#this is really all over the place but it's also the longest piece of fic I wrote in a long time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jayke0 · 2 months

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Nicotine Lust

Summary: Your attempts to keep your smoking kink under wraps become futile once you're reassured that your boyfriends’ lungs aren't at stake.

A/N: I couldn't stop thinking about @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction 's smoking Steven, so i wanted to do smth from Jake's perspective ❤️.

Also if you know which tiktok lady Jake’s talking about then bonus points to you!

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: smoking, afab reader!, g/n nicknames, I've never smoked so forgive me if literally all of it is wrong, blowjob, face fucking, ‘fucktoy’ nickname, ‘slut’ nickname, Dom!Jake, Sub!Reader, p in v, unmentioned protection, riding, doggy style, creampie, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 4,020 (yeah… I'm pretty sure this is my longest fic yet.😅)

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily. And Fen ofc ofc.

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You hate to admit it, but when Jake smokes, it's like an automatic switch is clicked in your brain; like you're literally being turned on.

It's wrong, so so wrong. You don't want to be getting turned on by something that is ultimately ruining your boyfriend's lungs, all three of your boyfriends’ lungs.

It's only when you mention it to him one day that he settles your worries.

“The suit heals ‘em.”

“What?? For real?”

“ ‘Course! That's the whole point of it.”

You raise a brow. “It's not for you to heal your black lung.”

“Well no, but it's for healin’, ain't it?” He pulls out his packet of tobacco and places it on the windowsill, along with his papers. His fingers work meticulously as he lays out the paper and lines up the tobacco, sprinkling it onto the paper like he's decorating fucking cupcakes with chocolate sprinkles.

“I thought ya liked it anyway.”

You have to drag your eyes away from the man's hands as he rolls the cylinder between his fingers. “What? No... that's weird.”

Your boyfriend cocks an eyebrow at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Really? So that look that ya give me, or the way ya watch my hands ain't got nothin’ to do with ya gettin’ all hot and bothered?” He brings it to his lips, running his tongue along the edge of the paper in a way that makes your cheeks heat up and your arms fold over your chest defensively.

Jake is easily the best at reading you and your body, especially when it comes to your not-so-subtle arousal.

Your eyes move back to his hand, watching him push the filter into the end with his middle finger before rolling the other end shut.

“No, I just find it interesting. It's good for me to know how to roll a cig… I guess.” Your words trail off as you realize how dumb that sounds; there's no way in hell that Jake lockley is going to believe that lie.

“For who? Ya side piece?” He jokes, the smirk turning into a full-grown grin while he brings the now formed cigarette to his lips. It's only when he flips open his lighter and the flame lights up the end that you come to the conclusion there's no point in hiding it… not now that you know they're safe.

“Alright!... I like it, is that what you wanted?”

“Show me.” His lips are pressed together tightly to keep the cigarette in place, but he's learnt how to talk out of the gap in his lips.

“Excuse me?”

“Show me how much ya like it.” The man's voice is deeper now as he pulls the cigarette from his lips and exhales a cloud of smoke, considerately not blowing it in your direction; and fuck if it doesn't make you squirm.

You want to sink to your knees right there, rip his black jeans from his thick thighs and suck him dry, but your stubbornness stops you. “I'm not some kinda fuck toy, Jake!”

“Ya weren't sayin’ that last night, were ya?” The cigarette meets his lips again and his chest expands as he takes in a long drag, not being as considerate with where he blows it this time.

You irritatedly waft the smoke away from your face, but his gaze, oh lord the way his eyes glare at you, a dark stare that pushes you to your knees anyway as if he has the fucking force. Resting your hands on his knees, you part them slowly, keeping your eyes transfixed on his as you slide your hands up his bulky thighs and over his crotch, all while he takes another drag.

“Good fucktoy.” He says with a playful tone as he pets your head condescendingly, the name and gesture ultimately turning you on more while you toy with his belt buckle to pry his jeans open. “Eager, ain't we? I love it when you're this eager, mi vida.”

The smell of the smoke is starting to sting your nostrils, but all worries of second-hand smoke fade when you pull his boxers down his thighs and reveal his half hard cock. “I'm not the only eager one," you raise a brow at him, taking his hardening length in your hand to hear a soft groan from him.

“Oh c'mon, what guy doesn't love gettin’ his dick sucked? Especially from a slut as pretty as you, cariño.” His thumb runs over your cheek, and then your bottom lip. “Now, open up for me, okay?”

His hand replaces yours as you obediently open your mouth and lean forward, wanting to feel him grow hard in the heat of your mouth. His length is heavy on your tongue, the familiar tang of his skin and pre-cum making you hum softly to send vibrations through his cock, resulting in a pleasured grunt from the man.

“Mmm that's good… good angel…”

The calmness in his voice and the way his shoulders drop indicate that even his trusty old cigarettes can't relax him like you can. You always know exactly what makes him tick, what buttons to press to get him coming down your throat in minutes, but despite that, he continues to take drags from his damn deathstick.

Your eyes are fixated on his lips as he brings it to his mouth again, holding it loosely between his two fingers before inhaling the nicotine. He meets your gaze, a shallow thrust from his impatient hips making you pull back with an annoyed squeal; you're not willing to admit how turned on you also get when they're impatient with you, though you're like 90% sure that Jake has caught on anyway, as usual. A string of drool falls from your lips and lands on his head, spreading down the thick, tanned length before your lips follow.

“Thaaat’s it, just like that, darlin’.” He groans, feeling your lips stretch and the warmth of your mouth envelop him. His fingers caress your hair before his large hand eventually comes to rest on the back of your head; an exciting threat that he could push you down on his girth at any point.

Of course, though, he doesn't. He's more patient and collected than the other two, even when you manage to relax your throat and sink all the way down on him.

“Oooh cariño, that's new. Ya been practicin’?” Jake's back arches off of the window, his cigarette back between his lips so his hand can join the other on the back of your head. You pull off with a pant, nodding proudly, “Steven loved letting me practice on him, did you know he's into throat training?”

Your words warrant a growl from your boyfriend as he tightens his grip on your scalp. “C’mooon, stop teasin’ me,” his lip is cocked up in a scowl as he take another drag from his cig and blows it out.

You don't spend any more time fucking around, your own thighs pressing together just from the situation and sight in front of you. You lower your head on him, but don't take him fully, wrapping your hand around what you can't fit in your mouth so you can start bobbing your head. Your tongue glides over his slit each time you almost pull off, with just your lips wrapped around the blunt tip before you dive back down.

“Fuuuck, that's so good. Shit you're so good at that, mi vida.” His praises go straight to your core, making you speed up your actions.

The man tilts his head back and takes the cig out of his mouth, the end now getting dangerously close to his fingers, but he couldn't care less, all he cares about is the wet heat of your mouth already pushing him closer and closer to his orgasm. He takes one last drag and puts out the butt as it reaches his fingers, taking in a sharp inhale when you deepthroat him again just as it burns his finger tips. “Such a good fucktoy, goddamn angel…”

His groans get louder, your head now bobbing up and down on him rhythmically as you twist your fist around his throbbing length in just the right way.

Hand joining the other, he pushes you down once, then twice. “Just a little more darlin’, ya can do it, I know ya can—,” his pants are heavy, low moans cut off by gasps. “Gonna come down that pretty throat, just a little further, sweetheart.” You feel his hips lift off the window sill and towards your face, the gesture making you choke a bit before you take him fully again, fingernails digging into his plump thighs enough to leave marks as your face scrunches up.

It's only a few more seconds and he's coming down your throat, just as he said he would. You can barely taste the saltiness as he moans loudly, adam's apple bobbing in his throat with his back arched enough to feel his tummy on your forehead. You pull off after a few moments with gasps, your chest rising and falling quickly as you take in the air you'd briefly missed out on.

“Ay cariño… ‘m sorry, are ya ok?” Jake's gaze is still lidded and dopey, though a lot softer now, and you feel his thumb run over your cheek.

“Yes,” you say hoarsely, giggling afterwards at the sound of your voice while you wipe the spit from your chin. “It was hot. I liked it, honey, don't worry.”

He sighs, a smile replacing the worried frown his had on his face just seconds before. “Ah, good, angel,” he leans down and kisses you, not caring about the taste of himself on your lips. “You owe me an orgasm though.” You mumble on his lips, feeling the low chuckle rumble in his chest as he joins you on the floor without even pulling away from your plump lips.

”I can do that, cariño.”

+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+｡+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡

Jake hasn't been out since that morning, and now it's getting to 3 days, and you're worried.

Did your odd little kink freak him out? Maybe the thought that his lover gets off on him damaging his lungs made him uncomfortable.— No, that's not the sexy part, because that WOULD be weird. It's watching him carefully, masterfully, assemble the tobacco. Watching the way he rolls it between his thick digits and runs his tongue over the edge before lighting it. You'd noticed how his eyes close in satisfaction with that first drag, and how his eyelids lower to a more relaxed manner, giving him that deadly lidded gaze that is sure to be the death of you.

The presence creeping up behind you breaks your train of thought, and you sigh contentedly as you feel large, warm hands run over your shoulders tenderly. You drag your eyes away from the tv screen to tilt your head back and look at one of your boyfriends, whichever one it is.

Jake always insisted on growing his facial hair out, but Marc and Steven are so strongly against it that you'd think they have some kind of personal vendetta against it. That being said, it's hard to tell them apart sometimes, especially when you're looking at them upside down.

“Hello, handsome.”

“Hello, angel.”

Blood instantly rushes to your face, and you know Jake notices it, given the way his lips quirk into a grin.

“Took you long enough…” You mumble softly, lifting your head to avoid his burning gaze.

“Ay, I know I know. I ain't really got an excuse.” He gives your shoulder one last pat before moving around to the couch and placing himself down next to you, arm promptly resting on the couch behind your head. “Did ya miss me, though?” His fingers toy with your ear, a gesture that he'd quickly and delightedly learnt annoys you.

Your silence is met by a dark chuckle from the man. “Did ya miss these?” The sound of cardboard rustling grabs your attention, your head slowly turning towards him before your eyes focus on the box of cigarettes in front of you.

“I thought you didn't like ‘pre-rolled bullshit'.” You quote his words with a scoff to hide the excitement already bubbling up inside you.

“I don't, but they come in handy, don't they? ‘Specially if I'm tryna rile ya up again.”

His left leg is crossed over the other in a casual sitting position, body angled towards you invitingly with his arms spread wide enough to make his t-shirt stretch across his toned chest.

“So… you didn't find it weird then?” Voice tentative, you shuffle over to him, having missed his tight bear hugs and calming tone of voice… even if his cockiness does get on your nerves sometimes.

A small frown replaces the grin that almost constantly adorned his face. “No, mi vida, ‘course not.” His hand reaches towards your face, calloused thumb running under your eyes softly. “I'm just as into it as you are, hell, I thought that was obvious.” His low chuckle makes your chest warm and a smile break the pouty look you had plastered across your face, especially when he leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Thank fucking god.”

A deep laugh from your boyfriend only makes your face and body grow warmer, the smile widening before you lean into his lips to place a kiss on them.

“Ya could've spoken to the other two.” He says, hands resting on your waist to pull you closer for a cuddle.

“Didn't wanna worry them.” It's almost remarkable how quickly you melt into their arms, quicker than you have with any other person… ever, really.

Jake's fingers trace your face gently, eyes roaming all over your features and drinking them in as if he hasn't seen you in years. “Ay cariño, you're too kind for ya own good.” He chuckles softly, pressing another, slightly longer kiss on your lips.

That slightly longer turns into much longer, which then turns into you panting into eachothers's mouth, craving one another as if it's integral to your survival.

“Please do it again, honey, wanna see you do it again.”

The friction from your bodies grinding relentlessly together has him dazed, his brain taking a few seconds to compute.

“Oh, angel, so impatient,” he teases as he grabs the box of cigs from the table and pulls one out. He runs it under his nose and takes a big whiff, letting out a loud, pleasured groan afterwards to make you giggle at his silliness, which you do.

You bite your lip, and he puts the stick between his rosy lips, looking up at you hungrily. “This what ya wanted, darlin’? ‘S this what you've been waitin’ for?” His tone is almost condescending, but his words roll off of his tongue in such a smooth way that you're quick to forgive him.

Your hips automatically grind down on him as you nod, biting your lip hard, before you feel his hands land on your waist again, traveling underneath your shirt and over your warm skin until you feel his fingers just brush over your left nipple. The hem of your shirt moves past your face before you can even think about it, your eyes still glued to his pretty mouth as you roll your hips on him to pull those soft grunts from his throat.

“Look at ya, I've barely touched ya and you're all worked up.” He grins as he brings his hand down to the waistband of your sweats to slide them lovingly down your thighs. It's a little mortifying how you don't even question him, how you don't even need anymore working up thanks to a heated make-out session and the sight of the cig hanging from his lips loosely. You lift your ass to help him pull them down, your underwear following suit.

That's when you realize he hasn't even taken his grey t-shirt off, and you're stark naked in his lap.

“This has got to have a name...” You rest your hands on his chest, the feeling of your bare cunt grinding against his jeans making you tilt your head back.

“Hmm?” He asks, undoing his belt buckle and fly.

“Your thing for having me completely naked while you can't even be bothered to take your shirt off.”

He laughs at that. “Maybe, ya should look it up later. See if it's on that woman's TikTok page.” He pulls his twitching cock out of the confines of his boxers, running his thumb over the ruddy tip. The gesture makes you take in a soft inhale, inching your hips closer to him so you can let his cock slide between your folds and through your arousal.

You both groan at the movement, and you watch Jake shuffle in his pocket for his lighter moments later, bringing the small flame to the end of the cig to light it. His chest expands, and then deflates as he blows the smoke away.

“You're so gorgeous, mi vida.” He says softly, two fingers holding the cigarette tightly as he runs them across your flesh to make goosebumps prickle across your arms and your cheeks heat up.

“And you're so handsome, Jakey.” You moan softly as he brings his mouth close to your chest and places kisses all over the expanse of skin, guiding your hand down between your bodies to help him slide inside you.

He pulls away and places the stick between his lips again to take in another drag and admire the picture in front of him. “Such a pretty angel,” he reiterates, feeling your warmth envelop his aching length as you sink down on him.

Your thighs shudder just a little, a pant escaping your lips as your hole stretches around him with ease, used to their girth by now.

“Love the dumb little look on ya face when ya take it, cariño. Ya like havin’ me stretch ya open like this?” Jake's words travel straight to your core, fueling the fire in your tummy as you lift your hips just to sink back down on him.

“Yes, baby, I love the way you stretch me open.”

The moan that comes from his lips is wonderful, and it's followed by another billow of smoke, the cig back in the corner of his mouth so he can guide your hips. You can see him already gritting his teeth around it, taking in sharp inhales as you start a deep rhythm on him.

“Oh baby…” You moan. You desperately want to close your eyes to enjoy the feeling, but the sight of him fucking you with that deathstick between his teeth is too glorious, penance for the time you spent worrying. “Shit, you look so hot, Jake. So fucking sexy…” You groan as he grasps your ass, gripping the flesh and dragging you down on his cock with growls.

“Ya look even better takin’ it, darlin’, ya take it so well; my pretty slut.”

You grip his shoulders, cursing him for being able to push your buttons and make you whine at the most humiliating of names. Your body always tells him different, though, especially as you start bouncing faster on his cock, feeling it hit that fucking sweet spot each time you come down on him.

Jake is panting too now, and he has to hold the cig between his fingers again to stop it from dropping on you. “Ya feel so good squeezin’ me like that, cariño… Fuck this cunt is magical–.” He still has a grip on your hip, and uses it as leverage so that he can start bucking his hips into your wet heat.

Needless to say, you aren't going to last much longer.

“J-ake! Honey… Fuck I'm so close–agh!-.” Your walls clench around him while your hand slips between your legs to circle your clit, eyes opening briefly to get a glimpse at the sight you'd been waiting to see for what felt like weeks.

That's it, that's all you needed as you sink down on him and grind your cunt against your hand, panting and moaning with your head thrown back. Waves of pleasure rush over you and soak through your bones entirely, your toes clenching like your walls.

You release the grip you had on his shoulders, not that he seemed to mind, that is, before leaning forward to kiss him. You don't care about the smokey taste on his tongue because all you want is him, his taste.

“Mmnnn… We ain't done yet, darlin’,” Jake pulls from the kiss and gestures to the half burnt cigarette as he places it back between his lips.

He gropes your waist and pulls you off of his cock with a soft yelp from you, instead pressing you down into the couch, face turned outwards so he can lean down and look at your face. This position always makes you whine, always makes your legs shake as you try to keep yourself up, and Jake never goes easy on you. He likes seeing the way your ass and thighs bounce as he brings you back on him, and loves hearing the filthy noises that are produced in the process.

The feeling of him splitting you open again has you biting on the cushion, your thoughts from before being true as he ruthlessly fucks into you, loud growls and grunts rumbling in his chest and ringing in your ears.

It's hard to ignore how good it makes you feel when he uses you like this. Sure you love the soft and tender moments you get with the three of them, but once you'd felt what they can really do to you, there was no going back.

You're surprised you haven't ripped the cushion cover from how hard you're gripping it, dumb, cock drunk whines and whimpers falling from your lips as the man fucks you closer and closer to another orgasm.

He leans over you, cigarette barely staying between his lips as he watches your eyes screw shut and random gibberish fall from your mouth.

“Ay, my pretty little fucktoy. Ya love it when I'm rough with ya, don't ya?” He pants and strokes his hand down your chest, running all the way down your tummy till he reaches your swollen clit. “Love it when I… when I use ya.”

His strong and composed facade is faltering, just as it usually does when he's getting close, sitting up again to throw his head back and take puffs of his almost completely gone cigarette.

You can see colours dancing behind your eyelids with how tightly they're screwed shut, the way his fingers are rubbing your clit being almost unbearable as you let out cries and pleas to come again.

“Yeah cariño, that's it, cum all over my cock, lemme feel ya twitch.”

An even stronger wave than before crashes over you and wracks your whole body. Your moans get stuck in your throat as you milk Jake of all he has, his own orgasm having hit him after you'd shrieked his name.

Thankfully, he's quick to remove his fingers from your throbbing clit, knowing it gets a little too sensitive after two mind-blowing orgasms.

”AH FUCK-”

Your post-nut bliss is interrupted by a pained yelp from the man, making you crane your neck to look back at him frantically pulling the cigarette butt from his lips and putting it out in the ashtray.

You laugh, albeit sleepily, and watch his dopey gaze drift to yours as he chuckles lowly. “Fuckin’ cigarettes… maybe next time I should get some of those fake ones.” He jokes as he pulls out of you and touches his sore lips.

You giggle and sit up wobbly, turning to wrap your arms around his neck. “I did think when we started that it was a little dangerous.”

“Ay, ya live and ya learn.”

You both laugh and Jake presses his face into your neck, placing soft kisses as he falls back against the couch with a thump, taking you with him.

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Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @rinverse

#moon knight #moon knight system #moon boys #jake lockley #moon knight smut #jake lockley smut #jake lockley x reader #oscar isaac characters

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sydnikov · 17 days

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Fleeting || A. Svechnikov

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov / fem!Reader

Word Count: 17.5k

Summary: Every moment with Andrei is fleeting.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), cheating(?), toxic relationship, alcoholic consumption, angst, cursing, no happy ending, Andrei-is-a-dick™

A/N: For those of you who have already been following me, you might remember this post—that’s what this is based on :) This is also the longest fic I’ve ever written so that’s insane, but sorry not sorry. Get ready, this one’s gonna hurt 🤭

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Andrei doesn’t love you.

It becomes clear for you months after you start fucking him on the side. His likeness for you is merely an obsession, something to have all to himself.

You’re his, or were his, and that’s how he saw you. Nothing more than that, or at least that’s the conclusion you’ve come to after months apart lets you reflect on your relationship with him.

Spending a lot of time in your head, you think. About him, his actions, why he couldn’t love you the way you love him.

He always held you close to him, one muscular arm curled around your waist while the other likely held a drink in his hand. He paraded you around like a prize, happy to show off the hot piece of meat he likely thought of you as at his side.

It was hard to reach him, literally and metaphorically. You had to stand up on your toes to reach his ear, and the power imbalance just by your height difference alone only made the whole thing hotter, merely one aspect of your relationship you never really could get over.

Every time you spoke it had him grinning in a way that made you think he knew something you didn’t. You’re already so shy, too, and it’s what made up your whole demeanor, what drew him to you in the first place.

He likes sweetness. Innocence, quiet—that way you couldn’t rebel. And he loved it when you doted on him. You did your best to be everything he wanted in a girl, too. Bold makeup, skimpy clothing, speaking only to him and him alone. Best of all, you didn’t question him. His actions, his decisions, why he’d sometimes go days without speaking to you but once he called you again, you would come running without hesitation.

It took you too long to realize that he only liked you because you were someone he could fall back on when the freedom of his escapades got too boring and he needed stability. The thing is that Andrei loved you being his, but he didn’t want to ever be yours.

And you know this now, you do. The moment you went no contact and left his apartment in tears, you were calling your best friend for support and to reinforce the fact that he is the asshole, not you.

Sometimes, though, you dream. Of his hands on you, his mouth on your neck, his thick cock pounding into you from behind. The toxicity of it all that, despite everything, felt so good because your emotions were always on overdrive when with him.

Mostly, you liked feeling desired. Nobody had ever pursued you the way he did, even if your body is all he really wanted from you to begin with.

It’s been months since you confessed your feelings for him and he told you to leave; months of you wallowing, going to work, meeting with friends for drinks as a shell of yourself because without Andrei, life suddenly seemed colorless.

You miss him. The excitement, the tension, the way he made you feel. And you pride yourself on being confident, but all self respect flies out the window the moment his name is brought up. It’s wrong, too, you swear you know this, and you imagine countless times telling him off, if you ever run into him again.

For treating you like a body to warm his dick, a soulless individual with no feeling… You’re reminded of the last conversation you had with him yet again, the one that ended everything. You’d been seeing each other for months when it occurred. Months full of Andrei and the rollercoaster of emotions he had you on.

To get to the end, though, you have to go back to the beginning.

It’s January of twenty twenty-three, and you’re freshly twenty-one and experiencing the world in a way you never could before. Riding the high of getting your first serious job in college, it took no convincing at all for you to let your best friend, Maria, convince you to go out on a Friday night to celebrate your blossoming lives.

“Who are we meeting there, again?” You ask, painting your lips a bright red in front of Maria’s full-body mirror. You’ve already started pregaming, and your head is starting to buzz in just the way you like it.

Your blonde friend is quickly curling her hair, despite the fact that she’s had hours to get ready and still procrastinated until you arrived at her apartment. “Some friends from work. You probably won’t know them,” She says offhandedly, finishing her hair in record timing before snatching up the two dresses she had previously laid out on her bed. “Should I wear this in black or red?”

Raising a brow, you question her wording. “Considering I don’t work with you, I doubt I would.” Laughing, you turn your head away from the mirror to examine the two dresses she’s holding up to her body. “Do the red one, it makes your eyes pop.”

Anything would look good on Maria, though. She has this timeless sort of beauty, a blonde, blue-eyed bombshell that has eyes turning her way wherever she goes. You’d be jealous if you didn’t mind her taking all the attention off of you, considering you’re nowhere near as bold as her.

It will especially come in handy tonight, too, since these co-workers of hers are ones you’ve never met before and you don’t exactly plan on getting too close to them.

“This is why I get ready with you,” Maria sighs happily, unceremoniously throwing the black dress back onto her bed. “Oh! I almost forgot, I have heels for you!” She’s then running back into her closet, ruffling through a box before emerging with a pair of bright red stilettos.

“What’s with the red theme tonight?” You giggle as she tosses the heels to you. They look expensive, a brand you don’t recognize written in cursive on the inside of the leather soles. Maria insisted you incorporate red into your outfit tonight, whether it be subtle or bold.

She eyes you from her position on the bed, somehow managing to zip up her dress one-handed. “You don’t watch sports by any chance, do you?”

Throwing back the last of a vodka shot, you wince before responding. “My dad made me watch baseball with him sometimes?”

Maria’s face lights up like she suddenly knows something you don’t. All she does is hum in response, biting her lip like she’s holding back from telling you something.

Or, you’re just drunk. You’ve always been a lightweight. “What?” You ask anyway, finally standing up as you adjust yourself.

The blonde walks over to you, fixes the creases in your little black dress and affixes you with an approving stare. “Don’t worry about it,” Suddenly, she’s whirling around to go back for her phone, which is laid faced down on the nightstand. “Ooh, I knew those heels were a good choice. You look so good!”

As she saunters back over, wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you into her side and poses for a picture, you forget all about the abrupt topic change and the fact that her red theme with questions of sports does mean something, after all.

Truthfully, you still can’t remember exactly how you got from her apartment and into a high-end bar you’ve only ever seen advertised online. Bits and pieces of an Uber ride along with downing more shots come to mind, but it’s all hazy.

You don’t really care to remember though, either, as Maria leads you through the crowded bar, arm linked through yours, with a purpose. The music is loud, so loud you think you can see the walls moving, but that’s also probably just your swimming vision.

“Here they are!” Maria is shouting over the noise, and you follow her gaze to a group of tall, imposing men surrounding two booths right by the bar.

“Those are you coworkers?” You ask, a little incredulous. Scratch that—very incredulous.

She sends you a mischievous grin. “I said friends, girl. Meet my friends!” That’s what gathers their attention, and you’re suddenly reminded that she’s just as tipsy as you right now, if not more.

Ah, fuck, you think as one of the men come over and pull Maria into a hug. He looks at you questioningly after they pull apart, and you send him a small, nervous smile.

Damn it, Maria.

“You must be the friend she mentioned,” He says, again looking to the blonde beside you for confirmation. “From college, yeah?”

That seems to snap Maria out of whatever stunned stupor she’d been in, and she tunes back into your conversation by, again, pulling you into her. “My best friend,” She swoons, and yeah. She’s definitely drunk now.

“Nice to meet you,” He’s chuckling, and seems to be familiar with her antics. “I’m Martin.”

You introduce yourself and shake his offered hand. “Any leftover shots, by any chance?” While taking the lead in conversation with people you’ve never met before might seem odd, you don’t think you can rely on Maria to socialize for you considering she’s already falling into your side.

“I can check, if you want to follow me—ah, shit,” Martin curses, suddenly, then quickly apologizes to the two of you before rushing over to a man with a mustache attempting to climb on top of a table.

“Interesting friends, Maria,” You say into her ear as you reluctantly follow him, keeping her close. “Who’s the one with the mustache?”

She seems to gain a little bit of her wits back to give you a description of all the guys within your eyesight. “The mustache is Seth, super friendly but also, uh… Super drunk. He’s Canadian.”

You’re not sure why you need to know his nationality, but she continues before you can ask.

“And you just met Martin, right? Yeah, he’s really nice. His girlfriend, Nykki, is gorgeous, they’re both from Czechia. Then there’s the really tall one, behind Seth? No, other side. Yeah, that’s Jesperi. A bit of a flirt even though we’re all pretty sure he has a girlfriend, but he still won’t admit it. He’s Finnish.”

Maria continues to describe a few of the others, but truthfully, you tune out after Jesperi because a man about the same height as the Finn is suddenly approaching the group, and looks to be the only one Seth listens to because that’s who gets him to crawl down from the table.

You don’t know why he catches your attention so suddenly, but something about him… He turns, and you’re able to catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Immediately, you come to find there’s no accurate word to describe him. His beauty simply transcends any compliment you could give; instead, you interrupt your friend from her spiel.

“Hey Mare, Mare—who’s that?” Slapping her arm, you point towards the now-laughing stranger. He’s looking around as he does so, which is when he makes contact with your starstruck eyes. He looks amused, then seems to recognize the blonde beside you, and then he’s cutting through the crowd to meet you.

Maria gives you a look before also spotting the approaching stranger, and a large smile lights up her face. It’s a smile you’re very familiar with, one that enraptures every man who catches a glimpse of her pearly whites.

You quickly come to the conclusion that this is why she was so eager to go out. She’s likely had her eye on him for a while, and you struggle to keep the disappointment from your face as she purrs his name.

“Hey, Andrei,” She says, a little giggly. “Great game today, you all played awesome.”

Andrei… You test the name silently, liking the way it feels on your tongue. He’s even taller up close, and you can see the muscle definition straining through the fabric of his shirt. He’s huge, and you feel incredibly small standing next to him.

“Thank you,” He replies, his voice deep. A little husky, definitely accented, but you’re not sure from where. “Who’s your friend?” He changes topic quickly, and those dark eyes are back on you once again.

Maria, as ditzy as she can be, does notice the subtle change in him. Andrei has never been overly flirty with her like she has with him, and she’d be an idiot not to notice the way his eyes were drawn to you the moment he spotted you.

She’s used to having all sorts of attention from the opposite sex, and the Russian hockey player is all sorts her type. It’s amusing though, watching how you melt under his gaze, thinks ‘me too’, and then decides to help you out.

“This is my friend from college,” She introduces you, says your name and watches as he takes it in like it’s very important information. Grabbing your hand from where it rests at your side, she holds it out to Andrei for you, snickers as you send her a glare. “And this is Andrei. He plays for the Carolina Hurricanes.”

This is why she asked you if you watch sports, you suddenly connect the dots. And why she was telling you where all these people are from. Her friends from work are actually sports players, and you understand why she didn’t say it outright.

These guys, they’re famous, right? Your stomach twists, and you suck in a breath as Andrei takes your hand. His palm envelops yours, and he brings it to his lips to press a heated kiss to your skin.

The greeting is outdated, but for whatever reason it suits him. You think the kiss is a promise, too, as his thumb swipes over the back of your hand.

“That’s hockey, right?” You intend to ask Maria, but you’re unable to take your eyes off of Andrei as he slowly lets go of you, like the contact is riveting for him, too. “In the NHL?”

“Yes,” He answers. “You don’t watch?” You’re not a fan like he’d expect. Strangely enough, he likes that you don’t follow them. It makes you all the more interesting, someone new to pick apart for his pleasure.

You flush, turning red under his unrelenting gaze. Suddenly, you feel out of place with your lackluster hockey knowledge. “Not a huge sports girl, unfortunately.” You say slowly, but he catches your quiet words anyway.

He’s already tuned into you—has made you into a new game to win, in his mind.

“I can fix that.” Andrei grins, and it’s almost predatory as he smoothly slides his left arm around your waist. “Do you mind if I steal her?” He directs his question to Maria, but doesn’t really give her a chance to answer before pulling you away.

Turning your head, you find her sending you a grin as she mouths something encouraging, holding up two thumbs-ups. She’s already decided that if she can’t have this sexy Russian, she wants you to instead.

“I like your heels,” His deep voice is in your ear, suddenly, and you take your eyes off of Maria to look up at Andrei, instead. “They’re the color of our jerseys.”

“Thank you,” You breathe, letting the warmth from his compliment wash over you. “Maria made me wear them.”

He clicks his tongue, like this information doesn’t surprise him. “She has good taste. Red is definitely your color.”

You flush again, finding that his eyes are already on you when you tilt your head up. Nobody has ever told you that before… Maria is always the one getting praise, not you.

The fast beating of your heart, shaky limbs and nervous breath, and you already know you’re falling for it. His charm, his looks, his confidence; it’s addicting, and you can’t force yourself to stop as you ever so slightly lean into him, letting his body envelop you.

Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the bar, and Andrei orders a drink over the loud bass that reverberates in your ears. It appears moments later - not fair - and then he’s sliding it towards you. You meet his eyes again as he smiles, raising a brow at your silence before he gestures to take it.

“For you,” He says. “Vodka cranberry. I have a feeling you like the fruity drinks, no?”

He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it. You’re not one for sipping hard, bitter liquor, even if it gets the job done. You’re not sure how you feel about him being able to read you so well, but you do like not having to carry the conversation.

“Am I that transparent?” You grin, though it’s laced with insecurity as you take a sip. It’s good, and helps calm your nerves.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, malyshka. It’s not a bad thing.”

You wouldn’t know it then, but he already began patronizing you the moment you met him. The Russian language is full of double-meanings, and malyshka, little one, is rather mocking. For him to know you so well already was a good thing for him, but for you? Not so much.

Andrei sees right through you, and he has from the very beginning.

“You’re not American, are you?” You change topic, suddenly, using the unfamiliar term he used as an excuse. “Your accent, it’s foreign.”

“Net—no, I’m not. Most of my teammates are out of country.” He replies. “I’m from Russia. Just here to play hockey.”

“Do you like it? Here in Raleigh?” You ask, a pitiful form of small talk to keep this sudden tension at bay.

“I do.” He replies. “I like it a whole lot more now that I’ve met you, though.” And then he’s smiling again, a grin rather feral as he looks at you like you’re his prey waiting to be devoured. He’s incredibly smooth as he puts his hands back on you, one sliding around the circumference of your waist while the other brings your hand holding the drink to his lips, taking a sip from the glass.

Your eyes go half-lidded at the motion, and Andrei knows he has you—hook, line, and sinker. He loves this game, but he thinks he likes you a little bit more than that, too.

Not that he’ll ever admit it.

“You just met me,” You blurt, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

Andrei, to his credit, takes your nervousness in stride. He finds it cute that he has that effect on you. “And I like you,” He counters, flashing a dazzling smile. “You’re cute. Small, like kisa.”

“Kisa?” You try out the unfamiliar word, your attempt at a Russian accent definitely not as sexy as his.

“Kitten,” He translates. “Will you purr for me?” It’s so disgustingly cheesy you can’t help but grimace, and Andrei laughs at the look on your face.

He steps closer, even more than he was before, and the way he looks down on you only makes the difference in height that much more noticeable. He’s so big… Normally you’d feel caged, but with him it feels safe, and that’s probably a red flag you won’t discover until much later.

You struggle finding something to say, but he beats you to it. “I’d like your number, if you’re willing to give it.” And he’s so smooth, so conniving with the way he asks it because he’s not demanding at all, letting you think you have all the power.

“Okay,” You breathe, eyes widening in awe as you don’t even have the chance to pull out your phone before he’s sliding his own into your hands. “You can add your contact.” He instructs, watching you type in your information.

It looks informal, your first and last name in his phone like you’re merely a coworker. You’ll blame it on you being tipsy later, but you add a smiley face at the end of your name, hoping it makes you stand out. You don’t know how many girls he has in his contacts but you’re not naive enough to think you’re the only one.

You lick your lips almost subconsciously as you hand Andrei his phone back, and he zeroes in on the motion. Suddenly, he has the urge to kiss you, and so he does just that. It catches you by surprise, but soon enough you’re melting into him as one large hand cradles your jaw, keeping you tilted up to him.

Andrei tastes like sin, like temptation and all things bad you were told to never get involved in as a kid. A forbidden fruit, perhaps, and there’s even hints of cranberry left on his tongue to cement that fact.

“Andrei…” You hum in surprise as he deepens the kiss, his lips soft and heavenly. It takes everything in you to pull back, to separate yourself from the addicting taste of him. “Wait, I don’t, um—”

You pause. Andrei looks confused, perhaps a little alarmed as his eyes flit over your face. “You don’t… Kiss anyone?”

“No! No,” You lower your voice, not wanting to attract any attention. “Of course I do. I just, I don’t hook up. For fun. Ever.”

He frowns, like he can’t fathom the idea that you don’t enjoy sex with no strings attached.

“Really,” he says, not quite a question. “You’re beautiful, though.” The charm comes back full force as his hand comes to brush away some of your hair that had fallen into your face. “Surely you have suitors, no?”

Your throat tightens, and suddenly your eyes are glassy as he looks at you with so much reassurance and affection. “Maria usually gets the ‘suitors’, not me.”

“I don’t believe that.” He responds immediately, and he looks so sure of himself as his head lowers, his eyes looking back and forth from yours to your lips, and you’re helpless to stop him as the hand moving your hair comes to rest on your cheek.

It’s all very convincing, the sudden care and adoration… You’ve never had a man treat you so delicate, like a prized possession, and you fall for it all too quickly.

“Let me take you out?” He soon asks, and there’s nothing you can really respond with other than yes.

Everything happens so quickly from here. Andrei becomes a centerpiece in your life, and you’re helpless to stop it as you fall for everything about him. You don’t truly become his ‘girlfriend’, but you are something more. Secret dates and midnight drives where no one can see you confirm that.

That’s why you think he’s finally turning serious about you when he shows up to your apartment at the beginning of March a few weeks before his playoffs start. He holds a large bouquet of roses, except your favorite flowers are gardenias because they remind you of your mom so your smile wobbles a little bit, but you let it slide for the romanticism of it all.

Andrei grins, the whites of his teeth blinding and he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. He asks you if you’ll come to his playoff games, wear a WAG jacket and act as if what you are is official. You think you truly mean something to him after this, even though he never actually confirms it.

Suddenly you’re Andrei’s girl (but not really) and it becomes your entire identity. You essentially live with him as the playoffs come around, taking care of his apartment while he’s on the road. He talks of getting a dog over the summer, and you’re enthusiastic in your encouragement because you’ll have a friend to keep you company while he’s on the road.

His injury happens, though, and he’s out for good, at least for the rest of the season. You don’t know how to comfort him because your ‘relationship’ is so new, and it’s hard for you to understand why the anger at himself cuts so deep.

Ultimately, you fix the rough patch with sex. Lots and lots of sex. He works through his frustrations by taking you long, hard, and deep, mostly with him on top holding your throat while you take it like the good girl he tells you you are.

“‘Drei, your leg,” You remember saying to him one time as he slams you onto his bed, rolling directly on top of you. He doesn’t seem to hear you at first, too busy laying kisses to your neck.

“I don’t care.” He eventually responds, looking at you so darkly it leaves you shivering. He eats you out afterwards, and, well—you don’t have any more protests after that.

They win the first series against the New York Islanders in six games, and the moment the final goal is scored in overtime you’re jumping out of your seat along with the other WAG’s at one of their houses.

It’s exhilarating, rooting for something with every ounce of your being. You do it for Andrei - who still isn’t playing, but he was there watching - but mostly for yourself because you love the feeling of belonging to a community so close.

The second series ends sooner than the first, a five game victory over the New Jersey Devils, and this time you are at that final game. You sit with Andrei in a private booth at the top of PNC Arena, gripping his arm that also holds onto your thigh with the same amount of intensity.

The moment the final goal is scored - also in overtime - you’re hunching over your seat releasing a long breath. Andrei attempts to rise, then likely remembers his leg which forces him to grip the arms of his chair in strained acceptance.

“They did it,” You hear him whisper, like he can’t believe they actually came out of this series alive. “They did it.” He repeats himself, louder and more confident. You’re still folded over yourself, letting the anxiety drain out of you when he grabs your hand and tangles your fingers together.

“My kisa,” He says, waiting for you to turn your head so he can smile brilliantly at you. “We did it.”

“Not we,” And you grin back, because there’s nothing else for you to do but match his ecstasy. “You did it.”

“I didn’t even play,” Andrei is laughing, soaking in your praise like a sponge. “But I was here, wasn’t I?”

“You mean more to them than you’ll ever know.” More to me than you’ll ever know, you want to say, but hold back on that particular vulnerability.

After he finishes the team meeting in the locker room, you take him back to his house. He still hasn’t been given the all clear to drive, so you’ve taken up caretaker duties along with his mother.

You don’t think she likes you very much, either, but Andrei just says it takes a while for her to warm up to new people. Thankfully, she’s never around when you are though, because as you close the front door to his house he gives you a look equating to a meal he wants to devour.

Andrei seems to forget all about his knee, again, when he moves into you, pushing you back against the front door. “You drive me crazy.” He mumbles into your lips, and you don’t think you’re meant to respond as he moves to your neck.

You wore his jersey tonight, hoping it would bring the team good luck. You also happen to like how possessive he gets when he sees you in his clothes, especially wearing his name. It’s a little ridiculous, but you can’t lie and say you don’t love the attention.

Biting into your jugular, he tastes your rapidly beating heart before moving on, addicted to the sound of the moan that chokes its way out of your throat.

“I’m going to fuck you,” He breathes, massaging his hands into your waist as he pulls you away from the door. “And you’re going to love it, aren’t you? Because you’re such a good girl. My good girl.” His raspy voice leaves you holding back a whimper, and it’s hard to speak as he begins to sneak his hands under your jersey.

When you don’t respond because you’re too distracted by his hands, his damn hands, trailing up your ribs, he digs his fingers harshly into your skin. Your eyes snap open to find him almost glaring.

“Yes,” You think he wants to hear you say. “I’m yours.” You babble as his fingers let up, moving to cup your breasts over your bra as he pinches your nipples into hard points.

“That’s right,” He hums almost mockingly, hands now back to your waist as he pulls you after him to the path of his room. “No one else can make you feel like I do, yeah?”

This time he doesn’t expect a response as he pushes his door open, turning you around as you fall into his bed. Your head spins as the jersey you’re wearing rides up and Andrei quickly does the rest, slipping it off you with ease.

“Fuck,” You think he says, but you could care less as his bare hands are back on you, kneading the soft skin of your stomach and trailing back up the length of your torso. “No shirt underneath?”

“It was too hot outside,” You reply, breathless as you attempt to tug his suit and tie off, but that quickly proves to be more difficult. He tsks, thankfully deciding to aid you as he rids himself of his jacket. “You’re lucky that jersey is so thick.” He says, moreso to himself as he begins unbuttoning his slacks.

All that’s left is his undershirt and boxers, meanwhile you’re still left in your bra, jeans, and panties. Andrei must realize this too as he kicks his slacks off somewhere behind him. “Strip,” He commands, but you don’t need the reminder as you’re already one step ahead of him.

Your jeans and panties come off quickly, but it’s harder to remove your bra lying down. You eye the delicious specimen of a man above you, reaching out your hand for his own. “Help me?” You ask, biting your bottom lip before rolling onto your stomach.

Andrei mutters something behind you, but it’s clearly appraisal as the first thing his hands land on is your bare ass. He spends a few moments appreciating the view before his fingers trail up your back, unclipping your bra much quicker than you ever could have.

“You, kisa, are dangerous,” He teases, lowering himself to where his solid chest is pressing down on your back. He loves taking you from behind, tangling his hands in your hair while you’re left to his mercy.

He noses his way past your hair to reach your neck, lightly nipping the skin as you sigh, your head melting to the side so he can continue his ministrations.

“Andrei, please,” You hiss, the wetness between your thighs now too prominent to ignore. You wiggle your hips tantalizingly, hoping to catch his attention.

He grins into your neck, doesn’t respond as he presses a final kiss to your pulse point before pulling back, his right hand sweeping the rest of your hair to the side.

“You need me to touch you?” He asks, smoothing his left hand over your hip before slipping it to the inside of your thighs. His fingers find your clit, rubbing it ever so lightly to feel you flinch with sensitivity underneath him.

You tremble underneath him as he continues stroking you, and your hips jerk upward when two of his fingers slip past your walls and curl. He’s laughing as your ears ring, and already you’re so close to coming when his thumb rubs circles on your clit in time with the thrust of his hand.

Just like everything else about you, though, he knows; he knows and he pulls back before you even have the chance to swear because then the last layer of clothing between you is gone. His boxers are thrown somewhere behind him along with his undershirt, and now he wastes no time pulling your hips up, leaving your chest pressed into the bed.

So used to this familiar position, you look behind you in anticipation to find him stroking his cock, staring at your glistening pussy with barely contained arousal. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for, but then he’s sliding his free hand through your soaked lips to gather the wetness there, using it as lubricant.

“Shit,” He says, swearing more to himself before climbing atop you. It’s routine the way he grabs your hair, tangles it in his fingers while the other guides his swollen cock to your entrance. The bulbous head pushes into you with ease, finding no resistance as he sinks into you.

Andrei hisses, mutters something in Russian, then is lowering his head to press his lips to your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight. You just feel so good all the time, you know that, kisa?”

The only sound capable of coming out your mouth is a whimper as you bury your face into the sheets as his hips begin thrusting, hitting your sweet spot with bullseye accuracy each time.

The girth of him stretches you out deliciously, and it leaves your walls clenching and unclenching rhythmically in time with his movements. You mold to him like your body was made for him, like there’s no other way to exist without him taking you in such primal fashion.

Andrei’s head rests in the crook of your neck, murmuring indiscernible phrases while his hands trail up and down your body. His hips rut against your clit each time he thrusts forward, and if anything you get wetter at the thought of him fucking you so callously.

You feel like his most precious belonging sometimes, like an object. It can be disorienting when he talks to you like you’re a child, but when he fucks you it’s like that preciousness he views you with is amplified.

You flinch upward when his cock curves into you just right, and the way he coos into your ear to bring you back down only verifies that thought. He wants to take care of you, always—even if it demeans you.

Andrei suddenly rolls over onto his back, bringing you with him to where you’re the one on top with your back laying against his chest. He sits up, and now you’re in his lap, thighs spread to the side as he once again begins fucking into you.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream as your head rolls back onto his shoulder, the new angle forcing his cock into deeper lengths inside you, and it hurts but it hurts so good and why were you ever questioning how he treats you, again?

How has only one man ever been able to make you feel this good?

Euphoria floods your veins as his hands find purchase on your body, one taking your left tit and rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other sneaks down to the junction of your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing over it mercilessly.

When your stomach starts clenching and your lower spine tingles, Andrei is right back at your ear whispering encouragement. “That’s it, angel,” He praises. “That’s it. You want to come, yeah? Do it. I’ve got you.”

His name leaves your mouth as a breathless whine, and you struggle not to flinch away from his touch when it becomes too much but also not enough, and somehow he knows this and just holds you tighter.

When his cock hits you so deliciously good while his thumb swipes over your clit, you fall. You fall hard, the walls of your cunt seizing around him as ecstasy takes over your body. Sparks fly across your skin, stars filling the empty blackness behind your closed eyes and you think you’re sobbing Andrei’s name but you can’t be sure. The only thing you can be sure of is him; his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his teeth on your neck as he approaches his high.

Yours lasts for longer than normal because he doesn’t stop moving—if anything, he goes faster, because the sight and feeling of sending you into a spiral only triggers his own release.

By now you’re motionless, unable to even lift your head as it remains lying against his shoulder. Andrei’s thrusts are frenzied, more sloppy and less precise, until he’s throwing his own back with a long, pleasure-filled groan.

Eventually, he stills. His chest is rising and falling behind you rapidly, attempting to collect himself now that his mind is back in the present. You sigh, quietly yet happy, as his cock softens inside you but doesn’t move, his release slowly trickling down your conjoined bodies.

You suddenly remember that he didn’t lose a condom, but then you remind yourself that you’d stopped using condoms weeks before. You were already on birth control, and he assured you this was exclusive.

You were a fool to believe him.

Andrei soon moves, his hands taking to your hips as he gently lifts you off of him. “I know,” He says when you hiss with sensitivity. “I’ve got you, good girl…” He lays you on your back, and you don’t move from your position even as he leaves the room.

Your eyes soon flutter shut, and you curl to the side as the minutes go by with no sign of return. It’s not regret that fills your mind, no, but another emotion, something stronger than just satisfaction at getting such a pleasurable release.

You don’t dare to think of the world ‘love’, but maybe something similar to that is what you’re feeling?

It doesn’t help that just as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, Andrei comes back to your naked form while he’s now adorned in sweatpants. You merely hum as he sits on the edge of his bed next to you, one of his hands reaching out to trail up your arm. When he reaches your face he brushes away the hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead from cooling sweat, letting your skin breathe.

He says something, so quiet it’s impossible to hear over the sound of your thundering heart, and you don’t have the energy to ask as you finally succumb to exhaustion.

Andrei cleans you up after, dries the inside of your legs and slides one of his t-shirts over you. He tucks you under his sheets and pulls you into his arms, letting your hair tickle his cheeks.

The Eastern Conference Final arrives far quicker than any of you are prepared for, and games one and two against the Florida Panthers are full of anxious nail-biting and frustrated cursing when the puck hits the goal post.

Both games end in overtime losses, and the team has to play games three and four in enemy territory, down by two.

Andrei, understandably, isn’t taking it well. It's hard for the players on the ice, of course, but even harder when he has to sit at the sidelines, hidden in a booth at the top of the arena with you doing your best to comfort him.

“Why can’t they just fucking score?” You remember him hissing before the end of regulation in game two, not angry at his teammates but at the situation instead.

And himself, too, because he is the injured one. He is the one who tore his ACL making it so that he couldn’t play. It isn’t his fault, but it is at the same time and that’s what’s truly getting to him.

As the timer hit zero, he’d leaned back in his chair and grabbed your hand without thought, squeezing your fingers to the point of strangulation.

You let him, though, because at that point you’d let him do anything.

“I’m sorry.” You said, your eyes on him the entire time. It pained you to see him so miserable, and there was nothing you could do to make it better. “This isn’t your fault. It’s… Blame Bobrovsky, okay? He’s just too—”

You interrupted yourself, not wanting to say ‘good’ even if that’s true because you didn’t want to upset him with the implication that his teammates couldn’t be better.

Andrei, to give him credit, didn’t take offense. His eyes were on you the moment you started your ramble, and as you finally paused to gauge the look on his face you found amusement and unbridled affection in his gaze.

“Too good?” He finished your sentence, waiting for your meek nod of confirmation. Merely sighing, he only brought your intertwined fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of your hand. “You’re right, kisa. He is too good.”

You stay back in Raleigh while the team, including Andrei, takes flight to Sunrise, Florida. Most of the WAG’s stay back too, the majority already anticipating the result of this series.

Hours after the team’s flight, Maria calls you late on the eve of game three.

“Hey, Mare!” You answer, lowering the volume of whatever show is on the television to better hear her. “What’s up?”

“Hey, girl!” She chirps, and you can hear voices in the background so you assume she’s somewhere busy. “Just landed in Florida!”

“You flew to Florida?” You ask, choking slightly. “Since when?”

“Don’t you remember? I told you! The team needed extra people since we’re staying here for longer than a night.”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Is all you say because you don’t, in fact, remember, and suddenly feel really guilty about it. You haven’t actually spoken to Maria face-to-face in weeks, having been caught up in everything Andrei-related.

You haven’t talked to lots of people you were close to before Andrei came into the picture, now that you think about it. It’s a problem you’re sure to reflect on when you’re done talking to your friend.

“...bunch of us are going out tonight since the game isn’t until later tomorrow night, including a lot of the team.”

Maria’s voice tunes back in, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts to catch-up. “Really?” You inquire, now suddenly interested. “Is Andrei going with them?”

You could ask him yourself, sure, but you don’t really talk about that stuff, what he does or what you do in your free time. It always felt invasive to ask because you weren’t quite sure if you even had the right to, considering the nature of your relationship.

You doubt he thinks about what you do when you’re not with him, anyway, so you always just assume you can live in the moment with him and have that be good enough.

“Dunno,” She replies. “Can’t you ask him yourself? You’re seeing the man, after all.” You can hear the smirk in her voice at the last sentence.

“Um,” You stall, because no, you can’t just ask. “He just got off the plane, I don’t want to bother him.”

“Mhm,” Maria hums, and you can’t tell if she’s suspicious or not by her tone alone. “True. I’ll just text you if anything interesting happens, okay? Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” You can’t help but laugh at her sudden hastiness, and soon enough she’s hanging up the phone with the claim that the team bus is there to take her to the hotel.

As your call with Maria is in the early afternoon, you have a while to wait before all night life in Florida begins, so any updates will take time to roll in. You know this, and yet you can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.

Distracting yourself by shopping helps, as does meeting up with a few of the WAG’s for a late lunch. You’re able to put your anxiety in the back of your mind for the rest of the day, and as the sun sets you pull back up to Andrei’s house and let yourself in with the spare key given to you, mind at peace as you float around his living space in preparation for bed.

You almost considered his place your home now, rather than your actual apartment. You’ve been spending so much time here, with him and also alone as everything with him seems to be going so good… When you settle into his bed, wearing one of Andrei’s large t-shirts and boxers, you check your phone one last time for any updates.

There’s a few Instagram notifications, one or two emails from your university, only one message in the groupchat with the WAG’s, and a text from Andrei which is what you zero in on first.

Settled in the hotel now. Leg is hurting, so I’m going to bed early tonight. Text you tomorrow, okay?

There’s no silly emojis, no indication of any emotion in his text, and yet you read the message with a smile, insecurities officially gone. His teammates are going out tonight, not him, and you don’t have to worry about Maria texting you later because there would be nothing to update you on.

How could you have ever doubted him?

You fall asleep peacefully, unbeknownst to the fact that long after midnight, your phone begins blowing up with silent notifications from Maria. She does, in fact, send you updates of her night out, but not updates you’ll smile at when you wake up the next day.

Sunlight filtered through closed eyes is what has you slowly awakening to the world of consciousness, and you stretch your arms with a yawn before reaching for your phone first thing. It’s hot to the touch, and at first you attribute that to it being stuck under your pillow the entire night, but upon unlocking the screen you discover that that is not the case.

WTF did you and Andrei break up?????

He’s here with the rest of the guys and he’s highkey flirting with some randos???

I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were done w/ him!

You’re prettier than them btw. I snuck a few pics

Several more messages from Maria have taken over your inbox, those are just the first you see. It takes your brain a minute to catch-up, but when it finally does you’re sitting up with bated breath as you tap on one of the images she sent.

It’s definitely Andrei—you’d know his face anywhere. He is, in fact, surrounded by girls in the picture, his arm wrapped around the waist of a gorgeous blonde with a drink in his other hand, and it’s so reminiscent of the way he holds you at clubs that you know, you know immediately that this is what you meant to him all along.

The affectionate name-calling, gentle hand-holding and constant touching… You thought he looked back at you like you hung the moon, but now you’re realizing that maybe you were just projecting the reflection of your own starstruck eyes instead.

You sit up in bed, hand pressed to your forehead as a sudden headache rips through your brain. What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Remembering that you’re actually in this man’s house, in his clothes, too, has you jumping up like you’ve been burned, and you quickly exit the bedroom to collapse on the couch instead.

“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself, in disbelief as you click through more of the images sent to you from last night. There’s no denying to yourself that he was with these women, all while supposedly having a significant other waiting for him at home.

There’s no one to witness the slow breakdown of your sanity, and you can’t even cry because you’re so in shock about what you’re seeing

Is this real? Are you real? Is this really happening?

It’s almost like a switch in your brain goes off, and very quickly you drop your phone. You take a deep breath, you bury your raging emotions, and you stand up from the couch to start your day.

You refuse to allow yourself to break down now. Not when you still haven’t spoken to him. At the very least you’ll wait until you have an explanation…

To confront him on your very strong feelings you’ve been doing your best to ignore until now, because they’re too real in the wake of this discovery to just vanish away like you’ve done before.

You need to know where you stand with him. Truly, because these pictures you can’t stop thinking about? It’s too much. You can’t pretend it doesn’t feel like thousands of little knives stabbing your heart repeatedly even if it all means nothing to him.

Everything goes back to normal. Everything is fine. You never saw those pictures, ignored Maria's continuing calls and acted as if your world wasn’t suddenly tilted on its axis.

Andrei doesn’t text you at all throughout the day, which can probably be attributed to preparation of game three, but all you can think about are the girls he might be texting.

Because he certainly isn’t texting you.

Game three results in a loss, a bad one, and it would pain you to see the reactions on their faces filtered through the television if you weren’t so numb.

He still doesn’t text you. Doesn’t call, either, and Maria eventually gives up on trying to reach you as game four approaches.

The impending doom of Andrei bares down on you like a vice, slowly strangling you in the screaming silence of his house you still remain in. Maybe this is something you should have seen coming because it isn’t the first time he’s gone radio silent, you just assumed he was busy—because that’s what he told you.

You’re starting to think that maybe you shouldn’t have listened.

You love him though, right? That’s why you believed him? That’s what you’re feeling right now, why it’s like you can barely breathe when you think of his smile or the way he’s betrayed you so?

The Panthers sweep the Hurricanes, a complete four-game victory that sends Andrei and the rest of the team licking their wounds all the way back to North Carolina. You don’t watch the fourth game with anyone but yourself and a bottle of wine while catching up on homework for one of your classes.

Becoming so close to Andrei meant you became close to the rest of his teammates too, to the point where you’d consider some of them your good friends, so seeing their faces broadcasted live after the final goal is devastating to see.

Not as devastating as the text you receive, though, in the midst of trying to figure out what to say to him the moment he steps foot inside his house.

I won’t be home tonight, heading straight out with some of the younger guys. I will see you tomorrow

Well. You can’t say you’re surprised. You’re willing to bet money he’s out sleeping with some random girl whose name he won’t remember the next day. Instead of letting the anxiety take over, anger takes its place instead.

And boy do you run with it because anger is so much better than feeling powerless. It simmers in your blood, a wildfire settling low in your stomach until you’re practically shaking while waiting for Andrei to walk through the front door the next day.

When he finally does, you’re so mad you’re numb. Your anger has turned you into a ghost, an attempt at protecting your fragile heart from more heartbreak likely to fall upon you the moment he tries to charm you back into his good graces.

Once he spots you sitting on the couch, he smiles in greeting. It’s soft, and you’d like to say affectionate, but you no longer can tell how deep his feelings run for you.

Clearly, not deep enough.

“Kisa,” He says. “How are you? I’m sorry I was out late.”

“It’s fine,” You respond tightly. Andrei doesn’t seem to notice, merely nods before walking past you to the kitchen. You follow him silently, trying to figure out how to phrase your next words.

You end up settling on a subtle approach. “I’m sorry about the games… I know it must’ve sucked having to watch.”

He scoffs immediately, mutters something you don’t catch but still doesn’t turn around to face you as he rummages through his fridge. “It definitely was not fun to sit there, no.” He replies.

“Is that why you didn’t come back last night? You were coping with the loss?” You’re hoping your strong reference to his late-night escapades will spark something in him, but alas you still seem to be wrong and all he does is cast you a furtive glance before going back to his business.

God, you were just going to have to wring this out of him, weren’t you?

“Andrei,” You start, taking a deep breath. He still doesn’t stir. “Andrei, I know.”

Finally, he stops. Pauses mid-motion of whatever he’s doing, and his shoulders seem to tense in preparation of your foreboding words.

“There’s other girls, right? It’s not just me?” Your voice is already wobbling, and you’re glad he’s still refusing to face you because your eyes are slowly filling with tears, the agony of these last few days catching up to you.

This is when Andrei finally turns around. He meets your eyes last after scanning up and down your body; the clothes you’re wearing that aren’t his, your nails digging into your hands, and finally the bright flush of your face as you struggle not to explode.

“What do you mean?” Is what he says, looking at you calculatingly.

“Don’t play dumb with me, ‘Drei,” You whisper, invisible wires constricting around your throat as you force yourself to continue speaking. “Maria told me. She saw you. And you lied to me.”

Andrei doesn’t speak. He just stares, fingers clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide if he should approach you or not. After what seems like hours of silent battle, he replies, starting out by saying your name like a warning. “She… Maria had no right to tell you that.”

“Because I’m not actually your girlfriend, right?” Your response is immediate, and it hurts him if the flinch on his face is anything to go by. “You don’t owe me anything. Not a title, responsibility. You never promised me any of that so sleeping with other girls is perfectly okay.”

Everything you’re saying is true but it’s all wrong the way you’re looking at each other. Tears are now openly streaming down your cheeks and Andrei hasn’t moved since the moment you opened your mouth.

“Nothing to say?” It’s defeated, your entire demeanor as your shoulders sag and you fight the urge to collapse. “Yeah. I—I wouldn’t know what to say either.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrei whispers, and he doesn’t fight you which makes it all the more devastating. Everything you’re saying is true and it’s still all so wrong but he isn’t fighting you and wow, you’re really about to lose him, aren’t you?

“I think the worst part of this for me is that I actually let myself fall in love with you.” It’s your last-ditch effort of getting something out of him, anything that proves this isn’t completely one-sided on your end.

Andrei looks gutted at that. But he steels his resolve, his eyes go cold and he clenches his jaw as you try, one last time, to reach him.

“Do you love me?”

He’s staring at the wall behind you. No words fall from the lips you’ve kissed a thousand times until they finally do, and this is when you come to the realization that you’re ruined. You won’t ever look at another man the same because Andrei will forever haunt you in everything that you are and what you do.

“No. I don’t.”

You don’t put up much of a fight after that. You wave your white flag and slip past him to grab the small bag you’d packed earlier in preparation.

Andrei doesn’t move from his spot in the kitchen once. His face is tight, eyes dark and anguished as you drop his spare key on the counter. You look at him one last time, will him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t.

He never does—so you leave and you don’t look back.

It hurts worse because there really wasn’t a fight. There was no screaming, breaking glass, hurling insults at each other; it was a quiet acceptance of the end of a relationship that had no chance of lasting.

That’s what gets you. Not just because it’s over, but because he doesn’t love you like you love him.

You can’t believe you let yourself fall for it.

When you finally make it back to your apartment it feels like walking into an alternate reality, especially after an agonizing drive back full of nothing but silence and your thoughts.

You’ve practically lived with Andrei the last few months so much that you’ve forgotten you had a life before him. Maria comes to your mind immediately at that thought, and you can’t think of anything else you need more right now than your best friend.

Her phone only rings twice before she picks up. She says your name warily, likely because she hasn’t heard a word from you in two days.

“Hey,” You whimper, and you hate that you can tell how broken you sound. “Um, you were right. About Andrei. I… Talked to him about it. We’re done.”

There’s silence on the other end for several moments. Then:

“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I’m coming over, and I’m bringing the fattest bottle of wine known to man, okay?”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears.

“Don’t respond, you can’t say no. I’ll see you in a few!”

And, well, you do nothing but let her hang up as you stare at your blank lock screen for a minute. Something possesses you to try and freshen up even though it’s just Maria, so you make your way to your bathroom.

Opening the door, your eyes land on your reflection in the mirror, your tear-stained eyes the same color red as the lipstick you wore the first time you met him. The same red of your heart, too, as you feel the shattering of it now more than ever.

It all goes back to him. Everything about you, your identity as ‘his girl’ reducing you to someone who doesn’t exist without him.

Fuck you, Andrei, you want to yell. Fuck you and fuck everything you put me through.

As you furiously rub your eyes, you realize you don’t know who you are anymore. You let yourself be molded into an unfamiliar version of yourself, into someone just for Andrei to want to keep around.

The tears start again, and you’re left sniffling in the suffocating silence of your bathroom. The only person who knew you, the you now, is gone.

And suddenly, you find yourself alone.

Well… Not totally alone. “Fuck him!” Maria shouts after she breaks into your apartment (she has your spare key) after you’d collapsed onto your couch and refused to open the door. “Seriously, fuck him. You’re way too good for him.”

“Weren’t you the one who convinced me to sleep with him in the first place?” Is your weak rebuttal, muffled and almost imperceptible as your head is burrowed in a pillow.

Your friend tsks, likely waving her arms around in that expressive way she does. “Yes, well. I never claimed to see the future. But now we know him for the piece of shit he is!”

Maria is your closest friend, yes, but you also know her to be someone who tells you what you want to hear. Right now, you’re feeling vengeful and angry, so she’s feeding into those emotions to make you feel better.

You know, in two months time or however long it takes you to process this, when you start missing him and tiptoe around the idea of calling him, she’ll support you then, too.

Which probably isn’t what you need, but, whatever. You’re just grateful you have someone on your side.

“I need…” You start, not quite sure how to phrase what you’re wanting. “I need to forget.”

“A one nightstand type of forget or get so drunk you pass out type of forget?”

You wrinkle your nose at the thought of sleeping with someone so soon. As much as you hate it, you don’t think you’ll ever stop craving Andrei’s body.

No man ever could make you feel that good…

“Get drunk,” You say, quirking a small smile at the whoop she lets out. “I can’t fuck someone right now. At least not yet.”

“Yeah,” The blonde agrees, sighing almost wistfully. “I’d feel the same if I knew what his dick felt like.”

“Maria!” You shriek, throwing a spare pillow as hard as you can her way. It misses, but does the job of lightening the mood and keeps you giggling the rest of the night.

She does her job in making you forget, though. Makes you put on one of your shortest dresses and gets you drink after drink until you’re hunched over a toilet in the back of some bar gagging your stomach out.

You wake up the next day with the worst hangover ever, but Maria is fairing the same and somehow you consider it worth it. Maybe you can live your life again without him.

You’ve done it before, right?

And really, it’s ridiculous when you let yourself think about how you’d only been seeing the man for five months and he completely managed to send your world careening in that timespan. So, you don’t let yourself think about it. Instead, you live.

For yourself, for your friends, for your heart that won’t ever be full but feels a little bit better every time you wake up each day without Andrei next to you.

You graduate university with your bachelor’s and get a job that’s even better than your last, and you make a really good group of friends at said-job without Maria’s help (though she’ll always be your best). The summer passes by with melancholy laughter and gentle healing, and while your first love always remains in the back of your mind, you think about him less.

So much less that you lose track of time, not even realizing that October of twenty twenty-three is here and the NHL season is starting back up. You haven’t spoken to any of the WAG’s since you broke it off with Andrei, assuming you would no longer be welcome in the ‘clique’ and preferring to separate yourself from a group associated with someone who brought you so much pain, so there haven’t been any reminders about the new season from them.

The memories of him are fleeting. They’ll come to you at random times, and now that you’ve lived in the past yet again, you can forget about the end where Andrei is a distant thought but every time his name is brought up it squeezes your heart so much you can’t breathe.

You’re doing better. Truly, you are. You’d stopped crying over him long ago, and you might have gone to class with swollen eyes and showed up to work despondent, but you’re working through it in your own way. Healing isn’t linear but you’re making progress slowly but surely.

One day, you wake up with a sudden determination to officially ‘get back out there’, per Maria’s words. There’s nothing spectacular about this day; it’s only mid-November, the weather in that awkward stage of autumn morphing into winter.

Maybe it’s because the night before you’d succumbed to the urge to search up the Hurricanes’ schedule, curious to when they’d be home and not.

It’s only a coincidence that they have a home game when you call your friends from work, asking if they’d like to go out after everyone gets off. It’s also a coincidence when you meet someone at said-bar you attend, and it’s absolutely insane how if you squint he kind of looks like Andrei.

Oh, but he’s so, so sweet… His name is Jack and he buys you and your friends drinks, keeps a respectful distance yet never strays far when you’re wrapped into another conversation. He asks for your number at the end of the night and you give it to him without hesitation, taking note of the way he creates your contact in his phone himself.

“You like cats?” He asks as he’s still typing away, and your breath catches in your throat because it’s a question that makes you think of the first night you met him. When you don’t respond, he gestures towards your keychain attached to the strap of your handbag.

“You have little kittens on your keychain. I think that’s what I’ll add to your name, yeah?” Jack laughs a little shyly, and it’s cute but you keep replaying kisa in your mind over and over in a Russian accent you never could quite imitate.

“Yeah, I do like cats,” You say, flushing at the sudden amusement in his eyes. “I like them a lot.”

Jack doesn’t waste any time texting you the next day, and the normalcy of it freaks you out a little. Where’s the anxiety? The stomach-dropping nerves that come with talking to someone new? The constant wondering if they like you or not?

It’s so safe and secure that it hurts, because it was never like that before.

Everyone in your life is so supportive, though, but that only makes it worse because they can see how good this man is for you, but why can’t you? You feel like pulling your hair out when he texts you good morning and goodnight and sick to your stomach when he shows up during your lunch break with flowers.

However, there’s no one is more enthusiastic about Jack's new presence in your life than Maria.

“He’s a dream guy, honestly,” She swoons, kicking her feet back on her ottoman. “You’re so lucky. I would kill for a guy I met at a bar to be so smitten with me he shows up to my job with flowers.”

You hum in agreement, unable to come up with something to say. “He… Yeah, it’s nice, I guess.”

The blonde eyes you from where you’re curled up on her couch, deliberately avoiding her stare as you mindlessly watch whatever is on the TV. “You guess? He’s perfect!”

“On paper,” You retort, huffing slightly in frustration at yourself because why can’t you see what everyone else sees? “I don’t really know him.”

“Yet. You don’t really know him yet.” She helpfully points out. “Why don’t you want to give him a chance?”

“I… I do. I am giving him a chance. Maybe I’m just not feeling it.”

“He’s not Andrei, babe.”

You fight the powerful urge to scoff. I know, you want to scream. I know. That’s the problem.

Jack is too perfect for you. You want the ups and downs, the electrifying chemistry, the undeniable connection you’ve felt with no one else before. You crave the feeling of those past five months, of being with someone who lit you up to your very core.

It’s been almost eight months and you still can’t get him out of your head.

You give Jack a rightful chance, though, like everyone in your life is begging you to. You can’t bring yourself to end it because there really is nothing wrong, it’s a perfect getting-to-know-you stage which checks off all the boxes. It’s just that you don’t want normal because normal is boring.

You want chaos. And Andrei is chaos personified.

Unbeknownst to you, Maria is still very good friends with a lot of the WAG’s and talks about you when they ask. They miss you, it turns out, but your friend never tells you this in fear of sending you into a depressive spiral that tends to happen when they’re brought up. They’re ecstatic to hear that your life seems to be going so well after the breakup, especially after seeing Andrei’s reaction to it all.

This is something Maria doesn’t tell you, either. She’s such a good friend, protecting your heart like that. Andrei did not come out of his house after you ended it the same person; he was a little darker, a little angrier, frustrated in a way that suggested nothing could be done to fix it.

It doesn’t help that he couldn’t take it out by playing hockey, because he wasn’t cleared to play until the end of October, a month into the regular season.

He never admits his sour mood is partly to blame you for. Not that it’s your fault—he’s the one who fucked up, not you.

Never you.

Maria knows all of this and still gives him the cold shoulder for his treatment of you. None of the girls were very happy after finding out while his teammates just gave him awkward pats on the back. It doesn’t stop him from finding out about you, though, and what you’re up to.

The WAG’s talk. They’re gossip machines, and while normally he hates them for it because he always has to watch what he says around them, this time he’s thankful because they tell their husbands and boyfriends everything.

He’s at Martin and his girlfriend, Nykki’s, apartment watching their cavapoo, Gigi, when he finds out you’re seeing someone new. They’re heatedly talking about something when they walk in and don’t see him on the floor cuddling Gigi, so he doesn’t interrupt.

“I mean, I’m not surprised, but wow. It certainly took her a while to move on, didn’t it?”

He hears a smack, assumes Nykki has hit him on the arm like she typically does when he pisses her off. “She loved him, of course it took time!”

“Ow!” He hisses, though it’s clearly in jest. “Well, yeah, but like… It’s been months. And it’s not like she’s in contact with any of us anymore to remind her of him.” Andrei notes the sourness in his teammate’s voice, feels his heart drop because he thinks he knows who they’re talking about, now.

“Still,” Nykki replies. “I was so sad after my first heartbreak. They take a while to heal from, especially when it’s not a clean ending. It’s no secret how Andrei treated her.” She’s frowning when she continues. “I wish I could give her a hug, but I get it. I wouldn’t want to see any of us, either.”

Martin sighs. “I get it, too. I sure do miss the wine she’d bring though. She had the best fucking taste, ever.”

“Of course you only miss her for her alcohol.”

Andrei decides to clear his throat at this moment. When he does so, Martin and Nykki whip their heads towards him on the floor, surprise and guilt decorating their faces when they see him holding Gigi rather dejectedly.

He starts by saying your name, even surprises himself when it comes out biting and, dare he say it… Jealous? “She’s seeing someone?”

Martin and Nykki share a glance. Gigi chooses this as the time to leap up from his lap and run towards her parents where Martin happily picks her up. “I’m going to go take her out. Thanks for watching, ‘Drei!” He quickly flees the apartment, and Nykki says something under her breath as she glares after him.

They both know Andrei isn’t letting this go.

“Do you remember Maria, her friend? Works in the Hurricanes’ marketing department?” She eventually says, joining him on the floor.

“The blonde one? Yes,” He replies, and even though there are many blondes working for the team he knows exactly who she’s talking about. She’s your best friend, after all, and he knows everything about you.

Like how he knows you will never get over him. Conceited? Yes, but he had (has) you wrapped around his finger.

“Well, she talks to a lot of us still, despite everything that happened. And she tells us things.” Nykki pauses, almost like she’s scared to go on.

“Things like?” Andrei inquires. “How she is doing? Who she is doing?”

She glares at him then, eyes narrowing into slits. “Not that you really have a right to know, but yes.”

His fingers dig into his palms and his jaw cramps with how much he’s trying to keep from exploding.

“So, she’s seeing some guy now?” He scoffs like the very idea is incredulous. As if whatever pathetic excuse of a man you’re talking to could ever compare to him.

“She has a right to move on, Andrei. You should too. You ruined her.”

That fact remains true, but he still has no desire to ever let you go as he deliberately ignores her advice, well-meaning as it is.

How ruined could you really be if you’re already with somebody else?

Unfortunately, it’s impossible to run into you because you avoid him like the plague. You know everywhere he and his teammates frequent so you stopped showing up long ago, and he’s pretty sure you keep a several hundred-foot radius between you and PNC Arena at all times. He doesn’t blame you, but it pisses him off to know he can’t easily find you.

Christmas passes, you spend it with Jack and Andrei spends it with his Russian teammates. The New Year arrives just as quickly, and as he locks lips with some random girl at the party he’s at he thinks of you. Wonders who you’re with, if you’re kissing that guy Nykki told him about.

You actually flew back home to spend it with your parents, giving Jack some weak excuse about how you weren’t able to see them over the holidays.

North Carolina winter is in full force as February of twenty twenty-four rolls around, and your life remains inexplicably boring while Andrei’s picks up. The Hurricanes are finally having a redemption arc after their awful first-half of the season, and thus are heading out to celebrate far more often than normal.

They’re more daring in where they choose to go, too, wanting to branch out of their norms, because why not?

This is really unfortunate for you. Horrifying, actually, because you’re out with your friends, Jack, and his friends too when the team comes strolling in. Eyes instantly shoot their way, aweing at the miniature celebrities in their own right for finally bringing a good professional sports team to NC.

The moment Andrei steps foot in the establishment you know. Your skin catches fire, your ears ring, and your heart thunders inside your chest because only man can set off your senses so powerfully.

You look away from Jack - who thankfully doesn’t notice, he’s sucked into a conversation with one of his friends - and find Andrei approaching the bar with Martin and Seth. He hasn’t noticed you yet and you try to keep that from happening as you sink down into your seat, flashing your friends an exaggerated smile when they eye you curiously.

You’re unable to hide for long, though, when a song bursts from the speakers and sends everyone into an excited frenzy, your group included as they crowd the dance.

Luckily you’re able to escape that particular rally and wave Jack off when he asks you if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” You shout over the bass rattling your eardrums. “Just letting my drink settle a bit.”

He doesn’t question you, merely nods and smiles before disappearing somewhere with his friends. Now, you’re alone, and you can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing because now you have a perfect view of Andrei and his teammates leaning against the bar, looking far too good as they do so.

You can’t keep your eyes off him. You never could, especially can’t now as you soak up every little change your eyes can see. He has a scruff now, a sexy five o’clock shadow that you know firsthand how it feels between your thighs. His hair is a little longer, too—you wonder if it’s still as soft as you remember.

Jack suddenly appears from a break in the crowd and oh, yeah, fuck you can’t be thinking about your ex like this, can you? No, you aren’t officially with Jack, but it’s still wrong. He likes you so much, you know this, and you… Don’t hate him?

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you bemoan to yourself, torn between the angel on your left and the devil on your right that don’t give you the chance to decide because you feel eyes baring into your skull, begging you to notice them. Your entire being freezes, stuck in between some weird limbo as you lock eyes with Andrei for the first time in months.

There’s no one else but you and him as neither one of you refuses to break first, and you only lose eye contact when a group of people walks between you. When they’re gone and you’re able to freely look again, you realize he’s gone from his spot at the bar. All his teammates are still there, and they’ve now spotted you too.

Would it be wrong to call an uber and just tell Jack you felt sick?

Your name is suddenly being whispered into your ear, and you would have flinched if the sound of his voice didn’t have you relaxing back into your seat. You refuse to look up at first, because if you look at him so close to you again you’ll fold.

“Andrei,” You greet, quietly. “How are you?” You still aren’t looking at him, choosing to swirl around the drink in your hand instead.

“I’m good,” He replies, so close you can feel the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You lean into it almost subconsciously until he’s sliding into the booth next to you, pressing the two of you together. “How are you, my kisa?”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You retort, finally meeting his eyes to cast him a withering glare.

“No?” Andrei reaches a hand up to brush some stray hairs from your face. So delicate his touch, he trails his hand down your cheek, your neck, and down your waist until landing on your thigh. You don’t stop him, either.

“That’s funny. I could have sworn that you’re mine.”

“I’m not,” You squirm under his touch, unable to push him away. “I haven’t been in months. Wasn’t ever ‘yours’ to begin with. You made sure of that.”

Andrei doesn’t appreciate the call out. The way his face twists is mean and you know whatever he’s going to say will hurt. “Right,” He scoffs, is snide with the way he tones it. “But you’re his?”

He gestures towards Jack, who thankfully is enraptured in a tense game of pool on the other side of the room. You don’t question how he already knows that’s who you’re with.

“I’m not anyone’s, Andrei.”

“Yes you are. You might have thought that because we haven’t seen each other we are just over?” He leans into you, doesn’t let you break eye contact as he gets so close your noses touch. “No. I bet me being so close to you right now has you soaked, and you want to know how I know that?”

Your throat is tight as you swallow. You can’t look away as you move to shake your head, but strange, because it comes out as a nod instead.

“You’re not ‘over me’, malyshka. You’ll never be over me. You love me.”

His grin is feral, his words biting as they cut through you at such a vulnerable level it has you flinching back from his touch immediately.

“Oh, fuck you, Andrei,” You hiss, an angry sheen of tears starting to gloss over your eyes. “Fuck you. I don’t love you anymore—especially not now.”

You move to slip around him but his arm shoots out and stops you in your tracks, leaving you frozen as he stands to tower over you.

“Careful,” He murmurs. “Your boy over there might think something’s wrong. Maybe I should introduce myself, make sure he knows I would never dare hurt you.”

“You don’t have to touch me to hurt me. You did that plenty without having to lift a finger.” You retort. “Now, get out of my way. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“But what if I want to talk to you?” You really hate the height difference between the two of you right now because it takes no effort at all for him to slide a muscular arm around your waist and keep you glued to his side. “Maybe I have missed you.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” You mutter, but he ignores you as he begins to lead you away from the booth you were in before. “My friends will wonder where I am if I’m not at the booth when they get back.”

“Not worried about your boy?” He mocks, noting the way you don’t mention Jack at all. “They won’t have enough time to notice.”

You narrow your eyes at his insinuating words as he stops at the bar, waving down the bartender who comes immediately. “His name is Jack.” You mutter, thinking he can’t hear you. He continues talking, ignoring you, and you’re unable to hear him over the noise so you don’t bother trying to understand what he’s asking for.

Soon enough there’s a drink sliding across the bar counter and Andrei pushes it in front of you. You eye the glass, making note of the fact that the liquid is red. “Vodka cranberry,” He confirms what you’re already thinking.

You flash back to the night you first met and suddenly you want nothing to do with the drink in front of you. “No thanks, I don’t want it.” You say, trying to step away.

You don’t get far, though, because he’s grabbing your wrist and tugging you rather harshly back to him. “Drink it,” He demands, watches your eyes and the way they dart from his face and back to the glass nervously. He sighs, then, like he’s realized something and lets go of your wrist only to land back on your hip. “It’s… Nothing is wrong with it. I didn’t touch it.”

He thinks you’re worried about being drugged? You almost laugh but manage to hold it back, because of course he doesn’t remember that this is the first drink he ever got you.

Your heart beats a little faster as you concede, finally picking up the drink and taking a tiny sip. He waits for your reaction like he’s the one who made it. “It’s good,” You finally say, licking the sweetness from your lips.

Andrei watches you, your eyes, your lips, everything about as time seems to stop and it’s just you and him, like it’s supposed to be.

You haven’t changed all that much, and you can tell he likes that. Your hair is a little shorter, you’re perhaps a little thinner now that you’re not on a college student diet, but you’re still you.

Andrei hasn’t changed either. You’re the same yet so different, and it’s incredibly difficult resisting the temptation to fall back into old habits.

“I’ve missed you,” He admits quietly, and you think it’s sincere this time. You wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t standing so close together.

Your heart thunders in your chest. You might be sweating out of nerves, or maybe it’s just the club. Your hands itch to touch him, and with more alcohol in you thanks to the cranberry you don’t stop Andrei as he succumbs to his urges first and uses one, large hand to cup your cheek.

You shudder as he caresses the skin, his thumb landing on your bottom lip and stroking it lightly. “Andrei,” You breathe, pupils blown wide. “You can’t—we can’t…”

He tilts his head, reminiscent of a dog. “Why not? You are not single?” He has you. He knows you know he does. You aren’t nearly as committed to Jack as much as you’d like yourself to be.

“I can’t do that to him,” You try weakly, already feeling your will bending to the persuasiveness of his touch.

His head lowers, hand remaining on your cheek as he brushes your lips together. You crave it, you realize, and move to fully push your mouths together but he’s pulling back before you get the chance.

“Go to the bathroom.” He says. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Will you?” You ask, the double-meaning clear as you stare at each other, neither willing to break.

Andrei’s face is unreadable. You can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing as his hands land on your hips and he turns you around in the direction of the restrooms. “Go,” He taps your ass, nudging you forward. “I’ll be there.”

You give in this time. You’re aware of the astronomically bad decision you’re making as you cut the line, faking a sick stomach and whispering ‘sorry’ over and over again in your head as the nice ladies let you through.

When you close the door you immediately make your way to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, and with mussed hair and smudged lipstick you should be feeling ashamed.

All you feel is anticipation, though. For Andrei’s hands on your body, for his mouth to kiss all the spots he’s missed.

Several minutes go by and the knocks on the bathroom door become more frequent. You think he’s bailed on you - it certainly wouldn’t be the first time - but then you hear his voice outside.

“Da, yes, she’s in there,” A pause. “She’s my girlfriend, she needs me.”

Your breath catches in your throat, turning to face the door as he knocks and can hear his voice more clearly.

Yes, you do need him.

“Kisa,” He says, slightly muffled but you feel the effect he has on you is all the same. “I’m here. Let me in?” He’s almost begging, and you quickly unlock the door as he pushes through.

His smile is mischievous as he closes the door behind him. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He purposefully raises his voice, shows faux concern and plays it up in case anyone is listening outside.

“You’re so dramatic,” You say, pulling him down to you by the collar of his shirt. Now that you’re alone you don’t bother pretending you don’t want him as much as you do. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Andrei relents immediately, closing the distance between the two of you. Both his hands come up to the sides of your head to keep you in place, tilting you in whatever way he likes. His lips are just as soft as you remember, and your bodies move together like they were never apart.

He’s demanding as he begins pushing you back, crowding you against the tiny bathroom wall. His words from outside come back to you suddenly, and you break the kiss to catch a breath as his lips begin a trail across your cheeks. “Girlfriend?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I had to get them to let me through somehow.” It’s not what you want to hear but you lose the urge to fight him on it as he reaches your neck and begins sucking little hickeys onto the sensitive skin. Your head falls back with a sigh, uncaring of your hair catching whatever germs might lie on the wall.

You let Andrei do what he wants to your neck for a few moments, then when the urge to taste his lips comes again you grab the back of his hair and pull him up to you. He goes willingly, and you moan into his mouth as he continues to push back against you so hard you can feel his dick through his jeans.

He pulls back much too soon for your taste, and you try to follow but suddenly one of the hands holding your head comes down to wrap around your throat, restricting your breath as he pushes you back. You go to speak, but his other hand is leaving your face to unbutton his jeans one-handed.

You watch, eyes heavy-lidded. “‘Drei?” The weight on your neck is comfortable, so you don’t bother moving as he shoves the rest of his jeans along with his boxers down his thick thighs.

“You want to talk to other guys?” He starts with a bite. “Then you can remember the taste of my cock in your mouth while you do it.”

Your blood pressure skyrockets as the hand on your throat leaves to pull your hair back out of your face, grasps it like a rope, and pushes you down to your knees.

You’re at eye-level with his cock as it bobs in front of you, angry and swollen with beads of pre-cum leaking from the tip. He stares down at you expectantly, has to hold back a groan at your wide-eyed gaze looking so innocent.

As your lips wrap around his tip he’s reminded of the fact that no, you are not innocent. He made you that way. Fucked you like no man ever could. Ruined you for everyone but him. His feelings for you are complicated, but he does understand one thing…

Andrei doesn’t want you, not really. But he hates to think about you with somebody else.

Your tongue is masterful in its work as it swirls around his head, and once you get comfortable you begin going down. His head falls back and this time he doesn’t hold back his noises as your warm, wet mouth envelopes him.

“Missed this mouth,” He grunts as you suck. “Like it much better when you can’t speak.”

It’s insulting and degrading, yet it doesn’t fail to turn you on as you squirm and rub your thighs together in hopes it’ll give you the friction you need.

His hand in your hair soon starts pulling, sliding your mouth forward and back in increasing motions as he gets closer. He’s unabashedly groaning now, and you can see his abs clench when you suck a certain way.

Suddenly, you have the urge to have him fall apart before you. Maybe it’s revenge, wanting to see him lose control for you like you’ve done for him so many times; you tilt your head, using your tongue to stroke the sensitive underside of his cock and that has him jerking into you.

“Fuck,” He hisses. “Good girl. Just like that.” The praise goes directly to your clit, and you whimper as it throbs with no relief.

Despite being apart for almost a year, you still know what every twitch of his body means. You know he’s close because the hand in your hair is gripping you tighter, you can feel the steadily increasing tempo of his heartbeat through his pulsing cock, and his thighs are ever so slightly trembling underneath your hands.

You want him to come in your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more; your efforts increase and you dig your nails into his skin to hear him hiss and as his thrusts pick up he starts hitting the back of your throat.

Internally thanking your lacking gag reflex, you don’t flinch as he picks up speed, now blatantly using your mouth for his own pleasure with little regard for your comfort. “Shit, baby,” He blurts, desperate. “I’m gonna cum.” You hum in response, the vibrations of the sound finally throwing him over the edge.

Andrei throws his head back for a final time, one long groan emulating from his unfairly sculpted chest as his cum hits the back of your throat. You’ve always loved the taste of him and this time is no different as you suck him deeper, not wanting to waste a drop.

He takes a few moments to collect himself and in that timeframe your ears slowly stop ringing and you come back to reality, finding that your knees ache from being pressed into the floor and there are loud voices coming from outside the bathroom door.

As you move to stand, he too seems to remember where you’re at and uses both arms to pull you the rest of the way until you’re back to standing. You swipe your hair out of your face as his thumb comes to your lip, wiping away a stray drop of his release.

Despite the post-orgasmic clarity, he looks at you with softness and something else swimming in his dark eyes. “You’re still good at that,” He states. “Been sucking anyone else off?” His words are quiet but every bit threatening as you note the possessiveness in his tone.

“No,” You gasp as his thumb pushes its way into your mouth. “Just you. Only you,”

“That’s right,” He says. “Just me. Only me.” Then he’s spinning you around, fingers remaining pressed into your mouth while the other trails up your spine until he’s gripping the back of your neck. “Hear them outside?” He asks.

The ‘them’ he’s referring to, you realize, are the voices outside the bathroom. They’re much louder now, a few knocks mixed in, and you wonder with slight panic how a manager hasn’t come to unlock the door yet.

“They sound very angry, don’t they?” That same hand on the back of your neck strokes your skin, slowly working its way down to your waistband. “So we better make it quick. Hands on the wall, kisa,”

You know the moment he pulls down your pants he’ll find you to be unabashedly soaking. Despite claiming to be in a hurry, he takes his time working open the button of your jeans, grazing the skin above your panties before ever so slowly sliding them down your legs.

“Andrei,” You hiss, impatient. “Hurry up!” As the hand in your mouth retreats, you realize you’re both needy and nervous, an overwhelming combination.

He only laughs. “Someone is needy,” He mocks, holding your hips in place when you try wiggling against him. “Patience.” Leaning into your ear he murmurs this, staying this way as he fully slides your jeans past your knees.

Andrei sneaks his hand in between your thighs, something resembling a growl rumbling from his chest when his fingers find your dripping folds, feeling how you throb for him. “Missed this pussy even more,” He breathes, lubricating his fingers with your slick before slowly circling your clit. Your arms shake from where they hold you up and it’s a battle to keep yourself from collapsing.

“You are just made for me, aren’t you?”

You’re so wet you practically suck him in as he guides his dick to your entrance, and he wastes no preamble as he pushes in. If he thought your mouth was heaven after so much time apart, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him in so deep doesn’t even compare. His hands are digging into your hips as he ruts into you fully with one thrust, panting as your warmth contracts around him.

“Still so fucking tight,” He marvels like he can’t believe it, like it’s a dream you feel even better than when he replays the memories of you on repeat. “You been waiting for me?” He’s not expecting a response as his rhythm picks up, finding a familiar pace for the both of you that has him swearing under his breath and you struggling not to shout your pleasure to the rooftops.

“God,” You cry out when the head of his cock directly hits your g-spot, your hips jerking up so hard you would have fallen if it weren’t for Andrei holding you up. “Fuck, Andrei, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Andrei laughs, a sound that would have been more menacing if he also wasn’t gasping for air. “Already?” He mocks. “I barely touched you, baby,”

You don’t have to touch me, it’s on the tip of your tongue waiting to be blurted out. You don’t have to touch me for me to be on my knees for you. The words are ready, but instead all that comes out is a moan and maybe that’s for the best because he probably wouldn’t respond as well as he does in your dreams.

He’s unaware of your internal dilemma as he leans over you, pressing his clothed chest to your back. “Gotta be fast,” He reminds you, as if you’d forgotten. “You ready?”

“No, I—I can’t,” Because you don’t want this to be over. You don’t want to cum because he’ll follow you right after and then when clarity hits he’ll leave you again and you’ll be back to square one.

“Yes, you can” He croons. “I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you, I’m right here.” You want to sob as one of his hands leaves your hip and finds the junction of your bodies, gentle fingers prodding your pussy spread-wide around him until he finds your clit and rubs.

Your body is trembling and you can’t tell if you’re trying to move towards him or away, but it doesn’t matter anyways because he has you trapped between the wall and his body and the unrelenting pace of his hips slamming into you.

You have a sudden urge to look him in the eyes before you come undone by his cock and his fingers, so you crane your head to the side and watch him watch you. His hair is damp from sweat at the corners of his hairline, his lips slightly open as he pants and you think you spot him lick his lips when he catches you staring. You go to say something but he swoops down, catching your mouth with his own and promptly shuts you up.

Andrei doesn’t relent in his motions despite the uncomfortable position, not letting you break from his lips by removing his hand at your hip and gripping your face to keep you right here. He owns you, at this point, mind, body, and soul as your lungs beg for breath while your clit throbs beneath his fingers and oh, oh, there it is and you’re gone—

You feel the rough pads of his fingers bullying your clit but you don’t really focus on it until now, how the calloused ridges carelessly sweep over you with no semblance of relief and only when you body abruptly freezes does he part from you, but only slightly, leaving a hair’s width of space between your lips. “Beautiful,” He says, under his breath so quietly you don’t hear him as your bones catch fire and your brain short-circuits.

Heat sears you from the inside-out and you do nothing but endure as Andrei rocks you through it. There’s tears of ecstasy streaming down your face, you’re sure of it now, and you think he’s wiping them from your cheeks but you can’t open your eyes enough to check.

It takes a few minutes, but once your heart stops racing you can hear your favorite voice swearing behind you and only then do you comprehend him still moving inside you, but before you can whine at the sensitivity he’s stilling with a long, drawn-out groan.

You don’t dare speak first, nor are you the first to move. The air around you is stagnant with tension as you rest your head on your arms, breathing deeply to catch your breath. What does this mean? You’re spiraling already and it’s only been minutes since your desperate fuck in this bathroom.

Eventually, Andrei moves first. He slides his softened dick from you with a hiss and you feel his cum trickling out without him there to keep it plugged in. Wrinkling your nose at the feeling of having to walk around with wet inner thighs now, you slowly stand up as his hands fall from your body. You slide your panties and jeans back up the rest of your legs, ignoring the uncomfortable sensitivity of being covered once again.

Neither of you speaks a word. You want to cry suddenly, and this time not from pleasure. “What did we just do?” You manage to choke out, your voice so hoarse you have to clear it. He’s clearly planning on just leaving without a word but you’re not going to let him.

You stare at him expectantly. He’s turned around so all you have in your view is his slide profile, clearly struggling with what to say as his jaw clenches tightly.

“Nothing,” He finally says, and he might as well just fucking stab you in the back. “We did nothing. You’re going to go back out there and pretend nothing happened because it didn’t.”

Oh, he makes you so angry. You can’t believe you’d forgotten that. “You’re serious?” You know he is but you don’t want to believe it.

Andrei meets your glassy eyes and you wish you could read him like he so easily can read you. He looks as conflicted as the day you walked out of his house for the last time, like he has so many words to say but refuses to let them fall from his lips. Just like then, you know this rendezvous means more to him than just a meaningless hookup.

If only he’d admit it…

He exhales a shaky breath as another loud knock disturbs you. “We need to go.” He dodges your question just like he dodges every issue in his life, especially in regards to you. “Come on, kisa.”

“You can’t just call me that, after—after this,” You hiss as he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the door. You panic on the inside as he unlocks it because once you leave this dirty sanctuary you know your problems will only get worse.

Strange, how Andrei manages to make everything worse despite making you feel so good.

As if your emotions don’t matter to him (they really don’t), he flashes you a grin as he drags you behind him, past the angry horde of people who, now that you think about it, definitely know you were fucking. “I know you like it.” Spoken so simply, so plain, you hate that he’s right.

You’ll always like it. Always love him. For as long as you’re hung up over him it will always come back to bite you in the ass and he knows this too.

It’s why, without shame, his arm is curled possessively around your waist as he leads you through the crowd of people. Your friends, Jack, don’t even cross your mind as he does so.

“Go find your friends,” He soon leans down to whisper in your ear. “Then find Jack. Tell him you felt sick and had to use the bathroom.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You snap, purposefully antagonizing him.

Andrei merely raises a brow at you. “You can always stay with me, with my cum dripping down your legs, and explain to everyone how you missed me so much you couldn’t stay away.”

You want to hit him. You almost do, but he continues before you actually go through with it.

“I wonder what Jack would say?” Of course he was listening to you earlier. He ignored you then, of course, but he listened.

And yeah, okay, you get it. Not a good idea to let everyone you know see you with him. He doesn’t want his friends to see him with you, either.

“Trying to get rid of me?” You ask, intending to sound sarcastic but it comes off as more insecure than you wanted it to.

You know he is, but you can’t help but ask for confirmation. Maybe it would help you move on to hear how little he actually cares for you.

“I don’t think I could get rid of you if I tried,” He replies. You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “You’ll never get rid of me though.”

He’s right, again. You hate so much that he is because you both know you’ll be crawling back the moment he calls.

You want to cry again as his arm leaves your waist, the absence of his heat leaving you shivering.

Andrei looks at you for a long time, just appraising. He tilts his head like he doesn’t know what to think, but then he spots something behind you and starts backing up.

“I will see you again someday, kisa.” He winks at you, and then he’s gone.

Someone behind you taps your shoulder while speaking into your ear, a voice you recognize as one of the girls you came with. You should probably focus, banish Andrei from your mind, but you don’t.

You strain your neck, watching for him through the crowd. He’s back at the bar with his friends, his teammates you once knew.

He’s laughing at something one of them said. Like he wasn’t just with you, fucking you against the bathroom walls.

“Are you okay?” Your friend behind you asks, the one thing from her you do catch.

“Yeah,” You say, swallowing despite the dryness in your throat. Andrei is talking to more people now, girls that have approached him, you notice. “I’m fine.”

He looks gorgeous under the lights. You catch his brilliant smile, the glimmer of his eyes, and those lips you can never get enough of. You soon lose sight of him amidst the throng of people, but his fleeting allure forever lingers...

Like a steadfast reminder, a haunting echo of what can never be.

A/N: Well, that was fun. I hurt my own feelings writing this but it was worth it. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please remember to reblog & comment!!

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hotchgirlsummer · 1 year

Note

Can u do a bimbo reader where her and Aaron get In a silly fight and she’s like “s’ok Aaron no one’s really stayed with me this long so I understand “ and he’s like 😖nooo

OH MY GOD YOU ARE A GENIUS 😭 can i give you aa little blurb for now before i write a full fic for this? also thank you for sending me a request

summary ⤷ a snippet from the first fight of hotch and bimbo!reader

pairing ⤷ aaron hotchner x fem!bimbo!reader

warnings ⤷ hotch getting mad (raising his voice), implications of walking out, previous bad relationships

word count ⤷ 781 words

title: fighting with a true love

"Why would you do that, Y/N?" Aaron's voice was a bit deeper, harsher than she was used to as he was frantically trying to rid his coat of the little designs she sewn in earlier in the day. Biting through her lip to prevent the tears from spilling uncontrollably. "I'm sorry, Aaron. I got confused with the two piles you had, didn't think these were the ones that had to be sent to cleaners, thought these were the old ones I could design," She clarified as she tried to be helpful to him by kneeling down on the floor and reaching for another suit jacket that had pink thread all over it to make a flower. When the clothing article was snatched away from her she looked up with glassy eyes and was surprised to see his furious-looking ones.

"Let me help you, Aar. It was an accident and I wanna make things right for you," She tried to reach out for him but could not hold out the gasp when he swatted her away.

"Can you please just stop doing anything? Just because you can a mess does not mean you should make one," That was the final blow that made her quietly sob as she sat at the ottoman by the window. Helpless and miserable as she watched him walk their bedroom and dumping all of the altered clothing article in a duffel bag that was peeking out beneath their bed.

"I'm heading out, maybe that will help resolve this issue."

In Aaron's mind, the connection was clear. He'd be heading out to find a seamstress that could reverse what she had done and head down to the dry cleaners and fetch the old suits that Y/N can design on.

For Y/N however, it meant that he had put up with her antics for too long and will be walking out on their relationship. Which, to be fair, surprised her as this has been her longest relationship ever. No one has ever lasted more than eight months with her and honestly she was surprised that Aaron's patience hadn't run out much earlier into their relationship.

"It's okay, Aaron," Her sniffly voice had him stopping right by the door as he was taken aback with how small she sounded; as he turned around his heart broke upon seeing her wiping her tears and revealed, "No one's really stayed with me this long so I understand."

And just like that what little pieces his heart was dissolved into nothing as he empathized with her. Immediately, he dropped the duffle bag and quickly strode over to where she was sitting. Thinking that he would part final words that would undoubtedly sting — as was her previous experience with former lovers — she scooted away from him to give him space.

But she was shocked when he gathered her in his arms and placed her in his lap as Aaron lovingly soothed him, "Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I never had any intentions of leaving you, of walking out on us."

Sobs were taking over her whole body as she cried and held onto him tightly, worried that if she were to ever lose him if she slipped out of his hold. "But I made you mad," She hiccupped in between words as the effects of her crying caught up with her, "And it makes sense you'd get tired of me. I know I'm a lot too handle, and not in a good way."

"Look at me, sweetheart," Tilting her chin up slightly so he could look into her eyes seriously to get across his point, and he wiped her tears until she could see him clearly, "I love you. I love every single part of you. There is absolutely nothing about you that I would change. I'm sorry I lost my cool on you, sweetheart. Raising my voice and being vague with my words was not the right approach on things."

Sniffling once more before feeling like she was all cried out, Y/N looked at him and smiled a little, "But you weren't just in the wrong! I was completely in the wrong. I'm sorry for not paying close attention to which clothes were the ones I could play around with."

"It's okay, sweetheart. I know it was an accident, but even so," He tilts his head toward the duffel bag that contained the suits that she had sewn in and smiled warmly at her, "You did a really good job decorating those suits, sweetheart."

Finally cracking a genuine smile she nuzzled herself into his neck and hummed, "How about you help me choose the design for the right suits?"

#aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner angst

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sokkadora · 5 months

Text

vanishing grace — mizu x fem!spider!reader

summary: breaking into to fowler’s castle wasn’t as easy as you’d originally thought, neither was the idea of being able to come out unscathed.

a/n: girl help! i cannot stop drawing my spidersona with mizu!!! also i think this is the longest fic ive ever written for a oneshot 💀 also this is not proofread so if there are mistakes forgive me 😭

wc: 3.9k

warning(s): guns, gunshot wound, being stabbed, slight angst if you squint, FOWLERS HEADASS, mizu being sad

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .

You followed silently behind Mizu as she carefully counted the paces to the far entrance to Fowler’s Castle, making sure to place your feet in the dents in the snow where her feet had stepped.

The silence surrounding you two since everything that happened at Madame Kaji’s was tense. You were upset with her. Of course you were. She let Akemi get taken back into captivity and Ringo had left because of her actions.

You could understand where she was coming from, in a way. You can’t save everyone. It’s a hard truth you’d learned in your years as Spider-Woman, but you can’t help but feel like you could’ve done something.

Right before your face could make contact with Mizu’s back, your steps abruptly stopped thanks to your sixth sense. She used her naginata to brush the snow off the covered grate in the ground.

Mizu silently handed you your mask after slicing it open, and you took it from her hand softly. Could she tell you were upset with her? And if she could, did she even care? You shook it off, tugging on your mask.

She dropped down into the tunnel, water splashing beneath her feet softly upon impact. She glanced around quickly before turning back to you, holding up her arms to help you down.

You let her, trying to get ahold of yourself as her hands gripped your waist and gently set you down before she closed the grate with her weapon.

The tunnel darkened significantly and Mizu made a sudden move to keep your hand in hers as you made your way further in. She eventually found a dry enough piece of wood, wrapping a cloth around the top, lighting the cloth on fire to make a torch.

There was loud squeaking coming from your feet, and the two of you looked down to find around 5 rats staring up at you. Mizu killed one, and the rest scattered.

The two of you continued until you came across dozens of skeletons, children’s skeletons, and that was the only other pause you took in the tunnels.

“Oh my god,” You whispered, placing a hand over your mouth at the sight of a woman’s skeleton with her arms wrapped around the child’s far smaller one. You gripped Mizu’s hand tighter as she seethed, dragging you down through the tunnels.

She stopped just before the two of you could run into a door, and let go of your hand. She tried opening it with no luck. Then she leaned her weapon against the doorframe to take off her pack. She handed you the torch, and you glanced around the tunnel nervously.

“What’s the plan, Mizu?” You asked, your hands beginning to shake. Was it fear? Adrenaline? You didn’t know. But every fiber of your body was screaming at you like this was a bad idea, and you couldn’t help but agree.

“Don’t really have one,” She shrugged, picking up her lock picking equipment and kneeling in front of the lock. Your heart pounded at her dry and casual admission that she didn’t have a plan to get through this death house, but you took a deep breath to compose yourself. It was already tense enough. “You’re kind of my secret weapon if everything goes to shit.”

“We should’ve talked about this on the way here,” You grumbled as the lock finally clicked. You took it as good news for a moment before the tunnels behind you began rumbling.

They burst full with water, and you pushed the torch back into her hands. You rushed to the door handle, and began to yank on it with all your strength. It was heavy. You could easily throw a shipping container, and this was hard and rusted for you to open.

It squeezed open a crack, but it was too late. Mizu and you were quickly knocked out as the rushing water slammed you both against the door harshly, and everything went black.

You recovered a bit quicker than Mizu did, but quickly swam back over to the door to continue your work while praying that you wouldn’t drown. It already felt as if your mask was waterboarding you, even though you chose that fabric that wouldn’t do that when you made it (if you got back home to your time, you were contacting the seller). You broke the lock after a brief moment of suffocation, pulling the door open and pushing Mizu through before following after her.

There was finally a place for you both to surface, right under a grate in what you guessed was a supply room. The both of you hacked water out your lungs, catching your breath.

You pushed the grate off, pulling yourself up with aching limbs before holding out your hand and pulling Mizu up with ease. The two of you panted for another minute before she turned to you, her usually cold, narrow eyes more round and almost puppy like.

“You okay?” She asked softly as you tugged off your mask and rung it out.

“Besides being practically waterboarded in this mask?” You coughed up some more water, and she patted your back. “Just peachy.”

She didn’t respond, opting to take off her roll and check what supplies she’d lost in the process of the water slammed into her. She’d lost a lot, still panting before she wiped the water off her face with the back of her hand. She rolled her pack back up and helped you to your feet.

Making your way up the floors of the castle proved to be more physically taxing than you’d originally expected. Although, Mizu could firmly admit now that she was jealous of your acrobatic skills after you flipped and dodged through the corridor after getting stabbed through the ankle at the last second.

Finally, the dust from that flower had worn off for you and you heard grunting coming from a cell farther back in the dungeon. You quickly made your way over with Mizu behind you, gasping at the sight of Taigen. He was beaten to a pulp, a heavily swollen eye, and skin pale. The most frail you’ve ever seen him.

You stayed on your feet to keep watch as Mizu kneeled down to check on him.

“Taigen.” She sighed in relief, a small smile on her face.

He grunts, bringing his hand up to brush against the wrapping on her neck. “That's...” He groans, “That's my scarf.”

“Are you real?”She asks quietly, and he raises a brow to the best of his ability.

“I think so.”

You kneel on the other side of Taigen, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Can you walk?” Taigen grunts as you help him sit up.

“Might be slow.”He grumbles, allowing you to sling his arm around your shoulders and haul him up. He was far lighter than the last time you’d seen him after leaving him in the forest, and the hero part of you couldn’t help but worry.

“Better than you being dead,” You huffed, shaking your head at Mizu when she tried to help. She had to focus. You could handle taking care of Taigen.

You help him hobble out of the cell, turning left to follow Mizu further down the corridor to the next door and flight of stairs.

The large man that had sought Mizu out for Heiji Shindo was looming in before the door at the other end of the hall at the top of the stairs, and you could only sit with Taigen and watch as she fought the man. You webbed up Taigen’s wounds as some form of pressure as Mizu launched herself back after stabbed the explosive into the man’s neck.

She landed a few feet away from you before the explosive activated, killing the man and knocking all of you out.

When you came to, you were acutely aware of the fact you were slowly sliding off the remaining rubble hanging over the edge of where a wall once was.

Coughing, you propped yourself up on your elbow as Mizu began to stir awake and took in your new surroundings. A sharp pain on the left side of your torso hit you, and you hissed in pain before looking down to see a large scrape that managed to tear some of your suit.

You attention quickly turned to your right when a groan rang out, you turned your head to see Taigen slowly falling off the ledge.

Before you could lunge for him yourself, she grabbed his wrist and slid off with him, not having the strength to keep them both on the ground.

“Mizu!” You shouted, more than ready to dive off the side to catch both of them. When you peered over the ledge, you almost let out a sob from the relief at the sight of Mizu dangling from her sword that was stabbed into the side of the building, holding Taigen in her other hand before pulling him onto her back.

You rolled off the ledge, crawling down the wall to them as Mizu gained her footing and gripped onto the crevices in the stone and yanked her sword out.

“Give me your hand,” She seemed reluctant, not wanting to put more physical stress onto you. Your eyes seemed rounded, almost puppy like as you asked again. “Please, Mizu. I can carry the both of you.”

She reluctantly placed her tired hand into your own, surprised by your strength as you easily lifted both of them onto your back the same way Mizu had done to Taigen. You gingerly took her sword, biting the dull end to hold it in your mouth, almost snarling as you scaled up the side of the castle.

Mizu watched in admiration, and almost adoringly at how tenacious and adamant you were. You were easily scaling the building with two bodies dangling from your shoulders, and you were doing all of it just to help her. No one had ever been there for her the way you have (besides sword father), in just a few months as well.

You had found a small, wider ledge to pull yourself onto. You placed your elbow on the ledge and pulled yourself up, panting softly as you gazed in through the window. A small army of guards was grouped behind a door, waiting for the three of you, you guessed. Your spider sense rang in your ears and you grunted, turning your head back to Mizu.

“Hold on,” You grunted, shooting a hand out to spray a web to the top of the window. You yanked yourself up the web, internally thinking about how easily you did this back home. But you made it over the window just as a guard looked back, seeming to have heard you, but not seeing anything.

After finally reaching the room that Fowler resided in, the both of you watched from below a window as one of the lords stood in front of it. Mizu gingerly removed her sword from her mouth, raising her arm to throw it.

“After he starts to drop, throw Taigen in.” She rasped in your ear, and you nodded, not being able to stop the goosebumps that quickly covered your body from the warm breath on your neck.

It all happened quicker than you could really comprehend; Mizu stabbing the lord, throwing Taigen into the room, and launching her from your shoulders into the room. You followed after quickly, the sight of your spider-suit earning strange glares from the lords.

“Abijah Fowler!” Mizu shouted, holding her sword out and ready. “Where is he?” She wandered over to the table with you right behind her, gazing down at a sheet of paper with what seemed to be a war plan and a map of Edo.

Mizu quickly turned as one of the lords struck his sword at her, backing up into you to make sure you weren’t hit. When she struck back, the dull edge of her blade resting against the fat of his neck before lifting her leg up and kicking him back. He landed on the wooden floor with a harsh thud, making you wince.

The click of a gun cocking and the trigger being pulled registered in your head before she could notice it.

You launched yourself over the table at the much larger body; Fowler. Shooting a web on either side of him, you yanked yourself at him as he fired. You let out a shout as your foot made solid contact with his cheek, knocking him back as Mizu’s blade broke, the bullet tearing through her shoulder.

You scrambled onto your feet to sprint back to Mizu as Fowler lifted his head, rubbing his jaw with an unnerving smile.

“Now, what are you?”

Mizu whimpered as she held the shoulder where the bullet entered before looking at her broken blade mournfully. You quickly moved her hands, checking the other side of her shoulder to see if the bullet went through; you really didn’t want to dig one out of her. Thankfully it did, and you quickly webbed up the injury as Abijah stood, grabbed a brush to shove down the barrel of his gun.

“You see?” He states to Heiji, using his gun to push the man’s sword down as they watched you and Mizu. “No one murders so well as the British. It’s our number one export.”

Mizu growled at the man before lunging at him with her broken blade, but he quickly raises his gun and wacks her back, throwing her into the wall. Your breath hitched before you raised your eyes to face him, a rage bubbling in your stomach that hadn’t ever been before. It was new, and foreign, and dark.

But Mizu said you shouldn’t run from the dark.

“Look at you..” Abijah mocked, “No ones ever made it up half this far before.”

You let out a cry as you sprinted forward. He tried to pull the same move on you but you ducked under, kicking him square in the chest and sending him a few feet back. He kept his footing as he rose again, looking square into your eyes. Your nose scrunched under the mask.

“And you,” He squinted, watching as your shoulders rose and fell heavily with your pants. “I’ve never seen one like you…what are you?” He noticed the spider emblem on your suit and smiled in amusement. “Little spider?”

You remained silent before charging again as Mizu regained herself, and you were too caught up in your anger and attacking the man to notice his large hand coming up to grip your neck.

He dangled you off the ground, watching with a smile as you became more panic. It quickly stilled your movements, your hands beginning to shake as you clawed at his hand. His hand squeezed your throat tighter and you wheezed in his grip.

He wriggled a thumb under your mask and ripped it off, scoffing in amusement.

“Strong little thing, aren’t ya?” He commented, running his thumb over your jawline.

You spit in his face, mustering up the harshest glare you could must as his expression turned to anger.

“Fuck you,”

“Oh, darling,” He laughed, and before you could really process, his gun raised to your stomach and he shot you in the side.

Mizu watched in terror as you screamed. It was nightmarish. The most gut wrenching scream she’d ever heard, and she was sure it was just tattooed onto the inner most parts of her brain. She had been told of your past injuries when she helped you bind your chest, her hand gently running all your scars, but she never imagined that she’d be responsible for another one. Even if it wasn’t by her hands.

He tossed you over near Taigen like you were a rag doll, making your vision spotty as Mizu shouted again, but it barely registered in your head as a fight broke out and he began pummeling Mizu. Taigen had jumped in what you heard, and Fowler was beating him to a pulp above you.

Before you knew it, the three of you were soaring — no… falling, out of the window you’d arrived in, into the freezing water dozens of stories below.

——————

You felt warm.

Were you home?

No… the bedding beneath you was too stiff.

Groaning, you attempted to come to a sitting position before the familiar touch of a stub came to rest on your chest.

“Stay down,”

You opened your eyes softly, letting a smile rest on your lips at the sight of Ringo hovering above you with a wet rag. When he turned back to place the rag on your stomach, he noticed your smile, and returned it with a brighter one.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” You smiled up at him, wincing at the sharp pain as the ragged soaked the water through your wound. “Did you get the bullet out?”

“Mizu did,” He replied, his smile dropping at the topic of your mutual friend. Well, once mutual friend. “It was hard for her though. Almost made me feel bad.”

You raised an eyebrow before sighing, “Let’s not talk about that right now, ‘kay?” You raised a hand and pinched the bridge of your nose. Their beef was not yours, and while you did want them to talk it out and at least make up, you weren’t going to stick your nose where it didn’t belong. He nodded hesitantly, helping you sit up and tie on a haori over your chest bindings. “Where are we?” You asked, looking around the room.

“Master Eiji’s.”

“This is the place?” You glanced around more attentively now, after finding out you were in the house of the man that had taken Mizu under his wing. You had a weird urge to hug him, but you knew that was probably inappropriate. “Huh..”

“I made you medicine,” He interrupted your thoughts and handed you a warm bowl and rose to his feet. “I’ll be just outside. Call if you need me.”

You nodded, not bothering to watch him leave before digging in. You were starving. You probably ate it faster than you were supposed to, but it tasted good and helped you feel good. You crawled over to where the other dirty dishes were stacked, placing your bowl on top. You figured you’d ask Ringo to help wash them once you found Mizu.

It was nearing the middle of the day when you stepped outside, squinting at the sudden bright light before you began wandering into the forest. If she wasn’t at Eiji’s, she was probably doing something out there. You were surprised to see her stacking rocks atop each other from the edge of the clearing, but didn’t hesitate to keep approaching.

“What are you making?”

Mizu jumped at the sound of your voice, clearly too in the zone to notice that your footsteps were loud enough for her to hear for once. At the sight of you, she dropped the rock she gripped tightly in her hands in favor of running over to you and engulfing you in a hug.

You were stunned. Sure, skinship had become a common occurrence in your relationship with Mizu, but it’d never gotten to hugging. 'Figures. Only I’d have a situationship where we’ve kissed each other before hugging,’ You thought to yourself as you gripped onto the back of Mizu’s haori while she silently cried into your hair, holding the back of your head and shoulders like you could slip away at any second.

“Don’t ever do that again,” She scolded while pulling away, placing her hands on either side of your face. She squished your face, causing you to chuckle softly before looking up at her.

Her eyes were soft, round… she’d never looked at you this softly. At least, not while you were looking according to Taigen and Ringo. She almost looked like a kicked puppy from the amount of guilt in her eyes.

“I never should have brought you with,” She whispered, letting one hand fall to your shoulder while the other rested over the gunshot wound on your stomach with a featherlight touch. She was almost scared that she’d break you if she was any more rough. “Then you would’ve been safe with Ringo and…” She sighed shakily, dropping to her knees and resting her forehead against your navel.

Your breath hitched as her hands slid down your sides to grip the tops of your hips with shaky hands.

“and you wouldn’t have almost died because of me. You wouldn’t have another scar because of me.” She almost whimpered it out, hands gripping your hips tighter as she looked up at you. “I can’t lose you.”

Her stunning eyes held the words she couldn’t muster up the courage to say herself, and your cheeks heated up immensely before you kneeled with her, your hands coming to rest on her arms. As you gently caressed the taut muscles, you swallowed the lump in your throat as your hands came to rest on either side of her face.

“You won’t,” You whisper surely, thumbs coming up to catch her tears before they could trail down her cheeks. “I won’t let that happen, and neither will you. We’re too stubborn to die.” You smile, watching her mouth as she does the same. “And I’m too stubborn to let you push me away when I know you feel the same now.”

Mizu huffs out a soft laugh, “Was I that obvious?”

“Eh,” You shrugged, doing a so-so hand motion. “I heard it all the time from Ringo and the bozo, but never really believed it until now. Your eyes are very expressive.”

Mizu chuckles, but it’s cut off when you pull her lips down to yours. Her eyes widen before she lets herself melt into you and your sweet lips, a smile tugging on her lips as her hands grip your haori and pull her closer. You gasped at the sudden gentle yank, and she took her opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Reluctantly, after a few more moments you pulled away with a grin, running a thumb over her now swollen lower lip. Your attention turned behind you to what seemed to be a firepit.

“What are you making?”

Mizu turns her head to see where you’re looking before standing, helping you up to your feet again. Her hand doesn’t leave yours as she begins explaining, and you’re glad. You don’t want to let go of her.

She explains that she’s going to attempt to melt and reforge her sword, since sword father had no steel for her. You listen attentively, barely willing to let her go as she goes over to pick up the rock she dropped and place it in the right spot on the growing wall. She seems optimistic, in a sense as you cross your arms over your chest and watch her work.

“It’ll work,” She grumbles, mostly to herself, as if she’s trying to convince herself – to will it into existence, but there’s still doubt there. You catch it, frowning before taking a stone off the cart to help her. When you place it down, she looks up at you with a surprised expression.

“It’ll work,” You smile, “And I’ll be here to help with whatever you need.”

#mizu x reader #reader x mizu #mizu x you #you x mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai imagines #blue eye samurai fanfiction #mizu blue eye samurai #zoe's works #my works

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fairlyang · 4 months

Text

Gatita🕷️

you get recruited and slowly convince miguel you're on his side

w/c: 12K

pairing: miguel o’hara x blackcat!reader

tags: 18+ smut. mention of guns, blood, murder, death, grief. teasing, seducing, goes both ways, tension, slight choking, groping, kissing, interrupted, more tension, caves in, blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!), size difference, more choking

notes: my longest fic up to date which is a bit sad bc I think she flopped bc the hornies hate reading more than 1K sometimes 💀

The notorious Black Cat of New York but also happened to be the city's very own Spider Woman. An incredibly unexpected combination but what can one do when kidnapped by Kingpin and are forcibly meant to be his Guinea pig?

Then almost right after escaping getting bit by a radioactive spider....

On the bright side who else was able to rob banks and also be able to stop other criminals from doing so, before she gets to hit them herself? None other than yourself, of course.

You kept your two different lives separate, to the best of your ability anyway. Obviously no one was able to stop the infamous Black Cat or retrieve all the things she'd steal. Spider Woman on the other hand, stopping every other criminal or asshole on the streets, besides your alter ego.

You were going to hit up a jewelry store, to steal a few brand new diamonds for yourself. In your oh so casual Black Cat attire that consisted of a black spandex suit with the matching mask covering your eyes, along with the realistic long silver wig.

You were somewhat unrecognizable, but it wasn't like anyone from your personal life was gonna be robbing banks or jewelry stores. Or be anywhere near when you would be robbing one. There'd be no reason for anyone in your life to see you when you were doing Black Cat activities.

Or so you thought, before your whole world came crashing down.

I quickly turned off the security system in the jewelry store from the alley right next to it, I grabbed my bag of goodies and I hid my special tablet behind some trash before quickly going inside by the side door. It was vacant, as expected.

I went to the back of the store and look at the cases with the newest necklaces and rings embedded with shiny diamonds. I trail a finger along the glass and look down at the casing filled with only diamond rings.

I walked along the back of the store, looking at everything, the shiniest of rings and earrings until I spotted the most gorgeous necklace.

Filled with diamonds shaped like flower petals all along the neckline with a leaf shape hanging down with more diamonds embedded on its shape, with a red ruby sitting perfectly right in the middle of it. My eyes flicker with admiration and want, I needed it. I take my bag off from my shoulder and place it on the floor quickly opening it to grab something to open the case. Then I stop and stand up walking to the back of the case and scoff. The key.

What kind of dumbasses leave the fucking key out?

I shrug and roll my eyes unlocking the little door and take the necklace out carefully. No alarm.

I close the case and walk back to my bag and stuff it in one of its pockets then zip it up. I pick it up putting the strap back on my shoulder and walk around the store, stopping when something caught my eye.

I walk over to it and chuckle. How ironic... a gold necklace with a spider hanging out and yet another red ruby being held by it's arms and legs.

How could I not?

I grab a small tool with a pointy end and walk to the back of the counter. I kneel down and quickly unlock the little door and in just a few seconds it clicks open. I slide the door open and grab the necklace admiring the pretty ruby.

I stand up and grab a few other pieces then walk around the counter and back to my bag. I put them all in another pocket carefully then close it shut. I wrap my bag around my shoulders and head towards the side door, not really wanting anything else. I open the door and close it quietly before making my way to pick up my tablet from where I left it.

Sure enough it was there and I quickly turned the security system back on before using a web to swing up onto the roof of a building.

I always tried to be careful when using my webs but considering it was past 1am and it was empty out, i didn't have a care.

I walk along the edge of the roof looking at the view, admiring all the buildings and the glowing moon right above them. I jump onto the next roof and continue walking, keeping an eye out just in case. I jumped off roof to roof for about an hour, patrolling around, nothing out of the ordinary happening so i decide to make my way home.

I was a bit far from my apartment so I started swinging in the direction, feeling the cold breeze and going through the dimly light streets when my spidey senses go off when I'm one block away from my place. I swing on top of a roof and look down at an alleyway and widen my eyes to see my best friend, Ben getting mugged.

I curse under my breath and feel my heart start to race. I put my bag on a corner of the roof and look down before carefully climbing down a set of pipes, unbeknownst to the muggers.

I was right above them now and I take a deep breath then jump on top of one, knocking him off Ben and giving him space to catch a breather. I punch his jaw once I tackled him down to the floor then continuously punch him in the face against the hard floor.

I stand up and turn to look at the other guy and he gripped his gun. Ben had taken a few steps back making me feel a tad bit more calm. I sprint towards the bad guy somehow catching him off guard and kick him in the balls instantly making him groan and drop down to his knees.

I punch him on the stomach multiple times as hard I can, not able to control myself, almost like I needed to make sure he wouldn't be able to hurt Ben. Then I hear his voice and I feel his hands on my shoulders. "Hey- hey hey it's fine- I'm good now- it's fine." He says with widened eyes as we both look down to see the man with blood coming out of his mouth, his breathing slow.

I step away from the man and try to control my rapid breathing, before turning to Ben and asking in a softer voice, "are you okay?"

"Yeah- me? Oh yeah I'm fine, I'm good- I- uh-thanks..." He trails on and I take a deep breath.

"Black Cat." I say and look down at my masked hands covered with blood.

"Right! Thanks a lot- I uh just didn't expect 'em-" he savs and I cut him off.

"Of course." I say in my normal voice and I mentally curse myself, he can't know.

Suddenly my spidey senses go off and I turn around withdrawing my talons and claw at the guy behind me but not before hearing a gunshot. I feel my heart drop and I widen my eyes looking down at the gun.

I pull it out of the man, his body instantly dropping and turn around to see Ben covering his stomach then slowly starting to fall. I quickly run to him and was able to catch him, as we dropped to the floor, and my hands immediately going to put pressure on his wound but he was losing blood fast. "Hey look at me- B-Ben- keep your eyes on me- please-" I cry out, already feeling the hot tears streaming down my mask.

"'Wha-" he tries to say but I shake my head and bring a hand up to cover his mouth.

I bite my lip and then take my other hand off his stomach. I carefully take off his jacket and make him press it against his stomach. "I-I"

I bring my hands up to take off my mask and I look down at him with a sad smile. His eyes immediately grew wide and he tried to speak again but I shake my head. "You're gonna be okay- I promise-" I whisper and then move my hands back onto his stomach, the jacket already being soaked by his blood.

I swallow back a sob and wipe my tears, trying so hard to remain optimistic, "Don't waste your energy okay? I promise you'll be okay." I say breathless and he just shakes his head.

I feel my heart break into pieces and more hot tears stream down my face. "It's okay." He whispers and holds onto my hands, slightly gripping them.

"N-no- no B-Ben p-please-" I cry out and he lets out a small smile.

"It's... okay..." He says slowly and I see how slow he's breathing now.

I look down at his eyes, and he lightly squeezed my hands and nods. I curse under my breath and shake my head, "I'm so sorry-"

He coughs, some blood coming out, then shakes his head, "it's.. not your... fault..." he whispers making me want to cry even harder.

"I love you." I whisper and hold his hand softly.

"I love you." He murmurs and then his eyes close. His grip on my hands loosened completely and his breathing stopped.

I'd never felt such heartbreak in my life, I've never dealt with instant grief like this, or anger at myself. I cradled him in my arms, now silently crying unable to move and slowly not able to breathe. I started sobbing uncontrollably after looking down at his face, what was always so happy and lively was now never going to look at me, scold me or roll his eyes at me.

I stayed like that for who knows how long until I heard a noise behind me. I turn and look at the man who murdered my best friend, slowly crawling away, letting out groans for every little inch he moved. I move Ben's body to lay down flat on the floor before standing up and taking a few steps towards the fucker who just took my other half from me. I grab him and turn him around, slamming him against the concrete and make him look at me. With pure anger and malice I withdraw my claws and in an instant slash at his face then withdraw a talon again, lifting it up and stabbing him in the heart repeatedly.

I stopped after my arm started to hurt and I looked down at the mess. My body started shaking and I look down at my talon, hands, legs. All covered in blood. I shake my head and walk back to Ben, moving the hair out of his face and making sure his eyes were closed.

I let the tears fall down as I looked at his face, how much I'd miss his contagious laugh, his smile, the way he'd ramble on about his current interest. God I'm gonna miss him.

I was front row at his funeral, holding hands with his mom and sister, I made sure to tell them that the person who took him away from us was dead. They didn't even ask, not wanting to know the details, but were happy that Ben got his justice. But at what cost?

Nothing broke my heart more than hearing his sister tell me that he was on the way to see me, to have a surprise movie night because he missed us just randomly hanging out.

I let more tears fall, as I saw his casket going down, I'd never have my best friend back. What will I do without him?

I let them go as they went to stand by to watch. I let more tears fall as I grip the matching bracelet we had bought years ago when we were in high school. Mine was purple with a charm of some milk, his was blue with a charm of cookies. What was once such a silly little buy between two friends was now another reminder of all our memories together.

I stand up and drop to my knees in front of the designated spot for his grave and look down. Saying my final goodbyes in my head and look up at the sky knowing he'll always be watching over me.

"Jess you said you found a possible new recruit?" Miguel asked looking down at Jess as his platform was going down.

"Yep. You might want to consider her..." she says and walks onto his platform after it fully stopped, handing him the file.

He quickly skims through it then scoffs, "Jess this is a Black Cat variant-"

"Keep reading!" She exclaims and takes a seat on his chair, leaning back against it.

He rolls his eyes but does so anyway considering he trusts Jess' judgement. He keeps reading and suddenly his eyes widen making Jess laugh. "Considering it huh?"

He doesn't say a word, raises an eyebrow, and looks up at her, "when was the last time she did Black Cat activities?"

"Four years ago, exactly today." She responds and he cocks an eyebrow.

"Just keep reading Miguel." She says letting out a sigh.

He groans but looks back down at the paper, now carefully reading through everything. His eyes soften for a singular second before he has a serious look on his face again.

"Go get her." He says as Jess carefully stands up.

"You got it." She says as she takes a step down his platform.

"Just be careful-"

"Yeah yeah-" she says waving him off making him groan.

"I'm serious Jess- Black Cats are unpredictable-"

"Which would make her a great fit here." She retorts and walks out of his office.

It was four years since Ben was shot, you had struggled a lot especially in the beginning. But with all the support of his family, your family, close friends, and tons of therapy, you were able to grieve, and move on with your life but never forgetting your childhood best friend.

I was sitting down next to Ben's grave eating his favorite food, mac and cheese, along with some chocolate nesquik. God he really had the appetite and taste of a five year old.

I shake my head and smile at his grave, "Ben Parker, beloved son, brother, and friend"

"I sure do miss you." I mumble and look up at the sky.

I sigh and scoop up the last of the mac and cheese putting it into my mouth before taking a long sip of the nesquik. I pull the bottle away from my mouth before spilling the rest of it on the grass in front of the grave. "This one's for you." I say and chuckle.

I sigh and lean my back against his grave, looking at all the new dandelions that grew all around. I thought of it as he was giving us something to show he was with us. I let one hand gently caress one and smile.

Suddenly I feel something coming, I quickly stand up and look around. Nothing. I squint my eyes but there was no one around, no car or anything. Then just as I was about to sit back down some weird portal appeared out of thin air.

I straighten up and widen my eyes. I take a step back unsure of how it got here or who was about to come out. I look down at Ben's grave and sigh, quickly do a cross across my forehead and chest. I get in a fighting position when a woman steps out, a pregnant woman at that. I furrow my brows and watch as she steps in front of me cautiously. "Who are you?"

"Call me Jess..." she says and I put my hands down slowly.

"You're a spi-"

"Yep- sorry to be the one to burst your bubble but you aren't-" she starts to say and I gasp.

"The only one." I finish and widen my eyes.

"Wow...." I murmur taking a close look at her suit, it didn't even look like a suit more like a cool outfit.

"And you're pregnant?" I say and look down at her belly.

She nods and smiles, bringing a hand down to gently rub her stomach, "four months." She says softly and I give her a small smile.

"So not to be rude but why are you here? And how?" I ask and cross my arms against my chest.

"Think of this as... recruitment." She says and eyes me up and down.

"Recruitment?" I mumble and shake my head, "for what exactly?" I ask raising an eyebrow.

"You'll find out soon enough." she raises an eyebrow at me, "you have a suit?"

I chuckle and shrug, "haven't really used it in a while...." I say and she smiles.

"Well you're gonna use it now." She says and opens a new portal and motions for me to follow her.

"This might feel a bit weird." She says as she walks in and I slowly follow.

We walk for a bit until another portal opens and it's in... my living room. "Go on, I'll wait." She says and I scoff.

"How the-"

"You don't mind if I get some water do you?" She asks as she walks over to the kitchen.

"Make yourself at home....." I mumble as I walk over to my room then look back to notice the portal was gone. What the fuck.

"Y'know when you said you had a suit, I thought you meant-" Jess starts to say and I cut her off. "My spider woman one?" I say and chuckle, as I turn to look at her and she nods.

We walk out of the portal and are in some kind of lobby, my eyes widen and I gasp. I look around and there's hundreds, maybe thousands of spider people. And animals? "Was that a dinosaur?"

"There's all kinds of spider beings here." She says and I nod.

"Clearly- holy shit-" I say and admire all the different suits, designs and colors people had.

"So why did you decide on wearing this suit?" She asks as she leads the way walking past working spiders.

"Uh well let's just say my other one got fucked in my last fight and I was getting too lazy to fix it." I say and laugh.

"Plus this one was the next best thing.... And gives me more strength." I add and shrug. "And I wanted to see if it still fit..." I mutter and smirk.

"At least you didn't put the wig on...." She says playfully rolling her eyes making me laugh.

"Well you didn't give me much time to." I joke and bring a hand up to my ear to fix my earring.

"So, everyone's boss, Miguel O'Hara, is something special.... Long as you don't flip on us then you'll be fine and he might be alright with you sticking around." She says and I raise an eyebrow.

"So this is gonna be like an interview?" I ask and groan.

"Unfortunately."

I roll my eyes and curse under my breath, "mi suerte." (just my luck)

"Oh and he's Mexican so might have to be careful if you curse at him in Spanish." She says and i scoff.

"You're joking-"

"Nope, so watch that mouth." She warns and making me smirk.

"Then this just might be more fun than I thought." I say keeping the smirk on my face as she just shakes her head.

"Be chill." Jess said as we walked the long hallway to Miguel's office.

"I'll try...." I say and shrug.

"No doors?" I mutter and see all the machinery all over the place as we make a turn and yet another long hallway but with a lot of space at the end of it.

She ignores me as we keep walking and I trail a finger along all the tech things. I walk behind her admiring everything, then see a tool I knew all too well and chuckle. I shrug and grab it, unzipping the front of my suit, hiding it on the underside of my bra before quickly catching up to Jess while I zip my suit back up. You never know when you'll need it.

We walk into a room with a high ceiling and we both stopped and looked up as a platform was coming down, with who I assumed was Miguel. Wow he was huge-

I shake my thoughts away and bite my lip, crossing my arms across my chest and watch as it goes down. So slowly.

I blink and turn to Jess, she just sighs and shrugs, "just be patient."

"That isn't really in my blood...." I whisper and she chuckles.

"Well with him it'll have to be." She says making me roll my eyes.

It eventually came down, his back was facing us which I found to be very distracting... he was very wide, broad, and definitely not like the other Mexican men back in my New York. I bite my tongue and push back my thoughts... for now...

"Why are you wearing that?" He suddenly asks now turning around to face us and I raise an eyebrow. Why?

"Just felt like it." I say sarcastically making him narrow his eyes at me.

He turns to look at Jess and gives her a look, I roll my eyes pretending I didn't see it and take it upon myself to walk around as he steps off to talk to her.

I look up at the orange screens on top of the platform. It was showing tons of video clips, of different spiders but also of people out of their suits? Was this dude stalking people? This looked fucking insane.

I look at a specific screen seeing two teenagers talking, both their eyes filled with admiration and love. Cute.

"Oye gatita-" The voice and snap of Miguel fills my ears and I turn my head to look at him, "no es bueno fisgar." (Hey kitty, it's not good to snoop around)

I smirk and shrug, "just curious."

"Don't care that it killed the cat?" He responds quickly and I laugh.

"Did you already have these ready?" I tease and he rolls his eyes letting out a scoff. This was gonna be fun.

I walk back to him and Jess, looking at them, waiting expectantly. He lets out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair and looks at me, "so the last time you've robbed anything was four years ago?"

I nod, not exactly shocked he already knew. He did have screens that were practically cameras.

He narrows his eyes at me and I tilt my head to the side keeping my eyes on his. We stayed like that, few feet away from each other just holding each other's gaze.

I was captivated, I couldn't look away because I simply didn't want to. And to not lose this silent staring competition. His eyes were a gorgeous color of red, and like all men, had pretty long lashes.

It had me thinking of how he was really handsome, the kind you'd find on a night out but not get the chance to ask for his number and you slump all sad for the rest of the night. Or the kind you and all your girlfriends would be fighting over wanting to go talk to him. The kind you'd grow the balls to ask to dance with you or maybe not even ask and just grind up against him-

Suddenly there's a loud clap making us both blink and groan at the same time. "Sorry just wanted to say I'm leaving." Jess says as I turn my head to look at her with a semi-surprised look on her face.

"But I want the credit for bringing her in considering it seems you already don't mind her presence." She adds and I laugh.

I look at Miguel as he scoffs and shakes his head, interesting reaction. "Who said-"

"Alright I'll leave you to it." She cuts him off and turns to me.

I look at her as she puts her hands on my shoulders and leans into my ear, "maybe use your magic on him, to make him less grumpy." She whispers very quietly making me smirk. Ah so he needs a distraction....

I bite my lip to hold back my laughter and just nod as she pulls away, "don't gotta tell me twice." I whisper back and she grins.

"She's a keeper." Jess says turning back to Miguel and he sighs.

"We'll see about that." He mutters and I grin.

Jess gives me a wave as she walks off and I look at Miguel again, "You definitely blinked first."

He shoots me a glare making me snicker, "you're very easy to tick off huh?"

"Shut up." He snarls making me grin.

"I can tell this is the start of a very beautiful relationship." I say and give him a wink.

He rolls his eyes then throws something at me, I catch it with ease and look down at it, a watch. "Welcome to the spider society." He says and goes back up to his platform without another word.

I admire it for a few seconds before quickly slipping it on and smile, wow.

Jess was kind enough to show me the ropes of how to use the watch, more specifically how to make portals to go to my earth and back here. Then she made another spider give me a tour and the overall breakdown, she was very sweet.

"So, Gwen, is it usually busy here?" I ask and turn to the blonde haired girl as she shrugs.

"Depends on the day, sometimes it's chaotic..." she says as we turn to see some spiders in the middle of an argument and she gives me a smile, "but sometimes it's chill."

I laugh and nod, "sure seems like it'd be a good mix of both."

She nods and smiles, "you'll fit right in! And don't mind the stares, there's already not too many women here so they're just-"

"Yeah... y'know what it's fine, could be way worse..." I say and chuckle, already have felt the stares since I got here.

"Trust me I get it, a lot, it'll calm down after a bit." She ensures making me laugh.

"We'll have to see about that, guess I'm not your ordinary spider woman." I mutter, shaking my head in disbelief.

Have these men never seen a woman before?

"It's whatever, but I really didn't expect this many people-" I say and look all around us casually looking at the amount of suits there were.

So many colors.

"Yeah we're a big bunch..." she jokes as we walk around the halls of HQ.

"And Miguel recruited everyone?" I ask turning to look at her.

"Pretty much." She responds letting out a chuckle.

"What a job huh?" She adds and I nod.

"It's a job of it's own." I mutter under my breath just shocked how one man can find and say yes to a shit ton of people.

"His main focus is his work so it shouldn't be too shocking y'know?" She responds and it had me thinking.

Main focus huh? Very, very interesting.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

It was your second day and after getting a full tour you had gotten your first mission. You caught the anomaly easily and thinking you'd get another one, you went to Miguel's office but he said that was it.

"What do you mean?!?" I ask confused.

"You're still new alright gatita? I'm not going to immediately give you a handful of anomaly's to catch, I'm going to ease you into it." He explains making me groan and roll my eyes to which he sighs.

"If you keep up the momentum of your first mission then maybe I'll give you two per day." He says slowly and I smile.

"So kind of you Miguel." I say and wink at him.

He rolls his eyes making me grin, oooh I love a challenge...

"Entonces Miguel estas soltero o que...." I ask looking up at him, lightly fluttering my lashes at him. (So Miguel are you single or what)

"Get out-"

"Alright alright cálmate- it was just a simple question." I say in an innocent tone biting my lip to not smirk or laugh. (calm down)

He gives me a look and I just ignore it, keeping my eyes on to his pretty crimson ones awaiting an answer. "Why don't you look over some reports for me?" He says and I finally let out a laugh.

"Sure." I respond then chuckle, shaking my head. This might be harder than I thought...

He goes up to his desk and grabs a handful of files, before explaining what I had to keep an eye for and correct or whatever, I wasn't sure, just looking at how huge he was while he rambled and looked at his screens.

I wanted to take another good and close look at him while his back was facing me. I've never seen any of those gym guys back home look like this- I mean he was on a whole other level of jacked and fine...

The muscles on his back extended and became more prominent with every movement and swipe he did on his screens only making me eyes widen and more thoughts coming in to mind.

He would look so fucking good hovering over me- towering over my body looking down at me with those eyes- god those eyes had something in them because I felt like every time I looked I was hooked and couldn't bare looking away for a single second.

The way his biceps were so toned and looked absolutely perfect because of his suit that laid on every curve flawlessly. Every inch of him was just incredible to look at and I might've been drooling a bit from how much I was gawking.

"Gatita pon atención." His voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I slightly jump before quickly gain my composure. Oops. (Pay attention)

"I am-" i retort and he scoffs. I bite my lip looking at the back of his head as he shakes it.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

"So why can't I go on the mission anymore?" I groan looking up at Miguel while he's typing away on a tablet with Lyla by his shoulder.

"I already told you." He mutters and I scoff.

"You didn't! You just told me I wasn't needed-"

"And I think that's good enough-"

"Well it isn't!" I exclaim and cross my arms against my chest, annoyed and confused.

He ignores me and doesn't even look at me, "Lyla tell Peter B to fill in-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!?" I scream and roll my eyes.

The fucking audacity of this man-

They keep talking to each other and I just close my eyes and take a deep breath in, because I unlike others know how to control my anger and annoyance. I hear Lyla's chirpy voice disappear and I open my eyes to immediately glare at him. He shakes his head, sighs then turns to me, "no hagas tus berrinches-" (don't throw your tantrums)

"Como no lo voy hacer si no me dejas ir a ayudar!! Estoy aquí para trabajar o no?!?" I retort and groan. (How am I not going to do it if you don't let me go and help!! Am I here to work or no?!?)

“You are-"

"Then???" I question and groan.

It's been a week since I got here and everyone's been cool and helpful. Except for him.

It was like he was my number one hater and couldn't fathom the fact that I was actually serious about wanting to help people. If he had his doubts why did he even bother let me join the society?

"You still don't trust me? Is that it?" I say and he stays quiet.

I roll my eyes and sigh, "I haven't even given you a reason not to." I mutter and walk out of his office.

"Then prove me wrong." I hear him mutter and just continue walking.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

I was sat on Miguel's desk waiting for him to get back from his mission to hand deliver him my first set of reports. I went over each other making sure everything was correct, slowly growing bored as he was dragging ass.

"Waiting for Miguel hun?" Lyla appears in front of me and I nod.

"He'll be a while more." She says and leans in looking at me intently.

"Jess said they were finishing up so i thought I'd wait." I say looking at her tiny body and she raises an eyebrow.

"You literally see the papers on me right now-" I say and she sticks a finger up shutting me up.

"I didn't accuse you of anything..." she responds making me scoff.

"But all of you are so paranoid for no reason anyway! I stopped my bullshit years ago." I mutter and cross my leg over the other.

"Then what about the flirting?" She asks widening her eyes and moves her face closer.

"That's just in my blood." I retort and shrug trying not to sound smug about it. I mean how could I resist?

She hums and closes an eye, widening the other just staring me down. I roll my eyes and play with a piece of my hair twirling it between my fingers while she's trying to read me, figure me out. I sigh and look at her, "well can you really blame me?"

Suddenly she snickers and shakes her head as I smirk and shrug again, no way she could deny it either....

"Hmm I guess." She says nonchalantly then we both turn to the entrance of Miguel's office to hear his footsteps.

She turns to me and puts her fingers to her lips and pretends to seal them then gives me a wink before turning to look at Miguel again, "kitty is here to see you."

I chuckle and hop off the desk as Miguel walks up to his platform and looks at me expectantly, I hold the reports up to him and he takes them from me quickly reading through them.

"Lyla mute all notifications for the next hour unless it's an absolute emergency." He tells her then looks back at me.

"Sure thing boss." She chirps, giving me a quick wink then disappears.

"You've been doing fairly decent..." he says almost hesitantly.

"Don't be so shocked Miguel, I'm obviously here to get work done." I say and shrug, straightening up.

"I see you are." He mutters and walks towards me then puts my stack of reports on the desk behind me.

I try my hardest to ignore our close proximity, knowing if I pay attention to it I will start having immediate thoughts I shouldn't be having.

"You've surprised me." He says looking down at me as we're merrily a few feet away from each other.

"How so?" I ask and cross my arms against my chest.

He shrugs and takes another step closer, I bite the inside of my cheek lightly and hold my breath looking up at him curiously. "Just thought you'd be a bigger problem for me."

That sounded like a double entendres.... interesting..

"I can behave when I want to." I say taking a step forward, getting closer to him and feeling my heart race.

"I find that hard to believe." He mutters making me smirk.

He didn't have to say another word. He wants a problem, he can get it.

I take the final step forward, our bodies so close to touching, I slowly bring a hand up to his neck then lightly trail along his collarbone. His breath hitches but he quickly regains composure, not moving nor pushing me away. I bring my other hand up and trail along his shoulders slowly.

Our eyes were locked the entire time but his eyes were softly fluttering and his chest was heaving the slightest bit. I smile sweetly at him and then bring my hands up to wrap them around his neck, removing the tiniest bit of space between us. I lean up a bit, lightly breathing against his lips, then lean in as if I was going to kiss him and only pulling away after our lips were millimeters apart. "Maybe I don't want to." I whisper and let our lips touch very lightly for a split second then pull away.

"Or maybe I do." I whisper then let go of him completely and take a step back looking at his very shocked expression.

"Cat got your tongue?" I tease making him groan.

He takes a step forward and wrapping his arm around my waist then turns me around. I gasp in shock then he quickly brings a hand up to my throat, making the back of my head hit his chest. His other arm was wrapped around my stomach as I felt his breath on my nose and a shiver travels down my body when his hand that was on my throat was off for a second to move my hair back. He leans down and leaves a soft kiss on my neck. Oh fuck.

He placed his hand back on my throat, barely squeezing making me wish he'd just apply a bit more pressure. Sadly he doesn't read my mind but does leave more soft kisses up and down my neck making my heart beat out of my chest.

"Think you're hot shit teasing me like this gatita?" He growls in my ear making me bite my lip.

I squeeze my thighs together subconsciously rubbing my ass against his crotch. He groans and moves his hips, grinding himself against me. I let out a shaky breath and feel my eyes fluttering, he moves his hand from my stomach down to my thigh. He lightly squeezed the right one then moved to squeeze the left. "Tan bonita." He whispers in my ear making me moan. (so pretty)

Suddenly he lets go of me completely and I can no longer feel him on me, at all. I turn around seeing him with the cockiest smirk I've ever had the displeasure of having to look at and groan then roll my eyes. "Two can play at that game gatita." He teases as I clear my throat and give him a sweet smile.

"Then just make sure it's one you know you'll win." I say then walk out of his office feeling so empty and needy...

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

Anytime you had the opportunity to be alone with Miguel you took it, made sure to keep teasing him like he'd tease you.

At first it was innocent "accidental" touches like hands brushing against each other or even catching each others gaze.

Then it swiftly changed from that to you purposefully bending over to get something. As well as grinding yourself on him in crowded rooms to get past him.

He'd repay it back by snaking his arm around your waist then let his hands wander for a few seconds before letting go. At some point he couldn't handle all the teasing and would smack your ass whenever you both were alone.

You were going back and forth for days on end and it really shocked you considering he almost didn't even want you there, based on how Jess told you her conversation with him went.

But you were glad you were able to prove him wrong, and somehow were able to get him to flirt with you back, felt like a miracle considering what the other spiders were telling you about him. But you weren't going to complain.

Definitely won't complain.

I was coming back from my earth after finally deciding on giving my wig a go again, mostly because I loved the feeling of the long ponytail swinging back and forth when fighting. And for everyone's immersion since people were still staring.

Maybe I should fix up my other suit... though it's more fun to be in this one...

I shrugged my thoughts away and walk around, heading towards the training room simply minding my business when I walk past one of the many gyms and take a quick peek because my spidey senses went off.

I peep through the window and smirk, Miguel was in there. Perfect.

Impeccable timing.

I open the door and walk in, walking towards him then lean on the pull up machine Miguel was using and watch as he lifts himself up and down. The sweat glistening off his biceps and shoulders, absolutely perfection for my hungry eyes.

He continues his reps not paying attention to me at all which I didn't really mind, considering he was the perfect eye candy. I take a step back and walk behind him almost moaning at the sight, his back muscles and the way they were stretching and tightening with every movement.

It wasn't the first time I saw him shirtless but something about seeing his bare skin just had my mind and body going wild every time. He was different than any of the men I've ever seen or seduced back home which had me feeling excited because this was like brand new ground, or more so fresh meat. I couldn't help but want him.

I bite my lip and just stand there watching in awe and unable to peel my eyes from him. I take a step to the other end of the machine and lean against it, him still not stopping and letting out occasional grunts.

God he sounded as good as he looks...

He side eyes me and looked away before doing a double take and stopping, hanging off the machine for a second before letting go and standing in front of me with an eyebrow raised, letting out a chuckle then a smirk forming on his lips. "Silver looks good on you, gatita."

"Crees que si Miggy?" I ask and do an exaggerated little twirl then flip my hair back. (Think so?)

"Absolutamente." He breathes out making me smirk. (Absolutely)

"Thought everyone would like it." I say and give him an innocent smile.

I bat my lashes up at him as he grabs a towel from the bench behind us and wipes down the sweat from his forehead. He looks so fucking good.

I kept my eyes on his, fighting my dirty thoughts like wanting to trail down his body but somehow remaining focused on his eyes. "Nomas te encanta la atención huh?" He teased and I chuckle. (You just love the attention huh?)

I shrug them nod, "Tal ves... pero no creo que me puedes culpar..." I say and take a step closer to him, reaching a hand up to trail along his bicep. (Maybe... but I don't think you can blame me...)

"Menos porque agarre tu atención." I whisper and smile. (Especially because I got your attention)

"Siempre tienes mi atención gatita." He murmurs as he snakes his hands around my waist pulling me closer to him. (You always have my attention)

I felt my heart race as well as a familiar heat arose in my core, I needed him. Badly.

I wrap my arms behind his neck and look deeply into his eyes, he wants this just as much as I do. I can feel it.

I feel myself leaning in and watch as he does the same, our lips now millimeters apart from each other, craving for just a small taste. My stomach was fluttering as I felt him softly breathing on my nose, my face getting warm and I didn't even mind.

We both lean in at the same time, our lips finally meeting in a slow dance together. I couldn't help the small smile that popped up when he kissed me back softly, it felt so right.

Suddenly my spidey senses went off and I pulled away, taking my hands off him. I turn to look at the entrance of the gym and sure enough was Peter B Parker walking in mumbling to himself with Mayday chilling on his shoulder. I let out a disappointed sigh, shaking my head as I hear Miguel groan and see him gritting his teeth out of the corner of my eye.

I clear my throat and turn to him, "I guess I'll catch you soon."

I walk past Peter and lightly ruffing Mayday's hair then turn my head to look at Miguel giving him a wink before turning back and walk out.

So close.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

You were assigned on a mission to capture a Kingpin who wasn't where he was meant to be, along with Peter B Parker who had accompanied you because he didn't have Mayday with him that day and apparently wanted some thrill on the random Wednesday night.

You were prepared and ready to do whatever it took to get him, and already mentally prepared to possibly use some charm if needed...

And you'd already escaped him once so surely you could capture just as easily as he did you.

"Peter what kind of surprise attack is that?!?" I yell and groan, swinging away from the hidden position I was in at the bank Kingpin was at. Peter just had to announce we were here...

"I couldn't help myself! The big guy was rambling on and on to himself-" Peter starts to defend himself but gets cut off by said big guy going in for a punch to his face but he quickly backs up and gasps.

"That was not cool-" Peter tells Kingpin, pointing a finger in his face then shoots balls of webs at his face making him growl.

"Y'know he's not the only one who rambles to himself..." i mutter and snort thinking of the events from yesterday.

"Oh yeah! Y'know I wanted to ask you about that, what's going on between you and Miguel?" He asks looking up to face me as I look down with an unamused look on my face.

Normally I would've told him, but after yesterday no fucking way!! How could a man be a cockblock like that and expect to still get gossip??

"Nothing..." I say casually and jump down from the railing and onto Kingpin's back.

He starts moving back and I climb up his long back and shoot out ropes of webs and wrap them around his throat. "Then why do his eyes light up every time you enter a room?" He says and folds his arms against his chest in front of us.

My eyes widen and I almost stop webbing when I snap myself out of it and shake my head, "do they now?"

"Maybe... maybe not but now curiosity's gonna kill the cat huh?" He teases and I roll my eyes. Devious little fucker.

"Well...." I start but Peter immediately opens his mouth. "Ha! I knew you wanted to spill-"

"Who the fuck is Miguel-" Kingpin breaths out and tries to pull on the webs which just makes me tug on them harder.

"Shut up!"

"Cállate pendejo!!" (Shut up asshole)

Peter then webs his entire body, swinging around all the empty space of the bank and making sure it was extra tight so he couldn't get away. I jumped off and stood in front of Kingpin who looked only slightly different than the one from my earth. Still had a huge ass body and annoying but he looked much younger.

"Easy!" Peter exclaims and pretends to wipe off dirt from his suit.

"So...." Hs says and wiggle his eyebrows at me.

I burst out laughing, shaking my head in disbelief that he wanted to know so badly. I mean surely he talked to Miguel after I left?

"So what Peter?" I ask and look down at my watch, pressing a few buttons and watch a portal spawn in front of us.

He grabs the ends of the rope and begins tugging Kingpin towards the portal. "Well obviously there's tension... there's something there." He says and I merrily smile.

"It's complicated but it makes perfect sense for us i guess." I respond and shrug walking into the portal with Peter following right behind me.

A portal opens at HQ, luckily right where we drop the anomalies to the go home machine. Some spiders jog over to us and put Kingpin in a force field cage before taking him away.

I sigh and turn around only to have Peter looking at me with narrowed eyes and his hands on his hips. "Peter-"

"I wanna know how bad I should feel for interrupting the moment yesterday." He says making me shake my head laughing.

"Peter it's fine-"

"Tell me."

I sigh and shrug, "I don't even know myself. I mean I guess we're both flirty?"

"So it's mutual?" He asks and I shrug again.

"Very interesting..." he says and brings a hand up to exaggeratedly pretend to rub his invisible beard.

"Yeah people keep saying that...." I say raising an eyebrow at him and he finally looks at me normally.

"Well I'd say give it a shot, grumpy men need some lovin' too y'know?" He replies with the most serious tone ever.

I chuckle and nod, "yeah I guess we'll see..."

"Just have patience with him." He says and I sigh.

"I will."

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

You had a mission then another straight after, the first being a breeze but the second being much harder than expected.

A Doc Ock, much stronger than you had anticipated, and you thought you had it under control. You had to think fast to save yourself.

I widened my eyes when I felt a tentacle quickly grab me from behind, thinking I had maneuvered fast enough him to not catch me. I was wrong.

I groan as it slams me against a wall then makes another go to my throat and repeatedly punches me with a third. The tentacle around my body had a very tight grip on me, and i didn't have any choice but just to take it.

With every punch from the metal tentacle I felt more and more pain on my cheek and jaw, my skin felt hot, it was starting to sting and I could taste the blood in my mouth.

Thinking quickly and before losing consciousness, I have in mind of giving good ole Doc some bad luck. It usually took a while but right now I didn't have time so I just closed my eyes and thought of all the possible bad luck that could happen to this man right now.

My spider senses go off making my eyes shoot open as I look up to see a billboard above us falling down towards us. He raised an eyebrow at me and look up as well, his grip loosened for a singular second which was enough for me to slip out of his grasp before harshly pushing him out of the way.

We both fell a couple feet away as the billboard fell where we just were within seconds. I let out a deep breath before standing up and quickly use my webs to tie him up. I walk behind him as he groans and press a little button behind his neck and see as the tentacles detach from him.

I sigh and gather them before webbing them up together then press the buttons on my watch to spawn the portal. I grab him by his collar and make him stand up as I drag the tentacles by the end of my web.

I walk us through the portal and it opens up to where we put anomalies after capturing. A few spiders come up to me and quickly take him and putting him and his tentacles in a force field like cage.

I sigh and wipe my forehead, suddenly feeling the pain on my face. Shit.

I bring a hand up to my cheek and am instantly met with blood, i sniffle, slowly feeling some blood drip down onto my lip. I groan and quickly swing away heading to the medical center to put on some bandaids.

I drop down and walk in, looking for an available room to go in quick then leave. I make a turn and accidentally bump into someone. "My bad." I mumble not looking up and went around whoever I bumped into until I'm yanked back.

I yelp then look up to see Miguel and sigh, "Oh sorry Miguel-"

He looks at me for a millisecond before interrupting, "Come with me." He grabs my hand leading me towards a room.

I groan but follow anyway, not really having a choice since he was practically dragging me with him. He peeps through a door then walks in with me right behind him. He lets go of my hand and motions for me to sit down, which I oblige not really in a mood to argue or protest.

He quickly collects stuff from a cabinet then walks back to me. He puts the alcohol, bandages and gauze down next to me before bringing a hand up to my face slowly. His fingers grab my mask gently, and he peels it off making me groan as I bring a hand to the bridge of my nose. I feel his hand gently on my chin, moving it up, "it's not that bad..." I mutter, mostly trying to convince myself that the pain could be worse.

I lightly bite my lip, tasting the blood as I look up at his eyes, trying so hard to not look worried. He looks away and grabs the bottle of rubbing alcohol and putting some on a gauze pad. I sigh and place my hands on my lap as he brings the pad up to my forehead hesitantly. "I can handle it Miguel." I say looking into his eyes again.

He nods and places it on the wide wound I had along my forehead, remembering how many other bruises and slashes I had was the only thing distracting me from the stinging of the alcohol. Soon enough the pad was off and he had opened a bandage and placed it over the wound before gently placing a hand along my jaw and looking at my cheek.

He pulls away and gets another pad, adding alcohol to it then looks into my eyes. I nod slowly and he puts the pad against my cheek, it instantly burning making me fight back tears and a groan. He bit his lip fully concentrated as he wiped along the wound carefully and I couldn't help but think of how gorgeous he was. At a time like this?

Well to be honest I couldn't think of a better scenario for us.

He places the bloody pad down and opens another bandage, it being slightly bigger this time and gently placed it on my cheek. He sighs and rubs his finger against the bandage softly, making me melt into his touch. "The rest are just little scratches, but take a rest day tomorrow, I'm not giving you any missions and it's not up for debate." He says sternly and I just sigh.

"I guess..." I mumble and he pulls his hand away making me frown.

It felt nice.

A silence filled the room as we looked at each other, my mind going straight to our short lived kiss from the other day. His lips were so soft and warm, I had still felt their touch lingering after I pulled away and there's nothing I've wanted more than to feel them again. It's all I've been thinking about even on missions, it's always in the back part of my mind.

I couldn't help it, out of all the men I've flirted with in the past he was just different than all of them combined. He was attentive, and stern but sweet when he wanted to be. I've grown closer to him in the past few weeks and even if it's unexpected for everyone, for me it feels great. It feels right and I couldn't get him out of my head if i wanted to.

With the way he was looking at me I felt like he was thinking about it as well. Lips parted staring down at my own while I looked at his eyes then down at his lips. I lightly bit mine and feel a sense of nervousness in my stomach. This effect he has on me was intense. Now more than ever.

He cleared his throat making me look back up to his eyes, his pretty crimson eyes that I could stare into forever if I could. "How are you feeling?"

I shrug and clear my throat as well trying to hide my thoughts, "I'm fine, just hurts a little." I say making him nod.

Another silence.

He coughed and took a step back, his eyes seemed almost worried which had me a tad bit confused, my wounds weren't too bad and I know he has had worse. Unless.... he was starting to care?

"I'm serious about no missions tomorrow-"

"I know."

He sighs and folds his arms across his chest, this almost feels like it's going to turn into a lecture. Or something along those lines...

"What's bothering you Miguel?" I ask and he shakes his head.

Right as he opens his mouth I interrupt him knowing he'll try to lie, "No digas que nada porque ya te conozco mejor." I say and point a finger at him. (Don't say nothing because now I know you better)

He shakes his head again and sighs, I raise an eyebrow and feel my heart beat faster as he takes a step closer to me. "I just-"

He sighs and faces me, looking me directly in the eye, "I can't get you out of my mind and I hate it."

I bite my lip and nod, "I haven't stopped thinking of that kiss," I say and reach out to grab his arm, pulling him towards me, "but I don't hate it." I whisper and spread my legs so he can stand right between.

"Gatita..." he murmurs and I just hum, innocently wrapping my legs around his waist and pull him in as closely as I could.

"We shouldn't...." He whispers looking away, but I took notice of the redness in his cheeks and the way he wasn't shoving me away as a good sign.

"But you want to.." I whisper back and he sighs.

I bring my hands up and wrap them behind his neck, making him visibly breathe harder, "estas bien Miguel... just let me..." I whisper inches away from his lips. (You're okay)

I then lean in and peck his lips, testing the waters out, when I felt him kiss back I started kissing him with no worries. I felt his hands go down to my thighs, lightly squeezing as I brought mine up to his chest.

He squeezed my inner thigh and with the other hand brought it up to cup my cheek, kissing me so gently. I trace around his chest and trail up to his collarbone when he pulls away making me pout but he moved my head back and to the side. His lips then latched on to my neck making me gasp at the quickness he was moving but it was perfect.

He leaves kisses all over my skin while one hand continued squeezing my thigh and the other was now by my lower back, sneaking it's way down to my ass. I let out a sigh and bring my hands up to grip his curls as he chooses a spot for him to mark.

"Am I a problem for you now?" I ask out of breath and bite my lip to fight off the laughter.

He groans and pulls away to look at me, i fight back the urge to laugh as he rolls his eyes then sheepishly smiles. I grin and pull him in for another kiss which he doesn't complain about.

Until he pulls away and grabs me carefully, making me step off the bed, bringing me down to my knees. I fight back a moan and look up at him, batting my lashes at him.

Suddenly the lower half of his suit disappears and with that revealing his cock. Long and thick, already dripping precum as it sprung up and hit his stomach. My eyes were wide and I may as well have been drooling. Wow.

I quickly get to work, grabbing the base of it and licking off the precum that was falling off to the side and down a vein. I lick it off slowly while looking him directly in the eyes, making him moan and tilt his head back.

I smile, going back up to the tip I give it a few kisses before sticking my tongue out and lightly slap it on my tongue. "No juegues conmigo gatita-" he says and I pout. (Don't play with me)

"De verdad ya estas tan desesperado?" I tease and he groans. (Are you really already so desperate?)

"Me vas a matar-" he mutters but I cut him off by taking him on my mouth, slowly taking him in. (You're gonna kill me)

He moans and shakes his head then groans, "Tómalo- tómalo todo gatita-" (Take it, take it all)

I take more of him, feeling my mouth already be filled and I was barely getting halfway. I controlled my breathing as best as I could and took another inch, now feeling his tip nearing my throat.

I move my head back and forth, trying to keep up a decent pace but considering how thick he was, I was struggling. But he didn't seem to mind.

Suddenly he thrusts his hips making me gag on it and I quickly pull back then move my head forward taking as much of him as I could take down my throat. He moans and I feel his hands on my head, making me stay in place.

He groans then lets me go as I pull it out of my mouth and showcase all the drool that was dribbling down my mouth and on to my suit. I slap it on my tongue again then give him a wide smile as I wipe the drool from my chin.

Then back to business I take his cock in my mouth and start deep throating him again, feeling more comfortable now. I look up at him and see him with his mouth open, letting out groans then biting his lip. He is fucking incredible.

"God I can't believe this is finally happening- you have no idea how many times I've thought about this- just s-stroking myself thinking of y-you on your k-knees like this." He confesses and grabs my hair, pushing me deeper. "Just for me." He breathes out and groans.

I moan against him and squeeze my thighs feeling the arousal between my legs swirl around in my panties. He's stroked himself thinking of me on my knees? I couldn't believe what he just said, am I dreaming? How is this real? How'd I get so lucky?

I move my head faster and kept my hands to my sides as i made sure to take every inch of him. How could I disappoint him after he's had wet dreams about me? I couldn't do that...

I close my eyes, feeling them brink with tears as he now started to fuck my throat slowly. The little hairs at the end of his happy trail tickling my nose every time he thrusted all the way and stayed there a few seconds.

He groaned and continued thrusting into my mouth still holding onto my hair like it were helping him. I just let him and felt myself growing more and more wet as this continued on.

I open my eyes and feel a few tears slip but then notice Miguel's legs were shaking and he was slowing down. I felt giddy that was I able to take him and make him cum when he suddenly pulls away, slipping himself out of my mouth making me whine. "Miguel you were about to-"

"I don't care-" he growls and reaches down, grabbing my arms pulling me up with him.

He then turns me around and bends me over the bed making me yelp. He moves my hair to the side and starts undoing my suit. He zips it down as fast but carefully as he could and when it got down to the bottom which was by my lower back, his hands quickly came up to start taking it off.

His hands went straight to my shoulders peeling the spandex off as i was taking it off my fingers, god this suit was so frustrating.

He groans as I fumble with the spandex on my right hand and I bite my lip, "How mad would you be if I ripped your suit?" He asks and I scoff.

"You mean my only suit?" I say and finally manage to slip it off every finger.

He groans again and takes the sleeves off my arms then brings it down my body slowly as I lift myself up a bit. He's taking it off my stomach, then down to my hips when I head him take a deep breath when he finally brings it up and over my ass revealing my red thong.

I then feel a hard smack against it making me jump and moan, fuck.

"Te gusta eh?" He teases and I feel myself melt into the bed, speechless and in awe. (You like that)

He's so perfect-

"Contéstame." He demands then gives me another smack, this one stinging more than the first, leaving my legs shaking a bit. (Answer me)

"Si- si me gusta..." I whine and lay my face into the bed. (Yes- yes I like it...)

"No fallas de sorprenderme gatita." He murmurs and gently rubs my ass. (You don't fail to surprise me)

I move my head to the side and chuckle, "Es bueno verdad?" I ask quietly and he hums. (That's good right?)

"Ni te imaginas..." he responds and blows a bit of air against my aching cunt. (you can't even imagine...)

I take a deep breath in, not at all prepared for whatever he has in mind. I didn't think we'd ever actually get anywhere near this...

But I couldn't deny how happy I felt that it was happening...

Definitely worth the wait.

"Estas tan hermosa gatita." He whispers and I felt a kiss against the back of my thigh. (You're so gorgeous)

My cheeks immediately grow warm and I just sigh, feeling his fingers slip onto my folds. I feel my eyes flutter as he continues his slow movements, tormenting me. "Miguel por favor." I whine and move my hips up, needing more. (please)

"Paciencia nena." He coos softly and teases my entrance with the tip of his finger. (Patience baby girl)

"Please-" I whine, earning myself a hard smack against my ass.

A whimper escapes my lips when he suddenly slips a finger inside, excruciatingly slow. But how the hell could a singular finger feel so fulfilling? Even if he wasn't moving it yet...

I close my eyes and bring my ass up, making sure to arch my back with my head still against the bed. "Good girl." He whispers softly and adds a second finger.

I couldn't help the moans that came out as he slowly starts to finger fuck me, my arousal enveloping his fingers as he starts to pump them faster. I didn't think his fingers would feel this fucking good otherwise I would've tried harder to get him to fuck me. I feel myself clench against his fingers with my thighs shaking to top it off.

"Miguel~"

He hums and pushes them deeper then curling them up to hit that spot that has me practically seeing stars. I let out some whimpers and let myself be fully indulged in the moment.

I lazily lay down, ass still somewhat in the air with him still fucking me but now my stomach was now directly on the bed. His fingers continued going deep but he was going faster now and it was getting hard to control the noises that left my mouth.

Deep down I didn't care if we were caught, i don't think either of us would want to stop, but still I knew I should keep my volume somewhat quiet. Especially considering we were in the medical area where there's likely to be tons of spiders getting fixed up.

And the fact that we definitely shouldn't be doing this here specifically...

My thoughts are cut short when I don't feel his fingers inside me anymore, giving Miguel my full undivided attention I turn my head around to look at him, "What the fuck-"

My breath hitches in my throat when I feel the tip of his cock rubbing against my wet folds. I feel my pussy clench onto absolutely nothing as he continues swirling his tip with my arousal. "Miguel-" I breathe out, letting out a shaky moan.

"So fucking soaked." He mutters under his throat and moves his tip down to my aching clit.

He rubs circles against it instantly earning himself whimpers slip out from me. I move my head back facing forward again, covering my mouth and biting my lip as an extra precaution but it was so hard being quiet when he was teasing me like that. "Fuck-" he moans as he positions himself, now feeling his tip by my entrance.

He pushed into me slowly making me bite my hand, really trying my hardest to stay quiet. After the past weeks we've been tormenting each other and all the possible sexual tension that's been building, he was finally fucking me. I finally had him where I wanted him all along and it was so fucking good. Perfect even.

I was able to feel myself stretch around him and he just felt better than I'd have ever imagined. He stretched me out but fit oh so perfectly and it was as if he was a missing puzzle I so desperately needed.

He grunted as he buttomed out and brought his hands down to my hips, helping me bounce against him. I lifted my lower half up, now no longer lazily laying down. He digs his fingers into my skin as he pulls back then slams right back into me.

I let out a whimper as he moaned and finally started moving, at first slowly fucking into me before he suddenly started pounding into me. I cried against my hand and bit my lip again, it's like he wanted me to make noise, or to let us get caught.

Not this time.

He let out strings of groans and moans as he continued his fast pace, not having a care in the world if we're heard. "Me estás tomando tan bien gatita." He moaned out and left a hard smack against my ass. (You're taking me so well)

I whimpered and felt myself clench against him, making the both of us moan at the same time. I was already noticing my vision get blurry and my legs feeling like jelly all while he thrusted his hips into me not ever stopping or slowing down but instead going harder.

"Shit! Miguel- se siente tan rico-" I whine and press my cheek against my hands now freely letting out moans. Fuck it. (feels so good)

"Ya se mami, ya se." He groans and I feel one of his hands grasp onto my ponytail. (I know, I know)

He pulls my hair tugging it a bit so I move my head back making him moan and completely stop, but buried deep inside me. I whimper at the loss of his pounding but then gasp as he brings me up carefully with his other hand and letting go of my hair.

I was now sitting up right on my knees with him still inside me, I felt a shiver run through my body as he brought his arms up and wrapped them around my waist. "You're so beautiful." He whispers in my ear, leaving a small kiss against my neck.

He brings a hand down to my stomach, right where the bulge of him was. He presses lightly making me sigh and lay my head against his hard chest. "You feel so perfect baby." He murmurs and I bite my lip then bring my hands to wrap them around his arms for stability.

"Y te ves tan perfecta." He purrs making me melt into him. (And you look so perfect)

"Miguel-"

"Shh..." he hushes and moved the hand from my stomach and brings it up, grazing my skin softly.

His hands lands on to my left breast, he squeezed it gently then moved his hips back. I sigh and grip onto his arms as he slams back into me making me moan in surprise. "Mi-"

Finally deciding where to leave his hands over my body he starts moving again, thrusting his hips into me as he holds a steady grip on my body. My tits bounced in the same rhythm he was fucking me and it already felt so overstimulating. He pinched my left nipple and moaned out sweet little nothings into my ear as he kept his pace and making sure I wouldn't just drop onto the bed.

His body towered over me even though I was on top of the bed, taking notice of his size compared to mine was starting to make my head spin. He was just so tall and wide, buff even, I was much smaller compared to him and it made me shake in pure excitement. I've never had a man of his stature just ravage me like he was doing right now and that thought alone was pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

"Just like that Miguel-" I breathe out but then feel a hand against my throat cutting me off.

"Fuck baby you're taking me so well." He groans and lightly squeezes my throat.

What sounded like a muffled whimper slipped from my lips making his hand around my waist grip me tighter. He rammed into me as if there was no tomorrow and I gladly let him. In what world would I tell him to stop?

"This is what you wanted isn't it gatita? Hmm?" He grunts and I nod.

"Just needed me to manhandle you and take you how I want." He mutters and another combination of a cry and moan leaves my lips. Holy fuck-

The mixed sounds of our joint moans of pleasure and him senselessly pounding into me filled my ears and I couldn't think of better things I could possibly listen to.

His hold on me made it seem as if he thinks I'd disappear out of thin air if he let me go, it wasn't a complaint more of an observation that had me squeezing his arms, needing him as close to me as possible.

He finally let go of my throat which made me breathe in then pant followed by whines as he snaked that hand down to my clit, rubbing slow circles against it. My back arches against him and I subconsciously tilt my head to the side which he quickly took advantage of and latched his lips onto my neck.

He sucked feverishly and I felt my eyes flutter at the overstimulation. He moans against my skin before licking the new branded mark. I bring a hand up to his face and look up at him, as if reading my mind he smashed his lips onto mine in a needing passionate kiss.

I kissed back as best as I could, feeling my legs slowly give up on me but his grip on me never loosened and his pace now slowing down. I felt him twitch inside me and i quickly felt my orgasm approaching, that all too familiar feeling in my tummy that has made my legs become a shaking mess and my sex leaving a creamy ring against Miguel's base with every thrust.

He slipped his tongue into my mouth and I tried to match his energy but that knot in my stomach was ready to explode. And it did.

My walls pulsating against him as my orgasm washed over my entire body, leaving me a shaking mess on him. I let out cries in his mouth as he gently held on to me and moaned into my mouth as well, feeling him shoot ropes of his warm cum deep inside me. He pulled away and gently pecked my lips which i happily reciprocated.

We pulled away, he leaned his forehead against my head as we both caught our breath. I felt my heartbeat calm down as he held me now gently. I didn't even notice when his hand moved from my clit to properly hold me but I just ignored it and melted into his arms.

He then slips out of me making me whimper at the empty feeling but look down to see his cum oozing out of me and onto the poor medical bed. I stifle a laugh and look into Miguel's eyes, he was already looking at me. I feel my cheeks burn up and I can't help but sheepishly grin, him returning it back.

He lets me go and sets me down on the edge of the bed then sits down next to me. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and I instantly snuggle up to his chest making him move his arms to wrap them around my body.

"You did so good gatita." He whispers and I nod, my breathing now completely normal but now feeling butterflies all over my skin.

"It was about time, don't ya think?" I joke quietly and he laughs.

I sigh and just listen to the thumps of his heartbeat as he caresses my hair gently and leaves kisses on the top of my head. He really was perfect.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara smut #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel o hara #miguel o’hara smut

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murdrdocs · 2 years

Text

girl with the tattoo | e.munson

description. eddie pays for your first tattoo without knowing what it is you’re getting. when you finally show him, he practically flips his shit.

includes. SMUT 16+, dom! eddie, sub!reader, slightly meandom!eddie, doggy style sex, cum play (it’s nasty tbh), handcuffs, degradation, praise, pet names, ass slapping, sweet boyfriend eddie,the whole nine yards it seems, unprotected sex, creampie, fem!reader, AFAB!reader, very brief rimming

a/n. eventually i will stop naming fics after songs but no time soon. this has been sitting unfinished in my docs for so long that i just had to suck it up and finish it so. here we are :D also longest fic i’ve written in a while

word count. 3.6k+ words

Eddie was not known for his patience.

In all of your years of knowing him, you had never seen him display any act of patience. He liked for things to happen immediately, almost as if he only knew what patience is but not how to possess it. Sometimes, just to mock him you would tell him that “patience is a virtue”, only for him to say, “Yeah, whatever that means”.

Knowing about Eddie's impatient personality, you knew that it was going to be hell to keep your new tattoo a surprise. He obviously knew you were getting it, as he was the one funding the new piece. But when you told him that he couldn’t accompany you to the appointment, you swore that he was going to go into cardiac arrest.

He had a mini meltdown, but you managed to calm him. Only for a few hours though as he quickly began to realize that when you said he couldn’t see it, you meant he couldn’t see it until it was healed.

What followed was 2 and a half weeks of Eddie only being allowed to see small fractions of your skin, and using his critical thinking skills to eliminate the places where your tattoo could be, narrowing it down to your upper thigh, ass or boobs.

All the while, you promised him it would be worth it. And while at first he didn’t believe you, now, he truly does.

Because there you are, sitting on his bed with your legs folded under you, wearing a pretty underwear set and looking like the most delicate thing he’s ever seen.

“Do you wanna see it?” You ask, voice light and just a little bit shaky as if you’re nervous.

Eddie was so distracted by just how beautiful you looked that he forgot that you were here for a reason. He’s this close to asking what exactly the ‘it’ is, but then his brain restarts and he comes back to himself, nodding his head so hard he has to stop before it begins to hurt.

You take a deep breath, chest rising and putting your cleavage even more on display. Finally gathering the courage, you shuffle around until your back is facing Eddie. Your head turns, shoulder coming to your chin as you peek back to glance at Eddie.

His dark eyes work to find the tattoo, scanning every crevice of your back from top to bottom until there, he finds it.

Sitting in the middle of your back, directly above your mesh pink panties, is a black butterfly etched into your skin. On either side is some impressive, symmetrical line work, enhancing the focus of the design which is the insect.

Eddie doesn’t respond for a while, and if it weren’t for his heavy breathing and occasional blinking, you would think that he was unconscious.

“Do you like it?” You eventually ask, beginning to shrink in on yourself in fear that you made a permanent mistake.

“Like it?” Eddie repeats, beginning to approach you. “Baby, I love it.”

He reaches a hand out, the right one, and sprawls his fingers out over the tattoo. You flinch at the cold metal of his rings and Eddie chuckles, mumbling out a halfhearted “sorry” before he singles out his pointer fingers and trails it over the linework.

“Really?” You ask, voice light and hopeful. “I was really nervous your guy would fuck it up.”

Eddie’s finger is now in the middle of your back, at the pointed end of the heart and close to the line of your panties. “Adonis never fucks up tattoos. Dude’s got a touch for these sorts of things.”

He takes his finger away and for a brief second, you miss his touch. But you don’t have to miss it for long because then Eddie’s hands grip your waist, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into your skin as you turn your head back around to stare at the wall in front of you.

Eddie begins asking you questions about your tattoo; if it hurt during the process, how long did it take. He insists that he should’ve been there to hold your hand and crack jokes, but you reassured him that you had a friend to rely on.

Eventually, you have to reorient him by simply speaking his name.

“Hm?” He hums, thumbs still rubbing your skin.

You sigh, turning your head and glancing over your shoulder. Eddie instantly meets your eye, like a compass to the north.

“You sure it doesn’t look bad? I didn’t make a mistake, right?”

Eddie’s face softens completely. “A mistake? Baby, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You were already so fucking hot but with this tattoo? Whew!” Eddie is back to being theatrical, hands leaving your back to dramatically fan his face.

You giggle, taking the moment to turn your body around completely, shuffling in a semicircle using your knees.

Eddie calms down, his gaze getting that look to it as he tilts his head down. His hand reaches out to find yours, gently tugging it forward.

“Just feel what it does to me. Feel what you do to me.” He brings your hand to his crotch, letting you palm him through his skinny jeans. You can feel the growing bulge against your hand, the familiar feeling igniting that urge within you, sinking all the way down to your belly.

“Eddie.” You whisper, watching Eddie’s tongue dart out to lick his lips.

“It’s healed, right?” He asks. You nod softly and the movement is halted a little too soon when Eddie lunges forward to push his lips against yours.

You welcome his kiss, both of your hands reaching up to cup Eddie’s face. His hands wrap around your wrist, and then he’s pulling them off of his face and guiding them behind your back, one wrist over the other.

When he pulls his hands away, yours stay obediently in their position. You feel Eddie’s smirk against your lips and it acts as a form of nonverbal praise.

Eddie pulls his lips away from yours and you have to restrain yourself from chasing them. He doesn’t stray far and when he speaks you can feel his lips move against yours.

“Wanna fuck you while I look at that pretty tattoo. Will you let me do that?”

It takes you a second to realize that Eddie is asking to fuck you from the back, doggystyle. But when your brain is able to come to that realization, you nod so hard that your nose knocks into Eddie’s and your forehead bumps into his.

He smiles, big and wide, and steadies your head by gripping your cheeks, pushing them together and gazing lovingly at the sight. You attempt to smile and Eddie breaks out into a laugh, squishing and un-squishing your cheeks for the better half of a minute.

Eventually, you ask, “Are you gonna fuck me or not?” But your cheeks make the words come out as jumbled syllables and Eddie asks you to repeat it a few times, until he understands with a loud “Oh!”.

“Of course.” He chirps, pressing his lips to your squished ones before he drops his hands completely and instead uses them to maneuver you in the position he desires: your face pressed down into the sheets and your ass in the air.

Eddie marvels at the sight, wolf whistling at you for a moment. Your hands are still held obediently behind your back and by moving your shoulders, you bring Eddie’s attention to them.

“Just a few more,” He mumbles, trailing off as you hear him move away. You see him from the corner of your eye grabbing his pair of handcuffs. They’re a different pair from the silver ones he had before, these with black fur on the insides and a bit of cushion so they’re comfortable for you.

When he comes back around, his hands peel your panties off and you lift one knee at a time to let him slip them off. Then, his hands pull you up by your hips and his chest presses against your back as his arms encircle you, pulling yours from behind your back with the movement.

You watch as he directs you to position your wrists side by side against your stomach, and then wraps the opened cuffs around each one and closes them with a few clicks.

He kisses your shoulder, then your cheek, and mumbles something about not wanting to obstruct the view before he’s gently pushing your upper half back down and resuming his position behind you.

You wait in anticipation, taking in the sound of Eddie’s belt buckle, then the sound of his jackets hitting the ground, then the slide of his zipper and thudding of more denim hitting the ground.

Then, finally, you feel the bed dip behind you and you tense up, waiting while Eddie spreads your cheeks.

But you’re instantly relaxed when you feel Eddie’s tongue around your asshole, running around the puckered entrance in a circle.

The moan you let out is choked, shocked at first and then silky smooth once you get used to the feeling.

“Eddie, I–” All words are lost on your tongue at the foreign feeling.

“I know, sweetheart.” He pulls away for a second to tell you, then circling your hole twice more before pulling away completely. “Some other time.” He mumbles and you feel saddened for a second, but then Eddie is pushing his finger into your other hole, the one you’re used to, and you're moaning again, hips pushing back towards him.

Eddie hisses, the sound having a hint of shock and amusement to it. “Already so wet,” He muses. “Barely have to do any work.” Yet, he still pushes another finger into you, your cunt welcoming the added digit easily.

You don’t realize that you’re pushing yourself back, fucking yourself on Eddie’s fingers. But he does, stalling his hand and staring down at your ass moving forward and back with wide eyes. “So eager,” He comments, making you aware of your movements.

“Sorry.” You mumble, turning your head from having its cheeks to the sheets to instead force your entire face down into them, embarrassment taking over your entire body briefly as you scrunch your face up. It wasn’t your fault that you were left to your own devices for almost three weeks.

Although, it technically was your fault.

“‘S okay, baby. If it makes you feel any better, I’m eager to get into this tight little pussy.” You can hear the smile in his words and a giddy feeling fills up your body, starting from your pelvis and spreading to your chest where it's like little butterflies are flying.

You don’t have anytime to respond because then Eddie is asking you if he should use a condom or not. You hesitate, thinking over it and repositioning your cheek onto the covers.

Eddie gives you time to think, one of his large palms spreading over one of your ass cheeks, his fingers working to knead the flesh.

Eventually, you settle on a decision. “No condom,” You declare, eyes bright even though Eddie couldn’t see them.

“M’kay.” He says, a smile evident in his words, his palm disconnecting with your skin only to come back down onto it harshly, the rings on his fingers digging into your skin.

You flinch, mumbling a small “ow” into the sheets, to which Eddie gives a halfhearted ‘sorry’ in response to.

There’s some shuffling behind you. Eddie’s hands come to your hips and he manhandles you into the perfect position, pulling you back until your feet are hanging off the bed. He shifts his hips forward, his hands holding onto your hips tight, until his tip is right against your entrance.

You hold your breath, accidentally tensing before you force yourself to relax. Eddie rewards you by pushing in, slow and steady, allowing you room to adjust and get comfortable. He stops when he’s halfway through, and you’re the one to egg him on, pushing your hips backward until he gets the memo enough to bottom out.

Eddie wastes no time.

He pistons into you with a steady, moderate pace, not too fast nor slow. Yet, slower than you anticipated, but you’d welcome anything Eddie chooses to give you. And you tell him that with little, breathy gasps, turning your head to make sure none of them are muffled and are able to be heard by Eddie.

“There you go, pretty girl,” He says. You wonder if he’s speaking with the intended outcome of you hearing or not, because the words are so soft that the subtle squelch of your cunt sucking Eddie in, and letting him out, is louder.

Still, you let a little moan out in response, eyebrows pushing together as you attempt to hold yourself back from asking Eddie for more.

But eventually, you give in to your own needs.

“More, please, Eddie.” Is all you say, simple and pleading. You can practically hear the gears in Eddie’s head turning, attempting to decide if he should give in to you or not, the little devil and angel on his shoulders no doubt bickering amongst each other.

He ends up listening to the angel (which is you in pure white, but Eddie would never admit that), hips speeding up just enough for him to pick up the pace, but also with enough slow precision for him to bury himself deep in you, cock angled almost perfectly.

You help him out, babbling mumbles of ‘thank you’ while you tilt and turn your hips until Eddie’s cock hits that spot that you didn’t even know you were looking for.

The moan you let out is loud and chesty, coming from that same place where butterflies previously erupted.

“Right there?” Eddie asks, delivering repeated thrusts to that spot you’d angled him to. You nod, the movement uncomfortable due to the position of your head.

“There.” You confirm, back arching and pushing your cunt further back towards Eddie.

You groan, eyes rolling back into your head as you press your chest further down into the sheets. Eddie’s in you deep, hitting the spot you instructed him to, over and over and over again.

You know that you’re as physically close to Eddie as you could get, but there’s something in your brain that’s telling you that you could get closer. Like a pied piper, you follow it.

You move your arms from against your chest to above your head, fingers curling around a pillow you can find. With a few inches of freed space, you fully press your chest against Eddie’s bed, tits squished against the sheets that were definitely not cleaned since the last time you were here.

Your mouth’s open, drool pooling out of the side between little moans you let out.

You can’t feel it, but there’s arousal dripping down your inner thighs, creating a pornographic trail, all leading to those same dirtied sheets. The sheets you’re currently making a mess of.

Hopefully, if things went your way, they would have an even bigger mess to them by the time Eddie was finished.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans from behind you, his fingers digging into your hips harshly. You whine and squirm, trying to get away from the bruising grip Eddie has on you.

But all of your squirming is gone when Eddie releases a hand onto your ass again, that sting replacing the one you felt before.

“Take it.” He grunts out, through clenched teeth from the sounds of it.

“‘M sorry,” You instantly say, body tensing as you do what Eddie tells you.

But then, as a direct contrast, that same hand he used to slap your ass rubs the burning flesh, soothing the slap.

“That’s okay, baby. Just a dumb little slut ‘f me. Can’t even control your own body. You can’t help it, can you?”

You’re shaking your head, immediately brushing over the words ‘dumb’ and ‘slut’ and only focusing on how Eddie said ‘for me’. Because everything you did was for him.

You’d even laid down on a tattoo bed for over an hour, in pain, just to get a little tattoo that you were sure that Eddie would like even more than you did.

Which, you were obviously right about.

“Everything’s for you, Eddie.” You mumble, words slurred from how cock drunk you were.

Eddie coos from behind you, his thumb now running along your new tattoo.

“Even this little tattoo?” He asks, slowing his pace a little as he becomes distracted by your new ink.

“Especially the tattoo.”

And his pace is sped up again, faster and sloppier than before.

He’s losing accuracy, hitting around that spot more than he’s hitting it. But you couldn’t care less. Because Eddie’s cock is stretching and fucking you so well, and his little grunts and moans and babbles behind you are better than any shitty porno you’ve ever sat down and watch.

You’re dazed, head floaty in a way that’s similar to when you and Eddie pass a blunt back and forth in the back of his van. You don’t even notice that you’re close, not until your body starts to chase that feeling, hips grinding and circling in a coordinating way with Eddie’s thrusts that you didn’t even think you could achieve.

“You close, princess?” Eddie asks, voice a bit shaky due to his movements.

You hum affirmatively, pitch high in a way that would make you cringe if you currently cared.

One of Eddie’s hands pulls you flush against him, his patch of pubic hair brushing against your ass, and his other hand curls around your body to reach between your legs and bring two fingers to your clit.

All it takes is a few circles and then the arch in your back is inverting, thighs shaking as every muscle in your face scrunches up.

You cum hard, your fingers squeezing the edge of the pillow you’d grasped onto so hard that you can feel your fingernails against your palm.

Eddie helps you through your orgasm in a painful way, not daring to slow his fingers around your clit or his thrusts into your tight canal.

You’re practically sobbing at this point, sweet little cries of Eddie’s name falling from your lips.

When your thighs have stopped shaking and you’re giving into Eddie’s touch instead of moving away from it, Eddie’s thrusts become even sloppier.

“Can you cum again for me, sweetheart?” Your mind is telling you that you can’t, but your body is telling you the exact opposite, an aftershock of an orgasm already building in your lower abdomen.

You don’t respond. You don’t have to. Eddie can feel your walls fluttering around his cock like the wings of a butterfly.

His pointer and middle fingers speed up around your clit and you’re bracing yourself at this point, muscles tensing and relaxing repeatedly until you trigger your own orgasm.

It’s not as big as the one before, but you’re not focusing on that. Instead, you’re focusing on the way Eddie is losing himself behind you, both of his hands back at your hips, his own hips slapping into yours in fast thrusts until you feel his cock twitch and then the hot spurts of his cum.

You both moan in harmony, the mutual feeling of Eddie’s release inside of you taking over both of you.

His hips push against yours in short, staccato thrusts, making sure all of his cum is inside of you before he pulls out.

Silently, Eddie watches the way you clench around nothing, thereby forcing his cum out of your hole for it to drizzle down onto your cunt.

“Shit,” He curses, the same two fingers he had on your clit dragging along your cunt, gathering his cum along the digits.

Then, you feel nothing until Eddie’s still warm cum drips onto your lower back, right over your tattoo.

“Eddie,” You start, head turning and upper half lifting off of the bed.

“Shh.” Eddie says, splaying a hand flat between your shoulder blades and pushing you back against the bed with a thud. “Just a little healing ointment for you.”

It’s disgusting, so absolutely disgusting, but you can’t help but enjoy the way Eddie rubs his cum into your skin like moisturizer. You sit still while Eddie works to massage your skin, spreading his cum along your lower back and over your sore ass cheeks.

Then, once he’s finished, he kisses in the middle of your back and steps back completely. But not before placing his hands along your waist and pulling your upper half up from the bed.

You roll over onto your back, bringing your hands down to rest against your stomach again while you stare at the ceiling.

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” You say to Eddie, letting your eyes look at him from over your nose.

Eddie hums, starting to head out of his bedroom door. He stops when he’s almost across the threshold, turning to look over his shoulder to say, “You’re the one who lets me be”. Which, you can’t argue there.

You lay back on Eddie’s bed in silence with his cum sticking along your skin and drizzling out of your cunt.

You’re mostly out of it while Eddie cleans you up, a warm cloth gently running along your pussy, calloused hands maneuvering you enough to clean up your ass and back. He kisses along your skin as he works, making sure to kiss along your wrists when he unlocks the handcuffs, and along your face and neck as he slips one of his shirts over your body.

You come to enough to take a few hits from a blunt that Eddie lights, telling him that you’re fine and that he wasn’t too rough between puffs.

But when he excuses himself to go in the kitchen and make Kraft mac and cheese, you’re already knocked out, eyes closed and body lax on the disgusting, grimy bed sheets.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #dom!eddie #celeste writes st #eddiesworld!

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wandanatsthings · 2 months

Text

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐏𝐭 𝟐

Hey guys I'm so sorry this took so long to get out I hope you all haven’t lost interest lol. I wanted to take my time with this one because I just felt like my writing could be a lot better and I really feel like with this little one-shot or imagine or whatever you call it it has improved and I’d rather you guys wait a while for a more well written piece than to most more frequent and it be shit but anyways I hope you enjoy this I kinda just went all over the place with it so please let me know what you think.

"Not Enough pt 1

Disclaimer: I used “A few weeks” a lot to measure time in this but to give a little bit of an idea it’s been a few months since Piet died (so like 5 months) and like 3 months maybe since reader and Wanda broke up. Also the age gap between Nat and Wanda is like 5 years. I cannot remember if I mentioned that or not. Okie I think that's it.

P.S: I love it when you guys comment so if ya wanna I’d love to read them and If you have any questions about this fic like my thought process while writing please ask them!!

Warnings: Mentions past character death, grief, cheating, mentions of sex but not descriptive, angst, mental illness, break downs, lying. I think that’s please let me know if you see anymore.

Relationships: WandaxNatasha, Wanda/ reader, platonic Bruce x Natasha, Platonic Bruce x Wanda

Summary: Not Enough Pt 2

Word count: 4.1k (My longest fic as of rn)

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

Y/N Pov

It had been a few weeks since you and Wanda broke up. You had moved all of your stuff out of your shared room into a guess not being able to stand being in there after everything that had happened.

You weren't doing well. You couldn't sleep, you couldn't eat, all you could think about was Wanda.

All you wanted was her. It was still hard for you to grasp. You couldn't believe she had cheated. It still just didn’t seem like something she would do. Your sweet Wanda. The one who always made sure you knew how much she loved you no matter what.

The Wanda that never let you both go to bed angry, The one that would always tell you she loved you before going to sleep, Or on the rare occasions when you left the house without one another. So to say you were distraught that she did something like this was an understatement.

Either way, you didn’t want to see her. You had been avoiding her at all costs. You were doing a good job until you saw her in the common area of the compound hanging out with Natasha.

You had mixed feelings about the woman.

Yes, she was the woman that your girlfriend had cheated on you with, but you felt there was something off.

Natasha was a bit older than Wanda, not by much, only 5 years but still, you couldn’t help but think maybe the older woman had taken advantage of Wanda’s vulnerable state.

You didn't put much thought into it though.

you decided that you were no longer interested in hanging out in the common room after spotting the couple. In a hurry, you turned and went back to your room, completely oblivious to the fact that the younger redhead had noticed you. You missed the longing and regretful look that she had in her eyes.

Wanda’s Pov

I watched you as you went back to what I assumed to be your room. Even though I was the one to break up with you. I missed you, being with Natasha was no longer making me as happy as I thought. Especially after I found out she had lied to me about what happened during the mission when Pietro died.

It was a few weeks before You and I had broken up when she approached me in the kitchen after not leaving what was our shared bedroom for days.

FLASHBACK (of Natasha telling what “Happened”)

We had just finished watching my favorite sitcom, which Pietro and I used to watch all the time. You were doing everything you could to make me feel better, and even though I might not have been showing it, you were helping. I had finally felt well enough to sit in the kitchen for a while and have a snack, which was something I had been struggling to do. So Progress was being made.

As I was eating my snack of apples and peanut butter, Natasha approached me. We didn't talk often, but we weren't strangers to each other. I was quite fond of the fellow avenger. "Hey, how are you doing?" she asked as she took a seat next to me. "I'm doing better," I replied, smiling slightly, looking up at her.

"That's good. And how are you and y/n doing?" I found it odd that she was asking about our relationship, but I answered her anyway. "Um, I mean we're okay. We could be doing better, but considering the circumstances, I'd say we're doing pretty well," I said wearily. She looked at me and nodded.

"That's good. Knowing she killed your brother and all." she claimed with what I now know to be a look of “evil” on her face. What she said shocked me.

“Wait what? What are you talking about y/n didn’t kill him? It was an accident, she told me what happened.” I replied getting defensive not liking what she was trying to accuse you of.

“Yeah, but I saw it. Whatever she told you is a lie.”

“Well, what did you see?” I asked, curious to know what she had seen.

She then goes on to tell me how she saw you and Pietro that day in the field fighting bots. For the most part, she told me the same thing you did. Until she added the part where you started fighting each other. “And then they just started fighting each other, I don’t know why. Maybe Y/n got hit in the head or something and started to think that Piet was one of the bots. He tried to knock some sense into her but it just didn’t work and eventually, she pulled out her gun and shot him. I guessed he just wasn’t quick enough to dodge it.” She revealed.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Oh my goodness, Why wouldn't she tell me that? Why would she lie?” I cried looking for some sort of answers.

“I mean I don't know, think about it. Would you want to tell your girlfriend you killed her brother?”

What she said made sense to me, I could understand why you wouldn’t tell me but that wasn’t the relationship we had created. We were always very honest with each other from the beginning no matter what the circumstances were.

Heartbroken with the new knowledge I had just learned I still had one question.

“What were you doing? Why didn’t you stop them or help? Or something?” I desperately questioned.

Natasha shuffled in her seat a little before she answered me.

“I tried but I was busy fighting and helping get civilians to safety myself.”

I nodded at that understanding her reasoning.

END FLASHBACK

After our talk that day we continued getting to know each other more and more and I was drawing myself farther and farther away from you. I did feel bad about it but not bad enough to stop. I wanted you to feel the same pain that I felt when I thought you lied about what happened.

It wasn't until a few days after we broke up that Natasha's true colors started to show.

At the beginning of our relationship, Natasha tried to make me happy in her own way, much like you did. However, while you focused on letting me know that it was okay to feel my emotions and cry, Natasha often brushed me off and tried to distract me with sex. When I declined, saying that I wasn't in the mood, she would get irritable and act off for the rest of the day.

That’s what happened the day I found out that you were telling the truth about what happened during the mission.

FLASHBACK

I was having a bad day, which was as expected every once in a while. I knew some would be harder than others, but I had been improving and not struggling with basic tasks every day, today was an exception though.

All I wanted to do was stay in bed and watch the old sitcoms Piet and I used to but Natasha wasn’t having that.

All she wanted to do was have a beep. She kept begging me all day and getting pissy every time I would say no.

I was getting tired of it so I thought as a distraction now would be a good time to finally get my mission report done for that mission.

I had been given some grace given everything that happened but I wasn’t excluded completely.

I made my way down the hall to the conference room where everyone does their mission reports or papers of the same sort.

When I got there I saw a few pens and other unfinished reports scattered on the rectangular wooden table. I was going to let them be until I saw Natasha's report sitting there among the others. Curious about what she had written, I decided to read it.

Reading other people's reports wasn't forbidden but it was considered as an invasion of privacy, so I knew I shouldn't do it but I just couldn't help myself for some reason.

While I was reading the report, I realized that some information was missing.

None of the things she had told me that day were mentioned in the report. I was sure that it wasn't because she had not finished it yet. She never left the room until it was completed, and I knew that she would never lie in a report. That only meant one thing.

she had lied to me.

I was confused as to why she would lie to me, knowing that it would break us up. I knew the only way to know the truth was to ask her. So, I left the room with her report in my hands, forgetting about my report that needed to be completed.

I headed towards the training room, knowing that's where she would be. Before I approached her, I hid her report behind my back, not wanting her to know that I had read it just yet.

When I walked in, she was bench pressing. "Hey, can we talk?" I asked with urgency. "Can it wait? I'm in the middle of a set," she said, breathing hard. "No, it needs to be now, it's important," I replied, losing my patience.

She re-racked the bar, sat up, and wiped the sweat from her face. "What's up?" I took a deep breath and tried to remain calm, not wanting to cause a scene. "Can you tell me what happened that day on the mission when Piet died again?" She looked at me and rolled her eyes. "I've already told you what happened, why do you want to keep hearing it?" She asked, sounding annoyed. "Because I just want to know the truth," I replied. "Well, I already told you the truth," she answered. I nodded, "That's funny, so what would this be then?" I asked as I pulled the mission report out from behind my back.

The look on her face was priceless," I thought to myself. "Where did you find that?" she asked with a look of guilt on her face. "It doesn't matter where I found it, what matters is why you lied to me!" I cried, hitting her chest with my hands.

She gently grabbed my hands to stop my attack and took a deep breath before explaining something I never thought would be her reasoning. "I lied because I wanted to break the two of you up. You both seemed so happy, even with everything, and I wanted to experience that for myself. I wanted to feel special. And I knew that if I lied, you would believe me because people who are grieving are more likely to believe a lie than people who are not."

I was shocked by what I heard and even more so to see her crying, something I had never seen her do in the year I had been living here. Even though what she did was severely messed up, I could understand why she would do it. We had similar life experiences, and in our lifestyle, what you and I had was rare.

While I could understand, I was still very upset that she would even do something like that and that I would even believe you would lie to me. All that was on my mind at this moment was you. I had to get to you and explain everything, even if you didn’t believe me and never wanted to speak with me again. It was important to me that you knew the truth.

“I have to go,” I sobbed, taking my hands out of her embrace. “I need to explain everything to y/n.” However, that thought was short-lived.

“No, NO! Please don’t leave me,” she begged as she walked me back into a wall. “I need you. I'll do better at anything. Everything, just please don’t leave me.”

I could feel her emotions through me, and they almost became too much. It felt so weird to see her like this. One of the most powerful Avengers, who I looked up to, was begging me on her knees to stay with her. It showed how you could have everything in the world, but if you didn’t have anyone to love or be loved by, you were absolutely nothing.

Feeling for her I decide to comfort her now and talk about everything else later. “Okay, okay I'll stay, I won’t leave I promise.”

END FLASHBACK

"I had been dealing with this for a couple of weeks.

Whenever I confronted her, she would break down and plead with me not to leave her. But after seeing the sorrowful look in your eyes as you walked past the common room, I couldn't bear the thought of you not knowing what happened any longer. So, I decided to talk to you. I got up, leaving Natasha sitting on the couch, and told her that I was going to the bathroom.

As I made my way to your room, I could feel my heart beating loudly in my chest, and my hands were sweaty. When I arrived, I took a deep breath and knocked on your door."

Y/n Pov

I had just returned to my room when I heard a knock at my door. Even though I didn't feel like being bothered, I had to get up and answer it. To my surprise, Wanda was standing there, looking anxious. I was unsure of what she wanted, and even though I didn't particularly want to see her, it was nice to have her there. However, I didn't want to reveal that to her.

“Um, hi. What do you want?" I asked, curious about why she had come to my room. She looked down at her hands and fiddled with her fingers, a nervous habit of hers that I had always found endearing. Smiling at the memory, I waited for her response. "Hi, I was wondering if we could talk?" she finally replied, her voice shaking a little. "Why now? You haven't wanted to talk all this time, what's changed?" I asked, confused by her sudden request. "I know, but I need to speak with you. If after you hear me out, you don't want to speak to me again, I completely understand. I'll leave you alone. But please, I need you to hear me out," she pleaded, taking hold of my hands.

I decided to hear her out and stepped aside to let her in. As she passed by me, I caught a whiff of her flowery perfume and took a deep breath, remembering how her scent used to linger on my pillowcases. I gestured towards the chair in the corner for her to sit while I took the end of my bed. We sat in silence for a while until she finally spoke.

Wanda’s Pov

I was lucky enough to have you let me in. Now, it was time for me to tell you everything. I was so nervous. Despite having rehearsed everything that I wanted to say, I found myself at a loss for words now that I finally had the chance to.

Eventually, I decided to recount everything that had happened from the very beginning. I started with how Natasha approached me in the kitchen, and then to describe how she treated me and how I found out that she had lied, along with the reason behind it. I was afraid to hear what you would say.

"That’s everything that happened. I know that nothing can excuse what I did to you, but I need you to know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I said to you that day when I told you that you weren't enough. It wasn't true, and I regret believing her instead of you. I know there's probably nothing I can say to fix this, but I just need you to know that." I said with tears in my eyes.

You looked at me with an expression that I couldn’t read. What you did next surprised me though.

Y/n Pov

After hearing everything you had to say. I felt as if everything made sense. I was saddened to know that my assumption from earlier about the older woman had been mostly correct but glad to know that the woman whom I fell in love with was exactly who I thought she was. My sweet Wanda.

I got up and walked over to the chair she was sitting in and took her face in my hands. Whipping away some of the tears that had fallen from her green orbits. I looked into her eyes and said, “I forgive you.” By the look on her face, I could tell she wasn’t expecting that she quickly jumped up and wrapped her arms around my neck.

I creased her back as I felt her body shake with sobs. I continued to whisper sweet nothings in her ear to calm her down. After a few moments, she was calm enough to have a conversation and I had some questions to ask her.

“I have some questions to ask you but first I want you to know that I’m glad you told me everything and that I don’t want you to blame yourself for what happened. Anyone would’ve been vulnerable and confused in your situation. You did the best that you could and I’m so proud of you for how far you’ve come since a few months ago and I want you to know what she did to you is not okay.” I didn’t expect a vocal reply out of her, however, I did feel her nuzzle her nose into my neck.

I continued with my little speech. “Now time for the questions,” I said while taking her chin in my hands to get her to look at me. “Did she ever force you to do anything you didn’t want to? You can just nod your head yes or no.” I asked, raising my eyebrow so she would know what I was implying. I see her shake her head at me. “Okay good, that’s good. Do you know what you want to do yet?”

She moved out of my embrace a little to sit up so she could answer. “Yes, I don’t want to be with her anymore but every time I try to have a conversation with her she breaks down like she did in the gym.” She cried. I thought for a few seconds before I answered her. “I have an idea but it’s going to be a lot, are you up for it?” She looked up at me and nodded.

Over the next few days, we talked over and over about what would be the best way to go about it. When we finally got it it was time to execute it.

Wanda’s Pov

Your plan had been brilliant, It was the best thing for everyone involved although not to get hurt but that still didn’t make this any easier. Even after everything that Natasha had done I still cared for the woman but this was the best thing for her. All I had to do was get her to Bruce and he would pretty much do the rest since you had caught him up on everything that had happened. Natasha was sitting in the kitchen drinking a protein shake when I approached her. “Hey, Tasha, I was wondering if you would come down to the lab with me. I need to grab something from Tony. He said it was something about “New and improved armor.” I asked, leaning against the counter trying to not show my nerves. “Yeah sure I'll come with you.” She answered, grabbing her protein drink off the counter to take with her.

When we got to the lab she opened the door for me. I walked in and my eyes met with Bruce. I searched his emotionless eyes with my nervous ones hoping that he could give me some kind of reassurance that this was the right thing to do.

As we walked in farther Bruce walked up to us with a blank look on his face. Natasha was the first one to speak. “Hey, Bruce. Tony said he had some new armor for Wanda?” I grabbed her hand to get her to look at me thinking I should be the one to break the news. “Um, actually Nat we’re not here for that, Bruce wanted to speak with you,” I explained gently, trying to keep her as calm as possible. “Speak to me? Speak to me about what?”

She was a little cautious about what was going on. I looked to Bruce for help, thinking he would know how to answer her better than I would. “I just want to talk, you know, checking in with how you're doing.” He answered her. “Well, I’m doing fine. I need to know what this is about and I need to know now.”

Not wanting to upset her more than I already have, I decided to just tell her. “Listen,” I said, taking her hands in mine. “I want you to know that there’s nothing wrong with accepting help. Even the strongest people fall sometimes.” She looked at me with worry in her voice and asked. “I- I what are you talking about?” “I spoke with him about what you told me in the gym and about everything,” I replied, almost holding my breath. I worried about what the outcome of this would be. “And he thinks that he has some things that can help you.” She looked at me with wide eyes before stating. “What I’m not crazy…I’m not crazy.” I quickly reassured her and said, “No one said you are not like I said it's okay to need help sometimes,” hoping that she would understand.

It seemed like she did as she took a deep breath and surprisingly agreed to hear Bruce out as long as I sat there and listened with her, I agreed to do that seeing as I did just surprise her out of nowhere with this. After we listened to Bruce talk about what would be her treatment plan. She seemed to be more comfortable with the idea.

When we were walking out of the lab she stopped. I turned around to see what was the hold up when she said something that I wasn’t expecting. “I’m sorry for what I did, Really sorry.” She said looking down at her feet. “And I want you to be happy, You deserve to be happy and I know that you aren’t that with me but you were with y/n and if you need me to explain everything to her I will but you deserve to be happy and be with someone who is just as amazing as you are.” She continued this time looking me in the eyes. I was shocked as to what I was hearing but not wanting to leave her hanging I replied. “Thank you for apologizing and I accept your apology. I do not need you to talk to Y/n but I do appreciate the gesture.” She nodded at me. “So I guess this is it?” You looked at her and gave a sad smile. “Yes it is, but I will be here if you need to talk and I want to be updated on how your treatment is going.” She smiled back at you and replied “I will keep you updated. Bye, Wanda.” “Goodbye,” I said as I walked away from her feeling sad but excited to go and see you.

When I finally found you, you were in your room reading some book that I couldn't see the name of. I ran into the room and jumped on your bed. You giggled and put the book down, then said, “I'm guessing it went well?” I nodded my head, smiling. “It went a lot better than I was expecting. Your plan worked,” I said. You looked at me, smiling, “I told you it would,” you said while scooting over to make room for me. As I was getting comfortable, I felt you staring at me. I looked up at you and asked, “What?” You blushed and replied, “Nothing, you're just really beautiful.” I surprised myself and started leaning up to kiss you. I went slow, not the perfect knowing if you were ready yet, but letting you know that I was. I soon knew that you were when I felt your lips on mine. I smiled softly as I broke away from the kiss. I then snuggled up in your arms, not certain of what we were in the moment, but sure of one thing: you are enough for me.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

Feedback absolutely loved!!!

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aziraphales-library · 2 months

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Heya ! I'm looking for some fics that are set post season 2. Not fixits exactly, not that I would mind fixits. But I'm looking for long canon compliant fics. Also, is there a tag for such fics ?

We have #good omens s2 and #canon compliant tags. On ao3 you'll want to use the tags "Post-Season/Series 02" and "Canon Compliant", which is what I did to find you these...

scherzo in f-sharp minor, for orchestra by astrhae (M)

It was a truth universally acknowledged that an angel in possession of no memory must be in want of a wife. No, that was the wrong book. The wrong line. Aziraphale frowned. “What,” the gentleman before him asked, “and I mean what, are you doing here?” ----------------- Or, two years after things fall apart, Aziraphale shows up at Crowley's doorstep without his memories. The easy part is getting it back, the hard part is getting them back together.

Until the Bitter End by sentientsky (T)

After learning the truth about Heaven's plans and fruitlessly trying to fix a corrupt system (and maybe also having his memory messed with a little bit in the process), Aziraphale slips back to Earth in search of Crowley.

i will make it better, if only for us by davethefish (T)

With Aziraphale in Heaven, everything that Crowley loved has left the earth. He doesn't know what to do, so he starts small. Maybe someday he'll love the earth as much as he loved Aziraphale. It's time for him to remember why he chose to stay in the first place.

Black Holes and Revelations by ArtisticRising (E)

Crowley takes a leap of faith… into the heart of a black hole. It’s the last card Crowley has to play. He can’t do this without Aziraphale… and he’s betting that Aziraphale can’t do this without him. Act I (Black Holes) ends around Chapter 6 (10 if you want the smut babes). You could leave the story off there. Up til chapter 6 you have a whole story that’s pretty much G rated. From there my thirst comes out like a sexy little demon in tight jeans and a vaguely downwards saunter. Act II (Revelations) is an attempt at season 3. Treat it as a separate work that builds off Act I. Lots of plot twists ahead/theories/speculations that I won’t spoil for you :)

The Ineffability of Gray by kitfornow (NR)

Fifteen years have passed since Aziraphale returned to Heaven, and still sometimes Crowley feels shell shocked and embarrassed and grief-stricken. And mostly, he still feels numb. Fifteen years isn’t really so long, in the grand scheme of things, and yet these have somehow been the longest years of his existence. He can almost feel time crawling by, laughing at him. But slowly, so slowly, Crowley began to try again. To try harder. To find a piece of himself that Aziraphale had not touched. To find a piece of himself that does not need changing. On his good days, he can open up. His friends come over to the flat, once in a while, and Maggie brings new records and Muriel brings burnt cookies that no-one complains about because they're so proud of them. They'll exchange stories and simply enjoy each other's company for a few hours. And sometimes, he feels almost alright. Until Crowley turns around and Aziraphale is there, standing in front of him, trying to stop the world from ending all over again.

hurry back, please bring it back home to me by Percyjacksonfan3 (T)

“Why should I?” The demon interrupts cuttingly. “You’ve made it perfectly clear where your priorities lie and anything I say won’t make a bit of difference.” “That’s not true at all.” Aziraphale replies after a long hurt moment. “And you know it. Besides, you’re being stubborn. You’ll help me eventually.” Rage flashes over Crowley’s face. “You think so, do you?” Aziraphale juts his chin up stubbornly, ignoring the unpleasant feelings Crowley’s expression stirs in him. “Yes.” Aziraphale needs Crowley's help in saving humanity from the Second Coming and despite what happened between them he's determined to get it. After all, it's not only that he needs Crowley, but his plan also includes their car. As for the other matters between the two of them... well there's no reason those can't be sorted out along the way as well, is there? Or, a possible take on Series 3 that includes the Bentley, a resurrected Jesus Christ set on bringing about the End of Days, and an angel and a demon who are stupidly in love with each other but are both suffering from a lack of experience on how to actually deal with said emotions. Emphasis on the stupidly.

- Mod D

#good omens #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #canon compliant #long fic #mod d

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jinkicake · 1 year

Text

~ ♡ Good Enough ♡ ~

(( Day #4 )) Lucifer x Reader

He hates you. He hates you. You’re sure that he must hate you.

A/N: This is my attempt at an actual fic like a long ass story... ummm,,,, I wrote this a while ago because I just love love love luci and mean m3n so I decided to combine the two!!!! xxx this isn’t the longest thing i’ve ever written but it’s the longest thing i’ve written in a while... hopefully it is alright~~

WC - 5,021

mean, stubborn Lucifer (pretty much luci before like lesson 20?? lmaooo)

~~~

For as long as you’ve lived in the Devildom, Lucifer has been hard on you.

You’re not sure why the demon pushes you to your limits but, try as you might, you just can’t make Lucifer come to like you. No matter how early you wake up to be on time for breakfast or how intensely you study for your classes, the demon only says that you can ‘do better’. He always finds a flaw in every single piece of yourself that you present to him and that fact only makes you want to try harder with him.

No matter how difficult it may be, you still want to get along with him (even if he has other plans).

“(Y/N), you’re on cleaning duty tonight.”

Lucifer’s sudden announcement in the middle of dinner nearly makes you drop your utensils in shock. He has to be kidding with this. Last night was your turn to clean the kitchen and you didn’t leave a single spec of dust on any appliance. Not to mention, Mammon is the one who cooked tonight and you really do not want to be in charge of cleaning that up.

“(Y/N) cleaned last night, Lucifer,” Asmo reminds his older brother before he sends a gentle smile your way. He tips his shoulder towards you thoughtfully but then instantly stiffens under his brother’s glare.

“And?” The avatar of pride crosses his arms over his chest and waits for anyone else to refuse him. No one ever does. Asmo sends an apologetic wince your way before turning back to his food. When none of the other demons stick up for you, you know that you have to do something about it yourself.

“Why do I have to clean up?” At the sound of your soft voice, Lucifer’s eyes slightly widen. This goes against every moral you have that relates to coexisting with Lucifer, the main rule is to never question his authority. As of lately, you’ve grown tired of the way he picks on you. It’s nothing extreme compared to how he punishes his brothers but, you don’t understand why he tugs on your hair and hands you time-consuming tasks.

All of the other demons slowly look toward you before glancing at Lucifer. The eldest demon places his utensils down gently against his plate as his red eyes narrow your way.

You don’t have the strength to look him in the eyes so you keep your gaze locked on your half-empty glass.

“Are you questioning me, human?” His now emotionless expression doesn’t falter once, not even as you fist your hands in the napkin settled on your lap. Everyone in the room knows exactly what you did and the tension becomes so thick that you wish the ground would just swallow you whole.

Right now, you know that you have a choice to make. You can either fight with Lucifer or comply with him. It would be so much easier on everyone if you complied but, it wouldn’t be easier on yourself.

“I just don’t understand why I have to do it when you already had me organize the library today.” You try to keep your composure, try to keep your heartbeat leveled as you finally muster up the courage to look at Lucifer.

His jaw clicks with frustration when you look into his eyes. He can see the uncertainty and fear swimming in your iris and the demon hates how it looks on you.

“You’re not going to be cleaning it alone, I am also on cleaning duty tonight.” Lucifer’s answer doesn’t satisfy you at all but, you take the small inch as a win. For once instead of reprimanding you, Lucifer gave you something to take.

You truly don’t understand him. You fear that you never will.

The kitchen is filled with just as much tension as the dining room and you think that you’ll never have the luxury of breathing freely again. Lucifer remains quiet as he hands you clean dishes, ones that he expects you to dry to perfection and then place neatly on the drying wrack.

Every time that you misplace a single dish, he is quick to correct you.

“Place it beside the other bowl,”

“Organize the utensils by category.”

At one point, he reaches over and holds your hand to guide exactly where he wants each dish to go. His entire body is pressed up against your own as he leans over to hurry the task along. You hate how your heart skips a beat at the proximity, how you happily soak in the difficult presence of Lucifer.

When you finally put the last spoon in its drying space, you wipe your hands on one of the kitchen towels. The realization that you can leave puts a smile on your face and you reach over to grab your phone so that you can go back to your room and hide.

It seems that Lucifer has other plans as he boxes you in against the counter with both hands on either side of your body. He bends his tall frame over slightly, dipping his head so that he can look at you closer.

“Do you think we are done here?” It’s obvious to you that this is a trick question. Regardless if you say yes or no, the demon is going to give you another task. You battle his question with one of your own.

“We have classes tomorrow, shouldn’t we call it a night?” You try to keep yourself as polite as possible and even go as far as to give the demon a wobbly smile. Lucifer’s frown doesn’t falter in the slightest as he pushes himself off the counter to stand to his full height. He runs his fingers through his hair, and for a split second, you have slight hope that he is going to let you leave.

But, then he glances down at you.

“We’re mopping the floors right now.”

In addition to mopping the floors, the two of you also deep-cleaned the fridge and washed all the kitchen towels. Needless to say that by midnight when you both finish, you are exhausted.

“I expect to see you at six am before breakfast to go over those reports from this afternoon.” Lucifer’s clipped tone as he leaves the kitchen almost makes you cry. You can feel frustration aching in your chest but when the demon turns around to get your confirmation, all you can do is blink the tears away and nod.

No matter how many times you go over it in your head, no matter how many hours you spend thinking about it, you just can’t understand what you did to make Lucifer dislike you. His endless tasks feel like a punishment no matter how many times he tells you that they are not.

You also can’t figure out why you go along with the demon’s gentle torment of you. You can’t figure out why you want him to like you so badly, why you want to make him happy.

For the same reasons that you can’t figure out Lucifer’s intentions, you can’t figure out the same feelings in your own heart.

Ignorance is bliss and you plan to continue keeping up with the demon until you physically can’t anymore.

There is something inside your chest that is pushing you, it’s a feeling that motivates you to shoulder Lucifer’s harsh demands. What a coincidence it is that you can’t figure out that emotion either, love.

You think it’s the exact reason why you find yourself outside of Lucifer’s office the next morning. Perhaps it’s because you just hate to let him down.

“Come in,” Lucifer murmurs as you softly open his door. His eyes run over your figure as you enter and gently close his door behind you, the dark circles under your eyes physically pain him. He’ll give you a break after this but, for right now, he just needs more time with you. The demon just can’t get you off his mind and whenever you’re near, unfortunately, he feels a little more at ease. Lucifer knows you can put up with it for a little while longer. “sit.”

You sit wordlessly in the chair on the opposite side of his desk, mirroring Lucifer’s position. After that, you wait. Lucifer doesn’t hand you any documents right away, he continues to read over and hastily marks any section that needs it. All you do is sit there.

The soft lull of his record player, a gentle piano melody escaping through the speakers, nearly makes you fall back asleep. Your eyes flutter shut under your exhaustion and despite the slight warmth from the fireplace, Lucifer’s office is very cold, the brisk temperature is the only thing that keeps you from escaping into a slumber.

“(Y/N),” Lucifer calls out to you and causes your body to lurch as you sit up in a hurry. You subtly try to blink the sleep out of your eyes as you face him. The kind smile you give him does not phase the demon in the slightest. Lucifer merely stares at you for a long pause before going back to the document in his hand.

The entire situation just makes you so incredibly confused, why would Lucifer have you come in and not even give you any work? You could have been sleeping.

“Umm, I think I should-” The words of your planned escape fall off your tongue when Lucifer glances up at the sound of your voice. There’s something about the expected stare he gives you underneath his thin glasses and the shade of his hair, the dark strands tinted with gray, that makes you squirm in your seat. “never mind.”

Lucifer continues to stare at you as he carefully watches your attempt to save a pitiful conversation. He notices how you glance over his walls, the clock, and then back down at your lap. The demon focuses on your fingertips and how you tightly clasp your hands together for warmth.

He seems to have forgotten in his time away from the human world just how sensitive humans are.

The avatar of pride rises from his seat, standing tall before you as he extends his limbs to take off his jacket. He slowly circles the desk and comes to stand right behind you. His gentle hands softly push your upper body forward in your seat so that he can wrap the thick jacket around your shoulders. Once he’s sure that your arms have gone through the holes, Lucifer reaches over to button each clip extremely slowly. His long fingers capture your attention and you greedily watch with anticipation as he gets closer and closer to your chest.

“Don’t fall asleep again.” He murmurs against your ear, his lips so close that you can feel them ghosting over your skin. You can only pray and hope that the demon can’t hear the loud thumping of your heart. “Understand?” Lucifer gives you a hard look as he finishes his work with the jacket and walks to stand back in front of the desk.

At your obedient nod, his lips twitch upward.

“Good.”

For the rest of the session until breakfast, you sit in the silence of the light piano melody and the sound of his pen against paper. Lucifer doesn’t give you a single file to review.

“Rest well tonight and tomorrow, I won’t be needing your assistance.” This new revelation before breakfast nearly makes you gasp, Lucifer rarely ever gives you a break. At the sight of your lips twitching as you fight back a smile, Lucifer scowls. “Don’t look so pleased, human. I will see you again the day after tomorrow.”

“Okay,” You quietly murmur before bringing your hands up to your cheeks. No matter what you do, you can’t stop relief from filling your face. It angers the other demon to no end, do you not care that he will be working all alone without you? Do you not care to extend the same politeness and ask if he still wants help?

He’s aware of his incredible selfishness toward you and your time but, ignores it nonetheless.

Through his anger, Lucifer has to remind himself that you are both a student and a human. The fact that you put up with him so easily is a show of genuine kindness.

The demon hates it to no end. He hates how you’re changing him despite how hard he tries to fight it. Lucifer is sure that he hates you.

You become sure of it too the very next evening.

‘Come here now.’

The text from Lucifer comes without warning and you stiffen upon sight of it. Mammon, who looks over your shoulder, even screeches at it. Stupidly, you thought Lucifer would not bother you for the night. You thought you had a free night for once but, it seems the demon can’t even give you that.

“Is he mad about something?” You ask his brother because you really don’t get it, why would Lucifer tell you to relax and then demand that you go to see him? That seems like the opposite of relaxing.

Levi shrugs his shoulders while Beel continues to down his popcorn.

“Dunno, good luck! We can rewind the movie when you come back!” Levi’s enthusiasm is not new, he can barely rip his eyes away from the television. Mammon gives your wrist a gentle squeeze of support before you make your way out of the demon’s room.

Finding Lucifer is incredibly easy since his office is somewhere you can walk to in the dark with your hands tied behind your back. You contemplate waiting before heading into his room, to give yourself time to mentally prepare yourself for his torture but, the quicker you enter, the quicker you get to leave. With that in mind, you push his doors open and step in without a second thought.

His office is quiet as a soft melody plays in the background, if anything, the air seems relaxing. Well, it seemed that way until you entered.

“Do you not understand the concept of knocking?” Lucifer asks without looking up from his pile of documents. His glasses rest on the bridge of his nose as he roughly notes something against the paper in his hands. The rough action causes you to tightly swallow the rest of your nerves. “I believe it is a common human world practice, is it not?”

At your silence, Lucifer looks up at you with an expecting glare. The resentment in his eyes is something akin to frostbite and you’re sure you’re going to freeze over.

“It is,” You answer and then take a few steps forward to stand directly in front of his desk. Lucifer hums before glancing back to his paper and like this, you can finally get a good look at him. Seeing the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes and the lighter strands of gray against the dark backdrop of his thick hair almost causes you to squirm upon sight. He’s a handsome demon and even you can acknowledge and appreciate that. Lucifer is ethereal even when he is glaring at you and threatening you with your life, you’re sure of it.

“Then why is it that you fail to knock each time you enter my office?” Gone is Lucifer’s patience, it seems that you’ve been given the short end of the stick since you’re now the target of his bitter frustrations.

For a brief moment, you mull over your words before choosing to tell him the honest truth.

“I get nervous and forget,” Slightly honest, it’s true that you get nervous but, you fail to knock because you’re always trying to get in and out of his office as quickly as possible. Lucifer’s pen stills in his hand and his jaw clenches together tightly.

“I give you no reason to be nervous.” He looks at you with a narrowed gaze as if he is trying to understand you, as if you will spill all your secrets under his glare. Much to his dismay, you remain silent and are unable to reply.

Conversing with Lucifer is always a tricky dance where you try not to step on his feet.

It’s best to get straight to the point.

“Um, is there a reason you wanted to see me?” You stare down at his desk instead of his face as you run your fingers along the wooden trim. It’s distracting, a good thing to you, and a bad thing to him.

“I can hear you all talking through the walls.” Bitter, Lucifer sounds undeniably bitter. “It’s too loud, I thought I told you to rest.” If this is his attempt at showing his concern for you, you find it to be weak.

“I am relaxing, we are watching a movie.” Lucifer’s frown only grows larger at your words and you anxiously start to toy with your fingers. Your thumb runs over your knuckle and then the tip of your finger before pressing down on the digit to pop it.

“A movie?” His voice sounds dangerous as if he is insinuating that you are doing something you’re not supposed to be doing. “Who is we?” The rapid beating of your heart must not be good for your health and you try to take a moment just to breathe.

“Mammon, Levi, and Beel,” You answer truthfully as your eyes dart to a random corner in the room. There is no way you can face the disappointment in Lucifer’s eyes or attempt to understand him. No matter how much you think about it, you can’t understand why he is acting so difficult.

“Sounds like fun.” He practically spits this out through clenched teeth and you finally look over him. Timidly, your eyes run over his hard face. The feeling in your gut is pity.

“Well, would you like to join us?” At your question, Lucifer looks at you as if you insulted his very being. His eyes widen dramatically and he places his pen down against the hardwood of his desk. However, the shock quickly evaporates from his face and is replaced with anger.

“No.” His decline is firm, set in stone. “Unlike you and your head full of air, I try not to spend my free time doing such worthless things.”

Your eyes narrow toward him and your nose scrunches up in disgust at his dramatics. If Lucifer was trying to offend you, he did so incredibly well. As you try to put a lid on your temper you think of your second rule that comes with surviving Lucifer, never let your anger get the better of you.

Despite how hard you try to remind yourself to do this, the words work to no avail. Who gave Lucifer the right to judge you so hard? To pick you apart and pluck at any piece of you that he doesn’t find satisfactory?

“I wouldn’t want you there anyway.” The petty reply leaves your lips before you can catch it and the glare to match your words is not something you even try to hide. With just the two of you in the room, you have no worries about how this explosive decision would affect any of the other demons. Lucifer’s eyes narrow at the fight instilled in you. He slowly places his hands in his lap while keeping his deadpan stare on your face.

“Excuse me?” He settles for this and tries to give you an opportunity to take it back. Horns appear on top of his head as voluminous wings sprout from his back

“You heard me.” If Lucifer is shocked by your outburst, he does an exceptionally well job at hiding it. “Do you really dislike me so much that you have to nag me about everything?” You can’t help how your voice grows with emotion, how you firmly place your palms on his desk and slightly lean over the wood. “I do everything that you ask for and I do it perfectly. Would it kill you to be the least bit appreciative?”

Your fingers twitch against the hardwood as Lucifer continues to stare at you. Timidness is flowing through your body once again and you try everything in your power to push it away. No good will come to you right now if you back down. It’s not like you can pretend this never happened, no, you have to push through.

“Do I dislike you?” Lucifer repeats as he finally pushes himself out of his chair, standing to his full height to tower over you. He crosses his arms over his chest, letting his muscle bulge under his jacket and you have half a mind to think that he does this to hold back from lunging at you. “I loathe you, human.”

Fear instills in your core and disappointment takes root at the painful feeling of it all.

“What? Why?” You can’t help but ask him of this, ask him why he’s stepping all over your heart so easily.

“No matter how much effort you put into this place, the Devildom will remain the same.” In contrast to your own wide eyes filled with glossy tears, Lucifer’s are narrowed and tinted with irritation. The bitter feeling rubs him entirely the wrong way.

“You hate me because you think I’m trying to change this place?” No matter how much work you did for Lucifer, no matter how closely you followed his directions to a ’t’, it didn’t matter. That much is true for you now. “All I ever did was what you asked of me.”

“I did not ask you to change my brothers and I most certainly did not ask you to change me.” This is too much for you to keep up with, your head is spinning under Lucifer’s true feelings. “I see the way you look at me.”

You instantly freeze and dart your eyes to the floor, he can’t be insinuating this. Right now, you’ve never wanted to run away and hide as badly before in your life. You can’t have Lucifer saying this out loud, not when you haven’t even said it to yourself yet.

“Do you think that you are subtle, human? All the lingering touches and meaningful stares, I know exactly how you feel about me.” Lucifer’s harsh words stab at your heart, picking and pulling you apart. Unlike you, the demon doesn’t appear affected in the least. Lucifer still stands tall with his arms crossed over his chest and glare as dangerous as ever. “You will not change me.”

“Haven’t I already changed you?” You wish you would bite your own tongue and stop talking but, you can’t. The harder Lucifer pushes you, the harder you push back. At this point, you’re not even aware of what you’re saying anymore. You just want to affect Lucifer as terribly as he’s affecting you. “I-I think you’re wrong about how you feel about me.”

“Oh? Tell me, how do I feel about you?” The demon seems to be mildly entertained, his eyes widening in some twisted amusement as you tremble in front of him.

“I think what you really hate is how much you need me.” Your hands instantly slap over your mouth after the words finally fall out. Need is a strong word. Regardless of how Lucifer claims to feel about you, you know the demon wants you near him all the time. Why else would he keep you attached to his hip?

It seems that the tension of the entire room, which is filled to the brim, explodes. Before, it was like a suffocatingly thick smog covering the two of you. Now the room is draped in heavy silence, one so loud that all you can hear are the ticks coming from the grandfather clock beside the door.

You subtly glance towards it, the door, and start planning how exactly you can escape from this situation.

“Get out.” Lucifer’s orders send you quickly excusing yourself without a second thought. Not once, do you look at him or think to do so. You don’t see the stunned look on his face or the pieces of his heart all coming together. No, you run back to your room and hide with your tail between your legs.

Under the covers, you pray that no harm will come to you.

Weeks have passed since that incident with Lucifer and all has seemingly run smoothly. The demon remains cordial with you and does not make a scene in front of his brothers. He simply hands you documents to review and makes you leave them outside of his office when you are done. The complete 180 shift of his treatment toward you almost makes you feel embarrassed about your previous words.

How could you be so bold and claim that the demon needs you? It’s been weeks, much to your aching heart, and Lucifer has not asked for you once.

‘I know exactly how you feel about me.’ His lingering words sometimes ring in your mind, forcing you into a state of humiliation. It’s safe to say that you somewhat understand your feelings for Lucifer better now, you can admit that how you feel about him is different than how you feel about anyone else that you know. Your affection for him makes the distance between the two of you more difficult to cope with.

All you want to do is see Lucifer.

“(Y/N), Lucifer wants to see you in his room.” Asmo knocks on your door in passing, delivering the words that seal your fate before he happily heads to his own room.

You regret your earlier dramatics and begs for his attention because as you walk to his room, you can’t think of anything scarier than facing him. The demon must have a reasonable explanation to call you out and you hold onto the hope that it will all pass over smoothly.

Once in front of his door, you actually remember to knock. The sensation of the hardwood against your knuckles momentarily distracts you from the anxiety in your heart and you’re thankful for it.

“Come in,” Lucifer’s voice sounds sharper than normal as if he is on edge. You mentally say a prayer to anyone who will listen before entering his room and closing the door firmly behind you.

The demon can’t hide the shock on his face when he finally sees you. His eyes slightly widen and his hand moves to rest over his chest. The moment of weakness doesn’t last for long before his face falls into a rather pleasant expression.

“I wasn’t expecting you to knock,” He teases and you can’t help but awkwardly rock on your heels. You’re not sure what to say to Lucifer or how to face him. The demon can tell this right off of your face. “calm down, human.”

“I’m not going to eat you,” His voice draws you in, and forces your feet to move as you walk over to the couch by his piano. “sit.” You sit on the edge of the cushion, incredibly close beside him, and mentally prepare for the scolding you’re sure you’re going to receive. “I am only going to say this once,”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping his anger won’t be too blunt.

“Look at me.” There’s a soft touch against the back of your hand and you timidly open your eyes to find Lucifer’s fingers brushing against your own. You obediently look up at him. “You were right,” He grabs your hand with his own.

Lucifer is admitting to one of his faults, your lips part in shock and eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Right about what?”

Lucifer looks you over as his eyes slightly soften and a gentle smile takes place on his face.

“I do need you.” The confession nearly makes your heart stall in your chest and the gentle glide of his thumb against your palm does little to calm you down.

“You do?” You repeat, testing the words on your tongue. Lucifer bends his head forward slightly, letting his hair brush against your forehead.

“I do.” His voice sounds much closer now and you freeze at the proximity of his body. “I always have, please forgive me for always being so harsh with you.” One of his hands crosses your body to hold onto your hip, wrapping his arm around your waist. “It seems I was the one who was unaware of my feelings.”

“Your feelings?” Finally, you look up through your lashes to find Lucifer staring intently at you. He nearly sighs at the contact.

“Must I spell it out for you?” He looks away for the slightest moment before bringing his eyes back to you. “I adore you, (Y/N). I was harsh because of it. I am terribly sorry.”

You’re having a hard time keeping up with the suddenness of it all. It seems that you couldn’t have been more wrong about this meeting. While you were preparing for a scolding, he was preparing for a confession.

“Is that so?” You murmur and attempt to hide your face from his stare. Lucifer gently cups your cheek and your skin burns underneath his gloved fingertips. The flustered state of your appearance nearly makes the man coo.

“It is.” He confirms and dips his head to rest his forehead against your own. Lucifer doesn’t expect anything in return from you, just getting to express his desires to you is more than enough. “I apologize that I took so long to come to terms with it.”

Deep down, the two of you always knew that you shared a mutual adoration for one another.

With a slight tilt of your head, you brush your lips against his cheek.

“(Y/N),” Lucifer warns as his eyes flutter shut. If you continue to be so soft with him, to love on him so kindly, the demon can’t be responsible for how he responds. “do you think I would be satisfied with such a sweet kiss?”

His hands tighten against your jaw before pulling your chin downwards, allowing his lips to brush against your own.

“Please allow me to shower you with my love for tonight.”

. . .

2023/02/07 ♡

#obey me Lucifer x reader #Lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #obey me lucifer #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #obey me angst #obey me fluff #hurt comfort #maybe?#my own pathetic attempt at hurt comfort lol #I rawdogged this editing teehee

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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year

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Hi hello! Can I request a Minho x Reader oneshot where the reader is working for WICKED but is like an undercover agent and actually tries to give out info for the Right Arm or whatever and she helps Minho when he gets taken back to the facility(like trying to find ways to free him or at least bring him food or smth when he's not being... yk tortured to death and all- it can be whatever) and she helps in his escape and they all go tho the safe haven where they live happily forever after- ok I'll stop now, thank you. Also I'm in love with your Minho oneshots!

Omg yesss this is such a good request and I can actually do so much with this.

I got really into this one so I'm sorry for the variation in my writing quality lmao. This might be my longest piece yet, so sorry it took so long to get out.

Due to the pronouns used in this text I am assuming it is Fem!Reader. I am also assuming this is based on the films because those events do not take place in the books.

WARMTH IN COLD PLACES PT. 1

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2

SUMMARY: See above. Minho x Fem!Reader. Movie based fic. Instead of Jorge knowing about the Last City and where Minho will be, you provide that information.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, violence, guns. WICKED being WCKD because movie. I'm assuming you know the rules of the card game Black Jack. This is also time inaccurate because TDC takes place over a couple of days but here you're getting weeks worth of events. VERY long.

You joined the Right Arm as a child, maybe ten or eleven- you can't really remember. You'd lost your parents to the Flare on separate occasions, escaping to a refuge camp after your father started showing symptoms and forced you to flee without him.

You can't even remember losing your mother. You were too young.

After moving from camp to camp, each one being safe until some Crank snuck in, or someone joined unknowingly suffering from the disease.

After the forth move, you met Vince. You tried stealing some extra bread for a girl who was sick (she had pneumonia, not the Flare). You got caught but put up a hell of a fight. Vince introduced himself, and you kind of became his adoptive daughter.

So, when he gave you an alias and a fake ID, sending you on a private mission to interfere and spy on WCKD, you were shocked to say the least.

But it made sense. Vince had been protective and secretive about you, making sure that he kept you away from WCKD's watchful eye. Sure, you're pretty well-known; but only by name. There's several rebellious attempts attached to your name, mainly spread around groups of activists.

But not your face. You were the perfect candidate for an undercover gig.

It took months to go through WCKD'S training, pretending to be older than you were with a name that wasn't yours, but it worked.

And then, even your fake name and life didn't matter- you simply became Guard 175.

It's been two years since you took the job.

Your time in the Last City was unlike any other- mainly stealing information and providing intel.

Until strict message from Vince on your smart watch tells you to keep an eye out for an Asian boy called Minho.

You knew of Minho- of course, you did. Vince and his new allies had been looking for him for the past six months. After the events in which Teresa betrayed you all, you were in the Last City. The Guard job you had required you to stay at WCKD's Headquarters at all times, since you were guarding the building. Even in events where WCKD needed more bodies.

All you could do was try and warn Vince, but by the time you found out what was happening yourself and managed to find a private place to send the message, it was too late.

So, now everyone's focus is on trying to find this random boy you've literally never met for ex-WCKD workers/prisoners. It's been a weird six months.

Much to your dismay, the only information you could provide were the routes the trains would be taking and that Minho might be on them.

Which got messed up, but not thanks to you. You told them the location, but which carriage Minho was on would be random based on where the Guards forced him to sit.

You were still unable to leave your post.

Vince had suspicions that they were bringing Minho to the main WCKD base, especially after you told them the documents stating the destination. It was really the only other option since they didn't save him. So, you're now under strict orders to keep an eye out for him.

You know what he looks like. You have an earpiece and a high-tech smart watch, both of which you keep hiden under your Guard's uniform. These were used to tell you what you had to look for. So, when you broke into WCKD's system, searching for Subject A7- information that was provided by some keen-eared boy called Newt -you knew who you were looking for.

"Miss Agnes," you jog, catching up to Teresa as she struts down the scary clean white walls of WCKD HQ. You hate it here. It's worlds away from the chaotic but cosy environment you spent your life in- from the small town that got plagued by the Flare to the Right Arm bases you helped run. It's too bright; too clean.

Part of your mission is to befriend Teresa. She's Ava Paige's personal lapdog, and if she likes you, you've got an in- and someone with power that will defend you. She seems to be fond of you, probably because if a lowlife peasant can like her, then maybe she isn't so bad.

You, obviously, despise her.

Your job wouldn't have become so complicated if it weren't for her, and you'd probably have a lot of people safe and sound in the Safe Haven. Your job was long, but it was originally to get as much information as physically possible and then flee, providing the knowledge to free more people and completely disrupt WCKD's plans. Now it's "tell Vince if you find this random kid."

"Ah, 175," she doesn't even know your fake name, "I was wondering where you'd got to."

"Yeah, well, you know how it is- busy guarding and all that." She scoffs. She's always found you funny; that might be why she likes you.

"Yes, well, as much as I'd love to chat, I've got to get to the labs." You're glad the mesh masks of your uniform shields your face because that means you can hide your panic.

"Sorry, uh, before you go- I heard one of the cargo trains was intercepted," her face visibly hardens, "I was wondering if that had anything to do with your old friends; the ones you told me about?"

She clears her throat, "I'm afraid so. I just-" she sighs, "Thomas thinks he's doing the right thing. He thinks that this is what's best for him- but I'm trying to do what's best for humanity. It hurts that they don't understand that. But it's fine, because we prevented the Right Arm from getting our most reliable cargo."

"Oh?"

"I can't tell you much, I'm not allowed," she throws a sad smile your way. "I wish I could, though. You've been a great friend. So, let's just say one of the most impressive and consistent subjects is still in our possession."

She walks away, leaving you to huff and puff in the corridor. It made you sick how they spoke about people like they're objects. It's hard to believe the boys you're helping used to hold her so highly.

You return to your room. It's basically a box room that's big enough for a bed, but it's the only place that offers you any privacy. You yank your mask off, tossing it to the bed and pressing your fingers to your earpiece.

"Yo, Vince, you there?"

There's silence, followed by a sharp static. "(Y/N)? Did Teresa tell you anything?" You flop onto your bed, letting yourself move your hand away from your ear now the connection is stable.

"Not really, but she did mention about precious cargo being still intact- and an important test subject. The records I told you about before our raid said the train was coming here- we can only assume that this subject-"

"-Has to be Minho," Vince sounds stressed, groaning slightly.

"V? Everything alright over there?"

"Not really," he sighs, followed by the sound of a squeaking chair, "WCKD's jets have been snooping around base and Thomas, Newt and Frypan have gone AWOL- Brenda and Jorge left earlier to go and find them. But I doubt they're going to bring them back."

Honestly, you'd never spoken to any of these people, but you knew the names well enough to tell who they are.

"What are they going to do then?"

"What do you think?" You sit up on your elbows, processing what he's implying. "You might be having some company real soon."

"Does that mean I'll be able to leave?" Vince snorts a laugh. You've asked him that every single call since you started this gig.

"It might, actually," though, this is the first time you haven't gotten a no. "Keep an eye out for Minho. He should be arriving there within the next twelve hours. If not, he's somewhere else and you're going to have to do more snooping whilst I try to contact Thomas."

"Okay. Speak soon." The connection dies with a hiss.

This was going to be shit.

Not even two hours later, you hear the call off of your walky-talky that Guards are needed at the cargo entrance to transport Subjects. You flew at the opportunity, rushing into the crowds of your colleagues.

Joining the other members at the doors to the carpark, you watch as buses full of innocent people in handcuffs pull up- all in the depressing WCKD garb they're forced to wear. Some faces are familiar from browsing files, some new- all looked terrified.

You stay away from the front, dipping between masked personnel and observing from a distance. You knew exactly what you were looking for- Asian, dark-hair, well built, about eighteen-ish, good-looking, and probably angry. That was offered by some dude called Frypan. You doubt that's his real name, but you really hope it is.

You watch, processing faces and people as fast as you can as Guards grab the Subjects, holding one of their arms, which are handcuffed together in front of them, and leading them into the building. This could be the perfect opportunity to do something, but by the time you spot Minho, someone has beat you to it.

It's definitely him. His image and description match him perfectly, even if his hair is a little bit flatter. You silently curse as you try to make your way over to him, only for another Guard to force him to walk forward.

Okay, new plan- grab someone close and stay nearby.

You don't get to use that plan either when Minho suddenly lashes out. He slams his foot onto the Guard's, making the masked man yelp and let go. Minho takes the opportunity to spin around, kicking the guy in the chest and sending him flying.

Another Guard comes to help, but Minho has got a hold of a pair of keys from the previous guy, just about unlocking one of his wrists before dodging.

Shit.

This is bad. There's no way Minho is going to be able to escape the building under these circumstances. It's brutal and dangerous and he's going to get himself shot.

You act fast, breaking away from the colleagues waiting for their turn and being affected by the bystander effect. You watch as a Launcher is pointed at the boy, as another Guard tries to wrestle him. The guy gets kneed in the groin and you dive in from behind.

Minho seems to sense you're there, spinning around to punch you, but you grab his fist, catching him by surprise and giving you a second to react. You'd done a lot more than basic WCKD training. Vince has been teaching you to fight since you first met him.

You launch your heavy boot into the bottom of Minho's shin at the front of his ankle, causing his foot to bend awkwardly. Taking the opportunity to spin him around, pulling him in front of you. You're quick to switch your grip to his wrist, forcing his arm behind his back. Kicking the weak spot on the back of his knee, he hits the floor with a thump as you hold him in place.

Minho is physically stronger than you, easily. But, you have years of practical and strategical training over his head.

"Not bad, 175," you freeze as Janson's grating voice hits your ears, "do us all a favour and take care of that delinquent- he's unfortunately important."

"Yes, Sir." He stands at the front of the room, watching as the Subjects filter past him. "Come on."

You yank Minho up, forcing him back onto his feet, he groans, anger visibly seething from him.

You hold him close to you so you can lean into his ear and whisper. "Listen man, I don't wanna hurt you but there's no way you're gonna survive here if you keep pulling shit like that."

"Why should I listen to you?" He spits. His voice is scratchy and hollow, full of hatred and aggression.

"You'd rather listen to these assholes? Trust me, I do that pretty much daily, and it's not exactly an ideal lifestyle."

He scoffs. It's dry and very clearly forced. "You think I'm gonna be your friend just 'cause you don't like your coworkers?"

Unfortunately, you have to be vague. If someone overhears and you tell him you're an ally to the Right Arm, then you're a dead man. If they think it's just dumb workplace drama, then they probably won't bat an eye.

"Quite frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think about me- I'm here to do my job. Unfortunately, my boss wants you kept kickin'." That's subtle enough to not bring concern, but intruiging enough that Minho looks over his shoulder at you.

"175," you're moving through the corridors now, having left the parking area and moving to Subject dorms. Your attention diverts to behind you as Janson touches your shoulder, having left his observation of the transfer. "Come with me. Subject A7 has a private cell per the request of Miss Paige."

"Yes, Sir."

This could be good. Minho has his own room away from the other victims, which means you'll have easier access to him.

You follow your "Boss", making no attempt to communicate with Minho in such tense circumstances now.

"That was quite the stunt you pulled," Janson speaks, making you cringe under your mask. "I don't remember many Guards being taught much hand to hand combat- we mostly focus on arms training. It's impressive."

"I excelled in the brief lessons we had, Sir. I knew some beforehand since I had to look after myself in the Scorch- fighting Cranks is no easy task." You keep your voice calm. A lot of people have similar life experiences, and if you haven't lost absolutely everything, you're classed as lucky. So, it's no shock when you casually mention hardships, giving a plausible explanation to your skills.

"I suppose so. You've come a long way, you should be proud of yourself- from street rat to WCKD agent. That's quite the accomplishment."

"Thank you, Sir, but I'm just trying to survive- just like everyone else."

"Humble, too," you can hear the smirk in his voice, "no wonder Teresa likes you."

Shit. Minho physically tenses at the mention of her name. If Janson knows that you're friendly with Teresa, then it's not really a jump in logic for him to think you're up to something.

"I'm honoured to be held in such high regard, Sir." Janson seems satisfied with this response, humming slightly.

Minho is quick to notice how different you spoke to him vs. Janson. It's very clearly a front, but he can't afford to question it.

He leads you to a small room away from the group Dorms, opening the door with a key card and revealing it. It's pretty much the same as your room, which probably says a lot about the people you're pretending to work for.

"Okay, Minho," Janson addresses the boy, condescending and irritating, "no more little stunts, okay? Your friends and the Right Arm can't reach you here. It's better you just give up and help us save humanity." He looks at you, jolting his head towards the room.

You grit your teeth, but follow the insinuation, throwing in the boy as guilt washes over you.

○ ○ ○

"I've found the boy," you pace your room once you returned, immediately contacting Vince.

"So he's there? Do you have access to him?"

"Not really- I know where he is but only higher level personnel have access to it- like Janson." You did a brief sweep of the key card requirements before you left- you're not Hugh enough ranked.

"What about Teresa?"

"Yeah, she'll probably have access."

"Okay, you can work with that, surely."

You sigh, running your fingers though your hair, "Sure, yeah, I guess. But what do you even want me to do now? Break him out? Release his file to you? Both of us escape?"

"I want you to keep an eye on him."

"Seriously?" Your face twists into a frown. "Is that it?"

"We can't risk anything. You're a one man show and one of our best resources- Thomas and his group are probably already making their way to you. God knows what their plan is, but they have more chance with you inside."

"How are they even gonna get into the City? It's on lockdown."

"I have a feeling they'll find a way," Vince huffs, clearly tired of your pressing. "Just a little longer, kid, make sure Minho is alive and okay- I don't know what they're gonna do to him, but I need you to make sure he's still breathing. Am I clear?"

"Yep," you pop the P.

"I also need you to keep quiet about your position, even to Minho."

"What, why?"

"We don't know what WCKD are going to do to him. If he says anything about our operation or you, we've done all this for nothing."

"I guess- alright. I'll sort it," disconnecting and sighing, you lay on your bed. You need to rest. These next couple of days are going to suck.

○ ○ ○

You wake the next day, and immediately start your hunt for Teresa. You have a hunch she'll be dealing with the Minho situation, or at least observing it.

The problem is that the WCKD HQ is huge. And you don't know where the experiments will be taking place. Since your job mainly just consists of walking around and keeping an eye on things, it's not like you're raising any suspicions. Especially since you helped out yesterday.

You turn a corner, spotting Teresa and Ava Paige talking, looking into a lab room with a glass window- one of the several open testing rooms found in this part of the building. You slow your pace, watching from a distance.

Teresa seems to be distressed; her fists are balled and she swallows uncomfortably, almost like she's hypnotised by what she's watching but wants to look away. Ava is unfazed, but she brushes her prodigy's shoulder as she walks away, offering some kind of sympathy.

The sound of clicking heels fade, and you make your approach. Going to speak, your breath catches in your throat as you witness the gruesome scene.

Behind the glass, Minho is strung up to some kind of contraption. Screens surround him and wires come from all over his body. He's stood upright, a foot above the floor and held in place as they start the machine again. One of the screens shows brain wave patterns that indicate high levels of stress.

"He's dreaming." Teresa speaks without pulling her eyes away.

"Dreaming?" You question. This looks anything but peaceful to you.

"Induced dreaming- they're forcing him to experience high stress situations to see how it affects the Kill-Zone," her words are shakey, and you latch onto that.

"You don't sound like you approve." She looks at you, even though she's never seen you without your mask, your voice and the numbers sewn on your sleeve tell her enough- she could tell its you from a mile away.

"During my time in the Maze- and the Scorch -Minho was brave. He's one of the most courageous people I've ever met. I can't tell you how many times he threw himself on grenades to protect us." She smiles, almost fondly as she looks back at the glass. "One time, when we were escaping the WCKD lab after being saved from the Maze, he ran full force and kneed an armed Guard. Completely knocked him out in one go; still probably one of the coolest things I've heard someone do."

"He sounds like he meant a lot to you," she lets out a sad chuckle.

"They all meant a lot to me but... I don't know. I made choices they don't agree with. They refuse to see the bigger picture, and I don't think they ever will."

"Why don't you try talking to him? Maybe visit him in his cell? Even if it's just to make sure he's okay." Come on, if you can get her on this line of thinking, you're more likely to get into Minho's cell.

"I'm too busy- besides, I doubt he'd want to see me. He hates me."

"Ah, yeah, that's a problem," she laughs dryly.

"Would you do it for me?" You tilt your head at her, exaggerating your confusion.

"Do what for you?"

"Look after Minho? Janson says you handled him easily yesterday, so there's no worries about him escaping or causing problems."

"I can't- I don't have high enough card access to enter the cells." She looks at you, thinking for a second.

"I'll get your card access upgraded. I trust you to take care of him- he deserves as much."

And just like that, she'd played into your hands. You're mainly relieved your hours of talking to her had actually paid off in some sense, that much was proven when she found you later that day- presenting you with a new key card.

Heading towards Minho's cell, no one even batted an eye when they saw you slide the key down the lock and the light flashed green.

Minho's sat on the floor, back resting against the bed frame, his legs bent and head in his hands. He doesn't even react to the sound of the door opening or closing.

"I brought you some decent food."

Still nothing.

Cautiously, you walk over to him, crouching and placing the dish on the floor. He looks at it out of the corner of his eye, which is kind of an improvement.

You cross your legs, sitting next to him but facing him. Silence fills the room and you let it. Minho is going to have to talk to you on his own terms if he's going to talk to you at all.

A good five minutes passes.

"You're not gonna leave, are you?" His voice sounds dry and is barely a whisper compared to the aggressive boy you'd tackled not even forty-eight hours prior.

"Nope."

"Did you at least get me a shuckin' drink?"

"...I'll be back. What would you like?"

"Do I even have a choice?"

"I'm asking, aren't I?"

"...Anything alcoholic?"

"No."

"Juice then."

You return ten minutes later with a glass full of orange juice, taking the sitting position that you had previously.

To your surprise, he's now sat with his legs crossed, holding the tray of beef, mash, gravy, and veg that you stole from the dining area on his lap.

You gently place the glass next to him, and he anxiously looks at it. "Not poisoned, right?"

You sigh, lifting the bottom on your mask and taking a sip, returning it to it's spot. He still hesitates, glancing down at his plate. So, you reach over, picking up a small piece of meat, struggling slightly to put it in your mouth under the mask.

He seems to accept this. It takes him a second, but he slowly starts eating- mainly picking at the food and taking slight sips of his drink, but progress is progress.

"You should count yourself lucky- the others aren't getting this quality food."

"Is that meant to make me feel better?" You guess that comment was a bit insensitive.

"Sorry, but you need to eat. You need the energy."

"What? So I'm strong enough to be tortured?"

You hesitate, feeling genuinely bad. "I'm sorry that-"

"No, you're not!" He snaps to face you, eyes full of fury and for a second you think he's going to attack you. "175, right?" He glances at your sleeve, "You stopped me from escaping."

"I stopped you from getting killed."

"I had it under control."

"Didn't look like it." His jaw tenses, staring down at his meal. "WCKD's Guards are trained with guns and weaponry- you're important but not nearly enough for them to risk you ruining their whole operation."

"You mean your whole operation."

"Whatever," you spit, determined to follow Vince's request, "I saved your ass, whether you appreciate it or not. I didn't know what they were going to do to you, I'm only here because-"

"Because Teresa wants you to look after me?" You blink at him, even if he can't see it. "Yeah, I saw you, even if I wasn't conscious. I knew it was you- same height and everythin'. You're helping that shuck-faced shank 'cause she feels bad that she's a shuckin' traitor that sentenced all her friends to death. Betraying little-"

"Okay," you cut him off, "I get it. I don't agree with it- do you seriously think I'd be here if I was just doing this because some bitch who doesn't even respect me asked?"

He looks at you. He really looks at you, like he can see straight through your uniform and into your soul.

"What other reason do you have?"

You shake your head, sighing through your mask. "Finish your food. I need to get rid of the dish- I'll get in deep shit if they find out I'm giving handouts to prisoners."

"The traitor didn't tell you to feed me?"

"Nah, did that all on my own." He snorts, kind of like a forced laugh, but he seems to relax a bit.

The remainder of your interaction is in silence. Minho finishes his food quickly, picking up pace once he gets taste for it. He finishes his drink, passing the glass to you instead of just putting it on the ground.

You stand and leave without saying another word. Minho doesn't attempt to change that.

This is going to be harder than you first thought.

Thomas better work fast.

○ ○ ○

You desperately try to avoid Teresa the next day, and you missed Minho for breakfast since they already took him for another round of glorified torture.

Your avoidance did not work.

"175." You've been guarding the entrance of the building for the last seven hours and you think you're starting to hallucinate. So, when Teresa actually approaches you, probably to leave for the day, you kind of wish she wasn't real.

"Hey," you greet her, for some reason smiling even though there is literally no point. "You okay?"

"I was wondering how Minho's doing?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" You attempt to joke, but when her face drops, you realise you've miss-stepped. "He's fine. As fine as you can be in this situation." You lie, mainly just wanting her to leave.

"Okay," she nods her head, accepting this, "thank you for this."

"It's no problem, Miss Agnes."

"Please, call me Teresa," she offers you a genuine smile and for a second you understand why Minho's so hurt.

"Okay then, Teresa." She flashes another smile before walking through the doors. Of course, WCKD scientists get high-end apartments away from the building.

The second day of your new routine starts. You bring Minho food- and you remember the juice, though it does make it harder to open the door.

This time, he's lay on the floor. Not the bed, the floor.

"Uh, you good?" The question even sounds dumb leaving your lips.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" He grumbles, eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling.

"Yeah, fair point." You sit on the edge of his bed, putting the food next to you but still holding the glass so it doesn't spill. Having a sticky orange juice covered bed would not improve his day. "I've brought you chicken wings and some fries, they were out of the healthy option."

He reluctantly sits up, shuffling across the floor and using the bed as a table as he sits in front of you. You pass his the drink and he sets it on the floor.

"If you're not doing this for Teresa, why are you doing this?" He asks between struggled mouthfuls of food.

You shrug, playing off your intentions. "Wanna pretend I'm a good person."

He scoffs, "No one who works here is a good person."

"That's why I said pretend."

You like to think you're doing a good job at keeping up the act. And maybe if Minho wasn't so exhausted and in pain, he might pick up on something not being quite right.

Though, you have to at least provide Vince with some kind of intel. Teresa said he's dreaming to stress the Kill-Zone part of the brain, but what's the point?

"What exactly are they doing to you?" He pauses for moment, clearly not wanting to think about it.

"Torture."

"I mean, I gathered that." Unfortunately, you have to stay stoic. Fortunately, you've basically been trained your whole life for this.

"I don't know- they put me in some weird trance and I see all the horrible things that's happened mixed with, like, a remix of traumatic things I've gone through- like they're using my shuckin' memories against me to make new ones or some klunk."

Well, that offered nothing, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. It's weird. It feels so real and I can't tell it's fake when it's happening. But I'll be getting chased by Grievers down concrete corridors, or be back in that mall being hunted down by Cranks, except it's warped and keeps changing and I can't find the way we escaped. It's like being back in the shuckin' Maze, except they can control my entire body and make me do whatever they want. It's the Maze without being safe in the Glade at night, and I don't actually know how to survive."

"Huh," now, this is interesting.

"What? What is it?"

"They're trying to gain similar- or better -results as they did for the Maze trails. Except the Right Arm knows the location of all the Mazes, and pretty much all WCKD facilities so they're being forced to use psychological torture and hallucinations to mimic it instead. Since the City is on lockdown and no one can access it."

He pauses completely, blinking at you.

"What? I don't get it- why would torturing a bunch of immune teenagers help anyone."

"Because they want to cure the Flare."

"So?"

"So, Munnies and normal folk have the same structure brain, except the Kill-Zone area, the part of the brain that's damaged by the Flare, is left unaffected in those who are immune. The Kill-Zone reacts under extreme stress and produces new results and hormones that could, in theory, be used to create a cure."

Minho stops completely, the fork he's holding clattering onto the plate as he just stares at you.

"What?"

"How the shuck do you know all this? You're just a Guard but you know the biology behind all the science?"

"It's kind of common knowledge," you bluff, "the Flare's been plaguing humanity for a while- everyone knows the basic science behind it. I don't know what they expected, really."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know the Flare is man-made, right?"

A beat passes, horror crossing Minho's face. "What?"

"When the Solar Flares hit, millions of people died, but half the world was pretty much left kinda intact. But, it meant we lost half the globe's worth of supplies and important necessities, so the growing population issue grew tenfold. So, for some fuckin' reason, the big bosses of the World thought it would be a smart idea to make a deadly virus to use as population control. The virus was too strong, spread too fast- those geniuses didn't think to make a cure just in case things went wrong. And, well, the rest is history."

You're actually shocked that Vince, or even WCKD didn't tell them this, because Minho seems genuinely dumbfounded.

"Shuck it," he rests his elbows on the bed, head in his hands. "Why am I not even surprised? Trust some random WCKD shank to be giving me a buggin' history lesson."

"Kinda figured someone woulda said something."

"Yeah, well, they didn't. Some shuck-face shucked up and now I'm being literally tortued to fix it. Brilliant."

"Bummer," he snorts at this.

"Yeah, you can shuckin' say that again."

"Why do you talk like that?" You decide to ask him more questions, mainly because you are genuinely confused.

"Like what?"

"Like that? Yanno, shuck, shank, buggin', klunk- you talk fuckin' weird."

"It's just how we spoke in the Glade. Don't really know how it started, but it's engrained in my vocab now."

"That's kinda cool," he raises his eyebrow, starting to eat again, "leave a bunch of teenagers to fend for themselves and they start makin' up words. It's just interesting."

"Yeah," he hums, "guess it kinda is."

○ ○ ○

You fell surprisingly easily into a routine. You talk to Minho, inform Vince of the current WCKD methods and then go about your job.

It's a lot of effort, but Minho is starting to be less reluctant to talk to you. He fondly retells stories of the Glade, like how he and Thomas survived a night, how bad Frypan's stew was, and that one time Zart accidentally burnt down a hut and Gally didn't talk to him for a month. It sounds like they were genuinely happy there, and it breaks your heart that Minho seems to wish he was back in that trap. Especially when he tells some of the darker stories.

But now there's a problem. Vince had always been touchy and strict about relationships. He didn't want you distracted or upset over some boy, so relationships were forbidden. And considering he's the closest you have to a father figure, you obeyed. Though, that means you've never been romantically involved with a boy through your entire teenage years.

And the first time you've ended up spending long amounts of time with a boy is with the torture victim you're trying to comfort whilst simultaneously convincing him you're the reason for his capture. A very good-looking boy who seems to be warming up to you.

A very good-looking, strong boy who listens to what you tell him and seems to be taking an interest in you and is very passionate about his opinions. Opinions that, unbeknownst to him, align perfectly with yours.

Oh no.

"I don't even know your name." You and Minho sit on the floor, playing Black Jack with a pack of cards you managed to sneak into his room. He's slowly being worn down. His features are more sucken, his skin pale and his hair dishevelled and messy. None of which you can really help. "Or what you look like."

"You don't need to know my name, or what I look like, to get your ass handed to you at Twenty-One last time I checked." He rolls his eyes. He acts like a completely different person around you than to the other Guards. It's hard to watch the empty shell of the person he normally is in this room be pushed around.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

"No can do, sweetheart," admittedly, you want to take your mask off because it makes seeing the cards harder. But it does mean you don't have to worry about your pokerface.

Pet names had become an interesting topic. You used to endearingly call members of the Right Arm things like sweetheart, or doll, or hun- something you picked up from your father. Something that has bled into your relationship with Minho.

Not that he complains.

"C'mon," he groans, "how am I meant to be friends with a faceless freak?"

"You think we're friends?" You ask, genuinely as you take another card off of the deck, cringing as it's the ten of clubs which takes you to twenty-five.

"Well," he shrugs, "what else am I meant to call it? Stockholme Syndrome?"

"Wouldn't be that wrong of a diagnosis. You taking another card?"

"Are you?" You shake your head. Minho reveals his hand, showing twenty on his cards, and you dramatically throw yours down, showing your loss.

"God dammit!" He barks a laugh at your reaction. "Why am I so bad at this?"

"You're just playing against a master," you galre at him, "I had plenty of practice in the Glade."

"It's a game based on luck- you can't master it."

"That's what you think."

○ ○ ○

Maybe you got too used to your routine- too comfortable with Minho and the situation you're in, but when Teresa told you she'd finally gained enough courage to speak to Minho, you knew it would end badly.

Teresa enlisted you to guard the room, but with the door closed and your colleagues discussing lunch next to you, it's kinda hard to hear what's going on.

That's until Minho screams the word "Traitor" followed by a loud slamming noise.

Shit.

The other Guards scramble into the room, knocking into you and halting your progress. You burst in, panic swelling in your chest as one of them holds up a buzzing taser. Darting forward, you grab the Guard's arm, placing one arm on Minho's back to at least play it off as the shocked masked man lets go slightly.

"Stop!" You snap. "He's subdued! We don't need to inflict unnecessary pain!"

"It's protocol to-"

"175 is right," Teresa comes to your defense, controlling the atmosphere of the room. "Subject A7 has been through enough- he's in no position to cause any further harm. Return him to his cell and only act if necessary."

Without words, you yank Minho up by the back of his shirt, cringing at the 'PROPERTY OF WCKD' printed on the back. You undo the cuffs from the table and reattach them to his wrists. He makes no effort to resist. He knows he's safer with you than he is with any of his other options.

You walk him down the halls. The rage seeps off of him, his skin under his shirt is warm and his cuffed hands are balled. Unlocking the door to his cell, you push him in, probably a little bit too aggressive. But you tell yourself it's for show.

"What the fuck was that?" You hiss, stepping into the cell. Minho immediately turns to face you, his nostrils flaring, jaw tense and for the first time, you realise how scary he really can be.

"You're shucking kidding, right?" He shouts, causing you to immediately panic and try to shush him. "I'm here because of her! Everything we did- everything we went through- is because of her! And you expect me to be calm about this klunk? Just because you can act like an apathetic shuck-face, doesn't mean I can!"

He slowly walks towards you, throwing his words at you. You back away, not realising how close the door is until you hit your back against it. Minho towers over you, still in cuffs, leaving very little space between you as his chest rises and falls.

"I'm sorry-"

"Sorry? You're helping them! You are keeping me here! Why? You clearly don't like them and have some morals deep down- but you're still bringing me to this shuckin' cell!"

"I have no choice!" You finally shout back, making him flinch. "I don't want to watch this shit- or hurt you or anyone! But I can't help you if I'm fucking dead, Minho! You can get away with this shit because they need you! They don't need me! If I step too far out of line- then I'm dead!"

His features soften as he steps back, giving you more room to breathe.

"What exactly do you want me to do? Trust me, if I could, we'd be long gone from this hell-hole but I have no way of doing that without at least me ending up in a body bag." You huff, crossing your arms across your chest. "And what use would I be to you then?"

The bed squeaks under Minho's weight as he sits down. His legs are spread, elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands. Neither of you say anything for a couple of minutes; you take the opportunity to compose yourself.

Until Minho sniffs.

"Minho?" You push away from the door, cautiously making slow steps towards him. "Minho? Are you okay?"

"I can't do this anymore," his voice breaks as he speaks, shattering your heart in the process. "I can't- I don't- how am I meant to keep doing this?" He groans, frustration mixed with a sob shakes his whole body.

You make the bold move to sit next to him, being closer to him than you've ever dared before at the bed sinks under your weight, you shoulders bumping slightly.

"This is so much worse than the shuckin' Maze- at least I had some control in there. But here? My body- my mind- I- fuck! I have nothing. I-I feel like I'm dying. I can't live like this. Teresa said that I'm saving some kid by being tortured. But what about me? What about all the other shanks they're putting through this klunk? How is this fair? For a shuckin' maybe? They don't even know it's gonna work- how can you justify this?"

You choose to ignore the final comment, even if it stings. Gingerly, you put your arm around his shoulders, rubbing small circles into the top of his arm. He doesn't pull away, his arms dropping to between his legs.

"It's gonna be okay," you sooth him, "we're gonna get out of here, okay?" He scoffs, shaking his head.

"How am I meant to believe you? I can't even trust you."

You know he's right, but it doesn't hurt any less. You wish you could tell himself everything. About the Right Arm and why you're here- everything that Vince told you to keep to yourself.

"I know," you sigh, "I'm sorry." He looks at you, his tear stained face and puffy eyes sending a new drive of determination through you.

To your shock, he rests his head on your shoulder, allowing you to hug him further, resting your head on top of his.

"I hate you," he whispers, more like he's trying to convince himself than he is telling you.

In all honesty, Minho probably had started to develop some liking towards you. And that's what he hates. He thinks you're the enemy, that you're the reason he's here- but he doesn't have anyone else. He's completely on his own until you come into his room. He doesn't even know who you are, but he's already getting attached to you.

"Yeah, I know. Want me to take your cuffs off?"

"Please."

○ ○ ○

You slam the door to your room, immediately throwing your mask across the small space, hearing it thump against the wall. You connect to Vince, fury coursing through tour veins.

"(Y/N)?" The line connects in your ear, "You're not meant to be calling at this-

"Vince," your voice is sharp and concerned, "I need to do something- Minho is on the verge of a complete mental breakdown and I'm starting to regress in progress." You refer to his words instead of his actions- things are already complicated enough.

"Look, I'm in contact with Jorge. Things should start moving soon; Thomas and Newt have made a deal to get into the City. Stick to the plan and be prepared. I need to go."

"What? Vince-" the line falls dead, leaving you alone in your room.

The tests increase over the next couple of days. You've barely seen Minho, and Teresa completely vanishes for nearly an entire day, which raises alarm bells all over the tower- but she returns seemingly unharmed.

Until the alarms start blaring not even hours later.

Fuck.

"175!" A masked Guard bursts into your dorm, scaring the shit out if you not even seconds after the blaring starts. "There are intruders in the building! The Subjects have been released!Come on!"

He runs off, giving you absolutely no time to process what's happening. Diving under your bed, you pull out guns and weaponry you snuck into the building, straping them around your black turtle neck you wear under your uniform before hiding them with your jacket.

You burst out of the room, pulling your mask on and joining the hoards of Guards flooding through the building.

You break away. You know that Minho will be in the testing area since he won't have been with the other Subjects. So, that's where you go.

The tower has fallen into complete chaos. People are shooting at each other and Guards are running around like headless chickens.

You can't get distracted though.

You break into a sprint, staying away from everyone else as you rush to make your way up to the lab where Minho can normally be found. The lab area is surprisingly quiet, probably because you decided to take the stairs for the most part. Using your endless training for Vince to run up the multiple flights of stairs.

You do give up and take an elevator for the last few floors though. You're not superman.

Bursting onto the floor, several scientists seem thrilled that help is here, and are met with disappointment when you completely ignore them. Sprinting down the halls, you skid to a halt.

One of the lab rooms has the door thrown open. A man in a white lab coat is lay on the floor, blood pouring from his side as others seem to be knocked out and scattered across the room.

"Fuck!" You exclaim. If you had any doubts that Minho could handle himself, you definitely don't now.

"175!" Two Guards stand at the end of the hallway. "Subject A7 has escaped! We need to find him. Come on!"

You're left with little choice but to follow them. You all jog down the corridors, the opposite way to which you were originally planing on tracking Minho's footsteps.

You can see Minho, and assumingly Thomas and Newt hugging beyond a room that's walls are all glass. One of the windows from the far room is completely shattered, and you can see a knocked out Guard on the floor.

"Hands up!" The Guard on your left shouts, catching the three boys off-guard. "Drop your weapons!"

Judging by the fact none of the trio move, you're assuming that they've ran out of ammo.

One on your left, the other on your right, you whip your gun out, pointing it at your unsuspecting allies.

It's now or never.

Minho's face drops at the realisation it's you. Was everything you said a lie to make him more compliant? Despite the uniform, he's gotten completely used to you based on height and the brown army boots you wear- different to the black owns adorn by the rest of WCKD employees. It's a subtle difference implemented by Vince just in case. But Minho doesn't know that.

"Seriously?" He snaps, making the other boys exchange glances. "After all this- everything that's happened- you're still with them?"

Newt and Thomas look completely lost, looking back at Minho, who is staring directly at you, hands still at his side.

"Please," you scoff, "I was never with them."

Without warning, you slam your elbow into the stomach of the guard on your left, using the shock to slam to end of your gun into the side of their head. The other one goes to shoot at you, but you rip your Guard's jacket off, throwing it at them.

It engulfs them entirely, making them stumble back. Pointing the pistol at them, a loud bang fills the room as the bullet finds its new home through the fabric and in the Guard's head. Their body hits the floor in a heap and you make no attempt to retrieve your jacket.

Minho steps back, stunned. His hands go to his hair as the other boys lower their arms.

"It's nice to finally meet you, (Y/N)." Thomas sounds surprisingly calm, Newt looks between him and Minho, the cogs setting in place.

"Likewise," you grab the bottom of your mask, pulling it over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Finally revelaing yourself to Minho, you feel slightly insecure about what he'll think of your face, but you don't show it. Not that it matters because he's staring at you in some form of awe.

"What? You guys know- what? What is happening?"

"I'll explain later- we need to move." The boys all mumble in agreement as you join them, hearing footsteps and Janson's irriating voice not that far away.

You all start moving, you taking the lead with more of an understanding of the building.

"What? I don't understand what's happening? How do you know her?" He asks Thomas as your eyes land on Newt. You've seen their files, a long time ago, but you can tell who's who.

Newt's skin is pale, his eyes dark and he glistens with sweat. He's infected. And you're not immune. This could end badly.

"She's with the Right Arm- Vince's secret weapon."

"Sorry I didn't tell you, hun, but I was under strict orders to keep my mouth shut. Let's just get out of here alive and I'll explain everything," you try to hurry them along. "Tommy-boy, fill me in on what's going on."

Just as the words leave your mouth, static connects in your ear. Vince.

"(Y/N), I'm on my way to the City- what's going on on your end?"

"I'm with the boys," you respond, completely confusing the trio even more. Voices behind you and footsteps make you all break into a sprint. "Here! Come on!" You pull them into a room, they barricade the door as you continue talking.

"We're tryna get out but it's not looking good."

"What now?" Newt asks as you all examine the room. "Is there another way out of here?" He asks you and you simply shake your head.

The drilling sound of a mechanical saw fills to room.

"Any ideas?" Minho shouts, backing away from the door.

Thomas turns around, examining the window. "Maybe."

It take the three of them to pick up a metal container, presumably full of anaesthetic gas through the window. It shatters on impact, sending shards and the cannister hundred of feet down into the water.

You all stand on the edge, looking at the boy as he seems to be questioning himself. "Okay, it's doable- just need a little running start."

All three of look at each other like Thomas is losing his mind. But you still all follow him further back into the room, standing by his side. You stand between Minho and Thomas, taking a second to think about how you life has led you to this.

"You sure about this?" Minho asks him, and it's obvious these boys are going to follow him to the ends of the Earth.

"Not really."

Well, that's brilliant.

"Nice pep talk." Minho sarcastically states, his wit still prominent as ever.

"Yeah, we're all blood inspired."

At least the feeling is mutual.

The door bursts open with a bang, all of you turning to face Janson breaking into the room before Minho grabs your hand, dragging you with him as you all break into a sprint. Jumping at the last second, you all plummet out of the window.

"Thomas!" Minho yells.

"Oh shit!" Thomas responds.

You're submerged in the water, just managing to hold your breath last second. It takes all of you a moment to rise again, all panting and all stressed.

Gasping for air, you and Minho look up, catching Janson standing at the edge of the window.

Thomas puts his middle finger up at him.

Kind of iconic.

Swimming to get to the ledge, you make sure they reach them first, taking Thomas' hand as he pulls you out of the water.

"You four, don't move!" You all immediately turn to face to group of WCKD's armed men walking towards you. Thomas takes the front as Minho grabs your arm, pulling you protectively behind him.

He seems to have forgiven you pretty fast, at least.

"Take it easy!" One of the masked men shouts. Hidden by Minho, you pull another gun out of your weapon holder that's strapped around your middle. Thomas also reaches for a gun.

"Ah-ah! Don't even think about it! Get on your knees with your hands in the air!"

One of the Guards suddenly turns around, shooting the other three that are standing with him. Minho immediately steps back, reaching for you and finding contact with your wrist.

"You son of a bitch!" One of them groans, the electricity from the Launcher leaving them useless.

Your savior approaches, taking his mask of and revealing... some dude. Though the others seem shocked.

"Gally?" Minho gasps, and you snap to look at him, returning to his side.

"Minho." The boy simply says. "You guys are nuts." He looks at you. "(Y/N) (L/N), big fan." You blink at him.

"Thanks?"

"I'll explain later," Thomas playful pats his friend on the arm whilst Minho is having some kind of internal meltdown. He's going to be enlightened by the time everyone's told him everything.

The other boys walks ahead and you look at him. "I thought you said you..." You trail off, completely at a loss yourself and remembering what he'd told you about Gally.

"Yeah, me too."

You both connect back to the group, awkwardly ducking and crouching whilst you run through the City.

Trying to hide from helicopters isn't easy.

"Well, they're definitely pissed," Gally states as you hide behind some planters that some trees are in.

"How far are the tunnels?" Thomas asks the new boy.

"Uh, maybe twelve blocks from here." Newt coughs, and you look at Minho, who is very clearly in some serious distress. "We can make it."

"Newt, how you feeling?" Minho crouches in front of his friend.

"Terrible," the boy responds honestly. "It's good to see you though." He pats his friend weakly, and you remind yourself to stay at a safe distance.

Minho joins the other boys whilst you stay with Newt. "He's one lucky shank," Newt tries to laugh.

"What?"

"Havin' you around- some badass chick lookin' after him whilst we couldn't. Pretty, too." You scoff at Newt's attempt at small talk.

"I don't know if he'll agree with that."

"Hey, Newt, we gotta get you up. Gotta get goin'." You help Thomas pull up the sick boy, who nearly falls flat on his face whilst Minho and Gally exchange some words.

Minho takes Newt off of your shoulders, sensing your slight distance from the boy.

They start struggling to carry Newt through the City, when a load explosion and bursts of flames from the walls stops you all dead in your tracks.

"We're supposed to take down WCKD, not the whole damn City," Gally stares into the flames, and you have no idea what's going on. But that's not good.

"Gally, c'mon," Thomas say, yanking them both away whilst you stand with Gally, waiting for him to move. Sirens fill your ears as you start to follow him.

"Tunnels are right up ahead. Shit!" You move round a corner, following Gally's instructions, only to come across a battle field. "Stay low! Stay low!"

"What are they waiting for?" Minho asks as you all hide once again. Unfortunately, he's answered as another round of explosions courses through the streets.

Violence erupts. "We gotta go! We gotta go!" The boys struggle moving Newt again, and you stay behind Gally. Desperately trying to not get hit, you hold your gun in your hands, ready to kill anyone that gets too close. Your job now is to protect these boys.

You retreat to a nearby building, where Thomas contacts Brenda over the radio. You can't make out what they're saying over the static and gunshots. You're too busy trying to shield Newt and Minho.

Though you do make out a clear. "I'm coming to you."

Vince.

You pick up again. "We're almost there," Gally pushes forward, taking the lead as you cover the back.

"Just leave me," Newt grumbles before a truck explodes, sliding across the roads.

A Berg flies overhead, giving you some glimsp of hope. But with Newt is his current condition, you can't keep moving.

"Minho," Thomas looks at his friend, "you run ahead, grab the serum, and get back to us as soon as you can." The boy hesitates, looking at Thomas. "Minho. Go."

"He's right," Gally states, "I can cover."

"Me too," you add.

"No, you're staying here, you could get hurt," Minho tells you, showing you that he actually might not hate you after all.

"I'm coming with you." You're more definite, putting your foot down and leaving with no choice.

Minho caves, going to stand until Newt grabs him. "Thank you." Black drool covers his chin, and his eyes are bloodshot and shifty. He's not gone just yet, but it's not far off. "Thank you, Minho."

"Hey, just hang on, you hear me?"

The three of you make your move. You and Gally cover the faster boy, both of you using your expertise to let him make a run for it.

Teresa's voice rings over the loudspeakers. Her voice trying to pressure Thomas to return to her. But you, Gally and Minho can't afford to stop and listen.

Running at full speed, you reach the Berg, not taking any time to acknowledge your father figure you haven't seen in nearly two years.

"Where's the serum?" Minho yells at a girl with short hair- you're assuming Brenda.

She makes a run for it. Bolting through the City and you're all hot on her heels, a new boy, Frypan, joining the mix.

The four of you get stuck in a tunnel during a shootout, using a car for cover as Brenda keeps going.

"Shit," Minho hisses from next to you. You look at him. "You should've told me."

"I couldn't," the poor Frypan clearly has no idea what either of you are talking about. "You know I couldn't."

"I could've- we could've- shuck it!" He lashes out, kicking a piece of debris that's in front of him. "We need to help Newt. This can wait."

He's mad at you. It's weird- he's protective but furious. He doesn't want you to get hurt but that might be because he wants to hurt you himself.

"Come on!" Gally shouts, "We're clear! Let's move!"

And with that, you're all on your feet again, dodging bullets and flying through the City to try and return to Thomas and his sick friend.

You slow to a jog as the people in front of you slow, spotting Brenda motionlessly standing in an empty pathway. You once again stay back, just about joining them as you watch Minho hit the floor.

His body crumbles in front of Newt's corpse, a knife sticking out of his chest. You stand next to Brenda, observing the distraught washing over the group. You've known Newt for under half an hour, but you can tell he played a huge part in these people's lives.

You suck in a deep breath, approaching Minho from behind. "I'm sorry," you murmur. "I'm so sorry, Minho."

He pulls his eyes away, looking at you instead as you rest your hand on his shoulder.

"You really couldn't have done anything, could you?" He's sincere, all of his anger washing away for a second. You shake your head.

He's on his feet in seconds, throwing his arms around you, knocking you back slightly. His entire world as he knows it is crumbling, but he's seeking comfort in you.

You hug him back, your hand coming to the back of his head, holding him steady as his body trembles. "We can't stay here," you whisper. "We need to move."

"She's right," Gally agrees, overhearing, "it's dangerous. We need to get back to the Berg."

"What about Thomas?" Brenda's voice breaks.

"We'll find him," you pull away from the boy. "But we have more chance of doing that from the Berg."

They all agree, leaving Newt's body and returning to the perilous task of making your way through the City. You take control, being the only person in sound mind to do so.

It takes a lot, but you get there, making sure everyone enters the Berg before you.

"(Y/N)!" You turn as Vince makes his way over to you. "You did it!"

"Vince!" Throwing your arms around him, you allow yourself to relax. You both pull away, emotions of the past two years of your life finally starting to spill out. "We lost Newt."

He sighs. "I'm sorry. But you did everything you could."

"No," you sniff, "I didn't. I could have done more- figured something out. Done literally anything else- I- I could've saved him."

Unbeknownst to you, Minho is watching and listening from a distance. He's known you as stern and in control this entire time, but watching you fall apart in Vince's presence reminds him that you're just another kid that's been put through hell.

He wasn't mad at you anymore. Seeing Newt's corpse and the sympathy you possessed showed him that. But now he pities you. He doesn't know anything of the sacrifices you've made.

"That wasn't your job- it was meant to just be a simple intel gig and it all went wrong. I shouldn't have put that pressure on you." Vince's words do little to make you feel better.

"We have to find Thomas," you compose yourself, returning to your normal stoic form in the blink of an eye.

You make your way onto the Berg, Vince not too far behind you. You make eye contact with Minho, but you don't have time to deal with that right now.

"Miss (L/N)," (you're assuming) Jorge approaches you, a grin on his face, "it's an honour to meet you." He holds his hand out for you to shake. "Ha! You're a living legend, hermano. In the flesh."

"Don't go praising me so soon, dude, this shit ain't over yet." He follows you like a lost dog as you travel further into the ship, "Have you got Thomas' location?"

"The signals weak and the building's burning- but he seems to have returned to the area of WCKD's tower."

"That's where we'll head then."

"Wait," Vince stands behind you as you ignore the stares from the Berg full of people, "the City's being destroyed- I don't know if this is a good idea."

"We can't leave him- we wouldn't be here if it weren't for him he deserves a chance at a happy life and we've already lost too many good people. We're saving Thomas, V. I don't care what you say." Vince looks at Jorge, who has a faint smile creeping across his and returns the stare.

"I'm doin' what the girl says. Kid's got fire; can tell you raised her." Jorge winks at you, making his way to the cockpit.

"You've changed, huh?" You don't even bother looking at Vince.

"It's been a rough couple of years. Let's just get this over with."

The Berg starts up, and you join Brenda, Gally, Frypan and Minho at the open doors, examining the City and the surrounding area of the burning tower.

"So," Gally starts, "everything they say about you? It true?"

"Depends what they're saying." You don't pull your eyes away from the ground as the Berg moves in large, circular motions.

"A lot of klunk about causing WCKD problems- apparently you were the one that convinced Thomas to release WCKD co-ordinates to Dr. Cooper."

Minho looks at you, but don't meet his eyes.

"Yeah, I might've had something to do with that."

You finally raise higher, examining the top of the now fully inflamed tower.

"There!" You shout, "That's them!" Thomas is clearly injured, half being carried by Teresa.

So, he did return.

"What's wrong with him?" Frypan shouts and you shake your head.

"I don't know. Jorge! Get closer!"

There's a struggle as the Berg moves, your hearing turns to static as all you can focus on is reaching them. Qualms with Teresa aside, she's clearly helping Thomas.

Come on! Move closer! Let's go!

The same phrases are repeated as you slide further down the door, clinging onto one of the wire hinges so you don't fall and join them. You grab Thomas, along with the others' hands grabbing towards him, with the help of Teresa throwing him.

You manage to pull him on, and he immediately turns to Teresa. You go to reach out to her, but an explosion knocks her back, forcing the Berg to pull away.

A missile hits the building, and you all watch in horror as it collapses beneath Teresa, swallowing her into the darkness.

○ ○ ○

The next few hours are a complete blur. Thomas had been shot and was seriously bleeding out. With the help of you and Vince, you managed to slow the bleeding.

You didn't even get a chance to admire the Safe Haven when you finally landed because you were too busy trying to save Thomas' life. You got him to the medical professionals, and after several jarring hours, they confirmed he'd be okay. But he'd be asleep for a while.

Since then, you've been spending all your time catching up with Vince and reconnecting with the people you grew up with. It's very bittersweet, and you haven't had the chance, or the bravery, to talk to Minho yet.

You decided to give the Gladers some space. They'd been through hell and they need to process and talk amongst themselves for a while.

After a while, Thomas wakes up, and you watch his reunion with Minho from a distance.

Your feelings for Minho are complicated, and it's beyond clear, so are his for you. It wasn't ever going to be simple, but the events of him turning to you for comfort at least tell you there's more than his initial anger.

"You like him, don't you?" Vince's voice makes you jump as you lean against a wooden beam, observing from your safe space.

"What?"

"Minho? You like him."

You scoff. "I don't think it really matters. I don't know if it ever will."

"You protected him and saved him."

"I also held him captive and did nothing to stop the torture."

"You couldn't have done anything."

"That's not the point, and you know it."

He sighs.

"I thought you were against boys and shit, anyway?" You glance over your shoulder at him.

He shrugs, "You're clearly more than capable of making your own choices. And we're not permanently fighting for our lives anymore, so I don't really have a problem with it. You deserve to have a normal life, kid. You might finally get that here." He rubs your shoulder, slipping past and leaving you to think.

○ ○ ○

Night falls quickly. Vince finally gives a speech, earning rounds of cheers from around the bonfire as you hover behind him, staring off into the crowd with your hands in your pockets.

Vince reveals a large stone pillar in the centre of the sitting area, talking about remembering those we've lost and keeping their memories alive. You watch as Vince is the first, carving Mary's name into the stone.

To your surprise, Vince then immediately hands the chisel to you. You blink at it, before realising and taking it off of you.

People one by one, with their own tools, take the chance to add to the memorial.

You take your time, carving names into the stone, recounting the events of your life. You step back, smiling to yourself, admiring your own work. Even under the depressing conditions.

"Who are they?" You look over your shoulder, your body following you as you stand sideways. Minho's gaze is fixated on the stone. He looks a lot better now, clearly having a couple of days to recover.

"They're uh, they're my parents," you avoid his gaze, but answer honestly.

"You lost your parents?"

"I've lost everyone. My whole family, but I don't think there's enough space for them all," the joke is dark, and Minho doesn't laugh, even when you scoff.

"I had no idea."

"How could you?" You sigh, "You know nothing about me."

"Do you miss them?" The question makes you hesitate.

"I barely knew my mother- the Flare got her when I was young, so..."

"That's not what I asked," his tone is blunt, obviously still harbouring some negativity within the complications.

"...Yes. I miss them. I doubt there will be a day when I don't. My father used to say something that I think is still important- 'mortality doesn't ruin love; it only makes it stronger'."

He looks at you. For the first time, he seems to finally see the real person that's standing in front of you. "Does it ever get better?"

"Yeah, it gets better," you offer him a sympathetic smile, knowing what he's talking about. "The painful memories just become... memories after a while. It feels like it'll never get better, but it does. It becomes precious instead of hard to think about." You step towards him, handing the chisel to him.

He takes it, slowly, seemingly letting your fingers brush against each other on purpose. You go to walk away, but his voice stops you.

"Hey, 175," the number stuns you, making you spin on your heels, rage flooding your features. But it melts away the second you see Minho's dumb grin. "You're right. I don't know anything about you- but I'd like to. If you're willing to tell me."

You nod, smiling at him, "Yeah, I'd like that."

So, when you found Minho sitting on the sand later that night, sitting in front of the ocean, basking in the moonlight, you take the opportunity to approach him.

You silently sit next to him, and he looks at you, following your movements. You pull something out of your pocket, lightly shaking the small box that he immediately recognises as a deck of cards.

"Fancy a game?" He scoffs, turning to face you.

"Only if you actually talk to me."

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"What's worth knowing?"

"Ah, well, that depends on what you deem important."

You fall into a surprisingly natural conversation with him. Both of you actually laughing at some of the things you tell him and the dumb stories from the Right Arm. You also somehow manage to finally win a game of Black Jack, much to Minho's dismay.

"So," you shuffle, brushing some of the sand off of one of your cards, "you still wanna be friends?" Originally, you said this jokingly, but Minho's hesitation makes you nervous.

"Not really," he says after a beat, and your heart sinks. "Shuck it," he laughs, "maybe I really do have, what was it? Stockholme Sydrome? Whatever. It sounds so dumb, but even if we were kinda stuck... I don't think I would've survived back there if it wasn't for you."

He seems almost flustered. "I don't know if my head's shucked or what, but is it really that weird to have a little crush on a kind girl in a mask?"

"No," you let out a content sigh, more satisfied with his strange confession than you expected, "but maybe you should talk to someone about that."

He playfully kicks you, making you feign an injury. "Yanno, I'd be lying if I said I didn't start kinda liking you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah- which is probably bad because we had a very unbalanced power dynamic." He snorts at this, shaking his head.

"So, what now?"

"Well, what do you wanna do now?"

He shrugs, leaning forward and picking up another card. "I don't think I want to do anything. I think I need to understand you more, and process everything I've been through. Everything I've lost. I mean, there's no rush, right?"

"Yeah. There's no rush," you nod. "For the first time ever, we actually have time to wait."

"You're willing to wait for me?"

"'Course I am. I've got to help run this place and work out my own shit too. I've got enough going on to distract me from pining over you." You exaggerate your tone, making him roll his eyes. "Seriously, take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

○ ○ ○

"You reckon they'll be okay?" Thomas asks Vince as the pair watch the both of you from a distance. Thomas smiles faintly as he watches you flick sand at Minho over losing whatever game you're playing.

"Yeah," Vince replies, finally peacefully watching the closest thing he has to family enjoy herself. "Maybe not now, but that's fine- they have all the time in the world to be okay."

Oh my God, this took me forever. But, I've got no other requests at the moment so I figured go big or go home. Seriously, this was such a cool idea and I loved writing it. Pieces like these take literal days to write, so don't be expecting them too often, but I do love more complex and indepth stories.

Also, I am so down to do a part 2 to this if you guys want to see more of yours and Minho's relationship in the Safe Haven- maybe some more developing relationship stuff, or even some spice if that is want y'all want.

Anyway, I just know no one is gonna see all of this because it's just so LONG. Literally, this thing is so big my Tumblr is lagging. But still, I hope you enjoyed :))

#🌿 petri tmr minho #🌿 petri writes tmr #🌿 petri writes #🍃 petri tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr minho #minho the maze runner #minho tmr #minho tmr x reader #tmr imagines #minho maze runner

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mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 2 years

Text

All Too Well // Eddie Munson

request: none

prompts: none

summary: when you started dating eddie, it was the happiest time of your life. but as time went on, eddie started acting different. and the bond between the two of you suffered because of it.

warnings: language, mentions of drinking and drugs, mentions of drug addiction and substance abuse, chrissy’s eating disorder is mentioned briefly, self image issues, allusions to smut, eddie being an asshole, crying, hints at cheating, and a whole lotta heartbreak

word count: 11.6k

a/n: very off character for eddie, does not follow the plot of season four at all, starcourt didn’t burn down, gn!reader, i know it says he’s an asshole in the warnings but he’s not like that the whole time! there’s also no spoilers for season four!

this is the longest fic i’ve ever written, and i’m so incredibly proud of it! i hope you enjoy it!! :)

I walked through the door with you, the air was cold

But something 'bout it felt like home somehow

And I left my scarf there at your sister's house

And you've still got it in your drawer, even now

“Come on! Hurry up!” you called behind you as you ran towards Eddie’s trailer.

The two of you had thought it would be fun to go ice skating on Lover’s Lake, but the gentle snowfall soon grew heavier, and the thought of staying outside any longer made you feel like you were going to develop frostbite. Of course you both had the bright idea to walk to the lake, and now had to run back to Eddie’s trailer for shelter.

Your lungs burned, and your cheeks and the tip of your nose were going numb, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Though the date hadn’t been what you had planned, having to watch Eddie struggle to run in the snow was quite amusing. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t struggle either.

When he finally caught up to you, Eddie unlocked the door and you both pushed inside, feeling the warmth of the trailer against your near frozen skin.

“It’s really coming down out there. I’m not sure you’ll be able to get home tonight,” Eddie said as he peeked through the blinds on the window.

You simply smiled as you pulled your scarf off, tossing it away not noticing nor caring where it went, you could always find it later.

“So, impromptu sleepover?” you asked, giggles breaking in through your words.

Eddie ran over to you and tackled you in a hug, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You hissed at how cold his lips were, but you didn’t pull away.

“I like the way you think! I’ll make hot cocoa. Why don’t you pick out some movies?”

You nodded, a bright smile ever present on your face, and walked over to the stacks of VHS tapes scattered around the television. Excitedly, you searched through them, finding some of your favorites, and grabbing some of Eddie’s too.

Tonight was gonna be amazing.

Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze

We're singing in the car, getting lost upstate

Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place

And I can picture it after all these days

“Oh my god, I love this song!” you said as you cranked up the volume on Eddie’s car radio.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he turned to look at you, feeling a smile begin to grow on his face.

“You like Metallica?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah! You never shut up about them, so I figured I might as well listen to them. Now I get it though, they’re really good!”

“And just when I thought you couldn’t get any more perfect!”

You laughed at his statement before turning your attention back to the radio. You didn’t know all the words, considering you had only heard the song a few times before. You tried your best to sing along, mumbling whenever you didn’t know the words.

Eddie smiled over at you, and soon enough he began singing along with you. Neither of you sounded any good, but you didn’t care. It was the most fun you’d had all day, having been stuck in a car heading to who knows where. Eddie said he wanted to go on a road trip without a destination. And while that seemed like a perfectly good way to get lost, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no given how excited he was.

When the song finally ended, you didn’t want to stop singing along. Eddie knew all the words to the next song, but you, having never heard it before, made up your own words, much to Eddie’s amusement.

“Making your own remix I see,” he said in between laughs.

“Damn right. It��s the new and improved version.”

“Well I wouldn’t say improved.”

“Excuse me?” You turned to face him, face growing hot with laughter.

The rest of the car ride was filled with awful singing, terrible jokes, and fits of never ending laugh that made both of your sides hurt.

And I know it's long gone and

That magic's not here no more

And I might be okay, but I'm not fine at all

You sat at a table at Scoops Ahoy, impatiently tapping your fingers against the surface. You and Eddie were supposed to meet for an ice cream date almost an hour ago, but he was nowhere to be seen. You had just about given up hope, and were debating on whether or not to just go home, when you finally saw Eddie walking towards you.

“Where were you?” you asked him as he sat down next to you.

“What do you mean?”

“You were supposed to be here an hour ago! I was just about to leave,” you replied, hurt evident on your face.

“But I thought you said we were meeting at four?”

“Eddie, it's almost five.”

“Is it?” He checked his watch, and sure enough it read 4:57. “I’m sorry sweetheart, Hellfire ran long again, guess I just didn’t realize what time it was.”

You sighed and nodded. This is the third time this month he’d been late. It was starting to feel as if he’d rather be with his friends than with you. You didn’t mind it when he hung out with other people, but this was supposed to be your time together. And he kept spending it with people who weren’t you. It felt like he was starting to not care as much anymore.

'Cause there we are again on that little town street

You almost ran the red 'cause you were looking' over at me

Wind in my hair, I was there

I remember it all too well

“Eddie stop!” you yelled at him, jerking his attention back to the road.

Eddie quickly slammed on the breaks, stopping the car before running through the red light. Your eyes were wide as you looked ahead at the cars crossing through the intersection. You turned to look over at Eddie, only to find him looking at you with a slightly amused expression.

“Why didn’t you stop?” you asked, shoving his shoulder playfully.

“I was looking at something much more interesting than the road,” he retorted.

You felt your face grow hot when you realized what he was referring to.

“You can ogle me later Eddie! I’d really prefer to not get into a crash,” you replied, feeling laughter bubble up in your throat despite yourself.

“Fine, fine, fine! I’ll pay attention to the road,” he jokingly grumbled.

You laughed once more and leaned over to rest your head on his shoulder. You looked up at him, smiling.

“I love you, you dork.”

You kept your gaze on him, waiting for any sort of reaction. But he simply kissed your forehead without looking down at you. Even though you were the one who told him to keep his eyes on the road, it left you feeling a little deflated. You brushed it off, telling yourself that he must not have heard you. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that kept thinking otherwise.

Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red

You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed

And your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee-ball team

You told me 'bout your past, thinking your future was me

“Eddie, guess what I found?” Eddie’s uncle said as he walked towards the couch you and Eddie were sitting on.

In his hand he held a book that sort of looked like a photo album. Eddie groaned and buried his face in his hands, seeming to recognize it instantly. His reaction only made you even more intrigued in the book, and its contents.

“What is it?” you asked, turning to Eddie.

He didn’t answer you, and instead continued to grumble into his hands.

“It’s his baby photos,” Mr. Munson said teasingly as he sat down next to you on the couch.

“Ooooh! I wanna see,” you said, excitement filling you at the thought of seeing how adorable Eddie looked as a baby.

“No, please don’t,” he whined, finally looking over at you and his uncle.

“Too late,” you replied with a smirk on your face.

Mr. Munson handed you the album, and you pulled in open, looking over all the photos. Your smile only grew wider as you took in all the adorableness. There was a photo of Eddie covered in spaghetti, having thrown it everywhere instead of actually eating it. Another one was of him in the bathtub with a beard made out of bubbles.

“Oh my god, you were so cute!” You giggled as you elbowed Eddie in the side.

His cheeks grew red at your words, and he desperately tried to pull the photo album out of your hands, but you moved it away and continued flipping through it, watching as he grew older in the photos.

“Ohhh, so this was the infamous buzzcut era,” you joked as you saw Eddie’s eighth grade yearbook photo.

Eddie only continued grumbling and pouting as you and Wayne continued flipping through the pictures, and continuing to poke fun at Eddie the whole time.

And you were tossing me the car keys, "Fuck the patriarchy"

Key chain on the ground, we were always skipping town

And I was thinking on the drive down, any time now

He's gonna say it's love, you never called it what it was

“Eddie, can we talk?” you asked, turning to look over at him.

He kept his gaze on the road, but nodded to let you know he was listening.

You paused for a second, debating whether or not to go through with what you wanted to say.

“How come you never say you love me?”

You could feel the tension in the car grow as soon as the words left your mouth. Eddie still never looked over to you, but you noticed his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“What do you mean?”

You sighed to yourself before continuing, “I’ve been saying that I love you for a few months now, but you’ve never once said it back. I used to think you just kept not hearing me, but I know you have. You’ve heard it every time. Why don’t you say it back? Do you not love me?” Your voice broke as you finished speaking, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s all you have to say? Eddie, how can you not know whether or not you love me? We’ve been together for almost a year! Do you really not feel anything?”

“What do you want from me y/n? I said I don’t know! Can’t you give me some time to figure out my feelings?”

“I’ve given you time! I’ve given you months! Ever since I first told you that I loved you, I waited and waited for you to finally say it back! But you never do! And it hurts Eddie. It hurts so much.”

“Well I’m sorry that it hurts you, but I can’t just wake up and suddenly decide that I love you!”

His words were the last straw, and your tears finally spilled over. You reached up and tried to hurriedly wipe them away, not wanting to make a big deal out of them.

“Well if you don’t love me then why are we even together?” you shouted, all your pain and hurt bubbling up to your surface and spilling over.

“I don’t know,” he said sadly.

You looked out the window, not wanting to see him right now. Even though neither of you confirmed it, you could just feel that it was over. And you brought it upon yourself. If only you had just stayed quiet, and waited. Maybe things would’ve been better. But here you were, sobbing your heart out on a road in the middle of nowhere, stuck in a car with Eddie. When all you wanted to was be back home in your bed, away from him.

'Til we were dead and gone and buried

Check the pulse and come back swearing it's the same

After three months in the grave

And then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you

But all I felt was shame and you held my lifeless frame

“Y/n, I’m sorry. Please just talk to me. I miss you.”

You stared at your ceiling, listening to the voicemail Eddie had left you. It had been almost a month since you both had called it quits, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even begin to move on. And here he was, calling you up and apologizing. You knew it was never a good idea to get back with your ex, especially considering how things ended. But in the moment, all you could remember were the good moments of your relationship.

Running through the snow together and then spending all night cuddled up together under a mountain of blankets and watching horror movies. Singing along horribly to the radio and making up your own words when you didn’t know them. Looking through his baby photos and calling him adorable just to see him blush.

You couldn’t bring yourself to remember all the times he showed up late, the growing distance between the two of you, the fact that he never once said how he truly felt about you. But in the moment, when you could only remember the good times, you couldn’t find a way to stop yourself from picking up your phone and calling him back. Consequences be damned, you missed Eddie, and you still loved him. And there was no way in hell you’d pass up a chance to get him back.

You sat up and reached for your phone, dialing the number you’ve called so many times. The phone rang a few times, and your heart was pounding so loud you could hear it. Finally the phone was picked up on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“Eddie? It’s me.”

And I know it's long gone and

There was nothing else I could do

And I forget about you long enough

To forget why I needed to

As the weeks went on, you started to remember why things had ended with Eddie.

When you first got back together, things were amazing. You were happy again, and the two of you went back to how you used to be almost immediately. You didn’t care about the heartache he caused, or all the self-loathing thoughts. You finally had him back, and you didn’t want to think about the bad memories ever again.

But soon he started showing up to things late again. He never even acknowledged it, and he just went about as if you hadn’t been waiting for his arrival for over an hour. And he grew more distant again. There were less meaningful conversations, and car rides were spent in silence, except for the low hum of the radio.

You could feel rifts beginning to grow between the two of you, but you didn’t want to acknowledge them. You just wanted to be with Eddie, even if it meant forcing yourself to pretend to be happy. You didn’t realize just how much he was hurting you, because even throughout all the shit he put you through, your relationship still had its good moments. And you decided to blindly follow those moments, pushing down everything he did that hurt you.

'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night

We're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light

Down the stairs, I was there

I remember it all too well

You were sat on the couch in Eddie’s living room, crying. You had just had another meaningless fight, and they were seeming to become more and more common as the time went on. You still loved Eddie, part of you thought you always would, but that didn’t change the fact that it still hurt every time you were caught in a screaming match.

You heard the door to his bedroom open, and you looked up to see Eddie walking towards you. His face held a solemn expression, one similar to the look on yours. Wordlessly, he grabbed your hands and pulled you up and into his embrace.

“Dance with me,” he said, beginning to sway the two of you.

“But there isn’t any music playing.”

“Who cares about that? We can make our own music.”

Eddie began humming a tune you recognized, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly. You did your best to hum along with him as the two of you danced around the living room. Your tears subsided, and you felt yourself relax into his embrace.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” he whispered softly.

“I’m sorry too,” you replied, wrapping your arms around him tighter.

You could feel your sadness melt away, and all you could focus on was Eddie. How his thumbs gently rubbed circles in your back. How he pressed kisses along your hairline, while still humming the song. How his arms tightened around you when you pulled him closer. It’s like he knew exactly how to make you feel better. And even though you were mad at him earlier, you couldn’t be more grateful to be in his embrace.

And there we are again when nobody had to know

You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

Sacred prayer and we'd swear

To remember it all too well, yeah

You were sitting next to Eddie on the couch, the rest of his friends surrounding the two of you. There was some movie that Eddie had finally gotten on VHS and they were all dying to see it. Eddie invited you along too, not wanting you to feel upset since Saturday was usually your date night.

You brushed off your feelings about the change of plans, and focused on how excited Eddie looked. You didn’t even know what the movie you were watching was, nor what it was about, but you didn’t care. You had spent most of the duration of the movie admiring Eddie, and the excitement that flashed across his face throughout the movie.

You slipped your hand over to his, placing it on top and grasping it. But a few moments later, he pulled his hand away. Your heart shattered at the action as you watched him place his hand in his lap, away from you.

You turned away and looked at the ground beneath your feet, willing yourself not to cry. Not here. Not now, in front of everybody. Despite your efforts, you could feel your hot tears begin to fall past your eyes. You blinked hard a few times to push them out before mumbling some excuse and heading towards the bathroom.

Locking the door behind you, you placed your hands on the sink and looked at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were turning red and puffy, silent tears falling freely down your face. He pulled away from you. Despite everything, all of the shit he had put you through, all the fights, everything, never once had he pulled away from you before. Nothing else he had done had hurt as much as this.

You couldn’t stand to look at your reflection anymore, and instead leaned against the door, slowly sliding down until you were crumpled in a ball on the floor. You hugged your knees to your chest, letting yourself sob freely.

Well, maybe we got lost in translation

Maybe I asked for too much

But maybe this thing was a masterpiece

'Til you tore it all up

Running scared, I was there

I remember it all too well

“You pulled away! Why did you pull away from me?”

After all of Eddie’s friends had left, he had finally noticed that you hadn’t returned from the bathroom. He knocked on the door, and when he opened it he could tell that you were crying. He asked why, and your feelings exploded out, causing you to yell at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Yes you do! During the movie I grabbed your hand and you pulled away? Why didn’t you want to hold my hand? Did you not want your friends to see it?”

“I don’t know, I just did! Why would I care if they saw us holding hands? They all know we’re dating!”

“Why didn’t you want to hold my hand?” you asked again, softer this time, tears threatening to fall for a second time that night.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to hold your hand! I just pulled away! Does it really even matter?”

“Yes Eddie, it does matter! You’ve never pulled away from me before! We’re growing apart again!” Tears were streaming down your face at this point, all the pain you had felt earlier that night returning once more.

“I don’t get why you’re making such a big deal out of it! So what if I pulled away? It doesn’t matter! Why do you always have to start fights?”

“Oh, I’m the one starting fights? You never pay attention to me anymore! It’s like I’m not even there! You pick apart every little thing I do! It’s like I’m never good enough for you anymore! You always find something that I’m doing that’s wrong! You always feel the need to fix things that don’t need to be fixed!”

“God, what are you even talking about? Listen to yourself, you’re not making any sense!”

“I can’t do this anymore, Eddie! I’m tired of feeling worthless all the time! I’m tired of you acting like I’m not even there! I’m tired of you starting fights over nothing!”

Eddie fell silent for a moment. You felt hopeful, thinking that maybe, somehow you talked some sense into him. And maybe everything could finally go back to how it used to be. But your new found hope was short lived.

“Fine. If that’s how you really feel, then maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore.”

“Eddie,” you said barely above a whisper, feeling your very being shatter.

He didn’t say anything else, not having anything else to say. You both stood there in silence for a moment, feeling the weight of everything you both had just said crash down on top of you. After a while, it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything to you anymore. You slowly walked over to the door, and turned around to look at him one last time before leaving, but he wasn’t even looking at you.

“Goodbye, Eddie.”

And you call me up again just to break me like a promise

So casually cruel in the name of being honest

I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here

'Cause I remember it all, all, all

“Please let me in. I’m sorry,” Eddie said from the other side of your door.

Your parents had let him into your house, not understanding the way things were left between the two of you. So here Eddie was, standing outside of your bedroom door, begging you to give him another chance.

“Things will be different this time, I promise. Just please, talk to me. I miss you so much. Open the door, please.” His voice broke at the end of his sentence and you could hear muffled cries coming from the other side of your door.

Just the thought of him crying made your heart ache. It hurt to know that you were the reason behind your tears. Which was kinda funny considering how many times he had made you cry. But his pleads and broken sobs only a few feet away from you were beginning to wear down your resolve.

“One last chance,” you thought to yourself.

You stood up from where you were sitting on your bedroom floor and slowly walked over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open. Your heart broke from how miserable he looked. Despite everything he had put you through, it still never failed to hurt when you saw him cry.

Wordlessly you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him flush against you. He wrapped his arms around you as well, tightening his grip as if he were afraid you’d disappear.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m so so sorry,” he muttered to you, still not letting go.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything in return, not wanting to bring yourself out of this moment with him. You had missed his touch, longing for his embrace every single day you were apart. And now that he was finally back in your arms, you never wanted to let go.

They say all's well that ends well, but I'm in a new Hell

Every time you double-cross my mind

You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would have been fine

And that made me want to die

“God, you’re so childish! You’re making a big deal out of nothing!” Eddie yelled as he walked outside, pulling you along behind him.

You pulled your hand away from him at his words, causing him to turn and look at you.

“It wasn’t nothing, Eddie! You’ve been avoiding me all night! I only went to that stupid party because you wanted to! But as soon as we get here, you leave me, and you’ve been doing god knows what since!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what that’s supposed to mean! I saw Chrissy eyeing you up, and then I saw you walk off after her! What else am I supposed to think?”

“I didn’t walk off after her! Jesus Christ, you’re delusional! I should’ve known this was never gonna work,” he mumbled the last sentence to himself, but you still heard him.

You stepped closer to him, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to crying.

“What?” you asked him, barely above a whisper.

“I’m almost 21, and you’re not even 19 yet! Sometimes I just feel like you’re not mature enough to be in a relationship.”

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me Munson! I’m not mature enough? Me? Are you fucking serious right now?”

“See, here you go again! You’re always getting so worked up over nothing!”

“And you never care about anything! You never care about me, or anything I want! It’s always just you! We do what you want to do! We only hang out when you have the time! You never make time for me anymore!”

“So what? Am I not allowed to have friends anymore or something? Is that really what you’re saying?”

“I never said that!” You paused for a second, taking a deep breath, before turning around and heading back inside the house.

“Where are you going?” Eddie called after you.

“I need a drink.”

The idea you had of me, who was she?

A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you

Not weeping in a party bathroom

Some actress asking me what happened, you

That's what happened, you

You stepped inside the bathroom, locking the door behind you. You could hear the cheers of drunk kids and the muffled thumping of the blaring music. You sat on the edge of the bathtub, and soon you felt tears begin to fall down your face.

The words you and Eddie had said replayed in your head. He always seemed to twist everything in his favor. He blamed you for everything, coming up with bullshit excuse after bullshit excuse to push the blame away from him. But his latest one hurt you the most. Your age gap? That’s what he decided to go with?

You would admit that it did feel a little weird to be dating someone almost two years older than you, especially after having just turned 18. But he always said that it wasn’t a big deal, that it was never a problem for him.

“Guess that was a lie,” you whispered to yourself, letting out a sad laugh.

You would spend the rest of the night hiding out in here if you had to, not wanting to face Eddie for a while. You had just barely calmed your tears, but the mere thought of speaking to him again brought them back full force. You heard a knock on the door and tried to quiet your sobs, hurriedly wiping the tears off your face.

“Y/n? You in there?” a voice on the other side of the door said.

You wanted to answer, but couldn’t find enough energy within yourself to do so. After a few moments, the voice spoke again.

“It’s Robin. Are you ok?”

Slowly you stood up and unlocked the door, feeling relief wash over you at the sight of your best friend. She stepped inside the bathroom and locked the door behind her. When she turned back to face you, you immediately pulled her into a hug, and began sobbing again.

“What happened? Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, gently rubbing you back as your sobs continued to wrack through you.

“Ed-Eddie,” you mumbled out through your sobs, struggling to say anything else through the force of your tears.

But the one word was enough of an answer for Robin. She knew everything he had put you through, having witnessed most of the fallout first hand. She didn’t try to get you to say anything else, knowing it would only make you cry harder. So she stood there with you, holding you close.

She wanted to tell you to leave him, to dump Eddie and stop going back to him. Find someone who cared about you, someone who loved you. Really loved you. But she couldn’t bring herself to say any of that right now. You were already so upset, and she didn’t want to make it worse. She was going to have to wait. One day she would get through to you, and convince you to leave Eddie for good. But that day wasn’t going to be today.

You who charmed my dad with self-effacing jokes

Sipping coffee like you're on a late-night show

But then he watched me watch the front door all night, willing you to come

And he said, "It's supposed to be fun turning twenty-one"

It was finally your 19th birthday. You were so excited, giddy from the thought of getting to see all your friends again. It had been a while since all of you were together in one place since you had all graduated.

The day was going absolutely perfect. You went to the movies with Steve, Robin, and Nancy, and the four of you had spent the rest of the day at the mall. Every time you suggested returning to your house, they pointed out another store, or some kiosk they wanted to stop at. You had a feeling they were stalling you, especially since your parents loved throwing you surprise parties. But you played along blindly, wanting to humor them.

By the time you had all headed back to Steve’s car, you had more shopping bags than you could carry. You, Nancy, and Robin decided to pile all of your bags on top of Steve, finding it absolutely hilarious when he struggled to carry them all.

After packing all of the bags into Steve’s trunk, you all piled back into his car. Steve was always a careful driver, but this was just insane. He was driving so slow, you were pretty sure that if you got out and walked you would arrive at your house first. But no one else seemed to notice, or at least they didn’t say anything about it. You figured that he was stalling again, so you decided that you wouldn’t mention it. If they really were going through all this trouble for you, the least you could do would be to not complain about it.

Almost an hour after having left the mall, Steve pulled up to your house. There were a suspicious number of cars lining the street, and all the lights in your house were turned off. Your suspicions had been right. You smiled to yourself as you hopped out of the car and walked towards Steve’s trunk to grab your bags.

“We can grab those later, let’s just head inside. Alright?” Steve asked, trying and failing to not look like he was up to something.

You nodded and followed the three of them to your front door. You put the key in the lock and turned it, pushing open the door. And just like you had thought, the lights turned on and at least twenty people jumped out and yelled, “Surprise!”

You faked as much surprise as you could muster, pretending like you didn’t have this whole thing figured out hours ago. You were pretty sure everyone knew that you knew, but if they didn’t want to mention it then neither would you.

You looked around at everyone there, feeling your smile grow wider as you saw family members and friends from high school, both of which you hadn’t seen in a while. But there was one person you didn’t see hanging out amongst the small group of people. And though you were incredibly grateful for everyone who did show, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t hurt that Eddie wasn’t there.

It was as if Robin could read your mind, and she slid up right next to you.

“He said he was just going to be a little late. I’m sure he’ll come,” she said, trying to be hopeful.

You nodded, trying to believe what she had said. But as the time went on, and the party was slowly winding down, you could feel yourself losing hope. Even when you were blowing out your birthday candles, your eyes were locked to the front door, wishing that Eddie would show up.

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it

I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it

After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own

Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone

It had been almost a week since you and Eddie had broken up for the third time. And you were serious when you told yourself that you wouldn’t be giving him any more chances. You had barely left your room at all that week, not having the energy to even get out of bed some days.

You and Eddie had been together for almost two years, and now it was just over. He was the biggest chapter of your life, but now you had to start anew. And you didn’t have a clue where to start. You were so lost without him. It was like everything made you think of him and the time you had spent together.

But you knew that laying in bed mourning wouldn’t do you any good in moving on. If you really wanted to get over him, you would have to get rid of everything that reminded you of him. Which turned out to be harder than you had thought.

You grabbed an empty cardboard box from the garage and brought it back to your room. And then you got to work. You decided to start in your closet, digging through your clothes and finding everything that was Eddie’s. You found one of his leather jackets, his hellfire shirt, and a countless number of band shirts you had stolen during your many sleepovers. You folded all the clothes up and placed them in the box.

Then you turned your attention to your vanity. Stuck on your mirror was a photo booth strip from one of your first dates with Eddie. You smiled sadly as you gazed upon it, feeling both nostalgia and pain wash over you. You set it down, and you glanced over to the small box that sat upon your vanity. Pulling it open, you found numerous polaroids that you and Eddie had taken together. There were some from different dates you had gone on, candids you had sneakily taken of each other, photos from your sleepovers and the pillow forts you had made, and even a few dirty ones that Eddie had suggested the two of you take. Your stomach fluttered a bit when you saw them, but you pushed the feeling away.

You took all of the polaroids out of the box and picked up the photo booth strip again, tossing all the photos in the box on top of his clothes. You now found yourself standing in front of your dresser. A few framed photos of you and Eddie scattered the surface, and the sight of how happy you used to be only made your heart break even more. You turned the frames facedown and stacked them to one side of your dresser.

Your attention then turned to your jewelry stand that stood on your dresser. With shaky hands you reached for the guitar pick necklace Eddie had gifted you. He saw you admiring his own, so he made you a matching one. You used to wear that necklace everyday, but you had barely even touched it in the past few months. You picked it up, along with the locket Eddie had gifted you that had his initials on it and held a picture of the two of you inside. The bottom of your jewelry stand had a ring tray, but only one ring sat upon it. Eddie’s skull ring. You had loved to fiddle with his rings, so one day he slipped one off his hand and onto your own. Just thinking back to that moment had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You grabbed the jewelry and picture frames, placing them both in the box.

You spent the next hour digging around in your room, finding everything that either belonged to Eddie or had a memory with him attached to it. You were about to put the lid on the box when you turned to look at your bed. On top of your pillow was the teddy bear Eddie had won you on your very first date. It was the fourth of July fair the town had thrown, and that night held some of the greatest memories you’ve ever had. You and Eddie had spent the whole night wandering around, playing games, going on rides, and stuffing yourselves full of junk food. He had even kissed you for the first time on top of the ferris wheel.

You picked up Mr. Snuggles and hugged him tightly one last time, before placing him in the box. You picked up the lid and admired the contents of the box one last time. His clothes, the jewelry, all the photos, every single love letter and note he had written you, every gift he had ever given you, and now, Mr. Snuggles. Sighing to yourself, you placed the lid on the box, and carried it out of your room. You had gone through all the trouble of packing everything up, you might as well go and give it to him.

When you stepped outside of your front door, you saw a package sitting by the doorstep. You placed the box you were holding back down inside your house and picked up the package. It was addressed to you, but there wasn’t a return address. Curious, you carried it back to your room and sat on your bed, opening it.

Your heart broke even more, if that was even possible, when you saw the contents of the box. It looked like Eddie had the same idea that you did, but he didn’t even have the decency to deliver it to you himself, he had decided to mail it.

You carefully pulled the contents of the box out, feeling memory after memory resurface. Most of the box contained your clothes, since you had a tendency to forget something every time you slept over. There was also your old hairbrush, a package of your makeup wipes, one of your old perfume bottles, and some of your makeup that you thought you had lost.

You thought that was everything, but something shined slightly along the edge of the box. You turned it around and saw the Metallica record you had gotten Eddie last year for Christmas. You waited all night outside a record store to get a signed copy for him. He was so happy when he saw you had gotten him a Metallica record, but he absolutely lost it when he saw that it was autographed. But the fact that he just gave it back to you? It made you feel like you had done all of that for nothing.

He had claimed it was his most prized possession, but yet he had given it back. And for some reason, that’s what confirmed it for you. That you and Eddie were really over. Part of you had always hoped that maybe he’d come back to you, having really changed. But that sliver of hope you had held on to was gone now. And the reality of it all finally sunk in. You and Eddie were over. For good. And nothing was ever going to change that.

But you keep my old scarf from that very first week

'Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me

You can't get rid of it

'Cause you remember it all too well, yeah

You walked into Starcourt, feeling extremely excited. It was only a few days into November, but you were already doing some Christmas shopping. You had been brainstorming the perfect gifts for everyone for the past few months, taking note of anytime they said they wanted something. And now here you were, buying the perfect presents for your friends.

Giving people gifts was your absolute favorite part of the holiday. And so what if Christmas was well over a month away? You couldn’t bring yourself to wait any longer, not wanting to risk running out of time. You looked at all the stores surrounding you, trying to decide which one to enter first. You had a list of what you were going to get everyone in hand, and were trying to figure out which store you should go into first, when you saw him.

Eddie Munson.

You hadn’t seen him since your final breakup last summer, but here he was. Hanging out in the food court with Jeff and Gareth. You couldn’t help but stare for a minute, just overwhelmed with all the feelings of suddenly seeing him again. Gareth looked up and saw you, waving before turning his attention back to the conversation he was having with Eddie and Jeff.

You waved back and began to walk away, grateful Eddie didn’t turn around to see who his friend waved to, when you noticed something. Eddie was wearing a scarf. Which you thought was weird, considering he said he hated the feeling of them. You turned back to look at it once more, and you could almost swear that your heart stopped. The scarf he was wearing was yours. It was the one you had left at his house after getting snowed in. The two of you spent hours looking for it, but you never found it.

Now you finally realized why. He had kept it. He had held on to your scarf for two years. Even when you had broken up and returned each other's things, he kept your scarf. He had to have known it was yours, your grandmother had stitched your name into the corner.

You decided it was finally time to walk away, but the whole time you were shopping it never left your mind. Why did he still have your scarf? And why was he still wearing it? But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't think of any answer other than him missing you. You fought the urge to go find him, despite desperately wanting to. Talking to him again would only make things worse. And you couldn’t deal with losing him again.

'Cause there we are again when I loved you so

Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known

It was rare, I was there

I remember it all too well

Seeing Eddie with your scarf had left you shaken up for the rest of the day. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. Even when you got back to your room and collapsed on top of your bed, Eddie was still stuck in your mind. And even though you didn’t want to reminisce about it, your thoughts wandered back to the last conversation you had with Eddie.

“You didn’t show up! You promised me you would be there! I waited all night for you, and you never even called to apologize, or even explain!” you had screamed at him, tears streaming down your face.

It was the day after your 19th birthday, and Eddie decided that it would be a good idea to show up at your house, despite missing the event the day prior.

“God, how many times do I have to apologize! I said I was sorry!”

“But you don’t really mean it! You never do! You’re always late! To everything! But this time you didn’t even show up at all! And the only thing you have to say is sorry?”

“Well what else do you want from me?!”

“I don’t know, an explanation!”

Eddie sighed and shook his head. “No, I’m not dealing with this. The second I tell you, you’re gonna start attacking me all over again. It never ends with you!”

“Where were you?!” you asked him once more, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness bubble up within you.

“I was with Chrissy, alright?! She wanted some weed, so I sold her some. We got to talking, and before I knew it, I had missed your party. There! You happy?”

You froze as the words left his mouth. He missed your birthday party, the one he promised he would attend, because he was with Chrissy?! You could feel the anger within you rise, and you began to shout at him.

“You were with Chrissy?! Are you serious?! You missed my birthday because you were hanging with Chrissy?! God, Eddie! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Eddie went to say something, but you cut him off, wanting to get all of your thoughts out.

“I’ve dealt with this long enough. I’m done with the way you’ve been treating me! You never show up to my things, you never care about my feelings, and you just keep lying straight to my face! I’ve never missed any of your events, your birthdays, anything! I sat through every single Hellfire meeting because I wanted to make you happy! I did everything I could to make you happy! But it was never enough was it?

“All I’ve wanted is for you to be happy. And do you know why? Because I love you Eddie! I’ve loved you since you kissed me at the top of the ferris wheel, and I’ve been falling more and more in love with you every day! And despite all the bullshit you’ve put me through, you’ve never once said it back! Not once! Do you even know how that makes me feel?”

“How can you expect me to say I love you if I don’t?! You can’t just force your feelings onto me, and expect me to feel the same way!”

You paused, all your anger suddenly disappearing and being replaced with the most heartbreaking sadness you’ve ever felt

“You don’t love me?” you asked, your voice falling to barely above a whisper.

Eddie stayed silent, looking past you instead of meeting your eyes.

“Have you ever loved me?” you asked again.

But as the seconds went by and Eddie remained silent, you got your answer.

“Fine. Well I guess there’s no point being in a relationship with someone who doesn’t feel the same.”

“Are you seriously breaking up with me over this?” Eddie asked, scoffing slightly.

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

You brought your hands up to wipe the tears off of your face. Reliving the memory brought back all of the feelings along with it. You thought you were over it, over him. But you were wrong. He had left an imprint on you that was much deeper than you had thought it was. And there was a part of you that had begun to think that you might never truly get over him. You would just soon be able to live with the pain.

Wind in my hair, you were there

You remember it all

Down the stairs, you were there

You remember it all

It was rare, I was there

I remember it all too well

Eddie laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. You were there. You were right there, and he didn’t even get to see you.

When he saw Gareth waving to someone from behind him, he went to turn around but Jeff told him not to. Once you had walked away, they told him that you were there. Eddie knew they were just trying to protect him, but he still wished that he could’ve seen you.

He just wanted to see you again, to apologize for everything. He had been such an asshole. A few months into your relationship, Eddie decided he wanted to try something harder than weed. He talked a big game to his customers, but he’d actually never done anything other than smoke. But unfortunately, once he started, he couldn’t get himself to stop.

The majority of the rest of your relationship was spent with him being high out of his mind. He didn’t want to tell you what he was really doing, so when he showed up late he tried to brush it off. And he had a tendency to be more defensive than usual when he was high, so anytime you confronted him, it turned into a fight.

He wanted to stop, truly he did. But it was just so hard. He had begun pulling away from you, figuring that keeping you at an arm’s length would be safer for the both of you. But he had only ended up hurting you in the process.

Chrissy knew about his problems, and had offered to help. She had gotten over bulimia, and while being “addicted” to vomiting wasn’t the same as a drug addiction, she wanted to try to help him anyways. Eddie had been trying to get clean for you before your birthday, but that night he had really bad withdrawal symptoms. He spent the whole night with Chrissy, struggling through them, only to have you dump him the next day, which made him relapse.

He never said “I love you” either, even though he did. He loved you so much. But he was just scared. Saying the words would make everything real, and if he fucked up something real it would only hurt him even more. Only now does he realize how fucked up it was to never say it back, especially after having been together for almost two years.

He had ruined everything, and all because he was scared. He was too scared to come to you for help. He was too scared to admit his feelings. And he was too scared to tell you the truth. But none of that mattered anyways. It was too late now. And you were gone, for good.

And I was never good at telling jokes, but the punch line goes

"I'll get older, but your lovers stay my age"

From when your Brooklyn broke my skin and bones

I'm a soldier who's returning half her weight

Only a few days after you saw Eddie at the mall, you saw him again. This time he was just walking past you on the sidewalk. But he wasn’t alone. Chrissy was walking right beside him, and the sight of them together broke your heart.

You had alway thought that maybe he had been cheating on you with her. And who would even blame him? Chrissy was so much prettier than you were. She was well liked, confident, and gorgeous. She was cheer captain in high school for crying out loud. Of course Eddie would rather be with her than with you.

Hurriedly, you walked past them, not wanting to witness the two of them together anymore. You had walked away so fast you hadn’t noticed that Eddie was still wearing your scarf. Or that he looked so happy to just see you. You hadn’t noticed the hopeful look that crossed Chrissy’s face when she saw you walking towards them. She grabbed Eddie’s arm and was trying to convince him to talk to you, when you blew right past them.

Eddie’s face fell as he turned around and watched you walk away. He didn’t even want another chance. He just wanted to apologize. He wanted to explain himself. He was almost two weeks clean, which was a new record for him, and was finally feeling ready to talk to you about it. But you were already gone.

“It’s alright Eddie, you’ll get another chance,” Chrissy said, trying to be positive.

Chrissy’s optimism was one of the things that really helped him overcome his addiction. No matter how many times he messed up and relapsed, she never gave up hope in him. But now her optimism was only bringing him down. Would he get another chance to talk to you? Would you even let him talk to you? What would he even say? He had so much to apologize for, he didn’t even know where to begin. But from the way things were looking, now he might never even get the chance.

And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue?

Just between us, did the love affair maim you, too?

Eddie sat on his bedroom floor, his back pressed against the wall as he clutched your scarf in his hands. He held it close to him as tears began to fall down his face. The way you had looked at him earlier that day, that mix of sadness and betrayal, it wouldn’t leave his mind. All he could see was the pain on your face. And it hurt him even more to know he was the one who caused that.

He missed you so much. So much so that it physically hurt him. Some nights he couldn’t even sleep in his bed because it made him think of you. You had made so many memories with him inside his bedroom walls, and everytime he stepped foot into his room, he remembered them all.

The time he had tried to teach you how to play guitar, but you had made no progress since the both of you couldn’t stop laughing. The first time you had made a pillow fort on this bed, and the second time, and the third, and the fourth, and the fifth. Countless mornings spent tangled together, just soaking up each other’s presence. And all the intimate moments you had shared on this very bed. He remembered all of it. Everywhere he looked brought up a different memory of you. He couldn’t escape it, and despite how much it hurt, he didn’t want to. He was grateful for the memories, because even though you were gone, he could still relive all the happy moments he had with you, even if it was only in his head.

All he wanted was another chance. But he knew he could never put you through that. He had already hurt you so much, and he didn’t want to risk doing it again. Even if he was clean now, he knew getting back with you was a bad idea. He didn’t want to risk relapsing and hurting you again, and he didn’t want to have to drag you back into the mess he called his life.

So he would just have to learn how to live without you. Even though he knew it wouldn’t be possible. He could survive without you, sure. But he would never be able to live. Not when you were the only person who ever truly made him feel alive.

'Cause in this city's barren cold

I still remember the first fall of snow

And how it glistened as it fell

I remember it all too well

You sat on your bed, staring out of your window and watching as the snow fell to the ground. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the time you and Eddie spent all day outside in the snow before getting snowed in at his trailer. That was still one of the best days of your life.

You taught him how to ice skate, and even though he was still horrible at it by the end of your lessons, he was at least falling over a lot less. You had decided that you wanted to make a snowman, and you had challenged Eddie to a snowman building contest. But just as you were about to finish your snowman, a snowball hit your back.

You turned around to find Eddie facing the other direction, attempting to look busy, but you saw right through him. You quickly made a snowball and chucked it at him. You had both forgotten about the snowmen you were building, and ended up having the most epic snowball fight of your life. And you had won of course. He claimed that he let you win, but you knew the truth.

When you laid on the ground to make a snow angel, the snow soon began to fall harder, and the wind picked up. You and Eddie grabbed your things and took off running for his trailer, not wanting to get caught outside in the snowstorm. After you finally got back, and changed into some of his pajamas, Eddie handed you some hot cocoa and then you spent the rest of the night watching movies, cuddled together on the couch, until you both fell asleep.

Even now, two years later, every time you saw snow you couldn’t help but think of that day. Looking back on the memory, you felt yourself smiling. Maybe your relationship with Eddie wasn’t all bad.

Just between us, did the love affair maim you all too well?

Just between us, do you remember it all too well?

Just between us, I remember it all too well

“Ok, so you don’t want to talk to them?” Chrissy asked, looking at Eddie from across the picnic table.

Eddie nodded.

“But you still want to apologize?”

“Yep,” Eddie replied.

He was beginning to feel hopeless. He knew you would never talk to him again, but he still wanted to apologize. He felt like he owed it to you. A proper apology for all the bullshit that he put you through. But he had no idea where to start. So he called Chrissy and asked her to meet him at the picnic table in the woods.

They spent the first half an hour just trying to figure out what he should say, when he said that doing it face to face wouldn’t be the best idea.

“Hmm,” Chrissy thought, tapping her figure against her chin. “What about calling them?”

“It’s the same thing. They’d hang up before I could even get two words out. This is hopeless!”

Eddie sighed, and put his head down on his arms which were folded up on the table. Chrissy stayed silent for a minute, pondering another way he could apologize and actually get you to hear him out.

“Not necessarily. I think I have an idea! Come on!” Chrissy stood up and walked to the other side of the table, pulling Eddie up as well.

“Where are we going?” he grumbled, following her as she dragged him through the woods.

“Back to your trailer. I think I finally figured something out!”

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, you remember it all too well

“Do you really think it’s gonna work?” Eddie asked, looking up at Chrissy who was standing beside him.

Eddie sat at the kitchen table, his notebook open in front of him, and holding a pen in his hand. Chrissy had suggested that he write you a letter. That way he could say everything he wanted to say, and if he didn’t sign it until the end, then hopefully you would read it instead of throwing it away immediately.

“Yeah, I do! And besides, what’s the worst that could happen? They don’t read it? Then we try something else! They deserve an apology, and I know you really want to give one to them. I’m not going to give up that easily, and I’m not going to let you either!”

Eddie smiled at Chrissy’s words. It had been a while since he’d had a friend this dedicated to helping him. Sure he had Jeff and Gareth, but when he told them about having been dumped by you for the final time, they just said that it sucked and that they’d help him move on. Which sure, that was nice and all, but Chrissy wanted to help him make things right. And that meant so much to him.

So he began to write. First he just wrote down everything he needed to apologize for, wanting to make sure that he didn’t forget to include anything in his letter. By the time he had finished, the list was very long. But he didn’t want to leave anything out. He wanted to apologize for all of it. Then he began to draft. He had written ten letters already, deciding that each one wasn’t good enough.

“It’s ok. You got this Eddie,” Chrissy reassured him.

Eddie flipped to the next blank page and began writing once more. He made sure he apologized for everything that he needed to, but he didn’t stop there. He came clean about everything. About his struggles, his feelings, and why he had begun to pull away from you. He knew he didn’t deserve another chance with you, but he still wanted you to know how he really felt.

When he had finally finished, the letter was almost three pages front and back. It was a lot longer than he had expected it to be, but that didn’t matter. He had said everything he needed to say and then some. Now he just hoped that you’d read it.

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, you remember it

Eddie and Chrissy walked to your house, which wasn’t that far from the trailer park. Memories of the last time Eddie had been there played in the back of his mind. He could feel his heart pounding as he got closer to your front door. Chrissy stayed at the end of your driveway, wanting to let Eddie do this by himself.

His hands were shaking as he arrived in front of your door. Anxiously, he turned around to look at Chrissy, who nodded encouragingly, and gave him a thumbs up. Eddie took a deep breath in as he turned to face your front door once more. He placed the letter on the ground right in front of the door, and then he rang the bell. He quickly ran back down the driveway, and he and Chrissy hid behind a car that was parked on the side of the road, watching the front door and hoping that you would get the letter.

Only a few moments later, your front door opened to reveal you standing behind it. You looked around outside, a bit confused, before your gaze fell to the letter on the ground. You picked it up and saw your name written on the envelope. There wasn’t any address or stamp, so you figured that whoever had written this had hand delivered it.

You went back inside, letter in your hand, and walked towards your bedroom. After sitting down on your bed, you stared at the envelope in your hands for a good few minutes. Something about the whole thing seemed strange to you. Like whoever had written you this letter had deemed it so important, that not even the post office could be trusted with it.

You had half a mind to throw it out, not wanting to bother reading a letter from some stranger. But your curiosity got the better of you, and you pulled the letter out. You unfolded it and saw that it was three pages long.

Before you could even read it, you recognized the handwriting. It was Eddie’s. You felt like you should’ve just thrown it out, not wanting to bother hearing anything that he had to say. But that fact that the letter was both hand written and hand delivered made you realize that it might actually be important. So you began reading.

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, you remember it

Dear y/n,

I know sorry doesn’t even begin to cut it. Especially after everything that I’ve done to you. To us. But I just had to apologize. For everything. Or at least everything that I can remember. I’m sure that there’s more that I don’t, but I’m sorry for all of that too.

I’m sorry for being late all the time. I’m sorry for not showing up to any of your things, but still expecting you to show up to mine. I’m sorry for all the times that I’ve lied, and all the times that I’ve made you feel crazy because of that. I’m sorry for leaving you alone at parties, without giving you the real reasons why. I’m sorry for pulling away from you, emotionally and physically. I’m sorry for all the fights. I’m sorry for all the times that I’ve made you cry. I’m sorry for every single time that I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry for never telling you the truth. And I’m sorry for never saying I love you.

That’s my biggest regret. Never getting to tell you how I truly felt, because I was just too scared to say it. But I do love you y/n. I love you more than anything or anyone in this world. I love you so much it scares me. That’s why I never said it back. I was scared that if I said how I felt, then you would suddenly wake up and realize you didn’t want me anymore. And I knew that saying how I felt would only make it hurt that much more if we broke up. Well look where that got me, huh?

And I’m sorry for never telling you why I was acting the way I was. I was too scared to go to you for help, so I went to Chrissy instead. That’s why I left you alone at that party when I followed her off, and that’s why I missed your birthday party. The truth is, I was struggling. A few months after we started dating, I started doing more than just weed. And I got addicted. It was really bad. I didn’t realize it then, but being high all the time turned me into such an asshole. And you didn’t deserve that.

I tried to get clean before your birthday, but the night off I was going through horrible withdrawal symptoms. Chrissy came over and helped me. And I went over to your place to apologize the next day, but I was too scared to tell you the truth. And then you ended things. I relapsed again after that, but then I realized that it would never make me feel better. Drugs are what ruined everything in the first place.

I finally got clean after that. And I haven’t relapsed since. I wanted to apologize to you when you were walking past Chrissy and I, but you walked off so fast. And I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.

This was the only way that I could think of to apologize without you running away. Well technically Chrissy thought of it, but I wrote the letter so that has to count for something!

I’m not asking you for another chance. I don’t deserve that. And you definitely don’t deserve having to put up with my shit again. I just needed to apologize. For everything. I know I hurt you so many times, and that’s one of my biggest regrets. I never wanted to hurt you. But I did, and know I have to live with that. But I just hope that this makes things better. Even if you never want to talk to me again, that’s fine. I just need you to know how sorry I truly am.

I hope you have a great life, y/n. I hope you find someone who loves you, and treats you better than I ever did. I hope that you find real happiness, and that no one ever hurts you like I did. Because you deserve so much better than that. You deserve the world and more! And I hope you find someone who can give it to you.

I’ll always love you, y/n. I always have and I always will.

Love, Eddie

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, you remember it all too well

1K notes · View notes

makeyoumine69 · 1 year

Note

Hello! Congratulations on 200!! Can you do knife play and rough sex please? <33333

Thrill

● Pairing: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

● Summary: Patrick takes you to his family vacation house.

● CW: Knife play in its truest sense(!), hard prone sex, oral (f&m), possessive behaviour, Patrick has a filthy mouth and some more.

● Wordcount: ~4.1k (I know I am terrible! 🙈)

● A/N: So, this is the longest thing I ever wrote about Patrick. Thank you so much for this ask! I hope you like it!🥰

Also, I want to thank @ladyalexandranna @jacktorrancekinny @sosweetcupcake for brainstorming with me over this fic!💗

● Useful links: │BWC Masterlist│ │Main Masterlist│

It was the longest day that you thought would never end as you were in the middle of a party in Patrick’s friend's fancy vacation house; his name was Timothy Bryce, as you could remember and he was the only interesting person Bateman knew, besides you of course.

Drinking another glass of wine, you quickly glanced at a group of people standing close enough to you so you could hear them talking.

“Did you see who Patrick came with?” A good-looking woman asked her dark-haired friend, fumbling the necklace with a finger as she seemed to be anxious.

“Not really. But I am curious about what happened to Evelyn.”

“I heard they broke up… Bateman literally tore her heart into pieces.”

“Ohhh, what a poor thing.” A brunette laminated before she turned her gaze in your direction, looking over your back.

When you were about to spin around and check what was the object of her attention, you bumped into a solid male chest and almost right away, you felt the enveloping scent of expensive masculine perfume.

“Drank too much, sweetie?” Patrick crooned in a cute tone, wrapping your waist in a second.

“N-no, you just showed up so suddenly,” frowning a bit, you shook an empty glass in front of his eyes. “You’re lucky I didn’t stain your suit.”

With a soft chuckle, Bateman pulled you closer to whisper: “Let’s sneak out of here, Sugar.”

“Wasn’t it you who persuaded me to come here?”

“Yeah… I know,” he murmured, tickling your earlobe with his hot breath. “I just want to show you something…”

“What is it?” You rejoined, looking up to find his eyes glowing with an undisguised thrill.

“What an impatient girl…”

“Say what you want to say, Patrick.”

Bateman smirked before he pecked your cheekbone, stroking your shoulders as if he wanted you to relax. “Just wanna take you to a really luxurious house.”

Stunned by his sudden offer, you quickly looked around, tagging a ruthless lock behind your ear. “Your friend won’t be offended?” “I don’t think he will even notice us leaving.”

With a soft smile on your face, you placed a glass on the table nearby as you knew him too well–that was not a suggestion to visit his house; it was a statement, so you didn’t really have a say in that.

After a while, Patrick’s limo was taking you further and further away from Timothy's cottage by the second. Trapped in your thoughts, you pressed your cheek against the cold glass as you were watching the scenery outside the window changing so fast.

“You never told me you have a house…”

“Well,” Patrick gasped, turning in your direction to hold your hand. “It’s my family vacation house where we used to spend a lot of time. But since my parents have divorced, all those days are left in the past.”

“Oh…” biting your lip a bit, you faced him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know…”

“It’s okay, Sugar.” Grinning cocky, he shifted his palm to your hip, moving further to its inner side.

Excited by his unexpectedly frank touch, you covered his palm with yours as you felt yourself getting wetter with each second, but you still had one very pointed question.

“Who is Evelyn?” You asked abruptly, watching his face change into a tense grimace.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just heard someone talking about you two,” you sensed his grip tighten on your hip with your words. “Patrick, you don't have to say it…”

You heard him laughing smugly in response as he hugged your shoulders with his other hand. “Well, if you really want to know,” he got closer to your neck, nuzzling against it a bit. “Evelyn is my ex-fiancée.”

“I got it,” you stated, running your fingers through his perfect hair. “Thank you for… For being honest with me.”

“Of course, (Y/N),” he took you by the chin to lock his brown eyes with yours. “How could I not be open with you? You’re the only person I can really trust.”

Damn Bateman, what a devil–you scoffed to yourself, admitting his amazing ability to play around with all the words he was saying. To be fair, you expected any reaction from him to your question but not this; especially when he pulled you into a sweet kiss, sucking your tongue as you allowed him to.

The rest of the way to the vacation house, you both kept in silence as you pressed your head against his broad chest, playing with the fabric of his fancy coat while Patrick was patting your shoulders and your back. What an unbelievably strange harmony—you concluded, remembering the aphorism about a calm before the storm.

Soon, you arrived at a beautifully constructed house with a large yard, which had a magnificent garden planted. Amazed by the open view, you were looking through the window like a child who saw the snow for the first time.

“(Y/N), are you thinking?” Patrick joked as he already got outside the limo and was waiting for you to follow.

“Sorry, I’m just so fascinated by the beauty of this house,” the fact that you couldn’t hide your emotions made him so proud of himself and you didn’t really mind. “Can’t take my eyes off of it.”

“I bet,” he gave you a hand to help you move out. “I wonder what you will say when we get inside.”

Finally, you stepped on the ground and as a true gentleman, Patrick offered you to walk arm in arm with him and you couldn’t refuse this sweet gesture. A cool breeze was blowing around you as you were walking on a stone path that led to the main door.

As soon as you walked inside the house, Patrick helped you to pull off your coat and asked in a sweet tone: “Sugar, are you cold?”

“No, I’m fine,” you smiled at him before you looked around. “This house is as huge as it looks from the outside!”

“You can say that, huh,” he hugged you from behind, pushing you a bit to move forward. “Let’s proceed to the main area here–the living room.”

Grinning, you were totally tempted to know what the walls of this house had prepared for you. Switching between looking to the left or to the right, you were following Patrick and your heartbeat was rising with each step you made as you couldn't figure out what he was up to yet.

“Well, here we are,” he declared, his extremely masculine voice sounding even deeper. “You can make yourself a small tour of the house, while I’m setting up some things.”

“Which things?”

“Find us a drink, for example,” Patrick chuckled, gliding his hand against the expensive brown-leather couch. “Go wherever you want, you have my permission.”

That was really weird, no mistake.

Humming to yourself, you clicked your tongue and decided–right now you were not in the mood of solving any puzzles, so you just nodded to him before you left the living room as you were on your way to new adventures.

You didn’t remember how many rooms you’d already seen, there were a lot of them for sure. When you were about to come back to Patrick, you noticed a heavy door made of some dark high-quality wood; you could almost see your reflection on the doorknob.

As soon as you entered the room, you looked for a light switch, tracing your hand against the wall. Once you found it, you made a loud gasp at the picture that had opened up to you–plenty of animal heads were looking at you from the opposite side of the room, causing your blood to freeze in your veins.

It seemed like you accidentally got into the hunting room or maybe the study? Along with the hunting trophies, you saw a lot of different weapons: knives, rifles, daggers, and…even a sword?

Puzzled, you were thinking about to whom all of this stuff belonged as you came closer to have a proper look. You couldn't remember Bateman saying anything about him being into hunting, but maybe his father did—because this type of free time was quite suitable for people of high society. Reflecting on all these things, you didn’t notice your finger sliding against the handle of one of the big hunting knives. When you spotted a beautiful engraving on it, you squint your eyes in order to read it, but almost right away you were caught like a bratty baby whose curiosity led it into the trap.

“Aren’t you afraid you might cut yourself?” Bateman’s raspy voice sent shivers down your spine.

“Oh! I was just looking and…” you spun around to see Patrick standing in the doorway with his arms crossed on his chest. “Well… I wasn't supposed to touch it.”

For how long was he standing here, and how did he sneak up so quietly that you didn’t even hear a sound to detect him? Sneering, Bateman pushed off from the doorway, his dark eyes tracing all over your shaking frame as he must have been already so aroused.

“Are you gonna join me in the living room or have you suddenly decided to become a huntress?”

Embarrassed, you moved towards him to peck his cheek before murmuring: “Sorry, daddy. I hope you will forgive me for this little lapse in judgement?”

“Mm-hmm,” he muttered, giving your butt a brief slap. “I need to think about it. But now, I want you in the living room. Is it clear?”

You nodded in agreement as you moved to the door, leaving Patrick behind your back, so you couldn’t notice him taking exactly that knife you were touching before.

Once you reached the living room, you immediately saw a lighted fireplace which made the entire atmosphere so cozy and warm–you felt your heart melting from the heat it was radiating. Then, you found a glass of red wine which was waiting for you on the coffee table. Taking a sip of the tasty liquid, you placed yourself on the leather couch, watching the flame dancing like it was alive.

“Enjoying the drink?”

“I’m not an expert on wines, but this one tastes amazing,” you looked up at him before you froze in place. “Patrick, w-why do you need that thing?”

With a devilish smile on his face, Bateman was twirling a knife in his hands as he was slowly getting closer to you; the way his brown eyes were burning with an animalistic bloodlust made you feel a terrible drop in your stomach.

“Relax, Sugar,” Patrick let out a small laugh as he took pleasure in the look of fear you had mastered. “Those weapons definitely got your attention, didn’t they?”

“I… I was just curious, nothing special about i-it.” You hiccupped a bit, feeling an uprising panic inside your chest the closer he was getting.

“Do you like the feeling of danger?” he crooned in a provocative but seductive tone before he reached your place. “When adrenaline is rushing the blood in your veins, hmmm?”

At this moment, a sense of reality drowned in the theatre of madness and you didn’t even notice yourself breathing heavily with your heart beating so fast–he could hear it without a doubt.

“Okay… Now it’s not funny at all,” your voice cracked into a whine as you were going to break away from him, but he stopped you with his grip on your neck the second you tried to do it. “P-Patrick, your words were sufficient. You don’t have to do this...”

“Do what?” Bateman was shamelessly playing on your nerves cause he was so good at it and as a result he could sense the artery on your neck pulsing really quickly. “Do you want to know more about this knife?”

With that said, Patrick pressed a blade to your cheek in a way that didn’t hurt you, but you could feel the coolness of the metal on your skin. Gulping, you looked up at him, watching his fingers going up to your chin and then, he traced them along your lips, forcing you to open your mouth as he slipped his thumb inside of it. Suckling it with a true devotion, you were attempting to soothe your breathing as you were scared to get a cut.

When Bateman pulled his digit out, he drew near to kiss your neck but before he did it, he heard your muffled babble: “Tell me… Tell me more about it…”

Grinning against your skin, he left a notable wet hickey on your bare shoulder as he proceeded his way with the knife, going down to your cleavage. “This knife was exclusively made on my orders, from high-quality steel to the imported wood for the handle. The perfect combination of an extra sharp blade and a special decorative wooden handle.”

With each word he said, the heat of his body became unbearable to resist as you felt your nipples tense so hard–Patrick wouldn't miss it for sure and soon, you ended up being sprawled on the coffee table, panting and trembling from how he was using the knife, slicing your clothes here and there.

“D-daddy,” you sobbed, fidgeting in your place as you sensed the cold metal gliding over the inner side of your hip. “I’m scared…”

“Don’t be, Sugar. Just stay still if you don’t want to get hurt,” he sneered in a hoarse voice, pulling on your black tights to slice them without hurting you. “Mmhm, I forgot to say–I gifted this knife to my father, so it’s his favourite one from his extensive collection. The fact that you chose exactly this knife turned me on so much…”

Closing your eyes, you wailed in response as at last Patrick cupped your pussy, rubbing your blushing clit with the thumb through your damp underwear; for a moment you even forgot about the blade pressed against your thigh as your body was desperately yearning for more.

“So, I was right when I said that being in danger excites you? Such a nasty risky girl, huh?” Bateman taunted you before he planted a sloppy kiss on your mound, going lower to your little nub and then, he cut your panties, throwing them away like useless trash. “Once I entered that room I could smell your arousal in the air, you're a dirty little slut!”

“T-that's not true! Auhh-Patrick…”

“C’mon, baby. We are not at school,” he ran his fingers along your moist folds. “And I am not your teacher, you don’t need to hide your perverted vices from me…”

When you looked down to see him pressing a handle of the knife against your clit, you immediately suddenly cried out, leaning on your elbows: “Pat...Patrick! What… What are you doing?”

“You don’t see?”

“S-stop…Mmm-hm….”

“Do ya really want me to stop?” Mocking you, Patrick pushed the handle harder as he was massaging your clit with the tip.

These suddenly blissful sensations made your toes curl and your peaks were painfully tight, just like your whole insides as you felt the building tension in your lower belly.

“Your thirsty pussy certainly needs more,” he growled from watching your slickness running down the handle. “Much more…”

Biting his lower lip, Bateman placed his one hand on your cunt to spread your folds for better control as the thing he was going to do next, was totally destructive to your already clouded mind.

Almost with no resistance, he stuffed your little hole with a handle, fixating you in one place as you were jolting all over the wooden surface of the coffee table and moaning wildly like never: “O…G-God, a-ahhh…Daddy, this… this is…”

“Too much for you?”

“A-aww, y-yeahh,” you had to shush yourself with a palm from the friction the handle was making. “I…”

Paralyzed, you were falling down into oblivion the moment you felt him lapping at your throbbing clit besides the stretching penetrative feeling he was giving you with the handle–these things were pushing you over the edge insanely fast like a high-speed train. Twitching erratically from the intensive tremor, you clung to the wooden table top until your knuckles hurt. Arching your back like a tensed string, you were desperately catching the air between your moans, as all this time Bateman was licking and sucking on your pulsating nub, extending your delirious orgasm, while fucking your roughly with the handle.

Little drops of sweat were running down your face, when Patrick finally let you come back from your high as he left your body almost breathless.

“And what would you say about that?” panting, he briefly fixed his hair and only then, he pulled out the handle as he was going to clean it up. “According to what I saw–that was not too much for you.”

With all the strength you have left, you got up a bit to watch him licking your wetness off the handle. “No comments from me…I guess.”

His loud chuckle echoed in your head before he demanded: “Get yourself on the couch, we’re not done yet.”

Gulping, you thought he must have been joking, but when you looked into his dark eyes–you had no doubts about him being so damn serious. With shaking knees, you stood up and moved to the leather couch; Patrick was watching your every step as he was undoing his suit. Still quivering, you took the same place you had before, feeling yourself uncomfortable from the endless wetness between your legs.

“Sugar, look at me…” he purred, coming close to you as he was stroking his fully erected cock. “I’m not gonna face fuck you now, since you were a good girl last twenty minutes… But next time, I will ruin your mouth and your throat and I won’t stop even if you beg me. Understand?”

“Mmhm.” You muffled, giving him a foggy glance.

“Use words, slut.”

“Yes, Pat… Daddy,” you watched him smirking in satisfaction and then, Patrick got his leg on the edge of the couch, still having a knife in his other hand. “What do you want me to do?”

“Now it’s your turn to taste me, babe,” he pulled you closer to his groin by the back of your head, shoving his dick into your warm mouth. “A-argh…Yes, just like that…”

You mewled against his hot flesh, grabbing on his hips for support but almost instantly, Bateman removed your hands and squeezed your cheeks.

“No-no, I said to taste–not to touch.” His whisper sounded more like a feral growl as he brought the knife right next to your face once again.

Trembling, you swallowed hard and looked at the blade that could cut you at any second, feeling your heart about to jump out from your chest. Meantime, Bateman displaced his palm onto your swollen tits, pulling down the upper part of your dress to have a better access to your very sensitive nipples, pinching and rolling them painfully between his long fingers.

“Mmmm-hm.” You mewled, feeling his cock twitching in your mouth whenever you tensed your lips around it as if you were sucking your favourite ice-cream.

“Fuck, Sugar…You’re making daddy feel so good…”

Once you adjusted to the lack of the air in your lungs, he suddenly broke away from you, putting a knife on the floor nearby. Without saying a word, he manhandled you to turn around and lay flat on the couch, with your face pressed against the leather material. When you tried to lift your head, you were harshly pushed back and then; you felt his weight covering your little body. Fuck, Bateman was so powerful–he could easily pin you against any surface he wanted to, leaving you no chance to make any resistance.

“A-awww, Daddy… please! It’s so fucking deep, aa-ahh…” You cried out beneath him as he bottomed you out completely in one smooth thrust.

In return you only heard his low growl, flesh-meeting-flesh sounds bounced against the walls of the living room and there was nothing left for you to do but to be a good girl for him, accepting him the way he was.

Leaning on his fists, Patrick was pounding into you so briskly–you could felt each vein on his beefy shaft as he was literally fucking you into the couch.

“Patrick…Aaamh!…” Moaning, you turned your head to the side, looking down on the floor and spotting the knife on it.

Right away, Patrick noticed the direction of your gaze and grumped into your ear, giving your butt a hard slap, which would definitely hurt for a while. “My little bitch didn’t get enough of knife games?”

“N-no…I…I just, uu-uaah….”

“Can’t hear you,” he laughed and leaned down, taking the knife in order to press it against your throat. “Do you forget how to speak?”

“I’m…So f-full, mmmhm!”

“Oh, come on!” he slammed into your cunt till his heavy balls, coaxing something incoherent to erupt from your mouth. “I’m fucking your pussy, not your brain…”

Harshly, Bateman pulled on your hair, forcing you to look into his eyes as he was railing you raggedly, making your whole body rock whenever his solid hips were meeting yours. It felt so crazy, being fucked by him like an animal with a knife gliding against the delicate skin of your neck…and yet, you could sense the upcoming rapture in your gut as you couldn’t deny–you liked this man and all the things he was doing with your body cause you were probably as insane as he was.

“Fuck! I’m so close, Sugar… I wanna cum into your pretty mouth,” he blurted out, breathing furiously as he was trying his best to last longer. “Get on your back.”

You heard a knife fall on the floor with a loud thud, when you were changing your position and then, Patrick set himself on his knees over your face, almost straddling it. With a slight push, he buried himself in your mouth, yanking on your hair as he was desperately cresting his high.

“My perfect b-baby, sucking me so well…” Patrick looked down at you, groaning so loudly as the picture of you devouring his thick cock with such innocent eyes, drooling so badly from how vigorous you were bobbing your head–pushed him over the cliff, making him completely lose his mind. “A-hhh, (Y/N)!”

With closed eyes, Bateman moaned your name as he was spilling his warm seed into your throat and you almost choke on his beefy girth, clawing at his hips. When he slowly pulled out of you, leaving a string of liquids which was extended from your mouth till the blushing tip of his cock, you could feel his body shaking from the tremendous release–his cum was dripping on your tits from your chin as you couldn't swallow all of it and that sensation irrevocably turned you into a ruined sobbing mess.

Huffing, Bateman got his hair out of his face before he spun around in a half as his fingers found their way to your overstimulated pussy once again.

“D-daddy…It feels…So g-good….a-awww!”

That was the last thing you pronounced as you inner walls began to spasm so hard, Patrick had to press you against the couch with his weight as he was finger fucking you in a perfect rhyme, hitting all the right spots inside your cunt. Wrapping your neck, he leant over to your face to kiss your lips, tasting himself on it and consuming all the nasty sounds you were making as you were trembling uncontrollably in his brawny arms.

Later, after you both cleaned yourselves, you were lying on the couch, covered with a blanket which Bateman brought you some minutes ago; it was so warm and soft, you nearly purred from the pleasant feeling as you were totally naked cause you didn’t want to get dressed yet.

Resting on your elbows, you looked at Patrick who was standing near the fireplace and smoking his favourite cigar. Unlike you, he was wearing a white t-shirt and grey pants, which were perfectly outlining the shape of his tight ass.

“I can’t imagine what your father will say when he knows you took his knife…” You sighed sadly, rolling on your belly.

“He won’t say anything at all.”

“Why?” “I’m gonna borrow this knife from him,” he grinned as he turned in your direction, puffing on his cigar from time to time. “Coz I don’t know when my sugar baby will decide to play this game once more…”

“Me?!” you nearly squealed, getting up on your knees. “That was your idea!” “Really?” he crooned in a teasing way, admiring the view of your exposed body as the blanket slipped down a bit from you moving. “You know what? Next time, I don’t mind if you use this knife on me. I've got some shirts I don’t really like–you can slice some of them.”

The last thing you remembered before you fell asleep was him rumbling about the modern techniques of making different weapons and that one day, he should definitely take you to the shooting gallery. Simply irresistible man…

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader

397 notes · View notes

katethewriter · 2 years

Text

Just Come Home

sequel to Wish We Could Be Like That

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Words: 11k~

Summary: Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Inspired by the song Where's My Love by SYML

Warnings: bad words, bad guys, canon typical violence, an extremely long chapter

A/N: Remember when I said its gonna get worse before it gets better? hehehe... This part includes a long-awaited confrontation! I also hope this is a satisfying ending for the story. I don't really have anything planned next for this series, but I'm not against adding to it. If you have any ideas, hit me up! I might see if it can fit into the series. I'm almost certain this is the longest single chapter I've ever written for a fic. I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Near silent foot steps announce Clint’s return.

For the last two hours, he had left to pick up the next shipment you are to pass to the tracksuits. As he enters the room, he looks at you sheepishly. His hands mindlessly fiddle with a small piece of paper with every step.

You barely spare him a glance before returning to the notes you were studying.

The two of you have barely spoken since that morning you finally broke the news of your relationship. Beyond the few questions he asked you about the timeline of your relationship, not much has been said about the matter. The longer the information sets in, the more he contemplates the last year and his interactions with you specifically.

You can see the guilt setting in more and more with each day. You want to give him the benefit of the doubt. He had only been trying to be a good friend. He thought he was looking out for Natasha. That’s what he was trying to do, unknowingly causing the pain he was trying to prevent. You try to remember his intentions were in a good place, despite bring terribly misguided.

However, the sting of betrayal still lingers. The last six months spent with no contact from Natasha and Wanda, without even a chance to say goodbye, all because he meddled into a relationship that wasn’t his to meddle in to begin with.

He comes to a stop in front of you, holding the folded page between you. “This was with the shipment,” Clint breaks the three day silence, “its for you.”

When you look up, he doesn’t meet your gaze. You stare at the offered paper for a moment before finally reaching out to take it from him. As the archer shuffles back to his side of the room, you turn the page over in your hands. Unfolding it slowly, you instantly recognize the handwriting, and your breath catches in your throat.

Y/n,

I wish I could just speak to you directly. I know it would do me good to hear your voice right now, Wanda too. We meant it when we said we are incomplete without you. Unfortunately, this note will have to do for now. We understand this mission is very important, and you have to do what you have to do. However, we miss you more than words can describe and want nothing more than for you to come home as soon as you can. Work fast, but please be careful. Your safety is paramount. We will wait however long we must to be with you again.

We love you.

-N

You don’t notice you are crying until a tear has landed on the paper. You quickly swat away the tears, very aware of the archer still in the room with you. You look up and lock eyes with him. By the look on his face, you know that he read it. He must have to know that it was meant for you.

“I’m sorry,” Clint whispers.

Silence stretches between opposite sides of the room. You need to talk. Decisions have to be made, plans discussed and orchestrated. The next exchange is tomorrow night, and they will want your answer by then.

You fold the paper and tuck it beneath your pillow, “I know.”

“For all of it,” he responds, “for dragging you on this mission, for how I acted, for what I did that night.” He’s had time to think, practiced a few speeches in his head. The apology he owes you. The apology he owes Nat. He can’t seem to come up with the right words, but he tries anyway. He knows you need to clear the air, so you can complete the mission and get home where you belong. “None of it was ok,” he clears his throat.

It’s a big change, an almost complete 180. He wouldn’t blame you for not forgiving him. He knows he doesn’t deserve it. He hasn’t earned it, but he wants to.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Clint asks, “that night or even after?”

Incredulous, you look across the room, “would you have believed me?”

He’s quiet, contemplating his answer. He wants to say yes, that he would have believed you and reacted differently. If he’s honest though, he doesn’t know. Was he too blinded by his protective instincts to have seen the truth? “I don’t know.”

You nod. You can appreciate his honesty at least. “I was insecure,” you admit, “I was worried that you were right. That my involvement in our relationship was hurting them.” Your hand raises to your chest, running your fingers over the rings. Reminding yourself of the reassurances they promised you.

“I was wrong,” Clint nods towards the note under your pillow, “they’re obviously better off with you than without. I’m sorry I didn’t see it.”

You nod silently. As day turns to night and the sky goes black, you remember the mission and what you have to do tomorrow night. “I have to go,” you state, knowing that he will understand what you mean, “we both know that.”

Clint shakes his head, “I can’t let you.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes, “Clint-“

“Y/n,” he interrupts before you can even say anything, “I can’t. If I send you in alone, Nat will never forgive me.”

“You’re a little late for that, bud,” you retort with a raised brow.

He pauses for a moment, contemplating the cryptic message in your response. “She knows?”

You nod in response.

“Does she know about that night in the hall?” he specifies, “about the bruises?”

You nod again.

He furrows his brow, “but she never said anything.”

“She found out the night before we left for the mission,” you explain, “Wanda too, at the bar.”

Clint’s face falls even more, “was she pissed? Nat?”

A chuckle escapes your throat, “I believe her exact words were ‘I’m gonna kill him.’”

He nods solemnly. He knows he deserves it.

Silence falls once again. You both know what you have to do, though he doesn’t want to admit it.

“I have to go in,” you repeat, “it’s the only way we’re going home.”

Clint nods reluctantly, hoping this won’t be the last nail in his coffin.

~I’ve got a fear, oh, in my blood.~

When Wanda rolls over in the morning, she is met with cold sheets as usual. Natasha left long before for her morning run. The sokovian buries her face in the pillow, inhaling as much of your scent as possible.

Late in the night, she had made her way to Y/n’s room. Unable to sleep until she was wrapped completely in her girlfriend’s bedding. When Natasha had woken with Wanda’s movement, she quickly followed. Lying in Y/n’s bed, they were almost able to trick their brains into believing that she’s here.

As she sits up in the bed, Wanda can’t ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something doesn’t feel right, but she can’t put a finger on what it is. The worry settles into her bones as she gets up and begins the day.

Maria and Steve are standing in the same spot looking over the same display boards they always are when Natasha makes her way into the command room. Instantly, she can feel the energy is different today.

The pair are tensely focused on the information on the screens, hushed words exchanged quickly with a sense of urgency. Worry pools in the widow’s stomach like it never has before.

“Any news?” she asks as she quickly approaches the pair.

They startle at her sudden entrance. They turn to her, and then quickly look to each other in silent hesitation.

“What’s going on?” Nat asks after they are silent a moment too long for her liking.

Maria takes a deep breath looking to the ex-assassin, “Y/n missed the check in.”

The worry in Natasha’s gut quickly turns to panic, but she tries to remain calm. She can’t help if she can’t maintain control. “When?” her voice is tight. Her jaw clenched.

“Two nights ago,” Steve relents.

“Two nights?!” The Russian can’t control herself as the panic slips into anger, “What do you mean two nights ago?! Why haven’t you done anything?! Why am I just now hearing this?!”

“They had an exchange with the tracksuits the night before last. They were to check in immediately following,” Maria quickly informs her. “There was a possibility the exchange would lead to further interaction with the group. Clint checked in after and confirmed Y/n got the progress with the group.”

“We should have heard from her last night,” Steve added, and the tone of his voice told Natasha all she needed to know.

Y/n has gone dark.

“What about Clint?” she asks quickly.

Maria turns, “we’re trying to reach out now. We’ve been waiting for him to contact us back.”

“Is he not with her?”

Steve shakes his head, “he said they only agreed to work with her.”

Nat’s stomach drops somehow further than it already had. Immediately thoughts start spiraling in her head.

Clint hates y/n. Is he telling the truth? How much can they trust him? He threatened her. Was he really capable of leaving her in a dangerous position? He hurt her. Could he have put her in harm’s way on purpose?

Is that damn secret gonna cost her and Wanda the love of their lives?

TWO NIGHTS EARLIER

The warehouse is empty when you arrive, as always.

Clint parks, but neither of you exit the car. This could be the last chance to talk before this mission takes a serious turn for you.

“Are you sure?” he asks again. He’s hoping you’ll say no. That this exchange will be just like all the others. They will come, take the shipment and then leave the two of you to make your way back to base together.

“Yes,” you nod. “It’s the in we’ve been waiting for.”

He sighs, “I still say we should wire you.”

This….. again….

“We’ve been working with them for almost six months,” you parrot the same debate you’ve been going through for the past two days. “They’re barely starting to trust us. They’re gonna check for things like a wire. They’re too paranoid not to.”

The archer shakes his head. He hates the plan but knows there is nothing he can do to change it. “You have got to be careful,” he faces you directly, “I won’t be in there to cover your six. Get the information you can and get out as fast as possible. My phone will be in my hands at all times, but don’t try to reach out unless you know you’re alone. Once you’re out, call me. I will meet you whenever and wherever I need to, ok?”

For the first time in months, you look into his eyes and see your friend staring back at you. The guy he’d been before he questioned your involvement with your girlfriends. “Thanks,” you say, actually trusting the words he said to you.

“Let’s get this over with and go home,” he half smiles.

The flash of headlights grab your attention, signaling the arrival of the tracksuits. The two of you exit the car as the three vehicles come to a stop before you. The men start emerging from the cars, and you are met with the usual crew. The last to exit the car is Kazi. The boss’s #2, and the one you were leaving with tonight.

“Long time, no see,” Clint quips as he opens the trunk of the SUV revealing the crates of the substance you are particularly familiar with after months and months of study and handling.

Kazi’s men begin checking the shipment before loading it into their vehicles. The young man in charge approaches you, “I hear you have an answer for me.”

“What’s in it for me?” you bargain, knowing a blind acceptance is suspicious to men who only give when they take first.

Kazi’s lips curl into an amused smirk, “I think you’ll find you’ve been well compensated.” He nods in the direction of Clint and his men.

Once all the goods were transferred, one of their guys pass your partner a large envelope, like they always do at the end of your exchanges. Clint opens and counts the bills, quickly realizing there was more than was typically provided in their previous transactions. The archer looks up to you and nods.

“…and there’s more where that comes from if the boss is impressed.”

You lock eyes with Clint one last time. This is the point of no return. You will officially be on your own. You nod at him, before turning back to Kazi, “well what are we waiting for?”

“Alright,” he grins. He turns towards his car, raising an arm in a silent invitation. Kazi’s guys load into the other two cars and drive off. When you reach the car, he quickly opens the passenger side door for you. You sit down and buckle up as he closes the door and rounds the car.

Clint watches the two of you sit in the car before pulling away to follow the others. Once he can no longer see the taillights, he climbs into the SUV quickly pulling out his phone to check in with the Hill.

~She was carried up

into the clouds high above~

The car ride across town was comfortable enough. Conversation flows pretty easily between you and Kazi. You listen to him explain a little bit about the power structure of the group. He quickly names and describes a handful of the people you were going to meet and work with. He cracks jokes and spills a little bit of gossip amongst the group.

He actually doesn’t seem like that bad of a guy, you think to yourself. You could actually see yourself hanging out with him, if only he wasn’t a criminal.

Eventually he pulls into a parking garage beside what used to be a KB Toy Store. Its only a couple blocks from the abandoned office building you have called home for the past six months. You file that information away, just incase you need to hide quickly.

You exit the car and follow Kazi as he walks to a door on the adjacent wall. They’re steel double doors with large windows in the top half of the door. The view inside is blocked however with several layers of what looks like newspapers.

He stops in front of the door, turning to face you. “I gotta check you first,” he waits for just a moment before elaborating, “can never be too careful.” He chuckles in a way that you know you have no chance of refusing.

Lifting your arms in compliance, “by all means, check away.”

He quickly pats you down quickly until his hand lands on the hand gun strapped to your hip hidden beneath your jacket. He quickly lifts an eyebrow.

You cheekily lift one as well, “can never be too careful.” You smirk, trying to act smug to hide the pounding of your heart.

After a moment, Kazi breaks out a satisfied smile, “boss is gonna love you.” He turns back to the door, knocking three times, pausing for a second, knocking twice, pausing, then knocking three times again. After the sequence, he steps back, and the door is pushed open from the inside.

Kazi leads you through the door and immediately a guy is on you, beginning to pat you down. Kazi holds up his hand, “I already checked her.” He grabs the guys arm and shoves him off you, “she’s clean.”

“Except for the piece on her hip,” a booming voice echoes against the walls. You turn in the direction of the sound and see probably the biggest man you’ve ever seen (with the exception of the hulk) approaching you. You recognize him immediately. Its Fisk, aka Kingpin.

The younger man beside you huffs in amusement, “tell him what you told me.”

“New York’s a big city,” you state confidently, relying on the adrenaline to keep you going, “a girl can never be too careful.”

Fisk cracks smile, “fair enough. Name?”

“Unimportant,” you try to brush off the question.

He fixes you with a stare, “we use names here.”

You suddenly feel rather small under his gaze, “Y/M/N.” Not your official real name that you use, but close enough to not be a lie that could be easily forgotten.

He nods over his shoulder, “right this way, Y/M/N.” He leads you through a short entrance way that you can easily identify as the abandoned toy store. After a moment, you enter a larger room, that looks like a thrift store’s version of a chemistry lab. Tables are covered in tools, test tubes, and large containers of different substances. A wide array of materials, chemicals, powders, unidentifiable liquids and gel like substances. You quickly recognize a few. The one you have provided for the past six months, and others that you learned were often combined with it.

Several men are working meticulously measuring, combining, observing the different ratios as they try to create something. What they are trying to create, you have no idea. They pour over pages and pages of notes.

Kingpin holds up a page that lists detailed instructions for a certain combination of the materials you see scattered about the counters. “This is what we’re wanting,” he offers you the sheet for you to examine more closely, “but these idiots can’t seem to work it out. The subjects don’t survive the first 5 minutes of the transformation.”

At his critique, the men working in the “lab” look up in clear worry.

“Your reputation precedes you,” he taps you lightly on the back, “I hear you’re something of an expert in this area. Maybe you can show this crew how its done?”

You are far from the expert he’s described, but right now, you need to be. Quite literally, your life may depend on it. You may not be an expert, but you have learned quite a lot over the past six months. Enough so that as you glance over the notes quickly, you can almost instantly know what you’re looking at.

It’s a formula for a serum, specifically a very early, rudimentary version of the super soldier serum.

You had become very familiar with it, while studying the component that you have been supplying. Wherever they found these notes, must have been very outdated. This formula didn’t work. A few of the ingredients had later been replaced for better alternatives, some had been dropped altogether because they were not necessary for the serum’s effectiveness.

The biggest problem with this particular formula was that none of the subjects survived. With the perfect ratio, the subject would gain the strength and endurance of a super soldier, but due to unforeseen side effects, it had a very short shelf life. Usually within the following 24 hours, the subject would suddenly seize and eventually succumbing the side effects of the serum.

That’s why they can’t figure it out. The formula was just simply flawed beyond repair.

In an instant, your blood turns cold. The only way out of this building for you is to successfully manufacture the drug. If you did that, who knows how many innocent people will be at risk. Fortunately, quick thinking grants you the best plan of action.

Fix the formula just enough so its successful for a very short amount of time. You don’t need much, just enough to display the effects and get out before the serum kills the subject.

“Well, your problem is that these directions are almost over 100 years old,” you walk to one of the counters. Quickly grabbing a pen, you adjust the ratios, “this was one of the first attempts for the serum. They had to adjust the formula to make it successful.”

Once you are finished writing in the necessary changes, you fully enter the “lab” and begin gathering what you’ll need. The men, who had been working tirelessly, watch in shock as you confidently work circles around them.

This irritates Fisk beyond words, “start taking notes, idiots.” All of them hurriedly grab the closest pen and piece of paper available to them. Their focus then sets directly to you and every move you make.

The creating of the serum takes a few hours, requiring certain periods of heat and cold to activate different components. Once you’re finished, the sun has risen again. Neither you, the other men in the lab, or Kazi have slept at all during the process.

When Kingpin returns in the morning, you have a vial of the perfectly effective serum. You know you need to leave soon, but Fisk insists you stay through the first test.

They lead in a man with his mouth gagged. He is forcefully strapped to a chair for the injection. A part of you pities the man frantically trying to break out of confinement and as far away from your needle as possible. Then you remember, he’s a tracksuit, and the entire city depends on you getting out of here in time to gather the team for a strike.

Once you’ve injected the subject with the serum, it takes only a few seconds to fully work its magic. A small audience has gathered to observe the first trial of this new serum. He begins to thrash violently, even more so than when he was dragged into the room.

You all watch as his muscles swell, until the point a handful of the restraints burst under the force. It takes about 5 minutes for the initial effect to come to a stop, but then, he manages to break free of the restraints that remained like they were nothing. You turn your attention to the others in the room to gage their reactions.

Kingpin slightly smirked with victory. Kazi smiles at you, mentally congratulating himself for being the one to find exactly who they needed to make it work. The other lab workers stare awestruck that in a few hours you had accomplished what they have tried to for the better part of a year.

“Well done,” Fisk is impressed and anxious. He finally has what he needs to push is plan of city wide domination. “Put the formula in writing for our guys, and you are free to go.”

Instantly you do as your told. This new super soldier is a ticking time bomb, and you need to be far away when it explodes. After answering a few questions from the lab workers, you make your exit. Kazi stops you, asking if you need a ride somewhere. When you say that won’t be necessary, his face drops much like a kicked puppy.

…maybe Clint was right. You do have an admirer.

The moment you step foot outside of that store, you walk quickly in the direction of your base. You wait until you are a block away before pulling out your phone and call Clint.

Before he can even say hello, you interrupt him.

“Super Soldier Serum,” you say as soon as he picks up the phone.

“What?” he asks as he watches you walking further away from the building.

“That’s what they’re trying to make,” you continue, “the super soldier serum. They’ve accrued enough materials to inject over two thirds of their organization.”

When you round the corner, leaving Clint’s line of vision, he quickly makes his way down the building he was currently in, and he begins to make his way to meet you at the base. “With kind of man power…” he thinks out loud.

“They could level the city,” you finish the sentence for him. “I had to fix their formula-“

“You gave them the recipe?!”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you, “not exactly. I had to give them something to get out of there. I gave them one of the first, unsuccessful, instructions. The subjects won’t survive the next 24 hours.”

The archer can sense where this info goes to, “how long do we have?”

“Don’t know. Its different with each person,” you explain, “could be very late tonight or he could already be dead.”

Walking faster now, Clint feels a new level of urgency, “we need to get to the compound now.”

“and raid the store front. They’re already working on the next round of injections,” you warn, “They could inject a large number of them before they realize their poisoning themselves. At that point, they’ll be so pissed they won’t care what they do in the city.”

“Meet me at base.”

“A block and a half away,” you confirm, walking a little quicker desperate to get there now. So busy relaying the information, you don’t notice the two guys trailing you from across the street. Both are tracksuits; they sneak behind you waiting for their shot.

You’ve only just hung up the phone and turn down an alley to reach the back entrance of your building when a sharp pain pierces your abdomen. There’s no sound. No gunshot. No disturbance; nothing that should have stopped you on your way home. However, the next thing you know, you’re on the ground laying in a quickly growing pool of blood.

~If you’ve bled, I’ll bleed the same.~

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asks frantically entering the command room. All of the intense thoughts from everyone in the room had cut through any train of thought she had. Something is clearly happening, but the thoughts overlap and intertwine so much that she can’t make sense of any of it.

Nat turns to her girlfriend, “Y/n missed her check in two nights ago.”

The sokovian’s eyes go wide as she looks frantically between all three of them, waiting for more. “What?”

“She didn’t check in that night; there was a possibility that she wouldn’t. If she missed it, she was supposed to check in the next day, yesterday,” Maria quickly explains. “She didn’t.”

“and Clint?” the witch asks. One of the tings that worried her the most is that y/n was out there with him.

Steve responds, “we’re trying to reach out to him now. They were separated. He was supposed to check in after she got out sometime yesterday.”

“He hasn’t answered his damn phone,” Nat growls.

The four of them are in deep conversation, searching for any traffic cams or security cameras with in a five block radius. They’re so deep in conversation, the miss entirely the entrance of the very person they were trying to contact.

“Why aren’t they together?”

“Because I was sent to assemble back up,” a voice immediately sends their attention straight to the door. All of their eyes land on the archer.

A flurry of emotions race through Natasha and Wanda, fear, confusion, shock, panic, and lastly pure hot anger.

They haven’t seen him since that night at the bar, since they found out how he had hurt their girl. On sight, the betrayal and anger bubble to the surface. Wanda’s hands and eyes glow red unintentionally. Natasha immediately walks up to him.

The widow grabs his bicep the same way he had grabbed y/n. With everything in her, she swings him around to the closest wall. When his back hits the wall, he winces in pain.

The others are shocked still at Natasha’s violently angry outburst. “Hey Nat, cool it,” Steve attempts to deescalate the situation and break up the fight, but Clint holds out a hand, stopping him before he can really intervene.

“No, Cap,” he half groans, half whispers.

Natasha is not oblivious to the exchange. “No, cause you know you deserve it; is that what you did to y/n? Is that how you grabbed her?”

“Yes,” he admits to his friend’s face.

Natasha grabs him by the collar, pulling him away from the wall, just to slam him back into it, “how does that feel?” She only gives him two seconds to respond. When he doesn’t, she repeats the movement: pulling him away and shoving him back. “…and you deserve it. Don’t you? You deserve and she never did.”

Clint can only nod, “I do deserve it, but Nat this has to wait-“

She pushes him against the wall again, “Tell me, did you even give her a chance to defend herself before you started throwing her around?”

He has no words for his actions, no excuse. He sighs, “no.”

Natasha leans closer until she is in his face, “then why should I give you that curtesy?”

“Because Y/n needs us right now,” Clint states urgently.

She wants to keep going, wanted to punch him, give him a share of what he had inflicted on y/n, but at the sound of her name she pauses for a moment. She pushes off him, unwilling to risk y/n for her anger.

“Where is she?”

“Hiding near our base. I had to leave her and come get the team,” he looks over each of them quickly. “We have to go raid the old KB Toy Store and get back to her as soon as we possibly can.”

Maris from the place she had been observing quietly, steps up and asks, “why the KB Toy Store?”

“The tracksuits are using it as their front. Y/n got in, and they’re trying to make the super soldier serum,” he locks eyes with Steve for a moment. “She had to help them to get out of there. She gave them a formula that lasts max 24 hours before it kills the soldier. He wants inject a large number of his men within the next few hours. We have to stop them, before they realize they’re dying and take it out on civilians.” Maria quickly jots down everything that he says, so she can begin to organize a team.

“Where is she?” Natasha hisses, “why didn’t you come back together?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but his voice hesitates to form words. “She told me to leave her and come back for her. She wouldn’t have made the trip.”

“Why?” its Wanda who asks this time. Her eyes have begun to fade, but her hands still glow bright red.

Clint looks between the two of them anxiously, “because she got hit. GSW to the abdomen.”

Once again, rage erupts in Natasha, “you left her out there?” She takes him by the shirt and throws him on the ground. Kneeling over him, she only gets a few good punches in before Steve is pulling her off of him.

Wanda steps between them, while Steve continues to hold back Natasha until she has calmed down as much is possible considering the current state of events.

Clint shakily raises to his feet, np sporting a split lip and an already swelling face, “she made me come back for help.”

“How can we believe you?” Wanda questions. He had hurt her before, in her mind, it is entirely possible he would do it again.

“Because she gave me this,” he reaches into his pocket and produces a necklace, but not just any necklace. He holds up y/n’s necklace with two rings hanging like charms on a bracelet, the one they had given her as a promise of her place in their hearts.

In an instant, the necklace is wrapped in red light, ripped from his grasp, and flies to Wanda’s outreached hand.

She hates the thought of him having this in his possession. It was meant to stay on y/n’s neck always until they present her with a ring of her own.

“This doesn’t prove anything,” Wanda says through gritted teeth.

The archer sighs, wondering what it will take for them to listen and heed his warnings. An idea come to mind, “read my mind, Wanda. See the memory for yourself. If that will convince you that we need to move fast.”

Wanda closes the distance between them, and she wants to use her powers to throw him against the wall as Nat did. But she wants y/n home and safe more. Raising a hand, she taps the side of his head. She slips with him deep into his subconscious and more specifically, the memory in question.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint never heard a gun shot. He just rounded the corner to find Y/n on the ground rapidly losing blood.

“Y/n?” he runs over quickly. When he kneels down and sees you’re awake enough to talk to him, he feels a moment of relief, but only briefly. Taking in the blood loss, he knows you need help immediately, “its ok, y/n. You’re gonna be ok. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

He quickly does his best stop the flow of blood. He rips the bottom of your shirt to pack the wound, and another longer strip he wraps all the way around your stomach to keep as much pressure on the wound as possible.

Even despite the blood loss, you have enough cognitive function to think clearly about the situation, “Clint, you gotta go.”

“We will, give me one more second, then we’re on the move,” he continues to work on the improvised medical attention, frantically doing everything he can to get you well and stable enough to hurry across town.

“Clint, we’ll never make it,” you shake your head, “if this was Kingpin, he’ll have people, maybe even super soldiers all over the place canvasing the city searching for me. You need to go get back up and stop him before he succeeds.”

“No,” he shakes his head stubbornly, “I gotta get you back to Nat.”

“This is how you do that, Clint,” you try to reason, the clock is winding down. It may already have ran out. You try again, “I won’t make it across the city. I’m a breathing bread crumb trail that with lead them straight to you. You can come back for me.”

He halts his movements for a split second to look at you, “what would I even say to them? If I come back alone, they won’t believe me. They’ll think I left you for dead.”

You have to admit he has a point there. He needs proof. Something that will make them know to listen to what he has to say. With shaky hands covered in blood, you reach up to unclasp your necklace. Once its off, you clasp it again, and hold it out for him to take.

“Take this.”

“No,” Clint denies.

You don’t give in, “give it to them, they’ll listen if you have it.”

Tying one last knot in the make shift bandage, he’s almost ready to set you on your feet the best you could manage. “Give it to them yourself.”

“Clint please,” you beg with a despair in your voice that cracks his resolve, “I didn’t get to say goodbye.” Tears roll down your cheeks, suddenly facing a fear you never knew you had, “please, I can’t die, Clint. I can’t die without... I never got to say goodbye.” Your hand shakes as you hold up the necklace once more, “please. It’s the only chance I’ll see them again.”

He finally relents, taking the necklace from your grasp. He quickly looks around the alley, trying to fins a place that leaves at least somewhat hidden. He quickly lifts you and sits you beside the dumpster about five yards away. He finds the remnants of a cardboard box. Takin the larger pieces, he leans them over you and against the side of the dumpster. “Stay here,” he urges you, like there’s anywhere you could go. “This should keep you pretty hidden,” he says to you before placing the last piece over your face, “just incase they come back. Try to stay quiet and awake. We’ll come get you as soon as we can, I promise. Just stay with us.”

After that he covers your face, like he did with the rest of your body. Clint stands quickly reaching for his phone so he can call for backup, but he can’t seem to find it. He takes off down the alley without it. He doesn’t have time to look for it.

Y/n doesn’t have time for him to look for it.

Dodging the tracksuits while traveling across the city, proved to be much harder than Clint had anticipated. Several times, he had to hide low for a while, until the person moved on. All in all, it’s the next morning by the time he runs the compound doors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanda exits Clint’s memories and is thrusted back into the present. Immediately, her face crumples, and she buries it in her hands. She pivots falls back into Natasha’s embrace.

~If you’re scared, I’m on my way.~

No one needs to ask what that means. Everyone knows that Clint must be telling the truth.

“We have to go,” Wanda lifts her head, “We have to go now.” Natasha nods, pulling the younger woman close to her again.

A brief lock of eyes between Natasha and Steve is what finally tips the ball into rolling. The super soldier immediately sends out an urgent message announcing an emergency mission. Everyone is to suit up immediately and report to the command room right away.

Natasha and Wanda are the first to make it to the command, wanting no needing to be out there right now. Clint is a close second.

When he enters, the couple were staring at a monitor. A video clip plays on repeat. It’s a bit below average in quality, but they don’t care. They watch you exit the front and walk down the sidewalk until you walk out of frame.

They barely spare the archer a glance, before turning back to the video.

“I’m sure you don’t want anything to do with me, and I totally get that,” he pauses briefly as he formulates his next sentence in his head, “I just need to say I’m so-“

“You can apologize after we save her, and not a moment before,” Natasha cocks an eyebrow. Clint has come to know that facial expression well over the years, but never has it been directed at him. “Understood?”

He nods in solemn confirmation. They wait for the rest of the team, filled with anxious nerves and deathly silence.

Around 10 minutes later, the entire team is in the command room. Steve explains briefly the rolls for each person. You were splitting into groups, each group going after their respective objectives.

The vast majority of the group will be raiding KB Toy Store.

While Natasha, Wanda, and Clint will be on the second objective: locate Y/n and get her back to the compound as fast as possible. Wanda and Nat were assigned this group for the obvious reasons. Clint was chosen solely because he knows where he hid her. Not to mention that he volunteered himself for this team.

They take a helicopter across the city to avoid the delay of New York traffic. They landed on the rooftop of a building equal distance from KB Toy Store and where Clint left y/n. Everyone pours out and runs to do what they need to, knowing how time sensitive the whole situation is.

~Did you run away?

Did you run away? I don’t need to know.~

Clint leads Natasha and Wanda to the alley behind base.

When they turned down the alley, neither of them saw y/n, but they did see the rather large blood mark that still stains the concrete below. Sensing their panic, “Its ok, I moved her.”

The three of them run to the far side of the dumpster only to be met with several pieces of cardboard with some blood stains.

“I left her right here!” the archer exclaims. He told her to stay put, that he was coming back. A nagging feeling in the bag of his throat suggests that maybe she was picked up. However, they have no clues as to who would have done that. It could be anybody, the tracksuits, an ambulance, some other random stranger that just happened across a pretty helpless woman.

Wanda takes a deep breath trying to remain as calm as possible, even when it feels like her world is crumbling in front of her eyes. “I can’t feel her,” she’s unable to hear y/n’s thoughts.

“She might be unconscious,” Natasha reassures Wanda and honestly herself too. The widow is in deep contemplation of where y/n may have gone. “How far could she have gone if she left on her own?” Nat asks.

Clint shakes his head slightly, “not very far. I had to carry her from here to there,” pointing between the large blood stain and the side of the dumpster.

“So we start close and work our way out,” the widow takes a look at the surrounding buildings, “is she familiar with any buildings in this area?”

“Yeah, this building is our base,” he nods in the direction of the base. “but I doubt she could manage to get herself in there in the state she was in.”

“Have to start somewhere,” Nat tries to pull open the door, but is met with a resistance that will not budge.

“Wait,” Clint quickly comes up behind her holding a key, “we’re gonna need this.”

Nat takes a step back so he can get to the door, “does she have a key?”

“She does,” he turns the key and pulls the door open, “but I don’t know if it was on her person.

Upon entering, Nat and Wanda understand why this is the place is a perfect base while undercover. It doesn’t look like anyone has been here in years and years.

“Ok there are 14 floors,” Clint states, “our set up is on the eighth. We’d probably get the best results if we split up”

“Agreed,” Nat nods. “So, here’s the plan. Clint, go to the top floor and work your way down. Wanda, start from the ground floor and work your way up. I’ll start at 5 and work my way up. Everyone ok with that plan?”

Wanda and Clint quickly agree, and the three of them scatter. Each going to their separate way to search for y/n.

The archer is intimately familiar with the building so he quickly clears the top floors, making it all the way to the eighth floor. Once there, he runs into their setup hoping y/n has somehow managed to get herself up there. Unfortunately, the room is empty. Still determined to find her, he sits at the desk and begins searching through the security feed of the building, hoping it can show him where she went.

Natasha floors 5, 6, and 7. As she sweeps through 8, she hears what sounds like the typing of a keyboard. She follows the sound to a set of double doors; one of which is propped open. She takes a deep breath before entering the room and aiming at the room’s occupant. All she finds is Clint sitting at a desk. Lowering her weapon, she relaxes a bit.

“Have you already checked every floor above us?” she asks. All she gets a nod in response. Quickly she does the math in her head. How had he cleared 6 floors while she had only made it through 3? “… and you’re positive she’s not up there?”

Clint doesn’t even turn his eyes from the computer screens, “Nat, I have lived in this building for the last 6 months. The floors are clear.”

The widow approaches the desk and peers over his shoulder. Her eyes go wide when she sees the security footage he is looking through. He has all angles of the building. If y/n was anywhere in the building, they should be able to find her with the footage.

Wanda searches floors 1, 2, and 3 with no luck. She’s trying to move as fast as she can, while also being as thorough as possible. Its that thoroughness that keeps her from clearing the rooms as quickly as she likes.

Once she is certain the third floor is empty, she enters the stair well to move up to the fourth. She takes the first set of steps two at a time. When she turns to raise the next set of steps, she freezes mid-step, and stares.

“Y/n?”

At the top of the steps, you lay unconscious, leaning against the wall.

“Y/N!”

Immediately, Wanda flies up the stairs and drops next to you. She takes you into her arms. She cradles your head in one arm, while the other hand strokes your cheek. Your skin is ghostly pale, a clear sign of the amount of blood you’ve lost.

“Come on, detka,” Wanda calls to you, trying anything to wake you. She switches from stroking your cheek to patting it. “Please lyubov, wake up,” she desperately wants to see your eyes. “Open your eyes,” she tries to shake you awake, but your eyes remain closed, “Y/n please.”

Her voice waivers in terror. Pressing two fingers to the soft spot just below your jaw, she prays to feel a pulse. For a moment, she feels nothing and fears the worst. “No please,” her lip quivers in anguish, “… please detka, no.”

Wanda presses harder, willing herself to find it, and she does. Its weak and frighteningly slow, but its there. She’ll take it. She immediately raises her hand to press the com in her ear, “I found her! I’ve got her. We’re in the stairwell between the third and fourth floor, far east side of the building.”

On the eighth floor, Nat and Clint jump up from the desk, sprinting out of the room. “Is she…” the widow can’t bring herself to finish the question.

“She’s alive,” Wanda answers, not needing words to know what Nat meant. “She’s unconscious and nonresponsive, but she has a pulse,” Wanda looks up from your face to look towards the door she believes they will come through, “she needs medical attention now.”

“Get her to the chopper,” Steve’s voice rings through the com, “and take her to the compound.”

She shakes her head, even though no one can see her, “I don’t think she’ll make it to the chopper-“

“Wanda?”

Your girlfriend’s attention snaps down to you. She had been so busy trying to communicate with the others, she had missed you opening your eyes and staring up at her. Tears of relief flood her face, and she smiles down at you, “hi detka.” She cups your cheek gently stroking it with her thumb.

Leaning ever so softly into her touch, you try to return her smile, “I love you.”

A happy laugh falls from her lips, “I love you too.” She leans down to press her lips to yours for the first time in many months. Her lips are soft against your dry, chapped ones, but it’s still the best feeling you’ve had since the beginning of the mission.

She pulls back to look at you again.

“Which stairwell?” Nat’s voice pops into her ear, bringing Wanda back into the moment.

“There’s three on that side of the building,” Clint elaborates.

The witch brings her hand back to her com, “the northeast corner. She’s awake; she’s talking.”

“Nat?” you ask weakly.

“She’s here,” Wanda nods down at you, “Nat’s coming; she’s on her way.” She never released her com, so the team can hear her reassure you.

As she continues running through the building, Nat has an idea, “Wanda, give her your com.” The sokovian smiles to herself, knowing what Natasha is wanting to do.

You watch her rip the tech out of her ear and transfer it to yours. She holds the button, so they can hear you just as much as you can hear them. There’s only silence for a moment, then Nat’s voice fills your ears.

“Detka?”

It’s only one simple word, but it brings tears of joy to your eyes, “Natasha?”

“Hi lyubov,” you can hear the smile in her voice, despite her rapid breathing from running, “I’m almost there, love. I’m coming.”

“I love you,” you whisper, as the tears spill from the corner of your eyes.

“I love you too,” she immediately repeats back to you, “just hang on a little longer for me. We’re gonna get you out of here. Ok? You’re gonna be ok, just hang on.” Her voice is laced with urgency.

“Ok,” you promise.

There is more talking. Something about someone leaving the raid, to take you back to the compound immediately. You can barely make it out as your awareness begins to slip again.

Your eyelids are heavy, and despite your effort they begin to droop. Wanda notices this and begins shaking you again, “stay awake detka. I need you to stay awake right now.” You can only nod, as she gently strokes your colorless cheek.

The door to the stairwell flies open.

Natasha barrels through it, with Clint close behind. Wanda smiles up at her in clear relief to be with you again. Without pause, the widow falls to the floor next to you on the opposite side of Wanda. Her hands cradle your face, and her smile beams down at you, “Hey lyubov.”

“Hi.”

“If you ever leave without saying goodbye again, you are in so much trouble,” Nat playfully scolds you.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper at the pain you must have caused them.

They both shake their heads firmly. “Shhhhh,” Natasha leans forward to press a long kiss to your forehead.

From the doorway, Clint watches the reunion. A clear display of how wrong he has read the situation for the past year.

Natasha rests her forehead against yours, relishing your presence. Wanda pulls both of your heads close to her chest. They cling to you, like you might disappear if they don’t hold you tight enough. Not that you were complaining at all.

“Hey love birds.”

Wanda and Nat break from the embrace to face the door.

Tony now stands in the doorway behind Clint with only his face not covered by his suit, “I heard someone needed a lift.”

The two women look back down at you. “Tony’s gonna fly you to the compound,” Nat lightly scratches your scalp.

“We’re right behind you,” Wanda promises. You nod in confirmation. You don’t really want to separate from them right now, but you know that you can’t delay treatment any longer.

Natasha leans down to kiss you. She nestles her face in your neck briefly, trying to soak up as much you as she can before you part again. Once she leans back, Wanda takes her place. She whispers sweet nothings in your ear, then brings her lips to yours.

After they’ve said goodbye, they help Tony gather you in his arms. He lifts up and begins flying to the nearest exit. Once you’re outside, he rises and propels the two of you through the air.

“So, please tell me,” he says as you travel above the city, “exactly how did you manage to land not one, but two hot women? What’s your secret? …asking for a friend, of course.”

You chuckle despite your current condition, “I think I’ll ask Pepper about this ‘friend’ of yours first.”

~If you ran away,

If you ran away, come back home.~

The room is quiet. The only sounds heard are your measured breaths and the beeping of your heart monitor.

Nat and Wanda have not left your bedside, since you all returned to the compound yesterday. You haven’t woken up since the surgery to remove the bullet fragments in your abdomen. Cho has assured them that you are stable and expected to make a full recovery. All you needed now was rest while your body mended itself back together.

Wanda sits near your head. One hand holds yours close to her chest, while the other delicately strokes your face. After two blood transfusions and an iv for rehydration, your skin is full of color once again. Your cold, chapped lips are now soft and full. The change is comforting to both of your girlfriends. The y/n they know slowly returning to them.

Natasha is resting in a seat on your other side. She rests an elbow on your bed, propping up her head. Her other hand firmly grips yours on the bed. She’s fighting to keep her eyes open. The adrenaline has faded and exhaustion of not only the day before, but also the constant worry of the past six months finally catches up to her. Her eyes close despite her best effort.

They sit like that and wait and wait for you to wake up once again.

A soft knock on the door pulls Wanda’s attention from you. Natasha however has managed to doze off. Steve enters carrying two plates with a sandwich and some carrots on each.

“I brought you guys something to eat, when you’re up for it,” he sets the plates on the small side table near the end of your bed.

“Thank you,” Wanda smiles appreciatively.

Steve nods, “any changes?”

The sokovian deflates slightly, “not yet. Cho said it should be any time now.” She looks over your face, “just up to her now.”

He nods. He’s glad to have you back. The change in Wanda and Natasha is tangible. Your presence beginning to return them to their normal selves. He knows the moment you’re awake and well, they will finally be ok again.

“We got them,” he says, remembering part of the reason he ventured in here. “The tracksuits,” he continues, “we took them down before they were able to inject any others with the serum. Thanks to her.” He nods in your direction.

Wanda smiles proudly, “she’s pretty great right?” The super soldier agrees with a smile. “… though I may be a little partial,” she playfully adds.

“Rightfully so,” he takes one last glance at you, “keep me posted about any updates. Also, let me know if you need anything.”

“We will,” she smiles, “thank you, Steve.”

With one last nod, he slips from the room. Leaving the three of you in silence again.

Wanda’s attention returns to you. She hums softly and her fingers find their way to your cheek again.

Another hour passes in this way. You and Natasha both sleep, while Wanda memorizes every one of your features.

She’s so deep in thought, that she thinks she imagined it when your brow furrowed slightly. She continues watching as you lay still again. When your eyelids begin to flutter, she knows she didn’t imagine it.

“Natasha,” she reaches over to wake her.

The Russian startles awake. She lifts her head, looking at Wanda, then following her gaze to you just in time to see your eyes flutter open. “Lyubov,” she stands quickly to lean over you.

You blink against the harsh light as your eyes adjust. You are faintly aware of someone calling your name as you slowly take in your surroundings.

“Y/n?”

Looking up, you find Wanda and Nat looking down at you in hopeful hesitation. Their smiles only grow when you fully lock eyes with them.

“Hi-“ you try to say, but your voice is so dry. You’re sent into a small coughing fit.

Almost instantly, Wanda produces a cup of water from somewhere. “Here,” she offers bringing a straw to your lips. You drink greedily, taking large mouthfuls until your throat is no longer burning.

“Thank you,” you rest back into the bed, and a sharp stabbing sensations blooms on your stomach. You wince and try to lay as still as possible.

They notice this of course. “Are you in pain?” Natasha asks. When you nod, she reaches for the call button on the side of your bed.

A nurse quickly enters the room.

“She’s hurting, can you give her anything?”

The nurse nods, “I’ll be right back.” He then exits the room swiftly.

Once alone again, they turn back to you.

“The tracksuits?” you ask. You need to know that the danger has been neutralized.

“Gone,” Wanda smiles, “the team took them down before any more of them were injected. SHIELD confiscated all of their materials. Its all locked away. Everything has been taken care of.”

You nod gratefully, but worry and guilt stirs within you, “I didn’t want to help them.” You look between them, hoping they will believe you, “I had to give them something, but I didn’t want to-“

“Hey, hey,” Natasha hushes you, “its ok, you did the right thing. You bought us time to take them down.”

Wanda quickly jumps on the end of Nat’s words, “the mission was a success, and that’s all because of you.” They gently soothe you until your worries are squashed.

They’ve finally calmed you down when there’s a knock at the door. You all look up to see Yelena smiling in the doorway.

“Hey, you’re awake,” she enters and stops at the foot of your bed, “how are you feeling?”

You tilt a bit, “well I’ve been better.”

The blonde nods with a smile, “yeah, I bet.”

There’s a moment of silence, and the energy in the room feels awkward. No one quite knowing what to say. This is the most Yelena has spoken to you in you can’t remember how long. Her friendly tone throws you off a bit, but it is a welcome change.

“I need to apologize,” Yelena finally breaks the silence. By her face and tone, you can tell that she knows about your relationship. Her guilt is clear on her face.

“Its ok-“ you try to say, but she cuts you off.

“No, its not,” she stands resolute, “I never should have treated you that way. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was so uncool of me to assume the worst without knowing the whole story.” As she speaks, you can feel the sincerity of her words, “you were my friend, you deserved better than that. I know I don’t deserve it, but I would like to be your friend again, someday.”

You smile. This is the Yelena you have missed since she became suspicious of you. “Is this the part where you give me the shovel talk? ‘You better not hurt my sister or else!’?”

The blonde looks between her sister and Wanda, “I’ve been told I used up all of my protective sister speeches.” She pauses for a moment, “… plus, I trust you not to hurt her.”

Her words hit you straight to your heart. Emotion starts to gather in your eyes; you lightly squeeze Nat’s hand prompting her to bring yours to her lips. She leaves a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

Yelena takes this as her cue to leave you three to each other. “I’ll get out of here, so you can rest,” she smiles to each of you, “if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you, Yelena,” you say. She gives you one last half smile before slipping back into the hallway.

Once alone again, you look up to them and sigh, “I missed you so much.”

“We missed you too,” Wanda leans down to kiss you lightly, “more than you know.”

Natasha then leans up to press her lips to yours. She’s happy not only that you’re home, but you’ll also be treated the way you deserved to be from the beginning.

“Am I interrupting?” a familiar voice asks from the doorway.

“Yes,” Natasha grumbles and breaks the kiss to acknowledge the new visitor.

The three of you find Clint standing awkwardly with flowers in his hands, but you don’t notice those. You are too preoccupied by his appearance. His face is all beat up. A busted lip, swollen eye, and a litany of bruises adorn his face.

“Woah, what happened to you?” you ask. None of those injuries had been there the last time you saw Clint, when he hid you beside the dumpster. You know he had been there when they found you, but you never saw him, too concerned reuniting with your girlfriends and trying to maintain consciousness.

“Nothing I didn’t deserve.”

He steps into the room. “These are for you,” he places the flowers on the side table next to two plates of food you are just noticing for the first time. Were those for Nat and Wanda? When was the last time they ate?

He then stands looking between the three of you. Wanda and Natasha are very much still angry with him. They barely spare him a glance. Natasha specifically fighting to keep her hands to herself.

“I want to apologize,” he starts, “to all of you. I’m sorry for dragging Y/n on that mission, for all that time you suffered being apart. Nat, I’m sorry I didn’t just come to you and ask what was going on. Y/n, I’m especially sorry for lashing out at you. That night in the hallway…”

At the mention of the incident, both Wanda and Nat snap their focus on him. Their need to protect you pushing itself right to the front of their brains.

“… it was uncalled for,” he finishes, “and way out of line. I don’t expect or deserve your forgiveness, but if there is anything I can ever do to make up for some of the suffering I’ve caused, I will do it without question.” Your girlfriends don’t say anything; they just return their attention to you.

“Just you wait,” you break the silence, “once I’m cleared, we’re gonna spar, and I will not be pulling my punches.” Despite the anger they still feel, your remark brings an amused smirk to their faces.

Clint chuckles lightly, “I think that’s more than fair.”

Just then the nurse finally returns with the medication to help with your pain.

“I’m gonna step out,” the archer says, “I’ll see you around.” Without anything further, he exits the room.

The nurse approaches the side of your bed, and Natasha steps back to give him room to work. “Alright Agent Y/L/N,” he adjusts your iv and begins to push the medication into the line, “this should help with your pain. It has a sedative effect, so any drowsiness is completely normal.”

You nod as you feel the effects of the drug throughout your body.

Once he is finished, he resets your iv with fluids, gathers the discarded vial of medication and makes his exit, “if you need anything, just press the call button.” With that he is gone.

Your girlfriends settle back beside you like they were when you were asleep. Nat runs her fingers through you hair, while Wanda takes your hand between both of hers. You relax back into the bed as the medication fully sets in. Your side no longer hurts, and your brain feels a bit fuzzy.

Your thumb runs across a ring on Wanda’s finger, and she is reminded of the item in her pocket.

“I have something for you,” she says softly, reaching into her pocket. You furrow your brow curiously. When she holds up the necklace with their rings, you can only smile. She reaches around your head to put it back in its place, and you lift your head to give her more room. “There,” she says once it is secured around your neck.

Nat reaches and adjusts the rings until they are centered on your chest. She fixes you with a stare, “if you ever take it off again, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

A genuine laugh bubbles up your throat, “I won’t.” Your eyes feel heavy once again. The longer the drug is in you, the more it works its magic.

“Sleep,” the widow urges you, “you need it to heal.”

“We’ll be here when you wake up,” Wanda promises, “sleep now.”

Unable to fight the drowsiness, you relent, “ok.” Though you catch sight of something, right before you can close your eyes, “will you do me a favor?”

“Anything detka,” they agree before you even ask.

You smile cheekily, “eat those sandwiches before I wake up again.”

Now, they are the ones laughing. Nat rolls her eyes but agrees, “ok.” She resumes playing with your hair, while Wanda hums quietly again.

The combination quickly drifts you off to sleep again.

~Just come home.~

Learning Curve

Series Master List

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

…so they keep telling me my taglist is too long, and I’m not allowed to tag that many people in a post, SO I’m gonna try to tag the rest in the comments. If you know a way around the 50 tag limit, let a sister know please 🙃

tag-list: @simp4nat @mostlymarvelsstuff @youralphawolf72 @originallovementality @an-evergreen-rose @mmmmokdok @localarcherwriter @boowhobabe @womenarehotsstuff @gay-trash-in-a-paperbag @lifeontop @wandamaximoff-simp @kaitlynroseb @diablloblood @ang3lmask @marvelwomen-simp @nightimemommy @smromanoff @nothisismax @splatasha-jumpinoff @natashaswifeu @nattyswidow @dumpaccdontmindme @natty-taffy @iliketozoneout @nowthisisliving27 @theoowo @tvseries-writings @trikruismybitch @s1ut4nat @xinied @souanick @melatonindaydreamz @angel-of-snow @chailivi @lainjupi @gay-fandom-menace @trashbod @lonewalker17 @daenerys713 @tigerlillyruiz @winters-witch-bitch @wizardofstories @karmasgxrl @kyoka-jirou @m-r-nicely @marvelfan-2022 @its-just-greek @anonreader346 @justarandomreaderxoxo @smallworld123 @finleyfray @maernys @loveshineslikethesky @peachesandhoneyb @danicarpediem @ministark @imthenatynat @bapplenana @alwaysgoodnight @oh-thats-cute @jowshuaayee

***if your url is not listed above or in the comments below and you would like to be added to the taglist, please go to the series master list and comment there. Its easier for me to have all the tag requests in one location. Thank you, y’all are the best 🥰

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