#<-you hooked up years ago and he’s never let you forget it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

norikuna · 1 month ago

Text

THAT'S SO TRUE — toji fushiguro

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (e) and let the show begin !

prologue. → you vowed to yourself that you would rock toji fushiguro's world as a new year's resolution. but it's christmas eve already, and the year is almost over. by hook or by crook, you're gonna that gorgeous, buff older man in your bed tonight.

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader (reader uses she/her pronouns)

warnings. reader has never been chill a day in her life, áge gáp, dílf!toji, big díck toji (ofc), voyeurísm (sorta implied), másturbátion (f), jealous sèx, reader watches toji through binoculars, they match each other's freak, creámpíe, reader gets called 'slutty' and 'doll', orál (m and f. receiving)

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. that's so true — gracie abrams

a/n. incredible art by sakimichan 🍃 i had so much fun writing this 😁 reader is an adult!! i imagined toji to be 35-ish, and reader to be 22...? its christmas day for me so i'm a tad late 😩

mp3. bet you're thinking 'she's so cool' kicking back on your couch, making eyes from across the room. wait! i think i've been there too!

if your friends knew what you were up to right now, they'd skip the intervention and go straight to dragging you to the nearest police precinct.

forget a lecture, they would slap a pair of handcuffs on you first, citing charges of being horny to the first degree.

officer! she just can't keep it in her pants!

but did you care? not in the slightest.

you adjust the blinds, nudging them just enough to angle your binoculars a little lower. focus sharpened, lens zoomed in, and there he was. the object of your totally healthy, not-at-all unhinged plan.

the target in question? toji fushiguro.

your next-door neighbour, who also happened to look like he'd walked straight out of a naked biker calendar. leather jacket snug over his broad shoulders, a frame built for sin, and pectorals that were so sculpted, you often dreamed of bouncing walnuts off them. just to see if the nuts would crack.

months ago, you had made a new years resolution to yourself that you wouldn't end this year without bagging the man at least once.

yet here you were on christmas eve, a few days shy of the year's end, still plotting and scheming like a bond villain on how you could charm the socks right off toji fushiguro.

but you feared that tonight was beginning to deliver a cold, harsh slap of reality.

your heart suddenly gives an undignifed lurch as toji swings off his motorcycle in one fluid motion. but your smirk — yes, you had been smirking and you wouldn't deny that, vanished the moment your binoculars caught sight of her.

right behind him, a woman dismounted with all the grace and mature confidence that you wished you could summon on a good day.

you twist the focus knob, an unfamiliar figure sharpening into clarity. tall, polished, probably closer to toji's age rather than yours, and way too pretty for your scheming, heinous comfort.

she's hooking her arm through his like they did this all the time, and her cherry-sweet smile beams up at him like he'd hung the damn christmas lights himself.

and then, then! she leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, casual as a snowflake fluttering onto the concrete below.

your chest tightens oddly, though whether it was from jealousy or sheer mortification, you couldn't tell. and you didn't want to tell.

toji fushiguro, for his part, didn't seem fazed, at least, not outwardly. he turns his shaggy head away, smiling faintly with that gruff and polite expression he sometimes wore when someone cornered him into small talk.

not that it mattered. you couldn't stop the frown that tugged at your lips, watching the pair disappear out of view, the motorcycle keys still dangling from his thick fingers.

you sigh, setting the binoculars down with a little more force than necessary. tonight was supposed to be your night, the grand finale where you capped the year off with a big win in the shape of this six-foot-two man, with green eyes that could strike you dumb.

and you had even planned ahead! you'd been certain that there wouldn't be any pesky interruptions, particularly of the pint-sized variety.

not that you had anything against megumi fushiguro, he was a good kid — if a little unnerving with that brooding energy he carried around like a hefty backpack.

but still, you'd never really spoken to him much. call it morals or basic decency, but dragging a clueless kid into your schemes just felt a little wrong.

so when you had overheard toji casually mentioning that megumi was out for a sleepover with some friend, something about how nice it would be to have a night for himself, you had taken that as a sign from the universe. a green light.

fate herself waving you through the doors to make your move.

except now, traitorous fate had also thrown you a curveball in the form of the older, mystery woman who had been clinging to toji's back on the motorcyle. all expensive burgundy fur, and a darling blowout that was way out of a college student's pay cheque.

still, you're not the kind of woman who folds at the first sign of trouble. no, you think, squaring your shoulders. who would you be if you gave up now? perseverance is the backbone of triumph, or something like that.

the walls of this apartment are criminally thin, and you trust that the muffled thuds coming from next door are none other than toji fushiguro leading his...date up the stairs and down the hallway. the metallic jingle of keys confirms it, a sound that sends a pang of irritation prickling beneath your skin.

your gaze shifts to your desk, to the corkboard cluttered up with polaroids of your friends, random university flyers, and pinned up lecture schedules that you never follow. you press three fingers to your lips, in a respectful and solemn kiss, before tapping your photograph of aaron hotchner, in a promise for the near future.

"i won't give up, hotch," you murmur, the solemn, printed face of thomas gibson crossing his arms — gazing back at you, a beacon of motivational determination.

and with that, you grab a notepad and the first pen you can find, even though it's half-dried and it can barely write. you flip the pages open, and begin dotting down your back-up plan on how to score toji fushiguro tonight.

you're pretty sure it's been an hour since you started furiously scribbling on paper. five dried-out pens and a mountain of crumpled drafts later, each one titled with variations of how to get toji fushiguro in my bed, your notepad is starting to look like a pathetic manifesto.

you sip idly at your grape soda, the fizzy sweetness staining your tongue a violent purple. and listen, to be clear, you're absolutely a feminist. truly. you're not the type to believe in pitting women against each other. that's messy, unsophisticated, and frankly it's far beneath you.

but sadly, here's the other thing. desperate times call for desperate measures. and as much as you hate to admit it, toji fushiguro, your brooding and hulking neighbour with shoulders that eclipse the sun, has your resolve teetering right on the edge. the wanting and lusty human spirit is unbreakable, and the idea of losing is as appealing as licking sandpaper.

the sound of a low thud breaks through your plotting, as you drop the end of the pen out of your mouth. your ears perk up at the faint creak of a door opening. you recognise the gruff voice, muffled through the thin walls.

"damn heater's out again. 'm just gonna go check the switch downstairs."

uh-huh. that's what you thought. this was just act one of the stage play.

see, about forty five minutes ago, inspiration had struck. you'd realised you needed to get toji out of his apartment, and given his bear-like simplicity: eat, sleep, grumble, repeat, it wasn't exactly that easy.

but every man needed his rest, and no man could rest on christmas eve when the snow was sticking to the window pane from the cold.

so, you had snuck downstairs and flipped the heater's breaker to his apartment off, leaving the rest blissfully untouched. setting an ideal trap for the vast man.

you crack your door open, just enough to watch him lumber off towards the left staircase.

it's one of two routes down to the basement, and the fastest, if you hadn't intercepted fate. about twenty minutes into your plan, you had grabbed a handful of out of order signs (printed with comic sans, the true villain of typography) and plastered them halfway down the left flight of stairs.

you dart towards the right staircase, your knee-high socks skimming the concrete steps in a frantic descent. as you reach the halfway point, you hear the telltale grunt of a frustrated toji.

"damn management can't even warn people about closures," he's muttering to himself, heavy footsteps falling in line behind yours.

right on cue. by the time he reaches the basement, there you are, innocently peering at the big, clunky switchboard. like it wasn't you who had just broken into it to render toji's apartment a freezing chill.

your sweater's been strategically tugged off one shoulder, and you're pretending the icy air isn't slicing at your bare legs, left exposed by the shortest pair of shorts you own.

"what brings ya down here?" toji grunts, his voice low and rough like gravel underfoot.

you count it as a small victory when his eyes sweep over you, slow and deliberate, before the older man coughs and shifts his focus back to the switchboard. you sidle closer under the guise of curiosity, so close that the fabric of your sweater brushes his arm. the steel biceps flexing under the tight, black fabric of his tee.

"i don't know," you sigh, feigning innocence with a touch of melancholia, "it jus' got so cold of all a sudden." you cross your arms over your chest, pretending to shiver just enough to catch his attention without looking concerningly ill.

toji glances down at you briefly, his brow furrowing, "mhm. yeah," he mutters, before turning back to the labyrinth of switches, "can't believe how these clowns the place."

you watch as the man leans in, studying the panel like it's some kind of ancient artefact. his expression is set in that serious, furrowed way men always get when faced with the unfamiliar terrain of household maintenance.

cute. almost.

you, of course, had done your homework. a quick google search of the model number earlier had led you to the manual, and you already knew it was the purple switch on the top right. but why rush, eh? if toji fushiguro wanted to play handyman, who were you to deprive him? especially when you needed a little more time to set the mood, to give him some ideas.

every time his fingers hovered closer to the correct switch, you leaned in, cutting him off with casual chatter. enough to have the man's eyes drop over you once more, before flicking away before he could break the bounds of propriety.

"so, are you doing anything tonight?"

"what?" his gruff tone reverberates through the dim basement, bouncing off the concrete walls.

you flutter your lashes at him, meeting his sharp, verdant gaze, "i mean, it's christmas eve. got any fun plans?"

he straightens slightly, his hand falling from the panel as he looks right at you, "nah. just stayin' in." but toji tilts his head and throws the question back at you, "why aren't you?"

"why aren't i, what?" you tilt your head to mirror the man, feigning confusion, "staying inside? i was, but then i got cold. y'know, busted heater and all."

toji exhales through his nose, and you watch mesmerised as the scar twitches over his lip, "no, doll. i mean, doing something fun. you're young. got your whole life ahead of you to be old and boring."

the faintest flicker of a genuine smile tugs at the corner of your glossy lips. if only he knew. you clear your throat, "i guess," and you shrug, the movement subtle, but just enough to let your sweater slip a little further off your shoulder, "it's just not my...taste."

your gaze trails over him, deliberate but not obvious enough to tip the scales out of your hand. you hope that you're not wide-eyed taking in how his broad shoulders ripple, almost tense?

"ah." toji fushiguro, everybody. a man of great wit, and even greater vocabulary.

he's tapping a knuckle against the switchboard, frowning at the rows of colourful levers like they've personally insulted him. you take the moment to edge a little closer, peering up at him with a deliberate and doe-eyed expression.

"need help?" you ask, voice sweet enough to break through teeth.

toji snorts, "you? help me with this?" he glances at you sideways, one thin brow quirking up, "i've got this, doll," but he seems to sober up, remembering that he does not have this, "unless you even know what this thing does?"

"of course i do," you shrug, feigning nonchalance, "i'm pretty good at flicking the right switch."

and what a sweet, untainted victory when toji's movements still. he doesn't tear his gaze away from the switchboard, but his hands pause and you see his lips twitch, "uh-huh."

"you should probably head back upstairs," he says gruffly, his tone almost concerned, "basement's freezin' and you're gonna catch a cold in, uh," and toji's gesturing vaguely at your thin ensemble, clearly trying to be polite.

"i know, but i was just comfortable in this," you run your hands, pretending to tug at the hem of your shorts. ignoring how the goosebumps are practically beating your ass right now, and you're about an inch of a temperature drop away from hypothermia.

toji fushiguro mutters something under his breath, something about attitude and young people these days, but he doesn't move away when you sidle back closer to him again, the faint brush of your arm against his making the great man stiffen up again.

"so, no christmas eve plans at all?" you press again, cocking your head, "not even a little festive cheer? eggnog?"

"festive cheer?" toji scoffs, finally pulling the purple switch as the low hum of the heater continues to chug away. dusting his hands off like he's just solved a national crisis, like you couldn't have solved that ten minutes ago, "i'm not big on christmas."

"that's tragic," you sigh, "and i was gonna ask you to stand with me under the mistletoe." your tone is teasing, light enough to deflect any serious questions but you let your lips form a soft pout. just enough to teeter on the edge of innocence. the faint, almost-whine in your tone is carefully calibrated: harmless on the surface but laced with the kind of undercurrent that can plant ideas in a man's head.

"ya' got jokes tonight," toji's gaze lingers, a little longer than necessary. you don't miss the way his shoulders draw tighter together. how his jaw ticks, but the real prize for you is when his hand slides up to rub the back of his neck, fingers kneading at the thick muscle, like he's trying to shake something loose.

the corner of your mouth twitches again, oh. you've got him now.

"imagine going through life, so lonely on christmas. that's gotta do something to a person." you're so not seeing the pearly gates, but you've come to terms with that.

"yeah? like what?" toji huffs.

you tap a finger against your chin, pretending to think, "well. for starters, it probably makes you very grumpy."

"tch, 'm not grumpy," toji rasps, but his tone says otherwise, as he runs a hand through sleek strands of dark hair, "yer' something else, you know that?"

"i've been told."

tojo shakes his head again, and you don't miss the faint smile tugging at the corner of his thin mouth, "alright, kid. time to head back up before you freeze to death down here."

time's up on this charade. you puff out a breath, your coy bravado dimming just a little bit, "fine, fine. but i'm not a kid, y'know."

toji's green eyes flick to yours, like chips of sea-glass as he holds your gaze, before turning back towards the stairs, "yeah. i know."

you follow him up in silence, the soft patter of your socks suddenly too cold on the pavement. at the top of the steps, toji pauses, glancing back at you with an unreadable expression, "get some rest. and make sure no-one's messin' with the switches."

"why would they do that?" you say, a touch too quickly.

"no reason," toji says, just as abruptly, stepping back as though putting physical distance between you two would help, "but it's all fixed now. go on, back to your apartment."

you blink, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift, "what? no thanks for keeping you company."

"thanks," toji fushiguro says flatly, but his gaze isn't unkind.

"wow. don't get too sentimental on me now."

"goodnight," the man deadpans, swinging your door open for you, just for good measure. before turning on his heel, and heading for his own room.

back to the drawing board.

toji fushiguro is convinced that the universe has it out for him. some karmic retribution is surely circling overhead, just waiting to strike. because really, what other explanation is there for his constant predicaments?

his life had been fine, a little lonely, sure, but manageable. until you moved in next door, perhaps sometime last year. sweet, maddening, entirely too pretty for your own good.

what the hell was toji supposed to do with that?

he's still rubbing the back of his neck, pushing open the door to his apartment. his date, right, was still perched on the old couch, scrolling through her phone. she's looking up at him when he entered, arching a brow.

"hey, you were gone for a while," she lightly comments, tucking her phone away.

"yeah, uh, sorry 'bout that," he mutters, crossing to the kitchen, "this place has a habit of breaking down on me."

shui had set him up with this woman, insisting that toji needed to crawl out of his self-imposed hermit hole and start living a little.

"you're not getting any younger, fushiguro," shui had snarked, as if toji didn't already feel every year weighing on him. so, fine. he'd agreed, figuring one dinner with a woman way out of his tax bracket wouldn't kill him.

and to be fair, the date had been...fine. the woman was attractive, sharp-witted, and she didn't pester him with inane questions. the kind of woman that most people would be thrilled to spend an evening with. but toji just couldn't shake the strange emptiness that had settled in his chest.

still, he had told himself to quit overthinking. maybe he was just out of practice. or maybe shui oddly had a point, and he needed to stop letting life pass him by. so, he'd invited her back to his place, hoping another glass of wine and small talk would lead one things into another.

what he hadn't counted on was running into you in the basement. how your light voice would replay in his head, that teasing lilt burrowing under his thick skin and leaving him restless.

tojo shakes his head, reaching for a couple of glasses and the half-decent bottle of wine that he kept stashed away from megumi's prying hands. kid was at that age where he was too damn curious for his own good about everything. his brain, however, was still stuck in the basement, circling around you.

what the hell had you been doing there anyway? sidling up to him all close, sickeningly sweet perfume or some shit that made his jaw clench. batting long lashes at him, and teasing him about mistletoe kisses.

civility. decency. that was the bare minimum that he could give you, wasn't it?

"you've got quite the collection of, uh, things up there," his date's voice pulls him back, gesturing to the open cabinet with a polite smile. toji glances at colourful boxes of cereal, and the little plastic bowls with cartoon animals splashed all over them. megumi's favourites.

"yeah," he says gruffly, pouring the wine, "got a kid. just the one."

she nods, taking the glass he hands her, "that's sweet. how old?"

"six. he's...not here tonight."

before his date can reply, catch the insinuation that he's thrown out, another sound filters through the paper-thin walls. a giggle, a sweet laugh followed by a voice he knows all too well.

"i know, right! he was like, totally into me!"

toji freezes, the wine bottle hovering mid-pour over his second glass. he sets the bottle down with a little more force than necessary, pretending not to notice the way his date glanced toward the wall, clearly having heard you too. fantastic. as if the universe hadn't done enough to torment him today.

his teeth ground together as your voice floated through again, a singsong lilt that made his chest thump, and irritation flare all at once. what were you even talking about? who the hell was 'totally' into you?

"uh-huh," you had been laughing, your voice carrying through the wall, "and then, he asked me out!"

toji's grip tightens on his glass, wondering who on earth managed to pull you into a date. wait, why did he even care?

his date seems oblivious to the internal war raging inside of him, taking a sip of her wine and smiling, "so, what's your son's name?"

"megumi," he mutters, absently, eyes flicking through the wall like he could see through it if he squinted hard enough. ugh, what an awful thing to think. what was wrong with him? acting like freak, not able to mind his own business.

his date's laugh is soft and polite, "that's cute."

cute, yeah.

you thought it was cute too, didn't you? he remembered the way your eyes lit up when megumi toddled after you once in the hallway, clutching one of his ridiculous animal-print bowls.

"oh, what did i say?" your voice drifts again through the walls, following by a light laugh, "look, he was cute and all, but he just wasn't my type."

toji rubs a hand down his face, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his noise. you're just his neighbour. you're entitled to have your fun, to live your own life. that doesn't mean he has to like hearing about it.

meanwhile, his date sits stiffly on the couch, politely pretending your voice isn't bleeding through the walls like a radio she can't turn off. she's doing a commendable job of feigning disinterest, but toji knows it's killing what little momentum the evening had.

he clears his throat, trying to salvage things, "so, uh, got any plans for tomorrow? something fun for christmas?" great, now he's stealing lines from you.

her smile tightens, polite but clearly wavering, "just lunch with my family. my sister's bringing her kids over."

toji nods, grasping at conversational straws, "that's nice. i've got, uh, a brother. and an annoying little cousin."

"right," and she's glancing up at the clock, her patience thinning faster than her smile.

"oh, come on," your voice pipes up again, clearer this time, "you know my type's never been those kinds of guys. i like the big, rough ones." there's a pause, and then you laugh, the sound both coy and infuriatingly knowing, "yeah, like a bit older. all muscles."

toji freezes, trying to pretend like his insides aren't doing the tango. his date, on the other hand, has clearly reached her limit. her lips purse into a tight smile as she stands, smoothing her dress, "look, you've been nice and all," she says, voice clipped, clearly cutting off the chances of a second date, "but i really should get going."

toji fushiguro doesn't argue. doesn't even try to stop her. just watches as her expensive-ass coat swings off his couch, her heels clicking toward the door and her figure vanishing down the hallway.

he slouches back on the couch, arms sprawled wide, feigning a calm that he doesn't definitely feel. in truth, he's seconds away from keeling over, his chest tight and his pulse betrays him.

"huh?" your voice filters through the paper-thin walls, questioning and laced with mirth. the sound sends a shiver down his spine, and down somewhere else, "oh, my neighbour? toji, yep, that's him!"

his head jerks up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, eyes boring into the wall like he can will it to dissolve. tch, he's being such a dog. his ears are straining, sharp and unreasonably hopeful.

"yeah, he's so perfectly my type. tsk! yes, of course, i wish he'd just...yeah. anyway. but," you sigh, a dramatic exhale, "but i just don' think he's into me."

toji freezes, as heat floods his face, creeping down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. there's a traitorous clench in his groin as his stomach flips in a way that's both exhilarating and completely unwelcome.

the truth — shameful and complicated as it is — is that he is very much into you. has been for months. and it's getting worse.

every time you lean into him with those wide, sparkling eyes, every time you tease him with some playful jab or brush your fingers against his arm like it’s nothing, it carves a little deeper into his self-control. you're sweet, bright, always full of questions and comments that manage to sound innocent and maddeningly suggestive all at once.

but there's a prickling shame that comes with it, too, a harsh voice in the back of his head that tells him to grow the hell up. he's a grown man, for crying out loud.

a grown man with a kid who needs him, who already has enough on his plate without the complication of a pretty little neighbour who could turn his world upside down without even trying.

what could he offer you, anyway? you, who barrels down the hall in the mornings with an oversized bag bouncing against your hip, always late for something important, always in motion.

your life is big and full and bursting with possibilities. his, by comparison, feels...worn. quiet. comfortable in a way that makes him feel ancient when he looks at you.

still, it doesn't stop toji from looking. or from thinking things he shouldn't, like how your laughter lights up even the dullest days. or sometimes, in the quiet hours of the night, pulling his hard cock out to tug on it, imagining your doe-eyes peering up at him.

toji rubs a hand over his face, groaning quietly into the crook of his elbow. what the fuck is he supposed to do with this?

you're starting to lose precious steam. for all your big talk about not giving up and winning toji over, the spark of confidence that got you this far is starting to sputter out. the lines that you'd carefully scribbled in blue ballpoint ink, a full script of fake laughter and coy quips begins to feel...a little tragic.

half an hour of pacing your apartment and pretending to be on the phone has left you feeling deflated, and painfully self-aware. your voice has grown too practiced, too rehearsed and you're starting to wonder if you even sound convincing anymore. and for all you know, toji fushiguro didn't even hear one word of it.

he's probably in there, sprawled on his couch, having a great time with his date. maybe laughing, maybe pouring wine, or maybe he's taken her to bed. fuck, your stomach lurches as your insides flip for no good, kind reason.

you glance at the cooling grape soda on your nightstand, still fizzing lazily in its can, and suddenly feeling quite awful. disgusted with yourself for the plotting, the dramatics, and the fact that it hasn't paid off in the slightest.

with a sigh that's more frustrated and resigned, you flop back onto your bed, ignoring the slight bounce of the mattress as you land. your apartment suddenly feels too hot, the air sticky and stifling.

you kick off the blanket that's bunched around your ankles, and you lie sprawled on top of the quilt. head tilted back against the pillows as you take in the dull hum of the light fixture and the occasional creak of the pipes.

with a despondent sigh, you find yourself half-heartedly parting your legs — maybe to entertain some false fantasy instead. you could have gone out, maybe really lived a little, just as toji had suggested.

you roll down the waistband of your shorts, pulling at the soft, elastic band. just tugging them down enough so you can trail your hands over the flesh of your thighs. yeah, you were that morose right now.

perhaps, you should have accepted the invites to all those christmas parties. you could have dolled up a little, grabbed a sweet drink or two on the house, fallen into the strong arms of a stranger?

you trail your hands over thin, soft skin. nails gently grazing over your mound, as you quickly run your middle finger through your slit, already dewy and moist. you muffle a small whine, because for all your showmanship earlier, you weren't above decency. and these walls were truly that thin.

but it's hard to not buck your hips up into your own touch, working your puffy cunt open with steady fingers. one finger, and then a second, fluttering at a gentle pace. how telling that the mysterious stranger in your fantasies is suddenly far older, with hazy green eyes and charcoal hair falling over his face.

you substitute the slap of your fingers for his, pretending its a rough thumb that pulls at your clit, gently pushing the throbbing hood up to run misshapen circles over the bundle of nerves.

"hah," you try to gnaw at your lower lip, keeping your mouth shut, as you're desparate for the creak of your bed frame to not carry over into the apartment next door, "t-toji, please."

there's a faint thud from next door, like someone has just hit their head. but you can hardly register it in your own mind. shuffling whines leaving your lips, as you use your fingers to stretch out your slick, sodden walls. getting faster, and faster with each piston-like gesture to curl the pads of your fingers up. searching, keening around for that rough spot that makes you squeal.

your eyes are fluttering shut, lashes falling against your cheek as your jaw tightens, heartbeat beginning to race as you heave for air, back arching up as you use your other hand to furiously flick over your clit, building up a steady ache in your wrist that you ignore, "ah, ah, toji, r-right there, fuck, 'm close."

each press of your finger against the walls of your entrance results in a large squelch echoing through your ears, getting closer and closer to that devastating peak, all the while as hallucination-toji snickers down at you and —

"hey!"

and just like that, your long-awaited orgasm, your beautiful climax, well. she disappears with nary a goodbye. your eyes snap open, heart hammering as you blink up at the dull ceiling. your hand is yanked away from your cunt, the cool air suddenly hitting the slick that's coating your fingers. your mind stutters, scrambling for clarity as an all-too-familiar voice cuts through the quiet.

"hey! c'mon, doll. don't have all day."

toji. toji fushiguro. oh, shit.

the panic rises quickly, what are your options? dive out the window and hope that you land on your feet? or fake an illness so convincing that you convince him that's contagious so he leaves? you consider it for a moment, but something else takes over. far more brave, or just reckless and lust-addled. you pull yourself upright, tugging your shorts back up. you shift your sheets, making sure that the dark, translucent patch is covered.

you pad towards the door with the air of a man marked for execution. when you swing it open, you're met with a red-faced toji. is he flushed?

you drop any cute pretense, and instead, lock your petulant gaze on his chest, straight up with the no eye-contact rule. it gives you a real, shameless good look at those heavenly sculpted pecs.

"what do you want?" you ask, voice as flat as you can possibly manage. but you're keenly aware of that mirror-gloss still coating your hands, and you wonder if its too obvious to scrunch your fingers in your sweatshirt. gross, someone get you out of here. the misery of your own making.

toji stands there, entirely dumbounded, and you notice the flush creeping up the peachy tan of his neck, a shade deeper than usual, "what do i want? what do you want?" he says, his voice rock-rasp.

you swallow thickly, ignoring the addled scent of leather, musk and something far more faintly addictive, "i have no idea what you mean."

toji huffs, obviously amused, before mimicking your voice with exaggerated sweetness, "oh, toji, please. right there, toji." he's mocking you, and your skin burns with the recent memory of that exact tone.

you consider for a split second if you can just hand him your lease tomorrow morning and call it quits. but then, toji continues, "y'know these walls are thin, right?"

you cross your arms, trying to steady yourself, ignoring how your poor cunt clenches with the faint memory of her ruined orgasm, "really? i had no idea."

toji mirrors your actions, his arms folding, but the effect only pushes his pecs up, and you try not to get distracted. but it's hard, very hard, "don't get all smart with me now. been hearing you giggle all evenin' and being all slutty."

"thought you had a date," you mutter, the act of playing pretend has long since passed and you're too far gone now to pretend. you scowl up at toji, meeting his gaze head-on, feeling your heart race as his eyes narrow and his pink lips part slightly. you can almost feel the urgent heat of his gaze dragging over your hand, your damp fingertips.

"how'd you know about my date? suddenly real concerned for me?" toji tilts his head, voice laced with infuriating amusement, and you fight the urge to lash out, to throw yourself into him and kiss him fuckin' stupid. instead, you dig in your heels, staying put.

"no, i'm not concerned," you stutter, floundering for a reason, "i'm just, well —"

"who asked you out?" toji cuts through your flickering thoughts, an undercurrent of something sharper in his tone.

"huh?"

"who was it? the one who isn't your type?" toji fushiguro says this all so casually, making your stomach flip. so he had been listening, he heard every word of you flouncing around your room.

you swallow hard, ignoring the sudden fluttering in your chest, "why? you jealous?" the words spill out before you can stop them, you raise an eyebrow, feeling a small victory in the way his priggish expression falters just slightly, "just go back to your date, fushiguro."

"gettin' real bold now," he murmurs, and you realise just how close the two of you are. how you can feel his body heart radiating off him. the tension between you is suffocating to say the last, and you can't decide if you want him to step back or push closer. he doesn't give you a chance to answer.

"thanks to your pretty antics, she sent herself packin', and now i'm all on my lonesome."

"how sad for you," and you suddenly curl your lip, "get a vibrator."

toji's maw drops open for a split second, before he shakes his head, "you first. don't know how you were doing all that without one," and he nods to your hand, "and because i wasn't hearin' much else."

something bold and red-hot comes over you, egged on by the damp sticking to your thighs, "want a visual demonstration?"

you barely have time to form a coherent thought before toji moves, a low growl rumbling in his barrel-like chest as he surges forward. his hands, large and calloused and warm, cup your face with surprising gentleness, though the intensity in his gaze leaves no room for doubt. then, his lips crash against yours, rough and unrelenting. the faint scrape of the scar cutting across his mouth sending a shiver through you.

it's not careful, it's testing and tasting. as if he's waiting for you to push him away. but oh, you're not going anywhere. not when his kiss is setting your nerves alight, and sending your heart into a dizzying free fall. merry christmas to you, indeed.

you respond in kind, just as desperate, your hands flying up to clutch at his shoulders. the solid, hefty weight of toji beneath your fingers grounds you, even as the world tilts on its axis.

"ohh, look at you," toji all but purrs, pawing his hands over your back, your waist, settling over your hips as he pushes you further into your apartment. a strong arm stretching out to slam the door closed, tugging you further in. it seems he's too needy to even reach the bed, and you whine as you're shoved with your back to the wall. his hand coming up to make sure you don't quite slam in with too much force.

toji's lips are practically meshed to your own, and he's already pulling at the waistband of your shorts again. just as you were doing earlier, and you shudder, feeling thick fingers run along your hips.

"s-shit," toji gasps, "if ya' don't want me to —"

you groan, "no, n-no. want you," your voice quivers suddenly as warm fingers press into your soaked cunt. finding home right among your weeping slit. you don't even see where your shorts have been thrown, instead focusing on toji's hazy eyes flickering when they see that you've been wearing nothing underneath. all damn evening.

you don't think you've ever seen the man so dishevelled, heaving for air, as he tries to come to terms with all this, "so when you were in that basement, jus' tryna tease me? is that what you wanted?"

you can't help but laugh, but it's quickly cut off when toji's pressing a hot kiss to the very tip of your clit, it's so feather light and oddly gentle for the gruff man, and it has you keening over.

"that's it, gon' have you all in my mouth. gonna drink ya' up, it's what you wanted, right?" he uses two fingers to press right up against your entrance, parting your oozing folds so he can narrow his eyes at how ready you are for him, "gonna put this all in a cup, and drink it."

"t-toji!" you whine out, feeling your head go all light, and weightless, watching toji play with your core. seeing the older man gape at how you're soaking divots into his fingers, seeing emerald eyes darken with a carnal need to taste you. right now.

"stay still, doll. yeah, just for a sec," toji's hands tighten around your thighs, smacking a fat glob of spit over your trembling core, letting his index finger run the fluid up and down your pussy, a ragged laugh running raw from his smart mouth, "had no idea you were like this, been burying your pretty fingers in your cunt for me before, right?"

you need to get a hit of your own in, before toji fushiguro turns your mind to mush, "you been fisting around your cock for me, then too? bet it super hard when — fuck!"

your words are cut off by the flat pads of his fingertips coming down to deliver a jolt to your throbbing clit, slapping wet arousal around as toji almost glares up at you, but it's softened by lazy fondness.

"watch ya' mouth, doll. 'm wanting to go easy on you tonight."

he's delving straight into your cunt, like a man starved and searching for salvation between your thighs. you feel your mind go blank, that ruined orgasm of the past hour practically gaining a life of her own and cheering once more, coming back to you in embarrassing, full force as it barely takes a few, quick munches of toji's tongue around your sweet pussy.

that's all you need before you're quickly seeing flashing stars, and doing your best to hide the tremble in your thighs. but toji's having none of that.

his laugh is low, mocking and so ruined, "tchh, i really did interrupt ya' didn't i? must have been so close on that bed," but he's not stopping, practically speaking into your stimulated cunt, punctuating his words with buttery kisses, "must have caught ya' on the very edge for her to so ready for me."

"shut u-up."

"your wish? my command," toji snickers, letting your slick, running juices gather over his chin, "and you taste so good. she's a sweet thing, right," and you realise that he's not talking about you, but rather, about your weeping, glossy cunt that's shoved against his sharp nose. you've got the man practically pussydrunk already, and he's hardly gotten a good feel for it.

his hand comes to rest on your bare thigh, tapping it, "now 'm gonna need you to move that, yeah, that's right," you're slotting it over his broad shoulders, and it pulls him closer. and at this point, you don't even care for how you should be embarrassed, should be feeling some shame at having this rugged, older man salivating into your cunt. but there's a shocking glee instead, a quiet victory that's bubbling in your abdomen and already demanding an encore.

his tongue darts out again, this time he's prodding the muscle at your entrance, feeling for that slight resistance made weaker by your fingers earlier, all on your own. the very tip of his tongue in you has you whining again, slapping a hand over your lolling mouth.

"move that hand," toji grunts, punctuating each word with a flick to your clit.

"i c-can't," you gasp, hands finding a home in his clingy, dark strands, "people are gonna hear-ahhh," he's practically mouthing himself onto your pussy, slick strands separating from his lips each time he pulled away for air. the stimulation is making you so much more sensitive, tears springing to the corners of your eyes as the pleasure begins to sting so deliciously.

you pull fingers through ink-black hair, delicate threads that are soft to the touch and feather-light, "h-here, toji," you curl your fingers to angle him perfectly just so, and the burly man is letting you use him, letting you drag his mouth over your slippery folds. just so you can get him to flick his tongue over that spot that makes you cry out so perfectly.

and toji thinks he's never seen a greater sight. he feels a dizzy, heaving tightness in his jeans, that ache building in his groin like he's about to bust his load just from having you fall apart so prettily on his tongue. he ups the pace, making sure to nimbly etch patterns over your heated, swollen clit. he had you right where he wanted you, needed you, and he'd be damned before he'd left you high and dry.

"y'know, 'm thinking about to see this pretty pussy cum again," and toji sounds so proud, taking gratified in the fact that after only one taste, he's already attuned to the signs of your climax. the way your eyes roll back in your head, tears pricking at your eyes in a way that makes his cock ache even harder.

you're unabashed now, rolling your hips into him at a messy pace. letting spikes of white-hot and red-searing pleasure curl up in your abdomen, ready to burst. the entirety of his lower chin is coated in sweet slick, glistening his rough scar, with a clear drop just beading at his lip.

"i-i think 'm gonna, toji, toji - feels s-so —"

toji's mocking you, pitching his raspy voice up again to capture your tone, "oh yeah? 'm gonna, what? what are ya' gonna do? gonna cum, because that's what i'm here for, doll."

he's making a mess now, switching between a cool, short puff of air at your throbbing clit, and letting his tongue push into your gummy walls, unending pleasure until —

"aaand, cum. now, doll."

it bursts within you, swiftly and briskly. so intense that the edges of your visions become clouded with dark spots, a hazy vignette of sheer pleasure from toji's mouth running all over the filthy mess you've created. the gushing climax that must be soaking the scuffed, dark floorboards beneath toji's bent knees.

you don't even realise that you're still babbling his name, entirely lost in the daze of your second orgasm of the night. little cries of toji, like a prayer over and over, mantras that are making toji grin with his gleaming lips underneath you. all as he wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you with brute strength. all the while not separating himself from your oversensitive cunt, petting soft kisses over your inner thighs, "gorgeous thing, aren'tcha? think ya' give me another one?"

you groggily lift your head as he sets you down on the bed, caging you beneath his considerable frame, "why? don't wanna, uh, stuff my stocking tonight?"

toji's green eyes flicker with mirth, amusement, only punctuated by him rolling them back in faux-disgust, "still runnin' that clever mouth, hah."

you squirm as he pushes his rough hands under your sweatshirt, letting both hands cup your breasts, pinching and twirling fingertips over your nipples, "are you a, mmph, a candy cane, toji?"

he doesn't break his concentration from where he's peeling your top off, "what nasty shit are ya' gonna say now?"

you giggle as he brushes past a particularly ticklish spot, "because i think you're s-sweet, and i wanna suck you."

"fuck."

in the blink of an eye, he's got you perched over on your knees, just as he hovers you. waistband pulled down enough to reveal black boxers, close enough that you could stick your chin out and press a soft kiss to the darkened patch of pre-cum that must be driving toji crazy.

and well, it's big. like it's jingle bells, jingle balls type of big. you drag your eyes from soft, curled black hair at the base of his groin and down an angry, thick red shaft that makes you clench your thighs.

"wan' me to slide over your chimney?"

that gifts you a barked, punched laugh out of the man — toji's got a large hand wrapped around his cock, "c'mon, doll. put that smart mouth to good use then," inching it closer to your lips in silent permission. you part your lips, anticipating the savoury pre that coats your tongue, the translucent fluid dripping from your mouth already.

he's thumbing down on your lower lip, easing the red mushroom tip into your waiting, eager mouth, "hah, think ya' were meant to take me. how's...how's this slutty mouth so perfect?" toji sounds ruined, all rock-salt rasp and his pink lips fall open, and a flush is painted over his tan skin.

you've never been one to give up, ready to angle your head lower, eager to take as much of him as possible into your mouth. but it's a hard stretch, as crystalline tears cling to your lashes, from the tight wrap of the back of your mouth around his throbbing cock.

toji's got his hand wrapped in your hair now, and you can tell that he's trying to be gentle with the strands as he angles your head lower, purring as you take him so well, "f-fuck, a perfect tease, yeah? fuckin' amazing," and you know he's telling the truth, for his cock is practically twitching with a life of its own in your mouth.

you've got this man hazy and drunk, just from sucking you off, and the realisation makes you whine all over again. reaching a hand down in between your thighs to rock up against your clit, all at the same steady pace.

and you know that toji is close, for those sculpted thighs of pure muscle tremble now, the powerful cords quivering as he bucks his hips, fucking your mouth in long, steady strokes. you also realise that you want him to cum, just like this, to have thick white fall from your lips to really seal and sweeten the deal.

but suddenly, you're left popping your lips shut, as toji groans, genuinely groans and shudders, pulling himself out of your mouth with a wet slop!

"don' give me that look, doll," toji chuckles, his chest heaving underneath the sculpted outline of his dark shirt, "can stuff ya' mouth with my cock later, if that's what you want. but 'm really gonna lose it if i'm not in her right now," and he's angling you back to give a loving, gentle pat to your glistening cunt.

rough, calloused hands slide across your bare back with an unexpected gentleness, against the soft curve of your spine as toji presses you into the mattress, so your head is finally resting back against the pillow.

toji's enjoying this, you know that, just from how he's taking your times to pull your thighs apart, sucking in a harsh breath at how your sleek entrance practically winks at him. tugging his hands roughly on his rock-hard cock, all so he can run the fat tip over your clit, making you mewl.

"don't t-tease, toji," you sniffle, feeling the searing tip push up against your clitoral hood, that nerves so stimulated that you're bucking up into him, wanting toji to just put the damn thing in already.

"fuck, doll," toji's taking a small mercy on you, pressing the first inch into your cunt, "i don't 'm the tease here, god knows how long you were jus' jacking off on the other side of the wall. hopin' that i'd come and stuff you like this?"

each inch that's bullying itself into making your head spin, making you wrap arms around his thick neck, just as he presses a soft kiss to the crook of your collarbone, "ya' good, doll? 's not too much for your, hnngh, tight lil' cunt, is it?"

you mewl as he bottoms out, and the stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt before. it's so deliciously big within you, scraping at the inside of your walls, "wan' be on top, toji."

"oh, yeah? lucky that i like ya' this much, givin' me orders and bossin' me around," toji huffs, using thick arms to pull you up instead, flipping you around so he's got you straddling his thighs, split apart so perfectly around his gliding cock.

"mmph, 's much deeper like this, toji," you chase after his lips, running your tongue over the taut, rigid scar that cuts over the right side of his mouth, all while he starts to set a maddening pace, bouncing you like a pretty toy over his cock, swabbing your insides with buttery wads of pre-cum, all sticky and loud in the silence of the night.

"lookin' good, doll," toji's grin can only be described as shark-like, and he's clearly pleased by the echoing squelches from the filthy mess that's dolloped between your groins, the smack of your ass against your thighs, tacky strands sticking to skin.

your chest is pressed against his shirt, and he's so enjoying the view. loves seeing how the swell bounces and hypnotises him, fuck, toji wonders how he's gonna go about the rest of his life away from you and your perfect pussy.

your eyes widen as you glance back, swivelling your head over your shoulder to watch the smacking movement of you against him, at how his thighs hold you up with a steady rhythm, "you're f-fuckin' me really well, toji," and god, he thinks he might just lose it all, then and there. the praise from your dewy lips is rushing straight into his cock, turning his mind to mush as he finds himself on some sort of autopilot.

he needs to cum in you, right now, needs to feel you milk him for all he can give. to stuff your syrupy cunt with mounds of weeping inches, and he's picking up the pace. smacking heavy, laden balls against your skin, so you whine and keen into him.

you're so caught up in the pleasure that you don't even realise toji had said something, words snapping around his teeth as he bounces you over and over, making sure that you ride him good, "w-what?"

"a date, doll," toji groans, smacking your hand away from your clit, just so he can toy with it, faster and faster, "lemme take ya' out properly, what'd ya' say to that, huh?"

"wanna take me o-out?" you all but weep over him, spearheaded on his tip, and raking sharp nails over iron abs, all underneath his tight top, "please, please, t-toji, wanna go out with you! and then," you hiss as he angles himself just right, curved sheath kissing that perfect g-spot deep within you, "and then i wanna do t-this all over again."

it makes toji's hips stutter, "yeah? pretty girl wants me to take her out, parade her around t-town, hah, i can do that. i can do all of that," he's gasping, feeling your tight heat snatch the life out of him. each girthy vein rubbing itself against your tacky cunt, "i can do all of that, and more. jus' lemme show ya', i'll spoil ya' for anyone else. those d-dumb college boys."

and you look at him with such gorgeous, pretty eyes that toji wonders how on earth he's gonna function now, with you so supplanted in his life. on his cock, even. he can taste something faintly sweet and artificial on your tongue, like tangy grape as he sucks on the muscle.

"never wanted a-any of them anyway, jus' you, toji. only you."

toji fushiguro loses his mind, he's cumming and his own orgasm is hitting him so hard that, in the back of his mind, he's concerned at how he's just filling you up. sloppy thrusts slowing down as thick, white translucent spurts paint your insides, right up to where he can see the divot of his tip through your abdomen. where you've taken in him so deep.

"s-shit," toji presses his mouth to yours again, harder, "look what ya' doin' to me, ruining me," and he also feels just a little bad for ruining your sheets, right as your own umpteenth climax for the night hits you, glossy and clear over the black tufts of hair. your pretty mouth pulled open in a wordless cry of his name, but toji doesn't let go. he lets you ride it out, that sticky mess becoming an afterthought for later.

in the hazy glow, toji's eyes wander over the mess of your room. but something else catches his attention, wads of paper flattened by an empty can of soda. he tilts his head, hair falling over his forehead, dampened by sweat. reaching for the paper with his curiosity piqued.

before he can fully read the words, you're suddenly pawing at his arm, practically leaping into him to get in the way, "wait, toji, don't! hey, that's private!" your voice is an odd mix of urgency and embarrassment, nothing like the angelic whimpers from a few minutes ago. you're swatting at his thick hand, trying to grasp at his fingers.

ignoring your protests and squirms, he crumples the paper open and reads the bold, hastily scrawled letters: how to get toji fushiguro in bed.

damn. so you had been responsible for that heater, the staircase, a fake phone call. he always did like them a bit cuckoo-bananas.

toji chuckles darkly, glancing up at you, barely able to suppress a grin. you're flushed, looking like you'd rather disappear into the floor, oddly shy despite the fact that you were so bold, and a minx riding him earlier to hell and back.

"look, i can explain. don't be mad, because i swear —"

toji groans, shifting you slightly in his lap, "mad? doll, 'm hard all over again. how'd you want it this time?"

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #daphworks

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heeliopheelia · 9 months ago

Text

GET HIM BACK! (s. jake)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

includes: making out, skin marking, fingering, unprotected sex, riding, brief hair pulling, choking, slight bulge kink, degrading, praising too, slight exhibitionism, facial, cursing

word count: 3.3k

synopsis: 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪�� 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰

note: i really hated the build up to the one i posted before so i rewrote it as promised... sorry for the confusion guys ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist

“Your parents home?” Jake breaths out the words right into your mouth as he runs his tongue over your bottom lip.

It’s been mere three minutes since you first heard his loud and obnoxious bike speeding down your quiet street. He’s careless and tact-less as always, and for some reason that’s what draws you in even more.

He never keeps you waiting long. He doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s always one foot out the door of wherever he is, always waiting for a single call or text from you. He knows what he wants and is always vocal about it, a go getter type of a man.

So it was expected to have him climb up the low roof of your porch and hear his gloved hand knocking on your window not even ten minutes after you texted him a not so innocent wanna come over?.

As if that was even a question. Of course he wants to come over, wants to see you any chance he can get. He doesn’t need to think for a second to grab his helmet and ride to wherever you are, so needy for him. He’s known you for less than two months – met you at a party and kept hooking up weeks after, and yet here he is, wrapped around your finger, with nothing else in his mind but you.

You’re not much better yourself, dreaming of his beaming face every night that you somehow don’t end up spending with him. You’ve grown attached to him, so attached that the tearing inside your chest becomes more hurtful whenever you’re not with him, day by day he takes a firmer grasp of your feeble heart.

Your hands are grasping onto his worn out t-shirt, kissing him greedily and breathlessly as he giggles into your mouth, pulling you closer and closer into his chest.

“They came back an hour ago,” you answer, raising on your toes to make the angle more comfortable for the both of you.

Slowly, he pulls away and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, then to the other one. “That’s kinda inconvenient, no?” He asks, nosing at your cheek and you close your eyes and nod your head, melting as the leather of his glove brushes against your skin as he lifts your chin up with his fingers.

His warm lips are on yours again, hand pulling your face upward to leave you breathless in a matter of seconds. “Wanna go out with me?” He whispers in your lips. He hums when you shake your head. “No? Jay’s party’s still going. We could go, hm?” He kisses you again even when you shake your head no. “Wanna just stay here?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out quietly, eyes never meeting his.

“Okay, as you wish, baby,” Jake smiles into your lips. “I don’t mind. Anywhere with you is good.”

Before you get the chance to swoon over his words even more, he’s pushing you backwards and against your dresser, putting his helmet down on it before caging you in between his flexing arms. He kisses you dizzy then, angling his face to the side to press and suck on your lips better.

It’s so Jake-like to make you forget about all of your surroundings, to kiss you into oblivion until your lips are swollen and burning. You never complain – why would you when you know you can only have him for this summer, before college starts again and you’ll be out of your hometown for another year. You always take him in, again and again, because you’re scared you’ll wake up from this dream too soon and never see him again. And you can’t let that happen.

This time he pushes his tongue inside your mouth, the warm muscle working against yours. Your hands finally relax from where they’ve been clutching onto his black top so desperately, only to travel up into his hair. You tug on it gently, feeling the slightly sweaty strands underneath your fingertips.

Jake pulls you flush to him, pushes his hips into yours for any type of fraction and groans lowly in his throat when he gets what he’s been craving for for the past hour.

“Couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see me, baby?” He teases, but you’re nodding your head quickly before he even has the chance to finish the sentence. He smiles into your lips as your desperate fingers pull his shirt up and off of him, leaving you pressed to his toned chest.

The two of you messily make your way to your bed, bare of any duvets and blankets as it’s too hot to sleep under any. You fall on top of him and part your lips only to latch onto his neck, tongue lapping over the bite marks you leave afterwards.

Jake chuckles at your feverish suckling onto his skin, never objecting to being marked by you. He tugs on the leather gloves with his teeth, pulling them off and throwing them on the floor, fingers immediately going down to follow your lead and dispose of your top. You’re only wearing underwear underneath the big t-shirt you sleep in and the sight makes Jake’s mouth water. He runs his hands over every inch of your burning skin, impatiently unclasping your bra as you’re still busy with his bruised neck.

You pull away, visibly pleased with yourself, then lift yourself on your arms and smother his swollen lips again. Jake grunts, kissing you almost just as fervently, hands going lower and lower until he grabs a handful of your ass and rolls his hips up into yours.

You let out a whimper at that, an even louder one following when his slim fingers skim over the soaked cotton of your panties.

“You need to be quiet, doll,” he chuckles breathlessly, drowning the sounds you make with his lips when he slips his fingers underneath the fabric and gets a feel of your slick pussy. “I don’t think we would want your parents walking in on us like that, hm?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stumble out, shifting as you’re laying flat on his chest, face buried in his collarbone and eyes fluttering when his moves only grow bolder. You shudder slightly, feeling his long digits teasing your clit with butterfly touches.

“Ease up, pretty girl,” Jake coos, other hand wrapping around your waist to keep you steady when the first of his now soaked fingers slips inside your tight hole. You nuzzle into him further, breath becoming unsteady as you whine quietly. He moves his hand, burying it deeper and skimming it over your walls.

Couple seconds later he adds in the second finger, the heel of his palm pressing to your clit and making you jolt slightly in his firm hold. He strokes inside you slowly, feeling you progressively getting wetter with his every push. You’re panting, hot breath hitting his skin and making his dick twitch in his pants.

He’s plunging his fingers deep inside of you, your walls squeezing him and stretching out his lips with a satisfied smile. You can’t help but buck into the air in the little space that Jake gives you, when he picks up on his pace. His fingers thrust in and out of you, one by one, never losing their rhythm.

Curving his fingers, his knuckles brush against the spongy insides of your hole, making you moan shakily.

“You good?” He asks, the hand on your waist caressing you gently.

You sigh, hands reaching up to squeeze his shoulders. “Yeah,” you whisper because that’s all of your voice that you can muster.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but tease and you can hear the grin that’s plastered on his pink lips. But this time you only respond with a nod of your head.

With your face buried in his skin, hands wrapped around his neck tightly, you know you’re cumming when the warm wave hits your stomach breathlessly. You’re whimpering in his collarbone, really trying your hardest to keep quiet, but with the twitching pleasure spreading through your body, and his hard bulge pressing into your stomach, it’s quite difficult to stay sane.

Jake gives you a second to breathe before removing his dripping fingers and unbuckling his pants with it. He somehow manages to shake out of his jeans while keeping you steady on his chest and you shiver when you can feel his warm cock resting between your bodies now.

“Stay still for me, baby,” he coaxes you before shifting you on his hips.

Next second, you can feel his tip prodding at your sensitive pussy and he glides his cock between your glistening folds, coating it in your slick. He readies you with a squeeze at your waist, and slowly starts sinking his length inside of you.

“Wait, Jake-,” you choke on your words when he buries himself entirely inside of you, stretching you out and making you lose your composure completely. “I’m still s-sensitive,” you mumble out, about to nuzzle your face in his neck when his hands grip your waist.

“Now, up you go,” he says and lifts you up, making you sit on his hips and take in even more of his cock.

You moan rather loudly, sinking your teeth in your bottom lip to stop yourself from spilling any more sounds. Jake slowly rolls his hips up into you, quiet grunts leaving his own mouth as his hands settle on your hips. He starts guiding you up and down carefully until you’ve fully adjusted to him.

He only lets go once you’ve picked up on a steady pace, bracing your hands on his stomach, the feeling of his hardened muscles making your cheeks heat up. The way your pussy spreads around him is making him go crazy, and now and then he realizes that the combination of feeling you topping him and looking so fucking pretty at the same time, is nothing less than lethal.

You’re so soft under his hands, soft around his cock, soft hands pressing on his abs – everything about you is so damn soft. You’re making him feel almost too good. To ground himself, one of his hands goes up to your hair and tugs on it slightly, making you arch your back and show your pretty, glistening with sweat neck.

He grits his teeth when you speed up slightly, eyes misty and sparkling down at him in your dimly lit bedroom. You’re riding him so well, taking his heavy cock with little struggle.

“So good,” he pants out, fingers digging into your ass. “You’re doing so good.”

You can feel your muscles straining whenever you lift yourself up, tired legs making you drop down onto him a little more forcefully than you initially planned but you’re rewarded with his low moan and eyes shutting tightly, long lashes brushing over his cheeks.

The room feels almost too hot, the house is too quiet for the lewd noises coming out of both of you. Your rhythmic bouncing on his aching cock soon changes to messy grinds as your knees give out and thighs burn. Your movements are shallow and visibly weakened, so to help you up, Jake brings his knees higher and roots his heels into your mattress only to thrust up into you, meeting your hips halfway.

You mewl, your legs twitching when he makes your hole take even more of him. He can feel your slick mixed with his precum seeping out and covering his stomach, and he desperately needs more.

Swallowed by the haze, you push your hips backwards and try to meet his thrusts, making his moves stutter and a strangled groan bubbles up his throat.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he says through clenched teeth before grabbing you by your hips and pulling you off of him. Before you get the chance to ask what he is doing, you find yourself with your back slammed to the mattress, and Jake’s hands grabbing your calves and throwing them over his shoulders.

When he enters you again, you feel your eyes rolling back a little but before any sound can make its way out of your throat, Jake’s veiny hand slaps over your mouth as he leans his face closely to yours. Your whimpers are muffled now as he picks up on his previous pace and the now changed position makes your walls clump down on him even fucking tighter.

“Keep it down. We don’t want your mom barging in and seeing her daughter folded in half like a slut, do we?” His words only make you moan louder as your fingers dig into his toned shoulders. At your reaction, Jake’s lips spread with a sly smile as he raises his eyebrow. “Do we?” He asks breathlessly, watching as your eyes glisten in the dark room. “You really wanna get caught? To let somebody see you like that? Naughty, fucking, girl. Well, there you go.”

His hands leave your mouth and settle on your stomach instead. You just can’t predict his moves anymore, too absorbed in the pleasure spreading through your body, so when he pushes onto your stomach and presses you even deeper into the mattress, a loud moan ripples out of your lips. Jake groans too as he can feel himself moving so deep inside you underneath his fingertips. He pushes onto you even harder. Your head rolls backwards until you’re nearly facing the headboard.

It’s quite difficult to breathe and you’re not sure whether it’s from the stifling summer air that’s gotten into your room or the veiny hand that’s suddenly latched onto your throat. His hot cockhead seems to be hitting everywhere where you need it most. Nothing but dumb squeaks leave your parted lips and he thrives off of every single one of them, even deepening his thrusts to hear them grow louder.

His thighs clash into yours loudly and you yelp when he leans even more forward and the one hand that’s currently not on your throat clutches the headboard tightly. You can’t even do anything when the wood starts rattling against your wall.

“You like getting fucked like this? Who would’ve thought,” he hums, grinning down at you with the teasing glimmer in his eyes.

His thrusts are deep, making the tip of his cock kiss your cervix over and over again. The moans you sob out are like a shot of adrenaline in his veins, better than any drug he’s ever tried and suddenly the thought of having you to himself only for the next week crosses his mind. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to breathe without you now that he’s almost sure he’s addicted to you.

He works his length deep inside you. Your vision threatens to turn black and you’re already out of breath when he presses onto your throat a little harder. You send him a half-lidded look and he moves his hand away from your throat to push your sweaty hair away from your forehead because nothing can fucking take the sight of your fucked out face away from him.

Your lips are parted with the ragged breaths leaving them, hands fisting his hair and legs beginning to tremble against his chest.

“So pretty, all for me. All because of me.” You nod thoughtlessly at his words, mind taken over by the feeling of the soon to be approaching high. “So lewd too. Where did your shame go?”

“C- Close,” is all you’re able to say. You can feel every vein on his cock more prominently with every next thrust of his, all of your senses besides touch evaporating. You can’t even hear any more of his dirty words when your climax hits you like a truck, making you let out a loud moan.

Jake wraps one of his arms under your waist and lifts you up slightly, now folding you in half and making your orgasm hit twice as hard. He slows his hips down for a moment to help you ride it out, thrusting his dick with deep strokes.

He’s letting go of you soon enough, quickly forgetting about your sensitive self as he feels the twitching and aching between his legs begin, waiting for his own release. With a groan, Jake braces both of his flexing arms on the headboard and ruts his heavy cock into you feverishly, making you see stars and cry out of overstimulation.

You have to bite on his shoulder to stop the sudden scream from leaving your throat, your whole body ricocheting with his hard thrusts. Your thighs are drenched and so are his, so the skin slapping against skin sounds even louder than before, leaving the backs of your plush upper legs red and stinging.

He loves having you like that, limp because he’s fucked you just that good but body no less responsive to all that he keeps giving you.

“So fucking good,” he repeats himself before abruptly pulling out of your spasming pussy. “Get down here, baby.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you only nod and eagerly pull yourself down on the bed with your wobbly legs. Once you’re lowered enough, Jake angles his swollen cock right above your face and strokes himself quickly, only to couple seconds later cover your face with the thick white ropes of his release. You flinch slightly, closing your eyes as the warm liquid hits your cheeks, lewdly licking everything that’s sputtered over your lips.

“Oh, fuck!” Jake groans, a little pitchier than before, nonetheless just as pretty. You lift your head up from the mattress and swiftly engulf his leaking tip with your lips, milking him until he’s dry. Jake shudders above you and moans, watching you through almost closed eyes as you suck on his softening cock.

You pull away when there’s nothing else to take from him and the doe eyed look you’re giving him makes him weak in the knees. He drops down next to you, brushing your hair away from your cum stained face before giggling and picking up the shirt you’ve thrown on the floor. He gently cleans you up with it, then leans forward to drown you with his lips.

You could kiss him for eternity, be buried with his soft lips on yours. He’s gentler now, pressing his mouth on yours and leaving peck after peck on them.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers suddenly, hazy, nose brushing against yours and making you smile the softest smile at him. “There’s never gonna be anyone else like you, YN.”

And with your heart in your throat, you can only swallow harshly and speak through your clenched throat. “Love you too, Jake.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a moment as you just stay in the moment. Heavy breaths, gentle touches brushing against each other’s bodies and soft voices making promises you most likely won’t be able to keep.

“You won’t forget about me, right?” You whisper quietly, looking up at him with misty eyes as he glazes his thumb over your bottom lip.

He shakes his head immediately, flashing you this charming smile of his you’ve gotten so used to over the past two months.

“How could I?” He’s just as quiet. Then he gently takes your hand in his and presses it to his chest, allowing you to feel the hammering of his heart. “All of this is yours. I’ll wait for you.”

And that’s all you need to hear right now.

The two of you get dressed, giggling and smiling like fools as there’s nothing much left to say. Your hip is leaning on your dresser when he steps closer and kisses you again, sucking on your lips sensually and slowly, procrastinating as long as he can only to not part with you yet.

His gloves are back on his hands, helmet under his arm as he turns back to you and tries one more time, grabbing your smaller hand in his. “Go out with me now?”

You don’t know how you’ll be able to face your parents tomorrow.

You don’t wanna say goodbye to him tonight.

So with a smile on your lips, you nod your head and climb out of the window – hands intertwined together and his helmet safely tucked on your head.

But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends

And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end

taglist: @luvkpop @yannew @hoonxclsvly @jongseongslvr @beomgyusonlywife @starggukies @koizekomi @ineedsomezzz @starl1ghtsinthedark @enhastolemyheart @seokseokjinkim @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @somekpopshiteu97 @enhypens-hoe @alpha-mommy69 @jwnzlvr @wondipity

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#carly's 2k event ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen hard hours #jake imagines #jake x reader #sim jake smut #jake sim hard hours #jake sim x reader #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jake smut #jake sim smut #sim jake x reader #sim jake imagines

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atlabeth · 5 months ago

Text

time’s blur - ialwbty au

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader but this primarily features percy jackson & sister!reader

summary: somehow, someway, you come back.

a/n: wow it has been a while hasn't it!! 148 days to be exact!! im always thinking about these two in the corner of my mind and ive been wanting to write this au since i got an ask about it, originally i was going to do it all as a big long one shot but i just want to get something out lol. and this will give me more freedom to do wte i want with this au instead of just having one big one shot and leaving it. anyways enjoy there is actually some fluff for once but still some emotional damage and there is more to come!! also reader is 19 and percy is 15

wc: 3.5k

warning(s): hurricane dies but she has come back!! told through percy's pov. angst, hurt/comfort, signature percy jackson guilt, but some fluffy sibling moments<3

Percy doesn’t end up in the infirmary at 2:29 in the morning out of instinct, foresight, or any kind of divine ‘chosen one’ intervention.

He ends up in the infirmary at 2:29 in the morning because some Apollo kid was hooking up with an Ares kid on the beach, and they found you.

They found you, not Percy. He didn’t even have a clue until he woke up to Chiron in his cabin.

Percy had had his fair share of rude awakenings over the years, usually because of horrific demigod prophetic dreams, but the expression on Chiron’s face immediately alerted Percy that something was wrong, even through his groggy haze.

“Chiron?” he rasps, and he sits up as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He has to make sure he’s not still dreaming.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Percy,” he says. “But I need you to come with me.”

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Is everyone okay? Is camp okay? Is there an invasion?”

“Nothing so ghastly,” Chiron says. Though his tone is a bit lighter, it still doesn’t ease Percy’s concerns. “But it does concern you.”

“Great,” Percy mumbles, and he pulls himself out of bed. Normally he would have the foresight to change, but a part of him is still worried that Christmas has come early and Kronos has already invaded the city.

So he follows Chiron—with all the sneaking around he’s done since getting to camp, it’s strange to be out this late and not have to worry about being eaten alive—clad in flannel pajama pants, a Yankee’s tee, and Converse he didn’t get the chance to fully lace up.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong,” Percy says, glancing up at him. “Right?”

“Of course,” he nods. “I wouldn’t classify this as something going wrong. Just… rather shocking.”

“Great,” he repeats. “Are you going to tell me?”

Chiron is silent for a moment, and Percy frowns. “Now I’m really worried.”

“I suppose it’s best to rip the bandage off,” Chiron says. He stops right outside the Big House and lets out a sigh. “An hour ago, a girl was found on the beach. She looked as if she’d been washed ashore.”

Percy’s frown deepens. “What? Gods— is she okay?”

“Yes,” Chiron says. “I checked her over for injuries, but she only had some minor bruises. No water in her lungs, somehow.”

“That’s crazy,” he says. “How could someone even wash up here? Even with demigods— don’t we have protections against that?”

“All of this makes me believe there was some… divine intervention,” Chiron says slowly. “Especially with who she is.”

Percy crosses his arms. “You’re making this sound like a huge deal. Who is she?”

“Percy,” Chiron says, soft but firm, “it’s your sister. Somehow, she’s come back to life.”

And for a second, all he can do is stare.

“What?”

“I could never forget her face,” he says. “Or the presence of a child of Poseidon.”

Percy shakes his head. “No, Chiron— if this is a joke, it’s not funny.” He huffs a mirthless laugh and looks down at his hands. “And if this is a shitty dream, then it’s really shitty.”

“Perseus, this is real,” he states.

He’s still shaking his head. “How can it be real? She’s dead— she’s been dead for years.”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Mr. D has already gone back to Olympus to figure it out. But if I had to guess, your father decided to meddle.”

He wants to call it a lie. Honestly, he wants to punch Chiron for getting his hopes up about something like this. But deep down, Percy knows he’s telling the truth.

“Can I see her?” he asks. “Is— is she okay? Does she know who she is?”

“In time,” Chiron says. “I cannot be sure, but it doesn’t look like she remembers anything from her life.”

Percy shakes his head again. It doesn’t feel real. He’s imagined what it would feel like to meet you since the moment Luke told him about you, but he knew it could never happen.

But now, all that stands between Percy and his sister is a few doors.

“I want to see her,” he says.

“Of course,” Chiron nods. “I just need to make sure it won’t mess with her further. This isn’t like Thalia coming back with the fleece—though I have suspicions, I can’t be sure how this happened. It could be a very delicate matter.”

“As long as it doesn’t hurt her more.”

Chiron nods again and he opens the door to the Big House. He follows him up to his office door, then stops when Chiron gestures at the couch.

“I just need to discuss a few more things with her.”

Percy nods wordlessly and sits down, then Chiron disappears into his office.

A million things are running through Percy’s mind, namely guilt.

Shouldn’t he have been the one to find you?

Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but it’s you.

You’re his sister. He’s always had a connection to you, even when you were gone—gods, the night after he found out you existed you appeared in his dreams. Percy’s spent almost every moment since he found out about you wishing you were still here, that he could meet you, and when it finally does happen—somehow, because he still doesn’t understand what the fuck went on for this to happen—he’s not even the one to find you? He’s just asleep like every other night?

He huffs a sigh as he hunches over, his forearms on his knees. His leg bounces up and down at a rapid pace, moving his entire body with it, but this is one time he can’t lay his ADHD to rest. He’s more surprised he isn’t up pacing the entire room for the hundredth time.

If Percy feels like this, he can’t even imagine how you must feel. To come back for seemingly no reason with no memories, after four years in Elysium.

Luke said you’d been killed by a monster. You were buried like any other person.

You were gone.

But you just… came back.

He lets out another harried sigh and falls back against the couch. He’s exhausted, but there’s no chance of him being able to go back to sleep. Not with you around.

Suddenly, the door opens, and Percy instantly darts up from his seat. You walk out with Chiron and it’s almost surreal.

You look like all the pictures, all his dreams, just older—more mature. He wants to cry and scream and hug you all at once.

Your eyes widen slightly, and you glance at Chiron for a moment before you focus back on Percy.

“Uh— sorry,” he says, wincing a bit. He doesn’t know how to act around you, not when he knows you but you don’t know him. “I waited for you. I thought it would be good to have someone on the other side.”

“That’s really nice,” you murmur. “I… I see why. Word on the street is that you’re my brother.”

Percy nods way too many times. “Yeah. Uh— yeah. We’re both children of—”

He pauses, his gaze moving past you to Chiron. He has to have explained all this to you, right?

“Poseidon,” you finish, and you let out a slightly shaky laugh. “Chiron laid out all the basics.”

“This has all got to be really confusing,” he says. “I remember how lost I was when I first got to camp, and I didn’t even…”

“Die?” you ask wryly. He nods again. He really can’t finish any sentence around you—he’s so worried of saying the wrong thing and accidentally hurting you. Percy doesn’t know how any of this works.

“It’s strange,” you admit. “I… I lived this whole life before this, and I don’t even remember any of it.”

Percy’s heart clenches painfully. He doesn’t know how he’s going to explain everything to you when you start remembering.

When you start remembering Luke.

“Really?” he asks. “There’s nothing?”

You shake your head. “I have my name, but that’s all. And…”

Percy frowns. “What?”

You pause for a moment before you shake your head again. “Nothing. This is just…”

“Weird?”

You nod with a slight laugh. “Yeah. To say the least.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’re not the first person to come back to life,” Percy says. “Uh, a girl named Thalia used to be a tree before she was turned back into a human.”

You frown. “Wow.”

“We can get to all of that some other day,” Chiron thankfully interrupts. “Percy, will you take her back to your cabin?”

“You’re sure we won’t get eaten by the harpies?” Percy asks. “Aello is out for my blood.”

“I promise,” Chiron says. He glances at you, your frown noticeably deeper, and he looks back at Percy. “Perhaps we should, ah, hold off on this sort of discussion. Until tomorrow, at least.”

“Of course,” Percy says. “Sorry. You must be exhausted.”

“A little,” you admit. “Apparently coming back to life takes it out of you.”

“Come back here first thing in the morning,” Chiron says. “We have… quite a bit to talk about.”

“That’s an understatement,” you murmur.

Percy smiles a bit, and he gestures with his head for you to follow him. You do, and Chiron goes back into his office. He nabs a bag of ambrosia squares from an empty bedside as the two of you go through the infirmary just to be safe, and when he glances back at you he sees you frowning.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Does anything hurt?”

“You’re a Yankees fan?” you say instead.

Percy blinks, then he realizes you’re looking at his shirt. “Uh— yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m from New York, and my mom loves them, so…” he tugs at his shirt. “I know you like the Red Sox. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “We can’t all be perfect.”

Percy can’t help but smile. You died and came back to life, and you remember nothing but your name and your love for the Boston Red Sox.

“That means you keep up with baseball, right?”

“When I can,” he says. “We don’t really have technology out here.”

“Have the Red Sox won a world series since I’ve been gone?”

“They won last year, actually.”

Your eyes widen and you instantly grin. “Really?”

He nods. “They beat the Cardinals.”

“That— that’s huge!” you exclaim. “Oh my god, they broke the curse and I didn’t get to see it? This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

“You know you died, right?”

“And look how well that worked out for me.” You shake your head. “I need to go to the library or something and find some footage.”

“As much as I would love to do that,” Percy says, “we have a few other things we have to focus on.”

You huff and shake your head. “Fine. But as soon as we figure all this out, I’m figuring out some way to see those games.”

Percy chuckles. “I don’t think anyone’ll deny you that.”

“Good.”

Silence settles over the two of you as you walk back to the Poseidon cabin, and Percy just feels awkward.

He always thought about what he would say to you if he finally got to see you again, and now you’re alive somehow and right next to him and he has no idea what to do.

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Percy finally decides on. “Chiron said you just washed up on shore.”

“I feel surprisingly okay,” you say. “All I remember is waking up at the bottom of the lake. I thought I was going to drown, so I kicked my way up, and then got to shore.” You shake your head. “Somehow, I didn’t drown. My clothes weren’t even wet. I’ve got to be the luckiest person out there.”

“You’re a child of Poseidon,” he says. “We can breathe underwater so we can’t drown, and our clothes don’t get wet unless we want them to.”

“Like I said,” you incline your head, “luckiest person out there.”

“I just don’t get why you’re back,” Percy says. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are. I just don’t understand how, or why— or why now.”

You open your mouth to say something, but you’re not able to get any words out before a yawn interrupts it.

“Maybe that’s a tomorrow problem,” you say.

“I think you’re right,” Percy says. He opens the door to the camp store and you follow him inside, but you frown.

“What is this?”

“The camp store,” he says. “You don’t really have anything, so I wanted to get you some things.”

You just stare as he starts taking things. “You’re just… stealing?”

“Just a couple toiletries and some clothing,” he says. “They won’t miss it.” He stashes it all in a Camp Halfblood tote bag and holds it out to you, and though you’re a bit hesitant, you still take it.

“Thanks,” you say. “We won’t get in trouble?”

“I think everyone will cut you some slack for a while,” Percy says. “A guy did this for me my first day and it helps—makes you feel more at home.”

You hum, and this time you open the door for Percy. “Nice guy.”

Percy swallows the sudden lump in his throat, trying to ignore the chill that trickles down his spine as he realizes the implications of his words.

“Yeah,” Percy mutters. “He was.”

Eventually, the two of you get back to the Poseidon cabin. He opens the door for you and you slowly walk inside.

Again, it’s strange that you’re here. It’s like if a piece of his history textbook suddenly came to life and started walking around—he’s heard so much about you, imagined what he thought would be an impossible meeting so many times, but now that it’s actually happening he doesn’t know what to do.

And it hits even more as you walk over to a picture of yourself hanging on the wall, surrounded by a myriad of others.

It’s one of many of you and Luke, him holding you close with an arm slung around your shoulder as you beam at the camera with the brightest smile imaginable. Before Luke got his scar, before you died, before he went off the deep end.

“I put a couple of your pictures up,” Percy rushes to explain, his throat feeling scratchy, “and a few of your old things. As— as a way to remember you.”

“I love it,” you say, and the tension dissolves in his shoulders when he sees your smile. It really is so much brighter in person. “I— I can’t believe I don’t remember any of this.”

“We’ll figure out a way to get it back,” Percy says. “I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say idly as you continue to take all the pictures in. He can’t imagine what it must feel like to see all these memories of a past life you have no recollection of.

“I don’t,” he says. “We’re gonna figure it out.”

You’re silent for a while as you keep looking at them. Then you take one of the pictures off the wall, the one of you and Luke at a baseball game.

“Luke,” you murmur, as if you don’t realize you’re saying it out loud. You blink, then you turn to Percy. “His name is Luke, isn’t it?”

He nods, almost in disbelief. You don’t remember a damn thing about your old life but you know Luke’s name.

How is Percy supposed to tell you what he did?

You laugh softly as you trail your nail over the edge. “We must’ve been pretty close if I got him to go to a Red Sox game.” You look over at Percy. “Does he go here too?”

After a moment, Percy shakes his head. “He— uh, he used to.”

“Makes sense,” you murmur, and you put the picture back on the wall. “I got the easy way out. Everyone else had to deal with the fallout.”

Percy frowns. “You were killed by a monster. I don’t think anyone considers that the easy way out.”

“It kinda was,” you say with a shrug. “I— I don’t remember much about it, but Chiron said I was in Elysium. There aren’t any monsters down there, and there certainly aren’t any responsibilities.”

“Well,” Percy sits down on his bed, “I’m glad you’re here. You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined meeting you.”

You chuckle. “I didn’t know I was so popular.”

“I’m serious,” he says. “Poseidon is one of the Big Three, and they made an oath not to have kids. I was the only Big Three kid in general when I got to camp—when I found out about you, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to have a sister to talk about all of this with.”

Your eyes soften, and you lean against his bed frame. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?”

“I— I don’t know,” you say with a slight laugh. “I just feel bad that I couldn’t be there for you.”

“You’re already doing a pretty good job at being a big sister,” Percy says wryly.

“Thanks,” you say. “You’re doing a pretty good job at being a younger brother.”

Percy laughs and smiles, and you smile too. He’s beginning to understand what Luke always said, about your presence embodying warmth. He’s only been around you for a few minutes and he already feels better.

“I’ve never had a brother before this,” you say. “So there might be a couple speed bumps.”

“We’ll get through them together,” Percy says. “Besides, I… I kind of always considered you my sister. Ever since I found out about you, even though you were…”

“Dead?” you guess, and he winces. You chuckle a bit. “It’s still weird for me, too. Can’t imagine what it must be like for all of you.”

“Weird,” he says without really thinking. “Really weird. But I’m thankful that you’re back.”

You smile. “So am I, Percy.”

You let out another yawn, and you sit down on the bed across from him. “God, what time is it?”

Percy glances at the clock in the corner. “3:34.”

You whistle. “I really chose a great time to come back, huh?”

He chuckles, and he kicks off his shoes as gets up to turn the lights off. “I think some sleep would do us both some good.”

You nod and do the same. As you lay back, one hand behind your head, you continue to look around the cabin.

“Are these your band posters?”

He shakes his head as he sits back down. “They’re yours, actually, but you’ve got good taste. I love Pearl Jam.”

“I used to have good taste, you mean,” you say wryly.

“Hey,” he says. “I meant what I told you. We’re gonna get your memories back.”

“How are you so sure?”

“I’ve done a lot of impossible things,” Percy says. “And so have you, from what I’ve heard. It’s kind of the Poseidon kid way, honestly.”

“You’ll have to teach me some things, then.”

“And when you get your memory back, you’ll have to do the same,” he says.

You smile and nod. “Deal.”

Percy smiles too, and he lays down. “You really should try and get some sleep. Chiron wasn’t joking when he said we have a lot to talk about.” He huffs a slight laugh. “Whatever the reason is for you coming back, I guarantee there’s gonna be some people upstairs that are mad about it.”

Your eyebrows rise. “Upstairs?”

“Olympus,” he says. “The gods don’t really like things happening out of their control.”

You hum, and for a moment there’s nothing but silence and the sound of both your breathing. It’s a little strange having someone else here other than Tyson, but he’s thankful for it.

“What’s gonna happen to me?” you ask. There’s an edge of fear in your voice, and Percy frowns.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Nothing is going to happen,” he repeats. “I’m not going to let anything happen. The gods have already messed with your life enough—they don’t get to do it again.”

Percy half-expects to hear the sound of thunder echoing across camp, but the silence continues. Maybe Zeus isn’t listening in on him for once, or maybe he just expects the disrespect at this point.

“I really am the luckiest person,” you say. “I’ve got someone like you looking out for me.”

“You were looking out for me when you were gone,” he says. “You might not remember, but I could feel it. So I’m just repaying the favor.”

Again, silence. It’s temporarily interrupted by the sound of sheets shifting, then you speak.

“I’m really glad I got to meet you, Percy,” you murmur.

He can’t help but smile, and he tries to ignore the tears beginning to spring in his eyes. He has no idea why you’re back—no idea what this could mean. Maybe your dad did bring you back, maybe it’s a bizarre case like Thalia, maybe you play a part in something that they don’t even know about yet and it's nothing but bad news.

But for once in his life, Percy’s not going to question it.

You’re alive and you’re here.

For now, that’s all he needs.

“Me too,” he whispers.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #daughter of poseidon #child of poseidon #sadie writes

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hottiesforhockey · 2 months ago

Text

ho, ho, hoe ⎜m.barzal

🎄pairings: mat barzal x afab!reader 🎄genre: romance ⎜christmas special ⎜smut ⎜friends to lovers⎜ 🎄warnings: mat is in love and not great at hiding it ⎜alcohol consumption ⎜ drunk sex ⎜missionary ⎜p in v⎜pretty vanilla overall ⎜ marking/hickeys⎜ just a dude in love ⎜awkward love confessions ⎜very minimal smut tbh ⎜ 🎄synopsis: an accidental christmas hook up, becomes so much more when your hoe of a best friend catches feelings. 🎄word count: 5.2k 🎄authors note: this is my first of several christmas fics - there will not be a part 2 but I hope you all enjoy!! christmas fic list

(unedited)

“Come on, you promised,” Mat said, his voice teasing as he nudged you out of the car. “It’s one party. You’ll survive.”

You glared at him, tightening your coat against the icy December air. “You ambushed me. I never said yes.”

“Details.” His smirk deepened, and you hated how easily it chipped away at your resolve. “Besides, you’ve been sulking at home for two weeks. Consider this an intervention. No one should be this much of a Grinch in December.”

It was impossible to argue with Mat Barzal. You’d learned that years ago. He had a way of wrapping his words in charm and layering them with just enough humour to get his way. It didn’t help that his ridiculous good looks made you forget you were supposed to be mad at him.

Mat was your best friend—the kind of friend who’d been there through every bad breakup, every celebration, every boring Tuesday night when all you needed was a movie marathon and pizza. He was also, as you liked to call him, a professional-grade hoe. Always flirting, always texting someone new, always shamelessly charming his way into trouble.

So, of course, it was Mat who had dragged you to this Christmas party. And of course, he’d conveniently forgotten to mention that the guest list included a suspicious number of his teammates, their dates, and not many people you actually knew.

You tugged your itchy sweater down and shot him a glare. “If this is your idea of a fun Friday night, I’m starting to question our friendship.”

“You’ll thank me later.” He slung an arm over your shoulder, steering you toward the door. “Trust me, you’re gonna have a great time.”

What Mat didn’t say—and wouldn’t dare admit—was that he’d spent weeks working up the nerve to do this. To spend more time with you outside the cozy bubble of friendship. To finally figure out if the feelings he’d been burying for years were one-sided or if maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way.

But Mat was a coward when it came to you. A hoe, sure. But only because it was easier to flirt with strangers than risk what you had.

Inside, the party was in full swing. Twinkling lights strung across the room, the faint scent of pine and cider in the air, and a playlist that was just loud enough to drown out awkward small talk.

Mat stayed close, his hand brushing yours as you made your way through the crowd. He didn’t miss the way you wrinkled your nose at the chaos, and his grin softened. “Alright, Scrooge. Let’s get you a drink.”

You let him pull you toward the kitchen, rolling your eyes. “I don’t know why you’re so insistent on dragging me out like this. Don’t you have ten other girls you could be charming right now?”

His smirk faltered for just a moment, so brief you almost missed it. “Maybe I like spending time with you.”

The words hung between you, light but heavy, before he quickly added, “Besides, no one else would put up with your terrible attitude about Christmas.” You laughed, and Mat felt the tension ease, though the knot in his chest didn’t loosen.

One day, he thought.

One day he’d tell you the truth.

The kitchen was quieter than the rest of the party, the hum of conversation and Christmas music muffled by the thick walls. Mat handed you a cup of something that smelled strongly of peppermint schnapps and took a long sip of his own.

“This is terrible,” you said after a cautious taste, wrinkling your nose.

Mat grinned. “It’s festive.”

“It tastes like someone melted a candy cane into rubbing alcohol.”

“Exactly.” He raised his cup in a mock toast. “Happy holidays.”

You clinked cups with him, rolling your eyes. Typical Mat—always the life of the party, always ready with a sarcastic comment or a sly grin to keep you on your toes. You couldn’t help but smile as he leaned back against the counter, his dark hair slightly messy and his cheeks already flushed from the heat of the room.

“So,” he said, tilting his head toward you. “Having fun yet?”

“I’ll let you know when it starts.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar, and you couldn’t help but join in. It was easy to relax around Mat, even in a setting where you felt like a complete outsider.

As the night wore on, the two of you lingered in the kitchen, your drinks steadily disappearing. Mat’s stories became a little louder, his laugh a little freer, and you felt yourself loosening up too.

“Remember that time we tried to make cookies in my apartment?” he asked, his voice slightly slurred.

“How could I forget?” You grinned, leaning against the counter beside him. “You set the oven on fire.”

“It wasn’t a fire,” he protested, gesturing with his cup. “It was a… controlled open flame.”

“Your neighbours didn’t think so.”

“Yeah, well, they hated me anyway.” Mat chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But you stayed. Even when I ruined the cookies.”

“You had alcohol,” you said simply, and he laughed again, shaking his head.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice softening. “You’re always there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, but before you could respond, he downed the rest of his drink and changed the subject.

“Okay, real talk,” he said, setting his empty cup on the counter. “What’s your deal with Christmas? Why do you hate it so much?”

“I don’t hate it,” you said defensively. “I just think it’s… overrated.”

“Overrated?” He looked at you like you’d just insulted his entire family. “You’re breaking my heart over here.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s fine. It’s just not my thing.”

“Maybe you’ve been doing it wrong,” he said, his grin lopsided. “You should let me show you how it’s done.”

“And how’s that?”

“For starters…” He reached over, tugging gently at the sleeve of your overused christmas sweater. “This thing has got to go. You look like a rejected elf.”

“Excuse me?” You stared at him, mock-offended, and he burst out laughing.

“I’m kidding! Mostly.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping slightly. “You’re the only person I know who can make something that ugly look good.”

The comment sent a flutter through your chest, but you brushed it off as just another one of Mat’s usual flirtatious remarks. He was always saying things like that—half-joking, half-serious—and you’d learned not to read too much into them.

Still, as the drinks kept flowing and the night wore on, Mat’s comments started to feel… different. Softer. More pointed.

“You know,” he said at one point, “sometimes I think you don’t see yourself the way everyone else does.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, his gaze fixed on his cup. “Just that you’re… you know. Amazing. Like, actually amazing. And you don’t even realise it.”

You laughed nervously, unsure how to respond. “Okay, you’re definitely drunk.”

“Tipsy, maybe,” he admitted, a crooked grin on his face. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” Before you could press him further, someone burst into the kitchen, dragging Mat into a conversation about hockey and leaving you standing there, your mind buzzing as much from his words as from the alcohol.

As the night wound down, you found yourself back where you started—leaning against the counter, your cup nearly empty, with Mat by your side. The party had thinned out, voices from the living room fading into a low hum.

He was quieter now, his usual spark mellowed by the weight of the night and whatever thoughts had been lingering behind his lopsided smile.

“You’re staring,” you teased, breaking the silence.

“Am I?” His lips quirked up, but he didn’t look away. “Maybe I’ve just got a lot to think about.”

“You need a brain for that” You hoped your voice sounded steadier than you felt.

He hesitated, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the countertop. “Like how you’re still here,” he said finally. “When you could’ve bailed hours ago. But you didn’t.”

“Maybe I’m a sucker for bad holiday parties,” you joked, but the warmth in his gaze made your chest tighten.

“Or maybe,” he said, stepping just a little closer, “you like spending time with me as much as I like spending time with you.”

It was the kind of thing he’d say all the time, casual and easy, except now there was something behind it. Something that made the air between you feel heavier. Charged.

Maybe it was the alcohol?

Or maybe it was something you had been feeling all night - a shift.

“Mat,” you began, but the words caught in your throat when his hand brushed against yours, tentative and testing.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice low and serious now. “And I will.”

You didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Instead, you closed the space between you, your fingers curling around the front of his shirt to pull him down into a kiss. It wasn’t careful or calculated—just instinct, like you’d been waiting for this moment longer than you cared to admit.

His arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, and for once, the rest of the world didn’t matter. Not the bad music, not the overplayed holiday cheer, not even the fact that anyone could walk in at any second.

“Guess the party’s starting now,” he said breathlessly when you finally broke apart, his forehead resting against yours.

“Shut up,” you muttered, laughing as you pulled him back in.

Mat’s laugh rumbled softly against your lips before his hands shifted at your waist, pulling you even closer. The kiss slowed, turning into something softer, sweeter, but no less intense. His fingers traced light patterns along the curve of your back, and you found yourself melting into his touch, the rest of the room falling away entirely.

When the sound of voices drifted closer—someone coming down the hallway, loud and unsteady—you both broke apart, the spell momentarily shattered. Mat took a step back, his eyes lingering on yours, a sheepish grin playing on his lips.

“Guess we’ve got an audience incoming,” he said, nodding toward the approaching voices.

“Probably shouldn’t give them a show,” you replied, your cheeks burning. Your hands dropping to straighten out your sweater, your cheeks burning a bright red as you turn away from your friend - taking a few sobering breaths. You turn back to Mat slowly, your eyebrows lifting as you find him already staring at your, his cheeks burning as much as yours.

“I don’t think I’m finished with tonight.” He says slowly - adding, “but I’m definitely done with this party.” His Adams apple bobbing as he watches your mind turn a hundred miles an hour.

“Oh, well there’s a bar down the street thats usually open late.” You note, Mat’s brows furrowing as he shakes his head.

“That’s not—,” Mat lets out a soft sigh, his smile soft on his face as he spits out, “I’m trying to ask you to come home with me.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and electric, like a string pulled taut. You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly, or if the adrenaline coursing through your veins was playing tricks on you.

“Home,” you repeated slowly, testing the word on your tongue. Your voice came out softer than you intended, barely audible over the distant thrum of the party.

Mat nodded, his gaze steady but vulnerable, like he was bracing himself for the answer. “Yeah. With me.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, each beat reverberating in your ears. The room around you blurred—the noise, the decorations, the faint smell of spiked cider—and all you could focus on was the way his thumb brushed against his palm, the slight twitch of his jaw as he waited.

This wasn’t like him. Mat, the always-casual, too-cool-to-be-flustered Mat, was standing in front of you looking like his world might tilt depending on your response.

You took a breath, your pulse skipping as you leaned in just enough that your words were for him alone. “Okay,” you whispered, the weight of the decision melting into something exhilarating as you saw his grin break through.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice quieter now, carrying an edge of disbelief, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah.”

His hand found yours again, this time with more certainty, fingers lacing through yours as he gave a gentle tug. “Let’s get out of here before someone stops us.”

You followed without hesitation, weaving through the scattered crowd, ignoring the knowing glances and side comments. The cool night air hit your face the moment you stepped outside, sharp and refreshing compared to the stuffy warmth of the party. Mat didn’t let go of your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

And as he led you down the street, your hand still in his, you felt something settle in you, a kind of rightness you hadn’t expected and couldn’t deny.

The walk to Mat's place was quiet but charged, every step a wordless conversation. The city hummed around you—car engines purring in the distance, the occasional laughter spilling from a bar’s open door—but it all felt like background noise. The real energy was in the small, subtle touches: the way his fingers tightened around yours when your hands brushed, or the way he glanced at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

When you reached his building, Mat paused at the door, his free hand fishing out his keys. He hesitated, looking at you with a crooked smile, his breath visible in the cool air. “Last chance to back out,” he teased, but there was an edge of seriousness in his tone.

You rolled your eyes playfully, though your heart skipped. “Mat, if you don’t open that door in the next five seconds…”

His laugh was soft, barely louder than the jingle of the keys as he unlocked the door. “Alright, alright,” he said, pushing it open and holding it for you. “Come on in.”

The warmth of the lobby hit you immediately, a stark contrast to the chill outside. The building smelled faintly of pine—probably some festive candle someone had left at the front desk—and you followed him to the elevator, the silence between you comfortable now.

Inside the elevator, the closeness felt different. More intimate. The quiet hum of the machinery filled the space, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat. You caught Mat glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, his lips twitching like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Instead, his thumb resumed its soft pattern against your hand, grounding you.

When the doors slid open, Mat led you down the hallway to his apartment. The tension built with each step, your stomach doing little flips as you reached his door. He unlocked it smoothly, gesturing for you to step inside first.

His place was exactly what you’d imagined—warm, lived-in, and distinctly him. The couch had a throw blanket draped messily over one arm, and a few mismatched mugs were scattered on the coffee table. String lights twinkled softly along the windows, their golden glow casting cozy shadows across the room.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said, scratching the back of his neck as he shut the door behind you.

“It’s not messy,” you replied, taking it all in. It was charming, actually, and it felt... safe. “It’s nice.”

Mat exhaled a laugh, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he stepped closer, the space between you narrowing again. He reached out tentatively, his hand brushing your arm before sliding down to your hand.

“Still sure?” he asked, his voice quieter now, laced with something vulnerable.

You nodded, your fingers curling around his. “Still sure.”

That was all he needed. Mat pulled you in gently, his other hand finding your waist as his lips met yours. This time, there was no hesitation—no second-guessing. It was slower than before, but somehow even more consuming, like he was trying to memorise the feel of you, the way you fit against him.

One of mats hands reach up, tugging slowly on your hair scrunchie pulling it from the bun, letting your hair fall loose, his fingers playing with the strands as he leads you to his bedroom, his mouth never leaving yours as your arms loop around his neck. Mat’s lips make his way down your neck - pressing soft kisses as he tugs on the hem of your sweater, his lips only leaving your skin as he pulls the thick fabric over your head, his eyes immediately dropping down to your bra.

“I’m about to fucking combust.” Mat groans, the two of you falling onto his mattress, your head buried among the pillows as Mat sits up on his knees, taking in the sight of you as he rips his own soft hoodie over his head, his hands reaching out for the button on your jeans.

“God, you’re stunning.” Mat coos, as he slides your jeans down your legs, throwing them off to the side as he smoothes his hands down your body, his hands stopping at your knees as he pushes them apart, his body slotting slowly between them as he leans down to reattach his lips to your jaw - sucking harshly against the soft skin, a soft whine escaping you the blood rushing to the surface as an obvious bruise starts to form.

“Perfect.” He whispers, against your neck as he picks a new spot and sucks again.

“Mat.” You hiss, as his hand slowly dips in the waistband of your underwear, gently teasing your clit, his teeth skimming the skin on your neck as he pulls away. “If you don’t put your dick in me right now I swear to god.” You continue, your nails digging into his shoulders as he dips an experimental finger inside of you.

Mat doesn’t need to be told twice as he makes quick work of his own pants, his cock painfully hard as it leaks with premium - his body leaning over your as he rifles through his bed side table. “Wrap it before you tap it.” He jokes, your hands pulling your own underwear down your legs, throwing them off to the side as you take in Mat.

“Don’t ruin the moment.” You sigh, but your smile betrays your serious tone. You always knew the hockey player had a good body - his fitness levels beyond the average person, but seeing his stone cut figure was about to make you drool - your hands reaching out for him as he rolls the condom on his dick.

“Tell me if you need me to stop.” He whispers as he crawls back on top of you, his body slipping perfectly between your legs, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your cheek as he lines himself up. His head dropping into the crook of your neck as he pushes in, his movements slow and purposeful as he lets you adjust with each inch. “Is this okay?” He whispers into your hair, his hips moving excruciatingly slow as he pumps himself in and out.

He smiles as you nod, your lip trapped between your teeth as you let out a soft whimper, his hands placed on either side of your head as his movements speed up a little. “My pretty little pillow princess.” Mat coos, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair as the sound of skin on skin fills the room.

“Fuck Mat.” You hiss as his pelvis brushes against yours, your cunt clenching around him - his hips stuttering as he lets out a low groan.

“I’m close.” He hisses, your head nodding in agreement as your nails drag up his back tangling in soft hair, tugging lightly.

“I need more.” You breath out, Mat eye brows furrowing as he lifts himself up slightly, lifting a hand off the mattress, his fingers dipping between your body as he teases your clit softly.

“Shit.” He grunt as you squeeze around him again, his orgasm being pulled from him as he bottoms out inside of you, his fingers still working on your clit until he feels you clench tighter around him, a long whine escaping you as you cum. Mat’s body falls against yours, the two of your breathing heavily as your fingers continue to scrape against his scalp, a please sigh leaving him as his body melts on top of yours.

“Mat, I need to go to the bathroom.” You mumble, your eyes almost forcing themself closed as the heat radiating from your best friend tries to lull you to sleep. Mat lets out a grunt, lifting himself up just enough to capture your lips with his, his mouth spreading into a wide grin as he rolls off of you, discarding the condom as he lies on his back.

“There should be your favourite stuff under the counter if you need it.” He says softly, his eyes already closing, “Come back to me quickly.” He adds, his arm thrown over his eye as his breathing evens out.

You watch him for a few moments before dashing into his bathroom, facing the mirror as you take in your nest of hair and your flushed cheeks. “What the fuck did I do?” You sneer at your reflection, the bright red bruises on your neck sticking out like a sore thumb. You turn on the tap, using the cold water against your face before cleaning yourself up as quickly as possible, your frown deepening as you step out of the bathroom, Mat fast asleep in the bed, his body turned towards the empty space besides him.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you make your way over to the bed, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against his temple before pulling your clothes back on as escaping your best friends house.

Three days passed quickly - your phone constantly dinging with a barrage of messages from Mat. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Your phone sat face down on the counter, Mat's unread messages and missed calls an ever-growing weight on your chest. You didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t know how to face him after what had happened.

Every time you closed your eyes, you could feel his hands on you, his lips against yours. The memory of his soft laugh, the way he had asked you to come back to him—it all made your heart ache.

You fucked your best friend.

And then you ditched.

What if this ruined everything?

What if he regretted it?

You finally pick up your phone, glaring down at the messages waiting for you;

Matty ♥️: Hey, just wanted to check in, is everything okay?

Matty ♥️: I know this might’ve made things awkward but maybe we should meet up and talk?

Matty ♥️: I know you’re reading these, please answer me.

Matty ♥️: I miss you.

Fuck.

Mat was - rightfully - going out of his mind.

He hadn’t heard a word from you—no texts, no calls. You were ignoring him, and it was eating him alive. Every time his phone buzzed, he scrambled for it, only to find some pointless notification or a message from someone who wasn’t you.

He couldn't get the memory of your touch, your laugh, or the way you had whispered that quiet "I'm sorry" as you left his place. That had stuck with him, playing over and over in his head.

What were you sorry for?

Leaving?

Crossing the line between friends?

Or something more?

Matty ♥️: I miss you.

His most recent text. He’d sent it hours ago.

No response.

Again.

“God, what did I do?” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. You had been his best friend for years. He knew you inside out—or at least, he thought he did. But now, it was like there was this wall between you, and he hated it.

Mat stared at his phone, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. His apartment felt suffocating, every quiet moment filled with the phantom echoes of your laughter or the soft murmur of your voice. He could still see you everywhere—in the hoodie you had borrowed and never returned, in the stupid inside jokes you’d scribbled on his fridge, in the way his couch smelled faintly like your perfume.

The silence was driving him insane.

He stood up abruptly, pacing the length of the room. “Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair. He didn’t even hesitate as he shoved his keys into his pocket and stepped out the door.

The drive to your place was short but felt agonisingly long. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his mind racing with every possibility.

What if you didn’t want to see him?

What if this was it?

What if you hated him for what happened?

But he couldn’t sit around wondering anymore.

He needed to see you, to talk to you, to fix this—whatever this was now.

When he finally pulled up outside your building, the glow of your apartment light felt like both a taunt and a lifeline. He killed the engine and sat there for a moment, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat.

What was he even going to say? Hey, sorry I ruined everything, but also, I think I might love you? That sounded pathetic, even in his head.

But before he could second-guess himself, he was out of the car and heading toward your door. His knuckles rapped against the wood before he even realised what he was doing.

Inside, you froze. The sound of his knock sent a jolt of electricity through you. You hadn’t expected him to come here—not after how you had ghosted him. Your stomach twisted with guilt and something you couldn’t quite name.

“Hey, it’s me,” his voice came through the door, quieter than you’d ever heard him sound. “I—I know I should’ve waited for you to reach out, but... I can’t. I need to talk to you.” Your heart clenched. Part of you wanted to pretend you weren’t home, to let the silence stretch on. But the other part—the part that missed him so much it hurt—had already pulled you to the door.

You hesitated, your hand hovering over the doorknob. “Mat...” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll leave if you want me to,” he said quickly, his words spilling out like a flood. “But please—just tell me what’s going on. I’m going crazy over here.”

You bit your lip, a lump rising in your throat. The wall you’d been trying so hard to build was crumbling, and you didn’t know how to stop it. Slowly, you unlocked the door and opened it, just enough to see him standing there, his expression a mix of hope and heartbreak.

The sight of him made your chest tighten. “Mat...” you said again, your voice trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, taking a small step closer. “For whatever I did, for whatever I said that made you leave. But you—you can’t just disappear on me like this. I need to know if we’re okay.”

And there it was. The question you had been avoiding. The answer you weren’t sure you even had.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, everything else fell away.

“Are we?” you asked softly, your voice breaking on the words.

His brow furrowed, his gaze searching yours. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “But I want us to be.”

And just like that, the ache in your chest spilled over, and the tears you’d been holding back finally came.

Mat’s expression softened immediately at the sight of your tears. His hand twitched like he wanted to reach for you, but he held back, unsure if you’d let him. Instead, he just stood there, the weight of your silence filling the small space between you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the emotion. “I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to...” You trailed off, shaking your head as more tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer, his hesitation melting away. “You don’t have to apologise. I just—I’ve been losing my mind not knowing what you’re thinking. If I pushed you too far, if I—”

“It’s not that,” you interrupted, your voice firm despite the tears. “It’s not you, Mat. It’s me. I... what if we made the wrong choice?”

That stopped him. His brows knit together as he studied you, his confusion clear.

You sucked in a shaky breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “What if we ruined everything? What if things will never go back to how they were before? You’re my best friend, Mat, and I don’t—” Your voice broke again, and you bit your lip hard, willing yourself to keep it together.

His eyes widened slightly, something soft and vulnerable flickering across his face. “You think I don’t feel the same way?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stared at him, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “I don’t know,” you admitted, the words barely audible. “I don’t know what to think. I just know I can’t lose you.”

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair as his gaze dropped to the floor. “You’re not gonna lose me,” he said finally, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “But, God, you’ve got to stop running away from me. From this.”

“I don’t know how,” you confessed, your voice trembling.

He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with something that made your chest tighten. “Then talk to me.”

Before you could say anything, he closed the distance between you, his hands finding yours with a gentleness that made your breath hitch. He held them tightly, grounding you in the moment.

“I don’t regret what happened,” he said firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “Not for a second. And if you think for one minute that I’d let that ruin what we have, then you don’t know me as well as you think.”

His words hit you like a wave, crashing over the fear and uncertainty that had been suffocating you. You searched his face, looking for any trace of doubt, but all you found was sincerity.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he admitted, his voice soft but unwavering. “But I’m not scared of ruining what we had because what if I want something more?” He pauses taking in a deep breath, “What if I want you?”

The tears came faster now, but they felt different—lighter, freer. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything. Instead, you did the only thing that felt right.

You stepped closer, your hands slipping from his to cup his face, and kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed or frantic like the first time. It was slow and tender, filled with everything you hadn’t been able to put into words.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing hard. “Don’t run away again,” he whispered, his voice shaky, “Please.”

“I won’t,” you promised, your voice steady this time. “I won’t.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal fic #mat barzal smut #mat barzal x reader #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl x reader #nhl smut #christmas special #christmas smut #nhl christmas

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miya-rin · 6 months ago

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“what the fuck do you two think youre doing?”

shit, you think, you didnt notice the balcony door had been slid open until you heard the voice of one of your brothers. you start to pull away from suna’s lips which earns you a small whine from his end, his grip tightens around you and honestly it its quite cute the way he is trying so hard to savour the moment. “come back later, we’re kinda busy.” the boy mutters before trying to move your face away from the distraction so that he can kiss you once more.

“suna you get your hands off of her right now, i dont give a fuck that its your birthday.” osamu pipes up, he looks furious and a little bit disgusted, if it hadnt been for the situation youre in right now you would think its kind of funny.

“samu lay off him, it was a mutual agreement, im just as guilty as he is ok?” that does not seem to help the boys understand, if anything they seem even more angry with you both.

“what the fuck do you mean it was a mutual agreement? are you two hooking up or something? yn he just turned 18 a few hours ago are you forgetting that?” atsumu says, he is rambling on with every excuse he can think of as to why this is “so wrong”, from the corner of your eye you can see suna trying so very hard to hide the grin that is creeping its way onto his face, his hands still all over you despite the fact that you arent alone anymore.

“listen, it was his birthday wish ok? i swear it didn’t mean anything,” sunas grip begins to loosen ever so slightly, “i just though it would get him off my back and get him over his little crush on me.” suna’s facial expression shifts but you choose to ignore it, you have bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

“no this is not ok, how would you feel if me or samu kissed one of your friends because it was their birthday wish?”

“that’s different, why would my friends want to kiss either of you?”

“excuse me? ill have you know that many women want to kiss me! and dont think youre getting off the hook either suna, ill make sure you never-“ you dont even want to hear the threat that is about to come out of his mouth, you just want to get out of this shitty situation.

“boys please, just give us five minutes to talk and then we will be back inside ok? i promise.” your efforts to plead with your brothers finally work.

“…fine,” atsumu mumbles, “but this better be a one time thing. im not gonna deal with you two being all lovey dovey around me.” and with that he lightly tugs on osamu’s sleeve, signalling him to walk back inside and continue the party. he closes the balcony door but not before bringing two fingers up to his eyes and then pointing them at the two of you. its a warning.

you turn back to suna and notice the sad look on his face - he looks kinda cute like this, “so, what do-“.

“did you really mean what you just said to them?” the poor boy looks heartbroken, after waiting three years to finally have a chance with the girl he loves wants the moment is ruined like that? “did you actually just do that so i would leave you alone?” his hands fully leave your body now and he takes a step back to put some distance between you two.

“well i mean sort of yeah… ive never looked at you in any way other than my brothers best friend if im going to be honest, i dont know if thats because of the age difference or what but ive never thought we could be anything.” the look of hurt is prominent on his face no matter how hard he tries to hide it, normally playful banter would have been thrown back and forth between the two of you but rintarou just stays silent, an indication that youve fucked up.

“listen suna i dont know what you want me to say, i wasnt really thinking when i said that to atsumu it just came out. i am 4 years older than you and many people would not approve of us if i decided to give you a chance.”

“who cares? i could treat you so right if you would just let me. i have waited entirely too long for this moment, all im asking for is one date.”

“you said that about the kiss too, one thing is never enough with you is it? you always need more.” a playful smile creeps onto your face which is outshined by the one on sunas, he knows that your smile means that you agree to go on a date with him.

“i really hope you arent fucking with me right now, that would be so cruel, especially on my birthday.”

“oh give the birthday excuse a rest now will you? you dont need to keep on at me you have already got what you want.”

“mhm i absolutely have,” he walks closer and once again wraps his arms around you, placing a hand under your jawbone to make you look up at him, “and i couldnt be happier.” he states as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss once more <3

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tortillamastersblog · 17 days ago

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Back To You - Part 10 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

9 months later. . .

“Look who finally made it,” Liam teases when he opens his door.

I scoff playfully and hug him after being ushered into the apartment. “I’m sorry. I know I said I’d be here earlier, but traffic was a bitch.”

“It’s okay. I know.” He waves me off and runs a hand down his dress shirt, smoothing it out. “But I have to get going, or I’m going to be late.”

I nod and accept the spare key he hands me while slipping into his dress shoes. “Have fun!” I tease when he shrugs on his jacket.

“It’s a business dinner, not a date, Y/N.” He deadpans which makes me laugh and slap his shoulder before he leaves with a final wave and smile.

It’s the end of September and I’m visiting New York for a couple of days since I have some time off before the hockey season begins again.

I’m here to visit Liam— obviously, since I’m staying with him— but also Tara and Sam, who agreed it would be better if I stayed with Liam since they’re apartment is fairly small and their roommate, Quinn, doesn’t know me.

Since Christmas, we’ve only seen each other once, three months ago, at one of my hockey games which Sam, Tara, Mindy and Chad came to see after they all collectively moved to New York.

I was happy to see them again, and glad we were once again living in the same time zone, but there was an underlying tension the whole time we hung out because things between Sam and I haven’t been the same ever since Christmas.

While Tara and I are in contact almost daily, Sam and I barely even talk once a week. It’s not for her lack of trying though, it’s because I’ve distanced myself ever since I realized it was hopeless to think the two of us could ever be a thing.

I gave up on her, doing exactly what Tara told me not to do, and I even tried to move on, but that didn’t work out as planned.

I went on a couple of dates here and there, and hooked up with several people, but I just can’t get over Sam even though nowadays we’re barely even friends.

The only reason we could still be considered friends is because of our backstory and because Tara connects us. Other than that, we’re back to the way things were when Sam first returned to Woodsboro, and being like this hurts even more than when she was simply gone.

Those five years were undoubtedly the most painful years of my life, but now everything is so much worse. I thought I’d gotten Sam back, I thought we could finally be something, but all of that hope shattered as soon as she said she’d never do long distance. She also never acknowledged how Richie exposed my feelings for her, which makes it abundantly clear that she’d rather just forget about it and move on as friends.

I know she doesn’t owe me anything and she’s been trying to stay in contact as best as she can, but I’m just too hurt to let her back in and accept her as just a friend.

I know how stupid that sounds and it’s not my intention to hurt her by keeping my distance, but it’s just how I cope with everything.

With a sigh I enter Liam’s apartment properly and let out an impressed whistle when I realize just how big and luxurious it actually is. When he sent me his address and I saw that it was on the upper west side, I was surprised because living here is usually reserved for the rich and famous, but he explained that his company owns the building and rents its apartments to their employees for a reasonable price.

That doesn’t make it any less luxurious though, and when I take a look in the bathroom and see a rain shower with a view of the twinkling city outside I make a mental note to use it as soon as possible.

Right now, I’m hungry though, so I raid Liam’s fridge, helping myself to a smoothie and some leftover chocolate cake that he has for some reason.

The dinner he’s at right now wasn’t planned, it was a last minute thing his boss organized, but I’m not complaining. Yes, we were supposed to do something together tonight, but I’ll just check and see if Sam and Tara are free instead.

We’re supposed to meet up tomorrow for lunch, but I don’t see why I can’t stop by their place tonight, too.

I pull out my phone and call Tara after gulping down some of my smoothie. She doesn’t answer, so I reluctantly call Sam next.

Tara’s probably in the shower or something. . . God knows she loves to take long ass showers. When she lived with me my water bill almost doubled.

Sam picks up after two rings which is not surprising since I can’t remember the last time I called her instead of the other way around.

“Hey, Y/N. You okay?” Her concerned voice makes my stomach twist and I hate how she thinks something’s wrong because I’m calling her instead of Tara.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m okay. Just got into the city and was wondering if I could stop by your place for some dinner since Liam was called into work,” I say.

The sound of traffic on Sam’s end of the line makes me realize she’s not home and I think calling might have been a mistake, but she immediately agrees. “Of course. I’ll text you the address again. I’m not home yet because I just got out of therapy, but Tara and Quinn should be home.“

“Okay. Thanks.”

There’s an awkward silence, but Sam is quick to break it by saying, “Alright then. See you soon.”

“Yeah. See you.” I hang up and exhale slowly.

It’s just Sam, Y/N. Pull yourself together. You’re going to go see Tara and Sam, and their roommate, not just Sam.

The two of us haven’t been alone since Christmas eve and I’m not planning on changing that anytime soon.

I finish the piece of cake and throw away the empty smoothie bottle before grabbing a zip up hoodie from my bag and heading out of the apartment.

Sam and Tara’s apartment is quite far away, and because I’m not in the mood to call an Uber or take the subway, I take one of the public e scooters standing around, unlocking it with my phone before heading off.

It’s nice getting some fresh air after being cooped up in my car for hours and not even fifteen minutes later I’m in front of the building Sam sent me the address of.

I get off the scooter and park it around the corner, making my way inside the building after getting buzzed in by some random person.

Compared to Liam’s building, this place is a dump, but it seems relatively safe and affordable, so who am I to judge. This is New York after all.

I head up the stairs and knock on the door of Sam and Tara’s apartment, my heart rate picking up with each second that passes until the door finally opens.

Having expected Sam or Tara, I’m surprised when a stranger greets me. It’s a red haired girl, around Tara’s age, with a round face and gray eyes. She’s dressed in only a robe and I momentarily avert my eyes when she reties it around her waist.

“Hi, you must be Quinn,” I say, raising my hand in greeting.

Quinn’s eyes rake over me and she smirks before her eyes snap back up to mine. “Yeah, and you’re Y/N, right?”

I nod, feeling slightly uncomfortable under her hungry gaze. “The one and only,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Quinn’s face softens ever so slightly and her smirk turns into a genuine smile. “So I heard. . . You’re here to see Sam and Tara?” she guesses and when I nod again, she opens the door properly and invites me inside.

“Sam should be here any minute, but Tara is out,” she says.

I frown. “She’s out? Sam said she’d be here.”

Quinn smiles apologetically and goes to say something but then a man’s voice from a nearby room calls for her. “Babe? You coming back or what?”

My eyes widen and I feel heat rushing into my cheeks. That’s why she’s only wearing a robe. “Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. . . interrupt you and your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend?” Quinn laughs as if the idea is ridiculous and waves me off. “Oh don’t worry. He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just hooking up.” She eyes me once again with that lustful look in her eyes and bites her lip seductively, squeezing my biceps. “You could join us if you want. The more the merrier, am I right?”

I squirm and pull my arm out of her grasp with an uncomfortable smile. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.”

God, what’s up with her?

I want to ask about Tara’s whereabouts again when the door behind us opens.

My eyes instantly lock with Sam’s and even though I’m nervous to see her again, I’m also relieved she’s here to distract Quinn from making a move on me again.

“Y/N. . .” She hugs me after a moment’s hesitation before shrugging off her jacket and hanging it up on the hook next to the door. “I see you’ve already met Quinn.”

I rub the back of my neck awkwardly and avoid looking at the aforementioned roommate. “Mhmm.”

Quinn, having absolutely no shame whatsoever, touches my arm again. “Yeah. Why didn’t you tell me Y/N was such a snack, Sam?”

Oh lord. . .

My face heats up again, but Sam is quick to come to my rescue. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow before stepping in between Quinn and me which forces the redhead to let go of me.

“Right. I forgot you don’t like to share.” Quinn laughs, unbothered and turns to head into the kitchen.

“Sorry about that. I know she can be a bit much sometimes.” Sam glances at me over her shoulder, and I wave her off nervously.

“It’s okay.“

She turns as soon as Quinn is out of sight and I hold my breath at how close she is.

She looks as beautiful as ever even though she looks tired and I curse my heart for flipping in my chest when she picks a piece of lint off my shoulder.

The white off-shoulder top she’s wearing over her tank top looks incredible on her and I have to force myself not to look at her exposed neck and collar bones too much, a task that is incredibly hard because she’s wearing the necklace I gave her for Christmas.

It glints in the low light and even though the knowledge that she still wears it makes my insides melt, it also serves as a reminder why I’ve been keeping my distance.

Don’t get hurt again, Y/N.

I swallow thickly and lean back a little, not missing the way confusion and hurt flashes across Sam’s face before she clears her throat and steps back.

She looks anywhere but at me before asking Quinn, “Have you seen Tara?”

Quinn, who was just about to open a bottle of wine in the kitchen turns with a sheepish smile. “Uh, don’t be mad. . .”

I frown and follow Sam into the kitchen.

“Why would I be mad?” Sam asks and the way Quinn winces slightly at her tone makes my lips twitch with amusement.

“Because you get mad,” she says and I can’t help but agree silently.

Sam does have a temper, however I’m not sure why she’d be mad when Quinn tells her where Tara is as long as she’s not alone.

“Babe?” The guy from what I’m assuming is Quinn’s bedroom calls for her again which makes Sam’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, the question of Tara’s whereabouts momentarily forgotten.

“Is that Paul?” she asks and Quinn cringes when the guy shouts, “Who the fuck is Paul?”

“Life, I have found,” she says quietly with an innocent shrug, “is all about variety.”

This time I can’t help but smile properly, and Sam chuckles softly, too.

“So, uh, where’s Tara?” she asks after a moment which makes Quinn sigh helplessly, the wine on the counter forgotten as she toys with the bottle opener in her hands.

“She went to the Omega Kappa Beta party.”

Huh. I didn’t think Tara’d be one to enjoy frat parties but I guess she’s young and wants to try everything now that she’s in a new city and in college.

Sam doesn’t seem to agree though and it’s clear why Quinn was scared of her getting mad when she exclaims, “What? I begged her not to go to that!”

I want to tell her that it’s just a party, but she seems to haver her reasons why she doesn’t want Tara there, so I stay quiet.

Quinn sighs again. “And we’ve now arrived at mad. . .”

I try my best not to smile— Quinn’s actually pretty funny now that she’s not trying to sleep with me— and focus on Sam instead.

She seems ready to explode, but gathers herself by taking a deep breath and closes her eyes momentarily. Then she deflates and when she asks, “Do you know if she at least took her taser?” she sounds more worried than mad.

A taser?

Quinn grabs the wine off the counter and pushes the cork screw into the cork before twisting it and opening the bottle. “I cannot speak to how heavily armed Tara is at this fraternity party,” she says hesitantly which makes Sam huff in frustration and brush past me back to the front door where she grabs a taser from a dresser.

I follow her, knowing she’s going to go back out to look for Tara, and Quinn follows me with the now open bottle of wine in hand, ready to return to her not-boyfriend.

Sam eyes the taser for a moment, her jaw working and I move around her to grab her jacket off the hook for her.

Right as I reach for it though, Quinn says something that makes me freeze. “Oohh. Is cute boy shirtless again?”

My head snaps around so fast, it’s a miracle it doesn’t snap, and my eyes instantly land on what, or rather who, Quinn and Sam are looking at through the window. There’s a shirtless guy, seemingly my age or a couple years older in the apartment right across from us.

I have to admit, he is cute with his neatly trimmed beard and muscular upper body, and I even smile when Quinn’s not-boyfriend asks, “Who’s cute boy, babe?” and Quinn cringes, replying, “Always you. . . sweetie.” But that smile is quickly wiped off my face when I see the way Sam is looking at him.

Her eyes are soft and there’s something like longing written all over her face which feels like a sucker punch to the stomach.

This is why I keep my distance. . . She’s not mine and if she likes this cute boy, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s not that I’m jealous, I’m just hurt and I’m once again reminded to keep my heart guarded.

But then Sam’s eyes snap to me and her face instantly falls and something like guilt flickers across her eyes, but I don’t dwell on it and avert my own eyes, staring at my shoes and fidgeting with Liam’s key in the pocket of my hoodie.

“You guys have been checking each other out for months, why don’t you just talk to him?” Quinn asks softly, and once again, it feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach.

Sam turns away from the window and I feel her eyes on me, but I don’t look up. “Because. . .” Her voice falters ever so slightly before going on. “That right there is all the romantic interaction I’m ready for.”

Once again a reminder that she’s not over Richie, and definitely not into me. . .

Out of the corner of my eye I see Quinn shrug and when Sam says, “I’m going to find Tara, you coming with me, Y/N?” I nod wordlessly without meeting her eye, and follow her out of the apartment after returning Quinn’s awkward wave.

I’m doing exactly what I planned on avoiding, which is being alone with Sam, but my worry for her going out alone outweighs my need to keep my distance, so I silently follow her down the stairs and outside where she pulls out her phone to look up the directions to the frat house.

I forgot you don’t like to share. . .

Quinn’s words suddenly echo through my mind and I frown because Sam and I obviously aren’t a thing, but before I can dwell on it too long, Sam nudges me and starts walking. “Come on, let’s go. The frat house isn’t too far from here, so we can walk.”

I wordlessly fall into step beside her, intent on not talking about what just happened, but she seems to have other plans because after we cross the street she turns to me with furrowed eyebrows and says, “You know, Danny and I aren’t a thing or anything. . .”

“What?” I know she probably means cute boy, but I wasn’t expecting her to say that. I thought they only knew each other because they live across from each other, but it seems as though they know each other better than that. Also, the fact that Sam is trying to deny that something is going on between them makes me believe there actually is something going.

Which is fine. . . Totally fine. She’s an adult and she can make her own choices.

“Y-you know,” she stutters. “The guy, Cute Boy, he and I, we’re not a thing. Not really— I mean we’re just—“

I stop dead in my tracks and raise a hand which makes her shut up and stop walking as well. “Why are you telling me this?”

She seems taken aback by the harshness of my tone and frowns, so I sigh and add, “I mean, I don’t tell you anything about my love life, so why are you telling me about yours?”

Sam’s frown deepens. “I just— I thought you should know— I mean. . . You’re my best friend.”

I scoff and before I can stop myself I say, “Am I though?”

“What?”

“Your best friend?” I clarify, ignoring how crushed she looks at the implication of my words. “We’ve barely spoken in nine months.”

“And whose fault is that?” she snaps back defensively. She crosses her arms over her chest and eyes me with a challenging glare.

I know she’s not actually mad, she’s just hurt and she’s put up her guard, so I deflate a little.

She’s right, it’s my fault we haven’t really talked since Christmas, but I’m not about to spill the beans and tell her why.

“Look,” I say softly. “Let’s not get into this now.”

“Why not?” she asks harshly. “Because you can’t just hang up if it gets too much?”

I cringe at that because lately every time she calls and asks what’s wrong I usually come up with an excuse to hang up or ignore her texts.

I shake my head and let out a deep breath. “Let’s just find Tara okay, we can get into this tomorrow.”

Sam bites the inside of her cheek and the storm of emotions in her eyes makes me believe she’s about to disagree, but then she huffs and turns around to continue leading our way to the frat house.

Long story short, at the party, Sam ends up tasing a guy who tried to drag Tara upstairs in the balls which in turn leads to Tara storming out with the rest of us— Mindy, her girlfriend Anika, Chad, Chad’s roommate Ethan, Sam, and me— hot on her heels.

“Tara, will you stop?” Sam says, sounding irritated as Tara continues to dash ahead. She’s short and has asthma, so she’s not going all too fast, but still. . .

She has yet to realize I’m also here, but I don’t want to get in the middle of what’s about to go down between her and Sam, so I stay back with the others, the twins having greeted me with quick hugs a moment ago before officially introducing me to Anika and Ethan.

“I cannot believe you did that! You embarrassed me!” Tara shouts over her shoulder.

“That guy was a dick. He was going to take advantage of you,” Sam argues and even though she’s right, that guy was really sleazy, she didn’t actually have to tase him. Also it looked like Chad had it covered, but I’m not about to get in the middle of this.

“So?” Tara stops abruptly and turns on her heels to face Sam.

The rest of us come to a halt a safe distance away, but I raise my eyebrows at what Tara just said.

“So?” Sam echoes incredulously, voicing my exact thoughts, but Tara is not having it.

“If I want to hook up with an asshole that’s my decision!” she shouts and even though she’s right, it is her decision, I don’t like the way she’s talking to Sam like she did something wrong by trying to protect her.

Sam tenses and I know what Tara just said hit a nerve, but she stays calm and simply nods dismissively. “Okay. . .”

Tara doesn’t seem to be done just yet though because she goes on, “I mean, you’re out of my life for five years and then you can’t leave me alone for five minutes.”

Yikes. She’s right, but. . . yikes.

“Because you’re not dealing with what happened to us,” Sam shoots back, her voice relatively calm. “Have you even gone to see the counselor once?”

“No, I’m not going to.”

“Why not?”

I sigh and share at look with Chad and Mindy who seem to be hating this just as much as me, if not even more because it sounds like this isn’t the first time the two sisters have been at each other’s throats.

Anika and Ethan just look uncomfortable and if it weren’t for the fight I’d laugh at how ridiculous they look, what with Ethan wearing Anika’s pumpkin hat and Anika wearing Ethan’s ridiculous cardboard helmet that matches his handcrafted chest plate.

“Hey, guys, come on,” Chad tries to step in at one point when Tara accuses Sam of living in the past, but he’s straight up ignored and I shoot him a pitiful look when our eyes meet.

They continue bickering, and even though I agree with Tara that we shouldn’t let something that happened to us for three days define the rest of our lives, I don’t like how she puts Sam on the spot in front of everyone by asking why she’s in New York with the rest of them.

After what feels like hours, they finally stop which is when, out of nowhere, a girl walking by yells, “Murderer!” and throws her drink at Sam.

Sam recoils and chaos erupts. There’s shouting and cursing, and a bunch of accusations thrown at Sam about God knows what, and I’m barely fast enough to rush forward and wrap my arms around her stomach from behind to prevent her from lunging at the girl who threw her drink at her.

Everything is over in a blur and before we know it the grill and her friends have left and the people who stopped and stood around to watch are moving on as though nothing happened.

I let go of Sam as soon as I’m sure she won’t do anything reckless again and step back, seeing out of the corner of my eye that Chad is also holding back Tara.

“What the fuck was that?” I ask, but no one answers and Sam even looks away as though she’s ashamed of something.

“Let’s just go.” Tara sighs and turns to leave, grabbing Anika’s and Chad’s arm.

Mindy frowns but agrees and is quick to follow them, leaving Ethan behind with me and Sam, who is currently trying to wring out her shirt.

“Hey, I. . . I have tissues if you want tissues,” Ethan offers kindly, pulling some tissues out of his pocket and handing them to Sam.

She wordlessly takes them and Ethan awkwardly looks between the two of us for a moment, obviously not knowing what else to do before hurrying after the others.

What an odd kid.

Sam dabs at her neck and hair where most of the drink hit her and she’s about to brush past me to follow the others as well, but I step in front of her and gently touch her forearm.

“Wait.”

Defeated brown eyes find mine, and the way she deflates when looking at me breaks my heart.

I have no idea what that girl and her friends meant when they called her a murderer and when they said she “knows what she did”, but now’s not the time to ask about it.

I take the used tissues from Sam and momentarily stuff them into the back pocket of my jeans so I have my hands free to unzip and take off my hoodie.

“Here, take this.” I hold it out to Sam, who simply eyes it with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt and put this on. I know how you hate it when clothes stick to you.” I wiggled the hoodie a little and raise an eyebrow until she sighs and takes it.

When we were kids I found out how she hates wearing wet clothes after pushing her into our pool after school once.

She wasn’t mad at first because it was summer and we both really needed to cool off, but then she got out of the water and her mood immediately turned sour.

She never explained why, but I knew it was because of her clothes clinging to her, so I never pushed her into the water again unless she was wearing a bikini or swimsuit.

“Thank you.” Sam’s small voice brings me back to reality and when I look up again I see she’s already changed into my hoodie. Her shirt is clutched between her fingers to the point where her knuckles are turning white, but I don’t comment on it.

She’s humiliated, sad, angry, and embarrassed, so all I say is, “You’re welcome,” before gesturing for her to lead the way and follow the others.

She lowers her chin in silent thanks again and starts walking, and I follow her after quickly darting over to one of the nearby trash cans and disposing of the tissues.

What a night. . . Maybe I should have stayed at Liam’s and watched some TV.

_______________________________________________

We’re in New York, people! And Ghostface is right around the corner. . .

Poor Sam, getting a drink thrown on her, but the way she clapped back at reader on their way to the party? Damn. . .

And Tara hasn’t even acknowledged reader yet hahah but it’s okay, they’ll talk in the next part.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

#x reader #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #samantha carpenter #scream #light angst

192 notes · View notes

jaredpadonlyyyy · 10 days ago

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𝙎𝙊𝙐𝙇𝙇𝙀𝙎𝙎 𝙎𝙀𝙓 𝙋𝙏. 𝙊𝙉𝙀

• 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏𝙏𝙔, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏 𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙄𝙏

• 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝘿𝙉𝙄 𝙄 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝘾𝙆 𝙔𝙊𝙐

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙐𝙉𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙏𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙀𝙓 (𝘞𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴) 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙔 𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙆, 𝙍𝙊𝙐𝙂𝙃 𝙎𝙀𝙓, 𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙐𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉, 𝙎𝙌𝙐𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝘾𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙈𝙋𝙄𝙀, 𝙁𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙀𝙄𝙑𝙀, 𝙈𝘼��𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙄𝙀𝙑𝙀, 𝙁𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂.

You have been known Sam has been soulless when Dean called you and told you that if Sam makes an appearance at your house not to let him in. But you would always fold like a cheap suit for Sam, always have, always will. And Dean knew that as well, since you both had a beautiful connection when they both saved you three years ago. You would’ve loved to have a relationship with Sam. But you were always so busy and Sam was always busy with hunting down the supernatural. That day three years ago, you both had a night filled with sweet slow passion that you will never forget. And you were completely and utter devastated when you learned that Sam was gone for good. You had gotten depressed for almost a year.

Currently you were in your office, working on your computer, when your phone rang. “Yes, Claudia?” You answered. “Some man with the name Jason is here to see you.” She said through the phone and you sigh hoping you had no one else come in so you can eat your lunch. “Let him in.” You told her as you hung up. A few moments later the door opened and you smiled at the man that entered your office but it fell the moment you made eye contact with those hazel eyes you’ve missed. But they didn’t look like the sweet ones you knew. They looked empty like no one was in there. You stood up so fast. “Sam?” You said as he closed the door behind him. “I’m guessing he told you I’m soulless?” Sam said as he walked over to the seats in your office. You gulped as you looked at the Winchester man. “Yeah, he did.” You told the man

“I wanted you to see you.” He said as both of you look into each other’s eyes. “You know, my soul might not be there. But I do remember our sex.” He said as your breath hitched. “It was great sex, the way you rode my cock.” He said as he walked around your desk and you didn’t move. You couldn’t, no matter who was in there. It was still Sam. Soul or not. “I just get hard thinking about it.” He said as he got closer to you as your hands leaned back on your desk as he got close

“W-What are you doing?” You asked him. You weren’t scared of him. But he did make you nervous and a little bit turned on. You haven’t been with anyone ever since Sam. You were that into the hunter that it didn’t feel right hooking up with anyone else. It still made you cringe when you remember how you left a guy hanging with a raging boner because you could not do it. It felt like you were cheating on Sam, but you weren’t since you hadn’t seen him since the last time. But you just couldn’t help it and now here he was. Grinding his clothed cock on your thighs as he groaned. “I need to fuck you, and I need you to ride me.” He whispered against your ear making you gasp

You felt his hand start going up your thighs as your breathing started to pick up. You didn’t want to fall for it. But it was Sam. Even though he doesn’t have his soul, it was still him and you missed him so much and you couldn’t help it. As much as you tried to take control of yourself, you will always fall for the hunter.

You couldn’t help but spread your legs more open to give him more access. Since you were wearing a dress it was way more easy for him to get access to your pussy. “You want to give it to me, don’t you my little slut.” Sam groaned as he felt your thong and he grazed his fingers on it. Making you hum in pleasure at the feeling of his fingers on your pussy as it just clenches over nothing. “Mmm, that’s right, my little slut wants it, don’t you?” He asked as you nod your head. You spread your legs more open for him letting your skirt fall onto your hips giving him a show of how wet he was making you. “Sam, please.” You said

Moving your thong to the side. He slowly entered his thick, long fingers inside of you making you gasp as your head falls back. “Fuck.” You tried not to moan loud, as you didn’t want anyone to know what you were doing. Especially since you were known as a virgin. People thought you were a virgin as you never hooked up with anyone, when you went out with them. Sam’s eyes were on you as he went in and out of your pussy slowly. Curling his fingers inside as your body jerked. The way his fingers would grazed your G-Spot, making your leg shake, your eyes roll, it was so good, your hips started to roll as if riding him.

Taking out his fingers you slumped as you hungrily looked into his eyes. Your chest falling up and down as he puts his fingers inside his mouth humming as he looked at you. “Just as sweet as I remember.” He told you. You looked at Sam as he got on his knees. He grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulder. Reaching to the hem of your thong and ripping them off your legs making you gasp as he literally ripped them off. He looked at you as he grabbed one of your legs and started kissing you, from your feet all the way to your inner thighs making you gulp as you watch him. Both your legs over his shoulder as you lean back on your hands watching him tease you so much. Your body jerked making you gasp as he blew air against your hot pussy. Then he lightly licked you.

“Oh, fuck.” You couldn’t help but let out a moan as you felt his tongue flicker your bundle of nerves.

Sam’s tongue teased your pussy hole as his fingers worked on your clit in a fast pace. His tongue going in and out of your tight little pussy as you became a complete mess. Breathing heavy as you watched him pleasure you in ways you couldn’t even comprehend. It was driving you insane at how close your orgasm was. How fast he was able to get you to your climax. Your legs shaking as you gripped your desk hard as you stopped breathing altogether as you let out a gasp. Your body shaking as your pussy fluttered as you orgasmed so intensely. “Aah!” You couldn’t help it. It just felt too good and you couldn’t control the moan that escaped your lips as your body jerked around as he kept on going. Making you push him away because it was too much. But he wouldn’t let you. So, you came three more times so sensitive.

Until you finally squirted. “Holy shit!!” You gasped in undeniable pleasure as you squirted as he took it all in. His fingers plunged inside of you fingering you fast and hard making you whimper as it became way too much. “Sam, please! It’s too much!” You whined as your body was producing another incoming orgasm. Your body tensing as your head falls back. Your mouth wide open as your legs open so wide. Sam’s fingers curling inside your pussy as he repeatedly hits your sweet spot. You could feel the sweat rolling off your head. “Ooo!!” You squealed loudly as you squirted again on his hand as he slows down. Finally you slumped against the table as you lazily looked into Sam’s soulless eyes as he smirked.

Sam stood up and his mouth was glistening in your juices. He leaned down, placing his lips on yours as you taste your on his lips as his fingers traced your perfectly smooth skin, the curves of your tight fit body. The way he rolled his hips making you gasp as his hard cock grazed your sensitive clit. Catching your breath. You sat up looking into Sam’s eyes as lust filled your eyes. You didn’t care how soulless Sam was. He was a sex god and damn you couldn’t get enough. You quickly took off his belt throwing it somewhere across the room and taking off his pants.

His boxer shorts hitting the ground next as his long, big cock springs out, leaking with pre-cum on it as it throbbed with how bad he wanted to fuck you so hard, it made you scream his name over and over again. You pushed him back into your chair and got in between his legs and get on your knees as he watched you, grab the base of his cock as kitten licks it all the way up to the tip of his cock and you didn’t even give him time and put almost all his cock in your mouth making him gasp as he watched you do it to him. You looked at the hunter through your eyelashes as you started bobbing your head up and down as he groaned. His hand gripping your seat hard as he looks at you. “That’s right, my little slut, sucking on my long big cock.” He grunted as you went down on him more. “Fuck, just like that.” He grunted again.

You bobbed your head up and down as Sam grunted, he pulled your hair into a ponytail and he pushed your head more down making you gag and your eyes watering, and Sam grunting as his cock twitched in your mouth. Sam pulled you up as you gasped for air. Your saliva connecting from your lips to the tip of his dick. Breathing heavy Sam ran his thumb against your plumped red lips as he looked at you with the desire of eating you alive. You felt how his cock was twitching in your hand as you looked at him in the eyes. Your hands slowly moving up and down on him.

He then grabbed your arm standing you up with him and he turned you around. Your chest on his back as his fingers reached down to your clit rubbing it fast as your eyes fall close, your legs almost giving up on you at how sensitive but good it felt. Sam grazed his teeth on your shoulder. Kissing it and sucking on your skin leaving his mark on your skin and biting down on your skin as he rubbed your bundle of nerves. He then bend you over your desk as he slaps your bum making you whimper at how it hurt, but it felt good at the same time. He pumps his cock a few times as he plays with your clit making you moan.

He then lines himself up, and didn’t waist any time, and thrusted inside making you let out a loud accidental moan. You had forgotten how big he was. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” Sam moaned, his hands gripping your hips as he started to slam into you in a fast pace. At that point you didn’t care who was listening to you and Sam fucking in your office, it was your office building either way. “Sam, oh, god!” Your legs shaking, they were jelly at how many times he made you orgasm over and over again in the span of a few minutes. The sweet loving Sam, he knew how to make you orgasm a few times as well, but the soulless one made you squirt not once but twice.

You couldn’t even keep yourself up anymore. So, Sam hugs you from your waist and just kept on slamming into you so hard, you forgot how to even breathe. Your hands were gripping your desk so hard your knuckles were turning white as Sam groaned on your ear, talking to you dirty and how he was going to fill up your pretty tight pussy with his cum. His hand moved down your clit and he started to rub on it so fast you squealed trying to get his hand away from your clit because of how sensitive you actually were.

“F-Fuck! Oh god!” Your nails dig into his wrist as you shook so hard, Sam groaning as your pussy clenched around his cock. “I’m going to cum.” Sam announced to you. But you couldn’t even speak because of how overstimulated you were and how sore you were going to end up. “Don’t let do until I say so.” Sam told you, you nodded yours head laying it on the desk as he kept his hard, fast pace, hitting spots you didn’t know existed. Your legs about to give out on you as they wobbled, but Sam kept you held up by your waist. “Sam, Sam, Sam!! Oh fuck!” You couldn’t hold it anymore and you felt like you were about to let it all go. “I-I can’t! I can’t! I can’t anymore!” You moaned.

Sam felt his balls tighten and his cock start to twitch and he grunted. “Go argh!” Sam lets out a grunt biting onto your shoulder hard as your pussy started fluttering as his cock twitched and he released his cum into you filling up your pussy. Your legs shaking as Sam’s body shook from pleasure from behind you.

His nails digging into the skin of your hips as he kept on slamming into you, letting you both ride out your orgasm’s. Finally stopping, Sam laid his head on your back with his soulless eyes closed his body was still shaking a little bit as your walls still clenched and his cock still twitched from the orgasm aftermath of it.

With his still hard grip on your hips. He lifted his head letting out a deep breath as he watched as he pulled out his softened cock out of your sore pussy, he watched as his cum drips out of your hole, his fingers gliding through your folds making your body jerk as he collects his cum with his fingers stuffing it inside your walls making you let out a painful gasp at how sensitive you were and you couldn’t do it anymore.

You felt his fingers deep inside your walls touching your sweet spot. Even with how painful it was you couldn’t help but moan because it felt good as well. “You like that, don’t you, you fucking slut.” He said as he took out his fingers, bringing it to your mouth to suck on them. His mouth dropped open at how you did it. “Fuck, you’re going to get me hard again.” He whispered as he grinds his soft cock on your behind.

Finally he lets you go, he pulled his jeans up and since your legs were complete jelly, you fell back onto your chair as you watched the Winchester man buckle his belt. His face expressionless as he did it. You started to feel disgusted with yourself at how much you loved getting fucked by soulless Sam. With sweet Sam, it was sweet, slow and you loved it, you just never thought you would love getting fucked like that. You stood up stumbling a little bit as you went to go look at yourself in your bathroom mirror and saw how your baby hair’s were sticking to your face because of all the sweat from all the activities you did

You looked at your neck and your eyes widen at the three purple marks on your skin, along with his bite makes on them. You didn’t even feel that and that really did ashamed you that you enjoyed it so much and that you wanted more from soulless Sam, you knew he’s dangerous, but that’s what turned you on.

That’s what made you want to ride him until he couldn’t cum inside you anymore. But it was so, so wrong. Because even though it was Sam, it really was not Sam. Dean told you his soul was still in hell with Lucifer and it made your skin crawl that you enjoyed having sex with a shell of a man, with no emotions.

After you were done fixing yourself, you walked out and you found the office empty from the Winchester man. You frowned knowing it was going to end up like that. It broke your heart knowing very well, he used your body for his own pleasure and his only.

You sat on your chair as there was a knock on your door. “Come in.” You said as you put your hands on your head. “Um, are you okay?” Your secretary asked you. “Yes, Mindy I’m fine.” You looked up and saw her blushing, which made you blush knowing they all most likely heard your very loud moans coming from your office. “I am so sorry you had to hear all that.” You apologized. “I really don’t know what got into me.” You told her as she shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, I mean at least you got laid.” She said cringing, making you cringe as well. “Yeah, but I could’ve done this in the privacy of my own home.”

“Hey, he was hot and office sex is even hotter.” Mindy said making you laugh at her lightheartedness

“Yeah, but next time use your home.” She said as you started to laugh along with her, Sam nowhere near your thoughts as you got back to work to finish so you can go home and wash up all the stink of sex.

It was now seven months since the last time you saw Sam or heard from Dean. You sat back on your office chair as you looked down at your huge pregnant belly. Yeah, Sam left you with a little gift a two weeks later. It was a girl and you couldn’t wait to meet her. You didn’t know if you wanted to tell a soulless man he was going to be a father. And you haven’t even decided if you wanted to tell his big brother how you enjoyed getting bent over your desk and getting fucked on it. That was not going to happen at all, no way. No matter how much Mindy tried to convince you to tell them. You didn’t want a soulless man to be her father. That’s not the live you wanted for her.

Your office phone rang and you groaned sitting up as you reached for it. “Yes, Mindy?” You asked as your smile fell at hearing the name’s Jason and Dean. “Y-Yeah, send them in.” You gulped as you hung up the phone. “Fuck.” You whispered as the door to your office opened. The brothers walked inside of your office. And what surprised you, was that you didn’t see soulless Sam standing there, it was your sweet, sweet Sam. “Hey.” He sweetly greeted you as your breath left your lungs. “Hey, Sam.” You said as you stood up. His hazel eyes immediately went to your belly. “You’re pregnant.” He said sounding a little bit disappointed. You didn’t know what to say to him.

“Hi, Dean.” You greeted the big brother as he looked at your belly. “Hey.” He said back as he looked into your eyes. “Can, I, uh.” You swallowed your throat. “Can I talk to Sam alone.” You said to him and he nods as he walked out of your office leaving you both alone. Flashbacks from that day came into mind.

“Look.” He started before you could open your mouth. “I’m sorry by the way. . . I, uh.” He blushed as he didn’t know how to word it. Making you blush as well. “It’s okay, but Sam, this baby. . .its yours. . .”

Ooo should I make a second part to this one? Like a dad Sam making sweet love with the reader? I think I might lol anyways enjoy! 💋

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hogwartsstudentconfidential · 22 days ago

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✨🎶Hogwarts Confidential is back. Back again. Confidentials back. Tell a friend. 🎶✨

Hellooooooo students! Welcome back to your favorite gossip newspaper. I hope everyone had a good Christmas holiday now let's get into the news and boy do I have a lot of news for you.

Starting off with some weekly updates as usually before we get into the good stuff:

Filch has been announcing a new ban on gummy yoyos? What even is a gummy yoyo? And how have you all been using it to terrorize Filch? (Wanting to know for research purposes definitely not for my own schemes…)

Now some good news. Now that we're back from break McGonagall has stated no exams for the next month so Ravenclaw should throw a party now that they don't have the excuse of their studies to hold them back.

Speaking of Ravenclaw did you all see that game this past weekend? Whoo that was a close one, although it did seem like Ravenclaw was very distracted. Congrats to Marlene on her win in the Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw game! I know she didn't play but she always wins in my heart [insert heart eyes].

And for our weekly activity because none of us can just stay in and study, Dueling club starts this weekend. So everyone head up to the clocktower this Friday for some awesome battles whether that's between your friends or your enemies. (nobody tell Pomfrey what really happens if you get injured.)

NOW ONTO EVERYONE'S FAVORITE PART, THE GOSSIP:

Starting off congratulations to Alexander Kemet-Ali and Andromeda Black on their engagement this past weekend at the Hogwarts New Year's ball. Alex brought in the new year by getting down one knee and popping the question right as the clock struck midnight. The young daughter of Black saying yes, after worrying us all in her recent post that they broke up before confirming they are actually in fact engaged!

Now onto a new brewing love triangle. Jamie the Ho and Anastasia Selwyn have been dating for the past couple of months as everyone knows but at the Potters Christmas ball it seems as though the Selwyn girl ran off to the gardens only to be seen alone with none other than Phoenix Harvey. Is this a scandal on our hands? It was well known a few months back that Harvey and Selwyn were caught hooking up after a wild Slytherin party only for her to end up with that whore Jamie a few days later. What is this girl thinking?

Ms. Selwyn was also seen leaving the Gryffindor common room crying a couple of days ago. Phoenix Harvey rushed after her to comfort the teary eyed girl. The girl crying over none other than shitty boyfriend Jamie Ho’s response to a photo of the girl having a nice time in his long-time rival's common room. Trouble in paradise I suppose. They should definitely break up.

Actually I almost forgot Kingsley Shacklebolt seems to have confessed his long time crush on the soon to be quidditch player at the Potters ball only to get rejected by the jerk that is Ho as he was dragged away by his girlfriend. How anyone could like Jamie Ho is something I will never understand.

Now onto Hogwarts favorite roller coaster of romance, Pandora Rosier and her significant others??? Trust me you'll wanna sit down for this one. According to sources the young Rosier twin attended the Potters ball with none other than Valentina Zabini only for the two to separate at the party and Pandora to be found chatting with Xenophilius Lovegood in a lonely hallway. The two seemed to discuss their child, a dodo bird whomst I forget its name, and their custody of the bird, as well as confessing previous feelings for one another. Afterwards the girl sought out Zabini and they seemed to have shared a moment? Although that's where the night ends MORE seems to happen a few nights later on New Year's Eve.

But before we get into that let's discuss Xenophilius Lovegood and the reason for Pandora and their discussion over the dodo bird's custody. Xenophilius seems to have never checked on Pandora after her breakup a couple months ago with Pureblood extraordinaire Lucius Malfoy. Instead opting to check on Malfoy and accept an offer of a “friendly dinner” with the boy. Only for Pandora to catch wind and accuse her ex best friend of plotting this the whole time and never caring about her. Which led to them cancelling their dinner with the boy and going back to chasing their longest friend.

Note: some mention from Lucius Malfoy about Xenophilius Lovegood being “the biggest snack”?????

NOW BACK TO NEW YEARS EVE. Pandora Rosier and Xenophilius Lovegood seemed to have run off to once again “check on their Dodo Bird” that Rosier claims is sick. However after their disappearance it seems the two are closer than ever and even seem to be a couple? Confirmation I'm sure will be posted by next week. I wonder how Lucius Malfoy is going to handle this news.

Another note: don't mess with Pandora or she'll steal batteries (and socks??) From your dorm room.

Now onto another world famous couple or should I say ex couple seeing as they are no longer together, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Hold on to something because this story is just absolutely ridiculous. The two boys broke up a few weeks ago, seemingly out of nowhere. Sirius Black seemed to be handling it worse than Lupin until he announced a new relationship with none other than Nico Mallory. Lupin also seems to have had a night with Lily Evans after the Evans girl posted a photo insinuating the two hooked up after arriving together to the new years eve ball. Lupin who was also seen getting close with none other than Gideon Prewett seems to be going through a hoe phase. But onto the best part, yesterday at the Hufflepuff party, Lupin was seen getting along very well with Mallory up until it was announced Mallory was dating his ex boyfriend. What will become of the two's relationship? Nobody knows.

Now onto the craziest couple in probably all of Hogwarts. Bartemius Crouch Jr and Evan Rosier. The two boys were seen kissing at the new years eve party only for Evan to barely remember and both boys to consult with long time friend and sister, Pandora Rosier. Evan who is engaged to Petra Elwood seemed to forget about the girl and their arranged marriage after finally confessing his feelings to his friend. The two are now dating and Petra is left in the dust for now. Although it seems Evans' previous confusion on his feelings for Petra have now been turned onto her as she battles with her future husband's new relationship and her own blossoming feelings for the boy. What will become of such a chaotic love triangle? Circle?

Callie held a ritual over the holidays??

Now onto my favorite news, MARY AND EMMELINE HAVE FINALLY CONFESSED TO ONE ANOTHER. My girl Mary finally made a move and it worked out perfectly. The two attended the New Year's Eve Ball and Potters Ball together. I wish you both nothing but the best in your relationship.

Tom Riddle has now become play boy extraordinaire? Tom who seems to run an after school club *cough* cult *cough* has been making moves on Hestia, Mary and Lydia. Even going as far as arguing with Emmeline over Mary and then arguing over Hestia with Marlene. I'd back off if I were you Riddle, these girls are not to be messed with.

Now onto the craziest breakup. Hestia and James Potter are no longer the IT couple of Hogwarts. The only stable couple still being Peter and Gilderoy. Maybe Hogwarts is cursed??? Hestia and James are now co-parenting their cat and Hestia was even seen kissing Marlene Mckinnon twice this past week or so. Hestia better treat my favorite girl right.

Also Marlene found out what I look like because she's my favorite girl, best secret keeper and we possibly kissed the world may never know. Love ya Marls ;).

Also Oliver, Severus and Theodore seem to have something going on but we'll see how that goes I guess? Theodore is making me very confused on what's going on.

We also have another new couple, Aurora De'veux and Mason Haus. Hopefully they can have a stable relationship unlike the rest of us. Good luck, lovebirds!

Now onto our last segment because I'm very tired of writing this long ass update. This is actually currently happening as I saw McGonagall, Filch and Slughorn run by while writing this— have you all ever seen Filch and Slughorn run? It's hilarious. ANYWHO the old ballroom is on fire??? AND an abandoned shed in the forest just past Hagrid's hut??? WHO IS PLAYING WITH FIRE???

Dumbledore is asking for updates or if anyone has knowledge on who could have possibly set these fires?? Apparently matches have been found at the scene of the fire–

That's all for now…

Tah-Tah💋

Until next time.

Remember Jamie's unworthy of your infatuation,

Marlene Mckinnon is hot,

And gossip is amazing.

@james-the-amazing-potter @starlight-starbright-thatsme @looneymoonyy @wormy-loves-ch33se @mystical-magical-me @king-ofthe-crop @xeno-graphical @malfoy-lu @rodolphus-le-strange @averykissableguy @fire-allayer @poison-penmanship @lifeofthe-barty @whokilledevanrosier @pandoras-nox @little-king-official @cas-not-the-band @marls-mckinn0n @hjonesworld @mary-mcdeal @emmelineandhervans @sybill-patricia-trelawney @lilytheginger @alicethekindone @flowers-of-narcissus @andromedashoax @the-queen-bellatrix @severusprince-snape @fabian-with-an-f @mollberryshortcake @fawningamos @k1ndest-keeper @aelius-with-a-quill @annajohn-silvae @adam-lukas-morningstar @imogenmorningstar @oxxen--free @camille-laurier @luciagraham @your-favourite-callie @addison-caddel @daughter-of-spring @magandang-kaluluwa @flyasaphoenix @tjsinclairofficial @secretlifeof-asher @toby-newtman-tics @bones-and-edgar @ted-the-teddy-tonks @scattered-across-thesky @alectocrow

#marauders&co

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bunnylovesani · 11 months ago

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He Was a Boy, She Was a Girl

Summary: Sam has never been the most reliable neighbour- but will he have your back when the opportunity arises?

Content warnings: Fluff with the tiniest bit of smut at the end

WC: 2.4k

Sam Monroe was nothing if not an asshole. If the mailman mistakenly delivered only one newspaper, he would rush out to make sure he was the first to get it. If you were studying and asked him to turn the music down, he’d crank it up to full volume until the walls vibrated. The one time you were sick and couldn’t wheel the garbage out to the end of the road, he laughed at your plea for help, kicking the piled-up bin on his way out. What’s more, he came over again later just to complain about the smell while you answered the door wrapped up in your duvet, sniffling through your painfully reddened nose.

There was no doubt whatsoever that Sam was a self-centred, lazy, abrasive boy. You’d learned long ago that if you wanted something done, he was not the neighbour to ask. So why were you so obsessed with him?

Maybe it was his steely cold good looks or the way he endlessly teased you that got you hooked but one thing was certain- he would never like someone like you.

Or at least that’s what you thought. Though the bravado he put on was impressively convincing, behind the layers of angst and attitude was a boy who had been smitten with you for years. He’d observed you closely since you were kids; your bedroom windows were parallel to each other and you weren’t too fond of closing your curtains. How could he not fall for you when you left taped-up paper notes for him on the glass, signing every message off with a heart? He’d roll his eyes and shut the blinds in response but a smile would creep up on his face once he was out of sight.

That’s just the way you were, tooth-rottingly sweet and resiliently kind despite his many attempts to enforce a distance between you. But you gave your kindness out to everyone- he could tell by the way you chirped “Good morning!” to the whole street and the wide grin that was always plastered on your angelic face.

Yes, it was clear as day that your brightness was not reserved for him, which is why he was decidedly careful not to mistake your warm-hearted nature for something more.

He didn’t see the way you baked your cookies just for him, swapping out the chocolate chips for raisins because you knew he preferred those even though you couldn’t stand them. He didn’t know that your beaming smile was only there because he’d crawled out of his room long enough for you to catch a glimpse of him that day. Just like you didn’t know that there was no smell coming from the bins that day, he just needed an excuse to see you were okay.

“Sam! Come on, open the door. I know you’re in there.” You sighed, tapping your foot impatiently outside his house.

“What?” He huffed, opening up with half-lidded eyes and his usual boorish demeanour.

“There you are, I’ve been knocking for all of ten minutes. Brad needs a flat nut tool for his guitar and I thought it sounded like something you’d have.”

“Brad?” He raised his eyebrow. “That Neanderthal has taken up playing?”

“He wants to be a guitar tech.” You chewed on your bottom lip, his scrutinising glare piercing into you.

“And he can’t buy his own tools?” Sam turned around and walked off into his room with you trailing closely behind.

“He says he forgot to buy this one.” You shrug.

“Well too bad, I’m not loaning my best tool to a guy that forgets to turn up to his own finals exam.”

“That was one time!” You defended him though you weren’t entirely sure why.

“One time too many.” He lands back into his unmade bed with a soft thud. “You know he wants to fuck you, right?”

“Brad? No way.” You shake your head fervently.

“Oh, yes. He’s pretending to be your friend, taking you out to all these parties, just waiting for an opportunity for you to let your guard down.”

“You’re too paranoid, Sam. I mean, honestly. Not every guy wants to get in my pants. I mean, you should know. You can barely tolerate me.” You chuckle mirthlessly, hoping in vain that he would refute your claim.

“Yeah. I suppose.” He clears his throat and sinks deeper into his duvet, awkward energy filling the air.

“Well, I’ll be on my way. Sorry for bothering you.” You turn on your heel.

“Bye.” He grunts as you make your way out of the house.

In hindsight, what you’d asked of him was embarrassingly silly and you knew he’d never agree- but you would take any excuse to talk to him, even if the conversation was uncomfortable.

As you strolled the few steps it took to reach your home next door, you saw Brad standing by your porch.

“Hey there, gorgeous.” He smirked, opening his arms to pull you in for a hug.

“Brad?” You hugged back confusedly. “What are you doing here?”

“Do I need a reason to see a friend?” He quipped disingenuously.

“Uh, I guess not. I asked Sam about the flat nut but he doesn’t have one.” Your gaze wandered to Sam’s bedroom window, which faced out to your porch.

“The what? Oh, that. Ah man, that really sucks!” He slapped his leg insincerely.

“Yeah…I should be going now, thanks for stopping by.” You try to shake him off but he steps in front of the door before you can enter.

“Woah, woah, wait. Saying bye so soon? But I came all this way.” He cocks his head and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“That’s why you should’ve called first.” You try to sidestep but he grips his broad hands on your shoulders, holding you in place.

“Don’t be rude.” He warns, beady eyes darkening.

“Get your hands off me!” You slap him across the face and wriggle out of his grasp, pushing him aside to run into the house. You slam the door shut, locking every bolt and key you have before peering out the peephole to ensure he’d left; he trudged down the porch muttering curses under his breath until he was out of view. Sliding your back down the door and bringing your knees close, you exhaled a shaky breath. Sam was right.

“Hey, hold up!” Sam shouted as he ran out of his front door to catch up with Brad, who had just passed his front yard.

“The hell do you want?” He grumbled, stopping for a moment to observe the scrawny, pale specimen marching towards him. “I don’t actually need the damn flat nut.”

“Oh, this isn’t about the tool.” He chuckled, giving himself no time to think about how much taller or broader his opponent was before his arm reared back and he punched Brad square in the jaw, knocking him down to the concrete pavement.

“You come near her again, I swear to God. I’ll show you what flat nuts look like.” Sam spat, enraged by what he’d seen unfold through his window.

“The hero act is adorable. It really is.” Brad wheezed. “But she’ll never want you.”

“If you so much as look at her again, I will put you in the fucking ground.” Sam recoiled venomously, adrenaline and fury pumping through his veins.

Before being tempted to do something more drastic, he paced over to your front door, giving himself a moment to diffuse before ringing the doorbell.

“Hey. You okay?” He asked breathily once you answered.

“Quickly, come in.” You ushered him in and looked both ways before locking the door securely behind you. “You were right, Sam. He tried making a move on me! And he wasn’t best pleased when I didn’t play along.”

“What an idiot.” Sam shook his head disapprovingly as your eyes filled with tears. “Oh come on, don’t cry. You know I don’t know how to deal with that.”

“Sorry.” You winced, wiping them away immediately as he scratched the back of his head, a conflicted expression painted across his face.

“Why are you here?” You sniffled, remembering you forgot to ask.

“Oh, um, I- I came to ask if you wanted to get some ice cream.” He declared somewhat unconvincingly, subtly scanning you to make sure you were unharmed.

“You? Want to get ice cream with me?” Your eyes stopped watering at the thought.

“I’m craving some, why not bring you along? It’s a nice day and there’s an ice cream truck parked right down the road.” He gulped, hoping you wouldn’t question his out-of-character behaviour.

“O-okay.” You nodded, chest feeling lighter at the thought of a strawberry scoop.

“Come on then, slowpoke, out you get.” He opened the door and swung his arm out.

“Coming.” You chuckled, Sam’s teasing instantly brightening your mood.

He guided you down the road, thankful the truck was in the opposite direction to the block he’d had his scuffle with Brad.

Halting before the white van, you observed the myriad of flavours on display and pondered.

“We’ll have one cone with vanilla and one with rum and raisin, please.” Sam announced to the balding ice cream man before you could interject. He swiftly scooped up the creamy spread and gave it to you both, eyebrows furrowed at the scrunched-up 5 dollar note Sam handed him in return.

You gulped at the brown-mauve lump, not wanting to appear ungrateful but struggling to hide your displeasure.

“You love raisins, right? You put them in all your cookies.” Sam sucked at his melting white scoop and you glared enviously.

“Of course, yeah.” You muttered as convincingly as you could before licking a stripe up the unappetising glob, careful to avoid any rogue raisins.

“How is it?” He asked earnestly.

“Amazing. So tasty. Wanna try?” You nudged the cone his way but he shook his head.

“I’ll stick to my boring vanilla.” He winked before taking a crispy bite out of the wafer.

Using strategic nibbles, you could stomach the flavour of the rum by swallowing it whole before the sickly taste had time to disperse. The raisins, however, were a different kind of challenge. Whenever Sam looked away, you took the opportunity to quickly pick the morsels off and toss them to the ground. He was too lost in his usual grumbling, heightened by the excitement with Brad, to pay any notice. Finishing the last of your cone with a sigh of relief, a shiver coursed through your body.

“You cold?” Sam nudged your shoulder against his own.

“A little.” You shrugged, acting like it was the weather and not the monstrosity you’d just ingested causing your goosebumps.

“I didn’t bring anything.” He tutted, stopping in his tracks. “Let me run back and get you something.”

“No, Sam, it’s fine-“

“It’ll only take a minute.” He interrupted, already jogging back towards the house as you took a seat on a nearby bench. It was pointless arguing with him.

Sam retrieved a black fleeced hoodie from his coat rack and quickly paced his way back, not wanting to keep you waiting. As he caught up with you, he noticed a trail of little brown lumps scattered across the pavement, each fleck spaced a couple metres apart. Squinting, he peered closely until the details came into focus. Are those raisins?

Somewhat carelessly, Sam tossed the hoodie in your direction and you grabbed it with a grateful nod. You draped it over yourself with a contented hum, the warmth of his scent enveloping you.

“Thanks.” You smiled gratefully.

“No problem.” He sat down besides you, keeping a small distance. “Let’s play a game.”

“What kinda game?” You cocked your head curiously.

“One of those rapid fire ones. I ask short questions and you have to say yes or no really quickly.” He explained with a faint smirk.

“Okay, hit me!” You slapped your palms against your thighs excitedly.

“Alright. Is pink your favourite colour?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love roses?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like Brad?”

“No.”

“Is today a Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left your lips, your breath hitched and your mind began racing with ways you could take it back. Sam smirked and shuffled back on the bench, spreading his legs apart and resting his hands behind his head.

“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly taking pleasure in your humiliation.

“As a friend. As a neighbour!” You interjected frantically.

“Don’t try to backtrack now. You love me.” He laughed, shoving you playfully as you dropped your head into your hands, keen to hide your reddening face. “Why did I find a trail of raisins leading up to here, huh?”

You raised your head to meet his gaze, now softened and sincere.

“I hate raisins.” You mumbled.

“And you put them in all your cookies because?”

“I knew you liked them.”

“I thought as much.” He hummed, his suspicions confirmed.

“Look, Sam- it’s a really stupid crush, I’ll get over it, I promise. This doesn’t have to change anything, right?” You whined desperately.

“Of course it does. It changes everything.” He shook his head.

“What? No, Sam, please-“

“Now I can finally do what I’ve been wanting to for years.” He turned to face you, Adam’s apple bobbing with apprehension.

“Wh-what? Wait, Sam-” You quietened, shrinking into nothing as he drew closer.

“Shut up.” He grasped your jaw firmly and you melted into his touch as he grazed his bottom lip against yours. “Enough talking.”

Your whimpering was swallowed by the plump pink lips that enveloped your own, fingers tangled into your hair as he kissed you in a way that made you feel his years of longing. The soft, wet flesh smacked messily and filled your chest with an aching desire, unlike anything you’d experienced before. Strings of drool connected your lips as you pulled away reluctantly for breath.

“You’re a good kisser.” You panted breathlessly, blissfully unaware of your surroundings or the judgemental glares you’d been getting from passers-by.

“Come back to mine and I’ll show you what else I’m good at.” He smirked, wiping the spit off his deliciously swollen lips.

You wanted to play modest but you knew there was no use resisting- by the end of the night, you’d be bent over his unmade bed, scrunching up the sheets with balled-up fists and moaning out his name as he mercilessly moulded himself into your squishy guts.

You couldn’t wait.

Taglist:

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#hayden christensen #sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe fluff #life as a house #hayden christensen x reader #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader

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steddiehyperfixation · 1 year ago

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don't you forget about me (part eight; final)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)(part seven) (ao3 link)

It was an “if” if Eddie would actually be discharged today, but now, after some more poking and prodding, he's finally on his way home with prescriptions for pain meds and physical therapy.

Wayne helps him up the three creaky, beautifully familiar stairs into the trailer, and Eddie collapses onto the old, beautifully familiar couch the second he gets inside. The weary groan he lets out is only slightly over-dramatized. “I feel like an 80 year old man,” he complains, entire body sore and aching to the bone already. “Now I know how you feel.”

“Oi, I ain't that old,” Wayne protests. When Eddie snorts derisively, Wayne rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Alright, fine, so we both got creaky knees now. You, at least, will be young and spry again in no time, though,” his uncle tells him. “Just get some rest, old man.”

Eddie heaves a great big sigh, takes another breath to steel himself, and then does just the opposite of that.

“What did I just say?” Wayne mutters as Eddie moves to stand again.

“I said I’d call Steve,” Eddie says. Steve had to go to work, but he'd told Eddie that morning to call him if he ended up making it home today. “I’ll dip out of work and come hang out, help you settle in, if you want,” Steve had said.

Wayne offers, “I can call him for you.”

“No, no, I got it,” Eddie insists, words broken by a grunt as he hauls himself back to his feet. “I can make it to the phone, Wayne, I'm not a complete invalid.”

“Alright.” Wayne raises his hands in defeat and backs off. He’s never been one to hover. “You just shout if you need me.”

Eddie limps - slowly, painfully, with difficulty - to the phone on the wall by the tiny dining table they never use, the surface littered instead with unopened mail and haphazard papers scribbled with notes and reminders and important phone numbers. He leans heavily against the table as he paws through the piles trying to find a note of Steve's number. Eddie finds it buried deep, probably long since memorized by now before his memory got erased, but there it is: a notepad paper with Steve's name scrawled on it and two phone numbers written underneath, home and work.

“Bingo.” Eddie grabs the paper, takes the phone off the hook, and dials the work number.

The phone rings a couple times, and then: “Family Video. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Stevie.” Eddie smiles at the sound of his voice, as if he hadn't literally just heard it only a few hours ago.

“Eddie!” Steve's bored customer service voice brightens. “Are you home? How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, I’m home. I’m alright. I mean, I’m bone-fucking-tired and feel about a million years old, but it's really really good to be back,” Eddie says honestly. He adds, “I’m under strict orders to rest, though - gonna be bored out of my mind, so I could use the company if you were serious about ditching work for me.”

“Of course I was serious,” replies Steve. “It's a slow day today anyways.”

Eddie grins. “Get your sweet ass over here then.”

A smile is evident in Steve's voice too. “I'll be there in ten.”

Eddie hangs up, tries his best to wipe this stupid lovesick grin off his face. He stumbles his way down the hall to his room next, flicking on some music from the cassette player on his dresser and looking around. His room is just as beautifully familiar as the rest of the trailer, not much changed from the way he last remembers it. The same music and D&D shit clutter his surfaces, the same posters clutter his walls. His bed is unmade, clothes litter the floor, same as always.

The only differences: his beloved electric guitar no longer hangs on the wall by the mirror (he was told, devastatingly, that she hadn't survived her trip to the Upside Down), and there are photographs he doesn't recognize taped up around the corners of that mirror. Eddie staggers over to get a closer look, only to first be momentarily jumpscared by his own reflection. His face is pale, eyes sunken, and his hair frizzes out in a greasy, tangled mess around his head, unwashed and unbrushed for who knows how long. Gross, but whatever. He manages to ignore his sickly appearance and inspects the pictures he had apparently deemed important enough to stick to the edges of his mirror.

There are photos of Eddie smiling with Hellfire and his band and the kids, in large groups and small groups, with old friends he remembers and newer ones he doesn't quite. But what catches his attention the most is a photobooth strip of him and Steve. The first picture shows the two of them grinning, arms slung around each other’s shoulders; the second, a silly face photo, Eddie sticking out his tongue and Steve crossing his eyes; the third, Eddie giving Steve devil horns while Steve laughs; and the fourth-

Eddie plucks the strip off the mirror, stumbles, so taken aback he trips over his own lame feet until he plops down heavily onto his bed, and he stares. He stares at the last image in the row, which depicts - clear as day and undeniably real, immortalized in ink on photo paper - Steve kissing Eddie, tender hand on his cheek, both of them smiling against each other’s lips.

He stares and he stares and he stares. And the longer he stares the more he can almost feel it, taste it, see the events of that photo strip playing out in his mind’s eye like a waking dream. Like a memory.

Steve pulls up to the trailer, the one with the metal music blaring from somewhere inside that announces to the whole park that Eddie Munson is back home. He smiles at the sound, gets out of his car and bounds toward it.

It's Wayne who lets him in when Steve knocks on the door. “He's in his room,” the older man tells him as he steps aside to let Steve in. “Make sure he's stayin’ off his feet, will you? ‘Cause lord knows he won't listen to me.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Steve says, and his tone and his smile say I got him. Wayne nods.

Steve makes his way down the hall to Eddie’s room. He raps his knuckles against the door first, but he doubts that can even be heard over the music so he pushes it open without waiting for a response. “Hey, Ed-” Steve starts, only to falter when he sees Eddie sitting statue-still on the edge of his bed, eyes boring holes into a photo strip of the two of them together. “Oh.”

Eddie blinks, expression unreadable as he looks up and over at Steve. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I-” Steve doesn't know what to say, what he should say. His veins buzz with a nauseating mix of hope and anxiety and it's making him feel a bit sick. He takes a deep breath, turns down the music so he can think. “I wanted to. I just- I thought it would freak you out. You didn't know me. I didn't want to force anything on you.”

“So…we were together,” Eddie says slowly. “For how long?”

“Since July.” Steve’s desperately searching Eddie’s face for something, anything, to clue him in to what Eddie’s thinking or feeling right now. “Are- are you freaked out? Because you look a little freaked out.”

“I’m not freaked out,” Eddie says, and it's almost convincing. “I'm just…processing.”

“Oh-kay…” Steve breathes out, leaning cautiously against the doorframe, still hovering by the exit just in case Eddie decides he doesn't want him there anymore once he's finished processing.

“I’ve, uh-” Eddie looks back down at the photo strip he holds in his hands and takes a breath. “I’ve been remembering some things, you know, little things - in dreams - about us. But I- I thought I just had a crush or something, because I thought if all of that was real, if we had really been that happy - that…in love - then you would've said something. You would've told me.”

When Eddie's eyes meet his again, Steve realizes he'd misread his expression before. Eddie's not freaked, he's upset, hurt, not because of what he's learned but because it was kept from him. Of all the worst-case scenarios Steve's spiraling mind had come up with over the past couple weeks, he had not considered this one. So preoccupied with his own angst over being forgotten and fear of being unwanted, Steve hadn't thought to consider that him hiding the true nature of their past might make Eddie feel unwanted too. That's the last thing Steve wants; the ache of that trumps any other ache he feels.

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I just- you didn't know me, and I panicked; I didn't think, or-or I thought too much, but I should've just told you.” Steve pushes off from the doorway and goes to sit beside Eddie, because he can't stand Eddie looking at him with those big doe eyes and not being close to him. He leaves a bit of space, barely holds himself back from taking hold of Eddie's hand. “Because it was real, all the things you've been remembering. It was real- it is real, and I’m so sorry I didn't tell you.”

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. His gaze flicks him up and down and across his face, and then Eddie grabs him, hands dropping the photo strip to instead clutch at Steve's cheek and jaw as he pulls him in and kisses him. As their lips slide together, familiar, the both of them sigh into the kiss. Steve feels a bursting in his heart, so similar to the way it felt the very first time they’d done this: the giddiness of reciprocation, the intuition that this is right.

When Eddie pulls back after a few long moments, something is changed, something returned. Steve watches Eddie’s eyes flutter open; and when they do, for the first time since he'd woken up in that hospital bed, Eddie sees him, knows him, loves him.

“How could I ever have forgotten that?” Eddie says, almost whispered, running his thumb across Steve's cheekbone. “How could I ever have forgotten you?”

Steve could cry. Tears made of relief and joy blur his vision, because Eddie is looking at him with all the tenderness he'd been missing these past weeks, the painful emptiness of before now filled. It's all back. His Eddie is back. Steve pitches forward and hugs him bodily. Eddie returns the embrace; Steve sinks into his arms and it feels like coming home.

He closes his misty eyes, buries his face in the crook of Eddie's neck and the tangles of his hair, and he breathes him in, clinging onto him like Eddie might just disappear if Steve ever let go. Eddie holds him just as close, one arm wrapped firm around Steve's waist while his other hand cradles the back of Steve's head and strokes his hair. Steve soaks in every touch, feels every place where they are pressed against each other, so warm and safe and loving after so long without it. He is whole again in the arms of the man he loves.

“I missed you,” Steve mutters, lips brushing against the skin of Eddie's neck as he speaks, muffled.

“I know, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, “my Stevie, I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay. It wasn't your fault,” Steve mumbles, and he thinks maybe they both need to stop apologizing for this.

Eddie must think the same, because he says, “And it wasn't yours either,” like he knows every twisted, guilty thought that's been haunting Steve lately and he absolves him of them. He tugs gently at Steve’s hair to get him to lift his head and look him in the eyes. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says quietly. Eddie reaches up to brush from his cheek a tear Steve didn't even know had fallen, and as he wipes it away he wipes away everything - all blame, all fear, all pain. Eddie had forgotten him, and it sucked, but now he remembers again, and none of that matters anymore. Steve hangs onto Eddie's wrist. “Just-” His voice rasps with emotion, making it rougher. “Don't you ever forget about me again.”

It's not a promise that can be made with any certainty - anything can happen at any time, just as unexpectedly as it had this time - but Steve doesn't need certainty, he just needs to hear the words, and Eddie gives that to him. “I won't, darling,” he vows, with gentle reassurance. “Never again.”

“Good,” Steve sighs, turning his head into Eddie's hand to press a kiss to the palm.

The last of his heavier emotions drain out of him then and now he can feel the joy of Eddie's return in its whole entirety. As he rolls his face out of Eddie's hand and settles his eyes on the beautiful boy in front of him, a grin begins to spread across Steve's face; Eddie's smile grows in tandem with his, like he's smiling just because Steve is. Steve says, giddy in full now, “You're back.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, lovely and bright, ducking to bump his forehead against Steve's. “I'm back.”

Steve lets go of Eddie's wrist to tangle a hand in his hair, and he tilts his head up to kiss him again, just because he can, because he's making up for lost time. They draw each other in close once more, lips and bodies moving against each other, easy and natural. Steve could stay right here like this forever, never wants to stop holding him or stop kissing him.

But a thought - a question - tickles at the base of Steve's skull, and when he does pull back he asks, hopeless romantic that he is, “Just in case - I mean, just so I know - what was it that brought your memory back? Was it like a…true love’s kiss breaking the spell sort of thing?”

Eddie laughs, gives Steve another quick peck like he always does when Steve says something endearing. “Not quite, Prince Charming,” he responds with a grin so fond Steve thinks his heart might burst. “It was more like…the things I had remembered were just dreams to me, shallow and unreal, but kissing you was like an anchor, a reminder that allowed those dreams to sink in as proper memories and become real.”

“So…basically it was true love’s kiss,” Steve says cheekily, just to hear Eddie’s laugh again, just to receive another affectionate press of Eddie's lips against his.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie concedes, smilingly, never one not to indulge whimsy, “we can call it that.” But then he amends, with a little less levity, “It wasn't exactly a magic cure-all, though. It didn't bring everything back, there are still gaps in my memory.” He looks at Steve with eyes like pools of melted chocolate, soft and endless. “But I remember that I love you; I remember that much.”

And Steve tells him, “That's enough," and he pulls him in for another true love's kiss.

THE END. taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (continued in replies)

#and that's all folks!#endings are so hard for me but i hope you guys like this one #huge huge thank you to everyone who's followed along; all the love and support on this has been insane and i am so grateful <3 #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

Text

Always Ever Only You Part 11 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets a few second chances in the midst of a deployment he would rather not have to complete. He just wants to be home with you, trying to fix what is broken. But he doesn't know how much you've been struggling.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 5100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley felt devastation. Were you really going to make him wait the full eight weeks before you would talk to him? He couldn't do it. He had too much to say, and he needed to see your face.

"Fuck." He entered your phone number and tried again. And again. But as he was about to enter it for the fourth time, he grasped the iPad and forced himself to stand.

"No answer?" the officer asked when Bradley handed it back to him. His response was somewhere between a nod and a shrug, and he felt like crying. "Want me to add you back onto the list?"

"Please," Bradley rasped, swallowing hard. It was still dinnertime. He could go back and get something to eat. But he'd lost his appetite, and even though he didn't mind bunking with Bob, having a few minutes alone in the room sounded like his best bet.

It felt like his feet weighed a ton as he walked along all three corridors and down a flight of stairs before he was at his bunk door. And then he collapsed onto his bed without even removing his boots. You always picked up. You always answered his calls. You even answered after Josh attacked you.

Bradley thought he was going to be sick. And then Bob unlocked the door and let himself inside. "Hey, Bob," he grunted, rubbing his temples with his fingers.

"Oh. You seem annoyed that I'm here," he replied, closing the door very slowly. "Do you want to kick me out again so you can have the bunk to yourself?"

Bradley turned and looked at him, thoroughly confused. "Again?"

Bob blushed a little bit as he kept his hand on the doorknob. "Uh, yeah. Last time we bunked together? A few years ago? You kicked me out of the room in the middle of the night."

Bradley sat up on his bed. "I did?"

"Yeah," Bob said softly. "You came back annoyed with me. You asked me to leave. You had a woman with you."

Bradley felt even sicker now. He could vaguely remember what Bob was talking about. A deployment before he met you. It had been late. He wanted to hook up. And Bob had been his roommate at the time.

"I can't believe I did that," Bradley whispered, getting to his feet and taking Bob by both shoulders, leading him away from the door. "That's never going to happen again." He gave him a quick hug. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to leave the bunk, okay? And I'm not going to hook up with anyone, unless my wife miraculously appears here and decides she still loves me."

Bob nodded. "She still loves you."

"I know she does," Bradley replied as he sank back down onto his bed. This time he removed his boots and tossed them next to the door. "I just need to do a lot better. I just want to have a happy wife."

"Yeah," Bob agreed, also untying his boots. "She makes you a lot better. You don't kick people out of their rooms anymore, and you always remember everyone's birthday."

Bradley groaned and nodded. "That's because she remembers everyone's birthday, and she reminds me."

Bob smiled and nodded as he pulled out some notebooks and a pen. "You were still annoyed though. When I came in just now. You can tell me why if you want to."

Bradley sat up and faced Bob across the few feet of space between their beds. "She didn't answer when I tried to call her. This is a first."

"Hmm," Bob hummed thoughtfully without saying anything else.

"Yeah," Bradley added. "There's a lot I want to tell her. Shit she deserves to hear. I'm afraid I'm going to forget or completely fuck it up by the time I get to talk to her."

Bob tried to hand him a notebook and his pen. "Write it down."

"Write what down?" Bradley asked, cautiously taking the offered items and flipping through the notebook which was empty.

"Write down all the things you want to say. I started journaling a few years ago to help organize my thoughts and manage my anxiety. I think it's helped me in a lot of ways, including making me a better, calmer aviator. But you could write notes to or about your wife. See what works."

And then Bob started writing in the other notebook, leaving Bradley to his own thoughts. He opened up to that first, pristine page and placed the pen to it.

Dear Baby Girl

----------------------------

You felt great after Sunday brunch with Cam and Maria. As soon as you got there, you said, "We've been trying to get pregnant. I'm not pregnant. Let's have mimosas and not talk about Bradley." And they listened. And it was wonderful. And it's not that you didn't want to talk about him or think about him, it was that you really needed a break. Because he was the only thing you were thinking about.

On Monday, as soon as you got to work, it felt like you were leaving again for your doctor's appointment. You didn't even want to go. You didn't want to get on the scale. Ever since you overdid it on your honeymoon months ago, you'd been afraid to weigh yourself, because you knew this could be adding to your issues.

When the nurse took your blood pressure and then told you to get onto the scale, you couldn't even look at the readout. You'd bring it up to the doctor in private, away from everyone else in the hallway.

And then you were led back to an exam room and left to squirm around on the paper covered table in the rough hospital gown while you stared at your uniform folded neatly on the chair by the door. Your name tag was boldly reminding you that you'd tacked Bradshaw onto your last name. When your doctor walked in, she used your full hyphenated name when she greeted you, and you tried to smile.

You thought about Bradley as you decided to get everything out of the way right from the start. "I want to talk about my weight. And fertility."

But a few minutes later, you were sitting with your mouth hanging slightly open. "You've lost almost fourteen pounds since this time last year. Were you intentionally trying to lose weight?" she asked, eyeing you carefully.

"N-No. I thought I gained a lot of weight. I've been nervous to check. I'm...trying to get pregnant."

She nodded and started to examine your eyes and ears as she said, "You need to make sure you're taking care of yourself. Eating well. Three meals a day. Healthy snacks. Exercising." Then she looked you in the eye. "Based on your age and general health, I can refer you to a specialist once you've been trying for eight to twelve cycles without success. And your husband can have some tests run then as well."

"Right," you replied with a soft sigh, thinking about Bradley's exceptionally fucking awesome sperm once again. But you cracked a smile. "I'm already five cycles in, so halfway there."

She nodded. "You just give me a call if you need to."

You left the medical building, still adjusting your uniform and wondering how you'd lost so much weight without noticing. But your pants were feeling a little loose now. And so was your shirt. They were snug after your honeymoon. Had you lost fourteen pounds in just a few months?

When you reached your car, you closed your eyes and swallowed past the lump in your throat. You were not taking very good care of yourself. You could barely remember the last time you had lunch at work or ate something other than a protein bar for breakfast. Memories of lavish weekend breakfasts with Bradley filled your mind. You'd be perched on his lap, sharing one plate full of eggs, bacon, potato pancakes and grilled vegetables. When was the last time you did that? Spent an hour eating breakfast together with the occasional brush of Bradley's mustache along your neck?

You had to wipe your tears away as you unlocked your door and climbed inside. You started the engine as you pulled your phone out of your bag.

"No!"

Missed FaceTime call from RESTRICTED

"Fuck!" Your fingers were shaking as you tried to enter your passcode. Then you tried to call back. Not Connected. Not Connected. Not Connected.

You sat in your car and cried. You missed a call from Bradley. It must have been him. You missed it by seven minutes. And now it could be weeks before you got another opportunity to talk to him.

Panic rose in your chest. He probably thought you ignored him. "Roo," you sobbed, resting your forehead on your steering wheel. You missed him so much, you felt sick most of the time. You were counting down the days to the start of your period, and you could remember how he used to plug your heating pad in for you and bring you Tylenol. He used to rub your back and share a bottle of wine. You missed him, and you wanted him back home, doing all the silly little things he used to do. You knew how good things could be.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you looked at the missed call notification one more time. Then you turned your volume up to full blast. You'd take your phone everywhere from now on. You drove back to work with a sinking feeling in your chest. What if he didn't even bother trying to call you back again?

That thought stayed with you all day, and you had to force yourself to grab something to eat on your way back up to your office. You choked down a sandwich that tasted disgusting as you sat there alone.

You felt even worse the next day since you were barely able to sleep. And you knew you needed to eat something, but you couldn't even stomach any coffee. You headed right to work after you let Tramp out, and you didn't even make it to your lab before you ran into your boss.

"Meet me in my office, Lieutenant Commander," Captain Bickel told you. "I need you to look over some paperwork that came in from Annapolis on the overlapping project."

"Right now, sir?" you asked softly. Your body was practically trembling with anxiety.

"Yes," he replied, and your heart sank. You followed him down the hallway, each step harder to physically complete than the last. When you sank down into the chair across from his desk, he handed you a folder. Your hand visibly shook as you took it from him, and you were almost too nauseous to feel embarrassed. Almost.

Heat and sweat broke out on your neck, and the cool air gave you goosebumps. You could feel every little hair on your body stand up on end as you listened to your boss talking, but nothing was processing in your mind. That missed call had you in almost constant hysterics, and you didn't know who to talk to about it. Nobody would understand how much of a fucking big deal this was to you. You promised Bradley you'd always answer his calls. You promised him.

"Is that right?" Bickel asked you, his voice sounding muffled to your ears. "Lieutenant Commander? Is that right?"

You looked down at the unopened folder in your lap, and tears started to stream down your cheeks. It didn't even feel like you were crying. But you must be? It didn't make sense at all, but when you opened your mouth, you heard a choked sob as you tried to meet his eyes.

He was around the desk, kneeling in front of your chair immediately. "Hey," he kept saying over and over again, and you wanted to tell him to stop, but you just kept crying. There was soft pressure on the back of your hand where his palm was resting. You were still trying to meet his eyes, and when you finally did, he used your first name. "Are you okay?"

You sucked in so much air that it hurt your insides. Everything was uncomfortable and too quiet, and you could barely speak, but you managed to say, "I don't know."

So he just sat there with you as you gulped in more air that hurt while your head throbbed. It probably took you a long time until the weight of your body in the chair felt normal again, and you realized you were sitting in your own sweat. You were hungry and gross and you missed your husband. When your boss asked, "What can I do for you?" the only thing you could do right away was shrug.

But a few beats later, you managed to whisper, "Do you remember when Josh was here, and you asked me if I wanted to talk to someone?"

His face looked even more alarmed now, but you didn't have the energy to explain anything to him. "Yes," he replied, and he stood and reached for his phone. You clutched at Bradley's wedding band through the fabric of your shirt.

-----------------------------

"The better plan for a more efficient flight path would be to take out the communications tower first and then strike their base," Admiral Dean informed the group of aviators for about the hundredth time. Bradley could have drawn the terrain maps from memory by now. He also couldn't help but think that the admirals were making sure that Slayer, Charmer and the other children were keeping up with the plans. "But we'll decide on the day of the mission which tactical option is better. Any questions?"

"Sir, what does the terrain look like again?" Charmer asked politely.

"Very good question," Dean replied, and Bradley gritted his teeth. It was a fucking idiotic question, and the rest of the room know it. He could practically feel the rage rolling off of Phoenix. If anyone from Top Gun had asked that question, the admiral would have snapped. Plus, Charmer and Slayer had taken to referring to Nat as Honey, which almost sent Bradley through the roof every single time.

When everyone was dismissed for lunch, he was the first one out of the room, taking out his phone and opening it up to the notes app. Writing in the notebook from Bob every night had actually been more helpful than he expected, and occasionally he added a note to his phone so he would remember to write it down that night. He wasn't writing love letters exactly. They were more like little notes in which he was trying to describe how he felt about you. Trying to put into sentences everything he wanted to change, and also the things he wanted to stay the same.

But the notebook was for him. You didn't need to read it. He'd keep it and look at it when he got home and started trying to put his marriage back on track.

"Hey, Honey, you think you should be eating a sandwich instead of making me a sandwich?" Bradley looked up from his phone only to realize he had made it all the way to the dining hall. And Slayer was acting like a complete prick to Nat. She was the only female aviator on this detachment, which usually wouldn't have been an issue, but it was right now.

Bradley saved the note he had written, and he turned to Slayer and calmly said, "Do you know how to shut your mouth, or do I need to show you?"

Loud booming laughter filled the space between them. "Old man, you couldn't show me how to do jack fucking shit. Except maybe nail your dog of a wife with a limp dick."

Bradley was for a split second reminded of the last time you and he had sex, and he could feel his cheeks start to flush. The thing was, Bradley didn't really mind the attention being on him instead of Nat or Bob, but this is what seemed to make his best friend snap. Nat snatched his phone out of his hand and held up the lock screen, which was actually a photo of you from the honeymoon. In your red bikini. With your tits pressed together and a dirty little smirk on your face. Bradley snapped it about a minute after he finished fucking you on the deck next to the pool.

"Does she look like a dog to you?" Nat asked the guys, and their eyes bugged out. This was bad. "No, she does not. And I'm not your Honey. Stop harassing me. Stop harassing Rooster. And stop harassing Bob."

But Slayer was still laughing. "She's hot, old man. She's definitely fucking around behind your back. Doubt you can keep up. Hell, I'd nail her."

"Me too," Charming added as Bradley tucked his phone away in his pocket. And now Nat seemed to realize she shouldn't have reacted the way she did. Because Bradley was pissed. These fucking dipshits were really just the cherry on top of an already shitty deployment.

"Let's get out of here," Nat said, about to reach for his arm.

"I'm cool," Bradley snarled, even though he felt anything but. "Let's get some food." He picked up a tray and gripped it with white knuckles as he piled it up at random with food he didn't even really want. His mind was unfocused, and now he was thinking about how easy it actually would be for you to cheat on him while he was deployed. But that was a two way street, and he didn't want to open that horrible thought up inside of himself.

"I'm sorry," Nat whispered as the two of them found a seat while Bob meandered over like he was unfazed by everything. Because he probably was. He had invited Bradley to join him while he meditated each night before bed. At first Bradley thought it seemed silly, but perhaps he was actually onto something.

"Don't apologize, Nat."

"I shouldn't have taken your phone-"

"It's fine," he said, cutting her off. He was too tired to converse as he bit into his food. But it tasted like shit, so when he heard his name being called, he didn't mind the interruption. "I'm Bradshaw," he told the deckhand who was carrying an envelope.

"What's that?" Nat asked, leaning over his arm as he opened it and pulled out a handwritten note on thick, creamy paper.

"Holy shit," Bradley muttered. "It's from the commanding officer."

Her eyes bugged out. "As in the captain of the aircraft carrier?"

"Looks like it," Bradley replied as he read the note.

Lieutenant Commander B. Bradshaw,

You may use my personal communication device this evening at 2300 hours in my study.

Admiral Berry

He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but given the chance, he would absolutely try to call you again.

---------------------------------

You looked at Dr. Genevieve in her khaki uniform with her hair pulled up into a tight bun. She reminded you of your mom with her placid smile and sharp eyes. You were sitting in a soft, brown leather chair across from her, sipping some lemonade and eating the pretzel sticks Bickel gave you. And you already felt a lot better, although slightly embarrassed. But you were here now. And she was more than willing to talk to you.

"I... should have probably come here a few weeks ago," you said softly before taking one last sip of your drink.

"Today's a good day to talk," she replied, but she didn't rush you.

"Yeah," you said, nodding as you ran your palm down the arm of the chair in her office on base. "That's probably true. I'm... struggling? For lack of a better word? I guess?"

"That word is okay to use. But struggling is normal, Lieutenant Commander. It's something we all do."

So you took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. "I had a panic attack. In front of my boss," you groaned, covering your eyes with your hand.

She kind of shrugged. "That's a pretty safe place for that kind of thing."

"I guess so," you replied with a little laugh. But then your face fell as you played with a stray thread on your uniform shirt. "I'm afraid I messed up my marriage," you said, barely loud enough for her to hear. But when you met her eyes through your tears, you were certain she heard you. "And I want to fix all of it, but I don't know how."

And with a few words of encouragement from her, you let loose. If you had to guess, you thought you must have gone on for ten minutes without stopping. You told this woman everything, and with each passing sentence, it started to feel easier to keep going. She took a few notes, and asked a few followup questions, but ultimately she let you talk as much as you wanted to. About whatever you wanted to.

And even though you were exhausted and your uniform was uncomfortable, you felt so much better as you said, "I was getting my physical the other day. And I had so many questions for my doctor, and I've been so focused on trying to get pregnant. Apparently I lost weight. And I know I haven't been eating. And I think I can get better. Used to be a lot better. But when I finally thought to check my phone, I missed a call from Bradley. And I'm so afraid he thinks I didn't want to talk to him," you gasped as your voice cracked.

As the back of your head came to rest against the leather, you closed your eyes. You could just picture him and the way he smiled at you. The way he had always smiled just for you. And maybe you should feel more like crying right now, but you were just too fucking tired.

Dr. Genevieve waited until you were looking at her again before she asked, "You'd want to talk to your husband now? If you could have the chance?"

"Yes, but God... it could be weeks before he's allowed to call again. If at all." Just thinking about it had that cold, clammy feeling building inside you again.

"Hmm," she hummed. "You said he's on the Theodore Roosevelt?"

"Yep," you replied. "Good old, Teddy. He told me he's been deployed to that vessel more than any other," you said, feeling like you were at the point of rambling nonsense now. But at least your heart was no longer pounding behind your eyes.

"Well, I'll see what I can do."

After that, you left her office and Bickel dismissed you for the day. But Dr. Genevieve told you to keep your phone on you, and you promised you would. And perhaps you should have been mortified when you got home only to answer the door twenty minutes later for a delivery guy, but you weren't.

"I didn't order any food," you told him, but he just handed you two bags and left without asking you to pay. When you took the bags to the kitchen and emptied them onto the counter, you saw a receipt that said it had been charged to J. Bickel. "Oh," you gasped, and Tramp looked up at you. "Yeah, he's pretty chill," you informed your dog about your boss.

And then you cut the enormous sandwich in half and carried it to the dining room table along with the soup and salad. You ate until you couldn't physically take another bite, and then you got into a hot bath and stayed there until the water turned cool.

It wasn't even 6 o'clock when you got yourself into bed, but your belly was full and you felt clean. And it had been such a relief to talk to someone who you'd never met before about every dirty detail you'd been living with. Your chest didn't hurt as much, and you didn't feel as helpless.

You rubbed Tramp's belly, and just as you turned to plug your phone in, it started ringing. You gasped and dropped it on the floor. "Shit!" You almost fell out of bed as you scrambled for it. You'd caught a glimpse of Restricted Caller on the screen, but you wanted to make sure.

"Bradley?" you nearly shrieked as you answered the call and finally got to see your husband's face. "Bradley!"

"Baby Girl," he rasped, and you sank to the floor as you smiled and started to cry.

"I'm sorry," you said quickly as he shook his head. "I'm so sorry I let you leave without making sure you heard me when I told you I love you. Because I love you, and I miss you. And I'm sorry I didn't answer your call on Monday! But I was at my doctor's appointment!"

"Shh," he soothed, his eyes glued on yours as he shook his head again. "It's okay. I love you. And I don't need you to apologize for any of that right now. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm so sorry I let you down."

"Roo."

"I just need to know you still love me."

"Of course I still love you," you sobbed, wiping your eyes on his soft UVA shirt. "Bradley, I always will."

His eyes dipped down. "You're wearing my ring, Sweetheart?"

You nodded and reached for the charms and his wedding band where they hung. "Why did you leave it?" you asked in a tiny, pathetic voice. "I hate that you're not wearing your ring."

He gave you a funny look. "I am," he insisted, holding up his left hand for you to see.

"What's that?" you asked, examining something that was very much not his wedding band.

"The silicone ring I told you I was ordering. I actually hate it," he said with a laugh. "You look so beautiful."

"When did you tell me you were ordering a silicone ring?" you asked.

"I don't know," he murmured. "A month ago? I put it on the shopping list on the fridge and asked if you wanted one, too. God, you look so beautiful."

But you just stared at him before springing to your feet and taking your phone into the kitchen. "Oh," you gasped. The magnetic whiteboard was partly covered by a piece of paper, and the marker had gotten smudged, but there it was. Bradley's pre deployment shopping list. You had been so distracted lately, nothing was sticking in your mind when it should have been. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, Sweetheart," he said, and you looked back at your phone. "I wouldn't have left you without a ring on. Ever. And I can't wait to get back home and get the real thing off your necklace chain and put it back on my finger."

"You can't wait?" you asked, matching his little smile with your own.

"Of course I can't wait. I'm ready to come home now. I love you. Being away from you and feeling uncertain has been terrifying."

You couldn't believe how calm he sounded. Like he was just waiting to hear from you and see you, knowing everything would be okay. "I've been having a rough time," you said very softly as you walked back toward the bedroom. "It hasn't been okay."

He looked more concerned now. "We'll fix it," he promised. "As soon as we're together, we will fix it. No matter what it takes. You are my top priority. And that's never going to change. You understand?"

"Yeah," you whispered as you climbed back into bed.

"If you're not happy with me, then I need to try harder and do better," he promised. "Until there's no doubt in your mind about how much I love you. And I don't need anything else."

There was an unspoken undertone of how the two of wanted and had been trying for a baby. But you didn't want to be the one to say it. "You're sure you don't need anything else?"

He nodded and said, "I'm sure, Sweetheart. I'd be lucky to get to spend the rest of my life with you. Just you. Me and you."

You felt calm in a way you hadn't been in months. It felt like you were melting back into your pillow as Bradley said, "Now why don't you tell me how you pulled this one off. Because I'm sitting in the Commanding Officer's quarters right now, using Admiral Berry's personal iPad."

You laughed, realizing he was sitting in front of an elaborate looking bookshelf as he smiled at you. "I think Admiral Berry is married to Dr. Genevieve Berry." And when you told him you had a panic attack at work and talked to a therapist on base, your husband said he was proud of you for taking care of yourself.

"I haven't been though, Roo," you whispered sadly as you burrowed down in the blankets. "Not really."

"I'm the one who hasn't been taking good enough care of both of us. I promise that's going to change when I get home. I need it to, and you deserve it."

Your body shook slightly with a quiet sob, and you nodded. "My period is going to start soon."

"Okay," he said softly. "We're not worrying about that right now. But I wish I was home to plug in your heating pad and rub your feet."

"Me, too. I love you." It felt so good to say it to him. His lips parted like he had something to say, then you saw him look to his right.

"Right, absolutely," he said to someone off screen. "No problem."

When he was facing you again, you asked, "You have to go?"

"I do," he confirmed with a frown. "But first, can you promise me a few things?"

"Yes."

"You'll make sure you're getting enough sleep and eating enough? And talking to someone if you feel like you're struggling?"

"I promise. And, Roo? If you call and I don't answer, it's because I couldn't, okay? I always want to hear from you."

He smiled and exhaled in visible relief. "I understand. I love you. See you in a few weeks."

------------------------------

Can we...can we breathe a little bit now? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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enmstorytime · 1 month ago

Text

The Christmas Party

As you park in front of your best friend's house, you review his text about the party. There's the date (today), the time (it started fifteen minutes ago), the address (you're in the right place), the guest list (the local gay brunch group of about fifteen gay men), and there's nothing in the message about bringing gifts. You feel a little guilty about not bringing gifts, but it's been a financially tight year. You have a gift for your best friend, but you've made other plans closer to Christmas to exchange gifts.

The party is already in full swing when your best friend lets you through the door. The drinks are flowing, a group is sitting in the front room playing MarioKart in the light of your best friend's Christmas tree. The other half of the group is seated around the kitchen table, chatting and drinking.

"You're late, as always," your best friend says, giving you a quick hug. "But I'm glad you could make it."

"I wouldn't miss it," you say.

"You can put your Dirty Santa gift under the tree," your best friend says.

Your heart skips a beat. Your friend hadn't told you anything about a game of Dirty Santa.

"Don't tell me you forgot," he says shaking his head.

"I didn't forget," you say. "You never told me there would be Dirty Santa."

"I'm sure I did," he says, scratching his beard and looking thoughtful. "Didn't we talk about it last time we got coffee?"

"No," you say, trying to rein in your frustration. "I'd remember."

"It was at the group coffee the Sunday after Thanksgiving."

"I was out of town that weekend," you say. "Remember?"

"Oh yeah," he says, and an impish grin crosses his face. "That makes way more sense why you wouldn't remember the conversation. It was a very memorable conversation."

"Planning Dirty Santa?" you ask, rolling your eyes. "It was that memorable."

"Did someone forget to bring a gift?" Your best friend's boyfriend appeared out of nowhere, and he had the same impish grin.

"He sure did," your best friend says.

"I didn't forget," you say, your anger building. "No one told me to bring a gift."

"That excuse won't save you," your best friend's boyfriend says.

"We could be nice," your best friend says, in a voice that clearly implies that he did not intend to be nice.

"Okay, just tell me," you say, tired of the back-and-forth.

"Well," your best friend says, after a moment of significant eye contact with his boyfriend. "We all agreed that if anyone forgot to bring a gift to the party, their gift would be their clothes."

"What?" you ask, your heart pounding.

While you'd been part of this group for a little over a year, you'd only been seen naked by a couple of the men in the group, who you'd hooked up with early on.

"It's why we didn't remind anyone about bringing gifts," your best friend's boyfriend says. "We all agreed that it would be more fun if there was the risk that someone could forget."

"What if I say no?" you ask.

They both look at you with an expression that tells you clearly that you can either play along or you can leave the party.

"It's not all bad," your best friend says. "The gift limit is a hundred dollars. You might have to flash a little skin, but you'll leave here with something nice."

"And without your clothes," your best friend's boyfriend said, earning an elbow in the ribs from your best friend.

You swallowed hard. The Christmas party was always a highlight of the year. Besides, maybe, a small, brave voice inside of you thought, it could maybe be fun. You'd spent the past year working on your body, and while you weren't an Instagram model, in the right lighting, your abs were visible.

"Alright," you say, your voice cracking. "I'll do it."

Your best friend's eyes widen with surprise, but his grin tells you that he's pleased and surprised. His boyfriend just grins stupidly at you.

"Everyone gather round," your best friend's boyfriend says. "It's time for Dirty Santa."

Your heart skips another beat. Dirty Santa is usually at the end of the night, and you're still standing in the doorway in your coat and shoes.

There's a brief uproar as the MarioKart group complains that they're in the middle of a tournament, and for a brief second, you allow yourself to hope that tradition will prevail and you won't have to strip naked at the very beginning of the party. But your best friend's boyfriend strips you of that hope.

"It appears someone forgot a present," he says to a raucous cacophony of gay men ooooohing and making lewd comments.

Any debate about the MarioKart tournament had ended. And before you could even process what was happening, you were sitting in a circle with fourteen of your best friends, comtemplating the fact that in moments, you would be stripped naked.

"Should someone be putting their clothes under the tree?" one of the MarioKart players asked the question that was on your mind.

"I don't think that's fair," your best friend's boyfriend says. "Everyone else gets the chance to unwrap their gifts. I think it's only fair that whoever gets the gift of clothing, gets to unwarp their gift too."

Another raucous cacophony, as your face turns beat red, and to your horror, you feel a rush of blood in your cock. The panic built as you imagined one of your friends stripping you naked to reveal your penis at full length, evidence that you were enjoying this.

And to your horror, you were enjoying this. Your boner could not be willed away.

There was a brief debate over who should be the first to choose their gift. Your best friend was ultimately chosen as the host of the party.

He stood and walked to the tree, making a big show of looking through all of the presents under the tree, while the rest of the men begged him to come to you. He looked from the tree to you.

"It's already going to be one of our most memorable Christmas parties ever," your best friend says to the crowd. "Can you all wait any longer?"

The group shouted the word no, and your penis became the hardest it had ever been in your life.

"Then in the name of being a good host, I have to ask you to stand," he says, his eyes glittering as they meet yours.

You stand, and your best friend approaches you, thirteen of your friends looking on, including his boyfriend.

He gets close, almost chest to chest, as he reaches down, and undoes your belt, sliding it out from your belt loops. The audience is silent now, all eyes on the two of you. Your best friend is maintaining eye contact as he unbuttons and unzips your jeans, and pushes them down to reveal your underwear, a pair of navy bikini briefs. The crowd whistles and cheers.

Your cock is pressing the limits of the briefs, and everyone can see the complete shape of you, including a few of your more prominent veins. Your best friend's hand brushes your cock as he grabs the hem of your t-shirt.

Your body shudders as he pulls your shirt up to your chest, and you raise your arms to let him remove your shirt entirely. And now you are standing almost completely naked in front of everyone, your jeans pooled around your socked feet. Your underwear strained to its limits, your friends leering at your body, silent and hungry.

Your best friend kneels now, his face brushing against the front of your underwear, and your cock releases it's first drips of precum. He lifts your right foot, and tugs off your sock and your pant leg. He looks up at you as you lift your left leg unprompted.

"You're really enjoying this aren't you?" he asks, with the widest grin you've ever seen on his face.

You don't even have the ability to speak anymore, so you just nod, as he peels your left sock off, and finishes removing your jeans.

"Put your hands behind your head," he says.

You obey, letting out a moan you can't stop. He gathers up your shirt, your pants, and your t-shirt, and stands. He walks away from you to the front door, where he collects your shoes and coat.

You hadn't thought about him taking those too, but the fact that he is stripping you of any opportunity to cover yourself for the rest of the night is too much for you.

The orgasm happens hands free, your hips thrusting at thin air before you, and you are horrified and elated, as sticky rope of cum after sticky rope of cum pumps into your bikini briefs.

Your friends go nuts, but your best friend just smiles at you, as he sets your clothing down on the chair.

"Is everyone ready for the big reveal?" He asks walking across the room back to you, and placing his hands on your sticky, soaked briefs.

The room cheers.

"Before I take this underwear, I have a request," he says, breaking eye contact with you and looking at all of your friends. "Can we agree to not make this some competition of who ends up with his clothes? There isn't a present under the tree I want more than the physical memory of watching my best friend in the most pleasure I can imagine. Will you all please let me keep the present I've opened?"

A few people grumble, but ultimately everyone agrees to let your best friend keep your clothes.

Your best friend kneels down in front of you again, leaning to the side so as not to obstruct the view, as he slips your underwear down, revealing the root of your cock, then the shaft, the head, the balls, and then he lets go, and your briefs slide down your thighs and your calves, and they pool at your ankles.

He lifts each of your feet out of the last piece of clothing you brought to the party, and lifts the cum soaked briefs off his floor.

And there you stand, in the light of the Christmas tree, spent, and naked in front of all your friends.

#enm #gay #12 days of enm-mas

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captainsophiestark · 6 months ago

Text

We're Good

Kol Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: TVD/TO

Summary: Kol meets Davina and finally seems serious about someone, so his best friend convinces herself to finally let go of her secret crush. But when Kol gets jealous of her paying attention to another guy, what once seemed settled might not actually be finished.

Word Count: 3,092

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: Title is lightly inspired by the Dua Lipa song, although the fic doesn't totally fit it.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I tried not to scowl as I watched Kol from the second level of the Mikaelson compound. He was down on the dancefloor, in the middle of the latest party he and his family had decided to throw. I knew Nik or Elijah had some ulterior motive for hosting, but I hadn't cared because this time, I'd had my own ulterior motive. I'd put on my absolute best outfit and made sure I looked like a knockout, all so I could finally tell Kol Mikaelson, my longtime friend and crush, how I really felt about him.

And now, before I could, he was standing at the edge of the dancefloor trying to make a move on Davina Claire.

I should've known. Kol and I had been friends for a long time, and despite pretty regular flirty moments between us, he'd never taken any steps to make us something more serious. Instead, he flirted with, hooked up with, and even dated whatever mortal he'd most recently fallen for while I stood by pretending not to get my heart broken.

This time, I was done with it. For good.

I set my jaw and squinted, refusing to let the tears fall as I turned from the balcony. I almost made it into a hallway off the Mikaelson compound where I could disappear from everything, but of course, I couldn't quite get that lucky.

"He's a bloody idiot, you know."

Rebekah Mikaelson, my best friend in the world, stood before me with her hands on her hips, blocking my exit.

"Rebekah-"

"I'd love to have you for a sister-in-law, but you deserve better than one of my idiot brothers. As a boyfriend and as a friend."

"Bex, I don't want to hear it right now."

The sympathy on her face almost killed me, but she stepped aside. I thought that would be it, but then she called out to me just before I could turn the corner and escape this whole mess.

"Mourn all you like tonight, but tomorrow we're going out! There are plenty of men in this city to help you forget all about Kol!"

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

Rebekah gave me exactly one day before she started hounding me about going out on the town to forget her "idiot brother". And honestly, I might've ignored her, except for the fact that Kol spent the entire day after the ball with Davina.

I'd always known he was a flirt, but this time, he actually seemed to mean it. So I gave him more space than usual, for my sake as much as his, and spent more time wih Rebekah. We baked and went on walks, and after a while, I stopped shooting her down when she tried to drag me to bars. Kol kept hanging out with Davina, but slowly, seeing them together was starting to hurt a little less. I always thought if he found a girl to get serious about, it would be me. And a tiny little part of my heart still tore to shreds when I saw how wrong I'd been. But unlike those first few days, the heartbreak wasn't eating me alive anymore.

Which is how I ended up out at a bar with the entire Mikaelson family, dancing my heart out on the dancefloor without a second thought for whether Kol would join me.

We'd first started a montly tradition of the firve of us going out and just having fun a few years ago, and despite various dramas and the siblings scattering to the winds, we'd more or less managed to keep it up. We always picked a place a few hours from where any of us were living and planned to stay the night, so we could well and truly forget everything but having a good time together. Normally, I spent the night orbiting Kol, to the point that Nik usually had a field day giving me shit about it. Tonight had been a little different.

I'd joined Nik in dragging Elijah out of the house, gone with Rebekah to order all of us some truly strange, fun cocktails, and danced the night away on the dancefloor with all of them, without my mind or gaze constantly circling back to Kol. He didn't seem to even notice the shift, and I was surprised to find that it didn't really bother me. Kol was a good friend, after all, and with a little more time to process, maybe we'd even be better off.

"Hey!" Rebekah shouted into my ear, still barley making herself heard over the music around us. We'd been here for hours, but none of us showed any signs of slowing down just yet. "That guy at the bar has been staring at you all night!"

I turned to follow her gaze and found a handsome guy looking back. He smiled, a little sheepish, and I returned the gesture before whipping around to Rebekah.

"Why are you so fixated on setting me up with somebody?"

"Because it's fun! And I haven't got to do it once in all the time I've known you because you've been so hung up on Kol. So come on, let me have my fun!"

I made a face. I wasn't sure I wanted to take a chance on the random person Rebekah had found, regardless of me finally being over Kol. She huffed, then leaned in to speak in my ear again.

"Just trust me! I compelled him and asked him some questions, and he seems like someone you'd get along quite well with!"

I closed my eyes. "You compelled him, Rebekah? Seriously?"

"Well how else was I supposed to make sure he wasn't some sleezy werewolf or something? Go on, just talk to him!"

"Fine! Fine, but it's still our Mikaelson Family Fun Day, so I'm just going to talk."

"That's fine with me! Although I promise not to judge you if you don't come back to the room tonight-"

I picked up the nearest thing I could find (a stack of napkins) and hucked it at her, which she easily dodged. I did my best to ignore her laughing behind me as I headed for the bar.

The guy smiled as I approached him, and I smiled back. I headed for an open spot standing next to him at the bar, and he started speaking as soon as I came within hearing range.

"Hey! I've been hoping you'd come over and say hi all night."

I smiled. "Why didn't you come over and say hi yourself?"

"Didn't want to interrupt you and your friends if you didn't want to be bothered," he said with a shrug. "Although, that girl Rebekah tried awfully hard to get me to come over once or twice."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Rebekah loves nothing more than meddling, especially in my life." I paused. "I'm glad she convinced me to come over and talk to you though."

"So am I! I-"

He broke off at the same time as I felt someone slide up to the bar behind me, chest almost pressed into my back. I started to turn around to tell whoever it was to back off, but a familiar voice spoke up before I could.

"Why don't you go find someone else to bother, mate?" said Kol, his tone laced with the slightest undercurrent of a threat. Apparently, he'd decided to make sure he got what he wanted, because a moment later the guy whose name I hadn't even been able to get yet turned on his heel and walked away.

I rounded on Kol with a furious scowl, but he just grinned back at me, still very close and in my personal space. Normally, the proximity would've left me with butterflies, but right now all I felt was anger growing in the pit of my stomach.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I asked, an edge to my voice that I'd really never directed at Kol before. His eyebrows shot up, but otherwise, he didn't seem bothered.

"I was getting rid of that creep who was bothering you. Come on, darling, I thought you'd be thanking me-"

"Thanking you? Kol, he clearly wasn't bothering me! I came up to him, for God's sake!"

"Well I'm sorry, it just looked like you might want me to step in-"

"How? How did it look like that, Kol?"

My voice was getting louder now, enough that a few people were starting to take notice, but I didn't care. I was furious at my so-called friend and he was going to hear about it.

Kol cleared his throat. "Love, maybe we should take this somewhere else-"

"Knock it off with the pet names! Kol seriously, what the fu-"

In a split second, the bar disappeared around me. Instead, I found myself thrown over Kol's shoulder as he vampire-sped out of the bar. When we finally stopped, it was just inside the front door of the house we'd all rented, with Kol's back to me as he closed the front door.

I took my opening and hurled the nearest pillow at his head. It hit its target dead on, and I got halfway through picking up another one when Kol used his vamp speed to close the distance between us and grab my wrist.

"Hey! Knock it off, alright? What's the matter?"

"What's the matter? Are you kidding me Kol?" I wasn't sure whether I wanted to laugh, cry, scream, or all three, but I focused on the screaming part as I faced a bewildered Kol. "You absolute hypocrite, how dare you pull me out of that bar, and how dare youstep into my conversation like that!"

"What? Is this seriously all about me scaring off that one guy? You hardley knew him!"

"Obviously it's not completely about him, although that move still sucked, Kol! It's about you thinking you have some right to barge into my life and scare off a guy who might be interested in me! Because that's what it was, right? There's no way you thought I wanted him gone, so you did all this because you wanted him gone, right?"

"...I- I guess I didn't really like seeing him with you, but-"

"But nothing! Kol, we've had just a kind of flirty friendship forever. And whenever it seemed like we might be heading into something else, you were always the one to bail out. And last month, when you found Davina and got serious about someone else, it ripped my heart out. But I forced myself to take some time and get over it! Because that's your choice, and I care about you regardless of if you want to date me. But Kol, you have been clearly, specifically going after Davina lately. Which means you have absolutely no right to come tell some guy at the bar to back off when he's flirting with me."

"Darling, come on-"

I held up a hand to cut Kol off. The storm of emotions had finally started calming, hardening into something more manageable. I'd let myself struggle in this relationship without ever having an up front conversation for far too long. We were going to set some boundaries and have it all out, whether or not Kol wanted to. I was done with the rollercoaster ride.

"Kol, I know you call a lot of people 'darling', but if you want to stay friends with me then I'm going to need you to stop calling me that."

Kol just stared at me for a few moments, blinking and apparently processing everything I'd just said. His eyebrows knit together and he looked seriously distressed, but I refused to back down. After a moment, he took a half step towards me, his hand reaching out slightly towards my own.

"...And what if I don't think I want to be friends anymore, darling?"

I scoffed, another overwhelming wave of anger rising up and over me. I shook my head and turned around, walking a few steps away and hoping the space would help me cool down.

"You better not be flirting with me right now, Mikaelson, after everything I just said and everything you've been up to with Davina lately."

"Davina and I aren't together, love. We went on a few dates after Nik's little party, but we've hardly seen each other since then, and I don't intend to keep anything going. You might have noticed, but you started avoiding me after the ball and I had no idea why."

I turned to face Kol at last, scanning his face for any hint of something that might help me make up my mind on how to feel about all this. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile, and I scowled.

"I wish you'd said something earlier about this little crush of yours, honestly. I didn't think I had a shot in hell with you. It would've saved us both some time."

I shook my head, slowly at first and then much much faster. Before I completely realized what I was doing, I crossed the room and smacked Kol in the chest. He was one of the oldest vamipres to ever live, so it didn't have much of an impact on him, but it definitely made me feel better.

"Kol Mikaelson, you jackass! You do not get to use this as an excuse to confess feelings for me!"

He laughed, holding up his hands and clearly fighting a beaming smile. I slowly tapered off my assault, instead opting for crossing my arms and absolutely fuming at him.

"Seriously, Kol, this isn't funny. I show interest in someone else for the first time in our friendship, and all of a sudden you're dropping everything to come and confess feelings for me? You get why I don't feel like that's completely sincere, right?"

Kol sighed, the smile finally falling off his face. He moved to close the distance between us again, and this time, I let him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not joking because it's a joke to me, I promise. I've had feelings for you as long as I've known you, darling, but I didn't think I had a chance with you. And you've been important to everyone in our family for just about as long as we've known you. If I made things complicated, or made you want to stop spending time with all of us, my siblings would've literally killed me."

I snorted, looking down so Kol wouldn't see me fighting a smile off my face. No matter what, Kol always seemed able to make me smile when I least wanted to. Normally, it was one of my favorite things about him.

"What can I do, hm? What can I do to prove I mean what I'm saying?"

I sighed, crossing my arms and at last looking up at Kol. With wide eyes and no hint of the sardonic smile I knew so well, he looked more serious than I'd ever seen him before.

"...If you're really sure about this, Kol, that you really mean this...?"

"I do. Darling, I swear I do. I promise you, I won't waste the chance if you give me one."

"Okay, then prove it. I've never seen you go more than a week without flirting with some human, witch, vampire, werewolf, or whatever other sentient beings we come across. Make it a month, and maybe I'll believe what you said about being serious about this."

"...And will we be dating for that month?"

Slowly, I shook my head. "No. I want to, Kol, and I want that to be where this goes, but... I need to see that this is real first. I want to believe it is, so badly, but after centuries of meaningless flirting and dancing around each other without a conversation, of seeing you have flings every chance you get and watching each one of those burn out... I can't just take it on faith."

Kol sighed, glancing down at the ground before meeting my eyes again. He didn't say anything, just closed the little remaining distance between us as he brought his arms up to circle my waist. He pulled me to him, leaning down with a glance at my lips, and I didn't stop him as he pulled me into a kiss.

Fireworks exploded in my chest. My knees went a little week as I leaned further into Kol, resting my hands on his shoulders. After a few long moments, just as my common sense started returning to tell me what a mistake this was, Kol pulled back with a grin.

"Sorry, darling. But I couldn't wait a month to do that."

I snorted and shook my head, stepping carefully out of Kol's grip. He watched my every move with a smile, and my heart did a backflip when he licked his lips. I told my heart to calm the hell down.

"I... certainly didn't mind the potential preview," I admitted.

Kol laughed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at me.

"This is going be the longest month of my life... but if that's what it'll take, I'll make it through. I know it'll be worth it, especially now."

I rolled my eyes, but this time, I couldn't quite keep a smile off my face. Finally, my heart started returning to a normal pace, and I managed to meet Kol's eyes again without having a cardiac event.

"Alrlight, so... what do we do now? I don't know about you, but I don't particularly want to go back to the bar."

"Is that a joke, darling?" He raised an eyebrow at me, but I just shook my head. His mouth dropped open like he couldn't believe I was serious. "I may not get to do the activity I most want to do right now for another month, but I did just get my best friend back after extensive radio silence. We have so many episodes of our favorite shows to catch up on!"

"...You didn't watch them without me?"

"Of course not! Did you watch them without me?"

"Of course not!"

"Well then, there you have it! That's our evening. You make the popcorn, I'll turn on the tv."

I laughed as Kol turned on his heel, getting immediately to work. I still wanted to wait the month I'd made him promise; I still wasn't confident his romantic affections wouldn't wander. But despite all that, a massive weight lifted off my chest as I headed into the kitchen for snacks. I had my best friend back, and finally, after a ridiculous amount of waiting and dancing around each other and poor communication, we were actually getting a shot at our happy ending.

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

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TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

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