#or what they like or people they cate more about

[holyhuppert]

I went out to buy perfume today with my sister and randomly reminded of how EVERYONE who works with Eve Best talks about how good she smells. And unable to stop the words coming out of my mouth I shared this with my sister, and she in the most cool way just said "yeah I can see that, she has that face of someone who really smells good".

And that's it.

Not only Eve Best indeed smells good, she looks like she does it and now more than ever is a vital matter to me to know WHAT she smells like –is it a specific perfume she uses? is it a peculiar italian lotion she found in the middle of nowhere? is it a soap that she herself produces at her farm? I NEED TO KNOW

[firebirdsdaughter]

Mmmmm…

… Disappointed that the Borderlands film is apparently not good.

I feel very strongly about stereotypes in media and I was so excited that Cate was playing the main girl in an action film.

[cressidagrey]

The Witching Hour - Chapter 6 - Azriel (The End)

Summary: 

5 Times members of the Inner Circle get absolutely terrified by Azriel's...whatever she is, and 1 (of many) times Azriel thinks that his witch was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Warnings: 

Mention of Amarantha, Mention of Murder, Mention of torture, Rhys Bashing, Definitely NSFW, Rough but consensual sex, (I literally titled this chapter Morticia and Gomez: Acotar Edition)

(super pretty dividers by @cafekitsune)

"I want you to keep away from her." 

Azriel held back a sigh.

He should have expected something like this probably... but it was still pissing him off.

Azriel kept his expression carefully neutral as he met Rhys' gaze. "Why?" he asked simply, his voice giving nothing away.

Rhys scowled, crossing his arms. "Because I say so," he said firmly. "I don't want you anywhere near her."

Azriel held back a snort. "Out of pure interest," he drawled. "Why exactly are you suddenly this interested in what female I pursue?"

Rhys clenched his jaw, his irritation mounting at Azriel's questioning. "I'm not interested in the specifics," he said gruffly. "I just don't want you anywhere near her, that's all'."

"You don't want me near Elain and you don't want me near Cate," Azriel said drily. “Anybody else?”

Rhys bristled at Azriel's words, his eyes narrowing. "This isn't about Elain," he said hotly. "This is about Cate. And I don't want you anywhere near Cate, understood?"

Azriel raised an eyebrow, his own irritation rising. "And why, pray tell, do you get to dictate who I spend my time with?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

Rhys bristled at Azriel's tone, his irritation growing.

"Because I'm the High Lord, and this is my court," he said, his voice taking on a cold, authoritative tone. "And I don't want you involved with her."

Azriel rolled his eyes, his patience wearing thin. "And what's your reason for that?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Afraid she'll give me cooties?"

Rhys visibly bristled, his irritation clear in his eyes.

"Damnit, Azriel, you know it's not about that," he snapped "She's not right for you. She's too powerful, too unpredictable. She'll only cause trouble and chaos."

Azriel let out a scoff, his own irritation rising. "And who are you to say who's right for me?" he shot back. "You don't know a thing about her, or about my own feelings."

Didn't know how sometimes Cate was the only one who understood him...who didn't judge him...who said nothing and just listened. 

"I know enough to say she's trouble," Rhys said firmly. "And that's all I need to know. She doesn't belong here, and she doesn't belong with you."

"Speak for yourself," Azriel answered calmly. "I know her. She knows me. I trust her."

He did know her. He knew her better than anybody else in his life. He trusted her with his life and he trusted her to act in the best interest of Prythian. 

Rhys's eyes widened, his anger replaced by surprise and disbelief. "You...you trust her?" he asked, his voice filled with incredulity. "After everything I've said, after everything I've warned you about, you still trust her? You know some of the things that she has done!"

Azriel didn't flinch.

"She isn't the only person with blood on her hands," he responded evenly.

She really wasn’t. He had done worse than her. At least Cate had always acted on behalf of Fate and the vision that came to her. She did what needed to be done to make the best vision come to life. 

He had just slaughtered people on the orders of Rhys’ father. 

Rhys bristled at Azriel's response, his face tightening with anger. "That's entirely different, and you know it," he snapped. "We may have blood on our hands, but we do what we do for the betterment of this court, of the Night Court. We have a responsibility to protect our people and our land. You cannot compare us to her."

"Can't we?" Azriel asked. As far as he cared…they were much more similar than Rhys would like. "She has her reasons, Rhys, if you believe it or not."

"She could have killed Amarantha and she didn't!" Rhys bit out.

Oh. 

Azriel should have realised that that was going to be the sticking point. 

He knew where Cate had spent these 50 years. Keeping an eye on Hybern. He had thought she was dead. Had thought that maybe Cate had been Amarantha’s first political murder…but Cate had always been smart enough to know when to go underground. When to hide herself away so well that it was impossible to find her, even for him.

Only after the last battle with Hybern had been fought…only then, her information trickle to him. She had been fighting her own, one-woman mission, keeping the human lands as safe as she could. 

And she had also told him what exactly would have happened if she had interfered more obviously. If she hadn’t hidden herself away in the shadows, made sure that nobody knew that she was a piece on the chessboard as well. 

“She had her reason,” Azriel said quietly. 

"Why didn't she?" Rhys shot back, his anger flaring. "She had the power to do it. She has the capability. But instead, she chose to stand by and watch us suffer. She chose to let us endure fifty years of torture and horrors."

Azriel's expression darkened. "There are things you don't know, Rhys," he said quietly. "Things that no one knows, things that she hasn't told anyone."

He knew what he asked her about…but there were some things where Cate just turned silent...just stared emptily in front of her with these green eyes an ocean of pain and suffering…and he left it at that. It was better that way. 

There were things that Cate didn't even tell him...that she never would utter to a single soul. 

Rhys clenched his jaw, his irritation and frustration mounting even more at Azriel's words. "And what exactly would those 'things' be that she hasn't told anyone?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

He could feel the adamantium ripped claws against the shield of his mind, could feel the deep gouges Rhys left and he held his own, clenching his teeth.

Rhys let out a growl of frustration, Azriel's mental shields holding firm against the onslaught of Rhys.

"Damnit, Azriel," he bit out. "I'm trying to protect you, can't you see that?"

"All I am seeing is that you keep trying to control me," Azriel bit out.

"Control you?" Rhys repeated incredulously. "You think that's what this is about? You think I'm just controlling you because I feel like it?"

Azriel shot him a dark glance. "What else do you call trying to dictate who I do and don't spend my time with, hm?"

First Elain, now Cate. Azriel was done. 

What he did with Cat had no political ramifications for Rhys whatsoever…unless one counted easier access to certain kinds of information. 

"I'm trying to look out for you, you stubborn, infuriating, idiot," Rhys gritted out. "I'm trying to keep you safe, to keep you from getting hurt. From getting burned."

Azriel let out a scoff, his irritation mounting. "And do you really think I'm so weak and helpless that I need you to 'keep' me safe?" he shot back. "| can take care of myself, Rhys. I don't need you hovering over me like a mother hen."

"You are the spymaster of this court! And you are colluding with her!"

"Colluding?" Azriel repeated, his tone flat. "We're not planning a coup if that's what you're implying. Actually, if you truly think that I would do something like that...then I think I have no place in this court anymore." 

Rhys froze at Azriel's words, his irritation replaced by surprise and a hint of guilt. "Don't say that," he said, his voice quieter now. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Do I?" Azriel asked him flatly. 

If Rhys truly thought that he and Cate were planning to topple his throat, then Azriel should not be trusted at all. 

Rhys let out a huff, running a hand through his hair.

"Damnit, Azriel," he muttered. "You know me better than that. You know that I would never doubt your loyalty."

"Az..." Cassian piped up.

Azriel's gaze turned to Cassian, who had been watching the exchange silently from the sidelines. "What?" he bit out. "Want to call Cate a whore? Again? Or would you like to go back to implying that she is using me? Again? Do you truly take me for stupid enough that I wouldn't have noticed?" 

Cassian tensed at Azriel's sharp words, his own irritation mounting at being called out so directly. "I'm not calling her a whore," he muttered defensively. "I just think you're being reckless, that's all."

"The one thing Cate did was to help Nesta," Azriel said, his voice even. "I know you didn't like it, but it clearly worked. Nesta made that choice, Cassian. And Nesta had every right to make this fucking choice too."

Cassian clenched his jaw, stung by Azriel's words. "I get that," he bit out. "And thanks to her, I now got a mate that's so fucking furious with me that she doesn't even talk to me anymore."

"I hate to be the one to tell you, but that Nesta is angry at you, has nothing to do with Cate," Azriel snapped. "She's angry because you think you have a right to decide what she does with her own body. We have some people who think they can decide what happens to a female's body in this court. Do you truly wish to put yourself on the same level as them?" Azriel said lowly.

Cassian froze, his expression darkening at the implications of Azriel's words. "I'm not like that," he said tightly, his own anger mounting. "You know damn well I'm not like that."

"Prove it," Azriel bit out. "Cate only cast a Dreamcatcher Spell. She has cast the same on me, numerous times. The only thing it does is to blunt the emotional impact of the nightmares. Nothing else. She did that as a favour to me, Cassian."

Cassian scowled. "So she's your personal magic spell caster now?" he asked, his voice cold. "She's just there to help you get a good night's sleep?"

Azriel's nostrils flared at Cassian's barbed words. "She's my friend, not just some 'spell caster'," he said, his voice tight with anger. "And maybe if you actually bothered to talk to her yourself instead of just listening to rumours, you would see that too."

Cassian shot him a dark glance, his expression closed off.

"I'm not interested in getting to know her," he said coldly.

Azriel let out a scoff, his own anger mounting even more. "Of course, you aren't," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's easier to judge someone without knowing them, isn't it?"

Rhys stepped in, his voice cutting through the tension in the air. "Alright, that's enough," he said firmly. "This arguing is getting us nowhere. We need to figure out a way forward, not keep sniping at each other like children."

Azriel clenched his jaw, his own irritation still simmering beneath the surface.

Cassian grumbled to himself but finally nodded. "Fine," he muttered. "What do you suggest, then?"

Rhys let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Well, for starters, Azriel, maybe you could stop spending so much time with her," he suggested.

Azriel couldn't help but bark out a laugh. "No," he said drily. "I really don't care if you like it or not, Rhys, but Cate's presence in my life is not something that we are going to argue about. Either you accept it or you don't. If you don't, you'll get to find yourself a new spymaster."

Rhys froze at Azriel's words, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Are you...are you actually threatening to quit over this?" he asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice.

"It's not a threat," Azriel said quietly. "I am telling you that my relationship with Cate is not up for debate. I am telling you that her presence in my life is non-negotiable. She's important to me, Rhysand."

Maybe the most important of them all. 

She understood him. Nobody else understood him. She wasn’t scared of him. Everybody was always scared of him. She didn’t once flinch away from the things he had done, because she had done the same or worse. It was so…easy to be with her. 

He didn’t need to pull on a mask and behave like a normal person, because she wasn’t normal either. She would never judge him for some of the horrific dark thoughts that ran around in his head. She had the same.

Rhys clenched his jaw, trying to rein in his anger. "You'd really throw away centuries of loyalty and friendship for her?" Rhys asked tightly.

"If you don't trust me anymore to do my job, then there is nothing to throw away," Azriel said quietly. "You already stopped treating me like your brother by Winter Solstice, Rhysand. I did what you asked. I kept away from Elain. I only tried to help Nesta, but you don't like my methods, so clearly I must be out to destroy my brother's mating bond. Gods, do you even hear yourself?! Cate has done nothing to you, or to Nesta or to Elain. She offered her help, even when she was treated utterly reprehensible by you,” he spat out. 

Rhys bristled at the accusation, his irritation mounting. "I never said I didn't trust you, Azriel," he gritted out. "I just don't trust her"

Azriel let out a scoff, his own annoyance sharpening.

"Why?" he asked, his voice sharp as a knife. "Why is it that you're so desperate to find fault in her that you're questioning my judgement and my own ability to be discerning?"

Rhys clenched his jaw, his irritation warring with a hint of guilt. "I just... just think you're not seeing her clearly," he said, his voice tight. "She's clouding your mind, making you see her in a more... favourable light."

Azriel rolled his eyes, his irritation mounting again. "I'm not some damn swooning schoolboy, Rhys," he said firmly. "I'm not some naive idiot that falls for every pretty face. And you should know me better than to assume that I would let her manipulate me in such a way."

Without a word, he lifted the shirt he wore, lifting the glamour that kept the bargain mark from sight.

Rhys's eyes widened at the sight of the mark on Azriel's shoulder. "You...you made a bargain with her?" he said, disbelief and concern colouring his voice. It was a circle with a star that…not any bigger than a gold coin. 

"The very first time I met her," Azriel bit out. "To tell each other the truth, regardless of anything else."

Centuries ago...the first time he came across his witch...he had been a spy working for Rhys' father. He had been ready to snatch the mantle of spymaster for himself...until Cate had been quicker.

His competition had turned into dust...and he met Hecate The Undying.

They had a bargain. Even still to this day. To tell each other the truth.

Hers wrapped over her shoulder blade...his around his ribs.

Rhys's brow furrowed in confusion and consternation.

"Why?" he asked, his voice tight. "Why would you make such a bargain, with a stranger no less?"

Azriel gritted his teeth, his irritation mounting. He had never enjoyed talking about this particular subject. "She saved my life," he said quietly. "And it was the only way to make sure that we could trust each other."

Cassian's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean, she saved your life?" he asked, his voice betraying his own shock.

Azriel clenched his jaw, his irritation still there, but now a hint of vulnerability as well. "There was a...an incident, long ago," he said quietly. "Before I became spymaster...there was...more than one option for the next holder of that title. Some decided to team up. Take me out of the running. And she...she saved me from certain death. She offered me the bargain as a way to...repay the debt."

Rhys gaped at Azriel's words, shock and surprise registering on his face. Cassian was similarly taken aback, clearly having not expected this revelation. "You never told us," Rhys finally managed to say

Azriel let out a scoff, a hint of bitterness entering his voice. "Would you have believed me, if I did?" he asked, his gaze fixed on Rhys's face.

Rhys had the decency to look guilty at that, his jaw clenching as he tried to find an answer. But before he could say anything, Cassian spoke up. "Azriel, you know we would have listened to you, right?" he asked, his voice tight with suppressed emotion.

Azriel let out a huff, his irritation and defensiveness faltering momentarily in the face of Cassian's genuine concern. "..." he started, but then trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter," he said quietly, his voice guarded.

"It does matter," Cassian urged, taking a step forward. "You're my brother, Azriel. We have fought together, bled together. We have shared everything. Why would you think we wouldn't believe you about something this important?"

"Because you don't believe me right now," Azriel spat out. 

Cassian reeled back, stung by Azriel's response. "That's not...that's not true," he protested, even as the guilt settled in the pit of his stomach.

Azriel let out a scoff. "Is it? You don't believe me when I say that she's trustworthy. You think she's manipulating me, that she's somehow got me under her spell. We've met 500 years ago. If she had me under her spell it would not be a new thing," he said flippantly. "She came to Velaris on my request. Because I knew that we could use all the help we could get with Koschei and with Elain."

Cassian's eyebrows shot up at Azriel's admission. "Wait, she's here because...you asked her to come?" he asked, surprise and a hint of disbelief colouring his voice.

Azriel let out a scoff, his irritation flaring again. "Yes, Cassian, she's here because I asked her to come," he bit out. "Can you believe that? Incredible that this selfish monster comes just because I say please, right?! That she is willing to help, even when she gets nothing out of it."

There was a hint of bitter sarcasm in his voice that sent a pang through Rhys' chest. "Azriel, that's not..." he started, but trailed off, unsure what to say.

"I don't want to hear it," Azriel said sharply. "Keep out of my private life. Both of you. You can trust me to act in the best interest of this court. But you will not get me to give up Cate. I'll be by her side until she decides she doesn't want me to be."

Rhys and Cassian both froze at Azriel's firm declaration, both taken aback by the fierce protectiveness in his voice.

There was a tense silence in which neither one of them dared to speak.

"General, High Lord," Azriel drawled before he turned on.his heel and walked out.

For a moment, neither one of them spoke. They just stood there, quietly watching as Azriel stormed off, the door clicking shut behind him.

Finally, Rhys let out a heavy sigh. "Well, that could have gone better."

Azriel though... Azriel went home.

Azriel stalked through the streets, his expression thunderous. He was furious with Rhys and Cassian for questioning his judgement, and for not trusting him. But he was also feeling a growing sense of agitation and anxiety over the whole situation.

As he finally approached his house, he paused momentarily, taking a deep breath to try and quell the mix of emotions swirling within him.

Not to a place. No place had ever been home for him. But to a person. A person that he knew he could trust with his life.

They had never put a label on what exactly their relationship was.

Had never bothered with it. They had always just been...them. They came together and then they went apart again, sometimes for weeks, sometimes decades...but every time they came back together it was like no time had passed at all.

But he knew what it was. Knew what it was to meet his other half...his perfect, match, his equal. And he didn't care what anybody else thought about it any longer. He was done trying to hide, done trying to behave in a way that was more socially acceptable. He wanted his witch.

He wanted Cate. 

He wanted her warm laughter, her sharp wit. He wanted her soft body to bury his face as he breathed her in. He wanted those big, green eyes of hers to look at him with affection, not suspicion.

He wanted her in a way he had never wanted anything or anyone before in his existence. And he would be damned if he let anyone come between them.

He finally arrived at Cate's townhouse, his heart thudding in his chest. He didn't hesitate for a moment, not even bothering to knock as he pushed down the handle to the door and stepped into the house.

Azriel gave the jaguar a nod in greeting, his expression softening slightly as he glanced down at the jaguar. "Hey, you," he said quietly. "Where's Cate?"

Belladonna was her familiar, bound to her through an ancient magical ritual. She served as a companion, as a focus for Cate’s magic, as protector…She was a part of Cate just like his shadows were for him.

He didn’t need an actual thought until his shadows went to swarm to her, always having liked the big cat that playfully swiped at them, claws carefully withdrawn, before she looked at Azriel and then in the direction of the bedroom.

Azriel let out a soft breath as he saw the direction of the jaguar's glance. He took that as a cue to head to the bedroom, his heart beating faster with every step he took.

Azriel let out a soft breath as he saw her spread out on the bed, asleep. He moved forward quietly, his gaze trailing over her face, over her unruly red hair, her freckled arms and slender legs. She was so beautiful, so vulnerable without her usual sharp edge.

He could see the signs of exhaustion on her face, the dark circles under her eyes, the slight frown on her forehead. She was tired, no doubt from the day's events. He felt a pang in his chest, an overwhelming urge to protect her, to take care of her in that moment. 

The High Lord went to see her this morning, his shadows whispered. Her magic forced him out of the house.

Azriel grunted, his eyes narrowing as the shadows informed him of Rhys' visit to Cate's house. That meddling bastard, he grumbled, a hint of irritation in his voice. He should've left her alone.

It must have gotten bad if Cate had forced Rhys out of her house.

He didn't hesitate as he undressed. Regardless of Cassian's worry for his manhood, Azriel had never worried about that once.

As he got into the bed behind her, he pulled her close to him, savouring the feeling of her body against his. Azriel tucked his head into the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her tightly against him like a lifeline.

For a moment, he just lay there, holding her close, taking comfort in the sound of her slow, steady breathing. But then he couldn't help it, his hand began to wander. It started at her waist, tracing lightly over the curves of her body.

He moved up, his fingers tracing over the delicate skin of her hip, her ribs, the valley between her breasts. He heard her breath hitch as he touched her, her body stirring in response to his touch. He felt her press back against him, her body seeking out the comfort of his touch. He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, his mouth moving lightly over the sensitive skin.

Cate let out a soft sigh, her body responding to him, arching slightly in his arms. He couldn't resist, his hand wandering lower, tracing the line of her hipbone, the softness of her stomach. He felt her shiver as he touched her, her fingers twitching in the sheets.

He didn't stop, his hand continuing its journey down, down to the apex of her thighs. He pressed his fingers gently against her flesh, feeling the heat…the wetness that already coated his fingers. Between one breath and the next, her eyes opened slowly, a soft gasp escaping her lips. She turned her head slightly, her gaze lazily meeting his. "Azriel," she breathed, her voice ragged with sleep and desire.

Azriel moved quickly, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss. He poured all his desperation, his need for her, into the kiss, his hand still tracing over the soft skin of her thighs.

If Cate was caught off guard by his forwardness, but she quickly recovered and pressed herself against him, responding to his kiss with a soft mewl.

Her tongue met his, dancing against it, and he could taste the familiar hint of apples and spice in her mouth. It sent a shiver down his spine, sparking a blaze of desire within him.

Her. Nothing, nobody had ever been able to compare.

Azriel ran one of his hands down her side, her curves a familiar and comforting sensation. He deepened the kiss, claiming more, pushing her harder into the wall, pressing his body against hers.

The desire, the fierce need to touch, taste, and feel all of her, was mounting rapidly, taking over his senses.

He broke the kiss momentarily, panting as he took her in.

Cate's hair was even more tousled, her lips red and wet. Her eyes had darkened to an almost black hue, the want in them so clear that it made his very blood sing.

He leaned back in, his lips trailing down her neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. He could feel her body responding to his touch, the way she pressed herself into him, arching into him in silent invitation.

Her scent, her taste, the feel of her...the noises she made...all of it drove him crazy, made him want more, more...more of her. Azriel pressed himself against her, his body desperate for connection, for the feel of her skin against his.

He couldn't get enough of her, couldn't stop himself from touching her, from tasting her, from making her moan and writhe under his touch.

Azriel moved down, his lips and tongue trailing over her collarbone, her throat, and the top of her chest.

Azriel was drowning in her, his senses overrun by everything that was this glorious, maddening female. He could feel his hands shaking with the need to touch her, to hold her and never let go.

He needed her, needed to make her his, to claim her completely. His hands roamed over her body, caressing, teasing, marking her skin with his touch, marking her as his and only his.

A bite here, a kiss there, adding to the patchwork of bruises and hickeys he had already left. Cate was his.

His fingers traced over her skin, trailing over the marks he had left behind. It was satisfying in a primal way, to see the evidence of his possession of her body. His. She was his.

"Say it," he whispered hoarsely, his voice a rough, needy growl. "Say you're mine."

His hands continued their assault, his fingers trailing over her hips, her stomach, up to her thighs.

He wanted, no, needed to hear the words from her lips, needed her to confirm what he already knew in his heart to be true. And judging by the way she arched into his touch, the way her eyes darkened further at his demand, she wanted it just as badly as he did.

"Cate," he said again, his voice even rougher than before. "Say it. Say you're mine."

He punctuated his demand with a bite to her shoulder, sharp and possessive.

His hands roamed over her body again, more insistent, more desperate. He knew he was being greedy, that he was pushing the boundaries, but he didn't care. He needed her to say those words. He needed her to claim him as much as he was claiming her.

Her breath hitched, her body arching again. He could feel the heat emanating from her, the desire burning in her veins just as strongly as it burned in his.

"I'm...I'm yours," Cate gasped out, her voice ragged with need.

He rewarded her with his cock thrusting inside her, a cry coming from her, just as he bit down again. 

She hadn’t truly been ready for him, but neither of them had ever shied away from a bite of pain. Besides, he trusted her to use her safeword if she needed it. And she would. They may played rough, but they had done this often enough to know each other’s boundaries very well. 

And like this, her body quivering around him, her cunt struggling to stretch around him, her body tightly pressed against him…for once she was utterly at his mercy. 

His body thrummed with a primal satisfaction, as he began to move, his body rocking against hers. His grip on her hips was bruising, the need to lose himself in her overwhelming. His lips found her neck again, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin, drawing out soft gasps from her. The sound of their breathing and the soft wet slapping of skin mingled with the occasional thump against the wall, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. He lost himself in the feeling of her, the way she moved and writhed against him. The desire, the passion, the desperate need to be closer, more was almost a living thing, driving him to move faster, harder, claiming her and being claimed.

He was consumed by her, by the sensations coursing through his body, by the sheer need to be as close to her as physically possible. 

Azriel could feel himself approaching the edge

Her body was shuddering, clenching around him, the soft gasps and mewls becoming whimpers as she too felt the tension building. He could feel her nails biting into his skin, the sting of it feeding him, pushing him further on.

His movements became faster, more frantic. He was close, so close, but he wanted her to go over the edge with him. He nipped at her neck, the sound of her gasps and moans spurring him on. His grip tightened on her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, desperate to hold on.

 "Mine," he repeated, more to himself than to her. "Mine," he said again, the word a low growl.

He repeated the word again and again, like a mantra, a desperate claim. As he felt her body shuddering against his, the sounds of her climax mingling with his own, he said it again, for good measure, his mouth against the shell of her ear. "Mine," he said again, his voice ragged and raw. "You're mine."

And as Azriel let his body surrender to the climax, the sensation overwhelming and all-consuming, he repeated it once more, his eyes closed, his forehead resting against hers.

"You're mine."

As they both came down, he didn't let go of her. He kept her close, his arms wrapped around her like a lifeline.

"I love you," he murmured in her ear, his voice hoarse but firm. He had never said the words aloud, but now it felt like a dam had burst, a truth that had been there all along finally spilling out into the open.

"I love you," he repeated, his eyes still shut, his face nuzzling against her neck. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, the rapid thump slowly returning to a more normal pace.

He wasn't even sure why he'd kept the words from her for so long. Fear, maybe, of scaring her off. Or maybe because he was just so used to keeping his emotions tightly leashed.

Maybe because he knew that she thought that every other person would just keep leaving her.

He knew her well enough to be aware of her trust issues. He knew that she had walls built up, as high as the damn sky. He knew that she was terrified of putting her heart on the line and getting it broken.

It was buried deep, hidden behind her prickly exterior, her sharp tongue, and her fiercely independent spirit. But once you broke through all of that, once you earned her trust and got through those walls of hers, her love was fierce, unwavering, and loyal to a fault. 

He took her face in his hands, tilting it up so he could look at her. "Say it," he demanded again, the need to hear her say the words overwhelming. "Please," he added softly, the desperate plea in his voice clear.

He searched her face, his eyes locking with hers, pleading and desperate. He needed to hear those three little words from her more than he needed air to breathe. He cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head up so he could look directly into her eyes.

Her eyes met his, the green depths holding a mixture of love, amusement, and tenderness. She let out a soft huff, gently cupping his face in her hands. "Of course, I love you, you sap," she said, her voice warm and affectionate.

The words washed over him like a balm, soothing and healing, chasing away the doubts that had lingered in his mind. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes still locked with hers. "You love me?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper as if he still couldn't quite believe it.

He felt a rush of emotion, a combination of joy, relief, and disbelief. He pulled her closer, burying his head in the crook of her neck once again. "Again," he whispered. "Say it again. 

Her laughter vibrated through her body, the sound like music to his ears. "I love you," she repeated, the words firm and steady. "I love you, you insufferable, overprotective bat."

He chuckled, the sound muffled against her skin. Her words felt like a balm to his soul, soothing away the last remnants of uncertainty.

"Insufferably overprotective, huh?" he asked, his lips curving into a soft smile against her neck.

She huffed again, the sound amused and affectionate. "You're a 500-year-old warrior with severe control issues," she pointed out. "What else am I supposed to call you?"

He hummed, the sound an imitation of agreement. "Severe control issues," he repeated, lifting his head to look at her again. He brushed a loose strand of hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Is that really how you see me?"

"Yes," she replied without missing a beat. "You are insufferable. You are possessive and territorial, and sometimes I just want to strangle you." A note of laughter crept into her voice.

"Strangle me, huh?" he retorted, lifting his head slightly.

She laughed again, her hands coming up to thread through his hair. "You're lucky I love you," she teased.

"I think I'm the luckiest male alive," he replied, leaning in to press a kiss to her neck.

"Some people will vehemently disagree with you there," Cate said, her voice quiet.

He chuckled his lips still against her skin. "Let them," he murmured. "I'm not here to please everyone, only you."

She hummed, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp. "You're too sappy for your own good," she scolded softly. "I never want to come between you and your family," Cate said quietly.

He lifted his head, his expression turning serious. "You never will," he said firmly, his voice carrying an undercurrent of steel. "You're mine, and I won't let anyone or anything get between us."

She rolled her eyes, but he cupped her cheek. "I am serious. They are not going to like this," she warned him. "They didn't even like it when we were just...having fun."

He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. "That's their problem," he said, his voice firm. "I don't care what they think. I care about you. And I will fight tooth and nail for us if I have to."

"You're incredible," she murmured, her eyes soft. "And I swear to the Mother, if you get yourself killed out of some misplaced sense of protectiveness, I will resurrect you and kill you myself."

He couldn't help but laugh at that.

He chuckled. "That's fair," he conceded, his thumb still tracing gentle circles on her cheek. "But I don't care what anybody thinks. Let them have their opinions. I don't care what they think. All that matters is that I have you."

She let out a shaky laugh, relief and affection warring in her eyes. "You're insane," she told him, though her voice was filled with affection. "You know that, right?"

"Only when it comes to you," he assured her, his hand moving to cup her chin. "You drive me mad, in the best possible way."

[ravens-two]

PAC: What Does Your Future Spouse Look Like?

This reading includes:

your FS's general physical traits

your FS's vibes & celebrities with similar vibes

The extended reading includes:

your FS's fashion style

your first impression of your FS 

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone.

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Houdini - Dua Lipa

Five of Cups, Ten of Pentacles, Two of Pentacles

Pile 1, the first thing I notice in your person is their eyes. It's not necessarily about the color - although it could be that they're a particularly pretty color - but more that they are very expressive. It also seems that for most of you, this person has really big eyes. Perhaps round or almond shaped too. Think something like Al Pacino, Cate Blanchett, Liv Tyler, Kurt Cobain or Adrien Brody for example. They can convey a lot of emotion with just their eyes. I also see that some of them have crow's feet when they smile too, which is really endearing honestly.

Another thing that I pick up from your person is that they seem to have a vaguely sad vibe to them. Do you know that meme "my poor little meow meow"? Their vibe is a bit similar in a way. They just look like they're sad and you have the urge to take care of them. Again, think a bit about someone like Kurt Cobain or Adrien Brody.

When it comes to their body they're tall or, at least, they give the impression of being tall and broad. Especially for men, they have broad shoulders even if they aren't muscled or chubby. For the women I also think that they tend to have broad shoulders and a narrower waist, but their most prominent feature seems to be their chest. They may have big boobs or they tend to use clothes that emphasize their boobs. I think that even for the men, their chest is quite prominent.

When it comes to vibes it's mostly what I've already said your person has this "please love me" vibe. Despite this, they're capable of commanding attention and they tend to look quite elegant. It may be that they have a lot of pisces placements or a pisces rising. In general, I think that they're attractive, but not like conventionally attractive or Hollywood attractive if that makes sense.

I also think that your person shows themself differently to different people. With you they may feel more comfortable to be a "poor little meow meow" while with others they're more closed off and may even appear a bit cold. I just heard that they have a poker face, so with other people they may completely close off and be hard to read.

(extended reading here)

Pile 2

Kiss Me More - Doja Cat ft. SZA

Six of Wands, Page of Wands, Eight of Swords

Hi, pile 2, your FS is the type of person that gets other people's attention. They are very conventionally attractive (I feel like especially when it comes to their face), but they don't really see themselves life this. In fact, I think that they're quite insecure about their appearance. This almost feels like body dysmorphia honestly (and for some of you it could be related to them being trans, while for others it could be related to an eating disorder). The reality is that they can't see themselves the way other people see them.

They have really thick and luscious hair - it reminds me a bit of Carlos Sainz or Ben Barnes for the men - and most likely it's either wavy or straight. For most of you they have rather long hair, the men tend to have up to shoulder length hair, while for the women it can come down to their waist. When it comes to color, most likely it's dark, but for some of you it could be bleached.

Most of them seem to have tanned or dark skin, this isn't really about skin color, if they have black skin for example, it's really dark. For the people with lighter-skin they have a tendency to blush a lot or get flushed (especially after drinking). They also have really pretty teeth, probably very straight or they just look endearing, and a pretty mouth too. Despite having a pretty mouth not all of them have thick lips, it's more about the shape of their mouth. I feel like they tend to smile a lot. It kind of reminds me of Julia Roberts a bit who is known for her smile.

Some celebrities that have similar vibes to them are Carlos Sainz, Julia Roberts, Anok Yai, Adut Akech, Dominik Szoboszlai and Michael B. Jordan. 

When it comes to their vibes they seem to be youthful and always in their own world. It's almost like they aren't really paying attention to what's going on around them. They also seem to be a bit introverted or closed-off in public, despite all the eyes that they attract. If surrounded by friends they may be a bit more open and might be cracking up jokes with them. No matter what they seem to be really nice and will always give a small smile to other people, like the waiter at the restaurant for example.

(extended reading here)

Pile 3

The Shadow of Your Smile - Nancy Sinatra

Four of Pentacles, King of Swords rx, Ace of Pentacles

Pile 3, your person doesn't seem to be very tall. They're either medium height or actually small. It may also be that their vertical line is short even if they are in fact on the taller side they seem shorter than they really are. But, the most noticeable thing about them is that they seem to always have a serious expression on their face - some of them even have a resting bitch face. I think that they have very expressive eyebrows, they may even move them without meaning to. You'll be able to tell what they think by their eyebrows. Like, they may have look super serious almost as if they're upset but by their eyebrows you can actually tell that they're just relaxed. Speaking of their eyebrows they also seem to be very full or bushy. I don't think that there's a monobrow here, but it could also be the case.

When it comes to their face your FS has really strong facial features, especially their jaw and nose. The jaw reminds me a bit of Angelina Jolie for the women and for the men it seems to be a bit of a mix between Timothée Chalamet and Henry Cavill. For some it's more square while for others it's sharper. The noses here tend to be either aquiline or roman, but either way they're also quite prominent. Think a bit Gisele Bundchen, Jenny Slate or Alba Flores for example, or Hrithik Roshan and Dev Patel.

I don't know how to explain it but they also have a very earthy vibe, like tanned skin, freckles, calloused hands, it's like they just came back from working in the garden, if that makes sense. They also have brown or black hair, and the men tend to have beards (nothing too big though). They also have super clear and healthy looking skin.

Besides the eyebrows I also think that they have really noticeable hands. Their hands may be big or just very pretty in general, they may be veiny too. Their nails are healthy and well kept, and they probably have long and thick fingers. The way they move their hands may also be very attractive, like their gestures or just by being very dextrous with their hands. When it comes to their body they tend to be thicker or chubbier, I'm seeing like amazing and really thick thighs for both men and women. I also feel like your FS exercises a lot or they move a lot because of their work and so they tend to be chubby with a lot of muscle underneath.

In general, I think that their vibe is just very chill. They have a "don't fuck with me" vibe, but they're just doing their own thing and don't really want anyone to bother them. They also seem to be very hard-workers and earthy as I said, like down-to-earth too. These aren't people with delusions of grandeur.

(extended reading here)

Pile 4

Crazy - Aerosmith

Lovers rx, Empress rx, Knight of Cups

Pile 4, this is my androgynous and gender non-conforming pile. If you're familiar with the Kibbe body types or essences, these people would be the Ethereal or Angelic essence. Do you know the Lord of the Rings elves? Yeah, basically that's the vibe. Their features are delicate and they can look a bit otherworldly. Think of Tilda Swinton, Willow Smith, Halle Bailey or Lisa Bonnet. For the men you have again Lee Pace and Orlando Bloom as elves, but also Eddie Redmayne, Cillian Murphy, Jared Leto and Ethan Torchio. For me, Ethan Torchio from Maneskin is the best example for men here. He embodies the facial features and hair that makes him look quite androgynous, and also a bold and avant-garde style.

In general, your person tends to look a bit flirty or mischievous. Again, they have this elf or fairy vibe to them. They tend to look playful and approachable. This isn't the type of person you'd be afraid of talking to, they just seem super nice and open. 

No matter the skin color your person also tends to be pale, this is more their complexion really. Some of them may look a bit like vampires think Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt in Interview with a Vampire. They also have clear skin and the men tend not to have beards. When it comes to hair it tends to be long, especially for the men. For the women, I actually think that they may tend to have shorter hair or even a shaved head.

Their faces are beautiful, but not really conventionally attractive. They have something otherworldly about them that just pulls you to them. They may also have asymmetrical faces, especially when it comes to the eyes or jaw. Also, speaking of eyes they have really intense eyes. The type that seems that they can look right through you. Besides pile 1, this is the pile that seems like they may have light eyes.

When it comes to their body shape they are leaner instead of muscly or thick. They may have muscle definition, but they're just lean and maybe a bit lanky. They seem like they have a high vertical line or they're tall. In general though, they're just long. They have long legs, long arms, even long fingers.

(extended reading here)

[saltnsugarbear]

and you say once we're sober, we should just forget (18+)

summary: one time turns into two, two into three, three into four, and so on.. but it means nothing.

title from: "drinking games" by Sophie Cates

word count: 14.3k of filth my loves <3

content warnings: smut MDNI!! alcohol consumption, mentions of recreational smoking, afab genitalia, reader referred to with different pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart), petting/making out, maybe dubcon?? reader has a panic attack, vaginal fingering, angst, p in v sex, unprotected sex (please use condoms), m receiving handjob, cumplay/eating?

side note: edited/beta'd by my beloved olive! who also gave me some ideas for this, give her many smooches! also don't ask me when this takes place, i don't know, i just know they're in college maybe probably

Lip Gallagher has been your best friend since middle school.

He was easily one of the smartest kids in your year, so he was the obvious choice to ask for help on your homework. What you didn't expect was for him to offer to do all of your homework in exchange for cash.

Once you made it clear to him, you wanted to actually be able to do your homework and refused his offer (to his dismay and disbelief). In his finite wisdom he briefly thought you were going to offer a different form of repayment. When it became clear you weren't going to do that either, Lip was kind of at a loss. You both eventually came to the agreement that you would just meet at the library and work there, you being allowed to ask for help on something you didn't understand and him to work on other peoples homework in peace.

This dynamic went on for the two years you were in middle school and evolved once you reached high school. The Gallagher clan welcomed you with open arms when you started coming around more frequently and the dynamic was quickly established to include you in their family. They were sympathetic to your absent family and made sure to make it known you were welcome in their home no matter what. Your acceptance into the family only strengthened your bond with Lip through the years.

Even through shitty girlfriends (on his part) and tragic, almost-relationships (on your part), you had been attached at the hip for it all.

So it felt like a given when he finally decided what college to go to and you followed. It was the natural course of your relationship. One made a choice, and the other followed, no questions asked. That meant you had front row seats to his relationships with Amanda and Helene.

It stopped being your place to comment on Lips sexual relationships when you told him he should stop seeing Karen and when he found out you personally hadn't had a single sexual experience with anyone.

His reaction to your counseling caused a brief rift between the two of you. Lip had been frustrated with the conversation and stopped talking to you. You stopped talking to him for longer because of his decision that you couldn't give him advice, like a friend, simply because you hadn't slept with anyone the way he had.

Eventually, Lip came all but begging on your doorstep.

You never went more than 4 days in a fight. One of you always returned to the other with an apology in tow.

So when it had been a week and a half with no change, Lip started to get antsy. Fiona and Ian had been questioning him about it, and it was grating on his already frayed nerves.

Lip was desperate when it reached two weeks of not hanging out and his siblings asking about you. So, he took the hit to his pride and knocked on your door the night it reached two weeks. Your mom always worked the night rotations which gave you the house to yourself.

When the knock came that night you hoped it was a mistake and someone was knocking on the wrong door, or that they would go away.

They didn't.

Lip was nothing if he wasn't stubborn. So he persists on knocking on your door two more times, each time more aggressive than the last.

Once the third round of knocks stopped, you got up and peeked through the peephole. When you see Lip standing on the doorstep you're almost inclined to not open the door. But the tug at your heart when you see his hands stuffed in his coat pockets and collar pulled up to his ears has you unlocking the door before you can think about it.

"Fuckin' finally..." He mutters when he sees you in the doorway. His nose and cheeks are rosy, making his eyes look brighter. Lip slips inside both you can say anything and you're closing the door behind him out of habit.

"What are you doing here?" You cross your arms as Lip starts to peel off his gloves.

"Needed t'see you.. We need to talk.." He's shrugging off his jacket and tucking his gloves in with it.

You raise your eyebrows at him. He huffs a little and retreats further into the house, placing his jacket on the back of the couch. You have no choice but to follow him, if you want to hear this apology. Seeing Lip begin to fidget makes you nervous.

"I shouldn't- um- I shouldn't of made a- I was a dick." The way you scoff makes Lip glance at you. "It doesn't matter if you've never sleep with someone, I mean- I don't want you to- I don't not want you to just-"

His words make you raise your eyebrows again, he's starting to fumble his way through this apology.

"Whatever. I was a dick, I shouldn't of made such a big deal about whether or not you've fucked anybody. 'S not my business and you were just lookin out f'me. So.... I'm sorry.." He mumbles the last two words just barely under his breath.

Your brow is furrowed as you try and parcel through his apology. You don't get very long before he mutters, "Fuck it.."

Lip gives you very little time to react when he pulls you into a sloppy kiss. Your stomach twists as he brings his thumb to pull gently at your bottom lip. You let him take control of the kiss very easily.

He kisses you needily, eliminating any possible space between you both. You gasp softly into his mouth, grabbing onto Lip's shirt to keep you grounded. Lip's hands make their way from your face down to your hips, gently guiding you around to the other side of the couch.

Lip breaks the kiss to sit down and pulls you to straddle his lap. You bring your hands to rest on his shoulders to steady yourself. The feeling of something hard nudging against your core makes you inhale sharply.

The sharp ache of arousal isn't unfamiliar to you, however you've always had the chance to deal with it by yourself. It was also a feeling you had come to know whenever you would hang out with Lip since the summer.

Lip slides his hands up from where they were resting above your knees to guide your hips to roll over his bulge. The feeling pulls a surprised moan from your mouth that causes him to give you a smug look.

Your face feels flush as you bite down on your lip to keep yourself quiet. He brings his hand up to cradle your face softly, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone.

"This gonna be okay?" Lip whispers softly.

You nod a bit too quickly, rolling your hips softly to get some form of friction.

"Words, honey," Lip taps your cheek softly with his thumb.

"Yes," You nod again. "Yes, please, Lip."

"So polite," Lip whispers, placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

Lip takes his hand away from your face to take your hand from where it rests on his shoulder to the front of his jeans. He does the work of unbuttoning and unzipping for you, before he guides your hand to his waistband. He's gentle in the way he coaxes your fingers past the elastic and to the base of him.

You can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, his hand is firm in the way it manipulates your hand around his shaft.

It's a tight fit in Lip's boxers. With both of your hands on his cock there's not much room to move. Your fingertips barely touch each other when they're wrapped around it that it leaves you a little dumbfounded.

"Can't uh- Can't move my hand..." You whisper, searching his face for some form of guidance.

Lip huffs before he removes his hand from yours. With his hand out of his boxers you have a little bit more wiggle room.

"Gonna have to listen to me for this one..." Lip's voice sounds strained, a flush working it's way up his neck. You nod, adjusting your hand slightly. Lip groans at the feeling and it makes you pause.

The way your eyes widen as you watch him intently has Lip fighting to urge to thrust his hips into your hand.

"Are you- That didn't hurt, did it?" You ask him, watching his face for any signs of discomfort.

"Uh-uh..." Lip breathes heavily, shaking his head. "Th-The opposite actually.."

You give an experimental squeeze where your fingers rest against the base of him, watching the way his mouth gapes open and his head falls back against the couch. Watching the way he reacts makes your chest swell with a sense of pride.

To test the waters even more, you move your hand slowly along the rest of him, reaching as far as the fabric of his boxers will let you before going back down to the base.

"Holy shit-" Lip chokes out. "Are y- are y'sure you've never down this before? Oh fuck-"

His hands have moved to gripping the couch cushions as he fights to keep his hips from bucking up into your hand. You nod, taking in the vision of Lip underneath you.

"Just uh- just keep doin, that... And uh.. Move your hand uh up and down it..." Lip mutters, a flush climbing up his neck from under his shirt.

You do as he says, moving your hand down along his cock. The palm of your hand collects the pre-cum that's leaking from the head, smearing it along his shaft as you move your hand back up.

Taking the grunt that Lip lets out as a good sign, you start to quicken your pace. You watch Lip fight back his own moans, softly rutting his hips into your hand.

"Want y'to- to take your thumb and-" Lip inhales sharply. "Take y'thumb and go over the top- fuck- over the head there's a- a slit and-" He cuts himself off with a groan as you follow his instructions.

You collect the pre-cum from the head of his cock and drag it up along him. You watch as his eyes roll into the back of his skull, his neck bared out to you as his head lays back against the cushion.

You're struck with the urge to kiss his neck, to bite softly at the vein along it. You're moving without thinking, licking a stripe along the vein. You can feel the rumble of a groan in his throat.

Encouraged, you bite softly at a spot under his jaw before placing a soft kiss to the spot.

You give an experimental squeeze near the head of Lip's cock, causing him to buck up into your hand. The movement jostles you slightly, making you squeak.

"S-sorry..." Lip pants out. He looks at you through half lidded eyes, his blown pupils surrounded by a thin blue ring. The view makes you adjust your hips slightly.

The way your hand moves feels almost like second nature, picking a pace that has Lip panting and groaning. You try and commit the sounds he's making to memory, wanting to remember them the next time you're by yourself.

It doesn't take you very long to find a combination of movements that has Lip writhing under you. Swiping your thumb over his slit and squeezing the head of his cock softly makes him groan loudly.

It doesn't take too long for Lip to start losing what little restraint he had on himself. He starts thrusting his hips up to meet the movements of your hand, both of you finding a rhythm to move in time.

"Shit- Gonna fuckin'- Can't-" The moan that Lip lets out tears through his chest. His hips give a hard jerk up and you feel the first few strings of his release into your hand. You still your movements, letting him use your hand to work himself through his release.

When you pull your hand from his boxers, you have the overwhelming urge to lick his release off of your fingers. The curiosity of what he tastes like takes over any other thoughts you could have, you can't help yourself.

Lip's chest is heaving as he watches you lick up the expanse of your fingers, collecting his cum off your fingers.

"Holy fuck-" Lip chokes out. He's quick to grab your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth and quickly replacing it with his own mouth.

The taste of nicotine and salt is intoxicating. Lip's tongue invades your mouth, and he groans at the taste of your mouth and his release.

"Gonna be the death of me..." Lip pulls away to kiss the edge of your mouth, letting you catch your breath.

His kisses are a poor attempt to distract from the movements of his hand slipping up your thigh, toying with the edge of your sleep shorts. His thumb slips past the hem, nudging softly up against the wet patch in your underwear.

"Look atcha... Fuckin' soaking from givin' me a handy.." Lip mutters against your skin. He can feel the way your skin warms at the comment and it makes him smirk.

Lip bites softly at your jaw as he applies more pressure with his thumb, the friction of the fabric making you whine.

When he removes his hand briefly you instantly miss the warmth from it. However he's quick to slip his hand past your waistband and into your underwear. The tips of his fingers skirt around your pulsing bundle of nerves, dipping lower slightly to tease you.

He gives your clit the briefest ghost of attention, lightly rubbing circles over it.

"Stop teasin'" You whine, pulling away to pout at him. "'S not nice, Lip.."

Your voice sounds pathetic to your own ears but you're too worked up to care right now. Your words give him whatever encouragement he needs as he dips his hand lower.

Lip swipes his fingers through your folds, thoroughly coating him in your arousal. The feeling of his finger prodding at your entrance makes you breathe in sharply. Lip maintains an intense eye contact with you as he slowly starts pushing his finger past your entrance.

The intrusion makes your jaw drop, just one of his fingers thicker than your own. His lips are soft against your jaw, letting you become accustom to the slight stretch. It's not very long until your softly grinding you're hips into his hand.

Lip takes the silent instruction, starting a steady pace of pumping his finger in and out of you. The first withdrawal and thrust is slow, taking care to make sure you're comfortable with the motions. The small tight circles Lip starts to rub against your clit make you gasp, turning your head to place a soft bite against his cheekbone.

The feeling of more of your slick coats Lip's finger as he continues his slow pace. You can feel the tip of his ring finger softly outlining where your two bodies connect. The gentle prodding makes you moan softly next to his ear. Lip groans softly against your neck in response, reveling in the way your walls clench around his finger. The gentle prodding against your hole makes you squirm into the heel of his hand, biting hard on your lip as he applies more pressure to your entrance.

The feeling of both of his fingers slipping into you makes your mind go blank. You can't help the soft moans escaping your mouth, most of them tapering off into high pitched whines. Once he's knuckles deep you're able to find your voice again.

"Please, Lip. Please, please, please," You're babbling at this point. The feeling of both his fingers makes you dizzy. You don't think that you've ever felt so full.

"Look at ya... Already got y'fucked out..." Lip mutters as he kisses softly at your neck.

His pace starts slow again, allowing your body to adjust to the feeling. The stretch feels impossible, your walls clenching around his fingers when he's knuckles deep inside of you.

Lip grinds the heel of his hand against your clit, applying a pressure that has you rutting into his hand. He resumes a similar pace to the one he had started. Both of your bodies work in tune, matching each other's pace.

You're overwhelmed by it all. The feeling of Lip's fingers thrusting in and out of you, his thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit. You're familiar with the knot forming in your stomach, rocking your hips in time with the movements of his hand as you drop your head to his shoulder.

Softly, you trail kisses along Lip's neck. When Lip curls his fingers up against your walls you can't fight the way you bite down on Lip's neck. Above you Lip groans loudly which is enough to have you bucking into his hand as you feel the knot in your stomach unravel.

Lip gently coaxes you through your orgasm, rubbing soft circles against your bundle of nerves. The feeling of your slick slipping out of you as Lip pumps his fingers in and out of you is lewd. You can feel it leaking into your already soaked underwear until his fingers still.

You can't help but whine softly as he slips his fingers out of you. You can feel and hear the movements as Lip brings his hand up to his mouth. The distant ache of arousal reignites in your stomach at the idea of Lip licking your slick off his own fingers.

The both of you sit quietly, catching your breath and collecting your thoughts. Lip's hands move to rest at your hips, rubbing softly at the skin peeking out over your waistband.

"Gotta getcha upstairs," Lip softly pats your ass, making you whine from where you rest against his shoulder.

"Don't wanna.. Mom won't be back till late, anyways..." You bury your face further into Lip's shirt, hoping to convince him to stay on the couch a little longer.

"I know, but gotta get y'taken care of unless you want t'get some sort of infection..." Lip nudges his nose against your hair.

You groan dramatically, slipping off of his lap onto the cushion next to him. "Fine..."

You lead the way upstairs, following Lip's guidance and letting him take you back to your room. He holds you softly, keeping you warm with his own body heat under the covers.

That is the first time Lip tells you it doesn't mean anything.

Lip has not left your side since the two of you walked into this party. He's been attached to your hip the moment the both of you walked through the front door, most of the time keeping a hand on you or within easy reach for him.

Which wouldn't usually be a problem. But usually, he wasn't glowering at every guy who looked in your direction.

"Let's get outta here...." Lip whispers to you, studying the side of your face. He feels impossibly close, facing you with his shoulder against the wall, all you can focus on is the heat his body radiates next to you.

"We just got here?" You shoot him a look before going back to scanning the crowd. People are being stupid and grinding on each other. Everyone is drinking or smoking or doing a mix of both.

"So? Not like we'd be missin' anything.." Lip looks annoyed as he turns to the crowd of people.

Lip had been cranky since you walked in the door. What he was pissed about, you were unsure.

College house parties were commonplace for both of you. One of you would hear about one, and then you'd tag team it.

Lately, you had been receiving more attention from the other party goers. It started with some people complimenting your hair or your outfit, and then eventually, one night, you accidently ran into some guy who barely missed spilling his drink on you. When he looked at your face, he froze with his mouth agape.

"Oh shit... You have really pretty eyes.." His voice is hushed, and you almost struggle to hear him over the music.

You don't have time to process what he's said before you feel Lip's body behind you. "What's goin' on?"

Both you and the stranger are broken out of the moment when you look over your shoulder at Lip.

"Nothin' just ran into him on accident, and he was complimenting my eyes.." You say to him quietly. Lip's brow furrows as he looks at you like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard.

"...Okay..? Let's go, need a smoke.." Lip tugs at the belt loops on the back of your jeans, attempting to not so subtly pull you away from the other guy.

"Lip, you just had one..." You glance at the other guy quickly before looking back at Lip.

"Yeah, well, all these stupid fuckin' kids are makin' me need another so... Come on.." He tugs at the belt loops again, harder this time.

"It's okay, man, didn't realize you came with a boyfriend.. Sorry for runnin' into ya.." The stranger tries to play mediator, backing away from the both of you.

The insinuation that you and Lip are together makes the both of you pull a face.

"He's not my boyfriend-"

"We're not dating-"

The both of you start at the same time and then stop to look at the other. The both of you are having one of those wordless conversations that weirds people out. The kind where you're both minutely shaking your heads or flicking your hands in a certain direction.

"Oookay... I'm just gonna go.... Have a good time y'guys.." The stranger holds his hands up and walks back into the crowd.

As soon as he's gone, you smack a hand against Lip's chest.

"What the hell? Why'd you have to say we're not dating like that?" You hate the way you sound so offended.

"Cause we're not? It's not that big of a deal, sweetheart." Lip huffs and looks around the crowd to avoid your eyes.

"You made it sound like a big deal." You cross your arms over your chest, pouting at him.

"You're the one who said I'm not your boyfriend. I should be the one gettin' offended." Lip looks at you now and bumps his shoulder against you.

You scoff at him, turning to go find yourselves a drink.

Lip stops you, his fingers still intertwined with your belt loops. "Still need that smoke, sweetheart, come on.."

You roll your eyes and concede with a sigh. "Okay, let's go, y'big baby.."

Lip gives you a cocky grin as he slips his arm around you to hoop his fingers in the loops on your side. He keeps you close the rest of that night, never more than an arms length away.

The parties after that have been something of a similar story. Lip never lets you more than a room out of his reach. It would be so obnoxious if you didn't love having him trail you around.

But after a few too many parties being cut short because Lip doesn't want to hang around anymore, you're starting to get a little cranky yourself.

"Lip, if you want to leave, then go. I don't want to leave at fuckin'-" You look down at your watch, noting how early it is. "Ten pm. That's too early. We've been leaving these earlier and earlier, and I'm missing out on free drinks."

"I can get you free drinks, sweetheart. Come on, I got some weed at home we can go smoke.." Lip teases.

"Lip-" You're starting to get annoyed with him.

He cuts you off, sliding himself to stand between your legs, forcing them apart to make room for him. Lip's not one to mind personal space, but having his hips so close to yours is making your brain short circuit.

"Come on, the beer is trashy, and nothin' fun is happenin'.." Lip mumbles, his eyes searching your face. You can feel yourself giving into him. Your resolve always gives out to him.

You groan and push his hip away to stand up straighter. "Okay, Gallagher. Let's go get that weed you promised.."

Lip grins at you as he grabs your hand. "Knew you'd make the right choice.."

You shake your head as he leads you out of the house. Lip guides you out the front door, off the patio and to the alley between the houses. You're both barely shaded by the shadows of the house, Lip turns to you with a smirk.

"Don't actually have any weed, gave it all to Kev before we left... Was just lookin' for a reason to getcha by yourself.." Lip gives you a grin, putting his hands on your hips to guide you back against the house sliding.

"Lip..." You mutter, glancing down towards the street. Anyone could see you both back here.

"Oh, don't get all shy on me now, baby..." Lip teases you.

"Not getting shy... Just don't think it's a good idea for you to fuck me in an alley where anyone can stumble down here drunk.." You whisper, searching his gaze. Surely he cannot be serious about this.

"We'll be quick.. Need to get my hands on ya..." Lip starts to trail kisses along your jaw, moving down to bite softly at your neck. You whine at the attention, tilting your head to give him more access to kiss the skin.

In order to keep from making too much noise and drawing attention to the both of you, you have to stifle yourself by biting on your lip. The feeling is a sharp contrast to the way Lip slides his thigh between your legs and is guiding your hips against him.

You're mind is so fuzzy you don't notice when Lip moves his hand under your waistband, before giving a sharp tug at your underwear. The action makes you squeal at the feeling of the fabric tugging up against your clit.

The sensations have you clenching around nothing, arching your chest up against Lips. He wastes little time moving his other hand from your hip and sliding it up to grope at your chest.

"Dressed so pretty tonight, sweetheart.." He mutters against your skin, placing a soft bite against your collarbone.

The way Lip is tugging your underwear up tightly against your clit as he grinds you against his thigh is dizzying. You have to press your face against his chest in a poor attempt to keep quiet.

"Fuck- Lip-" Your voice sounds constrained.

"Shh, baby, can't have anyone comin' down here, can we?" Lip's breath against your ear is warm and makes your face flush.

You're really letting him have you ride his thigh in an alley. The thought is a little embarrassing but makes you feel warm at the thought of being caught.

You feel the familiar beginnings of a knot forming low in your stomach. Lip slips his hand past your waistband, dipping his finger past your clit to coat his finger in your slick.

The feeling of his fingers rubbing circles around the bundle of nerves makes you whine and buck up against his hand.

"Lip- Fuck- Not gonna- Jesus Christ.." Your voice is strained as Lip works you to your climax. The feeling of your release is like a wave crashing over you, the knot in your stomach unraveling.

Lip kisses you harshly in an attempt to stifle your moans as he gently rocks you against his thigh, guiding you through your release. Your head rests back against the wall, your chest rising and falling as you try and catch your breath. Lip straightens your shirt and fixes your hair. Once you're presentable, he rubs his hands up and down your arms.

Once you've collected yourself enough, you push off the wall, leaning some of your weight against Lip. He's places a soft kiss at your temple, put his hand on your lower back.

"Come on.." Lip gives you a soft pat to your ass. "We have a party to get back to."

The vodka in your system is making you bold. Your screwdriver is more alcohol than orange juice and it's making you feel warm inside despite it being your first drink of the night.

Lip is across the room, flirting with some northside girl in a tacky pushup bra and a low-cut top.

You're pouting into your cup, near the door between the kitchen and den. He hasn't paid attention to you since you both walked through the door, leaving your side almost immediately.

You're lonely, slightly tipsy, and maybe a little horny. It had been a few weeks since you had last hooked up with Lip, making you miss the feeling of his fingers inside of you and his mouth on your skin.

You can tell that the girl across from him is thinking about the same thing with the fuck me eyes she's giving Lip. It makes your mouth twist in disgust from where you watch. Something makes you push off the wall you were leaning on and your legs begin to carry you towards him.

The girl sees you first as you approach, her eyes flicking to you behind Lip's shoulder before they go back to his face. You barely fight the urge to throw your drink at her.

You reach out to tug on the back of Lip's shirt, bumping your shoulder against his as you stand beside him. He glances at you briefly before he turns his attention back to the girl.

"Lip..." Your voice is whiny the same way a child's would be. "Let's go... 'm bored and want t'go home..."

"Can't you walk yourself home?" Lip tries to brush you off, his annoyance slipping into his tone. "'S not even 11 yet.."

The way his gaze flicks to the girl behind you makes your stomach twist and tears threaten to well up in your eyes.

"You're bein' mean, Lip.." You pout, holding your cup close to your chest. You look down, trying to prevent yourself from crying over something so small.

The way Lip breathes out through his nose tells you he's fighting back an exasperated groan. The action makes you pout at him, forgetting about the audience to your conversation.

"We always go when you wanna go, Lip.. You're not bein' fair..." Your voice is quiet as you try and convince him to leave with you. It's not going to take much more, you can tell by the look in his eyes.

"Please, Lip," You whisper, looking down at your feet. "Wanna go home now..."

You can tell when he makes up his mind. He sighs and then nods, before he takes your cup out of your hand and sets it on the small table a few feet from him.

"Sorry," He mutters to the girl before he grabs your wrist and starts to lead you out of the house.

On your way out, you spot a closet big enough to fit the both of you. Lip grunts in surprise when you grab him by his bicep and drag him towards it.

It's mostly empty, save for a few jackets hanging along the edges. You close the door behind you and push Lip up against it. He looks surprised that you're taking control.

You waste very little time connecting your lips with his. Lip lets you set the pace, which is a heavy one. You slip your hands under the hem of his shirt, hooking your fingers against his waistband to pull his hips flush against your own.

Lip places his hands on your hips, rubbing a thumb over the skin peeking out from under your cropped shirt.

"Please..." You say against his lips. You take Lip's hand and guide it to the button of your jeans. You're embarrassed to admit how badly you want his fingers.

"What was that baby? Don't think I caught that..." Lip teases you as he pulls back from you. The whine you let out only eggs him on. "Can't give you what you want if you don't tell me.."

"Lip.." You whine, guiding his fingers past the waistband of your underwear.

"Gotta tell me what y'want, y'know that... Gotta be a big kid and use your words..." Lip brings his hand up to hold your chin when you start to pout at him.

Your face is flushed as he studies you.

"Want you t'fuck me with your fingers..." You mutter, tugging at his waistband.

"Don't think I heard that one, honey." Lip taps your cheekbone with his middle and ring fingers.

You sigh through your nose before opening your mouth. The moment you do, Lip slips his fingers into your mouth and presses down against your tongue. The intrusion makes you whine as you feel arousal pool in your underwear.

"Getcha to quit whining, finally.." Lip whispers before he starts kissing along your jaw. "Should keep y'like this, two fingers in y'mouth and two in your cunt?"

The filth coming out of his mouth is making you dizzy. You're pliant enough that Lip switches your position, putting your back against the closet door.

He slips his two fingers out of your mouth before quickly replacing them. Lip wastes little time shoving his hand past your waistband, running his already wet fingers along your slit.

"Jesus Christ, baby," Lip mutters. "Already fuckin' soaked, didn't even need my fingers in y'mouth."

The feeling of the tips of his fingers pushing into you makes you inhale deeply. It's filthy the way he's slowly filling you with his fingers, two already in your mouth. Lip groans as you run your tongue in between his fingers.

The moan you release when he's sheathed to his knuckles is muffled but loud enough you're slightly embarrassed. You can feel a flush climbing up your skin as you rut your hips against Lips' hand.

The slow pace he starts is agonizing. Lip makes sure you're writhing in your place before he even thinks about speeding up his fingers. His hand is positioned in such a way that the heel of his hand is rubbing against your clit perfectly.

He's stopped kissing your jaw, seemingly content watching your face as he fucks you. Taking in the way your body responds to him.

It doesn't take long for you to feel the familiar sensation of a knot forming low in your belly. You know when Lip feels your walls clench around his fingers by the way he picks up his pace. That mixed with the way he crooks his finger along your inner wall has you rocking in time with his ministrations.

Lip removes his fingers from your mouth, making you gasp. You're panting like a dog in heat. He lets you catch your breath for a moment before he's kissing you roughly. It's messy enough Lip breaks away from your mouth to place open mouth kisses along your neck.

He times it perfectly. Placing a bite against your pulse and pressing his fingers on the soft spot along your walls. The knot snaps and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans.

Lip continues to place soft bites and kisses along your neck as he helps you through your orgasm, slowly pumping his fingers in and out to prolong the feeling.

Your legs are shaky as you lean your head forward against Lip's chest, taking in ragged breaths that make your own chest heave. When Lip removes his fingers from you and slips them out of your underwear you can't help but whine at the loss of warmth.

You can feel the way the muscles in his chest move as he turns slightly, finding something for him to wipe his hands on to clean them up.

"Wanna go home now?" Lip whispers in your ear, your forehead still pressed against his chest. You nod, pressing your face into his shirt.

Lip huffs a laugh, wrapping his arm over your shoulder, "Let's get you home, diva.."

"Shut up," You mutter. "You're just as bad.."

Lip scoffs before he places a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

You're not wrong, but neither one of you wants to face that truth. The truth that you have a claim on the other.

The sound of something hitting your window is what wakes you. At first, you think that you had made it up. However, when you hear it again, this time wide awake, you know you didn't make it up.

Your clock reads 1:45 am, and you know there is only one person who would be throwing rocks at your window this late. So, with very little choice, you get out of bed and cross to your window, opening your curtains and pulling up your blinds.

True to your guess, Lip is standing outside of your apartment building. When you lift open your window, you're met with warm air coming into the room. Lip is standing in the grass dressed in ratty jeans and a tank top, smoking a cigarette like it wasn't almost 2am, and he wasn't risking waking up the tenants around you.

"Gonna let me up?" He calls up, not caring to be quiet.

"Climb up, fuckin' Rapunzel." Your voice is quieter but he hears you well enough.

Lip scoffs and starts his scaling of the wall trellis. The landlord should get that removed, but you're thankful they haven't. Once he's closer is when you back up from the window and make sure nothing is in his way for him to trample.

"You would be Rapunzel, sweetheart.." Is the first thing he says when he gets inside. He stubs out his cigarette on the windowsill and toes off his shoes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever.. You smell like vomit.." You're bluffing. He smells like smoke and the fancy sandalwood cologne he was gifted by one of his rich exes. The mix of smells makes your stomach flip. It's so distinctly Lip Gallagher.

You can see the glimmer of mischief in his eye before he moves. The look doesn't register for you immediately, so you're too slow to dodge him when he launches at you.

Lip throws all of his body weight towards you, so when he collides with you, you're sent backward towards your bed. He lets himself go limp against you, causing you to fall back onto your mattress, Lip sprawled over the top of you.

You feel breathless with Lip laying on top of you. The smell of him is near overwhelming.

"Get off, you complete bum.." You try and get your hands under him to push him off. Lip hums and nuzzles his face into your neck.

"Mm-mm... Don't think I will, actually p'comfortable right here.." Lip punctuates the sentence with a kiss to your cheek.

You groan in faux annoyance and shift your hips under him in an attempt to try and flip you guys over.

"Mmm- Don't do that.." Lip mutters into your skin.

"Do what?" You furrow your brow, adjusting your hips once more.

Lip groans quietly and slowly starts placing kisses to your neck.

"Oh.." The feeling of his lips brings your attention to the precarious situation you're both in. Lip continues his motions, the kisses slowly becoming more harsh against your skin.

"We should- oh god-" Lip bites right under your ear, his hands are everywhere. "Lip.. We r-really shouldn't.."

Lip hums in response as he starts placing kisses down your neck. He's really going for gold to ensure you can't think. Lip situates his thigh between your legs. His hands are all but guiding your hips to grind against him.

You move your hands from his biceps to his jaw and guide his face back to yours. Lip mistakes your intentions of this and starts placing sweet kisses on your lips. You can taste the cheap beer on his breath, and it makes your stomach knot.

"Lip..." You manage to slip past his fleeting kisses. You grab his face again and pull him away to look at him. Lip's eyes are hooded; he looks nearly cross-eyed when he looks back at you.

"We shouldn't." You say it much more firmly without his mouth on you. That doesn't stop his hands, though, as he keeps guiding you to softly grind over his thigh, only using enough pressure to keep you chasing more.

"Why not, baby?" Lip moves his face and kisses the palm of your hand. He knows deep down that if you meant any of this, you'd push him away that you would have been harsher in your words.

"Because you're drunk.." You try and reason with him. You're grasping at straws to try and keep this from being another dash of salt in the wound.

"'M not drunk.... just a little tipsy.." He places another kiss to your palm, and another to the inside of your wrist.

"That's enough to know that we shouldn't." It feels like you have to choke the words out around the emotions in your throat.

"Please, baby.. Need you so bad.." Lip ruts his hips against your hip. You can feel his erection through his jeans, and it makes you squirm a little.

"Lip.." You sigh out. You can feel your resolve slipping, and you're pretty sure Lip can tell.

"Please, baby, please... Won't ask for anything else after this.." Lip shakes his head a little and shifts his thigh to rub up against your core. You let out a moan at the friction, and Lip seizes the moment to kiss you.

It's sloppy, the way Lip slips his tongue into your mouth. You don't try to fight for dominance, letting him explore your mouth at his leisure. Lip brings one of his hands up to grope at your chest, causing you to arch into him.

"Lip..." You breathe into his mouth, causing him to groan above you. You feel your heart begin to ache, knowing what will come tomorrow morning once he's sobered up.

You've been in this position before. Sometimes, you've both had something to drink, sometimes you're both completely sober. It always comes to the same conclusion. Lip tells you it was a mistake, that it can't happen again. He tells you it was a matter of convenience, that you happened to be there when he needed an outlet.

Thankfully, you've never let him get you naked. That was your one saving grace and your biggest regret.

There was one time, maybe the third or fourth time, that Lip was bare beside you. He convinced you to spend the night at his house, in his bed, after a late night out. When you had both gone to bed, there seemed to be no intention of anything happening. You had fallen asleep tucked into Lip's side like you did most of the time.

The next morning, however, you woke up to Lip climbing into bed behind you. You could smell the shampoo and soap on his skin. When he started placing kisses along your shoulder, you could feel his wet curls brushing your skin. You could also feel his arousal against your back.

His kisses trailed up your neck, to your ear where he nipped at your skin in hopes of drawing out a reaction. The gasp that left your lips was involuntary and you could feel his smirk against your skin.

"You awake, baby?" One of his hands slips over your hip to toy with the front of your waistband. "Was thinkin' about you earlier.."

Lip ended up dedicating that morning to getting you off with only his fingers. In the back of your mind you knew that if you turned around to look at him, you'd see all of him. But he kept you too distracted to put more than a fleeting thought into it. However, you also knew he was getting himself off. You could feel the movements against the mattress as he fucked into his hand behind your back.

It was an unspoken rule you never saw each other bare in these moments. It would make it too intimate, too real.

So tonight wouldn't be an exception, you knew, when Lip slides his hand from your chest downwards to undo the string of your pants.

"Need to know you want this too, baby...." Lip whispers into your mouth, sliding his thumb along the skin above your waistband. "Need words..."

He always asks. Lip always asks, always needs to hear a yes before he goes any further, and it makes your chest ache even more.

When you simply nod, Lip huffs before he pulls back from you. He brings the hand that had been rocking your hips, up to your face and tugs your bottom lip down with his thumb.

"You know the rules, honey... Gotta hear words.." His eyes feel more piercing than they usually are.

Except you didn't know the rules. You thought you did but he always ended up changing them. He was like a child, bending and changing the rules to his whims.

But you're nodding, anyway.

"Uh-huh.. Yes.. Yes, please.." Your voice sounds so whiny, and if Lip wasn't slipping his hands down your pants the moment he heard a yes, you'd have cringed at yourself.

He wastes no time pushing past your underwear, slipping his fingers down and coating them in your arousal. The sound that comes out of Lip's mouth is a rough mix between a moan and a laugh.

"Playing coy and look 'attcha... Soaked through your underwear, honey.." Your hips buck into his hand when he nudges your clit with his thumb. He watches with a smirk as your face flushes as he calls you out.

"It’s not th-" You're cut off in a silent moan when Lip slips his middle finger inside of you. The look on his face is smug, and you want to wipe it off.

Trying to maintain some of the same footing as him, you slip one hand between your bodies and weave the other into his curls. With the hand between the two of you, you press firmly against the bulge in his jeans. The way he bucks into your hand is unrestrained, and it makes you grin up at him.

You've both always been competitive, so it quickly devolves into 'who can get the other to come quicker.' You make quick work of the button of Lip's jeans and slip your hand into his boxers.

The way he groans when you wrap your hand around the base of him makes your chest swell with a sort of pride. Your movements are constrained by his boxers but Lip is more than happy to fuck himself into your hand.

"God, sweetheart, soo fuckin' wet already... Didn't even do nothin'..." Lip says as he goes in to kiss you. He groans against your mouth when he starts to work in a second finger, "Need you to relax, like a fuckin' vice.."

Lip circles a thumb over your clit, coaxing your body to let him slip his fingers further into you. Once he's up to the knuckle, your hips buck forward until you're all but riding his fingers.

Lip's grinding himself into your hand, pumping his fingers in and out of you in time with his own thrusts. The rhythm of his fingers has you tugging on his hair gently.

"Think- Christ- Think y'can take another- Fuckin' hell..." Lip's voice sounds strained as your walls clench around his fingers.

Lip has only ever given you three fingers once. The feeling of two already makes you feel so full. The idea of a third sounds impossible.

You start shaking your head. You truly don't think you can take a third finger.

"Don't- Oh my god- Don't think so-" Your voice is whining as he curls his fingers up against your walls. Lip tsk's at your response, kissing the edge of your mouth.

"Think you can baby- Fuckin' hell-" He swears as you tighten your grip around him. Your hand is lazy as you start jerking him off again. The movements are constrained in his boxers as you shift your wrist to run your thumb over his slit.

Lip groans as he pushes his nose against your cheek.

"Fuck- How- How are we gonna get you ready to take my cock if you can't take another finger- Christ.." You squeeze him closer to his head and he can't fight the way he bucks into your hand. His words make you feel dizzy as you whine at the feeling of his thumb against your clit.

The feeling of him pulling out to the tips of his fingers, only to add a third, makes you gasp. Lip takes the opportunity to kiss you, exploring your mouth.

He feels like he's everywhere. Your whole being is taken up by him.

Lip moans into your mouth at the feeling of your walls clenching around his fingers. His pace is slow when he begins, ensuring your body has adapted to him inside of you.

He's grinding his hips against your thigh, fucking into your hand and matching his pace to the way his fingers are thrusting into you. The kiss turns messy as you whine into his mouth. When you pull away from him to catch your breath, Lip moves down to kiss and nip at your jaw.

"Fuck- Lip-" You can feel the knot in your stomach starting to tighten as he brushes against the spongy spot along your walls. Lip knows the way your body responds well enough by now that he starts rubbing tight circles against your clit.

"Come on, baby.. Come on.." Lip mutters against your skin.

The feeling on his fingers curling against your walls and his thumb against your clit makes you dizzy. The feeling of him biting under your ear combined with the way he's fucking you is enough for the knot in your stomach to break.

You use the hand that's been tugging on his hair to bring him into a kiss, trying to stifle the sound of your moans while he works you through your orgasm. The feeling of his hips rutting against you is only slightly quicker than the way he's working you with his fingers.

The tug you give at his hair is rougher than usual, but it's enough that he groans into your mouth and his hips stutter against you. Lip's breathing is heavy as he gives a few more weak thrusts against your thigh. You remove your hand softly, making sure to keep the mess away from your sheets and Lip's clothes.

The feeling of Lip slipping his fingers out of you makes you whine, mourning the loss of being full. He kisses your temple softly as a way of apologizing. You watch him with tired eyes as he uses his own mouth to clean off his fingers.

The sight is enough to reignite the fire in your belly.

Once he's done, he lays down beside you, collecting himself again. Catching his breath and making sure he's breathing normally again.

After Lip has caught his breath, he gets off the bed and rifles through your dresser before he leaves the room.

You take the time to get up and wipe off your hand with a tissue from your desk. You quickly change out of your bottoms, putting on a new pair of underwear and a pair of sleep pants.

Once you're cleaned up, you turn off the lamp on your nightstand and climb into bed. You're hoping that the quicker you're under the covers, the later you'll feel the anxious shame in your stomach. You've adopted the idea that it'll be easier to face it in the dark.

It never is.

The knot in your stomach feels tighter when Lip climbs into bed with you. He's lost his shirt and jeans somewhere between your room and the bathroom. The weight of his arm wrapping around your midriff makes you want to squirm out of your skin.

"G'night.." Lip whispers into your hair as he settles behind you, keeping your back to his chest.

"Night.." You choke out.

As Lip drifts off behind you, you prepare yourself for tomorrow, when Lip reminds you it was just a mistake.

It means nothing.

You try and enter the Gallagher house as quietly as you can. Which is not very quiet with Lip right behind you and a few drinks in both of your systems.

Your foot catches on a stray shoe near the back door that sends you tumbling into the bathroom door. Lip snickers behind you as he kicks the shoe away.

"Shhh..." You hush him, turning around and placing a finger to your lips. Your childish antic makes Lip smirk as he closes the door behind him.

Lip helps you stand up straighter, guiding you towards the stairs with a hand on your hip.

He looks particularly pretty in the orange glow bleeding in through the kitchen window. Before you take the first step up, you place a kiss on Lip's cheek. Then, a soft bite at his jaw. You've barely made it up the first three stairs before Lip has you crowded up against the wall, his chest to your back.

"Need ya to be quiet... Think you can do that? Yeah... Think you can do that.." Lip whispers right under your ear as he kisses your neck.

One of his arms braces himself against the wall beside your head as the other one snakes around to your front and toys with your waistband.

You already know what he's asking.

"..Yes, God yes..." Your voice is hushed and whining as you nod quickly. Lip wastes no time before his hand dives into your underwear and he grinds his erection against your ass.

As Lip slides his fingers over and past your clit, he starts placing kisses into your hair and any part of your face he can get to.

At the same time as he slips his middle finger inside of you, he places a gentle bite against your jaw. The dual sensations make you groan, which you fight to stifle.

The way he's pumping his finger in and out of you is making you whine. When he slips in a second, it gets worse.

His presence is all-encompassing, with his back against you and the way he's biting at your neck and shoulder. You don't bother fighting the way your hips move in time to meet the movements of his fingers.

Lip's hips match the way he's thrusting his fingers in and out of you, and you can't get enough of it. When he starts rubbing circles on your clit it makes you gasp.

The pace he sets is unforgiving. Both of you are desperate to reach your own climax. It feels all too soon when you feel the knot in your stomach building. You bite down hard on your lip when he's crooks his fingers up against your wall, whining at the feeling.

You're breathing heavily to bite back your moans, grinding your hips into his fingers as you chase your own release. You can feel when the tension in your stomach breaks, damn near sure your legs would give out with the force of your orgasm.

You bite down on Lip's bicep to stifle your moan. The groan Lip let's out is buried in your hair as he ruts against you.

Lip keeps a steady rhythm as he grinds against you as you ride out your own high. You breathe heavily against his arm, attempting to catch your breath. Lip slips his fingers out of you, sliding his hand up to press against your stomach to further press your hips into his own. He drops his head down to rest against your shoulder as his hips stutter against you.

The feeling of Lip's teeth sinking into your shoulder makes you gasp as he attempts to stifle his own moan. Lip freezes behind you, breathing harshly against your skin.

Lip's weight is heavy against your back as you both steady yourselves. He taps gently against your stomach before he removes himself from you. Lip clears his throat as he adjusts his shorts behind you. You sluggishly turn yourself around, letting your back rest against the wall as you take in his appearance.

His face is flushed, his shirt rumpled, and his shorts... The wet patch that's leaked through from his boxers is mouth watering. The bite mark on his right bicep is red and angry. You can see the indentation of your teeth still there.

The whole way Lip is right now is near enough to have you breaking your rule. You'd give just about anything to have him fuck you on the staircase. The only thing stopping you is the fact his youngest siblings are sleeping just upstairs, and you know for a fact Debbie isn't the deepest sleeper of the Gallagher clan.

"Let's go get cleaned up, baby.." Lip's words sound slurred, like he's keeping from acting on the same thoughts. All you can do is nod and hold your hands out for him.

Lip shoulders most of your weight up the rest of the stairs, your mind is still so foggy, and you're not sure your legs would work on their own.

He plops you down on his bed unceremoniously. Lip walks away from you to his dresser, opening the drawer that holds several different items of clothes for you. When he comes back to you, he's handing you a new pair of underwear and a bed shirt.

"Y'know the drill, hon.." Lip gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head before he's leaving you again, this time to collect his own new pair of clothes.

You're slow to change your clothes, but Lip gives you the time you need. By the time you're in new underwear and a comfier shirt, you're ready to melt into his bed. Your clothes are left in a pile near the foot of Lip's bed as you roll over and start trying to crawl up to where the pillows lay.

You don't bother acknowledging the sound of Lip shuffling back in until he's landed on the bed beside you. He clumsily drags you up to lay beside him, making you face him on your side.

The both of you are struggling to keep your eyes open, but you're both looking at each other with a half lidded gaze. Lip brings a hand up to hold your face gently, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone.

The moment is a stark contrast to the one you both had on the staircase. You spot the bruise starting to form on his arm and can't help yourself from placing gentle kisses against it. Lip chuckles softly, bringing his arm to wrap over you, pulling you close to his chest.

You fall asleep like that, Lip's nose buried in your hair, yours against his chest. Warm and comfortable and positively content.

When you wake up, you wish Lip's room had a proper door to it. It's something that you always wished, but it's at the forefront of your mind this morning.

The first thing that wakes you up is the light coming through the window, that brightens up the room. The second is the whispering coming from the doorway.

You can distinctly make out Debbie and Carl's voices. They're not as quiet as they think they are.

"Do you think they fucked?"

"Carl!"

"What? Their clothes are on the floor right there-" You assume he's pointing to your pile of clothes near the foot of the bed. "And Lip has no shirt on."

"Lip hasn't slept with a shirt on since he broke up with Karen and dated Mandy."

"I guess.." You know Carl hates to admit when he's wrong. "But that doesn't explain why he's holding 'em like that."

"That's how people sleep together, Carl. Without having sex. I think it's nice."

"That's boring... Ow!" You could hear the smack Debbie lands on the back of Carl's head, and you have to bury your face further into Lip's chest to keep from laughing.

"Come on.." You have to assume Debbie drags Carl away when you hear them shuffling down the hall and stairs. With them gone, you take a deep breath in relief.

"They leave?" The mutter from Lip startles you slightly.

You peak your head up over his shoulder, relieved neither of the two kids are still in the doorway.

"They're gone." You affirm, leaving your head back on the pillow, extracting yourself from Lip enough that you can look at him.

His hair is flat, where he had been resting his head on the pillow. His eyes are barely open, and he's so warm next to you.

"They're not as quiet as they like to think they are." You whisper to him. It makes him smile.

"Yeah, I know. Try livin' with them all the time.." His voice is rough with sleep and there's a tug in your stomach that makes you want to jump his bones.

"You don't live with them all the time. Live with me more than you do them these days..." There's no bite in your remark. Lip has moved so much of his clothes and smaller belongings into your apartment near campus than you think he keeps here.

You're not sure when it started happening. You were so used to Lip using your shower products when he came over, or using his at the Gallagher house, but at some point a second pair of soap and shampoo showed up on the ledge of your shower. Lip always kept clothes in your room, but at some point, clothes started migrating into your closet. At some point, half of it housed Lip's t-shirts and jeans, and there was a pair of his shoes next to yours on the floor, one of his coats beside yours in the winter.

You never notice these things until they've already appeared and been living in your space. And then it's too late to mention. So Lip has slowly been moving into your apartment, but you're not one to argue over it.

The sound of more footsteps in the hallway have you and Lip closing your eyes, feigning sleep.

"Oh shit-" It's Fiona. Her footsteps stopped briefly in the doorway,

"Ian.!" She's whisper-shouting like it'll change the fact she's even less quiet than the little kids.

Ian must be close by because it's not long before you hear the second set of footsteps stop at the door.

"Woah-"

"I knew it!" You can hear the excitement in Fiona's voice. "He kept denyin' it but I knew it, I fuckin' knew it."

"Did you hear them come in last night?" Ian's the only one that's any good at actually whispering in this house. You almost struggle to hear him.

"No. But at least they made it inside." Fiona sounds resigned by the idea of it. Ian hums in response, and you hear them both leave.

"They need to get a job..." Lip huffs.

His griping makes you giggle. When you open your eyes, Lip is already looking at you, much more awake now. His eyes remind you of ice with the way the morning light hits them.

"At least they care..." You sigh, taking in how soft he still looks this early in the day. It's something you're not sure you'll ever get used to. His face is a little rosy, a soft flush on his nose and cheeks, his hair is messy, and his eyes don't have that sharp glint in them yet.

Lip sounds not committal when he hums. Your eye catches on the deep red bruise on his bicep, small bits of purple showing up already. It's nearly a perfect ring, the outline of your mouth on his skin. It makes your stomach tug, with guilt and a warmth in your core. His eyes follow yours, and he smirks when he sees what you're looking at.

"Someone got a little mouthy last night..." He mumbles as he looks back at you.

"Shut up.." You bring a hand up and shove his face away from you. Lip starts laughing, hugging you closer to his chest. The both of you bask in the presence of the other, Lip holding you close and allowing you to listen to his heartbeat.

The moment is short-lived before there's shouting downstairs. You hear Fiona calling from the first floor.

"Lovebirds! Breakfast! You got two minutes to get dressed and down here before it's free game!" Her voice rings through the house.

"Oh shit," Lip bolts up, wasting no time tumbling out of bed. He rolls over, landing on the floor with a loud thud.

"Idiot." You tease him, climbing off his bed with a bit more grace. You grab a pair of boxers from your open drawer, slipping them on as Lip gets back up.

What you don't anticipate is the foot Lip sticks out to trip you. You let out a shocked scream, putting your hands out to brace yourself as you tumble to the ground.

Lip is on you in moments, softly jabbing at your sides and placing kisses behind your ear and along your hairline. "Who's the idiot now, huh?"

"Still you." You bite out before he begins tickling at your sides. You let out a shriek of laughter, trying to shove him away as you try to wriggle out of his grasp.

The way you're yelling at Lip to stop between fits of laughter is making Lip laugh.

"Get off, get off!! The kids are going to steal our food!" You try shoving his hands away and wiggling out from under him.

"I can think of better things to eat.." Lip stops his actions and whispers in your ear.

"Lip!" You exclaim, smacking him in the chest as you feel your face flush. He nips softly at your ear before he gets off you.

"Come on, quit playin' around.." Lip gives an affectionate pat to your ass as he climbs to his feet.

You roll your eyes at him as you stand up, bringing your hand up to cuff around the back of his head.

What you miss, when you walk out of his room, is the grin on his face. One that is sickly sweet and not what he should have when he thinks about his best friend.

You have been at this party for maybe 15 minutes before Lip is dragging you down a hallway by your wrist.

It was abrupt. You had planted yourself by the kitchen island. It gave you an overview of the living room turned dance floor, where you could watch everyone be stupid and drunk.

One guy in particular had caught your eye. It's not that you would have let him take you home, but you liked the feeling of attention it gave you to have someone look at you across the room.

This did not sit well with Lip. He had left you by the island to go talk to someone he knew from college. It didn't bother you like it should have since you had something to hold your attention.

When the guy across the room starts to push through the crowd towards you, Lip shows up to drag you away. He takes your cup out of your hand, and places it on the counter when you pass by.

"What- Lip- Lip, what are you doing?" It doesn't seem like he hears you when you try and get a reason out of him. You have no choice but to follow behind him. You're unsure how Lip knows where he's going in this house, but he manages to find you guys an empty bathroom.

Once you're inside the bathroom, Lip locks the door before he pushes you up against it by your hips.

"Should have known you'd be preening for attention.." Lip mutters as he presses kisses on your jaw. "Dressed like this... Should have known you'd be actin' up tonight..."

"Wh-What?" The bite he leaves under your ear makes you stutter, choking down a moan.

"Saw you lookin' at him... Lookin' at you like he's thinkin' 'bout fuckin' you.." Lip growls against your neck. You're not even sure what he's talking about. Lip has undone the button of your shorts, resting his fingers over your underwear.

You don't even have to think twice about it. "Yes.."

You're still not even sure who he's talking about. Lip has never been this possessive or jealous before. You don't get the chance to unpack it when Lip starts to rub tight circles over your clit.

Lip doesn't give you much time to ask anymore questions before he's inserting two fingers into you. The feeling of his fingers filling you immediately makes you inhale sharply.

"Think he'd be able to fuck you like this? Got you squirmin' on my fuckin' fingers.." You cannot think past the feeling of Lip's fingers inside of you, the filth coming out of his mouth, and the way he's grinding the heel of his hand against your clit.

"Haven't ever given you my cock and you're this needy... Think he'd be able to fuck you like that? Fuckin' yourself on my fingers like a whore..." Lip is leaving sharp bites down your neck and your jaw. The hand that's not down your pants comes up to grope at your chest, and you can feel yourself melting against the door.

You don't prove him wrong with the way your hips are grinding into his hand. The feeling of his lips along your collarbone has you gasping and writhing. You're sure that if the music wasn't so loud, people outside would be able to hear your moans.

Lip's got you right where he wants you, you're putty in his hands, you'd probably let him do whatever he wanted if it meant he kept talking and fucking you like this.

You don't catch all of the obscenities Lip says against your skin, too busy chasing the feeling of your own orgasm and bucking against his hand.

"Thinks he can look at what's mine..." His words break the haze in your mind and you can tell Lip's just saying empty words.

You're going to be sick.

"Stop- stop, stop!" You push Lip's hand away from you and tug it out of your pants. Lip looks at you wide-eyed as you push him out of your space.

You can't breathe. You're going to be sick. You can't breathe, you can't breathe, you can't breathe.

"Come on, sweetheart, look at me. Look at me, match my breathin'.." Lip's hands are on your face.

"Don't- Don't tou-" Your words are cut off by whatever is strangling you. Lip doesn't listen. He instead takes the hand gripping at your shirt and puts it against his chest. His heart is much calmer than yours is.

"Come on, honey. Need you to match my breathin'.." Lip's words are quiet and calm and so far away.

It takes you five minutes before you can breathe clearly. It takes another two for you to realize you had been crying.

Lip doesn't let go of you until you're no longer taking shuddering breaths. Once his hands leave your face, you feel cold, and you want to take away the whole meltdown you just had in order to have him close to you again.

The look he's giving you makes you want to crawl into the ground. You bring your shaky hands to button back up your shorts and adjust your shirt to look less rumpled.

"You wanna go home?" He asks like he's talking to a stray animal, like he doesn't want to spook you.

All you can do is nod. You don't want to look at him, you don't want to see the pity in his eyes.

"Can I have your hand?" He's being so gentle and considerate and you want to throw up.

You offer him your hand tentatively. Lip takes it gently before he reaches past you to unlock the door.

The journey to find your way out of the house is an exhausting one. However, the moment you're both alone seems far more dreadful.

You don't want to deal with the interrogation you already know is coming.

Lip is going to ask questions, and you're going to have to tell him that you've stupidly fallen in love with him. That you've been in love with him since before this painful charade had started.

There's a feeling of shame that bubbles up in your stomach whenever you think about how long you let this go on for. Pretending to be happy and okay with the fact you give so much to him, and he doesn't care.

The direction Lip picks is the way to your house. You had chosen this party because it was so close to your apartment but now you're regretting it. You think the silence is worse than an interrogation would be.

Lip doesn't break the silence until you make it to your apartment, the only place you'll have any sense of privacy. And maybe the last place you'll see Lip.

"What uh- what was that about?"

"Doesn't matter," You bend to slip off your shoes, discarding them by the pile you have at the door.

"Don't give me that-" He starts but you cut him off.

"Give you what, Lip? The truth? It doesn't matter so long as you can keep finger-fucking me, right? Use me for a handy from time to time?" You sound miserable and pathetic, you don't have the energy to pretend anymore.

"Don't tell me it means nothing when you just had a fucking panic attack about it!" Lip never really raises his voice at you. Not out of anger, anyways. But he's agitated, running a hand through his hair.

"What do you want to hear, Lip? That I'm okay with being with you only when I'm convenient? That it's okay that every time maybe, just maybe you won't tell me it means nothing when you fuck me?" This is truly your breaking point. "I can't sit in silence over this anymore, Lip! Not if you're going to pretend you have some fucking claim over me, like we're dating. You're good at making it very clear we're not."

Lip is silent where he stands in your kitchen. He looks like he's been slapped in the face, you kind of wish you had.

"So, if you want to hear that I'm okay with you saying I'm yours, when I've spent nights wallowing in my own self pity that I've been letting this go on, then you are sorely mistaken, Lip Gallagher." You sigh tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face.

"Why- Why didn't you say anything?" Lip is looking at you like you're crazy.

"Because I didn't want to lose you! I'd- I'd rather deal with this pain than deal with the pain of losing you, Lip."

"Why would you lose me?"

"Because, Lip, you always say it means nothing! That- That is was a mistake, and that I was convenient and it couldn't happen again but it always did!"

"No that's not- I only said that cause I didn't think- I didn't think you wanted anything serious-"

"Oh please, Lip-"

"I didn't think you wanted anything serious with me. You know I'm a mess and my family is one stop from a shitshow-"

"And you think my family's perfect?" Your voice is laced with disbelief. "My mother was gone half the time, she'll never be as bad as Monica but my life is just as much of a shitshow, Lip. I just got better at hiding it."

Lip looks hurt at the mention of both your mothers.

"I don't want to talk about the rest of this tonight, Lip. I'm tired and just- I can't have this conversation tonight." You wave a hand at him in dismissal as you turn to head down the hallway to your room.

The sound of Lip's footsteps following you down the hallway further agitates you.

"Go home, Lip!" You call over your shoulder, pushing your way past the door to your room. You walk across the room to turn on your lap, illuminating your bedroom with a soft, warm glow.

You're not surprised to see Lip standing in your doorway. He's never liked to listen to you, instead choosing to follow you around like a lost puppy.

In hopes of him leaving if you ignore him, you move to your dresser and collect your clothes for bed. You can feel his eyes on you as you move across the room, trying to bide your time before you actually have to change.

He hasn't made any move by the time you set your change of clothes on the bed. Lip was nothing if not persistent.

"I'm not doing this with you tonight." You can't meet his gaze, if you look at him you know your resolve will break.

You can see him approaching you in your periphery and you can feel your stomach dip slightly. His hand is soft where it rests on your forearm, the way his thumb gently caresses your skin makes you inhale deeply.

Turns out you don't even need to look at him for your resolve to slip

His other hand moving to cup your cheek makes your eyes flutter shut, leaning into the warmth of his touch. You don't put up much of a fight as he turns your face towards him. Lip gently rests his forehead against yours, bumping your nose with his. Having him so close is intoxicating, making you lean further into him.

The kiss Lip pulls you into is desperate, and passionate, and full of everything neither one of you has been saying. Lip holds your face gently, taking his time to savor you, a stark contrast on how he usually tastes you.

You can't help the way you melt into the kiss, grabbing onto his shirt to pull him against you. The gentleness of it all makes your stomach flip.

Lip's hand slips over your wrist, grabbing your change of clothes from your hand and tossing it to the floor beside your bed.

With that taken care of, Lip guides you to lay back against your bed. He's quick to follow you, not wanting to break the kiss for a second. You're quick to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. Lip grabs your hips softly, lifting and guiding you to lay against your pillows.

Lip's hands move from your hips to the buttons of your jeans, making quick work of the zipper. He gently coaxes you to lift your hips to slip your pants down your thighs. Your pants are quickly discarded to the floor, Lip's soon to follow them as he somehow makes even quicker work of his own zipper and button.

With less clothing in between the both of you, Lip rolls his hips against your own. The feeling of his erection rubbing against you makes you gasp. Taking the opportunity, Lip slips his tongue into your mouth. You're pliant and needy in his hands, whining into his mouth before he breaks away to catch his breath. You're quick to place soft kisses along his neck, biting softly around his Adams apple.

Lip groans softly before he pulls back. He's quick to slip your underwear down your legs and then remove his boxers. The feeling of his erection resting against your stomach is heavy, making your stomach twist. Your hips grind up against him, the vein on the underside of his cock creating a delightful friction against your clit.

One of your hands slips up to intertwine with his hair. You're quick to pull him into another soft kiss, arching your back to press your chest to his.

"Please, Lip..." Your voice is desperate as you kiss at the corner of his mouth, trailing kisses along his jaw. "Need you... Need you, right now.."

Lip's breath hitches softly in his throat. "You don't- I don't have any-"

"Doesn't matter.." You mutter, nipping at the edge of his jaw.

"Fuckin' hell..." Lip mutters before he brings you into a sloppy kiss.

The feeling of Lip's hips pulling away from you makes you whine, mourning the loss of warmth on your stomach. The moan you let out when Lip nudges the head of his cock against your clit is needy. Lip grunts in response, softly guiding his head along your folds to collect some of your slick before he attempts to push himself in.

The feeling of just the tip of him past your entrance makes you inhale sharply. Lip breathes shakily against your cheek, cursing under his breath as he pushes himself further into you. The stretch makes you wince briefly, panting heavily at the pressure in your stomach.

"Please, Lip. Please, please..." You're not sure what you're begging for but it eggs him on. Lip grunts softly as he gives a soft thrust into your heat.

Your jaw drops when Lip bottoms out. The feeling of being filled by him has your walls clenching around his cock. Lip drops his head against your shoulder as he groans, slipping his hand into yours where it lays on the mattress.

You squeeze his hand as he rolls his hips against you. The feeling of the head of his cock nudging against your cervix makes you light headed. You have no choice but to watch as Lip moves his free hand to rest against the wall, taking in the way his arm flexes.

Lip lifts his head up from your shoulder to kiss at your jaw, slowly pulling out to just the tip before softly thrusting back in. You can feel the vein along his shaft rubbing against your walls.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, sweetheart..." Lip groans when he bottoms out again. He tries to stifle the whine in his throat when he feels your walls clenching around him. He's much deeper than you had thought possible, you can feel him all the way in your stomach.

"Holy shit- Y'so fuckin' tight, baby... Thought we stretched y'enough.." Lip kisses your cheek softly. All you can do is whine in response, squeezing his hand again.

The pace Lip starts with is gentle, pulling out to the tip before thrusting back in firmly. The motions make you squirm, rutting your hips up into him.

"More..." You whine. "Please, Lip, need more.."

Lip groans at your words, knocking his nose against yours. With your encouragement, Lip quickens his pace.

The familiar beginnings of a knot forming in your stomach has you moving your hips in time to move with Lip's. Lip removes his hand from the wall, winding its way in between your bodies. The tight circles he starts rubbing against your clit makes you moan, bucking your hips into his hand.

The movements of Lip's hips quicken when he feels the way your walls are clenching around his cock. Similar to the way they clenched around his fingers so many times before. The hitching of your breath encourages Lip even further, grinding deep inside of you to punctuate each thrust with.

Lip is quick to dip his head into your neck, biting softly under your ear, making you whimper softly. The culmination of his fingers, cock, and mouth along your body is enough to have the knot in your stomach unraveling.

Your walls flutter with your release before clamping down on him. The sensation makes Lip groan into your neck, grinding into you as the first ropes of his release coat your insides. The warmth makes you moan softly, pressing the side of your face into Lip's hair. Lip's hips grind softly against you as you both ride out your climax. When he removes his face from your neck your chest aches at the loss of closeness.

Lip kisses you softly as he gently ruts his hips into you. You whine softly as the feeling of overstimulation starts to creep into your nerves. You can feel the mix of both your releases slipping out of you with each gentle thrust Lip gives you. The mixture slides down your ass and onto the sheets under you.

He nudges your nose with his as you whimper at the feeling of it all.

"'S too much. Too much, Lip.." You whine against his mouth, lifting your hips softly.

"I know, but y'gotta keep it all, baby.." Lip gives you one more gentle thrust before he stills. He starts to pepper kisses to your cheek, trying to make up for it.

Lip pulls out of you slowly, watching where the mix of both of you leaks out of your hole. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth as he collects it with his finger, gently pushing the mixture back into you.

"I know, I know.." Lip whispers when you whine at the feeling.

Lip flops down onto the mattress, huffing softly. You can feel his gaze on you as you catch your breath. The feeling of Lip's hand caressing your ribs jolts you out of your mind fog, making you turn to look at his face.

"We should've done that so long ago..." Lip sighs, giving you a soft smirk.

You roll your eyes at him, "Someone was too busy having his head so far up his own ass for us to even try.."

"Whatever," Lip smiles at you before he kisses you sweetly. When he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are full of adoration and something you can't name.

"What're you lookin' at?" You whisper, fighting a grin.

"Somethin' really special..." Lip replies before he gives you another kiss. "Something real special.."

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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[wosoamazing]

Misconceptions

Alessia Russo x Cately!R/ADHD!R x Arsenal

This fic is very close to home and I am scared to post it for many reasons. I would like to say, if you don’t like it just move on, these are my opinions and thoughts and experiences, not everyone will agree but that's just life. Also just a reminder not everyone experiences adhd the same and it is a ‘spectrum’ so keep that in mind while reading. 

Please let me know what you think of it and also don’t be surprised if it disappears, I don’t think I’ve ever been more nervous to post anything. (I also don't know if I like it soo...) Also let me know if you want another part and what you would want to see in it

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Leah asked as she entered the locker room, and you had no clue what she was asking about.

“Because she doesn’t have to, how did you find out anyway” Steph blurted out. With that you knew exactly what she was asking, and you were glad you had Alessia by your side, holding your hand tightly, one of the only things keeping you grounded.

Why didn’t you tell us about your ADHD is what Leah was really asking.

-

It wasn’t a simple question and there wasn’t a simple answer. Yes, you didn’t have to tell them but it was more than that. It’s hard living with a condition people don’t take seriously. A condition people believe they have because of the name, and to top it off adhdtok wasn’t helping. If anything it was spreading more misbeliefs, yes forgetfulness, easily distracted and not being able to sit still were part of adhd but it ran deeper.

It isn’t just forgetfulness when you run through a list of everything you need before you leave a class and still forget something. It isn’t just easily distracted when no matter how hard you try to focus on the conversation in front of you, you can still hear every word that is being said in the conversation happening beside you, when you don’t want to, it’s not being easily distracted it’s having to focus on one thing when you can hear and notice every single other thing going on around you.

It was hard to tell people and there was usually one of four reactions.

Some people believed it was just made up. That adults used it as an excuse as to why their life hadn’t panned out how they had hoped. That parents used it as an excuse not to parent. Which some people did, however, when you were parented, so much so that you got your door taken away from you it was hard to see people using it as an excuse and people therefore believing it was just an excuse.

Some people would throw in the off handed comment of, ‘oh I think I have adhd too,’ along with ‘I’m so forgetful,’ ‘I hate sitting still,’ everyone is forgetful at times, it’s part of life, losing 15 lunchboxes in your first year of high school isn’t just forgetful and you needed a lunchbox to be able to take your lunch to school, so your parents had to keep buying you new ones.

Some people would tell you that makes sense, which in fact doesn’t make sense.

Some people would say ‘but you are too well behaved to have adhd,’ or ‘you’re too smart to have adhd,’ or ‘you work too hard to have adhd’. If anything that's a compliment, but it isn’t it just shows the societal views that people with adhd have no worth ethic, that they don’t care and that they can’t go anywhere, once again because people used it as an excuse. But it didn’t matter if you had adhd or not, anyone can do what they want with their life and be successful. Anyone who is successful in what they wish to achieve in life are only successful because they work hard and pour their heart and soul into what they want.

-

As you tried to decide what to answer you could feel every single set of eyes burn into your skin as they awaited your answer, as if they did have the right to know, which really they didn’t, but you couldn’t just not say anything. You let out a deep shaky breath. 

“I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to know who I was, and not know me as a label. I also didn’t want to have to listen to all your opinions or backhanded comments,” you replied, probably a little too harshly.

Before anyone could say anything Alessia headed out of the locker room taking you with her. You were very much thankful that she had the guts to leave, because you definitely didn’t but after getting injured in the match, then getting accused of cheating because the anti-doping tester fucked up badly, and then being essentially interrogated in the locker room, you were feeling overwhelmed to say the least. 

_

As Alessia started to leave the car park she placed a soft hand on your thigh causing you to look up at her, and her incredibly cute and loving face.

“I love you,” you told her, “I love you too,” she replied.

Ever since you met Alessia you were forever grateful, it was like she was your other half, you both fit together so perfectly, and you both always knew what the other was thinking without having to talk, she made life so much better.

It was later when you were in bed that all your emotions came crashing down, you laid next to Alessia on your stomach, you head facing away from her, as you tried to keep the tears at bay, at least until she was asleep, you didn’t want to keep her awake any longer than she needed to be. However that didn’t work when you accidentally sniffled too loudly.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she placed a hand on your back, you just nodded your head knowing your voice would betray you right now, causing Alessia to sigh heavily, “baby, you know I know you’re not okay. I know you’re thinking about today, and I promise you did nothing wrong, that Liverpool player did something wrong and she deserved the yellow not you, that tester shouldn’t have a job and Leah shouldn’t have confronted you like that, let alone in front of the team,” Alessia’s words caused the tears to fall more and your shoulders started shaking, indication to her that you weren’t just crying anymore.

“Come here,” she said and although you shook your head in reply you still moved closer to her, allowed her to pull you on top of her, your head resting in the crook of her neck, “today was a hard day, I know, and I’m sorry it happened, but I promise I will always be here for you, and you never have to hide being upset or hide that you’re crying, I love you so much and that will never change”

“Baby, you don’t need to wake up yet but you need to take this, otherwise you won’t be able to sleep tonight,” Alessia said as she woke you up lightly, causing you to groan before standing up to get out of bed, “you don’t have to get up, I have it here,” Alessia said concerned, knowing your head was probably hurting from the collision in the match yesterday but also from your crying last night, and she thought sleeping would do you some good, however you didn’t seem to want that, or maybe you thought you couldn't.

“I want to get up, cuddle with you on the couch,” you mumbled as you rested your head on her shoulder, waiting for your head to stop spinning.

“Sounds like a plan, you go sit on the couch, and I’ll get you some toast, and then we can cuddle”

When you were diagnosed at 12 you decided you wanted to try meds and thankfully the first one you tried worked, meaning that you had just upped your dosage over the years. In another 6 months you would be finding out whether you would need your meds forever or whether you had caught up meaning you no longer needed them, however as you were diagnosed slightly late it was unknown whether this would be the case or not.

Another author note: ADHD is a developmental delay therefore meaning if caught early enough and treated early one has the possibility to catch up.

[slasherscream]

I don't normally like make requests from people if it's obvious I'm sorry for my awkwardness.

Anyway you were saying how you were really into Jordan li recently so am I and I've read every single fanfiction or every rant there is about them and I crave more. I have been in a angst/fluff mood and I haven't seen anyone do this idea either. I was thinking thinking maybe Jordan and reader gets into an argument (not really picky about what) and the argument gets really heated (you know how jordan shifts into their male form to Intimidate or get their point across) Jordan shifts into their male form which scares reader (I'm thinking reader doesn't have a good past with angry men) and reader backs away from them in fear Jordan notices and tries to comfort them but reader flinched when Jordan touches them. Reader then asks them to leave so they do but Jordan spends like a week trying to make the situation better.

(I would also like to put reader isn't scared of Jordan more so the action of the blatant Intimidation tactic they tried to use against reader. Reader is angry that jordan would try to scare them even if it wasn't on purpose it still hurt)

Jordan sorta just spends a week following reader around Like a lost puppy trying to treat reader like a absolute queen even if reader won't really acknowledge them until Jordan has an breakdown while drunk coming to readers dorm begging for forgiveness.

Again if its obvious I don't know how to make requests I'm sorry this has just been on my mind for so long.

A/N: this request is absolutely perfect, and exactly to my tastes. thank you for sending it, doll!

WORD COUNT: 4k+ under cut | hurt/comfort and angst/fluff

It’s hard sometimes, knowing when to push and when to just let Jordan be. Not at all a skill you learned over night. You’d gotten good at the push and pull of bringing them out of their shell back when the two of you had just been friends. Better at it than anyone else, at least. It was a slow process, but every second was worth it.

Now on the good days you don’t have to push at all. A hand on their arm. A coaxing smile or two. Any act of connection, no matter how small, enough to make them tell you what’s on their mind. Even if they scowl the entire time they let it out. It’s the letting it out at all that counts. Progress!

Today you miscalculated. It’s been a bad week. Jordan hadn’t dropped in the rankings, but their points took a small dip. They hadn’t been very active on their socials, busy doing work as Brink’s TA. But the point gap between where Jordan sits at #2 in the rankings, and where Andre sits at #3 is still a wide open chasm. 

It’d take something truly disastrous to knock Jordan from the spot they’ve held for three years now. But the rankings are more important than anything to Jordan. No matter how gently you try to bring logic into the situation, Jordan gets irritated quickly, accusing you of not taking it seriously. You often wonder how that could be, considering you’re in the top eight yourself, but you bite your tongue and don’t bring it up.

The group had tried to go out for lunch. It was okay at first, everyone making an effort to ignore the storm cloud Jordan cast over the table as they picked at their food. Then Andre had made some type of stupid joke. Not even about the rankings, but enough to make Jordan snap at him. The situation escalated so quickly that Cate had threatened to take off her glove and make everyone shut up. You paid your portion of the bill and dragged Jordan out before anyone could start up again. 

And now you’re here, somehow also on the shit list for not being supportive enough. As if being supportive isn't everything you do. Day in and day out.

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side. You don’t honestly think it was an innocent comment, do you?” Jordan snaps, standing up from your couch to pace the length of your dorm room. 

“You know how Andre is. He gets sarcastic when he’s hungover, and he was packing a double whammy. He did coke and got drunk last night. He was just a little off. He wasn’t making a real dig at you.” You defend your friend, knowing Jordan will regret what she said at lunch once she’s calmed down. 

“Oh, so we’re all just supposed to tiptoe around his highness? If he was gonna be a dick during the entire thing he should have just skipped coming out with us.” Jordan’s eyes narrow in on your expression, the sudden pursing to your lips and looking away. “What?” She snaps.

You take a deep breath at the tone, “Well, Jordie, if you want me to be honest Andre wasn’t the only one who wasn’t on their best behavior today.” 

A beat of silence.

You look up and there goes Jordan rolling her shoulders back, eyebrows practically in her hairline and you sigh. You definitely should have brought up her attitude later. 

“You really are taking his side!” She scoffs in disbelief. 

“Nope. No, I am not, there are no sides. We’re all friends. Friends fight. I’m just trying to remind you that you actually are friends. You can’t just…” You trail off, uncertain. 

“I can’t just what?” She throws up her hands, volume raising. 

“You can’t act like this every time the rankings do something that isn’t spectacular for you. I know they mean a lot to you but you can’t take the numbers out on the people who care about you.”

“You just don’t get it-”

“But I do get it! We talk about it all the time. Your feelings are completely valid, the way you react to them isn’t. You’ve been giving Andre looks that could kill all week and he didn’t even do anything. If he was a little snappy at lunch, maybe he’s upset that his friend has been treating him like shit over something he barely cares about.” 

“Well if I’m so-” Jordan shifts, pitch of his voice deepening, on the verge of yelling, “-fucking awful why don’t you go run to Andre and cry about it together?” 

He only takes two steps towards the couch before you use your powers. It’s instinct, the way the forcefield bubbles up around you. 

Whatever Jordan was going to say next shrivels up and dies on his tongue. The only sounds in the room are the quiet hum your powers make when you use them, and the scared, panicked gasp you make from inside the forcefield you put up to protect yourself from him.

There’s a second where the two of you just stare at each other. Both in shock. 

“Baby-” Jordan tries taking another step forward, a small, barely there shuffle of his foot. His face falls when the forcefield gets a little louder, glows a little brighter. 

Jordan looks close to tears. It’s that expression that pulls you out of the animal state of fear you’d fallen into. You look away from them. Take a few heaving breaths. Do your best to not mix up faces of the past with your present and future.

Your forcefield flickers out slowly. A concentrated effort. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- I would never ever-'' Jordan shifts again. She rushes too fast into your space to kneel on the ground in front of you, her hands reaching for yours, desperate and clumsy.

When you flinch away, moving so you’re perched on the armrest of the couch, still trying to calm yourself down, she’s left with her hands grasping at air. “Baby, look at me. Please? Look at me, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry. I would never hurt you. I fucking swear I wasn’t-”

“I know, Jordan.” You shake your head, trying to stay calm. “Could you please….leave? I… I can’t calm down right now. I’m trying. I know you didn’t mean to… to scare me, but I need you to go.” 

“Baby, wait, fuck. Fuck, wait! I’m sorry. Let’s just talk. I can’t leave you alone like this. I’m sorry.” She’s panicking now, throat feeling like it’s closing up. 

She doesn’t try to reach for you again, but her hands feel like they’re burning from the effort it takes to keep them away from you. It’s instinct to hold you, to make it better, to pull you closer. She’s always been the place you run to when you’re scared, the shield you step behind when you need to feel safe. She doesn’t know what to do when you don’t even want to be near her.

“We’ll talk later. I’ll… I’ll have Cate come over so I’m not alone. Just.. leave.” Your voice breaks on a sob, and you’re begging her to leave, and that’s what makes Jordan head to the door, legs shaking. She’s never made you cry before. 

She’s glued to her phone the rest of the day, waiting for you to call. You don’t. 

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

You’ve been best friends since you were freshman. You haven’t gone longer than two days without talking in all that time since. No matter how busy you are. No matter how shitty either of you feels. Jordan doesn’t know what to do with the hours of the day that you usually fill. 

She breaks on the second day when you show up to class and move to sit by Luke on the other side of the room instead of with her. You don’t even look at her as you walk by. 

Class doesn’t start for another five minutes. The teacher isn’t even here yet, and she’s always late. Jordan moves to get up, already feeling like she’s choking on all the words she needs to say to you to fix this, but is stopped by a firm grip around her wrist. She’s about to snap when she realizes it’s Cate, taking up your usual spot in the seat that isn’t up for grabs because it’s Your Seat. 

“Don’t make the situation worse. She just wants to go to class. Don’t hound her, Jordan.”

“Hound her?” Jordan’s voice raises, incredulous. “She’s my girlfriend. I need to talk to her.” 

“You need to apologize.” Cate bites. “Dick.” 

“That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped me.” Jordan speaks through gritted teeth.

“How about you try apologizing after she’s done all her classes? That way, when you inevitably upset her, she doesn’t hole herself up in her room all day crying. And feel bad about missing class on top of it. You know… the way she spent all of yesterday?” 

“She cried all day?” Jordan’s shoulders sag, voice getting smaller. 

Cate softens, patting Jordan’s hand.  “It’s not just about you, and you know that. Triggers like this really fuck with people. And she’s also pissed that she’s triggered in the first place. Let her cool off.”

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

He makes it a few hours before he’s trailing after you. 

He can tell by the tension in the line of your spine that you know he’s there. But you don’t outright tell him to get lost, so Jordan can’t stop himself from following you around. Even if you don’t want him there. 

He sits across from you as you study in the library. Makes puppy dog eyes at you the entire time. He can’t be bothered to unpack his bag. It’d be useless to pretend he’ll do anything besides watching you.  

Two hours in, he gets up and leaves, hating the way your shoulders relax as he turns to go. 

He comes back twenty minutes later with your favorite foods and drink from the best local coffee shop. You don’t reach for any of it. He’s always loved how stubborn you are, how you stick to your ideas. Your principles. How steadfastly you make up your mind. Right now he’s just a little terrified of that same stubbornness. Remembers when you’d only been friends, that first year of peeling one another open, feeling each other out. 

(“I’ll never do it, Jordan.” You’d whispered vehemently, drunk and mad and beautiful. 

“Do what?” 

“Be with anyone who tries to fucking cow me into submission. It’s fucked. I won’t do it. I’ve had enough of it.” 

You’d passed the bottle you’d just had pressed to your lips and Jordan had tried not to think too hard about it, even when he tasted the remnants of your sticky, sweet lip gloss beneath the vodka.) 

He doesn’t get up to leave again until you do. 

Jordan walks you to your dorm, but trails a few steps behind you. He tried walking directly beside you at first, but your hands brushed together and the look you gave him was cold enough to freeze blood. 

So-

-behind it is. 

Jordan doesn’t get the chance to say goodnight before you slam the door in his face as loudly as possible.

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

Jordan doesn’t push her luck by trying to walk you to your classes the next morning. She does wake up extra early to buy you the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers she could find. She leaves them outside your door and goes to class, hoping you’ll at least acknowledge her, the next time you see her.

During your first shared class of the day you walk in holding the bouquet of flowers. Jordan perks up in her seat, holding her breath. You do finally look at her. You make direct eye contact as you throw the flowers into the trash can at the teacher’s desk.

Jordan does not break her pen in half when Andre whispers “yikes” under his breath.

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

Two more days and Jordan feels like he’s going insane. He knows you feel worse. One glance at the carefully nonchalant expression you’ve worn all week tells him that. Putting on a mask is nothing for you. That look is the first thing you learned how to do in the top ten. 

You’d never hidden the way you felt around him before. Not like this. His skin keeps buzzing with the urge to corner you. Jordan needs the two of you to talk about what happened. But he’s already walking the world’s thinnest line. 

And he knows he can’t force you, if you’re not ready. 

Another thing he knows: when you’re this upset you don’t clean. Simultaneously, when your room gets messy your depression gets worse. He skips one of your mutual classes of the day and lets himself into your dorm with the key you gave him during first year. 

Jordan looks around, wincing at the chaos. You never let it get this bad. Not even during your most soul crushing finals. He starts by throwing away the trash. The tissues you wiped your tears with. The takeout containers. Pages of your notebooks you ripped out, carelessly thrown around the room. You take awful notes in class when you’re distracted. He hates that he’s distracting you.

He wipes down every surface with your favorite scented cleaner. Dusts your books. Sweeps and mops. Changes your sheets and grabs the brightest, happiest color comforter you have stashed in your closet to put on the bed. As he adjusts the pillows he thinks about how often you spend the night at each other’s dorms. Jordan wonders if you’ve been struggling to sleep like he has. 

He hesitates, but goes to his room down the hall to grab his cologne. He spritzes it lightly over the bed and hopes you still find the way he smells comforting. 

Next is your laundry. He starts up a few loads, irons and puts away the clothes that were sitting in a wrinkled heap on your couch. You’ve always hated doing your laundry. 

He’s heading back to your room, a full laundry basket of clean clothes under each arm when you run into each other.

“Are those my clothes?” You ask, forgetting that you aren’t exactly speaking to him in your moment of confusion. 

“Yeah… I’m… I was cleaning my room. Doing some stuff. Figured I’d do a few of your loads too, while I’m already at it.” He shoots for casualness, knows he fails miserably.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, words stiff and uncomfortable. 

“I know I just…” Jordan shrugs, relieved to be standing within a few feet of you after days of silence, and feeling pathetic over how happy something so small makes him. “Why don’t you go get something to eat with Cate while I finish up here?” 

“Finish up what?” You ask.

“I still gotta put these away.” 

You sigh, wanting the conversation to end, “You don’t have to put my clothes away, Jordan. Or wash them. I’m quite capable of doing it myself.”

Jordan takes a step back when you make a reach for one of the baskets under his arms. “I know that! Just let me do it. Doing your laundry always pisses you off. I’ve got it.” 

A battle of wills ignited. You, staring him down. Jordan, trying not to squirm. He wants to try apologizing again but doesn’t know if he’ll only make it worse.

“Please, baby? Go somewhere nice with Cate. My treat.” He puts down a laundry basket (behind him, so you can’t take it) to grab his phone from his pocket, and does something you can’t see. 

When you hear the particular chime your banking app makes when you get a Zelle deposit you roll your eyes. You don’t bother checking your phone and seeing how much he sent. You know it’s too much. But if you say anything he’ll just say you and Cate have expensive tastes (which…true.)

“Maybe you can catch a movie too? I still gotta finish up with your bathroom.” 

“Jordan.” 

“Just,” Jordan shifts, putting down the other laundry basket and slowly reaching out to grab your hand with hers. She could almost cry when you let her touch you. “I know you’re fucking pissed at me. And I know you’re still too upset to talk about it. But…. fuck, please just let me take care of you. Please. I have to do something. I can’t just sit around, after I made you feel like this. It’s driving me nuts. I’m supposed to-” 

You stop her, putting a hand on her cheek and sighing, “Okay, Jordan. I’ll go hang out with Cate while you finish.” 

“Don’t ‘hang out’, go get dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.” She says, sullen and staring up at you, playing with your fingers while you’re still letting her touch you, the first time in days. 

“I’ll head to Cate’s.” 

“Nah, head to Luke’s. They’re studying together right now.” Jordan takes a risk, stepping into your space slowly, giving you the time to move away. She leans in and kisses your cheek, gentle. When you don’t move away she can’t help herself, kisses the edge of your lips too. 

You don’t kiss her back, but you give her hand a squeeze as you pull away. You stop halfway down the hall before you turn back to look at Jordan. “Call Cate and tell her she better not be fucking Luke by the time I get to his dorm.” 

Jordan laughs. Your face is a little more relaxed as you turn away this time.

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

On Friday the group goes out to the club. They chose one of your favorite haunts, hoping it would entice you enough to join. You still declined the invitation. Everyone knew you would. They still wanted to try. 

You claimed you had a lot of work to catch up on. 

“She hates me. She fucking hates me.” Jordan groans into his hands, already three drinks and two shots in. 

“Well, let’s not panic.” Luke says. 

“Or be dramatic.” Andre snorts, taking a shot of his own. “You two are obsessed with each other. Relax.” 

“Relax?!” Jordan tenses, “My girl won’t fucking talk to me. How am I supposed to relax?” 

“She talked to you yesterday.” Andre drawls. 

“That wasn’t anything. We usually-”

“-Spend every free second of the day together? We know.” Luke teases. When Jordan doesn’t even smile he winces and slides him another shot. 

“She’s not even that mad. She’s more upset than anything.” Cate says, cuddling into Luke’s side. 

Jordan’s eyes follow the movement and he swallows at the distinct lack of your own weight leaning into him. You always get touchy when you’re tipsy. Climbing on top of him, clinging to him like glue. It’s his favorite part of nights out together. That and the playful booing you guys get from the group. 

Andre cuts back in, “I’m serious, dude. Relax! You guys have been together for how long now-”

“Three years.”

“-yeah, exactly. Since the fucking building of the pyramids. You two will be fine. She knows you didn’t mean anything by it. One fight won’t kill you.” 

“This wasn’t a fight, though. I fucked up! You didn’t see the look on her face. When she used her powers… I mean, fuck! You know? She was scared of me.”

“You know that’s not true, Jordan.” Luke protests. 

Jordan runs his hands through his hair, ruining the carefully slicked back style.

“Let’s just get you another drink. Come on, dude.” Andre wraps an arm around Jordan, hauling him to his feet and pulling him towards the bar. 

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

You get woken up by the sound of knocking on your door. Loud knocking. You keep your eyes closed, hoping whoever it is will go away. You don’t even want to be awake. Let alone socializing. 

The knocking gets louder. Exhausted, you drag yourself out of bed. You glance at your phone on the bedside table as you get up. It’s three in the morning. Now you’re exhausted and pissed. 

You stomp over to the door, wrenching it open, prepared to cuss someone out. You deflate when you see who it is. “Oh, hey.”

Jordan is leaning heavily on the door frame, staring at you with watery, red eyes. She looks like the walking dead. “Baby. Fuck, did I wake you up? I thought you’d still be awake. You said you were pulling an all-nighter.”

“I was tired. Just wanted to sleep.” You shrug. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Still at the club, took an uber back. Too fucked up for anything else.” She mutters.

“That’s good, Jordan.” You say. 

“You haven’t called me Jordan since freshman year. What happened to Jordie?” She sighs. 

Your face softens. “Baby…”

“No, wait, just let me…” Jordan leans her forehead against the door-frame, closing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. I’m sorry that when I get pissed I take it out on everyone around me. I’m sorry that I don’t fucking listen when you’re just trying to make me feel better. I’m sorry I yelled… I’m sorry I shift-”

“Whoa, hey.” You cut her off, shocked. “You shifting isn’t the problem, Jordan. Fuck, come inside, honey.” You say, taking her hand and pulling her inside. 

You sit the two of you on the couch, clicking on the light so you can see each other. You move so you’re facing each other, pulling her hands into your lap. “First off let’s set one thing straight. You shifting is never the problem, okay?” 

“You got so fucking scared.” Jordan looks away, hair falling into her face.

“Not of you.. Just the fucking… optics of it! I don’t ever want you to be something you’re not. And you’ve got the incredible gift of being able to be whatever you feel like being any time you want to.” You reach out and touch her cheek, guiding her to look at you, “I don’t want you to not do that. I wouldn’t ever want you not to do that, okay?”

“Okay.” She says. There’s a moment of silence, then Jordan shifts. He looks for any sign of fear or hesitation, holding his breath. When he doesn’t see any he relaxes. “But I scared you so bad you used your powers.” 

“Yeah, that did happen.” You nod, caressing his cheek with your thumb, “Maybe it’s just a little scary when someone bigger and stronger than me starts yelling like that. Also, invulnerable. Let’s not forget that. Food for thought.” 

He closes his eyes, “I’m an idiot.” 

“For yelling at me? Yeah, just a little. Don’t yell at me like that no matter what form you’re in. That's always scary. Couples talk. They don’t yell. Most of the time. We can’t be the couple that does that.”

“I’ll never yell like that again. Either form. I promise.” Jordan says, “Can I hold you? It’s been a fucking week. I’m losing my mind.” 

You laugh, climbing into his lap and Jordan sighs, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. He tucks your head into his neck. “I missed you like fucking crazy.” 

“Missed you too.” You sigh, “Stay the night?” 

“You’re not leaving my sight for the next two months.” He laughs, pulling you closer.

“Only two months? That’s fucked up, I thought you missed me.” You tease. 

“Shut up.” He scoffs, kissing the side of your head. 

You snuggle closer, letting the tension of the week drift away.

“You yell at me like that again and your only hope is being invulnerable, actually. I’ll put you through a wall.” You kiss his shoulder cheerfully. 

“I’d do it before you got the chance.”

You burst into laughter and he pulls your head away from his shoulder so he can see you the way you’re supposed to look around him. Happy. Content. He can’t stop himself from kissing you. You can’t stop yourself from kissing back. 

[idkfitememate]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write another part for Otter creator! Like maybe them with Furina and Neuvillette having a tea party or something! (Possibly Wriothesley[?]!!), and they start realising more! (If Wriothesley’s there he should be oblivious for a bit!)

The Otter Chronicles Pt. 1

♡︎ « Next Part ⋙

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Otter Reader x Fontaine

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 1.3k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff, yandere-ish behavior (really straining the term here), itty bitty bit of angst

“Tea party, hooray!” It was easy to see that Furina was excited.

Because today was the day for your first REAL tea party. Not just locked in a room with her for a day.

And yes you meant a literal day. Like a whole ass day.

Anyway-

Her and Neuvillette were going to FINALLY take you to meet Wriothesley! Yay! It was just a date to take about some royal officiant bullshit you couldn’t bring yourself to care about, but as per usual, they refused to take you out of their sights.

So here you were, getting all dolled up in Lady Furina’s lap. A new bow tie, a fancier hat, and somehow Otter friendly makeup.

Where they found it? You don’t know. Did they make it? You’re 99.9% sure they had it commissioned. Do you look good with cate eye eyeliner? Hell yes.

You were now being carried in the Otter Pack™️ (a rather large and plush satchel that Neuvillette carried around, filled with lush blankets and pillows and only the FINEST toys for you to play with) with your head sticking out of the top, your fur freshly combed and oiled. Neuvillette’s fingers curled through what wasn’t covered by the hat.

Hell, you even had on some adorable golden and lapis embedded clip on earrings - they wouldn’t dare pierce your ears for fear of hurting you and damaging your hearing.

People cooed at you in your Otter Pack™️ and you sucked that shit up, you were basically drowning in sparkles!~ All the while Furina and Neuvillette spoke above you.

“Are we sure we should bring mon preux chevalier? I mean, naturally we should share their beauty with the world but… in a place filled with criminals..?” Furina spoke in a hushed tone, not wanting you to hear her.

“I understand my Lady, but there is no one to trust to take care of them. Who will give them their favorite treats? Shine their coat? Scratch their tummy? No can do it the way we can, Lady Furina. Besides, we are here for only a Tea Party, it should only last around two hours with the matter we must discuss. Three hours at the latest.” Neuvillette replied. Though in truth, he had just as many issues with the whole situation.

It truly was a shame no one was as capable to take care of their darling Otter as them. *Dramatic sigh in French*

Arriving at the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, the duo were ushered inside and directly into Wriothesley’s office.

“Lady Furina! Monsieur Neuvillette! How nice it is to have you in humble prison. Please, follow me.” Wriothesley smoothly opened the conversation, leading the duo to his tea table. Finally, he noticed the Otter Pack™️.

“*Ahem* I see we have a… guest?” Wriothesley mused. See he hadn’t been on the surface for a bit, and news travels slow beneath the waves, so had had no clue of the big hydro duo’s new friend.

“Yea. This is Le superviseur officiel du jury du palais de justice de Fontaine. La Loutre de l'Opéra Eclipse*.” Neuvillette responded curtly. You chittered happily at the title you had just been given as off the last trial held. And Wriothesley only sweated at the long title.

“I… see. Anyway, if we are ready to begin…” And with that you stopped listening.

You had been here for barely a few minutes and you were already bored. See, usually with Furina, something would be happening. Something spectacular! Or intriguing! Never had you seen her in such a… boring environment. Hell, you could tell she was bored but you supposed that being an Archon came with other bullshit jobs other than being pretty and revered.

You hopped out of the Otter Pack™️ and snuggled up in Neuvillette’s lap, and noticed the extra teacup in front of you. Chittering, you sniffed and licked at it, then curled up once more.

You were trying to hide your boredom, but seemed to be failing as you felt Neuvillette’s fingers comb through the fur on your back. You basically purred at the affection, before sighing. Furina turned to you and called out to you.

“Mon ange? Are you bored? Well I, Furina, have just the cure!~” She said in a sing-songy tune. After, she waved her hand and in a puff of hydro, Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta were summoned.

You jumped up, messing up your hat and allowing Neuvillette to fix it, before the four of you jumped up to play. The three swam around you in the air while you followed quickly on the floor, causing the three to laugh. Though, Neuvillette noticed something.

Now, already he and Furina noticed you were smarter than other Otters, being able to understand human speech. You could solve puzzles, and once you had even helped solve a rather hard case! But this was… something else.

Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta and even Singer of Many Waters could speak… kind of. They had their own little babbly language that only Furina could only understand sometimes, and even then it was rocky. That’s why they mostly acted out their wants and needs with over the top gestures… but you.

An otter.

Could understand them perfectly.

You weren’t the only otter they had been summoned around, but then those otter would run away or stay around in curiosity.

But you could understand everything.

You could understand what a god couldn’t.

And that’s when something inside the Dragon Sovereign clicked.

He had been an avid follower of The Creator. The one Above all. Listening gently to all their false promises of bringing his brethren back. If fixing this world of its problems. He would watch as they only cared for themselves. As they punished anyone who went against them. Punished the innocent. As they lavished in the foods and clothes and jewels bestowed upon them by their followers.

Yet the flowers wouldn’t bloom in their presence. The wind wouldn’t blow gently through their hair. The ground and earth wouldn’t stop its quakes. The water would calm its waves. The lightning wouldn’t slow its descent. The fires wouldn’t lower their flames. The ice wouldn’t smooth over and slow the snow.

In fact, flowers would wilt when around them. The wind would whip into windstorms and the earth would rumble with ferocity. Water would rise to heights uncharted and lightning would strike behind their heels. Flame would rise higher and higher and fill the air with ash and snow would turn to hail, ice turning to sharp points around them.

It was the opposite with their darling Otter. He knew something was… not quite right with them. They always had this feel about them.

The melusine would act weirdly about them. Giving them wider smiles and now that he was thinking about it truly… they seemed to always know what they wanted. Even the Clockwork Meka would bow in their presence. When they swam it was always as though the current would work with them, and fish and other creatures of the sea would always surround them, following behind them… almost like…

A veil.

A veil that matched the one their creator always had on in every art of them.

On any statue.

In any painting.

In any description in every book.

They always had a veil.

And glancing at their beloved otter?

Their blue tuff of fur? They lined their back? Combined with the flowing fabrics of their top hat?

Created a veil.

“Excuse me Wriothesley, me Lady Furina must go discuss something. Please keep an eye on ma moitié for us please.” Neuvillette spoke quickly, gently gripping Furina’s arm as she protested, and they both left the room.

You and the three summons looked at the closing office door, then at Wriothesley. He stared back.

“Uhm… hello there, little otter.”

You only chittered in response.

And as Neuvillette and Furina rounded a corner, the Sovereign pressed a hand to her complaining lips.

“My Lady, firstly, my sincerest apologies for dragging you out here. Secondly, I believe I have made a… shocking discovery about our ˈbābē…” Neuvillette’s voice was hushed, making Furina nervous.

“What.. what do you think you found..?” She asked.

“I believe… our darling Otter… is the true Creator…”

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Hehehehe… How will Furina react to this knowledge? What with Neuvillette do with this information? And will Wriothesley ever get over seeing an Otter so close to his Archon? Tune in next week to find out!~

Anyway, I love this and where it’s going! I haven’t had to write any angst and I feel it coming now! Hehehe ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

* The official Jury Supervisor of the Courthouse of Fontaine . The Otter of the Opera Eclipse

[happy74827]

No Ordinary Life

[Sam Riordan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: The group had almost ran out of options on what to do with Sam, but Andre had decided there was still one more option to explore. And that option, was you. (GIF credits: @heronamedhawks)

WC: 1,179

Category: Slight Fluff, Slight Angst

We don’t know much about Sam as of right now, but I do know I would literally die for this boy. He and Emma really deserve the world, and they fr better have their happy ending (which seems impossible given the universe they live in, but one can hope). This definitely deserves a part 2, depending how well it goes, but for now enjoy the purity that is Sam.

Edit(2023): Hey I finally made the part 2, check it out here

『••✎••』

As Sam walked down the bustling halls of Godolkin, he couldn't help but feel like an outsider. All around him, kids with extraordinary powers, kids like him, were chatting, laughing, and walking to their classes. They were able to use their gifts freely and openly, and they were respected by others for it, but Sam didn't have that luxury. Honestly, he couldn’t remember a time that he did.

All he remembered was the woods, his brother, and the constant pain of being hunted.

His hand unconsciously traveled to top of his head, pulling the hoodie that Emma had lent over to him farther over his face as he tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn't easy when the hallway was completely crowded by nosy students, but he did his best. That’s all he could really do.

Emma and Marie (as he found her name to be) were by his side, protecting him for the skewing eyes of others. For the most part it worked, except it drawn more attention to her due to that odd system that Emma had acknowledged him about. A rating, whatever that was.

It was cool to know that his brother had been ranked number one, though.

If Luke was still… No, don’t think about it, Sam.

He shook his head, ridding himself of that train of thought. There was no point in dwelling on the past, and thinking about his brother wouldn’t change anything. He was gone, and Sam was left alone.

His thoughts were interrupted by Jordan, who he was still slightly confused about. He? She? They? They seemed to have been good friends with his brother and they were friendly enough, so Sam didn’t really question the matter too much.

Plus, he kinda enjoyed the subtle sarcasm that Jordan would once in a while use. It made him feel like a kid back in school. So for that, Sam was thankful.

“Dude, this has got to be the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Jordan had said, turning to the guy walking besides them… Andre. Sam didn’t know what to make of him, or anyone really. He had always been so closed off from other people, that now it was almost a bit overwhelming.

But at least he had Emma, so he didn't have to worry about the social aspect too much.

Andre gave Jordan a sideways look, a small smirk on his face. He seemed pretty chill too.

“Listen, I don’t like this anymore than you do, Jordan,” Andre stated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But with everything happening, and with Cate… this is our best option.”

“Yes, let’s bring the kid with a bounty over his head into the place where they’re all going to be looking for him. Great idea, Andre. Seriously, how did I not think of it first. Soooo smart of you, dude. Good job. I'm so glad we're friends, really I am.”

Jordan rolled their eyes, and Andre just looked away in annoyance. Then, to Sam’s dismay, an awkward silence fell over the group. Once again, Sam was struck by just how different his life was now. It was like he was suddenly thrown into another world, and he had no idea how to function in it. He was so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn’t even see the zone.

Sam glanced over to Emma, and saw her smiling encouragingly at him. He tried his best to return the gesture, but he felt like his face muscles were going to fall off if he forced them any longer.

After what seemed like hours, but really only a couple minutes, Andre halted in front of a random dorm room door, and turned to face the group. He sighed, his face set into a look of grim determination. Then, he knocked.

Three times, Sam counted. Three knocks.

The door opened almost immediately after, and the man who answered had to be the most handsome human being Sam had ever seen. He had short black hair, a sharp jaw, and a dazzling smile. It was actually kind of intimidating.

“Whadda’ want?” the man asked, his voice a rich baritone. Sam didn't know why, but it felt like the man was judging him. His eyes scanned over the group, lingering on Sam for just a second, before returning back to Andre.

Andre cleared his throat, a bit nervously, but he didn’t get a chance to speak as Jordan scoffed, shoving past the man and into the room. Emma followed, giving the man an apologetic look as she did. And thus, everyone followed, leaving the man alone and bewildered in the doorway.

Once everyone was settled inside, the man shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Andre, his eyes burning holes through his head, but Sam didn’t pay any attention towards him anymore. All his eyes were on the strange girl in front of him, you.

You were sitting on the floor, legs crossed and a bored expression on your face. Your eyes were half lidded, and you seemed to be lost in your own little world. Andre had mentioned you, a little. Said that you were the person he had called earlier, that you would help them figure out what to do with Sam, and that you knew and could a lot of stuff. But he had never told them how gorgeous you were.

Your hair was down, and looked so soft that Sam just wanted to touch it, run his fingers through it, and feel the texture. You had a cute little button nose, and a round, chubby face that was just too adorable. And your eyes were so expressive, a mixture of colors that swirled and shone and sparkled in the light.

Andre had called your attention and you snapped out of it, blinking a few times before glancing up at him. It was then that you noticed the others, and you stared at them all, wide eyed and open mouthed, but that was quickly replaced with a smile.

“Hi, Andre! Wow, you must be Jordan… Marie… and Emma? Right? Oh, and you must be the kid Andre talked about, oh my gosh. It's so nice to finally meet you all. Sorry I didn’t say anything when you came in, I was just finishing up this thing for Kota. Oh, Kota! You're still here… hi. Wait, why are you all here? You weren’t supposed to be here until 2:00, and it's only-”

You looked down at the watch on your wrist, your eyes widening even more when you realized the time. You had been talking so fast that no one had been able to get a word in edgewise, but you had managed to finish what you had to say, and it was all so rushed that it was hard to keep up.

The only thing Sam could focus on was how despite all of that rambling and mumbling, you were still keeping that bright smile that never seemed to falter. A truly happy supe? He never thought it would exist. Even Emma, as sweet and pretty as she was, tended to falsify the smiles she had. Sam only saw her real one about three times. He cherished them, of course. Every single one.

You stood up, brushing yourself off and fixing your clothes, and walked over to them. Your hand was outstretched, and your smile was radiant. Sam could practically feel the happiness radiating off of you.

You looked so innocent, so sweet and pure. He could hardly believe that you were a supe, but the fact that they were all standing here said otherwise. You had power, and you knew how to use it.

Jordan and Marie seemed to have recovered from their daze, and the two shook your hand after Andre. Marie had even introduced herself, and it ended with you in giggles, telling her that you already had known her name.

Emma was next, and she had taken your hand immediately and shook it.

Then it was just him that was left.

He stood frozen, staring down at your outstretched hand. He could feel all the eyes in the room on him, and he just knew that his hood was starting to slip.

His instincts were yelling at him, screaming at him to run. To get out of there and stay far, far away from you. From everyone.

But he couldn’t.

So, instead of fleeing, he slowly, cautiously took your hand in his. It was small, warm, and fit perfectly.

You smiled again but this time it was strictly for him, because of him, and it made his heart beat just a bit faster.

He didn’t even realize it until your smile has widened, but he had pulled down his hood, letting you see his face. He didn't understand why he did, and a part of him wanted to pull the fabric right back over his face, but it was too late now.

The damage had been done.

Sam didn’t have a chance to scrape off the dried blood off his cheeks, another result of an accidental outburst, and he could feel your eyes rake over his face, taking in every single detail.

But it wasn’t judgmental, or critical.

No, there was something else in those swirling eyes of yours, and it was then that he noticed the little flecks of gold hidden in the sea of color.

Sam was a bit embarrassed, to say the least, and he tried to pull his hand away but your grip only tightened, and he didn't have the strength to resist. He felt your hand go up his arm, unraveling the hoodie that clung to him like a second skin.

The others didn’t seem to do anything as you pulled the material above his elbow.

Your eyes roamed over the scar that stretched across his forearm, and he knew what was coming before the words even left your mouth.

Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at you as you asked the dreaded question, and his eyes were glued to the floor.

It was Emma who answered, her voice barely a whisper.

Sam despised the pity in your tone. The last thing he wanted was to be pitied. He didn't need or want anyone's pity. He was fine. Everything was fine.

The silence shattered as you took a sharp breath, but Sam couldn't bring himself to look at you. Not when he knew the look of pity in your eyes.

You released his arm, the hoodie dropping to the ground, but Sam didn't even register it. He stood there, frozen, as you slowly reached out your hand towards his face.

"Before I do anything, I want to warn you so it doesn't scare you. Is that okay with you? I just... I want to make sure you're alright. But if you don't want me to touch you, I won't. I'll respect your boundaries. Just tell me, okay?"

Sam blinked, his head tilting upwards, his eyes wide with surprise. There was no pity in your eyes. No negativity or degradation. Only a gentle concern and kindness that he had only experienced in these past few days.

Your touch was tender, and he felt a warmth spread across his face. He couldn't bring himself to deny you. So he nodded, and a small smile appeared on your face. It was still a smile, but a different kind. One he had never seen from you before. And once again, that smile was meant just for him.

Suddenly, the lights in the room dimmed, capturing Sam's attention. He hadn't noticed before, but the entire room was filled with interconnected lights, forming a grid-like pattern. They began to glow, pulsating and shifting with each passing moment. The light danced across the walls, creating mesmerizing shapes.

Sam was captivated by the whole process. And then, the lights suddenly stopped, freezing in place. Sam expected them to return to their normal brightness, but they grew brighter and brighter. It was then that he noticed your hands. They were no longer touching him, but rather, they hovered above him, palms facing his face. A peculiar expression settled on your face.

Sam didn't know what it meant, but he didn't have time to wonder because, in an instant, your hands transformed into light. It wasn't like beams shooting out of your palms, but rather, golden particles that flowed around your body and traveled along the lights, intensifying their brightness. Patterns began to form and move.

Sam watched in awe as the shapes transformed into pictures and scenes. The colors melted and shifted together. Light filled the room, washing away the world around him, leaving only the vibrant colors, the images, and your face.

Your face, so close to his. The smile still adorned your lips, and your eyes shone like stars, the brightest things in the room. Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Reluctantly, he admitted that the light was beautiful, just like you.

It was the most extraordinary sight he had ever witnessed. It was as if the sun had exploded, its light spreading across the room. The colors danced along the walls, forming vivid images. Sam saw a field, a house, a family. He saw his old friends. He saw him. His brother, Luke.

Sam's face crumpled, and a sob escaped his throat. Tears blurred his vision, but they were absorbed by the light, vanishing as soon as they fell. You remained a silent observer, watching over him as the colors gradually faded, and the world returned.

The room was as bright as before, but everything was the same. Sam could still see the concern and worry etched on your face. You reached up to wipe away his tears, but this time he flinched back, and the contact never happened. Your hands fell to your sides.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and your lips trembled, trying to hold back your emotions. But a tear escaped, rolling down your cheek. Andre cleared his throat, breaking the spell. Both you and Sam turned to face the others.

They were all watching, expressions of shock and confusion on their faces, except for Jordan, who wore a mask of indifference.

Andre and Emma stared at you, mouths agape, while Sam saw the tears in your eyes, the fear evident on your face.

Of what, he couldn’t tell. As of right now, there were so many things you could be scared of. With The Woods, being the thing that contains most of it all, It was hard to pinpoint one specific reason.

Then, just like before, Andre's voice cracked as he decided to interrupt Sam’s thoughts.

"What the hell was that?"

[ropes3amthoughts]

OUGH KABRU 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I LOBE HIM SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭 HE CATES SO MUCH ABOIT OTHER PEOPPLE BUT HE DOESNT CARE ABOUT HIMSELF AND HE DOESNT CARE IF HE DIES AND HE THINKS SO LITTLE OF HIMSELF AND HE DOESNT CARE ABOUT HIMSELF AND HE THINKS HIS ONLY OURPOSE IS TO ACT AS A TOOL TO PREVENT A LIKE UTAYA FROM HAPPENING AGAIN 😭😭😭 AND HES. A DORK TOO 😭😭😭😭 OUGH IK GONNA BE SO SICK KM COUBID AGH KABRU 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 KABRUUUUUUUUU 😭😭😭😭😭 HIS HEART IF SULL OF LOVE 😭😭😭 LOVE AND PEACE 😭😭😭 KANRU 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 OUGHHJJJJ KABRU 😭😭😭😭 *NOT CRAZY TOTALLY NORMAL AND SANE VOICE* HEY GUYS ASK ME TO TALK ABOUT KABRU 🙂 THEFE IS MH NORMAL FACE READY TO TALK ABOUT GIM 🙂 KABRJJJHHHH HES I LOVE HOM 😭😭😭😭😭 SUCH A SQEET GUY I LOBE HOME SO MUCHHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THE POCTURES ARE ALL OIT OF ORDER AND A MESS BUT IDGAF THIS IS KABRU KABRU 😭😭😭😭 IM HOMOSEXUAL KABRU I LOBE YOI 😭😭😭 HEY GIUS TIME FOR MY TOTALT NTOMALU KABRU POST LMAO HERE IT GOES 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 KABRU MAKES ME SO SICK HE HAS INSOMNIA AND HE DRINKS ALCHOHOL TO HELP WITH IT YOU STUPIF ODIIOT MAN 😭😭😭😭😭😭 THATS JOT TRJE HES ACTUALLY SO SMART HEARTTTTTT OUGH KABRU 😭😭😭😭 HES SO GOOD AT COMING UP WOTH PLANS AND THINKING GAST HES SOKKOOOOOK SMART WOWZA AND HES SO SWEET 😭😭😭😭😭 IF I WAS DROWNING IN A RIVER I THKNK HE WOULD FISH ME OUT. AND SAVE ME. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 SWEET RHANG WHO CARE ABOUT PEOPLE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 IM SO SICK OBER THE FACT HE STILL ISNT OVER HIS TRAUMA BUT HE REGULARLY GOES INTO THE DUNGEON AND FACES HIS TRAUMA BECAUSE HE WANTS TO CONSQUER THE DUNGEKN BECAUSE HE WANTS TO PREVENT SOEMRHIJT LIKE UYAYA FROM HAPPENING LIKE MAN YOU ARE OUSHING TOURSELF SK MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 WHY HASNT HE HAD A PRIPER LAMB SYEW😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 LROBABNLY BECAUSE HES SO BUDY TRYING TO LOOK OUT FOR. OTHERS 😭😭😭😭😭😭 HE DOESNT SPEND ENKUHH TIME KOVING HIMSELF 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 POST CANON COMIC WHERE KABRU FINALLY GETS TO EAT LAMB STEW WHEN 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 KABRU GETTINF A PRIPER EIGHT HOORS OF SLEEP WEHN 😭😭😭😭😭😭 KABRU LOVING HIMSELF QHEN 😭😭😭😭 THINKING ABOIT HOW GUILTY HE FEELS LIKE HE WAS THE KNLY SURVIVOR OF THE YTAYA TRAGEDY SO HE HAS SURVIBORS GUITY AND HE PROBS FEELS RESPONSIBKE FOR HIS MOMS DEATHS ESPECIALLY LIKE SHE HAD A NICE COMFORTABKR HOME BUT SHE HAD TO LEAVE BECAUSE HE WAS BORN WITH BLUE EYES AND SHE HAD TOSTRUGGLE AND RAISE HIM AS A SINGLE MKTHER AND THEN THE YTAYA TRGEDY HAPPENED LIKE SHE WOUKDNG HAVE HAD TO MOVE TO UTYA IF IT WERENT FOR HIM HE PROBABBKH FEELS LIKE ITS ESPECIALLY NIS FAULT AND WHEN HE WAS TELLING MILSIRIL HE THINKS HE IS A MONSTER BECAUSE OF HIS EYES???????? HE WAS SEVEN DAMN YEARS OLDS AND MONSTERS KILLED EVERY SINGLE PERSON HE KNEW AND HE THOUGHT HES A. MONSTER SHUT THE FUCK UP 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭POORTHINH 😭😭😭😭😭 HE PROBABKLH IS NONCHLANT ABOIT DYING BECAUSETHINKS HE DESERVES TK DIE 😭😭😭😭😭 HE FEELS RESPONSIBLE FOR UTAYA AND BE FELT RESPLONSIBLE FOR THE DEMON AND HE DELT RESPONINKR FOR EVERYTHING HE FELT SI GUILTH HE FELT LIKE A MONSTER SBJT UPPPPPPPPP 😭 MY PHONE IS IVERHEATEDING AND MY KEYBAORD IS CRASHING ANR MY RANT GOT DLEETED GWIVE TUMBLR IS TRHING TO SILENCE ME. J CANNOT B SILENVED I AM NO NORMAL ABOUT KABRU AND I NEVEE WILL BE I LKBE HIM SO MUCH WHAT A GREAT CHATACTER KABRU THEY COILD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU KABRU I LOVE YOU KABRU KABRU KBRU LOBE YOU HE JS DESR TO MY HESRT MU BELOEBD IM NOT HIS BIGGEST FAN BUT I THINK I WOUKD BE TOP 10000 I LOBE HIM ANS J CAR HIM 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭GYS POST MLRE KABRH PLEASE EEE 😇 WAITER WAITER MORE KABRU PLEASE :3 BOY ARE YOU UH ARE YOU A SANDIEXH BC UH UH IDK AXTYALLY I WANT O EAT A SANDWICH RN IM HUNGRY I FORGOT LINCH WHOOPS BUT I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN KABRU 🔥 I WILL EAG A MWAL SO I HAVE RHE NERGU ETO LOOK AG PICYURES OF KABU 🔥 HELL YEAH 🔥 KABRU 🔥 KABRU MY GORGEOUS HANDOMS 🔥 IF I XOULD PAINT I WOULD PAINT HIM 🔥 CHOKES AND DIES 🔥 IHNORE THAG 🔥 KABRH 🔥 I COULD MAKE AN INTELLGIENT AND WELL THKIHHT OIT RANT ABOUT HIM BUT THIS IS EASIER THIS IS MY TRUE UNFIKTERED FEELINBS THESE ARE SCANS FRKM MH BRAJNA 🔥 KABRU 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[a-simple-imagine]

Nothing But Cowards

Requested by anonymous: “I was wondering if you could just write about, having a fight and then make up, fluff and angst? If not that’s totally fine”

“I'd like to request a Jordan Li x fem reader where they're dating in secret from the friend group because of everything going down but one morning they oversleep and one of their friends find them curled up in bed together and it's followed by giggles and fluff?”

Pairing: Jordan Li x fem!reader

words: 3.7k+

WARNINGS - mentions of weird hospitals and tortured kids, strong language

GodU had always been your parents' dream. they held such high and heavy hopes for you. their perfect little superhero. a future member of the seven. when you were younger, you hated the idea. you felt... exploited. they forced this life onto you. gave you compound V and for what? so you could become some clog in a corporate machine? help sell merchandise for Vought? but as you got older and realised that you were kinda stuck with your powers, you felt more obligated to follow through with their dream. to actually be a hero. so you applied for Godolkin University. got in. and became a crime-fighting major. that is how you met Jordan Li. They were much stronger than you would ever be. both physically and mentally. the ability to shift between two forms gave them two separate skill sets all wrapped up in one identity. and they were so confident in their identity. not always a boy. not always a girl. just so confidently themselves. and you admired them so much. They were truly the strongest person you knew or at least you thought so.

it was a weird moment shrouded in the darkness of night. you were shaking a little from rage or the cold, you couldn't quite tell. everything was so incredibly fucked. Marie's roommate had gone missing because of some stupid plan of Andre's imagining. you just found out that there was some weird hospital under the school that was experimenting on people; including Sam, Luke's brother who was apparently still alive and in fact did not commit suicide. not to mention Luke was still gone. he used to give some great advice. used to kick your ass in sparring sessions but would occasionally let you win just to keep you on your toes. he was your friend. and you missed him a lot. you could never understand what happened; or why it happened. All these mysteries were piling up like old comic books. so many chapters to one confusing story that if you missed a single issue it became almost impossible to follow. this was impossible to follow. everyone was arguing. people were taking sides. Marie wanted to find Emma, who had infiltrated the woods, to help Andre who was trying to save the kids trapped down there. Jordan was more pissed about rankings than tortured kids. Cate wanted everyone to just back up and not do anything reckless. you wanted to yell at them. you knew rankings were important to Jordan. they wanted to be the best. at least Cate was worried about not dying. your parents' words hang heavy on your shoulders. this was your chance to do some good. to live up to their dreams without becoming just another vought puppet.

"don't you want to be a hero?" your voice is loud. louder than expected. the question was mainly aimed at Jordan. the person who went toe to toe with Golden Boy just to protect Marie; someone they hardly even knew at that point. that was after the club. you wish you could say you don't think about that night. everyone else seemed to just move on but it haunts your dreams. it's a cloudy memory of white powder and thick red liquid. "we almost killed someone."

there is a brief flash of something. Regret, maybe? before the expression turns dark and defensive. "we didn't do shit." and that was partly the problem. you didn't hold the weapon but you still ran. you left a woman to bleed out because you were too high. even sober, you wouldn't have been able to do much but you could have done something. anything. Nobody likes to talk about that day. the same way nobody talks about what went down with Luke. or how, if they had their way, nobody would talk about this weird hospital. If Cate and Jordan got their way, you'd just go back to school where all that mattered was who held that number one spot. currently andre. not Jordan.

"Exactly which is worse, if it wasn't for Marie we would have all been royally fucked." you articulate. irritation bubbling deep in your chest. "we can do some good here- we can help people."

"you're just gonna get yourself killed"

"at least I'm not running away again," you say. Jordan can make all the scooby doo references she wants but you wouldn't entertain the thought of leaving this down to Marie once again. "you wanna know why Andre is number one instead of you?"

"politics."

"because he is the only one person here who is trying to do something." You growl. "you're just a selfish asshole." if all they cared about was their ranking then you had to explain it in terms they'd understand. Their jaw tenses.

"Okay so what does that make you?" they spit. a particular venom dripping from their tone. "I've helped people- actually saved people. can you say the same?" they ask. "you're basically scared of your own shadow."

"Jordan don't."

"no," they interrupt Cate before she can continue. "I may be selfish for not wanting to go on some stupid suicide mission but when you realise what's really at stake here, don't come crying to me." Jordan's words hang heavy in the air, how do you even reply to that? your mouth opens but nothing comes out so you just walk away. Leaving your friends to continue arguing. 

a bitter flavour lingers in your mouth. a painful feeling concealed deep inside your chest. you can't control how others perceive you but is that really how Jordan sees you? some coward who ran to them whenever things got tough? maybe they were right. you were no hero. you may have superpowers. you may spend hours studying techniques and training in the gym but that's just school. it didn't mean anything. You had never saved the day. you had never actually done anything. you haven't spoken to Jordan. Not since that night. they had texted a few times but you haven't even opened them. you don't want anything to do with them right now but you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss them. you missed them a lot. nobody knew about your situation with Jordan. you had both decided to keep it on the down low while you figured stuff out. and with everything going on, it had just never been the right time.

a knock at the door. you don't bother getting out of the bed you had been rotting in for hours; staring up at the ceiling as the sun went down and darkness enveloped the room. another knock. you bury yourself deeper in your duvet but the knocking doesn't stop. it just gets louder. a loud groan as you roll out of bed. your roommate was always forgetting their key but when the door opens, your stomach sinks. it wasn't your roommate. you instantly close the door.

"Seriously,"

"fuck off," you yell back. they knock again. yanking open the door, you spy Jordan Li once again. femme. sweaty. gym gear. duffel bag hanging off their shoulder. "fuck off," you push on the door again but they slap their hand against it.

"Just give me a chance," they probably just wanted to yell at you some more and you weren't in the mood. you shove harder. "I could stand here all night." your brow creases. Jordan probably would too. they're very persistent. with a heavy sigh, you relinquish pressure on the door and it swings open as they let themselves in.

"what do you want?" your eyes follow her as she drops the gym bag down and begins wandering around your room. they had been here before. They knew what it looked like. their hand slides over the wood of your desk. they pick up the open book, presumably glancing over the content before dropping it back down. "Jordan."

"hm," they look at you almost perplexed. like they had been lost in their own little world.

"what do you want?" you request more firmly. they just stared back like it was a crazy thing to be asking. they drop back to lean against your desk. you're waiting for them to say something. anything. but their gaze just falls to the floor. you sigh softly, still loitering by the door. you would leave if this wasn't your room. "why are you here, Jordan?"

"I wanted to see you," their shoulders rise and fall. "everything is so fucked up. a hospital under the school like what the fuck?"

a secret hospital under the school was very messed up. you can't even imagine the things they get up to down there. also, Luke's brother was down there. that's why Emma went down in the first place before she disappeared. "yeah," you nod a little. "I guess."

"And Luke's brother being alive this whole time?" you wonder where this is going. you knew all this. you were there when everyone was arguing. your brow furrows a little.

"Can you get to the point?"

"well it's a little fucked isn't it?"

"You're being weird," you state. monitoring them carefully. they still wouldn't look at you but they did push up from the desk and towards the mini fridge.

"you got anything to drink?" they question, pulling it open.

"Jordan. leave."

"What?" they ask, still looking in your mostly empty little fridge.

"I said leave," you declare firmly. "I would like you to leave."

"why?"

"you know why." they sighed loudly, thrusting the fridge closed with a loud slap. "you don't get to just pretend nothing happened."

"I don't know why you're angry, you're the one who called me selfish." Jordan insists. "Said Andre was better than me."

"You are selfish. All you care about is your stupid ranking."

"It's not stupid," Jordan fires back. "It is important if I wanna get somewhere,"

"Who fucking cares," you groan "Like I get it, you wanna be a hero but this is way bigger than all that."

"And what are you gonna do exactly?" there's a bite behind her words. She's getting defensive. "Whats your plan to save the day Superman?"

"I don't..." you snap before trailing off to a much quieter tone. "know exactly,”

"It's a death wish,"

"We have to do something.”

“no, we don’t.” Jordan replies. “we don’t have to do anything. This is way above our pay grade.”

“of course, you’d say that,” you groan loudly. “can you leave now.”

"I-" They seem like they're about to bite back but they stop short. a tense jaw. they let it go. "I miss you, okay."

"I don't care," you did care. "leave." you yank open the door. For a beat, they seem taken aback but it rapidly fades. "now."

"just hear me out."

"no Jordan," you huff. "just go. I'm not arguing with you anymore."

they watch you for a second. "I don't want to argue" they clarify. "please?” there’s an unusual desperation in their voice. one you’ve never heard before. it builds a degree of sympathy amongst your anger. you let the door fall closed with a click.

“fine," you cross your arms over your chest "What do you want?"

"you were right," she declares softly. the statement alone takes you by surprise. Jordan? admitting she was wrong? you'd comically gasp if you weren't annoyed with them.

"I don't understand."

"I said you were right."

"No, I heard you," you explain. "look, Jordan-"

"I'm sorry, okay?" they reply sharply "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"why are you making this so difficult?" Jordan asks. "I've apologised so can we just watch a movie or something?" you raise a curious brow. Surely they weren't naive enough to believe you would simply forgive them just like that? There was more to this story that they were avoiding.

"you can't be fucking serious," a humourless laugh. "you don't even really mean it."

"I do though."

"no you don't," you sigh. walking towards them. "look at me and apologise- apologise properly."

"Ugh, I already apologised," they groan loudly, pairing it with a roll of their eyes. It just annoys you even more. "why can't you just forgive me?"

"Because you don't even know why you're apologising," you stress. "it's half-baked. you don't mean it. and I'm tired so-”

"I'm fucking scared" they blurt out. "I'm scared."

A look of surprise; shock. Their very loud confession caught you off guard. Jordan Li wasn't scared of anything. They’d made that bold claim a great many times. "of what?"

"of losing you," they yell back; their hands come up to run slowly over their face. Their hair becomes shorter. They physically grow taller. Shielded by his fingertips, it's pretty apparent that he shouldn't have said that or at least hadn't meant to. You don't know what to say; your head tilts slightly to one side. how do you respond to that? it still wasn't technically an apology. "for fuck sake."

"of losing me?" you recite slowly. "why would you lose me?"

"Because you're an idiot," they urge. "who wants to help people."

"dude."

"Sorry but like it's true. you're a fucking idiot," they repeat. "and I admire that."

"I'm... confused," you mumble softly.

"I admire how much you wanna help people despite knowing it’s stupid and you're probably gonna die" You can't tell if Jordan is just oblivious to what he was saying but it was far from getting him back in your good graces. "I wish I could be like that. naive enough to think I can make a difference."

"I feel like you're just insulting me," you comment.

they shrug a little. "I know this is still kinda new, the whole me and you thing but…” you can tell this is hard for them. expressing their feelings was not their strong suit. Their head hangs low. “it doesn’t matter,” they walk towards you but instead veer off towards their bag. you reach out for them; taking their hand. they were running hot, a sweaty hand.

“you can tell me,” you express, a gentle squeeze. “we’ve been friends for ages…”

“you’re just gonna call me selfish again.” their voice a whisper but they make no effort to pull away. You step closer.

“then you’ve got nothing to lose, right?” it’s a joke. a harmless one but they don’t laugh or even acknowledge it.

“I… I just don’t want you dying before we get a chance to really explore whatever this,” they use their free hand to motion between you. “is. so yeah, I lashed out because I like you or whatever and want you alive. sorry.” you watch them for a moment. their inability to meet your gaze. the light dusting of pink that graced their cheeks. it was really sweet if not a little unexpected. Jordan was so cool most of the time. it was a rarity to see them express such emotions. it makes you smile. you just laugh a little in amusement.

"Jordan," you say warmly. "you're not gonna lose me," you step even closer, reaching for their other hand; running your thumb over their knuckles. "I understand what you're saying but I don't think it's reason enough not to help,"

"I know," the express softly, finally meeting your gaze. there is something unspoken behind those eyes but you choose not to push. “I wish it was.”

you keep your eyes on there’s taking in this tender moment. a moment of vulnerability. a moment of connection. you relish in the way their hands fit so comfortably in yours. you really liked Jordan. liked their attitude. admired their strength. wished for their sense of loyalty. you were so smitten. so lucky to be their chosen person. a smile settles before you slowly lean in. It catches them off guard but they soon settle into it. “I’m scared too,” whispered against their lips. "but I think the bravest thing we can do is try anyway.“ his eyes flutter closed, letting his forehead fall against yours.

"I didn't mean it when I called you a coward," Jordan whispers, his eyes open. Lingering on yours. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

"I am a coward," you express. "I've always wanted to be a hero. it's all my parents want. but I'm scared. terrified. I never could have fought Luke like you did. but I wanna try now. I want you to try too," you ghost their lips. It's subtle; intimate. "if you really wanna protect me, Jordan, you'd help because I'm doing this with or without you."

"do I have to decide right now?" they ask quietly. You're almost disappointed by their reply but you can't really blame them. This wasn't another student hero gone rogue. This was a whole institution willing to do anything to keep its secrets. "do you forgive me?"

"do you forgive me?"

"I was never mad at you,"

"I was mad at you." you declare.

"I know," they nod. "you weren't exactly subtle about it." their expression becomes playful and bright; a strong contrast from the conversation you were just having. You can't help but smile as you pull back.

"do you wanna stay over tonight?" there's a shift in the air. all that tension fading away. you're not mad. you're not thrilled either. but you liked Jordan. a lot. and you could understand their desire to protect you. In a way, it was very sweet. You didn't realise how much they liked you. "we could watch that movie? or Property Brothers? whatever you want."

"Whatever I want, huh?" their hands vacate yours and instead move to your hips. Pulling you close. ever so close. pressing their body ever so slightly into yours "Anything at all?" masc! Jordan was taller than their male counterpart but far less intimidating. firmer. gentler. it’s a rather present contrast.

"you're such a perv,"

"you don't even know what I was gonna say," they insist.

"Anyone with half a brain could figure it out," you tease. their hands slip around to the small of your back pulling you flush against them. playing into your words. "but what Jordan wants. Jordan gets." whispered in their ear, you place a gentle kiss upon their cheek. "right?"

you can feel them practically shudder against you. A heavy sigh left their lips. "oh she wants to play tonight?" all signs of sincerity washed away by something darker. desire. you meet their eyes, lips quirk up into a smirk before they lean in once more. it’s ever so light but you’re quick to deepen the kiss; chasing that warmth that spills through your veins but they pull away instead. mischief laces their expression. their fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. they pull back just enough to murmur, “I’m gonna make you beg for it,” their words hot against your ear. A shiver spills down your spine as you lean into them; wanting to be closer. As close as possible as they guide you back towards your bed.

it's safe to say you're smitten with the infamous Jordan Li. and when it comes down to it you're delighted when you're together. they bring out a more mischievous side of you. and you like to think you bring out a more vulnerable side of them. You shuffle further into their embrace. Basking in the feeling of their arms around you as you hide from the rising sun peeking through the blinds. A content hum as you drift in and out of consciousness. Still so early. You feel them lean more into you.

"what the fuck," a voice drags you to the land of the living. And as your tired eyes flutter open, your friends stare back. Both you and Jordan shoot up, instantly breaking any contact. Pulling the covers up to hide the fact you were both very naked. Marie stands at the end of your bed; wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth. Cate and Andre are just by the door. how the fuck did they even get in? "we should- sorry," you watch Marie scramble for the door shoving Andre out just as Cate yanks him.

you both fall back down in unison. If anyone had seen it would almost seem planned. After a moment, you roll back into them. giggling into the crook of their neck. after a moment you nip the skin. "guess we're not a secret anymore," muttered against their skin.

"This isn't funny."

"it kinda is," you shrug "Quite the shock for those three." A giggle before you sink your teeth into her neck earning yourself a satisfied sigh but they're quick to push you away. A stern look on their face

"you agreed it was best we didn't tell everyone until all this craziness was over."

"yeah but don't you feel just a little relieved," you ask. You can practically see the gears turning in their head. It's... Cute. You move so that you're now straddling them, hands drifting delicately over their chest. Their skin is so warm; and soft. Their short bob is a mess against your pillow. they looked so peaceful. so beautiful. A strip of yellow sunlight reflected off their chain. "I'm glad everyone knows now. plus," you smile mischievously. "now I can kiss you whenever I want. " You lean down slowly and place your lips against hers. "and that's all I want," mumbled against their lip.

"I guess it is one less thing to worry about," they muse, bringing their hands up to rest against your hips. her fingers apply just a little bit of pressure. you peck their lips once more before pulling away. a gentle tap on their nose, their face scrunches up.

"you shift in your sleep sometimes did you know that?"

"What?"

"you were definitely a guy when we fell asleep and then suddenly I'm snuggling up to a girl? is it like a conscious choice or?" they hesitate for a moment before playfully shoving you off them.

"shut up,"

"ow!!" you groan dramatically, falling down against the bed. "ow. that hurt so much. I'm in so much pain. how could you be so mean," you groan loudly, shuffling about a little for dramatic effect.

"you’re so dramatic,” Jordan rolls their eyes but a mischievous grin spreads over their lips. “now get up we’re gonna be late.”

“for what?”

“class.” they sit up. a hand coming to settle on your stomach. you don’t move. and neither do they. and in those few seconds, everything feels at peace. “you really are beautiful,” they eventually say before finally getting out of bed.

[h0nkch0c0late]

Oh my goodness finally someone who wants to write for Gen v 😛😛 I was wondering If you could write about a really clingy reader ? Like when they went to that party in the first ep, and the reader was just clinging onto Jordan

YES ABSOLUTELY OH MY GOD. Also, apologies if this is a little skewed I've only watched episode 1 like once so far and only remember a few things AAAA.

Clingy

Jordan Li x Reader

SUMMARY: you were never one for parties, and Jordan knew that well. When you agreed to go with her this time, though, she wasn't at all surprised when you clung to them the entire night.

WARNINGS: Gen V spoilers, swearing, major fluff, drugs

----------------------------------------------------------

When it came to parties, you would rather stay in your dorm room and read a book. Which was ironic, since your partner and their friends did it on a nightly basis.

But when you had heard from Andre that he invited Marie Moreau (one of the newest freshmen to join Godolkin), you decided, "why not?" As it was a good chance to meet the girl.

So, when you found yourself in Jordan's room like usual, with her arm wrapped around your waist, body pulled close, you decided to drop what you thought was surprising news.

"I think I wanna go to tonight's party." You said, turning your head to look at them.

Jordan smirked, eyebrows furrowing together in curiosity, "oh really? Didn't take you as the party type."

You rolled your eyes, nudging her in playful annoyance as you yanked her arm off of your waist.

"Hey!" They wined, putting their arm back around but you didn't protest, only huffing at them to ensure that you were upset at their reaction (you weren't).

"I thought you'd be more surprised." You sighed, turning your body towards them as you looked down. She chuckled lightly, sitting up with you but keeping her arm around your waist.

"Why would i be surprised? You're practically attached to my hip like, all the time." She snickered.

"Yeah, but never at the parties." You shrug.

"That's because you hate people. And the whole drug thing." They pointed out with a small laugh.

"Okay, well, I'm still going."

"Good."

"Great!"

----------------------------------------------------------

As you made your way to the top of the Seven tower, you made sure to stick to Jordan's side the entire time.

And of course, Cate, Andre, and Jordan went straight for the things that get you high as fuck, snorting it right up their nostrils.

And look, it's not that you didn't WANT to do that stuff with them, it's just that you couldn't.

Here comes the irony again with the fact that your parents pumped you full of a drug when you were a baby, but whatever.

As you clung to Jordan's side, with their arm wrapped tightly around your waist as they laughed along with their friends, you watched Luke as he made his way over to Marie.

She was a nice girl, as far as you could tell. The two of you had exchanged hi's and names, a bright smile on the girl's face the entire time. You would have talked with her more had she stayed with the group, but you understood.

Your head laid against your partner's shoulder as you sighed, knowing that this was only the beginning of the party.

---------------------------------------------------------

...and you were correct!

Soon enough the six of you had entered a club, Cate taking one of her gloves off and using her powers of persuasion against the host guy that had asked for a reservation from them (to which they did not have).

Looking back at Marie as you gor dragged along by Jordan, you could see the amazement on her face at Cate's actions.

"Dont worry, you're gonna see that more often, and soon enough it won't be as impressive." You joked, saying it loud enough for Cate to hear through the crowd.

She turned around, her eyebrows furrowed, "Hey, I heard that!" She grinned.

You nodded, "you were supposed to, Cate." You chuckled, causing the rest of the group to erupt in a wave of chuckles as well as you were led to a table.

As you all sat down, Marie took notice of your clinginess with Jordan, "Is she always attached to you like that?" She asked them as Andre took out a small baggy of molly, Jordan immediately snatching it from his hands as he grinned.

Cate answered the question for Jordan, "yes, yes she is. She won't admit it but one second away from Jordan, and she is WORRIED. She's clingy because she has attachment issues." She smirked.

You rolled your eyes, "I do not have attachment issues, Cate. I just hate being without her for too long. It's called being clingy." You respond snarkily as you pressed closer to them.

Marie held in her laugh as she noticed the baggy, "is that cocaine?" She asked.

"We finished all the coke," Jordan began as he opened up the baggy, "this is molly."

"Hey, I don't really fuck with powders, but.." Luke pulls out a baggy from his pocket, waving it at Marie, "I do microdose shrooms."

"So, what do ya say, freshman?" Jordan smirks, their arm moving to their girlfriend's shoulder as Andre waves the baggy of molly at Marie.

Marie looks around at all of them, you seeming to be the only one other than her not interested in the drugs, "Uh...no thank you."

After some persuasion from Cate, and a little nod of reassurance from you, Marie took the jump and took some of the molly, the group cheering as she does.

"Cmon, let's dance!" Cate exclaims as she drags Marie off to the dance floor, leaving the other three at the table.

"See? I told you." Andre said, looking towards the couple beside him.

"Yeah, super nice." You smiled, picking up Jordan's drink and taking a sip from it.

You weren't much for alcohol, but you thought that tonight was special enough.

--------------------------------------------------------

You and Jordan had split from the two boys for a bit, coming back from wherever you had gone and nodding at people that you passed by.

You clung to Jordan's arm, and just as the two of you passed the doorway back to the main room, Jordan felt comfortable enough to change.

"Oh, my girl's back~" you purred jokingly, "oh, how I missed you~"

Jordan rolled her eyes at you and laughed lightly, "you're so lucky I love you."

You smiled at them, "oh, boy do i know it."

As you joined the boys back at the table, you were now accompanied by two more trays of drinks (courtesy of you and Jordan).

"There she is." Luke greeted as the two sat down.

"You changed. Why?" Andre questioned.

"Because I fucking felt like it." Jordan responded as they felt you snuggle into their side, and you tuned out the rest of their conversation.

----------------------------------------------------------

Eventually your group had split up, the drugs and alcohol finally taking into affect.

Luke was somewhere near the bathrooms, Cate and Marie were still enjoying themselves on the dance floor, and Andre had endulged himself with the flirting activity at the bar area.

Jordan had somehow convinced you to join her on the dance floor, the two of you absolutely not following the beat as you slow danced to the club songs.

Your enjoyment was ended when screams erupted from the bar area, and suddenly you found yourself getting dragged out of the club by Jordan, Luke, Andre, and Cate joining you both.

As you passed the bar area you had noticed the woman bleeding to death on the ground, and Marie standing there.

You tried to call her name, to get her to follow you and the rest of the group, but your calls were drowned out by the rest of the crowd.

Who knew the day you decided to be extra clingy would end up a very messy and bloody night.

----------------------------------------------------------

RAAAGGEEEE THE FIRST DRAFT DIDNT SAVE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

the ending is a little different and a bit quicker than I had planned and I am so sorry for that but I hope you enjoyed <33333

And yes I did in fact lie when I said I didn't have access to prime video I'm just a little stupid Ok.

[funkycoloured]

NEW BOTS!! notes: HIHIIII. i'm really excited about this drop ehehehhe. victoria is my wife i would literally do anything for her and JORDAN LI OMG they can get it any day, any time, any place. 🛐🛐🛐 i hate kids and pregnancy/birth terrifies me but i would literally have 15 of ben's kids if he asked. might make some more gen v bots (probably just more jordan ones and maybe cate dunlap) i'm pretty sure all of these except the soldier boy ones are gender neutral but kinda leaning towards fem... but there's no gendered nicknames etc. ALSO TYSM FOR 500 FOLLOWERS ON C.AI!!

VICTORIA NEUMAN: ❝ pretty little assistant ❞ victoria was aware that this was taboo. having feelings and seeking out a relationship for your assistant was definitely controversial, but she couldn't help herself. you were always so polite and compliant, not to mention the fact that you were one of the most gorgeous people she'd ever laid eyes on. she began dropping tiny little hints in hopes of you catching on. she wanted you.

JORDAN LI: ❝ and they were roommates ❞ jordan knew that getting romantically involved with their roommate was *not* a good idea. you two had to live together for your time at godolkin, so if you were to break up, things would be... awful. but could you blame them? you were one of the first people to truly notice them and see them for who they really were. it wasn't really a surprise when your relationship became official.

SOLDIER BOY: ❝ you're pregnant ❞ (req + fem!user) ben had no idea what was wrong with you. were distancing yourself from him, and pushing him away. in all the time he'd known you, you'd practically been all over him. now it was like you dreaded being around him. maybe it was premature, but he came with the conclusion that you were cheating on him. he had no idea that you were pregnant, and that was why you changed so drastically.

SOLDIER BOY: ❝ celebrity crush ❞ (payback era + fem!user) you were ben's celebrity crush. god, it made him feel pathetic to even admit it to himself, but he couldn't deny it. you were talented and gorgeous. of course he'd have a crush on you. he was damn near ecstatic when he found out you'd be working together on an upcoming movie, though he was definitely confused when you didn't show much interest in him. he was used to women throwing themselves at him, but now it seemed the opposite. he was the obsessed one.

likes + reblogs are appreciated!!

[bumblesimagines]

Jordan Li

fancy running into you here.

do you have a second to talk?

fancy running into you here.

do you have a second to talk?

Pronouns: He/Him/His, Male!Reader

Going on a whim by saying Jordan's parents are fully traditional

You watched your fellow classmates, teachers, and parents mingle around, many of them desperate to make connections with richer folks who could be their stepping ladders into getting more invested in the Supe world. It always made you roll your eyes watching parents desperate to make a buck off their kids as if forcing them to have life-altering abilities hadn't been enough to sedate their greed. You'd long lost your own family in the crowd after having slipped away with the excuse of needing the bathroom. Not many classmates had been as smart as you. 

"Fancy running into you here." A familiar voice chimed from beside you, familiar enough for you to continue looking forward and sigh into the cup of vodka Cate Dunlap had so graciously gotten for you. Jordan slipped their hands out of their pockets and plopped down on the seat beside you, one hand reaching out to grab the glass cup from you and drink as well. Licking their lips, they asked, "Do you have a second to talk?"

"With you?" You turned your head to look at them and reached over to take your cup back. "Nah, I don't think so, Jordan. I'm a little busy at the moment."

Jordan rolled their eyes and leaned their arms against their legs, their eyes flickering over your features. "Doing what, exactly? Avoiding your parents?"

"You'd know a thing or two about that." You muttered, pouring the rest of the contents into your mouth before setting the cup aside and dabbing at your lips with the sleeve of your shirt. Jordan grimaced for a second, their eyes flickering away to search the crowd for the people they called Mom and Dad. 

"(Y/N), I just want to talk-" 

"And I don't, Jordan. There's nothing to talk about."

"There's a lot to talk about." Jordan snapped. "You ghosted me and then I learn from Cate that it's over? What the hell was that about?"

Truthfully, you had been rather... immature about dumping Jordan Li. Sure, instead of ghosting and ignoring them for a week or two and then asking innocent bystander Cate Dunlap to relay a break-up message to someone who had a hint of a bad temper and super strength in their masc form you could've sat with Jordan and spoken like adults, but you'd been left feeling pretty pissed off with them. Pissed off enough that you'd accidentally broken one of the water fountains without meaning to the day before deciding to go ghost. It wasn't completely your fault water naturally reacted to your emotions.

"I did you a favor, Jordan." You told them bitterly, sitting up in your seat. You doubted they'd let you leave so easily, especially with their hawk eyes trained and focused fully on you. 

"By leaving me out of nowhere? You know what's worse than being dumped over text? Someone else telling you that you've been dumped, (Y/N). At least Cate felt bad when she told me. You pretended I didn't even exist!" Jordan huffed, their leg beginning to bounce and their jaw visibly clenching. 

"I should've been doing that from the get-go seeing as you weren't even happy about being with me." You sneered and they blinked, eyes widening and shoulders slumping. Jordan immediately stood up and set their hands on the armrests of your chair, their fingers digging into the soft velvety fabric as they caged you in. 

"You were the first fucking person to accept me. Shit, you- you're the whole reason I even felt comfortable coming out, (Y/N)! First day of school I was shitting a brick and then you had the fucking nerve to look me in the eye and tell me I was pretty. And then you said it again when I showed you my other form. Of course, I was fucking happy with you. You're the only person I don't feel insecure around."

"Should I remind you that you were the one who said I was 'just a classmate' when your parents visited? You didn't even want to call me a friend in front of them!" You reminded them, fingers curling around the collar of their shirt and pushing them back until you could stand. You released them, noticing Dean Shetty making her way over in quick strides. Jordan's face fell completely, their brows lifting slightly at your words. "You don't want to tell your parents you also like guys? Great, take your time. But at least let me know you're going to treat me like a damn stranger when they're around so I know it's not a serious relationship." 

"(Y/N)-"

"There's plenty of people who'll date you and be your little secret, Jordan. I'm not one of them."

[wildpeachfarm]

the whole "if you criticize hannah/sylvee/cate/any woman ever, then youre being misogynistic" just ties into these peoples mindset that if you are part of a marginalized group, you can do no wrong and anyone who dislikes you only criticizes you because of your identity. it's why so many people denied dreams queerness, because to them if youre queer youre automatically "good" and to them dream is a horrible person so of course he cant be queer. its so frustrating to watch and its also why people are always like, "oh your favorite white boys !!!!". because being a man and being white is privilege, and privilege = "bad". (mind you none of them have heard of intersectionality), like im sick of hearing "your favorite white boy", im putting that on the shelf away from twitter users because theyre just using it to deflect criticism under the guise of being progressive and "woke".

ohhh goddddddd intersectionality is so under-discussed in online culture to begin with and mcyt stan culture absolutely erases it in favor of their twitter wars and its so obvious that has trickled into the CCs as well (especially with what i said earlier about rue not wanting to acknowledge dream is a DV victim)

This moral grandstanding that certain people can do no wrong, and if they do wrong then they must not be part of this group, is so fucked up and twisted.

There's a complete cognitive dissonance when people act like this because they want to feel good about THEMSELVES and if they share any quality with someone who has done something wrong then they need to erase that part of the other persons identity to make themselves feel safer and more morally superior in their little bubble. No one wants to feel like they are just as capable of making mistakes as the next person because that means all their hyper-performative actions mean nothing

HUMANS CAN MAKE MISTAKES AND DO BAD THINGS NO MATTER WHO THEY ARE