#THE BELT MAKES HIM LOOK SNATCHED FOR NO REASON

[ouchiis]

i've been dead all day but. ouye sim jumpscare. he's just a lil guy

[heesvnqie]

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 - Shim Jaeyun || Jake

Pairing: Shim Jaeyun!Jake x female reader

Word count: 6.5k+

Genre: smut, angst

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪: In the dynamic between Jake and you, a rivalry has always existed, characterized by a facade of indifference that you maintained to conceal your true emotions. While you mirrored Jake's competitive spirit, you chose to suppress your feelings, burying them deep within your heart to ensure he remained oblivious to your inner turmoil. However, this time, will Jake unearth the entire truth, revealing the depth of your emotions that you had long kept hidden or would he find himself ensnared in a complex web of emotions as he begins to develop feelings for you, his academic rival, a situation that will leave him both exhilarated and conflicted?

Trailer attached here

99

It was impossible for you to score 99 in English. Your best subject was English. You furiously flipped through the pages of your answer sheet, searching in vain for that one mistake.

Jake walked up to his seat beside you, with a devilish smile. You knew the reason behind that smile. He had again scored marks higher than you.

100

A perfect 100 was written on the exam sheet that Jake plastered on your face.

"Aww did my baby get lower marks than me?" He said in a mocking tone, patting your head sarcastically. You yanked his hand off your head.

"Just one subject." You snapped back as a habit of thinking that it was impossible for Jake to beat you in more than one subject. He clicked his tongue.

"Naur. In mathematics too." he continued , reminding you of the distribution of the answer sheets in maths class.

With a smirk that you wanted to rip off from his face, he sat down as you rolled your eyes . As you stared at the perfect 100 on his paper for a while and then turned to fling his sheet at him, but the view in front of you stopped you.

Beside you sat Jake, manspreaded with his back arched on the chair, his eyes closed and a hand rummaging in his hair as a groaned slipped from his mouth.

You snapped your head back to the infront, blush creeping up on your cheeks. After studying day and night for weeks, you were both exhausted. Yet you continued to see graphic scenarios in your head with context to the scenario. The vision persisted in your memory even after you shook your head to ignore it.

You placed his sheet on his side of the table.

"T-there's your paper." You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering. He looked up as he sat up straight. He held his paper with a smile.

Yes. You liked your academic rival.

The reasons behind your emotional attachment to Jake was complex. It is possible that the intense environment of academic rivalry had fostered a unique bond between the two of you. Additionally, Jake's qualities, such as his intellect, determination, or charisma, may have drawn you to him. The interplay of rivalry and attraction had blurred the lines between academic rivalry and personal feelings, making it difficult for you to understand emotions.

You passed him your answer sheet as he snatched it from your hand, acting as if submitting your sheet with his was so annoying. You hit him on the arm as he chuckled out, jogging away from the seat to submit the sheets.

You had to admit he looked heavenly handsome in the school uniform. With his light blue shirt's top three buttons undone, his black pants patched well with his gucci's signature leather belt. A silver ring shined on his index finger. The ring created a strange and unique sound whenever Jake knocked on the table with it.

Jake walked back up, high-fiving all the girls who spread their hands to feel the touch of Jake's hand. As they felt his hand on theirs, they burst out giggling and squeakling.

You tried your best not to cringe, seeing the girls drool over him. Jake walked up the aisle to your shared seat, he spread his hand for a high-five from you. "Come on. For once just praise me and that I did well." He said giving puppy-eyes.

You tried your best to not let your composure slip, but eventually you found yourself high-fiving Jake.

He smirked. "Even the Min Y/N, high-fived as a sign for surrendering from her first position."

You stood up, slamming the desk, grabbing Jake by the collar.

"I never said that." You growled almost into his face. He lifted his hands in surrender as you left his collar and stormed out of the class.

You had the last three periods of the day with Jake again. You groaned annoyed.

He sure knew how to get on your nerves.

As you finished your classes of other courses, you found out that Jake had scored higher marks than you in 3 subjects out of six. You had scored higher than him in 3.

This lead to your anxiety. Jake was almost there. He almost beat your marks.

You walked up to the classroom. You prepared yourself mentally for tolerating Jake.

You walked the aisle, noticing Jake already seated. He seemed to be busy in his laptop. You quietly walked up to him, as you sat down. You peeked at what he was doing.

He was chatting with Jungwon on Kakao talk. Jungwon messaged him,"Hey! You coming on Hoon's today's party?"

Jake had replied with a "Nah bro."

But Jungwon's next message that popped up caught your attention.

"Katrina is coming."

Jake's composure changed as he replied,"Hmm. I'll see then. ;)"

You felt a pang on your heart. A weird aching feeling filled your chest. Jake shut his laptop as he looked towards you.

"Whatcha snooping at?" He said as he slid his aptop into his bag.

Usually, you looked back towards him passing him a sarcastic comment. But today you choose to remain quiet.

On the other hand, Jake looked towards expecting a reaction out of you. He knew you had seen the message about Katrina. He badly wanted you to get jealous.

He had been experiencing these weird feelings for a while. When he had periods without you, a feeling of emptiness filled him. He thought he liked Katrina at first but realised it was actually nothing. She didn't strike up feelings within him like you did.

He painfully looked at you, wanting to hear your voice to shoot a comment at him. A comment to start a chat or arguement that Jake loved.

You didn't notice his condition as thoughts coursed through your brain. Anxiety stirred up within you at the thought of Jake liking someone else. 3 periods passed away with a snap, and soon you found yourself walking towards your home.

A hand draped across your shoulder. It was your bestfriend, Ryujin.

"Hello there!" She said as she ruffled your hair. You nodded acknowledging her presence. Friday was the day of the week when you and Ryujin had no class of any courses together. You had genuinely missed her but you were far more lost thinking about all the thoughts that whirled inside your head.

"Well what's up?" She asked. You sighed. You started explaining to her about how Jake had scored marks higher than you in three subjects and that you were mainly worried about having a one-sided unrequited love. Ryujin chuckled.

"Don't worry, Min (Y/N)! You are coming with me to Sunghoon's party too!", she declared, catching you off guard.

"Wait, what?!" you stammered, halting in surprise as she laughed at your reaction

"Sunghoon was searching for you to invite you but he couldn't find you so he thought that why not inform me cause I am going and I am your bestfriend too." She explained as you nodded unable to speak.

She playfully shoved you as she said ,"Go home and get dressed. We leave in an hour."

She winked as she walked away towards her house just a street away from yours.

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

You looked at yourself in the mirror for the last time before grabbing your purse and walking out of your house. Ryujin stood there waiting for you. As her eyes landed on you, she couldn't control admiring you.

"You look.." She looked at you top to bottom. "..so pretty."

"Jake would be a fool not falling for you." She said earning a playful nudge from you.

You two took a cab to Sunghoon's condo.

As you stepped into Sunghoon's huge condo, the atmosphere was buzzing with excitement and laughter. The living room was packed with students, all mingling and enjoying the lively vibe. Colorful lights flickered around the space, casting a warm glow over the crowd.

Tables were lined with an array of drinks, from beer to cocktails, and everyone seemed to be in high spirits, raising their glasses and toasting to the night ahead. Music pulsed through the air, setting the perfect backdrop for conversations and dance-offs.

At a side, a group was engaged in a spirited game of beer pong, while others were sprawled on the couches, sharing stories and making new friends. The energy was infectious, and it felt like the perfect escape from the stress of classes, with everyone just letting loose and enjoying the moment.

In one corner of the enormous living room sat Jake's group of boys, who were also known as ENHYPEN in the whole school. Their fingers wrapped around long alcohol filled glasses as they chatted away. You spotted Jake and Sunghoon in the group.

Jake eyes reached yours as his eyes widened in surprise as he sat up.

" Min Y/N?" He called out as immidiately the whole attention of the group of the boys were on you and Ryujin.

The boys waved, calling you two over. Ryujin wore a suit as she walked over sitting next to Sunghoon. As Heeseung made space for you to sit next to him, Jake pushed Jay, who was sitting next to him over there.

Jay almost crashed onto the seat.

"Jake what the h-" Before he could speak up, Jake spoke up to you patting the place beside him where Jay was previously sitting,"You can seat here."

Jay and the others immidiately understood the reason as they looked at each other, trying their best not to smirk.

You sat down as Jungwon passed you a glass of alcohol.

The night grew deep as you found yourself enjoying more than ever. You chatted away with Sunghoon soon as you found out he liked Ryujin when Ryujin chatted over with the other boys.

You didn't know that someone was burning holes through Sunghoon. It was none other than Jake. His grip tightened of his glass, threatening to break it. As Sunghoon came close to you, to whisper something in your ears, Jake jolted up as he stormed out away.

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

It didn't take long for you to notice that Jake was starting to ignore you completely, treating you with increasing rudeness . As your academic rival, his behavior became more abrasive, making it clear that he was not just competing with you in school but also trying to undermine your confidence.

His dismissive attitude and snarky comments made it difficult to focus on your studies, and it felt like he was going out of his way to make you feel inferior. But your heart still beated fast at his every comment.

Jake tried his best to ignore you. He just couldn't. Realisation had dawned him that he liked you and after seeing you so close with Sunghoon he felt like he had no chance. He couldn't get attached to you anymore. If he did, he wouldn't ever be able to leave you.

Jake had you in a emotional toll for the whole week as you felt broken as well as heated up. So, at the end of the week, you agreed to Ryujin at once when she told you that you were invited to Jungwon's party this week.

You found yourself sitting in one of the couches once again. But this time you sat next to Sunghoon. You noticed how Jake looked at Sunghoon as if Jake would kill him if he found him alone.

The bottle spinned and soon all the others indulged deep into the game of truth and dare. You and Jake were the ones who were not as indulged into the game as the others.

Your eyes soon travelled over to his, as you found him already looking at you. His dark eyes bore into you.

No one realised when Jake stood up or when Jake pulled you up with him, dragging you by your wrist.

You are dragged into a quiet hall of the condo.

"What the hell-" Your sentence is cut off by Jake pressing you against the wall in the dark corner of the hall, your eyes rising to meet the pair of pretty brown ones, jake’s pupils wide from how buzzed he is right now.

You can feel yourself tensing in his hold, both scared and turned on from the mere proximity of his body.

The heat of his body overwhelms you as he places one hand on your waist, the other against the wall at the side of your head, trapping you in place beneath his towering frame.

“Shim Jaeyun, what are you doing?” you push against his chest, his body not moving an inch. Oh god he was strong and his broad shoulders and his thick, toned arms.

"Just shut up!" He says as he opens one of the room door pulling you in with him.

"Just stop it!" He yells as you stand in front of him with widened eyes never expecting to see Jake in such a frustrated and desperate state.

"Stop messing with me! I just can't get you out of my brain!" He yells out. "Night after night, I just can't stop thinking about you."

You stand there in surprise never expecting to hear these words from Jake.

"You go on hanging around with Sunghoon and think it really doesn't affect me?! I don't like Katrina! It's just a codename for your name!" Jake says as his eyes meet yours.

"And still you mess around with me!" He growls as he pushes you onto the bed, hovering over you.

You take advantage of this moment to lean forward and capture his plump lips in a kiss, dirty and absolutely desperate. desperate for his touch, however you can get it.

Jake returns the favor, slotting his lips against yours, feeling every crevice of your gorgeous lips under his own. He fights back a moan, knowing he needs to maintain dominance over the situation. He squeezes tighter on your neck and you let out a small moan, allowing him to press his tongue into your mouth. you nearly gasp at the intrusion, relishing in the feeling of him nearly eating you from the inside out.

"I love you, I like you as long as I remember knowing you." You say as he snaps.

Jake’s kisses move lower, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands are everywhere, caressing, teasing, and worshipping your body.

He roughly removes your dress and slips your panties down and slides a hand over your pussy which makes you gasp. You tilt your head back and he makes rounded movements on your clit.

Suddenly he flattens his tongue over you, licking a long line from your entrance to your clit. You cry out again, feeling lightheaded as your hands squeeze into fists. He slides 2 fingers into your slick opening, and you know it won't be long before you're coming.

"You're?", he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive growl. His eyes lock onto yours, the intensity in his gaze holding you captive. Your back arches off the wall, and you struggle to find your voice, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps

"Y-yours," you manage to whisper out.

Jake’s dark smirk widens, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He moistens his hand, his fingers gliding over your clit with a newfound slickness, amplifying the sensation. The friction combined with the wetness sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you cry out. His movements become more insistent, his fingers expertly playing your body.

Jake’s fingers maintain their relentless rhythm, each movement pushes toward your climax.

His fingers explore lower, moving in your wetness before returning to your clit, now wet with your cunt and his cock. He adds a third finger, sliding them inside you, curling them just right to hit that sensitive spot that makes your knees almost give out. Your body is caught in a whirlwind of pleasure as you hear him say,"Tell me how much you want this."

"I need you so bad, jakey. please, don’t stop." You moan out hugging his body tight.

His eyes darken with desire, and increases the pace of his fingers, thrusting them deeper inside you. The sound of your wetness fills the bedroom.

"Come for me, angel."

His words is your signal. With a final, high-pitched moan, you come, your body clenching around his fingers, the pleasure crashing over you in waves.

As you calm down, he takes his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight is intense and turning on.

Jake kisses you, lips claiming yours with a new level of neediness. You can taste yourself on his tongue, a reminder of the pleasure he just gave you.

He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you, his breath ragged. He unbuckles his belt as fast as he could as he rubs himself to you beneath him.

Jake’s eyes glow with lust and pleasure, as he aligns his cock with your entrance, his tip touching your sensitive clit, making you gasp.

Jake chuckles darkly as he slams into you, a broken groan leaving his lips. He begins to fuck into you at such a pace that you cling to him, moans and desperate cries leaving your lips. Jake's lips find your neck and bite at the skin there leaving purple-ish hickeys as he continues to snap his hips into yours and every time his pelvis connects with yours, you swear you could see stars/

"You’re MINE." He groans, his voice rough. "Damn you make me feel so good."

You can only moan in response, your body meeting his thrusts eagerly, the pleasure overwhelming. Jake’s movements become more uneven, his control slipping completely as he nears his own climax. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." The word 'fuck' falls from his mouth like a mantra.

You feel yourself moving toward another climax.

"Cummming for me again princess? yeah?" He says, his forehead still on yours, his breathing ragged.

With a final, powerful thrust, he sends you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy.

He follows you moments later, his own release tearing through him, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you. He collapses on top of you, his breath ragged and his body trembling.

As he lies down on the bed besdie you, you look towards him with a smile.

"Let's keep it a secret for now." You propose the idea as his eyes glint as he smirks and nods speaking up,

"For now, let it be our dirty little secert."

PART 2 COMING SOON!!!

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[ebodebo]

Tough As Nails—Cowboy Like Me!

thinking about cowboy!simon riley… | part four |

<- previous

The beginning of August usually brings the peak of summer warmth, but unfortunately for you, it seems the end of July supplied the real heat—just not in the ways you had expected. 

Even all of two weeks after your encounter with Sam, you seethed. Harsh anger and heat spread through your being, boding for a tiny little catalyst to ignite your flame. And you weren't the only one feeling the feverish heat.

To say that Simon was angry would be a gross understatement. A storm has been brewing inside him ever since he pulled up to that shitty dive-bar, seeing you sitting on the dirty curb, smudged mascara dripping down your plump cheek, tainting your beautiful face, eyes blood-shot and swollen. Your voice strained and cracked as you said his name, questioning if it was really him. 

The real nail on the coffin was what you had confessed to him in his truck. Sam had insinuated you were a slut. Simon's muscles tightened, and his jaw clenched every time he remembered what that deprived asshole told you. The only reason he didn't flip the truck around and speed back to that dive-bar, grab Sam's sorry-ass out of the seat he sit in, and slam him into the wall, was because you had pleaded he didn't.

He was gracious to you by respecting your wishes, but this ordeal festered in him too much to leave it untouched. Simon was a God-damn machine with no impulse control. A loose-canon. And this canon was ready to blow right through that city-slicking prick's front-fucking-door. 

Which was preciously what he did.

Simon threw himself inside his truck at about eleven at night, a Manila folder tucked gently away in his jacket, not even bothering to strap on his safety belt as he drove to that bastard's house. Simon hoped, prayed, that Sam was asleep so that he could be the one to jerk him out of his peaceful slumber and make him wonder if he was in a nightmare. 

He halted as his truck brushed against the curb in front of his house, turning off his engine and stepping out of the truck. He scoffed as he took in the sight of the house. It was huge, no, enormous. Creamy, muted blue paint coated the paneled front and sides of the house, and a classic picket white fence encased the backyard. 

Two white Range Rovers and a white Porche sat in the driveway, along with two golf carts sequestered to the right side of the house. Simon noticed the Porsche's shit parking job and dirt-covered windows and noted it was Sam's car, just for future reference. 

After his observations, he casually strolled up to the front door, pressing a little bell encased in a palm leaf cover. It didn't take long for Simon to hear the soft pad of feet descending down what he assumed was a staircase. 

The door swung open to reveal a disheveled Sam; clearly, he was asleep. Simon smiled internally. Sam's eyes looked like saucers when he realized it was Simon. His face paled like he had seen a ghost or something.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Sam spit, perplexed at Simon's presence.

"Came to chat," Simon says cooly. "Preferably outside."

"Fuck no." Sam gnarls. "You need to leave my property."

"Ah." Simon tuts as he reaches into his jacket to grab the nicely tucked-away Manila folder. He carefully opens it and reads the first couple of lines. 

"Ryan Jennings worked for Capitol Guild Investment Firm before it was found he had embezzled a million—"

"Hey, hey. Where the hell did you get that?" Sam quickly supplied, stepping away from the door to try and snatch the folder from Simon's grasp. Simon jerked away from him, holding his finger up as he continued reading. 

"—dollars from the firm's clientele, though no legal action was taken, Jennings was to return all assets, estimating one million dollars, and issue his resignation promptly." Simon neatly closed the folder, eyeing Sam.

"So, as I said," Simon began. "Let's talk outside." Sam sighed deeply before turning to close the door gently.

"I have my resources." Simon casually says, stepping into the grass on the front lawn, with Sam following suit.

"So, what, what do you want? Money?" Sam timidly asks, running his hands through his hair.

Simon lets out a gruff laugh. "Money? You think I want money?" 

"You don't?" Sam questions, unable to believe a man like Simon could be doing this for more than monetary gain.

"You don't talk to her. Ever." Simon roughly says as a sly smirk spreads across Sam's face.

"Is it that good?" Sam smugly asks, placing his hands in his sweatpants pockets.

"The fuck you talkin' about?" Simon cocks his head, narrowing his eyes at Sam. 

Sam shrugs. "Her pussy."

Without warning, Simon lunged forward, his fist aiming straight at Sam's jaw. An immediate stinging pain spread that radiated through his face and head, making him falter back. Blood seeped out of his mouth, and a faint ringing noise could be heard in his ear. But, he quickly gained momentum, his own fist coiling like a spring.

He unexpectedly connected his punch to Simon's face head-on with a swift, decisive motion. Busting his bottom lip, with blood seeping down his chin and jaw. Simon quickly spit out some extra blood onto the grass before grabbing Sam by his shirt. 

"I know guys like you." Simon roughly says, his own blood and spit spurting onto Sam's face. "Pretentious little bastards who only think about themselves." 

He gripped his shirt tighter, making him slightly hover above the grass. "I bet you'd blow yourself if you could." He grits out, forcefully throwing him onto the ground.

"Stay the fuck away from her." Simon wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he turns to go to his truck.

"You know I'm not like that anymore," Sam speaks, making Simon roll his eyes. Simon turns to face Sam, who is still on the ground.

"You can change your name. Run from the city with your tail between your legs, but nothin' can change the greedy fuckin' animal you are." 

With that, Simon turned away and went straight for his truck, leaving Sam to sulk with the ants.

On the drive back to the ranch, Simon regretted not doing more to Sam, but Sam had a worse punishment than Simon releasing his venom on him: living the rest of his life as a nobody with his legacy cloaked in disgrace. 

Simon pulled up in front of his house, hissing as the cold air brushed against his busted lip, as he stepped out of his truck. He pulled open his front door to meet you sitting on the couch in the living room. 

"You haven't been answering your phone." You somberly say from your position on the couch, not noticing his busted lip and bruised face because it was dim where he stood.

"I know." He ducked his head, not moving closer to you, not wanting you to see him so clearly in the light.

"Come here." You pat the cushion next to you, tilting your head as he turns to go to the kitchen instead. You stand, following him to the kitchen, observing him as he fills a glass full of water at the sink, his back to you.

"You should be asleep," He gruffly says, taking a sip of the water, swirling it in his mouth to remove some of the coppery taste, and spitting it into the sink.

"Don't change the subject." You scowl, moving closer to him, bringing your hand to touch his own gently.

"Why won't you look at me?" He takes another sip of water, this time swallowing it.

"Cowboy?" You softly urge, your fingers gently brushing his forearm. He takes a deep sigh, though his lip quirks at your nickname.

"Please look at me." There is a pleading note in your voice. He takes a longer sip of the water, swallowing, before slowly turning to face you. Your eyes widen as you observe the purple bruises covering various parts of his face, his busted lips caked in dry blood, and the blood dripping down his chin and jaw pooling onto his shirt.

"What happened?" You quietly question, raising your hand to brush your fingers along his lip delicately.

"Ah, just some shit." He vaguely says. You narrow your eyes at him, but you see it in his eyes. He was tired. Worn-out. It could wait until tomorrow, you thought.

"Okay. I won't push tonight, but tomorrow, we will talk about it." You affirm, giving his arm a soft squeeze. He nods as you grab his hand, lacing your fingers and dragging him into the bathroom.

"In the meantime, let's get you cleaned up."

You made him sit on the toilet seat as you reached under the sink to grab an emergency kit. You opened the kit and grabbed some alcohol and some gauze. 

"Si, you need stitches." You say, observing a muscle of his lip sticking out.

"You can do it." He assures, looking up at you. 

"Last time I checked, I don't have a medical degree." You laugh out.

"It's easy. Just need some dental floss and a needle." He reaches into the kit and grabs a needle, bending it into an arc, and a pack of dental floss. "Learned it in the military."

"You were in the military?" You question washing your hands before taking the needle and cleaning it with some alcohol to sterilize it. 

"Course I was." You smiled down at him as you wiped his lip with some alcohol.

"How long?" You ask, throwing away the cotton pad.

"Long time." He vaguely answers with a slight smile.

"You're always so vague." You roll your eyes as you step between his legs, bringing your hand up to grip under his chin, tilting it up slightly. He brought his hands to rest on the sides of your thighs, lightly massaging the fat.

You hold the sides of his lips together, carefully suturing the skin back together. You had no idea what you were doing, but Simon didn't say anything, so you assumed you were doing alright. 

Simon flinched as the needle pierced his skin, coming in and out of his lip. His eyes fell shut as you worked, occasionally twitching, his hands still kneading your thighs. 

Once you finished, you cleaned up the area, put away the kit, and threw away the needle. 

"Forgot somethin.'" Simon huffed, still sitting on the toilet seat. You raised your brow, giving him a curious look.

"What?" You question, leaning against the counter facing him, your hands on your hips.

He pressed his pointer fingers to his lip, slightly puckering them. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as you let out a laugh, walking over to him and pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I could use some more." His lips form a smirk, just beckoning you.

"Ya, I bet you could."

a/n: idk why i include an authors note bc i literally don’t say anything interesting

divider!

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[hanasnx]

up the hill

MINORS DNI 18+

"What are you watching?" The commotion on your phone had alerted your boyfriend DREW STARKEY who came into the room with innocent curiosity. You hadn't expected that he'd be interested in knowing, vaguely embarrassed as to the nature of the video contents, you smack your phone down, but your brain's disappointed that you're not viewing more.

"Nothing." you tell him with a little smile, and he collapses onto the bed next to you, scooting up behind you while you shuffle away from him.

Now he's interested because you're concealing it, chasing after you. "What? Is it porn, or something?" In a way he's not wrong and you open your mouth to reply when your speaker spills the beans.

"Keep the fucking money." the woman says on the video, and Drew's brows furrow with displeased discovery.

"Oh," He adjusts, propping himself up on his arm. "Oh, baby, I don't want you watching that."

You frown at the prospect of being denied, doubly intrigued as you face away from him and back to your phone, picking it up so the screen's visible and you can finish the video. The sounds of struggling make sense as you watch Drew— playing a character— pin an assumed-hooker to the wall by her hair. His hand looks huge when he grabs her face, forcing her to look at him as she thrashes in his grip, caging her with his body. Your eyes widen as Drew shifts closer, reaching over you to try to snatch your phone. You dodge, sitting up, eyes glued to the screen.

"Sweetheart," he says in a gentle chiding tone, "give me the phone." You tune him out, stuck on how he snickers on-screen when the girl spits in his face. When he reaches again, you jerk out of the way, watching how his biceps bulge as he slams her down on your phone. "Baby, I'm telling you, you don't wanna see this—" His hand keeps her trapped by her neck as he begins to undo his belt, and all those fuzzy feelings bubble in your belly, swallowing down the Pavlov effect of knowing what's to come when you hear that sound. Since you're distracted, Drew's able to round you, plucking your phone from your grip.

You hopelessly stretch up to grab for it. "Hey!"

Without answering you, he keeps a splayed hand between the two of you, standing at the edge of the bed, halting you as he exits out of YouTube on your phone and tosses it onto a nearby desk.

"C'mon, D, I know it was just a job." you reason with him, and he notes the way your brows upturn, how you moisten your lips, slump your shoulders. You're not just disappointed you didn't get to finish watching the scene, that gleam in your eyes tells him all he needs to know.

Curiously, he skews his feature and tilts his head at you. "Are you horny right now?"

You open your mouth to speak, registering how your thighs are rubbing together which you cease immediately and close your mouth.

An expression of muted interest blooms on his countenance, and you surge to defend yourself. "You are, aren't you?"

"No, I was just—!" You animate your hands, gesturing for him to stop.

"Baby," he scoffs, and glances at you through his brows. "C'mon." That curl to his lips is irresistible, single-handedly imploring you to tell he truth.

You sigh, throwing your head back. "Yes." you relent. "Yes, I thought it was hot."

"Baby."

"Stop! It's not my fault! It's just the way you were like," You claw at the air in frustration, forming an invisible ball with them as if you were strangling something. "manhandling her."

He tongues the inside of his cheek, his knee dropping to the mattress as he nears you, and you don't realize his closeness until he's right next to you. Taken aback, you quiet. "Sounds like you want a little taste of that yourself, huh?"

[ceilidho]

prompt: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 1.

-

“—are priced wrong. You need to fix that.”

“Hmm? Sorry?” you ask, mind snapping out of whatever fog it’d descended into upon seeing John Price’s truck pull up out front of the grocer. You blink a couple times before focusing on the older lady lined up at your till, her face pinched with displeasure. It deepens when she realizes that you haven’t been paying a lick of attention to whatever she’d just spent the better half of a minute complaining about. 

“The beefsteak tomatoes are priced wrong. They’re supposed to be two dollars a pound—it’s in the catalogue.”

Before you can so much assure her that you’ll certainly honour the advertised price and save yourself the headache, she’s already opening up her purse to pull out the crinkled grocery catalogue, unfolding it across your conveyor belt; it goes out in the local paper once a week with all the sales and rippable coupons, and this isn’t the first time you’ve had someone try to lecture you about discrepant prices (Kate, your manager, is a sweet, gungho lady, that often sends off discount confirmations to the editorial staff of the local paper without informing anyone that actually works in the shop day-to-day). 

From the corner of your eye, you see John slam the door shut on his truck and make his way towards the shop, hands shoved into his pockets. Even from a ways away, the sight of him makes your cheeks redden; his beard’s gotten fuller in the week since you last saw him, clad in even more layers of flannel and tweed now with the fast approach of winter. He looks properly ready for the winter months, with just an air of heaviness present in the lines on his forehead and the tilt of his head. 

You feel your lips slip down into a frown. Helpless, you can only watch in defeat as John lumbers into the grocery store, brushing his hand over his hat to shake off the snowflakes onto the mat by the automatic doors. He picks up one of the baskets by the front door before heading down one of the aisles. His eyes don’t flicker to meet yours so much as once. 

Your shoulders slump when he ducks out of sight before you focus your attention back on the woman in front of you. She’s pointing out the tomato print with the little two dollar sign in the advertisement with a stiff finger, eyebrow cocked like she’s pulled one over on you. You really can’t imagine there being anything less important to you than the price of beefsteak tomatoes, never mind having to refund someone a whole dollar because you inadvertently overcharged them and you happened to get stuck with the one customer that would spend a full thirty seconds reviewing their bill before leaving the shop. 

“See?” she says, the word coming out sibilant and stressed. You blink.

Turning back to the till, you click a couple buttons before the register pops back out again and you pluck up a dollar to hand back to your customer. On the receipt that’s printed out, you hastily scrawl the reason for the refund and shove the seller's copy back into the till. The woman stares at the dollar now sitting on the belt in front of her.

“Of course, ma’am,” you say, a robotic smile stretching across your face. “Apologies for the inconvenience. I’ll get someone to reprice the tomatoes so this doesn’t happen again.”

She doesn’t say anything when she snatches up the dollar along with her groceries and hobbles out the front door, the automatic doors swooshing behind her. With her finally gone, you close your eyes for a second, a private moment just to yourself.

Someone clears their throat from just off to the side. Your heart bursts into a frantic pitter-patter when you open your eyes to find John waiting patiently at the end of your till, his basket filled up with bottles of mustard, gherkins, and other preserves. 

“A paper bag, please,” he says in a gruff voice, like he tousled with sleep just a few minutes ago. It makes your head spin. 

You nod, hardly able to even respond.

Up close, he smells like firewood and smoke, the ever-present cigar usually hanging off his lip nowhere to be seen but still clinging to his jacket and flannel beneath it. The mutton chops of his beard have grown out more than the rest, but his jaw is covered in a layer of fur in comparison to the week previous. John doesn’t really make eye contact as you scan his groceries, almost too tired to raise them from the conveyor belt. Not for lack of respect—it comes off as pure exhaustion. 

You know John as the gruff, taciturn park ranger that comes in once a week to load up on steaks, cold cuts and fresh produce, but in the months you’ve lived in this town, he’s always fresh off work, a little rough around the edges and not quite fit for human interaction just yet. He just grunts and nods when you tell him his total, towers over you and never really makes much eye contact. 

It’s always non-perishables with him these days. At least for the past several weeks, as far as you know. Cans and jars and freezer-ready meals. He doesn’t strike you as much of a prepper, but his order speaks for itself. It’s one of the things you like most about your job—getting to peek into the small crack of life laid bare before you. 

“Getting ready for the winter?” you ask. 

John grunts, eyes meeting yours just briefly before dropping down again. Dark brown. Sometimes you swear you catch the faintest glimmer of gold in them, like a honey glaze, but it’s likely just a trick of the lights. 

“Gonna be a rough one.” 

You try not to shiver at the sound of his voice. It’s not often that you get to hear it; even though you moved into the house next to his almost six months ago, he spends most of his days in the mountains, working up there as a ranger. He comes home after dark nearly every day—not so hard now that the sun sets early on in the day, but even back in the summer you’d spy him coming back from his shift well after dark. 

He’s gotten more heavyset in the last couple of weeks, a comfortable weight to his midsection and arms. Beefier, more solid. When John is in front of you, it’s like no one else in the world exists at that moment; he removes them all from sight and mind. It soothes some of the worry that his constant late coming has stirred up in you, knowing that he’s fed. Not all of it though.

“You know the, uh—” you start, clearing your throat midway through, almost losing your nerve under his sudden attention at the sound of your voice, “—the butter’s twenty percent off this week. I, um…I wasn’t sure if you’d noticed.” You catch his little frown and clarify. “You usually get butter.”

“Thank you, but not this time,” he says gruffly. “Got enough of it in the freezer.”

“Oh…well…” you trail off like you’re going to say something else but you let the conversation fall flat instead. 

He’s quiet the rest of the time as you bag his groceries. John always is. There’s a hurt side of you, silently begging for more, but you’ve watched him enough around town to know that this is just what he’s like. Gruff with the other rangers on the mountain, taciturn after a long day’s work, and sweet as apple pie with the older townsfolk. You’ve seen him help people at crosswalks and more than once he’s footed someone’s grocery bill when they’ve come short. 

Maybe you’re not interesting enough to merit conversation or that same goodwill he extends to others. Not that John has ever been anything less than polite with you, but—your thoughts scatter like birds when you recite his total without thinking and watch him wordlessly as he pays. 

“Thanks, honey,” John says, eyes meeting yours again. “See you next week.” He finally manages a smile, his eyes crinkling under the weight of it. 

You could get lost in his smile if you let yourself. It comes freely but seldomly these days, kept at bay by rough days out in the woods helping lost hikers, ticketing hunters for going over their allotment, and managing the wildlife. But when he smiles, you feel the blood go hot under your cheeks and fight every vision you have of him suddenly leaning across the counter and tipping your chin up for a kiss.

Tongue-tied, you nod. You can’t even force a smile on your face, wide eyes still set on him in wonderment. He doesn’t wait around for you to find your words.

But—you think again wistfully as he turns to leave—it might be nice once in a while. For him to look at you like you’re more than a stranger. 

You mourn your chance to talk to him once he’s out the door, wishing you could call him back. It’s not his fault that just the mere sight of him leaves you tongue-tied. It folds up like a cherry stem in your mouth when he speaks to you and you haven’t yet managed to untangle it in his presence. Maybe someday. 

That’s just life though. 

He’s always made you feel nervous, like a schoolgirl with her first crush, but it’s a safe kind of crush. The kind that feels fun to indulge in because there’s no possibility of reciprocation, like you can just ogle him and pine over him without having to worry about what you’d do if he felt the same way. You mourn the loss of him when he leaves, but like a tender bruise on your knee that you sometimes press just to shy away from. 

The rest of your shift pales in comparison to the eight minutes spent in his presence. Rinse and repeat. Someone else complains about the tomatoes and you write a note for your manager to read the next day. It’ll be her fault if someone finally emails in to complain or takes it to the news; there’s always an op-ed in the papers that’s little more than a thinly veiled bad Yelp review. 

John’s car is outside his house when you make it home at the end of the day, the lights still on inside. You sit in your car and stare at the light hidden behind the curtains. 

It would be nice, you think, resting your head back against the seat, to go up and knock at his door. If only you were braver. You’d march right up, knock on his door, and offer him something to eat. You could do it too. In the six months you’ve lived here, it’s not as though you’ve ever treated him particularly neighbourly. 

You squeak when you see John pull the curtain back and peer out the window, sliding down in the front seat so he doesn’t notice you there.

Maybe some other day then.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 3

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

CW: POV depiction of dissociation, medication administered without explicit consent, mineral water, slightly altered state of consciousness (debatable), Simon Riley's Canonically Large Body

You lose time. There’s nothing for it. Everything gets flat and distant. Every now and again, you gain lucidity and catch details. The thick pile of the carpet beneath your bare feet. The belt loop you have two fingers looped into, and the fact that there are so many loops and pockets for you to choose from. Being carried for a bit until you can be deposited into a vehicle. Someone gives you pills, maybe four of them, and it takes you two gulps of water to swallow them.

An indeterminate amount of time later, you start coming back to yourself in fits and starts. It’s not a surprise when your teeth start chattering, but it does suck. All at once, every single one of your muscles file a complaint about locking up for hours and then sleeping on the floor. The room around you goes from fuzzy to nothing but sharp and loud edges in a split second. And, of course, the dehydration headache. You squeeze your eyes shut.

Something cold and wet is pressed into your hand and then guided to your mouth - a bottle of water. Your nose scrunches. Why do Europeans like mineral water? It barely tastes like water. But you drink it because you’re so thirsty it hurts.

“Slowly,” a deep voice rumbles above you.

You almost choke when you look up. The man standing over you is Simon, not the skull-faced Ghost, except that he’s neither and both. Even having had video sessions with him before, you’d assumed that most of his bulk you had seen today had been gear. Like an owl. But no, he’s really just that tall and broad. The shape of his jaw is familiar, though, just like his heavy brows and the bump in the bridge of his nose.

Without thinking, you reach out and touch his left arm. You almost expect the faded tattoos to twist away from your fingertips. Instead, Simon turns his arm so you end up caressing the inside of his elbow, skin soft and delicate and warm.

“Eyes up, Bambi,” Simon rumbles.

When you try to snatch your hand back, he catches your wrist. His hand is large and hot, and you realize all of a sudden that you’ve touched each other for the first time. His fingers are thick and blunt, and his nails are unkempt. He has a hangnail on his middle finger and scars across his knuckles.

“Eyes up,” he rumbles, again, sounding amused.

Your heart races as your eyes follow the line of his arm, the way his shirt barely fits around his bicep. The curve of his pectoral and the way his chest expands as he breathes. Your gaze gets caught on hollow of his throat and again on the thickness of his neck and the shape of his jaw. But finally, you meet his eyes.

You’ve seen a man before, you’ve seen Simon before. With his shirt off, even! There’s no reason that just meeting his eyes should make you breathless. But you can’t help it, you stop breathing as he holds your gaze.

“’Ello, beautiful,” he purrs, his other hand coming up to envelop yours around the bottle of water. You’re not a small woman, but wow, your hand feels small in his grip. “C’n you sip slowly for me?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. He’s fucking huge. Maybe it’s the shock, but he’s all you can see in that moment. (Is it subspace? No, but it damn sure feels like it.) And he’s touching you, finally. Finally. That’s insane. He’s supposed to be across an entire ocean, but he’s here and he saved you and he’s touching you. You’d do anything he wants.

“Drink,” he reminds you, and his hand stops you from pouring the whole bottle over yourself in your haste to follow his command. “Slowly, Bambi, there’s a good girl. Slow sips, two at a time. C’n you do that?”

Yeah, you think, holding eye contact as you bring the bottle back to your mouth. The mineral taste shocks you back into your body, again. Again. You drank some of this before. Someone gave you pills. Your body should hurt a lot more than it does, shouldn’t it? A knot of worry starts between your shoulder blades. And then Simon’s hand slides up your arm, coming to rest against the side of your neck. His finger tips brush over the bumps of your spine and you realize. Oh. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

“Ibuprofen?” you ask, lowering the bottle.

He hums an affirming note. “Said your back was hurtin’, so I had the paramedics give you some.”

I love you, you think, not for the first time, but you’re sipping again so you can’t embarrass yourself by saying it.

Another voice makes you jump and almost spit your water. “Bambi, aye? Where'd'ye find this bonnie girl, LT?”

You’re clinging to Simon before you know you’re moving. One arm around his lower back, the other clinging to one of his tree-trunk thighs. You’d be more embarrassed about burying your face into his side if Simon hadn’t pivoted to put himself more between you and the rest of the room. The hand on the back of your neck gives you a gentle squeeze.

“’S not really your business, is it?” Simon answers. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, Soap.”

“’M just curious,” the man called Soap says. When you peek at him, he’s is at the table of what looks like a mid sized hotel suite. You recognize the mohawk, but now that you’re not as imminently panicked, you realize how blue Soap’s eyes are. He’s casually dressed, jeans and a brown tee shirt. Very different from when you last saw him.

“Aw,” he coos when he sees you looking. “There she is.”

You take in the room so that you don’t have to see him looking at you. You’re on a little armchair between a couch and a desk. There’s a hall to the right, which you assume leads to the entrance to the suite. Another door opens into a bedroom, where you can see white sheets.

“Leave ‘er, Soap,” another voice says, and then another man, Price, the Captain, comes through that doorway with his own bottle of water. You almost don’t recognize him without his hat. Did he have all of that facial hair before? He gives you a nod and half smile before addressing Simon. “Laswell says things’ve calmed down. We have to go confirm the report. Bambi’s free to go back to the hotel if she wants.”

“Not likely,” Simon scoffs before you can protest. “She can stay ‘ere.”

“She’ll need her stuff,” Price points out. “Want to send the boys to collect it?”

Three fingers tap the back of your neck. You’d always wondered if that signal that he’s taking a moment to think was just for kink scenes. It’s comforting to realize that maybe it isn’t. Simon is a man who stops to think, and maybe so is this Ghost.

“’Ll go get ‘em,” Simon says, after a minute. “Got some other things to grab while ‘m out.”

Out? “Out?”

He looks down at you with another squeeze to the back of your neck. “Out. Cap and I got to check in, ‘n I’ll get y’r stuff. Figured you’d prefer not to go back.”

“Don’t leave me.” The words are out before you can bite it back. You blanch and pull away from him. Well, you try, wrapping your arms around yourself instead of him, but he still has a hand cupping the base of your skull. “I mean- That’s- I know it’s your job. I can- I’ll be okay going back to my hotel. Or staying here? God, you probably have a lot to do, I should-”

“Drink,” Simon interrupts, putting the water bottle you’d lost track of back into your hand. “Finish this. Slow sips, two at a time. Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged,” you answer, automatically, as you lift the bottle to your lips. “Slow, two sips at a time. All of it.”

“Good girl.” He folds down into a crouch in front of you. You take an extra sip in self defense, because wow that’s a lot of man. There’s a whole other, third person that you hadn’t been able to see around him, sitting at the table with Soap. But Simon’s staring into your eyes, so you can’t get more than an impression of the room around you before you’re caught in his orbit again. “Y’r staying here with me. ’M not takin’ you back to the other hotel. ‘M gonna get your stuff. You unpacked, yeah?”

You nod, looking down at your hands so you can concentrate on what he’s saying instead of the urge to kiss the the scars on his cheek.

“Don’t want anyone else going through your things,” he says. “So ‘m gonna get all ‘f it. ‘Nd then I’ll come back with food. Y’re gonna give me your keycard, finish the water, ‘n watch somethin’ easy on the TV while you do your stretches. Acknowledge.”

“Key card, water, TV and yoga,” you say, chancing a glance back at his face. Bad idea. You fumble the key card from your pocket, surprised you still have it, and hand it over. The way his eyes crinkle with his smile makes you want to slide down into the space between his thighs to hide from the rest of the world. “Acknowledged. But-” You chew your lip. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Soap ‘n Gaz’ll stay with you. You don’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to. Hold up four fingers and they’ll leave you alone. Show me.” His big hand rubs your knee when you comply. “This is the last thing ‘ve got to do for work. When I come back, it’s just me ‘n you. Green?”

“Super green.” Someone snorts a laugh, but you ignore it. “You’ll come back?”

“’M comin’ back. Don’t want to leave.” His hand slides up the outside of your thigh, until he’s gripping your hip. You’re dizzy with a sudden flush of warmth when he leans in to whisper. “The next time I have you in my arms, ‘m not letting go for a long time.”

Yep, you need the water. “TV and stretches,” you squeak. “Acknowledged.”

“That’s my girl,” he rumbles. He stands, glancing his lips against your forehead as he does. “Gonna give you a reward for bein’ so good today. Tell one of the boys what you want to eat, ‘ll bring it on the way back.”

[trippinsorrows]

give me a reason + two

authors note: wow! so humbled by people's interest in this one! forgot to mention that i'll be playing around with joe's career, in terms of the timeline and whatnot.

also, if ya'll ever watched the bernie mac show, i was very much inspired in one section by that scene where vanessa and them was doing that car wash at bernie's house lmaooo

in addition (last point, i swear lmao), i can do faceclaims for the character, mainly mariella's family. if ya'll want. i know some people prefer to visualize for themselves. just lmk.

i don't own any lyrics used.

previous chapter

words: 7k

song inspo: just give me a reason by p!nk and nate ruess

warnings: language, fluff, some angst, blink and you'll miss it sexy time.

Spring, 2005

Spring break.

The time looked forward to by most students, especially college students, who are granted a free week to get into all kinds of trouble, mischief and then return to campus like nothing ever happened. 

Joe and Byron can’t deny that they’ve definitely had their fair share of that the first part of college, but now with two years under their belts and only two years left to go, they’re focused on having killer seasons and landing their dreams of going into the NFL.

It’s why when coach decides to give the players a break, canceling all practices during said break, there’s not even an initial question about what they should do with their time.

Home.

They’re going home.

Because while being away is nice at times, there’s absolutely no place like home and being surrounded by the people you love the most.

Byron glances at Joe who’s looking down at his phone. “You gonna see Brianna while we in town?”

Joe looks up. He can’t say he hasn’t thought about it. Brianna, Joe’s last high school girlfriend, was inarguably the easiest of all the girls he’s ever dated. And if not for him not wanting to be tied down while away at college, he would have tried to make it work. 

“I don’t know,” he answers, truthfully. “We’ll see.”

“Well, I’m definitely hitting up Tamia. Heard she and ole’ dude broke up.”

Joe shakes his head. Tamia has been Byron’s on and off girlfriend since freaking middle school. They date, break up, date other people, break up with said other people and start right back over. Truthfully, Joe can see Tamia being the one for Byron considering how long they’ve been in this little cycle. 

“Just make sure you’re safe, man.”

Byron looks like he’s just been told to make sure he wears a seatbelt. “Always, bro. You know me.”

Joe knows him alright. Knows he can be reckless at times. And with so much at stake in the next upcoming two years, they can’t afford to be reckless. 

“I do. That’s why I’m saying it.”

“Man….” Joe laughs at Byron’s dismissal. “What do we have here?” Joe turns his attention to where Byron has set his gaze only to quickly scowl with disgust. “Ugh, they in high school.”

Joe is also instantly repulsed. “That’s fucking gross.” 

Byron shakes in his seat, as if trying to shake the disgust off himself when he sees something. “Wait a minute…” Joe again tries to see what’s triggered the exclamation of irritation. “Oh hell no.”

“What are you—what the hell!” Joe shouts out as Byron suddenly swerves into the next turn lane, barely missing hitting a car. “The fuck are you doing, man!”

“That’s Ella out there!” He answers, speeding near the station where a bunch of high school girls are operating a car wash, trying to raise money for who knows what. 

At the mention of Ri, Joe’s attention is snatched. “What?” He’s looking around as Byron looks to quickly park the truck, clearly eager to get out. Joe doesn’t see her just yet. It’s not until they’re parked and out of the car that his eyes land on her.

Her smile is the first thing he notices. She’s laughing. Not surprising. For as long as he’s known her, which has been his whole life essentially, she’s always the one in the group to make everyone laugh.

Usually from her klutziness. 

It’s never a dull moment with Mariella Holmes. 

Moving closer, he can see that it’s definitely Ri, and she’s giggling along with the other girls, dancing to what he recognizes is Black Eyed Peas latest song, “My Humps.”

It’s that realization that helps Joe understand why Byron is so annoyed.

The dancing could be seen as a bit provocative.

“Ella!”

Her head snaps up at Byron’s voice, easily landing on him. Joe watches her mouth drop open in shock before she shouts, “BJ!”

Dropping the soapy rag in the bucket, she’s nearly sprinting over to the two of them, tackling Byron with a hug first. “What are you doing here?”

It’s when she steps back that she moves over to him. She smirks, crossing her arms. “Should have known you wouldn’t turn down a chance to come see me.”

Joe laughs, pulling her in for a hug. “Never.”

“What am I doing here?” Byron cuts in, angrily gesturing to her. “What are you doing out here dressed like this?”

She looks down at her outfit, frowning. Joe does the same. It’s a bathing suit top with jean shorts and flip flops. What’s so bad about that?

And she expresses as such.

“Ummm, the dance team is having a car wash. We’re trying to raise money for travel costs this season.”

This doesn’t seem acceptable to Byron as he asks, “well, you ain’t having nothing else to wear? All exposed and everything.”

That’s when she rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, you’re so annoying.” 

He starts to pull his shirt off when even Joe chimes in, “dude, come on.”

“She’s half naked!”

“I’m wearing a bathing suit, BJ.” Mariella says it like he’s slow. Like he was on the short bus. “I know you’ve been away at school, so you haven’t been around as much, but I have boobs now—”

At that, both Joe and Byron turn up their nose. The last thing they need is that type of visual.

She continues, gesturing to her body. “I hit puberty, and allll the areas started filling out. It happens!”

“I’m gonna be sick.” Byron covers his mouth. “I don’t give a damn. You’re sixteen, not twenty-one.”

She gives a sly smile. “That’s not what my fake ID says.”

Joe catches her gaze, seeing that she’s just messing with him. It makes him laugh. 

“Your what? Girl, you done lost your damn mind.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Relax, BJ. You know I can’t get a fake ID. My dumbass would feel too bad and turn myself in.”

“That’s true,” Joe chimes, and she glares, reaching over to hit him. She starts to say something, only for her eyes to go wide. “What’s wrong?”

She says nothing, just awkwardly shifting her weight from one leg to another. He starts to ask again when a new voice joins the conversation. 

“Hey, babe.”

Byron jumps to a new level of annoyance. “Babe?” He and Joe watch as some scrawny looking little boy, who’s really not that scrawny in actuality but looks it compared to Byron and Joe, walks up to Mariella, kissing her. 

Byron looks like he’s about to have a stroke. He asks with all the smoke. “Who the hell are you?” 

Scrawny scoffs and has the audacity to throw the question back at him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Oh my god.” Mariella murmurs, slapping her hand against her forehead. “BJ, this is my boyfriend, Derrick—”

Mariella having a boyfriend makes sense to Joe. She’s 16 now. Why wouldn’t she be dating? It’s normal and expected. 

If only Byron saw it that way. “Boyfriend? Since when do you have a boy—”

“Derrick, this is my brother, BJ or Byron, and basically like my non-blood brother, Joe.”

Scrawny AKA Derrick looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Oh shit, my bad—”

If only he knew that Byron doesn’t forgive nor does he forget when it comes to his little sisters, especially Mariella. 

He steps toward the shorter young man. “Naw. You bad. You wanted to know who the hell I was, so let me tell you, I’m the nigga that’s gon fuck you up if you ever—”

“Byron!” Mariella is now fuming, grabbing him by his arm as she tugs him in a different direction. “Give us a couple minutes.” She flashes a sweet smile at Derrick and a pleading expression to Joe for him to also be nice.

Joe waits until they’re out of hearing distance. He then slaps Derrick on the arm. “Don’t take it personally. That’s just Byron. He’s always been a hothead.”

Derrick gives a nervous laugh, showing off braces that Joe didn’t notice before. He refrains from frowning. Ri could definitely do better than this dweeb. “You like Ri?”

Derrick shrugs, offering an unimpressive. “She’s alright.”

And that’s all Joe needs to hear to know what this kid is really about. Stepping toward him, he keeps his voice leveled and expression ice cold. “Do anything to hurt her, and you won’t have to worry about Byron.” He gives a steel smile. “I’m the one you’ll never see coming.”

———-

Present 

Post-traumatic amnesia (PTA) 

Or some milder form of it. 

Amnesia, at the very least.

That’s what Dr. Reynolds says is the cause of Mari’s complete loss of memory. A result of the head trauma she received from the accident. A prognosis that somehow feels almost worse than the coma, at least to Joe.

Because for the life of him, he doesn’t know how to look at the woman he’s known his entire life, and have her look back at him like he’s a stranger, like she has no idea who he is. 

Because she doesn’t have any idea who he is.

As devastating as that blow is, he knows it hits harder for her parents. April nearly collapsed in Byron Sr’s arms as Dr. Reynolds informed them of Mari’s memory loss.

She was in tears, desperately asking, “but—but she’ll get them back, right, doctor?”

And Joe only has to glance at the doctor, the way his lips press together before he informs sympathetically, “we don’t know. Some patients do eventually retrieve their memories. Others….others never do.”

Joe can’t even allow himself to think of the latter option. 

A couple days post coma, he knocks on her door, seeing she’s alone, her parents most likely grabbing food or something.

She glances at the door offering a small smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. It’s insincere, and he doesn’t know how to feel about that either, because one of the things he’s always loved about her has always been her smile. So big and infectious. Just like her personality. 

“Hey.” There’s nothing big and infectious about her almost unsure tone. 

“Hey.” He doesn’t wait for her to welcome him in, just walks in, taking the seat on the side of her bed. “How you feeling?”

She gives a one sided shrug. He notices the cuts and bruising on her face have gone down tremendously. That's a plus in a situation full of minuses. “Don’t know.” After obviously thinking about the question more, she offers a more descriptive answer. “Very...confused.”

“About?” He then adds. “Maybe I can clear it up for you.”

“I don’t know. It’s….it’s mostly about who I am.” He could definitely answer that one for her. She shakes her head, providing an example. “Like, I’m apparently this big singer, but I can’t even think about singing right now. It doesn’t—it doesn’t even feel like me.” She chuckles bitterly. “Not that I know who me is.”

“You love music. Always have. And you’re good at it. Singing. Writing. Producing. Dancing. All of it.” She looks over at him as he says with all the honesty and sincerity, “there’s nothing, creatively, you can’t do.”

Mariella nods, as if taking in the information to analyze later on. “What about you?” She asks. “What do you do?”

A lot of things. A lot of things he now regrets deeply. But, that’s not her question. “Professional wrestler.” He starts to say WWE to see if she knows what that is, but that isn’t important. Shit about him isn’t the priority. 

Mariella looks him over, nodding. “It fits.”

He smiles a bit. The first he’s done in weeks. “What else do you want to know?”

She’s quiet for a few moments before asking the question he didn’t know he was dreading until now. “How did I end up here?”

What a loaded question he was absolutely not prepared for.

There’s a lot of things that led them to where they are right now. A lot of which he blames himself for, and her as well, but not nearly as much as he blames himself. They both played a role in how badly their relationship deteriorated, but Joe puts the bulk of it on himself. 

He’s older and should know better.

But, the specific incident that resulted in her accident, the blowout that ended with her requesting the one thing she always swore she never wanted to have happened when they got married…that’s it.

That is the truth she is probably looking for. It’s a truth, however, he can’t find it in him to tell her.

Because selfishly, he doesn’t want that to be the thing to trigger her memories, or any memories of all the things that have gone so terribly wrong the past two years. He doesn’t want that for her.

Doesn’t want it for them.

It’s why he settles on an answer that’s neither a lie but also not the full truth.

“You had a lot on your mind and went for a drive.” His voice shifts into something quiet. He’s still trying to process his feelings about that part of this whole thing. “You were hit head on by a drunk driver.”

Silence.

For a brief second, he’s unsure if he should have just told the truth. Been honest with her and let the cards fall as they may.

And then she speaks.

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” He looks up. Joe sees it. That sense of humor that some could only take in doses, but for him, it’s always been a highlight. She’s always been able to put a smile on his face even in the darkest of his days. “How long have we been married?”

Another unexpected question, but he answers truthfully. “This March makes 11 years.”

“Wow.” This seems to take her by surprise. “And how long have we been together?”

“That….that’s a bit of a long story.”

She lifts her brow, gesturing to her hospital bed. “Not like I have anywhere to be.”

He chuckles. She has a point, but the story of them…that seems too complicated or detailed to share in a freaking hospital. Because in his mind, he’s started to sort the different ways and things he can do to help remind her of who she is. 

Of who they were. 

Finally, he answers, “I just—I think you should—” 

There’s a knock on the door, Joe turning to see April and Byron Sr.

April is the first to speak, walking over to them. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She’s almost hesitant to move too close. Joe can see she wants nothing more to engulf her youngest in a hug but recognizes the same almost uncomfortable expression Mariella wore the minute he walked in.

“It’s okay.” He assures, going to stand up. “I’ll leave you guys—”

“Actually,” Byron Sr. interjects, shooting Joe a sympathetic expression. “We were hoping to speak with you.” He looks toward Mariella, and Joe hates it. Hates the almost discomfort that exists between them. She’s always been super close with her parents. Especially her dad. “If that’s alright, sweetheart?”

Mariella shrugs, clearly unbothered. “Sure.” She starts to lay back in her bed a little. “I’m kinda tired anyway.”

Joe wonders how much of that is truth, and how much of it is her just wanting to be alone from people who are virtual strangers.

Strangers…

That’s definitely a word he never thought could be used in any context regarding Mariella.

Once outside the room and in the private waiting area, her parents wait until a set of nurses pass before April is the first to speak. She reaches over and places a comforting hand. “How are you doing, Joe? Really?”

A mess. He’s a fucking mess. Joe has seen much, much better days than the past few weeks. But, he also doesn’t want to make this about him, about his mental state, so he provides a half truth.

“Been better.” His response is gruff as he quickly moves to change topics. “What about you guys?”

Having his wife have no idea who he is is brutal, but he can’t even begin to imagine what it’s been like for two parents to not have their youngest child recognize them, to have no idea who they are.

Byron Sr. is the first to answer, mirroring his son-in-law’s words. “Been better.” 

April shifts in her seat, bringing her hand back to her lap. “We umm—we spoke to Dr. Reynolds earlier today.”

Joe looks up, partially wondering why he wasn’t present for that meeting. “Okay.”

“She doesn’t remember anything, Joe. Not her childhood. Not her family. Not…not even us.” April voice breaks at the end of her statement as Joe looks away. Hearing this again isn’t exactly helpful, though he would never disrespect her parents by asking them to shut up. Even if it’s what he wants. “And we—well, we just think—”

Byron Sr. cuts in, hand on his wife’s knee. “We want to take her back home with us, Joe.” Joe’s stomach drops. “We want to take her back to Florida.”

———-

Spring, 2022

Cameras.

That’s the one thing Mariella, Mari, still struggles to get used to. The bright lights flashing in her face as her photo is taken, whether on the red carpet, on the stage, or even when she’s just making a run to the grocery store. The latter one hasn’t happened as much as it used to, for which she’s grateful, but still.

So there’s a bit of an adjustment as she looks around the room, the hair and makeup team touching up her face once more before they kick off the segment.

She doesn’t regret it. Doesn’t regret it at all. It’s a good look for him. For her too. And beyond any type of benefit for their careers, she’s just happy she gets to see him.

Because that’s the part she doesn’t think she’ll ever truly get over or be okay with.

The distance.

As directed, she walks down the hall, making sure not to look directly into the camera. This is made infinitely easier by pretending she’s shooting a music video. Which, truth be told, it isn’t very different. 

Mari wears the confused expression perfectly, looking down at her phone as if it has information that could help her when she ‘accidentally’ walks into him.

Head up, she gasps and immediately gets to apologizing, just as was in the script. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I wasn’t even looking where I was going.”

His eyes widen as he ‘realizes’ who she is. “Wow. No, you are absolutely fine. Wow. You’re Mari!”

Smiling, she points at him, “and you are…..”

He seems a bit taken back at first, like he’s waiting for her to also recognize him. When that doesn’t happen, he offers his hand. “Sami Zayn. Master strategist and locker room leader.”

She nods, perfectly conveying another confused look at just what that means. “Does—does that mean you’re good with directions? Cause I suck at them.”

“It absolutely does, and you are in luck, because I just so happen to be free right now and would love to give you a tour.”

She opens her mouth to protest, “oh, that’s so sweet, but I really should—” she looks down at her phone. “You know what, I’m a little early, so why not?”

“Awesome.” He claps his hands together and offers his arm. Mari smiles and links hers in his as he starts leading them down the hall, pointing out the most obvious of things. 

The camera cuts, and she engages in conversation with Sami, who’s actually a lot like the ‘character’ he plays. Super charismatic and engaging. Kinda reminds her of herself. So much so that before she realizes, they’re back to recording after having moved across the arena. 

“And lastly we have—” His eyes suddenly widen as he realizes where they are, Sami moving his hand to her back as he directs them in the opposite direction. “Wait, we do not want to go—”

“There it is!” Mari, however, is smiling brightly as she walks toward the door.

Sami looks like he’s about to have a panic attack, frantically warning, “Mari, I know you’re like an international mega star, but trust me, you do not want to bother that man—” He’s silenced by her knocking on the door. 

His face is turning red as he urgently whispers to her, “we should really get out of here. Like right now!.”

She turns to him, confused. “Why?”

And before Sami can respond, the door is ripped open, the scowling faces of the Usos the first thing Sami lands on. He’s preparing to get chewed out only for them to look at Mari and instantly start smiling.

“Whassup, Mari!” Jimmy is the first to greet her, pulling her in for a hug. Followed by Jey, the two of them engaging in some secret handshake that ends with a ‘Yeet’.

Sami, however, laughs nervously, gesturing between the three. “Wait, you—you guys know Mari?”

Jimmy answers, slinging his arm around her. “Man, of course. This family!”

“You’re related to them?” Sami asks, eyes wide. 

Mari opens her mouth to answer when another person emerges from the private locker room, taking up almost the entire door frame, face stoic and eyes cold. 

Sami looks like he’s about to piss himself. He swallows. “My Tribal Chief, I’m so sorry—”

He’s interrupted by Mari who smiles and pulls away from Jimmy to walk up to Roman.“Hi, baby.” Sami looks on stunned as she leans up and kisses his cheek, pressing her body into his, hand on his abs. “Sorry, I’m a bit late.” She grins over at Sami. “Sami was giving me a tour of the place.”

The reddening of his cheeks is about what and what with the red of his hair. “I don’t—I’m not—”

Playfully rolling her eyes as Roman continues to look like he’s contemplating murder, she lifts her left hand, showing off a beautiful diamond ring. “Roman’s my husband.”

Mouth open like a child who just found out Santa isn’t real, Sami does his best to reel in his surprise. “Of course, you’re married. I totally knew that!” He laughs nervously, hands on his hips. “That’s why I gladly brought you to the Tribal Chief myself. Wanted to ensure nothing but the best for the Bloodline’s first lady.”

“That was really sweet of you. Thank you.” She continues to smile, and Roman continues to send daggers with just one, stolid expression. Mari peers up, kissing him again as she reaches for his hand. “Come on.” She tugs him toward the inside of the locker room, Roman finally budging as he gives Sami one last look that has the redhead contemplating requesting a switch to Raw. 

However, as Jimmy and Jey go to follow along with their cousin, Roman is quick to slam the door in their faces. 

“Hey, Uce, uhhh,—” Jimmy tries to jangle the knob only to realize it’s locked. He starts knocking. “Roman! Hey, you gon let us in?”

A couple seconds later the door does open, but it’s Solo, followed by Paul Heyman. Wise Man closes the door behind him. He looks around, briefly bewildered and clears his throat, announcing, “The Tribal Chief has requested to be left alone this evening.” 

Sami is the only one to laugh, playfully shoving Solo and pointing to the locker room. “I bet he has.” Solo, however, also looks like he’s also contemplating murder. Sami coughs awkwardly and turns to walk away, just as the camera crew announces ‘cut’.

The remaining men share laughs about the promo, meanwhile inside the locker room Mariella relishes in the feel of being reunited with her husband in real life, and now in the WWE kayfabe verse.

She’s pressed against his body, arms around his neck with his locked around her waist, holding her to him. “Hey, Big Daddy.”

Roman, Joe, rolls his eyes. Mariella giggles. She knows he has such a love/hate relationship with the term of endearment, one of many she has for the massive man before her. “You miss me?”

He makes a sound, leaning down to connect their lips. “Always, baby.” 

She smiles into their kiss, “good answer.” His big hands venture down to squeeze her ass, Mariella moaning into his mouth which triggers something for him. He lifts her up, her legs locking around his waist as he goes to sit back down in the big leather chair. Joe’s tongue entering her mouth is enough to elicit another moan but also alert her to the fact of where he wants to take this.

“Baby, we cannot do the nasty at your job.”

“I don’t know why you still call it that.” His fake irritation makes her giggle. It’s an inside joke between them that she’ll never let die so long as she lives. “And who says we can’t?”

“I don’t know. The FCC?” He rolls his eyes as she grasps at his beard that she can tell he dyed recently. Most likely because of his job. She wishes he could leave it be. She likes the gray. It does….things to her. “Besides, you know the deal. If we do it right now, we can’t do it tonight.” He continues to move his hands across her ass. “Mama’s got a show this Sunday, and I’d rather not be rendered immobile because my husband impaled me on his big ole’ dick.”

Again, Joe rolls his eyes, even though there’s more truth to her statement than the typical playful jokes she cracks at any given time. Joe has a high sex drive. She’s known this for some years. Mariella, however, does not. And it’s not even that she doesn’t enjoy sex with her husband. It’s that her husband doesn’t know how to stop, doesn’t know how to come, make her come one time for the one time, and just be done with it.

No. This man wants rounds. And truthfully, she just doesn’t have the stamina to keep up with him. Outside of porn stars, she doesn’t know who would.

Man is an absolute beast.

“So damn dramatic,” he chuckles against her neck. “You know I be doing most of the work anyway.”

She opens her mouth to protest. “Okay, that may or may not be true.” She can feel him smiling against her. It’s not like he minds. Joe is dominant in the sheets, wanting to be in control at all times. Her preference given he’s much more well versed in the sexual arts than she is. “But, in my defense, you’re built like a Greek god.” A Samoan god. “I get winded walking up the staircase in our house.”

“Bullshit.” He pulls back, pointing out. “You be on that stage dancing your ass off for damn near three hours.” 

She rolls her eyes, murmuring, “okay, that also may or may not be true.” Mari’s eyes flutter as he moves his hand under her dress. Long, thick fingers easily pushing aside her underwear, feeling the pool of her arousal. She squeezes his shoulders. “Joe….”

He grunts almost, gliding his fingers across her wet folds. She exhales sharply. “You this wet already and really want me to think you don’t want Big Daddy to fuck this tight lil’ pussy?”

Whining against him, Mariella unconsciously tries to move around on his lap to get his fingers back on her. In her, preferably. And it’s when he enters one of those deliciously talented fingers inside of her gushy opening, she caves. “Fine.” He smirks as she warns, “but you’re pushing me around in the wheelchair after!”

———-

Between a rock and a hard place.

That’s how Joe has felt the past few weeks, maybe even longer. But especially now.

He knows Ri’s parents are right. That they have every right to want her to spend time at home with them, in the place where she grew up, where most of her formative years and subsequent formative memories lie. Logically, it makes sense.

But, he can’t seem to get past his discomfort at the fact that Ri won’t be getting discharged and coming home with him. No, she’ll be discharged and hop on a plane with them back to Florida. Selfishly, he was hoping the doctor wouldn’t clear her to fly, but that plan went out the window. Dr. Reynolds is clearly on the same page with her parents about the potential benefit of being around constant triggers. Triggers that could help generate memories.

And Joe isn’t against that. At all. 

It’s just the fact that he won’t be there that rubs him the right way. 

“Joe.”

His eyes shut, an instant headache coming on. This is the last thing he needs.��

Turning around, he’s met with Olivia “Liv” Holmes default stare of icy indifference. Out of all of Mariella’s siblings, her family in general, Liv has always been his least favorite.

For a lot of different reasons. The main one being how she always treated Mariella when they were younger. Not mean, per se. But not kindly either. She always acted like Mariella was annoying, and she definitely could be at times, but not to the extent that Liv made it seem.

Like Mariella was just this big nuisance. It’s part of the reason she always wanted to hang out with him and Byron when they were growing up, because Liv spent most of her time with her twin sister, Everly, and her own friend group.

“Liv.” He really doesn’t feel like talking to anyone, let alone her. Their interactions have always been brief and limited to what is essential. For good reason too.

“I take it my parents told you we’re taking Ella back home to Florida with us.”

Joe has to bite back a smartass comment. Liv’s smirk and the almost smug tone of her voice isn’t what he needs right now.

“Yes.” He matches her energy a bit, reminding. “For the first couple weeks, at least. Then I’m going to bring her back home with me.” 

Where she belongs.

Liv smiles, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “We’ll see.”

Joe gives her a look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know she called me.” He freezes. “The night of the accident.” Joe manages to keep a calm face despite his surprise at her words. Mariella has never been close with Liv, most of their communication occurring via texts and family group chats. 

There’s only one reason she would call her sister who happens to be a divorce attorney.

“I want a divorce.”

Liv continuing to speak is ironically appreciated, as it pulls him from the memories of what is now an infamous argument. “I was sleeping and missed her call, but she didn’t leave a message. Kinda wishing she did, because I’m still trying to figure out just what the hell she was doing out on the road that late at night.” 

He keeps his cool. Somehow. “I already told you—”

“I know what you said, Joe.” Her interruption is sharp. “I also don’t believe you, because what the hell could she have so heavy on her mind after winning 5 Grammys?” She crosses her arms. “It doesn’t make sense.”

When he doesn’t say anything, she continues her accusatory assault. “You seem to forget that we were in high school together, Joe. I know how you were.” At this, he can’t say anything, can’t necessarily defend himself against truth. “You and Byron fucked damn near half the girls in our school, probably at college too, and then all of a sudden you turn in your hoe card to be with my baby sister? Because you love her? I never bought that shit for a minute.”

While he can’t deny his promiscuous past, Joe isn’t about to stand here and let this woman act like he’s this horrible person who took advantage of Mariella. “What’s your point, Liv? Huh? I’m not fucking stupid. I know you never approved of me being with Ri, but just like I didn’t give a fuck then, I still don’t give a fuck now.”

Liv does relatively well hiding her disapproval among her family, to some extent. But Joe has always been hip to her truth. She thinks Mariella should have gotten with someone else, anyone else probably. Anyone who wasn’t him.

Liv, who has never done well with being challenged, steps forward, glare intense and purposeful. “I’m gonna find out what happened that night, Joe. Because I know there’s something you’re not telling us.” He keeps up his unreadable expression, though there’s a small chunk of guilt swimming around the back of his head. Not even about not being completely honest with Mariella’s family.

More about not being honest with her.

She lowers her voice. “And when I do find out—”

“Liv.”

Joe and Liv turn to see Byron Jr. standing before them with a disappointed expression.

Arms crossed, he steps toward them, focused more on Liv than Joe. “Don’t be starting no shit today, alright? This the last thing we need.”

In recent years, especially since becoming a father, BJ has matured from his hotheaded days, often even a voice of reason. One of the reasons he’s been voted Locker Room captain for his team, the 49ers, 3 years in a row.

Liv rolls her eyes. “You’ve always been blinded by your friendship with him—”

“Hey.” Byron raises his voice a bit. “I mean it. You blaming people doesn’t change what happened, and you know damn well Ella would have a fit at you coming at Joe like this.”

Not really. Maybe before. Before everything collapsed so tragically between the two of them.

“Whatever.” She gives a final almost warning glare to the two of them before stalking off, probably to go see Mariella.

BJ places a comforting hand on Joe’s shoulder once she’s gone. “You good, man?” 

Not at all. “Yeah.” He clears his throat. 

BJ gives a sad smile. “Don’t let Olevil get to you.” Her nickname from back when they were in high school makes Joe chuckle. “You going back to work next week?”

Joe blows out a breath. That hasn’t even crossed his mind the past couple weeks. He doesn’t even really know what storyline they came up with to cover his absence. Nor does he care really. “I haven’t even thought about that, man.”

“I think you should.” And before Joe can protest, Byron lifts his hand. “Hear me out. She’s gonna be with our parents for a few weeks, so you know she’ll be in good hands. What you gon’ do while she’s gone? Sit around the house sad and moping and shit? You know she would be chewing you out for that, telling you that you gotta get back in the game.”

Joe gives a bit of a smile. Byron is right. Knowing Mariella, she’d have a whole theatrical ass presentation as to why he should return to work, song and dance included. 

“Yeah…”

Byron slaps him on his shoulder. “Just think about it, alright?” 

Joe nods, because he will. And not for himself, not even for his job, because he doesn’t give a fuck about that right now.

But for Mariella.

His Ri. 

Because she’ll always be his Ri.

And he’s determined to make sure she doesn’t forget it this time.

———-

Spring, 2022 [cont.]

“Baby!” It’s a distant voice that becomes closer as it's repeatedly conjoined with a small hand shaking at his shoulder. “Baby, wake up.”

And he does. Eyes fluttering open, his vision is blurred initially, gradually clearing up to reveal the face of his beautiful wife. Cognizant of his surroundings, Joe realizes she’s sitting on top of him, notebook and pen in hand.

He smiles. It’s been a while since she’s woken him up for this. And while he’ll regret it in the morning, he’s grateful for it now. Grateful for these little callbacks to when they were broke, living in a crappy apartment, trying to chase the dream as inspiration struck her at all hours of the night. And she would wake him up, wanting his feedback. 

He didn’t really mind then. 

And he doesn’t really mind now.

That’s just his Ri.

Eyes squinting, she asks, “you up?”

He chuckles, also enjoying the sight of her straddling him wearing only his shirt. “Yes, baby. I’m up.”

“About time,” she complains, and he rolls his eyes. So damn dramatic. “I’m feeling inspired.” She says it while giving almost jazz hands, pretty brown eyes landing back on him. “Wanna hear the lyrics?”

He yawns, glancing at the digital clock that reads 2:37AM. “What else would I be doing at this time?”

She glares. “Is that sarcasm I detect, mister? Is it my fault my musical muse comes alive at night? That she flourishes when most—”

“Ri.”

“Huh?”

He closes his eyes. Joe loves Mariella with everything in him, but he’s not in the mood for one of her theatrical tangents at damn near 3 o’clock in the morning. “Lyrics.”

“Oh! Right!” Chuckling, he watches as she reads over whatever she’s written to herself at first. A bit of a habit. She’s always initially self-conscious about her lyrics. “Now, it’s just off the top of my head, so be nice, okay?”

“I’m always nice to you, Ri.” It’s the truth. As annoyed as he can get sometimes, she’s never been on that list. “And I’m sure it’s fine.” 

She smiles appreciatively, slightly taking him by surprise as she quietly sings the lyrics versus just reading them to him.

Yellow diamonds in the light

Now we're standing side by side

As your shadow crosses mine

What it takes to come alive

It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny

But I've gotta let it go

We found love in a hopeless place

Finished, she looks down at him, expectantly, “well?”

“I love it.” He loves most of what she writes though. He especially loves to hear her sing. “What inspired it?”

“I don’t know. I was just thinking about us. About how far we come.” She shrugs, his hands rubbing circles on her hips. “Your show was sold out tonight, Joe. Mine is sold out too. Like, we both sold out Madison Square Garden. That feels almost too perfect to be true.”

He makes a sound. “But, it is, baby.”

“I know.” She sighs heavily and asks in a partial hypothetical tone. “We’re like really hot shit, huh?” Joe chuckles as she gasps and places her tablet down on his chest, quickly writing something down. He says nothing, having been with her for so long that none of her quirky ways really surprise him anymore.

“Also.”

“Also?”

She glares but moves to place the notebook and pen on the nightstand, resting her hands on his chest. “I was thinking about our conversation earlier…” He’s quiet, waiting patiently for her to finish her sentence even if it does have him a bit on edge. He’s never been good with waiting. “Let’s do it.”

Her answer takes him by surprise. “You sure?”

She nods, tugging at his beard. “We’re not getting any younger.” She giggles, eyes playfully narrowing. “Especially you, old man.” 

At that, he sucks his teeth. “Who you calling old?” He squeezes her side, and she squeals. He knows that’s where she’s ticklish. She falls out, laughing, and he takes the advantage of her being distracted to flip them so she’s flat on her back. “Naw, say it again. I ain’t hear you.”

“Joe, stop,” she giggles as he hovers over her, tickling her until she pushes back against his shoulder. He grabs her hand, restricting her when she opens her eyes. Her laughter quietly dies down when their eyes lock. 

Love. 

So much love.

Joe leans down and connects their lips, softly, slowly, just as meaningful as any other kiss they’ve shared. She moans into his mouth, feeling his hardened length graze against her opening, her essence already making its way down her inner thighs.

He feels this too, groaning and lifting her thigh to widen her as he carefully enters her, watching her arch her back at the entrance. She whimpers, hands moving around his shoulders.

He kisses her wrist, watching the pleasure on her face as he gives her deep strokes, slow and plunging, just how he knows she likes it. “Shhhh….let me take care of you, baby.”

And he does.

He always has.

He always will.

[jiyansthesis]

HEAD SO GOOD SHE HONOR ROLL

summary ー gallagher wasn't stupidー no matter what secret you were trying to keep from him, he was always going to find out.

note ー yeayea ik i have reqs to get to but gallagher has been on mind all damn day and i need him TO LEAVE!! might be ooc tbh but he's not even released yet sooo i DO WHAT I WANT!!! || this is fem reader!! + i lowkey hate this

w/c ー 2.4k

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION | NOT PROOFREAD

"d'ya want this drink or not, doll?" gallagher held a glass in front of your face, light pink liquid sloshing over the edges. "you've been out of it lately."

"i've been perfectly fine." you rolled your eyes, snatching the drink away from him before he made the puddle on the counter larger.

alrightー maybe he was catching on. this was one of the few days where you had gallagher all to yourselfー and you were definitely enjoying it. could anyone really blame you for eyeing the way his buttons could barely hold his shirt together over his chest, how he towered over you, or the way he'd open a can with one finger? every single thing about him had you going rabid internally, but one thing in particular had stuck with you and ravaged your thoughts.

his hands.

they were always covered with glovesー mismatchedー and you'd be lying if you said they didn't distract you every time they were in your line of sight. you hadn't told him about your infatuation with them, knowing that he would make fun of you and tease you any chance he gets. so you decided that you'd keep it your little secret for your sake.

gallagher gave you a knowing glance as you took a sip of the concoction he made for you. "you're a terrible liar, y'know?"

"what would i even be lying about?" you scoffed.

"for one, you were staring at me like you could see through my clothes," he leaned over the counter, close enough that you could smell the alcohol on his breath. "and two, you got a little bit of drool coming out of your mouth."

his thumb shot out, ghosting the side of your lips. you felt your whole body heat up at the proximity and the feeling of his calloused hand cradling your face.

"it's not even drool!" you furrowed your eyebrows, pulling away with your arms crossed, earning a raspy chuckle.

"so you're not admiring how hot your dazzling boyfriend is? harsh blow," he playfully frowned, holding a hand over his heart. he will never truly get over how fun it is to make you embarrassed and watch as you would bury your face into your arms.

"you'd be hotter if you'd shut you mouth for once." you downed the rest of your drink in one go and shot up from your stool, not wanting to give him another reason to taunt you.

you could hear him trailing behind you to the living room, his belt clinking as the canteen nestled at the side of his thigh garter slapped against it with every step he took.

"not even gonna tell me if my drink was good or not?" gallagher tilted his head like a pleading puppy as you collapsed on the couch.

"it was good." you shrugged, focusing on finding the remote that must've fell into the depths of the sofa.

he sat next to you, placing a hand on your thigh as he loosened his tie with the other. if this wasn't some intricate ploy to seduce you, you didn't know what else.

"just good, hm?"

"do you want me to give you an expert's opinion?" you sighed in exasperation, turning towards him to only be met with an amused look etched on his face.

"when'd you get so sassyー do i really distract you that much?" he smirked as your eyes widened. he had noticed the way your legs pressed together as grasped at the skin, and he was going to make sure that your prissy attitude was going to stop right here and now.

"you're in for a surprise if you think you're distracting me-"

his hand slowly made its way up to the apex of your thighs, the feathery touch and anticipation sending shivers down your spine. "i'm not distracting you? then you'll be fine not paying attention to anything i'm doing, right doll?"

you were conflicted as you mulled over the consequences of telling him and not spilling your secrets. either he'll leave you high and dry, laughing in your face as you beg for more, or he'll reward youー with the downside of endless teasing right after.

well, future you can always worry about that.

you gripped his wrist, trying to guide him closer to where his hand was inevitably going to end upー if you played your cards right.

"i'm not going any further until you tell me what that pretty little brain of yours was thinking about," he shook his head, your strength not even moving him an inch. he began to trace incomprehensible symbols onto your knee, every stroke feeling like he left behind a burning trail on your flesh.

"can't resist someone like you," you half-joked, hoping that he would accept it and move on already. instead, his eyes narrowed, and he withdrew his hand.

"you gonna tell me the actual truth?" he raised an eyebrow as you whined at the loss of contact. the sound made him subconsciously perk up, but he restrained himself from acting on his desires.

"but it's embarrassingggg," you drawled, pouting as if that would push him over the edge and forget the reason why he was practically edging you. you'd have to applaud him on his self-control thoughー the bulge in his pants was becoming increasingly noticeable.

"so embarrassing you can't even tell your boyfriend? what can be worse than that time you said you got off to my damn voice?"

you knew that ever since you confessed that to him, his ego has been blown out of the water. and you'd be damned if you were going to give him another thing to boost it.

but the uncomfortable heat between your legs was becoming unbearable as you thought about what you could have if you just told him this one little secret.

"well. . ." you trailed off. it wasn't like it was taboo or anything, but it made you irrationally sheepish. "i think your hands areー attractive."

he burst out laughing, running a hand through his silky hair in disbelief. "that was what you were hiding from me? a damn hand kink? you think about my hands when you're riding that pillow of yours?"

you shushed him, scowling at the accusation, but also not denying it. "this is why i wasn't going to tell your ass."

"i hope this makes up for it then."

his scruff tickled at your collarbones as he nibbled at your neck, leaving behind blossoms of purple and red. the tiny gaps and pants that escaped your lips weren't enough for himー he wanted you screaming.

"gal- what are you doing?"

he simply hummed in response, continuing his assault. his gloves were rough as his fingers trailed under your shirt, skimming your nipples, before retracting his touch quickly to rest his hands at your hips to pull you in.

"wanna do me a favor, pretty girl?" his voice seemed even more coarse and rugged than before as he admired his work. you were going to hate hiding these hickeys for the next few days.

you nodded without hesitation, curious to what he was going to ask you to do. in one swift move, he unbuckled his belt and garter, discarding them to the side as he unzipped his pants. his shirt rose up a little, revealing his light happy trail and v-lineー you swore your mouth watered a little.

"g'na keep staring?" he began to unbutton his shirt, the sleeves that were rolled up to his elbows straining against his muscles. you swiftly pulled his pants down, noticing the wet spot on his boxers.

you've done this multiple times before, but every time you released his cock from its confines you still managed to be amazed and in shock.

the head was red and dripping with precum as you rubbed it before slipping it into your mouth without warning. his hips jolted, pushing his dick further into your mouth and causing tears to prick at the sides of your eyes.

"yeahー just like that," gallagher threw his head back against the cushions, adam's apple bobbing as he struggled to keep his composureー which was hanging on by a thread. it was impossible for him to try not to just grip your hair and push your head all the way down.

spit oozed out the sides of your mouth as you gagged, mixing in with his fluids. the messy sight of it had him groaningー what he would give to take a picture of you right now.

"so pretty like this-" he began babbling off compliments, not able to make a coherent sentence.

"mm- f-fuck, i'm so sorry about this, doll." before you could even question why he was apologizing, his fingers intertwined with strands of your hair as he began holding you down all the way to the base of his cock. you made a noise of surprise as you felt cum shoot into your mouth, the hot liquid shocking you for a moment before you attempted to swallow. he released his grip, letting you lift yourself up and you could see the mirth in his gaze as his cum leaked out your mouth and dribbled down your chin.

"are you fucking kidding me?" you wipe the cum off your face with the back of your hand.

"you're just too fucking good at it, sweetheart," his chest heaved as he tried to regain his breath.

gallagher pulled off his gloves with his teeth, keeping his gaze locked on yours in those few torturously long seconds it took.

he moved you so you were hovering over one of his thighs, arms resting on his shoulders as he lifted up your skirt.

"you're fucking soaked," he grinned as he expertly removed your panties, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

"yeah, yeahー just hurry up," you whined. his fingers gathered up your arousal and held it up to the dim light to see how it glimmeredー gallagher was going to be the death of you.

"c'monnn. . ." you were clenching over nothing, and he could see that.

"not even a please?"

"pleaseeeee," you pleaded, any self-respect gone in your desperate attempt to be filled up.

"just cause you asked so nicely," he slipped two fingers in easilyー he wasn't lying about you being soaked.

your rocked back and forth on the palm of his hand, drenching it with your slick as he rapidly thrust his fingers knuckles deep into your sopping cunt. every time he would curl his fingers and brush up against that certain gummy spot in you, you swore you saw stars.

"keep making those cute noises for me, yeah? s' fucking good for me, princess." he practically growled into your ear, the harsh noise making your walls clench around his fingers. he could probably get off on just the sight of you aloneー but he was adamant that he was going to come in you.

the building pressure in your stomach felt more intense than it had ever been, and you clawed at his arms as your mouth gaped open.

"m' gonnaー sirー" the name came out on accident, and if you weren't so close to climaxing you would've bothered to save yourself.

"sir?" his lips turned upward. "that's new."

"shut- haah-" your weak attempt to snap back was broken by you creaming around his fingers pathetically, trembling.

"that's itー being so good for me." he slowed down his pace until he eventually slid his fingers out, still connected to your pussy by thin and gleaming trails of your fluids. you slumped on him, jerking when you felt his dick rub up against your abused pussy.

"ya' got one more left in you, doll?"

you nod, not actually sure yourself. but you wouldn't pass up a moment have him inside of you.

he easily lifted you up, practically manhandling you as he laid you on the couch and angled himself on top of you. you practically sucked him in as his head tapped at your entrance.

"even this pussy of yours can't be patient," he didn't wait for your response as he abruptly plunged into your walls. it was so unexpected it had you digging crescents into his back, so deep you know it was going to leave scars. maybe they'll match with the ones that adorned his arms.

"wanna hear you call me sir again. say it." he nearly pulled all the way out, earning a cry of dejection out from you.

"sirー sir, please. . . i need more." you threw a hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle the noisesー which he instead replaced with his lips, swallowing all the sounds you made. the lewd squelches echoing throughout the room would've made you blush in any other situation.

gallagher always prided himself that he could make you go dumb and stupid on his big cockー but the fact you'll say whatever he wants? he's whipped.

"such a fuckin' slut for me, hmm? getting wet over my hands and never paying attention." he broke the kiss, immediately going back to praising and degrading you. you couldn't even process a single thing he was saying, but the mocking tone he used made your walls flutter.

"jus' for you," you rambled, chanting out little 'sir's with every heaving shove of his cock deeper into you. he wasn't above average in girth, but he could easily kiss your cervix and see a little tummy bulge that had him cooing.

when he pressed down on your lower stomach, the pleasure practically became unendurable. without warning and a choked moan that bordered a scream, you squirted, the liquid making it all the way to his abs, it slowly dripping down the crevices.

gallagher simply sped up, chasing after his own high as you squirmed at the overstimulation.

"s' too much! please, please-"

"a lil' bit more, pretty girl. ya' feel so good." he reassured you, burying his head in the nape of your neck.

he let out a long groan, your only warning that he was close. you saw his abs tense as he did one final push into you, his arms giving out as he collapsed on top of you.

minutes passed as the two of you calmed, until gallagher let out a little laugh.

"sir? hand kink?"

"i will bite your dick off."

i did not eat this up i fear

[emoisthenewemu]

“Ella Baila Sola” ~ Hanta Sero x F! Reader

Hispanic! Hanta Sero x Hispanic! Reader

This idea came to me suddenly and I just had to write it I love him sm <3 . Also i tried to leave it open to interpretation on exactly what kind of Hispanic Sero is but just know everyone here is Mexican leaning!

Summary: Your so-called “date” invited you to a baile only to tell you he doesn’t like to dance. Sero sees you dancing all by yourself and wants to fix that.

Cw: AU! w no powers, porn w plot!, p in v, College AU! Hanta, SMUTT, dirty talk, drinking, weed smoking, spanish-speaking, reader is apprehensive about leaving with Sero at first but ultimately decides to go with him, cheating-kind of not really

CHARACTERS ARE 21+ MDNI

⋆˚✿˖°𐙚

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You sulk, kicking up dirt with your botas as you glare at the stupid man that brought you here. He was cute, tall, had a decent job and a nice truck. He was one of your loyal story likers so you figured there would be no harm in saying yes when he invited you out on a date. To a baile of all places! You were impressed and seriously excited, having looked forward to this all week. You worked extra hard trying to find a cute outfit, even getting a chance to wear the new pink BB belt you’ve been dying to bust out ever since you bought it. Your hair was meticulously styled, makeup done all nice and sparkly and you wore your most expensive perfume (you also wore your shortest skirt). Needless to say, you looked forward to going out and dancing the night away with a handsome guy who’s had his eye on you for a while.

“Don’t look at me like that bruh! You can dance with one of my friends or something” Your date shrugs, popping open a bottle of beer as he sits on the tailgate of his truck. Your eyes dart over to his friends that you were previously introduced to, unable to hide the grimace on your face as they eye you up and down.

“No thanks” You grumble, crossing your arms as you look out onto the rancho, watching as the crowd of people dance around. The puff of dirt being kicked up in the air is just a reminder that you are not having a good time while everyone else is. “So what the fuck do you even do at a baile when you don’t dance?! Just sit there and drink and smoke?”

“Pretty much” He nods, sparking up a blunt and you whine.

You snatch it from his hands, mumbling something about them being losers and take a few puffs. You’re going to need something to entertain you if you really are going to be dancing with a bunch of people you didn’t know. But you are determined to have fun and you look cute, if he doesn’t want to dance with you then someone surely will. So you stomp away towards the crowd with a determined look on your face.

Sero is sat at one of the chairs on the opposite side of the yard. His eyes are stuck on you-not that you’ve noticed with all the huffing and puffing. He is visiting home from college and due to it only being a two-hour drive his friends decided to tag along too. It’s funny really, he even leant Kaminari a pair of his boots and he says he looks like a real Takuache. He doesn’t expect any of them to dance besides Ashido of course. That was the whole reason she tagged along in the first place. A few of his cousins have joined, one of them is determined to teach Mina how to perfect the art of Huapango.

“How do you not fall in love when you’re that close?” The pink haired girl observed the way the couples in front of them dance. Lord knows if a mysterious sexy man wrapped an arm around her waist and spun her around, practically grinding on her the way some of these people are-she’d fall for him on the spot.

“That’s what makes it fun” Sero smiles, he had every intent of going out to meet girls tonight. Work his charm and get close to a few of them before never speaking again. But he watches you-all by yourself and yet you don’t seem to care. A smile on your face as your hips and feet move in sync with the music, that tiny top and skirt of yours comes dangerously close to exposing you. But it never does.

As time passes he finds that he cannot stop looking at you. He doesn’t even mean to. In fact, he tried to make a point of ignoring it once Kaminari had mentioned you seemed to have pulled up with some guy.

Some guy that let you dance all by yourself. What a shame, he thinks. He’d never do that to a girl as beautiful as you.

“Stop being a bitch and go ask her to dance!” Hanta’s cousin pushed him in the shoulder, snapping him out of the trance that was you. Every time he looked your way he needed a good five minutes before he could look at anything else.

“Oooh! Ask if she wants a shot!” Mina squeals, shoving the bottle into her classmate’s chest. And he cannot even protest because the shouts of his friends and family are loud enough that he can’t get a word in.

For some reason, there is a pit in his stomach. His legs feel like jelly and he takes in a shaky breath before walking forward. He shakes his limbs loose a bit, reminding himself he is not a bitch and has done this plenty of times before. But for some reason you make him nervous, you are just so pretty and eye catching to him. The jewels of your belt sparkle and the matching pink top make you easy to spot out. The man clears his throat, finally within arms length of you.

You take notice of him, seeing as you were no longer dancing, in the process of walking back to your date to let him know you’ll just have one of your friends pick you up. He is also blocking your path, you can see the truck off in the distance before his large body blocks your view. You look up, he’s tall and handsome. He has that Peso Pluma haircut that you are embarrassingly in to, stubble pricking at his chin and jaw area, with big dark eyes. His button up is neatly tucked in to his jeans, a nice belt with a large buckle that you don’t doubt was expensive. His botas look nice and clean but upon further inspection you can tell he’s put them to use. He has a chain sticking out beneath the unbuttoned part of his shirt, a bit of chest hair poking out. He smiles kindly, for some reason you don’t feel intimidated by the large man standing in front of you. “¿Quieres?” He offers the bottle out towards you.

“Buchanas?” You sound obviously disappointed and he thinks the way you scrunch your nose in disgust is so adorable.

He laughs at your unimpressed expression. “¿No te gustas?”

“Mmm not really” You shake your head but the more you look at him, the more you want to take a shot of this sexy stranger’s bottle. He seems to be with a group, you spot a few girls there too so the thought that he might be a creep doesn’t really come up. “¿Tienes tequila?”

He laughs again, shaking his head no. “That’s crazyyy. How come all the pretty girls are into tequila? Shit tastes like rubbing alcohol”

“Not even!” You defend yourself. “If you stick to it all night you won’t get sick!”

“Mm” He nods, obviously not taking your words into consideration. The way he stares at you is starting to make you nervous, his ability to maintain eye contact is impressive. You want to tear away from his pretty eyes but find it hard to. A devious smirk makes its way onto his face. “So no shot?” You look up at him teasingly, crossing one of your feet behind the other as your neck begins to hurt from looking up at him for so long. And you giggle before trying to grab it from his hands but he won’t let you. “Nah, let me pour it for you” You raise an eyebrow, warning him to not pour too much but he pinky promises that he won’t.

“Eugh!” You groan, wiping your mouth as your breath suddenly feels hot. The bitter taste enveloping your tastebuds as you try to breathe it out.

“Esooo” He teases, patting you on the back almost proudly. “So you wanna dance?”

You’re about to say yes when you remember your date. The one who brought you here in the first place. Shit. He probably watched that whole thing happen. Hanta notices the hesitant look on your face, turning around to see whatever the hell you were looking at. You both look at your date-Antonio yeah that’s his name, you almost forgot. He looks mad and his friends seem to be laughing, yet they don’t move from their spot. The man at the center of them is holding his beer close to his chest as he very obviously stares the two of you down. “Your boyfriend really lets you dance by yourself?”

“He’s not my boyfriend” You answer but remain frozen in place.

“So let’s go dance” He gestures his head towards the sea of dancing bodies and you want to, you really do. But you stay looking at stupid Antonio whom you were supposed to be spending time with. Hanta notices your hesitancy, eyes darting back to your date. “Okay pues, let’s go ask him”

And you are about to reject the idea but Sero has already taken off walking, taking rather large steps to avoid you catching up and trying to stop him. As embarrassed and anxious as you are, it’s extremely attractive how determined this man is to dance with you. He better be good with all of this drama he’s about to cause. “¡Oye muchacho!” He calls out and once you hear his voice you pick up the pace. Your eyes widen as you come to a halt, somewhat hiding behind him as you feel yourself shrink beneath the glares of the men in front of you. “¿Puedo bailar con su chica?”

“Huh?” The dumb look on his face is embarrassing, you cringe as Hanta looks at you with an unimpressed expression. As if to ask if this is really the guy you showed up with? It had to be a mistake.

You roll your eyes, you thought he spoke at least a little bit of Spanish. “He asked if I can dance with him” You translate.

Antonio grows silent, eyes darting between the two of you before finally shrugging nonchalantly. Like he doesn’t even care. “Do whatever you want” He tries to laughs it off before taking a sip of his beer. “Let him take your ass home too”

You roll your eyes but Sero only nods. “Bet” The men stare each other down a bit while you awkwardly watch, still slightly cowering behind your knight in shining denim. He turns around and you follow, the man slowing down a bit to make sure you now walk ahead of him-he hates the way those guys are staring at your ass. “M’sorry hermosa I never even asked your name. Promise I’m usually nicer than that”

You laugh it off, assuring that it’s okay because you never even introduced yourself either. “Y/N”

He grabs your hand, kissing the back of it. “I’m Hanta” He placed the bottle down on his now empty seat. “Let’s go dance Y/N”

It was definitely worth it. You danced for hours. Antonio who? You only know Hanta who dances better than any one you’d been with before. After a certain point it’s hard to even remember that you did not show up with him, it feels like you’ve met him before. You trust him to lead, the way he spins you around and moves his hips is intoxicating. The two of you are completely in-sync, not a single mistep as the loud noises of drums and trumpets blare in your ears. You even let him pick you up a bit, swinging you over his leg just to bring you right back. You can tell he’s been dancing ever since he was a kid. At first the two of you kept a cute distance, bodies still pressed together but a slight gap at your chests. A timid hand on his shoulder as he whispered silly things in your ear. Anything to make you laugh which he has now discovered is a top ten sound of all time. His hand was right at the middle of your back but it seemed that every time you made your way around the dance floor, every time you passed your date who still had yet to leave, his hand would inch a bit lower. And the more you talked, as he told you he was a college student just visiting town for the weekend to see family, you began to grow more comfortable with him. How could you not? Bodied pressed together so close, an unexplainable heat building between the two of you. You begin to get closer to one another, chests now touching as his hand is now settled at the waistband of your skirt, guiding your hips to sway with his. His thumb has somehow tucked itself beneath the fabric. He’s so hot it’s stupid, you think and now that you are inches apart you can tell he smells incredibly good too. Not only that but his body is firm, a bit rough even as it is clear he is very built beneath the layers of clothing. The knee in between your legs also seems to inch up a bit, perfectly settled between your tiny denim skirt. Pretty soon your arm has found its way wrapped around his neck and the more you talk you begin to simply rest your forehead’s together. You can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose, the way your lips are so close together that you can feel his breath mixing with yours.

“Think your guys getting mad” He teases, pulling his head away a bit to gesture towards the group you had arrived with.

“Good he’s a fuckin’ weirdo” You giggle. “He’s just mad you’re so much hotter than him”

Sero laughs, screaming on the inside because he is so in. He made it, the approving looks on his friends faces also feed his ego, a sly grin after an enthusiastic thunbs-up from Denki. And Mina who mouths about how hot you are. “Nah I think he’s just mad I stole his pretty girl away” His hand is rubbing the exposed skin of your back now, slowing down a bit as the tempo does the same. “Let’s make him even more mad, yeah?” He whispers that part in your ear, his deep voice goes straight to your core.

You nod shyly, unaware of what his idea of making Antonio jealous is. “Can I?” He asks again and you nod yes even though you aren’t sure what he’s asking. You squeal in delight when his hand that has remained so respectful until now reaches beneath your skirt to give your ass a squeeze, he all but groans at the feeling of plush skin all exposed thanks to the tiny thong you’re wearing. His hand goes back up, choosing to rest itself in your back pocket instead before he spins you around so that you are perfectly aligned with your old date’s line of sight. He winks and gives you another squeeze through the fabric, hoping the smug look on his face is detectable from all the way over here. It seems that it is because that just happens to be Antonio’s last straw as he visibly stands up, chugging the rest of his beer before him and his friends leave the party for good. The rev of his engine is unbearably loud and almost as obnoxious as the cloud of dust his tires picked up.

You don’t care, only laughing as you ask him if they actually up and left. “Sure did, I told you he was jealous princesa. Don’t worry, I’ll get you home safe”

“Mm I dunno” You mumble, God you want to go home with him so bad. But you’ve spent your whole life not trusting any man-even if he is extremely hot. He’s leading you away from the dancing, a cautious hand on the small of your back as he leads you through the crowd. “I can just have my friend pick me up. He doesn’t live far”

“He?!” Hanta stops in place and you bump into him on accident, trying to get your footing right but he catches you easily. “You’re breaking my heart” He brings a hand to his chest, pouting down at you as he wipes away an imaginary tear.

You cannot stop the laughter from leaving your mouth, slapping him on the chest lightly. “It’s not like that! We grew up together! And he would not like me going home with a strange man I’ve never met before”

“Sounds like a good guy” His response surprises you, you were expecting a bit more pushback. “I get it, if you’re not comfortable letting me take you home then I understand” You smile thankfully and he squeezes your hand in reassurance before continuing to lead you through the crowd. “Just let me know mamas”

He introduces you to his friends-some classmates from school who seem absolutely thrilled to meet you. The guy mentions how he’s never seen his friend pull such a babe before and earns a smack upside the head. The girl immediately comments on your belt, squealing about how much she loves the bling. His cousins are just as friendly as he is, his girl cousin even asks if you have a ride home or if you wanted one of them to take you. And you talk with them for a while, starting to feel very welcomed by the group and you even smoke another blunt with them. You dance a bit with the girls too, you even dance one song with a guy but you make sure to maintain a respectful distance between the two of you. You were going to say no at first but Mina assured that her friend wouldn’t mind, besides she thinks it’d be funny to see him jealous. And he is, as soon as the song is over he goes to scoop you away and bring you back to the chairs, forcing you to sit on his lap.

“You’re not mad are you?” You ask, noticing the way he is now holding onto you like he’s afraid you might run away.

“Nah you came to a baile to dance right?” He laughs, shifting you in his lap so he can get a better look at you. He tucks away a piece of hair behind your ear, going back to that same intense eye contact that made your stomach queasy earlier. “And I dance way better than that cabrón, don’t I?”

His hand squeezes your thigh and you smile, running your acrylics down his jawline. The man eases into your touch, groaning softly at how good it feels. “Yeah you do”

There is so much need shared between the look in your eyes. He does not fail to notice the way your eyes seem to constantly dart down to his pink lips. His hand continues to play with your hair, lightly running through the strands. His other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as his hand rests on your thigh. “So pretty” He compliments as his eyes take in your entire figure, scanning you up and down. “Mm, you look so cute. Like a pretty little doll” He plays with the end of your shirt before bringing his hand down the side of your skirt, resting once it meets the exposed area of your thigh. You lean into him, enjoying the way he makes you feel so confident and appreciated. “Dame un besito” He’s grabbing your chin and the way you go for it is almost automatic.

You cannot think of anything but him, not an inch of space between the two of you as your lips begin to move in sync. His kiss is firm, needy and you whine when he licks your lip in an attempt to get more of you. You open your mouth, allowing his tongue to press against yours. His grip on your chin remains strong, moving your head along with the way his tongue moves. He has no shame of groaning into the kiss, fighting the urge to pull away and breathe because he craves all of you. He’ll miss you when you have to pull apart. He whines when you are the first to do it, biting your lip in an attempt to halt your escape. The both of of you are left gasping for air-goofy smiles on either of your faces.

There is a moment of silence as the song being played in the background ends, the only noise being the chattering of the party-goers, as the banda readies up for another song. The strobe lights paint your face green, then red, then blue as Hanta looks up at you with the feeling that he’s never wanted anything more in his life than to have you. He’s not even drunk, the effects of the blunt are starting to wear off too. But he just wants you so badly that the cannot think properly. All he knows is that you are just the type of girl he’d go for, it’s a shame you’re such a long distance away or else he’d wife you up for real. You seem like perfect girlfriend material.

“Lets dance a few more songs then get outta here” He suggests, hoping to God you will say yes.

“Mkay” You giggle before going in for another kiss.

He keeps true to his word and you get up a few moments after to go dance some more. This time he is holding you flush against him, his knee almost painfully close to to the spot where you crave him the most, even worse is when the music slows down and he sways your hips over him. You’re practically sitting on his thigh by that point and the friction is enough to make a certain wetness begin to pool at the thin material of your panties. He knows damn well what he is doing. A now constant smile on his face as his hand rests comfortably in your back pocket, squeezing whenever he feels like it. He even leans down to give you soft kisses every now and then, some of them even making their way down to your neck. He is teasing you, uncomfortably so to the point where you want to just beg him to take you to his car and fuck you right there. But you’re not desperate (you swear) and you want him to be the one who breaks. A particularly drawn out part of the song plays, all of the instruments silent as they wait for the cue to start back up again. He is rolling you over his thigh, not even caring to be gentle with the way he grinds you against him and a soft moan leaves your lips.

The banda starts going at it again and he spins you around, back to dancing normally. You whine, bringing a hand up to play with his hair. “Let’s get out of here Hanta” You whisper into his ear. And you definitely do not have to tell him twice because he immediately drags you over to the table where his friends and family are at. He announces that he will be taking you home, double checking that Ashido and Kaminari will be all good going back with his cousins. And they all bid you goodbye with big, knowing smiles on their faces.

He’s leading you out of the party, a cautious hand around your waist to make sure you don’t slip on the rocky terrain. By the time you reach the truck your boy best friend is calling, having seen the text that some dude is going to take you home. “Hello?” Hanta watches you curiously, the way you pout and groan as it is clear whoever is on the other side of the phone is scolding you. You argue a bit back and forth insisting that he’s a good guy and you’ll be okay. “Ugh fine Kiri! You’re so annoying!” You hold out the phone to Hanta, who only furrows his eyebrows. “He wants to talk to you”

And much to your surprise Hanta does not hesitate, grabbing the phone as he opens the passenger door for you. He helps you get up into the truck and shuts the door behind you. He is still on the phone, standing outside as he paces back and forth, you try to roll down the window to hear whatever the hell he might be saying but have no luck. Sero makes his way back to the truck, obviously wrapping up the phone call. “All right man I got you” He laughs and you watch in shock. “No problem bro…take care” And then he hangs up as you continue to stare in disbelief at the fact that he managed to sweet talk the most judgmental friend you have. “What?”

He is eager to find somewhere to take you, sadly he can’t bring you back home because his mom would absolutely kill him for sleeping with a girl under her roof. So he has to settle for a spot he use to go to with his cousin when they would ditch school-a viewpoint hidden from most civilization. And he has to remind himself that you are precious cargo so he shouldn’t be driving so fast, so reckless as his need for you grows stronger with every passing second. His knuckles are almost turning white with the way he grips the steering wheel, his knee bouncing up and down impatiently as he imagines himself tearing you apart. He looks over at you every now and then, just to make sure you’re okay. That you’re comfortable. But every time you catch his eye you smile sweetly at him-squeezing his hand and subconsciously bringing it close to slipping beneath your skirt. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, he hopes so. Finally the truck comes to a stop, he has you right where he wants you.

A part of him wants you grab you in his arms and throw you back there himself, manhandle you the way he craves. But he won’t-he wants to at least try and be a gentleman (even though he’s fully ready to fuck you in the truck). He wishes it could be more romantic. “You wanna go to the back mamas?”

“Mhmm” You mumble, pecking his lips before jumping over the center console, purposefully sticking your ass out as you make your way over. He gets the most perfect peek of your lacy pink thong as your skirt rides up and his jaw drops open, a low groan exiting his mouth.

He’s not sure how long this gentleman act will last. Hanta fucks nasty and all he can think about is turning you into a shaking, slobbery mess. He joins you in the back, pulling up his seat a bit to give the two of you some more room. He manspreads between two seats, smirking over at you as he pats his lap for you to sit on. “C’mere”

You oblige, gasping in delight when you sit on his painfully hard length-the feeling of it poking you through his jeans is unmistakable. He notices your reaction, the way your thighs squeeze together to rub against him. He fixes you so you are straddling his thigh, the same one he was grinding you against when dancing. Your lips finally meet in a heated kiss, your hand pressing flat against his chest to play with the medalla beneath his shirt. And when his tongue enters your mouth you both moan unashamedly, his hands behind to slide down to grope your ass beneath that slutty little skirt he thinks is so cute. The second he brings your hips down to rub your clothed pussy against his thigh you’re done for-you can’t help but pull apart to let out a soft moan. “Mm” He whines-pulling apart to look down at you. You are now rubbing against him by your own volition, throwing your head back when he begins to kiss at the exposed skin at your chest. “You like riding my thigh baby?”

You should be embarrassed with the way you moan at his words. But you can’t help it, he’s been teasing you for so long and you’re so wet. “Come on pretty, I asked you a question” He grabs you by the cheeks to look at him and you try to avoid eye contact but can’t

Suddenly you feel shy, a warmth spreading in your chest. “Y-yeah feels so good baby” You continue to rock your hips but you are growing frustrated as you rub against the somewhat rough fabric. If you go any faster it would hurt, your lips growing sensitive with the friction created by his jeans. “But I want more” You whine, bringing the hand on his chest down to play with the buttons of his shirt.

He assists you in taking it off, unbuckling his belt so he can untuck it from his jeans. You do not bother to hide the way you stare at his toned body, bringing a finger to run up and down his muscles. He kisses you again, loving the way you are practically eating him up with your eyes. He wants you to touch him, his heart flutters when you scratch your nails up his biceps. “M’gonna take care of you pretty girl. Don’t worry”

He takes off your shirt, kissing between the valley of your breasts as your hands fumble down to unzip his jeans. His kisses are hot and open mouthed as he bites and sucks at every bit of skin he can, one of his hands is still lazily gripping your ass, continuing to roll you against him. The other hand is now making its way beneath your bra, squeezing the fleshy mound in a way that is so satisfying to him. And you have found the opportunity to stick your hand down his pants, he groans the second your hand grips him through his briefs. His lip attaches to your nipple, sucking the sensitive skin and flicking his tongue over the bud. You both are whining messes, sloppy movements as your hand finally slips past the fabric of his underwear. He moans into your nipple as you squeeze the tip, finally getting the opportunity to jerk him with your hand. “Fuck” He groans, turning his attention to your other breast which has been poorly neglected. He’s letting out sweet noises of pleasure into your skin, pulling you down harder on his leg as he cannot help the way his hips buckle into your touch-so desperate to have you.

Desperate. Yes, he is so desperate it almost hurts to not be inside you. So he leans forward, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you up as his free hand digs into the center console. You are pressed against the drivers seat and somehow neither of your movements stop. You continue jerking him as his lips remain latched around your nipple, absentmindedly digging his hand through the various little things he keeps in his car. And finally, he finds exactly what he was looking for.

You pull apart, sitting up slightly so he can pull his jeans further down. You watch in awe when his length finally springs out, slapping him in the stomach with a glossy tip covered in precum. He just looks so good, why would you not watch as he tears the condom open with his teeth? Bare chest visibly going up and down with each heavy breath, his abs are starting to glow with the thin layer of sweat coating them. He notices your staring, a cheeky grin making its way onto his face.

“You look so good” Your compliment makes his dick twitch and he doesn’t even say anything. He answers by rolling your skirt up your hips and pulling down your cute little thong.

His hands get comfortable on your hips, holding you back from him so he can get a perfect view of your glossy pussy. He moans aloud at the sight, bringing his thumb into his mouth to collect some spit before bringing it down to your clit, rubbing soft circles. Your hips stutter forward, audible whines leaving your mouth as he simply slides a finger up and down your pussy, gathering as much slick as he can before pulling away-a small string leaving with him. “Got such a pretty pussy” He cannot stop the words leaving his mouth, he hopes you’re into dirty talking because he knows he won’t be able to shut the fuck up the second he gets inside you. Finally his hands pull you closer but he chooses to slide his dick up and down your folds, somehow finding the willpower in himself to tease you even more as his tip brushes against your clit. “You get all wet like this for me princess?”

“Mhmm” Your cries are almost pathetic as you try to push your hips down onto his. Your hand attempts to grab at his cock to just put it in already but he slaps it away. “Pleaseee baby….I just want you so bad”

He laughs, mocking you as he puts in just the tip before stopping and you cry aloud again. “Sorry mama. You just sound so good begging for this dick” You clench around him and lean forward to kiss the side of his face.

“You’re being meann” You complain and that makes him give in, slowly sliding you down his length as it knocks the wind out of you. “Aggh..so big” You cry out as you now feel completely stuffed, your eyes roll to the back of your head when he pulls himself out of you only to snap his hips back in again. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you grow accustomed to his size.

“Fuckk baby” Sero throws his head back, guiding your movements for you as your walls clamp down on him in a way that makes his toes curl. His thrusts are starting to grow a bit harder, you cry out at the way it feels like all of your spots are being perfectly hit. You feel stretched out in a way you’ve never been before, you even find yourself wiping away some drool from the corner of your lip. “Squeezing me so good…m’all up inside you mamas” His words go straight to your head. He encourages you to sit up straight, a hand falling down to your stomach to press down at the slight bulge forming with every thrust. “Feel me right there?”

“Fuck!” You curse, legs twitching at the dirty words leaving his mouth. “Yes Hanta feel you so deep”

You begin to bounce down on his cock, ignoring the way your head sometimes bumps against the roof of his truck when you go up. It’s worth it, the way he isn’t afraid to moan is definitely the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed. Most of the guys you slept with before seem embarrassed to let out any sound that wasn’t a grunt or some heavy breathing. So boring. Not Hanta, he’s full of surprises you’ve come to find out. You’re certain you will remember his slutty noises for the rest of your life. Damn, how are you supposed to hook up with one of the lame guys in your town when you know Sero is walking around with the best dick you’ve had in your life?

This cannot do, you need to make sure this is a night he will never forget. You want him to think of you when he’s at his next college party chatting up some girl.

“You fuck me so good hermoso” You praise, making sure to look him dead in the eye when you spit in your hand before bringing it just below his shaft to give some attention to his balls. Slowing your movements slightly to make it a bit easier-you roll the sacs between your glistening fingers. And you smile when he moans so loud, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he looks down to where the two of you are connected. You take the opportunity to kiss his neck mumbling about how good he is for you. “Hermoso cariño” You coo, licking up the shell of his ear which makes him visibly shiver. “You gonna cum for me?”

For a second Hanta was so lost in the pleasure that he forgot he was supposed to be the one in control here. His mouth wide open as he could no longer think with the way you are just doing everything right. He could cum right there like you were asking but he is fighting the urge, you need to cum first or else he’ll be mad at himself. That thought is enough to snap him out of it. He stops your movements, grabbing both of your wrists as his chest heaves up and down with every breath. “Lean back”

You do as told, resting against the back of the drivers seat as he slides a bit lower. He brings both of your hands behind your back, his own hand big and strong enough that he only needs one. And he leans forward to kiss your stomach before planting his feet firmly against the floor. He goes back to fucking you, using the arms behind your back as leverage to pull you closer, fuck you even deeper as his hips rise completely off the seat. You all but scream at the sudden roughness, his pace is brutal enough that you cannot speak. Only able to whine and cry but not coherent enough to make out a single word. Yes, this is what he wanted-to fuck you stupid until you’re walking funny. The whole truck is bouncing with his every thrust, a very obvious squeaking noise as the man below you pounds into as if you were his own personal fucktoy.

You try to talk but can only let out gasps of air. That mixed with feeble squeals that are involuntarily being let out. If you had any power here you’d break free from his grip, pulling away as you try to halt his movements. It’s too much, you feel so overwhelmed, your whole body fills with tingles. Your head begins to spin, a ringing in your ears as you feel hot to the touch. “Ohh, ohh fuck gonna cum baby”

“Do it” He begs, fucking you even harder, his thrusts are unforgiving and somehow don’t falter in the slightest. If anything it feels like he is growing stronger the longer he fucks you. “Let it out baby, make a mess on me please. Please I want it so bad”

He sounds so whiny and desperate that it pushes you over the edge, vision going white as pleasure washes over you. So satisfying it makes your eyes roll back as the man finally slows down to make sure he catches every single facial expression you make. Your walls flutter around him, causing his dick to twitch inside of you. He’s close but he’s not done with you yet. “Just a little bit more” He swears, noticing the way your body has visibly weakened after such a harsh fucking. He wraps one arm around your waist and another goes to pull you down by the shoulder. Pulling you closer he fucks up into you, slow and exaggerated. “So good I just need more” He whines, digging his face into your chest before he speeds up a bit.

Your hands claw at his back before one of them settles on tugging on his hair, mouth agape as he uses you. You’re so tired, eyes cannot even remain open as you squeal aloud in delight with the way he fucks you into overstimulation. He’s so deep inside you can practically feel your guts being rearranged, a nasty squelch from your juices with every messy thrust. “Hear that baby?”

Squelch. Your pussy is practically drooling onto him. “Heh she’s fucking talking to me” He looks down, clearly in another world of his own as his hips begin to stutter. Eyes locked on your sticky pussy. “Mm fuck think she loves me”

He doesn’t know what he’s saying, his hips are twitching and he pulls you closer if that was even possible. Sero is stuck in a trance, a familiar knot filling his lower stomach as it is clear he’s just as fucked out as you are. “She’s tellin’ me that no one’s ever fucked her this good…fuck! Gonna miss me”

Your thighs are shaking, whole stomach tightens as another orgasm approaches. His dick is pressed right against the spot you need him the most, rolling you over again and again, somehow it feels like he is growing deeper. That’s it, right there.

“Mm right there baby?” He asks and you can only nod, not even realizing you had said it out loud. He gives one final sloppy thrust as he finally allows himself to let go, moaning loudly as he releases into the condom. But he continues to fuck into you, whimpers and whines leave his throat as he finds he just does not want to stop.

And your eyes are practically crossed, gasping through the way he is getting to know every square inch of your pussy. It’s enough you make you cum again and he is very reactive to your breaking point, groaning deeply as he can feel you coming undone around him. “Ohhh fuck!” You mewl before resting your forehead on his shoulder.

The two of you gasp for air, simply holding each other as his dick remains still inside you. He relaxes his arms around your waist, hugging you before digging his face into your soft, supple skin. He kisses the flesh just below your breast, licking slightly as the salty taste of sweat gets to know his mouth. You remain silent for a while trying to come back down to Earth as you hold each other close. “Let’s get you cleaned up mamas”

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Hanta Sero kept his promise and got you home safe. Walking you up to your front door and giving you a sweet kiss before you went inside. He promises that he will call you the next morning and you really hope he will. But you highly doubt it, he’s supposed to head back to College soon anyways so you are certain he will forget all about you. It’s not like the two of you were dating, nor had you met before this. He was just a stranger you had a one night stand with, right?

When you wake up the next morning you don’t bother to check your phone, a pit in your stomach as you are afraid to face the truth that he most likely did not call. You make your coffee first, complete your morning routine before finally taking it off the charger.

1 missed call. Unknown number.

Hey pretty girl, it’s Hanta

Call me when you wake up

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A/N OMG this came out just how i wanted it im so happy. Not me in my writing era. If you made it all the way to the end ty for reading!! <3

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

"Can you hold still?" Soda leans over Darry's stomach, puttin' his full weight into it, and Darry laughs. Soda shoots him an agitated little frown he doesn't mean at all and jabs him matter of factly in the stomach. "It's star day this is important."

Darry rolls his eyes but settles back down. "I can't help it." Soda leans sits back, spins the marker in his hand over his fingers. "I'm ticklish."

"Well, figure it out or I'm gonna sic Pony on you." Darry tips his head back 'n looks at Pony upside down. His youngest brother pulls out a more than passin' imitation of the Darry's glare. Though, he should be good at it. He's seen it nearly every day. Darry reaches up 'n baps him on the head 'n Pony cracks 'n laughs.

He's layin' on his back on the living room floor, Soda at his side and head restin' in Pony's lap. Soda brings the marker back against Darry's ribs and he does his best not to laugh. He only half succeeds until he glances down at Soda's tongue bit between his teeth 'n the furrowed brow he only gets when he's focusin'. It's not funny but glory he looks so much like when he was six 'n drawin' horses at the kitchen table with the concentration of Michael Angelo, Darry can't help but snort.

"Darry!" Soda opens his mouth in mock frustration 'n that just makes Darry laugh harder. "That's it. Pony. Sic 'em."

"Wait-!" Pony worms his hand down before Darry can bat it away 'n jabs him in the ribs. "OW! That's it, you're cut off." He fights to sit up but Soda 'n Pony both jump down on him, howlin' with laughter.

"Nuh uh, mister! I'm not done!" Pony presses both his palms down on Darry's shoulders 'n Darry humors him by pretendin' that it makes any difference in him gettin' up or not.

Soda puts his marker back down 'n Darry valently bites his lip 'n doesn't even squirm. He lasts forty-five seconds. "Soda-"

"Finished!" Soda presses the cap back on 'n tosses it to Pony who snatches it out of the air.

"Can I see?" Soda studies Darry's torso for a second 'n then nods happily. Darry grabs the shavin' mirror Soda offers him 'n admires the nonsensical lines connectin' the freckles dottin' his body from his stomach up to his neck. The ones all the Curtis' only got in summer. He smiles, runs a finger along the ink fondly. "Damn Soda! You went all out this year, huh! Care to, uh, explain?"

Soda grins at Pony and points to six freckles on his side. Darry tilts his head 'n furrows his brow. "One guess on this one." Oh, well that narrowed it down.

"That one Pony's?"

"Ding ding ding!" Whenever Soda drew constellations he always managed one for Pony, a horse, 'n one for himself, a pop bottle. If Darry squinted he could see it. He could also see a dog, cat, 'n just about any four-legged animal with a tail but he would keep that to himself.

"Where's yours, Soda?" Soda points to a sort of temple that started on his collarbone 'n ended on his shoulder. It takes Darry a moment longer but he can pick out the vague shape of the bottle.

"Alright, now the rest of 'em." Soda carefully explains each one, two more horses, naturally, a fish, Orion's belt, a wonky set of three dots along a rib, a lasso, 'n two little smilies. Darry carefully traces each one, more than a little impressed by how his brothers could take a handful of random dots 'n find so many little pictures.

"My turn!" Pony jabbed Darry in the side 'n took his place on the floor. He slaps nearly every pocket before he refinds the marker, handin' it over to Darry with a mischievous lil' grin to Soda.

He pulls his t-shirt straight over his head even though most of his freckles are clustered on his arms 'n face. He never picked up his brother's tendency to walk around all summer in no shirt. Dallas always made teased him for that. Glory, Pony's playin' modest 'n makin' the rest of us look like whores. 'N Two would always howl well if the shoe fits! 'N then duck out of Dallas' grip fast as he could. Only Soda 'n Darry knew the real reason. The kid didn't tan one bit. No siree, Pony burned.

He lays flat on the floor, eyes closed, Soda playin' with hair idly. Darry picks up Pony's arm 'n twists it, lookin' for anythin' that sticks out to him. Darry always did Pony's. Pony enjoyed just layin' there 'n Darry needed more time to study where the dots could become shapes. Pony would do Soda's since, out of all of them, the kid had an imagination that could spin 'n spin 'n spit out ideas 'n drawin's n' stories the fastest. 'N Soda had an incredibly short patience for not movin'.

"Hey, look." Soda brushes back Pony's bangs 'n gently traces a jagged line across his forehead. "Hand me that." Before Pony can swat his hand away Soda's connected the freckles from one temple to the other so they form a mountain range across his skin.

"Our little prince, huh." Pony opens one eye 'n glares down at Darry but his oldest brother is just lookin' at him with that fond little smile he gets.

"Oh c'mon." He wriggles around on the carpet 'n gets nothin' for his troubles but rugburn. "Hurry uppppp."

"You sound like me now, Pone." Soda ruffles his hair 'n Pony reaches up blindly with his free arm to swing at him.

"Well, maybe I'd be done faster if you'd stop wigglin'." They drift into a soft silence, Soda standin' up halfway through to cue up the Beatles' latest record, The White Album, which had been a joint birthday gift for Darry last month. Half of the gift had been them toleratin' Darry's affinity for that McCartney kid's weepy grandma songs.

"Alright, I think I'm done." Pony jolts up, grinnin' down at his arms.

"Lemme see, lemme see." Darry twists the mirror around so he can see the back of his biceps, pointin' out what was what.

"Look, this is Soda's." Darry's linked four freckles into an elongated diamond 'n penned in DX. Soda cracks up, twistin' Pony's arms so he can see better 'n forgettin' it's attached to the kid.

"You're a walkin' ad, kid! They should hire you!" Pony snatches his arm back 'n wrinkles his nose up.

"'N work with Steve? Yeah, hard pass." Soda howls 'n Pony tries 'n fails to look put out.

"Hey, this must be yours, Dar." Soda positions the mirror so Pony can better see the lopsided Superman logo on the back of his shoulder.

"Yup, but this one's my favorite." Down the hollow of Pony's throat 'n up under his jaw are three little stick figures all facin' different directions.

"Hey! That's us, right?" Darry ruffles his hair and drops a kiss to the freckle on his temple that makes up the end of his crown.

"Yup," He shoots Soda a grin 'n wiggles his eyebrows conspiratorially, "the shrimpy one is you."

"They're sticks! They all look the same!" Soda grabs him by the chin so he can get a better look.

"Nope, Darry's right." He nods solemnly. "The good lookin' on is me." Pony shoves him off 'n he lands on his ass. Darry hoots a laugh 'n manhandles Soda so his head is restin' on Darry's knee.

"See, Soda gets my creative vision." Soda peeks up at him, upside down, 'n cackles.

"Oh shut up." Pony snatches the marker from Darry 'n instantly goes to work. Soda starts squirmin' less than a minute in 'n Darry leans over 'n flips the TV on, an episode of Scooby-Doo is playin' 'n Soda grins 'n crains his neck to watch.

"You got our north star this year, Pepsi." Darry taps Soda on the tip of his nose where one single fair freckle stands out against his tan skin.

"No kiddin'? Pony's had it the last three years, the hog." Pony sticks his tongue out 'n goes back to drawin'.

The episode's not even half over before Pony nods, self-satisfied. "Alright, c'mere."

"Oh my God, Pony, why do we even try?" Pony's blushes, the tips of his ears goin' red.

"They're just doodles."

"Do I need to bring up Soda's horse?"

"Hey-!"

Pony's joined vast groups of freckles into three distinct shapes across Soda's chest 'n stomach. A horse, that looks far more identifiable than Soda's drawin', across his side, a record 'n the player on Soda's left ribs, a map of some of the actual constellations Pony would drag them outside on clear nights to point out over Soda's heart. Darry can pick out the big dipper, one of the triangles, 'n the bear.

"Wait, this one's my favorite." He points to two little hearts on each side of Soda's face made from four little freckles each.

Soda twists this way 'n that gigglin' between the horse 'n the freckles. "God, Pone, you missed your callin' as an artist."

"Damn straight!" Darry laughs 'n pulls both his kid brothers in tight for a hug. Pony whines but buries his head in Darry's chest beside Soda. "Well, I dunno about y'all but I'm hungry after all that."

Soda whoops already clamberin' off the floor 'n divin' for the keys before Darry can get to them. "Dairy Queen!"

Pony throws his shirt back on, carefully rollin' up the sleeves so Darry's Superman logo can still be seen. Darry reaches over 'n pulls him in for another hug.

"You sure you don't wanna wipe any of that off?" Pony gestures to the mess of marker 'n Darry laughs, brushin' Pony's hair back.

Soda's already climbed in the truck, shirt still off 'n Pony's drawin's on full display.

"Hell no! I got stars to show off."

[renren-006]

"I know" | Daryl Dixon x Fem reader

word count: 739

a/n: A short little Daryl story! I know you all love my Daryl fics, and I can see how much support they are getting, so I would love to write your ideas if you have any!!

“I want to go with you” you told him, the gravel crunched underneath your feet as you toyed with the ground. He looked up at you from where he was fixing his bike.

“Nah” he said, tuning back to the parts he was trying to fix.

“Daryl”you said,

“No. ait putting ya in danger” he said standing up now and staring at you. 

“D…” you tried.

“Y/N, I'm not arguing with you on this,” Daryl said sternly. You looked at him, not breaking eye contact before you turned back towards the prison. “Y/N,” he called after you. You ignored him.

The rest of the day, you didn’t speak or look his way, keeping to Carol's side. You loved the man, and he still treated you like a child. You were not some young girl anymore; you were twenty now, older, and you knew what you wanted. You also knew you could take care of yourself, especially when running. That next day, Daryl was the one to ignore you, mainly because Carol fussed at him for shutting you down and for being an idiot.

“You can’t be that stupid, Daryl,” she told him as they sat outside smoking cigarettes. Daryl shook his head, his elbows on his knees as he bent over.

“I want to protect her,” he told Carol, “but she’s a kid, and she’s…hardheaded.” 

“Like someone else I know,” Carol said, Daryl shook his head. “you should just tell her why you shut her out”

“I will”

“You don’t tell her tomorrow, I'm not giving you dinner,” she said, putting out her cig and walking back inside before Daryl could protest.

Daryl did everything but tell you the reasons behind his actions. That day, you stomped around the prison, finding task after task to fill your mind and time. You wanted to talk to him, but the look on his face when he looked at you scared you. 

The more you worked, the more Daryl wanted to pull you away to talk. It was almost sunset when Daryl finally stormed over to you outside. You were holding gear to repair the fence after one of the kids got scratched on it when he had come over to you. He snatched the wire cutters and pliers from your hands and threw them on the ground. You were in shock, standing there with a gaping mouth and open hands. Next, he undid your belt in such a swift motion you felt you were going to lose your mind. The gear belt fell to the ground when he finally clutched those open hands and dragged you far into the field.

“what the fuck?” you asked when he let go. He walked forward keeping his back to you. “Daryl what the absolute fuck?”

“i don’t want ya getting hurt” he said,

“what? Is this about the other day”

“yea” he said, finally turning towards you. “I don't want ya on supply runs” 

“I'm not some kid anymore Daryl, I can make my own decisions. I can…I can decide for myself,” you yelled back at him. You were angry, and rightfully so, he wasn't just telling you to stop working but to stop seeking to go on supply runs.

“I know,” he said, stepping forward. “I know, i just ain't used to…”

“Used to what?” you asked, wanting to know how his mind was working. 

“You're being so forward with me,”  he said. “I ain’t used to it and it drives me crazy”

“I'm sorry…I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable “ you said thinking the man wanted you to stop trying to be with him or get him to realize that the mechanic biker drove your feelings crazy.

“Nah. It makes me want to do things to you, even though I know I can’t,” he said. You froze. He wanted things with you? He tried to do things to you? Your heartbeat was going wild. 

“What can’t you do?” you asked. Heat was laced in your voice, and he knew it. He could tell you wanted him to do things to you. 

“Everything, " he told you. You closed the space between you, pulling Daryl's lips down towards you. He melted into the kiss, forgetting about the world beyond.

“You can do everything with me,” you said once you broke apart, “you just haven’t let yourself believe that”

“I know,” he said again before kissing your lips and tasting you again.

[th3-3d3n-g4rd3n]

I’m dying scavenging the internet for more Carl grimes x fem! reader fics. I love the idea of wear the hat ride the cowboy. Maybe with the virgin trope if you write that. Love some smut! No Rush, get to it when/ if you get to it! ❤️

omg this is beautiful and you’re so sweet

(i had to write this twice because i forgot to save it the first time so i’m sorry it took so long 😭🫶)

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virgin! Carl Grimes x fem!reader

(reader and Carl are 18+) (i kinda pictured Carl being 18 and reader being like 22 but you can picture however you want)(suggested that the reader isn't a virgin)

cw: established relationship, riding, kindaaa subby Carl, I’m actually so unserious in the intro, dry humping, reader calls Carl cowboy, Carl is vocal and his parents are downstairs, premature ejac... he's very eager bless him, fem receiving oral

1024 words

☆彡༄

Carl Grimes is adorable. That’s the only word that comes to your mind right now, adorable.

His consistent smile, adorable. His random compliments throughout the day, adorable. His hugs from behind when he wants your attention, adorable. And, you KNOW that it should just warm your heart but for some reason, it’s warming somewhere else (if ya know what I mean…)

You and Carl were given the afternoon off so, you'd decided to read comics in his bedroom. You had eventually gotten a little bored (and bothered) so, what else to do but annoy your beautiful boyfriend?

Snatching his hat, you place it on your head and smirk up at him, sticking your tongue out. Jokingly, he rolls his eyes and says, “hey, careful. You know what they say?” You giggle at his response, “what do they say, Carl. Tell me” you reply, not knowing where he’s going with this, “wear the hat, ride the cowboy!” he chuckles.

You smile at his goofiness, before you got an idea.

You sit up and straddle his lap, “oh yeah, Cowboy? You want me to ride you?” you say with confidence that you must’ve pulled from your ass because you have no idea where that came from (hehe). For a moment, his flushed face and unhinged jaw that the boy below you presents make you think that you’ve made him uncomfortable. You consider getting off and just walking away, taking the embarrassment and probably never talking again. That was until he starts shaking his head yes rapidly.

His hands latch onto your hips, “are you being serious? Like, is that an actual offer?” You giggle a bit at his enthusiastic tone, "yeah... If you want me?"

"Hell yeah!" he shouts with wide eyes, to which you have to cover his mouth, "as much as I love your enthusiasm, stay quiet, Carl", you chuckle a bit to yourself at the situation, "your parents are downstairs," you remind him. His mouth drops to an O shape and he smirks in realisation, "oh shit... yeah."

You both sit there in silence for a minute, making sure that nobody was coming upstairs. When you hear nothing, you take the initiative to start moving your hips on top of his, catching him by surprise and making him sharply moan under the change of friction. You clasp your hand over his mouth oncemore, quickly realising how vocal the boy would be.

It doesn't take long before the boy's chest is heaving up and down, his lightly freckled face had been flushed with a deep scarlet. Of course, you promised that you'd ride him so, you couldn't have him cumming too soon. Stopping your movements, the needy boy whined from the loss of friction however, he stopped complaining when you took your top and bra off. He once again freezes in position, unsure of what to do. Since you knew he was a virgin, you took pity on his cluelessness and decided to give him some help, taking his hands off of your hips and placing them on your breasts to which he quite literally squeaks. "Don't twist your panties, Cowboy. Just take them off." You lift your hips and gesture to his jeans.

"Yes, Ma'am" he said, hardly above a whisper - unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans and, pulling them down and off before looking back up at you like an innocent puppy. God, he really drove you crazy.

Luckily, you were wearing a skirt so all you had to do was move your panties to the side before slowly sinking onto his dick. It was so annoying that his parents were downstairs because the erotic whine that emerged from the man below you was hot enough to make you almost cum on the spot. Unfortunately, it was muffled by your hand since you already knew what to expect from your vocal boyfriend.

"God, you look so pretty like this, Cowboy" you tease him. All he can do is look up at you with glazed-over eyes, cherry cheeks and swollen lips, continuing to moan behind your palm - already sporting a fucked-out expression. When he started bucking his hips up into you, you knew he wouldn't last much longer but, you didn't mind, I mean you knew he was a virgin so, you weren't expecting him to last long anyway.

"shit, shit, shit, 'm gonna-" he mumbles quickly before you feel his body tense and squirm beneath yours. You slow your movements, letting him ride out his orgasm before stopping fully. "That was so fucking hot, thank you.." he whispers to you, "you don't have to thank me, Cowboy. You're so cute."

He hides his flushed face in your neck and places soft kisses at the base of it. That was before he had a realisation, "you didn't get to cum, did you?" he said whilst wearing a lightly guilty expression. "No I didn't but, it's okay, I promise"

"No, it's not. Don't worry, I'll take care of you!" he smiles at you innocently before grabbing onto your hips, flipping you over, stripping you of your skirt and undies and lowering his face to your cunt. "You really don't have to, Carl it's oka-" you're cut off by the eager lapping of your clit, making your head fall into the mattress below you.

He was surprisingly skilled to say that he'd never done this before, keeping his mouth trained on your clit, sucking and circling whilst raising his calloused hands to your thighs and massaging them, before taking his right hand to insert a finger into your hole skillfully and, taking his other hand to your breast and massaging it like he was prior.

This time, you were the one having to cover your mouth due to being the centre of his attention. He inserts another finger and starts curling them in and out, hitting all the spots that you'd never been able to reach on yourself before.

Soon enough, you feel the knot in your stomach become undone and, your body spasms under his gentle touch; he watches you release on his fingers and listens to your muffled moans in awe.

"Shit, I could see you do that 100 times over"

I HOPE THIS IS OKAY

i quite like this one but you guys lmk what you think

love u, eden

[berryz-writes]

Jealousy

PART 2

Azriel x reader

Summary: Your forced to spend the weekend with Azriel the bane of your existence but little do you realize he doesn't completely hate you

Nfjznxsfdzfdxj this took a while my other WIP’s were distracting me. also ignore any mistakes, enjoy lovelies <33

part 1

It was torture. Downright torture. Pretending like last night hadn't happened was wreaking havoc on my brain. I didn't know how to forget about it. I couldn't.

The memory of Azriel pulling me closer, his face resting in the crook of my neck, the way his gentle hands rested on my waist, his legs tangled with mine pulling me impossibly closer. Gods I was going to go crazy.

Everywhere it went it seemed his reminders were there. The dagger I was using in training was the one Azriel had given me last solstice when mine had been snatched by an Attor. The laces on my boots were from his because apparently mine weren’t sturdy enough. 

“Where do you get your shoes from? These are awful quality” He asked, crouching down in front of me and taking his laces out to adjust them into my boots, all the while muttering about how I could have tripped and hurt myself. 

The coffee the cabin had made this morning on my command was made with a hint of cinnamon. Something Azriel had recommended to make the taste better. He was everywhere I went and it was driving me crazy.

He hadn't even mentioned last night once. Didn't even give me some sort of hint that he remembered or that it actually meant something to him. We had continued the day as if everything was normal, his biting remarks more constant and grating.

***

"We're going back on Monday" Azriel called out to me unwrapping the white gauze from his knuckles. I pulled out my dagger (yes the same one Azriel had gifted me) from the target piece of wood and frowned. Two days later? "Why aren't we going today?"

Azriel didn't look at me, instead he put his daggers in his belt making sure each one was in the proper position before replying "If I've said it there's probably a reason why. Do you have to ask questions every time?"

My frown deepened as I surveyed him from this distance. He had his wings folded together and his expression was foul as if a personal wrong had been done against him. So what if he was in a mood? Didn't mean he had to be so rude.

"I'm not going to follow your orders blindly. Tell me" I moved closer to him and stopped in front of him, the biting cold of the village hitting me now that I had stopped training. I waited for him to explain why we were spending any longer in a place like this. I yearned for the liveliness and warmth of Velaris. The golden sun beating down on me while I sat on the balcony and sipped on something cold.

We had been gone for one night and I know I was being dramatic but Azriel not giving me answers just annoyed the shit out of me even more.

He continued arranging his daggers and straightening his siphons until he deemed them perfect. Finally looking up to meet my eyes I could tell there was something wrong before he even opened his mouth. 

"There's a storm coming. It's not safe to fly tonight" His voice was controlled, as if he were trying to hide his emotions, his eyes not making direct contact with me.

I let out a scoff "And what? Winnowing doesn't exist anymore?" I knew the way I said it would rile him up. Yes I could have phrased it nicely but the way he was acting he didn't deserve it.

Eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching Azriel took a step closer to me. And then another until he was just inches away from me. His warmth radiated to me, my head having to tilt up slightly so I could look at his gorgeous face properly.

His voice was soft, the deadly stillness with which he stood unnerving me. "Velaris's shields have been compromised. Rhys is doing all he can from anyone finding out and if we break that balance. If we winnow in then that means the shield breaks." He scanned my features as if waiting for me to reply "Do you want the safety of all those people in jeopardy because of you?" His voice was quiet now, his breath blowing over me as he spoke.

A million thoughts invaded my mind as I thought of what he had stated. How had Velaris been compromised? And by who? And what was Rhys doing? I wondered if everyone back home was alright.

I took a deep breath trying not to get angry and understand the situation we were in “How long are we stuck here for?” 

It was Azriel’s turn to take a deep breath as if he knew the answer wouldn’t be one I wanted. “Minimum two more days''

Two whole days. I was going to go insane here. Either I would die from arguing with the brainless Illyrians or from hypothermia. A sudden blast of cold air hit me, reminding me of where I was stuck and who it was with. Sighing, I shook away my thoughts. I was being ungrateful. Azriel wasn’t so bad. And who knew what everyone else was going through. I opened my mouth to ask exactly that when he cut in “Everyone's fine. If it was serious we would have been called back for help whether the storm was brewing or not”

I nodded my head, the knot in my stomach loosening. As long as everyone was fine. Azriel nodded his head to the path that led to the cabin we were now sharing “You should go. I need to inform Keller of our prolonged stay”

I took it as his way of dismissing me and not wanting to talk to me. Turning around and starting down the frosted path, the warmth that engulfed me from Azriel's body evaporated completely, my footsteps quickening to reach the cabin. Slamming the cabin door shut I took out my hair tie and sat on the bed anger and disappointment flowing through me. The fire immediately started, the crackling sound the only noise in the wooden house. 

He was ignoring what had happened yesterday. He was being insufferable. He hadn’t even asked me, talked to me, mentioned it to me even once. I shifted through each word we had shared this morning and none of them consisted of him acknowledging last night. 

Azriel didn’t even tell me he wanted to forget last night, instead he let my imagination run wild on thinking if he regretted it or not. 

Maybe I was the over dramatic one. We hadn’t had sex, we hadn’t even kissed. But it felt like there was something else when he pulled me closer except for mutual dislike. 

Flopping back onto the soft bed I decided thinking of other things would do me some good. Anything other than Azriel at this point. 

Sitting up again and rifling through the side table drawers I finally found a slightly inky pen and a scrunched up piece of paper.

Hi Feyre, I heard what happened with the shield. I just wanted to check in and make sure everyone was fine. Give lots of kisses to Nyx from me. 

Ending the note with my name I vanished it away hoping Feyre would reply with some good news. In the time that I had done that Azriel walked in, flipping a dagger in his hand, his shadows moving slowly across his wings. I rolled my eyes at his arrogance and refused to start a conversation with him. If he could ignore what happened yesterday and act like it didn’t matter then so could I. I wasn’t going to act like an attention whore. No way. 

“What do you want to eat?” Was what he asked, settling into the armchair opposite me. I refused to look at him and instead let my eyes travel to the window where the sun was setting. 

“I’m not hungry” I finally replied when I could tell from his relentless gaze that he would not look away, his hazel eyes fixated on my every move, my every breath. 

A scoff escaped him and I turned to look at him, my eyes narrowed. Moving further back on to the bed I kicked off my boots and sat cross legged. 

“You’re always hungry at this time, don’t lie to me” Azriel stated. Raising an eyebrow and waiting for me to contradict him. I couldn’t. I was being annoying and difficult on purpose. Of course I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten since this morning.

Running a hand through his hair Azriel stood up and moved over to the small kitchen on the other side of the cabin. The cupboards contained any and every ingredient. I watched as he pulled out a different variety of ingredients and with the way he was looking at each one closely he didn’t know where to start. 

“Move. I’ll do it” I announced, getting off the bed and sliding across the floorboard to the mini kitchen. Azriel leaned sideways on the countertop, a slight smirk on his face as he watched me look at each ingredient. 

“What are you going to make?” He asked, clearly amused by something. Picking up the can of tomatoes I put them to the right, making a useful and bin category. 

“It doesn’t matter what I make, we both know you’re going to eat it” I replied, my eyebrows furrowed from concentration and the slight annoyance I held toward him. A sigh escaped his perfect lips as he folded his wings back 

“Why are you angry at me?”

I didn’t look at him, instead filled the metal pan with water and used my magic to heat it up. Once the bubbles had risen to the surface I added the raw pasta with a pinch of salt. 

“Y/n” His voice was sharp. Demanding. “Look at me” 

Finally turning to look at him my heart stopped beating for a good minute. Gods he was……he was something else. His warm eyes raked over my expression as if trying to find the reason for my annoyance, his lips looking as inviting as ever.

“What?” My voice didn’t come out as strong as I wanted to, instead it came out quiet and breathless. 

“What have I done wrong?” Azriel’s voice was softer than I expected, reminding me of last night. 

I decided to take the leap. I had had enough of evading the truth “You’re acting like last night didn’t happen. You’re ignoring me” 

Rather than an annoying smirk or a laugh coming from Azriel his eyebrows furrowed “I didn’t want you to feel like I expected something of you. And gods knows I can’t ignore you y/n. You’re perfect”

I let out an exasperated sigh, the steam from the boiling water making it warmer than it was before “I thought you wanted to forget about it. I’m not inside your brain Azriel”

Anger was there in his eyes but it vanished as soon as he saw my hurt expression “I’ve wanted you for so long. Every time I look at you I'm reminded that you aren’t mine. Every time you smile my heart beats faster and I don’t even know why” I swallowed at his words. What he was saying. 

He had liked me this whole time and I hadn't even realized. We were both as ignorant as each other. It was now or never.

“Make me yours then Azriel” I whispered back, waiting to see what he would say. His hands tilted my chin up and his lips met mine in the softest kiss possible. Moving his hands to my waist he lifted me up and sat me on the counter, slotting himself between my legs. Automatically my hands went to his curly hair, pulling him impossibly closer. 

The world had something against me I thought as the note I had sent Feyre arrived next to me. Azriel moved slightly back, giving me space to breathe. I didn't want that space but I didn’t say anything. I picked up the note and read it out loud, confusion increasing.

Hi y/n, 

Nyx says he misses you lots and wants you to come back. Everyone’s alright here, same as when you left. 

I’m not sure what you mean by the shield though? Is everything alright?

Putting the note down I slid off the marble top and looked at Azriel, hoping for answers. 

“Does Feyre not know about-” 

He cut me off, his hand against my mouth, startling me. His body pressed against mine, my back against the kitchen counter. 

“I lied. I wanted to stay with you for as long as possible. I would ask for your forgiveness but I’m not sorry for what I’ve done” His eyes twinkled with amusement, his deep voice washing over me. It took me a while to understand what he was actually saying, his proximity short circuiting my brain. He removed his hand waiting for me to reply. 

“Anything else you’ve lied about Shadowsinger?” I finally asked, my words coming out quietly.

His head dipped to my neck, his lips pressing small kisses on my collarbone and making his way up to my jaw. 

“I broke the cabin. I also fucked up that guy who called you a whore. Other than that…I’m an honest male” He murmured. My breath hitched as he attacked my skin, clearly wanting to leave a mark there. His hands had me caged, with no escape and I didn’t have it in me to be mad at him for lying. Yes he had broken the cabin. But if he hadn’t we wouldn’t have spent the night together and I would have never realized that Azriel harboured feelings for me. He had also gone out of his way to defend me when he didn’t need to.

I wanted to kiss him rather than shout at him for his confession. 

“I say we skip to dessert” Azriel whispered, his eyes full of desire, finally looking at me. My heart skipped a beat at his words but I swallowed and shook away my want for him. 

“Dessert is for after” I pushed against his chest to let me go but he held my wrists firmly “Promise I get dessert?”

I pretended to think about it, tilting my head “Hmm we’ll see”

Azriel’s eyes darkened but he let me go, my stomach tightening at the way he looked at me. I wanted him so bad. So god damn bad. But now that I had told him to wait I couldn’t go back on my words. Not to mention Azriel was probably already thinking of ways to make me beg for him.

I wouldn’t mind that of course.

MASTERLIST

[sp0o0kylights]

12:45 pm on a lazy Saturday, Steve dropped one of the shirts he was folding. With an eye roll at himself at his own clumsiness, he bent down to pick it up and refold it. 

 Of course, just grabbing one shirt wasn’t possible-this was Eddie's room after all, even if Steve had practically moved in. Instead he somehow managed to snag three--and something else, along with them. 

For a second Steve thought it was one of Eddie’s chains, the ones he attached to his belt for reasons Steve was positive had to do with the noise they made and that it gave Eddie something to play with.

Except it was stuck. 

Quickly abandoning the shirts, Steve followed the chain to one end, clothes and random items erupting like miniature volcanoes until he found the end looped around the leg of one dresser. 

Steve blinked.

Turning carefully on his heel, he proceeded to chase the other end of the chain, disrupting more piles until he unearthed a spiral notebook with a small lock attaching the chain to the metal rings. 

Steve gave it a few experimental tugs before he looked at the open bedroom door. 

"Hey Eds!” He called, one hand falling automatically to his hip. “Why do you have a notebook chained to the dresser?"

“What?” Answers him, followed by an immediate; “Oh!” Then; “Hang on!” all of which is punctuated by a series of bangs and shuffles. 

Eddie trots through the door a moment later, eyes narrowing as they land on the notebook in question. 

His face abruptly flushed red as recognition hits, face rearing up and--

oh.

His boyfriend was embarrassed. 

"Is this thee secret D&D planner the kids talk about?" Steve teased playfully, raising the book above his head right as Eddie darted forward to make a grab for it. 

“Steve!” Eddie yelled, launching himself upwards in an effort to grab it.

 Unfortunately for him Steve was prepared, and simply dropped his arm back down and behind his back with a grin. 

“Give it!” 

"Not until you tell me why it’s chained up." Steve replied with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Are monster’s gonna jump out of it?” 

 Eddie cursed, arms reaching and wiggling as he tried to snatch the notebook back.  “

“Oh fuck you-!” He growled, trying to fake-out Steve with a feint. 

Once a jock, always a jock, as Eddie loved to say. Which meant Steve saw right through his boyfriend and simply leaned away, the taller man stumbling into his chest.  

“Dammit!” Eddie howled.

With a laugh, Steve offered the notebook to him, grinning when Eddie snatched it out of his hands and clutched it dramatically to his chest. 

See, he’d kept ahold of the chain, and tugged at it teasingly as a pointed reminder that holding the notebook wouldn’t do Eddie any good. Not with the  lengths he’d taken to securing the thing. 

Eddie glared at the chain for a moment and Steve waited patiently for his boyfriend to realize he’d been out maneuvered--until Ed’s eyes caught his. 

The look he wore wasn’t playful, or even frustrated. 

It was fearful, and even though he tried to hide the emotion a moment later by shaking his hair into his face, Steve dropped the chain immediately. 

“Hey.” He said, humor falling into seriousness with a quickness the Upside Down had drilled into him. “I didn’t open it, I promise.” 

“It’s not--that isn’t--” Eddie clutched the book to his chest tightly with one hand as he reached up to grip his hair hard with the other, a behavior Steve knew instantly meant that he was upset. 

Shit. 

“I’m sorry.” Steve apologized, unsure of where this all went sideways but aware he’d overstepped. 

Eddie shook his head, using the motion to put more hair between his face and Steve. 

“S’not your fault. M’not mad.” He responded, voice small and quiet, the Wayne-like twang he got when he was truly upset coming out. 

Steve’s hands had come up automatically, hovering over Eddie’s shoulders. He didn’t know if touch was wanted just then, and so they stayed frozen in the air. 

Waiting. 

Eddie’s shoulders had hunched, but with a breath that kicked out a section of curly hair, he straightened back up and took a step forward. 

"You can open it." He said, practically throwing the book at Steve. It smacked the younger on the chest, and while Steve peered down at it, he didn't take the bait. 

"Not if you don’t want me to." He replied firmly, refusing to hold the book.  

Secrets had a tendency to make their entire extended group edgy, and with good reason--but people also need their space. 

Steve knew that better than anyone, given that he and Eddie weren’t fully out to the whole group yet. 

That time would come, and along with it would be things like this. Secrets that were shared over time, or boundaries set that a good boyfriend wouldn’t cross. 

If Steve Harrington prided himself on anything, it was being a damn good boyfriend. 

"I want you to. Just--don’t laugh.” Eddie muttered. 

Steve leaned in, reaching up a hand to caress Eddie's arm before pressing a kiss to his forehead, over all the hair. 

“I won’t.” He promised.  

A small, sweet smile bloomed on his boyfriend's face, visible even through the curls. Eddie's body swayed towards Steve, a bird angling for its home, looking to find the shelter it craved.

Steve opened his arms, welcoming, and Eddie stepped right into him, finally moving his hair out of his face. 

"It's okay." He said softly, pushing at the notebook Steve now held.  "Read it, handsome." 

After one last look to assure himself this really was what Eddie wanted, Steve moved so they could both see the book as he went through it. 

He flipped it open to a random page, positive he was about to read Eddie’s journal or even a story he’d been writing.

Or song lyrics. 

Steve winced internally, knowing instantly he’d feel horrible if this was full of Eddie's personal songs. The ones Steve knows aren’t ready to be seen. 

Thankfully, the words lining the page have nothing to do with music at all. 

"Stevie’s favorite things." He read aloud, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. 

Looked at the next page, and found it just as puzzling. 

"What to do when Steve has migraines?" It wasn��t supposed to be a question but Steve asked it like one. 

Turned to face his boyfriend for an answer and is halted by Eddie hiding his face again.

This time, in Steve’s neck. 

"Are these instructions?" He hazarded, trying to make sense of the words laid out before him. 

"They're lists." Eddie responded, voice muffled. 

Steve grinned. "Yeah, I figured that part out.” He teased gently, tilting his head to lean it atop the metalheads. 

Eddie let out an embarrassed whine, but stopped hiding so he could talk. 

“It was Nancy’s suggestion. I was upset I couldn’t remember shit about you. About us. Important shit.” 

Steve stoked his thumb over Eddie’s hip, a soothing gesture for both of them, while he tried to turn the page of the notebook with his other hand.

“She suggested I start making lists.” Eddie continued, reaching out to help Steve. “Write down the stuff I wanted to remember.” 

“You were worried about losing it.” Steve said, suddenly realizing  what the chain was for. 

Eddie tipped his head in a small nod, jostling Steve’s chin. 

“Yeah.” He admitted quietly. “That uh, that was Robin’s idea.”

Steve chuckled at that. “Sounds like Robbie.” 

Quiet descended for a brief moment, as they successfully turned the page. Steve’s eyes took in the writing, this time under the title of ‘Brain Help.”

‘Confuses left and right sometimes, pointing helps.’ 

‘Encourage cooking--Nancy says helps w/ memory.’ 

‘’Don’t point out mispronounced words, he gets upset.’ 

‘Kiss lot’s when frustrated w/ math or spelling, no teasing.’ 

“Are you crying?” Eddie asked suddenly, twisting in Steve’s grasp when the first, choked noise escaped Steve. “Why are you crying?” 

Steve hummed in answer, before carefully setting the notebook down on the bed and wiping at his face with his freed hand. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He said, half choked, smiling at Eddie through his tears. 

Eddie just stared back at him. “I’m amazing for constantly forgetting things?” 

Steve shook his head. 

“You’re amazing for wanting to remember.” He corrected. “I’m so lucky to have you, Eds.” 

Turned fully, to envelope Eddie in a crushing hug. 

“I think it’s the other way around but,” Eddie smiled, a soft private thing meant only for Steve, “just this once I’ll agree  

Steve snorted, a wet ugly sound, gripping his boyfriend harder. 

“Asshole.” He grumbled fondly, before he pulled him into a deep kiss. 

(A handful of minutes later and both are startled out of their impromptu makeout session by Wayne, who spoke so loudly he might as well have been shouting.

 “I realize their cars are in the driveway, Dustin, but I’m sorry ta’ tell ya I dunno where they went. Why don’ you n’ your buddy there go visit Max? Ya’ll can come back in a few minutes.”

“Fucking kids.” Steve muttered angrily into Eddie’s lips, prompting the other to cackle. 

“Hey you had them first man. I’m just their step-dad.” He teased, and nearly gave the both of them away with a shriek when Steve pinched him.

“Nice try Munson.” Steve responded with a low growl in Eddie’s ear. “They’re just as much your kids as they are mine.”

“If you say so, oh’ wife of mine.” 

And if that little nickname prompted another heated makeout session, then that was between them and God as far as Steve was concerned.) 

***I base all of my Eddie has ADHD ficlets on my own behaviors but this time I also gave Steve a traumatic brain injury as well. Cause I am 99.9% sure that boy has one, and as someone with a TBI from a kinda sorta similar car crash alongside having more than my fair share of concussions and various injuries, the migraines are like ⅓ of the worst things about ‘em. Thankfully I have never got into a fight or gone toe to toe with supernatural creatures, but I have been lawn darted a few times by my baby horse so I figure Steve and I are even on that front lmao

[brewed-pangolin]

Inspired by your thoughts on tea, since we know Soap makes fun of Ghost during the Alone mission for asking for a cuppa... do you think Soap would make tea for his wife? Tease her about it but always make sure her favored brand is in the pantry?

Umm...I might have gone a little overboard with this. Oopsies. (But I loved it so much!!)

Johnny would absolutely tease his love for your certain affection and acquired tastes towards tea.

Always muttering little quips under his breath as you meticulously scrutinize the herbal tea aisle of the grocery store for the better part of half an hour.

--

"Steamin Jesus, gonnae be growin' roots inta th'floor if this takes any longer."

You roll your eyes at him. Too lost in mulling over whether to go with the tried and true chamomile tea bags you've been using for years, or venture out and take a chance on the loose tea you've been reading so much about.

You decide, after much internal deliberation, to go with both.

Once at the checkout lane, you survey the ever growing line of products and can't help but notice that two of your newly cherished items seemed to have miraculously disappeared.

"What's th' bloody difference?" Soap's sudden interjection pulls your eyes towards him. Holding both boxes in his hands, eyes shifting back and forth to give each parcel a quick yet thorough inspection.

"Th's ones tea in a bag. And th's ones loose. So what, ones caged and th'others free range?"

"It's basic chemistry, smartass," you snap back. Snatching both boxes out of his hands, adding them back to the line along the grocery belt.

"You should know something about that, Soap. Being a demolitions expert and all."

"Aye, I am. Rarely havin' to deal wit botanicals though, sweetheart."

An amused sigh escapes your lips, shaking your head as you point to each box and explain in lamens' terms the difference to the ill educated Scot.

"Tea bags are good for quick steaps, inexpensive and easily accessible. But they also grow bitter quickly, are only good for one-time use, and generally have one dominant aromatic note."

You give him pause, narrowing your eyes and gander whether he's understanding your descriptive breakdown or altogether lost like a deer in headlights. His cocked eyebrow indicates the former, allowing you to continue.

"Loose tea has numerous aromatic tones, a longer shelf life, greater variety, and one scoop can be brewed multiple times. Yes, they're quite a bit more expensive and take longer to steap, but the pros outweigh the cons pretty unanimously."

"So why ya buyin' both then, bonnie?"

"The same reason you buy two bottles of the same whisky? One single malt and the other blended. Different brewing styles bring out different keynotes in taste. It's simple chemistry and, why are you looking at me like that?"

You question abruptly. His cerulean eyes gazing upon you with the warmth of a summer's dawn. And carrying with it a smile that would make any young mare weak and tremble at the knees.

"Yer so fuckin' cute when ya go on a tangent like that, bonnie. Cannae help but get lost in ya," he whispers. His thumb gently wrapping around the curve of your chin as he leisurely closes the distance between you.

"Um. Excuse me?"

A sudden, unfamiliar voice tears you both out of your enchanting eye lock, forcing you to break from his gaze and focus on the somewhat embarrassed expression of the young cashier.

"That'll be $78.95, ma'am."

--

Not even two months later, you turned John MacTavish into a class act tea brewing connoisseur. Something about the chemical intricacies of it seemed to pull at the explosive alchemy that flowed so easily within his mind.

Boiling the water to the perfect alloted time and temperature. Pouring it carefully over the filled infuser that he measured out like an artisanly skilled brewer. He even had an app that would indicate the steeping time for each distinct batch of tea leaves.

And as he brought the expertly steeped brew up to you in bed, you couldn't help but give yourself a theoretical pat on the back to turning the once tea scoffing Scot into a true master brewer.

"Simon would be proud, John." You teased, bringing the porcelain rim of elegantly decorated cup to your lip.

And Soap answered first with a icy glare, followed quickly by his typical brogish banter.

"Donnae fuckin' dare, lass."

Drabbles Masterlist

[thehermitsaltar]

Okay so Billy Hargrove x Male reader

The relationship it established and it’s on a hot spring day after school with billy driving you home but your so eager for him that you end up sharing a cigarette with billy sometimes blowing smoke into your open mouth, it turns into more when you purposely kiss him which makes him stop the car and eagerly place you in his lap, things happen and before long he’s got his hands underneath your knees on the undersides of your thighs and it holding your legs up whilst he fucks you and constantly blows smoke into your greedy open mouth - hope it covers what we spoke about!!

A/N: thank you sm brook<3 I hope you like this

Billy Hargrove x Male Reader

Word Count: 2002

Sweat clung uncomfortably to your skin as you sat out in the blistering heat. The hot metal from the blue Camero you were leaning against burned into your jean-clad ass. You huffed and looked around the empty school parking lot for the thousandth time, hoping you'd spot the mess of blonde curls you loved so much. You contemplated tugging off your loose shirt, reasoning that no one would see or even care for that matter given how the midwest heat was affecting everyone.

You were too lost in thought to notice the crunch of shoes on gravel approaching your spot, only looking up when a strong arm snaked around your waist, pulling you into a broad, sweaty chest. You groaned and cringed at the way your combined sweat mixed and clung to your shirt. You smacked Billy's chest lightly before crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes.

"What took you so long?" You weren't as mad as you let on, just tired and cranky from waiting out in the heat.

Your boyfriend had the audacity to chuckle and stare down at you with dark eyes, looking over every bead of sweat and every inch of skin.

"Sorry doll, coach kept me late. Said I was being too aggressive." He kept his eyes trained on your lips, making you blush more than the heat already had. The look in Billy's eyes made your knees weak and your thighs clench. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, trying to play off the growing erection you were sporting. "You blew me off to fight with Harrington?"

Billy shrugged, leaning in closer to you, close enough you could smell his cologne and the cigarette on his lips. His fingers found your waist, dancing along the hem, teasing the skin underneath.

"I'll make it up to you. Promise." Billy grinned that shark-like grin and pecked your cheek before pulling away completely. You shuddered, missing his warmth even though it was too hot for comfort outside. Billy hopped in the driverside with ease, feeling at home behind the wheel. You followed suit and slipped into the passenger's seat, letting your gaze drift to his bare chest still glistening with sweat when you went to buckle your seat belt. You shifted your eyes away fast, embarrassment heating up your already flushed cheeks.

Billy was quick to peel out of the parking lot, not even bothering with his own seatbelt, more concerned with pulling his Marlboro reds from the glove box in front of you. His fingertips grazed your knee, making your eyes snap up to his only to find a sly smirk on his lips before a cigarette replaced it. You kept your eyes on his lips, watching him light the smoke with ease before reaching over to snatch it from him. He was quick to pull it out of your reach, making you huff like a child.

"You leave me waiting in the heat and now you won't let me take a drag?"

Billy rolled his eyes and smoke fluttered out his nose when he breathed. He took a deep drag of the burning cigarette before grabbing the back of your neck, maneuvering you over the center console to awkwardly sit your mouth in front of his. His eyes flicked between your lips and the road rapidly. You opened your mouth, eager to taste the sweet nicotine, waiting for the smoke to curl into your lungs. Billy's chest deflated as he let out the smoke, his lips hovering mere millimeters from yours, too close yet too far. You breathed in time with him, feeling the smoke graze your tongue and seep into your throat.

You sat back in your seat, closing your eyes and savoring the taste, It wasn't the same as a normal drag from a cigarette but it was better because it was laced with Billy, the most addicting thing ever.

"Happy?" He breathed out, chest puffing with labored breaths. Clearly, the exchange was affecting him in the same way. You looked over at him lazily, feeling the heat seep into your bones. "More." Billy took another drag as you eagerly leaned over the console again, placing your hand high up on his thigh for stability, grazing over the growing erection in his pathetic little gym shorts.

His breath stuttered as he let out the smoke, this time his lips did pass over yours in the most delicious way. You pulled away while he tried to chase your lips for a chaste kiss, enjoying the way he huffed. "Such a tease."

You giggled lightly before plucking the cigarette from his fingers and took a long, satisfying drag, groaning at the taste. Billy's eyes followed your movements, shifting subtly in his seat to try and ease to pain in his shorts. You continued to smoke the stick until it was down to the last drag. With a final long drag, you leaned over once more and grabbed the back of his neck, stroking his long curls before fully pressing your lips to his, letting out the smoke into his mouth. Billy couldn't care less about the smoke anymore, only caring about the way your lips pressed against his softly before the kiss started to turn eager.

Billy pulled the car off to the side of the road hurridly, pressing on the break into a violent halt. You jerk forward, tearing your lips away from his for a moment before you reconnected. Your hands tangled into his hair which was damp with sweat. His own hands found your waist and chest, gripping your loose shirt tightly.

"Eager, huh?" You mumbled against his lips and chuckled. Billy growled deep in his chest and moved his lips down your jaw and settled high on your neck, biting and sucking where he knew you couldn't hide. Your moans and whines bounced around the metal interior of the Camero, spurring Billy's frantic movements more and more.

"Get in the back baby boy." Billy growled low in your ear, making you shiver.

You crawled into the back, Billy swatting your ass on the way, making you yelp. Once you settled in the back, you ripped off your shirt and threw it on the ground, Billy watching your movements with dark eyes, like a predator stalking his prey. He grabbed a cigarette and lit it before climbing into the back, towering over you.

"Fuck, your so pretty for me baby." His hands splayed over your chest, touching and memorizing every inch of your skin while his cigarette hung dangerously from his lips. His hands found your hips, yanking you flush against his hard cock that was hidden behind small green material. You moaned and threw your head back at the friction, trying to desperately grab anything to ground you. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist and let out a shaky breath.

"B-billy please." You whimpered and tried to grind against his rolling hips.

"Please what?" He leaned down to come face-to-face with you, silver earring dangling against his cheek.

"P-please fuck me, goddamnit Bills." You reached up to grab his back, trying to move and squirm under him in the cramped space for more friction.

"Only cause you asked so nicely." He chuckled darkly, words slightly slurred around the cigarette.

Billy was quick to yank your jeans down, smirking at the wet spot on your boxers before pulling those down too. You were bare under him, a shiver running over your body when your cock was finally freed. His hands caressed your thighs while he took a deep drag from his cigarette. He pressed your lips together again in a heated kiss full of lust as smoke curled around you two, making the already muggy air more suffocating.

Billy blindly reached over to the center console, franticly searching for the lube he kept there. He made an 'ah hah' noise before he pulled the bottle out and focused back on kissing you. You felt Billy guide the still-lit cigarette to your hands before his own disappeared out of sight. You focused on kissing him and touching his sun-kissed skin until a cold, wet finger circled your hole. You jumped a little at the freezing cold lube hitting your heated skin before relaxing into Billy's touch. His thick finger slowly inched into your tight hole, making you hiss.

No matter how many times you took his cock, he was still huge and you needed extensive prep. He loved watching you squirm and writhe under him while he prepped you so it was a win-win. He moved down to attack your neck with more hickeys while he fingered you open, savoring the moans and smoke that enveloped him.

You started to grow impatient, bucking down on his fingers and whining under him. Billy pulled away to look down at your sweaty, fucked out face before letting out a dark chuckle. "Eager, huh?" He mumbled mockingly, making you roll your eyes and huff at his antics. "Don't worry sweetheart, I said id make it up to you." Billy slathered more lube on his cock, rubbing it around and paying special attention to his pink tip. You watched him groan and throw his head back, feeling your own cock kick and leak against you.

Once he deemed himself ready, he plucked the cigarette back from your hands and placed it onto his lips, taking a deep drag. He placed his hands under your thighs and pushed them until your knees were on either side of your head. The stretch from the new angle makes you wince at the burn in your thighs before a new burn took over as Billy started to push his cock past your tight rim.

You both groaned in sync when his cock head popped into your hole. You tightened even more and tensed under him at the intrusion, the pain outweighing the pleasure. Billy cooed down at you and kissed your face, mumbling encouraging words to help you calm down. Once you signaled for him to continue, he started pushing the rest of his cock in, groaning at the tightness and heat your walls provided.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good." Billy growled out, pushing your legs against you harder. You let out a surprised moan, feeling his cock slip the rest of the way in, bottoming him out as his hips pressed flush to yours. Billy towered over you, letting out short breaths, trying to focus on staying still. You groaned and clenched down on his cock, aching for him to move and make your brain fuzzy.

Billy started a brutal pace, pulling his hips back and slamming them inside you, rocking the Camero with every thrust. Every time his cock slid inside you it punched out breathy moans, making you arch uncomfortably in the cramped space.

All the need from your teasing car ride had started to build faster than you would have wanted, but judging by Billy's frantic thrusts, he was getting close to.

"Jesus, it's like you were fucking made for me." Billy grunted, his face and hair dripping with sweat. You could only moan and whimper in response, all coherent thoughts being fucked out of you. Billy took one last drag of his cigarette before he leaned down and kissed you, shoving his tongue into your mouth while his cock plunged deeper into your hole. You lost it when you tasted him. His cock slammed into your prostate and his tongue glided over yours while he fucked you through your orgasm. You saw stars and felt light, not even noticing Billy's own orgasm until you peered up at him, his face relaxed and deep breaths moved his chest.

He let your legs go and slowly lowered his body onto yours, being careful of his cock still inside you. You sighed softly when his weight settled on top of you, bringing your fingers down to card through his hair and stroke his back. He hummed softly and pushed his face into your neck.

"I forgive you."