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libraryofgage · 1 year ago

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Good Vibrations Part One

Hello, it's me, back at it again with another Steddie AU.

Anyway, if I were tagging this AU, these would be the most important ones: Deaf Steve Harrington; Tooth-rotting Fluff; Getting Together

If you wanna be tagged in future parts, just let me know!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

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Steve has blown through three pairs of hearing aids in the past year. The first pair had lasted a few years and needed replacement because of normal wear and tear. The second pair was sacrificed during that fight with Jonathan. He hadn't been wearing them, but they'd been in Steve's pocket, and he'd landed at just the right angle to feel them shatter. The third pair was taken by the Russians because, despite Robin's shouting and cursing at them for being dumbasses (and this was before she actually knew what they were for), they accused him of recording their kidnapping and torture.

Honestly, he wouldn't recommend fighting Russians and Billy and Mind Flayers and driving while nearly totally deaf.

The funniest part of it all, though, is that Steve doesn't even use hearing aids regularly. He normally only wears them at home. The pair lost to Jonathan were present because, well, that whole day had been a lot for Steve, and he needed the comfort of knowing he could stop reading lips the moment it became too exhausting for him. The pair lost to the Russians was because he'd been getting ready to tell Robin about being deaf. She'd already clocked the weird things he does (well, weird to her, normal to Steve), and he figured letting her in on the big secret would bring them a little closer.

Of course, that didn't go the way he expected. Robin thought he was confessing love and decided to beat him to the punch. That's how he learned Robin is a lesbian, and Steve couldn't let her be the only one admitting to something like that, so he told her about being bi and his long-standing, hopeless crush. And being deaf. But the bi with a crush thing seemed more important in the moment. She took it in stride, it brought them closer, and then Robin asked if Steve could teach her sign language.

Which meant that Steve had to learn sign language because he never had. Between not wanting to feel even more different than he already did and trying to convince his parents that, really, everything was fine and he didn't need to go to a special school for deaf and hard-of-hearing kids, he'd never learned. Learning it had somehow felt like an admission of weakness, and that was the last thing he wanted. But he learned for Robin, and they stumbled through sign language together, creating new signs only they knew.

But that's all in the past now, and Steve is working his ass off at Family Video to afford a new pair because he refuses to ask his parents for money. If he asks them, they'll come back, and that's the last thing he wants. They don't need to have all their worries confirmed that Steve is helpless, and he doesn't want them anywhere near Hawkins "Hellscape" Indiana.

So. Working his ass off, taking extra shifts, and babysitting the kids as much as he can to make up for the whole Friends and Family Discount he gives their parents. He's exhausted, but he gets to recharge somewhat during his lunch break.

About a ten-minute walk from the Family Video is a record store, which Steve has started visiting daily to just breathe. The lone worker in the store is usually too busy listening to her own music to pay Steve any attention, letting him wander and try to determine which records will best serve him.

Steve drifts over to the rock and heavy metal section, hoping to find a new album but unsurprised when he doesn't. He browses through them anyway, moving past Metallica and Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. He already has all of these albums on his shelf at home. He has the cassette tapes for them, too.

But he really wants something new. He likes the novelty of experiencing unfamiliar vibrations through the speaker, letting them thrum through his fingertips and into his bones. It's fun and relaxing, and after all the bullshit he's been through lately, he probably deserves something relaxing.

After glancing over a few more familiar albums, Steve sighs and glances at the counter by the door. The lone worker is standing there, headphones over her ears, and idly flipping through a magazine. She's chewing gum, and Steve braces himself for the sheer hell of trying to read her lips without making it obvious he's reading her lips while she's got something in her mouth to disrupt the normal shape of words and sounds.

But he has to try. Steve takes one more deep breath before walking over, shoving his hands into his pockets when he comes to a stop at the counter. The girl raises a hand, motioning for him to wait, so he stays quiet as she finishes reading her page. She flips to the next one before looking up, not making any move to pull her headphones off.

"Hi. Do you have any new rock or metal albums coming in soon," Steve asks, feeling the vibrations of speech in his throat and hoping his words aren't too loud.

They don't seem to be. The girl doesn't flinch or pull back. She just looks him up and down, taking in the polo shirt and the nice khakis and the Family Video vest he forgot to take off before leaving. Finally, her neck and shoulders jerk slightly, and Steve knows she's huffed in annoyance. "No," she says, the word clear enough in the shape of her lips for Steve to know it immediately.

He frowns slightly, his fingernails digging into his palms. Steve wouldn't mind just leaving now, but something keeps him there. He just...he really wants new music. He needs something new. "Are there gonna be any shows nearby?" he asks.

The girl rolls her eyes and says something, her mouth distorted by gum-chewing. Steve can barely make out the words "you" and "check" from her response. Thankfully, it's accompanied by a vague gesture at something behind him. Steve looks over his shoulder to see a bulletin board with flyers plastered across it.

"Right. Thanks," he says, nodding to her before walking over. The flyers are all different colors with various fonts that scream for Steve's attention. Some of them are for bands, some are advertisements of garage sales or instruments in need of a new home, and others are just business flyers from stores nearby.

He's seen the bulletin board before, but he's never actually paid attention to it. Steve has always been laser-focused on browsing the records. But now, Steve carefully reviews each flyer advertising shows. Some are for comedy shows, which he immediately dismisses. One seems promising, but then he sees how far it is, and Steve definitely can't do an overnight trip like that.

Finally, Steve sees a flyer advertising a show at the Hideout later that week. It's close enough that he won't be out overnight. The place is kind of seedy, but Steve figures he can find some corner near the stage to hide. Or he can bring Robin and let her help him navigate any potential social situations. He tugs the flyer off the board, gaze lingering on the "Corroded Coffin" emblazoned across the top.

He knows the band. Of course, he knows the band. He's extremely familiar with their singer. From a distance. Honestly, Eddie Munson probably doesn't have the best impression of him, but Steve's heart never really cared about that. Because Eddie is like everything Steve wants to be: he's loud and unafraid of being so, he doesn't care about his image and how others perceive him, and he looks like his laugh sounds beautiful. Steve wouldn't know if he's actually right about that last point, but Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, eyes crinkled and hand over his stomach like his muscles ache.

His mouth suddenly feels dry, but he's also filled with unprecedented courage. Steve has graduated (barely), and that means a significantly lower chance of running into Eddie during the day if watching the show somehow goes wrong.

Steve folds the flyer into quarters and stuffs it into his back pocket. He'll be overly aware of it being there until Robin starts her shift and he can show it to her, but that's okay. He throws a quick thanks over his shoulder as he leaves the shop, glancing up at the bell he can't hear that signals the door's opening. He vaguely remembers what bells are supposed to sound like (he'd heard a few before losing the ability to hear them), but he doesn't let himself dwell on it.

Instead, he focuses on the trip back to Family Video, keeping an eye on the road to watch for any cars he wouldn't notice otherwise.

----

When the final bell rings, Eddie Munson can't get out of class fast enough. He'd been packed for the last five minutes, and he slid out of his seat the moment that first peal rang out. He has a gig to prepare for, and every second counts. At least, each second counts until he notices something (or someone) that could prove entertaining for a while.

He spots Dustin alone near one of the exits, and Eddie decides to relieve the kid of his isolation. He waits until he's behind Dustin to shout, "Henderson!" and throw his arm over the kid's shoulders, ignoring the way he jumps like he'd been expecting an attack.

"Holy shit!" Dustin shrieks, jerking back to look up at Eddie. "Don't do that, man, you're gonna give me a heart attack."

Eddie snorts, waving away Dustin's concern as he continues toward the exit. The general flow of students trying to get out helps him along, and Dustin doesn't seem to realize they're actually moving until they've gotten into direct sunlight. "You're fine," Eddie says, "Anyway, whatcha doing all alone, Henderson? Lose your way?"

"No, I have...stuff to do today," Dustin says, shrugging as he blinks to acclimate to the sunlight.

Oh, yeah, way too cryptic for Eddie to not dig for more. "Stuff? What kinda stuff? Got a hot date? Going shopping with your mom?" he asks, and then he gasps dramatically and moves to stand in Dustin's way. He puts both hands on his shoulders and very seriously says, "Be honest, Henderson, you're seeing another DM, aren't you?"

Dustin stares at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and shrugging his hands off. "Who else in this town DMs?" he asks, "Other than Will, I guess, but he's still working on a campaign."

"Fair," Eddie concedes, "so, whatcha really doing?"

After a few seconds of getting nudged by the students around them, Dustin sighs and says, "I have chores, okay? But that doesn't sound cool to say, does it?"

Fair. Eddie nods in agreement and moves out of Dustin's way, continuing to follow him. "So, what, your mom picking you up today?" he asks.

"No, Steve."

"Oh, the famous Steve."

Dustin nods, looking over the parking lot before pointing to one end. "Yeah, he's awesome," Dustin says as Eddie follows the direction of his finger.

And standing there, leaning against the hood of his car and looking to the side where a group of trees is swaying in the breeze, is Steve Harrington. Steve "The Hair" Harrington. King Steve. The worst thing, Eddie thinks, is that Steve looks good. His hair is still perfect, of course, and his stupid little striped shirt is pulling against his biceps and riding up just enough for Eddie to see a tiny sliver of tanned skin above his jeans. He looks a little tense, but Eddie chalks that up to him being back on the campus after already graduating.

"Harrington? You've been talking about Steve Harrington this whole time?" Eddie asks, his voice a little strained, "How the fuck do you know Steve Harrington?"

"He's my babysitter," Dustin says, his voice implying that much should have been obvious, but Eddie wants to grab his shoulders and shake until his head rolls off.

Steve Harrington doesn't babysit. He doesn't know nerds that talk about D&D. He doesn't drive nerds around. At least, he never did in high school. Granted, Eddie never actually talked to Steve, but everybody knew that Steve Harrington was too cool for, well, anything that wasn't the typical jock and popular guy shit.

As he's thinking about the last time he saw Steve Harrington (in the halls, while the guy had bruises and looked worse for wear), they get within shouting distance. And Eddie has zero impulse control when Wayne isn't around, so he doesn't think before shouting, "Hey, Harrington!"

Next to him, Dustin whips his head to glare at Eddie. And Steve Harrington doesn't fucking react. He just keeps staring at that group of trees like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. "Dude," Dustin says, grabbing Eddie's arm and yanking harshly, "don't shout like that."

Eddie frowns, anger beginning to simmer in his stomach at the complete lack of acknowledgment. "Why are you upset with me?" he asks, gesturing at Steve as he continues, "I'm not the one being a douchebag here."

Dustin opens his mouth, about to say something, only to snap it shut once more. He frowns like he's just realized he can't say something, and huffs with frustration. "Just...just don't do that," he finally says, keeping a hand on Eddie's arm and dragging him across the parking lot. And, yeah, something is definitely weird here.

Instead of just walking up to Steve, they make a large arch until they're within Steve's line of sight.

Eddie watches as Steve notices them, seeing Dustin first and pushing off the car. He relaxes for a split second until he sees Eddie and his shoulders tense again.

Great.

Once they're close enough for Eddie to count the moles above the collar of Steve's shirt, Dustin grins and says, "Hey, Steve." But it's odd, because Eddie has never heard Dustin talk this slow or this carefully, like he's doing his best to enunciate his words.

Steve flashes a grin and ruffles Dustin's hair. "Hey, twerp, you're late," he says. He then glances at Eddie, his grin becoming a little smaller, and says, "Hey, Munson."

Wait. Steve Harrington knows Eddie's name? And he called him by it? He said Munson, not Freak. Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before nodding. "Harrington," he says, "how the fuck did you become a babysitter?"

Is he just imagining things, or is Steve looking at his mouth? Like, really intensely. He's definitely not, because Steve looks up after a few seconds with a raised eyebrow. "I needed some extra cash. Also, don't swear around Dustin. I'm the one who gets in trouble when he curses in front of his mom."

Something about the words makes Eddie grin. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be talking to Steve Harrington. And he would have laughed you into Mordor itself if you suggested their conversation would be about Dustin Henderson swearing in front of his mother. "What's his mom do when he swears?" he asks.

Because he can feel the conversation veering into something potentially embarrassing for him, Dustin lets go of Eddie and starts pushing Steve toward the driver's side of his car. "Okay, we gotta go. So many chores, so little time," he says, his voice back to that normal speed and enunciation.

Steve frowns slightly, looking down at Dustin and tilting his head just slightly. "What?" he asks. Instead of actually answering, Dustin just makes some vague gesture with his hand and looks at the car. "Oh, right. Go ahead and get in the car. And, uh, see you later, Munson."

"Is that a promise?" Eddie asks before he can think better of it.

Steve pauses, looking at Eddie's mouth with a slight scrunch to his nose. He seems to be considering something as Dustin scrambles into the passenger seat, watching them with narrowed eyes. Honestly, Eddie is surprised he's not blasting the horn to hurry Steve up. Finally, Steve comes to a decision and meets Eddie's eyes again. "Your band has a show tonight, right? At the Hideout? I was planning to go. So, yeah, I'll see you then, I guess."

And with that, like he hasn't just fucking rocked Eddie's world, Steve Harrington gets into his car. He makes sure Dustin is buckled before waving at Eddie and pulling out of the parking spot.

Eddie finds himself waving back, staring dumbly at the car as it pulls onto the street. It only hits him a few seconds later that Steve Harrington is coming to his show. At the Hideout. His metal show. A Corroded Coffin gig at the Hideout.

Holy. Shit.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #deaf steve harrington #Good Vibrations Steddie #that's the tag for this one lmao #it's all fluff i swear #I hope you guys have as much fun reading it that I have writing it!

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roosterforme · 6 months ago

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 14 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After the perfect weekend, three days without Bradley is harder than you could have ever imagined. It makes you think about what it will be like when you have to go months without each other. When he visits your classroom for the second time, your students make him feel welcome as they come up with an amazing idea.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, unprotected sex, oral sex, smut, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You were at Bradley's house on Sunday night a lot later than you originally anticipated, but you just couldn't seem to make yourself leave. He kept luring you back to the couch with the promise of one more quick snuggle, and you fell for it every single time.

"I have to get my lesson plans in order for tomorrow," you whispered as you kissed your way along the scars on his cheek from your spot on his lap.

"Bring them with you next time," he murmured, big hands warm on your lower back.

"You wouldn't mind?" You knew what a turnoff it was for your ex whenever you even mentioned your classroom full of kids, so it would have never occurred to you to bring your work with you down to Coronado for the weekend.

Bradley's fingers stroked your bare skin as he said, "Maybe I could help you? I actually like a lot of the same stuff as your fourth graders. Like airplanes and dogs and their teacher."

You snorted with laughter against his neck, but you said, "Next weekend I'll bring my lesson plans with me."

"Excellent," he murmured. "Then you can stay even later."

You knew without a doubt that in a few more weeks, you'd be sleeping over on Sunday night and driving straight to work on Monday morning if he asked you to. How could you not? The entire weekend had been incredible even with Vanessa crashing in on Friday. Being around Bradley felt like something close to magic with the way he talked to you and touched you. Earlier this morning, you sent him out for a run with Natasha, and he came back to you all sweaty and needy. You even got an adorable photo of him stopping to tie his shoe on a bench which his best friend texted you. And after lunch, you took a spider outside for him when he begged you to get rid of it, and he thanked you with at least a hundred kisses.

But now, when you tried to stand up, Bradley pouted and wrapped his arms around you a little tighter. "I'll see you when you come up to my school on Wednesday," you whispered with a smile.

"That's so far away," he groaned, letting his arms go limp at his sides as you wiggled yourself free. "I don't like that at all."

You pressed your lips together to keep the massive, goofy smile that threatened to take over your entire face at bay while you collected your things. Bradley watched your every movement as you said, "It's not like I won't text you some potentially dirty photos and call you just to tell you I love you."

He was on his feet right then and there with a ridiculous looking grin of his own. "Say it again, Gorgeous."

You looked up at him as he closed the distance with three long strides, and you said, "I love you."

It took you another twenty minutes to finish making out with him, and then he carried everything out to your car where you made out a little bit more. You got home really quite late.

-----------------------------

On Wednesday morning, you made the rookie mistake of telling your kids that a visitor would be spending the afternoon in your classroom, but you were too excited about it to keep quiet.

"Is it Lieutenant Bradshaw?" Violet asked immediately as she bobbed in her seat.

"You'll just have to wait and see," you replied, getting your language arts notes ready to teach.

"Is he bringing his Super Hornet with him?" Harrison practically screamed.

"He can't bring a fighter jet to school," Jayden scoffed. "It would take up too many parking spots."

"I never even said who our special visitor is!" you reminded them as you started writing a few spelling words on the board.

Nia sighed behind you and murmured, "If it's not Lieutenant Bradshaw, then what's the point?"

You had to stifle your laughter, because you didn't disagree. You weren't even sure what he had in store for your kids, but he insisted he was going to need at least two hours with them. When you had questioned him about getting leave from base for the afternoon, he just laughed. "The Navy loves it when we do classroom outreach. I'm sure my commanding officers will all make it a point to thank me for volunteering, so there's no way I'm telling them that I'm visiting my girlfriend's school. But I'm sure they'll catch on by the fourth or fifth time I ask for the afternoon off."

Whenever he used the word girlfriend, you couldn't stop smiling. And the insinuation that he would be visiting multiple times made you giddy. You just had to get through the morning and lunchtime, and then he would be here.

"Spelling words. Let's focus," you told your class. "We can worry about our visitor in a few more hours." But they were already antsy, and they remained that way until you sent them to the lunchroom to cause some havoc without you. That's when you realized that you were antsy, too. How in the world were you already so attached to Bradley that three days apart felt like a week? How were you supposed to do a deployment when the time came? Your heart ached a little bit whenever you thought about spending months away from him.

You picked at your lunch at your desk and checked your phone. Bradley texted you nearly an hour ago to let you know that he was on his way up which prompted you to scroll through some of the photos of him you had saved. "It never gets old," you muttered as you examined the first picture he ever sent you of his face. He looked so tall and handsome on the deck of the aircraft carrier, and you had to stop gawking when your kids came back to the room.

"Is Lieutenant Bradshaw coming soon?" Oliver whined on his way to his desk. "It's taking forever!"

There was no point in denying that he was the special guest, so you just said, "He should be here soon. Practice your spelling words quietly at your desk, okay?"

You walked to your door and peeked out into the hallway. The front office knew he was coming ahead of time today, so there shouldn't be much of a holdup. That's when you saw him. His combat boots squeaked on the floor as he turned the corner, and he ran his fingers through his wavy hair. Each long stride brought him closer to you, and you realized he was holding a large envelope that said CLASSIFIED as well as a coffee from Starbucks in his other hand.

"Gorgeous," he called out when his gaze met yours, and you memorized the way his pace grew quicker so he could get to you. He looked so big and strong in his flight suit, it was unreal. "I missed you," he promised, brown eyes wide and sincere, and then his lips were on yours in the sweetest kiss.

An eruption of voices from inside your classroom started a chorus of, "Oooooh!" as you laughed against your boyfriend's lips.

"She's kissing Lieutenant Bradshaw!" Violet hissed.

"I already told you they're getting married," Jayden insisted.

"I think they might already be married," Nia whispered.

"No, because her name would be Mrs. Lieutenant Bradshaw," Oliver told everyone while Bradley erupted into laughter as well.

"Are you ready for this disaster?" you ask as you nodded toward your open door where eighteen pairs of eyes were staring back at the two of you.

"Absolutely," he rasped. "Nothing like spending an afternoon with all of my pen pals."

------------------------------

Bradley followed you to the front of your classroom, fighting the urge to put his hands on your waist and pull you close the entire way. Your kids already saw him kiss you, for the second time. Maybe the third time if some of them witnessed him with his lips all over yours in the parking lot last week. You were holding the coffee he brought for you and glancing back to smile over your shoulder at him, and he had to remind himself not to cause too much of a scene in front of your class.

"What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?" you asked with a smile.

"Thank you!" your students all shouted in unison.

You were smirking at him as you said, "Thanks for visiting us again today, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"I can't seem to stay away," he replied, and when he looked up at the kids sitting at their desks, he realized they were as excited to see him as he was to see them. "I hope you're not sick of me yet."

Violet was shaking her head with her pencil poised over her notebook like she was ready to record everything Bradley said. Henry was halfway onto the top of his desk in anticipation. Jayden shouted out, "No way! You're the coolest adult I ever met!"

Bradley tried to hide his smile, but it was impossible. "You're the eighteen coolest kids I've ever met," he promised. Then he winked at you and said, "And you have a way cooler teacher than I ever had in elementary school." You sipped your coffee happily as he held up the envelope in his hand and said, "I brought a bunch of stuff with me today, including blueprints for some jets that are flown in the Navy. But first, does anyone have any questions they want me to try to answer?"

When one girl's hand shot into the air before the others, he pointed to her and said, "You're Nia, right?"

She nodded as you muttered, "I can't believe you remember who is which kid."

"Yes!" Nia said before pointing from you to Bradley. "Our teacher is really pretty, and we all saw you give her a kiss. Did you marry her?"

Bradley chuckled, and you nearly dropped your drink before ducking away from him. "Uh... not yet, Nia," he told the girl, and her face fell.

"Well, when are you going to?"

Bradley glanced toward Jayden who asked the follow up question and said, "I'm kind of hoping for next summer, but I'll let her decide."

You set the coffee down on your desk and turned to face him with surprise in your eyes. "How about we stay on the topic of aviation?" you asked your class, but your voice sounded soft and breathy. "What's in the classified envelope, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" you asked, barely meeting his eyes as you smiled. "Is it really classified?"

Bradley cleared his throat and murmured, "Nah, I just thought it looked cooler." He really wanted to hear your thoughts on his comment about next summer, but that could wait. "But, at one point in time, these blueprints really were classified government property." He emptied the contents out onto Harrison's desk in the row and held up the first blueprint. "Does this look familiar to anyone? I might have sent your teacher a picture of me sitting in the cockpit of this type of jet."

"A Super Hornet!" called Oliver as he bounced in his seat.

"That's right," Bradley told him. "Anyone remember the other name for it?"

When nobody else immediately responded, you said, "It's called the F/A-18. Right?"

"Yeah," he told you with a grin. "That's a gold star and bonus points for the teacher."

You still seemed to be stuck somewhere between surprised and embarrassed, but you returned his smile and asked, "Which other blueprints do you have there?"

Bradley passed around the copy of the F-35 Lightning II before ultimately letting Oliver keep it. "I do recall you saying that flying it would be like slam dunking off the back of a dragon," he said as Oliver's entire face lit up. Then he let everyone look at the blueprints for the EA-18 Growler, the E-2 Hawkeye, and the P-8 Poseidon. There was still a stack in front of him as he said, "There are actually nineteen blueprints here, so everyone can take one home." He quickly swiped the Super Hornet from the pile and walked it over to you. "This one's yours," he told you softly, doing his best to fight the urge to kiss you.

"Cool!" shouted Henry as the blueprints ended up all over the desks. The kids were still examining them loudly as you took the one for the aircraft Bradley flew in your hands.

"Thanks," you whispered, holding it against your chest. "And thanks for coming today."

"Lieutenant Bradshaw?" called Violet. "What happens when one of the aircrafts is broken? Do all the mechanics know how to fix all the airplanes? Or do they only learn how to fix one kind each? And where do they fix them? And did your jet ever need a mechanic?"

"That kid has aviator written all over her," Bradley muttered, letting his fingers brush the side of your hand as he walked toward Violet. "You remember my friend Marty? The mechanic from some of the videos I sent?" When she nodded, Bradley said, "Well, he knows how to fix the Super Hornets and a few other kinds of planes, too. He fixes mine all the time. That's why mechanics get deployed to aircraft carriers just like aviators do. But they also work on base on North Island in San Diego. Where I work most of the time."

Violet looked stunned. "So there are mechanics who fix the planes in San Diego?"

"Yep," Bradley replied as she clutched one of the blueprints in both hands. "In fact, I saw Marty yesterday, fixing part of a combustion chamber in the hangar when I got out of my jet."

Violet squeaked. "Oh, please, Lieutenant Bradshaw. Please, let us go to work with you one day!"

He started laughing as he turned back to look at you, but you just shrugged in response. "I mean, it would be cool," you mused as the rest of your kids chimed in.

"We could see your Super Hornet with your name on the side!"

"We could see all the airplanes!"

"We could talk to Marty!"

"We learned so much about aviation this year! Please?"

Bradley looked around the room and everyone was looking right back at him, waiting for an answer. When he met your eyes, he asked, "Are they allowed to go on a field trip?"

----------------------------

When the final dismissal bell rang and your classroom emptied out, you kicked the door closed, leaving you alone with your boyfriend. "Are you serious right now?" you asked with a smile as he pushed you back against the wall and started kissing your neck. "I inquired about taking a field trip to the Naval base ages ago, and everyone essentially told me it's pretty much impossible."

"Mmm," he hummed against your jaw as you pulled him closer. "If you want it, I'll make it happen, Gorgeous."

Your mind was swirling with too much information that didn't all quite make sense but all sounded beautiful nevertheless. "I want it," you whispered. "I want the field trip, and I want you to come back to my place."

He was running the tip of his nose along your ear, and you were slowly melting. "I don't know if I can wait that long. I haven't seen you in three days," he rasped, making you shiver.

"What are you going to do when you're deployed?" you asked him softly, trailing your fingers through his wavy hair.

Bradley groaned. "Baby, we are not talking about that right now."

His deliberate kisses made their way from your neck to your lips, but after a few seconds, you couldn't hold back any longer. You broke the kiss. "Were you serious? About next summer? You and me?"

Bradley's expression was soft as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip and said, "Okay, that we can talk about." Your heart was hammering in your chest as you kissed the side of his thumb. "Gorgeous," he rasped. "Is it really so crazy that I'm convinced we have a future together?"

"No." Your answer was immediate and sincere, because you already knew you felt the same way. "It's not crazy."

He kissed you hard on the lips before taking a step away from you. "Let's get out of here. I'm not going to be able to behave for much longer."

You were all smiles as you added, "And you're going to need to be fed soon."

"See? You already know exactly how to handle me."

Bradley carried your heavy tote bag and travel mug to your car while you held onto the Super Hornet blueprint, and then he followed you back to your apartment in his Bronco. It was almost comical having him there, taking up so much space in each small room, but your smile vanished when he looked you up and down with those pretty brown eyes.

"We should definitely fool around before we eat dinner," you said, and he immediately had you in his arms.

"A hundred percent," he replied, stumbling along to your bedroom. His flight suit was rough against your fingers, but his kisses were soft and sweet. Half of your clothing was off by the time you reached your bed, but he was still trying to pull one of his long sleeves down his arm.

"This is awkward," he mumbled with a laugh as you unhooked your bra. "This fucking flight suit." His movements slowed even more as he watched you drop to your knees in front of him in just your tiny underwear, and you started untying his boots. You looked up at him as you helped him take them off and tossed them aside, and then you pulled his flight suit down to his thighs. "Oh fuck," he whispered, running his fingers along your cheek as you kissed his erection through his briefs.

With his flight suit around his ankles, you looked up at his face and reached for the elastic waistband of his underwear. "Is this okay?" You tugged them down, his cock springing free, and you ran your lips along the tip, waiting for permission to do more.

"Holy shit," he gasped, yanking his undershirt over his head and nodding enthusiastically. "This is never not going to be okay."

You laughed softly before parting your lips and taking the velvety soft head of his cock onto your tongue. Bradley's eyes were glued to your mouth as you swirled your tongue in deliberately slow circles before taking him a little deeper. He was big and thick, but you took him as far as you could over and over, bobbing your head until your eyes watered.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groaned when you licked at the strands of your saliva dripping down his balls. "Gorgeous. You're filthy." You looked up at him as you rubbed your cheek against his thigh. "And so damn sweet, Baby."

You nuzzled and kissed along his balls, taking his throbbing cock in one hand and giving him a squeeze. Bradley groaned and readjusted his footing, so you did it again. Now he was muttering your name softly and running his fingers along your hair as you sucked on his balls and jerked him off. He let you go for a few minutes, his abs flexing with each labored breath he took, and then you started to suck his cock again.

"Okay, okay," he eventually rasped, reaching for your shoulders and yanking you carefully to your feet. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips were parted as you turned away from him and got onto your hands and knees on the bed. He made a strangled noise, but as soon as you glanced back at him, he was on you, pulling your underwear to the side.

"Oh my god," you gasped. His hands were a bit rough on your hips as he started to push himself inside you, and he took you just like that. After a few hard thrusts, you were whining for more, legs shaking with need.

Bradley was babbling as he fucked you, his chest pressed to your back, one big hand stroking down the front of your body to your clit. "You're so fucking tight. Holy shit." He kissed along your shoulder. "You smell so good. I love you, Gorgeous." It sounded like he was lost in you, his voice just behind your ear as he pressed two fingers to your clit until you were panting and coming apart.

Even when you were both spent, he pulled you to your feet while he was still buried deep, and you were slightly dizzy from your receding orgasm. His lips were soft on your neck, and he held you to his chest with his big hands on your body. "If you want a North Island field trip for your class, I'll get right on making it happen first thing tomorrow morning."

You melted against him and whispered, "We're not talking about tomorrow yet. Not when I get to spend the whole night with you first. Let's go make dinner." His stomach growled in response, and you kissed him and said, "I love you."

-------------------------------

This is every kid's dream field trip! I'm actually a little jealous! Bradley better be able to make this happen for his pen pals. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 15

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katsu28 · 3 months ago

Text

summer's golden haze - chapter two

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: backyard barbecues, the local market, and an unexpected discovery that has you wondering what exactly you may have just gotten yourself into. (5k)

warnings: angst (this early on, i know i'm sorry but it's for the plot i promise <3), lando and max f bickering like an old married couple

a/n: she's here!!!! sorry it took a little longer than expected but i hope you all enjoy this chapter :) pls feel free to come chat in my asks if you want to, i'd love to hear what everyone think about it so far!

previous chapter | masterlist

“Are these guys rich or something?”

Camille voices exactly the thought running through your mind as you roll to a stop to the address Lando had texted you yesterday, gawking out at the sprawling acreage in front of you.

You peer at the impressive villa through the windshield, taking in everything with baited breath. She’s absolutely right.

This house has to be two, if not three times the size of the one you’re all staying at, and that’s just what you can see so far. Vines bursting with colorful flowers crawl up white stone walls, curling around trellises of even more foliage, shutters on huge windows. There’s even a massive fountain in the middle of the courtyard, pristine marble, spewing crystal clear water in streams.

It’s a classic old money countryside villa—worth millions, you assume, not even taking in the gathering of vintage and expensive sports cars parked along the cobblestone driveway. You suddenly feel so, so small compared to the extravagance of just the exterior of the place.

Who are these people?

A guy with brown curls similar to Lando’s pulls open the door when you ring the bell, in the middle of yelling something at someone further inside the house, before turning his gaze on you all. His face lights up in recognition at the sight of you. “Oh, hey, you’re the girl Lando won’t shut up about! I’m Max, but I’m sure he’s told you all about me, hasn’t he?”

So this is Max. Lando’s told you a little about him, but mainly just funny stories. You wonder if Max knows his best friend is going around telling girls he’s just met about the time Max walked into a glass sliding door.

“A little bit, not much. It’s nice to put a face to the name though!” You say politely.

Max sighs dramatically, shaking his head in faux disappointment. He and Lando must be close. “I’m the best part of his life, and he doesn’t think to share it! What a knob. Anyways, welcome, come on in, make yourselves at home!”

He ushers you all inside, leading you through the house and out huge double French doors leading to the backyard. The rest of their group sits on couches gathered around a stone fire pit, drinks in hand, chatting amongst themselves until they see you all coming. Max does the introductions between your two groups, but there’s one person missing. The one person you were looking forward to seeing again is nowhere to be found.

Max must notice how your eyes search for Lando, because he grins knowingly. “He’ll be out in a bit. Work called.”

“Oh, what does he do?” Samira chimes in. You fight the urge to throw a stone at her, because you know what she’s doing. She’s getting information on Lando because you haven’t got the guts to do it yourself yet.

“Has he not told you yet?” Max raises a brow, taking a sip of his drink. When you shake your head, he presses his lips together, like he’s debating whether or not to tell you himself. “Yeah, sorry, I think I’m gonna stay out of this one. He gets pissy when I meddle with his budding relationships.”

Budding relationship. Your face flames hot at the insinuation, but Samira takes it in stride, raising a skeptical brow.

“What, is he in the mafia or something?”

“‘Course not, that’s ridiculous. Pretty boy like him, he’d never make it in the mafia,” Max snorts. “No, he’s…look, it’s not really my place to say. I’m sure he’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

Lando materializes from inside at that very moment, brows furrowed. There’s a tic going off in his jaw and he looks a little pissed off about something, but as soon as he looks up and sees that there’s company, he composes himself in a split second.

“Hey, guys!” He chirps, hand raising in a wave. He makes his way over to where you all are, plopping down in the empty spot beside you without hesitation. “Glad you could make it.”

“Thanks for the invite,” Maren replies, ever the polite one. “And the coffee yesterday.”

Max makes an offended noise from the back of his throat at his friend. “You bought them coffee yesterday? Where was mine? You never buy me coffee.”

“Mate, you don’t even drink coffee!”

“Maybe I would if you bought it for me!”

The two boys continue to bicker with each other in the same way all evening, which leads you to believe this is just how they are with one another. It gives Lando another dimension in your mind, and you like it.

There are a handful of common interests amongst your friends and Lando’s, ones that spark conversation immediately. As the night goes on, it feels like you’ve all been friends for a while, and you’re glad. Part of you was worried things would be awkward between everyone, but thankfully that isn’t the case.

It passes the time quicker than you expect. Soon enough it’s nearing midnight and you’re close to nodding off onto Lando’s shoulder, fighting to stay awake and looped into the ongoing conversation despite the sleep threatening to overtake you.

It certainly doesn’t help that he exudes warmth from where you’ve wound up pressed against each other on the small couch. You turn your head to look at him, to take in the little details of him. The angle of his jaw, the slope of his nose. The smattering of moles across his face and neck.

One wayward curl hangs over his forehead, and you want to reach out, brush it away. You don’t think you’re quite at that stage of comfort with each other yet, but then he tears his attention away from the rest of the group and meets your gaze with what you can only describe as pure fondness dripping from his lazy grin.

“You alright?” He says softly, shifting his body to face you a little more.

You nod, because you’re more than alright. For the first time in a while, everything feels just the way it should be. “Are you?”

“Hm?” Lando replies noncommittally, sipping his drink. “Fine, why?”

“Earlier, after your phone call, you seemed…upset. I don’t mean to pry, I just wanted to see if everything was alright.”

“Oh, that? Nah, that was nothing, just my boss. Wanted to talk work stuff, but I wasn’t feeling it, y’know?” He shrugs. It feels like there’s more to what he’s saying, but you don’t want to push too hard. You’re still familiarizing yourself with him. “You’re sweet to check on me, though.”

“Okay. But if you, um, if you need to talk or anything, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

Lando traces a finger briefly over the thin strap of your dress, just over your shoulder, before dropping his chin into his palm. You already know he’s about to change the subject. Involuntarily, you shiver at his touch, and he definitely notices, because he suddenly looks a little smug.

“Pretty dress,” He hums, tilting his head.

You weren't trying to make a good impression on Lando, but you weren't exactly not trying, if that makes sense. It doesn't really make sense to you, but you’d gone for cute but comfy with a dress you’d borrowed, hoping it says you’d made an effort, but not too much of one.

Suddenly you can’t remember what you were just thinking about not being at a certain stage of comfort with one another. Is it weird that you're secretly pleased he liked it enough to mention it?

“It’s not mine,” You say softly. Lando lets out a noise of question. “I borrowed it from Maren.”

“Ah. Well, you should definitely get one for yourself then. It’s a nice color on you.”

You want to say thank you, or really just say anything at all, but the moment your gaze flicks back up to his, you’re lost in his eyes again. Everything around you blurs into the background until it feels like it’s just the two of you. You’re teetering on the edge of something, and fuck, it would be so easy to just go over. To let yourself fall and fall and fall into his waiting arms at the bottom.

Suddenly you hear your own voice in your head.

Don’t get attached.

Clearing your throat, you pull back from Lando as smooth as you can manage with him muddling up your brain like this. “It’s late. We should get going,” You say, a tad louder than necessary.

“She’s right,” Camille chimes in, taking note of the slight urgency in your tone. “We’ve got a guided hike in the morning—sunrise, can you believe it?”

Lando’s mouth dips into a tiny frown for a moment, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared. He nods understandingly. “Sure. I’ll walk you out.”

You all say your goodbyes and thank you’s, to which the boys wholeheartedly agree you should all do this again sometime before you part ways.

Lando trails behind a bit like he’s unsure, but catches up to you quickly on the way out, shoulder bumping against yours lightly as you fall into step with each other. His hand brushes yours and lingers a little, pinkies almost intertwining.

“Tonight was nice,” He says casually.

“Yeah, it was,” You agree, bobbing your head.

“Would you—I dunno, maybe want to hang out again?”

“With you guys? ‘Course we would, I’m sure the girls would love to.” You smile, casting a glance at your friends. They’ve all coincidentally already gotten into the car, but if you squint hard enough you can see them gawking at Lando and yourself through the windshield.

How very not subtle of them.

Lando rocks on the balls of his feet almost nervously, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “No, I meant, like…just the two of us.”

“You mean, like, alone?”

“A date. I’m trying to ask you out on a date,” He blurts, nose scrunching. “And failing miserably apparently.”

“Oh!” You feel your face burn hot, yet you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face even if you tried. You’re about to take him up on the offer, but before you can say a word, another voice pops into the conversation.

“Yes! She says yes! Whatever you’re asking, her answer is yes!” Samira yells through the window enthusiastically, muffled through the glass but still very audible.

Neither you nor Lando can stop the laughs that escape your mouths, especially when you turn around and all three girls are shooting you excited thumbs ups.

“Guess that’s settled then,” You giggle, turning back to face him.

“It’s a date.” He pushes forward, catching you by surprise when he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. As cliche as it sounds, the touch of his lips against your skin, although fleeting, sends a flurry of butterflies through your stomach. “I’ll text you later to plan, yeah? Get home safe.”

He waits for you to pull around the circular driveway, and as his waving form gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, a glimmer of hope worms its way through you.

In the back of your mind, you know you should keep it in check. This could be totally casual. A short summer fling that won’t hurt anyone no matter how it ends. But maybe, just maybe, it could turn into something more.

-------

Your schedules don't end up giving you a free afternoon together until a few days later, though you come to realize it only makes you look forward to seeing Lando again even more.

You're supposed to be meeting him at the local market in the center of town at half past one, but you find yourself there early, wanting to get a lay of the land before he gets there.

Evidently Lando had the same idea, because you spot him within the first few steps into the open air marketplace, squatting next to a stand with crates and buckets of bright flowers. He’s already got a bouquet clutched in his hands, but still he browses through the different bunches.

“Flowers for Max?” You joke.

Lando shoots to his feet so fast he nearly hits his head on the lightbulb hanging above, only managing to miss it by mere inches as he startles at the sudden voice. When he realizes it’s just you, he snorts with laughter. “He wishes! They’re for you, actually.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” He says teasingly. You don’t even know what to say. Flowers on the first date might be normal, yet nobody’s ever done it for you before. You’re touched, but he must take your silence as something else, because his smile drops the tiniest bit. “Unless you see something you like better? I can still put these back.”

You study the flowers he’s picked out already. A little on the smaller side, it boasts a beautiful mix of both soft and brighter colors while still being simple—it’s exactly the sort of thing you would’ve chosen if you were buying flowers for yourself. “They’re perfect.”

He pays for the flowers and passes them over to you with the biggest smile on his face, one that grows even bigger when you tuck them carefully into the crook of your arm after giving the delicate blossoms a sniff.

You notice the camera hanging around his neck at that moment, despite knowing close to nothing about golf, you do know a thing or two about photography. “Golfer and photographer? Impressive.”

“Amateur at best.”

“Oh, I’m sure you're just being modest.”

“Not even a little bit. I just enjoy taking pictures of things I like.”

He swings around to face you fully, bringing the camera up to his eye and pausing only a second to make sure you're in focus before snapping a photo of you. The shutter clicks twice before you have the sense to hold up a hand out in front of you, a surprised laugh spilling from your mouth. Even then he grins, takes another one before lowering the camera. "What, you don't like having your photo taken?"

“I’m just not very photogenic!”

Lando scoffs immediately, shooting you a pointed look. “That is such a lie.”

“I probably just broke your fancy expensive camera,” You joke.

“We’ll just have to wait til I get it developed and see. I think it’ll turn out wonderful.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“I’ll buy you dinner. If I’m right, then…you let me buy you dinner.”

You let out a noise of surprise. “Well, that doesn’t seem very fair, does it? You’d have to buy me dinner either way.”

“I can think of worse things than taking a pretty girl out for a nice meal.” His words take you by surprise, but judging by the smug grin on his face, Lando takes pride in eliciting a reaction from you. “Shall we?” And just like that, he’s sauntering off down the path like he didn’t just leave you at a loss for words, pep in his step even as he turns around to shoot you a roguish smile. “You coming or what?”

You push aside the fluttering in your chest, giving your head an amused shake before catching up with him. It’s cute that he thinks he’s funny. Even cuter that he seems rather eager to take you out on a second date before the first one has even started.

The two of you wander through the market aimlessly, stopping here and there at various stalls to have a look around. If you had the means, you’d buy everything you see. You wind up picking up some gorgeous looking fruit and a bottle of locally pressed wine, a few small souvenirs for your family back home, but the most important thing you buy isn’t even for you.

Lando had lingered at a stall selling handmade jewelry early on, seemingly interested in a woven bracelet of blues and whites, but didn't pick it up. Part of you wonders why, but it sparks an idea in your head.

You tug at Lando’s arm lightly, smiling guiltily when he turns to look at you. “I think I left my phone at that fruit stand a few stalls back.”

“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your body, you muppet,” He chides, shaking his head fondly. “C’mon, let’s find it.”

“No, I can get it. Why don’t you find us something good for lunch? I’m starving.”

“Are you sure?” Lando cocks his head, shoulder bumping against yours. “I don’t mind.”

“I’ll be right back,” You promise. To sweeten the deal, you make the bold move of pressing a kiss to his cheek. He freezes under your touch, but you pass it off as him not expecting it and being taken by surprise. “Two minutes, okay? Maybe less.”

As soon as you confirm he isn’t paying any attention to you, you slip back through the crowd, finding the same stall and buying the bracelet he’d been looking at. You tuck it safely into your pocket, quickly making your way back to Lando before he realizes you’ve been gone long and comes looking for you.

“All good?” He asks upon noticing you reappear by his side.

You wiggle your phone in the air. “Never better. What's for lunch?”

Lando grins happily, reciting the spiel that the very friendly older man at the food stand gave to him when he’d decided on the delicious looking food. Sure, maybe he stumbles over his pronunciation a little bit, but you find his giggled embarrassment sweet.

You find a semi-secluded bench a little jaunt away to enjoy your food, and you do enjoy it. You think it might be one of the best things you’ve ever had, and when you tell Lando, he looks pleasantly surprised. As you continue to savor every bite, Lando’s eyes light up with amusement, so much so that you wonder what’s suddenly got him all smiling big like this.

“What?” You say incredulously.

He gestures to the lower part of his face. “You’ve got a little…”

Mortified, you mirror his actions on your own face, searching for the food you’ve somehow gotten smudged on your chin. After a few tries that have him shaking his head, you whine, “Help me, please?”, to which he obliges with a soft chuckle. He reaches out, thumb rubbing at the corner of your mouth briefly.

This moment almost seems too intimate, but then again, so have a lot of moments between the two of you. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’ve still got something on your face, but then his gaze flicks down to your lips again almost imperceptibly, and you have an inkling of what’s about to happen.

“Did you get it?” You ask softly. You’re not sure why you break the silence, but it's definitely not because you don’t want him to kiss you. If you think about it, you’ve wanted Lando to kiss you this whole time.

“Yeah. Yeah, I got it," He replies. His hand lingers, long fingers splaying flat under the curve of your jaw now. You surprise yourself by shifting forward slightly, as if encouraging Lando to close the gap. He leans in closer and closer still, and your eyes fall shut on their own accord, heartbeat hammering against your rib cage.

You nearly melt the moment his lips touch yours, held up only by the firm grasp of his hand cupping your face. It’s a little awkward with the food in between the two of you blocking you from pushing closer to him, but you make it work, reaching over it to wrap your fingers around Lando’s forearm. You feel like you need it to ground yourself, because holy shit, you’re kissing him.

Well, more like he’s kissing you, because you’re definitely not the one leading the way. Lando kisses like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and judging by how you feel weak in the knees when you’re not even standing, he does know exactly what he’s doing.

You’re falling, falling, falling, getting lost in him, until—

“Wait, hang on,” He breathes, pulling away. Your eyes flutter open in an almost dazed sort of way, focusing on him in hopes of finding him in the same state, but all you’re met with is…guilt? Sadness? Shame? Maybe a mixture of everything, you’re not sure. All you know is that it has your heart plummeting in your chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Everything hits you at once, and suddenly you’re crashing back down to reality. Lando thinks kissing you was a mistake. You were so sure he liked you back, sure enough to go on a date with him, and now here you are with egg on your face, feeling unbelievably stupid. Hurt.

“I’m gonna—I have to go,” You mumble, scrambling to your feet. You don’t even have an excuse prepared, you just need to get out of here, get away from Lando before you spontaneously combust from the sheer embarrassment.

His hand encircles your wrist before you can make it even a step away.

“No, no, don’t! Please, just let me…let me explain. I promise things will all make sense in a second, if you’ll just hear me out,” He says pleadingly. Despite your better judgment, you sit back down, expression guarded. Lando blows out a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly. “Look, I like you. I really like you, and I wish things were as simple as that, but there’s things I’ve not told you. Things that, if you knew, you might not want to be with me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can, burying your burning face into your hands with a muffled groan. “Oh my god, you are in the mafia, aren’t you?”

“The—what?” Lando blurts, sounding wildly confused. “No, I’m not, I’m not in the mafia. Are you mad? I’m a Formula 1 driver!”

You crack one eye open, then the other. “Formula 1.” You repeat, disbelieving. “Like, the racing thing?”

He nods enthusiastically, tells you everything—how his childhood dream turned into a career, how he gets to travel all around the world doing what he loves. The fame, the lifestyle, the opportunities he’s worked so hard for, all while sounding entirely humble and grateful for everything and everyone who’ve gotten him to where he is today.

It’s impressive, to say the least. The fact that he’s still fairly young and has already accomplished more than what some people have in a whole lifetime. Then he gets to how the chaos that doing what he does at the level he does it at wreaks havoc on other parts of his life, and you feel a wave of sympathy roll over you.

The tradeoff for all that success is not getting to have a normal life in almost every aspect, and given the downward set of his brow as he tells you about it, this isn’t the first time he’s had this conversation with someone.

“It makes being in a relationship…difficult, is the best way I can describe it. I’m never in one place more than a week most times, and the whole time zones thing makes it harder too. And after these two weeks are up, I’m already off to somewhere else, jumping right back into the second half of the season and hitting the ground running.”

Realization hits you like a truck at this point, and you have to fight the urge to laugh out loud. Of course Lando is who he is. Of course you had to form a connection with someone with a life as complicated and as far away from your own as possible, someone who couldn’t be in a normal relationship even if he wanted to.

“I wish it were different, but I just—I wanted you to know what you might be getting into if we…” He trails off, but you know what he means. If we want to get involved with each other. If we want to be together.

“So like, long distance, but infinitely harder.” You’re doing your best to put a light spin on the massive amount of new information you’ve just acquired, but you’re barely managing to process it all, let alone even think about what it would be like to date someone as well known as Lando.

“Yeah, something like that,” He says softly, shoulders creeping up towards his ears. “It’s—well, it’s a lot of baggage for anyone to have to deal with. Lots of eyes and ears, pretty public. Not really your cup of tea, I’ve noticed.”

He’s right. You’ve never been one to enjoy being the center of attention, preferring to fly under the radar. Blend into the background. And you hate to say it, but knowing all of what he’s just told you changes things. You don’t think you can handle being thrust into the public eye, and it makes you feel like the most selfish person in the world to walk away from him just because of who he happens to be.

Your life would be forever altered, your sense of privacy and security gone, and that isn’t something you want to compromise. You’re comfortable being nobody significant. With Lando, that would change, no matter how many measures you take to make sure it doesn’t.

As much as you’ve come to like him—and you really like him—it’s just not something you can see yourself being fully okay with.

“I’m so sorry, Lando,” You say quietly. He just smiles sadly, like he already knew it was coming, and you can't help but think about how many relationships—platonic or romantic—that he's lost out on because of his status. The thought alone makes you feel even worse. “I like you too, but I can’t—I don’t think I can be what you want me to be. It’s not me, it’s not the way I can live my life.”

“Don’t be sorry. You haven’t got a reason to be,” He murmurs, thumb rubbing across your knuckles comfortingly. “Knew it was too good to be true, didn’t I?”

“I’m sorry,” You say again, hoping that Lando knows you truly mean it. “I wish it were different, but—”

Lando shakes his head, interrupting before you can grasp for any other ways to apologize. He squeezes your hand reassuringly again. “Hey. It’s alright, I promise. I’d never ask anyone to do something they aren’t comfortable with. Especially not you.”

Even when he’s sad, he’s still so thoughtful. It would take a different kind of awful monster not to want to be with him. Apparently that monster is you.

You wish you were someone else, someone who could take huge changes in stride and never miss a step, but you’re not. Someone who knows what they want and goes for it—who knows who they want and doesn’t let anything get in their way.

Unfortunately, you’re not that kind of person.

“What do we do now?”

Lando drops your hand to run his fingers through his curls, down to the back of his neck sheepishly. “Dunno about you, but I’ve—d’you think there’s any chance we can still be friends? I really do enjoy spending time with you lot, we all do.”

“Friends would be nice,” You say softly. It feels strange to agree with him so wholeheartedly.

Maybe it’ll be awkward between the two of you, maybe you won’t even be able to sit next to each other with what’s happened today, but you can’t bring yourself to care all that much. The only thought running through your mind is that you don’t want to lose Lando, even as just a friend.

You’ve gotten attached.

The bracelet you’d bought Lando burns a hole through your pocket. It would be weird to give it to him now, after you’d just turned him down, but you can’t exactly just return it either. You don’t really want to.

Maybe it won’t go to him, but you’re sure you’ll find something to do with it someday.

The girls are waiting in the living room when you finally make your way home, gathered on the sofa with identical innocent smiles like you hadn’t seen them with their heads poked through the curtains. Samira bounces off the cushions with what you can only describe as a gleeful cackle to grab your flowers, showing them off to the other two like a game show host before grabbing your hand and dragging you into the center of their blanket pile.

You know they're expecting good news and you wish you could give it to them, but you can’t.

“So??? How’d it go?”

“He got her flowers, obviously it went well!”

“Okay, spill, now,” Camille presses, easing the bouquet out of Samira’s hands and setting it on the coffee table. “What’s he like, what’d you do—”

“When’s your second date?” chimes in Maren excitedly. The other two nod their vigorous agreement.

“Lando’s amazing,” You sigh, letting yourself fall back against the plush pillows. “He’s super sweet and really funny, we walked around and looked at all the vendors, and then we had lunch and talked for ages, and…there won’t be a second date.”

“What? That’s impossible, you guys were like, made for each other!”

You sigh, rub at a flower petal that’s fallen away from the bouquet. “It’s complicated. I don’t—I’m not ready to get into all of it again this soon, but long story short, our lives are just too different. Being with him would mean compromising things I’m just not ready to lose right now.”

If any of them wants to push for a better explanation, and you know they do, they refrain from doing so. They know you’ll tell them when you’re ready.

But even Samira can tell you’re not quite as okay as you insist you are, and she’s been rooting for you extra hard. She leans her head onto your shoulder, squeezes your hand reassuringly. “You did what was best for you, and that’s all that matters.”

“We agreed to still be friends, so we can still hang out with the guys and stuff like that, but—I mean, yeah, it just didn’t work out.” You don’t think you sound very convincing at all, but it’s the bed you've made, you’ve got to lay in it. “I just don’t really want to talk about it right now, but it's fine. I'm fine.”

It has to be. You have to be. You’ve made sure of it.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new chapter :)

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #ln4 x reader #lando norris x fem!reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris series #f1 fic

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cece693 · 3 months ago

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Calm Down Cowboy (Jasper Whitlock x M! Reader)

I never expected much love to come from my first Jasper fanfic, so as thanks, here's another one :)

Summary: You were a social butterfly, however, that doesn't excuse your husband's actions. However, was it really all bad if it led to him being possessive and taking charge.

tags: jealous Jasper, social butterfly male reader, petty cowboy, happy ending, smut, past mention of Tanya/reader

It was almost funny, looking back on it now, but in that moment, you were steaming like a kettle ready to burst. After all these centuries spent by Jasper’s side—dozens of weddings, countless anniversaries, and endless reassurances—how could he still get jealous just from you talking to someone? You were well aware of your own charm; a social butterfly whose charisma, suaveness, and good looks drew people to you like moths to a flame. But Jasper knew this too. He knew you never encouraged those who fawned over you, nor did you let any past lovers hold sway over you anymore.

Yet, Tanya Denali seemed to light a fire under your cowboy like no other. It didn’t matter how many times you’d promise it while fucking him that Tanya was nothing—just a brief fling in your long, immortal life, severed the moment he'd come into it—he still couldn't stand the sight of her.

It started innocently enough. The Denalis were visiting Forks, and you'd found yourself chatting with Tanya. The conversation was light, inconsequential—a quick catch-up on each other's lives. But then Tanya, ever the flirt, edged closer, her hand brushing against your arm, her laugh a little too soft, too familiar.

Jasper, who had been watching from a distance, stiffened immediately. You could feel his emotions boiling over, his usual calm demeanor cracking as Tanya leaned in, her fingers trailing down your sleeve. You glanced over your shoulder, trying to catch his eye and silently communicate that it was nothing, but Jasper was no longer standing in his spot.

Instead, he was striding toward you, his eyes dark and full of a possessiveness that made your stomach twist. "That’s enough." he said sharply, stepping between you and Tanya. His tone was harsher than you’d ever heard from him, a growl that had everyone around you suddenly going silent.

Tanya raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smile. “Oh, come on, Jasper. I’m just catching up with an old friend. No harm in that, is there?”

Jasper’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. "Funny how you always seem to forget what ‘no harm’ means. You don’t belong here, stirring up old shit.”

You quickly put a hand on his arm, but Tanya wasn’t done. “Oh, Jasper, I had no idea you were so insecure,” she cooed, her eyes flicking to you with a knowing glint. “I thought you’d trust your mate by now, especially after all these years. But I suppose some habits die hard.”

Jasper’s muscles tensed under your grip, his temper flaring hotter than before. “How would you know? You haven’t found your mate yet," he snapped back, his Southern accent thickening with every word. "Why don't you take your desperate ass back to Alaska and leave what's mine alone?"

“Jasper!” you hissed, pulling him back before things could spiral out of control. This was so unlike him—he was usually composed, especially around others. But Tanya had a way of needling under his skin, and she knew exactly how to make it worse. You tugged at his arm, dragging him away from the porch and out of earshot of the others, who had started murmuring in shocked whispers. Emmett’s booming laughter grated on your nerves, adding to the tension.

But Tanya wasn't finished. She threw a final parting shot over her shoulder, her voice laced with venom. “You know, maybe Jasper’s right to be worried. It must be exhausting, trying to keep up with someone like you. All that fire and passion—maybe he’s just not enough for you anymore.”

Jasper jerked against your hold, his eyes flaring with fury, and it took everything you had to keep him from lunging at her. "You listen here, you conniving bitch—" he started, but you cut him off, practically dragging him away from the scene before he could finish his sentence.

“Jasper, stop!” you pleaded, your voice tight as you struggled to keep him from breaking free. His anger was like a living thing, wild and uncontrollable, and you knew that if you didn’t get him away from Tanya, things would get ugly fast. “She’s just trying to rile you up! Don’t give her what she wants!”

He stopped struggling, but his whole body was tense, vibrating with barely suppressed rage. “I’m not letting her get away with that,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “She thinks she can just waltz in here and—”

“And she’s not worth it,” you interrupted, stepping in front of him and forcing him to meet your gaze. “You know she’s just trying to get under your skin. Don’t let her win.”

Jasper’s breath was coming in ragged gasps, his eyes still blazing with anger, but slowly, he began to calm under your steady gaze. “I can’t stand her,” he muttered, his voice still laced with venom. “She thinks she can just say whatever she wants, like she knows us.”

“She doesn’t know anything,” you assured him, your hands sliding up to cup his face, forcing him to focus on you and not the lingering venom in Tanya’s words. “And I don’t care what she says. You’re the only one I want, Jasper.”

For a moment, it seemed like your words would be enough to soothe him. But the tension was still there, simmering beneath the surface. His eyes darkened, his hands gripping your waist possessively. "Show me." he demanded, voice raw, an edge of desperation beneath his anger.

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift, but you saw the need in his eyes—the need to prove himself, to reclaim what was his. You nodded, giving him permission to take the lead, knowing this was a big step for both of you. Jasper didn’t waste a second. He backed you up against a nearby tree, his mouth crashing onto yours with an almost feral hunger. His hands roamed over your body, rough and urgent, as if he was staking his claim with every touch.

He was never like this, never so commanding, but you let him take what he needed. His lips moved down your neck, his sharp teeth grazing your skin before a burning fire settled on your collarbone. His venom would create a scar there, a mark that you were his and vice versa. "Mine." .

"Yours." you assured, threading your fingers through his honey-blonde hair. "Only yours."

He didn’t slow down. If anything, your words only spurred him on. The heat between you two built quickly, his need palpable. He pulled away, his eyes locking onto yours, searching, almost as if he was begging for you to understand. "I need to know." he whispered. "Need to feel it."

You nodded, letting out a soft sigh. “Then take it. Take what you need.”

And he did. His movements were intense, almost punishing, as if he was trying to erase any doubt Tanya had planted with each thrust. You met him with equal fervor, matching his intensity, your bodies colliding in a raw, unrestrained dance that left you both breathless. His hands were everywhere, gripping, claiming, reminding you of exactly who you belonged to.

As the tension between you two reached its peak, Jasper buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the bite. “I love you.” he murmured, his voice shaking with emotion. “Don’t ever doubt that. I’d burn the whole world down before I’d let anyone take you from me.”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close. “I love you, too, Jasper. And I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

For a moment, everything was still. Then, slowly, Jasper's grip on you loosened, his anger ebbing away as he relaxed into your embrace. You both stayed there, holding each other tightly, knowing that nothing could break you guys apart.

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buckyalpine · 1 year ago

Text

TW: drugging, sa, Bucky x protective reader

I’m in a whumpy angsty mood where I want everyone, I mean EVERYONE to be protective and caring over Bucky, taking care of him and making sure he’s okay.

TW: Sexual assault (not reader), drugging

Bucky takes a sip of his drink and immediately knows something isn’t right. He doesn’t get drunk, he can’t. So why did his entire body suddenly feel lax and his vision hazy. He blinks a few times, trying to focus but it only makes everything worse, his skin feeling warm.

“Doll?” He tries to get up and look for you, only to stumble as he gets out of the chair. The rest of what happens in a blur when a pair of soft hands help steady him.

“Has anyone seen Bucky?” You come around to the lounge area in search of your favorite super soldier, surprised when he wasn’t sitting with the rest of the team either.

“Thought he was with you” Steve looked confused while Sam smirked; everyone knew the way Bucky trailed behind you like a lost puppy, so it was strange that you of all people, didn’t know where he was...

“Last I saw him was....he’s gone” Nat frowned, seeing the bar stool not only empty but also knocked over.

“Where could he be” You scanned the room once more, feeling uneasy when you still couldn't find him. “Let me go check his room” You decided to make your way up to the elevator while Nat followed just to be safe, the both of you surprised to see the door slightly ajar.

“No”

The muffled sound coming from his room made your heart race faster, his strained voice barely audible.

“Please, no”

You saw red, striding over to his room, bursting through the door, gasping when you saw a woman straddled on top of him, her hands working at the buttons of his shirt. Her eyes grew wide, yelping when you ripped her off him, throwing her to the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You spat, punching her across the jaw, your knuckles connecting with her teeth causing your skin to split while she cried out.

“Well-well he wanted me too!” The woman spat causing another surge of anger to flow through you, lunging for her again.

You were ready to tear her to shreds but a soft whimper pulled you out of your rage. You turned to see Bucky’s tear streaked face, waiting for you to hold him. Nat nodded for you to go to him, grabbing he woman by the hair, covering her mouth from screaming too much, not wanting to stress Bucky more.

“Don’t make a sound” Nat hissed in her ear, pinching a nerve to keep her still while calling for he rest of the team to come up.

“Doll” Bucky clung onto you like a small child, still struggling to understand what was going on, all he knew was that he was safe again when you protecting him.

“Bucky, I’m here baby, it’s okay, I got you” you cooed, holding him tightly, covering him with the sheets, your heart breaking over his vulnerable state. He shook his head in confusion, while you stroked soft circles on his back to calm him.

“Is he okay?” Nat tightened her grip around the woman while you blinked back tears, soothing Bucky.

“What the hells going on” Tony frowned, approaching the room with Steve and Sam in tow after seeing Nat’s text message.

“She drugged him. Tried to have her way with him” Nat snarled while Steve’s jaw clenched at the sight of he woman who nearly rolled her eyes while his best friend was in distress. He held back from doing something he'd regret, mumbling something to Nat before coming over to Bucky. Bucky stayed hidden in your comfort, whining whenever you shifted, terrified you’d leave him, needing you more than ever.

“Stay with me?” He pleaded softly, still feeling so out of control, his head spinning, the touch of the other woman still burning his skin. “Don’t want her, want you”

“I know baby, it’s me, don’t worry, not going anywhere” you whispered, kissing his forehead as he relaxed slightly, closing his eyes. “Stay awake for me though Bucky, alright? I need you to stay up”

“But m’so tired” Bucky slurred, his eyes growing heavy once again, your hand gently patting his cheek to keep him from sleeping.

“I know baby” You continued to rock him while he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“You’re gonna kick her ass for all of us, right?” Sam whispered to Nat, the redhead silently nodding, already planning on ripping the woman apart as she dragged her away.

“Buck, you alright?” Steve spoke softly, his eyes filling with tears at the small nod Bucky mustered. Sam joined his side, gently squeezing Bucky’s shoulder.

“We’re here for you, okay? Just stay awake for us Buck”

Bucky let out a muffled hum, his body still running hotter than usual, making it harder for him to stay awake.

“Sam, get him some water please” You whispered while he nodded, running off to grab some, coming back seconds later. You brought the glass to his lips, helping him drink before setting it aside. “Baby, can I take this off? I’ll help you feel better” Bucky let you take off the rest of his shirt, everyone leaving the room so you could help him with the rest of his clothes, covering him back up in your arms once he was just in his briefs.

Tony brought over his suit to run a quick rest over the drugs that were now in his system using a needle to get a sample of blood to scan.

“Its okay, it’ll be quick terminator, I promise” Tony whispered, doing his best to only take a tiny amount not stressing him more, so he could get an immediate reading on what Bucky had been given, breathing a sigh of relief when it wasn’t anything that would cause major harm or damage. “Standard narcotics. Just a fuck ton though. It’ll be out of his system without an issue but stay with him”

You nodded, carefully monitoring Bucky until he was less groggy and disoriented, the both of you still wrapped up in the sheets. He blinked at the sight of your slightly bloodied hand, kissing your palm before pressing it against his cheek.

“Are you okay baby” you whispered against his hair while he continued to nuzzle into you, not wanting to leave your warmth.

“You protected me” He whispered, burying himself further into your hold, finally being able to fall asleep now that enough time had passed. “My angel”

“I’ll always protect you my love” you whispered, holding him tighter as he closed his eyes, “Always”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

Text

Sum of All 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The two weeks since you gave notice fly by. You’re almost buzzing with excitement. Once the day is through, you’re free. Well, free to finish packing and spend your last night in your apartment before your new chapter.

The change couldn’t come at a better time. It’s best you get out of the city after your brush with danger. Back on the straight and narrow. For once, things are going according to plan.

You’re barely focused on work. You have everything wrapped up and ready for the next poor soul. Brenner’s not bothered. He just sits at his desk, watching those videos that reflect in his framed certification. You try your best not to look.

All you can think of is packing up at the rest of the day and never looking back. This new job is everything you ever wanted. And the interview was great. They seemed great and the culture was more than a slimy boss and elderly secretary knitting by the door.

As if on cue, Geraldine squawks a greeting as the door open. You flinch and look over as she preens, “why hello, sir. Back again?”

You don’t get too many walk-ins. You turn and your eyes bulge as Rogers lets the door close behind him. He wears a dark blue suit with a matching tie. His hair looks even longer than before, his beard thicker. It’s been barely a month but it feels like longer.

You turn to your desk and click around your screen. Remember what he said. As far as you’re concerned, he’s a stranger.

So why is he walking towards your desk. Brenner clears his throat and stands, his mouse bouncing off his keyboard as he scrambles. You swallow dryly and keep your head down.

“Mr. Rogers, sir, what can we do for you this time?”

“Got another job.” Rogers intones.

“Sure, uh, we’re a bit short-handed but--”

“Her,” Rogers stops beside your desk and taps the corner. “Come on.”

You flinch and look up at him in dread. You frown. You’re confused. He told you to forget and you did your best to do just that.

“Right, er,” you sniff and twine your fingers together to keep from fidgeting. “Happily, er, sir, but the thing is, it’s my last day. Tomorrow--”

“I’m not asking. Come on.”

“Oh, uh,” you hesitate. He sounds angry. You know what happens when he’s mad. The thought makes you light-headed. “Well, I’m moving out-of-town so--”

“Get up,” he demands as he shifts towards you, reaching over your shoulder to grip the back of your chair. “Important work to do.”

“Go on,” Brenner says, “help out Mr. Rogers.”

Rogers’ icy blue eyes flick up to the other man and narrow. A warning. I don’t need your help. He pushes away from you and the chair rocks dangerously. Back to square one. Back to an angry dog bristling for a fight.

“Sure, sure,” you show your palms then slowly pivot.

You gather up your briefcase and check that all the drawers are empty. You wonder if maybe you’re taking so long but you really don’t want to come back here after whatever trouble this man has in store. You get up with your bag in hand.

Rogers turns without a word and strides across the office. You follow. You catch up to him outside as he holds the door for you. As you try to keep pace with him, you muster all your courage.

“I hope this is a short job, I have aa moving truck--”

“I’m not negotiating.”

“Alright,” you accept with a squeak.

It’s all too familiar. There’s no explanation. Just blunt orders and tense silences. He opens the passenger door of his black car and you get in. He goes around the driver’s side and turns the engine.

“Whatever job you took, won’t pay as much as this one so let’s stop with that,” he says.

You blink. This can’t be happening. You had it all figured out. You’re done with criminals and Mr. Brenner and all of this. You frown. You feel his gaze in the mirror. He sighs.

“We gotta go outta town. I need someone who can do numbers.”

“Outta town?” You murmur.

“Sounds like you’re already packed and ready to go, so we’ll drop by to grab some stuff and head off. No time to waste--”

“What? I... but...” you stammer.

You snap your mouth shut as you sense his roiling irritation. Oh, oh no. You know what this is. Too good to be true which means it’s all falling down around you. ‘Out of town?’ You know what that means.

Your head bobbles as your breath burns in your chest. You grab at the door handle and whine, “please, don’t. Please, let me out. I didn’t tell anyone, I didn’t--”

“Hey, stop that,” he grabs your shoulder and pulls you back against the seat, steering with his other hand. “You’re going to get hurt--”

“You’re going to hurt me?” You squeal and your eyes roll back into a fog.

You feel the lurch of the car before you plunge fully into the darkness. It’s like blinking. You wake up against the seat. He’s still driving. You don’t recognise your surroundings.

“No!” You erupt back into consciousness. “No! Why are you doing this? I promised! I didn’t talk to anyone, sir! I didn’t. I’m leaving town and--”

“Calm down,” he grits over the wheel.

“No! No! If you’re going to kill me, then I’m not going down easy,” you insist, “I’m going to--”

The world turns gray again and you hit the door with a thunk. You sink again into your vacant mind. A shift in motion wakes you again. There’s music playing.

“Am I dead yet?” You ask groggily.

He scoffs, “what’s gotten into you? I told ya, we got a job.”

“We? Job?” You sputter. “You know, I know what ‘out of town’ is. I watched The Godfather. Boring but they were streaming it...”

“Huh? Godfather? No, no, look, I don’t kill people I can use,” he says plainly.

“Oh... that’s not reassuring,” you utter.

He lets out another long breath. Yours starts to pick up again. You brace the door.

“Damnit, don’t you pass out again,” he demands. “I know you kept your promise. That’s why I chose you. This is an important job. Diplomatic. I can’t risk someone who might flip and I know you’re not going to do any of that. Because I know you don’t want to do any of this.”

You consider his words. You clutch your head, “fair.”

“Are you good? I got some water,” he points to the bottle in the plastic holder by the console.

“I... I won’t...” you inhale deeply. “I just—you said we were done.”

“Shit happens,” he shrugs.

“And I’m just along for the ride,” you mumble.

He snorts and shakes his head, “guess so.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #drabble #au #mob au #sum of all #captain america #avengers #mcu #marvel

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dippindaz · 13 days ago

Note

Eddie Munson x reader: they support him as he goes on his first tour & she gets jealous of his girl fans

Thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy ❤️ ends with some good old fluff of course.

The van rumbled beneath you as Corroded Coffin’s tour vehicle winds down another lonely stretch of highway. The guys are in the back, swapping riffs and yelling over who gets to control the cassette deck next. Eddie’s laughter rings out, carefree and warm, but you’re sitting shotgun, staring out the window, your thoughts a million miles away.

The tour was supposed to be everything Eddie dreamed of—his big break, the culmination of years spent pouring his soul into music. And you were thrilled for him, genuinely. You’d quit your job and packed your bags to be by his side, to make sure he didn’t lose himself in the chaos of the road.

But no one warned you about the screaming girls.

They swarm at every stop, clutching at Eddie like he’s the second coming of Ozzy. He takes it all in stride, charming smiles and playful winks, basking in the attention without a second thought. You know he loves you, but every autograph he signs, every picture he poses for with an arm slung around some adoring fan, feels like a pinprick to your chest.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie’s voice startles you. He’s climbed into the passenger seat, leaning back with his arms crossed, his usual easy grin replaced with a look of concern. “You’ve been quiet today.”

“I’m fine,” you say too quickly, your gaze fixed on the horizon.

He tilts his head, studying you. “Liar.”

Eddie’s dark eyes linger on you, searching for cracks in your armor. “C’mon princess. Don’t do that thing where you bottle it up until it explodes. Talk to me.”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, wrapping your arms around yourself. “It’s nothing, Eddie. Really. Just tired from the drive.”

“Right,” he says, drawing out the word skeptically. His fingers drum idly on the dashboard, but his expression remains serious. “Well, when you’re ready to tell me what’s really going on, I’m here.”

You force a small smile, but it feels brittle. “Thanks.”

Eddie watches you for another moment, then sighs and stands. “Alright, Miss ‘I’m Fine.’ But you owe me one later.” He plants a kiss on the crown of your head before retreating to the back of the van, his energy magnetic as always, drawing the guys back into their chaotic jam session.

You let out a slow breath, the tension in your chest refusing to fade. The rest of the drive passes in a blur of laughter and off-key singing from the band, but you barely hear it, too busy wrestling with the ache that’s been gnawing at you since the tour began.

—————————————————————————

The venue is loud, packed with fans pressed shoulder to shoulder, a sea of heads bobbing to the beat of Corroded Coffin’s set. Eddie is electric on stage, commanding the crowd with every growl of his guitar and every howl into the mic. His hair flies as he moves, sweat glistening under the stage lights.

You’re proud of him. God, you’re so proud of him. But standing on the sidelines, you feel like an outsider in his world.

When the band wraps their set, the crowd explodes into cheers, and the guys bask in the adoration as they head backstage. You linger behind, watching as a cluster of girls presses against the barricade, calling Eddie’s name. He’s stopped to sign a few things, that grin of his plastered across his face. One of the girls leans in close, shouting something you can’t make out that makes him laugh.

Your stomach twists. You know it’s nothing—Eddie has never given you a reason to doubt him—but the insecurity and unease claws at you.

“Hey, you coming?” Gareth calls from the side door, snapping you out of your trance.

“Yeah,” you mumble, forcing your legs to move.

————————————-————————————

The backstage room is a frenzy of noise—gear being packed up, beers being cracked open, and the guys reliving their favorite moments from the show. Eddie is the center of it all, animated as he recounts some joke a fan told him.

You sit on the edge of a couch, picking at your fingers, trying to blend into the background. Eddie notices eventually, his grin faltering as his gaze locks onto you. He excuses himself from the group, weaving through the chaos until he’s standing in front of you.

“Hey,” he says softly, crouching to meet your eye level. “You’ve been off all day. What’s going on?”

You shake your head, forcing a smile. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” he says without hesitation, his brows furrowing. “You’re not fine. You barely said a word during the drive, you didn’t even watch most of the set, and now you’re sitting here like a ghost. Talk to me.”

Your chest tightens. “Eddie, I said I’m fine. Can we just drop it?”

“No, we can’t just drop it!” His voice is sharper than he intended, but he took a deep breath to steady himself and glanced around the area. “Look, I know something’s bothering you, and I can’t fix it if you won’t let me in.”

The frustration and exhaustion bubble up, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“Fine! You want to know what’s bothering me? It’s those girls, Eds. The ones who throw themselves at you after every show. The ones who look at you like you’re the only person in the world.”

Eddie blinks, taken aback. “Wait, what? You’re jealous?”

You cross your arms, feeling both exposed and defensive. “I’m not jealous. I just… I don’t like the way they act around you, okay? And I don’t like how easy it is for you to smile at them like it’s nothing.”

His expression softens as he stands and takes a step closer. “Angel, you know they don’t mean anything to me.”

“I know that,” you snap, your voice wavering. “But it’s hard to feel like I matter when there’s a line of girls getting your attention, and your winks, and laughs.”

Eddie stares at you, guilt flickering across his face. He opens his mouth to respond but hesitates, as if searching for the right words. “I… I’m sorry… I didn’t realize…”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, your anger fading into a dull ache. “I feel like I’m just here, watching you live your dream while I fade into the background.”

Eddie shifted, sinking down onto the couch beside you, his shoulders slumping. “You’re not in the background,” he says, his voice low and steady. “You’re the reason I’m here. You believed in me when no one else did. Hell, you believed in me when I didn’t.”

You glance at him, tears burning your eyes. “Then why does it feel like I’m competing for your attention?”

He exhales slowly, reaching out to take your hand. “I’m an idiot. I’ve been so caught up in all this—the shows, the fans—that I didn’t stop to think about how it might feel for you. But you’re not competing, okay? You’re the only thing I want in this world and I’d give it all up for you. Nothing even comes close to you.”

You look down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, Eddie… but I don’t want to hold you back either.”

“You won’t,” he says firmly, leaning closer. “You couldn’t lose me if you tried. I’m yours, sweetheart. Always. And you’re not holding me back.”

The tension between you eased and Eddie tugged you into his arms, holding you tightly. His embrace is warm and familiar, grounding you in a way nothing else could.

“I’ll do better,” he murmurs against your hair. “I’ll make sure you know how much you mean to me. Starting now.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah? How are you gonna do that?”

He smirks, the mischievous glint in his eye returning. “How about a private serenade? Just you, me, and my guitar?”

You laugh softly, the sound easing the last of the tension in your chest. “That sounds like a good start.”

Eddie grins and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Good. Now let’s get out of here. I think we’ve had enough of this circus for one night.”

With his arm wrapped around you, Eddie leads you out of the noisy backstage area, his presence steady and reassuring. For the first time in days, the knot in your chest began to unwind.

Because as long as you have Eddie, the rest doesn’t matter.

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things eddie munson #stranger things Eddie Munson x reader #stranger things Eddie Munson x you #stranger things Eddie x reader #stranger things Eddie x you

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volatilebrat4103 · 26 days ago

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Broken cycles and fixed bonds (Part 1)

Leaning against the railing of the airship, shirt billowing in the breeze, it was calming and peaceful. “I’m nervous” Jinx chuckled, shrinking into herself. “There’s no need to be trinket” Y/N sends a reassuring smile to the blue haired woman. “I know it’s been a couple of years but I’m positive your sister will be happy to see you” she lifts a hand to caress Jinx’s cold cheek. “You really think so toots?” Jinx leans into Y/N’s touch, savouring the feeling of her warmth. “You’ve come a long way from where you were” Y/N continues, pulling Jinx into her waiting arms, placing a kiss to her head as Jinx nuzzles her face into her lover’s chest.

“I hope you’re right” Jinx’s words muffled in Y/N’s chest, savouring her warmth provided in the freezing wind. No words are needed after, Y/N simply comforting her girlfriend as they head to Piltover.

A lot had changed since then, since Jinx had fled the city to start over. For one she healed, gone were the voices and hallucinations, the pain and suffering, all of it left behind. Jinx had grown into the woman she had meant to be albeit a gruesome journey but one she took in stride.

A lot had changed for the better, shockingly enough one of those changes were her fashion style. Gone were the mangled scraps of clothing she wore, now she adorned a more formal style, her hair now long enough to tie back into a neat ponytail. It was a change she hated at first but knew it was a step forward in her healing journey, as sad as it was to see her signature look go.

As the airship soared through the skies nearing the city she hadn’t seen in three years, her nerves began to bubble over, tightly clinging to Y/N’s shirt to ground herself. Noticing the slight change in her breathing Y/N pulls Jinx further into her embrace, allowing her larger body to completely encompass the nervous woman.

After some time Y/N pulls slightly away from Jinx, her hand guiding her chin up so their gazes meet, “Everything is going to be alright, I’m right here trinket” Y/N’s voice soothing her ever so slightly, with that she leans down to capture her blue haired beauty’s lips in a soft, tender kiss, pouring her emotions into it. Jinx can’t help but melt at the feeling, she knew Y/N was right, but she just can’t shake the feeling of uncertainty. What is Vi didn’t want to see her? What if she was better off without her?

Pulling away from the kiss the couple lean their foreheads together as they melt in each other’s touch. “I can feel you overthinking” Y/N chuckles before placing a kiss to Jinx’s forehead. “Relax love, we’re here” with that the airship begins it’s decent to the docks of Piltover, the sight of the sprawling metropolis sent a pang of nostalgia through her.

Once the ship docked Jinx seemed to freeze, her nerves getting the better of her. “Hey, you okay?” Y/N’s voice just as gentle as her hands that softly trail up and down Jinx’s arms. The blue haired girl could do nothing but nod, eyes glossing over as Y/N pulls her in. “I’ve got you, you can do this” her words relax the rigid and scared woman.

Letting Jinx relax and gather her thoughts for a minute before taking her hands in her own, “Ready?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. “Ready as I’ll ever be” Jinx whispers with a small smile. Grabbing their bags the two women step off the ship hand in hand and manoeuvrer into the bustling streets of Piltover.

As the pair walk through the busy streets Y/N can’t help but feel a pang in her heart, she had yet to tell Jinx of her history with the city. A now energetic Jinx quickly let go of Y/N’s hand and makes her way over to an enforcer nearby, she was out of earshot leaving a confused Y/N in her wake however she took the time to reminisce about her past and family, wondering if they would still remember her.

“Come on Toots, this way!” Jinx’s excitement broke Y/N out of her trance as she is hastily dragged through the street, her brows furrowing as she recognised the familiar path, noticing it was leading her straight to the Kiramman mansion, however she says nothing, allowing her girlfriend to pull her along.

Y/N’s heart drops as they approach the front door, perhaps her family no longer resided her, left the city to live a better life. “we’re here!” although excited Jinx’s nervousness is easily heard as she wipes her sweaty palms against her pants before knocking.

Not even a minute later a pink haired woman with a tattoo under her eyes answers the door, her muscular body clad in an enforcer uniform. “Ye-“ her words caught in her throat with a hitch, eyes growing wide in shock. “Hiya sis” Jinx waves cutely whilst rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. “J-Jinx? Is t-that really you?” the woman’s voice wavers as tears well in her eyes.

“It’s me sis” Jinx whispers becoming extremely conscious of her surroundings, her heart racing in anticipation. Slowly the woman’s hand reached out, carefully cupping Jinx’s cheek as if to confirm that she was really standing in front of her, “Are you real?” tears slip from her eyes, Jinx leans into the touch to assure her, “It’s me Vi, I’m here” with that the woman now know as Vi pulls Jinx in for a tight hug, the sisters sobbing into each other. “I thought I lost you” Vi’s voice trembling as her arms tighten around her sister.

Y/N realising that it’s a private and delicate moment not meant for prying eyes manages to manoeuvre the sisters through the door whilst still tightly wrapped in each other’s arms. She shuts the door and stands to the side, happy her girlfriend can finally have her happy ending.

Once the two pull away from each other, tears still streaming down their cheeks, Jinx grabs Y/N’s hand, dragging her closer. “Vi this is Y/N, my girlfriend and Y/N my sister, Vi” Jinx excitedly introduces the two, bouncing up and down like a toddler spiked on sugar. The woman looks strangely familiar to Vi however she can’t place from where.

Vi steps forward trying to size up the woman who is clearly taller than her and almost double her size in muscle. “Hello, it’s finally nice to put a face to the name” Y/N stretches out her hand with a kind smile, a hint of a British accent coming through. Vi nods as she continues to examine the woman, the accent, her features, the way she carried herself, she looked so familiar that it intrigued Vi.

Taking the offered hand in her own, “wish I could say the same” Vi’s words hold no venom as she accepts the handshake, curiosity blazing within. She can’t sake the feeling she has seen Y/N before. “We have so much to catch up on” Jinx luckily saves the awkward stares shared between Vi and Y/N. “That we do” Vi turns to her sister with a smile, gesturing the two to follow her. The three make their way to a small living room, green chairs surrounding a fireplace, a small table between the two.

Vi had left and returned with a tray of tea for settling herself on the table in front of her sister leaving Y/N to take residence in the other chair as the two began to catch up. Y/N doesn’t follow their conversation, rather she sits idly by and admires her girlfriend over the brim of her cup, Jinx turning t meet her gaze every few minutes, something Vi did not miss.

Just as they were deep in conversation Y/N’s sharp ears hear the front door open and close, footsteps leading into the house. “I’m home my love” a familiar voice shouts through the house causing Y/N to freeze, her breathing picking up ever so slightly.

Recognising the voice Jinx smirks at her sister, the two conversing without saying a word as Jinx nudged her whilst wiggling her brows suggestively causing Vi to flush a crimson colour. “I’m making tea, would you like some?” the same voice shouts leaving Y/N’s mind reeling. “I’m good love” Vi responds whilst Jinx continues to tease her. Footsteps are heard leading closer to them and entering the room, however Y/N is unable to see said intruder, sitting in the chair with the back facing the door.

“Oh I didn’t realise we had guests, my apolog- Jinx?” The familiar voice stops mid-sentence as the sisters stand up together. “Hiya cupcake” Jinx greets with a teasing wave earning a nudge to the ribs from Vi.

Whilst the being to converse Y/N silently hyperventilates, the voice, that oh so familiar voice paired with the house that was that was also familiar to her. “And who else do we have here?” the voice is soft, almost as soft as how Y/N remembers. Slowly Y/N stands up and turns around facing the one person she thought she wouldn’t ever see again.

There she stood, Caitlyn Kiramman, she still looks the same as when Y/N had last seen her albeit older now. Caitlyn drops her tea cup in utter shock alerting everyone who worriedly looked at her, “Y-Y/N?” her voice shaking with uncertainty. Y/N just stood there much calmer on the outside,

“Been a minute, sister”

Part 2

#jinx arcane #arcane #vi arcane #vi x caitlyn #vi and jinx #jinx #jinx x reader #jinx x y/n #arcane caitlyn #arcane caitvi #caitvi #league of legends #league of lesbians #league of legends arcane #lesbian

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kadwrites · 1 year ago

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my mother's daughter | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; you and your mother get into a heated argument

warnings ; arranged marriage!trope , angst , mommy issues?, fluff, soft!tommy , your mother is kinda annoying , ada is a girls girl idk

a/n ; i don't know what to think of this part ??

your nostrils flared as you stride through the venue's corridors to the room your family had booked to get ready in.

madeline and fiona walk behind you, too nervous to say anything. tommy stayed behind, too many important people were there , he couldn't just disappear yet.

you open the door and there she is, celest and her daughters around her, you lift your dress and crouch

"what did she do?" you drop the dress and hold her face in your hands , looking at her. her eyes red and her lips quivering

"it's okay..."

"no it's fucking not."

"why are you here? you should be with the guests!"

your face twitches and your sister grips your hands whispering "no no no."

your nieces hold their breath as they stare at eachother. the room is tense , the air feels scarce

you turn around, your chest is heaving with angry, shallow breaths "what the fuck is wrong with ya mum?"

she closes the door behind her, fearing someone will hear. someone was hearing all of this, madeline and fiona were behind the door.

"what are you on about , young lady?" she speaks sternly

"and ya 'ave the fucking nerve to act angry?" you walk closer, moments from the day she told you about the marriage flashing in your head "look at what ya did to 'er!"

"she wanted to wear my necklace!" she raised her voice

"who cares? it's just a necklace!" you raise your voice too

"i do! it was meant for you, not her" she points at your sister "she got her own engagement party and her own wedding when she married that twat."

"i don't fucking want it mum, i don't want the fucking necklace." your teeth grind against eachother "i don't want anything from ya."

"how dare you...." she points her finger at you now

"no mum, no ya don't get to play this fucking card anymore" your voice cracks "why couldn't ya just let us be fucking happy for once mum? why did ya 'ave to do this?" your eyes fill with tears "right when i started being happy again? when i accepted everything? you do this"

"you're acting like i ruined your party!"

"ya made my sister cry!" you point at celest "she's been the one that's comforting me, taking care of me when ya were too busy playing the role of the self righteous mother." you take a step back , pointing at celest "she will wear whatever the fuck she wants,"

your mother puts a hand on her chest "how could you speak to me like that?"

"how could ya be so selfish mum?"

"selfish?" she chuckles bitterly "you wouldn't be here without me..." she points at the door behind her "this place? you wouldn't have even dreamt of seeing without me, that dress? you wouldn't have even touched without me, nothing here would be even a reality with me."

your jaw clenches and you just stare at her, in disbelief.

you just walk out, your feet leading you to god knows where,

your mother glares at celest before turning but stopping in her tracks, seeing tommy at the door.

"girls, would ya please take your mother out? maybe take 'er to the ladies room yeah? let 'er wash 'er face." he stares at your mother while he speaks, and your nieces scurry out with their own mother

"excuse me." your mother tries to leave but he blocks her way again

"get back in here."

she turns, staring back at him

"ya will listen to me , and ya will listen carefully." he speaks in a monotone voice "ya will go to your daughter, and ya will apologize and ya will fucking behave for the rest of the night."

"what?" her brows are furrowed, she's offended

"and if ya even think of pulling a stunt like that on our wedding day, i will drag ya out of it kicking and screaming if i 'ave to." he doesn't falter or even respond to what she said

"this is a family matter, it doesn't concern you."

"she is my family," he gets closer to her "ya do not want to test me , elizabeth. ya know what im capable of."

"what are you going to do thomas? kill me?" she asks with a bitter hiss

"ya arranged this whole thing so i can protect your daughter did ya not? , that's what im fucking doing" he doesn't even dignify her protests "ya will act like a happy mother, ya will not embarrass me or my fiancée , ya will not cause a fucking scene in my engagement, do ya hear?"

she doesn't speak, just looking at him

"i said do ya fucking hear me, elizabeth?"

"yes."

"good."

you somehow found your way outside, to the garden, you sat on the marble steps. wiping off your tears as they continued to flow.

you see someone sit beside you in your peripheral vision, and you both don't talk for a minute.

"ya shouldn't cry tonight , it might bring bad luck, might curse your marriage." the person next to you spoke and you turn to see her

you recognize the features , you recognize the attitude.

"yeah well, it might as well be cursed." you look back at the beautiful rose garden, thinking maybe the sight of something beautiful will soothe the pain

"what's making ya cry then?" ada lights a cigarette, offering you one. you wave your hand, not wanting one.

"my mother" you say with a sigh, tears blurring the sight before you

"what 'appened ?"

"we had a fight about a stupid necklace" you look down, you see your tears landing on floor "i love 'er , but it's so hard for me to like 'er. it's so hard to just be around 'er"

"does she do this often ? making ya cry?"

"i guess the same way all mothers do" you speak softly, as you look at her

"why are ya letting 'er do that to ya?" she says with a raised brow "tommy says ya got fire in ya"

"well it's 'er fire that lit mine" you chuckle "it feels like i'm so much like 'er and yet we are nothing alike"

"ya 'ave two choices" she exhales the cloud of smoke as she motions with her cigarette "ya either let 'er win, let 'er make ya cry one more time or ya go and enjoy your fucking engagement party that ya spent days planning"

before you get to answer you hear a set of footsteps that are heading towards you, and when you look over your shoulder it's none other than your husband-to-be , standing there , his eyes drifting between you and his sister

you stand, looking at him, and you can't help the tear that runs down your face again

ada looks at the both of you, almost amused at how soft her brother seems, and he looks at her "would ya fucking mind?"

she puts her hands up, surrendering before walking off , still smiling in amusement

"ya can't cry today"

"bad luck aye?"

"that" he nods "and ya'll ruin your fucking makeup."

you chuckle, wiping off your tears "i'm sorry...".

he's never seen you like this, and nothing could've prepared him for how tight his chest would feel when he looked at you and saw those eyes of yours red and wet, your cheeks almost stained with tears and your voice filled with misery

"for what?" he asks softly , his body moves on its own, his thumb wipes away the tears

"for leaving alone with the guests" you sniffle a little bit, "for crying too"

"nothing for ya to apologize for."

you take a deep breath and fix any stray hairs, you smooth down your dress "we should go back" 

"look at me." he puts his hands on your shoulders and speaks with a small smile "say 'i will not let my mummy make me cry tonight' "

you raise a brow "no"

"say it now come on"

"i will not let my mummy make me cry tonight" you give him a tight lipped smile "happy?"

"very." he let's you loop your arms with his as you go back to the party.

the rest of the evening went smoothly , the guests were happy, and you were too. tommy kept your mother away from you. and you didn't even notice. celest laughed and drank with you and your friends, your dad and your brothers were having the time of their lives.

"i want to propose a toast, to the two lovely groom and bride to be. i wish you all the happiness" a guest, you recognized as a business partner of tommy's

you smiled and your champagne flute went up, and so did tommy's. and then your mother got up, holding her own flute , and your smile faltered.

tommy grasped your hand under the table , and you just glanced at him before looking back at your mother

"i want to propose a toast as well," your mother smiled, looking at you. "to my lovely daughter and tommy, i wish you both a happy long life and a bright future, cheers!"

you smiled and sipped your drink, and tommy never took his eyes off your mother

"i think i might just lose my mind and go fight 'er again." you whisper into tommy's ear, your hand on his shoulder, the other hand in his, he holds your waist as you two dance "or stab 'er with a spoon... i don't know."

he chuckled and you glared at him again "i'm glad ya find my misery amusing."

"it's less your misery and more your angry face" he murmured

you scoff and you look away, trying very hard to not smile

"ya look beautiful" his voice wasn't playful, and his eyes were soft on you.

suddenly you were hyperaware of his touch on your waist, his hand gripping yours.

you look at him again,"thank you" your smile gives you away "ya look good too, ya always do"

"i do?" he raised a brow and an amused smirk replaced his smile

"ya don't 'ave a mirror in your mansion?"

taglist ; @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr , @justaproudslytherpuff , @budugu, @twlegit , @amberpanda99 , @aesthetic0cherryblossom , @capswife , @lets-turn-and-burn , @affabletimelady , @edencherries , @globetrotter28 , @eg-dr3amer3 , @sadroses98 , @fairytale07 , @hakudaru , @swordofawriter, @esposadomd , @blogforficslol

#kadwrites #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine

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rosiesmuts · 1 year ago

Text

Clandestine

BLACKPINK Lisa

Words: 2,200

Tags: 🍑

A/N: Late quickie.

It could only be described as paradise. The gentle rays beaming down, crystal clear blue water surrounding all around. A vast system of valleys and caves with not another person in sight. Yet the only thing your mind could process is the barely covered Thai idol–her skin glistening with beads of ocean droplets lighting up her already pale skin.

"Are you sure about this Lisa?"

"Just shut up and take the picture. I've been living under a microscope for the past 7 years."

She raises her arms above her head and poses for the perfect Instagram shot–the teeny bikini barely covering up her tight little ass.

"Let me see. Let me see." Lisa excitedly scurries over after hearing the shutter of the camera click. While she giggles and taps her fingers against her phone, you're left gawking at her ocean soaked body. Even with paradise all around, there's only one thing on your mind. Everything about Lisa was long and slender, every inch of her body from her fingers all the way down to her toes. Two tiny pieces of neon green fabric left almost nothing to the imagination; a thinly veiled excuse of a bikini. It's truly a magnificent sight, how could anyone be so toned yet soft and smooth.

"... And it's posted!" Lisa screams out energetically. Seven years of living under constant scrutiny, her contract is at an impasse while both sides remain under negotiations. Lisa was always a wild child, but now she feels the extra freedom with the weight of the company off her shoulders.

Lisa smirks, catching you staring like a deer caught in headlights. No point in denying it now, your slack jawed expression says it all.

"I'd tell you to take a picture, but you already did." Lisa teases as she catches you in the act. She walked towards you, a mischievous smile on her face, taking slow methodical strides with her long legs until she's nearly pressed against you. "Do you like what you see?" she whispers into your ears. Clearly a rhetorical question, one that she gives you no time to respond to. Hands and lips are all over you, lips nibbling at your collarbone while hands frisk at your chest. Lower and lower she goes, leaving a trail of kisses and light bites as she takes place on her knees.

She's in prime position, but she's one to play naughty little games. Over the protection of your shorts, Lisa gently grazes your shaft with delicate light touches. But that's not all, her full lips kiss the tip of your clothed cock–your desperation for her touch grows with each passing moment. Her cute face didn't match her lecherous actions, but this is only the beginning of what's to come. Her hands travel up to your waistband, her fingers sliding under the elastic. Painstakingly lowering your shorts until your friend springs into position.

"There's my favorite little toy." Lisa sing talks as she takes a hold of your cock.

"Excuse me? Little?"

"There's my favorite big toy," Lisa giggles at your bruised ego. "Now lay back and let me have some fun."

You do as instructed, laying flat on your back. Lisa straddles your right leg, leaning in to give your cock gentle kisses and licks, her soft tongue playing with your precum. She looks at you with her big gorgeous eyes, "Are you ready for some real fun Oppa?"

Her lips part and she sucks hard on your head. You moan out loud, your hips bucking upwards to meet her oral assault. Her mouth is warm and wet, it feels as though she's bathing your member in a pool of her own saliva.

"Mmmmm, I can feel you getting bigger and harder." She moves lower now, using her gentle fingertips to caress your balls. "I don't know if I'll be able to fit you in my mouth, but I'm going to try."

Her hair is getting in her face, so you hold it back. Your cock hits her throat, but she gets lower and lower each time. She gags a bit, but still manages to keep sucking away. Soon enough she's deepthroating you, her pink tongue swirling around your head as she looks up at you with a grin.

"You taste good."

Up and down she goes, taking the full length of your cock into her throat every time. The elicit noises of her gagging are the most erotic sound in the world. Lisa's stroking your thighs as she bobs her head, keeping constant eye contact. She pulls away and takes a deep breath before diving back in–holding herself down, her nose pressed against your pelvis until she turns red, tears running down her round cheeks.

She pulls herself off, coughing and gasping for air–a long trail of saliva still connected from your cock to her chin.

"I thought you said it was little." You tease as she struggles to catch her breath.

"Nope, it's big" She pouts. "But you're such a dirty boy, making me gag like that."

"I didn't make you do anything. You gagged yourself, you filthy little whore."

"Excuse me, I'm your filthy little whore." She giggles. "And I want more. Are you ready to stick that big cock into something tighter than my mouth?"

She bends over on her hands and knees, shaking her delectable cute ass in your face. As much as you love to slowly peel off her bottoms, there's no time to waste, pulling the knots on one side of her bikini and throwing the flimsy cloth into the sand.

You stick two fingers into her mouth, she sucks and licks, coating them with her saliva. Using your well lubricated digits, your tease around the ring of her ass. With great care you work your fingers inside, watching in awe as your fingers disappear into her tight hole. You continue on, twisting and twirling, spreading her out for what's to come.

"Just fuck me already" Lisa begs, always the impatient one when it comes to her ass.

"Your wish is my command, my Thai princess."

You grab ahold of her hips, moving her forward and then pushing her back. Your cock still slick with saliva, pressing your tip against her tight hole. Just your head penetrates when she lets out a scream of pain and pleasure.

"Keep going," she whimpers, her body relaxing to take more of you in.

You go slow, inch by inch, watching her as she squirms, trying not to move too fast. Her body relaxes with each pass, feeling her opening spread wider. Soon enough you're fully inside, your cock buried within her. Every inch of her is squeezing you tight. You've fucked her ass dozens of times by now, but each time gets better and better.

Your hips start moving, Lisa's moans blend perfectly with the sounds of the ocean.

"Harder, faster!" She begs.

You oblige, holding on to her hips as each slam of your hips gets faster. Every one sends shivers through her body, forcing a stuttering gasp to escape her lips. With a tug of the string to her top, it floats down into the sand–moving your hand upwards to grope her tiny tits, pinching her sensitive nipples in your hand as you pound away at her ass.

"Ohhh~" Lisa squeals, desperately trying to grasp at the sand.

"Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes, yes!" She cries out. "More!"

With that you pick up speed, thrusting with everything you have. Your stamina has grown immensely since you started fucking each member of BLACKPINK. Her body tenses up, her ass clenching even harder against your shaft.

"Just like that. Just like that." Lisa pleads. "Give it to me. Fuck me Oppa!"

"As you please"

Your pace continues, slamming into her tight little ass. Her body writhes under you, her moans turn into shrieks threatening your ear drums even in the open air. Her tenseness immediately loosens up as she screams out, her orgasm ripping through her body.

"AHHH~"

Her back arches, her ass spasms around your cock. Her beautiful face is locked in a grimace of pure ecstasy. Lisa shakes uncontrollably, her mouth wide open and her eyes squeezed shut as she convulses. You keep pounding away inside, holding onto her hips tightly, your thrusts slowing down to prolong her bliss.

"I... I..." Lisa pants, "...I haven't came that hard since that last time you fucked me."

You chuckle, kissing her on the cheek.

"I'm glad I could help, you were amazing."

"I forgot how good you feel..." Lisa leans back into your embrace. "...But what about you, Oppa? You still haven't cum." She feels your rock hard cock still pressed against her cute little ass.

She pushes you on your back, her long body looking intimidating from below as she towers over you.

"You know it felt amazing when Chaeyoung gifted you my pussy for your birthday..." She giggles.

It was hard to believe, Lisa allowing you fuck anything but her ass on her own volition, but there was no time to harp about it. She straddles your waist, reaching down to grab a hold of your cock, lining up your tip to her wet, post orgasmic folds.

You grip her hips, guiding her in. Her tight little snatch opens up for you, allowing you to easily slide inside. Lisa squeezes her pussy around the base of your cock, massaging it with her insides. She's earned the title of main dancer, doing body rolls with you buried deep inside her.

"How's it feel to have my pussy wrapped around your cock again Oppa?"

"Amazing."

"Well get ready for a ride." Her hands plant on your chest, bracing herself upright. Her feet steady themselves in the sand, then she's off to the races, bouncing herself up and down, your entire length gliding against her silky walls.

"Mmm...so fucking full..."she whispers to herself, snapping her head back. Your hands sneak up when she closes her eyes, your thumbs circling her sensitive nipples. The sudden jolt of excitement only redoubles her efforts, the sound of clapping flesh carries in the wind. A subdued moan escapes her lips and her movements become erratic. Her fingers interlock with yours, her eyes fluttering and her leg start to quiver. With a renewed, intensity, your upwards thrusts match with her downward slams and she screams out in ecstasy once again.

"Such a greedy little one, cumming again when you were supposed to be helping me."

Rather than answer your playful little tease, she leans in and shoves her tongue in your mouth, moaning into it while she rides out her orgasm. Her lips pull away and she lets out a sly smile, still leant over, her small little breasts just inches from your face. Once again, she shows off her renown dancing skills, twerking just her hips up and down. Showing off her multiple talents, her hips never stop moving even while she reaches behind and tickles your balls.

Followed up are little whispers into your ear; "They feel so full Oppa. I want you to cum for me. Cum anywhere you want. On my tiny little tits or my toned abs. Maybe on my face, hell you can even cum inside of me if you want..."

Her words are just the motivation you need.

"You're gonna make me - " You cry out, trying to hold back.

Instead of slowing down, she speeds up her twerking. Her chest rubbing against yours as she leans in and nibbles on your ears. "Just let go. Cum inside me Oppa."

Her erotic words hypnotize you into submission. You thrust upwards into her, driving yourself deeper with each forceful stroke. Her velvety walls squeezing you hard, and you finally release inside of her with a hefty groan. She keeps twerking her hips, trying to milk you for all your worth.

"That's it" She coos. "You're a dirty boy, filling me up with your cum."

She leans back and smiles, spreading her legs apart, making a display of the spunk oozing out of her and onto the sand.

"I'm a mess Oppa, but I like it." Lisa giggles.

You sit up, taking her dainty hand into yours and helping her up to her feet. She goes ahead of you, leaving her bikini behind and proudly makes her way back naked to the beach house.

She turns around and screams back at you, "GET READY FOR ROUND TWO OPPA!"

You let out a sigh, laughing to yourself, watching Lisa skip away without a care in the world. You lay back in the sand before following her back, taking the stairs up to the second floor. As soon as you enter the door, you see the four girls sitting on the couch.

"Hi!" They cheerfully greet you...

#blackpink lisa smut #lisa smut #blackpink smut

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myhappylittlesideblog · 11 months ago

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See You When You Get Back

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Shane's a big jerk in this

Summary: Checking in with those going on a supply run creates some drama within the crew. (Season 1 ish)

A/N: My first Daryl piece! Needed some soft Daryl in my life lol. I haven't finished the show yet, currently in the middle of S.6 and it's been a long time since I watched season 1&2, so sorry for any inaccuracies.

Runs weren’t your thing. Not right now. Maybe in a few months you’d be able to stomach it- going out amidst walkers and even more twisted survivors to find food. And toothpaste. God, you needed toothpaste. But even with the protectors of the group on your side, watching your back, you knew you wouldn’t make it back to camp. Not right now. Maybe someday.

Everybody was clear on that. The “not right now.” So those going out on the supply run would check in with you, ask if you needed anything special and then leave you be to do their laundry or clean the little dishware you had all collected.

They collected. The ones who could collect things- those going on the runs. You just cleaned. For now.

“Hey.” It sounded more like a grunt than a word.

Daryl pulled you from your thoughts. Like a hand dipping into the waves to yank you up into the clear air to breathe.

“Need anythin'?” He asked once you looked at him.

You smiled. A lips pressed together - thanks for thinking of me - smile.

“The usual. Diamonds, meth, whatever you can find.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes.

“And toothpaste if you can find it. But I let Andrea know that.”

He gave a curt nod. “Kay.”

“See you when you get back,” you said to him.

A laughing hiss came from behind you. “Damn, girl, tell 'im how you really feel.”

Shane stood behind you. Snarky. Smirking. Shaking his head.

Though Rick was the one who found you on his way out of the hospital, it was Shane who let you join the group. At least, that’s how he saw it. You were grateful to him, he protected you, provided for you like he did the others. When you had no place to stay and no tent of your own, he let you share his. It was a generous gesture that was starting to come back to bite you each time Shane acted like he had a say in everything you did. Even more than the others in the group, that is.

“What?” you said.

His fingers dug into the belt loops in his jeans as he leaned to one hip. “Everybody else gets a pat on the shoulder or a hug. 'Be safe, keep safe,’” he said, imitating a whiny voice that wasn't quite yours. He shrugged. “Guess she couldn’t care less ‘bout you, Dixon.”

You heard the distinct click and jangle of Daryl putting his crossbow over his shoulder, ready to move out. Your jaw clenched at the thought of him leaving with Shane’s words in his head.

“Why would you even say somethin' like that?” You shot at Shane. “I would never-“

“Ya don’ haf’ta explain yerself,” Daryl mumbled to you.

“What was that?” Shane called.

“I said she doesn’ haf’ta explain herself to you,” Daryl said, taking a step toward you, but angling himself toward Shane. Ready.

“I think I know her better than you do, Dixon,” Shane said. “We share a goddamn tent-“

“You-“

“If you think,” you interrupted both of them, “that I’d say such a thing about any one of us, then you don’t know me at all. But Daryl’s right. I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

Shane’s eyes went narrow. He crossed the open space between you, the span of two tents, in just a few long strides. You felt Daryl stiffen at your side as Shane stuck his face near yours.

“You be careful who you align yourself with, (Y/N). If I were you-“

“Yer not.” Daryl said.

Shane didn’t take his eyes off you. “If I were you, I’d choose better than a redneck with a few arrows.”

Even with his harsh words, his gaze softened toward you. Then he turned away and made his way back to his tent.

Once he disappeared, you sighed, hoping the tension in your chest would dissipate with the air, but it didn’t.

“Dick,” Daryl mumbled.

A dry chuckle left you as you turned to him. His cheeks were pink with anger but his face was calm now.

“Daryl, when I said- I just meant that-“

“I know what ya mean when ya say it.” His arm snaked around your neck, pulling you into him. Fast, hard, and unexpected. “I’ll see ya when I get back.”

He spoke into your hair. You felt his lips and breath move against your skin. And then he let go, gone as fast as he appeared, and you watched him saunter toward the rest of the group going on the run, his crossbow fit to his back.

-------------------------------

A/N: A part two may come! I can't just leave you in a tent with Shane after all that, can I?

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fluff #twd #the walking dead #twd daryl dixon #daryl #daryl x reader #daryl twd #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl

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importantstudentbusinessspy-blog · 4 months ago

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Dragon Blood

Chapter 3: Your newfound fear of dragons causes you to run away from Dragonstone, but you're naive to think a certain prince with an odd fondness of you would let you go so easily.

Vermithor's claiming left you with endless nightmares. The monster's fury and the screams of the unfortunate dragonseeds haunted your nights and filled your days with dread. The castle, once a place of routine and stability, now felt a platter above hungry predators.

Desperation led you to the head of staff, where you made up a story about distant family in the Reach. "They've asked me to come live with them," you lied, your voice trembling but determined. "Please, I need to leave Dragonstone."

The head of staff was a stern woman with a soft spot for you. She eyed you suspiciously but eventually nodded. "Very well then. I'll arrange for your transfer to a local inn. You may leave as soon as you are ready."

The next day, you gathered all of your belongings and set out on the path leading away from Dragonstone. Each step was heavy with the weight of leaving behind the life you knew and stepping into the unknown.

Suddenly, the sky darkened as a massive shadow passed overhead. You looked up, heart-pounding, to see a dragon descending right onto you. Vermax landed with a powerful thud, sending dust and pebbles flying. You froze, your newfound phobia of dragons paralysing you.

Prince Jace dismounted, his armor gleaming in the sun, a picture of authority and grace.

He approached you with a measured stride, his expression unreadable. "It is high treason for a servant to lie about their supposed family in the Reach."

Fear seized you, and you took a step back. "My prince—"

He cut you off, his eyes blazing with anger. "Do you have any idea how foolish you are? A pretty girl, travelling alone, unarmed and unprotected? Do you have any inkling of what could happen to you on the road? The dangers you could face? What if some slaver found you? What then?"

His words struck you like a blow, and you felt your knees weaken. "I just..."

“You think you can just walk away?” Jacaerys said, his tone low and challenging. “After everything you’ve seen, everything you know? You think that freedom is yours to take?”

“I want none of it! I just want to be safe,” you replied, your voice trembling.

“You’re a Targaryen, y/n. There’s no running from that.”

The weight of his words pressed down on you. “I’m not! Im not... like you, not like the queen,” you whispered. “I’m just a servant. I have no wish to claim a dragon, not anymore—”

You felt your lower lip trembled, your fears cutting off your speech.

Jacaerys softened slightly, though his tone remained stern and dismissive. "You're lucky. It's not every commoner who gets offered an escort from a prince."

You looked up at him in surprise. The closeness of his presence made your breath catch in your throat. His eyes were intense, studying you with a mix of frustration and something else, something darker.

You hesitated, fear and doubt swirling within you. Jacaerys stepped even closer, his presence overwhelming. “Do as I say,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “You will learn how to command a dragon. Claim your birthright at least once.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you could see no way out. He was your prince, your sovereign, and you had to obey him. You nodded reluctantly.

He took you by the hand, leading you to Vermax. The dragon's eyes followed your every move, and you could feel its rumble shaking the ground beneath you.

Jacaerys stepped closer, his presence both intimidating and oddly reassuring. "Say 'Lykiri to command Vermax to obey."

"Lykiri," you repeated nervously, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Louder," Jacaerys insisted. "Dragons respond to strength."

You took a deep breath and tried again, louder, “Lykiri!"

Vermax's eyes flicked to you, and with a low rumble, the dragon shifted, acknowledging your command. Your eyes widened. The realization that the dragon had listened to you sent a rush of adrenaline through your veins.

Jacaerys stepped up on the dragons offered wing with practiced grace, then pulled you by the hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Vermax won't harm you," he assured, seating himself behind you on the saddle, his voice closer now, almost tender. "Feel the dragon's strength."

As you settle on the dragon's back, Jace's presence was solid behind you and reassuring. He guided your hands to grip the saddle, his own hands briefly covering yours.

“Say ‘soves’ to command him to fly.” He spoke in your ear. “Confidently. Command him.”

“Soves!” You spoke loudly.

“And hold on tight.” He instructed, placing his hands on the saddle In front of You.

Syrax took off, the ground falling away beneath you. The sensation of flight, the rush of wind, and the power of the dragon beneath you were overwhelming. Despite your fear, there was an exhilaration, a feeling of freedom you had never known. The world below became a blur, the wind whipping through your hair, your heart pounding with a mix of terror and joy.

The force of the takeoff pressed you back against him. Wind whipped past you. The world below became a blur, and the vast sky opened up around you.

You gasped for breath, the wind making it difficult to breathe. Sensing your struggle, Jace tightened his grip around your waist, his hand moving to your chest, guiding you. “Breathe with me,” he said, his voice steady and close. “In… and out. Slowly.”

You tried to follow his lead, inhaling deeply as he did, his presence grounding you. Gradually, your breath steadied, and you began to adjust to the sensation of flight, the terror giving way to awe.

Jace leaned closer, his voice just above the wind’s roar. “You’re doing well,” he said, his tone softer now, almost… proud.

The adrenaline coursing through you was intoxicating, and as Vermax soared through the skies, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of exhilaration unlike anything you’d ever experienced.

Tears sprang to your eyes, not from fear, but from the overwhelming beauty of it all—the vast expanse of the sky, the powerful dragon beneath you, and the realization that you were flying. Truly flying.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, Jacaerys noticed and pulled you closer. “Are you crying?” he asked, his tone somewhere between teasing and concern.

“I… I’ve never felt anything like this,” you admitted, your voice catching with emotion. “It’s… it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!”

You looked out over the landscape, your fear gradually giving way to amazement. The world seemed vast and beautiful from this height, and for a moment, all your worries and fears seemed small and distant.

When Vermax finally landed, your heart was still racing, but it was no longer from fear. Jace helped you dismount, his hands lingering on yours. His gloved hand wiped away your tears, your eyes shining with a newfound light.

"Thank you," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Remember your place, y/n" he said, repeating the same words he once spoke to you. "Not everyone is a dragon. Don't let them think they can push you."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. As he mounted Vermax once more, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment had changed something between you, something you couldn’t quite name.

Jacaerys gave you one last look, his expression bittersweet, before Vermax took to the skies again, leaving you standing there, breathless and overwhelmed by the experience.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

In the small town where you’d settled, life had taken on a simple turn. The days were long, filled with the clatter of mugs and the hum of conversation as you served folk in the tavern. Despite the work being tiring, there was a certain peace in the predictability of it all. The days were repetitive, but you were away from the politics and dangers of Dragonstone, away from the volatile nature of the court.

Yet, despite this newfound contentment, your thoughts often strayed back to the prince. In quiet moments, when your duties were done and you were alone in your small room above the tavern, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. It started innocently enough, a simple memory on his sharp gaze, the way his eyes seemed to pierce through you. But then, your thoughts became something more—something that made your breath hitch and your heart race.

You remembered the way he had stood so close to you, his tall frame towering over you, the heat of his body radiating against your skin. The memory of his voice, low and commanding, echoed in your ears, stirring something deep within you. There was a part of you that couldn’t forget the intensity of his touch, the way his hands guided you, strong and possessive, as if you were something that belonged to him.

Your thoughts became bolder, imagining what it would feel like if he had pulled you closer, if his lips had brushed against your skin. The idea of his power over you sent a thrill through your body, a tantalizing mixture of fear and desire. You found yourself longing for that feeling again—the rush of adrenaline, the helplessness of being under his control, the undeniable pull between you.

But with that heat came a deep sense of shame. You were low born. Nothing more than a commoner, a servant, and he was a prince of the realm. How could you, a mere tavern girl now, dare to feel this way about someone so far above your station? The very idea of it felt wrong, inappropriate, yet you couldn’t stop the thoughts from creeping in, couldn’t stop your body from reacting to the memories of him. The shame gnawed at you, making you feel small and unworthy, but it also made the desire burn hotter, a forbidden fire you didn’t know how to extinguish.

In your free time, you’d found solace in the company of a local pastor, a kind man who offered to teach you to read. You took to the lessons eagerly, and in time, he began to trust you with his collection of books. Most were on the Targaryens and their dragons.

The stories of the dragons captivated you. You learned their names, their temperaments, and the legends about them. And with each passage, your connection to the past, to the blood in your veins, grew stronger, even if you tried to suppress it.

But even more, these stories fed your thoughts of Jace. The more you read about the Targaryens, the more you understood the weight of the name he carried, the expectations, and the burden of his lineage. You wondered if he ever felt trapped by it, as you felt by your own place in society. And as you delved deeper into these histories, your fantasies of him grew more vivid, more intense, until you could almost feel him with you, his presence a ghostly weight that pressed against you in the night.

You couldn’t stop wanting him, couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like if the world were different, if you were different. You kept these feelings to yourself, unsure of what they meant or what you would even do if you were to ever see him again. For now, the tavern was your world, and Jace was a distant memory—one that haunted your nights and invaded your dreams with yearning.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jacaerys Velaryon had little time for distractions. His days were filled with duties—securing alliances for his mother, studying the intricate web of Targaryen bloodlines, and practicing his skills in combat. Every moment was a reminder of the precarious position his family held in the realm, the constant threat of war looming on the horizon. There was no room for error, no room for weakness.

And yet, despite his best efforts, his thoughts would often stray to you.

It was infuriating how easily you crept into his mind. A mere servant, a girl of no consequence, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about you. It started innocently enough, a fleeting memory of your purple wide-eyed expression when he had pulled you from the throne room, saving you from Vermithor. But those memories became something more.

He remembered the way you had trembled under his touch, the way your breath hitched when he had drawn close. It should have pleased him, the power he held over you, but instead, it had sparked something else—a desire that he found both confusing and inappropriate. You were beneath him, a commoner with no claim to anything, yet the memory of your body pressed against his, your soft curves against his hardened armor, lingered in his mind, refusing to be banished.

As he pored over maps and documents, his thoughts would drift to the feel of your skin under his hands, the warmth of your body against his. He wondered what it would be like to explore that warmth further, to strip away the layers of clothing that separated you and discover your body for himself. The thought alone made his blood run hot, and he cursed himself for allowing such distractions.

His days were a blur of meetings and training, his nights spent in restless sleep, plagued by dreams in which you featured prominently. He dreamed of claiming you, of possessing you in a way that no one else could, of making you his despite the vast chasm that separated your stations in life.

It was maddening. You were nothing, a nobody, and yet the thought of you with another man, of someone else touching touching whats his, filled him with a rage. How dare you make him feel this way, weak and conflicted?

The internal struggle only intensified as he learned more about the Targaryen bloodlines. It was that realization that troubled him the most. You were of Targaryen blood, however diluted, and that meant something.

His rational mind insisted that you were still nothing more than a servant, your bloodline a mere footnote in the grand history of his house. But another part of him, a darker, more primal one, demanded he claim you, possess you, and ensure that no one else could.

Even as he trained with the sword, his muscles burning from the exertion, his mind would wander to the way you had looked at him, the mixture of fear and something else in your eyes. It was intoxicating, the way you had both feared and desired him, and it made him want to see that look again, to push you further and see just how far he could go before you broke.

And then there was the shame. The shame of wanting someone so far beneath him, the shame of knowing that he was betraying everything he had been taught by even entertaining these thoughts. You were a bastard, a servant, a commoner, and he was a prince of the realm. It was absurd, scandalous even, to think that there could be anything between you. Yet, despite the shame, despite the knowledge that he was crossing a line, he couldn’t stop himself.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tag list:

@alwaysdaydreamingoffiction

@rav9n-16

@dracaryxzs

@jacaeryvardaddy

@ericasabe

@alessiaparigim

#hotd fanfic #hotd season 2 #hotd #house of the dragon #jace velaryon imagine #jace velaryon #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jecaerys velaryon fluff

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dykeomania · 11 months ago

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lovergirl!hazel headcanons

｡.｡ just some evidence of a love that transcends hunger, tbh.

a/n: i needed a break from writing a fic and wanted to write something sappy. this is the something sappy in question. wanted it to give how-you-become-hazel's-lover -> what she does when you're actually her lover vibe but it just got real mushy. i like it. i hope you like it, too. proofread, but i'm blind as fuck + i'm rusty, so.

tags: gender neutral (i think. i may have fucked up once or twice. please correct me if i did, i proofread fr fr over time. not intended for cis men), body neutral, and poc friendly. some niche reader things (tarot mention, reader wears makeup). mild nsfw -- kissing, making out, heavy petting. almost third base. starts in high school, ends in college.

practice fanfic etiquette. please don't plagiarize or repost my stuff.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who sits up straight on the edge of your bathtub and looks up at you in complete awe when you're getting ready. she's got the dumbest, most lovesick puppy look in her eyes as she watches her lover line her lips, and apply a sheer coat of gloss on top. when they turn around to ask if it's even, hazel smiles so wide that it makes the apples of her cheeks sore.

she doesn't really know if it looks okay, she just knows that she wants to kiss you.

she only manages an mhm because it's what you want from her and, well.. at this point, hazel's convinced that she'd drop just about everything to give whatever you want.

you snicker, closing the space between you in slow and steady strides. "what are you looking at, huh?" you teases, grin stretched across lips lined nude, gleaming pink.

"mmm..." hazel can't help but like, drunklenly (she's dead sober).. haphazardly loop you in by the belt loop, head tilting easily to the right. "yyyyyou."

her eyes droop as she falls victim to the familiar spell that you cast over her. one that starts with you taking her face in her hands, and bringing yourself close enough for to take in all at once. she's made dizzy by the smell of your conditioner, made defenseless by the familiar trace of your body wash radiating off of your skin.

"what're you looking at me for?" you grin, your hands hot on her cheeks as you stand between her legs.

"why wouldn't i wanna look at you?" hazel gently manages, hand finding comfortable purchase on your hips. she grips gently with admiration, fingertips pressing into sacred flesh of something, someone, who she couldn't believe is hers. "you're just so pretty."

but let's take a few steps back first,

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who meets you purely by coincidence. you don't go to fight club, and you don't do cheer. you don't have any classes together, you hardly even know of each other. you do, however, have to work concessions for football together one night.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't talk much, and honestly standing next to you feels kinda stupid with the bruise that she has on her cheek. she usually never really cares and she's usually super talkative -- she doesn't talk much because well.. she doesn't really know.. how to. how to talk to pretty people -- well, it's not like she finds you pretty, it's just.. anyways,

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who makes some dumb joke about athletes and you kind of snort.. and she's immediately charmed. hazel callahan who has a desire to keep you entertained, and continues to do so throughout the remainder of the game.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who actually is in your class, but, neither of you just really noticed. hazel callahan who sits next to you in the weeks following. who spends her free periods with you. who eats lunch with you. who eventually gets around to telling you about fight club, over turkey and rye sandwiches.

"so you just, like..." you take a break from chewing, tonguing some bread out of your back molar. "punch the shit out of each other, and it's school-sponsored?"

"...well, yeah. but in like a self-defense, queer way. bring people together, create some solidarity. a safe-space on campus for queer community, kind of thing."

"oh okay, so like, in a slay way," you revise.

hazel stares. scoffing out a gentle laugh. "uh... yeah.." hazel furrows her brows, shaking her head. "um.. what does that.. what does that, like, mean?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who becomes your best friend.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who really likes you. like, as a person.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who likes you maybe a little bit too much.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't know how to embroider, so when you embroidered her converse -- creating a wreath of vines, speckled with bright little flowers around the all star symbol -- she was so happy. but she felt so bad because she didn't know how to repay you.

"let me make it up to you?" she insists, fingers playing with your own, but not creating enough distraction to prevent you from protesting.

"what?" you scoff, subconsciously locking her hands with yours, as though you're about to declare a thumb war. "no, how?"

"i don't know! this is so nice, let me like..." hazel shrugs voice dropping timidly, "..take you out or something."

a beat passes, one that feels like forever. a large enough one to create space for all the butterflies to rumble around both of your stomachs, and for the elephant to pass through the room. hazel can't tell if it's your hand that's begun to sweat in your grasp, or if it's hers.

your eyes narrow at her, grin stretched into something cheshire as you shake your hand, and hers. "i think you just wanna take me out on a date."

hazel smiles sheepishly, cheeks flushing a bright flamingo. she shrugs, next words quiet and intentional,

"so what if i do?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan doesn't know how to embroider but she does have an eye for wildflowers. when the girl who shows up at your doorstep, it's with a dorky smile, a batch of spring, and a bandaid wrapped around her index finger and her thumb. the flowers that she biked about an hour north to pluck -- from a field she discovered after having simply gone too far -- are bunched together and wrapped in a trader joe's paper bag, the kind that her mom always leaves in the kitchen under the sink. she put the boquet together herself. spent too much time thinking about whether or not you would like the arrangement or the colors, probably went to the store to grab a few of your favorite flowers that she couldn't find.

"oh, these are for you. see, i tried to make this whole thing, like.. semi.. transactional. again, like, i don't really know how to embroider flowers, or like anything really, so... these were next best thing, i guess." she offers, as though it's nothing.

"you look.. really nice." hazel's eyes linger, stricken and dumb. she fills her lungs with air, huffing out her next sentence. "are yoooouuu.. ready to go?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who thinks that star signs mean nothing, and doesn't know jackshit about crystals or anything of the like. but hazel callahan who is all eyes and ears, criss-cross-apple-sauce with you on her floor, as she watches you knock your knuckles on a deck of tarot cards and shuffle through them for what you called a "semi unreliable, two-card reading."

hazel callahan who jumps a little when two cards fly out from the deck. who furrows her eyebrows when you turn the over. an the lovers and two of cups, both upright.

"what..." she snorts. "what does that mean?"

"um.." she watches you blush. "it means.." and she blushes when your eyes linger on hers, and then look up. feels her stomach flutter when she watches you take a deep breath in through your nose, like you're shuffling through all of the words in your head.

"...let's just saaaaayyyy... nnnew connections might be coming your way, soon."

hazel has no fucking idea what that means, looking at you, she surely could hope that that's true.

...

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is shocked that you want to like.. have a sleepover with her. this doesn't really happen to her. like at all. but it's happening with you, so she's down.. but it has to be planned. hazel callahan pulls out all the stops to try to make sure that it's.. well, perfect, she guesses? she makes sure that it's on a weekend where her mom is out of town (not even because she wants to do anything but you know how her mom is). she asks you what all of your favorite snacks are beforehand, and offers to go get more if you run out. she makes sure that you have satin pillowcases if you have textured hair, just in case you forget a bonnet, or anything. probably does that regardless of whether or not that's applicable to you, because she hears it's better for your skin and what not. she gets a weighted blanket for you and some extra pillows + takes out an extra throw if she knows that you get cold easily, or damn near strips her bed down to just one comforter and gets a desk fan to face her bed if she knows that you get too hot.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who you create a shared movie list with, and who will sit with you and watch all of your favorite movies. all of your least favorite movies. will watch movies that you insist that she must see and will do so with very little fight because it's whatever you want, really. hazel callahan who is very quickly realizing that she would do whatever you wanted, as long as it meant that it got you to smile.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ (hazel callahan who, granted, talks through a lot of those fucking movies. like. hazel callahan who has a really fucking hard time paying attention to movies.)

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who clearly has overthought everything. who laughs at and understands all of your dumb jokes and is always a little shocked when you laugh at hers. who lets you rest your head on her shoulder when you watch movies in her home-theater. who lays with you in her bed and compares your tiktok for you page with hers and finds it a little too easy to poke fun of you. finds it not as easy to remain calm when your head rests comfortably on her chest, and thus hopes to god that all of the cringy tiktok audios are masking the sound of her heart beating out of her chest.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who looks at you when you mention that it's getting late, and insists that there's a guest room if you wanna sleep in there, or an air mattress that she was supposed to blow up.

"it's too late for that, though." you frown.

"no," hazel, being hazel, is quick to reassure, shaking her head. "no, no, i could totally blow it up. we have an automated pump, it'll take like 20 minutes."

"mm, i don't know, it's still kinda late for all of that..."

hazel blinks at you. her eyebrows raise, corners of her lips gently upturning. "okay. i mean, do you wanna take the guest room?"

you look up at her, eyes big on purpose. "that guest room's kinda scary." you lift a brow. "it's dark. and cold."

hazel thinks she might.. be tripping. she has to be. her blink is slow, and her face knots together, and releases -- the way it does when she gets all timid and indecisive. "o..kay..." she grins nonetheless, furrowing her eyebrows. "so then .. where are you gonna sleep?"

"..i mean.." you burn, and so does she. "...i could just sleep here with you?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who can't help but feel girlish and vulnerable laying in her bed with you, her stomach tied in knots over how there is nothing usual about this situation. fully seeing you in your pajamas. feeling the gentle flesh of your bare calves rub against hers. being within such close proximity of you that she can still smell the lingering remnants of soap on your skin from your shower.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who dares to let her finger dance on your upper bicep, but that's just about it, really.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who only nudges closer only when you nudge closer. who only lowers her voice, when you lower your voice. who only holds eye contact when you start it, but is always the first to look away.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who falls into a trap: eye contact held after some conversation that did not, and does not matter. she follows your eyes down, chocolate eyes focusing on the arch of your cupids bow. she does tilt her head up to find her nose nudging softly against the underside of yours. she doesn't know how you two got this close. hazel callahan who feels her hands grow sweaty, feeling your breath linger over her the chap of her lips. who nearly stiffens when she feels your hand press into her back, but instead arches into the crevice your body makes and presses her palm against your hip.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who does what she thinks she's supposed to do, and kisses you -- soft and gentle, like the whispers that fluttered over both of your lips earlier. brief, and endearing.

her lips stick to yours, and then her lips press into yours. and then her lips open when yours do, and her hand tightens on you when yours does.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who has no fucking idea what she's doing. like, seriously. she kind of knows -- i mean, okay, yeah, she knows how to kiss, but this is, like.. not just a kiss. hazel's kisses are brief. gentle, maybe a little slow. never this deep. hazel callahan who forgets herself when her fingers weave through your hair. hazel callahan who doesn't recognize the way her breath shakes in your throat when your fingers ambitiously sift through her thick, black locks and pull.

hazel callahan whose lips slot over yours, and unlock. who leans forward when you lean back, and is almost nearly on top of you.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't know what to do with her hand, so she puts it everywhere. glides it over your side, presses it over the expanse of your lower back. who smooths her hand under your shirt and marvels in the way your skin burns against her palm. who itches to explore, traversing over your stomach, venturing up, up, and up--

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who stops dead in her tracks when you hum something sour in her mouth and grab her wrist. who looks at you stunned with parted lips as you softly shake your head against hers.

"not yet," you pant, opening your eyes to look at her. "not yet."

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who bats her lashes, dizzy with affection yet sobered from your action. she knows how you sound. not like you're rejecting her, but like you're admitting something, which you.. might be. something that she understands. regardless, she understands.

but she burns bright with embarrassment, stomach rattling with a guilt that crawls up her throat and wraps around it, tightening and tightening...

"yeah," she manages a whispers after a while. somehow, it's still raspy. "yeah, okay.."

"okay.."

"...m'sorry--"

"don't be," you shake your head. "keep kissing me."

you rush, and it's kind of just in time. whatever stinging was lingering in her chest subsides as you bring yourself closer, lips softly capturing her lower lip in affirmation after hazel just stares at you.

hazel callahan who blinks, oscillating between consciences, dazed and a little confused. she's cautious and readjusted, her hand only lingering over your side as she whispers a faint "are you sure..?"

the sentence dissolves when on the tip of hazel's tongue when her lips find yours again, at your action, which is her answer. hazel callahan who listens. who lets you take her hand and place it somewhere that feels more comfortable, somewhere that's right and yet still sensual.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is wiped, but intentional with every kiss that either you or her leads, every swipe of her lips over your jaw, every tender kiss that you let her place against the stretch of your neck.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who will admire within her bounds. kissing you, and drowning in you until she is simply too sleepy to continue. until she is dizzy and feels comfortable enough to nuzzle her face somewhere into the crook of you, breathing you in until you become a part of her dreams,

and she will wake -- in the morning, and in the middle of the night -- only to have a hard time believing that she isn't still dreaming.

...

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who kind of has to get used to.. all of it. who crushes, even though she's already "achieved," so to speak. who grins at her phone when she's texted, who finds any excuse to facetime you and keep you on the line -- sometimes just so that she can look at you. who finds any excuse to be around you.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who you can't get rid of once you go both go to college. who facetimes you whenever, who visits you on weekends. who comes into your space and steals all of your sweatshirts and your pajama pants and of course, all of your spare time.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel "no, i can make that for you" callahan who can't embroider, but can crochet. she will buy you that jellycat that you really want, a hundred percent. hazel callahan will also greet you with a fucked up rendition of said stuffed animal that you wanted (giving jamdog, perhaps) and furrows her eyebrows when you have to hide your laugh with your hand.

"what?" she asks, grin dulling only for a moment. "do you not like it?"

"no it's--" you cover your mouth. "it's perfect." you cackle. when you cup her cheeks, all the worry and fear of judgement fades. sort of. at least enough. "you're perfect, babe. i love it."

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who does, in fact, keep a picture in her wallet of her lover, ready at all times. hazel callahan who weaves her lover into casual conversation.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who still doesn't really understand figure of speech all that well so when you say things like "i wish you could just come over," she literally goes "..well like, i could,"

and then proceeds to make like, a three hour drive.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who keeps the picture that you hate of yourself as her lockscreen and it's not to spite you, it's because she thinks you're beautiful, and she has no idea what you're talking about.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who figures out what names you like to be called by throwing everything at a wall and seeing that sticks. pretty. handsome. lover. angel. baby. and when she does find one, one that makes you blush just about as hard as she does every time you even look in her direction, she holds it over your head to high heavens. makes it your contact name. uses it to punctuate reassuring sentences, when she greets you, when she tells you goodnight.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who gets to take you on real dates, and gets excited to. who gets giddy when you get ready. who gets to fix your hair and come up behind you when you take mirror selfies once you're finished. who now feels comfortable enough to place her hands at the mid-point of your waist and let them venture toward your frontside while she rests her chin on your shoulder, and leans in to kiss your cheek. who tells you you smell nice, and makes you smile when she buries her face into some part of you and literally just goes rahhhh!!!!

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is also stuck sometimes, in moment such as these, watching the wonder who she has had a crush on since high school -- jesus, has it really been that long? -- with gentle eyes and a completely disarmed disposition.

hazel callahan who is honestly such a fucking loser -- like, literally, loser-since-birth, no-hope-since-middle-school, gay-haircut-and-new-repotoire-can't-save-you, loser, and can't help but ponder and marvel over how someone like you is in her hands. in her face. in her life.

"m'not that pretty," you insist, fingers weaving through her hair, nails etching at hazel's scalp in a way that hazel has grown to like. love, even.

her eyes flicker over your face, smile lopsided and eyes heavy like despite everything, you don't even know the half of it. she scoffs, voice hardly above a whisper,

"yeah no, you are so much more than pretty."

#hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #lesbian #wlw #bisexual #sapphic #ruby cruz #ruby cruz x reader #bottoms movie #bottoms 2023 #lets go lesbians

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 1 year ago

Text

A flock of elephants

Written for the November warm-up round of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: Bakery AU

Rated: T

CW: some sexual tension and innuendo

Tags: Baker Steve, Rockstar Eddie

Notes: Can be read as a continuation of this microfic

“You don't understand how huge a deal this is, Steve,” Dustin says. He’s wiggling in the passenger seat, trying to take in every bit of their surroundings as they pull up to the concert hall.

Steve huffs and squints at the signs. There's security and fans and staff everywhere and he can feel a headache coming up.

"A guy asked me to bake a cake, so what? It's literally what I do for a living, nothing-"

"A guy asked you to-" Dustin sputters. "Excuse me, what did you say? Eddie Munson commissioned you to bake a replica of his world famous Warlock, do you have any- Do you even know who Eddie Munson is?"

"Of course I know," Steve grouses. "I don't live under a rock."

"Oh yeah?" Dustin levels him with an unimpressed look. "Name one of his songs."

"Please," Steve rolls his eyes. "You're blasting that shit on repeat, it's practically seared into my brain. Especially the one about the elephants."

Dustin stares at him. Steve resists the urge to pinch his nose.

"You know the one! What was it? Flock of Elephants?"

Dustin crumples into the car seat and slaps both palms to his forehead. "It's A Court of Sycophants, Steve! Oh my God!"

"Synchro-what?" Steve ignores the way his neck prickles and takes a sharp right. "You just made that up. Now help me look for the delivery entrance or we won't have ourselves a deal at all."

Once they find the entrance, it turns out he forgot the ID badge that the label sent, because of fucking course he did. He spends about half an hour trying to convince the grumpy security guard to let them in while Dustin has a complete meltdown. Just as he's ready to give up, they're rescued by the appearance of a tiny blonde in a pink cardigan who cheerfully introduces herself as Eddie’s manager.

"Sorry about Hop," she says for what must be the fourth time, while Steve sets up the guitar-shaped cake at the center of the buffet and Dustin inspects the backstage lounge with awestruck eyes. "He takes his job very seriously."

"Yeah, I noticed," Steve mutters. She seems nice enough, but he really doesn’t wanna engage in smalltalk right now. The bustle of the stage hands and the hot air of the venue are making him squeamish. All he wants to do is get this over with and go home.

Unfortunately fate must hate him, because that is the exact moment that a familiar voice says, "Hey, Chris. No matter what Hop tells you, I didn't order hookers to the venue. I dunno where he got the-"

Dustin starts squealing.

"Oh my God, you're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie squints at him like a confused cat.

"Last time I checked, yeah. And you are?"

"Dustin," says Dustin, like that explains everything. "I'm with Steve."

Eddie’s eyes flit over and his face breaks into a delighted, dimpled smile.

"Baker boy, hi!"

Steve's mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t know why, but all of the easy confidence of their last meeting is suddenly gone.

Maybe it's because they were in the bakery, on his own turf, and now they're on Eddie’s, where the lights and the noise and the hum of the crowd in the auditorium are grating on his nerves.

Maybe it's because last time, Eddie looked like just some guy in his ripped jeans and ratty hoody, unwashed hair piled in a chaotic bun, and now …

… now he's in a pair of leather pants that are so tight they may as well be spray-painted on and what looks like a fucking harness, hair cascading around his face and shoulders in a halo of messy curls and is that eyeliner?

"Woah," Eddie breathes, eyes growing large, and yup, eyeliner. Definitely eyeliner, Jesus fucking Christ. With two long strides of those impossibly long legs, he's beside Steve and ogling the cake with an awestruck face. "This is fucking incredible, dude, it looks just like the real thing. You did all that from the photos?"

By some miracle, Steve manages to channel the incoming blush into a sly pop of his hips and a smug eyebrow quirk.

"Told you I was the best."

Eddie is looking at him like he didn't bake a cake but hung the moon, which … in combination with the eyeliner and the leather and the harness of it all? Steve squirms in his jeans.

"Okay, erm … if that's all, I'll send over the bill by-"

"Wait, what? You're not staying for the show?" Eddie swivels to Chrissy, all righteous indignation. "Why are they not staying for the show?"

Chrissy shrugs, at the same time that Steve says, "That's really not necessa-"

"We'd love to stay!"

Dustin shoves himself between them, elbowing him in the kidneys. While Steve is still coughing, Eddie turns to Chrissy.

"Show the young man to the backstage area, Chris?"

Dustin looks like he's about to die of happiness, so Steve resigns himself to his fate.

"Will you play the one about the psychopaths?" he asks as they trail after him. "It's his favorite."

"Psycho-" Eddie’s brow wrinkles.

"Sycophants, Steve!" Dustin hollers from ahead. "Jesus!"

"Anyways," Steve says over Eddie’s rumbling laughter. "You really didn't have to-"

"I know I didn't." Eddie accepts his guitar - the real one - from a stage hand and slings it over his shoulder. "But I saw what you're best at, so I figured I'd return the favor."

"Careful there," Steve huffs. "All you've done is ogle my cake. You may wanna try it first."

"Oh, I'm planning to …" Eddie's smile is sharp as he leans in, close to his ear. "Preferably with less people around, though."

And then he's gone, stepping out on the stage, making his guitar wail.

Steve can't quite tell if the roar in his ears is the crowd or the sound of his own blood.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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