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earlgreydream · 4 years ago

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professor barnes.

| professor!bucky barnes x reader | smut | fluff |

don’t mind me, I’m fantasizing about bucky being my hot professor ✨

cw: this is obviously a professor au, so there’s that (please don’t hook up with your profs irl) and also like, slight innocent kink? but not really, mild degradation (not meant)

You were tapping your pen against your lips.

You were deep in thought, hanging off of every word your professor spoke. You listened intently, taking in everything Professor Barnes had to say about World War II history.

History fascinated you, but not near as much as your sexy professor did. James Buchanan Barnes was nothing if not criminally gorgeous. It was distracting.

You really did try to focus on history, but it was so hard when you were watching his soft, full lips move. Occasionally, he would run his fingers through his dark hair, his muscles flexing under the white button downs he always wore.

“Miss Y/N!”

You were snapped out of your thoughts, your pen falling from your fingers and clattering against your desk. It seemed to echo as all of the other students looked at you. Silver eyes bore into you, and you swallowed thickly.

“Professor? I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?” You asked shyly. He looked at you for a moment before sighing.

“I asked who the leader of the Soviet Union was during World War II.”

“Joseph Stalin,” you answered, feeling sick to your stomach at his irritated tone.

“Thank you. Let’s try to pay attention for the rest of the lesson, yeah?”

Your face burned in shame, and a few of the girls smirked at his scolding.

“Yes, sir,” you nodded before he went back to his lecture.

You took notes and kept your head down the rest of the lecture, your penmanship a bit messy from your shaking hands. You closed your notebook and put it away as he ended the lecture, and students rushed out, eager to get to their lunch breaks.

You realized you were the last one left, and you stood, making your way through the empty desks.

“Y/N,” Professor Barnes said your name, and you stopped.

“I’m sorry-” both of you said at the same time, and you bit your lip, letting him continue.

“It wasn’t my intention to shame you.” He finished, and you looked into his silver eyes.

“I’m sorry that I got distracted. I’ll pay better attention next time... I usually do.”

“I know, you’re exceptionally intelligent, Y/N.”

You blushed at the praise, and he offered a small smile, putting you at ease. You thanked him before leaving, thoughts of him filling your mind the rest of the afternoon.

James couldn’t stop watching you. He was lecturing on the USSR, but part of his mind was on you. The way you listened to him, careful not to let yourself get called out again for being distracted. He noticed how you tapped your pen against your pink lips whenever you were in thought.

His mind wandered to your lips around him, though he caught himself and cleared his throat, letting a student speak about their research on Soviet Russia.

When you stood up, you smoothed our your miniskirt that drove him crazy. He imagined yanking it down your legs and bending you over his desk, teaching you to pay attention.

He was drawn back to reality by your sweet smile as you said goodbye as you headed out for the day. The image of your smile stuck in his head, and he couldn’t get you off his mind.

Professor Barnes was the subject of your dreams. You woke up in the middle of the night, after your subconscious had imagined him with his head between your legs, eating you out on top of your desk before class. Your cheeks heated furiously, and you took a cold shower, scrubbing your fantasies away.

You fidgeted in your seat, second guessing your choice of wearing a tight v-neck shirt. You felt silly. You had paired it with a short skirt, all in the hopes that your hot professor would notice you.

But why would he? You were just one of many students attempting to grab a few extra seconds of attention. You were running over your choice of outfit in your head as your professor passed papers back to all of the students.

He laid yours on your desk, and you noticed the lack of letter circled at the top. You were about to stop him when you realized there was a sticky note on the second page.

Please see me in my office after class. JBB

You looked up at him, but he didn’t glance at you as he handed other students their papers. You noticed nothing was marked on your paper, and you suddenly felt nervous.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you walked to his office, stopping by the bathroom to give yourself a pep talk in the mirror. You were sure it was fine, you would’ve gotten an email if you’d truly fucked up, alerting you ahead of time, you tried to convince yourself.

You knocked softly on the doorframe, leaning into his office. It was small and warm, filled with well-loved books and scattered notes of a chaotic mind. It smelled like coffee and books and leather, and everything about the small space seemed inviting.

“Y/N, come in.” Professor Barnes stood up, waving me inside. I stepped in anxiously, pushing the door shut behind me before taking a seat in the chair opposite his desk.

“I saw your note, in my paper. Is something wrong? There was no grade on it, and I’ve been worried...” you confessed, looking up into his silver gaze. He walked around and leaned against the desk in front of you, his hands gripping the edge.

“No, nothing is wrong. In fact, your paper is practically perfect. It’s incredibly written.” His words surprised you.

As he praised you, he looked down at your chest, shown off in your tight, low cut shirt. He wondered if you knew what you did to him, the effect you had. He acted as if he were deep in thought, covering up the fact he accidentally looked at your body a little too long.

“Thank you, sir. I don’t know what to say, I had no idea,” you spoke, and calling him sir made his cock twitch, and his breath catch in his throat.

“Of course. I wanted to talk to you to see if you were interested in publishing it in the school’s academic journal.”

“Oh? I mean, if that’s an option, then yes.”

“I can submit it for you, you’d just need to sign off saying that you grant permission for publication.” He explained to you, and you nodded, signing the form he placed in front of you.

You blushed, thinking about how he was directly in front of you, his body stretched out, muscles on display with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Your entire body grew hot with embarrassment when he caught you staring.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” His voice was low and smooth, and you could’ve sworn he read your mind.

“Nothing, I’m...” You stammered, unsure of what to say.

“You’re what, fantasizing?”

Your eyes snapped up to him, and his confidence grew as he saw your thighs squeeze together, giving away your thoughts.

“Professor...” You must have misheard him, and he smirked at how flustered you were getting.

“Is that a yes?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you. Wearing these little outfits and teasing me.”

He knew.

James knew he won when he saw realization flood your face.

“I wear them for you,” you admitted shyly, trying to ignore the throbbing ache between your legs as he gazed down at you.

“That’s what I thought, doll.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your fingers.

“What do you imagine me doing to you, pretty girl? Do you think about me taking off these little skirts?” He asked you, trailing his fingers along the hem, brushing against your thigh. You inhaled sharply, your head spinning at the touch. You nodded, making him smile as he leaned over you. His lips brushed against your cheekbone, and you felt him smirk against your skin.

“Tell me what you dream about, doll,” he whispered, and by now you were practically shaking.

“Now you’re going to be shy?” James teased, amused by how easily he made you nervous.

He stood abruptly when a knock sounded on the door, and he leaned back on the desk. Your eyes were wide, and you sat frozen, in shock.

“I’m finishing up with a student!” He called through the door.

“I’ll see you soon, then?” He asked, and you nodded, your breath hitching as he gently touched your face. You stood, and he opened the door for the other student.

“I’m sorry, I was just hoping to talk about my grade?” A girl asked, in tears, and he looked like he wanted to harm her for interrupting.

“Yes, come in then.” His tone was impatient, and you lingered in the doorway. James said your name, holding eye contact with you for a moment before going back to work, and you walked down the hallway in a daze.

You couldn’t believe what had just happened. You felt like you were dreaming, your erotic fantasies coming true. You weren’t able to focus on your work, and you went home for the remainder of the day.

When it came time for his class again, you wore a short dress with little straps, wanting to show off as much as possible for him.

Your heart and mind raced as you entered his classroom, and you smiled innocently when his eyes fell on you. The silver darkened, and he watched you move to your seat, and you squirmed under the heavy gaze.

James watched as you uncrossed your legs, catching a flash of the lace beneath your dress. He sat down behind his desk, trying to collect himself and tear his focus off of you.

He was thankful that there was no lecture today, only a short quiz before he sent everybody home. You bit the top of your pen as you thought about the answers on the sheet below you, and Bucky studied your mouth. Your cheeks warmed, feeling the heat of his intense stare, adjusting slightly under the pressure.

Finally, you looked up at him, and leaned forward on your desk so more of your chest was visible. On purpose. He cleared his throat, making several students glance at him, and you had to make yourself bite back a smirk.

Everyone dropped their quizzes on his desk, leaving once they finished. You were the last one done, and you set yours on top of the pile.

“Would you like to finish our conversation from Monday in my office?” Professor Barnes asked you calmly, and you nodded.

He walked behind you, making you lead the way to his office. You knew he was staring at your ass, barely covered by the dress you wore, and you turned as you heard the office door close behind you.

You dropped your bag and hopped up to sit on top of his desk. He tossed his own bag aside and clicked the lock on his door, letting his eyes slowly move over your body.

“Y/N, what am I going to do to you? You wore this slutty little dress to distract me, didn’t you?” He teased, walking to stand in front of you.

“Yes, professor. Do you like it?” You looked up at him for approval, and his small laugh graced your ears.

His fingers went to the thin straps resting on top of your shoulders, grazing down over your breasts before tweaking your nipples through the thin fabric.

You squealed softly, feeling chills throughout your body as he lightly pinched you, toying with you through the dress.

“Are you sensitive, doll?” He asked, and you nodded, your cheeks rosy at your eagerness.

“I’ve been thinking about you, and not been able to do anything about it, and I’m all pent up.” You offered an explanation for your sensitivity, and his eyes nearly rolled back from the innocent way you spoke to him. He wanted to absolutely tear you up and ruin you, and make you fall apart at his touch.

“Let’s see if I can help then,” he slipped the straps off of your shoulders, the dress falling down around your waist.

At the sight of your bare chest in front of him, an audible noise of need left his throat. Your professor knelt down in front of you, wrapping his lips around your sensitive skin. Your chest rose and fell quickly with your heavy breathing, and his hand squeezed and fondled the side that wasn’t in his mouth.

“Please!” You were nearly desperate, feeling your arousal begin to drip down your thighs as you grew more and more needy.

“Tell me what you want, doll.”

“I need you to fuck me,” you didn’t care about the embarrassment anymore, and he smiled as he left heavy kisses down the column of your throat.

He couldn’t draw out the teasing anymore. He was painfully hard and the sight of you alone and your filthy words were driving him wild.

You had managed to undo the buttons of his shirt, revealing an incredibly toned chest, and he undid his belt, pulling it easily from the loops. He snapped it as he tossed it aside, and you jumped at the noise, making him smirk.

“Maybe we can try that another time,” he watched an anticipatory shudder ripple down your spine.

“Do I get an A for this?” You teased, undoing the button and zip on his pants, tugging them down along with his underwear.

“Very cute,” he smacked your thigh lightly in response, making you jerk at the touch.

He slipped the dress over your head, discarding it along with his own clothing, leaving you in just lace panties on his desk.

He traced his fingertips over the damp lace, making you squirm on the desktop. You rolled your hips forward, eager for stimulation. He hummed disapprovingly at the action, pulling his touch away.

His hands held your waist as he carefully laid you down on the cleared wooden desktop, and you looked up at the stunning man above you.

“Please don’t tease me anymore, professor. I want you to fuck my pussy, please,” you begged, and he removed the lace in one quick movement.

“Relax, doll, I’m going to take care of you,” James answered gently, kissing down your body.

He hands wrapped around your thighs and he pulled you so that you were at the edge of the desk, your feet on top of the surface so you were spread open for him.

He leaned down and connected your lips, consuming you in a deep kiss. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers lightly began to rub at your clit, making sure you were relaxed enough to take him in.

“I need you to be quiet beautiful, so all the students outside don’t hear those pretty screams for me.” He warned, kissing a line down your jaw.

“Yes, sir.”

“Fuck.”

You felt him brush his tip against your entrance before thrusting into you, and you struggled to adjust around him as he bottomed out. You held in a loud cry, arching your back, and pushing your chest up into his face as you did so.

Your breath hitched as he rocked into you, and he thrusted a bit faster, hitting all the deep places inside of you. He watched you struggle to ground yourself, your hands eventually holding his thick arms as he slammed into you repeatedly. You were smooth and tight around him, squeezing and contracting as he hit your g-spot.

“James, fuck,” the profanity tumbled from your pretty lips as his hips connected with yours. He wrapped a hand around your throat, keeping you down but not quite choking you.

The action caused you to spasm around him, and your hands wrapped around his wrist, keeping his hand around your neck.

“Do you like that? Do you like me holding you down by your throat? You dirty girl.”

“Yes,” you breathed softly under his grip, your thighs trembling weakly around his waist. You started to shake as waves of pleasure overwhelmed your body.

“Are you close?” He knew the answer, but he enjoyed seeing you fight to try to form words through the fucked-out haze that had settled in your mind.

“Answer me doll, or I’m going to stop,” James threatened, and you nodded.

“Yes, I’m so close!” Your soft whine was like music to him, and he dropped his free hand between the two of you.

He kept up his thrusts while playing with your clit, trying to pull your orgasm from you. He could feel your muscles tighten and threaten to snap around him, and you just needed a little help letting go. You were begging him softly, your eyes bleary as you cried for release. James wanted to feel you come around him, and was more than happy to help, squeezing lightly around your throat and pinching your nerves, the combination causing the pressure to snap. Your vision sparkled with color, electricity shooting through every nerve ending in your body. You threw your head back from the pleasure, and a hard thrust into your g-spot sent you spiraling into euphoria.

You came around him with a silent scream, and he struggled not to follow suit, and fill up your warm pussy. He released you as he felt you ride out the end of your orgasm, and he pulled out, coming all over your torso in several white ribbons.

You watched him in a daze, and once he finished, he gave you another quick kiss. You sighed softly, exhaustion starting to set in. His gentle smile made warmth spread over your body, and for a moment you forgot that you were lying naked on top of his desk.

He cleaned himself before cleaning you up, being gentle with you.

“Y’alright?” James asked, smiling at your soft yawn. You nodded, pulling the lace back up your legs and reaching for your dress. He handed it to you once you sat up, and helped you fix it.

Your fingers slipped the buttons of his shirt back in their holes, despite the fact that your hands were still a bit shaky. You felt all worn out, feeling like you could sleep for days and ride the dreamy feeling that was left in your mind.

He couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at his lips as you held his arm when you stood up, trying to steady yourself. You looked up at him shyly, and he placed his hand on your lower back.

“For the next time.” Professor Barnes said, putting his number in your phone before giving you a kiss.

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stephspurs · 3 years ago

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Hi besties!! here is the long awaited part 9!! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did whilst writing it!! a big thank you goes to @emwritesfootball for proofing this part & making sure its up to scratch for all of you lovely readers! Let me know what you think babes hehehe!! Love Always, Steph xx

Part 9. | nona parte

word count; 2006. writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Friday 13/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

The season kicked off in the middle of August and Amelia had been more than prepared for her first match in the premier league. She spent day after day analysing the players in the first team, introducing them to the magical world of rehearsed tactics. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for the brilliant girl; she had to learn how to implement the plays coupled with the speed of the game. But so far, so good. Chelsea have been winning and her plays have been working, the boys were getting the hang of it - no matter how apprehensive they were at the start.

Jorgi played a big part in demonstrating the success of the play, performing best in his midfield role to guide the game and direct the change in play to his teammates. By the time they had played a few fixtures, they had really gotten the hang of her approach to set pieces and began to put their trust in the young girl. They were starting to see results and wanted to keep the winning streak going while they could. The fourth fixture in the new season was one that Amelia was looking forward to, personally: Chelsea v Aston Villa, Stamford Bridge, 3pm kick off.

Jack and Amelia had grown closer and closer, FaceTime‘dates’ as Jack would call them, a weekly occurrence. She had spoken to him just as much as she had spoken to Jorgi - and they were still carpooling to and from Cobham together. Her friendship with Jack was full of easy conversation and flirtatious banter, teetering over the line of friendship but being that they were kept physically apart, the friendship line remained largely intact. One person that had drifted even further away from her, despite her believing that it couldn't be possible, was Ben Chilwell.

Every time she walked into a room that he was in, if he didn't have to be there he would immediately leave. Amelia didn’t understand what the problem was. Yeah sure, they were flirty together in Mykonos but they never crossed a line together, no matter how many times the wine went straight to their heads. If anything, she should be the one running away from him. She was the one who sent him a couple of messages here and there that he just opened. She spoke to Mason, Jorgi, Billy Gilmour - who was another one of the boys she had developed a strong friendship with - and all of them insisted they didn’t understand their friend's strange behaviour.

On the evening before the Villa match, Amelia was laying on the couch in her townhouse binge watching yet another docu-series on Netflix when her doorbell rang. This was strange, most people that came past the house these days had their own set of keys (her parents, her brother, Jorgi) or they texted to let her know they were outside. Her townhouse was three stories high, so if she was upstairs on the top level vacuuming the chances of her hearing the door were slim to none. Either way, she got up off of her loveseat and walked to the front door, peeking through the peephole - she lived in London, alone, she wasn’t opening that door until she knew exactly who was on the other side.

______________________________________________________________

“To what do I owe this visit, Benjamin?”

“Hi, Mils.”

“Wow, nickname basis already - I thought only friends called each other by their nicknames.”

“Did you think we weren’t friends?”

“Well, friends don’t treat friends the way you’ve treated me since the evening I left Mykonos.”

With a sigh, Ben looked down at his feet. I did feel a small bit of guilt for that one, but he deserved it. Continuing to find the cracks in the marble step of my door’s threshold more interesting than facing my expression, I took a step back and forced Ben to look up at me.

“Well, are you going to come inside? I’ve got the kettle on and a really good series going that I would like to get back to.”

With a charming smile, Ben took a step forward, took the door handle out of my hand and shut it behind him. Slipping out of his shoes, he followed me down the short hallway to my kitchen and pulled a seat out at the island bench.

“So, really now - why are you here? Nervous about tomorrow?” I questioned as I took two cups out of the cupboard and brewed one tea for him, one coffee for me. 3 years in Italy and coffee in the evening became the norm for me. It was my comfort drink.

“I’m here to apologise for the way I've been acting towards you for the past six weeks. I’ll be honest, I don’t know why I’ve been like this”

“Cut the crap Ben, you know exactly why you’ve been doing it. Now tell me the truth or, as far as I'm concerned, you never came here tonight and tomorrow we will be back to how we were yesterday - you running away from me and me pretending that it doesn't bother me. Even though all it does is bother me.” Not expecting that outburst to come out of me, and to be fair neither did I, Ben looked me in the eye and stayed silent, choosing his next words carefully.

“The first time I saw you, the night you told your brother off in the rec room at St. George’s Park, I thought you were the most determined woman I had ever seen in my life. Not scared of the 30 grown men who were very obviously all on the same side, literally. Then the next time I saw you, after the final match, how you comforted your brother when you were at the highest of highs and he was lower than low, I thought you had more compassion than every person in that stadium put together.”

“When you came to SGP again the next day and delivered the tactical analysis of the game you won, I thought ‘wow she is so intellectually brilliant’. And then when you turned up in Mykonos, all sunkissed and relaxed, sitting next to me and involving me in conversation with my pals but making me feel like you wanted my contribution...I remember it like it was yesterday. Amelia, you smiled at me and my heart did a somersault in my chest.”

“You shut me down outside the club that evening, and when we came back inside I caught the end of your conversation with Jorgi about Fede. Putting two and two together, I understood all that I needed to. The few days after that we carried on like normal. Then, you left and I didn't know if I would ever see you again to be fair. When you messaged me, I got too nervous to reply because I didn't know how to just be your friend. And then when I thought I had finally gotten through a day without thinking about my friend's little sister, you showed up at Cobham as my tactical analyst. I didn’t know what to do Mils, I don't know how to be just your friend when I've had nothing but unfriendly thoughts about you since the first time I saw you command that room of men you had never met in your life.”

The whistle of the kettle ringing out behind me is the only noise filling the kitchen. I’m staring at Ben; he’s staring back at me with nothing but truth behind his eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

“Benj, what you were feeling, what you are feeling is totally valid and I never want you to feel like you can’t share those feelings with me. You’re right, Mykonos changed things for me. What you were feeling was reciprocated, but Ben, I was going back to Italy. At that exact moment, I had no idea I would end up here. I thought I was enjoying a break before another high-intensity season in Italy. I wanted to kiss you so badly at the club that night, but I knew it would only hurt you. I’m used to being hurt, it's a feeling I've grown to expect. But you, you’re too pure to experience the kind of hurt that comes along with knowing you’re making a bad decision, but doing it anyway, because I wanted to be selfish with your heart.”

“Amelia, can I ask you something?” I nodded, holding my breath as I braced myself for the question poised behind his eyes. “If you were in the mood to be selfish, what would have come from that evening?”

“I can probably show you better than I can tell you,”

Walking around the island bench, I pulled the back of Ben’s chair slightly so he pivoted towards me. Standing in between his tracksuit-covered legs, I ran both hands up his arms until I got to his neck and finally beside his face. Threading my fingers through his hair, I pulled his face towards mine and our lips met. It was as soft as a butterfly kiss but as powerful as anything I had ever felt before. His hands wound around my waist and settled themselves on the small of my back before travelling down and giving my backside a gentle caress, forcing a laugh out of my lips and straight into his mouth. Pulling away slightly, so we both had a bit of breathing space to sort out our lightheadedness, Ben spoke his next words very softly.

“I need you to promise me something, Amelia.You need to promise me that you will stop thinking about my heart before your own. I am old enough to make my own decisions, and the decision to ignore you for these past few weeks has been one of the worst ones I've made in a really long time. But I did make it, and it was because I got scared, and I hurt you, and I am so sorry. The decision to come here tonight however, I feel like it more than makes up for that one very very stupid one”

“You’re such a smooth talker, Benj.”

“Say my name again, Mils, you don’t know what it does to me.”

“Down boy, your tea is going cold and I need to find out who killed Sophie in West Cork.Meet me in the lounge.”

A few hours had passed and it was nearing 10pm, well past Amelia’s bed time, but Ben was still sitting on her couch, feet on the table (despite her telling him to remove them) and arm around the back of her shoulders.

“Chilly, I don’t want you to think I'm not interested in you because I so am, I just don’t want to rush into anything. What I left behind in Italy was complicated and heavy; I'm still trying to learn how to exist without him if I'm honest. I want you to just give me the space I need to grow into my own here in the city, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it's okay, Mils. From what Jorgi has told me about Fede, I can understand why you want to take it slow now. But please, don’t call me Chilly. My friends call me Chilly, and Mills. I thought I made it clear before that I don’t want to be your friend.”

“To me, you’re Benj. Thank you. Wait - what do you mean what Jorgi has told you about Fede?”

“I may have asked a couple times about you, and for the record, he is team Bamelia.”

“Bamelia? That is the ugliest word I have ever heard. Never use it again.”

“How can it be ugly? It's mostly your name, and nothing associated with you could ever be considered anything less than beautiful.”

“Stop being so smooth Benj, you’re going to make me blush in a minute.”

“Good, can’t wait to see how you could possibly look even cuter than you do right now.”

“That’s enough Benjamin.”

“Okay I’m done now.”

Part 10. | parte dieci

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wyn-n-tonic · 4 years ago

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Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IV

Word Count: 1,925 Warnings: PTSD. Drug use. Ben Affleck. Panic attacks. Bullet wounds. Smut (not explicit but it's there). A/N: Your kind words mean literally everything to me and I have been sobbing between the warmth shown to me over this series and also how much I love Francisco Morales and want the absolute best for him.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

Gif by: @uuuhshiny

Luna hasn’t stopped wailing since Sunday, the one and only day Frankie said he wouldn’t be able to call.

It’s Thursday and both their lungs are close to giving out.

One Morales woman hyperventilating herself into fitful sleeps, the other only sobbing through held breaths in stolen lonely moments of peace and quiet.

Kristyn had taken up residence in the spare room, making sure Leah slept and ate. She was the one who cashed in Leah’s sick days with the school, forging a bullshit sick note when she went into work.

Leah is currently distraught because her husband might be dead in South America, we don’t know.

That’s what the first one said, dashed out on the keyboard in a petty moment of frustration. She might be the only one of Leah’s sisters who didn't want to lob his fucking head off every time she shed a tear but it didn’t mean she never wanted to do it.

Patient is suffering from a prolonged migraine and intensive nausea. Follow up appointment scheduled for next Thursday at 9am.

That should fucking do it but she’ll have to start checking off the vacation days soon. Dip into family leave for Luna.

Alexa held her on that first Monday, talking her through the panic in a puddle of spilled coffee. The paper cup splashing across their knees in the hallway as concern emanated from the AP Lit room at their backs.

Somewhere at the base of the Andes, her husband was being pried out of a crashed helicopter by the only other men she’d ever truly loved. William was shot, Benny was reckless. She felt it all in her body as she was driven home, helped into the shower, held in her bed but not by the arms she craved.

“He's coming home,” Deana brought dinner that night, her big sister cutting into her steak like she was a child at risk of choking again, “he will do anything he can to make sure of that.”

“What if he doesn’t, D?” Leah’s taken on the stare, everything and nothing all at once, “what if he doesn’t come home this time?”

“I promise you, Lee, okay?” She reaches out to push aside hair damp with tears, “I've never seen a man so in love.”

“Yeah…” she’s quiet, “he promised me too.”

And she told him to stop making promises because he doesn’t keep them.

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

The tears well over her eyes, spilling onto already salt stained cheeks.

He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He poured his entire being into her, drunk off the feel of their bodies together. She could feel him in the hollow of her ribs, an aching that called out for the comfort of his beating heart against hers again.

Would that be so bad?

She sobbed out, startling Luna’s own ragged cries again, afraid that she would never know warmth against her cold hands again.

—————

“Hey,” they're huddled against the onslaught beneath a barely-there cliff, labored breathing in tandem, “you still with me?”

Frankie’s panic attack came on slowly, a rolling storm in the distance the moment the helo crashed in the valley.

Bad landing.

His fight or flight response has his lungs in a vice grip but he still manages a laugh, “I think I should be the one asking you that.”

“You know it’s gonna take a lot more than a stray bullet to fuck me off,” he’s smiling but Frankie knows how much blood he’s lost, how long it takes for a wound like that to clot without medical intervention.

It’s true, it’ll take a lot more than a stray bullet to take William Miller but that was before, when they had back up. Out here, though? Surrounded by his brothers in arms? Having done what he just did?

Francisco Morales has never felt more alone.

“Fish,” William hits his knee against his, “where are you?”

His eyes refocus on the tepid water pounding all around him, the world coming back as he takes a deep breath, “are you afraid, Will?”

“You gotta be more specific, Frank, I’m terrified of everything.”

He’s quiet when he speaks, “me too,” barely above the downpour.

He sees Will nod in his peripheral, “I know.”

“Will, I’m afraid I’ll never see them again,” and when he chokes, he realizes he’s been crying.

“No, you can’t think like that.”

“I know, but I can’t stop it either, like…” trailing off, he lifts his face to the pressure of the water; it’s the sweetest thing he’s felt in days, “what if this is the last shower I ever take?”

“Fish…” Will reaches for him but he’s cut short.

“No, listen to me. If anything happens to me out he—“

“Nothing is going to fucking hap—"

“Shut up and let me finish,” his rage and sadness is burning hot through him, it takes everything within his being not to choke on air as he speaks again. “If anything happens to me out here, Will, take care of my girls. Please.”

The blond nods his head, heavy with exhaustion and pain, “until the very end of my life, Frankie.”

The relief that spreads through his body is better than any drug he ever tried, he feels himself slipping into an upright sleep, his heart at peace for the first time since he left his bed.

“But,” Will’s voice catches him on the edge of consciousness, “I would also face down the end of my life to make sure you see them again, do you understand me? If the only thing standing between you and a bullet is me, don’t fight. Leave me there and run like hell. You’re going back to your family.”

“But if I don’t make it…”

“Fish,” Will's laugh is drenched in the space between them, “are you saying it’s your last will and testament for me to marry your wife?”

“Fuck off,” his words are clipped, strained, “and don’t call me Fish.”

—————

They still, eyes up to the screen of the baby monitor as they hold their breath for another sound from Luna’s room. The baby settles back into silence, her small chest rising and falling on the grainy feed.

He remembers Leah opening the military grade surveillance equipment at the baby shower, the shake of her laughter as she held onto Benny’s shoulder to anchor herself to the chair.

“Should we check on her?” It’s small, a rushed question of a concerned mother.

“I said a baby monitor, Benjamin, not a prison security camera.”

“Absolutely not,” Ben grabs her hand, “This is better than any of that shit you’ll find at Target. Video means there’s no wondering either, you can just look up and assess the situation, more rest. That’s important, you’ll need to savor the little that you get.”

He pushes a lock of hair from her face, damp with the tears of the day and the sweat of the night, “no, baby, we don’t want to disturb her.”

“Yeah,” Will chimes in, his beer bottle held loosely in his hands, “Frankie should’ve been training you on sleep deprivation this whole time, you’re spec ops yourself now.”

“But what if she wakes up?”

“Well…” the corner of his mouth lifts to close the fan at the corner of his eyes, “it’s a good thing she can’t see us through that thing, right?”

“Francisc—“ the irritation of his name is finished in a heady moan lured from her body by another slow drag of his hips.

The crook of his nose slots against hers as he finds her lips again, the warmth of the room around them is nothing compared to their mouths on each other. Bathing in shared heat, her fingers entwine into the curls at the crown of his head, the other hand palm up to his chest. And as the beating of his heart races towards her burning touch, he submerges himself once again.

His firm grip holds the hinge in her leg, fingers digging into the sensitive skin that fills her lungs with fits of laughter and light. He braces himself against the bed, the aching in his forearm dulled by the soft, breathless whimpers intoxicating his entire being.

His voice is washed out when he finds it, “mi sol,” lips dragging across her own, “mis estrellas.”

Her eyes find his, heavy with admiration and trust. “Francisco,” she is drunk and drowning in the love of this man, “finish me.”

He shifts to cradle her jaw and as he trails his other hand up her thigh, he sinks within her once more. Finding his release against her own, he is convinced they’ll never be able to fully untangle again.

He presses a kiss to her nose.

My sun.

Her forehead.

My stars.

Her lips.

My whole sky.

—————

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

He snaps back to reality, Santi and Tom’s voices echoing all around them.

His head is hot, he’s pushing past Will with concern set so deeply in his eyes he fears he’ll break right there.

Would that be so bad?

“Fucking bullshit!” Tom’s face is red, Santi having finally said what all of them are thinking.

He feels the weight of Leah in every fiber of his being, slotted perfectly against his body.

“We're all on the hook for this, are we not?”

I should’ve said no.

“God damn this fucking horse! Stop it!”

All those years blinded by loyalty to authority, Frankie never talked back to his leader but the man in front of him isn’t a leader. He’s a whiny child who’s lost his toys and Frankie hates him.

Biting back what he wants to say, he holds his hand up in a show of camaraderie, “Relax.” His finger quirks up as if he’s scolding a tantrum, “Relax. We’re not picking at the fucking scab right now, okay?”

Tom stares him down, like he’s weighing an argument against him too but Frankie’s done. He meets the taller man’s gaze, this man he would’ve died for.

“One foot in front of the other. Come on.”

This man he almost has died for.

“Let's go. Jesus fucking Christ.”

His true allegiances don’t lie to this man anymore or the gun at his hip. Not the money or the mules. He left that splintered fantasy about twenty feet back.

He’d throw this man over if it meant going home right now.

The money too.

None of it is worth a goddamn thing to him if it means he’ll never see the way that the light bounces off the gold in Leah Morales’ eyes ever again.

The same honeyed flakes in the brown of his daughter’s bright gaze.

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He wanted to pour his entire being into that woman, ensure that he would live on if lost to the Colombian jungle off a narco's bullet.

Would that be so bad?

He was scared but, truly, would it be so bad?

But it would be because he could truly leave her with nothing. No money, no husband, no father to her babies.

He lost count of the days he hadn’t called.

He makes his way up the mountain, following Tom’s bitching, wishing it was Leah leading him home instead.

#i believe in francisco morales supremacy #frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #fanfic #fanfiction #santiago 'pope' garcia #santiago garcia #william 'ironhead' miller #benny miller #pedro pascal #ofc #oc #original female character #original character

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dont-be-ugly · 3 years ago

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The Five Times Y/N teased Bucky, and the one time he finally got back at her

Summary: Part two of Angels and Bar Accidents. Y/N and Bucky are forced to stay at the tower alone for a week, while the rest of the Avengers go out on various missions, vacations, and family reunions (for the alive family members, of course).

MONDAY

They didn’t notice the absence of anyone until it was to late. There was a note on the table stating everyone had went out on various things, and the first to be back home would be Tony. They had the whole tower to themselves. Y/N was walking around in one of Bucky’s sweaters, and short shorts, with her hair pulled back, while Bucky was sitting eating with no shirt and jeans.

Y/N was humming ‘Rasputin’ quietly, while searching the cabinets for something. “What are you looking for, doll?” Bucky asked. “My lollipops. I want something sweet, but not to sweet.” She answers, standing on a stool, trying to reach the top shelf. She sighs, her wings fluttering softly. The area was to small for her 10ft wingspan, and she couldn’t quite reach the top shelf with her 5ft 3in self.

“Bucky.... could you help me?” she sighs, yet again. “Sure thing, doll” Bucky laughs. He walks over to where the young girl is, and grabs her lollipops with ease. “You really are a doll. Cute, innocent, sweet, and small.” He teases. “Rude!” She exclaims, handing him a blue raspberry lollipop. “Thanks” he says, unwrapping the wrapper, and setting the it on his tongue.

“No problem!” She smiles, grabbing a watermelon lollipop. She unwraps it and sets it in her mouth. She continues humming, as she walks over, and sits across from where Bucky’s seat was, muttering something about innocence. She absentmindedly scrolled through Twitter. She had her hand on the stick of the lollipop, twirling it around her mouth.

Bucky sat down, watching Y/N silently. He was staring more specifically at the lollipop in her mouth. He knew she was doing it absentmindedly, she needed to keep her hands on something (wink wink) but she was also teasing him. She didn’t notice, of course. But she was. Y/N felt his eyes on her and looked up. “Can I help you?” She giggled, now noticing what she was doing. “In more ways than one.” He replied, seriously.

She smirked, got up, and walked over to Bucky. “Too bad.” She gave him a kiss, him tasting watermelon, her tasting blue raspberry. She pulled away, and skipped off, knowing this would rile him up.

If only he got his hands on her.

TUESDAY

Y/N was usually neutral when it came to heat and being cold. So, when the next day rolled around, she had to switch from sweater, to crop top, just to avoid the scorching heat. She sighed, before getting the best idea. She knew she was absentmindedly teased him yesterday, and played into it, so why not mess with him today?

Y/N knew teasing Bucky was dangerous ground, but adrenaline kept her from stopping. She had only ever teased him once purposely, and that lasted three days. She slipped on her favorite dark red crop top, it was almost see through, lacy, and sleeveless. Perfect combo.

She walked in the kitchen and grabbed a popsicle, opening the wrapper, before heading out to the training room. Bucky was training, as per usual, not paying attention until he heard the close. “Hey doll.” He said, walking over to her. He went to hug her but she slipped past him. “Don’t touch me, you, babe, are very sweaty. Sweat is gross.” She makes a disgusted face. “Fair enough.” He chuckles, and heads back to the punching bag. Y/N watches, licking and sucking on her popsicle.

He doesn’t notice at first, but eventually catches on. “You’re walking in dangerous ground, doll. Stop teasing me.” He says seriously. Y/N just smirks, turns around, and walks off, purposely swaying her hips a little more than usual. She waits just by the door, and laughs when she hears the frustrated noises coming from the room.

If only he got his hands on her.

WEDNESDAY

Today was accidental. Y/N was wearing one of Bucky’s shirts, with no shorts underneath. Bucky had it planned, where she would attempt to get a lollipop, which was in a new cabinet, on the highest shelf, and had to ask him for help.

She fell almost into his trap. Almost. Here she was, standing on the all-to-familiar stool, reaching for her lollipops, the shirt lifting, and leaving almost nothing to his imagination. He silently shifts. She turns around and steps down, now looking at Bucky’s frustrated face. “Like the view?” Y/N laughed.

“You’re teasing me again.” Bucky wines. “Whoops.” And with that, she walked out.

If only he got his hands on her.

THURSDAY

They had gotten an invite from Tony, who was still on vacation, to a gala happening the Monday after he gets back. That meant Y/N had to try on dresses. And had to get someone’s opinion. She had been lucky to slip out of his grasp, but he was getting more and more riled up about it. They both knew that when he fought Y/N, she would never tease him like this again.

“Last dress, I promise!” She pipes, walking in the kitchen. It was a gold dress, that went to her upper thigh, cut out holes on the sides where her hips where, thin straps, and a V neck that left little to anyone’s imagination. He sat, jaw dropped, admiring his girlfriend’s figure.

“I take it you like it, huh, Buckaroo?” She giggles. He clears his throat, standing to approach her, but as soon as he gets 10ft away, she runs.

If only he got his hands on her.

FRIDAY

Y/N had somehow managed to, not only avoid being near Bucky for to long, but convince him to go swimming with her. He was overly frustrated, and her in a swimsuit didn’t help. It was a dark red bikini, laced around the edges, thin straps, and was somewhat see through.

He had managed to keep a straight face for five minutes, before he finally broke. He grabbed Y/N, careful to to hurt her. “I forgot my wallet at the tower. Could you teleport us?” He lied. He felt bad lying to her, but she had been teasing him all day for the past four days, today the fifth. He wouldn’t let her escape this time.

“Yeah, sure.” She teleported them back, and before she could run, he had his hand around her neck, and her pinned against the wall. He squeezed slightly, but not enough to hurt Y/N. “You’ve been teasing me doll. All. Damn. Week. And I’m not going to escape for a fifth time. Now, will you behave? Or will I have to add to your punishment?”

#Bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #angel!reader #winged!reader

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chubbyreaderchan · 4 years ago

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Technically No | Jacob Black x witch!Reader | Twilight/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Crossover| 1

jacob is over 18+ in this as well as reader! It's also a slight modern au because technology makes life easier man. And no I don't know what timeline this is. It's after Jacob phases and before Buffy dies again. So you might see Glory in this. Also it’s under a cut because this introduction/beginning is super long.

"Did you make it okay?" Buffy asked over the phone.

"Yes, Buff. I'm in my new house. I am going to my new job Monday" (Y/n) said with a soft sigh as she leaned against her new counter, having just moved from one small town to the other.

Sunnydale to Forks.

"Good. I'm glad you are safe." (Y/n) smiled a small yet sort of sad smile at the prospect of leaving the scoobs but there was a job offer in Forks that was just to good for her to not take and she was damn lucky to find a house for rent. She wondered if it was haunted. Not that was a big deal for someone who went to high school on top of a literal hellmouth.

"How's Dawny?" (Y/n) also knew that Dawn's first day back to high school was coming up as well as Buffy's first day of college for the year. "And did you get your course schedule yet?" She stated sitting in the empty living room floor eating her favorite fast food meal. Her moving truck wouldn't be there with her stuff for at least another day or two.

It wasn't exactly a house full of stuff yet, of course. She had just gone from living with her parents to on her own within a flash it seemed. It was as if the universe was pulling and placing her right in the middle of now where Washington.

"Yeah but I didn't get some of the courses I wanted. Have to try next semester." She sighed over the phone. Was it normal to talk to someone you had just left the day before as if you hadn't seen them in months? Maybe not but a lot was happening as the end of summer was coming to fruition. "Dawn is excited to go back to school"

"Interesting... She wasn't yesterday." Buffy sighed over the phone as her friend teased her. "Oh! So I'm going to try to get some essentials tomorrow!" She said suddenly remembering what she called Buffy about in the first place. "What color do you think I should decorate my kitchen in? Green? Red?" Buffy almost laughed again at one of her closest friends.

"You'll know when you actually go to the store. It's not like I can see the house." "Not yet! But you all are going to come visit me some day!" She laughed a bit. Her phone buzzed at her to charge. "Hey... Buffy. I gotta go. Phones is dying. Tell Willow and everyone I miss them."

"Will do." With that, the phone was hung up and placed on its charger.

(Y/n) sighed picking up her trash and began the work to make the floor as comfortable as possible until she could actually buy a decent bed.

The next morning, (Y/n) woke up at a fair hour for a Saturday and took a shower. It was nice to wash out some of the travel and sleep stink off before she slipped on her clothes for the day. Then she went to grab her phone as well as keys and her wallet. There was no way she could sleep on the floor for one more day and eating fast food everyday wasn't exactly a healthy option even if she did just arrive in town.

Sure she was still tired from the plane ride but she would stay tired. She need to find at least an air mattress. The car ride was short, it was nice. Familiar. It wasn't a huge change from one small town to another... Minus the demons and vampires. She hoped. It was simple enough to find the small plaza that had a few small shops and even a diner within walking distance of each other.

It was not even remotely difficult to find the things she oh so desperately needed. It was wonderful. (Y/n) was even able to add to her growing collection of magical artifacts when she stumbled into an antique shop. She thanked the gods that her family had loaned her a bit of cash to help her get by until she was fully working again.

Her day was going great... That was until she was hit with pangs of hunger. 'Did I even eat breakfast?' she asked herself before glancing at the time and gasping. She had been out a lot longer than she had realized.

Didn't she see a diner? She walked to her rental car and started a vague drive. Ah-ha! There was a diner.

She pulled in and was seated quite quickly. It wasn't long before her meal was ordered and her attention was drawn to her phone as she waited. There was a text message from Anya complaining about an argument she and Xander were having. (Y/n) laughed softly before responding with her opinion.

While she was distracted she didn't notice the small group enter. Especially a young man who had a slight staring problem. His eyes were locked on (Y/n) as she fiddled around with her phone. The young man was known by most as Jacob Black. A good kid who was madly in love with Bella Swan, his childhood friend.

"Jake... You okay?" Bella another member of the small group asked with concern on her face. An older man in a wheelchair who was previously chatting with the other older man in the group looked at the one named Jacob. A small knowing smile flashed over his features as he looked at his son.

'It's about damn time' Billy the man in the wheelchair thought. "Jake!" Bella's voice called him again, finally snapping the dark haired young man from his thoughts.

(Y/n) who was finally served food sat her phone down finally not even noticing the set of eyes on the back of her head.

"Is she-?" Bella whispered to Jacob just low enough for her father to not hear. "I... Think so... I think..."

"Son..." It was Billy who joined the conversation. "If you don't go talk to her... I will." Jacob's eyes went wide. How embarrassing would that be? His dad talking to his imprint before he could.

Jacob looked at the girl happily eating her dinner and playing around with her technology. Then she giggled. Oh God.

How could it be that just the day before he was trying to convince Bella not to turn into a vampire? That he was so madly and so deeply in love with the vampire girl that he defied Sam his pack leader for turn into dust and be replaced instantly by a young woman he hadn't even spoken to?

Jacob was so distracted by his thoughts he barely caught his father moving to go introduce himself. "No, wait. Dad. I'll go." He quickly stood up and wandered over to the table nervously. What was he going to say? What if she didn't like him? What if he said something dumb?

"Hey I'm Jacob." He said awkwardly, causing her to jump from what she was doing. Her face scrunched up in confusion before she finally looked up. Their eyes locked and it felt like everything stopped. Her heart beat hard against her ribcage at the very tall and dark haired man before her. "You looked lonely. Uhm. I know we just got here. But..." What was he doing? Inviting her to sit with his dad and his dad's best friend for dinner? That's weird isn't it? Especially since he was going to have dinner with a girl he was in love with.

"I'd love to join you." Why did she just agree to crash someone else's dinner? It looked like a family affair of sorts. "I'm (Y/n)!" She suddenly remembered her name. It felt like her face was on fire. He shifted from slightly nervous to having a large smile on his face. How sweet.

He even helped by carrying her stuff to the table. "This is my dad Billy. His friend Charlie and his daughter Bella." Jacob introduced allowing her to sit down. Something in the back of her mind told her that this was weird.

Something was off.

It felt... Magical. She knew magical.

But then Charlie began to talk about how he was a sheriff and the weirdness seemed to disappear. "So...where are you from?" Charlie asked trying to judge if this new girl was going to cause him trouble later. "Oh. Sunnydale," she paused. "California. Also graduated from Sunnydale high." She explained with a small smile.

Maybe it wasn't so bad joining their little dinner. It was nice having people to talk to, especially when one was so new. "What do you like to do Jake?" She said looking over at him before taking a bite of food.

"Oh, uh. I buy and flip cars right now. It's more of a side hustle really." He smiled at her. "Really?" She said with a smile on her lips. "Because the car I'm in is just a rental... If you find anything good will you think of me? I can't pay the rate they are wanting forever." She joked, gently and playfully touching his arm.

It was like fire. Both literally and figuratively. If it weren't for the people she could almost throw herself at him. But then his skin was so hot that it almost burned. "Absolutely." Jacob smiled. "What's your phone number?" He looked almost like a puppy who was just given a treat. She took his phone and put her number in and he sent her a text. A wolf emoji.

Her eyes looked him over again. Then the phone in her hand began ringing. She answered it quickly, it was the moving company.

Jacob watched as she excused herself to talk to whoever. Her once happy self was instantly deflated. Jacob did not like that at all. He felt it. He actually felt the sadness in her. Is this what it was like to have an imprint? Actually feeling their pain? She walked back in and sighed.

“Are you okay?” Jacob asked with what (Y/n) could only describe as genuine concern.

“My moving truck is going to be late. On Monday while I’m at work instead of on Sunday.” She shouldn’t be so easy to talk to someone she had only known for 20 minutes. Jacob didn’t like the look on her face one of distress.

Jacob looked her over again, hardly getting tired of looking at her face. “I have some friends on the Res. Maybe we can meet them. Help you out..” Jacob offered without a second thought.

“Really?” she looked at him unsure at first.

Jacob nodded, a bright smile on his face.

“O-okay” She agreed.

a/n: Stopping this one here and writing part 2 next. If I didn’t this would be 3000 words. Don’t worry I’m literally going from posting this part to writing the next bit because I already know what I’m going to do. Then I’m going to write a Paul version of this.

#twilight reader insert #jacob black x reader #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #btvs reader insert #part 1

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willowandfog · 4 years ago

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Dramione V-Day One Shot

WOO! Dramione V-Day oneshot!

Read it on AO3 or below the cut!

Dunno how many of my peeps are Dramione fans so I’m only tagging the ones I know of, if you want to be added to any future Dramione posts let me know!

@superpixie42 @smmahamazing

A quiet knock sounded into the silence of Draco’s office followed by a soft feminine voice. “Mr. Malfoy?”

“Come in, Naomi.” He paused from his writing to peak up over his spectacles as the door cracked open.

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Malfoy. But an owl just arrived with this package for you. There’s no missive, I’m not sure who it’s from.” His assistant stood hesitantly in the doorway, a small brown wrapped package in her grasp.

“That’s ok, Naomi. Just bring it in.” He set his quill down and held out his hand. He frowned at the package as she released it over to him. Looking up at her he studied her for the first time all day, she looked a little more dressed up than usual, a lovely lace red dress coming to rest just above her knees. Short black heels adorned her feet. Her fiery red hair pinned up in a delicate chignon. He gave her a small smile. “Why don’t you take off for the day. I’m sure you have plans tonight.”

“Thank you!” A huge grin broke out on her face. She made it back to the doorway before she spun back to face him. “Oh! I’ll be right back, I brought something for you.” She dashed out the door. She returned and set a small Honeydukes bag on the edge of his desk. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Malfoy.”

He gave her another smile. “Thank you, Naomi. Have fun tonight, I’ll see you on Monday.”

She gave him a final wave as she exited his office, closing the door softly behind her.

Draco took off his glasses, setting them down on the desk before studying the package. The outside gave no clues as to the contents inside. Picking up his wand he cast a few spells, checking for traps and curses. Nothing. He cautiously peeled back the wrapping, pulling out the thin rectangular box. He gave the box a sceptical look before lifting the lid.

Two perfect squares of chocolate sat inside the box. Lovely squares of shiny chocolate, one with gold flecks on the surface, the other with a perfect fresh raspberry elegantly placed on top. The inside of the lid contained the elusive missive. With a raised brow, Draco put his glasses back on and leaned back to read the note.

Draco,

I don’t expect that you should be surprised that you would receive a gift on Valentine’s Day, but I do hope to surprise you before this day is over. These chocolates are not normal chocolates however, they are quite special. Each contains half of a potion. I know that by now you will have sent your assistant home, if not for having noticed her outfit and realizing she had plans, then for the fact that you’ve received a mysterious package and would not risk opening an unknown package with her in the vicinity. You are an admirable man, whether you chose to see yourself that way or not, I know that you are. So here is my proposition for you, eat both of these chocolates. You will be shown a vision of a destination. Go there, there will be someone waiting for you, they will give you the next step. Follow the clues and guidance I have set up for you and they will lead you to me.

You may choose not to follow this quest, as a Slytherin I can imagine that your need for self preservation far outweighs your need to solve this mystery and take the plunge to follow an unknown path to an unknown end. To help ease this, I will tell you that I am no stranger. You and I know each other, we see each other often enough. Good luck, I hope that you will take this journey and that I will see you at the end.

Draco sat back with a scowl, being subtly called a coward was almost enough to make him throw the box into the bin. The need to know who this person that he supposedly knew was enough to make him pick up the first chocolate. He studied it carefully, then took a sniff of it before popping it into his mouth. A small moan escaped him as the rich, velvety truffle-like chocolate hit his tongue. His sweet tooth screamed at him to grab the other square, but he resisted, setting the box to the side to finish working on the form he had been filling out.

When the thought occurred to him that he had no idea how long before the effects of the first half of the potion would start fading, he grabbed the other chocolate and bit into it. The burst of the tart raspberry paired perfectly with the gooey sweet milk chocolate filling inside. Swallowing, enjoying the lingering sweetness on his tongue, he sat back into his chair.

He didn’t have to wait long before images were flashing across his vision. Images of a place he immediately recognized and knew all too well. With a smirk, he rose from his chair, carefully tucking the missive into his pocket before heading for his cloak. Cloak on, wand tucked into his pocket, he apparated.

Head tucked down against the wind, Draco walked the block away from the apparation point and into the cozy Leaky Tavern. Which was packed full of people, couples and singles alike, all out for a Valentine’s Day drink. Looking around hesitantly, unsure of who was supposed to be waiting for him, he made a beeline for the bar, figuring he would be easy to spot there. He was surprised to find an empty stool, settling himself into it, he motioned the bartender, who pointedly ignored him. Draco gave the man a scowl before the bartender purposefully moved to the other end of the bar, avoiding his gaze. With a huff of annoyance Draco glanced around before Theo sidled up to the bar beside him, a tumbler with a finger of firewhiskey in one hand.

With a mischievous grin on his face, Theo set the tumbler on the bar in front of Draco. “Some liquid courage, my man.”

Draco gave him a scowl, before taking the tumbler and tossing the contents back. “You’re in on this? You know who it is?”

Theo chuckled, his emerald eyes gleaming. “I’m your best mate, of course I know. No, I won’t tell you. But trust me when I say, you will not be disappointed.” With a firm pat on the back, Theo turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Draco watched him go, considering chasing him down and getting answers from him. But when he turned back to the bar, the empty glass was gone and in its place was an envelope. With a quirk of his brow, Draco picked up the envelope, glancing around again before opening it up. Inside was a subway pass, with a note, Train 115, leaving in 10 minutes. Go.

Draco jumped from his stool and dashed for the door. He was almost running to the apparation point and managed to remember that he was apparating into a muggle area a moment before he left. Appearing in an alley somewhere he knew there was a subway nearby. He jogged to the area, stopping an elderly lady to ask her where he could find the 115 train. He was luckily nearby where he needed to go, thanking the lady, he ran. At the bottom of the stairs, he paused to look at the signs and watch the muggles scan their cards to get through the turnstiles. Following suit, Draco made his way through. Shocked, he found himself on the correct platform just as the train pulled in. Shuffling his way onto the train with the rest of the passengers, he found a seat.

Muggle transportation, huh? Most likely not a pureblood witch then. He let out a relieved sigh. Good.

When the train came to a stop, some of the passengers began flooding out of the car but some remained. With no instruction to guide him and not knowing whether to join the group leaving or stay with the remaining people, Draco stood and shuffled out. Looking around he spotted a familiar face near the stairs leading up to the street. With a smirk and a shake of his head he made his way to the tall, dark skinned man.

“Wasn’t sure if you were gonna make it.” The deep voice of Blaise commented at Draco’s approach.

“Looks like all my friends are in on this. This some stupid prank of Theo’s?” With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Blaise led the way up the steps. “Who’s the mystery witch then?”

“Not going to get those kinds of answers from me, mate. Let’s just say it’s a witch that knew your Slytherin ways would be put more at ease knowing that your friends are here to help guide you in the right direction.” Blaise gave Draco a sidelong glance. “And so you’d know that you have all of our support in the end.”

Draco’s head snapped in Blaise’s direction, brows drawn together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a shrug, they reached the top, and Blaise turned to lead him down a busy street. The bustling muggle shopping area was packed with people. Some carrying packages and gifts, a few couples just strolling arm in arm. They continued in silence, coming up on a small market set up on a side street, Blaise led him past the pop tents, most vendors peddling sweets and flowers for the holiday.

Draco thought he spotted a familiar head of curls in the crowd that was passing by; he turned his head to look through the group, trying to find them again. His observation was interrupted by a small force barreling into him. Draco whipped his head around in time to watch an armful of fluffy objects fly into the air and a small squeak of surprise to reach his ears as a little girl with long blonde hair tumbled to the ground.

Scrambling up, the girl began picking up what Draco now saw was stuffed animals. He knelt, helping the girl to pick up her soft prizes.

“Sorry.” She said softly. “Hard to see where I was going while carrying all these.”

He rose. “No problem. Just be more careful. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt. Are all of these yours?” He questioned as he handed her the last one.

“Yeah, there’s a small game tent down there at the end.” She pointed in a direction behind her. “I spent all my allowance winning these! I’m a collector!” She beamed proudly at him. “Thanks for your help, mister. Sorry again for not watching where I was going.” The little girl looked through her pile, before plucking one of the objects out. “Here, I want you to have one.” With a smile she thrust it into his hands then took off through the crowd. “Bye!”

When the girl was out of sight, Draco turned his attention to the object in his hands, he almost shook his head at the small stuffed green dragon with gold sparkly wings in his hands. With a raised brow he looked to Blaise and held up the dragon.

“Not a coincidence I take it?”

Blaise shrugged. “All I know is where to lead you and leave you. Come on.” He continued past the tents and into a dimly lit alley. At the end an elderly man with round spectacles sat on a stool next to a steel door. He hobbled to his feet as Blaise and Draco came closer.

“Ah. Mr. Malfoy, finally arrived I see.” The old man croaked before holding out a wrinkly hand. “I require payment for you to go forward.”

“Seriously?” Draco drawled looking at Blaise. “Some witch just looking to get some of my galleons then?”

One corner of Blaise’s lips twitched up as Draco drew a small bag of coins from his pocket to hand over to the man. The old man flinched his hand back before Draco could set the sack in it.

“I don’t want money.”

Draco dropped his arm, confused. “Then what is the payment?”

“I’m sorry to say that it’ll be a bit more costly than your galleons, in which you have abundance. Something that was given to you by another will do.”

Draco hesitated, his hand going to rest on the small dragon tucked into his pocket, it becoming clear as to why the little girl’s run in had been orchestrated. But the thought of handing it over made his stomach turn, even if it had been planned and set up by the mystery witch, it was still the only gift given to him by someone who just saw him as a man, not an ex Death Eater monster. Pulling his empty hand from his pocket, he began removing his cufflinks. He set them into the old man’s palm and met his gaze.

“These were a gift from my mother.”

Blaise grabbed his shoulder. “Draco, man. Just give him the dragon.”

“No. I want to keep that. I have lots of cufflinks, it’s fine.”

Blaise frowned at him. “Well I’ve led you to your door, I have my own date waiting on me. Good luck in there, let me know how all this goes.” He apparated away.

The door beside the old man swung open, and the man waved his hand towards it. “Just be warned, you will not be able to leave through this door, you will have to go through the other inside.”

Draco nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets and entering the dark room beyond the door. The door snapped shut with a loud thunk behind him, leaving him standing in darkness. A few intense moments passed before overhead lights began to flicker on. The room was mostly barren, with a small table and chair in the center of the concrete floor, and a small bookshelf with a dozen books resting near one of the white walls.

Turning back to the door he came through, Draco tried to pull it open, with no luck he pulled out his wand and tried using a spell to open the door. With no luck he tried several more, even tried blasting the door, nothing happened. With no choice he turned to the other door, it too would not yield, to brute strength nor spell.

With a sigh Draco studied the room, with eyes drawn back to the shelf, he approached it, glancing over the titles. None popped out at him as particularly interesting but palmed one anyways. Flipping through the pages, he noticed a few highlighted passages, but closed it and set it back on the shelf. He turned to observe the room again, studying the walls and ceiling, half expecting someone else to come into the room, there had always been someone to guide him thus far. He picked up another book and casually looked through, pausing when he noticed that like the other book, this book also had some highlighted passages. Taking the time to read through the passages, Draco’s drawn brows slowly began to move up in surprise.

He grabbed the other book he had picked up from the shelf and took both to the table and sat down in the chair. Flipping the other book open he read through the highlighted passages. He wandlessly levitated over the rest of the books from the shelf while he was reading. He poured through all the books, finding each one contained highlights. The more he read, the more understanding began to set in.

“Bloody…” He whispered, looking around the room again. “Wish I had some-”

He cut off when a stack of parchment and a self-inking quill appeared on the edge of the table. “Well… I’m either being watched or there’s some very intuitive magic in here.” He glanced around the room again before picking up a sheet of parchment and the quill.

Carefully reading through each passage and taking notes, Draco had no idea how much time had passed before he felt like he had figured everything out. Setting the quill down, he dropped his head into one hand and shook his head. He felt the grin spread over his face as he chuckled. “Bloody brilliant. This witch is bloody brilliant.” The pages had cleverly shown him how to cast a new spell when pieced together correctly.

As he stood from the table, he pulled his wand from his pocket. He practiced the movements of the spell for ten minutes before he felt comfortable that he had it down. Turning to the door, he went through the motions again, murmuring the incantation alongside it. Draco held his breath for a long moment before there was a loud, echoing click from the door. With a cocky smile, he yanked the door open. Pocketing his wand, he stepped through, into another large white room, a large red partition screen the only object inside. Frowning, he went to inspect the screen.

When he circled around to the backside, he heard the door click shut. Stepping around to peak out at the door. Pansy stood there, wearing a tight navy blue dress, the plunge of the neckline exposing the tops of her breasts and the sharp points of tall heels stuck out from under the fabric. Her black hair was in a straight, smooth bob, and a spiked gold necklace adorned her neck.

“Pansy?” His disappointment filled him and his heart sank. “You’re the mystery witch?”

“Were you expecting someone else?” She questioned, raising one groomed brow at him.

“No offense, Pans. But I was hoping for someone else.”

With a burst of laughter she snapped her fingers, a long garment bag appeared in one of her hands, a pair of dragonhide shoes in the other. “Put these on.” She held the items out to him.

With a grimace he stood his ground. “Sorry, Pans. I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

Pansy rolled her eyes at him, closing the distance between them, she thrust the items into his arms. “I’m not your mystery witch, you dolt.” With her now free hands, she gestured to herself. “All of this sexy goodness is for Blaise. I have to meet him for our date after I’m done with you.”

Hope returning, Draco stepped behind the screen and began to change. Unzipping the bag, he looked over the tux inside, he brushed his hand along the front of it. “Muggle attire?” He questioned out loud. “This is nice, who made it?” He asked Pansy as he started stripping down.

With a snort, Pansy replied. “Your tailor of course. Nothing but the best for Draco Malfoy.”

Draco poked his head around the screen to look at her. “This witch went to my tailor and asked him to make me a muggle tux?”

“Ballsy right? Apparently the witch can get almost anyone to do anything.” She shrugged one shoulder and continued studying her nails. “Stop staring at me and hurry up, you’re not the only one with a date waiting.”

Quickly dawning the suit and then slipping into the shoes, he shrank the dragon and tucked it into his pocket alongside his wand. Coming around the screen with a raised brow, he looked to Pansy. “Missing a few things isn’t it?”

With a nod Pansy drew her wand. A bowtie appeared around Draco’s neck, she leaned forward to straighten it out. Taking a step back she studied him, moving her head from side to side she waved her wand again, replacing the bowtie with a slim black tie.

“Yup, tie it is.” She moved up to tighten the tie. Waving her wand once again, a small box appeared in her hand. “Your witch thought you might also need these.” She handed the box over to him.

Confused, Draco lifted the lid to the box, inside resting on a pillow of velvet were two matching platinum cufflinks, engraved with his initials. “But…” He looked up at Pansy. “I was wearing cufflinks, how could she have possibly known that I would need...” Realization dawned that this witch knew him better than he would have thought.

“Have you figured out who she is yet?”

“I don’t know for sure. But I sure as hell hope it’s who I think it is.” He commented as he pinned the cufflinks into place.

With a smirk Pansy handed him a small envelope. “Here’s an address, just in case you haven’t figured it out. Now I’m off to see a man about a date.” She vanished.

Left to study the envelope, Draco considered opening it, just to be sure. Suddenly knowing that even if he was wrong, he would forget this mystery witch and go to the door of the witch he wanted to spend the evening with. No matter if the mystery witch was her or not, Draco Malfoy was going to spend Valentine's evening with Hermione Granger. He tucked the unopened envelope into a pocket and apparated away.

He walked the couple blocks of the muggle neighborhood in contemplation. Many of the signs pointed to the witch being Granger, the muggle transport, enlisting the help of his friends, the damn riddle of a spell, the subtle hints of things that showed how well the witch knew him. He sighed, hoping he was right but also hoping if he wasn’t that Granger would be willing to spend the evening with him. Or… Merlin forbid that she wasn’t already out on a date.

Draco stood across the street observing the tall apartment building. Tucking his hands in his pockets to hide their tremble, he strode across the street and approached the entrance. As he neared the doorman swung the door open for him.

“Mr. Malfoy, good to see you.”

Draco stopped giving the man a questioning look. He had never been to Granger’s apartment before and nor had he ever seen this man. “You know me?”

The man gave a light bob of his head. “I was told to expect you, follow me please.”

The shorter balding doorman led Draco across the modest entry to the elevators. With a press of the button, the doors swung open. The man gestured for Draco to enter, when he did the man held the doors open but leaned in to press a button, the floor lighting up after a swipe of a keycard across a panel inside. The doorman stepped back, letting the doors slide closed, a knowing smile on his face.

Draco stood nervously still in the elevator, eyes glued to the floor numbers increasing, sweaty palms still stuck firmly in his pockets. When the seemingly endless elevator ride finally came to a halt with a loud ding, the doors parted to reveal the roof. Stepping out and allowing the doors to close behind him, Draco took in everything around him. There were strings of lights strung across overhead and lining the roof’s edge, giving the area a soft glow. There were several comfortable seating areas throughout the space but in the center of all of it, separate from the rest, was a small round table. An intimate setting with a chair on either side and candles, two gleaming silver plate covers, and an empty champagne flute resting atop.

But what drew Draco’s full attention was the witch leaning with arms crossed resting against the edge of the roof’s wall, a half full champagne glass rising to her delicately painted lips for a small sip. Setting her glass down on the edge, she slowly turned to face him. Hermione wore a vibrant emerald green satin dress with a thin strapped V neckline. A wide band fitting around her midriff leading to the wrap style flowy skirt which contained a large slit revealing her smooth legs made longer by her tall black suede Jimmy Choo’s. While her barely there makeup was soft, it was obvious she had tried to tame her curls into delicate waves that flowed freely down across her shoulders, but it was slowly becoming more wild every moment that passed by.

“Draco.” Her breathy whisper drawing his feet into motion, taking long strides to reach her side. Her eyes roamed over his face, taking in every detail, studying him for some reaction. She cleared her throat and glanced away when he didn’t speak. “I hope this isn’t too disappointing for you.”

With a frown Draco withdrew the unopened envelope from his pocket and set it beside her champagne glass. “I thought it might be you, and I hoped it would be. I didn’t open this because I was determined to come here to spend the evening with you whether you were the mystery witch or not.”

She looked at the envelope for a long moment before turning her eyes back to his. “I’ve been waiting.” She whispered.

Draco knew the depth of her words went far beyond talking about tonight. “I know.” He took her elbows in his hands, pulling her a little closer. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t here sooner.” He spoke softly. “And I’m definitely not going anywhere now.”

Pulling her so she was flush against him, he wrapped an arm around her waist, the other gently stroking her cheek with his knuckles. He cupped her cheek momentarily before sliding his hand around into the tangle of curls at the nape of her neck and pulling her in, his lips tenderly pressing against hers.

When she grabbed his lapels to hold him close, he pressed his lips more firmly against hers, deepening the kiss with a graze of his tongue against the seam of her lips. When she opened up for him, he tried to convey everything he had been feeling towards her over the past year, hoping she would understand.

Hermione pulled back with a shuddering breath, earning a smirk from Draco. He pulled something from his pocket and took her hand to rest the object in her palm. With a wandless wave of his hand, he enlarged the stuffed dragon.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Granger.”

#dramione #Draco Malfoy #Hermione Granger #Valentine's Day #Dramione fic #fluff #draco x hermione

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rawiswhore · 4 years ago

Text

Various WWF Wrestlers x Fem Reader- “I Was Gettin’ Some Head”

I wonder what many WWF/E wrestlers, specifically the ones I type about, would think of these fanfics I type about them?

They'd probably be laughing their heads off or be absolutely shocked, some would think "typical"...

There's a LOT of slash fanfiction shipping Jeff and Matt Hardy together (there was also a lot of fanfics about that during the Attitude era) even though the Hardy Boyz are actual brothers, not to mention there's fanfics shipping wrestlers into homosexual relationships, so...

There's wrestlers that probably even did some of the stuff I type about!

Speaking of that, I'm probably the only person who writes fanfiction about Bart Gunn, a wrestler that was never really that popular and now works as an electrician.

________________________________________________________________

A few days before Shawn Michaels' birthday in 1998, you were standing in the locker room near your locker, whereas Triple H and some other wrestlers were standing quite a few inches behind you, standing next to one another.

Who were these other wrestlers? Triple H, Shawn Michaels, Billy Gunn, Val Venis and Bart Gunn.

Triple H was dressed in a tight black D Generation X t-shirt and jeans, looking like he does when he appears on "Monday Night Raw".

Shawn was dressed in a white short sleeved shirt and jeans, Billy and Bart were dressed in loose fitting T-shirts and basketball shorts, and Val had a towel wrapped around his genitals, looking like when he enters the ring on "Monday Night Raw".

Val's towel was tucked in to hold his towel from falling out.

You were unbeknownst to what was behind you.

"What does everybody want?" Triple H shouted.

What Triple H exclaimed made you turn your head and look at what's behind you, you can easily recognize Triple H's voice.

"HEAD!" the other wrestlers standing next to Triple H replied, shouting this out, sounding like the audience when Al Snow asks his iconic, signature catchphrase.

Triple H shouted "HEAD!" in unison along with these men.

Shawn, Billy, Triple H and Val motioned at their crotch a la D Generation X, doing DX's "crotch chop" by pointing at their cum gutters, their hands forming a "v" shape and thrusting their crotches forward.

They didn't point at each other's crotch, like Shawn pointing at Val's crotch and what have you.

Some other wrestlers in the locker room who weren't standing next to Triple H and standing by their lockers even shouted "HEAD!" along with Shawn, Billy, Val and Bart.

By the time the 1990's and even the 20th Century were coming to a close, after playing such silly, corny gimmicks in the WWF that were massive failures, a wrestler was finally going over (as they say in wrestling lingo), being now known as Al Snow, playing a schizophrenic madman that carried a decapitated mannequin head.

And what was his trademark mannequin head's name?

Head.

Can I make it any more obvious?

One of the things Al will always be remembered for is his catchphrase, where he shouts "What does everybody want?" to which the audience shouted back with "HEAD!" as Al showed off his severed mannequin head to the crowd.

Some of the audience would even hold Styrofoam mannequin heads and make them headbang in the crowd.

His catchphrase is meant to be a sexual innuendo, typical Attitude era.

Hearing Al's signature catchphrase and chants gave Triple H an idea, and he wanted to share this idea with other people, wrestlers mainly, that he knew you had sex with.

Previously, you shared with Triple H and Shawn Michaels an idea you had with them, while you sucked their cocks, they shouted their "suck it!" catchphrase as well as did their iconic signature crotch chops that go along with that taunt.

2 of the wrestlers Triple H shared this idea with were Billy Gunn and Val Venis, and they were thinking the same thing after hearing Al Snow's catchphrase.

The other person he shared this idea with was Bart Gunn, a wrestler you were becoming even more enamored with this year considering his hair is growing longer.

Bart figured Triple H had this idea, he's even thinking you have this idea as well.

There's someone Triple H wants to share this idea with as well as invite him to this rendezvous, and that's his former friend Shawn Michaels.

Sadly, Shawn wasn't in the WWF during most of 1998 due to a back injury, however, he did return to the WWF near the end of the summer of that year, albeit by sitting at the commentary table.

When Triple H told Shawn this idea over the phone, Shawn loved this idea, and luckily, in July, Shawn returned to the WWF sitting at the commentary table, not being able to wrestle.

You smiled from ear to ear and laughed hearing these wrestlers shout Al Snow's iconic catchphrase and question, and these wrestlers behind you saw it.

"What does everybody need?!" Triple H exclaimed and shouted again.

"HEAD!" these wrestlers standing next to Trips replied with, shouting it.

You walked up to these wrestlers behind you.

"I figured you guys would shout something like that to me, even I got an idea similar to what you're doing before this" you stated as you walked up to them, raising your voice so they can hear you "Is this a booty call? Do you white boys know what that word even means?"

You pointed your index finger to these wrestlers standing behind you, waving your finger back and forth across to these wrestlers shouting Al Snow's catchphrase at you.

"Doesn't 'booty call' mean a sexual invitation?" Triple H asked.

"Oh, you didn't know?" you asked, trying to say that like the New Age Outlaw's iconic catchphrase.

"Yo' ass betta caaaaaaaaaall some-bod-aaaaaaaaaaaaaay!" Billy retorted.

This resulted in the wrestlers standing in front of you laughing and smiling from ear to ear, even you couldn't help but laugh and smile with them.

"But yes, 'booty call' means sexual invitation" you explained when they stopped laughing.

"Why d'ya think we're shouting this at you?" Triple H asked.

They could've shouted this at other WWF women in the company, but they'd be saying that's sexual harassment.

You're the slut of the WWF, you're even sluttier than Sunny.

Sunny has left the WWF in the summer of 1998 because she doesn't want to play second fiddle to you and Sable.

Speaking of Sable, she might be an attractive woman with huge breasts, but she's married and has a daughter, and next year, she left the WWF and even sued the company due to sexual harassment and being forced to dress provocatively.

Jacqueline has joined the WWF this year, and she too is a beautiful woman with huge tits, but she isn't really sexually promiscuous.

Not to mention, considering she's an African American woman and DX had recently cut a promo in blackface (if you knew history, you'd know why black face is considered terrible) as well as once spray painted racist cartoons and messages on an all black wrestling faction's locker room, she definitely wants nothing to do with Triple H, Shawn and Billy.

Debra and Terri Runnels are married, and Chyna gets so much insults for the fact that she's an overtly muscular and even manly looking woman.

Luna Vachon isn't exactly Trish Stratus in the looks department either.

Even though Sable is an occasionally attractive woman, she looked so much older than her age, and if that's not bad enough, she had a really nasty personality backstage, always bragging she was the sole reason the WWF was suddenly blowing up in popularity in the late 90's, never mind Stone Cold, the Rock, or others.

Debra and even Terri Runnels were that same way, not that they're women with egos the size of Russia, but they looked older than their ages.

Plus, women like Ivory, Miss Kitty/The Kat, Trish Stratus, Lita, Stacy Keibler and Torrie Wilson weren't even in the WWF in 1998.

You've had many orgies with WWF wrestlers, so of course they're going to shout Al Snow's signature catchphrase at you.

"I'm not offended by your shouts at me" you confessed when you stood right in front of these wrestlers shouting that obscene quote at you. "Even I thought of asking you guys to shout Al Snow's signature question while I suck your cocks before you guys shouted it at me"

"Why didn't you ever say it to us?" Shawn asked.

"Because 4 men isn't 'everybody'" you confessed.

There were many men you wanted to do this with, but they weren't in the WWF and over in other wrestling companies.

Plus, you want these wrestlers to look a certain way when you suck their cocks, you want them to look hot and sexy.

You then sunk down to the floor until you crouched down on your knees.

"Y'want me to take my clothes off?" you asked these men standing in front of you, looking up at them.

They'd love to see your tits and cum on your breasts, so...maybe.

They nodded their heads.

"We don't want that shirt you're wearing to get any stains on it" Shawn admitted "Ifyknowwhatimean"

These wrestlers standing with Shawn laughed and chuckled at that, even you couldn't help but chuckle at what Shawn said.

You grabbed your shirt you were wearing and lifted it off of your torso and over your head, placing your top next to you on the floor.

You wore no bra under your top, showing off your bare tits.

Their eyes were growing wild seeing your naked breasts, grinning naughtily at your tits.

They could nearly make some wolf whistles at you like those rednecks in the audience who leer at sexy women in the WWF like Sable, Sunny and you.

One of your hands moved to the front of Triple H's fly area of his jeans, where you pulled the zipper down of his jeans, one of his hands popping the button out of the hole of his jeans.

He pulled his jeans and his boxers underneath down until his genitals were exposed to you, his erection pointing in front of your face.

The other wrestlers standing next to Triple H were following suit, pulling the zippers of their jeans down and unbuttoning their jeans or pulling their basketball shorts down, pulling their bottoms down until their erections were sticking out at you.

Val pulled his towel off, only to show that he wasn't wearing anything under that towel.

You could see their cocks all in front of you, your eyes were growing wild seeing these erections pointing at you.

Al Snow's signature decapitated mannequin head he carries around also has the words "Help Me" scrawled on its forehead.

Wonder if they could write "Help Me" on your forehead in lipstick or eyeliner or even with a marker?

Should you suggest this?

Hmmmm...

"You've got such perfect cock sucking lips" Triple H purred, his thumb running across your lips. "Perfect to be wrapped around me and the boys' dicks"

The other men standing with Triple H agreed with him, nodding their heads and smiling.

"No wonder she's in DX!" Billy stated. "We say 'suck it' and she's got those cocksucking lips!"

Triple H and the other wrestlers laughed and chuckled at that.

Triple H could nearly shout "let's get ready to suck iiiiiit!" like how he shouts on "Monday Night Raw" with DX in the ring, so could Shawn Michaels, Billy Gunn and even Val Venis, but would that be too corny and silly, even unsexy?

Speaking of suck it, Triple H lifted his hands and made his hands form a "v" shaped chopping motion at his "cum gutters" as they're called.

"Now suck it!!!" Triple H exclaimed, his hands making a chopping motion at his cum gutters when he shouted "suck it!".

He didn't just crotch chop at you, but also pushed his crotch forwards towards your face.

Billy, Shawn and Val saw and heard what Triple H shouted, smiling and chuckling at him.

You leaned your face into Triple H's genitals, until his cock had entered your mouth, your lips wrapped around his shaft, and proceeded to start sucking his penis.

Your hands were trying not to touch the floor, because you might want to wrap your fingers around these men's cocks and if you touched the dirty floor, you'll get your dirty fingers on their cocks, you might even taste their dicks that have been touched by the dirty floor if you sucked their penises and that would taste nasty.

One of your fingers wrapped around Shawn's shaft, whereas the other fingers wrapped around the bottom of Triple H's cock.

You wish you could have a huge mouth so you could fit so many cocks inside your mouth at the same time.

"What does everybody want?!" Triple H shouted.

"HEAD!" these other wrestlers standing next to him answered.

"What does everybody need?!" Triple H shouted and asked.

"HEAD!" the wrestlers with him replied with again, shouting it.

"What does every love?!" Triple H shouted.

"HEAD!!" Shawn, Val, Billy and even Bart exclaimed.

Triple H even shouted "head" in unison with these other wrestlers.

Some wrestlers standing at their lockers far away not involved in this orgy even shouted out "HEAD!" along with these wrestlers.

Speaking of that, some other wrestlers who won't be getting a blowjob this afternoon saw you squatting on the floor while these wrestlers you thought were sexy were circled around you, their cocks pointing at you while you sucked Triple H's cock.

Some of them were shouting and roaring out "yyyyyyyyeaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!", others just kept calm and carried on, rolling their eyes and walking away.

One wrestler shouted "Get a room!".

Isn't the locker room still a room nonetheless?

Another wrestler not swarming around you shouted "suck it!" while pointing to his crotch a la D Generation X, but you didn't bother to look at him.

Wonder if Al Snow is gonna see this?

Since Triple H is shouting "what does everybody want?", to which these men retort "HEAD!", an oral sex reference, and the keyword is "everybody", you tried to widen your mouth by letting the side of your mouth spread wider, enough for someone else's cock to enter.

That someone else's cock was none other than Shawn Michaels.

You tried to pull Shawn's cock into your mouth, even if you already had a dick inside your mouth, where his cock managed to squeeze into your mouth despite there already being a penis inside your mouth.

Shawn was absolutely surprised, his eyes growing wide, and even the men standing with Shawn were surprised at you trying to put his cock in your mouth.

Well, Triple H did ask "what does everybody want?", only for the men standing with him to respond with "HEAD!", which is an oral sex slang term and double entendre if you're Al Snow.

Keyword: "everybody".

The sides of your mouth were hurting by having two cocks inside your mouth, but wonder if you could handle it?

You also wonder if you could try to fit Billy Gunn's cock in your mouth...

You managed to try to suck on 2 cocks inside your mouth, even if it was difficult and your mouth was hurting.

One side of your mouth stretched out to make room for another cock.

Your fingers unraveled off of Triple H's shaft and wrapped around the bottom of Billy's shaft, where you pulled his dick to your mouth and tried to fill the empty space inside your mouth with his cock.

Billy's eyes grew wild when he saw you try to fit his own penis inside your mouth, he nearly could jump backwards at you trying to put his cock in your mouth.

Even the other men standing next to Billy could jump back over you trying to put another penis in your mouth despite you having 2 cocks in your mouth.

Their eyes were getting bigger at you trying to put another cock in your mouth, taken by surprise.

Though, they shouldn't be surprised at you trying to put more than 2 dicks in your mouth.

It was a tight fit, your mouth could barely fit 3 penises in your mouth, let alone suck on them.

These sexy male wrestlers standing in front of you grinned at you, their mouths spreading these shiteating, ear-to-ear smiles at you.

Despite being shocked at trying to put 3 cocks inside your mouth, Triple H doesn't mind this.

Remember, he said "There's a lot of bi things I am, but lingual is not one of them!".

It was a little difficult trying to suck on 3 cocks in your mouth, trying to make your mouth go up and down their shafts in an attempt to suck their dicks, but you have a reason why you're doing it.

Meanwhile, some wrestlers in the locker room saw you trying to suck on 3 dicks inside your mouth, their eyes were growing wide in shock and their jaws dropping, their hands covering their mouths.

They even were getting other wrestlers in the locker room to take a look at this, they were completely shocked as well.

Some wrestlers were roaring in delight, shouting "yyyyyyeaaaaaaaaaaah!!!" like trashy rednecks, others didn't bother to look at this.

And, to top it all off, you had 3 members of D Generation X (or, at least one former member of DX)'s cocks inside your mouth.

Heh, gives new meaning to "suck it".

Some people in the locker room even were shouting "suck it!" and chopping at their crotches a la D Generation X.

Since Val Venis is known for playing a porn star in the WWF, he wrapped his fingers around his shaft and tried putting his cock into your mouth, the tip of his penis poking to your mouth, trying to slide it in between 2 other cocks.

Some of the other wrestlers saw Val trying to put his dick in your mouth, admiring his chutzpah and understanding precisely why you're doing this.

They smiled from ear to ear and chuckled at him.

"Why are you trying to put 3 cocks in your mouth?" Bart Gunn asked you, tapping at your shoulder so you can hear him. "Or even...4?"

Your eyes looked up at him and your mouth pulled up to the top of Triple H, Shawn and Billy's cocks until all 3 of their dicks escaped your mouth, their dicks now smothered in precum and your saliva.

"Well, he asked 'what does everybody want?'" you confessed, pointing at Triple H "to which they all replied with 'head' shouts"

"I didn't exactly mean it that way!" Triple H admitted, smiling and laughing.

"Would you be annoyed if I sucked on your cock for a while, only to suck on his immediately after?" you asked Triple H, pointing to Shawn when referring to "his". "Since you'd be so enjoying me sucking your dick only to be interrupted. You said that everybody wants head!"

Keyword: "everybody".

"Actually, yeah, I would be annoyed" Triple H admitted. "But that's why I'm telling you to 'suck it'!"

He lifted his hands and made them form a chopping motion at his cum gutters, doing DX's iconic "crotch chop", this crotch chop was forming a "v" shape at his cum gutters as they're called.

Shawn and Billy smiled and cackled from ear to ear hearing that, so did Val Venis for that matter.

"Now suck it again!" Triple H ordered, his hand making a chopping motion at one of his cum gutters.

You leaned your face into his genitals until his cock had entered your mouth, where you proceeded to suck his dick, your lips wrapped around his shaft.

Even though Triple H in July of 1998 is pretty hot, the hottest he's looked by far was at the beginning of 1998, like in January that year, or in March that year.

While this Triple H you don't have to imagine you're sucking his cock since you are currently sucking his dick, you're imagining you're giving Triple H at the beginning of 1998 a blowjob, that's the hottest he's ever looked.

As you sucked on Triple H's dick, these wrestlers swarming you with their penises pointing at your face stared down at you, Triple H included, smiling and grinning at you.

When you sucked on Triple H's cock, some precum was spilling out of the slit of his penis head, landing on your tongue, only for you to swallow that cum down.

One of the things you're contemplating of doing as you suck off Triple H is crank Shawn and Billy's (as well as Val and Bart's) shafts, masturbating them.

Triple H put his hands on top of your head, where his fingers sunk through your hair, and he pulled you into his genitals.

"Just take my big, juicy cock" Triple H purred, his voice low and husky "My filthy dirty cumslut"

Triple H dressed in his usual DX gear was playing his character he plays on "Monday Night Raw" even in the locker room when the cameras weren't filming him.

Though, Shawn Michaels, Billy Gunn and Val Venis were playing their characters on "Monday Night Raw" as well during this orgy.

Triple H could nearly say his classic, iconic sexual innuendo he says on "Monday Night Raw", even before you started giving him oral sex, but most of his sexual innuendo is related to putting his dick in your twat.

Plus, he almost could say "I don't think you could handle this huge cock", but you've sucked his cock before as well as these other men standing next to his dick.

Triple H eventually slid his fingers from out of your hair, where he made his hands form an "x" shape by crossing them at the wrists above his genitals, only to raise those hands up, still in an "x" shape and quickly drop them down.

"Suck it!!" he shouted, thrusting his crotch into your face.

Shawn chuckled a la Ted DeBiase Sr. and smiled from ear to ear, so did Val Venis and Billy Gunn.

What your eyes could see above your face was Triple H's hands forming an "x" shape while he did DX's iconic signature gesture.

He then separated his hands and motioned his hands to chop at his cum gutters, this time in a "v" shape.

"Suck it!!" he exclaimed again, pushing his crotch to your face again, but not enough to bump you down.

"Suck it!!" Shawn exclaimed, his hands chopping at his cum gutters in a "v" shape, like this:

Your eyes darted to Shawn, you could easily recognize his voice and even tell it was Shawn who shouted that, only to find him crotch chopping like a muddafucka.

Your mouth slid up Triple H's shaft, only for your lips to shift and slide over to Shawn's cock, shifting and sliding to his penishead.

Before you could do this, you have to ask them something...

"Hey guys!" you shouted, pointing your index finger at these wrestlers about to get blowjobs, killing the mood and sounding serious. "Should I jerk your cocks off? Masturbate you guys while I'm giving head?"

They were thinking the same thing.

Why were you holding Shawn's dick but not jacking him off.

They all want to cum in your mouth, be it precum or official cum, but they want to jizz on your face and your tits.

"Though, I thought I was here to suck cock" you stated "Not just jerk you guys off!"

They laughed hearing that.

Besides, you might get cum in your eyes, and that hurts.

They shrugged their shoulders, suggesting doing whatever you want, though, they'd love to see your face and tits drenched in cum.

Maybe next time you could do that, though maybe when they officially cum, you could clean their cocks off with your mouth and tongue (that rhymed) while they shout Al Snow as well as DX's signature catchphrase and do DX's signature, iconic gesture.

Decisions, decisions...

You decided not to do it, considering they're here to get blowjobs, not handjobs, much to the dismay of these wrestlers standing in front of you.

Shawn was shouting "suck it!" over and over again like an overexcited child, his hands chopping away at his cum gutters (I feel so embarrassed typing "cum gutters", but what else am I supposed to call them?), forming a "v" shape with them.

Triple H was chuckling and smiling hearing Shawn exclaim that, Billy and Val were smiling and laughing at this too.

Bart, meanwhile, was keeping his usual straight face, not seeming all that enthusiastic.

"What does everybody want?!" Shawn roared, a wide, ear-to-ear smile plastered across his face.

"HEAD!" the wrestlers swarming with their dicks at you retorted, having the same ear-to-ear grins on your face as Shawn.

Even some wrestlers in the locker room who weren't circling you and were busy taking a shower or whatever shouted "HEAD!".

Shawn was trying not to cackle and laugh.

"What does everybody need?!" Shawn quoted, saying it the way Al Snow says it (though all of these men are saying it like how Al shouts it.

"HEAD!" Triple H, Billy, Val and even Bart shouted, some of these men, in particular Val and Triple H, making their hands form "crotch chopping" motions at their cum gutters.

"And what does everybody love?" Shawn asked, saying it loudly.

"HEAD!" the wrestlers, both with their cocks out and others who aren't bothered to join this orgy, replied.

Because of Shawn and the rest of the crew being loud, obnoxious dipshits, some people are standing by and watching what's going on.

Others are entering the locker room over the commotion, they can hear all the shouting and roaring from another room, only to find you giving head to who you think are the sexiest men in the WWF, for now, anyway.

Some are rolling their eyes and not bothering with this, some are hitting their heads with the palms of their hands, doing the iconic "face palm", others are watching this, enjoying this and even masturbating to it.

Are you and these wrestlers going to be arrested for being way too loud as well as indecent exposure?

Shawn's hands joined each other, crossing each other at the wrists, making an "x" shape.

His hands were above his genitals and raised those hands up, the hands still in an "x" shape when he raised them, only to quickly drop those hands down, still in an "x" shape.

"Suck it!!" he proclaimed, thrusting his crotch into your face.

He cackled like Ted DeBiase Sr. or after he shouted "I was up...all...night!" while he crotch chopped behind a podium, during that notorious moment where D Generation X had a presidential-like announcement and they promised not to use R-rated curse words.

His laughter was contagious, Billy, Triple H and Val laughing as well, having wide ear-to-ear smiles spread across their faces.

Shawn's hands separated, only now for his hands to do the "V" shaped crotch chop and for his hands to point at his cum gutters.

"Suck it!!!" he shouted again as he did that gesture, and you sucked it.

"Suck it!!!" Billy interrupted, his hands pointing to his crotch by making his hands form a "v" shaped crotch chop, pushing his crotch forward when he shouted that phrase.

When you've sucked his cock and swallowed his precum, as well as heard him shout Al Snow's catchphrase, it's time to move to the next man to get a blowjob, that next man is Billy Gunn.

Your head rose up from Shawn's cock and shifted over to Billy's dick sliding your lips across from the tip of Shawn's penis to Billy's penis head, only for your mouth to engulf Billy's penis head as well as the rest of his shaft.

You proceeded to start to suck Billy's cock, and while you gave him head, you imagined you were sucking Billy at the end of 1997, when he had those bows tied in his hair, and even sometimes imagined you were sucking him during his RockaBilly days in April of '97.

His hair is growing a little bit longer as 1998 progresses on, but the hottest Billy has ever looked by far was at the end of 1997.

Billy was smiling from ear to ear at you sucking his cock, his head and eyes looking down at you sucking him off.

"What does everybody want?!" Billy asked loudly.

The other wrestlers as well as some of the other locker room responded back by shouting "HEAD!".

He was asking what Al Snow asks in his entrance theme, only for the same response, that response being "HEAD!".

Speaking of Al Snow, when you were giving oral sex to Billy, some wrestler walked up to you and brought Al Snow along with him.

Thank goodness you're looking at these men swarming around you, otherwise a wrestler you're not attracted might approach you and want to suck his cock, you don' t want that.

"Heard the boys shouting Al Snow's catchphrase" this wrestler said "I'm surprised you're not giving him head!"

He pointed to Al Snow with his index finger.

Indeed, he's right about you're giving blowjobs while quoting his iconic signature catchphrase, but not involving the man who shouted that catchphrase?

Al used to be cute back in 1996 when he played that corny Leif Cassidy gimmick (even though his hair looked pretty awful), he was even kinda cute when he played a ninja named Avatar.

He now has dirty blond hair with dark roots exposed at the top of his head and a sleazy handlebar moustache.

You're really not sure what to think of Al with the way he looks like now.

He isn't Paul Bearer levels of ugly, but he isn't as sexy as Shawn Michaels either.

You also don't really wanna hurt Al's feelings, but you're unsure whether or not to give him, well, head.

Maybe you can imagine you're sucking him off when he's Leif Cassidy or even played that ninja character.

He's kind of hot with this dirty long blond hair and even that handlebar moustache.

"Y'want to suck him off?" this wrestler asked, still pointing his index finger to Al.

You shrugged your shoulders, unsure if you want to give him head or not.

"You don't know?" this wrestler asked.

You nodded your head, still having a cock in your mouth.

"I'm honestly not all that sexy" Al Snow confessed "Most people wouldn't find me all that hot, that includes her"

Al pointed to you with his index finger, though you and Al used to fuck a few times, but that was when he was Leif Cassidy (before he grew facial hair).

"I used to fuck her before I grew facial hair" Al admitted to this wrestler, still pointing at you "That was 2 years ago"

Hmmm, maybe Al could shout his catchphrase while these wrestlers swarming you could answer Al's iconic, signature question.

Billy, meanwhile, was smiling from ear to ear (and he has a beautiful smile), and of course he had to do DX's iconic crotch chop, both variations of it by making his hands form an "x" shape and a "v" shape over his crotch as well as shout the iconic, obscene catchphrase that goes with that gesture.

As you sucked on his cock, precum was leaking from the slit of his penishead and onto your tongue, only for you to gulp and swallow it down.

When you were busy giving Billy Gunn head, Shawn, however, leaned his head close to Triple H's ear, where he confessed that he thought of writing "Help Me" on your forehead in lipstick or eyeliner or even a marker, much like that iconic mannequin head that Al Snow carries into the ring with him.

Triple H liked this idea, though, would you like it?

Triple H turned his head towards you and tapped you on your shoulder, which made you look up at him.

You pulled your face away from Billy's cock until his dick left your mouth.

"Would you like it if we wrote 'help me' on your forehead with lipstick or a marker or something?" he asked. "Like that mannequin head Al Snow carries to the ring"

"I was thinking of doing that as well" you confessed "Though, it seems a little tacky, plus, the words 'help me' scrawled across my forehead would make it seem like I'm getting raped, and I'm not"

"Touché" Triple H replied, nodding his head.

"I'm not roleplaying a rape victim or a sex slave" you confessed "Maybe next time we could do this"

After you had sucked on Billy's cock until some precum leaked out of his dick and you felt like you swallowed enough of it, Val Venis shouted "suck it!" at you while his hands motioned at his crotch, his hands making chopping motions.

You shifted your head towards Val's genitals, where you obeyed his order, leaning your face into his crotch until his dick was in your mouth.

You're surprised Val Venis has never crotch chopped and shouted "suck it" on "Monday Night Raw", considering he plays a PORN STAR and he'd be taunting oral sex while pointing at his genitals.

Fun fact: apparently Val almost was a member of D Generation X.

Val was grinning at you when you shifted your face from Billy's genitals to his, though you would honestly rather not look at him.

While he isn't as hideous as most of the men over in ECW, he isn't that hot or sexy despite being a popular sex symbol in the WWF (with emphasis on "sex"), though Val is pretty hot.

He's probably the male sex symbol during the WWF's Attitude era, much like the Ravishing Rick Rude (who he ALWAYS gets comparisons to) during the 80's Golden era and Shawn Michaels during the New Generation era.

Of course, Val had to ask this simple question...

"What does everybody want?"

He didn't shout it, he said it smoothly like how he says it in the WWF with his rough, rugged, gravelly, raspy voice.

"HEAD!" the wrestlers standing next to him retorted, even some other people in the locker room shouted "head" along with them.

"What does everybody need?" he asked again.

"HEAD!" most of the locker room answered.

"And what does everybody love?" Val asked.

"Head!" the locker room shouted.

Some said "head" in a deadpan voice while rolling their eyes.

Val laughed a bit in his throaty, raspy voice after hearing that.

He was staring down at you while you sucked him off, and of course, he couldn't help but do DX's crotch chop twice while you fellated him, both variations of the crotch chop as well as shout "suck it" while he thrusted his crotch to your face.

Sometimes, he even quoted some of his signature sexual innuendo he says on "Monday Night Raw", which would lead to some of the men standing next to him laughing, even you giggled a bit while you sucked him off.

One wrestler who you have had sex with a few times as well as thought of doing it with occassionally is Bob Holly.

The same Bob Holly who played Spark E. Plugg, a wrestler whose gimmick is a racecar driver, who would be in the New Midnight Express with Bart Gunn and eventually cut his hair and bleach it blond.

Bob is kind of handsome, even when he died his hair blond when he was in the Midnight Express, and since you have banged him a few times, Bob walked up to these wrestlers circled around you getting oral sex, only for your eyes to see him.

He probably wants some head too.

While he is a little bit attractive, he's not that hot, he has one huge overbite.

Though, you could imagine you're sucking on someone more attractive than him while you're giving him head...

Speaking of that, even though Val is pretty hot, a few times as you've given him oral sex, you're imagining sucking off someone hotter than him, like Rob Van Dam, Jeff Hardy, or even a sexy movie star or rock star.

Since Bart is probably the last one and you've sucked some precum out of Val, you shifted your head over from Val's penis to Bart's, but before you could give some oral sex...

"So Bob" you said to him, pointing at Bob Holly. "You want some head too?"

"I've thought of it" he confessed "We've fucked a few times"

"I know" you admitted "But...I'm not as crazy for you like I am with Triple H and Shawn"

At least you're being honest.

He knows.

You've fucked Shawn and Triple H numerous times as well as the likes of Jeff Hardy and even Billy Gunn.

He barely got any sex from you.

"Maybe I could give you some head" you suggested, shrugging your shoulders. "Though, you could have a ringrat go and give you head"

You should've said that to Al Snow.

Bob knows you aren't that attracted to him, plus, he's nowhere near as lusted over as Shawn Michaels or even Val Venis are.

Bob walked away, but he does know what a massive whore you are.

His tagteam partner Bart, meanwhile, motioned a crotch chop at his crotch and shouted "suck it!" at you, sounding and looking enthusiastic.

You proceeded to start sucking on his dick while he stared at you.

Even though Bart always keeps a straight face on "Monday Night Raw", he used to smile and act like he as having a good time when he was in the Smoking Gunns tagteam with Billy Gunn.

While you sucked him off, of course he had to crotch chop at you twice while shouting "suck it" like the other men did.

Pretty soon, you took turns sucking on these wrestler's cocks while they stood in front of you and circled around you.

When you gave fellatio to them, sometimes your tongue licked up as well as around their shafts, licking up the precum that trickled down their erections.

Though, you're supposed to be sucking it, not licking it, though you're still giving head either way.

When you were busy sucking off these other wrestlers, Triple H exclaimed "My bazooka is locked, cocked and ready to unload!", complete with one of his hands making a chopping motion at his cum gutters, to which you would eventually suck on his cock, as well as sometimes quoted some of the sexual innuendo he used to say at the female audience on “Monday Night Raw” during his early DX days.

You also sometimes used the tip of their penises like a lipstick, rubbing their penisheads across your lips.

Strange, but oddly sexy.

You basically sucked their cocks until they officially came, not just having precum enter your mouth.

Wonder if Triple H and most of the WWF roster watched ECW in 1997 and 1998?

I know some WWF wrestlers got their starts in ECW; Mick Foley, the Dudley Boyz and Stone Cold are examples, and ECW crossed over in the WWF in 1997, but I wonder if Triple H and some of the WWF roster watched ECW in 1997 and 1998?

Why?

Because Al Snow debuted the character he'll always be remembered for, a schizophrenic who carried a severed mannequin head, in ECW during those years, and he was a massive favorite in that company, people in the audience holding mannequin heads.

Maybe you could've given oral sex to Triple H, Shawn Michaels, Billy Gunn, Jeff Hardy and maybe a few others in late 1997/early 1998 while they shout Al's iconic, signature catchphrase, before Al joined the WWF with the gimmick he'll always be remembered for.

Epilogue: a few months later as well as into the next year, you actually had a few orgies with Triple H, Shawn, Billy, Val, Bart and some hot wrestlers who joined the WWF like Jeff Hardy, Christian and Test, where they shouted Al Snow's catchphrase while you sucked their cocks.

When Al Snow and his mannequin head's popularity were increasing, you would walk to the ring in the WWF, some men in the audience would hold signs that said things like "I want head from y/n!" and "Everybody needs head from y/n!", as well as chant "We want head!" at you.

They also held signs like "Y/n, I'll let you SUCK IT!" and they'd crotch chop at you, shouting at you to "suck it", though men in the WWF were carrying and signs like that and shouting DX's catchphrase while doing their signature gesture at you even before Al Snow was in the WWF.

Just imagine if these horny men and teenage boys who write those kinds of signs saw what you did backstage with these wrestlers, they'd be in lust.

So much lust, they'd want you to suck their cocks while they shouted Al Snow and DX's catchphrase and did DX's iconic body language.

They probably do have sexual fantasies of that, as well as sexual fantasies of Sable, Debra, Terri Runnels, Sunny, Miss Kitty/Stacy Carter, Trish Stratus, and other wrestling women and maybe even a few non-wrestling female celebrities give them blowjobs while these hornballs shout Al Snow and DX's signature catchphrases and do DX's signature gesture.

During Thanksgiving at the end of the year 2000, you actually gave a blowjob to Al Snow while he shouted his iconic catchphrase, and Jeff Hardy, Christian and Test were there too, you gave them blowjobs as well.

Al had shaved his facial hair by then and looked so much cuter and hotter.

Triple H had grown some facial hair and was with Stephanie McMahon, although at least Trips didn't look as bad as he did in 2005/2006 when he had that handlebar moustache.

Shawn was barely in the WWF in the year 2000, Billy Gunn cut his hair at the end of the year, so did Val Venis.

Plus, since it was at Thanksgiving time, and Debra asked on a Thanksgiving themed "Monday Night Raw" if anyone would like some of her pie while she held up a pumpkin pie, of course you let Al, Test, Jeff and Christian have a taste of your pie and your legs, thighs and breasts.

You're not talking about pumpkin pie or legs, thighs and breasts from a turkey.

________________________________________________________________

I actually had wanted to post this fanfic on Christian's birthday (yes, the Jay Beso Christian), though I changed my mind when I saw a clip of Val Venis getting "bloodbathed" by the Brood, which gave me an idea to type the fanfic I posted on Christian's birthday.

Plus, the fanfic I posted on Christian's birthday starred him, whereas the fanfic I originally wanted to post on his birthday would mention him just a few times.

I originally wanted to set this fanfic when Al Snow was so over, there were several people in the audience holding up mannequin heads, but I set this fanfic when Al Snow was an up-and-coming wrestler.

#triple h #shawn michaels #billy gunn #val venis #bart gunn #al snow #1998 #90s #wwf #attitude era #wwf attitude #fanfiction

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jj-lynn21 · 5 years ago

Text

You will remember things that we never said ch 1

Starring college rocker Axel Cluney

Music by Dolly Trauma: Morla , LIGHT BULB

Character idea Billofourtime

Detrimental behavior courtesy of my college years lol

photo by @hiddlelecki

Warnings: aloofness, vulgar language/behavior, complete lyrics to songs

ch 2 ch 3 ch 4 ch 5 ch 6 ch 7

Stephanie Westin had aspiration of becoming a great writer. She wasn’t sure a University degree in anything would help her. According to her family and friends that was the only place to go next. So, she applied to major in creative writing and minor in art. She was able to get a scholarship that paid for her courses, books and even included a meal stipend. She planned to work hard. Take the maximum load of courses each semester and be done in two years, maybe three at the most.

Axel Cluney never had anything handed to him. He worked his ass off from the time he could find a job outside of the house. He washed dishes in restaurants, mowed lawns and painted houses but when his Dad’s buddy, Derick, let him work in his tattoo parlor he had found his calling. That’s how Derick would put it anyway. Axel just liked the job didn’t get in the way of his other creative outlet, His band Zeigeist.

It was Derick who encouraged Axel strongly to get a degree in business with a minor in art so he could take over the tattoo parlor when Derick retired. Axel reluctantly agreed. Derick had practically raised him when his Dad ditched town a few years after his Mother passed away. Axel was fourteen and just wanted to quit school to go look for his Dad who never treated him very well anyway. Derick convinced Axel not to quit. He encouraged him to do better than Axel ever thought he could. He was a better Dad to him than his Dad ever was, which Axel never told him.

The first week of classes. Neither Stephanie nor Axel knew where anything was located. When they finally found room twelve in the creative art’s building, they almost bumped right into each other reaching the door at the same time from opposite sides. They looked at each other a second. Stephanie smiled. Axel just had a blank look on his face as he opened the door and let her go through first.

She sat up front in her fitted blue jeans and red V-neck long-sleeved t-shirt. He sat in the back in his long sleeve black turtleneck and dark denim jeans. She still noticed the tattoos on his hands and fingers. Also, how his green eyes seemed to make her nervous. Axel noticed how her wavy blonde hair fell to the opening of her shirt revealing the tops of her ample breasts. He licked his lips absentmindedly.

Come Thursday evening Stephanie already felt overwhelmed with schoolwork. The syllabuses she received from each class had reading assignments and project deadlines for the whole semester. But since she had the work in front of her she thought she would just get it all done in a few days or maybe weeks other than the tests she would have to wait for instructors to give her. She shared a dorm room with Bella. She only had seen her briefly at the beginning of the week.

“We are going to be great friends,” Bella hugged Stephanie tight when they first met. “We will have great adventures. Working towards a goal is great but you have to live life girl.”

Stephanie laughed at Bella uncomfortably. Stephanie likes her privacy bubble and studying towards her goals just fine. There would be time to “live life” later.

Bella opened Stephanie’s bedroom door when she got to their dorm room, “Come on and get ready Steph. Its Thursday night. You have all weekend to study. You need to go see my friends band play at Hide & Seek. We can walk so we can stumble back drunk if need be.” She laughed.

Stephanie looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language. “I’m fine. I just started organizing my studying, so I get the most done in the least amount of time. I have an art project due in a week. I need to do a portrait of someone interesting. So…”

“I will find you lots of interesting people.” Bella said. “It will be like your studying to find that perfect portrait specimen. You go this one time and if you don’t enjoy yourself, I will never ask you to come party with me again.”

Stephanie looks at her new roommate exasperated, “alright, I’ll go. What kind of music does your friends band play?”

“My friend, Rick, is in a metal band called Dark Breed.” Bella brushed her long ebony hair.

Stephanie took her hair down from the bun she always wore when studying. Then brushed it out adding a bit of shine oil to bring her waves back to life. Both girls touched up their makeup in the mirror.

“You are so easy to share the mirror with Steph.” She touched up her mascara. “Your so short I can see right over you.”

“Thanks,” Stephanie put some light pink natural looking lip stain on your lips. She wasn’t sure if what Bella said was really a complement, but she tried to look past short girl jokes she has been hearing all her life.

It’s a great evening for a walk. The air is crisp with fall smells as Stephanie and Bella walk to the club. Bella goes on and on about the club she is taking Stephanie to and how the people just welcome everyone that aren’t critical of others. As soon as they walk in Stephanie hears the buzz of amps being setup. Some drummer practicing beating down hard on his set. And a guitar being tuned. She doesn’t even glance towards the stage as she paid five dollars and Bella pulls her over to introduce her to her friend that plays bass.

Stephanie heard some guitar, bass and drums form a song. Then a familiar voice starts to sing.

“Stick around. Talk to him. I would kill for love. I would kill for love. Stick around, for what you miss. He will spread you love, spread you…”

Stephanie looks up hearing the beautiful vocal backed up by a heavier sound. It’s the guy that opened the door for her Monday. He is covered in elaborate tattoos. His voice easily grabs Stephanie as everyone else around her continue to talk.

“Don’t believe in us from then. I will kill for love. Kill for love. Who are you now turning me down, turning me down, as long as you can cum we can fuck all night, as long as you cum we can fuck…”

Bella finally notices Stephanie’s infatuation with the sound. She smirks as she stands behind her with her hands-on Stephanie’s shoulder. “I told you, you would like it here.”

Stephanie said in a voice not quite comprehending her surroundings, “Yeah.”

“That’s Zeitgeist.” Bella said. “The singer is Axel. He’s hot, right?”

“He’s in one of my classes.” Stephanie said.

The song continues to play. “as long as you can cum we can fuck…they all want your legs, they all want your legs facing the moon…But do they cum into you…”

The crowd in front of the stage is moving to the music. The next song they perform starts off slow enough. But a mosh pit starts to circle. Rick and his guy friends stand in front of Stephanie and Bella so they can enjoy the music without having to be involved in the malay.

Axel starts in a soft voice, “Muscle was your man, and through your self-arising plan, you took this kindness that I showed in places special to their core, and shoved me out of your promising timeline, after give me those good signs, stranger tell me why you picked my brain to ask just where you might find…” The song starts to crescendo. The mosh pit starts to bounce off each other. “Come again my snow-white shroud, I will take your hand and you will say…” Axel’s voice gets gravely and deep as the pit starts bang into each other roughly and the music increases intensity. “My first seven days, my first breath of pain, you self-loathing bitch, your cut with need no stitch…” The music intensifies on as Axel bang his head holding the mic away. The pit goes nuts until the music slows again for another bridge of the song before Axel ends it with a howling scream while the people in the pit go nuts.

It’s the most amazing experience Stephanie ever felt at a concert and she had been going to concerts from right before she was born. Her Dad is a hippie rocker that took her to see Led Zepplin and Pink Floyd. Her mom is more into main-stream nineteen-seventies music taking her to see Captain and Tennille in which they let her sit and pet their dog on stage when she was a baby while they sang Muskrat love. And her name was already in a song that played on the radio because her mom and dad knew the singer. Her mom sat at the piano while the singer wrote the song and asked about her daughter. And that’s how her name got in the song.

Axel jumps off stage as his band cleans up their equipment. Some guy screams, “Hey Axel, sounds like you need some Pussy.”

Axel screams back at the guy, “Its not quantity. Its quality. And your girl is fucking finger licking good.” He licks his middle and index finger before flipping the guy off. Then he turns seeing Stephanie a few feet away. He freezes like a deer in headlights.

Bella said, “Hey Axel, I guess you have seen Steph around but not been really introduced.”

Axel gains his composure. Stares with a hard ass look on his face and just nods. He leans over Stephanie to whisper something in Rick’s ear. He crosses his arms when he stands back up straight. Glance at Stephanie a second. Looks back at Rick, “Well?”

“Yeah, we can start with that, Axel.” Rick said. ��Just tell your lead.”

Axel jumps back on the stage and whispers something to his lead guitar player before disappearing into the restroom. Rick takes his leave from Stephanie and Bella to get ready to play. Bella heads to the front of the stage. Stephanie is right beside her. A few husky guys get between them and the ever growing mosh pit. Axel’s band’s guitar player is on stage with Dark breed. So, there is two guitar players, bass, and drums as the lead singer for Dark Breed, Mick, takes the stage.

“We’re going to do something special for you tonight.” He said. “We only performed this with Axel & Todd one other time. Maybe some of you saw that performance. It’s called Light Bulb.”

The crowd goes crazy as Axel steps out on the stage again. “Fuck you Axel,” Stephanie heard someone say. Axel flipped them off. He paces the stage as he prepared. Mick paced the opposite way. They both look like caged tigers ready to devour the crowd if let off the stage. There is silence in the room as the music begins.

Mick starts low just saying, “suffocate” in the back ground as Axel starts to sing, “Insatiable you pay again, for nothing for nothing, spongin the blood without defense, for nothing, for nothing, and all of this is on your knees, for nothing, for nothing, pulling the sheets over her feet, for nothing, for nothing.”

Mick whispers into his mic, “anguish, alone. suffocate”

Axel continues, “Your saving her, eight times a day, for nothing, for nothing, and when your late you must explain, for nothing, for nothing, you suffocate, you suffocate, for nothing, for nothing…On your own time, such a long time, It’s alright, broken ones enjoy those chains, And don’t fight, nothing ever gets away…”

Stephanie finds herself getting emotional over the melodic song. Bella sees her and stands behind Stephanie holding her. They sway as the song continues.

Axel sings, “Don’t say the word love. I remember you when you were alone, and you seemed as happy then. It’s alright, broken ones enjoy those chains, And, don’t fight, nothing ever gets away…from here…”

“From here,” growls Mick in the background.

Axel and Mick sing, “I don’t think I need this, just go away. And I’m sure I need this. Won’t you please stay…”

#rocker axel #axel cluney #alternative rock #metal #punk #fiction #fantasy #college life #au axel #original story #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård edit #bill skarsgård smut #bill skarsgard art

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roman-writing · 5 years ago

Text

two, across (6/8)

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Hilda Valentine Goneril / Lysithea von Ordelia

Rating: E

Wordcount: 6,748

Summary: Lysithea can barely keep afloat under the workload of giving undergrad lectures and finishing off her PhD thesis. Meanwhile Dr. Hilda V. Goneril is somehow both the laziest person as well as the most successful young professor she has ever known. It’s absolutely aggravating.

Author’s Note: Please be aware of the rating increase for this chapter. There is explicit sexual content (finally), which includes but is not limited to: oral, strap ons, stupid banter, and some slight overstimulation.

Read it here on AO3 or read it below the cut

Almost a whole week passes before Lysithea is able to work up the courage to ask if she can stay over at Hilda's apartment again. She tries to manufacture some excuse as to why she should come over, but eventually gives up on any pretense.

When she finally does ask, the work week is nearly finished. A three day weekend is fast approaching, with the Monday a national holiday. Lysithea is standing in the doorway to Hilda's office, waiting to be taken out to lunch.

Hilda shuffles through a stack of student reports when she answers Lysithea's request. “Of course! You’re welcome over whenever. Just so long as you, like, text me you’re coming or whatever."

“So you can pretend to clean up for guests?” Lysithea replies in a dry tone. Her arms are crossed.

“So I can piss you off by making it even messier.”

“I knew it.”

Hilda crouches down to start rifling through more stacks of reports on the ground. “Yes. All part of my cunning plan. I have an image to uphold, you know."

"Is that why you do it? For your carefully manicured image of laziness? Not because you actually like the mess?" To drive her point home, Lysithea gestures at the entirety of Hilda's office, which is mostly hidden by stacks of papers and books.

Hilda gestures with a paperback before tossing it back to the floor. "I refuse to incriminate myself. In fact, this line of questioning is borderline entrapment."

Lysithea rolls her eyes. "Oh, hurry up and come grab lunch with me already."

"I'm trying! My TA put the damn marks somewhere different this time, and it's driving me crazy! I've told him a squillion times that they need to go -! Oh! Found them!!" Hilda rises to her feet, stuffing a few loose pages haphazardly into her bag. "Okay, we can go now!"

"Finally."

This time when Lysithea comes over she brings a gift. The bag of cider bottles bumps against her shins as she chews her lower lip outside Hilda's apartment. Behind her, night is falling, turning the sky a dusky purple. The brass 2-A plates on the door gleam in the last fading rays of sunlight on the horizon.

Steadying herself with a deep breath, Lysithea knocks.

Hilda answers the door wearing shorts and one of those tight-fitting black undershirts she prefers, the kind that strategically hangs off her shoulders. It gives the illusion that it might slip completely free without ever actually being in danger of doing so. Her hair is loose and long, hanging down her back.

"You don't have to knock when you've already texted me a million times saying you're coming over. Just come in," Hilda says, exasperated.

She waves Lysithea inside, barely looking at her, already striding back towards the kitchen.

"It was not a million times!" Lysithea calls after her.

Hilda's voice drifts from the other room. "Four times is basically a million times. I know you're polite and all, but it's just me we're talking about."

Lysithea toes off her shoes and closes the front door behind her, locking it and casting the chain as well.

The smells of cooking waft from the kitchen. Lysithea wanders in that direction. Hilda is humming to the music playing from her tablet. Her back is turned, and she puts down a pair of tongs to perform some perfectly executed air drums.

Lysithea lingers in the kitchen doorway. She takes a moment to admire the glimpse of bare skin, the flex of muscle along Hilda's back and broad shoulders. Her mouth goes dry. She swallows.

"What are you making?" Lysithea asks, placing the cider on one of the countertops.

"Baked chicken parmigiana. It'll be ready in forty." Hilda opens the oven door, and slides a full dish inside before slamming it shut once more. When she turns, her eyes alright upon the bottles. "Ooh! Are those for me?"

"No, they're for your cute neighbour and her cat."

"Well, I can't blame you there."

Hilda begins rustling through the grocery bags to see what Lysithea has brought. When she leans over, Lysithea catches a glimpse of generous cleavage, and quickly averts her gaze. So far, all her carefully laid plans for being cool and composed about this whole evening have been wholly tossed out the window.

Turning to the drying rack piled high with clean dishes, Lysithea grabs a dish towel. She dries and puts away the various pans and cutlery that have accumulated there. It strikes her that she now fully understands Hilda's system, and doesn't need to ask once where anything goes.

"I'm not that hungry yet to be honest," Lysithea says while she goes up on her toes to try to put a cutting board away.

"That's fine. Just let me know when you are." Hilda twists the oven dial off. Then she crosses the kitchen. "Here. Let me get that."

Standing directly behind her, Hilda takes the cutting board and easily reaches up to tuck it beside the bamboo steamer. Hilda's arm brushes against her, and Lysithea has to clear her throat. It does nothing to stop the burning in her cheeks however.

Hilda does not linger there, as much as Lysithea might have wanted her to do so. Though she trails her hand across Lysithea's back as she moves away, opening up a nearby drawer and pulling out a bottle opener.

"You want one?" she asks, picking up one of the bottles of cider.

It's tempting, but Lysithea shakes her head. "I shouldn't. Just soda, please."

"You know where it lives." Hilda taps the floor cabinet with her bare foot.

"What a gentleman." Lysithea grabs a glass for herself. She bends down, opens the cabinet in question, and pours a glass of sparkling lemonade.

"Your gentleman privileges were revoked when you started leaving spare clothes in my bedroom. Honestly, at this point I should probably just cut you a key."

"I wouldn't say no." Lysithea tries to keep her tone light and playful, but the implications of what she has said are not missed.

Hilda hesitates when she lifts the bottle of cider for a sip. Lately most of their conversations have felt like this. Like a dance around an inevitable topic neither of them are willing to address.

Then Hilda ruins it. "Great! On that basis, I'll start charging you rent, too."

Making a face, Lysithea lowers her own glass which she had been taking a sip from. "I am not going to pay two rents."

"I'm implying that you should just move in with me already. Duh."

"So I gathered." Lysithea can feel this conversation already treading dangerous waters, and she has barely walked through the door. She veers it towards safety. "Speaking of rent, you're still using my Netflix login. Does that contribute to my share?"

Hilda pretends to mull over the idea. "Only if I get to pick tonight's show."

"No horror," Lysithea says with a glare. "And no more drag races, either!"

"Why do you hate fun?"

"You know what? I'm picking the show this time." Lysithea starts towards the bedroom.

"Oh noooo," Hilda whines, trailing after her. "Not another nature documentary! Those narrators are always such a turn off!"

"I like learning new things."

"So do I. But I also like taking a break, and letting my braincells regenerate with some good old fashioned trashy television."

Crossing the bedroom, Lysithea sets her drink onto the bedside table and flops onto the mattress. It is so easy to fall back into these habits. It's most as though the last few weeks of staying away from Hilda's apartment never occurred.

Hilda sits beside her, cider in one hand, tablet in the other, already flicking through a list of shows for them to choose from. The music has been paused. She hands the tablet over while tilting the bottle back for a sip. Lysithea takes the device, and scrolls for an acceptable alternative to the documentary she originally had in mind.

"What about this?" Lysithea holds up the tablet for Hilda's inspection.

"Too sad. I would be a blubbering mess twenty minutes in."

That seems fair. Though Lysithea does not point out that she has extra tissues in her bag for just that purpose. She had started bringing them after the first experience of Hilda becoming a sobbing wreck during an emotional chick flick.

Lysithea keeps scrolling. "This?"

"Saw it last week. Was bored out of my mind, and abandoned it halfway through for a new jewellery project and a podcast about infectious diseases."

"You're so picky," Lysithea grumbles.

"Then pick something good for once."

Lysithea sticks out her tongue at her, then turns the screen around again. "Okay. How about this one?"

"Ohh, I've heard that one's good! But also thought-provoking. After the week I've had, my brain is not up for it." Hilda takes a last swig of her cider before setting it aside. "Turn around. I want to do your hair."

Setting the tablet aside, Lysithea gives up on the idea of finding a show for now. She turns without question. "What's wrong with my hair?"

Hilda touches her arm, and guides Lysithea back so that she's seated between Hilda's legs. "Nothing. I just want to try out a few different styles and see how they look on you."

"Hmm," Lysithea says in mild suspicion, but Hilda's fingers are running through her hair now, and she doesn't actually want her to stop. Hilda's hands are gentle and inquisitive, expertly parting her hair into sections.

"I can't believe this is your natural colour," Hilda says. "You know, when I first saw you, I thought you dyed it."

Lysithea snorts. "Like I would ever do that."

"Well, I mean, now I know better. Obviously."

"Neither of my parents have this hair colour. They're blonde but not like -"

"Peroxide blonde?" Hilda supplies helpfully.

"I was going to say 'etiolated' but yeah. Sure."

"Outstanding crossword clue, but not a word I would ever use to describe you."

"Are you sure about that? You should never try taking me to the beach, then," Lysithea says dryly.

Hilda has begun to pleat Lysithea's hair. "Let me guess: you go full goth. All black. Big hat. Sunglasses. Parasol."

In admonishment, Lysithea tickles the sensitive underside of Hilda's knee. Hilda squeaks, and jerks her leg.

"Don't be an ass," Lysithea says.

"You really wanna start a tickle war? Huh, punk? When I have you trapped between my legs?"

"That would mean risking the integrity of the braid you're working on, which you would never do."

"You severely underestimate how competitive I am."

Immediately Lysithea stiffens. "No tickles."

"Wow. Hypocrite much?" Hilda teases, but lets the topic drop. "Anyway. This summer we're going to the beach."

"What? Why?" Lysithea can't keep a slight whine from her voice.

"Because I want to take you swimsuit shopping. And also I want to wreck some fools at beach volleyball."

Lysithea has exactly zero doubt that Hilda would do just that. "Do you realise just how sunburnt I get?"

"That's what sunscreen and beach umbrellas are for. Now, let's see how you look."

Tying off Lysithea's hair with a spare elastic band from the bedside table, Hilda reaches for her phone. She uses the forward facing camera as a mirror. With her chin resting upon Lysithea's shoulder, Hilda studies their reflections on the screen.

"Not sure if a braid is quite your style," Hilda muses. She picks apart the braid with one hand, running her fingers through the waves left behind in Lysithea's ghost-pale hair. "Maybe a bun?" She twists the hair up, and her mouth forms a contemplative moue in the mirror. "I'm thinking something classic and scholarly. But stylish, not dowdy. You know?"

"Yeah. Sure," Lysithea replies, but she is not paying any attention.

She isn't even looking at herself in the reflection. She is too focused on the way Hilda is tucking a stray flyaway behind her ear, and the way Hilda's face rests so comfortably beside her own, and the way Hilda's chest is pressed against her back.

In the reflection, Lysithea's staring does not go unnoticed. Their eyes meet in the mirrored phone screen. Hilda grins, mischievous. She presses a kiss to Lysithea's cheek, and Lysithea is so preoccupied by it that she does not register the camera shutter noise indicating that Hilda has just snapped a picture.

Leaning her chin back in the crook of Lysithea's shoulder, Hilda wraps her arms around her to play with the phone in both hands.

"Cute," Hilda murmurs. She modifies the image slightly, and then sets it as her background.

Lysithea can feel Hilda's smile against her neck. The corner of Hilda's mouth is curled in one of her signature grins, the kind that she never can get enough of, no matter how much time they spend with one another.

"Hilda."

"Hmm?" Hilda tosses her phone aside, but remains where she is seated, wrapped up around her. She glances at Lysithea with a curious cant to her smile.

Before she can even comprehend what she's doing Lysithea turns her head and closes the distance between them. It is a chaste press of their mouths. Hilda freezes. The moment Lysithea realises what she has done, she pulls away. An apology is still on the tip of her tongue, when Hilda grabs her face and pulls her back down.

Lysithea isn't quite sure how it happens, but the next thing she knows is that she has turned around in Hilda's lap and is being thoroughly kissed.

One of Hilda's hands has pressed against Lysithea's lower back to steady her, and is now slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to trace the waistband of her skirt with clever fingertips. It sends a shiver racing up Lysithea's spine. Of the many ways Hilda is lazy, this is not one of them. She kisses skillfully and cannily, leading Lysithea along until Lysithea clutches at her shoulders.

Lysithea's knees dig into the mattress as she kneels over her, straddling one of Hilda's legs. When Hilda bends her knee so that Lysithea is seated upon her thigh, a coil of heat spools low. A noise rises, unbidden, in Lysithea's throat and is trapped between their mouths.

Hilda pulls away just enough to ask, "Is this alright? Can I -?"

"Yeah," Lysithea breathes, already tilting Hilda's head back for another kiss. "God, yeah."

Hilda's hands grasp at her waist, urging Lysithea to rock against her. Lysithea's grip on Hilda's shoulders tightens. When a whimper escapes her, the world pitches sideways as Hilda tumbles her over so that she is pressed back against the warm-scented sheets with Hilda crouched over her on all fours.

This time when Hilda reinitiates a kiss, it is urgent. Hilda lies flush against her, and rocks until Lysithea is gasping. She grasps at the back of Hilda's shirt, the fabric bunching between her fists. It does nothing to ground her; she can feel the pool of heat spreading in her stomach with every roll of Hilda's hips.

"Ha-Hang on. Just -" Lysithea pushes weakly at Hilda's shoulders, and Hilda immediately pulls back. Lysithea stares up at her, as if unsure that this is even real. "Are we -? Are we really doing this?"

"Do you mean in, like, a metaphysical sense?" Hilda asks, slightly breathless. "Or just in a 'oh my god are we finally gonna bone' sense?"

"The latter, of course." Though in truth, Lysithea thinks it's a little of column A and a little of column B.

"Okay. Good. In that case: only if you want to. Because I want to. Like a lot. But if you don't want to, then -"

"I want to," Lysithea blurts out before Hilda can even finish.

Tugging at the hem of Lysithea's shirt, Hilda says, "Great. Glad we've established that. Now, can we get this off? I've been dying to have you naked and under me for, like, months to be honest."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"What? And risk scaring you off?" Hilda snorts. "No way! Besides, who doesn't like a little anticipation, am I right?"

Lysithea makes a face, but helps Hilda get her top off. "No, thank you." Her voice is briefly muffled by cotton until the shirt is tossed carelessly onto the floor. "I much prefer to just get to the point."

In a single smooth motion, Hilda lowers herself down on her elbows once more so that their bodies are pressed together from chest to calf. Lysithea shivers when Hilda runs one of her hands lightly from her shoulder and stopping at her hip to toy with the waistband of her skirt. Slowly, she nudges Lysithea's head to one side so she can ghost her mouth against Lysithea's neck.

"Don't worry," Hilda breathes against her throat, "We'll work that bad habit right out of you."

Hilda shifts. Even through a layer of black fabric Lysithea can feel the flex of muscle in Hilda's abdomen as she presses a thigh between Lysithea's legs and drags it slowly upwards. Lysithea has to clench her teeth to keep herself from making a noise. Hilda repeats the motion, long and slow, so that she can hear the first faint creak of the mattress, and the entire bed rocks slightly.

Throughout it all Hilda is still lavishing Lysithea's bare neck and shoulders with attention. She has to pause to push aside some of Lysithea's long pale hair.

"Should've left it in the braid," she says, laughing softly against Lysithea's throat.

Lysithea takes the opportunity to tug at Hilda's shirt. "Can you take this off?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Hilda pushes herself to her knees, and divests herself of both shirt and bra, casting them to the floor alongside the last scraps of Lysithea's dignity. Lysithea sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth, and stares.

"You okay there, tiger? You're not going to faint on me or anything, right?"

Lysithea opens her mouth to respond, but no sound comes out, so she shakes her head instead.

For a moment, Hilda's brows furrow. "Wait. You've done this before, haven't you? I mean it's totally fine if you haven't, but, like -"

"Once," Lysithea admits.

It had been in the last year of her undergraduate studies. She hadn't enjoyed it too much, but she hadn't hated it either. She'd been indifferent to the classmate who had asked her during one of their final study sessions. Honestly, she had been surprised at herself for replying that yes she would go back to his dorm for the evening. He didn't speak to her again after graduation, and that had suited her just fine.

"Though I know what I like to do to myself," Lysithea adds.

"Okay. Cool." Hilda has reached over for the elastic hairband, and is tying her own hair back into a single ponytail. "Just tell me if you want me to do anything different or whatever. I'm always open to requests, and feedback, and stuff."

"I'm fine with anything," Lysithea says, leaning up on her elbows to remove her own bra and fling it aside.

Hilda's answering grin glints wickedly. Her voice lowers to a note that makes Lysithea's breath catch in her chest. "You say that, but we'll take it nice and slow."

"As opposed to what?" Lysithea asks, but Hilda has placed a hand on her chest and is pushing her gently back down.

"As opposed to me strapping up and fucking you 'til you can't walk straight for the next few hours. Now, lie back. I want to go down on you."

Lysithea lies back. Her heart thuds in her chest. She feels dizzy and they have hardly done anything yet.

Hilda takes her dear sweet time working her way towards her final destination. She is languid but thorough. She teases Lysithea's breasts with mouth and teeth. She kisses her way slowly down to Lysithea's navel until Lysithea is squirming beneath her. Her hand inches up Lysithea's skirt to toy with the elastic band of her underwear before sliding the fabric down her legs. When Lysithea reaches for the zipper of her herringbone skirt however, Hilda nudges her hand aside.

"No, no. Leave it on. Just for now."

"Why?"

"Because the hot librarian look on you really does things for me."

"And here I thought you wanted a hot goth."

"Listen. There's only enough room for one hot goth in this family, and you're looking at her."

Lysithea gasps on a laugh, when Hilda begins to kiss up along her inner thigh. "How are you goth? Your favourite colour is pink."

"Excuse you. Pink is goth!" Hilda insists, but it is impossible to take her seriously when her head has been reduced to a bump beneath Lysithea's skirt.

"Is your strap on pink, too?"

"Why? You want to find out?"

"Yes."

She can feel Hilda snicker against her leg. And then Hilda places an open-mouthed kiss to her clit, and all thought of banter goes sailing out of Lysithea's head.

Her lower back arches, pushing her further against Hilda's mouth, but Hilda's hands hold her firmly in place. The slow, deliberate pace drives Lysithea half mad. Hilda rushes through nothing. Every time Lysithea's breathing starts to grow irregular and she clutches at the bedsheets like a lifeline, Hilda moves her attention somewhere else.

Lysithea loses track of time. She gasps towards the ceiling, her eyes squeezed shut. Dimly she is aware that not much time could have passed in the grand scheme of things, but it feels like she's taught classes shorter than this.

"I swear to god, Hilda, if you don't hurry up, I'll -"

At that, Hilda pauses entirely. "You'll what?" she asks, her voice muffled.

Thighs trembling, Lysithea doesn't answer.

Hilda pushes Lysithea's skirt up so that her flushed face comes into view. Her mouth and chin are slick, but she doesn't seem to care. "No, go on. I'm super curious to hear about what you'll do to me."

Lysithea's cheeks are already red. She glowers, but the effect is ruined by the way her legs are splayed open, and her breathing is ragged. "I'm - I'm really not good at dirty talk, if that's what you're aiming for."

Hilda shrugs, smiling. "Like I said. Nice and slow."

"You also said something about requests?" Lysithea asks. She waits for Hilda's nod before saying, "I don't like being treated like I'm made of glass, and I don't want nice and slow."

For a moment, Hilda just stares at her with wide eyes. Then she wipes her face clean with both hands. "Am I dreaming?" She lightly smacks her own cheeks. "Is this a dream?"

"Hilda."

"Right! Okay. Yeah. I'm on it. Just give me a sec."

For someone who had seemed to enjoy making Lysithea wait, it takes an impressively short amount of time for Hilda to kick off her shorts, and step into a harness. Though she has to rummage around beneath the bed for a plastic storage box beforehand.

Hilda is seated on the edge of the bed with a bottle of lube in her hands, and Lysithea sits up to run a hand across her back. She kisses Hilda's shoulder and relishes the reaction that invokes.

"You know," Hilda says, "this is really not how I expected this night to go. Not that I'm complaining or anything. Because I'm really not, let me tell you."

"I see that my suspicions are confirmed, and all you're good at is talking."

Hilda blinks at her in surprise, then laughs. She turns, pushing Lysithea back onto the mattress so that Lysithea lies beneath her.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Hilda grins down at her. "I am great at multitasking."

Hilda is lying between her legs, and Lysithea can't think of a witty retort. She's still incredibly wet from when Hilda had started using her mouth, but regardless Hilda has taken every precaution, and the toy is slick with lubricant. It is also predictably, violently pink.

Lysithea angles her head back, when Hilda kisses the line of her jaw. Her skirt bunches up around her waist. She bites her lower lip but can't keep a whimper at bay as Hilda eases the tip of the toy inside of her. Her knees splay open to accommodate the stretch, and one of Hilda's hands glides up her thigh to grip her by the waist and hold her steady.

A dull thrill of pleasure winds up Lysithea's spine as Hilda takes the time to work the shaft fully into her. By the time their hips are brought flush together, Lysithea is panting towards the ceiling, her breaths coming in short sharp bursts. She can feel Hilda's mouth at her neck, the gentle rasp of teeth at her throat.

Then Hilda pulls back. She draws the toy almost completely free, and sinks it fully in place once more in a single slow thrust. The second time the motion is repeated, Lysithea angles her hips up to receive it. The joint movement sets the toy more firmly inside her, and draws a sound from her lips.

The noise seems to spur Hilda on, for the next thrust bears a bit more weight. She uses one forearm to hold herself up, and her other hand grips Lysithea's waist tight, urging her along, encouraging a more exaggerated roll of her hips. It isn't until a steadier pace has been set that Hilda pushes off of her forearm to kneel between Lysithea's legs.

Shifting somewhat, Hilda guides Lysithea's knees to the angle she wants, and murmurs, "Relax. Let me do the work."

Relaxing is the absolute last thing on Lysithea's mind. Lying back like this, she can't reach Hilda's shoulders, so instead she grabs at the bedsheets for purchase. Hilda drives her hips forward, and a sharp cry is wrenched from Lysithea's throat.

"You alright?" Hilda asks even as she thrusts again at the same pace.

"Y-Yes."

The single syllable ends on a breathless noise. Hilda drives the toy to its base again and again in a hard, steady, unrelenting rhythm. A jolt rushes headlong through Lysithea with every thrust. The mattress creaks in time with their movements, and the bed's base knocks against the wall. At any other time she would have been relieved that the bed is situated against the wall facing the living room and not a neighbour's apartment, but she can't bring herself to care now.

Lysithea doesn't know how Hilda is able to maintain the pace, let alone increase it. At one point, Hilda has to pause to readjust, almost effortlessly lifting Lysithea's hips so that she can brace herself and continue with short rapid thrusts. With a hard quick rhythm, it doesn't take long for Lysithea's breath to start hitching every time the curved end of the toy is lodged deep inside her. She comes with a sharp cry, hands grasping at Hilda's lower back when there's no sign that she will relent and slow down.

Eventually, Hilda does slow and instead grinds their hips together, her hand wandering downwards until her thumb is stroking softly against Lysithea's clit. She continues until Lysithea is shuddering and seeing stars again. Fingernails digging into Hilda's lower back, Lysithea can't stop her hips from bucking when Hilda maintains that constant pressure all while keeping the touch of her thumb feather-light.

When a broken note cracks at the back of Lysithea's throat, Hilda stops.

"Sorry," Hilda breathes. "Too much?"

Lysithea nods faintly, and her voice is strained when she says, "A little. But keep going."

For a moment, Hilda does nothing. She watches Lysithea with an intense and unblinking expression. Her forearms tremble slightly, and Lysithea can feel a light prickling of sweat that has gathered along the divot of Hilda's spine. A few strands of pink hair have escaped from Hilda's ponytail, and stick to her temples.

Then she starts moving again, and Lysithea hisses through clenched teeth. She squeezes her eyes shut. Hilda resumes a staccato rhythm of shallow thrusts, but her thumb circles slowly, out of time and gentle in comparison. Lysithea's lower back is set back down on the mattress, and the sudden shift in angle makes her grind her hips upwards to seek more friction against Hilda's fingers. With her free hand, Hilda holds her down by the waist, carefully controlling the balance between the hard press of the toy and the soft caress of her thumb.

Whenever she touched herself alone, Lysithea has always stopped after finishing. This is new. This wavers on the bleeding edge of beyond the pale. She feels trapped in a fugue state where every single one of Hilda's motions seems too much to bear and not enough simultaneously. As if from a distance Lysithea hears the feeble, plaintive whines that escape her own throat.

Hilda only slows to a halt when Lysithea's heels begin to slip and flounder against the bedsheets. Lysithea can still feel small aftershocks racing through her, clenching at the toy until Hilda pulls out of her. Lysithea is barely aware of the sticky silicone bulge against her already slick inner thigh.

Hilda sounds winded when she speaks, "Alright, I would really appreciate if you'd just, like, do literally anything to me, because I am unbelievably turned on right now."

With trembling hands, Lysithea tugs at the harness to loosen it. Hilda helps, their hands fumbling as Lysithea leans up to kiss her. After the harness has finally been kicked to the foot of the bed, Lysithea manages to get Hilda on her back. Her arms and knees can barely keep herself up, and Lysithea has to drop down to her elbows.

Whereas before Hilda's movements were precise and controlled, now they are sloppy and desperate. She is already making high-pitched impatient noises, as Lysithea leans down to mouth at her breasts.

It takes Lysithea a moment to realise that only one of Hilda's hands is clutching her shoulder. The other is already between her own legs. A glance down confirms that Hilda has buried three fingers up to the knuckle inside herself, and is frantically seeking release.

"Now who's impatient," Lysithea mumbles around Hilda's nipple.

"I don't think you understand how close I am," Hilda gasps. "Please, just -"

Lysithea reaches down. Rather than push Hilda's wrist aside, she manoeuvres her hand in such a way that her fingers can slip against Hilda's clit at the same time.

Immediately, Hilda cries out. Her free hand tangles in Lysithea's hair and holds her in head in place. Even so, Lysithea is nearly dislodged by the shuddering jump of Hilda's hips every time Lysithea's fingers circle her clit.

Hilda is noisy. She writhes when she comes, gripping the back of Lysithea's head tight, and chanting the first broken syllable of Lysithea's name until her cries dissolve into utter incoherence. Shivers continue to roll through her, slowing in time with both their fingers.

When Hilda's muscles begin to relax, and she pulls her fingers out of herself, Lysithea follows suit. Rolling onto her side, the two of them lie on their backs, and the only sounds in the room are their harsh breathing. Lysithea can feel Hilda's arm pressed up against her own. Gracelessly, Hilda wipes her own fingers off on the sheets, but otherwise does not move.

Lysithea dares to break the silence. "Are you normally so quick to get off?"

Hilda lets out a huff of breathless laughter. "Not really, no. But fucking you was hot. Like, really hot. And this thing -" Hilda weakly hooks her foot into the harness' straps, and lifts it a little from the bed. The pink dildo dangles comically from the ring that holds it in position. "- was rubbing me the whole time. I almost came, like, twice when I was getting you off. Why? We're you not impressed by my godlike stamina?"

Lysithea rolls her eyes, but Hilda is grinning at her with that old familiar roguishness, but for the fact that her hair is darkened with sweat, and she is both very naked and sated. Like a proverbial cat, though Lysithea herself has never felt less like a canary.

"I would be lying if I said no," Lysithea concedes.

In response, Hilda brushes the backs of her fingers against Lysithea's leg. Then she sits bolt upright. "The oven!" she says with wide eyes, until she places a hand over her chest, and heaves a sigh of relief. "Oh, wait. I turned it off. Thank god."

"It hasn't been forty minutes anyway," Lysithea adds.

"Are you sure about that?"

Hilda leans over her and taps her phone on the bedside table just to wake up the lock screen display. She tilts the screen towards Lysithea so she can see.

Turning her head aside on the mattress, Lysithea's stares in incredulity. "An hour and a half?"

"Yeah. That chicken parmigiana would've been charcoal." Hilda bounces a bit further down the bed, picking up the strap on and giving it a preliminary wipe down on the sheets as well.

Lysithea sits up, and swings her legs over the side of the bed. The moment she does so, her skirt falls around her knees. She can feel the area of fabric that has been soaked through. With a grimace, Lysithea unzips her skirt and slides it down her legs.

"We may not have ruined dinner, but we have ruined my favourite skirt," she laments. Then looks at the bed. "And your sheets."

"I'll wash them." Hilda holds out her hand, and Lysithea passes the skirt over to her.

"Thanks. Though it is your fault, to be fair."

"That's a compliment, thank you very much. Totally worth it. Eleven out of ten." Hilda checks the skirt's tag to see if there are any special washing requirements. She grins over the skirt at her. "Wanna mess up some more clothes?"

"I am going to need a few hours to recover," Lysithea says. "And a bath."

"Can I join you?"

Hilda has begun to strip the pillows of their casings, chucking the fabric along with her skirt over towards the bathroom door. Gripping the edge of the bed, Lysithea studies in fascination how relaxed Hilda is. About everything. Meanwhile just sitting here leaves Lysithea reeling, like she's in some alternative dimension.

They have just had sex -- really quite fantastic sex, if Lysithea is being honest with herself -- yet they still haven't spoken about anything in any material sense.

"I really like you," Lysithea blurts out before her courage fails her.

Hilda snorts in amusement, tugging the bedsheet free from the two corners of the mattress nearest her. "Well, that's good. Otherwise this would be kind of awkward. Can you get up real quick?"

Lysithea gapes at her. "Wait. That's it?"

"What do you mean: 'that's it?'"

"What do you mean: 'what do I mean?'" Realising that this is starting to border on the ridiculous, Lysithea lets go of the sheets she has bunched in her hands. "I just - I just was hoping for something a bit more -- I don't know -- concrete."

Hilda eyebrows have risen towards her hairline. "Concrete."

"Are you just going to repeat everything I say? Because if so, then -"

Hilda interrupts before Lysithea can finish that sentence. "I think you need to see an optometrist, because I am pretty sure I've been dropping hints that I've been super into you and wanted to date you for at least, like, three months now -- maybe more -- and I am not someone known for my subtlety."

A slow flush mottles Lysithea's pale cheeks a ruddy hue. "Oh."

"So, anyway, is that a yes on the bath? Because otherwise I can just take a shower after you're done."

"That's a yes to the bath." Lysithea staunchly refuses to feel embarrassed by how easily this conversation has occured after worrying about it for weeks and weeks.

"Great." Hilda leans over to drop a brief kiss to Lysithea's temple. "Now, I'm going to throw all of these sheets in the washing machine, chuck this -" she brandishes the bright pink dildo like a battle axe, "- in the dishwasher, and then make sure we get to actually eat something tonight. But first, I'm going to need you to get up."

She tugs at the bedsheet under Lysithea for emphasis.

Lysithea sighs. "Alright. I'll go run the bath."

She tries to stand, but her legs wobble and she has to sit immediately back down or else risk collapsing to the floor. Delicately clearing her throat, she stretches her legs out, and can't suppress a slight wince at the twinge in her knees and thighs.

"Nevermind," Lysithea says primly. She does not meet Hilda's gaze. "I'll go run the bath in a moment."

Hilda laughs.

They don't leave the apartment for almost two days. By the time Sunday evening rolls around, Lysithea feels more well rested than she's been since starting the PhD program three years ago. She is also significantly more relaxed. It is a joint effort, a combination of copious amounts of both sleep and sex.

Eventually however, Hilda is champing at the bit to get out of the house even for a little while. She drags Lysithea down the road for walkies, and to grab some cheap takeaway for dinner. Neither of them could be bothered to put on real clothes. Lysithea is swimming in a borrowed pair of black sweatpants and a white hoodie with a gold crown threaded across the back.

Hilda holds her hand. She laces their fingers together, and swings their arms in a broad arc, chatting all the while. Lysithea allows it, but feels a bit silly. She casts a glance around and tightens her grip whenever someone passes them, but nobody seems to care, least of all Hilda.

If the past few days have taught Lysithea anything, it's that Hilda has very little concept of shame. She acknowledges its existence, but disregards it utterly. More than once, Lysithea had to scurry around the apartment and draw the curtains, while Hilda strode about wearing not a stitch of clothing.

Not that Lysithea would ever berate Hilda into putting on clothes when they are alone. She rather likes the view.

At the restaurant, their order, which Lysithea had called in back at the apartment, is already sitting on the counter in plastic bags, waiting. A weary-looking cashier with a five o'clock shadow - one that has extended to well beyond eight o'clock - rings them up on a battered register.

Hilda swaps cash for the plastic bags. After she's scooped up the change, she heads towards the exit. "Let's hurry back. I want you to ride my face."

Lysithea almost trips. Her face burns, and she looks over her shoulder to find the bored cashier completely ignoring them. She hurries through the door after Hilda, who is waiting for her on the street just outside. This time however, Lysithea is the one to reach for Hilda's hand. She receives a playful stroke against the sensitive skin of her wrist in return. It sends a shiver of anticipation racing up her arm.

By the time they actually get around to eating at the apartment, the food is cold and Lysithea's knees are sore. They stand in the kitchen, leaning against the counters, and eat directly out of the cartons. Lysithea is wearing nothing but one of Hilda's oversized shirts, and Hilda is wearing nothing but an impressive smattering of bruises at her neck and shoulder. Lysithea admires them while she twirls her fork through cold takeaway.

"So," Hilda waggles her eyebrows as she puts aside her carton of food. "I take it that you're still really great at being available for dating?"

Lysithea shrugs. "Depends on who's asking. I'm very picky, you know."

Hilda bumps their shoulders together. "C'mon and date me already. Officially, anyway. Since we've basically been dating for, like, months now, except without all the great sexy times I could have been providing."

Lysithea tries to hide a smile by taking an extra large bite of food. She isn't very successful. "Oh, fine."

"Oh, fine," Hilda mimics. "Like you aren't dying to be my super cute and awesome girlfriend."

"Well, when you put it like that -"

"- How can you resist?" Hilda kisses her cheek. "Trick question. You can't."

Rolling her eyes, Lysithea allows the fork and carton to be taken from her hands and placed aside. She accepts another kiss, when Hilda drapes her arms around her neck.

"I was eating that," Lysithea says.

"You can eat me instead."

"I already did."

"Well, apparently you're still hungry."

"You're insufferable," she mumbles against Hilda's mouth.

"You love it."

Lysithea does. She kisses Hilda rather than say it aloud.

#hilda/lysithea #hilda valentine goneril #lysithea von ordelia #two across #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #roman writes

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bucky-at-bedtime · 6 years ago

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It Could Be Worse

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader (friends to lovers)

Summary: You think there’s an intruder in your apartment – turns out it’s Bucky and embarrassment ensues.

Warnings: Second-hand embarrassment, whoops. Also nakedness. and making out. It’s wild.

A/n: I don’t really know what this is but... here you go?? It’s a bit of fun, I promise. Also, this is just a short break from the hiatus while I had inspiration – we’ll see if it stays lmao.

Wednesday

It was early – not even 7am – but the sun had woken you up, just moments before your alarm. You had hopped into the shower immediately, letting the warm water run across your sore muscles and making an effort to wake up.

You were about to get out, when you thought you heard your front door open.

Through a haze of steam and sleepiness, you sprung into action. At this point in your life, you’d learned to keep a gun in almost every room of your apartment – being an Avenger was wild. You stepped out of the shower, pushing your wet hair back and pulling a towel around yourself, before opening the bottom drawer and pulling out the ‘bathroom gun’.

You left the shower running, hoping the intruder wouldn’t hear you coming as you tiptoed down the hall, gun up in front of you, safety off and fingers hovering above the trigger. You could hear your heart pumping in your ears, knowing it was possible that you were about to walk into a gang of Hydra agents or thugs – once again, being an Avenger? Wild.

You turned into the kitchen, finger twitching over the trigger as you noticed the shadow standing at your open fridge, and as they turned to face you, you jumped into action – but the rushed movements of bringing the gun up to aim, caused you to lose your grip on the towel.

“Oh, my god! Bucky!” you scrambled for the towel at your feet, pulling it up to cover as much of your naked body as possible, clutching tightly at the edges. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

You didn’t need to ask – as soon as you realised it was him, you remembered what day it was. Wednesday. The day Bucky picks you up to get coffee. Definitely, not an intruder.

“Uh– I… shit, I’m sorry, the door– I mean it was unlocked and–” he was rambling, stuttering like he always did when he was nervous. A deep shade of red had saturated his cheeks as he turned away, running his hands through his hair. “I thought I’d just… wait for you here– I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t ‘ve– I didn’t see anything.”

It was a lie. You both knew it was a lie. He had seen everything. He basically had to battle himself to tear his eyes away – your bare skin made his heart jump from his chest, but you had no idea that your hold in him was as tight as your newfound grip on that towel. He thought the words might give you some comfort. He also didn’t want to admit how much the brief glimpse at your bare body affected him.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s... fine. Not completely your fault.” You clicked the safety of your gun back on and placed it down on the kitchen bench with a sigh. “I’m gonna go... get dressed.”

He groaned when your bedroom door shut behind you and fell back onto one of the seats in the kitchen, running his hands over his face. He was pretty sure he was never gonna get that image out of his head.

Monday

That was all it took – a brief moment of embarrassment, and now you would hardly even look at Bucky. He had tried, at first, to make normal conversation – asking you for new Netflix recommendations and bringing you cups of tea like he used to – but there was always something off. You had stopped making eye contact, and even when you did, it wasn’t the same. He was pretty sure he’d ruined a perfectly good friendship.

Sam was sick of hearing him complain.

“Dude, if you don’t shut up about her, I’m going to jump out of a plane. Without my wings.”

“Please do,” Bucky grumbled back, throwing another punch at the bag.

“I’ll tell you what needs to happen – she needs to get even.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Oh come on – it happens in TV shows. She just needs to see you naked, and everything will fall back into place.” Sam stopped, tipping his head back to take a gulp of water and wiping the sweat from his face with his t-shirt. “Maybe she’ll even like what she sees,” he smirked, sending Bucky a wink.

Bucky flushed in embarrassment (he seemed to be doing that a lot these days) and turned back to pick up his own water bottle. “That’s so dumb. That would just make things worse.”

“I thought you said things couldn’t get any worse.”

“Well, you seem to have found the one way they could.” Bucky hiked his gym bag over his shoulder, rolling his eyes at Sam. “I’m going to hit the showers and head home – you and Steve still coming ‘round for the game tonight?”

“As long as you have beer in your fridge.”

Sam almost didn’t notice the middle finger that Bucky held up as he disappeared into the change rooms.

It was only a few moments later that you waltzed into the gym, ready to train. Sam spotted you immediately and a cheeky smile made its way to his face. He had a plan.

“Hey! What’re you doing?”

You gave him a confused look, raising an eyebrow. “Working out?” you deadpanned, changing direction to walk towards him.

“You said you wanted to learn how to box properly, right? You want a quick lesson?”

You knew how to punch – of course, you knew how to punch. You’d learned a lot of different fighting styles in your life, but never classic boxing. You figured it could be useful when your sparring with the others who knew it.

“Uh, yeah, why not?” you dropped your bag beside his, smiling thankfully at him. “You got spare gloves?”

He smirked – mission success, but you missed it, glancing around at the boxing ring and punching bags. You were excited to learn something new, and glad it was Sam teaching you. You knew if it was Bucky, you wouldn’t be able to focus.

“Yeah, they’re just in the locker room – I don’t think anyone’s in there.”

You started for the change rooms, oblivious to the running shower that had just shut-off, already trying to pump yourself up to train. You failed to notice the lump of clothes on the floor, or the bad sitting on one of the benches.

When you turned the corner, glancing behind a few shelves, you felt the air escape your lungs.

It was as if you had both frozen. Your eyes were wide and your mouth had dropped open, unable to tear your eyes away or even move. You were in a state of shock. Bucky’s hands were loosely holding onto long strands of hair, not even moving to cover himself out of complete surprise.

And then everything clicked.

He spun, hands covering his crotch. You got an eyeful of his perfect ass before you turned away, bringing your own hands up to your temples. Your heart was beating fast and you were saturated in embarrassment.

“Oh! Oh my god, that’s your– Bucky, you’re…” You felt heat rushing to your face and squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment.

There had never been any doubt in your mind that Bucky would look good with his clothes off, but seeing it in the flesh was so much better than you could ever imagine. Even after turning away, the image was seared in your mind – the glistening droplets of water clinging to his smooth skin, the defined muscles along his abdomen and the cut V-line leading right down to–

“What are you doing in here?!”

You tried to blink away the image, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Holy shit I’m sorry– Sam said there was no one in here and I was just coming to grab– y’know what? I’m just gonna go.”

The roles had suddenly been reversed – you were the one struggling through your words, the one stuttering over an apology while Bucky scrambled for a towel, or some shorts, or something.

You found yourself practically running from the locker room, still too shocked to respond to Sam’s faux confusion. You raced out the door. You really needed some fresh air. Or a cold shower.

You had almost made it to the elevator when you heard Bucky’s footsteps – he was running after you, and as you glanced back, you saw him haphazardly pull a t-shirt over his head, not seeming to care that it was on backwards.

You anxiously pressed the down button, praying that the doors would just open before Bucky got there. You almost cheered in excitement when they opened, allowing you to slip inside. But you did not account for how long they would take to close.

The first thing you saw was Bucky’s metal fingers, curling around the side of the door. His body followed, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. His hair was messed up, wild and still damp from his short run.

“Stop,” he huffed, holding his hands up as a sign of surrender, “You have to stop running away from me.”

You turned away from him again, running your hands across your face. God, you couldn’t look at him without wanting to jump his bones.

Bucky, on the other hand, couldn’t stop looking at you – even with your clothes on, you were the most beautiful, irresistible thing he had ever seen. He realised how much he missed your smile – the one that used to warm up a room. He missed the look in your eyes when you looked at him.

Silence had fallen in the elevator, an awkward intensity filled the small metal box, but Bucky knew he had to fix this. He couldn’t live like this. He took slow steps towards you, a gentle hand on your shoulder prompted you to turn around.

“Look at me,” he mumbled.

He was close. You could practically feel the warmth radiating off his chest. You realised you were staring at his chin – the stubble there was far less confronting than his eyes and you knew if you looked any further down, that image would pop back into your head. You couldn’t have that – not when he’s standing this close.

“Please.”

Your eyes squeezed shut and you took a deep breath, trying to gain the courage to meet his gaze. When you finally opened your eyes, you were staring straight into his, and you were starting to think that was worse than seeing him naked. A shaky breath escaped your lips.

“I know it’s awkward – the last few days have been… so awkward.” He shook his head slightly, but didn’t take his eyes off you. “But it doesn’t have to be so weird between us. Ever since… the incident, things have been… off. And I’m pretty sure Sam just made it so much worse, and I’m planning on beating his ass for that but–”

“I hate not being able to talk to you. I hate not making you smile and I miss what we had– whatever that was.” his hands were suddenly on your arms, warm fingers brushing against your skin. You could feel yourself giving in, and with his final words, you were lost. “I miss you.”

You weren’t sure how it happened, but suddenly your lips were on his. Your fingers were tangled into his hair and you were pulling him down towards you. He froze, but when he realised what was happening, he basically melted into you an arm encircled your waist, pulling your body closer to his.

One hand stayed tangled in his air while the other moved to his shoulder, pushing him back against the elevator wall. Your fingers ran across his chest and the image of his naked body flashed in your mind and suddenly every touch, every brush of his fingers was like a fire on your skin, burning through your body like a shot of expensive tequila.

With a sharp intake of breath, you pulled away, one hand still on his chest.

“Woah,” he whispered, wetting his lips.

The elevator doors opened with a quiet ‘ding’ and you allowed your hand to drop. He pushed himself up from the wall and you both stepped out into the lobby. You were both buzzing from the kiss – Bucky could’ve sworn his entire body had been dipped in ice the moment your lips left his.

You adjusted your shirt and he ran a hand through his hair – but you knew neither of you looked presentable at this moment. Bucky’s short was still on backwards from his rushed exit. Neither of you said a word until you got out of the building, the fresh air seemed to snap you out of your trance.

You reached out, entangling your fingers with his metal ones and pulling him to a halt. The traffic rushed past behind you and his hair fluttered in the breeze. You could feel yourself getting lost in his eyes again and you had to look away to get the next words out.

“Okay, I know this usually happens before two people see each other naked and make-out in an elevator… but, would you want to get coffee?”

“Like, a date?” He sounded shocked, and you couldn’t believe that after that kiss, he didn’t expect this.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “A date.”

“Are you serious? Because I thought you hated me after I… well y’know. And then things were awkward and fuckin’ Sam made it worse. I thought for sure–”

He stopped rambling when you leaned towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I really don’t hate you, James.” you finally looked up at him again, your own face echoing the smile on his lips. “Especially after, uh… seeing everything.”

A chuckle escaped his lips and he threw his head back in amusement. “Oh, so that’s the real reason you asked me out?” he joked.

“Let’s just say its the… encouragement, I needed.”

Tags:

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#Bucky Barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes gif #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #marvel #mcu fic #marvel fic #avengers fic #avengers #fluff #crack #i dont knoooooow

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urdbell18 · 6 years ago

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Madamspellman Teacher AU Chapter 3: The One With Football and Milkshakes

The weekend felt like the bright light at the end of a very long tunnel for Zelda. Her fourth period Spanish class continued to cause her problems, as if the football incident wasn’t enough. Fourth period Spanish and fifth period French 1 were her biggest classes, a total of twenty five students each. By the end of the week all but seven of her Spanish students have turned in a journal, and Zelda didn’t like the look they gave her when she warned them about having the journal the following Monday. By Friday she was losing her patience with Seth Grinwis and his friends, they disrupted her class all week with outbursts and comotions that almost rivaled the football incident. On Friday, they came into class, smug as ever, and talked all throughout the warm-up. They didn’t even do the warm-up. She set up a folder so students who still didn’t have a journal could turn in the warm-up on loose leaf paper with the rest of class when the five minutes for warm-up were done. When they came back from lunch, Seth Grinwis and company were absent. Zelda was beyond relieved, class free of distraction, it was the best Spanish lesson that week.

On Saturday, Zelda woke up refreshed. It was a good time to be in the Spellman house. Hilda had a mountain of food made; pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, and assorted homemade jams would crowd their kitchen table, surrounded by the whole family still in their pjs. Sabrina and Ambrose shared the bench, their plates piled high with bacon. Vida sat across from them trying to eat a pancake whole, strawberry jam dripping everywhere until Zelda came up behind her and cut it up to more manageable pieces. Zelda’s place was at the head of the table, closest to the window. The sun light shining behind her made it ideal to read her paper with. Zelda ate half a pancake with some sausage, a little egg, and a top of a biscuit lightly buttered, the bottom half went to Vida.

“Mommy are you excited?”

“Vida don’t talk with your mouth full, you know better. About what baby?” Zelda waited a minute for a reply as her daughter washed away the remainder of the biscuit with freshly squeezed orange juice.

“The zoo! We’re still going right?” Zelda’s blood ran cold as her heart stopped. She had completely forgotten that she promised to take her daughter to the zoo. She’d been promising to do it all summer, but was waiting until the weather was a bit cooler and the tickets were a bit cheaper. And of course, before Hawthorne making her attend the game this afternoon.

“We can’t go to the zoo Vida.”

“Why?”

“Because Mommy’s boss is making her attend the football game this afternoon.”

“But we had plans first!” Vida slammed her little fist on the table. Very rarely would Vida throw a tantrum, but it was ugly when she did. She had her mother’s temper which made her a force to be reckoned with.

“I know we did baby, but we will go, I promise.”

“You’ve been saying that for months! I want down!” Hilda jumped in her seat but helped her niece down from her booster seat. Zelda just sat frozen in her seat with tears in her eyes as she heard her daughters small footsteps run out of the room.

“I can’t believe Hawthorne is making you attend the game.”

“Neither can I, but there isn’t anything I can do about it Sabrina.” With breakfast done, Zelda went to look for her daughter. There weren’t many places where Vida would run to, Zelda found her in her chair on the porch. She looked so small curled in on herself on the seat of the chair and was crying, cheeks red and covered with tracks. “Oh baby.” Zelda’s heart finally broke, she hated seeing her daughter like that especially when she caused it. This made Zelda hurt even more. Vida did not resist as Zelda picked her up and pressed her close, cradling her to her chest. Zelda cried along with her daughter, they were both hurt and the only place that hurt could go was out. “I know I keep letting you down but we will go, I’ll get the tickets for next Saturday, promise.” Vida lifted her head, her eyes were as red as her face and a stray tear escaped which Zelda whipped away with a soft brush of her knuckle. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Vida gave her a small smile, it was enough to mend her heart.

“Let’s go back inside.” Vida just hummed and placed her head back on her mother’s shoulder as Zelda carried her back into the house.

It shaped up to be a great afternoon. The sun was shining in a cloudless blue sky and the temperature remained in the high sixties. It ticked Zelda off that she had to waste it, rather than properly enjoy it with her daughter.

After breakfast, Zelda got ready in a flowing red sundress and dressed Vida in a t-shirt and skirt. They along with Hilda and Sabrina, left. Hilda was working and Sabrina was meeting her friends at the game, which was why Vida was coming. Zelda didn’t trust Ambrose not after he let Sabrina, who was two at the time, cut out several chunks of her own hair with kitchen shears. He had grown since then, but Zelda worried less if Vida was with her. With advice from Sabrina, Zelda parked the car near the bookshop where Hilda worked. When they arrived at the school, the lots, even the faculty parking, was full. There was a huge crowd leading to the stadium, and there were even more people when they got inside. When she spotted her friends, Sabrina went off with them. Zelda went to the starting end zone for Baxter High where her fellow staff members were conjugating. That part of the field was the divider between the football field and the baseball diamond, so there was plenty of room to walk around. Some of the cafeteria tables had been brought out for extra seating.

“Mrs. Spellman!” It was Mr. Hawthorne, he was dressed in his usual suit, which explained why his face was flushed with sweat. “Glad you could join us.” Like I had a choice said the voice in Zelda’s head. Hilda called it her ��bitch voice’, and there was a time and a place for it. This was, unfortunately, not one of them. “Who’s this?” He looked down at her daughter. Vida had moved to hide behind her, she didn’t like strangers leering at her.

“This is my daughter Vida. Vida this is my boss Mr. Hawthorne.” Zelda didn’t expect her daughter to reply, but it would be a sort of comfort to her daughter to know why someone was speaking to them.

“Oh! I didn’t know that you had a daughter.” The look on Mr. Hawthorne’s face… Zelda might of imagined it, but it looked dejected. Zelda didn’t know why he would feel that way, especially not because of her daughter. “Well, have a seat anywhere you like. The game is going to start soon.” Mr. Hawthorne gave her a small smile and turned in the direction of the field. Zelda looked around for a spot that wasn’t too crowded, but still had some protection from the sun. She remembered to place sunscreen on herself and Vida, but she didn’t want to tempt fate. There was a tree on a slight swell of a hill that was the perfect distance from the field. In her tote bag, Zelda packed a blanket, which she laid on the ground in the shade. Zelda sat with her back pressed against the tree trunk while Vida, after she was done running around, sprawled laying on her back. When they were hungry they had the sandwiches that Hilda quickly prepared for them, and water from the water bottle that Zelda fixed up before leaving home.

“Well you certainly have the right idea.”

“Ms. Wardwell.” Mary Wardwell looked stunning. The history teacher pulled off the white t-shirt with jeans exceptionally well and the sun made the highlights in her hair shine. Ms. Wardwell’s makeup was light but her lips were still their signature red color. “How are you enjoying the game?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

“No, but it’s polite.”

“How true.” Vida, who was reading one of her Madeline books, looked at Ms. Wardwell but didn’t show the same fear as she did with Hawthorne. “And who might you be?” Ms. Wardwell bent down so that she was at eye level with the small girl.

“V-Vida?”

“Are you sure about that?” Zelda smiled as her daughter puffed out her cheeks at Ms. Wardwell’s teasing smile.

“Yes. My name is Vida Spellman.”

“Well nice to meet you Vida Spellman, I’m Mary Wardwell.” Ms. Wardwell held out her hand to the small girl, the child’s hand barely covered her palm. “Would you mind if I joined you?” Vida looked at her mother, Zelda smiled and gently nodded.

“Yes!” Zelda bit her lip to stifle a laugh. Her daughter didn’t understand the way that Mary asked she was supposed to say no, but Ms. Wardwell smiled all the same and joined them on the blanket. Through the rest of the first half of the game, Ms. Wardwell nodded along as Vida rambled on about Madeline and her adventures. Vida had read the book so many times that she could read them all by herself even though it was in French. During half time Zelda left to go to the bathroom, she asked Vida to come along with her but her daughter didn’t want to go.

“I don’t mind watching her Zelda. You go, we’ll still be here when you get back.” Zelda wanted to protest. She didn’t know the first thing about Ms. Wardwell, nothing personal that would tell her to trust this woman with the most important thing in her life. But Vida looked content so Zelda agreed. On her way back Mr. Hawthorne spotted her and he waved her over to where he was standing.

“Mrs. Spellman, how are you enjoying the game? Can you believe that we’re about to win against Riverdale? They’re our biggest rivals in the division.”

“Oh really?”

“Indeed.” Hawthorne then launched into a ten minute spiel on the history of Greendale’s rivalry with Riverdale. It sounded more like a slaughter to Zelda, Greendale hasn’t one a single game against the other school in almost three years.

“I’m sorry Mr. Hawthorne.” Mr. Hawthorne stopped mid sentence. He looked like a gulping fish before closing his mouth. “But I have to cut this short. My daughter is waiting for me.”

“Yes. Of course. Your daughter. How old is she?”

“She’s four.” Zelda tensed. She didn’t like talking about her personal life, especially when it concerned her daughter.

“And how long have you and your husband been married?”

“I don’t believe I ever mentioned having a husband. I’m not married.”

“Oh- I just- with the- and…” Mr. Hawthorne’s face went even more red than it was before, and he walked away still stuttering.

When Zelda returned, she found that Vida had made herself at home in Mary’s lap. She was reading aloud from her book, in perfect pronunciation that made Zelda flush with pride. Mary was nodding along, occasionally parroting some of the words. She looked up at Zelda and winked. Zelda took her old spot next to the tree but placed herself an inch closer to Mary, inhaling that subtle perfume, it smelt even more wonderful in the late summer air. And while she will deny it, Zelda dozed off, her head resting on Mary Wardwell’s shoulder. Mary didn’t seem to mind one bit.

Greendale ended up losing the game in the last quarter. After half time Greendale gave up a touchdown with a conversion and a field goal. It was almost five when Zelda and Mary folded up the blanket. They left through the cafeteria, it got them around the heavy crowd. While fall was still a few weeks away, the sun was going down earlier, it hung low and bright orange.

“Where are we going now Mommy?”

“Well, I was thinking we get chicken fingers and perhaps milkshakes.” Zelda smiled at the bright look on her daughter’s face. While Vida seemed to let go of her sadness about the zoo, Zelda didn’t forget. And Vida behaved herself so well at the game.

“Can Mary come!?” While Zelda held Vida’s left hand, half way into town Vida took her free hand and placed it into Marry’s. Hence why Ms. Wardwell was still walking with them.

“Why don’t you ask Mary if she’d like to join us?”

“Mary, would you join us for chicken fingers and milkshakes?”

“I would love to!” The squeal that left Vida was deafening but the smile was worth it. It was the happiest that Zelda had seen her in a long time. It was also how the three of them ended up sharing a corner booth at Hilda’s work. Hilda supplied them with a large platter of chicken fingers and milkshakes for Vida and, to Zelda’s surprise, Mary. Zelda had hot tea with honey and a splash of milk. Vida’s favorite milkshake was strawberry mint, while Mary stuck with an old classic, vanilla.

“I’ll be back.” Vida, who was in the curve of the booth between Zelda and Mary, ducked under the table to come out the other side.

“Where are you going baby?”

“I’m going to find Aunt Hilda so she can take me to the bathroom.” Zelda nodded and watched until Vida found Hilda.

That left her, Mary, and a half eaten platter of chicken fingers. Zelda twirled a french fry between her fingertips and looked anywhere but at Mary Wardwell. Eventually she was forced to look at the teacher because there was only so much of the decor she could stomach. Mary caught her looking, and they locked eyes over Mary’s milkshake glass. Mary’s smirk and the lipstick imprint on her straw caused a slight flush of Zelda's cheeks.

“You have one amazing daughter Zelda.”

“Thank you.” Zelda’s voice became soft, almost a whisper. “Some days I just hope that I’m doing it right.” Vida was not the first child Zelda had raised. She and Hilda have brought up Sabrina since she was a babe. And Zelda went through the ‘what ifs’, and the worrying, but when Vida came she brought all that back. All of Zelda’s fears and concerns played in her mind, making her second guess every decision when it came to Vida. But her love for her daughter, her determination to be the best mother possible, kept her grounded. It allowed her to enjoy those small moments.

“Well, from where I’m sitting.” There was a squeak of leather as Mary slid over to Zelda. “You’re doing a fantastic job.”

Zelda huffed and summoned all her willpower to not cry in front of Mary. Her dignity wouldn’t survive. Try as she might a tear fought through, it slid halfway down her cheek before it was brushed away by a gentle knuckle.

“I’m glad your cheek is looking better.”

“Completely healed.” Zelda replied with a weak smile.

Mary nodded, her hair slightly brushed Zelda’s face. She then moved back to her side of the booth like it was nothing the way she comforted Zelda in the middle of the bookshop. Mary’s smile had changed, it wasn’t its usual smirk, it was softer. Vida came back with Hilda, who wasn’t dressed in her usual Frankenstein dress, but rather in her regular everyday clothes.

“I found Aunt Hilda!”

“I see that baby.” Zelda smiled and got out of the booth. Vida crawled back in, scooting as close to Mary as possible without being on top of the teacher. Mary didn’t mind, she playfully nudged the little girl causing her to giggle. Hilda sat next to Zelda, letting out a small groan.

“I just need five minutes.” Hilda picked up the chicken tender that Zelda half finished, not caring that it went cold. She ate it in two quick bites.

“Tough day?”

“Long.” Hilda squeaked and dropped the chicken tender that she was taking from the basket. “Dear lord, where are my manners? Hi, I’m Hilda Spellman. Let me guess, Ms. Wardwell?”

“The one and only. My, I must be lucky meeting two Spellmans in one day.”

“Aunt Hilda, Mary’s my new friend!”

“That’s great love. What did you do today? How was the game?” Vida led the conversation when she wasn’t munching on a chicken tender or taking sips of her milkshake. When the basket ran empty, Hilda got out of booth and stretched with a groan.

“Ready to go?” They left the table, Zelda holding one of Vida’s hands, Hilda grabbing the other. Mary walked next to Zelda, admiring the small family scene. “Would you like a ride home Ms. Wardwell?”

“Please call me Mary, Hilda, and no I think I’ll walk. It’s a lovely night after all.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. I’ll be fine but I thank you for the concern Zelda.” Mary waited on the corner as the Spellmans got into Zelda’s car. Zelda saw her in the driver's side mirror before Mary completely disappeared in the blackness of the night.

The car ride home was filled with Vida’s soft snoring. Hilda turned the radio on but kept the volume down so that it was a low hum. Zelda focused on the woods. The temperature had cooled when the sun went down but the sky was void of cloud, filling the night with stars. Mary was right, it was a beautiful night.

#Madam Satan #Zelda Spellman #madam spellman

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slut4supersoldiers · 6 years ago

Text

Someday. Maybe. Chapter 8

Summary: Throw together a boy and a girl and another boy and 5 middle-schoolers, two adults, a little girl with telekinetic powers, and a monster from another dimension and you’ll get the perfectly strange story.

(AKA: I suck at writing summaries.)

Pairing: Steve Harrington X OC (fem reader) X Billy Hargrove

Words: 2K+

A/n: This is the second last chapter. And this one has my boi Stevie’s point of view. Please leave a feedback. xx

I do not own Strangers Things nor the GIF.

PART I

PART II

PART III

PART IV

PART V

PART VI

PART VII

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

I woke up the next day with a massive headache.

After spending two hours down at the station the night before, Flo decided to call it a day and the both of us returned home. Taking in my slouched appearance and lack of appetite Flo asked me if anything was bothering me. I gave her a half-hearted smile and shook my head. After kissing my forehead she retrieved to her room but not before assuring me that she would always be there if I need her. Her kind words somehow felt alien to me and suddenly my eyes welled up with tears. And the tears didn’t stop till the morning rays peeked through my curtains blinding me momentarily and worsening the head ache. Thankfully it was a Saturday so I didn’t have to come up with an excuse to skip school. Although with the way I was feeling now I wouldn’t have to come up with and excuse at all.

After fifteen minutes of lying in bed I willed myself to get up. Seeing as I was going to be staying home I quickly went through my routine, threw on a large sweater and some pants before heading downstairs.

As I entered the kitchen I saw Flo talking on the phone with a hand on her hip and an apron around her waist. She turned around probably on hearing me shuffle through the kitchen and pointed at a plate on the table. As she continued talking I devoured my breakfast. With all that happened in a period of two days I felt like I hadn’t eat at all and suddenly I wanted to eat till my stomach burst.

“Careful honey, you’re stuffing your mouth.” Flo who had now hung up approached the table and poured me a glass of orange juice. I nodded at her as I chugged down the juice. Flo just shook her head and grabbed the carton. After putting it away she turned to look at me and said, “I have to visit Lauren today. She fell from the stairs and broke her hip, poor thing.”

Lauren was Flo’s friend since high school and they frequented each other’s house from time to time. Lauren lived in the neighbouring town with her husband and their dog Humphry.

“I am taking your car and I’ll be back by Monday. Are you going to be okay by yourself?” Flo asked as she put on her coat.

I smiled and nodded at Flo when she grabbed the key hanging on the nail by the door. She gave a pat on my shoulder and kissed my cheek before bidding me farewell. I watched as she drove away and decided to get some homework done.

After three hours of making notes and solving math problems I decided to take a break. What better way to take a break than renting a movie! So I put on a pair of jeans, tucked my sweater in and grabbed my jacket.

The moment I stepped out of the house I cursed myself for being stupid enough to walk in this cold but with my car gone I had no other option. Luckily I managed to reach the store before I could freeze to death like Jack Nicholson in the Shinning. Huh! Maybe I could watch that movie.

After grabbing the VHS I walked over to aisle number 3 to grab some popcorn. As I was about to reach out and grab the box of (extra) butter popcorn my gaze fell on a ruckus in front of the meat section.

Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington were engaged in an animated discussion over something. I would have never imagined Steve Harrington hanging out with anyone half his age let alone Dustin. Out of curiosity, I walked towards the two boys. The younger boy who was facing me suddenly stopped talking as he saw me approaching them.

“(y/n) what are you doing here?” He yelled and looked at Steve almost as if he was trying to stop Steve from saying anything. Following Dustin’s actions Steve tensed and turned around to look at me.

Without so much as glancing at Steve I asked Dustin, “Me? What are you doing here?” I pointed my finger at both the boys as if questioning the odd pair.

“Oh, yeah… huh… funny story. Steve do you wanna tell her?” Dustin suddenly looked towards the older boy.

Steve looked at Dustin with disbelief and then looked at the ground in an effort to conjure up some explanation.

“I got it. It’s for a project for science class. We have to study…uh… the behaviour of…uh… a semi-wild being in its habitat and how it reacts to its prey which in this case is raw beef.” Both Steve and I stared at Dustin who put his hands in his pockets and stared at us.

“Cut the crap Henderson and tell me the truth.” I deadpanned.

“I’ll tell you the truth. Dustin’s pet lizard ate his cat.” Steve spoke up.

“Okay. That’s funny Harrin- Wait are you serious?” I looked between the two boys. “How can a lizard eat a ca- Wait it ate Mews?”

“That’s the only cat I have (y/n) or had. And ‘it’ is not a lizard, he has a name.” Dustin pointed at Steve.

“Wait. So something which was not a lizard ate your cat and you gave it a name and are now feeding it. Does it sound completely stupid and irrational to you too or do you want me to say it out loud once more?” I looked at Dustin who looked at me with a scowl.

“(y/n) don’t you get it this thing is a creature from the upside down?” He whispered cautiously so as to not let anyone overhear us.

“Alright. That does it. You, Dustin Henderson are going home at this instant.” The moment Dustin mentioned that this filthy creature was linked to the creatures we encountered last year I realised the gravity of the issue.

“What? Why? Anyway mom is not home she is looking for Mews and I don’t have the key.” He shrugged.

“What? You haven’t told Mrs. Henderson that her cat is dead?” I whisper-yelled.

“(Y/n) you’re over-reacting.”

“I am over-reacting? Dustin some dangerous creature is on the loose and has killed your cat, why do you think it won’t kill you?”

“He is not some creature. He is Dart. He is my friend he won’t hurt me.”

“Oh, great! Just because you named it now it’s your-

“(Y/n) ‘it’ has a na-

“Hey, hey, hey, if you two are done arguing like 5 year olds we have something more important to do.” Steve interjected.

“Right.” Dustin Straightened up and backed away a little.

“Fine. Dustin I’ll keep your secret and not say anything to Mrs. Henderson if I can come with you two.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Why?” Dustin questioned mimicking my stance.

“Well firstly, I won’t be able to live with the fact that I let you walk in the arms of death without making any efforts of protecting you and also I have a shotgun at my house and I know how to use it.” I raised my brow as at Dustin, challenging him.

“Well you came in real strong with the emotional rant but just the shotgun part would have sufficed. Man! I should’ve just come to you instead of Steve.” Dustin smiled at me.

“You know I am standing right here?” Steve rolled his eyes at Dustin.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go guys.” Dustin said before he began piling his cart with packets of raw meat.

After buying two buckets worth meat and gaining a weird look by the cashier the three of us made our way to my house to grab my shotgun. Making sure I had enough bullets we finally began walking to the abandoned rail tracks that passed from the forest to the abandoned junkyard, since taking a car and then leaving it would have been unsafe.

The whole time Steve kept glancing towards me only to look ahead when I caught him. Annoyed with his behaviour I slung my shotgun on my back, grabbed one bucket out of Dustin’s hand and began walking ahead. With all that had happened two days ago and now this, I needed to free my mind even if it would last for a short while.

STEVE’S P.O.V:

If somebody told me few years ago I'd be teaming up with Dustin Henderson to track down some inter-dimensional creature who eats cats I would have laughed in their face. Then again I would have done the same thing if somebody said I'd be helping Jonathan Byers fight off a similar creature with my (ex) girlfriend. But then last year happened.

But the demo creature and teaming up with Dustin Henderson weren't the only strange things, (y/n)’s behaviour was strange too. She had made it clear that she was on board only for Dustin. I understood the reason why she was being distant and I was kicking myself for not apologizing to her but at the same time a small part of me (very selfish and confused part of me) wanted her to come along because she wanted to spend time with me. We never did that anymore. It was not her fault though.

Last year during the summer she confessed her attraction towards me. Did that catch me off guard? Yes. Not because I didn't like her. In fact I had liked her since we were friends but I never acted on it because she was...well (y/n). She was always the smartest, the hardest working, and the kindest person in school. The only thing I had going for me was my hair and my parents' money. Why would she go for me?

There were a few times in middle school when I wanted to tell her I liked her. Like after Becca Green's birthday party (where I dragged her against her will) when she tucked her hair behind her ears and told me she had a great time; or that time when we stayed up watching stars by the pool outside my house and decided to make it our little tradition or that time when she fell down her bike and in spite of a bleeding knee, glazed eyes and a wobbling lip she still managed to smile and say "I am okay."

I always wanted to tell her I liked her. But high school came along and we began drifting apart, again she wasn’t the one to be blamed. I know she hated the people I hung out with but I also liked the feeling of being popular. I liked the attention (that I was otherwise devoid of). I liked being the best, the king. That was the year I talked to Nancy Wheeler.

The closer we became the farther (y/n) went. She became even more distant from not just me but everyone around her. She began spending time at the AV club and down at the police station. But I was too busy ignoring her because I thought my life was perfect. I had many friends, I had a smart and beautiful girlfriend, I was partying, and I was at the apex of the social pyramid. Little did I know then that all this would cost me the one girl who cared about me the most (in spite of me being an asshole to her most of the times).

"Steve, let’s get moving." Dustin hollered, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Before I could go back to pondering over things I walked faster to keep up with Dustin.

"So let me get this straight, you hid a creature you knew was dangerous to impress a girl you barely knew?" I asked.

"Okay that's just grossly oversimplifying what happened." Dustin retorted.

"I mean why would a girl like a nasty slug?" I shrugged.

"An inter-dimensional slug? Because it's awesome." Dustin dramatically moved his hands.

"Well even if she thought it was cool, which she didn't, I just... Don't know, I just feel like you're trying to hard man." The boy needed some tough love.

"Well not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?" Dustin walked a little faster like a child throwing a tantrum.

"It's not about the hair man. The key is to act like you don't care." I shrugged

"Even if you do?" Dustin slowed down a little.

"Yeah. Drives ‘em nuts." I said as I matched his pace.

"Is that why you behave like you don't care about (y/n) because you want to drive her nuts?" Dustin questioned softly looking to make sure (y/n) wasn't listening. Thankfully she was out of earshot.

“Whatever do you mean by that." I murmured.

“Going by what you said, you care for her but don't show her that because you want her to like you. So it means you like her too, right?" Dustin looked at me with furrowed brows.

"Of course I do like her Dustin I-

"Then why are you dating Nancy?"

"I am not... Nancy... I... She broke up with me." I said through gritted teeth.

"Oh brutal. So are you like gonna ask (y/n) out or something?" The younger boy asked.

"No...she... She wouldn't go out with me. She’s too special for someone as ordinary as me." After how I've treated her I doubt if she'd talk to me. I wanted to add.

"Yeah, she is special. Like max." Dustin softly murmured the last part.

"Hey, wait you're not in love with her, right?" Dustin frantically shook his head on hearing my question and repeatedly said no.

"Good, coz she will only break your heart." apparently that's what people you love do. That’s what Nancy did to me. And that's exactly what I did to (y/n).

TAG LIST:

@wefracturedmotivation @thoughstofaredhead @savannah-m-99 @spideyjoy @peanutlicker5000 @lovelydreamer-2000@mysticfluffyness

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riverdale-daydreams · 6 years ago

Text

Choices // Archie Andrews (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Archie Andrews x Reader

Warnings: None

(Part 2)

You walked into Pop’s after getting an urgent text from your favorite redhead, asking to come meet him at the diner. He didn’t give any details when you pressed him but just told you that he needed you. Which, was all you needed to hear in order to hop in your car and head over. It was what best friends did.

However, you still got a familiar ache in your heart when you looked around to see him in a booth in the back of Pop’s, so far back that you really had to look for him in order to even know he was there. He looked like he was deep in thought, a little more perplexed than usual but he still looked as handsome as ever under the fluorescent lights. From the look on his face you assumed it was more Riverdale mystery that he seemed to always be in the center of or another fight with someone from the Southside.

“Sup, Arch?” He looked up and your heart skipped a beat.

He had a plate of untouched fries and a milkshake in front of him, “Hey, thanks for coming.”

“So what was so urgent?” He slid his shake over towards you, since you two always shared when you came to Pop’s, and you took the liberty of taking some of his fries.

He looked torn, looking around as if he was waiting for his answer to walk right in the door. You waited, munching on fries and taking your time admiring how his hair was so perfectly done for someone who rarely looked in a mirror.

“Ronnie told me she loved me.” He looked embarrassed saying it and you choked on a fry.

“And?” Your heart sunk the same way it always did when you talked about his newest lovers.

“Well,” His eyes looked everywhere but at you, “I just kissed her and left.”

“Oh my god.” You smacked your forehead, “Archie she’s going to come after you. You know Veronica is not going to let you get off that easily.”

“I know!” He threw his hands up in defeat. “But I just can’t say it back. I like her, a lot. But, I don’t love her, you know? I don’t even...I don’t even know if I want to be with her like this anymore.”

You stared at him for a few moments until your phone buzzed. Your group message with Veronica and Betty popped up on your screen.

Does anyone know where Archie is?

“Well, she’s on the hunt for you so you better figure it out.” You showed him your phone and he groaned, running his hands through his hair.

Betty replied: Try Pop’s? What happened?

“She’s definitely on her way here.” You sighed.

Archie’s girl drama was always so exhausting. If it wasn’t a creepy music teacher or crazy Cheryl, it was Veronica being...well...Veronica.

He grabbed one of your hands in both of his, you immediately melting into how warm they were, “You gotta help me. Can I hide out at your place?”

His puppy dog eyes hit you where it hurt and you sighed, “Fine. Come on.”

He all but ran to your car, making impeccable timing because as soon as you were on the road you could see Veronica’s car pulling in. Archie cursed and ducked out of sight and as you passed her you waved, trying to seem natural. She, luckily, hadn’t noticed Archie and gave a half smile until you passed each other.

“You’re good.” Once you were down the road, admittedly farther than necessary, you let him pop is head back up. He rubbed his neck and you smirked, served him right for getting you mixed up in his drama.

“Why is this so complicated?” He groaned, sinking lower into the passenger seat.

You snorted, “You make it complicated. Just be honest with her and yourself.”

He swallowed hard, eyes trained on the road in front of you, so you kept going, “Look, I get it. These girls are great and I know you like them. But sometimes I think you rush into things. What do you want, Archie? Truly.”

He turned his head to you, “I like Ronnie, but as a good friend. I...I like someone else, but she’s not someone I can have.”

You immediately thought of Betty. Of course. You held in a sigh, even though all you wanted to do was bang your head against the steering wheel. You had been friends with Archie since you could remember and had a crush on him for a while, but he always seemed to be going after someone else. You had taken a step back once you realized Betty liked him, but once she was with Jughead you thought you might finally have a chance.

“Just take some time and think about it, okay? If it’s really what you want and you think it’s worth it then I support you.”

His face went a little red, “You think so?”

“Well, yeah.” You shrugged, then your phone lit up and Veronica’s name was screaming at you. No doubt she was about to grill you. Pop had definitely seen you both together, “But first, you need to figure things out with Veronica.”

You pulled into your driveway and sat in the car after you’d cut the engine, sitting in a mutual silence. You put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly, “Come on. I’ll let you hide out for awhile before you need to face the music.”

He grabbed your hand, eyes piercing into yours, “Thank you, [your name].”

He started to lace his fingers with yours and his eyes were searching your face, as if you had some all knowing answer. Your cheeks started getting hot before another call from Veronica made you jump. You split apart and answered, reluctantly. You could still feel the heat of his hand in yours.

“Hey, V. What’s up?” You watched him get out of the car and pull your door open, leaning against the door with a smirk, “Yeah I saw him for a minute at Pop’s He said he was gonna go on a run, I think. He said he had to clear his head. Why what’s up?”

As you talked you felt his eyes on you, that smirk only getting bigger when you rolled your eyes at the mess he’d made. He grabbed your bag from you and held your other hand, pulling you gently into your house.

Nothing was more awkward than going to school the following Monday and seeing Veronica chase down Archie and Archie dodging her at every chance he got.

“What’s up?” You walked into the common room where, thankfully, neither of the maybe lovebirds were.

Betty sighed, “Archie broke up with V yesterday and you know she’s not going to let that go without a better explanation.”

“Right. Awkward.” You collapsed onto the loveseat next to Kevin, your eyes feeling especially heavy thanks to Archie basically living at your house all weekend. You hadn’t minded, but you’d found yourself staying up later tan expected just talking about anything and everything.

You were always so jealous of Valerie and Veronica. They got to be with him in the way that you only dreamed of. You groaned out loud and didn’t realize until too late everyone had heard you.

“Are you okay?” Kevin rubbed your back, “You look tired.”

“I’m exhausted.” You whined, leaning on his shoulder, “It was a long night.”

“What were you up to?” Jug smirked, knowing all too well what you’d been up to since he made a short appearance when Archie was over.

You shot him a look, “Homework. This bio exam is going to kill me.”

Archie ran into the room, looking exhausted and paranoid, “Guys, you gotta help me. Please.”

Betty launched into a semi helpful but mostly chastising rant about how he should be more open and stop avoiding Veronica and he tried to look at the group for help, but no one budged.

Reggie came up behind you, totally unconcerned with Betty and Archie, “[Your name], just the girl I was looking for.”

“Reggie, the one I’m never looking for.” You teased, looking back at him.

He rolled his eyes, but grinned. He was too much for me sometimes but at other moments he was cool, “Do you have a date for homecoming?”

“Well,” You resisted the urge to look at Archie, “Not yet, no.”

“How about you and I go, huh? It’s a match made in heaven.” His grin turned into a smirk, and had you been any other girl it might have worked.

Everyone went quiet, just watching Reggie and you like you were a movie scene. You locked eyes with Archie and he looked pissed. He’d never been the biggest fan of Reggie outside of football so this probably wasn’t a moment he enjoyed. You’d probably get an earful about how much a jerk he was later, but right now you tried to ignore him.

Veronica hauled ass into the room and all hell broke loose. In an attempt to get away you pulled Reggie into the hallway 1.) to get out of the line of fire and 2.) to tell Reggie you’d have to take a rain check. It might have been risky but you wanted to ask Archie, worst case scenario you’d go as friends and at least you’d get an idea of where he stood with you.

You walked up to Archie’s door sometime after school. You were supposed to study for the bio exam together and you had decided that at the end of your study session you’d casually ask him to homecoming. You’d practiced a million times in your head on the way over and you weren’t gonna back down.

He hadn’t answered any texts so you assumed he was napping or on his way back from practice so you knocked on the door. Once. Twice. Then waited.

Fred came to the door, looking surprised, “[Your name], to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Is Archie home?” You looked past him, but nothing.

His eyebrows gathered, “Well, no, he went to Veronica’s.”

“Oh.” Suddenly you felt so awkward standing there, “We were supposed to study…but he wasn’t answering my texts so I just decided to come over.”

“Well,” He looked sympathetic, “You could wait inside if you want. I’ll try to get a hold of him for you.”

“No, that’s fine.” Your stomach dropped, feeling stupider by the minute, “Could you just give him these? I copied some notes he was having a hard time with.”

“Course.” He took them and before you turned he spoke a little louder, “I’m sorry he’s such an idiot.”

You knew he was talking about Archie forgetting about your study session, but it almost seemed like he meant something else.

~*~

TAG LIST; @ashwarren32

#riverdale #riverdale imagines #riverdale fanfics #riverdale fanfictions #archie andrews #archie x reader

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b-afterhours · 6 years ago

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To Know Him (part eight)

summary: AU set in the summer of 1959 Gloria is desperate to see a world beyond the church and the small Texan town she grew up in. One day she runs into a bad boy with striking green eyes in the local greaser gang the Saint’s of Duke Street. She had only heard of their existence and shenanigans but upon meeting Bill she can tell he’s not as bad as everyone had warned…

warnings: cursing, domestic abuse

if you’re seeing this for the first time you can read part one here and if you need to catch up on previous chapters go here.

Bill sat at the soda bar, looking around the small General Store with appreciation. It had become a sanctuary for him and Gloria. And there was Harvey the only true adult in town that let them be and never questioned their relationship. Bill didn’t know too much about him other than that the General Store was his wife’s Eileen’s dream. He opened it with her and for her and maintained it even when she passed a near decade ago. Suddenly, Bill felt bad for taking collections from his business upon remembering that. Being a Saint could be pretty scummy sometimes, he couldn’t deny that.

“Uh hey Harvey,” Bill sat up on the bar stool.

“Need anything,” he paused from wiping down the soft serve machine.

“No, not until Gloria gets here… I just wanted to say thanks.”

“Thanks?” He tilted his head, looking a bit perplexed.

“Yeah, I’m leaving town in a few days, um, with Gloria. So I just wanted to say thank you for giving us a place to be...”

“Oh, well uh no problem?” He chuckled.

“I’m mean it’s just hard to be together in this town cause of who her dad is and who I am...”

“I understand. I’m not too fond of that guy either,” he said leaning on the bar across from him. “He’s always dragging on his tab here. But anyway, I left you two alone ‘cause my ol’ girl Eileen’s father didn’t like me so much,” he shrugged with a slight smirk on his face.

“Really,” Bill laughed.

“Yeah, I was a coal miners son and she was the daughter of the man who owned the mine. He wasn’t so keen on her taking a shine on me. But I took care of her, we moved here and I lived the best years of my life before her lungs gave out.”

“W-What was it? Sorry, shouldn’t ask.” Bill bit his lip.

“Oh, it��s been years. It was black lung. Doc’ said it might have been from growing up around the mines, who knows...” He took a deep breath. “Well, where are you and Gloria headed then?”

“Austin, she’s going to college,” he smiled. “I’m going to look for a mechanic job there. Luckily, Ace has some friends at a shop that can get me on.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Harvey nodded approvingly. “Just take care of her, it makes everything worth it. And life a lot easier.” …

On her last Monday in town, Gloria was back to work in the church. She planned to book it out of town by Thursday so that she could become somewhat acquainted with Austin before her college orientation. She had barely left the General Store after having lunch with Bill and she could tell that something was pressing him. His knee kept nervously bouncing and knocking into hers on accident and he’d fiercely apologized every time. He was certainly acting different but she chalked it up to the fact that it may be because this was their last week together.

She was locked out of her fathers' office since she’d been back. So she was stuck with the meaningless task of straightening out hymn books on the back of the church pews and lightly dusting with a damp rag. She could hear voices from inside her fathers' office but she couldn’t distinctly make anything out. She was never the nosy type anyway and really didn’t care to know about her father’s work affairs. Her complete indifference faded once she saw Rick step out and she froze for a moment. He politely tipped his hat to her before turning on his nice dress shoes with a knowing grin on his face as he left. She felt sick, she was sure she was busted. Pastor Castillo soon emerged, she glanced at him while pretending to be busy with dusting. She expected him to be angry, surely Marty’s father had come to tell her father all about seeing her and Bill strolling in the night together but he smiled at her appreciatively.

“Ready to go home, Glo’,” he asked just like he did every evening.

The drive home was stuffy and uncomfortable. She could feel that he knew something but he hadn’t said anything indicating so. In fact, he hadn’t spoken a single word until they turned the corner to Lyndon Street where she lived.

“I’ll be taking you to Mrs. Robins later this evening,” he said to her holding open the front door open when they got home.

“Okay, daddy,” she simply nodded but she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. …

When she rode with her dad that evening, the air around them in the car hadn’t changed. Her father didn’t speak a lot in general so she figured she was just paranoid. He’d have done something or said something to her by now if Marty’s dad truly ratted her out. Still, she couldn’t shake the look her mother had given her on her way out the door. She looked concerned almost fearful, her lips were slightly moving as if she were muttering a prayer under her breath.

“W-will you be picking me up too, daddy?” Gloria asked she was tired of the silence surrounding them.

“It’s going to rain. What kind of father would I be if I had you walk all the way home… Why?” He gave her a shifty glance.

“Just wondering...”

“Odd thing to wonder, hm.”

When he dropped her off she was glad to be away from him. The car ride was claustrophobic. He remained parked by the curb for awhile even after Mrs. Robins had left. She took care of the girls as she normally would while peeping out the blinds every now and again. He had finally left while she was making dinner but she still occasionally checked the empty curb space. When she looked nothing was out of the usual except for the rain clouds billowing into town.

When she got Katie and Greta to bed she cleaned the kitchen almost spotless due to her anxiousness. Her flight sense was kicked in since she saw Rick at church. She thought about calling Bill to tell him not to show up, that it was too risky. But it would be of no use, he was most likely on his way already. …

Bill and V were out late picking up collections that same evening. He kept an eye on the clock tower knowing he needed to head over to Mrs. Robins by now. Besides he was tired of his litter brother teasing him for not proposing to Gloria during lunch like he told the rest of the Saint’s he would. His nerves were beginning to get the better of him.

“Hey, I need to go,” Bill said flicking his cigarette in the street.

“We still have the General Store?”

“No. We’re not collecting for Harvey anymore,” he said lifting a leg over his bike.

“What? Did Ace tell you something I don’t know?”

“No, I said so.” V scoffed at his order. Bill didn’t have the authority to make such rules in the first place. “I’m serious. Leave the man alone, even after I leave. And you can tell Ace that too.”

“I’m not telling him shit! When I’m short next month I’m blaming you.”

“I’ll send his share through the post then,” he said kicking his bike stand back and taking off.

When he arrived at Mrs. Robins street he hopped off his bike and pushed it the rest of the way worried about the noise. He gently set it to the side of the porch where Gloria’s bike was usually set but it wasn’t there tonight. He had barely knocked on the door when it swung open and Gloria grabbed the lapel of his leather jacket pulling him inside.

“Did anyone see you come here?” She said peeping out the blinds.

“No?” His brows pulled together. “Something wrong?”

Gloria shook her head. “No… I-I’m just losing it. Maybe...”

“Well you and me both,” he lightly laughed.

“What do you mean?” She said taking his hand and guiding him over to the couch.

“Oh… uh, I’ve been thinking about some things,” he bit his lip. He could feel his heart beating against his chest. “But uh first, did you call admissions and stuff?” He asked feeling silly for buying time but he had to settle his nerves somehow.

“Yeah, I have everything in order. Are you still driving me to the bus station in Waco?”

“About that, I was thinking, maybe, I could just take you all the way to Austin? And we can stay in a small motel until we find a house?”

Gloria’s face scrunched in a puzzled expression. “A house? What are you talking about?” She giggled still confused.

“I would like to go with you to Austin.”

Gloria’s eyes lit up, her jaw slightly dropped. “You’re really going to come with me?”

Bill nodded. “Only if you want me too.”

“Of course!” She threw her arms around him. “Oh, this is the best news I’ve heard all day,” she mumbled against his chest. “I was so worried about being on my own.”

“But uh I also wanted to ask you something else...” he paused. Gloria pulled away wondering what else on earth he could ask her. “I know Mrs. Robins isn’t the best place to ask but I really can’t wait any longer...” he dug into his inner jacket pocket and fished for the ring under his pack of smokes. “I really love you, Gloria. So don’t think I’m crazy for asking.”

“Crazy?” She laughed but it cut short when she saw the sparkling ruby on the ring Bill was holding up. She stared at it wide glassy eyes. She looked between it and Bill, his brows furrowed and the lines in his young face looked more defined than usual.

“W-Will you marry me, Gloria Esperanza Castillo? If shit goes to shit at least we’ll have each other, married, husband and wife?”

Gloria sat there stunned, her mouth open but words were difficult to choke out. “I uh… really?”

“I’m more serious than a heart attack right now,” his said, his eyes begging her to say yes already.

“That’s, quite the proposal-” she was interrupted by a hard knock on the front door. Alarmed, Gloria jumped up. “Come, hide behind the door,” she pulled him to his feet and had him stand to the side of the door where it could shield him. When she answered Marty was panting out of breath as if she ran a mile. Bill was in his own world staring at the ring still in his hand, Gloria hadn’t even said yes and he wasn’t sure if she was even going to.

“Gloria! You need to go home!” Marty barged in.

“Shhh. The girls are sleeping,” she said not catching on to the urgency she was still slightly in shock over Bill’s proposal.

“I’ll take care of them you need to go.”

Bill stepped out from behind the door, “What the hell is going on Marty?”

“Damn Bear, all these frights tonight are going to kill me!”

“Marty, what is going on?” Gloria asked as panic finally set in.

“I overheard my dad talking to your dad on the phone so I picked up the line in the kitchen to eavesdrop. Your dad was askin’ him if he was positive about seeing you and Bear a couple of days ago and all that. Made Greg drive me by your place and we could hear your parents arguing and all sorts of noise,” Marty paused to take a deep breath after regurgitation all that she knew. “You have to go now! Greg is outside in his truck, he’ll take you. I’m so sorry Gloria, my dad can be a real asshole.”

“You’re saying!” Bill said angrily, running a hand through his hair.

“C’mon Gloria,” Marty said pulling her out the house and into the drizzle that had started to lightly fall. “I’ll stay and take care of the Robins girls.”

Gloria turned her head as she was being shoved out, “Billie?”

“Duke Street! I’ll be home waiting up,” he told hollered to her. “It’s going to be okay.” At least he hoped so.

“Marty, stop. Wait,” she pushed her hands off and sprinted back up the porch crashing into Bill. “Yes!” She tugged on his jacket and on her tip toes kissed him. “If shit goes to shit right?” She whispered against his lips. “Hold on to the ring. I’ll see you soon!” She said sprinting off to Greg’s truck.

“Yes? Ring?” Marty tilted her head, suspiciously.

Bill shook his head, he was happy as hell but with everything else going on he needed to stay focused. He got on his bike and loudly revved it up.

“I’m marrying that girl, Marty,” he yelled over her engine.

Marty laughed. “You two better start running for the hills!” …

Gloria closed her eyes, bracing herself before stepping into her home. Along with the thunder and trickling rain, she could hear yelling and hysterics from her mother from the other side of the door. There was no more hiding, no more lies to tell. She took a deep breath and turned the doorknob slowly. Her mother was crying and yelling at her father who looked at her with his face twisted in anger. Her bike which she kept hidden was inside by the door and the things in her small tote were thrown about. The radio smashed by the fireplace, her dresses and bible were haphazardly dumped on the couch. Gloria slammed the door behind her announcing her presence, they were so busy yelling they hadn’t even noticed her.

“Gloria,” her mother gasped. “Honey,” she wiped her cheeks dry, “go to your room please,” she pointed towards the hall.

“Why are all my things out here?” She questioned.

“Excuse me?” Her father said. “I should ask you where the rest of your things that are from your room are?”

“Robert stop,” her mother put her hands on his chest to calm him but he swiped them away.

“I asked you a question, Gloria? And what are these things, huh?” He picked up the smashed radio and slammed it on the floor again causing the dial to shoot off across the floor. “And this bike? Who fixed this?”

“Robert, please. Gloria just got to your room,” her mother pleaded.

“Gloria answer me! Who fixed this bike!?”

Gloria froze. She wanted to scream, she didn’t have anything particular to say, she just wanted to yell but she couldn’t, she suddenly felt too small. Too many years of obedience and fear kept her from defending herself.

“So you’re not going to talk?” He threw his arms out angrily. “Was it that Saint boy? Bear or whatever? Are you talking to him? He fixed this didn’t he?”

“Oh for god's sake leave her be,” her mother said taking Gloria’s hand to take her to her room.

“Estella don’t you dare. She needs to answer me,” he grabbed his wife by the arm and pulled her away from their daughter. “She’s up to something.”

Gloria snapped her head back at him, “And so what if I am?! I don’t need to answer your questions, you seem to know everything since you went through my things!”

Her father’s eyes fluttered appalled at his daughters' tone towards him. “Th-that boy has gotten into your head! You’re not even yourself!” Spittle spewed as he shouted. “And where is your stuff? Are you planning to leave us? Your mother and father? You’re our only little girl.”

“I’m not your little girl. I’ve been more myself than I’ve ever been,” Gloria said smoothly, her voice unwavering.

“Gloria,” her mother cried, cowering by the fireplace now.

Her father chuckled darkly. “If you think you are leaving this house, ever again you are sorely mistaken. You will not see that Saint boy again, you hear me?”

“I beg to differ,” she said through her teeth as she seethed. She could only see her father in through the glare of tears that built out of anger.

“You will NOT see that boy again or so help me!” He said backing her against the corner of the room. “You are staying here and that’s it!”

“I’m leaving, I’m going to college. And I’m not sorry about it,” she stood her ground.

“After I’ve told you no? What has the devil done to you?”

“Devil? It’s you! If you would have let me be myself I wouldn’t have to go lying and sneaking around! I can’t even breathe wrong in this house without feeling like I’ve done something wrong! Can’t you see that it’s you!?”

“How dare you?” He was floored.

“Robert, stop this!” Estella yelled, finally gaining confidence. “Tell her… tell her why you won’t let her go to school...”

“Estella, stay out of this,” he turned his head towards her.

“Tell her what you did with all of our money! Her college fund, our mortgage! Tell her you gambled it all. She deserves the truth before you go making everything worse.”

“Gambling?” Gloria whispered looking up at her father, shame and embarrassment shadowing his face. “The barbershop,” she shook her head.

“Gloria…” he choked. “This-”

She pushed her way out of the corner he backed her into and rushed to the couch for her tote. Shoving her bible and clothes back in. “If you had bothered to open my acceptance letter, you’d have seen I have a full ride,” she said as tears spilled from her eyes. “But you wouldn’t have cared about that either. I don’t need your money, you don’t have any to begin with.”

Robert stomped towards Gloria violently pulling her arm and spinning her around to face him. His other hand was open, Gloria shut her eyes tight bracing for the blow of his slap but it never came. She cracked open her eyes and saw that her mother quickly twisted his arm back. Before he could push her mother to the ground she hit him in the temple with a half-empty bottle of gin. The women of the house both screamed when he hit the wood floor, knocked out cold.

“Get your things, Gloria. Hurry,” Estella said out of breath.

Gloria had no time to process what had just transpired in the shuffle. She picked up the ruined radio on the way to her bike and dropped her tote in the basket Bill at welded to the front of it and swung the door open. She turned her head back to the mess, her home, her mother taking a sip of the gin she just hit her husband in the head with.

“Mama?” Gloria cried.

“Gloria, just go. Go to him.”

And so Gloria ran with her bike to the sidewalk before hopping on. And she pedaled hard, the rain now pelting down, as she rode her bike to Duke Street.

PART NINE

tags: @imaginingyournotsolikelyfuture @bskarsgardfilth @billieskars@skrsgards @kikilikes @mixtapes-books@partypoison00 @fine-i-suppose@shannonxbarnes @darthdeziewok @kyralangdon @sexual-rendezvous @trybeingabitch @bill-skarsgard-writings @reinamysterio@mazarinqueen @fine-i-suppose@therealzoeyael @darthdeziewok @skarswhat @pennytdc@bskarsgardlove92 @frappylou @mixtapes-books @spacemerlady@stardustginger @lilzbean

(please let me know whether you’d like to be added/removed from tags)

#bill skarsgard #to know him #my bill writings

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diinofayce · 7 years ago

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Finger Painting 101

This is for @green-eyeddragonfanfiction ‘s 3k Follower Writing Challenge! Congratulations on the followers and thank you for all the amazing stories. I’m going to make this a series, I’m not sure how long yet. I’m just gonna go for the ride and see where it takes us.

Pairing: College!Steve Rogers x Reader | College A/U, Non-canonical | Word Count: 2,100 | Warnings: Mentions of drinking, swearing probably | A/N: This is my first A/U fic, so I hope you guys like it!

You sat in your creative writing class, tapping your fingers rhythmically on your blank notebook and staring blankly at Professor Laufeyson as he droned on about the project he was assigning for your final. He had a stack of outlines in his hands and finals weren’t for another two months so you let your brain succumb to the mush that was your Monday morning hangover. You knew better than to go with Wanda and Natasha to that party that Wilson was throwing, but Wanda had talked you into it arguing that it was your job as Natasha’s friend to help Wanda get Natasha over the crush she had on her volleyball coach; Clint Barton. Of course, if Nat was going to get herself a boyfriend in college it would be with a faculty member, she was always the flirting with danger type of girl, but you couldn’t risk one of your best friends getting kicked out of school so you went. You had come to the realization last year when you turned 21 that you didn’t have a drinking problem, you had a stopping problem. Once you got that first drink in your system it was all or nothing and it usually left you waking up the next morning in someone’s bathtub.

You stretched out the kink in your neck from sleeping with your face pressed against a bathtub tap and tried to focus in on what the professor was saying. Laufeyson waved the stack of papers above his head as he tucked a long black curl back behind his ear with his other hand.

“Now, I’ve written the names of a student on the top of an outline which will be handed out at random. They will be your partners in this assignment, as your grades will both equally reflect your final score I suggest you do your best work in tandem with them,” Professor Laufeyson stated coolly and started walking along the rows, grabbing random papers and setting them down on desktops in front of your classmates.

In front of you, you saw Wanda pick up the paper that was set in front of her and groan silently, dropping her head in her hands and tangling her fingers in her long brown hair. When your outline is dropped in front of you, you look in confusion at the name at the top: STEVEN ROGERS. You look over your shoulders behind you, frowning. You knew Steve, he was roommates with Sam Wilson - party thrower extraordinaire - you also knew that Steve was in no way an English major. He was Fine Art if you remembered Wilson’s drunk boasting, he had a weird way of showing his pride with each of his friends. With Steve it was drunk boasting, like a proud suburban mom, with their other roommate, Bucky, it was brotherly teasing. You couldn’t help but feel that you zoned out something very important with this project. You looked up suddenly as your classmates around you were collecting their things and heading to their next destination, in front of you Wanda still sat with her head in her hands.

You slung your backpack over your shoulder and headed up the row to your friend. “Hey, friendo, who’d you get?” Your voice was still dull and pained, the hangover pounding in your temples, you were trying to sound sunny and chipper and failing miserably. Wanda looked up at you, pushing her curtain of hair to the side and chuckling up at you.

“Still hurting from last night?” You nodded and waved your paper at her.

“I missed the details with the partners. Who’d you get partnered with?” You ask reaching for her paper. VISION was written on the top of her paper, another Fine Arts student and one that Wanda had a major crush on. Wanda was also thoroughly convinced that he hated her.

“We have to write a short story, partnered with one of Professor Odinson’s illustrations students to illustrate our story. I can’t believe I got partnered with Vision. Every time I try to talk to him he just stares at me like I’m an idiot or something,” Wanda moaned, raking her fingers through her long sandy locks again. “Who did you get?”

“Wilson’s roommate, Steve,” you answered as Wanda grabbed her backpack and got up, swinging it over her shoulder.

“See, that’s so much better, he’s so sweet,” Wanda grumbled staring at her project outline. “Wanna trade? If we trade Vision won't figure out I’m a complete suckass until after we get married and have kids.”

You laugh and shake your head. “You’re not a suckass, Wands, and I don’t think he thinks you’re an idiot. I think he likes you just as much and doesn’t know how to act around you either.”

Wanda made a scoffing noise and shook her head. “Preposterous.”

The walk back to your shared apartment was quick, the leftover snow of winter lining the edges of the sidewalk mixed in with mud and gravel. You and Wanda avoided cutting across the university lawn as it was basically a mud pit but paused as you noticed a bunch of guys out in the middle of it tossing a football to each other. The two of you stopped your trek when you noticed the four boys were soaking wet and covered in the mud, their game of football obviously leaning more towards tackle than touch.

“Oh, that’s Wilson and his roommates…and isn’t that your brother?” you commented suddenly, seeing the familiar streak of Pietro’s bleached hair dive under Sam’s outstretched arm.

Wanda clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head. “That boy is going to catch a cold playing in the mud like that. It’s supposed to rain too,” Wanda chastised, sounding more like Pietro’s mother than his twin sister. Wanda immediately started stomping across the field, mud flicking up onto her jeans. You grimace and follow suit, knowing that your Converses are going to need to take a round in the wash after this.

Wilson noticed the two of you approaching first, having just caught a stellar pass from Steve. “Hello, beautiful ladies,” he called and immediately ate dirt as Pietro rammed into his side and bulldozed him to the ground.

“Do not call my sister a beautiful lady,” he demanded, causing Wanda to gasp with indignation, splashing water from a dirty puddle at Sam before getting up and brushing grass off the front of his green long sleeved shirt.

Bucky and Steve jogged up to the rest of you, Bucky smiled lazily and Steve looked down at Sam in concern - helping his friend out of the mud before focusing on your and Wanda’s arrival.

“Pietro Django Maximoff,” Wanda scolded. “Your track season is about to start and you are going to get your death of cold out here.” Wanda grabbed onto her twin’s ear and started dragging him back towards the apartment building the bunch of them all lived in. You pressed your knuckles to your mouth to stifle your laughter as you watched them walk away from you, Pietro swearing angrily and causing other passing students to stop and stare. “Meet you back at home!” Wanda called back over her shoulder at you. You waved your hand in the air in acknowledgment before turning to raise an eyebrow at Sam.

“He wrecked you, Wilson,” you laughed in his face, smiling at Bucky and Steve. Bucky laughed and punched Sam square on the shoulder, Sam pushed him back in response.

“That’s because you came up all pretty and distracted me,” Sam accused, winking at you. You laughed and wiped a streak of mud off his cheek with his thumb.

“Hey, Bucky, Steve.” You greeted biting the corner of your lip as the two a once over.

Bucky’s long hair was slicked back with water and mud, his red Henley stuck to his chest and wet jeans stretched across his thick thighs. You knew plenty of girls in your classes (and more than a few guys) that swooned over the star quarterback of your university’s varsity football team. Bucky was here on an athletic scholarship and was taking classes in kinesiology. He gave a small wave his chest still rising and falling heavy from running around in the muck. But it was Steve’s perfect dazzling smile that made you feel like you got punched in the gut. His blue, v-neck t-shirt that was already a size too small from him clung to his torso leaving nothing about his toned physic to the imagination. He wore khaki cargo shorts that fell just below his knees that were streaked with mud and he had a small cut under his right eye that had stopped bleeding but was obviously fresh.

“Hey, Y/N,” Steve said jovially, laughter dancing in his blue eyes. “Good to see you up and out of our bathtub.”

“Ah, yes. Well, thanks for waking me up in time for class,” you feel yourself blush. “You’re going to get dirt in that cut, Rogers. Can’t have you getting an infection and dying before our finals project,” you teased. You were suddenly aware that you were just wearing an over-sized university hoodie, a pair of yoga pants and you hadn’t even bothered to brush your hair before throwing it up in a tie.

“Our finals project?” Steve asked, resting his hands on his hips and cocking his head to the side.

“Oh! Have you not had your Illustrations class yet? Fuck, here,” you handed him the outline that was still sitting on top of the binder in your arms. Bucky and Sam looked over Steve’s shoulders, it was pretty early in the semester to be handed the details of a classes finals project, you still had two months left in the school year most classes wouldn’t be starting projects for another month.

Steve smiled and handed the paper back to you, the white sheet now smudged with his muddy fingerprints. “This looks like it will actually be fun!” He said lightheartedly. “And at least I know I have a good partner. I have my illustrations class in two hours, do you want to get dinner in the caf and talk details?”

You nod, trying not to look too eager. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll be around that part of campus around four after a class if that works for you?”

“Sounds like a date,” Steve said, looking behind him and chuckling softly as Barnes and Wilson already took back off across the field throwing the ball at each other.

“Yeah, see you then,” you wave meekly as he ran off after them after giving you a wink. Turning on your heels you finish the trudge back to your apartment.

~*~

Back at your apartment, you sat on your couch with Wanda and Pietro, Natasha was petering around in the kitchen making coffee for everyone. Pietro had changed into an over-sized long sleeve shirt and basketball shorts that he kept in one of Wanda’s drawers for when he got drunk and passed out on your couch.

“It’s not actually a date, Wands, you’re taking it at face value,” you argued with Wanda who was being insistent that Steve’s words had a deeper meaning. “We’ve only talked a handful of times at the parties at their place and it wasn’t about anything interesting.”

“He said, it’s a date,” Wanda insisted further.

“It’s a figure of speech, Wanda,” Natasha agreed, coming into the living room with four cups of coffee in her hands. She set them down on the coffee table and curled up in their battered armchair with hers. You reach forward to pick up yours and sip it with a hum of gratitude. Natasha made the best coffee and after slopping across the cold university grounds had given her a chill that only the red head’s coffee could cure.

“Besides, Rogers has a girlfriend,” Pietro said over the chipped rim of his mug. “Some girl named Peggy from his high school, she’s at a school out East in New Jersey or something.”

You don’t know why your heart sank or you felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment. Sure, Steve was a gorgeous piece of man, but maybe he had some really off-putting mannerisms. You had no idea because you literally had one sober interaction with him and that was the one out on the university lawn earlier. Your friends changed the topic of conversation easily enough, moving onto Wanda’s predicament of finals partner, Pietro getting ready for the start of track season, and Natasha’s tryst with Coach Barton. You nodded along and laughed on cue, but your mind was on four o’clock and your date/not-date with Steve Rogers.

NEXT CHAPTER

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