some nonsense about him not replacing Steve. Just trying to be the best Captain America he can.”

You laid your head against Bucky’s chest. “The best Captain America is Steve. He can never be Steve.”

“I know, doll.”

“Steve told me once that all he was trying to do was be a good man…it’ll always amaze me that he didn’t see he was the best.”

You missed the distraught look Bucky shot towards you, the look in his eyes almost heartbroken while you talked fondly about his best friend. The tortured scrunch to his features seemed to melt away at your next words, though, and he held you tighter as you curled into his hold.

“Just like it amazes me that you don’t know how important you are to me too, Buckaroo.”

[mediocre-writerr]

who do you love [lexi howard]

lexi howard x reader

requested: Hiii! I just discovered your page while looking for Euphoria fics. I saw that you don’t have any Lexi Howard fics. Could I request a fic where Reader is partnered up with Cassie for a project or something and they meet Lexi and develops a crush on her, but Lexi is clueless and thinks reader has a thing for Cassie? Fluff please. Also your works are absolutely amazing!

a/n: italicized are rue's voiceover

*not my gif*

Lexi has always lived in the shadows of her sister. Every guy or girl she liked just never fell for her. They always fell for her sister. Cassie was the one in the spotlight and Lexi was just the background character.

You sat there with your earbuds in as your teacher went on and on about some project you guys had to do. But again, you weren't exactly listening.

Until he came over and ripped your earbuds out of your ear. You looked up at him with innocent eyes, "Ms. Y/L/N, you're partnered with Ms. Howard. Hopefully, she'll be able to fill you in since you weren't paying attention,"

You sent him a small smile before trudging your way over to Cassie. You heard a lot of things about her, but you didn't really care what everyone thought around here. Most of them were assholes anyway.

"So were you paying attention to anything he was saying?" you asked as you plopped down into the seat next to her.

"Not a word, but my friend Kat heard all of it. If you want you can come over tonight, we can start working on it, getting it over with," she offered and you nodded. 

“Sounds great,”

You see this was the start of a beautiful friendship for Y/N and Cassie. They became as thick as thieves. Everyone thought that Y/N and Cassie would eventually get together, but the entire time Cassie was just trying to get her newly found best friend to admit feelings for her sister. 

And those feelings started, cheesy to say, but at first sight.

You knocked on the Howard’s door, bouncing on the balls of your feet. You didn’t really know how to feel, Cassie was popular and well you? Not so much.

The door swung open and you swore your jaw dropped all the way to the floor. You were met with the younger Howard sister. She was beautiful. Her beautiful brown hair fit perfectly with her fair skin.

“You must be Y/N?” she says, snapping you out of your daze.

“Yeah, that’s me. Hi, Lexi, right?” you asked, stepping into the house as she held the door open.

“Yeah. Cassie went out with Maddy, but she texted me and said she’s on her way back. You can come in, you don’t have to wait outside like a dog,” she joked and you laughed together softly.

The two of you sat together on the couch. Your eyes gazed to the TV to see her watching Crazy Rich Asians. One of your favorite movies of all time. The screen was showing the montage of Rachel trying on all the different dresses for the wedding.

“This movie is a masterpiece,” you tell her.

She nods, “This is my first time watching it and I’m completely sold,” 

“Oh, you haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. The wedding scene is-” you put your fingers to your lips and kiss them, “Chef’s kiss!” 

“Hmm, I’ll have to take your word for it,” she said.

You continued watching as the wedding scene started. Lexi’s eyes were glued to the TV, but yours kept drifting towards Lexi. The way she watched intently as Kina Grannis started singing “Can’t Help Falling In Love”.

The scene ends and she looks at you, tears boarded at her eyes, “Why am I going to cry?” she laughed.

“Because it’s one of the most beautiful scenes in history,” you told her. 

The two of you just stared at each other. Her doe brown eyes were captivating and you couldn’t help your eyes from drifting down to her lips. There was a moment where you thought she did the same thing. 

The door bust open filled with laughter and Cassie and Maddy’s eyes landed on the two of you, “Hey Y/N, sorry I’m late. I see my sister was able to keep you company,”

“Oh yeah, Lexi was great. It was nice meeting you, I’ll see you around,” you told her. 

You see, my best friend Lexi developed a crush on Y/N right after that. But despite me and Jules telling her constantly that she felt the same way, Lexi still thought that you fell for her blonde sister and not her. 

“Cassie! I am not telling your sister that I like her. She does not feel the same way that I do. I am not going to risk my friendship that I’ve built with her and you,” you told her as the two of you laid on the bed in her bedroom.

She looked at you with her blue eyes like you were on drugs, “Are you kidding me right now? You sound like you just bought something from Fez. I’ve never seen my sister look at anyone the way she looks at you. You need to stop being a fucking coward and just tell her how you feel,”

“Okay, what if she does want to be my girlfriend? What if something bad happens? I lose the both of you and I can’t do that. I don’t want you to choose between me and your own sister,” you whispered.

Your heads were slightly tilted towards each other as you just stared at her, “I think you need to take advice from your favorite movie: you’re not playing to win, you’re playing to not lose. So play to win. Don’t think about the what if’s and even if things go south with my sister, I found a sister in you. You’re not gonna lose me either,” she said, “You’re one of my favorite people in the entire world, possibly my favorite, don’t tell Maddy that though. I love you so much Y/N,”

Little did the two of you know that Lexi was at the door way. She didn’t hear anything besides that you’re Cassie’s favorite person and that she loves you. 

“Awww someone loves me,” you nudge her shoulder, “But I’m for sure going to tell Maddy that I’m your favorite person. She’ll have a field day with that one,”

She pushed your face away from her, “You will not! I’ll just tell Lexi myself then,” 

You gasped, “You wouldn’t dare!” 

“Then you do it!” she exclaimed. 

Lexi avoided Y/N after that day. She also avoided Cassie. The two girls didn’t know why the brunette Howard was avoiding them. All they knew was that she avoided them every chance that she got.

It broke Y/N’s heart. She was finally ready to tell Lexi how she felt. And now, she wants nothing to do with her. No more movie nights. No more random ice cream days. But rather, Y/N going over to visit Cassie and being disappointed when their mom would answer the door and not Lexi.

You finally caught up to her as she was trying to sprint past you in the hallway. You grabbed her wrist and she looked back at you. The first time actually seeing those beautiful eyes of hers in weeks.

“What did I do? I understand if you don’t want to talk to me. I understand if you don’t want to be my friend, but please just tell me what I did. That’s the least I deserve,” you whispered, your voice breaking at the thought of losing one of your best friends. 

She shook her head, “Nothing, you didn’t do anything,” 

“I obviously did something, you’re not talking to me!” you exclaimed. 

Lexi broke free of your grasp, “You don’t need me Y/N. You have my sister. Cassie always wins. She’s always been in the spotlight. She always gets the guys and girls. Everyone I’ve ever liked, she went for them. And she always wins. I just thought for once that I mattered. That for once, the person I fell in love with chose me, but I guess I was wrong,” 

She stormed away and you were left with your mouth agape. Everything she said twirling in your brain. You immediately told Cassie all of it and your brain worked together to try and figure out a way to win her back. Until it all finally clicked.

You stood outside in the backyard of the Howard’s house. A slip n slide was in the path leading to you, switch on candles. You sat on the opposite side with a guitar in your hand. Luckily, you can play. 

Singing on the other hand, well let’s just hope it goes well.

“Cassie, I already said I don’t want to talk to you! You can’t bribe me with Bob Ross tutorials!” Lexi’s voice echoed as she closed the backyard door. 

She spotted you sitting there and she was immediately about to go inside when you yelled out to her, “Lexi please! Just let me explain, it’ll take maybe three or four minutes of your time,” 

Lexi walked down the slip n slide, but not before falling on her butt and sliding towards you. You let out a roar of a laugh as she finally reached down to you. She tried hard to fight off a laugh and a smile, but you could see it faintly. 

When you finally came down from your high she looked at you with raised eyebrows, “Well, I’m waiting,” 

You started playing the guitar. The melody you learned just hours before playing from the guitar. You took in a deep breath as you started singing the infamous song that got you to fall in love with her in the first place. 

“So, take my hand, take my whole life too. For, I can’t help falling in love with you. For, I can’t help falling in love with you,” you finish the song.

The two of you look at each other as you place your guitar down next to you, “You do matter to me, Lexi. More than you know. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you, but ever since the first night I met you I’ve always been in love with you,” 

“Cassie actually told me that I need to play to win. And if I had to slip on my ass a thousands times trying to set up this low budget recreation of the wedding scene in Crazy Rich Asians, I would. I did it because I need to win your heart, because Lexi, you already have mine,” 

A small smile breaks out onto her face as she closes the distance between the two of you. She kissed you ever so softly as you tasted the sweet taste of her lips. 

“And you have mine,”