#we’re only two chapters in so we’ll see how we go

[sharpstake]

Honestly I’m going to give First Comes Love’s whole jealousy thing a chance because I think the only point where it would turn personally uncomfortable for me, is an narratively unchallenged and active sabotage of Rebecca. If it’s more of a “I feel jealous yeah but I’m more trying to demonstrate to Blake how much we’re still alike in the hopes that maybe they might make a different choice” or even a recantation of sabotage after a character arc , that’s an angle I personally enjoy in slice of life more. Character arc about that sabotage or not sabotage at all are my two preferred options ig but we’ll see how it goes

[formulawolff]

vi. morning confessional - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.5k

warnings: i typed this entire chapter on my phone while i was at work, so if there are any spelling errors, oopsies! cursing, age gaps, power imbalances, yearning, tons of yearning, oral (f! receiving), mentions of sex, teasing, slight praise kink, slight size kink, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, causing you to stir. scrunching your nose, a yawn takes hold. at the action, his arms instinctively pull you in closer, smothering your face in his chest.

“good morning.”

“good morning beautiful girl,” his voice is thick with sleep, and oh so sexy, “how did you sleep?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“better than usual.”

“me too,” soft lips connect with your temple, “what time is it?”

yawning once more, you roll over, plucking your phone off the nightstand.

“8:38 a.m.”

“shit.”

“somewhere to be?”

“yes,” the team principal groans, rubbing his eyes, “unfortunately i am running very late for it. i’ll just let my assistant know i can’t make it.”

“oops,” you shrug, collapsing back into his arms, “why can’t you just stay every night?”

“you know why, schatzi,” he murmurs, squeezing you, “this is going to be a long two weeks.”

“awww,” you tease, ruffling his hair, “is someone going to miss me?”

“you have no idea.”

“we’ll be in japan. that will surely be exciting,” you begin to run your hand through his hair, melting as his lashes flutter.

“and you know what comes after japan.”

“miami,” you suck in a breath, “that still gives me some time to consider everything.”

“just don’t overthink it,” one eye opens, “if you overdo it, you’ll start to reconsider every little thing.”

“i know,” you exhale, “it’s just overwhelming. i don’t like disappointing people either.”

“oh i know,” toto leans in, the tip of his nose brushing yours, “you tend to put on this facade that you’re selfish, doing things only for your gain. however, i have learned that deep down, you’re a huge people pleaser. that’s why you’ve been dragging your feet in giving me your answer. you don’t want hurt james. you don’t want to disappoint the team. most of all, you don’t want to face the backlash that will follow.”

your lower lip trembles, tears welling up in your eyes. they threaten to spill over, and his brows furrow, “oh schatzi, i didn’t mean to hurt your—“

“no,” you sniffle, “i just hate that you’re right.”

“you don’t have to spend your life pleasing others, you know,” his arms engulf you in an embrace, rubbing circles on your back as you weep into his chest, “you’re allowed to make decisions for yourself. you need to do what you feel is best.”

“but there’s just one thing that i can’t shake,” the words are barely coherent, but he hears them anyway.

“and that is?” he inquires, kneading into your shoulder blades.

“i want to be with you at mercedes. i’m just scared that if something happens between us, i’ll regret my decision.”

“us?”

your eyes snap open, panic settling in, “i-i, um, i — i didn’t mean anything by that, i just—“

“you want an us?” fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“i-i mean,” your voice falters, “isn’t it inevitably going to happen if we keep seeing one another? one of us is going to develop feelings and we’re going to—“

lips crash into yours, nearly knocking the wind out of your lungs. it’s a passionate kiss, needy and brimmed with hunger. fingers tangle in your hair, tugging at the roots as you whimper, his tongue licking along your lower lip. he sucks on it, the hand on your back delving lower and lower, gripping the curve of your ass.

a noise rumbles in the base of this throat as you suck on his tongue, the kisses growing sloppier and messier by the second. the noise is guttural, almost like a growl.

he pulls away momentarily, panting slightly, “who is to say that the feelings aren’t already there?”

“toto you don’t—“

“i do,” shifting his weight, he pins you to the bed, “like i said, i didn’t have a crush. i can’t stop thinking about you. every single time i think about racing, or my drivers, or even mercedes in general, my thoughts wander to you.”

as he takes you in, you can’t help but gaze into his eyes, your hand reaching out. fingers brush his cheek tenderly, tracing the lines that scoured his face. his lashes flutter at your touch, his chest heaving as your fingertips wander, memorizing every minuscule detail.

your fingertips land on his lips, “i just need to know one thing.”

“what is it, love?”

“this offer, signing me as a driver to mercedes. is it business or is it personal?” preparing for the worst, you feel yourself instinctively shy away.

yet, he isn’t fazed, maintaining eye contact, “do you want my honest answer?”

“of course i do.”

“personal. completely personal,” there’s a glint in his mocha depths, an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“ever since i saw that photo of you, signing that contract with williams, i knew i wouldn’t be able to resist you. i tried, i really tried to maintain my distance. to stay away. but i can’t. there’s something about you that draws me in. i don’t quite know what, but i know that i need you by my side. at mercedes, where i can make you a world champion. my world champion. i would make my golden girl a world champion.”

“toto,” you begin, but he continues, pressing a finger to your mouth.

“yes, it would be good for mercedes to sign on a driver with your talent. our reputation would benefit. you have the qualities of a mercedes driver. but this isn’t about business. this is personal. it always has been. it always will be.”

“i-i,” you stutter, the temperature of the room elevated as toto’s mouth inches closer and closer to yours, “i don’t know—“

“you don’t have to say anything right now,” his voice is low and thready, consumed with desire, “i know it’s a lot. there’s a lot to consider and a lot at stake. but for now, just focus on me. can you do that for me baby?”

nodding meekly, anticipation takes a hold as he lowers his head, mouth connecting with your heated skin. the kisses travel further and further down, his hands finding yours, intertwining your fingers together.

“so beautiful,” he whispers, “so, so, so breathtaking.”

“so are you—“

a moan fills the space as his mouth envelops your clit through your panties. he groans at your reaction, knuckles turning white as you squirm, gripping your hands tightly.

“take them off, please.”

“so you do beg,” he taunts, his breath hot as it fans against your inner thighs, “what do you need again, schatzi?”

“i need you,” you whimper, dripping with desire, “i need you, toto wolff.”

“i’ll take care of you baby,” his pupils are dilated, blush tinging his cheeks, “just relax, and let me take care of you.”

at the sight of you beneath him, aching for his touch, toto nearly unravels.

was he dreaming? or was this heaven?

god, you were so fucking beautiful like this. all needy and desperate. between your thighs, he couldn’t help but notice the wet spot pooling in your panties. goosebumps riddled your arms and legs, yet your skin was so soft and warm.

you were practically inviting him in.

and how could he resist?

“is this okay?” the team principal tugs on the hem of your panties.

“yes,” the corners of his lips curl into a smirk at your quick response, “please, toto.”

dragging the fabric down your legs, he relishes how they glow in the morning light.

every part of you was so beautiful. every. single. part.

“open your legs,” strong hands grasp your thighs, the command sending a shiver down your spine, “i need to see that perfect pussy.”

you can’t help but obey, shielding your face instinctively as he situates himself, mouth merely centimeters from your drenched pussy.

if your body was an altar, toto was prepared to worship, savoring and praising every inch of you until there was nothing left.

“don’t hide,” he tuts, “i want you to watch.”

“but—“

a hand, your hand, covers your mouth as his tongue delves between your folds, your back arching. fingertips dig into your hips, holding you in place.

toto was a starving man. and fuck, did you taste so fucking good.

he couldn’t get enough, the tip of his nose brushing against your clit as his tongue explores every inch of you. his tongue applies pressure to your clit as he sucks lightly, swirling in circles as you buck your hips.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

toto didn’t have to ask if you were close. he could sense it, the way your muscles were beginning to tense up. the way your hips rocked back and forth, practically riding his tongue. the way your voice was growing louder and louder, yearning for more and more.

already this close and he had barely even started?

fuck, was he going to have fun with you.

“toto,” there it was again, his name from your lips, “toto, i’m going to — you’re going to make me cum.”

“you deserve it,” he pulls away, mouth and chin glistening, “you deserve it baby. cum for me. be a good girl and cum for me.”

the words coax you to the edge, and you feel a finger wedge its way into your tight hole, your walls stretch, adjusting to the size of his finger. just as you get used to one, he shoves another inside, pumping them in and out, curling once they’re inside.

the euphoria crashes over you like a tidal wave as his mouth plants kisses over your clit, practically making out with your pussy. you feel your walls close in, the pleasure wound up tightly in your lower abdomen.

“toto,” you’re almost breathless, “i-i’m going to cum.”

moans flood toto’s ears as you orgasm, your thighs squeezing against his ears. your muscles twitch and shudder, juices dribbling down his chin.

pressing one last kiss to your pussy, he catches his breath, wiping his chin.

before you know it, two fingers are pressed against your lips, “taste yourself.”

opening wide, your tongue dances along the digits, licking them clean. toto watches in awe, a fiery hunger burning within.

it took every fiber of his being not to just spread you open again, filling you up, claiming you.

claiming what was rightfully his.

“oh my god,” you exhale, scrambling to muster a single coherent thought, “that was—“

“you’ll get more.”

your back meets with the mattress once again, hands on your head, “holy shit.”

“never had a man make you cum like that before?” you want to slap the smug smirk off his face.

but you stop yourself, feeling a frown form as he plucks his clothes off of the floor, shoving his legs into his slacks.

“leaving so soon?”

“i have to go,” relief ripples from your head to your toes as you sense his disappointment. he was just as upset to go, “i want to stay baby, but i have about sixty-two missed calls and seventy texts. they’re wondering where i am and i need to get going.”

“that’s all right,” reaching for own phone, you wonder if you were in a similar predicament.

you couldn’t quite remember, but you were sure you had missed a few meetings. one of them was more than likely with the press. one was probably a team meeting before the next destination.

“what’s going to be your excuse?”

toto pauses momentarily, leaning over to give you a swift peck, “the answer is simple. they won’t get one. they don’t need to know where i was.”

“someone’s grumpy,” you giggle as you notice the prominent frown.

“yeah i am.”

“and why’s that?” you arch a brow.

“because i want to fuck the shit out of you,” the casual delivery has you reeling, your heart fluttering as he shoves his arms into his dress shirt.

“i want to watch you cum again and again and again. but i can’t. i have to go about my day as if i didn’t just taste pure ambrosia on my tongue. i have to sit there and answer phone calls, emails, my team, and act like nothing ever happened.”

“is it hard for you?”

“of course it’s hard,” toto runs a hand through his hair, and you pick out the tightness of his jaw as he speaks, “i want to tell someone. i want to tell someone how the most beautiful woman in the world has me wrapped around her finger. how i’m putty in her hands. but i can’t.”

“toto, i—“

“i hate to interrupt you,” he crosses over to the bed once again, scooping you up in his embrace, “but i really have to go. i’ll text you, okay? maybe we can rendezvous at some point in these next few weeks. i’ll fly you out. you wouldn’t have to pay a single penny.”

“okay,” you nod, inhaling his scent one last time, attempting to memorize the way his arms feel around your frame. it was far too quick, toto pulling away, tousling your hair.

“be a good girl for me. i’ll see you soon.”

“i’ll see you soon, toto.”

and just like that, he was gone.

biting your lip, you curl up on the mattress, throwing the comforter over your body.

you shouldn’t cry. not over this.

but why did you feel that urge? why was it becoming increasingly more difficult to focus on anything other than the team principal?

yeah, you had a crush on him. that was years ago, when you were a teenager. that was innocent, a young girl swooning over a man nearly three times her age.

now, that crush was developing into something much more. something far more complex that you could have ever imagined.

you were falling head over heels for toto wolff, whether you liked it or not.

and you couldn’t fight it, no matter how hard you tried to push those feelings away. you had tried to seal them away in a box, throwing out the key.

somehow toto had found that damn key.

he was the key, really.

and who knew what would happen if you opened the lid to that box.

however, there were far more pressing matters.

picking up your phone, you scroll through your messages, notifications, and emails.

there was nothing too crazy you missed, just a quick debrief before you all left for home for the next week or so.

although, one particular text caught your eye.

it was james, sent about fifteen minutes ago.

good morning, american girl! i’m not sure if you’re aware, but the fia has made their decision concerning your tussle with george. it’s not good, but it’s not bad either. i figured you were probably not feeling up to the team meeting since you got pretty banged up from the crash. get some rest, then give me a call when you can.

also, is there a reason why toto wolff approached me yesterday? he was asking about your contract. do you have any idea what that was about?

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @toldyouitwasamelodrama @nebarious @whoisss @kravitzwhore @prettiest-at-the-party @persona1lies @zoeyjadetice2010

let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

[microclown]

I think, not everyone, but a lot of the people who are so hung up on the kiss aren’t thinking about it within the context of the narrative.

I probably won’t articulate this well, but the whole plot of season 2 felt like a direct, meta-y response to us, the fans, and our desire see Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship progress to something more.

Neil had established in the first season, they are already in love, so what is it really then that we want see? What is it that’s missing? That leaves us feeling unsatisfied?

What does love mean to you? What would it mean to Aziraphale and Crowley? What does a loving relationship look like, and how does one get there?

The methods Crowley and Aziraphale use to get Maggie and Nina together are common romance tropes in fiction. Crowley says “one fabulous kiss and we’re good!”

But rainstorms and dancing didn’t make Maggie and Nina fall in love. They were going to get there on their own, eventually, after a lot of open communication and working on their own personal growth.

And “one fabulous kiss” won’t give us a happy ending. It won’t give us what we’re missing from Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s relationship. We as fans like to think that’s all we want, but is it really? Because the love is there! What we’re truly missing has more to do with internal growth and healing, communication, and working towards a true understanding of each other.

And I think that’s what we’ll get in season 3! I don’t know if we’ll get another kiss although I would love to see one but we will get a satisfactory resolution between two beings who are deeply in love.

As a side note, I don’t want to down play how fucking important it was to have them kiss on screen. As someone who has grown up watching queer coded relationships on screen and is exhausted from having everyone involved queerbait, or even outright ridicule their fans for seeing it that way, it is so refreshing to have a very visual, undeniable, romantic gesture. Because I know it really does take a kiss for some people *cough* my parents *cough* to see a relationship as anything but platonic. I’m so glad we got that undeniable validation before what I can only expect is going to be an epic third chapter!

[simplygojo]

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 1

Authors Note: Hello lovely people! Here is the introductory chapter to a new series I have had in mind for a while, I hope you enjoy! I am hoping to upload chapters weekly, as it will be a relativly long series, so if you'd like to join along for the emotional rollercoaster this will take me though, please feel free! Also, I am ALWAYS open to requests, so don't be shyyyyy!! luv u all, thank you to all who support my work :)

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series summary : After being found by Gojo and his first year students in a sticky situation, y/n joins Jujutsu High under the close supervision of Gojo. As time passes, the two of you become close, with a strong unspoken bond forming as you work together. Although, there is something dark looming over the situation, and those at Jujutsu High are determined to get to the bottom of it, before it is too late.

Chapter Summary : After a mission to investigate a special grade curse, Gojo and the first-years discover y/n, who has no memory of the past week. Despite a series of tests, her innocence is confirmed. Gojo becomes unusually protective of her, sparking curiosity among the students and other sorcerers. As y/n begins to adjust to life at Jujutsu High, Gojo finds himself increasingly drawn to her, unable to ignore his growing attachment.

Word Count : 3.8k

Warnings : none (for this chapter, wink wink), maybe slight mental overstimulation?

| Next Chapter

The forest was cloaked in an oppressive silence, where every sound seemed swallowed by the ominous presence of cursed energy, the type that even the lowest-level sources could feel in their bones. Footsteps crunched over twigs and leaves, disturbing the stillness as Gojo Satoru led his first-year students deeper into the thick of the cursed energy's source. 

His casual demeanor, hands tucked into his pockets and a laid-back smile playing on his lips, contrasted with the seriousness of the situation. It was as if they were out for a casual stroll instead of on a mission to investigate a reported special-grade curse.

Itadori Yuji, Fushiguro Megumi, and Kugisaki Nobara followed closely behind, their expressions ranging from excitement to apprehension. 

The blend of eagerness and wariness that accompanied every encounter with curses was palpable. Yuji’s bright, curious eyes darted around, already anticipating the unexpected. Nobara, less enthused, let her irritation show in the way she muttered complaints under her breath. Megumi, the most composed, kept his focus sharp, his brow furrowed in anticipation.

“So, we’re just here to observe, right?” Nobara asked, her voice laced with frustration. She wasn’t one for waiting around, especially when the promise of action loomed. “If it’s a special-grade curse, I doubt we’re doing much besides standing around.”

Gojo chuckled lightly, the sound teasing. “Observing is just as important as fighting, Nobara. It's all about learning how curses work.”

Yuji shot Gojo a curious look. “But it’s dangerous, right? You’re the strongest sorcerer, so we’ll be fine?”

Gojo was amused by Yuji’s innocent confidence. “Special-grade curses can be unpredictable, Yuji. It’s not just about strength; it’s about knowing what to do when things don’t go as planned.” He grinned wider and put his hands behind his head, adding a sense of cockiness as he walked, “But yes, Yuji, I am the strongest.”

Megumi sighed and rolled his eyes at his sensei's snarky comment, his skepticism apparent. “I still don’t see how standing around helps us learn anything.”

“Trust me, Megumi,” Gojo replied, his tone cryptic. “You’ll see soon enough.”

As they ventured deeper into the forest, the heavy cursed energy they had been tracking began to grow stronger. A sort of power Gojo had only felt a few times before in his life, evoking a feeling of both excitement, and fear, the latter which he hadn’t felt in a while.

“We are close to the special grade…stay alert students! You don’t want to miss a master in action!” Gojo said in his usual excited tone. 

Beginning to dramatically stretch to prepare for the battle, Gojo was about to give the three first-years instructions to just observe the battle and take out any low-grade curses they encountered. However, before he could open his mouth, the strong cursed energy began to vanish.

It was subtle at first, like the fading scent of something foul in the air, but soon, it became clear that what should have been an overpowering force now felt faint, practically gone.

Yuji frowned, his senses alert. “It’s weaker. Shouldn’t it be getting stronger as we get closer?”

Nobara’s irritation grew. “I swear if we came all this way for nothing—”

Before she could finish, Gojo came to a sudden stop, his blindfolded gaze fixed on a small clearing ahead. The students followed his line of sight, and that’s when they saw you. Gojo’s eyes, even beneath that blindfold, were locked onto you.

—

You sat in the clearing, your body frozen with fear and cold. The forest around you was dark, the shadows stretching and twisting unnaturally. You had no memory of how you ended up here; the only thought that was present in your mind was that you were scared and disoriented. 

Your hands trembled as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to make sense of the situation. You were a relatively calm and happy person, but as of late things had been changing, although, your memory seemed to be fading more rapidly the more you thought about it.

Footsteps approached, and your body tensed, instinctively curling tighter. The voice that spoke was startlingly bright, almost cheerful, not fitting the heavy atmosphere of the forest at all.

“Well, what do we have here?”

The man who spoke was tall, his white hair glowing faintly in the dim light. His face was obscured by a black blindfold, but there was an intensity in his demeanour that you couldn’t ignore. He crouched in front of you, his tone oddly reassuring despite the circumstances. 

“Are you alright?” he asked gently.

You opened your mouth to speak, but your voice caught in your throat. Fear and confusion overwhelmed you, making it hard to form words. You managed a slight shake of your head, your body trembling under the weight of everything you couldn’t remember.

Gojo studied you, his expression unreadable behind the blindfold, but there was a certain softness in his tone. “Interesting,” he murmured to himself, his words more for his own contemplation than anyone else’s.

Behind him, the first-years approached cautiously. Megumi’s gaze was sharp, scrutinizing you closely. Yuji and Nobara exchanged uncertain glances, their confusion and concern growing with each passing second.

Gojo straightened, his playful demeanour replaced by a more serious edge. “What is your name?” he said leaning in closer to your face. 

You finally managed to get words out, not much above a whisper, as this white haired man was only inches from your face, “I-I’m y/n, y/n y/l/n.” 

He nodded once and stood up swiftly, causing you to flinch. “Well hello y/n!” He said flashing a wide grin at you. “I am Satoru Gojo! A legendary sorcerer, if I might add.” He said proudly, provoking a loud sigh from Nobara. 

He hinged at the hips and switched his tone back to a more serious one. “What are you doing here in this forest, doesn’t seem like a nice place to camp for a young girl like you” He asked you, and boy did you wish you had an answer. 

“I don’t know…” You loosened the tight grip you had around your legs. “I, I really don’t remember anything at all, not from the past few weeks at least.” 

Gojo looked at you intensely straightening his spine as he stood up straight, ‘Her eyes, they’re so…’ he quickly interrupted his thoughts and glanced at the the dark haird boy. “Megumi, can you sense any cursed energy from her?”

Megumi closed his eyes, concentrating on the surrounding area. His frown deepened. “Nothing of significance. Whatever cursed energy we felt here a few minutes ago, it’s gone now.”

Gojo turned back to you, crouching once more. His hand extended toward you, a kind but firm gesture. “Let’s get you somewhere safe. We can figure this out.”

You hesitated for a moment, your fear warring with the overwhelming relief that someone was offering help. Slowly, you reached out and took his hand. 

The touch was warm and steady, a small comfort in the midst of your disorientation.

As Gojo helped you to your feet, your mind raced. Who were these people? How had you ended up in this situation? 

And why couldn’t you remember anything from the last few days? The only thing you were sure of was that you had always been able to see curses—creatures others couldn’t perceive, lurking just beyond the edges of reality. But this? This was something entirely different.

You swallowed hard, gathering the courage to speak. “I don’t… I don’t remember how I got here,” you admitted, your voice still barely above a whisper. “I’ve always been able to see curses, but this… I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Gojo tilted his head, his expression unreadable beneath the blindfold. “No memory, huh?” He sounded curious but not judgmental. “Well, we’ll figure that out.”

—

Back at Jujutsu High, the atmosphere was tense. You were seated in a room, surrounded by people you barely knew, all of them sorcerers far more skilled than you could ever hope to be. The tests began almost immediately. 

Every inch of your story was picked apart, your memory—or lack thereof—under scrutiny. They questioned you about the forest, about the curses, about anything that could provide a clue.

One by one, the sorcerers took turns assessing you. They used techniques, spells, and devices you couldn’t begin to comprehend, all in an attempt to uncover something—anything—that could explain your presence in that cursed clearing.

It was gruelling, mentally and emotionally exhausting. You answered the same questions over and over again, your frustration and mental fatigue climbing with each repetition. The truth was simple: you had no memory of what had happened. 

And yet, the interrogations persisted, leaving you feeling more confused and overwhelmed by the second.

Gojo watched silently from the sidelines, his usual playful demeanour replaced by something quieter, more contemplative. His eyes—hidden behind the blindfold—never left you. The longer the tests dragged on, the more something about the entire situation seemed off to him.

Beside him, Principal Yaga and another special grade sorcerer, and Utahime Iori, continued their assessment. Utahime frowned as she used her ability to sense the flow of your cursed energy—or lack thereof.

“She doesn’t seem to be lying,” Utahime said softly, more to herself than anyone else. “But there’s something odd about this. It’s like there’s a barrier, something we can’t quite break through.”

Yaga crossed his arms, his expression stern. “We need to cover all possibilities. She could still be hiding something.”

As the tests continued, you felt yourself growing more drained. The sorcerers probed deeper into your mind, looking for gaps, inconsistencies—anything to suggest you weren’t telling the truth. But no matter how hard they pushed, your story remained the same. You didn’t know. You didn’t remember.

The pressure mounted until, finally, Gojo stepped forward, his voice cutting through the room with an authority you had yet to hear from him. “That’s enough.”

The suddenness of his command startled everyone, even Yaga, who raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Gojo, we need to make sure—”

“She’s not lying,” Gojo interrupted, his voice firm. “There’s minimal cursed energy coming from her, and she clearly has no memory of what happened. We’re not going to find any answers by grilling her like this.”

Utahime glanced at Gojo, her expression curious. “You’re sure about this?”

Gojo turned toward her, his grin returning, though it lacked its usual mischief. “I’m the strongest sorcerer, aren’t I? Just trust me.”

Yaga still seemed skeptical, but after a long pause, he sighed and relented. “Fine. We’ll stop for now. But we still need to figure out what she was doing in that forest. Especially since a veil was drawn…”

Gojo gave a small nod of satisfaction, then turned his attention back to you. His expression softened. “You’ve been through enough today. Let’s get you some rest.”

As the other sorcerers began to disperse, the first-years remained behind, exchanging confused glances. Yuji was the first to speak, his voice low but curious. “It’s not like Gojo-sensei to be this… invested, right?”

Nobara crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah, it’s weird. He’s acting different.”

Megumi, ever perceptive, watched Gojo closely. “He’s unpredictable, but this is definitely unusual.”

Gojo, sensing the shift in the room, flashed his signature grin, waving off their concerns with a casual hand. “Don’t get any weird ideas, kids. I’m just looking out for someone who got caught up in a bad situation. That’s all.”

But even as he dismissed their concerns, Gojo couldn’t shake the thoughts swirling in his mind. There was something about you that unsettled him—something beyond the circumstances of your discovery in the forest. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it gnawed at him, refusing to be ignored.

He wanted to be closer to you. To understand why, of all the strange and dangerous things he’d encountered, you had managed to occupy so much space in his thoughts. 

—

The next morning, you awoke in a small room within the Jujutsu High compound. The soft light of dawn filtered through the windows, casting the space in a gentle glow. Despite the calm atmosphere, your mind was anything but settled.

You had been told to stay here until they figured out what had happened to you. 

While the thought of staying at Jujutsu High was daunting, you couldn’t deny the strange sense of safety you felt, knowing that Gojo was nearby. In addition to this, there was nothing waiting for you back in Tokyo, you’ve always been alone, and as a 24 year old girl, it was not the most exiting life to live. 

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. It opened before you had a chance to respond, and Gojo stepped inside, his usual playful expression firmly in place.

“Morning,” he said cheerfully, leaning casually against the doorframe. “How are you feeling?”

You hesitated before answering, still unsure of how to navigate this strange new world you’d been thrust into. “Confused,” you admitted softly. “But… better, I guess.”

Gojo nodded, stepping further into the room. “Good to hear. We’ve decided to keep you around for a while.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Keep me around?”

“Yep,” Gojo confirmed with a grin. “You barely have any cursed energy, and you clearly don’t know how you ended up in that forest. But until we can figure out what happened, it’s safer for you to stay here, where we can keep an eye on things.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of the situation settling in your chest. “So… what happens now?”

Gojo’s grin softened slightly, and for the briefest moment, his playful facade cracked, revealing something more genuine beneath. “For now? You’ll help out around the school. Get to know the students, maybe even learn a bit about how we handle curses.”

He paused, his tone becoming more serious. “And I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and it seemed to catch Gojo off guard too. You had only known him for a short time, but something about the way he spoke to you made you believe him. 

There was a depth to his words that you hadn’t expected, a promise that went beyond the typical duties of a sorcerer.

And as Gojo left the room, you couldn’t help but wonder why he seemed so determined to protect you.

—

As the days passed, the curiosity surrounding Gojo’s sudden attentiveness only grew. The first-years, in particular, found it strange how their usually carefree and unpredictable teacher seemed to go out of his way to check on you.

Yuji, ever the optimist, chalked it up to Gojo’s natural inclination to help people in need. “He’s just looking out for her. You know how he is.”

Nobara, however, wasn’t convinced. “It’s more than that. He’s never this focused on one person. It’s weird.”

Even Megumi, though more reserved in his judgments, couldn’t deny the oddness of Gojo’s behaviour. “There’s something going on. He’s not acting like himself.”

Gojo, of course, dismissed all their concerns with a wave of his hand and his usual grin. “You’re all overthinking it. I’m just making sure she doesn’t get into any more trouble.”

But no matter how many times he deflected their questions, the truth was something Gojo couldn’t even admit to himself. The more time he spent around you, the more he found his thoughts drifting back to that clearing in the forest—the way you had looked so lost, so vulnerable, but still so strong.

He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about you that pulled at him, something that made him want to be closer.

And for the first time in a long while, Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer in the world—felt something…almost like uncertainty.

Days turned into weeks, and you slowly adjusted to life at Jujutsu High. The students, though initially unsure about your presence, began to warm up to you. 

Yuji, with his endless optimism and genuine kindness, was the first to make you feel welcome, even though he was almost a decade younger than you. He’d often drop by to chat, always trying to lighten the mood with stories of his own awkward experiences as a novice in the world of jujutsu sorcery.

Nobara, though more distant at first, soon took to you as well. She admired your strength or at least the fact that you were handling your situation without falling apart completely. "I respect that," she said one day with a shrug. "Not everyone could be thrown into this and not lose their mind."

Megumi was the hardest to read. His sharp, critical gaze often lingered on you, as though he was still assessing whether or not you were truly a threat. But over time, his cold demeanour thawed, and though he didn’t openly show it, there were moments where you could tell he had begun to trust you—or at least tolerate your presence.

However, it was Gojo who remained the most enigmatic. He would check in on you often, always with his playful grin and teasing remarks. 

But there was something beneath the surface, something you couldn’t quite place. His visits were frequent, his concern palpable, but he never pushed. 

Whenever you asked him why he was so invested in helping you, he would just shrug it off, offering a casual, "I’m the strongest, remember? It’s my job to make sure nothing happens to you."

But even you could see that there was more to it. His presence was constant, and no matter how much he tried to play it off, there was a tension between you—something unspoken but undeniable. 

The first-years noticed it too, though none of them dared to say anything directly to him. Yuji, ever the optimist, thought it was just Gojo being protective, but Nobara and Megumi weren’t as easily convinced.

One evening, as you sat in the common room, absentmindedly flipping through a book Yuji had recommended, Gojo appeared, leaning against the doorway with his usual smirk.

"Reading? I’m impressed," he teased, strolling into the room without invitation. "What’s the book?"

You glanced up, meeting his blindfolded gaze. "Just something Yuji thought I’d like. It’s… fine."

Gojo chuckled, dropping down onto the couch beside you, far too close for what most would consider appropriate. His casual attitude about personal space had long since become something you were used to, though it still made your heart race a little faster each time.

"I was just checking on you," he said lightly. "Make sure you're not too bored here."

You raised an eyebrow. "Bored? After all the tests and constant probing into my memory? Yeah, I’d say I could use a bit more excitement."

His smile softened, just a touch. "Those tests were tough on you, huh?"

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "They were necessary, I guess. I don’t blame them for wanting answers. I want answers, too."

Silence stretched between you for a moment, the air thick with unspoken tension. Then, to your surprise, Gojo spoke again, his tone more serious than you’d ever heard it before.

"You’re handling all of this pretty well," he said quietly. "Most people wouldn’t be as calm about it."

You turned to face him fully, searching for the meaning behind his words. "I’m not sure if I’d call it calm. I’m just trying to… survive, I guess."

Gojo tilted his head, his smile still in place but his voice softer. "You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, you know."

Something about his words made your chest tighten and your eyes lifted above the page of your book, stunned. A warmth began to spread through you that you didn’t quite understand. Why was he being so kind? So attentive?

Before you could respond, the door to the common room creaked open, and Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi appeared, clearly having overheard at least part of the conversation. Yuji’s bright smile lit up the room, but there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

"Are we interrupting something?" Nobara asked, her tone playful but her gaze sharp as she looked between you and Gojo.

Gojo leaned back, waving his hand dismissively. "Nope, just checking in on our guest. You know, making sure she’s not too lonely."

Yuji chuckled, but Nobara wasn’t fooled. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she leaned closer to Megumi, whispering something that made him roll his eyes.

Megumi, always the most perceptive, shot Gojo a questioning look. "You’re being unusually… protective."

Gojo’s grin widened, but his tone remained light. "What can I say? I decided I’d try and be a nice guy this year, a New Years resolution thing, ya know?."

But Megumi wasn’t satisfied with that answer. "It’s not like you to take such a personal interest in someone who isn’t a sorcerer."

There it was—the suspicion that had been bubbling under the surface for weeks. Those words hurt a bit. 

You knew you weren’t of much importance compared to everyone here, but it was harsh to hear out loud. The first-years weren’t blind. They had seen how Gojo had gone out of his way to ensure you were safe, how his visits to check on you had become more frequent, more personal.

Gojo, for once, seemed caught off guard by the directness of the question. He shrugged, his grin never faltering. "What can I say? I like keeping things interesting."

But as the first-years exchanged glances, it was clear that none of them believed his nonchalance. There was more to it—there had to be. But none of them pressed the issue further.

After they left, the room grew quiet once more, and you could feel the weight of Gojo’s attention on you. For the first time, it felt like he wasn’t hiding behind his usual playful demeanour. There was something deeper in his gaze, something that made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

"You should get some rest," he said finally, his voice low. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

As he stood to leave, you found yourself wanting to say something—anything to break the tension. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you watched as he left the room, the door clicking softly behind him.

And as the silence settled around you, one thought echoed in your mind: why did it feel like you were missing something important? 

—

Later that night, as Gojo lay in his quarters, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind. The confusion, the vulnerability, the strength you didn’t even realize you had—it all stirred something in him that he couldn’t quite explain.

For someone as powerful as Gojo, emotions had always been a distant second to his duties as a sorcerer. But with you, it was different. There was something about you that made him want to protect you, to keep you close.

But more than that, he wanted to understand you. To know what it was that drew him to you in the first place.

And as he closed his eyes, one thought lingered in his mind: he wasn’t sure what it was about you, but he was certain of one thing.

He couldn’t stay away from you.

━

Author's Note II: I hope you enjoyed this first chapter!! Please feel free to send me any feedback or comments you have! Many more chapters to come soon, and this series will eventually become...18+ so read at your own discretion :)

Cheers!

[dark-fics-4-you]

step bro rafe who plays football or hockey. idk it just seems hot🙏

Number One Fan

I’m gonna combine this with this request: Something with step bro rafe where the reader calls him rafey and it turns him on but she doesn’t know…

(This can be read as a continuation of my previous step bro!Rafe fic, but i’m not sure if I want to make a bunch of drabbles or one connected narrative so we’ll see what happpens ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Next chapter

Warnings: drinking, relationship between step siblings, rafe is having unpure thoughts👀

The stadium was packed with college students and fans, roaring as the whistle blew.

You were close to the field, eager to get a good view of Rafe. He was the star quarterback of East Carolina University, and for good reason.

He had led the team to victory in all 10 of their last games.

The score was evened out, with only a few seconds left on the clock, everyone was eager to see what would happen next.

When the whistle blew again and the ball was passed to Rafe, you cheered loudly.

He dodged two players, dancing around them before running all the way to the endzone.

Everyone on the crowded bleachers jumped to their feet, cheering and screaming at the touchdown, but no one was louder than you.

“Go Rafe! Go!! Woo!!!”

You beamed proudly as you watched him pump his fist in the air, fist bumping his teammates as they congratulated him.

You were one of the first people to rush to the field, running up to your older brother and practically jumping on him in your excitement to hug him.

“Oh my god, Rafey! That was such a good game!” You squealed. “You were awesome! That last touchdown was amazing!”

Rafe flashed you a grin, perfect teeth winking in under the bright lights of the stadium. “Thanks, Y/N/N. You know I win every game just for you,” he joked and you giggled along.

“Hey, some of my teammates and I are gonna go out for drinks after we get cleaned up, wanna tag along?”

“Sure!” You smiled up at him. You were always happy when he included you in things he was doing, which admittedly was a lot of the time.

“Perfect, sugar. Here are my keys,” he tossed you them. “Why don’t you bring the truck around to where the locker room exit is, you can wait in there till I’m done. Okay?”

“Yeah! Sounds good!” You parted ways, heading to the truck but you didn’t notice how his gaze stayed on your back as you walked away.

~~~~~~

“That’s a pretty hot piece of ass you had hanging around you, Cameron,” one of Rafe’s friends joked, suggestively nudging the blond with his elbow.

“Shut up, Wilson,” Rafe snapped. His stomach lurched at the comment. He didn’t like the idea of any of his friends trying to sleep with you.

In fact, he didn’t like the idea of anyone trying to sleep with you. The very thought made him sick.

“Hey, I’m just saying, I wouldn’t mind if she came around more, amiright?” Wilson asked the other guys around him that had seen you and they all laughed and nodded.

“Knock it off, seriously,” Rafe warned. “She’s not interested.” He could feel his irritation rising, his face heating up.

“Damn okay Cameron, chill. We were just joking,” someone else interjected.

“Well I’m not fucking laughing.” He pulled on his shirt before slamming the locker door. “I don’t think I’m gonna go out tonight anymore. See ya at practice.”

A few guys complained, “come on Rafe, we didn’t mean anything by it.”

But he was already halfway out the door.

~~~~~~

“Change of plans,” Rafe said as he climbed into the driver’s seat and you clicked your buckle.

You looked at him inquisitively. “Oh?”

“We’re gonna go out, just the two of us. None of the guys.” He started the truck, pulling out of the parking lot and towards the road.

“Oh, okay.” You said in a confused tone. “Why are they not coming?”

He was silent for a moment and you glanced at him again.

“Rafey?”

“I just decided that I’d rather go out with my favorite girl instead,” he said with a smile, ruffling your hair and you grinned.

“Oh, okay!” You said happily. “Ooh could we go to this bar that I know, it’s on Seventh street.” You babbled away about the bar you wanted to go to.

Rafe shifted in his seat, trying as hard as possible to hide his growing erection, nodding along but he was finding it hard to pay attention to anything you were saying, attention shifting between watching the road, and turning to examine your features.

He pulled up to the bar and you hopped out of the car. You both showed your ID’s at the door and found a booth to sit at, Rafe pulling you in to the same side he was on so you could be closer.

A waiter came to get your drink orders, you got a fruity cocktail and Rafe got a beer, and Rafe ordered a plate of loaded nachos for you to share.

Your drinks came quickly and you offered Rafe a sip of your cocktail, which he took before offering you a sip of his beer.

You took a quick swig, face scrunching up at the flavor. “Bleh, I still have no idea how you like beer so much, Rafey!” You giggled, leaning against him in the small booth, his arm wrapped around your waist.

“You get used to it if you drink enough, Y/N/N.” The blond laughed, grabbing a nacho off of the plate in between the two of you.

“I just think it’s so gross,” you shook your head, smiling.

“Please, you’re one to talk. I still remember that time you tried to make mixed drinks for us at that party and they sucked so bad I nearly threw up.” He chuckled.

“Shut up! I got better afterwards!” You laughed hard at the memory. “So mean, Rafey,” you said with a fake pout.

“Not true, I’m always nice to you, Y/N/N,” Rafe sounded surprisingly earnest. “You know I would do anything for you.”

“I know, I know,” you finished your cocktail, catching the waiter’s eye before ordering a second.

You leaned back, melting into your step brother’s arms.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” Rafe whispered quietly. “You know that, right?”

There was a strange moment when you met his eyes, odd feelings washed over you. The intensity in his look stirred something in you that you couldn’t identify.

“Yeah I know, Rafey. You’re my favorite person too.”

He smiled at that, pulling you closer to his warm body. You cuddled against his chest, enjoying the circles he was tracing lazily into your back with his fingers.

Your second drink arrived and you downed it quickly, feeling a little beyond tipsy by the time the two of you stepped out of the bar.

He drove you home, comfortable silence most of the way. You felt warm and the alcohol in your system made you feel much more affectionate.

Rafe opened the front door of the house for you, allowing you to lean on him drunkenly as he guided you inside.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused, not wanting to go to bed alone.

“Would it be okay if I slept in your bed tonight, Rafey?” You asked, looking up at your step brother with hopeful eyes. “I just feel more comfortable when you’re by me.”

“Sure, Y/N/N.” Rafe smiled at you, leading you to his room.

You kicked off your shoes, taking your shorts off before dropping them on the floor. “Do you have a shirt I could wear, Rafey?”

His eyes fell on you, noting your bare legs and the pink panties you had under your shorts. His mouth felt dry, and it took him a second to remember you had just asked him a question.

“Um, yeah I should have one…” he searched in a drawer, before tossing you the oversized shirt.

You pulled it on, unclipping your bra underneath the shirt before putting it with your shorts and top.

Rafe kicked off his shorts, stripping to his boxers before pulling his shirt off over his head. He stepped towards his door, flicking the lights off.

You crawled into his bed, breathing in his smell in the sheets, scooting over when he followed.

Usually when you slept in Rafe’s bed, you were the one who pressed to him, hugging his back as he faced away from you, but this time, you were surprised when you felt the warmth of his chest press to your back, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

As you dozed off to sleep, you were none the wiser that your step brother was beside you, hard as a rock, and imagining things that were far from brotherly.

Chapter 2

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Eleven

I may have taken my sweet time writing this, but in my defense, the Felix smut was what my brain wanted to write first, and then life got to me and made me really busy. And here I am, finishing this fic at 3am in the morning lol. But have fun with the chaos of this fic hehe.

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader  Summary: We see the aftermath and chaos of the company's decision, plus y/n gets some much needed comfort. Oh, and a reveal! wc: 1.8k AU: a/b/o  Genre: Fluff/Angst  warnings: fighting and slapping, threats, angst, slut-shaming and derogatory talk towards y/n, use of the words slut,pussy, whore, etc., lots of misogyny in this chapter folks, and a bunch of like derogatory talk about omegas that is absolutely misogynistic and sexist, lots of cursing, implications that people would take advantage of others, disassociating kinda, shitty people being called the names they deserve, this should be everything masterlist

The fighting went on, it seemingly would never end as insults and angry words kept being thrown back and forth. Ateez and their management yelled back and forth over who had the decision making power over the new member, and for the most part, the auditionees just watched it all happen. What could they do? Nothing. They were just the pawns in the game, really, if one thought about it.

“You said we could have the ability to pick the final member out of that group! We don’t want anyone but y/n!” Wooyoung yelled, getting in the face of one of the staff members, having to be pulled away by Mingi and Yunho.

“I will take all of my members, and we’ll leave KQ, if you continue to insist on your pick for the ninth member. I am not above leaving. We,” Hongjoong said as he gestured to the rest of Ateez, “are not above leaving. I don’t think you want to test how far you can push us before we push back.” He said, his words a thinly veiled threat.

“Who would take you? They don’t want an established group.” The staff member who started all of this stated.

“I can think of a few companies who would gladly take us. You forget we’re a group that has a very large international audience, which is what companies want nowadays.” Hongjoong said, almost too calmly.

“We’ll leave, take everything we can with us, and we’ll go start somewhere else. Atiny will follow us, they like us, not you.” Hongjoong spelled it out for the staff members, who quickly realized that they might want to back down on this.

“God, is your pussy really that great that they’ll go to bat for you like this? Well, I guess a slut like you knows how to please, honestly that’s all omega’s are good for, anyways. Just a quick fuck, nothing more.” She heard the voice speak again, and this time it was louder, since she saw some of the other auditionees’ heads turn. She would have turned to look at who it was, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of the idols across the table.

It was apparent to the others, though not to the y/n nor the person behind her, that not only had the other auditionees’ heard those words, but so had a member of the group. Before anyone could process the idol’s actions, Jongho had launched himself across the room and tackled whoever had been sitting behind her, the two landing on the floor with a thump. This stopped any fighting in its tracks.

“You want to say that again?” Jongho growled as he pinned the other person to the floor, teeth bared.

“Y-You heard me.” They said, a stutter appearing as they tried to mask any fear of the beta on top of them.

“I would bet that you’re also the person who leaked those pictures to Dispatch. Since you’re so intent on being jealous that you weren’t picked.” The maknae idol deduced.

“And if I did? What are you going to do about it?” They taunted him, somehow overcoming their fear.

“Jongho, get off of him. Now.” Hongjoong ordered, moving over to where the maknae was.

“No.”

“Jongho, now.”

“He was telling lies to y/n. Telling her that she and omegas were only good for a quick fuck, and that we were only fighting for her because she was good in bed. His words were more vulgar, and I won’t repeat them.” Jongho said, never looking away from the target of his rage.

“It’s not a lie. Omegas are only good for fucking, that’s it. That’s their purpose in life, is to be good little broodmares for betas and alphas. Besides, what talent does she have, she’s barely done anything while we’ve been here, and has only monopolized the attention of all of you.” They spat out, glaring over at y/n before their view of her was replaced with Mingi.

Hongjoong turned to look at the staff and managers with a murderous look on his face. They really wanted someone like this, to become part of Ateez? “You wanted a disgusting piece of shit like this, to become a member of Ateez? Someone who will look down on his fellow members because of their subgender? You were going to let someone like this interact with Atiny, and based on his words, probably abuse power as an idol to take advantage of them?” He raged, his voice becoming increasingly louder until he was shouting at them.

The staff tried to stammer out excuses, claiming they knew nothing of the beta’s opinions. It was clear to everyone that none of the idols believed the words coming out of their managers’ mouths, though to his credit, their main manager didn’t say anything, just sat down and stayed quiet while the others talked out of their asses. In return for his silence, he received disappointed looks from the eight idols, half of whom were still filled with rage against the beta and the others.

Wooyoung rushed over to y/n’s side once the shock and anger of the situation was pushed aside in favor of concern for his omega baby. Placing his hands on her shoulders to turn her to face him, as she still spaced out.

“Baby omega, c’mon come look at me,” he pleaded. “It’s okay, so come back to me, to us.”

His words, plus his scent of flowers and cinnamon turning slightly burnt as he worried, brought y/n back to the present. She looked over at the other omega, whose face was filled with worry.

“Wooyoung-ssi?” She asked, still a bit dazed from her intense focus on what was now just an empty spot in the room.

“Hi baby omega, how are you feeling?” He asked her, as the others looked over at the two of them.

“God, I knew it from the moment that the hag of an omega dragged you away, that you were an attention whore.” The beta cut in, making everyone’s heads’ snap to him.

Y/n’s face dropped as she realized who exactly said that, but she couldn’t get a word in before the sound of a slap rang out. Mingi had stepped forward, kneeling down and slapping the beta’s cheek so hard that a bruise had already started to form.

“Aaron, why are you like this? You were so nice to me.” Y/n asked, confused.

“Because you’ve done nothing to deserve anything you’ve gotten here. I’ve worked my ass off for years, and I’ve been passed over in favor of omegas. Because of your kind, I can’t get anything, omegas are always the ones chosen for things, never betas. I deserve this. I’m way more talented than you are, and I’m not a fucking whore who sleeps her way into the team. I don’t monopolize Ateez’s attention, not like you have. You got private sessions with San and Yunho, I saw it. And fuck it was amazing to see how much hate you’re still getting for it. You should just go back home, y’know, and be the little omega housewife, because that’s all you’re good for.” Aaron goes off on a rant, inadvertently revealing that he was the one that leaked the photos to Dispatch.

The anger in the room was palpable, and y/n wasn’t the only one to shrink in on herself because of it. Wooyoung held her tighter, his arms snaking around her to pull her closer, as the two of them watched the others crowd around the three on the floor, as they noticed that the staff ushered the other auditionees out of the conference room.

“So, you’re the one who put my members’ careers at risk, and put them in the middle of a scandal? You’re the one who made my members worried and stressed because you’re jealous that another person, that wasn’t you, caught our eye? Y’know, it's fitting that it’s you. You look as pathetic as you actually are. Only someone who knows they’re inadequate stoops so low as to bring others down to their level. You’re passed over in favor of omegas, because they’re obviously better than you. And y/n is one of those omegas.” Hongjoong said, his words filled with condescension towards Aaron. “Say goodbye to any chance of making it in the industry, here or back home. Word gets around about bad people.” The captain finished.

Seonghwa turned to the staff that remained in the room. “If you don’t get security here within the next few minutes, and make sure he’s escorted back to his room so he can pack up and then driven to the airport to fly back to whatever dump he’s from, we will take it into our hands. I don’t think you want the media, or Atiny, knowing that you were going to let someone who tried to ruin two members of Ateez, into the group. Nor will the police be happy if they find out that they were deceived, if any of you knew about what he had done, to not only San and Yunho, but to an innocent person in all of this.”

Yeosang, normally not one to be overly touchy feely when things are stressful, moved over to Wooyoung and y/n, in need of comfort from his omega friend. Wooyoung immediately noticed and pulled the alpha close, the now trio taking comfort in one another. The two men silently communicated, both hoping that management would fail in the task given to them, so that the stain on the floor would be dragged out by police instead. They were disappointed when security rushed into the room, and once Jongho had pulled away from the beta, the team of security guards led the disgraced auditionee out of the conference room, and away from the lives of the now nine members of Ateez.

Hongjoong was quick to collect the rest of the group, including y/n, and bid goodbye to the staff members, not sparing them another glace as he led his group out into the hallway. Y/n was pushed into the middle of their protective circle, with Seonghwa and Wooyoung on either side, and Mingi behind the trio to bring up the rear as the others surrounded the trio of omegas. The group of nine were led to the practice room, as it was the easiest and quickest place to regroup.

Once everyone was settled in the room, most sprawled out on the floor, including y/n whose head was laid in Yeosang’s lap as the man ran his hands through her hair, silence settled over the group as everyone processed what had just occurred. That silence lasted until the youngest omega shot up, almost hitting Yeosang’s chin, as she realized exactly what the group had been fighting for in the first place.

“Wait. You want me to be the ninth member of Ateez?!” She shouted out, in complete shock.

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[redstarwriting]

the clash | x. brand new

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings:  language, insults, mentions of everything that happened in the story, almost fainting, soft hobie, big fluff energy, essentially just a fun lil chapter above everything else to wash away the angst

a/n: AND IT'S OVER!! i'm actually crying a bit this was so fun to write. it will not be the end! you can all bet your asses i'll be working on a sequel for this duo. thank you to everyone who supported the story and my writing. you made the return back to this blog unforgettable and i am so grateful for all of you 🖤 please enjoy the last chapter of 'the clash'

previous chapter: ix. last caress

now reading: x. brand new

end.

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After about 3 more days, you were feeling much better. Hobie was too, as he didn’t need to keep giving blood. In fact, the two of you were basically back to your normal selves. And much to Hobie’s relief, changing your molecular biology did not take away your spider powers. So now he had a partner in crime. Or partner in crime fighting?

Nah, partner in crime sounds better.

“Ready to go, love?” Hobie asks, pouring some food into Shadow’s bowl before closing the bag and webbing it to the ceiling. Shadow runs and starts chomping and Hobie grins, giving him a few pets. “Ready, babe,” you say, coming into to the room. Hobie stands and looks at you, letting out a long whistle. “You look stunnin’,” he says, looking you up and down. You twirl around, showing off how your spider suit looks in the style of his world. Your mask wask lost, so you had to make a new one, but that was no problem. You and Hobie fixed it up, and you gave in to Hobie’s pleas to make it resemble his a bit. Only a bit. You’re still Spider-Goth after all.

He walks over to you and wraps his arms around you. “The spiked choker is a nice touch, who convinced you to put that on? And the studs on your mask? Whoever helped you add them seems like a smart bloke,” he smirks. “You know he’s more of a smartass, but I guess I don’t hate it. The spider charm on the choker is a nice touch,” you say, taking the mask off and winking at him. “You not hatin’ somethin’? Now that is bloody mental.”

“Look who’s talking,” you say and he grins, giving your lips a quick peck before pulling away from you. “Haven’t the foggiest what you’re talkin’ bout, love.” He types on his watch and pulls up Earth-2099, the portal appearing in front of the two of you.

“I’m still so surprised Gwen, Miles, and Pav didn’t try to come to see us this whole time,” you say, and Hobie shrugs. “So am I, but I reckon they understood you were close to dyin’. And I may have threatened them that I’d kill ‘em if they came and woke you up at any point. Guess they took me seriously,” he says, and you playfully smack his arm. “Of course they took you seriously! You literally killed yourself for me, and that was before we even–”

“Fancied each other yeah, yeah, I know,” he cuts you off, grinning at you. “Ready?” he asks again, making sure you’re up to seeing everyone. You nod, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Off we go, then,” he says as the two of you walk through the portal, ending up in Miguel’s hub. “Lemme know if you feel sick or anythin’, yeah? We’ll go right back home,” he says, and you nod. “Thanks, babe,” you say, and he places a quick peck on the top of your head. The two of you walk out and multiple spider-people greet you and welcome you back. “I feel offended none of them have complimented you on your new look,” he says, and you laugh. “Relax, Hobie, I’m sure Miles will be so jealous.”

“And that’s all that matters,” he says, and you shake your head. “You know it would be so faster if we webbed to the common room,” you suggest, and he shakes his head. “Absolutely fuckin’ not. Have you lost the plot? You’re doin’ better, yeah, but you ain’t close to healed. We’re takin’ things nice and slow,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Getting used to the way you talk is gonna take a minute,” you say, shaking your head and he rolls his eyes. “I called you mental just now. Crazy, insane, unhinged–”

“Got it, you fuckin’ tosser,” you imitate his accent, and he removes his arm from your shoulder, giving you an offended look. “Do you know what to just said to me?”

“Nope, but the plan worked, bye!” you say, waving and webbing away. “HEY! BLOODY HELL!” you hear him scream, webbing after you. Even though you haven’t been in action for about a week, you’re still way faster than him. You laugh as he tries to catch up, but you slip out of his grasp every time. A lot of spiders see this happening and are relieved and happy to see the two of you back and wreaking havoc amongst each other. You beat him to the common room, landing and waiting for him. He lands right next to you a few second after you. “Are you bloody mad?!” he says, clearly exasperated, “I told you not to do that yet! What if you sparked out?!”

“Well, whatever that means, I didn’t.”

“Bloody fainted! What if you did?!”

“Relax, I’m not going to– oh, shit,” you suddenly feel very dizzy, and he wraps his arms around you to keep you from falling. “See. This is the shit I was tryin’ to avoid, but no. You had to go and be a bloody daftie,” he mumbles, and you giggle. “Your reaction was worth it.”

“Oh, I bet it was, ya fuckin’ muppet,” he rolls his eyes, and you grin at him. “Do you feel well enough to stand?”

“Probably but I like it better when you’re like this,” you say, and he gives you an unamused look. “Right, then,” he says, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder. You loudly protest. “Nuh uh, don’t give me that now, love,” he turns his attention towards the room, and to his chagrin sees Pavitr recording it on his phone. He rolls his eyes and plops you down on the couch. “Don’t move.”

“I do what I want.”

“Not today, you don’t.”

“Glad to see the two of you haven’t changed at all. Nice new suit, by the way, (Y/n),” Miles says, and Hobie sits next to you, placing his arm on the back of the couch behind you as you chirp out a thank you to Miles. “Why would we?” Hobie says, and Miles stares at him, dumbfounded. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you went feral just to protect their ass and they nearly died because of it and then you nearly died trying to save them after they nearly died and then we nearly died trying to help you so that they didn’t nearly die,” Miles says, and Gwen looks at him, nodding. “Nice description.”

“Thanks,” Miles says, smiling at her. Hobie shrugs, looking at you. “All in a day’s work of bein’ Spider-Man,” he says, and you snort. “You’re impossible, Hobie,” you say, leaning against his shoulder. His arm slides from the couch to having it lazily rest around your shoulders. “Good,” he says with a small smile. “Pav, stop taking pictures,” Gwen says, and he shakes his head. “How can I not?! I have been calling this since the first minute they interacted, you all called me crazy, I’m not crazy! I knew it!”

“Congrats, you want a prize?” Hobie says, and Pav smiles. “Yes, actually, I do. I’m aware you’re probably being sarcastic, but I believe I deserve some sort of recognition for recognizing what you two really were,” he says, and you laugh. “You’re the most emotionally intelligent of us all, Pav,” you say, and he nods. “You’re right. I so am,” he says, and Gwen smiles at the two of you. “I’m happy for you two.”

“Thanks, Gwen,” you say, and Hobie softly grins at you. “Woah! Look who’s back!” Peter B. Parker’s voice rings out as he lands next to you all. Mayday reaches you for you, and Peter hands her over. She gives you a little hug, and you smile. “And Hobie with his arm around you, nice. Nice. Nothing brings you and your partner together like a near-death experience. Trust me, I would know,” he says, and Hobie raises an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t that almost ruin your–”

“Welp, this was a nice talk,” he says, webbing Mayday back to him, and putting her in her carrier. “Catch you later, kids,” he says, webbing away with a short squeal from Mayday. “He is so fuckin’ odd,” Hobie mumbles, and you laugh. “It’s cute how much he loves MJ, though. The definition of til death do us part,” you say, and Hobie glances at you. “Yeah… but not as cute as us,” he whispers in your ear, causing you to look at him with a smile. “Nah, what did you just say to them?” Miles says, and Hobie shrugs. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says, and Miles rolls his eyes. “Nah, man, that’s not fair. Share with the class,” Miles says, and Pavitr sighs loudly, shaking his head. “Please Miles. It’s simply the way a boyfriend speaks to his partner.”

“Woah, now, who said I was their boyfriend?” Hobie asks, and they all look at him like he’s just grown a second head. “WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TELLING ME YOU TWO ARE NOT DATING AFTER EVERYTHING THAT HAS JUST HAPPENED?!” Pav shrieks at the same time as Miles yelling, “OH, I DON’T KNOW MAN, MAYBE THE FACT THAT Y’ALL LIVE TOGETHER AND ARE ALL UP ON EACH OTHER RIGHT NOW?”

“Chill,” Hobie says, putting the palm of his hand out and you snort. “We hate labels, guys.”

“It’s more of a ‘they’re mine’ and ‘I’m theirs’ typa thing,” Hobie says. “You can totally call it a relationship, or whatever you want to call it, though. We just aren’t putting a label on it,” you say, and Hobie nods. “You two are so cool,” Gwen says, and Hobie smirks. “We know.”

“So, I can still say you two are partners and that will be okay?” Pav asks, and Hobie shrugs. “Whatever, mate. We know what we are, so have your fun.”

“This isn’t like one of those situationships, right? Because those are totally unhealthy and not cool,” Miles says, not so subtly glancing at Gwen, and Hobie shakes his head. “Nah. Like I said, we know what we are.”

“Yeah, it’s like you said Miles. He wouldn’t just go feral to protect my ass and then when I nearly die because of it he nearly dies trying to save me after I nearly die and then have our friends nearly die trying to help him so that I didn’t die just for a situationship,” you say, putting a heavy layer of disgust on the term. Miles looks around at everyone before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”

“Hobie, (Y/n), can I see you two for a minute?” Miguel appears, pulling the two of you away from your friends. You glance at each other but get off the couch and walk over to him regardless. “How are the both of you feeling?”

“Fine,” Hobie says, and you nod. “Yeah, totally ready to jump back in whenever.”

“Uh, no. No, you’re not able to do that yet,” Hobie says, and you groan. Hobie turns his attention to Miguel. “They’re not ready for that. They almost lost consciousness after webbin’ over here,” Hobie says, and Miguel chuckles slightly. “Well, Dr. Brown, let me know when (Y/n) is ready to get back into the swing of things–”

“Bloody awful pun there, mate. And don’t call me that.”

“–and– hey, that was a great pun, okay?” Miguel diverts his attention, pointing at Hobie with a frown. Hobie just shakes his head, and mouths ‘No, it wasn’t’ at you, causing you to laugh. “Just let me know when they’re better. We’ll continue our training,” Miguel says, and Hobie suddenly gets protective. “What for?”

“Nothing in particular. Mainly to just get their head back into the game. Make it so Spider-Punk and Spider-Goth are unstoppable forces of nature in New London. Happy to see you up and about, (Y/n). And Hobie,” Miguel says, looking at him, “Good job. It’s good to know I can rely on you.” Miguel webs away, and Hobie groans as you laugh. “You just got praise from the boss!”

“Piss off!”

“I got you promoted!”

“Come off it!”

“Never!”

“I hate you,” he says, but the smile on his lips betrays his words. You laugh. “I hate you, more.” He smiles, leaning in and kissing you, not caring who’s watching.

“PAV! STOP TAKING PICTURES!”

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[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 4.2)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: banter, bad pick-up lines

words: 3.6k

Summary: After Penny allowed you to open the bar for the few navy pilots, you hang with your group at the pool table since you weren't actually working and you challenge Hangman to a game of pool...

a/n: I hope you have as much fun reading this chapter as I had writing it. It's probably one of my favorites. All the pick-up lines used in this chapter are courtesy of the instagram page of jimmyandnath. Check them out, they're really funny.

Link to my masterlist

“Who’s ready for the first round?”, you called out and everybody basically ran towards the counter. By now, you were used to those kinds of rushes, they didn’t scare you anymore. You collected their credit cards and opened the tabs before you placed a few bottles of beer on the counter and opened them in a row. Then you filled the glasses with the beer from the tap and handed out a few tumblers with Whiskey, Bourbon or Jack Daniels. Everybody spread out across the bar, someone put some money in the jukebox and filled the room with music. Counting yourself, there were 13 people in the bar but they managed to make it sound like thrice the amount.

Since you weren’t actually working tonight, you grabbed a beer and walked over to the pool table where your typical group of people had settled for now. It was nice to get the chance to sit down with them for a change. Normally you were working and didn’t have time for a real chat, only some small talk or, in Hangman’s case, a little back and forth of jokes and banter.

“Hey Y/N, up for a round of pool? We’re playing two against two”, Fanboy asked you. You found Hangman and Coyote on the other side of the table, revealing who your opponents were going to be. You always wanted to play against Hangman and this was your chance. “Sure”, you simply said and hopped off the bar stool at the wall. Bob handed you his cue as he walked past you and took your seat.

“I always see you play every time you’re in here. Let’s see how good you really are”, you challenged Hangman when you stepped up to the table. “Oh, I am good, I’m very good”, Hangman assured you.

You put the end of the cue down on the floor and it slipped from your hand. “Whoops”, you said in surprise and picked it back up. When you stood straight again, you caught Hangman and Coyote exchanging a look like it would be the easiest thing in the world to beat you at this game.

“How we’re gonna do this, Fanboy?”, you asked and tried again to lean on your cue. “Uhm, okay, we’re playing team against team, meaning every time it’s our turn we take turns playing the ball”, he explained to you and didn’t look so excited about forming a team with you anymore.

“And do we play with the fully colored ones or do we play all and just see who’s quicker?”, you asked and had trouble holding down your giggle. Even to your own ears you sounded stupid. “That is determined by the break”, he answered. “Who’s taking a break?”, you asked bluntly. “I mean when we shoot the first shot, we’ll see which we sink first and we play the rest of that color”, he explained and almost looked pained.

“Okay, then let’s go”, you said enthusiastically. Hangman had a wide smile on his face. He couldn’t wait to start playing and wipe the floor with you.

“Wanna make it interesting? How about a little bet?”, Payback stepped forward. You looked at Hangman and he looked at you, challenging you with his eyes. “I don’t think we need to put a bet on it”, Fanboy chimed in, sounding nervous. “Alright. What do you suggest?”, you asked but looked at Hangman.

“When I win, you have to serve me every drink with a bow and a ‘here’s your drink, my master’ for a week”, Hangman suggested, his look dead on you. The fact that he used when and not if didn’t go unnoticed by you. You let your tongue run along the inside of your bottom lip as you contemplated.

“Okay. And if I win you have to work a shift at the Hard Deck, call me boss all night and literally do anything I tell you to. You’ll be pretty much my bitch”, you countered his bet.

You saw how his jaw stiffened, his teeth grinding and you had to bite down on the inside corners of your mouth to keep them from curling upwards.

He extended his hand and you took it. “The bet is on”, he almost grunted. His grip tightened around your hand. “Nervous?”, he asked, not letting go just yet. “Only about the many glasses you’re gonna drop during your shift”, you threw back at him with an equally low voice.

Coyote and Fanboy stood off to the side, exchanging looks and already regretting being your team mates.

“Alright, let’s do this”, you said, walked back to where you were first sitting, pushed your cue into Bob’s hands and took a sip of your beer. You used the hairband you had on your wrist to tie your hair back up into a ponytail. Meanwhile, Coyote set up the balls in the triangle on the other side of the table and after doing so, placed the plastic triangle on the little table behind him.

You took your cue back from Bob’s hands and walked back to the table. “Who’s starting us off?”, you asked in the round, looking at Fanboy, Coyote and then Hangman, who was smiling, confident of victory. “Ladies first”, he said and placed the cue ball on the marked spot on the table.

“I can take the first shot”, Fanboy came a step closer, whispering, looking as concerned as can be. “I got this, don’t worry”, you whispered back and winked at him.

“Gentlemen”, you announced with a loud voice, focusing everybody’s attention on you and you took the two steps to stand directly in front of the cue ball. “We’re playing 8-ball on a 9-foot-regulation table. I will start us off with the break”, you said, bent forward, aligned your cue with the cue ball and took the first shot.

You watched as the balls spread out on the table, a solid and a striped one disappeared in the pockets. “Table is open”, you announced and walked around the table to where the cue ball had landed and aimed your next shot. “Solids, number 2, right side pocket”, you announced your shot and after a second of aiming, you sank your next ball.

“Fanboy, you’re up”, you told him and looked up from the table. You found everybody looking at you with dumbfounded expressions on their faces. Your face lit up with a confident smile.

“Wait, what?”, Fanboy called out and said what everybody was thinking. “What the hell just happened?”, Payback asked. “I played a lot of pool in my twenties”, you simply said and shrugged your shoulders.

“Why did you act like you haven’t seen a pool table from up close before?”, Coyote asked. “And miss out on the stupid looks on your faces? No way!”, you told him and shot a big smile at Hangman, who was suspiciously silent.

“Come on, Fanboy”, you called him again, nodding at the table to take his shot. He walked to where the cue ball had landed and started to aim at the number 5. “Take the 7, over the head rail”, you advised him and motioned the way the cue ball had to travel with your finger in the air. He breathed out loudly, indicating that that wasn’t an easy shot for him. “You got this”, you patted his back.

Fanboy took a beat to think about the shot. “Number 7, left side pocket”, he announced, aligned his cue and took the shot over the head rail like you had told him. The ball came a bit slow but he managed to sink it. “Yes!”, he called out and you high-fived.

It was your turn again. You grabbed the chalk and gently wiped it over the tip of your cue, holding the eye contact with Hangman, a sugary sweet smile on your face. You blew the dust off the cue tip, still looking at him. Only after that, you took a look at the table and decided on your next shot.

“Number 1, bottom right corner, over the long rail”, you announced the shot and executed it perfectly which earned you a few Ohs and Ahs from your little audience.

Fanboy was up again and despite his best efforts, he didn’t manage to sink the ball and now it was, finally, Hangman’s turn. “Okay, let’s get this over with”, he said, rolled his shoulders back and bent his neck to either side as he stepped towards the table.

“12, upper left”, he said and quickly sank the ball. You took a sip from your beer, not getting nervous. His cockiness will ultimately be his downfall, you could only hope that the time has come tonight. You did everything in your power to make that happen.

Hangman went on to immediately align his cue with the cue ball again. “Hey, it’s Coyote’s turn”, Rooster called out Hangman’s little cheat. Jake presented Rooster with a death-glare before he rose up again and took a step back. You and Fanboy exchanged a little smirk as Hangman seemed a bit nervous.

Coyote, sadly, couldn’t handle the pressure and missed his shot. “Come on, man”, Hangman called out in frustration. “Oh, is it me again?”, you asked with playful innocence and walked towards the table. You heard Rooster chuckling behind you.

The cue ball had landed on the opposite side of the table and you had to walk around to where Hangman was standing. “Excuse me”, you said and looked up at him from under your lashes. If you weren’t mistaking, you heard him growling at you before he reluctantly took a step to the side.

You scanned the table. For the solids, the numbers 4, 5 and 6 were left before you had to sink the 8-ball and would, ultimately, win the game and the bet with Hangman. But with how your balls were set on the table at the moment, every shot was tricky.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you went through the possible shots in your head, visualizing them. “Okay, number 6, left side pocket”, you announced and bent forward to place the cue on the edge of the table. “How?”, Phoenix asked confused as the cue ball was nowhere near placed for that shot to be possible in her eyes. You extended your arm and let the cue shoot forward, hitting the cue ball, which bounced off the opposite long rail from where you were standing, hitting the short rail and coming straight for the number 6, not only sinking the ball but also stopping in a perfect place for Fanboy’s next shot.

“Like this”, you said to her and stood up straight again. You turned to look at Hangman and said, “Geometry, baby!”, and shot him a sly grin. When playing pool, your cockiness could match his and you weren’t the slightest way sorry about that because you knew you were good at it. Hella good!

Fanboy sank the number 5 with ease and now only the number 4 was left. But it was an impossible shot and everybody saw it. And if you weren’t sure already, you only needed to take a look at Hangman’s face which lit up like a child’s face on Christmas morning.

“Okay, we all see it, I’m gonna say it. There’s no way I’ll sink that ball, but here goes”, you said. Since you knew it was about to be Hangman’s turn, you at least tried to place the cue ball as shitty as possible. He still had a lot of balls on the table though, so it wasn’t impossible to hit something.

“Oh, is it my turn again?”, he asked cheerful and came up to the table after taking a sip of his drink. “13, upper left”, he announced and sank it. “10, right side pocket”; Coyote stepped up and sank his ball too. Now they had finally found their flow and sank ball after ball. Your hopes of beating Hangman at something died little by little with every ball he and Coyote sank.

Hangman was about to sink his last ball before the 8-ball. “It was nice wiping the floor with you two”, he said with a slimy voice and bent forward to take his second to last shot.

He indeed sank the last ball but he also sank the cue ball and therefore immediately forfeited his turn to you.

Everybody gasped including you. The expression on Hangman’s face was a picture for the gods. “Oh my!”, you called out and hopped off your chair with big eyes. Fanboy still had to sink the number 4. It was a hard shot but not impossible. Like a real fighter pilot, he withstood the pressure and sank the ball.

Now, only the 8-ball was left on the table. They only thing you had to do was sink it and you could call sweet victory our own. You emptied your bottle of beer and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

You stepped forward towards the table and stood next to Fanboy. Everybody’s eyes were glued to the table while you studied the placement of the ball and whispered to your team partner about the ways to sink it, all while swiping the chalk over the tip of your queue.

“Okay, how about you shoot the cue ball here, not too hard, have it hit the second diamond. Then it should go into the bottom right”, Fanboy suggested as he walked halfway around the table and placed his finger on the spot where he suggested for you to aim.

“Stop helping her”, Hangman called out, looking increasingly more nervous. “They’re on the same team, Bagman”, Phoenix said before she took a sip of her beer.

“Everybody shut up”, you said in a loud voice and bent over to take your shot. You aligned your cue and took a deep breath, focusing on the spot where Fanboy still had his finger placed.

You took another deep breath and when you exhaled, you pushed your cue forward and took your shot. It got really silent as everybody watched the white ball hit the spot at Fanboy’s finger than rolling back into your direction, hitting the 8-ball just enough to have it roll towards bottom right pocket. It moved slowly but consistently and your grip on your cue got tighter as you watched it for every long second until it finally fell into the pocket.

Hangman looked at the pocket in disbelief with big eyes and let his head hang in defeat.

“AHHHH!”, you screamed out in surprise that it actually worked just like the people around you. You threw the cue onto the table and ran towards Fanboy, who was coming at you equally excited and threw yourself into his arms. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we won”, you told him with big eyes as you pulled back at an arms-length. “It was all you, Y/N. That was amazing”, Fanboy congratulated you.

You felt hands on your shoulders that were squeezing and shaking you. When you looked over your shoulder you found Rooster looking like a kid on Christmas morning. He was just so happy that Hangman just got it handed to him. “That was awesome”, he congratulated you. “Thanks”, you said with a bright smile that you just couldn’t wipe off your face.

Your eyes fell on Hangman who was coming towards you. He extended his hand. “Congrats! I didn’t think you’re gonna make that shot”, he said as he shook your hand. “Are you gonna be a sore loser?”, you asked. “I don’t know, I haven’t lost until now so we’ll see”, he said and the cocky tone in his voice was back. That didn’t last long. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Well, then I’ll make sure you don’t forget this moment so you get a LOT of practice”, you said and it sounded like a promise.

“Let’s raise our drinks to Y/N, the defeater of Bagman”, Phoenix called out and everybody raised their bottles and glasses to toast to you. Even Jake managed to grab his beer and give you a little toast while you smiled in the round and bathed in your victory.

A little later, everybody was sitting in little groups at the tables, the jukebox was playing in the background. You were sitting together with Fanboy, Payback, Rooster, Phoenix, Bob, Hangman and Coyote after handing out more drinks and somehow you had arrived on the topic of stupid pick-up lines.

“Are you my pinky toe? ‘Cause I bang you on the table seven times a day”, Fanboy said and some of the guys nodded, other’s laughed, you and Phoenix rolled your eyes.

“Is that a phone in your back pocket? ‘Cause that ass is calling me”, Coyote said. “I like that. That would work on me ‘cause my ass is great”, you said and clinked the neck of your bottle against Coyote’s. You must really be a bit drunk to just say stuff like that to everybody.

“Okay, I got one. Are you a shark? ‘Cause I’ve got some swimmers for you to swallow”, it was Paybacks turn to be gross. “Come on”, you called out, pulled a face but laughed anyway.

“My dick is so polite, it stands up so you can sit down”, Bob suddenly spoke up. The table got quiet and everybody looked at him with big eyes, seriously surprised that those words had just come out of his mouth. “Ma man”, Coyote leaned forward and patted Bob’s shoulder. The whole table erupted in laughter “Dude, you’re making me blush”, you said and in return made him blush. “That’s a good one, I gotta write that down”, Fanboy said and jokingly pulled over a napkin like he was actually taking notes. “Yeah? Let me know how that works out for ya”, Rooster commented with a chuckle and took a swig of his drink.

“Are you a washing machine? Because I have a load for you”, Hangman said and everybody groaned. “Hangman, don’t make me ring that bell. You know the rules”, you warned him and pointed at the sign hanging in the middle of the bar circle. “What did I do?”, he asked surprised. “You’re bordering on disrespecting women”, you told him. “Your whole existence is a disrespect to women”, Phoenix chimed in. “I just said what everybody else said. Why is it gross when I say it?”, he asked honestly offended. “Because everything sounds gross when you say it”, Phoenix lectured him. “Whatever”, he said and threw some empty peanut shells at her which made her laugh.

“Why is it always about banging and swallowing your stuff? What happened to ‘Hello, my name is…Can I buy you a drink?’ or ‘You look beautiful, I would like to get to know you’”, you asked into the round, honestly irritated. Phoenix nodded agreeingly while she took a sip from her drink. “Those phrases have been worn out, they don’t work anymore”, Payback waved it off. “Works when you haven’t heard it that much”, you mumbled at the rim of your beer bottle before you took a sip. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hangman looking over at you.

“You have to be clever, creative or those chicks won’t give you any attention”, Fanboy chimed in and pulled everybody’s attention on him. “And you wanna tell me that a cheesy pick-up line talking about your jizz will earn you more numbers than an honest ‘Hello, how are you’?”, Phoenix asked and shook her head. “Works on the right girls. I like ‘em freaky”, Fanboy answered her and wiggled his eyebrows.

“No wonder, you never get laid”, Rooster commented and made everybody laugh.

“You guys need a new round?”, you asked to change the topic. “I think we’re good for the night”, Rooster said and finished his beer. “We’ve got an early call tomorrow”, he added and got up from his chair.

“Hey, everybody! Pack it up”, Phoenix shouted and earned a few groans. It was already past 10 PM.

Not only did everybody collect their things, ready to go, but to your surprise, they all brought their bottles and glasses to the bar, placing them on the counter.

“Wow, thanks guys. Why don’t you do this every time?”, you jokingly asked as you closed the tabs and started handing back all the credit cards.

“Do you know how you get home? You shouldn’t drive”, Rooster asked as you handed him his card. “A bunch of you shouldn’t drive home anymore”, you countered. “We all Uber home and get our cars tomorrow”, he replied. “Oh okay, sounds reasonable”, you nodded and collected the glasses off the bar. “You should come with us, we get an Uber pool anyways”, Phoenix leaned on the counter, resting her head in her hands.

“I still have to clean up, you don’t have to wait for me”, you shook your head and smiled at her begging face. “Just come in earlier tomorrow”, Fanboy suggested. “It hurts my heart leaving you here”, Phoenix added and it made you chuckle.

“Alright, just let me put all the glasses in the baskets and wipe down the counter real quick”, you yielded your protest. “Yay”, Phoenix said and came around the bar. “I’m helping you. Come on, guys”, she waved over her colleagues.

“I’ll get us the Uber”, Payback said and got out his phone. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Coyote and Hangman leaving through the front door.

With the help of the others, it only took you a few minutes to clean up most of the bar before the Uber arrived. The six of you got in the van and got dropped off one by one at your houses and apartments. You were the last one in the car and it was 11 PM when you finally walked through your front door.

Next chapter: Part 5.1

[diamond-champagne]

4. I Lost You

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Warnings: Slightly suggestive

A/N: Thank you so much for the support <3 This chapter is a bit choppy as it is a filler but I hope it provides clarity for the chapters to come! As always, feedback is always welcome! Enjoy. :)

The next few days fly by as far as Paige is concerned. She spends it going through the motions. Before she knows it, she’s making arrangements to go home for Thanksgiving. It’ll be the first time in years that Paige is only going home to Minneasota. She won’t be heading to Virginia to visit Azzi and her family. Riley would be going home with her this year. The thought makes her want to vomit.

The younger girl hasn’t asked her about her plans for break. In fact, they haven’t seen each other outside of practice. It’s a strange reality for Paige because she never thought she’d have to miss Azzi when they’re finally so close to each other. It’s funny how they felt more connected when they were hundreds of miles apart. Paige sighs deeply. 

A knock on the door interrupts Paige’s thoughts. She quickly checks her phone before opening up the door. Blair is waiting on the other side. The basketball player promised to drive her friend to the airport. 

“We’re going to be late. Let’s go!” Blair rushes Paige. She quickly gathers her keys and her phone before quickly walking to the car. Paige is very happy that Blair gets to see her boyfriend. They’ve made so much progress in their relationship despite the obstacles thrown at them from being long distance. However she’s sad; because Blair is leaving and Paige doesn’t know how she’ll get through the rest of the semester.

It’s a shared sentiment between the two. They had a conversation while eating dinner.

It’s around 8pm on Tuesday when Blair texts her.

You. Me. Noodles and Company?

Paige immediately agrees. Beyond the mention of the place that makes her favorite Mac and Cheese, her friend is leaving tomorrow. The blue-eyed girl isn’t sure how to cope with that. Paige is deep in thought when her phone vibrates again. It’s another message from Blair.

Let me in!

Paige figures that the girl had already been on her way when she initially texted her. This distance between her apartment and the restaurant is too far for her to get here as fast as she did. Nonetheless, she moves from her spot on the couch to let the brown-haired girl in. The smell of the food attacks Paige’s senses immediately.

“Hi, Paigey” Blair greets as she moves into the kitchen. 

“Hey, B” Paige responds. The two girls are quick to pull out their food and dig in. The silence between them is comfortable, at least for a moment.

“I’m gonna miss you, B” Paige confesses. She isn’t sure how she became so close with the girl in front of her in a matter of weeks. The blue-eyed girl would’ve never thought that she would be friends with the girl who bought her a tequila shot, but here she is. 

“Stop! We’ll say goodbye when you drive me to the airport tomorrow.” Blair demands. She also thinks about how she’ll miss Paige. 

“What am I supposed to do without you?” Paige whines. She really doesn’t know.

“You’re going to heal your heart.” Blair responds softly. “You’re going to move on because this is killing you. You have to do this for yourself.” Paige can only nod. “When I come back, I want to see a happier version of you. One that gets all of the love she deserves in this world.”

Paige gets up to hug the girl. She only hopes that she understands what she means when she replies “Thank you”. Blair hugs the basketball player a little tighter before pulling away.

“This is our last night together. We need tequila shots.” Blair laughs. She doesn’t want the entire night to feel heavy. Paige laughs but agrees and pulls out a bottle from her cabinet along with two shot glasses.

The rest of the evening is spent enjoying each other's company. Both girls were so glad that they had met the other.

When they finally reach the airport, silence settles between them. Paige gets out of the car to help Blair grab her bags from the trunk. They aren’t ready to say goodbye just yet. It’s simple.

“I’ll see you soon, Bueckers.” Blair smirks. Her tease lightens the mood. This is what she said when they first met.

“I can't wait!” Paige flirts back. 

They hug before Blair turns to walk in the airport. She’s almost through the door when she turns back to gain the basketball player's attention. 

“Paige!” she yells which prompts the blue-eyed girl to look at her. “Take care of yourself.” It’s not an easy task but she says it anyway. 

“I will. Promise” Paige confirms.

“You’re too full of life to be half loved.” and with that, Blair walks into the airport. She doesn’t give the girl a chance to respond. She doesn’t need to. Blair can only hope that the blonde girl listens to her.

-

For the next few days, Paige carries those words with her. 

“You are too full of life to be half loved.” echoes in her head at all hours of the day.

She carries them home to Minneasota for Thanksgiving. She looks for any type of love within the people around her. 

She sees it with Drew. It’s in the way he naturally gravitates to her. It’s in the way he looks at her like she can do no more.

Paige sees the same thing with her dad. His eyes hold a certain type of admiration. She can tell that he’s filled with a sense of pride when he looks at her. He’s proud of her. 

She hears it when talks to Blair’ and her other friends. They naturally include her and accept her. 

She feels it when the Fudds call and text her individually on the holiday. Katie, Tim, Jon, and Jose each make an effort to wish her a happy Thanksgiving despite her not being there with them. They don’t have a reason to think about her; but they do.

She understands it now. Why should she settle for only half of that? 

Paige decided over Thanksgiving break that she won’t.

-

Azzi spends the week of Thanksgiving with her family and Riley. The decision to bring her was last minute and slightly impulsive. Okay so maybe slightly more than slightly impulsive. The curly-haired girl had essentially thrown a wrench into everyone’s plans by bringing the volleyball player home with her. 

Everyone had planned for Azzi to walk through the door with Paige. 

Her grandparents had come with the hopes of being able to see the pair for a little while. Jon and Jose were disappointed that there wouldn’t be someone to play 2K with besides each other. Katie had felt completely unprepared for the unexpected guest. She didn’t know what food Riley liked but she made sure to stock up on the ingredients for mac and cheese for Paige. Tim simply just couldn’t get past the fact that his daughter knew anyone else besides Paige. He really couldn’t get past the fact that they had washed this hideous fluffy purple blanket, only for the owner to not occupy their home.

Azzi knows this because she feels it too. It begins the day after Thanksgiving.

Riley and Azzi are cuddling in the basketball player's bed. Riley has an arm swung over Azzi’s waist while her face is buried in her neck. Azzi rubs small circles on her back while scrolling through tik tok. She’s bored and antsy.

Azzi is restless. She spent one full week with her girlfriend Riley and she hated it. It’s not that Riley isn’t fun to be around; but she wasn’t Paige. She didn’t know her way around her parents’ house or have inside jokes with her brothers. She didn’t understand why certain tik toks were funny. She didn’t smell like vanilla or have blonde hair. And she certainly didn’t have big, bright, blue eyes..

Azzi missed Paige. The concept isn’t exactly new to her. Their entire friendship is built off of them missing each other. But even in the times that they’re apart, they’re together. There’s a never ending stream of phone calls and text messages. They have a widget app that allows the other’s picture to appear on their home screen. They wear each other’s clothes more often than not. Paige and Azzi are always intertwined in some sense. Paige and Azzi are more like PaigeandAzzi.

If she’s thinking about it, Azzi suppose that’s why it was so easy for her and Paige. It was so easy to kiss Paige. It was so easy to touch Paige. They had already known everything there was to know; secrets, crushes, dreams, and fears. This was simply just something to add to this list. Now she knows all that she did before plus some.

Now Azzi knows that when she kisses Paige right below her left ear, the blonde lets out whimpers that one can only dream about. She knows that when they’re making out, she should bite the older girl’s bottom lip. Azzi knows that Paige lets out the most pornographic when she kisses the birth mark on her inner thigh. She also knows that she has to give Paige praise because even though she’ll never admit it, she loves it when Azzi calls her a good girl.

So, Azzi knows it all. She even knows that Paige is in love with her. She can hear it in the way Paige speaks to her. Her voice held a certain softness that is reserved specifically for the younger girl. She can feel it in the way Paige looks at her; like Azzi can hang the moons and the stars. She can feel it in the way Paige touches her. The blonde is gentle but Azzi feels every emotion when they hug. It feels like home.

It felt like home.

She hasn’t heard that voice or looked into those eyes in a very long time. Azzi knows it is her fault. She took all she could from the girl without giving anything else back in return. She didn’t have anything to offer the girl; so she didn’t.

Now Azzi is home during Thanksgiving Break; holding a girl that isn’t Paige. And that’s why Azzi hated it; because she wanted those eyes with blonde hair. Everyday. She wanted every holiday with Paige and everyday in between. 

She can’t have that though. Azzi has taken so much from Paige; she doesn’t even know where she would start.

So, she pulls Riley closer. She isn’t Paige but she hasn’t lost her.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 10 ⬅ch.9

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | violence. sexual assault implications. blood. wc 5.4k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | hehe enjoy

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

…uzbekistan…

you woke to arabic voices, your eyes squinting open in discomfort. your head was pounding and your stomach thrummed with a wave of nausea. you quickly remembered you had been hit with the butt of a rifle, right beneath your ribs. you leaned over in the moving vehicle and dry heaved. 

“innahā mustayqiẓatun,” she’s awake .

you sat back up, the realization of what had happened hitting you. you went to wipe your mouth and found your hands were bound together with a rope. you groaned and awkwardly carried out the action with your hands linked. 

laswell . you quickly looked around, not seeing laswell in the the truck with you. you were in the backseat beside a man who was speaking hurriedly to the man in front, driving. you looked out the window, the town rushing by. 

“where’s laswell?” you asked, your voice hoarse. the men ignored you. “my friend. where is she?” you said with a bit more force hoping one of them would answer you. 

they continued to talk as if you weren’t there. you ground your teeth together in annoyance. you rested your head against the window, the cold of the glass helping with the tension throbbing in your skull. 

your body was still pumping with adrenaline and you were finding it hard to sit still. your fingers wound themselves together, your leg bouncing up and down. you hoped laswell was okay. you also hoped she was going to the same place you were… you didn’t want to be alone, as cruel as that might be. you were trapped in this truck with three men—three men who kidnapped you. you had no idea where they were taking you or what they were going to do with you. the panic hit you like a slap in the face.

you tried to breathe slowly, letting out low breaths, trying to steady your nerves. it did little to help. 

would the others be coming to rescue you and laswell? surely they would. shepherd wouldn’t let them give up on you two. at least not laswell, she was far too important. and price wouldn’t stand for it. 

they were coming. you prayed to god they were coming. 

“lieutenant. it’s farah. it’s time.” 

“rog. wheels down in one.” ghost voice was hoarse as he answered farah over the comms. “nik, convoy’s inbound. we’re on.”

“copy that,” nikolai responded. “over the hlz now.”

ghost’s heart rate continued to rise the longer you and laswell were kept hostage. he clenched the gun at his hip and patted himself down, making sure he had all he would need to get the two of you back. he also found it hard to stay still, his body flooded with adrenaline. 

“good. set ‘er down and hold,” ghost said. he walked to the door of the helicopter, looking between gaz and soap. “gaz, you stay in the heli on overwatch. we’ll work our way up the line.”

“roger that. let’s thin the herd, get laswell and iaso back.”

when the helicopter landed only moments later, ghost and soap connected fists with gaz as they hopped out. on the ground, dirt whipping around them from the blades of the helicopter, a woman on a rusted bike sat waiting for the two men. 

“hey, lt., sergeant,” she called out, greeting the men. 

“farah. thanks for the assist,” soap replied when ghost didn’t respond, noticing how he had tensed up.

“we share a common enemy,” farah said, nodding at the men.

“and friends in need,” ghost said a bit harshly. “are you ready?”

“all set. see you down the road!” she slid up her mask and pulled get goggles over her eyes. she looked so self-assured, ready to take down men twice her size. ghost thought about how you would have liked her. 

“all stations… we’re on the move!” ghost called as he and soap jogged up to the beige truck waiting for them. 

the two men jumped in the bed of the truck, ghost slapping the top of the roof to let the driver know they were on board and ready to go. 

the procession of three trucks and multiple motorcycles took off down the dirt road. 

“all stations, we’re up—comms check…” farah’s voice rang in ghost’s ear. 

“good copy,” ghost grunted. 

“check,” gaz responded from 30 feet in the air, his sniper at the ready as he pointed it out the door of the helicopter. 

“loud and clear,” nikolai said. 

“the al-qatala convoy just passed us. we’ll be right behind them,” farah urged. 

“copy. nik, use the ravine for cover. we’ve got one shot to rescue them.”

“roger that,” nik responded to ghost. 

“what vehicle are they in?” gaz asked. 

“al-qatala has iaso in a black suv, laswel in the similar one right in front of hers. near the front of the convoy.” farah’s voice echoed. 

“we hit the escort vehicles first. then we secure laswell and iaso before aq can reach the border.” ghost commanded. “soldiers, move in!” 

gaz began to fire shots at aq that were standing in the back of truck beds. ghost gripped his gun as he aimed the barrel toward the aq vehicles up ahead. he was too far back to get a good shot and growled in irritation. 

ghost leaned over the side of the truck, shouting to the man driving, his window down. “get me up beside one of the aq trucks!”

the driver nodded and stepped on the gas. “what’re ya doin’?” soap asked ghost. 

“gettin’ the girls back,” he said before stepping onto the top of the truck and running down the front onto the hood, immediately jumping and landing on the back of an aq truck. one of the men stood and came at ghost, but gaz was faster, shooting a bullet through his skull before he could reach him. 

“thanks,” ghost said.

“don’t mention it.”

ghost’s fist came slamming down onto the other aq, shoving him off the back of the truck. he sheathed his gun momentarily, maneuvering himself over the edge of the truck, his hand clutching tightly to the metal, his other hand opening the driver’s door. the man shouted something in arabic as ghost grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped him from the truck. the man went tumbling on the pavement, his hands coming up over his head as the bikes raced around him. 

ghost pushed himself into the driver’s seat with a huff. he yanked the door shut and floored it. 

“jesus, lt.,” soap breathed, watching the events unfold. 

ghost would have chuckled at soap’s astonishment, but all that was on his mind was getting you back unharmed. 

of course ghost cared about laswell. he had worked with her for a while now, and he’d never admit it, but he cared about price too. and price and laswell were close. price had been fuming when he found out what happened on this mission—pissed at himself for not being there, as if he could have done something to stop laswell from getting taken if he hadn’t asked ghost to take his position. 

but laswell wasn’t ghost’s main objective. it was you. you were who he was about to slaughter through walls of men for. it was you his heart pounded in nerves for. he felt so sick when he thought about what they might be doing to you that he almost had to lean over to retch. 

and laswell—while out of practice—was a trained killer. you, on the other hand, had only started to take combat training seriously the past few weeks. the thought made ghost’s chest constrict painfully tight. if they put one hand on you…

he let out a shallow breath, turning the wheel to the truck abruptly, avoiding civilian cars while trying to move up the procession of aq trucks. 

soap had an eye on ghost’s truck and saw the way he was swerving between oncoming cars to get closer to the front. soap almost regretted his conversation with ghost earlier. he was worried it had gotten through to him—that ghost was ready to risk his life, acting far too rashly, to clear his conscience. 

ghost spotted the black suv farah had mentioned earlier up ahead. it was pretty far off in the distance and with aq trucks clogging the road, and oncoming traffic coming from the other direction, ghost slammed his hand on the wheel in frustration. it was going to take too long for him to get up close. 

“throwing molotov!” farah’s voice rang in ghost’s ears, bringing him back to the moment. he saw the truck behind him go up in flames in his side mirror. 

“heh-heh… i missed farah,” nikolai laughed. 

the commotion in his ears faded to a rumble. ghost was focusing on how to get to you before it was too late, everything else was just background noise to him. he heard nikolai and gaz yelling in his ears but nothing was getting through to him. 

an aq truck pulled up beside him and ghost immediately pulled his gun and began shooting. the truck stuttered backward before pulling back up and firing at him again. ghost ducked and swerved the vehicle. he slammed the side of his truck into the other, catching them off guard and using that as an opportunity to shoot back at them. before he could reload, the enemy truck exploded, turning into a ball of flames. 

he heard farah laughing over the comms. jesus, she was intense, and ghost was thankful for it. 

the further he drove, the farther you seemed to get from him. civilian vehicles were only getting in the way, the aq trucks swerving all over the road, preventing ghost and his other men from getting past them. 

a car exploded before ghost, making him grip the wheel tightly, trying to turn out of the way. that wasn’t an aq truck…

“they’re taking down civilian vehicles! blocking the roads!”

shit. 

you heard the explosions going off somewhere in the distance behind you. you turned to look out the back window and saw a large commotion, vehicles going all over the road, a procession of motorcycles with riders shooting men in trucks. 

a feeling of relief swam through you— they came. 

you continued to watch, unable to do anything else. you observed as a car that was rushing in the opposite direction blew up, rotating onto its back and igniting in flames. 

“wait… those are just civillians,” you muttered to yourself. “hey! you’re killing innocent people!” you shouted. you couldn’t believe it. they were taking innocent lives, completely uncaring, their only objective was to block the roads. 

you turned to the man beside you in astonishment, ready to yell again, when his hand came down on your face, slapping you across the cheek. your head flew in the opposite direction, your lips parting in a gasp. 

“no more talking,” he said in a heavy accent. 

you gulped, looking forward. you licked your lips and could taste the blood from your busted lip. the other men laughed as they looked at you in the rearview mirror, muttering something you couldn’t understand in arabic. 

you were going to have to be smarter about this. you sat silently in your seat. you began to worry that your teammates wouldn’t be able to get to you in time. there were a lot of aq vehicles trailing behind you. you weren’t sure how they’d manage to get through them all. 

you heard the engine of a helicopter and you turned, looking out one of the back windows again. your jaw dropped. oh my god, was that gaz? gaz was fucking hanging from a rope attached to the helicopter, upside down, continuing to shoot at enemy soldiers. you gasped when he almost swung right into a truck. your heart raced as you watched him. 

a bend in the road cut off your vision and you faced forward again. you didn’t want anyone risking their life for you. as much as you wanted rescuing, you didn’t want it at the expense of others. the image of gaz swinging wildly in the air was plastered in your mind. these men were going to get themselves killed. and it was going to be your fault. 

ghost felt like he was running out of options as you rapidly approached the border. 

“gaz, nik—my spotters are reporting an aq roadblock ahead.” farah’s voice came in through the comms in a level-headed voice. 

“affirm, i see it,” nikolai responded. “you might have to ram through.”

“crash it. kill as many as you can,” ghost echoed into his mic. 

ghost gripped his steering wheel, stepping on the gas as he approached the roadblock. he spotted gaz coming up right behind him in an aq truck. 

both men tore through the aq men, trudging past the trucks lined up to block them, destroying anything in their wake. ghost felt beyond destructive. he felt lethal.

“nik, i punched through,” gaz said as him and ghost got on the other side of the roadblock. 

“be advised. there is a situation up the road.” nikolai’s voice sent a shiver through ghost. he was just waiting for someone to say your black suv blew up, or crashed, or they lost track of it. 

“aq is deploying mines on the highway!”

“these are civillains, nik,” gaz said in anguish. “aq will burn for this.”

“i’ll bring the matches,” farah chimed in. 

ghost managed to weave between the charred cars, praying he didn’t hit a mine. 

further up the road, ghost swung open his door, timing it just right so when an aq motorcycle rode up right beside him, with great strength, he shoved the man off and hopped on. he watched as the truck ran off the road and crashed into a rocky hill. 

ghost revved the bike’s engine, gaining far more speed than he ever could in the pilfered truck. 

he heard gaz and nik conversing, then soap yelling over the comms for gaz to get on board the truck bed he was in. 

ghost floored it down the road, watching as the procession ahead of him split off in two different directions. 

“shit! they’re splitting them up!” soap called out. 

“who do we follow?” gaz asked as he picked up the grenade launcher.

ghost grit his teeth. “soap, gaz—follow laswell. i’ll follow iaso.” 

“you sure, lt.?”

“we don’t have time to argue about this, soap. just go.”

soap and gaz looked at one another before nodding. the convoy split up. soap and gaz followed laswell and ghost went off the road, following the black suv you were trapped inside. the car was going too fast for the others to keep up. ghost was glad he got on a bike, it was the only way he’d be able to get up to you in time. 

ghost’s own words rang in his head, the ones he had said to you in the bar. the words that hurt you. the words he had regretted ever since they left his tongue. you were going to die thinking he hated you. thinking he used you. 

ghost clenched the handlebars to the bike tighter, narrowing his eyes as he hurried behind you. he was going to get you back even if it killed him.

you knew you were going off the road the second the vehicle began to bump up and down. you tried to clutch onto something to keep from falling off the seat, but it was difficult with your hands tied. 

the men in the suv with you were yelling at one another. then the stout man beside you leaned out his window and began shooting. 

you turned to look out the window. your stomach dropped. the convoy was gone. you only saw one motorcycle trailing behind you. the others must have split off. this was their plan. to split you and laswell up, thus splitting up the convoy of rescuers. 

you tried not to let the fact that only one person was trailing you to hurt your feelings. now was not the time to be sensitive. but you couldn’t help but wonder if laswell had the rest of your team following her. it made sense, though. she was laswell… and you were just…iaso.

you yelped as the vehicle took an abrupt turn, making you slam into the man beside you. he shoved you off and rushed to reload his gun. you looked behind you in horror, realizing it was ghost on the bike, finally able to make out his mask as he edged closer. 

the man beside you went to lean back out the window, ready to send bullets in ghost’s direction. you acted before you could think, using your tied hands to claw at his back. you gripped onto the cotton material of his shirt and yanked him backward. he was so caught off guard from the sudden attack that he stumbled and crashed back on the seat beside you. 

he said something in arabic then hit you across the face again. your head flew back and hit the edge of the door. you groaned in pain. you squeezed your eyes shut, your head throbbing. 

they took a sharp turn and you were jostled back, opening your eyes in response. the man in the passenger’s seat leaned out his window now and began to shoot his pistol. you heard him make a celebratory noise and you almost broke your neck turning around to look for ghost. 

ghost’s bike skidded out from under him, sending him crashing down. the bullet had blown a hole in his tire. 

“no,” you said softly. your lips trembling. he was your last hope. 

you watched full of dread as the truck carried you away. ghost sat up and brushed himself off. he looked out after you, standing in the middle of nowhere, at a loss of what to do. 

tears began to slide down your cheek.

“i lost her,” ghost said over the comms in a newfound sense of defeat. soap had never heard his voice sound quite like that. 

there was a moment of silence before ghost heard ruffling and then soap’s voice. 

“come again, lt.?”

ghost was walking back from where he came, following the tracks in the dirt. “iaso. she got away.”

again there was radio silence. 

“im on my way,” ghost heard farah say. 

“farah—”

she cut ghost off. “i started trailing you as soon as we picked off the remaining aq trucks. we’re almost to you. stay put,” she demanded. 

it wasn’t long before farah was riding up with two other men on bikes. “what happened?” farah asked, her bike skidding to a halt. 

“fuckers blew my tire. they still got iaso.”

farah looked at one of her soldiers and nodded. he hopped off his bike and held it up for ghost. farah laughed as ghost looked confused. “get on. we’re goin’ to get her.”

“laswell?” ghost asked, wanting to know if she had at least made it out okay. 

“soap and gaz got her. she’s safe.”

ghost took in a breath before accepting the bike and getting on. “let's go get her back, lieutenant.”

with a new rush of energy, ghost took off, following the tracks of the suv alongside farah and another soldier. 

“she couldn’t have gotten far!” farah called out. 

when the suv came to a stop, you were quickly escorted out of the vehicle. you stumbled, the men giving you no time to right yourself before they pushed you into a wooden building. the men roughly jostled you through the door, your eyes attempting to adjust to the dark. 

you struggled to make out where you were before the man whose hands were holding your arm shoved you into a small room. you fell to the floor at the sudden force. 

the man spat something at you that you didn’t understand then he slammed the door shut behind him. you were left alone in the room and you tried to sit up. your arm was already bruising from where he held you, and you could feel blood dripping down the side of your face. 

you scooted yourself into the corner and hugged your knees to your chest, your wrists beginning to burn as they constantly rubbed against the binding rope. 

you tried to hold back the wave of tears but you failed. you hoped they made it to kate. you hoped she wasn’t going through the same thing you were right now. though, if she was, she was no doubt coping much better than you. 

you looked around the room, trying to clear your vision from tears by blinking repeatedly. the room was mostly empty except for a chair and a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was an interrogation room. 

the notion plummeted inside your stomach, making you bury your face in your knees. you weren’t going to survive this. you were weak. you were suddenly pissed at price for letting you join his team. you weren’t cut out for this shit. you were a medic, not a damn fighter. 

minutes ticked by and your tears finally dried up. the longer you sat, the more fear was instilled inside you. you regretted cursing price out already, knowing it wasn’t his fault any of this happened to you. usually, you were good under extreme pressure, but that was only when it came to medical stuff. not when you were being kidnapped. 

god, your head was killing you. you hoped you didn’t look as bad as you felt. 

the metal door scrapped along the cement floor as it opened. you looked up in horror as a man stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. he grinned when he looked at you huddled in the corner. 

“you don’t appear to be a soldier,” he said, his accent dripping over every word. 

“i’m a medic,” you said, your voice only slightly wavering. 

the man made a humming sound as he dug around in his pocket. “well, then i’m sorry to have to do this to you, but really, we have no choice.” he gestured around him. the sardonic smile on his face said he didn’t mean any of the words he was saying. he likely couldn’t wait to torture you for information, even when you’d be unable to offer anything useful. he just needed an excuse to hurt someone.

he nudged his head towards the metal chair. “don’t make me have to help you up,” he grunted. 

you quickly got to your feet and sat in the chair, your body shaking with nerves. the man grinned as he dragged the knife he drew from his pocket along your arm. “been awhile since i’ve done this to a woman. i’d be lying if i said i haven’t missed it.”

you swallowed painfully as he trailed the knife up to your neck. “you’re sick,” you spat at him. 

he chuckled. “indeed.”

you knew then that nothing you said was going to help you. this man didn’t care if you knew anything or not. he just wanted to hurt you. you didn’t want to cry, but the tears began to fall again anyway. you tried so hard to keep them in. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

he licked his lips as he watched the tears glide down your cheeks. “pretty thing like you shouldn’t cry,” he said menacingly. 

he took his knife and traced it back down your arm until it reached your hand. “hmm. now, tell me. which finger do you like the least?”

you strangled a sob. he didn’t even interrogate you yet. he was just jumping right to the torture part “please,” you barely managed to get out. 

“oh, i like the way you beg,” he remarked. 

you grit your teeth and pulled your hands away from him. “nowhere to go,” he mocked, using his knife to gesture around the small confines of the room.

“im curious. where have you been getting your intel on hassan’s location?”

you shook your head, pulling back as far away as you could from him.

he tisked. then his hand grabbed your jaw aggressively, making you whimper. his knife came up and slid down the side of your face, this time he applied pressure and you squeezed your eyes shut. the blood wept out from the trail he left and you could feel it slide down your face and drip onto your clothes. 

the man shoved your face back as he let go, flipping his knife in his hand as he watched you with fire in his eyes. “now, i’m going to give you another chance to answer. and trust me, you won’t like what happens if you don’t tell me what i want to hear.”

you opened your mouth but nothing came out. that type of information was classified, so even if you wanted to tell him—which you wouldn’t—you didn’t know. medics didn’t get the rundown of information like that.  

when he realized you weren’t going to speak, he looked you up and down. “hm. you’re not going to be of much help, huh?” he prowled you like a cat would its prey. “how about i get some use out of you before i bloody you up too much, then?”

you didn’t like the sound of that. his knife hooked under the straps of your tactical vest and in a swift movement, he cut it away. the vest fell from you and he tossed it aside to the floor. then his knife was back along the collar of your shirt. he grinned as he ripped through your longsleeved shirt, straight down the center. you silently cried as you felt the air rush to your now exposed skin. the shirt was split down the middle exposing your tank top. 

“please don't,” you pleaded. 

you felt his fingers along the neckline of your tanktop now, his knife slipping under the fabric. you closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable. 

just as he was about to slide his knife down your shirt, you heard yelling and the sound of guns going off in the distance. the man stopped all movement and turned around. he clearly wasn’t expecting any sort of interruption. without another word, he exited the room to investigate, leaving you alone again. 

you caught your breath, breathing in and out exceptionally fast. you let out a loose breath and looked up at the ceiling, willing your tears to slow. the loss of his grimy fingers on your skin relieved you momentarily.

you tried to calm yourself as you heard more shouting and the firing of weapons. your legs were shaking as you sat there. you tried to use your hands to pull your shredded shirt back over yourself but it was no use. you swore in exhaustion, sinking back into the chair. 

after several minutes, it was finally silent outside the room. your body set in more unease with the silence. 

the door handle shook and the awful sound of it scraping the ground made you wince as the door opened. your eyes immediately went to the door and you kept them locked on the entrance, feeling them go wide as a large figure took up the space. 

you almost choked on your breathing, a strangled sob leaving you as you locked eyes with ghost. you began to cry in relief. in shock. in horror of what almost happened—you were convinced it was really all over for you. that this was it. 

as your body shook, ghost rushed up to you. his voice was hoarse as he said your name, trying to gain your attention. you looked up at him through hot tears and gave a halfhearted smile, your lips trembling. you had held yourself together as best as you could, but now with ghost in front of you, everything came tumbling down. his mask was covered in blood and he seemed to be out of breath.

he tilted his head to the side as he looked at you, his heart squeezing painfully at the sight. your face was bloody and your shirt had been ripped apart. a newfound sense of anger coursed through ghost. 

he pulled out his knife and you flinched, hitting the back of the chair as you created space between the two of you. he took notice but didn’t stop his movements. maybe in any other scenario, he would have tried to calm you down, letting you know he was only using the knife to free you. but just the fact that you shied away from his knife sent him into a fit of rage. he saw that the cut on your face was a long, straight line. he knew then why you were suddenly acting like his knife was the scariest thing in the world. he wished he hadn’t already killed every fucking bastard in there. he would give anything to string up whoever did this to you and give them a slow death. 

he slid the knife between your hands and cut away the rope, setting your hands free. 

you immediately grasped your wrists which had turned red and rubbed raw from the rope. ghost looked down at you, still unable to say anything. your eyes met his again and you took a moment to take him in before you sprang to your feet and wrapped your arms around him. he didn’t hesitate as he hugged you back. 

he felt you sobbing into his neck and his arms tightened around your waist. “you’re okay,” he cooed softly. “you’re safe now. i’ve got you.” his heart pounded harshly in his chest and you could feel it against you.

one of his hands slid up your back and got lost in your hair as he cradled you to his body, your frontside flesh with his, wanting you as close as he could get you. he shut his eyes for a brief moment, letting reality hit him full force. he got to you in time. you were okay. you were going to be okay. 

he sank to his knees in sharp relief with you still wrapped tightly in his grasp. he let you take what you needed from him, his presence bringing you nothing but a sense of safety. he let out a long breath of relief. 

you pulled back slightly, ashamed to look at him. “i-i’m sorry,” you muttered, your hand loosening around him. 

sensing your doubt, he clung to you tighter. “stop,” he said in a voice so soft you felt your heart pinch. “this isn’t your fault.”

you felt like he was reading your thoughts better than you were. his few words hit you harder than he could ever know. you sank back into him, letting yourself go limp as he held you. 

when you both finally separated, ghost helped you to your feet. he appraised your figure and you saw the anger behind his eyes. he moved too quickly for you to take in what he was doing. he slid his vest off and then removed his longsleeved shirt, leaving him in his black undershirt. you watched in astonishment as he pulled the shirt over your head. you slid your arms in as ghost picked up his vest and put it back on. 

your eyes traced his tattooed arm and his scent immediately filled your nose. his shirt was far too big for you, hanging down over your thighs, but you were thankful. you knew it wasn’t your fault, but you were still embarrassed to have your shirt ripped and exposed like that. you didn’t want everyone else to know what happened to you. you almost felt ashamed.

ghost clenched his fist before reaching up and running a finger over the bruise above your eyebrow. “i’m sorry i couldn't get to you sooner,” he said distractedly. 

you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “ghost, don’t. it’s not your fault either.”

he wished you had called him simon. 

before he could think more on the topic and read into your every word, he scooped you up and held you in his arms bridal style. you squealed but settled into his arms quickly. his hand rubbed soft patterns on your back as he carried you out of the building. your arms hooked around his neck, your body shaking less violently, but still shaking nonetheless. 

ghost held you closer and you felt like everything was going to be okay. you rested your head on his chest and let the tears fade out slowly. 

chapter 11 ➡

[house-of-lovin]

legally binded - 2

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. ♣ prev part | next part

Chapter 2: Lakers, Headlines… New York?

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: part 2 of legally binded! I hear yall and I see the comments! This will be a series, got a lot of ideas for this one. But of course, I am open to hearing what you guys think and want to see! A little bonding moment for R and Jenna 😮‍💨

Word Count: 6.3k+ (lol sorry, may have gone overboard!)

“So… what does this mean, exactly?” Jenna asks for both of you.

“We’re gonna make the two of you the talk of the town. And hopefully get people to back off on the allegations that Jenna is difficult to work with and that Y/N is entering her Justin Bieber phase — and not the good one.” Your PR agent, Liv, purses her lips.

Jenna can’t help the snort that leaves her lips, awkwardly coughing to hide it. But you catch it anyway, throwing her a glare.

“Difficult to work with huh?” You speak up — in faux interest. “Not hard to see why.”

This time Jenna is the one glaring at you. “You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t know me either.” You huff.

“Enough!” Jake yells. Anger steadily rose in the man’s bloodstream.

You and Jenna flinch at his loudness. Sliding down the chair, you feel ashamed again; ignoring Jenna’s piercing glare.

Liv is sighing but opts not to add fuel to the fire. “It’s going to take a few hours to get the paperwork and contract drafted —but once it’s done we’ll have it sent over to you. For now, get to know each other, I don’t know.”

You shoot Liv a scowl. She was making this already awkward situation so much worse.

She catches your look, sighing, “Just–pretend this is another job and you’re new castmates. Anything please. ” She rolls her eyes, already fed up with what disaster this morning has been.

“You can do that, right?” Liv crosses her arms, staring at you two in question.

“Yes.” Jenna mumbles.

“Mhmm.” You hum lazily, changing the subject. “Can we tell people? That this isn’t real?”

Liv glances at Jake and Sarah sharing a silent conversation. They nod at each other. “If they sign an NDA. Only family, your team and us. This cannot leave the room.”

You feel pale. You couldn’t even tell the people around you about this fake relationship without binding them to a contract? Suddenly, the situation starts to feel more real; the carpet of delusion being pulled from under you.

You’re standing up, pushing the chair back with a loud scrape that rings terribly against your ears. “I need some air.”

“You’re really leaving in the middle of a meeting?” Jenna questions with a snip, crossing her arms.

“Sorry your highness, I got better places to be. Liv you can send the contract to my assistant. Ortega, wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you… but well.” You trail off, shrugging.

Liv and Jake are fuming red in the face at your words, but you were still hungover and the comedown was begging to wreak havoc – your irritation getting harder to restrain. 

Jenna’s face scrunches, offended. You walk away, not bothering to listen for a response.

“There’s no way I can work with her…” You catch it anyway.

●●●

“I mean can you believe what they’re asking me to do!” You pace up and down your living room.

“Oh come on, I don’t buy the allegations that she’s difficult, you know they love to tear women down when they get their come up.” Link reasons tapping on his phone.

“I mean how can this face be rude?” He holds up a picture of Jenna at the SAG awards and you furrow your brows because you don’t remember seeing her there — you might have been late.

You were just nominated anyway. So you pulled a Beyoncé and only showed up for your category.

“Maybe Jenna’s not so bad?”

“Quit it.”

It was now mid-afternoon and the battering Californian sun was shining bright above clear skies and through your floor-to-ceiling windows. You bought this house in the Palisades for the peace it provided you. Not too far from central L.A. but still tucked away enough for a moment of solitude with a life like yours.

It was your own version of a sanctuary – like a home should be. 

“Okay, that sounds crazy, I agree. But dude, you fucked up. Big time.” Your long-time friend Link said. 

You and Link grew up together and when you got your come up, best believe you took your best friend with you. You offered to help him out while he lives with you as you achieve your dreams but ever the stubborn guy, he refused. Only agreeing to move to Los Angeles with you if he works as your assistant to earn his keep.

He’s a good guy like that. 

Since then, he’s been by your side. Through every disappointment, bad news, great news, red carpets, and movie premieres. You couldn’t do this job without him. 

He’s like your brother.

“I know!” You groan, dropping to the couch. Why the hell did you let your designer choose these couches? They were stiffer than a plank of wood.

“Look at this article online, 2-time Grammy winner and Academy Award Nominee, Y/N L/N’s fall from grace? Sin City indeed! The actress blacks out at a Vegas strip club! Click here to see exclusive mugshots.”

“They’re selling my fucking mugshots?” You lift your head above the headrest horrified, watching Link sit across the room on a bar stool reading his phone. 

“I’m pretty sure they’re public domain.” He refutes.

Falling back, you groan louder – hiding your face behind your palms.

“I don’t see how you have a choice, buddy.” He sighs, placing his phone on the bar top. 

“There has to be another way. Why can’t I just run away? I’ll fly back home for a couple of weeks, and let all of this shit die down. It’s worked before.” 

“Yeah, I told Jake and Liv you’d say that.” He rolls his eyes, walking to you. “I don’t think you can run from this one, Y/N.”

The softness in his voice has you sighing in defeat. He’s right, you know he’s right. This wasn’t just some tiny mistake you can brush under the carpet like all the other ones. This was serious. 

You got arrested. For blacking out with someone who had drugs on them. In a strip club, no less.

What a mess.

Something like this could seriously hurt your career. You could lose roles, relationships, connections, brand deals – the blood, sweat, and tears you poured in; everything you worked so hard for – gone.

“I know… Doesn’t make me wanna do it more though,” You mumble, distantly staring at the high ceiling.

He chuckles, “I know bud. But this is what we signed up for, right?” 

You frown. It’s what we signed up for.

It’s a mantra that you have adopted in all your years as a working performer. It certainly wasn’t the most comforting and loving thing to say, but it works because it’s true and there’s no greater motivator than a slap in the face to reality. 

You much preferred tough love anyway.

“Right.” You mutter.

“Come on, I think Jenna’s manager just sent me the signed contract, they’re just waiting for your signature.” He walks off to his office. 

You close your eyes, letting the sun warm you up through the glass panes. A few moments pass until Link comes back out with a tablet and pen. “Sign here, under Jenna’s signature.”

She has pretty handwriting – you note as you sign the electronic document. 

Call it weird but you had a thing for people with neat handwriting, steady hands and all that. 

But then you remember who the professional signature belonged to and forced yourself to snap out of it.

“Did you even read it?” He arches a brow.

“That’s what lawyers are for.”

He scoffs, “Okay, superstar. It basically says what you and Jenna need to do. Public spottings at first, then dates, appearances at each other's events. Maybe posts on social media, but the idea is to be discreet – we can’t have it seem like we’re using this to scrub away the Vegas incident.”

“But that’s exactly what we’re doing,” You sigh.

“Yeah, but they don’t know that. And it’s your damn job to make sure they don’t ever find out either.”

You rub your forehead; a headache beginning to form. Not sure if it was from the hangover or from all this PR mess.

“Anways,” He takes the tablet out of your hands. “I’ll send these over to Liv. Now as for you. Go upstairs, take a shower because you smell horrendous and then put on what your stylist picked out.”

Wrinkling your nose, you ask, “What, why? I literally just got back, I already have to go out and show my face? The paparazzi will hound me.” 

“We have to beat the Vegas headline with a bigger story, so you need to be seen with Jenna ASAP. That means out for a late lunch at a well-known spot downtown. You have to act like the news doesn’t bother you – like you’re moving past it.”

“Who goes out for late lunch?” 

He sends you a pointed look. 

“I’ll be upstairs…” You mumble, dragging your feet as you ascend the steps.

●●●

You tap your fingers on the steering wheel, glancing up at the modest house through your sunglasses.

A mid-modern century house in Glendale. Not where you pictured her to live but whatever. Her front yard was bare but professionally trimmed. No signs of any plant life that made the space look a little… dull. The only signs of life in the house was the humble SUV that you assumed belonged to the young actress.

Your tapping grows impatient the longer you wait.

As if staring harder at the front door will make the actress come out faster. Another five agonizing minutes pass – you seriously consider pulling away to go home and sleep off this hangover but Link stood a good half-foot taller than you.

He’d lock your ass out of your own home. 

Eventually, the door opens and the short brunette walks down the driveway in confident strides. Dressed in jeans, combat boots and a cardigan; those headphones around her neck, again. Somehow, she looked consistently gothic and you pondered if she really was like her character in real life.

You see her scan your Mercedes-AMG GT3 for a moment before pulling the passenger door open; sliding into the cushy seats. “Nice car.”

You blink, “Thanks… you sure took your time though,”

You couldn’t stop the slight attitude that accompanied your words.

She gives you a sharp glance, “why didn’t you just ring the doorbell?”

“You had to unlock the gate to let me in, you knew I was waiting outside.” You huff, staring at her back. 

“Then would have waited in the living room if you had knocked. What difference does it make?” She shrugs.

“That’s not the poi–” You gruff but stop, inhaling a deep breath. The pounding in your skull was begging for you to cool down. 

“I think I much preferred waiting in the car… alone.” You whisper the last bit then shoot her a sarcastic glance; shifting the gear in reverse.

You don’t bother to check if she had her seatbelt on as you aggressively pull out her driveway; leaving skid marks on the pavement.

She jerks forward at the sudden movement. “Shit– a little warning next time?” She glares bracing herself on the dashboard.

“Hands off the leather,” You bite as you pull off her street and to the restaurant Link sent you the directions to. 

She scoffs. “My driveway!”

●●●

“Table for 2 under Ortega? Please follow me, can I be the first one to say how delighted we are that you two decided to dine here.” The host enthused a little too much.

“It’s our pleasure.” Jenna answers politely.

You plaster a tight-lipped smile keeping quiet; sliding a modest hand on Jenna’s back when he leads you past other patrons and to a secluded table – heads already turning in your direction. Jenna jumps, sending you a menacing glare and for a moment you feel slightly scared by the fire in her eyes – dropping your hand immediately. 

Okay, no touching. Got it.

“Here we are, the best seat in the house. We have complementary champagne on the table to start your evening. We’ll give you a few moments to get settled,” He sends a tight smile causing his wrinkles to show – definitely trying too hard but you’d never say no to free alcohol.

“Thank you,” You bid, pulling a chair out for Jenna.

She walks to claim the opposite chair, assuming you’re taking the one you pulled out. But she stares as you stand behind the open chair, awkwardly. Only then did she seem to realize that the seat was for her.

Raising her brows, she looked a little surprised but wordlessly and a bit awkwardly (she sends a tight-lipped smile) sits over to the chair allowing you to push it in for her, before taking your own seat across.

The first thing you grab is the bottle of champagne and the flute. 

You miss Jenna’s tracking eyes as you pour a hefty glass. “Is that really the best thing for you to have, especially after last night? Also, it’s like 4 PM.”

“I didn’t know you were the alcohol police and it’s 8 PM somewhere.” You take big gulps of the champagne, savouring the way it burned but also felt cool on the way down.

“Trust me, I’m not. But my ass is on the line here too and there are people watching.” She grits out the last part, signalling with her eyes. You glance up catching two girls from another table with their phones up, no doubt taking pictures and recording you and Jenna. 

Looking away, you place the glass flute down, sitting back in your seat with a slump. “Fine…”

“When are you going to take this seriously?” She whispers, tone: sharp.

“I am taking this seriously,” You fight to keep your face impassive knowing there are eyes on you both. 

“No, you’re not. You couldn’t even sit through the meeting this morning and now you’re acting like a child. Might I remind you, we’re in this mess because of you.”

You clench your jaw, trying your hardest not to blow up in this fine establishment. 

“I’m the reaso—“

“Are we ready to order?” The waitress cuts in.

“Yes, we are.” Jenna turns to her with that large, sweet smile that sells millions.

●●●

‘New Gal-Pals in Hollywood, Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega spotted out for lunch’

It was now the following day after your ‘lunch date’ with Jenna and you wish to say it only got better as time went on but that would be a lie. You two did not get along – at all. How was it possible for your management to find the one person on this planet that you just couldn’t get along with. 

You know difficult, you can handle difficult. You’ve worked with the likes of Shia Lebeouf, Gweneth Paltrow, Michael Bay… just to name a few. You’ve had your fair share of difficult colleagues.

But this girl? She’s something else. 

“Gal pals? Really?” Your nose scrunches in distaste.

“No wait, this one’s better! Wednesday star Jenna Ortega supports new bestie, Y/N L/N amid Vegas arrest.”

“Stop.” But Link’s loud laughter overpowers you.

“Oh! We got one that’s different, Trouble-maker, A-lister, Y/N L/N, will drag down rising-star Jenna Ortega!”

“Okay, that’s just bullshit.” You pique up.

“Rising star?” Jenna voices in disdain.

“Enough!” Liv’s voice echoes from your laptop speaker. “This isn’t the headline we wanted.”

You roll your eyes, scanning the candid photo of you and Jenna sitting at the restaurant.

The images look tame enough and can definitely be interpreted as just two friends out for a bite. News outlets don’t buy it, but the internet is already freaking out; spewing out unsolicited opinions on this new pairing. Some think you two are just friends, some think it’s a date, others think it’s for a movie role.

“I thought I did a good job,” Jenna speaks up on the other line of the Facetime call. 

“Clearly not…” You mumble, but she catches it anyway, rolling her eyes. 

“We need to up the ante, this is not good enough.” Liv sighs and you can hear the trepidation through the call.

“Like what?”

“There’s a Lakers game tonight and you two are making your first official appearance.” She grins with mischief.

“Lakers?” Jenna rouses, sounding excited.

“How would they interpret that differently than before?” Shaking your head.

“I got a plan already, darling. I have a guy in TMZ who’s going to break the first official headline that you two are in the ‘getting to know each other’ stage. Which is where you two come in… after the game headlines of your guys’ date night will be the number one trending topic.” She explains, eyes lighting up in excitement.

Liv loves to lay out her plans to whoever was willing to listen — you’re already tuning her out.

You are sure her plan is genius like she says it is.

“Are they versing someone decent, at least?” You ask tiredly. When were you going to get some time to yourself?

“Celtics.”

“I’m in.”

●●●

“Do you really have to wear sunglasses indoors? Everyone knows we’re here.” Jenna whispers from beside you.

“It’s part of the look.” You retort, sliding down the foldable chair. Why are courtside seats so uncomfortable for all the money I’m paying?

“What look.”

“We got two stars in the Lakers house tonight! Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega!”’ The announcer booms through the stadium speakers. 

Looking up at the jumbotron, you and Jenna are plastered big and bright on the screen. You flash a dazzling smile and force your body to untense – ignoring Jenna’s quip.

You embrace the loud cheers and applauds, waving and sending the camera that dazzling smile you have mastered. Jenna copies your movements.

Eventually, the camera pans away from you two and you finally feel like you can breathe again. 

“God, I think my eardrums ruptured.” She complains, clutching her earring clad-ears painfully.

You laugh, “Oh come on, you don’t have people shouting for your attention at you at every turn?”

She frowns, shaking her head, “Not at this level… I like to think I still have some anonymity.”

Snorting, you say, “Yeah well, just wait. That’ll all be gone — so enjoy it while you can.” 

You don’t see her frown deepen because you spot a familiar face. “Look who’s in the house!”

“Hey!” You stand briskly. Lebron James comes barreling over in large steps; greeting you with a hug and a pat on the back. 

“Feeling ready for tonight?” You ask, smiling up at the athlete. Being a big name in Hollywood definitely came with nice perks like knowing world-renowned athletes.

As much as you complain about your life – this is certainly a perk you can’t deny.

“You know it! We’re gonna mop the floors with your lil Celtics team.” He smirks making you laugh.

“Okay, save the trash-talking for the court... This is Jenna by the way.” You move to the side to reveal Jenna sitting; watching the two of you with a flabbergasted look on her face. 

“Nice to meet you, Jenna. My kids loved Wednesday, I think my daughter might dress up as you this Halloween.” He jokes; shaking her hand. 

It was quite an amusing sight to see Jenna crane her neck to meet the basketball player’s eyes. And you really tried your hardest not to snort when her tiny hands slide into his gigantic palms – her upper arm practically disappearing in his grasp.

They continue talking for a few more moments before the basketball player eventually bids his goodbye to continue warming up. 

“You’re friends with Lebron James?” She asked in disbelief when you sit back down.

“Yeah, is that surprising?” You arch a brow.

“Yes?” She asks like you were stupid for even asking.

You chuckle. “Well, now you know.” 

“Also… a Celtics fan, really? That’s just disgraceful.” She shakes her head.

You scrunch your face in faux annoyance, puffing your chest proudly, “Hell yeah the Celtics! We’re gonna wipe the court with your little Lakers in their own house.” 

“Don’t let people hear you say that, you’ll be stoned,” She laughs heartily. 

For a brief moment, you watch as she shakes in laughter at her own joke – unable to fight the infectiousness of her laugh. Her bangs shake with her movements as she attempts to hide her smile behind her hand.

Were you guys getting along? Nah, impossible. 

“I’ll just use you as a shield.”

“I’m like five-foot, I don’t think I’ll be much help.” She snorts. 

“Pocket-sized shield – makes travelling easier.” You shrug, smirking. 

She shoots you a side-eye but you see the smirk she tries to hide from you. 

Eventually, the national anthem is sung and tip-off begins. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying yourself right now. After the weekend disaster in Vegas, all you wanted to do was sleep away your fuck-ups. But this… isn’t so bad. 

Jenna seems to have loosened up and allowed herself to enjoy the game.

You cheer enthusiastically when the Celtics go on a 12-0 run in the fourth quarter. 

The score is 94 - 90, with the Lakers in the lead. You were standing now, your concession drinks and snacks forgotten under your chair. The energy in the stadium is infectious as everyone cheers for their respective teams.

“This is what I’m talking about, now we got a game!” You clap loudly, yelling.

“$100 Lakers win this one.” The sweet voice shouts over the crowd.

You turn, grinning. “That’s it? $1000, Celtics win.” 

The quiet contemplation is burning bright in her eyes, but eventually, she gives in extending her hand. “You’re on.”

Somehow, your grin stretches wider when she slides her hand in yours to seal the deal. “I can’t wait to be a $1000 richer.”

“In your dreams,” she clicks her tongue, focusing on the court.

“Come on ref, that was a foul!” She shouts at the checkered-shirt man as he runs past you.

She’s not looking at you but you find yourself unable to look away from her. 

Granted, you barely knew anything about Jenna before meeting her yesterday. But you think you like this laid-back version of her more than the one you met at first.

A whistle-blowing breaks your staring before it becomes too obvious.

Eventually, the game goes into overtime with the score being 104 - 104 when the Lakers gets both free throws in. You’re practically shaking in excitement as you watch from courtside.

You are bent over, hands on your knees like a soccer mom watching their kid get a penalty kick. You miss Jenna snapping a photo of the court with you bent over in the corner of the picture.

“Come on, Tatum!” You shout, a vein on your forehead protruding. 

“Did you say a $1000 richer?” She mocks, using your words against you.

“Don’t go on a victory lap yet,” You stand as the last time-out is called, “The score’s even and there’s still 5 seconds on the clock. It’s anybody's game right now.”

When the whistle blows signalling time-out is over, you are tense again. Jenna seems to share your sentiments as she absentmindedly grabs your jacket when the Celtics shooting guard walks behind the line to inbound the ball.

Anticipation getting the best of her.

You ignore the touch – unsure if you wanted to pull away or never move your arm again.

“Shit!” You yell when someone on the Lakers intercepts the Celtics attempt to inbound — sloppily passing it to another player in gold and purple. 

3 seconds remaining on the clock and a fast-break on the Lakers side ensues; green jerseys struggling to keep up.

“Schroder tips the Celtics inbound and manages to pass it off to Thompson, to James! James with a hail mary from half-court with 2 seconds, will he make it!” The announcer exclaims.

It was like the movies when everything goes silent and somehow you see everything in slow motion. You watch as the ball spins high above in the air with the powerful throw from the Laker’s power forward. The only thing you feel is Jenna’s fist gripping your arm, bunching the jacket in her hands. 

You unconsciously lean into her; the intensity of the room bouncing off you. 

The ball continues to spin until it amazingly flies through the basket with a satisfying swoosh and the buzzer rings loudly.

The crowd explodes – bursting into loud cheers. 

“Holy shit!” Jenna jumps, cheering.

“No fucking way.” You groan.

You feel her grab your shoulders to face her, still jumping up and down; a large smile on her face. You find yourself matching her grin despite your team not winning. 

Nodding in defeat, you admit, “Okay, okay… that was a pretty great game.”

“Great?” She shakes you like a rag doll, “That was the best game I’ve ever seen!” 

“Are you turning into a basketball fan, Miss Ortega?” You tease as she pulls away from you.

Still with a grin, she says, “Never… Football will always have my heart.”

“I didn’t peg you for an NFL fan but I guess I’ve heard stranger things.” You tease as she rolls her eyes.

“Soccer, Y/N.”

“Why didn’t you just call it the proper name then?”

“We are not starting this.” She holds a hand up, turning to sit back in her seat. The high of winning the bet, dwindling away.

●●●

“This is me…” Jenna says into the quiet night air. 

You shifted on your feet as you stood by your car. The night had been an unexpected…. success. After the game, you two made sure to stick around to chat and take pictures with fans in the crowd. 

The more eyes that saw you two together, the better. 

“Um… this was nice, I guess.” You mumble, feeling a bit awkward now that it was just you and her. 

She blinks up at you, surprised by your admission. “Uh – yeah, this wasn’t bad. Surprising, but not bad.” 

A small smile creeps on your face, “Okay, well I guess I’ll see you later… or whenever our managers say we need to be seen together again.” 

She laughs, nodding, “Yeah…”

A bright flash from your peripheral has you blinking, unfocused. “What the–”

“Paps…” She sighs. “Kiss my cheek.”

“What?” You asked bewildered.

She sends you a pointed look, turning her back from the direction of the flash so they couldn’t see her face. “Kiss my cheek, they’ll take a picture and then they’ll know we’re not just gal pals.”

Jenna is rolling her eyes but you’re still stuck in your spot. “Y/N.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you clear your throat, “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Something indecipherable shines in her eyes, but it disappears as she blinks, “You’re not asking for my hand in marriage, Y/N. Just kiss my cheek.”

Blushing, you lean down. Shyly placing your lips on her soft-dimpled cheek – she leans into the contact, placing a hand on your neck. Immediately, a flurry of bright flashes and sounds of clicking interrupt the moment. 

“Goodnight, Jenna.” You say softly once you pulled away; ignoring the goosebumps that rose on your skin.

“Goodnight.” She takes a moment to look at you before walking to unlock her gate.

You wait until she opens the metal door; not missing the kind eyes she shoots you as she shuts the gate. Only once Jenna’s out of your view did you let out a deep sigh, turning around.

“Y/N! Over here! Did you just kiss Jenna Ortega? What about the singer you were with in Vegas? Are you two over?”

You didn’t want to give the paparazzi lurking on her street more reason to stay, so you keep your head down ignoring their shouting and slip into your car.

●●●

“How was it?” Her sister’s voice can be heard on her phone. 

“Awful – she’s a menace, Mia.” Jenna replies as she opens her fridge, looking for a mid-afternoon snack. 

It was now Sunday afternoon and as predicted – you and Jenna are the top headline of every major news outlet in America. 

“Did you tell her that you loved her in Little Women?” 

“What? No, of course not! I’m not gonna tell her that.”

“Why not? You watched that movie like five times when it came out.” Her sister reminds.

“Shut up, Mia.”

“Okay, anyways…” She trails off, laughing. “I saw the pictures. You’re smiling pretty wide with her. Also the kiss on the cheek when she was dropping you off? Chef’s kiss. Just perfect.”

Jenna rolls her eyes, “It’s all part of the act. Of course, I look happy.”

“There’s videos of you jumping on her. I can barely scroll through my Twitter feed without seeing an edit of you two at the game.”

“Stop. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” Jenna snaps.

“Okay, okay…” Mia laughs and Jenna can picture her raising her hands in surrender. “Let’s talk about New York, are you excited?’

Jenna lets out a repressed sigh. With all of this PR mess with you, she hasn’t had time to think about how busy her schedule is about to be. The Scream VI premiere and SNL is inching closer and the Coachella native is feeling the familiar phantoms of anxiety rumbling in her chest. 

“Yeah, of course, I am. It’s SNL…”

“But?” Aliyah, her younger sister’s voice comes out of nowhere.

“But it’s SNL!” Jenna exclaims, “It’s a big deal! What if… what if I fuck up? Or I break character?”

“Okay… let’s take a deep breath,” Mia speaks up. She recognizes her sister’s looming anxiety and knew she had to act before the young actress sends herself into a panic. “You will kill it, like you always do and you won’t mess up. It’s okay to be a little nervous.

“Right, right.” Jenna agrees but the weighted pressure in her chest was still to creeping in.

Mia hums over the line unconvinced, “Listen, the whole family is flying in before your premiere. So don’t worry, we’ll be there, cheering you on!” 

Jenna can’t fight the smile that creeps up on her face. The thought of her family being there on one of the most important nights of her career is all she needs. They always had her back, picking her up when she felt like she couldn’t do it anymore. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate that.”

●●●

“You want me to fly to New York, to what– be her personal cheerleader?” You dead-pan, watching as Link frantically throws clothes and shoes into a suitcase. 

It’s been about a week since the Lakers and Celtics game and news of you and Jenna’s night out in town are still abuzz. The two of you made a couple more subtle appearances over the last couple of days and the media is eating it up shamelessly. Pictures of you and the star are plastered on the front pages; be it grabbing coffee or grocery shopping or walking your dog at the park.

Now, you couldn’t even step outside without someone hurling Jenna’s name at you.

But you couldn’t lie. It was nice to have some company while you run your errands. Only yours though — you hated when you had to do hers. Jenna always thought too hard about which cereal to get, like she’s ever home to eat it.

‘New budding romance in Hollywood? Do we have a new power couple on the rise with Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega? These two seem to be getting to know each other well… click here to read more’ 

Was the first thing you read when you turned on your phone this morning. 

Of course, it’s never that easy because there are still a handful of nobodies sending hateful messages about your criminal escapades – not everyone was convinced.

Some well-known people on social media – people you personally know are adding fuel to the fire; engaging in discourses of you and Jenna and if you are dragging her down just by being associated with you.

Fake-ass motherfuckers.

“Yes, I think those are the exact words Jake and Liv put in their texts, actually.” He reaches for his phone to read over the message; mocking you. 

“Stop, Link…” You run a hand on your face, “Tell them I’m not going. I have better things to do, Coachella is right around the corner and I literally have a song I need to send to my producer.”

He watches as you childishly cross your arms, scowling. 

If you weren’t his best friend he would’ve said goodbye to the Hollywood life – too rich for his blood. Link wasn’t sure how he still put up with your attitude after all these years. Could you have said those words any more snobbishly?

“Are you done?”

“No.”

“Well you don’t have a damn choice. Now, take a shower – Marcus will be here in an hour to drive us to LAX. And you can record in New York, no one said you had to be attached to Jenna’s hip.”

“What if I don’t want to.” You stand your ground. 

“Don’t do this today, Y/N.” He sighs. 

For a few moments, you hold your ground; contemplating if you should dig a hole and barricade yourself – metaphorically, of course. But never say never. 

Link raises a challenging brow – daring you to try him today. 

Wow, someone must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed…

Knowing what that look meant, you knew when to pick your battles and accepted the loss, trudging over to the master bathroom but not before slamming the door behind you.

“Don’t be slamming doors ‘round here! I don’t care if the house is under your name.” He shouts from the other side. 

“Fuck off!” You yell back, yanking your shirt off as the water turns hot.

He is such a dad.

–

“What are you doing here?”

“Hi to you too, Jenna. How was your day? Mine was great, the flight was a bit bumpy but I can handle a ‘lil turbulence. Thanks for asking.” You reply, ignoring the furrow in her brow hidden behind the silky fringe. 

You wonder what conditioner she uses to get her hair looking that soft.

“Y/N…” Jenna sighs, walking past you to enter your hotel suite. Walking into the living room to place her shoulder bag on the coffee table then she turns to face you, crossing her arms still waiting for an answer. “I’m serious, why are you in New York.”

You lean against a wooden panel, crossing your arms as well. “Didn’t your team tell you?”

Her frown deepens, patience thinning the longer you beat around the bush. “Obviously not or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Okay relax…” You warn not appreciating her tone. You literally just landed an hour ago and it’s almost midnight East Coast time. The timezone switch is fucking with you and her attitude is the last thing you need. 

“Don’t tell me to relax.” She snaps. The young actress hated those words, it always made her more riled up.

You scoff trying your hardest not to snap back but controlling your anger has never been your strong suit. “Why do you think I’m here? Liv told me I had to show face for your premiere and SNL episode. Be your cheerleader or some shit.”

She drops her arms, frown still etched on her soft face. What? Ignore that.

“Shit, I think Sarah might’ve mentioned it but I was just so busy with rehearsal and fittings with Enrique that I didn’t see.” Jenna sighs, rubbing her forehead.

For the first time since she barged into your room – you take a moment to scan her. Her face is bare and makeup free but you can see the dark smudges from her eyeliner earlier today just under the lashline. She was dressed in a large sweater and mismatched sweatpants; the sleeves are so long it covers half her hands and her short wavy locks tied into a messy low bun.

Her clothes practically engulfed her tiny stature. You figure this is a pretty rare sight that most people aren’t privy to and suddenly you’re unsure as to why it’s so hard to look away. 

“I didn’t mean to snap… I’m sorry.” She says quietly, looking at you like she was genuinely apologetic. 

“It’s fine…” You shrug and pushed off the wall to sit on the couch. Everyone has their days, you thought.

“I didn’t mean to ambush you. I really thought you knew I’d be here.” You turn on the TV, not being to stand the silence in the large room.

Jenna sits down beside you, tucking her feet against her chest. When did she take off her shoes? “It’s not your fault.”

The sigh she lets out is heavy and something tells you there’s some meaning behind it too. But you didn’t feel like it was your business so you zip it and continue watching the TV drone on about a program you don’t care about. 

“I saw clips of your SNL promo… I thought it was hilarious – you were great and that reporter outfit? So cool.” You change the subject. It gets her to smile as her dimples poke out, a little shy now. 

“It’s so cringy.” She covers her face. 

“Awh, nah… the internet loved it.” You laugh, a little amused that the actress was all flushed by a single compliment. 

Call it big-headed, call it ego, call it whatever you want but you personally relished it when people fawned over you. 

“Of course they did. They’re the whole reason for the meme.” She rolls her eyes after dropping her hands but she still had a toothy smile. 

“I bet that dance follows you everywhere…” 

“Every. Fucking. Day.” She says then raises a brow at you, “How do you know about the dance, though?’

You send her an affronted look, “I’m not a grandmother, Jenna. I know what’s hip with the kids.”

She snorts, “You’re an idiot – I just mean, I didn’t think you were on TikTok like that with a schedule like yours. Also, that app is toxic.”

“Every social media app can be toxic.” You quip, “But get off your high horse, your majesty. I literally just saw a couple of edits on Twitter of it.”

“Uh huh…” She hums, unconvinced, if the side glance she throws you was any indication. “But yeah the writers wanted to do a bit with Wednesday and this is what we came up with.”

“Well, I think it’s genius… from a business standpoint.” You offer up, nudging her shoulder then turning back to the TV.

You miss Jenna’s bothered frown. “Business standpoint?”

“Yeah,” You say off-handedly, “It’s smart, good for you.”

“Are most things a ‘business standpoint’ for you?” She asks, genuinely curious about what you could mean.

“Hmm. I guess I never thought of it like that but now that I’m saying it out loud, yeah, kinda.” You shrug, thinking about it. 

Most of the interactions in Hollywood that you have had are based on transactions and is usually for your own self-interest.

“...That’s kinda sad.” She says getting you to turn.

“What does that mean?” You frown.

“I’m just saying… there’s more to this industry than business deals and brand offers.” This time Jenna offers up a thought but it sounds a bit judgemental to you, shrugging.

You’re furrowing your brows, sitting up straight. “Look, you don’t even know me. Just forget what I said.”

But the laugh she lets out grinds your gears in the most unpleasant way.

Jenna holds up her hands in surrender but it feels mocking. “Clearly…” She emphasizes. “But I’m just saying, there’s no need to get all defensive.”

“Okay, I don’t know what kind of shit you were dealing with today but don’t take it out on me. Don’t come to my room talking about things you know nothing about.” You glower.

She matches your frown, standing. “It kinda sounds like you’re the one dealing with something, actually.”

“I think you should leave.” Your glare turns sharp and cold, standing too.

“Already on my way out.” She scoffed, snatching her bag aggressively off the coffee table then turns to walk to the front door. 

You follow to make sure the door hits her on the way out but she stops abruptly by the hall causing you to trip on your own feet to not tumble over her. 

“I think you should go back to L.A.” She glares up at you, tightly clutching her shoulder bag.

The laugh you let out is humourless, stepping back to create space between you and the other actress. “And get my ass handed to me by Jake, Liv and Sarah? They’re like four horsemen of the apocalypse – just searching for their last member. No thanks. You got a problem with me here? You deal with it.”

She clenches her jaw, “Done. Leave it to me.” Then turns and leaves making sure to slam the door shut. 

Those hotel doors weigh a fuck ton, how did she do that? And what did she mean leave it to me?

“Can I come out now?” Link peeks his head out from the adjoining room; fear present on his features.

●●●

:)

-

tagging who comment so far:

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley

[ssplague]

Chapter Five

Masterlist

Mature

Warnings: A/B/O themes, soulmates, mating, sex, manipulation, power and control, yandere, obsession, big dragon D, loss of virginity, lil bit of size kink, oral (fem receiving), animalistic/rough sex, half breed, magic, I’m sure I missed something but you get it NSFW

Honorable mentions 💌

@lalachanya  @mrsmelaninhood 

@whatdidshesayyy @faemagic88

@viridianhero  @alishii @rv19 

@maggiecc @Crazy-eight17 @nnubee @nemisimp @yesitsmewhataboutit @lizethcookie01 @thychuvaluswife

@dragonscribble

Humans are greedy, just as Dragons are selfish...I am both in one body

“Treasure…we’re here…wake up”

Katsuki’s gravely voice in your ear had your eyes lazily opening.

It certainly hadn’t felt like you’d slept for long, but you were able to feel the dragon had begun it’s decent. It was dark now, and as your eyes adjusted you began to notice that the once large blurry shapes have come to form as mountains surrounding on all sides. The landing was smooth, and much to your surprise Katsuki stood up with you still in his arms, and jumped down onto a ledge. “Wait just a minute, I need to talk to him” he says, setting your feet on the ground. The area you stand on is a dragon sized (give or take a few extra feet) ledge. An urge to peek over the edge is easily forgotten once you realize how many stories up you just might be.

“No one is to bother us for the rest of the week, and seeing as you are one of the only two people that know how to get to where we are, I’m expecting you to see to that Shitty scales” The king seemed to finally be wrapping up his list of expectations, bring the lecture chat with Kirishima to a close. You had your back to the two of them as you inspected the nearby mouth of a cave, you weren’t able to see much due to darkness. Just how far inside the mountain does it go?

“Let’s get inside, I’m sure it’s a little chilly out here for you” Katsuki’s voice comes from behind you. Swooped off your feet and back into your king’s arms, he carries you into the dark cave. Surprisingly the walk wasn’t too long, you stared at the rock wall blocking your path. Before you could ask, he shifts your weight to one arm so his other hand can press against the stone.

The wall vanishes and he carries you further inside the cavern.

Treasure is all you can see, shiny things, sparkling things, piled high from floor to ceiling.

“What is this place? This is amazing” you ask in complete awe.

“It’s OUR horde, this is all partially your’s” he answers “I’ll let you go through it to your hearts content at some point while we’re here…after other things are taken care of”. 

Your eyes continue to roam across the glittering piles as he carries you. Turning towards a space carved out in the wall with a large curtain over it. “This wasn’t here before, I made it after I met you…” Bakugou says, pausing to pass through the curtain “It’s our home away from home I guess…What d’you think?”. He watches you closely after setting you back on your feet. Walking further inside you look around; Suprised to see what had to be a fireplace carved into the stone, a fancy area rug laid out infront of it, and one large cushioned arm chair sitting off to the side. Pots and pans hung neatly in a row above a small wooden table with two chairs on either side of it. Upon further inspection of the stone walls you see some smaller slots hollowed out that served as shelves for books, and other large trinkets. “It’s wonderful, how thoughtful of you to put in so much work at creating this space for us” you replied in awe at the other lavish decorations throughout the room. Once the fire is started and the space is softly illuminated something catches your eye. Curiously moving closer to what at first appeared to be a pile of bedding, you begin to examine the area. “Thats our nest…I mean that’s where we’ll sleep or whatever” The king is quick to nervously blurt out, but still doing his best to appear nonchalant on the matter. Looking back over your shoulder you notice his back is to you as he busied himself pouring two glasses of wine.

Should I take these off now or..?

Without a second thought your cloak and cape are shed. 

You crawl into the nest, setting them off to the side of the comfy blankets, pillows are stacked up to surround and enclose the entire space. 

“It won’t take long to warm up in here, dragon fire burns hotter than any other type of flame so-“ the words he’d been so carelessly blabbering died in his throat as he turned to look at you. Cocking your head to the side you can’t help but innocently ask “Something wrong?”.

”No…Nothings wrong” Bakugou responds, not even trying to pretend he wasn’t hungrily devouring the sight of your almost nude body. “Come join me my King, the nest is so empty with just me in it” you pat the space beside you before laying back on your elbows, stretching your body out atop the soft bedding. He reaches you in just a few strides, handing you the wine glass carefully before sitting down beside you.

“To our now shared life” Your husband offers raising his glass to your’s. “To our long, happy, healthy, and prosperous shared life” you rephrase with a cheeky smile.

“That sounds a lot better” 

Clinking your glasses, you take a long swig of the fruity liquid it’s bitter but the rich sweetness curbs any unpleasant taste. The two of you are silent while you finish drinking, handing your empty glass to Katsuki he sets them off to the side of the bed by bottle he’d brought over. You rest against the pile of pillows, trying to not look as nervous as you feel. He takes his cape off, laying it near your’s before coming back to your side.

“Im not experienced…So I don’t exactly know what or how I should do this” you blurt out. The feel of his hands on you had the fire in your belly reignited instantly.

“I’ll show you once we get there, right now I’m just admiring my gorgeous wife” Katsuki gives you a smile that puts his fangs on display.

His hands are slowly dragging up along the exposed skin of your torso, down your hips. 

Want me to stop?” He asks with mock concern. “No! I just..please don’t stop…Touch me more” you whine, embarrassed at your petulant, almost childlike behavior.

You don’t know how to convey what you’re feeling and it’s frustrating. “Calm down…it’s okay”

Katsuki sensed your frustration, and set about reassuring you.

Both of his hands come up to cup each of your breasts, his calloused thumbs swipe across the little triangles made of scales that had been hiding your nipples. He loves the way your breath caught in your throat as the rough feel of the fabric scrapes your sensitive peaks. Briefly letting go to untie the top and toss it aside, groaning in appreciation of the way your jiggling chest is now exposed. He gives each one of your tits a squeeze, enjoying the way they feel in his hand. Your breathing speeds up again once his tongue circles one of your nipples, the other getting pinched and pulled. Alternating which one he licked and suckled, while the other is abused by his fingers. The pitch of your voice grew continuously higher as the sounds spilling out of your mouth grow louder.

What started out as dull, but now became an ever increasing, wet ache between your legs,bis working your already chaotic mind into a nonsensical frenzy.  You open your mouth at the slightest touch of his tongue on your lips, letting it coil with your’s briefly. He pulls away a second later, and his fingers are removed from your sex. Before you can do more than pout it’s replaced with his tongue, the wet muscle lapping at your fluttering hole before his lips are suctioned to your clit. It would be utterly humiliating to remember how desperately you humped against his mouth for a mere two minutes before you came. The startled cry that escaped you was echoed back throughout the cave.

A hand cups your cheek a few moments later, lips ghosting over your’s. “Is my queen nice and ready for me now? Dont tell me you’re all worn out, the night has just begun” the gruff voice of Katsuki has a teasing tone to it as he kisses a trail down your neck. “O-Of course im ready for you! I was just…recovering from uh…whatever that was!” You stutter slightly, anxiety evident in your eyes.

“Stop worrying, just let me take care of you…” Katsuki trails off, and you feel the blunt head of his cock kiss your entrance. 

Submit.

Your legs wrap around his waist as he begins to push inside of you. Taking a deep breath you close your eyes to keep yourself from seeing what has to be a monster cock splitting you open. Not that you exactly have anything to properly base your opinion off of in comparison, but what you felt thus far fueled your virgin fears exponentially. You whine softly as your body struggles to accommodate your half dragon husband’s impressive length. The pained grimace on your face, along with your trembling lips made him want to taunt you as he bullies himself into you. However; You were trying so hard and being so good for him, he wouldn’t dream of teasing you even in the slightest. His eyes flit down to where your bodies are conjoined, he wasnt even halfway inside of you before being met with resistance. A sharp inhale comes from you as his tip prods against the fleshy barrier.

“You’re doing good angel, Its gonna hurt for a minute but I promise it will be worth it”His hand takes your’s and he presses a kiss to each knuckle “Hold my hand baby”.

You grip his hand tightly, willing your body to relax as you look up into the king’s eyes. 

This wasn’t exactly enjoyable, and the promise of more pain had the tears welling up in your eyes threatening to spill over. “You are so beautiful…” Katsuki whispered “Im a lucky fucker to have you as my queen”.

His voice soothed you and made it slightly easier to relax, 

“Do you remember what you had asked me that night in the corridor?” He stares into your eyes, awaiting a response to the question. Somehow you hadn’t noticed how large your husband was until now, it was actually rather daunting to have him looming over you. The flickering fire light isn’t bright enough to illuminate his now cat like pupils, but it did glint off the scattered patches of scales that have appeared on his various appendages. These sudden changes in his appearance 

Only managed to make your need for him grow even stronger. 

“What?” You ask dumbly, tongue swiping over your kiss swollen lips.

“I know you remember….Treasure” the red in his eyes has become iridescent, the glowing crimson circles reminding you of hot coals.

Treasure 

A shameless moan leaves you from the slightest roll of his hips, just like it did back then.

“I want you…. I want you to ravage me…my king…my Katsuki…show me how…” you paused as your even breaths become ragged, desperately panting out the rest “Shh-shoow me how how a dragon makes love”.

                       *   🍻  *

With the bride and groom gone, only a select handful of people were still in the castle celebrating.

Izuku had been laughing and drinking with the royal family’s circle of trusted knights well into the evening. The green haired man was currently leaning against a wall in some random corridor, he had escorted Ochacko to the bathroom. She was swaying on her feet and giggling uncontrollably, he didn’t trust the witch not to get lost, or fall asleep somewhere.

Footsteps were approaching, a stunning black haired woman suddenly appeared at his side. “Hello!” He greeted the stranger a bit too enthusiastically, who regards him with suprise. “Good evening young man….I’m the crown’s Oracle Midnight” the beautiful woman offered her hand as her amethyst eyes study his appearance.

“Ah I sincerely apologize my lady” Izuku stammers, bowing awkwardly while pressing a kiss to the back of her offered hand “My name is Izuku Midoryia I’m an old friend of the Royal family”. Recognition suddenly shone on the oracle’s face, though it went unnoticed by the bashful Alchemist.

“Lady Midnight? I was wondering if-“ Izuku goes quiet at Ochako’s sudden, not to mention loud reappearance. “Found youuuuu Zuku!” The bubbly brunette chuckles, capturing hold of his arm. Taking notice of Midnight, the inebriated young witch gives her a wide smile “Oracle! Nice to see ya again”. “Likewise, it’s been a while hasn’t it?” The onyx haired woman replied “Well I was just on my way to my room to retire, Have a nice night you two”. “Wait Oracle! I have a question to ask, woah Uraraka be careful!” In the brief second he took to right his balance, Midnight had disappeared.

I’m sorry Midoryia, but it’s not time for our meeting to take place just yet…Hopefully we won’t actually end up needing to have another one at all…This is what I pray for.

                       *    🏔️   *

A fierce growl startles you as  Katsuki captures your lips in a ferocious kiss, despite the initial fear, you were quickly allowing yourself to get lost in this sudden surge of unrestrained passion. With a forceful push of his hips he succeeded in breaking you open, the pained cry you emitted is smothered against his mouth. Your legs were shaking around his now still hips, he nibbles on your neck as your insides adjust to accommodate him. The walls surrounding his cock began to flutter, still gripping it tightly. Giving an experimental rut of his hips, the king waits for your response and you nod. Starting off slow is difficult enough for the hot headed dragon, but once your shared euphoric sounds began echoing off the cave walls his pace increases. The motions have your body rocking forward and back, your nails having been filed into points earlier barely left a scratch on the skin of his biceps as you try to hold onto him. It was amazing how your much smaller body could even accommodate him, the fit was a tight squeeze but the continuos clench of your velvet walls had both of you making your way towards absolute bliss. The magic being transmitted and mixed together from your union, had the air around you two crackling, it was like, fireworks dancing on your tongues with each shared kiss.

By the time you had began rocking your hips in time with your lover’s, both of you were growing increasingly desperate. Tongues and teeth clash as if you were attempting devour each other, it was exhilarating to be so sloppy, so wild for the first time in your life. So when Katsuki abruptly breaks the kiss, the whine you let out as he dodges your attempt to reconnect lips is pathetic. A familiar weight on your throat stops the oncoming fit you were planning to throw, a soft sigh accompanied fluttering lashes is what you give the king instead as he stares down at you.

‘You are mine, your heart? Mine, Your soul? Mine, Your body? Mine!  No one else will ever have you, no one else other than me will ever experience what’s it’s like to be loved by you..understand?”

“Yes..I heard every word..m’all yours my king” a loud mewl follows your reply as his cock prods that special spot in your depths.

“You are my greatest treasure Y/n, that being said; Humans are greedy, just as Dragons are selfish...I am both in one body...I would spill blood until it dyes the earth surface red to keep you with me, slaughter countless armies of anyone who would attempt to take you away from me...Your life belongs to me, just as my life now belongs to you...” His lips tickled the shell of your ear as his low raspy voice spoke into it, kissing your temple before going silent once more.

How could such a twisted, violent declaration of love be spoken so seductively? The way your body tingled as he whispers such filth into your ear has you trembling, completely overcome by your own chaotic emotions. One thing was for certain, the way each of you felt for one another was completely mutual.

Your second orgasm of the night was distracting enough to ignore the pain that would have accompanied his fangs sinking into the delicate flesh of your neck. Feeling your cunt spasm around his length as he marked you made the dragon king roar in ecstasy as he came inside of you. A short while later, Katsuki’s head rests just below your breasts, eyes closed as a pleased grow rumbles in his chest. Absentmindedly letting your fingers run through his messy hair, you wonder if loving this man would always make you feel as amazing as you did in this moment. Surely it will grow even stronger over time, and you let yourself imagine the future with a happy sigh. It wasn’t for long though, as the weight on top of you shifted and you felt a tongue lave across the bloodied skin of your neck. Followed by soft suction that effectively removes any more of the dried flakes from around the wound. Large hands squeeze at your soft flesh while prying apart your thighs, a sudden gasp escaping as your beloved enters you without warning.

Guess you’re in for a long night.

A/N: Don’t worry I assure you that this isn’t the only smut scene in this story! This is only the warm up yall, plenty more dragon dick downs to come 😜 I know I already apologized but I’m just going to do it again. I’m so sorry for the wait you guys 😩 I do have a SUPRISE! (Or rather surprises). Three new stories are dropping!

You guys know it’s damn near impossible for me to write a stand alone, but one of these is a super long one shot! Another is going to be a two part, and the other I’m not sure how long it will be yet but I’m trying to keep it short (depending on what you guys feel). I have so many stories I’ve been working on, jumping back and forth between all of them. I really want to share them, so I’m pushing myself.

I love you guys so much and I want to give you plenty of interesting works to read! As well as finishing up those that I have already put out! I understand how upsetting it is when your favorite story doesn’t seem like it’s ever going to be completed 🥺💔Unfortunately a lot of the series I have personally enjoyed just haven’t been updated, so I know how bad that SUCKS!

I’ve also got an appreciation post I need to put up & I’ll be tagging a lot of you amazing people because you guys have literally made me cry with some of your compliments & kind words!

I love you all so much!!!

❤️‍🔥

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 5: Heartbeat Havoc

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 6.3k

Chapter 5/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: it's only up from here

18+ Minors DNI (mature)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

"So, the release went well, but now we need to capitalize on the momentum. What we don't want is for you to disappear after the premiere," You leaned back into your chair, twirling a pen between your fingers as you spoke on the call. Your tone was confident but measured, ensuring there wasn't too much enthusiasm. You knew your client well enough to know this was a serious conversation.

Tanya Lawrence, an early twenties actress who had just starred in a blockbuster film, was on speaker, along with her agent and manager. You were coming up with a game plan to keep her in the spotlight and sustain the momentum—not only to continue promoting the film but to elevate Tanya herself.

Tanya's voice was thoughtful as she replied, “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. But I don’t want to do the same press rounds everyone else does. I mean, how many times can you sit on a couch and tell the same story?”

You smiled, fully expecting her reluctance. Tanya was always searching for something fresh. It was part of what made her appealing, but also part of the challenge of keeping her relevant without overexposing her.

"I hear you," You said, jotting down a note on your tablet. "The late-night circuit can get a bit tired, but we still need to keep you visible. How about this: we skip the talk shows and go for an exclusive feature with Vogue or Elle? We’ll craft a personal story—something deeper than just promoting the film. We’ll show your evolution from indie darling to blockbuster star. It’s more narrative-driven, more you."

There was a pause, then her manager chimed in, his voice skeptical but intrigued. “How personal are we talking?”

“Not too much," You assured him. "We’re not looking to dig into her private life—just enough to give the audience something to connect with. We’ll focus on her as an actress and philanthropist. Maybe highlight her charity work? The key is controlling the narrative.”

Tanya's voice came through, warmer now. “I love that idea. I’ve been wanting to talk more about the foundation. If we can connect that, it would feel real, not like I’m just selling myself.”

You nodded, already sketching out the potential angles. "Exactly. And we can play it across platforms—get some behind-the-scenes content on social media to drive engagement, maybe even a short Instagram series showing a day in your life. That way, you’re not just doing the standard PR push but building a brand around authenticity.”

The enthusiasm on the other end was palpable now. Tanya's agent was already chiming in with ideas on how to expand the campaign, and her manager was starting to see the vision.

"You’ve always got the best ideas," Tanya said, and you could hear the smile in her voice.

You chuckled. "That’s why you keep me around."

The call wrapped up, and you took a moment to breathe. Another client managed, another fire successfully put out. You were in the zone—this was what you were good at. A notification lit up the screen as you closed your notebook and checked your phone.

"Is Love in the Air? Natasha Romanoff Seen Leaving Concert with New Flame"

Your stomach did a little flip. The photo was grainy and interesting for today’s time, but you knew it was the two of you leaving the concert venue last weekend. It hadn’t taken long for people to start talking, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it all. You tried not to think about the sudden influx of followers you’d gotten or the interest of every possible gossip rag in suddenly taking a deep dive into your life.

As a publicist, you were no stranger to media frenzy, but it was different when you were the story. You’d spent years helping clients navigate this kind of attention, knowing exactly how to spin, deflect, and maintain privacy. But now, as the headlines circled you and Natasha, it felt oddly invasive.

You sighed, locking your phone and rubbing your temples. This wasn’t exactly how you imagined things going with Natasha. A quiet fling, maybe, or just a few months of fun before things inevitably fizzled. But the way her hand had lingered on yours that night, the way she looked at you when she thought no one was watching—something about it felt more... real. And now, the world was catching on.

Focus, y/n, you told yourself, pushing the thought aside. You weren’t going to let this derail your work. Natasha had dealt with the media for years—she could handle it. The question was, could you?

Your office door creaked open, and Monica strolled in, her usual swagger in every step. She leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing her arms with an amused smile.

“You see the headlines?” She asked, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You shot her a look, already knowing where this was headed. “You mean the ones making me sound like some groupie?”

Monica laughed, moving to sit across from you. “Please, Natasha Romanoff’s mystery woman has a much better ring to it. Plus, who says groupies can’t be successful?”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “I didn’t ask for this attention, Mon.”

“You’re dating a rockstar. What did you expect?” she teased before her tone softened. “But for real, how are you feeling about it?”

You hesitated, twirling the pen in your fingers, not quite sure how to put it into words. “It’s... strange. I’ve always kept my private life private, you know? And now I’m on the front page, just because I went on a date.”

Monica nodded, her expression shifting to something more serious. “It’s a lot. But you’re the queen of handling this kind of thing. You’ve dealt with bigger fires. And Natasha... well, she’s used to it.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, but this feels different. It’s one thing to be in control of someone else’s narrative, but when it’s you...”

Monica tilted her head, studying you. “You really like her, don’t you?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the question. You hadn’t even allowed yourself to fully consider that yet. Did you? The two of you were just getting to know each other. It wasn’t supposed to be serious. But the way you smiled at the thought of her, the way your stomach fluttered when her name popped up on your phone—it was all too familiar.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “It’s moving fast.”

“You fucked didn’t you?” Monica began to grin.

Your eyes widened. “Jesus, Monica." You cursed. You looked back to your office door, the one she'd decided to leave open, and then back to her. She folded her arms knowingly and you sighed.

"Maybe?" You responded with a smirk. "Or... several times? I lost count that night."

"Oh my god!" Monica cackled. "I knew it. I'm so proud of you."

"Proud shouldn't be the word used for that," You shook your head. "Oh, and Sam decided to bring Isabella home early the next morning so they met each other much sooner than I expected. She also introduced herself as my girlfriend."

"Ooh, and how did Sam react?" Monica knew your ex-husband just as well as she knew you.

"He was shocked but also not shocked." You begin. "I just hoped it wasn't something that made Natasha question what we have going on. I mean anyone would be threatened to have the ex just casually standing in the living room."

"Nah, the woman is head over heels," Monica assured. "Besides, Sam's a good guy, and he's not a possessive ex. So, back to the importance, was she good?"

You couldn't help but smirk. "Yes, she was very good."

Monica smiled, nodding approvingly. "Good. Well, I'm happy for you. It's been a while since you've had some good sex, and even longer since you've had a good woman."

"Somehow you and my daughter are the same person just in different fonts," You mused at her words. "You have no idea how much Bella asked about her."

"What can I say, we both have good taste," Monica smiled. "Anyway, back to work. I'll let you enjoy your celebrity-adjacent status. It’s interesting really how you’ve managed to stay so lowkey. I mean Sam is famous, your parents are famous…”

You chuckled. "It's a blessing and a curse. You can't blame them for being overprotective though. They just wanted to protect their daughter and granddaughter from the limelight. It's why I stayed off the radar."

Before she could question it further, there was a slight knock at the door. An unassuming man with a delivery hat and a gorgeous bouquet caught your attention.

"Are you, Y/n?" He asked.

"Yes," You replied, a little surprised. You watched as the man set the vase down, signed for the delivery, and thanked him. Monica watched in interest.

"What's that for?" Monica asked.

"I have no idea," You replied, a little puzzled. You plucked the card from the bouquet and unfolded it, curious. As your eyes skimmed the neat handwriting, your heart skipped a beat.

“Just in case you needed a little brightness in your day. My time with you was amazing, being with you makes everything even better. — N”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips, warmth spreading through your chest. Natasha had a way of being sweet without overdoing it—something that caught you off guard every time.

Monica raised an eyebrow, leaning over to get a glimpse of the card. “Ohhh, so the rockstar is a romantic.”

You laughed softly, tucking the card back into the bouquet. “Apparently. She’s full of surprises.”

Monica grinned, leaning back in her chair. “Girl, you’ve got it bad.”

You tried to ignore the flush that crept up your neck, your eyes drifting back to the bouquet on your desk. Maybe you did.

**********

Natasha wiped the sweat from her forehead, adjusting her grip on the barbell before settling into her seat. The gym was practically empty, just the way she liked it. Wanda was a few feet away, doing leg presses with ease while music pulsed through the space, the rhythm of the beats syncing with the steady clank of weights hitting the floor. Just as Natasha was about to dive into her next rep, her phone buzzed on the bench beside her. She hesitated for a second, but the moment she saw your name flash across the screen, she abandoned the barbell with zero hesitation.

Y/N: Thank you for the flowers 🌸 They’re almost as beautiful as the woman who sent them. Almost.

Natasha smirked as she leaned against the bench, typing back with one hand while the other still held onto the towel slung around her neck.

Natasha: Almost? I must be slipping. I’ll have to step up my game. 😏

She hit send, already imagining the soft laugh she knew you would give at the response. She wasn’t usually one for the whole romantic gesture thing, but with you, it felt... right. You were different, and Natasha could feel herself getting pulled deeper into this thing between you.

Wanda finished her set and glanced over, eyebrow arched as she caught Natasha mid-text. “You’re supposed to be working out, not flirting,” Wanda teased, giving her a knowing look.

Natasha didn’t bother hiding her smile. “Can’t help it. It’s... motivation.”

Wanda chuckled, moving to grab her water bottle. “Yeah? Motivation or distraction?”

Natasha shrugged, her eyes flicking back to her phone as it buzzed again.

Y/n: If this is you slipping, I can’t wait to see you in top form. Maybe tonight?

Natasha’s breath hitched slightly at the invitation, her mind already racing ahead to the possibilities of your date later. She glanced over at Wanda, who was watching her with mild amusement.

Natasha: Tonight, then. I’ll pick you up. Get ready to be impressed. 😉

Wanda raised an eyebrow as she stretched her arms. “You’re really into her, huh?”

Natasha paused, glancing at her friend before nodding. “Yeah, I think I am.”

Wanda smiled, something in her expression softening. She knew how guarded Natasha could be when it came to dating, so it was a relief to see her opening up again.

"Good," Wanda said simply. "I think you two look cute together. She's a breath of fresh air."

"Yeah," Natasha agreed. "She's different."

Wanda's smile grew wider. "You're different with her."

"Different how? I mean you've only seen us together once," Natasha wiped her brow again.

"Just different, a good different. You've got that glow that you used to have when you and Carol were first starting." Wanda pointed out. "You know before shit hit the fan."

"Hmm, maybe. We'll see." Natasha took a swig from her water bottle. "She's cool. She's secure in herself which is a pretty huge deal. It doesn't come across as cocky or anything."

"That's important. Especially in our field." Wanda nodded.

Natasha smiled to herself as she thought about the last time you’d kissed her goodbye. Your lips had tasted like mint toothpaste, your hands gentle and warm against her skin. It was such a simple thing—just a goodbye kiss—but it had stayed with her all day. She couldn’t wait to spend more time with you tonight.

"Well, I’m happy for you," Wanda said, breaking Natasha from her thoughts.

"Thanks," Natasha replied, feeling her cheeks warm as she thought about you again. "I'm... happy too."

It was true. Happy wasn’t a word Natasha often used to describe herself when it came to relationships. Her past romances had always been complicated, intense, and full of drama. It was almost a given that things would eventually blow up—whether it was her fault or the other person’s. But with you? It felt different.

She wanted it to be distinguishable.

For once, Natasha didn’t want a relationship that was marked by chaos or suffocating intensity. She didn’t want someone who would cling to her or become overly dependent, and she didn’t want to lose herself in someone else’s need for attention or validation. She’d been there before—too many times—and it always ended with someone getting hurt, usually her.

But with you, it felt like things could be... simple. Easy, even.

You weren’t trying to force your way into her life or demand all her time. You didn’t seem interested in changing her, and you weren’t fazed by her fame or reputation. If anything, you were the one who kept a distance from the spotlight, which Natasha found both refreshing and grounding. She liked that you had your own life, your own career, and your daughter to focus on. You didn’t need her to complete you.

That’s what Natasha craved—someone who wanted her but didn’t need her in the way that had always made her feel trapped before. She wanted love, yes, but not the kind that suffocated. She just wanted something real, something healthy. She wanted to feel safe and comfortable, the way she already did with you.

For the first time in a long time, Natasha felt like this could work. It was early, sure, but she couldn’t help but hope that maybe this time things would be different. Maybe this time she wouldn’t screw it up.

She glanced at her phone again, re-reading your last message. Her heart did that annoying little flip it had been doing more often these days, and she chuckled to herself.

***********

You stood in front of the mirror, staring at the dress you’d just slipped into, second-guessing yourself for what felt like the tenth time in an hour. It was a deep burgundy, with a flattering neckline, but was it too much? You tugged at the hem, frowning.

“I don’t know about this one,” You muttered, glancing over your shoulder at Monica and Isabella, who were both sitting on your bed, staring at you with varying levels of judgment.

Monica leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed. "It’s cute, but it feels a little... formal."

"Yeah, Mom," Isabella added, making a face. "It’s like you’re going to a wedding."

You sighed dramatically, turning back to the mirror. "Why is this so hard?" you grumbled, tossing your hair over your shoulder. "It’s just a date."

Isabella giggled, swinging her legs back and forth. "Not just any date. It’s Natasha Romanoff!"

Monica snorted. "Right? Rockstar extraordinaire."

You rolled your eyes, walking over to the closet and grabbing another dress off the hanger. "She’s just... Natasha," you said, trying to sound casual, but the butterflies in your stomach betrayed you. The truth was, Natasha wasn’t just any date. She had a way of making you feel both grounded and completely out of control, and that was terrifying.

Monica raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that."

You tossed the burgundy dress on the bed and slipped into a simpler black one. “Okay, how about this?” you asked, turning to face them again.

Isabella tilted her head, considering it. “Better,” she said. “But... kind of boring.”

Monica nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it’s cute, but you can do better. You’re going on a date with a rockstar, not attending a PTA meeting."

You huffed, pulling the dress off and tossing it aside, feeling a mix of frustration and nervous energy. "I just... want to look good," you admitted. "Not too overdressed, not too underdressed. Just right."

Monica smiled gently, getting up from the bed and walking over to your closet. "You’re overthinking it," she said, flipping through the hangers. "Natasha likes you, right? So whatever you wear, she’s going to think you look great."

You sighed, sitting down on the bed next to Isabella, who leaned against you, her little arm wrapping around your waist. "You think so?"

"Definitely!" Isabella chirped. "Plus, you always look pretty, Mama."

You kissed the top of her head. "Thanks, baby."

Monica finally pulled out a deep green two-piece pantsuit, simple but elegant, with just the right amount of edge. "What about this one?" she asked, holding it up.

You stared at it for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Yeah... I like that one."

Monica tossed it over to you with a grin. "Perfect. Now go get ready so I can get the scoop later."

You laughed, slipping into the outfit and smoothing the top down over your belly. "You’re not getting any scoop."

"We’ll see about that," Monica teased, winking at Isabella, who giggled.

As you slipped on a pair of heels and checked your reflection one last time, Isabella tugged at your hand. “Mom?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

"Do you like Natasha?" she asked, her voice innocent but curious. "Like... like like her?"

You paused, looking down at your daughter’s wide eyes. Monica raised an eyebrow, waiting for your response. It was a fair question, and one you’d been asking yourself a lot lately.

"I do," You finally said, feeling a little nervous saying it out loud. "I really do."

Isabella smiled. "Good. I think she likes you too."

You chuckled, smoothing a hand over her hair. "Yeah? You think so?"

Isabella nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I saw the way she looked at you when she came over last time. She was smiling a lot."

Monica smirked from the corner of the room. "Out of the mouths of babes..."

You laughed, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered at Isabella's words. Was it possible Natasha was already falling for you too?

A knock on the door made you jump, and Isabella squealed, running towards the door. "She's here!"

You took a deep breath, smoothing the front of your shirt and trying to calm your nerves. "Tell her I'll be right there."You called after her.

Isabella was more than happy to answer the door for Natasha. She swung it open with gusto, Bear hot on her tail, as she greeted the woman.

"Hey," Natasha said with a big smile.

"Hi, Natasha," Isabella said with a toothy grin. "Mama's almost ready. You can come in." She leads Natasha over to the living room and sits across from her on the couch. "Before she comes out I want to ask you a few questions."

Natasha was taken aback in an amused sort of way. "Questions?"

"Yup," Isabella said, a serious look on her face. "If my mom makes you mad, are you gonna write a mean song about her?"

Natasha had to hold back her laughter. She loved Isabella's forwardness and honesty. It was refreshing. "No. I don't write songs about people I care about. Plus, I'm not sure your mom could ever make me mad."

"She has her moments," Isabella shrugged. "Another question, Why do you like my mom? Not just for her body or her money or anything. I've been reading a lot of old school magazines lately and I have all of the information."

Natasha bit her lip and cleared her throat. "Uh, well, your mom is very kind and sweet. She's smart, and she has a really good sense of humor."

"And you're not using her for money?"

"Of course not."

Isabella seemed satisfied with her answers. She nodded. "Okay. Good. I like you, Natasha."

"Thanks, kiddo. I like you, too," Natasha chuckled.

"Do you think I could score backstage tickets to your next concert? I promise I'll behave."

"Isabella..."

Isabella rolled her eyes at your stern tone as you rounded the corner. "Fine." She sighed.

"Hey," You said softly, walking up to the pair, a small smile on your lips.

"Wow." Natasha breathed, taking in the sight of you. You looked incredible. "You look... good."

"Thank you so do you," You leaned into her embrace when she stood to kiss you on the cheek. You subtly glanced at her outfit, glad that you'd picked your casual one too. Natasa's dark denim jacket draped effortlessly over a loose white t-shirt. She wore Black skinny jeans, slightly distressed at the knees, and hugged her legs, giving her a subtle edge without trying too hard. Clean white sneakers grounded her look. A simple silver chain glinted at her collarbone, and her hair fell in tousled waves around her face, giving the impression that she hadn’t overthought any of it—yet still managed to look effortlessly striking.

"Thank you," Natasha said.

"You're welcome," You hummed as you pulled back from the hug, the scent of her perfume filling your nose.

"Okay, we'll be fine, Mama." Isabella gave a thumbs up. "Go have fun. Don't stay out too late."

You laughed. "We'll try not to," you promised. "And no ice cream past ten, okay?"

"Okay," Isabella rolled her eyes.

"Don't forget Bear's walk," you added.

"Mama," Isabella whined. "We got this. Go!"

"Alright, alright," You chuckled, turning to Natasha. "Ready?"

"Lead the way," Natasha smiled.

"Have a good time, ladies!" Monica called as the two of you made your way out the door.

Natasha held your hand as the two of you walked to the car, her fingers rubbing your knuckles soothingly.

"So where are we going?" You asked, glancing over at her.

Natasha grinned, squeezing your hand. "It's a surprise."

"Oh, a surprise?"

"Yup," She said. "Wait," She said just before opening the door. You turned to face her questioningly. She leaned forward, pressing her lips gently against yours.

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected move, and you let yourself sink into the kiss, savoring the way her lips felt against yours. It was soft and sweet.

"I figured you wouldn't want to do that in front of your daughter," Natasha mumbled awkwardly.

You laughed, resting your hands on her shoulders and pecking her lips again. "That was very thoughtful. Are you really not going to tell me where we are going?"

"I could tell you, but where's the fun in that?" She smiled, opening the car door and ushering you inside. As the car rolled down the busy streets, you found yourself stealing glances at Natasha. The way she carried herself, with a mix of confidence and ease, was enchanting. Her posture was relaxed but commanding, and even the simple act of driving seemed to radiate a kind of effortless cool.

The radio played a mix of tracks that Natasha had curated—a blend of classic rock and some modern hits that seamlessly complemented her edgy style. You could see the genuine enjoyment on her face as she sang along to the lyrics, her voice harmonizing effortlessly with the tunes. It was moments like these that made you appreciate the depth of her passion for music and the way it intertwined with every part of her life.

As the car pulled up to the restaurant, Natasha turned to you with a soft smile. "Hope you like this place. I've been wanting to check it out for a while."

You read the giant side on the outside of the building, The Cooking Institute.

"Cooking classes?" You guessed aloud. Natasha glanced over at you.

"I hope that's okay," She said quickly, suddenly a bit unsure of her plan. "I know it's a little unconventional, but I figured it could be fun. If not, we can just grab a drink somewhere or-"

"Natasha," You cut her off, resting a hand on her knee. "It's perfect."

Her shoulders relaxed, and she gave you a relieved smile. "Great. I'm glad."

You were soon ushered inside by an eager host, who led you to a spacious kitchen, equipped with every cooking appliance imaginable. You expected to see more guests inside of the space but instead only found an instructor.

"Welcome to Cooking Institute," The woman, who appeared to be in her mid-40s, greeted the two of you with a warm smile. "My name is Lisa. We're so excited to have you."

"Is this only for us?" You questioned Natasha.

"I rented it out for the night," She shrugged. "So, we could have some privacy."

You nodded, appreciating the gesture.

Lisa clapped her hands together. "Well, I'll let you two get settled and we can get started." She gave the pair of you a thumbs up and made her exit, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen.

"So," You glanced over at Natasha. "What's the plan here?"

"Well," She grinned. "We're going to cook some food."

"Gee, I never would have guessed," You teased. "But what kind of food?"

Natasha's eyes twinkled with amusement. She leaned against the counter, her excitement barely contained as she outlined the evening’s menu. "Alright, here’s the plan," she said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"We’re starting with a Classic Wedge Salad—simple, and something I can make with no problem." She paused, savoring the anticipation. "Next up, we’ve got Cheesy Potatoes Au Gratin." Natasha’s smile widened, clearly proud of the menu.

"And then," she continued, "we’re making Oscar-Style Beef Filet. It’s a bit fancy but worth it." She chuckled at the look of awe on your face, clearly pleased with herself. "So, ready to get cooking?"

You nodded, laughing. "This sounds amazing. Let's do it."

As the night progressed, the two of you quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm. It was easy, being around her, and the conversation flowed naturally. The host led you both to your designated cooking station, complete with all the utensils and ingredients needed for the evening’s menu. Natasha's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she glanced around, her enthusiasm contagious. You could see the genuine pleasure on her face, which made you smile even more.

"How do you like your steak?" You asked.

"Medium rare," She said.

You nodded. "Same. This looks so amazing. I can't wait to taste it."

"Me too," Natasha admitted, glancing over at you. "I love a good steak."

You smiled, shaking your head in amusement. "Of course you do."

"What?" She chuckled.

"Nothing," You said. "It's just... you're very cool, Natasha Romanoff."

She grinned, leaning closer to you. "Well, thank you. That's very sweet."

You bit your lip, feeling a blush creeping up your neck.

"See, blushing," Natasha said smugly.

You nudged her, trying to hide your grin. "Stop it."

She smiled, her eyes softening. "Never."

As the meal came together, you were surprised by how much fun you were having. It turned out your cooking ability was light years beyond Nataha's. Which wasn't that surprising. It's not like she had a child to cook for or anything.

"Nope. You've got it all wrong," You said, trying to keep a straight face.

"What?" Natasha looked at you, perplexed.

"The salt, Natasha," You chuckled. "You need a lot more salt."

"Are you sure?" Natasha looked down at her mashed potatoes.

"Yes, I'm sure," You replied, trying not to laugh. "You can't eat those."

"Aw," Natasha frowned.

"It's okay baby," You assured her, patting her shoulder. "I'm here to help."

Natasha grinned. "Okay, Chef."

You smiled, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. "You're cute."

"Thank you," Natasha said.

"Alright, enough messing around," You declared, picking up the wooden spoon. "Let's keep this going." As you both continued to cook, the kitchen became a lively space filled with laughter and playful banter. Natasha's attempts at seasoning and timing were endearing, though they often resulted in humorous mishaps. The contrast between her occasional culinary blunders and your surprisingly deft cooking skills became a running joke.

Often there were times you two forgot Lisa was even there, too wrapped up in each other to notice her. Finally, your meal was finished and you both sat in the dining area to enjoy it.

"Okay, I've got to admit, that was pretty amazing," Natasha said, sipping her wine.

You smiled, savoring the bite of tender beef. "It really was. Thanks for bringing me here."

"You're welcome," Natasha said. "I'm glad you liked it."

You looked up at her, your heart beating a little faster. She was looking at you with such fondness that it made your chest ache. "So, I figured we should get to know each other a little better."

"You mean we don't already know each other well?" She smirked, referring to your night together.

You blushed. "You know what I mean. I mean, the basic stuff. What's your favorite color? Your favorite movie? Things like that."

Natasha nodded, smiling softly. "Sure. My favorite color is blue."

"Like the ocean?" You asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "What about you?"

"Green," You answered. "Like the trees."

"Interesting," she murmured. "Movie?"

"I'm a big fan of romcoms," You confessed.

"Really?" Natasha asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah," You shrugged. "The Proposal. Anything with Sandra Bullock or Jennifer Lopez and I'm sold."

Natasha laughed. "Good to know."

"What about you?" You questioned.

"Well, I'm a sucker for anything with Ryan Gosling." She grinned.

"Good choice," You agreed.

"Favorite food?"

"Anything sweet," She winked.

"I can work with that," You chuckled.

"Favorite TV show?"

"That's a tough one," She paused, thinking. "House."

"Nice," You said.

"Favorite song?"

"Don't you already know?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Yes," You laughed. "But I want to hear you say it."

"Fine," She sighed dramatically. "The Scientist by Coldplay."

"You have a good taste," You mused.

"I think so," She said, winking at you.

"I like The Night We Met," You replied.

"Really?" Natasha asked.

"Yeah," You said. "It's a great song."

"It is," She agreed. "I just didn't think you had a real liking for that particular genre."

"I'm full of surprises," You wiggled your fingers.

Natasha took a sip of her wine. "Clearly."

"Okay, last one," You said. "Favorite band."

"The Beatles," She replied without hesitation.

"Nice," You said.

"They're classics," She shrugged. "Can't go wrong with them."

"That's true," You said. "I think I have a lot more to learn about you, Natasha Romanoff."

She smiled softly. "Same goes for you, Y/N, Y/L/N."

As the two of you finished dinner, the conversation shifted into a more relaxed tone.

"So," You said, leaning back in your seat. "What's next on the agenda?"

"That depends," Natasha replied. "Do you trust me?"

You grinned, your heart skipping a beat. "With my life."

"Well, then, let's get going."

As the night progressed, you found yourself growing more and more intrigued by Natasha. She was intelligent and witty and had a surprisingly dry sense of humor. Her eyes lit up when she spoke about the things she was passionate about, and it was clear she was truly a free spirit. You could see why she had risen to fame so quickly.

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

The next stop was Echo Park’s Swan Boat line, the sight of the bustling park filled with families and couples enjoying the evening brought a smile to your face. The iconic swan boats bobbed gently on the water, their white feathers illuminated by the soft glow of park lights.

"This is beautiful," You breathed, taking in the sight.

"It is," Natasha agreed, slipping her hand into yours.

"You ready to get out there?" She asked, grinning.

"I'm a little nervous but I'll get over it," You held her hand. You joined the queue, the line stretching a bit as people chatted and waited for their turn on the boats. As you neared the front of the line, you noticed a group of teenagers in front of you. One of them, a lanky teen with a mop of curly hair, kept glancing back at Natasha with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. After a few moments, his eyes widened, and he nudged his friend, whispering loudly, “Hey, isn’t that Natasha Romanoff?”

Natasha caught their gaze and offered a friendly if slightly reserved, smile. She knew being recognized was part of her life, but she also valued moments like these where she could enjoy a quiet, semi-anonymous outing. There was a moment when both of them argued about who would talk to her before they made a choice.

The teen, gathering his courage, turned around and said with a shy grin, “Hi, um, I don’t mean to bother you, but are you Natasha Romanoff?”

Natasha chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Guilty as charged. How are you doing tonight?”

The teen’s friends crowded closer, their excitement palpable. “We’re huge fans! This is so cool,” one of them exclaimed.

"Would you guys mind taking a picture with us?" Another asked, pulling out their phone.

Natasha's smile grew warmer. "Of course not. " She pulled you in close, wrapping an arm around your waist. You tried not to blush as the teens gathered around you, their phones held high.

"On the count of three, smile!" The first teen instructed. You obliged, smiling brightly as the phone flashed.

"Thank you so much," he gushed. "This is so awesome. My friends won't believe this."

Natasha grinned, giving them a wink.

"Are you guys on a date?" One of the teens, a girl with an oversized hoodie and glasses asked.

"Maybe," Natasha's eyes sparkled. "Or maybe it's just a casual hangout between friends."

You laughed, shaking your head. "I can tell you that I'm a fan of hers." You played along.

"Me too!" The girl squealed. "I'm your biggest fan, Ms. Romanoff."

"I'm flattered," Natasha chuckled. "Well, have a good night, everyone." She pulled you toward the front of the line as it was now your turn to ride.

"Thank you, Ms. Romanoff!" The girl called out. "This is the best night ever!"

"Any time," Natasha called back. You couldn't help but smile as the teens began animatedly talking amongst themselves.

"That was nice of you," You murmured.

Natasha's gaze softened. "They were sweet kids. Besides, I don't mind the occasional photo op. It's all part of the job. You ready?"

You looked at the small boat tethered to the dock, a mix of nervousness and excitement fluttering in your chest. "Is it safe?"

Natasha laughed softly. "It's perfectly safe. I promise."

With a deep breath, you nodded. "Alright, let’s do it."

You both climbed into the boat, Natasha taking the oars and maneuvering it gently away from the dock. As the boat drifted into the middle of the pond, the moonlight cast a soft glow over the water, creating a serene and almost magical atmosphere.

The gentle lapping of the water against the boat was soothing, and you glanced at Natasha, who was focused and confident as she rowed. After a few moments, she set the oars aside and leaned back, her gaze meeting yours.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

"Surprisingly well," you replied, your heart racing a little from the adventure. "This is actually kind of thrilling."

"I'm glad," Natasha grinned, reaching for your hand and squeezing it.

You gazed up at the night sky, admiring the twinkling stars and the bright moon. It was a beautiful night, and you were happy to be sharing it with her.

"I know this is a little cheesy," She started, her gaze turning soft. "But I've always loved the idea of a first date."

"I love a good first date," You chuckled. "I think you knocked it out of the park for sure." You said.

"I'm glad," She whispered. "I was hoping you'd like it."

You smiled, your chest tightening with emotion. You felt a connection with Natasha that you couldn't explain.

"So, my girlfriend..." You grinned, alluding to Natasha's introduction of herself to Sam.

"It has a nice ring to it," She laughed aloud. "I saw you fumbling and took the opportunity."

"Thank God for it," You shook your head. "I don't think I would have known what to say."

"You would have figured it out," She assured.

"Not fast enough," You replied. "I want you to be my girlfriend." You said with such confidence Natasha's head whipped over to you.

"Wait, really?" She asked. 

"Really," You nodded.

Natasha smiled, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

"I was hoping you would," She replied.

"Well, consider me your girlfriend," You declared, feeling your stomach do flips.

Natasha's gaze met yours, and she leaned in, kissing you tenderly. The kiss was soft and sweet, filled with the promise of something more.

"Thank you," She whispered, her breath warm against your skin.

"You're welcome," You murmured, your heart pounding.

You sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's presence.

"So," She finally spoke, her voice quiet. "Where do we go from here?"

"I guess we figure it out together," You replied, your gaze locked on hers.

"I can't wait," She said, her eyes shining.

--->

[snufflesw]

The Reader learns about Aqua's newest plan to destroy his father.

Aquamarine Hoshino x Reader (gender neutral) One Shot. Word Count { 1241 } Spoilers for Chapter 148!

You're So Crazy, Manipulate Me. Title is lyrics derived from the song "Ecstacy" by SUICIDAL-IDOL .

You traversed the sparse wooden area. The summer wind was warm against your bare arms and the smell of the sea filled your nostrils. The seawater clung to your hair after swimming. Now, however, completely dry to search for the person who’d suddenly disappeared from the beach.

    The boy sat near the edge of a cliff, watching the sun as it was beginning to set.

    ”There you are”, you said, loud enough for Aqua to hear, and walked up to him.

    He looked up at you and his blue eyes met yours for a second.

    ”What are you doing here?” he said as you sat down next to him. You wrapped your arms around your legs and hugged them close to your chest.

    ”I noticed you left and went to find you”, you said and wiggled your toes to take off the sandals irritating your feet.

    Aqua looked back to the sunset.

    ”Just needed some time to think, that's all”, he said.

    You could almost see the cogwheels turning in Aquamarine Hoshino’s head as the sun reflected in his eyes. His expression was similar to that day the two of you first met; lost in thought. Scheming.

    You sighed and rested your head on your knees, ”We’re close now. The movie’s almost finished and we’ll have him. He’ll be ruined, once and for all. You’ll have your revenge.”

    Aqua bit his lip, ”But what if that’s not enough? What if the movie’s not enough?”

    You raised an eyebrow at his statement. He’d been so certain before, almost to a horrifying degree, that the movie would be the thing to put Hikaru Kamiki in an early grave; his scheming and heinous acts would be revealed for the whole world to see. He’d have to disappear; go incognito.

    ”What do you mean?” you asked.

    ”Ruining his status wouldn’t be enough to keep him from committing another crime”, Aqua said through gritted teeth. ”We cannot have another Ai-incident happen. His punishment shall be permanent. I want him to be removed completely.”

    Aqua turned slowly towards you as he said the last sentence. His eyes were wide, stars apparent in both despite his fringe covering most of his left eye. It was the eyes of someone who’d had enough; someone who was willing to go to any length to make sure his revenge be executed wholeheartedly. He looked maniacal, insane, beyond repair… and you thought he’d never looked more handsome.

    You chuckled. Aqua’s gaze softened at the reaction.

    ”You’re quite bold by actually telling someone of your desire to kill, Aquamarine”, you couldn’t help but grin.

    Aqua scoffed, ”I believe you of all people should know. You’ve helped me thus far.”

    ”It was our agreement, was it not? You helped me flawlessly exact revenge on my former life’s pathetic excuse for a husband. In return, I vowed to make Aqua Hoshino’s father pay for what he’d done”, the grin curled on your lips. ”So… of course. If you’ve changed the plan to instead kill Hikaru Kamiki, then I’ll happily follow your lead.”

    Aqua stared at you sitting beside him. All he could do was stare at the grin on your lips. The same grin you had on your face once your own revenge had finally been executed. You looked calm, but the grin curling at your lips told another story. It always did.

    He let out a chuckle. Your face was the one to soften this time by the reaction. There was no sign whatsoever of the maniacal grin plastered on your lips a mere second ago.

    ”I’ve never seen that expression from you before”, you raised an eyebrow. ”Only when you’re acting.”

    The genuine smile didn’t leave Aqua’s lips once he stopped chuckling. The residue of laughter was apparent on those lips who had just told you about his plan to murder.

    ”How fortunate I’ve been to find a partner in crime who wouldn’t think twice when it comes to abandoning morals”, he said,

    You blinked.

    ”Akane plans to stop me”, Aqua continued and looked down at the ground. ”Despite everything he’s done.”

    You snorted, ”Her and what army? Last I checked, she’s the only one who even knows the basics of what’s truly going on. I’d like to see her try to stop us.”

    Aqua stared once again at you beside him. Awe, was how he’d explain it. You thought like none he’d ever met before. You were intelligent beyond adequate measures. To have someone going through the same thing; someone to once again be reborn into a younger; someone who wasn’t his sister; someone who wasn’t afraid to get their hands a little bloody. It was as if the Gods had answered his prayers.

    He placed his finger underneath your chin. You looked at him with a brow raised. He gently stroked your chin with his thumb, looking into your unfazed eyes. A small sparkle. He could feel your breath sharply against his lips. You’d mastered the way your eyes worked, but the rest of your body still reacted in the way of a teenager. Featherlight touches did the trick.

    You stared intently into his eyes, never once averting your gaze. He wondered what you saw every time those eyes looked into his. Perhaps you could see his wants, his needs, his desires. You’d seen almost all of them before. Almost.

    Aqua closed the gap between your lips. A jolt of electricity soaring through his body at the connection of your mouths. You tasted like saltwater, and smelled like it too. But underneath the salt lay something addicting. Another scent adorned by your lips on his.

    You didn’t push him away. Instead, you tilted your head to give him the ability to move more freely. His lips grazed over yours and you felt the stinge of what was Aqua Hoshino. His lips were chapped, but they reminded you of the taste of coffee. A bitter taste incredibly difficult to swallow; but one with the power to have someone energised for hours.

    Aqua cupped your cheeks with his hands. Your hair tangled in between his fingers, curled like the grip you were holding on his lips. 

    Breathing was secondary, especially when your cold hands touched the base of his neck. An electric shock. You felt it in your fingertips as you touched the bare skin of his neck. Slowly grazing over his adam’s apple. He shuddered. It wasn’t even cold outside.

    Slowly, but surely, your lungs were greeted by the blissful feeling of oxygen entering your suffocating bodies. Your lips parting from one another’s, panting heavily by the lack of air for who knows how long. Time seemed to have stood still; the sun slowly setting in the horizon.

    You felt Aqua’s heavy breaths on your lips. His forehead rested gently against yours. Your hair was still tangled between his delicate fingers. Intertwined.

    ”That was very out of character of you”, you said in between breaths, grinning ear to ear. ”Are you sure you’re not acting?”

    Aqua’s face was flushed. Yours wasn’t any better.

    ”I’m not an actor”, Aqua said and forced you to come closer with the help of his fingers curled in between the locks of your hair. ”You just make me feel… so many things.”

    You smiled.

    ”All because I said I was going to help you kill your father?”

    Aqua nodded against your forehead, ”Yes.”

    ”How romantic of you, Aquamarine Hoshino.”

It was psychopathic, really. You were both psychopaths.

https://snufflesw.fandom.com/wiki/Home

[hugmekenobi]

S3: The Bad Batch (4)

Chapter Four: A Different Approach

Gif by @azertyrobaz

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: A reunion may be on the cards sooner than you thought

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, gambling, again we have my interpretation of headspaces, limited use of y/n, fluff and mild angst, discussion of character death, protective reader and Hunter, reader and Crosshair kinda get into it

Word Count: 5.3K

Author's notes: Now we're getting into part of the series where each episode allows for a bit more creative license which I'm very excited about! It starts with the end of this one and I hope y'all like it! Also, with regards to tagging people, I'm only tagging the users who still officially register when I do it. Please, please let me know if you want tagged/for me to try your username again!!

Sparks flew from the control as Omega did her best to stabilise them, but it was proving to be a rather challenging task. “I could use some help up here! Our comms are down. I can’t contact Hunter!”

From down below in the shuttle, Crosshair was also doing his best to get things under control but the smoke, electrical malfunctions and the persistent screech of the alarm told him that was a very unlikely outcome. He analysed the screen dictating the state of the ship. “That’s not the priority. The ship sustained heavy damage.”

“I can see that.” Omega retorted.

Crosshair made his way back up to the co-pilot’s seat, with Batcher following close behind. “Get the stabilizers back online!”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Immediately after she said that a large spark of electricity crackled from the console and the ship was torn out of hyperspace and spiralled towards the planet ahead.

“We have to land.”

“A little hard to do when nothing’s working.” Omega snapped at him as she fiddled with the steering but to no avail.

The ship entered the atmosphere and started to plummet towards the ground.

Omega pulled hard on the lever to even out the ship as the ground grew ever closer. It was all she could do before it crashed landed and skidded along the surface.

When it finally came to a halt, Omega opened the glass roof to allow them all to get some air and eventually exit the wrecked vehicle. She looked in dismay as the controls fully shut off and the last dying spark flickered. “This will take forever to repair.”

Crosshair exhaled a sore sigh as he got his bearings, but that soreness was soon replaced by irritation as the hound pushed insistently on the back of his chair. “No. there’s no time for that.” The dog’s fussing got too much for him. He stood up to allow her to jump past him and off the shuttle.

“We need to get the nav reader online to extract the coordinates to Tantiss for when we go back.” Omega said, turning to look at him.

He couldn’t understand how she’d only just escaped that hell and was already talking about returning. “We’re not going back.”

“We left the other prisoners behind.”

“And the Empire is going to be searching for this ship and us.” He grabbed the pack with the blasters and hopped out of the shuttle. “We have to move. I scanned a spaceport a few clicks east. We’ll start there.”

Omega followed his example and let him lead the way to the spaceport.

--

With the establishment of the new plan being they would get to the spaceport and sneak onto a shuttle, they acquired their disguises and the two of them blended in with the civilians of the town.

They walked past the various troopers in the town as casually as they could so as not to arouse any unnecessary suspicion.

Omega warily analysed the situation ahead as they reached the spaceport. “It’s too well-guarded. We’ll never slip past all those troopers undetected.”

“I can take out at least half before they know what’s happening.” Crosshair stated confidently.

“Or… or we could try a way that doesn’t involve blaster fire.” Omega countered.

“Like what?” Crosshair asked, his voice filled with doubt.

“Watch and learn.” With that, Omega calmly led the way to the ticket attendant.

“Oh, I can hardly wait.” Crosshair said with a sigh as he followed a few paces behind.

“Hello. We’d like two tickets on the next shuttle please.” Omega requested pleasantly.

“Chain codes?” Came the standard reply from the attendant.

“About that. We lost our chain codes.” Omega said coyly.

“No chain codes, no passage.”

“Right. But you see, a problem for us could be an opportunity for you if, say, you knew of an alternate way of booking passage without a chain code.” She advanced towards the desk.

The attendant leaned forward. “Are you insinuating that I should take bribe?”

“If that’s what you want to call it.” Omega replied, feigning innocence.

“I do. And that could be arranged… for 15,000 credits.”

Omega’s composure slipped slightly upon hearing that price, “For two tickets?” She exclaimed.

“Per ticket. And it’s non-negotiable. You’re lucky I’m not charging extra for the creature.”

“Where do you expect is to get 30,000 credits?”

“Sounds like a you problem. Don’t come back without the credits.” The attendant waved a hand in dismissal.

Omega hung her head in defeat and left the port with Crosshair.

“Well, that went well.” Crosshair remarked sarcastically.

“Stow it.” Omega grumbled.

--

“Storming the spaceport would be easier than finding 30,000 credits.” Crosshair hissed as they aimlessly wandered the streets of the town.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Don’t be naïve. Every second we’re here, we’re at risk.”

They came to a stop outside a bar.

“The quite wasting time complaining.” Omega argued before two troopers exited the bar and they both averted their gaze, but the opening of the door had given Omega another idea. “I think I know how we can make some fast credits.”

“Of course you do.” Crosshair mumbled as he saw her getting ready to make her way into the bar. The fluttering of a scrappy piece of paper caught under a nearby crate grabbed his eye before he entered, and he came to a sudden stop as he picked it up and saw what- or rather who- was on it.

Omega noticed he had stopped and when she turned back to enquire what was wrong, the question died on her lips as she saw what he was looking at. Only half the information on the sheet was news to her, but the rest made her eyes widen in shock. By the looks of things, you had been on your own for the time she’d been on Tantiss and clearly, you’d stopped hiding. And judging by the harsh language and substantial reward offering, the Empire wasn’t too happy about that. Now, not only was there the trouble of how exactly this information would go down between you and Crosshair but she also couldn’t count on the fact that you were back with Hunter and Wrecker. She glanced up at Crosshair and, despite the fact that most of his face was covered, he could not conceal the emotions that flashed behind his eyes. “Oh… um… she- well back when- I’m sure she would’ve told-” She broke off with a sharp breath as she struggled to find the words to say.

“Doesn’t matter.” Crosshair said dismissively, crumpling it up and putting it away before he carried on into the bar. The fact that Omega seemed to already have an idea of what your… situation… gave him enough of a timeline to go off of.

“One thing at a time, right girl?” Omega said with a shaky breath, patting Batcher’s side as the hound nuzzled into her. Putting her mind onto the task at hand, she too entered the bar.

--

The bar itself was relatively busy, especially compared to how Cid’s had usually been, and it gave Omega the chance to study her potential adversaries from their booth by the wall unnoticed.

“That’s your plan? You want to hustle someone?” Crosshair repeated sceptically. What had they taught this kid?

“I’ve done it before, and I prefer to think of it as a temporary requisition of funds.”

“And bet with what? We don’t have anything.”

“They don’t know that.” Omega said with a cheeky grin.

“And if you lose?”

“Well… I guess we’ll be in more trouble.” With that, she made her way to the card table in the middle of the bar and sat across from the Trandoshan and got her performance ready to go.

--

To say that Crosshair was surprised would be an understatement, the kid was winning every hand against the Trandoshan and securing credits within a matter of minutes. Whatever experience she’d gained with the rest of his squad was clearly something to be admired. Although the mental image of Hunter even allowing her to hone such a skill felt very out of place, he was quietly grateful for it right now.

The bar came to a sudden hushed silence as the door opened. Omega heard Crosshair clear his throat in warning and she looked to the entrance to see an Imperial officer flanked by two troopers enter. She studied them carefully but remained at the table as she won the next hand much to the Trandoshan’s disappointment. “I think I’ll quite while I’m ahead.” She said in response to his pleas for another game. Having an Imperial official here complicated matters and it was time she, Crosshair and Batcher left.

“Leaving so soon?”

Omega turned her head to face the officer as he stood by the table.

“You’re in my seat.”

The Trandoshan let out a low snarl before he departed and gave up his seat to the man.

Crosshair tensed as he saw the Imperial sit but Omega waved him back.

“So, you think you’re good at this game?”

Omega replied with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.

“Want to try against a, uh, real opponent?” He suggested to the young girl. “I insist.”

--

“Your mutt don’t seem to like me.” He said as the dog released a series of growls.

“She’s harmless.” Omega said in reply as she organised her cards.

“She’s a distraction. Get rid of her.” He demanded.

Omega signalled to Crosshair to take her out.

Crosshair got to his feet, clicked his tongue, and led Batcher to wait outside.

The Imperial watched them go. “Never seen you or your dad around before.” He commented.

“We’re just passing through.” Omega replied as she watched him flip the next card and the rise in murmurs indicated that both he and the crowd seemed to think her time was up.

“Eh, I’ll admit you’re not bad. But you seem to have misunderstood your enemy.”

Omega only smirked, “Did I?” She placed her cards down and flashed the set of the three Eastern Stars. Game over. “I’ll take those 20,000 credits.” She grew nervous however when his two guards made to approach the table.

He held a hand up to stop them. “I concede. You beat me fair and square.” He gave her the credits. “Nicely played.” He left the table.

The Imperial went back to his men and one of them addressed him.

“Sir. Patrol found a crashed Imperial vessel on the outskirts of town.”

“I wasn’t notified about any shuttles arriving today.” He angled back to look at the two strangers with a newfound sense of suspicion. “Now, hang on a minute.”

Omega gathered the credits in her bag and, now that Crosshair had returned, she got up to leave with him, but the familiar voice of the Imperial stopped them both.

“We’re not done here.” He chuckled coolly. “You haven’t paid your fine.”

“What fine?” Omega asked.

“Gambling’s illegal in these parts.”

“What?” Crosshair snarled as he made to step forward, but Omega’s arm stopped him.

“The law is the law. Now, all you gotta do is pay the fine. And I’ll be on my way.”

“How much?” Omega asked him as she did her best to keep her disgust at bay.

“Ten thousand credits… unless you prefer to be arrested instead.”

Omega got the credits out and handed them over.

“Excellent. Consider your fine paid in full.” He said smugly. “Try and stay out of trouble.” He dipped his cap and left the establishment.

Omega sighed in relief. “Let’s get out of here.”

Crosshair caught her shoulder. “How many credits do we have left?”

Omega checked the bag. “Thirty-five thousand. Enough for two tickets and a little extra.” She made the first move to leave.

--

“Crosshair, where’s Batcher?” Omega asked anxiously as she scanned the area for her companion.

“Oy. You looking for that hound?”

The two of them turned to look at the young boy speaking to them.

“You know where she went?” Omega queried.

“Sure do, but the answer’s gonna cost you. Ten thousand credits.”

The fact that he was a child made no difference, Crosshair sighed and stood intimidatingly over the boy. “I’m getting tired of this.”

“Okay, okay.” The boy backtracked. “Five, but that’s my final offer.”

Omega touched Crosshair’s arm to call him off before she gave the boy the money.

The boy examined the credits before he supplied the information, “That Imperial officer and his troopers snatched the creature and headed for the cargo docks. Down that way.” He pointed. “Nice doing business with ya.” He ran away from them before they could change their mind about the money.

Omega started off in the direction of the docks.

“Omega.”

She angled back to face Crosshair. “You heard him. Batcher’s this way.”

“And the spaceport is that way. Forget the hound. We have to get off this planet.”

“We never would be escaped without Batcher. I’m not leaving her.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“I’m not abandoning her!” Omega angrily tossed the bag of credits at him. “Take the credits. If you wanna go, then go. I’ll find my own way.” She stormed off.

Crosshair watched her go but before he got ready to go his own way, he felt guilt coil in his gut. It was becoming very clear as to the impact she could have on someone and explained why his squad had cared so much for her since he too found himself following her rather than doing the more sensible thing of leaving from the spaceport.

--

“Fine. We’ll do this your way.” Crosshair agreed begrudgingly as he placed the bag down before Omega scaled the gate to the cargo docks herself. “But my skills are being wasted.” He offered his hands as a means to boost her over the top.

Omega gave him a warm smile, “Noted.” With his assistance she was able to climb over the gate with ease.

Crosshair made the quick climb after her and together, they snuck through the docks looking for where Batcher was being kept.

Omega then heard a series of whines and she saw Batcher’s cage. “There’s Batcher.” She signalled to Crosshair before she analysed the situation around her. “Shouldn’t we free the other animals too?”

“Don’t push it.” Crosshair replied.

--

They had managed to covertly make their way around to get better access to the centre console but before they could make a move, that dull voice spoke up.

“I thought you’d come searching for your mutt. Yeah, unfortunately for you, Lau has a very strict pet policy. No license means a hefty fine.”

“How much this time?” Omega asked, pretending to play along as the two of them were swiftly surrounded by troopers.

“How ‘bout you give me all my money back? Credits won’t do you any good when Hemlock shows up.” He saw the shared looked between them. “Oh, did you think I wouldn’t piece it together when I found that crashed shuttle? Nothing gets by me. I run this town.” He drew his own blaster. “So, hand over the credits and surrender.”

Omega sighed, “Alright.” She chucked the bag to the Imperial. “Let’s try things your way.” She murmured to Crosshair.

“Finally.” Crosshair waited until Omega ducked to cover before firing the first shot, but he noticed his hand was still no unsteady and his aim was more compromised than he liked.

Omega used the chaos of the firefight to get to the controls and release all the animals, the resulting stampede thinning out the Imperial forces and reuniting her with Batcher.

“I’ll handle this. Take Batcher, and power up the ship.” Crosshair ordered. He provided her cover fire as she got the ship ready and when he saw a break in the blaster fire, he made his move towards the step.

Once he was on board, Omega got the cargo ship in the air and into the safety of hyperspace.

--

You had remained on the ship to study Tech’s datapad and the various planets and their coordinates whilst the other two dealt with the lead on this particular planet, but its name escaped you- you’d been to so many in this sector already, the names of them were beginning to blur together.

You were doing what you could to try and determine the next, more efficient course of action whilst the others were out but the words and data on the screen were moulding into one pile of unintelligible information. You put the datapad down for a minute and rubbed your eyes as you huffed a tired breath from your lungs. You stretched your neck and adjusted your posture but before you picked the datapad back up, a faint chirping caught your ears.

You swivelled in your chair to see the communications light flashing and you knew you weren’t supposed to be hearing from Echo any time soon. So, when you patched the encrypted message through and untangled it to find coordinates to the moon just outside of Ryloth, you knew there was only one other person who could’ve sent it.

You jumped out of your chair and cleared the steps of the Marauder in one leap before you sprinted to find Hunter and Wrecker.

--

“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked urgently as he saw you come running towards them.

You shook your head as you glanced between them. Your breath was heavy from the running but also from excitement as you said, “It’s Omega.”

--

“Look, I hate to be the one to say it, but what if this message is a trap?” Wrecker broached carefully as the ship flew through hyperspace.

“Who else would know those codes?” You disputed.

“But if the Empire has her…”

“If it’s a trap, then we’ll get out of there but if it is her… we need to be there, Wrecker.” Hunter said as the ship disengaged from hyperspace, and he entered the landing cycle. There was no sign of another ship yet, but he opened the door anyway.

“There’s no one here.” Wrecker murmured, wringing his own hands anxiously.

“Then we wait.” You said calmly though your own heart was pounding.

--

“The Empire will be able to track this vessel. We need to ditch it.” Crosshair advised as he entered the cockpit after getting rid of the hat and face covering that he had donned back in Lau.

“We will. I’m heading to a remote location, and I sent a coded transmission for Hunter and Wrecker and (Y/N) to meet us there.” Omega responded. She only hoped you’d be with them too.

Now that this reunion was approaching ever closer, he found himself unprepared for what was to happen next. “Omega. It’s- it’s been months. You don’t know if they’re still ali-”

“They’ll be there.” Omega interrupted sharply.

The ship exited hyperspace and as she peered out the window, she saw the welcomed sight of the Marauder waiting there.

Omega dashed down the ship’s steps but paused as she saw no immediate sign of any of you.

--

A few hours had passed but there was still no sign of the ship and nerves were starting to get the better of you all.

Hunter had begun pacing the length of the cockpit, you had not stopped fidgeting with your vibroblade and alternated between that and examining the hilt of your lightsaber, and Wrecker was busying himself around the rest of the ship.

You saw the uneasy expression on Hunter’s face, and you pulled yourself together enough to be there for him. You caught his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. “Just wait, take a breath. She’ll be here, Hunter. I know it.”

“But-” He broke off as he heard the sound of a ship landing and a whole different type of nerves overtook him.

Wrecker made the first move to look outside and what he saw filled him with pure joy. “Now there’s a sight!”

Take your time. You caressed Hunter’s cheek with a comforting and utterly relieved smile before you ran outside to join Wrecker.

Hunter braced his hands on the back of the pilot’s chair. He needed a minute to gather himself. This was the moment he had been seeking out for months but part of him couldn’t quite believe it was happening.

--

“Wrecker!” Omega cried in relief as she ran towards him and let him pick her up.

“I wasn’t even sure your message was real!” Wrecker said with a happy laugh as he held her close.

“I knew you’d show up.” Omega closed her eyes and let the comfort of his strong hold overtake her.

“We wouldn’t have missed it.”

Omega opened her eyes to the sound of your voice, and she smiled brightly as she saw you standing just behind him.

You knelt down with your arms open as Wrecker lowered her.

Omega fell into your embrace and nuzzled into your shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if- I thought you might’ve been-” She pulled away with a teary sniff.

You tilted your head as you tenderly wiped away the tears that had slid down her cheek and stroked a hand through her hair, the longer length of it a painful reminder of how much time had truly passed. “I’m right here, nothing happened to me.” You didn’t need to worry her about past events right now- that rehashing undoubtedly would come up later- but this current moment was something to be celebrated and not clouded by anything else.

Omega went to clarify what she meant but Wrecker’s words stopped her.

“We crossed the galaxy four times looking for you.” Wrecker revealed, wiping his own tears away.

“Five.”

Omega glanced past you as she heard Hunter’s voice and the sight of him created a feeling of pure elation that she wasn’t sure she would never experience again.

“But you’re the one who found us.” Hunter said with a smile from the doorway of the Marauder.

Omega started to run towards him.

Hunter darted down the steps two at a time and came to his knees as he held his arms out to her.

Your heart swelled and the emotions of the moment got stuck in your throat. That sight had been one you had been waiting to see for quite some time. You sensed and visibly saw how relaxed and content he looked, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Wrecker put a friendly arm around your shoulder as you both go to your feet, and he saw your reaction to their reunion. He too felt himself getting caught up in it all. Finally, things were looking up.

“We missed you, kid. We never stopped searching.” Hunter said affectionately and as he tightened his hold on her and felt her reciprocate, for the first time since Ord Mantell, he felt truly at peace. He pulled away but kept his hands on her shoulders, “But how did you escape?”

Omega hesitated before saying, “I had help.”

Hunter looked past her to see… well to see his brother descend the stairs of the ship, but what hit him was far more complicated than the relief he had been experiencing a mere second before.

You all followed his eyes and whatever happiness and lightness that had been surrounding you all immediately vanished and was replaced by a palpable tension as you all faced the clone that walked down the steps.

Your hand automatically came to cover your lightsaber.

Omega gaze darted between you all and she saw the shift in body language as well as the serious and distrusting expressions on all of you. It appeared she may have miscalculated as to how this smoothly this particular reunion would go.

“We can do this now and remain by a ship the Empire will be currently tracking, or we can get out of here.” Crosshair said simply.

Hunter placed a guiding hand on Omega’s back and jutted his head to Crosshair as the rest of you boarded the ship.

Crosshair followed them, with Batcher now close on his heels and the Marauder entered hyperspace once more.

--

Omega stood in the middle of the hallway. None of you had so much as made a sound or really moved since the ship had begun the journey back to Pabu and it was getting rather unbearable. “So… I got a dog! Her name’s Batcher.” Omega said with an uneasy laugh into the dead silence of the ship, but it got no reaction. The four of you continued your standoff with Crosshair positioned down the hall of the ship closest to her room/gun turret and the rest of you closer to the cockpit. All of you had your arms crossed and you, Hunter and Wrecker looked particularly guarded. She took that resulting quiet as her cue to perhaps let you all have it out right now. She took a seat and called Batcher over to sit by her feet and waited.

It was Crosshair who broke the silence first, “Where’s Echo?”

“Working with Rex.” Hunter replied briskly.

Crosshair released a soft hum in acknowledgement before he asked the question that he’d been putting off since he’d deduced it from how Omega had talked to him all those months on Tantiss, “And Tech… he’s- he’s really gone?”

“Yeah. It-” Hunter released a sad sigh, “It was a mission gone wrong and he- he sacrificed himself for us so we could get away. He knew what he was doing but… yes, he’s gone.”

Crosshair’s jaw tightened. He knew exactly what mission Hunter was referring to. “So much for Plan 88.” He couldn’t help but say, the grief and tense situation getting the better of him.

“What?” You remarked with a glare.

“You were supposed to stay hidden.”

“We couldn’t do that.” Wrecker said grimly. “Not when it looked like you were in trouble.”

“We couldn’t leave you behind, Crosshair.” Hunter added quietly, some of the fight leaving him as he recalled the events of Eriadu.

“Why? You never had trouble doing that before.” Crosshair retorted harshly.

“Excuse me?” You growled.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t-” Hunter came to stand in front of you, but you stepped past him.

You couldn’t help it, the protectiveness that hit you was all you could act on. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to throw your choices back in his face. You were offered a different path, but you decided the Empire was where you wanted to be. And yet, despite all of that, the moment we found out you needed us, there was no real alternative. We never knew what had happened to you, but we didn’t need to. All we knew was that you were in trouble. We all knew the risks of ignoring that plan… Tech knew the risks. Don’t you dare-”

Crosshair wasn’t prepared to explain what happened to him yet, so he kept up with his provocation instead, “You want to talk about risks? What are you playing at staying around with them?”

Hunter and Wrecker both looked sharply towards Crosshair.

Your posture stiffened. “I don’t know what-”

“I may have been out of action but I’m not blind. If the lightsaber on your belt didn’t give it away, the wanted poster I just saw sure as hell did.” Crosshair spat as he flung it towards you.

You unfurled the paper, and your breathing became irregular saw this was one of the more detailed wanted ads that had been circulated. You crumpled it back up and then glanced to Omega who could only offer an apologetic grimace that she couldn’t warn you earlier, “That’s what I was trying to tell you.”

You looked back to the clone, “Crosshair, I-”

“You’re a Jedi and that wasn’t something you felt the need to share?”

“Every day.” You said tightly, “But I couldn’t chance something happening-”

“Well, something’s happened now, hasn’t it?” Crosshair bit back angrily. “Do you have any idea the danger you’ve put us in? Do you even care? You’d be doing us a favour by leaving.”

Even Omega joined Wrecker in shaking her head at him this time.

“Crosshair.” Hunter cautioned as he saw the guilt and shame that flashed across your face as your mask of composure slipped. “She’s not going anywhere. We’ve handled it so far.”

“You don’t know what the Empire is capable or what she is. I read what she’s done, and they won’t stop-”

“We’ve got it handled.” Wrecker repeated again as he noticed the way your shoulders started to heave.

Your jaw clenched. “You weren’t there. You don’t know-”

“I was there on Devaron.” Crosshair snapped. “I was there when you decided to join us. I was there when you decided to spend every day lying about what you are.”

“Crosshair.” Hunter warned again and there was no mistaking the protectiveness in his tone or his stance now.

Crosshair picked up on Hunter’s reaction, but he wasn’t to be dissuaded. “You want to judge my decisions, but you betrayed-”

“You don’t get to talk about betrayal, Crosshair.” Hunter interjected coldly as he came to stand by your side.

You only let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I made my choices in the beginning but when would you have liked me to tell you, Crosshair? On Kaller? But would that have been during or after your attempts to kill the Padawan? Or perhaps you would’ve preferred it on Kamino when Tarkin was there, and you were talking about how great the Empire was and how the Jedi were traitors and what happened to them was justified? Or would you have liked to have a sit down during one of the many occasions you were already actively trying to kill us? Tell me, when should I have entrusted you with this part of me?”

This time he didn’t have a response for you, he just shifted uneasily on his feet and glanced down at the floor.

You continued to speak but there was a distinct sadness to your voice now, “I wished I had been honest with all of you from the start. Truly I do. But after everything that’s happened, I’m glad you’ve only just found out because looking at you now, knowing what I do, I can’t be certain that if you had known what I was on Kaller, that you wouldn’t have tried to kill me too.”

Crosshair went to speak but found that he couldn’t immediately offer the reassurance that was needed.

“You’re our brother, Crosshair, and you’re welcome to stay on Pabu with us but don’t expect any of this to be easy.” Hunter said, placing his hand on your back in support.

“He helped me get out of Tantiss. He’s different now.” Omega remarked quietly.

Wrecker grunted and nodded towards his brother, but you and Hunter made no such moves, instead you both retreated further into the cockpit.

You sat in one of the passenger seats and stared at the paper again as you read the painful reminders of how you’d acted when you’d been separated from them. He’s right, you know.

“No, he’s not.” Hunter disagreed firmly as he knelt before you and untangled the wrinkled piece of paper from your hands. He paid it no attention as he threw it away. He came back and placed his hands on your shoulders as he crouched before you. “Are you alright?”

You breathed deeply and nodded. And you?

Hunter also nodded before he got to his feet and sat in the seat across from you.

--

“So, when did this happen?” Crosshair asked, gesturing to the two of you. The way you both were behaving wasn’t totally different to how things had been in the months before Kaller, but there was a definite shift that marked something more official. There had been a lot he’d missed out on.

“After Tipoca City.” Omega informed him as Batcher eagerly greeted them.

Wrecker enthusiastically petted the hound as he moved closer to Crosshair and Omega. “About time, right?” He added with a hint of humour in his voice, but the stern looks from the two of you had him clearing his throat awkwardly.

Crosshair simply hummed in reply and found himself wondering just quite how difficult things were about to be.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @dominoeffectsworld, @nightmonkeysstuff, @arctrooper69

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man 15

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Everyone prepares for take off. The final chapter.

8.5k words

(Master List 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14)

“So, do you want the good news or the bad news first?” 

Paige’s voice was professional over the phone, but that didn’t stop Eddie’s stomach from dropping at the question. It had been about a month since the audition, and even though Paige had said that she would get back to Eddie with an offer, the stretch of time had made everyone nervous. Corroded Coffin had been left hanging, wondering if this had been too good to be true. 

“Bad news first.” Eddie said, rubbing his forehead. 

“WR Records interfered, and they need more from you than the audition.” Paige sighed. “They remember you flaking out a few years ago and they want proof that you aren’t just going to turn tail and run.”

“I’m not!” Eddie protested. “I mean- we’re not! And I didn’t in the first place I just...”

“They don’t care why you didn’t come last time.” Paige continued. “You didn’t show up after I had stuck my neck out for you and that’s why we’re in this position to begin with.”

Eddie didn’t need the reminder. “So, what do they need? Do they want us to go to LA? It was hard enough getting everyone to go to Live Mike-”

“No, they don’t want you all in L.A. Not yet anyway.” Eddie could hear the exasperation in her voice, and he didn’t know if it was at him or the situation. 

“So what-?”

“They want to see your stage presence. More than in just the audition tape we used. They want you to put on a show. A real one.”

“I take it that means that the Hideout doesn’t count?” Eddie asked. 

“They want to see fans, Eddie.” she explained. “They want to see Corroded Coffin with the real target demographic. Not just a handful of drunks wincing at your latest cover of Paranoia.”

He knew she was right, even if it did suck. When it came to fans, you were the only real one that they had at the moment that would fit the description of what WR was asking for. How the hell were they supposed to suddenly find people to support them, let alone like them? 

“Shit.” 

“It’s not going to be easy, but it’s not impossible.” Paige said. “You just need to put on a good enough show that they’ll sign off on you with Left Turn.”

“Why does this feel like a punishment?”

“Because it is.”

“Shit.” 

“It’s not a lost cause.” She continued. “They didn’t exactly give us a time limit on this, especially since we’re still setting up shop in Indiana. Everything is ahead of schedule and we’ll have everything set up by late May or early June.”

“So we just have to prove ourselves by Summer and we’re in?” 

“Plenty of time for you to find some fans.” Page laughed. 

“Yeah, finding fans in a town that thinks I’m a satanic cult leader. My fate rests in the hands of people who’d rather run me out with pitchforks than touch a die with more than six sides.” Eddie began lightly smacking his forehead against the refrigerator. “Sounds easy.”

“You’ll figure it out. Besides, there is good news to incentivise you.” 

“Yeah?”

“When we get the green light from WR, Left Turn is willing to offer you a two record deal.”

Eddie froze with his forehead pressed against the cool exterior of the fridge for the moment. “Wait,” his head snapped up and he pulled the receiver away from his ear to stare at it, wanting to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Are you joking?”

“I don’t joke about business.” Her tone was serious. “We discussed it, and we really think Corroded Coffin is going to be the breakout band that gives Left Turn what it needs to no longer be the place where second rate bands play third rate songs for passive income for WR. We want you, Eddie. You all have something special.” 

Special. The only time he had been called that was when the jocks called him Special Ed after he showed up for his fifth year of high school. Shit, who was he kidding, they called him that even before then. 

“Two records?” Eddie repeated. Did they even have enough songs for that? Corroded Coffin had maybe five original songs, and at least two of them were incomplete.

“It'll be easier to go over the details with everyone in person. But the long and short of it is that if you can pull off a halfway decent show for the label, you’re in. And, okay, I know I said that they didn’t give us a time limit but we’d really prefer to start giving you all studio time next summer.” 

“Wow that’s...” An eternity away? Too soon to even conceive? The most exciting and terrifying thing to happen to Eddie Munson, outside of stealing weed from a reefer truck and being in a shootout when he was eighteen? 

“The best deal you can hope to get.” Paige finished his sentence for him. “Trust me, we are bending and breaking a lot of rules for you, Eddie. Most bands would kill for this kind of deal that we’re offering you.”

He believed it, because it seemed like every time Paige came to him with any kind of news about his band he felt like he stepped into an alternate universe.

“So do a show, get fans, and get signed.” It was a three step plan that would work in theory, and Eddie had created campaigns and encounters on flimsier ideas. Then again, right now he wondered if fighting a litch would be easier than getting people in this town to like him. 

“We’ll talk more about this later. I’m heading back to California tomorrow but I’ll be back in a few weeks for the holidays and we can talk business then. Give the boys the good news and start working on a plan for your show.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good night, Eddie.” 

“‘Night, Paige.”

Winter passed in a blur of slush and snow and dreary days, while you found your life suddenly filled with more warmth and light than you had ever expected. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, all came and went with Eddie. You got to know his uncle Wayne, and Eddie spent his weekends more often than not at your apartment, watching movies, listening to his tales from school, and discussing his band. 

In January, you found yourself sneaking into Hawkins high on occasion to join Hellfire. You didn’t want to risk coming every single week, but when Eddie needed a sub, or when he said that he would be running a one shot, you were there. He had spent a night at your place helping you create a character, and you had admittedly gone overboard and ended up coming to the sessions with a new character each time because you had so much fun making them. You weren’t always clear on the rules, but you had enthusiasm and that counted for more in Eddie’s book, even if he had killed two of your characters.

In February he surprised you for Valentine’s day by playing you a song that he swore up and down he only tolerated because you liked it. In a card he bought was a paper heart that he had folded himself and had doodled hearts and skulls on. 

“It’s not as good as what you make, but you always show interest in my stuff, so...” Eddie had just shrugged. 

That was the first time you said ‘I love you.’ to Eddie Munson. 

His brown eyes had gone wide, and he had stared at you in surprise at those words. He didn’t say it back, not then. You didn’t need him to. You knew how you felt about him, and by the look in his eyes, you had an idea that he wouldn’t be far behind. 

Eddie had kissed you in response, and you don’t think that the two of you stopped kissing until you had to force yourself to pull away to give him his gift; a mix tape of both of your favorite songs and a tape recorder so that he could keep better record of all of the music he was trying to make. 

It wasn’t the world, it wasn’t a stage, or a record deal, but it was from you. 

You found that dating Eddie was easier in March and April. Spring had come and there was a lot more that you could do together outside of your apartment. The two of you fell into Lover’s Lake a handful of times, courtesy of Rick lending Eddie his boat and the two of you having horrible coordination. One weekend, the two of you drove past the old theater, and found it to now be fully closed and under some sort of construction as a radio tower was put on top of the building. 

Fine, good riddance. 

You remained Corroded Coffin’s number one fan, and had dragged Steve and Robin to the Hideout to watch them whenever you could. You tried to get other people to go see them play, and put up fliers for the band on the days where Keith wasn’t around. On the odd occasion you had seen a new face at the Hideout, but no one had stuck around for more than one set. 

Eddie was getting discouraged by the time May came around, and it was breaking your heart. He was putting everything into this band, and even though the past few months they had worked so hard on new music, they weren’t able to find that spark that would get people talking about them. As much as he believed in this band, in their music, it wouldn’t matter if this town wouldn’t give him a fucking chance. 

You... were not doing much better. Actually, if you were being completely honest with yourself, outside of spending time with Eddie and his friends and the occasional movie night with Robin and Steve, you were feeling more lost than ever. 

What was it about finding yourself, that made you feel even more out of place? With Eddie you could breathe, so why did it feel like in every other aspect of your life you were treading water?

Because all of those stupid rom coms that you had watched also lied to you. Turns out that by getting a man, it didn’t magically fix anything wrong in your life. Not that it had ever been his job to fix you, nor was that your intention but still. 

With Rocky Horror long gone, you had tried to focus your efforts on Corroded Coffin instead. It wasn’t the same. The harder you saw your boyfriend working towards his passions, the more you realized that you had no idea what the fuck you were doing with your life.

Being the assistant manager, who did more work than the actual manager sucked. You were pulling in so many hours with little to no reward. You nearly hit a breaking point when Keith tried to change your schedule so that you had to work on Tuesdays, and even though your day had remained intact, you still felt like you had lost somehow. 

Time spent with Eddie was the only time you didn’t feel stuck at work. Even when you were hanging out with Steve and Robin, all they seemed to be able to talk about was work or Steve’s dating life, or whatever movie was on. 

Everything came to a head one afternoon in May. It was Saturday, the busiest day of the week and you were staring at the door to your apartment with dread. Outside was the perfect day, finally warm enough to wear whatever you want without it being too hot or too cold. 

And yet, you felt clammy all over, you felt frozen in place staring at the door. You could already hear customers complaining about movies, Keith blowing off any responsibility, and-

“I’m sick.” you said bluntly into the receiver.”I’m not coming in.” 

You didn’t give Keith a chance to respond before hanging up and unplugging the phone. 

The drive to Gareth’s neighborhood was a blur and you pulled up behind Eddie’s van. You sat there for a moment before forcing yourself out of the car and walked over to the garage. 

The few times you were able to swing by during practice, it was usually a cacophony of music that echoed down the street, but not this time. You heard Eddie’s voice before you saw him with the band, they were all standing around and Eddie had his arms crossed. 

Zack was the first to notice you and gave you a wave, and you waved back. Eddie turned around and you saw the way his face relaxed as you approached. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and kissed your forehead. 

“Thought you had work today.” Eddie said. 

“I...” you shook your head. “I don’t even want to talk about work right now. What’s going on over here?”

“Oh, we’re fucked.” Gareth shrugged, spinning his sticks. 

“We aren’t fucked.” Eddie snapped. 

“I don’t know man, we seem kind of fucked.” Jeff sighed. 

“Fucked like a cheap whore.” Zack added. 

“Stop!” Eddie snapped, his eyes narrowing at his band. He removed his arm from around you and crossed his arms. “We aren’t fucked until I say we’re fucked.” 

“...Fucked.” you said, and everyone looked at you. “....I felt left out.” 

Eddie sighed from deep in his soul. “We have no venue, and no steady following except for you.” 

Ah, this again. You had been hearing about this problem for the better part of four months now. You honestly didn’t know what WR Records expected from a bunch of high schoolers with no money and no idea how to put on a show. You’d been here for this conversation so many times that you could practically recite everyone’s responses. 

“Let’s just... everyone take five. I need a smoke.” Eddie said. 

“Take it to the street, mom is gonna kill me if she finds another one of your butts on the lawn.” Gareth said. 

“Right, right.” Eddie grabbed your hand and led you to the side of his van as he pulled out his cigarettes. 

“Still no idea about a show?” you asked, leaning against his van. 

“Not a clue.” Eddie took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled. “But it’s nothing you haven’t heard a thousand times over at this point.” 

“I’m surprised that you haven’t used the frustration to write any new songs.” 

“It’s hard to fight demons when they won’t even give you a battlefield.” He gave a subtle laugh. “At this point I’d rather be fighting a real demon.” Despite his smile, you saw the stress in his eyes, and that worried you. 

“How would you even do that?” you asked. “Baseball bat with nails? Molotov cocktail? The power of friendship?” 

“Obviously through the power of metal. I’d play a guitar solo so sick that a demon’s head would explode.” 

“Effective.” You nodded. 

“So... why aren’t you at work?” Eddie asked, flicking his cigarette. You watched as the ashes fell to the ground and disappeared on the tar of the street. “It’s not like you to play hooky. Am I really that bad of an influence on you?”

“It’s not important-”

“Please.” Eddie turned to you and looked into your eyes. Sometimes you hated how intense his eyes could be, it was like he could see straight through you. “I’m so sick of hearing about my own shit. What’s going on, Sweetheart?”

Your gaze tilted up to the sky, it was a perfect shade of blue that you’d only see in photo books or inspirational posters in a library. “I... am so sick of feeling stuck.” you started, and from there a dam burst. “I’m sick of being at work, I’m sick of Family Video. I’m so tired of just waking up and going to work and coming home, just to turn around and go back to work. Keith is making my job so fucking difficult, I don’t even get to be on shift with Steve and Robin for more than maybe two or three hours a week, and if I have to hear one more person complain about movie ratings I might actually throw up.” Eddie reached out and rubbed your back. “I just... everyone else has something they can do. Steve does sports, you’re about to record an album, Robin knows like, 5 languages, and I’m...”

You didn’t want to finish that sentence. You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. 

“I want to quit.” you admitted. “I wish I could just quit and throw caution to the wind and give some sort of big dramatic speech about sticking it to the man and running off into the sunset. But I can’t.” 

“That’s bullshit.” Eddie said, finishing off his cigarette and crushing it under his worn sneaker. There was a small hole in the side of the shoe, threatening to expose his sock which probably also had a hole in it. “You’re smart, you should be able to get any job in town.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, and I know you’re right and that sucks.” You leaned your head on his shoulder. “I want to leave, but I feel stuck, and I feel stuck because I won’t leave. It’s a vicious cycle.” 

“Says the girl who kept showing up to my shows after I blew her off at the arcade.” Eddie nudged you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders again. “You had no problem going after what you wanted back then.”

“I knew what I wanted back then.” you looked up at him. “You were an easy choice, Eddie. Right now, I just know what I don’t want.”

There was a look in his eyes that was hard to read. Eddie was always a bit of an enigma, even after almost six months of dating. He was so expressive, and it was usually so easy to tell how he was feeling at a glance but there were moments like this, where he’d look at you with that distant expression and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was really thinking. 

“And what don’t you want...?” Eddie asked. 

“I don’t want to feel stuck, and I don’t want to hear people complain about movies ever again.” you said firmly. 

HIs expression continued to be unreadable and he looked down at the smashed cigarette butt by his feet. “You know... if this doesn’t- I mean if we can’t get our shit together to do this deal then we might be stuck.” 

“Eddie-”

“I’m just saying that I get it if you signed up to be with some big time musician. If this falls through, I don’t want you to be stuck with more than just your job.”

“Eddie.” You said again, sharply. “I liked you that first night at the arcade when you blew me off, I liked you the night I first saw you play, and I like you now because you’re you, Eddie. Of all the things I’m stuck with, you are the thing I choose to be stuck with. Everything else in my life might range from mediocre to shitty, but you are the one thing I’m sure about right now.”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked. 

You grinned wickedly at him. “I’m not stuck with you, you’re stuck with me.” Your arms wrapped around his waist tightly. “Sorry, no refunds. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“You are a brave woman.” He said. 

“Not brave enough, apparently.” You leaned against his chest and sighed. “Bleh.”

“Are you two done making out yet?” Jeff’s voice carried over, and you remembered that you had technically crashed their rehearsal. “We want to at least play something before Gareth’s mom runs us off.” 

“Eddie’s putting his pants back on!” you called back, resulting in a mix of laughter and groans. “Looks like the show must go on.” 

The two of you made your way back to the driveway, and Eddie went for his guitar. You took a seat on the driveway, feeling the warm, rough concrete against your palms. 

You watched them take off and fly, the same way you had seen over and over again. Despite their frustration with the lack of venue, they lost themselves in the music, using it as a way to battle the demons in their own heads. 

You wished you could feel that way too. To be able to feel that power inside of yourself and just let go and lose yourself in the moment. Your eyes closed and you leaned back, tilting your head towards the sky. In your mind, you visualized your own world with their music, one where fighting demons was easy, and that any problem could be solved with some sort of sick solo. 

Your mind drifted, as you imagined demons taking over Family Video, and you and Eddie fighting them off while the store was being destroyed. That was a nice thought. There wouldn’t be a lot of room in the store though, it’d be better to take the high ground, maybe fight on top of the strip mall? Once the plaza was thoroughly destroyed in your mind, you moved the battle elsewhere; the old movie theater. 

No, you still cared for the old theater. But you did still have it out for one Chris Morrison. You could imagine him with his horrid toe colored hair as some sort of ugly demon and kicking him in the nuts again, only this time in your mind it came with a satisfying pop sound. He’d never be able to harass any women ever again. 

You let Corroded Coffin’s music be the catharsis needed after a long and stressful winter. As they played you imagined beating the shit out of every grievance you’ve ever had, and some that weren’t even yours. Eddie’s voice carried such weight as he sang about a demon who had demanded that he drop his weapons and tried to banish him-  

The idea struck you like lightning, and charged every single nerve ending in your body. You felt the hair on your neck stand up and your body prickle with goosebumps as your eyes snapped open. 

Oh, shit. This was going to be a bad idea. A brilliant idea, but probably a bad one. One that might get you all in trouble.

But it was so stupid, it might actually work. 

Eddie’s eyes met yours and he must have seen something in the way you were staring so intensely at him. He motioned for the band to stop after the song they were playing. 

“You’re glaring a hole in my head, sweetheart.” He said. “Was it that bad?”

You shook your head. “I have an idea for your show. It’s stupid, and could get all of us in trouble and might be illegal. I can’t say for sure.” 

Eddie stared at you, looking slightly worried. “Care to share with the class what you’re thinking?” 

“Can’t be worse than some of the schemes we’ve come up with.” Jeff said. 

Eddie helped you stand up, and you told them exactly what you were thinking, and how it would be stupid and reckless but that you had an idea about getting an audience, and a large one at that. 

They were all quiet as they listened and thought about what you were saying. “That’s... jesus, you’d really help us do that?”

“Do you think you can pull it off?” you asked. “Don’t worry about me. What do you all think?” 

The boys looked at each other, and you could feel the air crackling with excitement. 

“You’re right, it’s a stupid plan.” Jeff said. “But...”

“Mom would actually murder me.” Gareth said, but despite his words, there was a wicked grin on his face. 

“We’re so fucked.” Zack muttered under his breath. 

You looked at Eddie. Eddie looked at you. “Well?” 

Eddie’s frown slowly moved up into a grin. “That’s pretty risky. You sure you want to do this?”

“It’s easy to go for something when you know what you want.” You grinned back. 

The rest of the day was spent hammering out all of the details of this plan. For the first time since your audition for Rocky Horror so many months ago you felt excited, like you were really a part of something. You felt... real. 

Eddie’s excitement over this plan didn’t wane for the rest of the day. He followed you back to your apartment after rehearsal, and decided that actions spoke louder than words to show his gratitude towards you. 

The sun was just starting to set and Eddie was sleeping on your chest now. Your fingers were running through his hair as he clung to your naked form, while you stared at the ceiling. In a bit you’d probably wake him up for dinner, but for now your mind raced and went over the plan over and over again. The rational part of you was screaming that this would be a bad idea, but when you glanced down at Eddie, and remembered how he looked when he was with his band, all doubts went away. 

If you could do one thing right, it would be this. 

You arrived at the Munson trailer far earlier than you’d like to help Eddie get ready for graduation. Eddie had spent the morning with you sitting on his bed and him taking off and putting on every single shirt he owned. Normally you wouldn’t mind seeing him constantly removing his shirt, but this wasn’t the time. Eventually you had to step in and hand him his Hellfire Club shirt. 

“This is your legacy, Eddie.” you said. “This is what you’re wearing today.”

Eddie’s curls were being especially unruly after he’d showered last night and slept in wet hair. You pulled his hair back into a low ponytail to try and get his graduation cap to stay on, but he hated how it looked. He shook his hair free and you opted to use some bobby pins you had laying in the bottom of your bag instead to keep it on. 

Eddie needed to be at the school early, and you rode along with him with the promise you’d save Wayne’s seat. Your boyfriend was practically bouncing in his seat as he drove to the school and parked. The two of you went over the plan one more time, and you both adjusted the walkie-talkies that the two of you had borrowed from the freshmen. 

You walked with Eddie to the auditorium where graduates were being told to meet up. 

“You got this, Eddie.” you said, squeezing his hands. “No matter what happens today, I’m proud of you, okay?”

He leaned in and gave you a kiss, the tassel from his cap hitting your face as your lips met. “I don’t think I could have pulled this off without you.”

“I know you could have.” you said. 

“Maybe, but it’s a hell of a lot better with you helping out.” Eddie hugged you and kissed your forehead. “I’ll see you on the other side, mk? In two hours, you can officially say that you are no longer dating a high schooler.”

“Oh good, because I was getting worried that at some point I was going to be put on a list.” you snorted. “Knock ‘em dead, Eddie.” 

“Trust me, that’s the plan.” He said before disappearing into the auditorium. 

With that, you made your way to the football field where the actual ceremony was being held while the graduates did one last practice run in the school. You made your way to the bleachers and made your way to the very top, near the announcers booth and set your bag down next to you. 

People filed in steady for the next while. In the front row of the bleachers, you saw Steve and waved to him. The freshmen were all gathered in a group a few rows over, and the rest of Corroded Coffin wasn’t too far from them. You kept scanning the crowd diligently before spotting a girl with short dark hair chatting with a few members of the baseball team. Perfect. 

Wayne showed up about a half hour later, as the stands were starting to fill up with people. He stopped to speak to a woman you had seen around the trailer park the few times you had visited, as well as the tall woman next to her. You moved your bag as he took a seat next to you, and he looked over the field. 

“You know, I never did make it to any football games in my day.” he said. “Too noisy.”

“I went to a few, but mostly stayed because of my friends and the snacks.” you replied. In the months that you had been dating Eddie, you had gotten to know his uncle fairly well. He was a quiet man, a bit stoic, but surprisingly easy to get along with. You had a soft spot for his dry sense of humor as well. 

“Didn’t think I’d ever come to one of these.” Wayne continued. “I always had hope though.”

You had a feeling that he wasn’t talking about football anymore. 

“He worked hard.” you said. “He really wanted it this year.” 

“Well, he finally had some motivation to finish this year.” Wayne pulled a cigarette from his pocket. 

“Yeah, the promise of a record deal will do that.” Behind you, people were going into the speaker booth and started playing some filler music before the ceremony started. You took a second to look up, confirming that things were in place. 

“I ain’t talking about that.” He shook his head and looked over at you. “My boy isn’t exactly the best at expressing himself, but it was more than just his band that gave him that final push.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and you shook your head. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did more’n you think.” he continued. “He used to only talk about his band and his games. He never did talk much about the future, always avoided it. Eddie talks about it now, and he can’t say more than two sentences without including you in it.”

Eddie thought about a future with you? He talked about you in the future tense with his uncle? The idea made you feel flustered more than you cared to admit. 

“I’m glad he’s with you.” Wayne concluded. “You’re a good influence on him.”

The music to cue the ceremony started, which was a blessing as you had no idea how to respond to that. Did Eddie really see a future with you...?

Everyone in the bleachers started cheering as the graduates in a sea of Tiger’s green made their way to the field and took their seats in the folding chairs. The next thirty minutes were filled with boring speeches by the faculty as they all stroked their own egos about how amazing the school was and how good of a job they did at teaching the students. 

As you watched, you saw someone in the seats move from one row to the row in front. A few minutes later, they did it again, moving down the row this time. 

“What the hell is that boy doing?” Wayne said, realizing before you that it was, in fact, Eddie, who was seat hopping from the back row. 

It was the strangest game of Frogger that you had ever witnessed as your boyfriend moved from seat to seat for the next ten minutes before finally settling in the third row and not moving from then on. 

“What do you think that was about?” you asked, but Wayne just shrugged. 

After what felt like an eternity, it was finally time for the graduates to walk the stage. You politely cheered for most of them, but you were here for one person only. 

Okay, fine, two people. You hadn’t forgotten that Robin was also graduating. But you knew it your heart that right now you were here for- 

“Eddie Munson.” Anyone with ears could hear the waiver of disdain in Higgin’s voice as he called out the name. You had never heard his name said with such contempt.

The cheers for Eddie were noticeably quieter than any graduate from the general crowd. You decided that it wasn’t a bad thing as you and the rest of Hellfire cheered and screamed loudly for him. You were shameless, hollering and clapping as Eddie strode across the stage as if he owned the place and stopped in front of the principal. 

True to his word, Eddie snatched the rolled up piece of paper out of the older man’s hand and everyone in the bleachers gasped and laughed as Eddie flipped him off. He then turned to the audience and, in true Eddie fashion, threw up his fingers like devil horns and hissed before cackling like a mad man and running off the stage. 

You stood up and asked Wayne to watch your things as you quickly made your way down the bleachers, meeting him behind them. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. 

“Congratulations, Eddie.” you said as he hugged you tightly, 

“If you hadn’t helped me study, I might not have made it.” he admitted. 

“You could have.” you said. “Also, what the fuck were you doing down there?”

“Jocks cut me off in line, and I had to find a way to get to my assigned seat.” Eddie took off his cap and gown and you took the items and folded them up carefully. “Now, are you ready for the most metal concert that Hawkin’s High school has ever seen?” 

“Everything is all set up and ready to go.” you said. “Wait for the signal. I’ve already gotten the all clear that it would just take a flip of the switch and everything will swap over” 

Eddie’s smile lit up his face, excitement radiating off of him now. “Let’s do this.” he handed you his diploma and you expected him to run off to get in position for the plan, but instead he stayed still for a moment just staring at you. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. “Don’t tell me you’re getting stage fright now.”

His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you into a deep kiss. You barely understood what he was doing, but you kissed him back on reflex. You reached up and grabbed his shirt, holding onto him. You had never thought you were the type to make out with someone under the bleachers, but it seemed there was a first time for everything.

“I love you.” he said quickly. “I’ll see you after the show.”

That was when he turned tail and ran off, leaving you dazed and stunned at his drive-by confession. 

I love you. 

Those three words echoed in your head as you were left speechless and frozen in place. 

Oh.. that prick. He thinks that he can just drop that on you and then run away?!

He can and that’s the worst part. You would have to kick his ass and kiss him senseless later. For now, there was still a job to do. 

Eddie’s kiss haunted your lips as you made your way back up the bleachers and set his items down next to Wayne. 

“What is this?” he asked, frowning at you. 

“So, I don’t have any time to explain.” you said. “And you are about to take back everything you said about me being a good influence.” 

Wayne’s frown only deepened, but Higgins was now shaking hands with the last student on stage. You turned and made your way to the announcement booth where Dustin was waiting for you by the door.

“Ready to do something stupid and reckless that’ll get us into every sort of trouble ever?” you asked. 

“Is that a hypothetical question?” he smiled at you and the two of you made your way into the booth. 

Being friends with Steve meant that you were friends with Dustin, Mike, and Lucas. By knowing the kids, you were vaguely aware of their siblings. 

You had never officially met Johnathan Byers or Nancy Wheeler. If anything, Nancy was more of a mythical being, the ex of your best friend. You knew that she and Steve had famously dated, broke up, dated again, broke up for good, and now she was dating the man next to her holding a camera. The whole thing seemed messy, but this wasn’t the time for that. 

“You might want to get down to the field if you want to get any good pictures of this.” Dustin said to Johnathan. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” you asked. This had not been part of the plan that you recalled. You had asked Dustin for help as he had been involved with the AV club, which meant that he knew how to work the booth but Nancy and Johnathan hadn’t been anywhere close to this plot. 

“Dustin told us what was going on.” Nancy said, holding a pen and paper. “And we were promised an exclusive if we help.”

“You-” you shook your head. “You want to do a story on this?” 

“A graduation being taken over by a small town underdog band that could get signed?” Nancy asked. “Eddie is about to do something so stupid that it could get him run out of town. I’m going to make sure that this gets spun the right way.”

“You said you needed a show and an audience.” Dustin shrugged, making his way over to the booth. “Corroded Coffin needs press. I called in a favor. Now get over here, we’re running out of time.”

Shit, the kid was right. Higgins was in the middle of his closing speech and you didn’t have much time left. You could already see some parents gathering their things to beat traffic. 

Now or never. 

Dustin flicked a switch and suddenly Higgin’s microphone cut off. He kept talking for a moment before realizing that his voice was no longer echoing across the field. He tapped the microphone a few times before looking up towards the announcement booth. 

You pulled out the walkie talkie. “Paper Crane to Corroded Coffin, are you ready? Over.” 

There was a beat before static crackled through the device. “Corroded Coffin to Paper Crane. We’re ready.”

“On my signal.” you said, and set the walkie talkie down. 

Dustin flipped a switch and music started blasting again, this time instead of the cheesy family safe hits that had been playing before, the screeching guitar of Metallica echoed across the grounds. You had no doubt that this was going to be heard for miles. 

With this distraction, Corroded Coffin stormed the stage with their instruments, setting up in record time just like they had practiced. Higgins was too stunned to speak for a moment, before seeming to sputter and yell at the boys. 

That’s what you were assuming anyway, as you could only see him and in no way hear him. 

Eddie didn’t seem bothered at all as he swung his guitar around so hard that you were sure it would have caused some serious damage had it actually hit the man. 

Dustin hit your arm to get your attention. “Introduce them.” he said, pushing the booth microphone towards you. 

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked. 

“Introduce them! This is a concert, you have to tell everyone who they are!” He said again. “You said you’d give the signal so give it!”

“What are you talking about, that’s their job! I’m just here to push the buttons and-” 

“Just do it!” Dustin pushed the button to turn on the mic and shoved it in your face.

For a moment, you were suddenly back on stage at the middle school talent show, with the hot lights beating down on you. You were back in the theater with Chris Morrison before you even had a chance to audition. You were in the back row (fuck the back row) dancing and yelling at a screen with dozens of people as you watched a movie you had seen a dozen times before. 

Something inside of you snapped and you grabbed the mic. 

“And here they are to close out todays’ ceremony, let’s all put our hands together for Hawkins High School’s favorite Hellions- Corroded Coffin!” 

The reception to your introduction ranged from luke-warm to confused. You saw a few people clapping, but most people had no idea what was going on. 

If the reception put off the band, they didn’t let it show for a moment. They took off like a rocket, flying high with a bust of energy as they launched into their first song. Higgins stood there, gobsmacked as they played, his face a bright shade of red that you could see even from here. He attempted to yell, but it was no good. 

Then, the oddest thing started to happen. 

It started with the graduates, as they all stood up and started to cheer. You tore your eyes away from your boyfriend long enough to see people clapping. You weren’t sure if they thought that Corroded Coffin was actually good, or if they all just thought it was part of the ceremony but it was happening. 

Higgins turned to the crowd, still fuming with anger, but froze as people started to warm up to the band on the make-shift stage. Slowly, the excitement moved backwards from the Graduates on the field to the bleachers. 

Sure, there were some parents who were quickly grabbing their kids and ushering them out of the area as quickly as possible, lest the Devil take their soul for daring to be in the same vicinity of someone playing an electric guitar. But be it by genuine curiosity, novelty, or seeing Corroded Coffin as you saw them, people were staying. 

With the court of public opinion swaying in their favor, Higgins had no choice but to storm off the stage in a huff. That’s what you liked to believe at least. 

Corroded Coffin flew through two songs without stopping, so deeply in the zone they seemed to forget where they were and who they were playing for. 

As the guitar shrieks came to a close, Eddie signaled for his band to stop. 

He looked out at the crowd of people, who were (for the most part) cheering for him. His eyes went wide, and you wondered if anyone at school ever gave him any sort of positive attention like this outside of his friends. 

Stunned for just a moment, he grabbed the mic and leaned forward. “Thanks everyone, we have one more song before we close out this whole thing.” he said. “For the past, oh, six years, I’ve been fighting my way out of the bullshit that is Hawkin’s High school. It took me longer than expected but now I’m proud to announce that your resident Freak is now going to be set loose on the town during regular school hours.” Eddie grinned wickedly, and you saw a few parents and students shift uncomfortably. “Get ready Hawkin’s because this year Corroded Coffin has officially been signed!”

Cheers and confusion rang through the stadium. You couldn’t stop smiling and you felt your eyes start to water. You were just so damn proud of Eddie in that moment. 

Eddie’s gaze moved to the announcer booth, and you could feel that he was looking at you. He extended a finger towards you and called out your name. 

“This one’s for you.” 

You felt your heart jump in your chest and your face heat up a million degrees. Eddie’s guitar started on a riff that you had heard so many damn times it was nearly seared into your brain. 

But, you hadn’t heard them play this song before. The idea had always been three songs, but this song was not part of the line up. When had they learned this one? When had they practiced this one? 

You held your hand over your mouth as Eddie started to sing. 

“It’s astounding. Time is fleeting... Madness takes its toll...”

There was still a part of you that stung thinking about those days at the theater, but seeing Corroded Coffin on stage, playing something that he knew had meant so much to you... 

Rocky Horror. Eddie was singing Time Warp from Rocky Horror.

That absolute jerk. How dare he tell you that he loves you and then runs off before you could respond, and then plays this?! 

This just confirmed what you had known for months now. You were in love with Eddie Munson.

When Officer Hopper came up to the booth, looking at you, Dustin, and Nancy, he seemed more annoyed than angry. You quickly surrendered the controls to him, letting him pull the plug on Corroded Coffin. You loved Eddie, but you also wanted to minimize whatever trouble everyone was about to get in. 

You were escorted off the campus by Hopper who said that Higgins wouldn’t press charges as long as you and Eddie swore to never step foot on the school grounds again. Easy enough, with Eddie’s diploma safe in hand now. 

Wayne had laid into Eddie for being an idiot, but it was clear his heart wasn’t really in it. How could it be with Eddie smiling like a maniac the whole time, still high off the thrill of his takeover of the school that had shunned him for so long?  

There were pictures taken. In true Eddie fashion he held his diploma proudly as he flipped off the camera. A copy of that photo would sit on your bedside table for many years after that. 

Paige dropped by the Munson trailer that night, cackling maniacally at how insane Eddie had been for using his own graduation for the concert. Eddie, of course, had given you all the credit for the idea. 

Corroded Coffin did not get the front page, despite Nancy Wheeler’s best efforts. They did get the starring headline for the entertainment section though. Your name was even mentioned in the article, as Nancy couldn’t leave out Eddie’s dedicated song to you. 

That article was also framed and hung up in your small living room, and after reading it at least once a day, it wasn’t long until you had it memorized. 

You couldn’t pinpoint the day that Eddie officially moved in that summer. At one point he came over for a movie night and just... never left. It became so easy to just have him stay the night, wake up next to you, fight over stupid things like how late he stayed up to play guitar or what to make for dinner. 

And, of course, as Corroded Coffin’s appointed emotional support fan, you were there the day that they stepped into the recording studio, this time as an officially signed band. 

When Paige had said that they had been setting up a new studio near Hawkins, the last place you expected for that to be was the old theater. You had froze outside of the building, the marquis had been torn down, and the radio tower now loomed over you instead. You had avoided being anywhere near this area since that day in November, and now here you were with your boyfriend as he got to live out his dream in the theater where you had one day hoped to live out yours. 

Jealousy wasn’t the word you were sure you were feeling. There was something there, maybe more akin to disappointment or irony at the situation. Whatever it was, you shoved it down. The past was the past, and were the odds that Chris would be there...?

Pretty high, actually. 

Chris was standing next to his dad, glaring a hole in the newly installed carpet of what had once been the theater lobby. Paige shook Papa Morrison’s hand and took some keys from him. You froze when Chis looked up and made eye contact with you, but Eddie squeezed your hand protectively and all Chris could do was cross his arms and follow his dad out of the theater with his tail between his legs. 

You’d learn much later from Robin (who heard from Columbia), that Papa Morrison had never intended to keep the theater, just hold it to sell out to someone else. Rage hadn’t been the feeling you had felt, but something between anger and disappointment conflicted with the fact that Corroded Coffin was finally getting the start they deserved here. 

Summer had never felt so bittersweet. 

It wasn’t all disappointment though, there were certain perks that came with being with the band. Every time they were in the studio, you found yourself talking to the staff, learning more about how studios worked, and that this specific studio was special. The radio tower that had been placed on top wasn’t just for show, Paige had decided that the best way to get Left Turn on the radio was to become a 2 in 1 radio station. 

You were enamored instantly. 

While Corroded Coffin worked with writing and playing, you found yourself bothering anyone who would talk to you until Paige decided that it would just be easier to allow you to intern with them on the radio side. 

You didn’t even bother giving Keith your two weeks notice. Your ugly polyester vest was dropped off with your last movie rental and keys. You hugged Steve and Robin, thanked them for everything that they had done for you and never looked back. Thankfully, you didn’t have to go to that store ever again, as there was a new rental chain called Blockbusters starting up right down the street from your home. 

“So, they’re really going to let you play Time Warp as your bonus track?” you asked one night as Eddie restrung his guitar. “I thought there’d be like, copyright stuff or something like that.”

“Paige explained it to me, it’s a bunch of weird legal loopholes but that’s the plan.” He said, plucking one of the strings. 

“And you’re good with it?” you asked, taking a strand of his hair and twirling it around your finger. “It’s not exactly about fighting demons or D&D.”

“Maybe not, but it’s the song that helped us get signed.” Eddie reached up to take your hand in his, and you laced your fingers together. “I have a soft spot for it.” 

“I hope you all get to shoot a music video for the cover.” you smiled. “I would pay anything to see you in Tim Curry’s lingerie.” 

“Not in a million years.” he laughed and kissed your hand before letting go. He fiddled with his guitar, checking the tuning as he started playing. You always found the electric guitar a little funny sounding, especially when it wasn’t plugged in. 

Eddie’s voice had gotten better over the last few months since Corroded Coffin started working professionally, but there was something about his voice that was distinctly him. Something raw and real, that couldn’t be replicated or trained. 

“I love you, Eddie.” you said, interrupting the chorus. He stopped and looked up at you with a grin. 

“I love you, too.” Eddie said back, and you leaned in and kissed him again. 

Let’s do the Time Warp again

Let’s do the Time Warp again. 

a/n: Well folks, this is it! This is the official last chapter of Wing Man. The epilogue and post-credit scene will come out on Friday (the one year anniversary of me posting chapter 1!). I'll have more to say about that later, but for now, thank you all for the support. I couldn't have done this without you all <3

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

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