#and his first impression of me was that i was some stuttering idiot on the phone

[thoughtfulseason]

well maybe i am a week into 26 but looking back a year ago there was so much to change in 25th year of my life (which i was so pumped about) and i see now that i was in quite a sad state back then. now i am sometimes also in a bad state but this state is a hundred times better. i’m stronger, happier, more fit, prettier, i know myself better (even though it feels that i’m only starting to know her). life is so worth living and pushing through. i can’t even know how much better off i’ll be at 27 and i’m so excited for this year

[greenorangevioletgrass]

the albatross, here to destroy you (a.d.)

Pairing: art donaldson x popstar!reader

Summary: three years, three encounters. First, a chance meeting between two rising stars seeking an escape leaves a handprint on their hearts.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: smoking, language, greek mythology references, hella unresolved sexual tension(!!!), art is highkey a baby and lowkey a brat lol, did i mention unresolved sexual tension?, sooo much pining

Notes: this idea has consumed my waking days for weeks. I contemplated making it a really long fic, but after a long and careful consideration, I have decided to make it a trilogy! Two reasons; a) it’s gonna be really long, and b) I wanted to put Art’s look as a reference in each part lmao. Big up to @ysuftmikey and @tommysparker for being awesome and hearing out my incoherent rambles about this story. But anyway, please comment, reblog, talk to me and tell me what you think about it! Happy reading!

**i do not have a taglist. Follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass andd turn on the notifications to be alerted for new fics and updates!**

Part One: London, July 2011.

It was quite an impressive feat. 23-year-old American rising star Art Donaldson had miraculously beat the defending champion-slash-legend Rafael Nadal at the Wimbledon final.

Or so they said.

You don’t know, nor do you care much, to be quite honest. You were basically ordered to attend by your publicist, outfits picked out, hair and makeup team on full throttle only to have you sit pretty on the side of the Centre Court. And now, after milling around and halfheartedly mingling at the afterparty, you decide to give yourself some respite and slip away to the balcony.

“Oh, shit—” the man quickly turns back and stubs his cigarette on the railing, waving away any trace of smoke.

(You say man in a very broad term. He looks more like a teenage boy with that messy blond mop and skittish way about him.)

You raise your hands, showing no threat. “Sorry. Didn’t realize this balcony was taken.”

“Wait, no. Please.” He stops. He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. The only thing more embarrassing than getting caught smoking was getting caught smoking by a pretty girl. And pretty is… a fucking gross understatement, based on what he was seeing. “Don’t leave on my account.”

“You sure?”

You flash him that soft, understanding smile and he very nearly asks you not to leave, like ever. But fortunately, he’s got enough game to hold his tongue and smile back at you, “There’s more than enough room for both of us here, right?”

Technically, the balcony is big enough for the two of you to stand on opposite corners without even addressing each other. But his fingers are resting on a pack of Marlboro Green, and you bite the inside of your cheek thoughtfully. “And more than enough cigarettes, I hope?”

He’s not sure what he was hoping for, but he sure is surprised to hear you accept his invitation to stay. Gosh, he must’ve looked like an idiot right now. “Sure, of course.”

He slides a cigarette out of the pack as he offers it to you, readily leaning in with his zippo. For a split second, the two of you share a breath in the space that he encloses with one hand as he lights your cigarette. You would be lying if it didn’t make your heart stutter.

“So…” you inhale, taking the nicotine hit to calm your thoughts, “I thought smoking was bad for athletes.”

“I thought smoking was bad for singers too, but I guess it’s less frowned upon, huh?” He murmurs, trying to balance a fresh cigarette off of the side of his lips, smirking at you over the flicker of flame he started.

“Touché.” You lean your back against the railing. It’s an interesting game of chess you’re playing. Each of your reputations precede you and don’t at the same time. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re out here smoking on your own, instead of in there…” Celebrating is left unsaid, although the implied word hangs in big and bold letters.

“Ah well, maybe this is my way of celebrating. We’re allowed one vice every now and again, right?”

You look at him like it’s a bullshit excuse—and it is.

“This is gonna sound insane, but…” he takes a drag, looking out at the landscape before him, “I don’t feel like I should be celebrating.”

You look at him like that bullshit excuse grew a new head.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I worked hard for it and I’m glad it paid off, but…” he flicks the ash on the end of his cigarette three times. “I could’ve been better. Quicker. Won more points earlier. Beat him faster. And until I can do that, I don’t think I deserve a celebration just yet.”

You hum softly. “Sounds like you’re making a Sisyphus out of yourself. That can’t be fun.”

His mouth tugs into a crooked smile, not expecting to be called out like this. “I mean, at least I’m not rolling a boulder up a hill. I’d take tennis over that any day.”

“Yeah, but it seems like tennis is your boulder up a hill.”

“Touché.” He smiles bashfully as he takes a long drag. And then, he offers his hand. “I’m Art Donaldson, by the way.”

It’s a formality at this point. He knows who you are, heard your songs on the radio and saw your face on billboards more times than he can count. Hell, he saw you on the stands in your little Dior sunglasses earlier—and you saw him looking, just for a moment, sweat dripping down his perfect nose and all. But out of courtesy, you tell him your name and accept his handshake.

You pull your hand away, and he almost groans in protest. But again, he holds his horses. “Alright, I’ll bite. If I’m Sisyphus, what does that make you?”

“Oh, definitely Dionysus. Living on wine and theater and good vibes.” You’ve got that shit locked and loaded. It’s obvious that you’ve thought of this before.

“Is that so?” He chuckles. “Well… as long as you don’t sacrifice me to the maenads, right?”

“Can’t promise you that,” you quip back, tapping the gray off of your remaining cigarette. Pleasantly surprised that he doesn’t make the obnoxious remark that Dionysus is also the god of sex, as boys would do. Even more so that he knows enough to know the difference between the sirens and the maenads.

There’s no fighting the raging flush in his cheeks anymore, but he just hopes you would spare him. “Will you at least promise to make it swift?”

It comes out faster than a trainwreck, but without even blinking, the one thing that comes out of your mouth is, “What if I wanna take my time with you?”

Fuck.

The party carries on inside, although Stevie Wonder’s ‘My Cherie Amour’ sounds a mile away. His cigarette smoke comes out in a stuttered huff, as he looks away, not knowing what to do with himself. Eventually, though, he recovers, taking another drag. “It wouldn’t be a terrible way to go, huh?”

“I suppose not.” You sigh into a smile, exuding a flume of smoke through your nose. Shit, he doesn’t know which one is hotter; that, or the lipstick mark on your filter. Or the pensive look as you watch the party through the window.

Oh, he’s down bad.

“So, Dionysus…” he leans out against the railing, flicking ash off his stub one, two, three. “What brings you out here? You a tennis fan?”

“Me? Oh, no. No, I… don’t even really understand how it worked until today,” you admit bashfully. Somehow the truth doesn’t feel so embarrassing, even though you spent the day lying through your teeth. “Not until I saw you play. Which… congrats, by the way.”

“Wow. Thanks.” He’s not sure whether it’s the earnestness in your congratulations, or the fact that the game finally makes sense because of him, but his heart grows three sizes.

“But, yeah, no, my publicist dragged me here kicking and screaming.”

“So you were forced into a party, huh? That’s not very Dionysian of you…” He muses playfully, and those lines on each side of his lips aching to break out into a full smile. And they do. And it warms your heart that those smile lines only emphasizes the way his face lights up. “Nah, I get what you mean. My agent had to drag me out of the locker room to make an ‘appearance.’”

“Yeah, she said something about… shifting into a classier, more grownup image?”

“By watching a couple of dudes hit a ball with a racket?”

“By sitting there and looking pretty. It’s the only reason I’m all decked out in this ridiculous fucking thing,” you look down at your outfit with a grumble. Of all the days you could’ve run into someone cute, you’re in a fucking pantsuit like some middle-aged politician.

“But you do look pretty,” he replies without even blinking.

“Thanks, it’s Ralph Lauren.” You smile faux sweetly. “I believe I’m contractually obligated to say that.”

“Still pretty,” and he means it, lackadaisical smile and all. The ivory cape-like blazer is an interesting cut that goes down to your knees, and it makes you look regal. The cut of the pants makes your legs go for miles. It certainly doesn’t hurt that your off-white shirt is unbuttoned halfway, showing a generous amount of cleavage.

(And hey, he’s still a guy. Can you blame him?)

He has this way of looking at you. Like he’s studying you. It would’ve been unsettling, if he weren’t so fucking beautiful to look at and you don’t mind an excuse to stare back and admire the angular lines on his face. Like Apollo in the moonlight. “What?”

Art taps his cigarette much more deliberately and inhales, exhales out of the side of his mouth, much more deliberately this time. “I think you’re more Aphrodite than Dionysus.”

You take another drag. “How so?”

“First of all, for a god of parties, you don’t like to party all that much,” he grins knowingly, smugly, like he’s proud to have figured you out. But his smile softens, and there’s intensity behind his eyes. “And because you’re beautiful. And dangerous.”

Your mouth twists, pausing for a long moment. To calm yourself. To gather yourself. “But it’s so cliched, though…”

“Well, who would you rather be? Medusa, maybe?” He turns his body, leaning on his side against the railing so he’s fully facing you, and you can’t help but mirror his position.

You raise a forefinger pointedly, French manicured nails on display. “Hey. I think Medusa gets a bad rep. Neptune fucked her over, but she was the one cursed.”

“And what, you think you’re as cursed as Medusa, too?”

You shrug, maybe.

Despite the weight of your answer, he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. “There’s no way you’re cursed. A curse wouldn’t be so beautiful.”

“But a curse could be deceiving, no?”

“Or maybe it’s a matter of perspective. Maybe you think you’re cursed, even when you might not necessarily be.”

“Oh, just like you’re so inclined to keep pushing your boulder up a hill?”

Art blinks, and sucks his teeth bashfully. Just when he thought he’s got you figured out… Check and mate. “You know, if I didn’t know you any better, I would’ve thought you were some kind of an oracle. Like Cassandra.”

Your eyebrows raise in interest.

“You have this strange, unnerving ability to see right through me. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had a few drinks, or you’re just very observant, but…” he trails off thoughtfully and then nods like he’s made up his mind. “Cassandra.”

“Cassandra,” you echo quietly. “I like that.”

“Mm-hm. I’d say it’s a very fitting title for you.”

That fond little glint in his eyes is becoming a staple in the way he looks at you. And you don’t ever wanna see it dim. So you speak up again, leaning in conspiratorially. “You wanna hear something funny?”

“What?”

“My parents almost named me Cassandra.”

His jaw drops, dumbstruck. “Shut the fuck up.” His grandmother would have smacked him on the back of his head, knowing the profanity he uses (to a girl he likes, no less). But out of all the things he tried to figure out about her, he never expected to get this one right.

“I shit you not.” You watch him double down laughing, grinning to yourself. “Freaky coincidence, right?”

“Or the Fates working overtime. I’m sure they’d be laughing at us right now.” He looks up at the deep blue sky with a shake of the head.

You wave at the stars, taking a mock bow to your invisible audience. “Thank you. Glad you’re enjoying the show, guys.” The laughter lingers on your lips, and you wonder if it tastes the same on his. “We really are just the court jesters, huh?”

He nods. “Although I wouldn’t mind playing the fool for you.” Maybe it’s the drinks or the cigarettes or the unlikeliest conversation with the most stunning creature he has ever laid eyes on, but at one point, his inhibitions are starting to leave him.

It’s now or never.

The dubious smile that comes out of you is involuntary. He can’t be serious, right? “You are so full of shit, aren’t you?”

“You don’t believe me?”

You look at him like, obviously.

“What are you gonna do, punish me for lying?” There’s that glint again, the bite against the inside of your cheek, and Art steps in.

Your heart catches. He doesn’t feel much like a boy now, inches away from you with a disarming look, his intentions crystal clear. And your head drops for a moment with a wry smile. “You can’t say that to me...”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Because? His grin widens, because for the first time this whole evening, he’s got the upper hand. And he likes it.

“I…” You blink at him, finding yourself cornered. Thankfully, though, your phone comes to the rescue, buzzing in your pocket and popping the tension between you and Art like a balloon. “I’m sorry, do you mind if I—”

“Yeah, sure.” he backs away a step, flashing an understanding smile. He watches you pick up the phone, looking out at the London sky. He would swear up and down that he didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He just loves to watch you gnaw at your lower lip in thought, study your moonbathed profile.

Listen to the sweet, sweet sound of your voice.

“Hi… no, I’m still at the— yeah. I’m not sure… are you still with…? Oh, good. Good, just checking. Say hi to everyone for me... Yeah, I’ll call you when I get back?” You catch Art’s gaze, and your stomach drops as you hear the dreaded words on the line. But again, you’re backed away into a corner. So you look away and say it back, “I love you, too. Bye.”

There it is.

Art really should’ve known this. He should’ve seen it coming. You were way too good to be true, but that doesn’t stop him from getting disappointed. No, his heart breaks on the spot, and he’s pretty sure you can hear it.

(You can’t. But you can see it in his face.)

The silence is awkward. It’s ugly. The steady sounds of cars passing by on the ground feels like it’s right in front of you. For the longest time, the two of you can only look out onto the horizon. Anxiously tracing the outlines of skyscrapers in sight.

He is reeling, like he’s been shaken awake from a dream. “So, I take it you’re taken, huh?”

The look you give him is apologetic, and it kills you as much as it destroys him. “Yeah.”

Art rubs at his jaw like he’s willing himself to say something, anything. “I see you’ve cursed me, then.”

“What?”

It takes him a moment to gather his words. Put together his thoughts in a way that you would understand. He didn’t mean it to sound so damning, but it’s the first thing that comes out. It feels like taking a boulder out of his throat. “By making me like you.”

Oh.

Your face falls. Of course. How cruel of you to play his game, knowing you’re setting him up to lose. “I’m sorry. I never meant to…”

“No, no. I’m not blaming you, I swear,” he quickly interjects. “It’s… not your fault one of us is a fool.” He smiles ruefully at nothing.

“It’s a shame,” you quietly admit.

And even then he can’t be mad at you. Not from the way he looks at you oh so tenderly. “It’s a real shame, love.”

There are no words, no more witty remarks. They’ve all been exhausted out of you. There’s nothing left to exchange but that soft look of resignation. Of defeat.

Of wishful thinking.

The cigarettes have long died out and forgotten, only the filters left between your fingers. Your ashes fall in a big chunk on the railing, while Art’s… have free-dived and dispersed in the muggy night air.

“I should go.” Your voice comes out in a whisper. “Let you go back to your party.”

Art can only nod. He keeps his mouth shut, not trusting himself enough to not beg you to stay.

You reach out, almost pulling back, but you can’t help it. Even if it’s just a nothing hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Art.”

He covers your hand in his, just for a second. His thumb caressing the back of your hand. His heart is in pieces, but at least he will have this. If nothing else, he will still know how your hand feels in his.

And just as quickly as it happens, it ends. Art doesn’t dare watch you leave. He misses your touch instantly, and the sound of your footsteps, and the door opening and closing follows. As Al Green’s ‘What Am I Gonna Do With Myself’ plays on in the party, Art looks out towards the London sky and lights another cigarette.

[taintedcigs]

eddie w tattoo artist reader..... trying SO hard to seem like he's not dying from pain while she tattoos his chest, bc he's trying to impress her. she's the coolest girl he's ever seen and the fact that her art is on him forever makes him so giddy and happy, almost as happy as getting her number

call me if you need a groupie — e.m.

yes yes yes yes yes. a thousand times yes to this. thank u for this request omg i looooove lovesick cutie eddie soooooo much. this was meant to be a blurb but now its a 2.8k+ fic oops. idk if there were exclusive shirts ok i tried to do my research but this is the best i could get and idk how tattoo processes are so take everything i wrote w a grain of salt !! not proofread as always so ignore any mistakes and also idk why but i looved writing for this dynamic and if anyone would be interested i could write a pt.2 for some smut !! (maybe sub!eddie or switch!eddie? 👀)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!tattoo artist!reader (wc: 2.8k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI w any of my works!!. just pure fluff!! maybe the teeniest tiniest angst, eddie is kinda insecure <3, eddie is a lovesick cutie honey pie !! and swearing? oh also tattooing ofc (needles n stuff)

He doesn't mean to flinch, he doesn't mean to show you how stressed he is, but you can sense it.

Each time the needle presses against his skin, he hisses, mouth biting onto his lips, harsh enough to draw blood.

But Eddie doesn’t care, you—the hottest and coolest girl—that has ever graced the hellhole that was Hawkins was tattooing him, and Eddie couldn’t afford to look like a coward.

So with everything in him, he shut his lips, biting on them, becoming accustomed to the metallic taste because it didn’t matter, not when you looked so fucking pretty when cooing him and your free hand squeezed his biceps for reassurance.

He didn’t know what to admire first, the way your lips quirked sweetly when you answered his dumb questions, the way you looked so focused with your lip between your teeth, trying to tattoo him, or the fact that you were wearing an Anthrax shirt, and not just any regular Anthrax shirt that you could find at those regular shops, it was an exclusive shirt that was only sold at the concerts, and he had to gulp physically at that.

You were a tattoo artist… and a metal fan? How perfect could you get?

Before his questions were answered, the needle pricked at his skin again, he cursed out, and instead of screaming in his mind, he whimpered out loud this time.

Your head perked up quickly and Eddie was now cursing himself, for being a fucking idiot, for looking like a coward in front of you.

“I can slow down if you want to,” You said with a smile, a sweet smile that adorned your perfectly red lips, they looked so fucking kissable.

“N–no!” He stuttered, but you gave him a huff. “C’mon Eds, you’re doing good… better than anyone I’ve ever tattooed has, we can slow down a bit.” You reassured.

His eyes lit up like a child, Eds? His new acquired nickname rolled off your tongue so sweetly, your words dripped in honey. And Eddie decided he would do anything to hear you call him that again.

Not only did you call him Eds, but you also said he was better than the others, and the childish grin on Eddie’s lips was quick to grow again, his entire body relaxing as he almost melted into you.

“You think so?” He asked, tone giddy and all sweet, causing a pretty giggle to escape your lips.

“I know so!” You hummed. “Tattooed a guy yesterday. He was tall. Like really fucking tall, and he had this long beard and tattoos everywhere!” You exaggerated, watching Eddie’s eyes widen. “He cried like a baby the second that needle prickled his skin!”

“And look at you, taking everything I’m giving you like a champ,” You winked.

If only you knew the affect you had on him, Eddie’s entire face grew red at that, he would, without hesitation take anything you gave him.

He tried, so fucking hard not to think about it, but now his mind was filled with the images of you, sitting on his faze, your pretty cunt glistening as he lapped away at your juices.

He imagined those pretty manicured fingers discarding his hair, ruffling while those pretty little lips were hung open, chanting his name. Your whines and whimpers would fill the room as he begged for you to cum in his mouth. He wouldn’t stop until you smothered him.

Until all he could taste was you.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, because the blood was quick to rush to his cock, and he didn’t want to have his bulge hardening against his tight pants anymore than he needed to, you were inches away from him and he wanted to seem cool–so fucking badly.

“Really?” He asked, and you nodded swiftly. “So brave for me.” You coo, lips lightly brushing against his cheek, as you plant a little kiss.

And Eddie was sure this was heaven now, he blinked quickly to make sure he wasn't dreaming, the light kiss you left on his cheeks lingered, and he could feel it burn.

His cheeks were purely crimson red now, he couldn't fucking help it. He ached for you, ached to have you close to him, ached to feel your touch, and everything you did was enough to drive him crazy, make him feel out of his fucking mind.

He was putty in your hands and you had no fucking idea.

His mouth stood agape, a dumbfounded look overtaking his features for too fucking long until the soft buzz of the machine brought him back again, the needle quick to puncture the skin's surface again, causing Eddie to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried his best not to fucking scream.

Be cool, be cool, be fucking cool Edward Munson.

He repeated it like a mantra in his head, and he was glad you were focusing on tattooing the cute sketch you made for him, and not his actual face that probably looked straight out of a horror movie.

“So—uh... c—cool shirt,” Eddie muttered, voice so low that he was surprised when you hummed back at him.

“Oh, yeah,” You muttered.

“You listen to Anthrax?” You asked with a beaming smile, gaze still focused on Eddie's arm.

Eddie huffed painfully but realized quickly that the nervousness of talking to you was overpowering the pain of the tattoo gun drilling into his skin.

“Are you kidding? Anthrax, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath... Megadeth! You name it I probably listen to it,” He hummed, and your eyes glimmered, causing Eddie's breath to hitch and his wavering nervousness to appear again. “Metal is my jam, baby!” He exclaimed, not too loud to disturb your tattooing process but loud enough to cause a giggle out of you.

Metal is my jam? Baby? Who the fuck says that?

Eddie was afraid to look into your eyes now, afraid to see the gaze everyone gives him.

Like he's an outsider like he's a freak.

But when he hears that pretty giggle of yours again, comfort takes over him, nervousness dissipating quickly when he sees the gentle look you give him.

Almost as if to let him know that you also love those bands. Almost as if to let him know that he wasn't an outsider because you were just like him.

“Dio?” You asked with a curious gaze, face beaming up when Eddie nodded furiously.

“Fuckin' love Dio,” He muttered, barely realizing the needle on his skin now, all thanks to you.

“Uhh—how did you even get that shirt?” Eddie asked, almost shyly, admiring the way you were neatly tattooing him.

“I wanted to go to that concert so badly but the tickets were sold out so quickly.” He added.

“Oh! I was Belladonna's groupie,” You muttered mindlessly, the pain as you prickled the needle was an afterthought to Eddie now, almost forgetting how to breathe, he coughed, quite loudly, causing you to look up at him and see the bewildered look on his face.

You stopped the machine when you chuckled lightly, "Oh, Eds!"

There it was, that nickname again, god you were dizzying his mind.

“I was just joking,” You smiled at him, and he wanted to melt, right then and there. "Needed to go a little bit deeper so I thought I'd distract you," You shrugged, and Eddie returned the smile.

He liked the feeling of having someone care about him, he liked talking to you, and he sure as hell enjoyed being with someone so similar to him—someone so fucking cool.

“Though I did go to that concert in 1987.” You could feel Eddie’s curious gaze on you

“My friend knew their manager,” You murmured again.

"Really?!? How was it?" He asked, face beaming again.

“So fucking cool.” You gushed as you started talking about their set list, how the first punch you ever threw was at that concert, and you enthusiastically animated Donais' guitar riff, earning a hearty chuckle from Eddie. He loved every bit of your story, listening attentively as your exaggerations enticed him more and more.

The longer you tattooed him, the more comfortable Eddie got, pain was no longer his main concern when all he wanted to do was make you laugh, hear that sweet giggle escaping from your lips, admire the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him so sugary.

Minutes stretched into hours as you focused on his tattoo, each pass of the needle causing a smile on your face as the sketch you made became more intricate and alluring on his bare skin.

“All done!” You exclaimed with a smile when you finally finished tattooing him, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when the buzz of the machine was finally replaced with silence.

You couldn't help but trace every part of his face now, you wanted to see if he liked it, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach as you couldn't read Eddie's expressions.

“Oh my god,” Was all that left Eddie's lips, and your lips almost started to tremble.

Jesus fucking Christ, how bad did you fuck up?

“Oh my fucking god,” He repeated again, this time his head tilted upward to your direction, almost snapping as you looked at him with scared eyes.

But your gaze eased the second you saw the admiration in Eddie's gaze. “This is a fucking masterpiece!” He beamed, causing a smile on your lips, so fucking big and pretty that he wished he could have that tattooed instead.

“It's fucking perfect,” He muttered again, shaking his head in disbelief when he looked at the tattoo on his forearm.

“I mean when I saw that sketch, I knew you were good to , but holy shit,” He praised again, causing heat to grow in your cheeks, he had no idea how much it meant to you, to have someone appreciating your art, to have people walk around in the sketches you did, indelible on their skin. It felt so fucking good.

“It's...perfect.”

“Really?”

“Of fucking course,” He gushed. “You're so fuckin' talented it's crazy,” He muttered, fingertips gentle as they avoided glazing through the tattoo, but around it.

You were so fucking perfect it was killing him, and he couldn't help the giddy feeling inside of him knowing that your art would be etched into his skin, forever.

You couldn't shake off the thoughts in your head, swirling when Eddie uttered those compliments to you.

Your cheeks grew hot so quickly that you felt the need to turn around, trying to think of something to say to him so that you wouldn't look like a fucking idiot.

Eddie turned around to face you, the smile that brought out his dimples apparent in his face as he watched you scrabble something on a business card.

“Thank you,” You muttered when you turned around, hands almost shaking as you extended your arm to give Eddie the card.

He scrambled it into his back pocket, not caring when you were this close to him, but you frowned at that. “No, thank you, for this masterpiece” He winked, pointing toward his forearm.

He didn't even know where he got the confidence to even be able to wink at you, and his coolness wore off the second he exited the shop, a silent shrieking scream exited his mouth as he freaked out.

Your sketch. On his arm.

You. Tattoo artist. Metal fan.

You, kissing him on the cheek, talking to him for hours, laughing at his idiotic jokes.

You.

Eddie was sure he lost his mind, hands shaking as he reached for the card in his back pocket.

The card was black and the title on it was dripping with blood. He whined.

How much cooler were you going to get?

He gulped when he looked back, seeing you toward the clear glass door, and he knew.

He knew that if he didn't do it now, he could never do it, this was his only fucking chance, and he couldn't be a coward, not now, not when you were this close to him.

Eddie entered back into the shop in a frenzy, causing your head to pop up swiftly as you looked at him dumbfounded.

God, you were so gorgeous he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“C—can I ask you something?” He cleared his throat to not appear nervous, and you nodded, furiously.

“Look, I know this is weird and all... but... uhm, I really feel like we connected,” He muttered, fingers tapping against the glass counter that you were standing behind in.

“And I thought maybe... uhhh... I could like—get your number or somethin'?” He uttered anxiously, tilting his head slightly to the side, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips.

And even though why you laughed was reasonable, it was the worst fucking thing you could have done to Eddie.

Especially when your laugh seemed so mocking, almost different than the ones you gave him earlier before. Jogging deep into this memory of the countless times when Eddie tried to pluck up the courage to ask girls in his class out, only to be laughed in his face, or to have them insult him.

But this was more than that, it pained him.

It pained him to think that you thought of him like the others did. Like you saw him as an outsider, too.

His bubble of confidence that was already wavering was even quicker to fizzle out, he could feel that familiar lump in his throat, shoulders slumping as his gaze was quick to show his emotions.

He was hurt. And he was sure this hurt much more than a thousand needles breaking the barriers of his skin, “Uhhh,” He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Just.... never mind” He added, defeatedly turning back around to exit the shop once again as he ignored you calling out for him.

“Wait!” You yelled out after him, but Eddie started walking faster.

“Shit shit shit!” You cursed yourself for your little joke.

“Eds, please!” You called out again, this time effective enough to make Eddie stop in his tracks.

Eds. Oh you knew how to get him hooked, how to get him right where you wanted him.

And he hated himself for being this weak for you, someone he met, just recently.

“What?” He answered coldly, glaring at you with bitterness that made you want to hide out, that gentle soul in him disappearing in mere seconds.

And you sighed, hating that he could ever see you as someone that would make fun of him.

“Flip the card,” Your gaze on him was intense, cheeks growing hot again knowing that you were going to see his reaction to your stupid note.

“I don't have time for your bullshit” He spat, almost on his feet to leave.

You sighed. “Eds, just... will you just please flip the card?” You asked, all prettily that Eddie couldn't help but oblige, but be gentle with you again because he couldn't resist it. He couldn't resist you.

He huffed as he plucked the card out of the back pocket of his jeans, turning it over in one swift motion.

'CALL ME IF U NEED A GROUPIE' and your digits were attached right below it.

His gaze softened immediately, head drooping further as he huffed at himself.

He felt stupid, so fucking stupid.

Why did he ever think you would treat him like the others?

His chest expanded with hope when he looked back up at you, a soft smile graced his lips.

“Oh,” He muttered, not able to help the childish grin that was now stuck to his lips.

“Shut up,” You giggled, nudging him slightly.

“You owe me,” You narrowed your eyes sarcastically, causing his brows to quip.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asked, a newfound confidence washing him over when you were so easy to talk to.

“A date,” You beamed, scrunching your nose.

“Okay.” The words left his lips quickly, too quickly that it had you feeling giddy inside.

“How about tomorrow?” He didn't even know how he managed to get those words out without stuttering.

“Uhm—sure.” You were the one stuttering now, cheeks burning up as you could barely look at him. His grin was sickly inviting.

“I'll pick you up at 8?” You nodded so quickly that you were sure your head was about to fall off.

“See you tomorrow,” His voice was sultry as he winked again, making you almost melt, looking cool on the surface when all he wanted to do was go home, freak the fuck out, tell Wayne all about the cool girl who tattooed him, and not be able to sleep until your date tomorrow.

[bonny-kookoo]

Finish Line request!

I find the first meetings fascinating, so I'm sorry if I always ask for them... But if possible, first time nerdyJK and MC met, please!

"I think this one looks angry." You speak up, making Jungkook snap his head up towards you.

He's- a little taken aback. You.. do not look like the type of girl to really go to a motor show on your own accord. And, considering how utterly pretty you are, you're probably here with your boyfriend- who must be a total idiot to leave you alone like that, if one was to ask Jungkook.

"Don't you think?" You look at him now, curious smile on your shimmering lips. "It's frowning." You giggle, and he can't find words for a second, before he moves a little to stand next to you, looking at the front of the currently displayed race car.

It's a Ford Fusion- one of the cars with some of the most wins in Nascar history up until now. And now that he looks at it..

"It uh.. it does." He mumbles, making you laugh. At him? Or with him?

"See! Told you." You beam, swaying back and forth on your high heeled shoes. Your skirt is short, nails a pale pink. There's a hello kitty charm on your bracelet. Your entire outfit seems to be matched by the theme of that little cat, in fact.

"I guess.." He says, scolding himself. This is why he's fucking single. He just can't talk to girls at all, not at his school, not now. He's about to graduate for fucks sake, and he's still a virgin.

"Do you know a lot about cars?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"A little." He admits. He actually knows a lot. But he doesn't want to seem nerdy.

"Heh, I don't buy that." You grin at him with a suspicious gaze. "I don't know shit about them. I'm scared to drive, actually." You admit.

"H-how so?" He asks. Keep the conversation going Jungkook, you're doing great!

"My dad and I went camping like, five years ago I think?" You say, tilting your head a bit in thought, before you lift your skirt a little- not enough to show off anything scandalous, but enough to show a clear scar, faded, but very visible on your thigh. "He crashed that car 'cause he was drunk. One of the metal pipes went right-" You turn your body and leg- another scar on the other side of your thigh, "-through my leg." You explain.

"Oh.." Jungkook doesn't know what else to say.

"I'm terrified of it now. My friends and I went here by train because I still can't stand driving in a car." You laugh.

"M-maybe.. you could start with slow steps?" He wonders. "Like- just sit in one for a bit. No driving, just.. I don't know, read a book. To.. make yourself feel comfortable little by little." He explains, muscles trembling a little as he forces his voice to stay strong.

"Huh. That.. sounds actually really smart." You pout to yourself. "I think I'll do that." You chirp, and he smiles in return, making you open your mouth to say something, when a friend calls your name, catching up to you, and taking your attention away as you wave at him as you walk away.

And Jungkook brushes it off in disappointment, unaware that just a year later he'd meet you again, at a coffee shop he'd visit with his friends.

"Oh." His eyes widen as he recognizes your pretty face, hair a bit different now, but still fitting you well.

You seem to think for a second, and then you smile that million-dollar-smile at him again, ceramic braces almost invisible to him if he wasn't so focused on details all the time.

"Oh, it's you!" You beam at him happily.

"It's me." He chuckles, friends behind him both confused and a little impressed that he seems to know you. "I uh.."

"Do you wanna go on a date?" You ask him boldly, and his eyes are as wide as they go. "I mean- this is the second time I meet you. Gotta be a sign from upstairs- or downstairs, I don't really care." You joke, leaning forwards a bit.

"I mean- yeah? Yeah! Yeah let's uh.. I don't know?" He stutters a bit helplessly.

"Cool!" You giggle. "That's.." You mumble, writing something down on his receipt. "..my number. Just text me whatever- just no dick pics please, those are kinda cringe." You say, making him frown a bit to himself before he laughs.

"Don't worry, I won't." He promises, before he pays for his drinks, and leaves with his friends-

His first date with you not even a week later, marking the beginning of a love that will last forever.

[druidwolf21]

Part 2 of

https://www.tumblr.com/druidwolf21/765041362011914240/first-impressions?source=share

Leman russ

Can you tell he's my favourite?

Same as last time, there are 2 endings to this and there is smut waaaay at the bottom

This one has some bad language so be warned!

Enjoy!!

@jaghatai-khock @beckyninja @lemon-russ @moodymisty @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond

If you wanna be tagged on untagged let me know.

Word meanings

Drengr-warrior

Ulfr-wolf

The Aett- fenrisian word for the fang

You finally tousled your way from the crowd, granting you a flash of freedom as you realised the door was only feet way, you couldn't hold back a toothy grin, practically tasting freedom, before your thoughts were forcefully ripped to reality when a rough hand clasped your own. Blinking in confusing you looked down at the hand, following the arm up to where it attached to a young flushed lad, smiling drunkenly at you.

"my dear sweet lady" he slurred slightly "you would leave without allowing me to introduce myself?"

He stepped closer, still smiling like an idiot as you smelt the bitter tang of spirits on his breath, you scrunched your nose as he brought you hand to his lips, placing wet lips against your skin.

"my name is Aetius, fair lady" he stepped closer and you tensed as he placed a hand on your hip, leaning in to you. "But I'm sure you will remember it well from your chambers"

Fury flashed through you at his words, bristling, you grasped his hand, ripping it from your hip and twisting; You felt muscle snap and pop as you yanked his joint upwards before releasing him to flail past you and, smirking, you watched him stagger upright, cupping his injured wrist before his raised his head and scowled at you.

"you psycho bitch" he hissed through gritted teeth "stuck up little whore, do you know who I am? You should be greatful I..."

He stuttered and faltered as a shadow engulfed you from behind

You however were too enraged to notice, cold fury emanating from you as you stepped towards the cowering lad.

"you jumped up little prick, you're lucky I'm wearing this stupid dress, or i'd kick seven shades of terra out of you" you raised a finger, prodding him in his chest, oblivious to the towering figure stood listening as you spewed all your stress from the evening into your words.

"if you EVER touch a woman like that again and I hear about it, you'd wish one of these Astartes had found you first. Are we clear"

All the blood had fled from the man's face as he looked to you, then over your shoulder, before looking back to you, nodding shakily and tearing off into the faceless mass of bodies.

You took a deep breath, smoothing the snowy folds of your dress and glancing around to make sure you hadn't caused a scene, sighing and relaxing your shoulders when you realised no one had taken much notice. You allowed a smug smile to grace you as you nodded slightly to yourself, feeling pretty pleased with how you put that little arse in his place.

"such sharp fangs for such a little thing"

You spun round, ready to kick of again until you realised who had spoken to you.

Leman Russ, Primark of the space wolves.

You gazed up at him, clothed in dark leather and furs, he was no less intimidating than he was in his armour, muscles taunt under a wolf fur cloak, his yellow hair braided or falling freely about broad shoulders. Your eyes finally trailed up to his face, finding large canines exposed in a wicked grin and glacial eyes reading you like an open book.

"my bite is worse than my bark" you sniped back quickly, holding his gaze. He raised an eye brow and a rumble resounded in his chest as his eyes lit up.

"As it should be, drengr!" He laughed, his thick fenrisian accent sparked a feeling deep in your gut as he grinned at you. You felt warmth spread up your neck and across your cheeks as he looked down at you, you flashed him a mischievous grin, embracing the blush as it creeped across your features and dropped into a mock curtsy.

"I aim to please, my lord" you drawled sarcastically, drawing another barking laugh from the wolf.

"and yet, I spied you so eager to escape, little ulfr"

You rose from your stooped position and eyed the man carefully, he still had a carefree smile creasing his handsome features but his head was cocked and his stare pierced into you, questioning. You found yourself staring for a moment, lost in his eyes before blinking and coughing to hide your embarrassment. His smirk grew bigger as he watched your cheeks redden again as you stuttered slightly for a response.

"Worry not girl, I know exactly what you were doing, come, perhaps we can escape the monotony together. Besides, I would like to hear more of that fire in your belly and I can scarce hear myself in here"

He placed a large hand on your shoulder and shuffled you towards the door, clearing a path with his sheer mass.you sighed loudly as, finally, you reached the door and slipped through, your companion twisting the gilded handle shut and sealing the ruckus of the party behind thick carved wood.

The hall was quiet and empty, lit gently by the low flames of flicking lamps peppering the walls. You walked forward and took a deep breath, stretching your arms above your head as the last of the tension left your body.

Russ watched as you skirted through the undulating mass of nameless faces and multicoloured robes, ducking away from conversation with your eyes dead set on escape. His eye had been drawn by the glint of white and gold amongst the forest of rainbow garments and he grinned slightly, amused at your dedication to avoiding any and all conversation directed at you.

His gaze had hardened and his smile dipped into a small snarl as his gaze drifted to a young group of men, pointing and clapping each other on the back and he moved to intercept when the drunkard detached from his friends to approach you.

However it didn't seem necessary, standing behind you snarling at the inebriated youth, only to be pleasantly and wonderfully surprised when such a pretty little thing like you had lashed out and put the Welp in his place.

Now he was definitely interested.

He had smirked and genuinely laughed as you talked, pleased to find your wit was as pleasant as your face and he had eyed you as you slid through the door, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure as you stretched.

"so, what did you want to know?"

He dragged his eyes away from your silk wrapped figure back to your face, making no attempt to hide where he had been looking, relishing in the fact you had looked away shyly when you noticed.

"Amuse me" he shrugged, squatting to look you straight in the face.

Your voice caught in your throat as the Primark lowered himself to your level and you could smell the scent of fresh grass and pine as you took a deep breath, mingled with the faint spice of mjord. You opened your eyes not realising you had shut then and found that same toothy grin getting bigger.

You rolled your eyes at him with a soft smile and began to tell him about growing up into the household, running around with serfs and the kids of the lower class. He had belly laughed as you told him about beating a Sargent in a game of poker and having to scramble out of the hall to avoid getting caught by his commander, and you had smiled dumbly up at him as his canines glinted in the dim light when he threw his head back in laughter.

"aaah such a wild lass, I understand why the poor lad was so enamored" he snorted, tousling a hand through his hair and bouncing slightly in his squat.

Without thinking you copied him and reached out to run a hand through his mane, tangling through the strands. You felt him stiffen as you trailed your fingers down the length of a braid before dropping back to your side, his head tilted slightly as your hand fell away.

Leman sucked in his breath through clenched teeth as he felt your touch. One minute he had been laughing so hard his ribs had hurt, the next, one of his heart had jumped into his throat as he felt your touch. Worlds apart from the blows he felt on the battle field you were whisper soft in his hair.

When was the last time a touch was so gentle to him?

He lent gently into your touch without meaning to, smelling the floral perfume on your wrist as your hand twisted through his hair and he almost growled when you slipped your fingers from his locks.

"will you tell me about fenris?"

He perked at your voice and rubbed his jaw in thought.

"I can. Or I can show you"

Go with Leman.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as you processed the low rumbling request put before you.

"...what?"

"I want you to come. with me." he held out a large calloused hand towards you.

A million thoughts crashed through your head. Leman Russ, Primark of the space wolves, the wolf king, was crouching before you, hand outstretched offering you a choice. You mouth gaped open and you struggled to find the words.

Fenris, planet of ice and fables, how many times had you dreamed of seeing the fang, of running it's halls and basking in the warmth of hearth fires. And you'd be lying if seeing the lord of winter on one knee in front of you wasn't all kinds of tempting right now.

"why?" Was all you could squeak out as the moment started setting in. You searched his face for anything telling, but he still waited, a small upturn at the corner of his mouth as he eyed you up.

"because I find you amusing, because this place is too tame for you" he paused before continuing gruffly "because looking at you pleases me"

You chewed your bottom lip, deep in thought over the events of the evening, every step that led you to this moment, thinking bag to that smug arseholes face as he'd tried to touch you, of the uncountable number of lords and ladies who had pawed at you, simpering at you to gain favour or more. The drawn out speeches and the expectations thrust upon you by your brother.

"my lord Russ, I have heard a lot of stories about you, before we met today" you began carefully, watching his reaction. "As a warrior and as a man"

"Oh?"

"id quite like to see if there is any truth to them"

You placed your hand in his palm and an impish grin streaked across your face.

Leman dwarfed your hand is his own mighty grip as he rose to his full height, eyes beaming down you you, almost as bright as his smile as he began escorting you.

"come then, my little wolfling, the Aett awaits!"

"At least let me grab a bag!"

Refuse russ

You blinked, mouth agape as you stared at the mass of muscle and fur knelt before you.

Did you hear him right?

"go.... With you?"

He nodded slightly, dipping his chin to his chest as he watched you. His once toothy smile was replaced with a stoney visage as he waited, unmoving.

You wrung your hands together, casting your eyes up and down the hall. The creeping shadows offered you no cover to escape the question and the weight of his stare was too much to bare.

Thoughts of your family flashed through your mind, playing with the brother in the garden, him helping you hid as your parents called you to dinner.

Crying in his arms the night you lost your parents.

All the fight and fury that had burnt in you faded like a dream. You reached up, pulling the ornate eagle from your hair and placing it gently in the lords palm before stepping back.

"if only I could my lord" you smiled sadly "but my place is here, no matter what I wish otherwise"

The wolf lord looked down at the delicate pin in his hand and rose to feet.

"A shame to see such a fierce thing caged" he sighed, shaking his head slightly "I fear that fire you had is all but burnt out"

He turned away from you and began walking back down the corridor, his bulk melting into the darkness as he prowled away, leaving you alone, listlessly staring as your brief glimpse of freedom stalked into the gloom.

You fell to your knees and gasped, breath hitching in your throat as you choked back a sob.

My place is here

Smut below

Alt ending for going with Russ.

"because I find you amusing, because this place is too tame for you" he paused before continuing gruffly "because looking at you pleases me"

Word list

Ástin min- my love

Godjenta- good girl

Skítja- fenrisian curse word

Unnasta- sweetheart

Kvinna-woman

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺💦💦💦💦🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

You felt a knot tighten in your gut at his words and took a shaky breath. You stepped forward, dancing your fingers along his outstretched palm and smirked slightly when his hand dropped and rested lightly on your waist as you trailed your fingers up his arm, along his shoulder before gently caressing his jaw.

"I please you, my lord?" You muttered softly. His hand twitch on your hip and his jaw clenched as you snaked your hands around his neck, placing a soft kiss against his lips.

"does this please you too" you whispered as you pulled back, combing your fingers though his hair.

"does this?" You leant back in for another chaste kiss.

A low gutteral snarl was all the warning you got as he pulled you forward, your chest flush with his as he caught your lips with his own. You squeaked as you felt a calloused hand squeeze your ass and his tongue pushed into your mouth as you moaned.

Without breaking the kiss, Russ picked you up and spun you, seating you on a wooden storage cabinet and scattering the ornaments on top as he slipped from the kiss to your neck, biting and sucking at your skin as you sighed and tilted to allow him more access. All fears of being caught flew out of your mind, your eyes flew open and your breath hitched as he began to grind himself between your legs, his cock straining against his trousers and you felt his lips turn up into a smile as you whimpered.

Lemans hand snuck around the back of your dress, tugging the bow loose and allowing the shimmering fabric to drop off your shoulders and exposing your breasts. You arched into him and clutched his blonde hair as his mouth moved to your exposed chest, tongue circling your pebbled nipple. His other hand slid up your thigh towards your core, his finger brushing gently across your clit.

He pulled himself away and pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes black with desire as you panted.

"such a pretty voice, Astín mín" he growled, low and deep, sliding in a finger into your wet folds as you squirmed, teeth bared in a feral grin sliding his digit in and out of your wet cunt.

"le.. leman" you gasped as you felt muscles tightening "throne right there" nuzzled into his neck and breathing deep of his woody scent you cried out as you came, his finger working against your insides as he thumbed your sensitive clit.

The wolf pulled back from you, staring down at you hungrily as you sat gasping. His eyes shone in the dark, almost reflective as he admired you, your chest heaving and a faint wet shine on your thighs.

He ran his tongue along his teeth and watched as you slipped off the counter and reached for his waistband, shifting it down to free his dick. His chest rumbled as you looked up at him, doe eyes heavily lidded as you grasped his shaft and pumped it before trailing a wet lick from the base to his tip, lapping at the precum. The noise turned into a heavy beast like growl as you took him in your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue as you continued to hold his gaze, your eyes drifted shut as he stroked your head.

"godjenta...good girl" he hissed softly, placing a hand on your jaw as his hips bucked, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. You pulled away gulping for a breath, a line of spit dripping down your chin as the titan guided you to your feet using a gentle hand on your throat. He walked you backwards until your ass hit cold wood and picked you up, cupping your ass and wrapping your legs around his waist as you balanced on the oaken ledge. You wriggled as you felt him slide his member along the slick lips of your pussy.

"please" you keened, tugging on a coarse braid, trying to pull his closer, all it earned you was a heated laugh and a sharp nip to your collar bone.

"where is that fighting spirit from earlier, kvinna" he continued to rub against you, licking the blossoming bruises along your throat.

Bristling slightly you opened your mouth to reply, only managing a loud "huuuh" as he finally pushed inside you, grunting as he slowly stretched you out with his girth. You arch into him throwing your head back as he slowly bottomed out and tears pricked your eyes as you pushed to your limit. He stilled for a moment, allowing your breathing to even out before he slowly withdrew and thrust back into you.

Your pants and whimpers slowly turned into loud cries as he ground you into the chest, mingled with his grunts and curses as he fucked you.

"Skítja" he cursed breathless as he felt your warmth constrict around him as you peaked "like you were made for me"

You simply nodded, voice lost as you rocked back and forth from the force. You barely acknowledged when he picked you up, gripping your flushed body close to his broad chest as he bounced you on his member, chasing his own end gripped your thighs and ass. You felt his movements becoming uncoordinated and rougher and knew he was so close. You allowed yourself to fall back slightly and cupped his face in both your hands, gently pulling his eyes to meet yours.

"I want it... Inside" you begged breathlessly "my lord, my wolf...leman"

A groan erupted from the man as he came and you shuddered falling forward onto his tunic as you felt him fill you, his hips continued to rut into you as he finished.

You both stilled, the hallway silent but for your heavy breaths and the gentle crackle of open candle flame. Your lips tugged into a contended curve as the wolf lord placed a surprisingly tender kiss to the crown of your head.

"yes" you muttered into the shined leather of his chest.

His mass shifted under you slightly "yes?"

You shivered slightly at his voice, as honey sweet and warm as spiced mjord, still hazed with tones of arousal.

"yes I will come with you"

"you already did, unnasta" he hummed, amused by his own wit, it seemed.

"I meant to fenris" you chuckled back, lightly smacking him.

"I know" he finally slid you off him and gently placed you on the cold floor, sweeping the heavy fur off his shoulders and wrapping you in it, he stroked a thumb across your well kissed lips.

"The Aett can wait a little longer whilst we clean you up...and maybe go again"

[rose24207]

Worth it?

Summary: after a regretful night, Lando realises how much he really messed up and if it was even worth it

TW: cheating, guilt, tears, cursing

Genre: Angst

AN: this is literally my first entry so bare with me. English is not my first language! Hope you like it! And please remember everything I write is not real! Thank you :)

I would love some feedback and requests are open!!

Enjoy :)

Masterlist

You were on your way to your boyfriend’s house, because you hadn’t talked in a while.

You walked up the staircase to knock on his apartment’s door.

But the one who opened wasn’t Lando.

It was another woman, and Lando stood behind her, with his mouth open.

You were speechless.

The woman had blonde hair, that was messy and dressed in Landos shirt. You were confused, heartbroken, sad but also angry.

You didn’t even had the chance to open your mouth as the woman interrupted you.

The woman turned around and looked at Lando with an amused expression on her face.

“Is this…your girlfriend?” She asked him, teasingly. Lando looked away, looking guilty.

“No- She’s just…a friend.” He stutters not really realising what is happening himself.

The woman looked at you with an impressed smile. “Just a friend, hmm?” She asked before chuckling to herself.

You felt angry. Who was this woman and how dare she to taunt you?

She looked you up and down and smirked

'Why the fuck is she smirking?“ you angrily thought.

Exploding, you didn’t even let the homewrecking bitch speak another word.

"Okay, why don’t you get your ass back to your scum of a home where you belong and stop wrecking relationships huh?“ you said with a sarcastic smile on your face.

You didn’t even know how much longer you could control yourself, but you knew it wouldn’t last long.

The blonde now looked furious, and her face went red as she scoffed in anger.

"You have quite the mouth on you for someone who got cheated on.“ she retorted as she took a step forward.

„And whose fault is that?“ you asked spitly.

You looked at Lando again and motioned for him with your head to get rid of her.

Lando, who understood your intention was still silent and looked to the ground again, clearly filled with guilt.

The woman rolled her eyes at him before sighing.

"You made your choice“ she said to him, before turning back to you with as smirk.

"You two have fun.“ she walked past Lando, brushing her hand against his shoulder and arm before walking out of the apartment and closing the door behind her.

The silence in the room was tense as Lando couldn’t even look at you in the eye.

"How could you?“

"I..." He paused, as if searching for the right words to say.

"I don't know." He finally replied.

He let out a deep sigh, biting his lips a little as he tried to calm his nerves.

"I'm just...an idiot, I guess." He admitted before rubbing his face again.

"You're a pathetic excuse of a man, that's what you are. You don't think with your head but with your pants. How could you throw everything away! Was it worth it? One night, to throw 3 years away? You disgust me. Don't you have anything to say?!“ you yelled, filled with rage as you couldn’t believe this was really happening.

'This isn’t real. It’s not real‘ you thought.

He shook his head, and sighed, feeling ashamed by his own actions.

"She...made me feel good." He admitted before looking away once more.

"I don't expect you to get it, but...she made me feel wanted I guess." He said, in a quiet voice.

That statement hurt you deeply. It felt like a dagger straight to the heart.

"Wow.." you breathed out as tears felt down your face.

"Well, thank you. Yes, thank you for making me feel so loved. You deserve eachother. 'Makes you feel good' what does that even mean? Are you kidding me? You couldn't wait? Wait for me to get home. To speak to me? Is that it? You don't love me anymore? That's why you did it right? Why breaking up when humiliation works the fastest way right?"

You were done with this situation. Weren’t you enough? Is that it? What was the problem? You didn’t understand. You couldn’t.

He shook his head as he saw the tears fall down your face.

"No, no. I still care about you...l just...l don't know." He said, rubbing his face.

He didn't have any good answer for you. He felt ashamed and guilty, the weight of his actions crashing down on him.

"Save it. You disgust me. Don't try to contact me. You're dead to me"

He opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it once more.

His heart broke as you said that.

'Dead to me'

What was the point of protesting? You clearly weren't going to forgive him.

So, he just sighed sadly to himself.

"Okay." He said softly, looking down at the ground while crossing his arms.

You couldn’t take it anymore. So you did what many would do. You left.

As you left the apartment, Lando just stood in the hallway, hearing your soft cries outside.

He leaned on the wall and slammed his head on it.

"Damn it!" He cursed under his breath.

He never meant for it to lead to this.

But it did. And now he had lost you forever.

*two years later*

Two years have passed.

Lando was doing well for himself, but the weight of the guilt and the loss of you, still haunted him.

He had been on a few dates with other women, as his friends tried to get him past you. But you were constantly on his mind.

He just couldn't get that night from two years ago out of his mind. It replayed like a movie in his head.

He knew it was his own fault. And he deserved nothing more than to spent the rest of his life regretting this mistake.

Meanwhile you were finally happy again and moved on. Why wouldn’t you? Your life wouldn’t stop because of that night, you decided.

After that night you never believed to find love again.

But you did.

His name was Jude.

At first you thought he wasn’t real, thinking you have finally driven yourself insane but he was real.

Jude had become a great partner and boyfriend for you. He was everything you could ask for, handsome, smart, a gentleman and he made you laugh.

The two of you had been enjoying a lovely date night together, which included a romantic dinner, as you now wandered around the city. You couldn't ask for a better date night.

"Happy one year, my love" you smiled.

Jude beamed at you, smiling wide.

"Happy one year to us."

He took your hand, and brought it to his lips, giving it a soft kiss.

"I can't believe it's been a year already. It feels like we just started dating yesterday." He said.

"Right? I am so grateful for you. You have no idea how happy I am with you by my side." You claimed as happy tears gathered in your eyes, ready to fall.

Jude reached out with his other hand, and wiped away any tears that were on your face.

"I'm the one who should be grateful."

He replied with a warm smile.

Jude wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you in for a hug. He held you tight, and gave you a few soft kisses on the cheek.

"Thank you for everything my love." You smiled.

"Of course. Anything for you." Jude said before cupping your chin in his hand.

He tilted your chin up, and gazed into your eyes lovingly.

"You know how much I love you, right?" He asked in a hushed voice.

You really couldn’t believe how lucky you got.

'This isn’t real. It’s not real' you thought.

You were convinced that you’ve finally gone mad and imagined this. There is no way fate decided to give you another chance at Love.

But it was real

"I love you too-"

The sound of a familiar voice coming from behind you suddenly interrupted your moment with Jude, as it called out your name.

As you turned to look in the direction where the voice came from, you saw the last person you ever wanted to see again.

Lando was standing behind you with a hesitant expression on his face.

"C-can we talk?" He asked quietly.

Jude frowned at the sight of seeing another man talking to you.

But his expression immediately changed once he recognized the man in front of him.

Lando Norris, the ex.

Jude's expression got colder and he held you closer to himself protectively.

"Lando?“

Lando looked from you to Jude, noticing the way Jude held you protectively.

He could tell that you had moved on, and already had another man in your life.

Seeing you with someone else killed him internally, but he understood that he has no right to talk to you after what he did two years ago.

He sighed, giving it one final shot.

"Please...let me apologize." He said, glancing at Jude briefly before focusing back on you.

Jude had a defensive expression on his face, not wanting you to waste your time with your ex who clearly betrayed you.

However, instead of speaking for you, he let you decide.

After two years, the man who shattered, ripped you heart out and stomped on it, stood in front of you, ready to apologise.

After a few seconds of silent thinking, you looked back up at Lando.

His expression was desperate, anxious, guilty, as if he was filled with sorrow, and it showed.

"I'm sorry, Jude just give me a second okay, my love?"

You decided to give your mind peace after two years and kissed Jude on the cheek as a sign of reassurance.

Jude frowned, not wanting to leave you with your ex.

But eventually, after your lovely kiss, he sighed in defeat.

"Okay, my love." He said before giving you another kiss on the forehead.

Jude then walked a few steps away giving you privacy, and glanced at Lando.

"Watch yourself." He warned him, before walking away.

Lando watched as Jude walked away in silence.

He then turned his attention back to you, clearing his throat a little.

"Can we...sit down?" He asked you, referring to the empty bench across from you.

Sighing you walked over to the bench without saying anything.

Lando nodded to himself, and walked over to the bench before sitting next down to you.

He cleared his throat awkwardly before speaking, "You...look good."

He saw how beautiful you looked in that little black dress with Jude’s jacket over it, and it filled him with even more guilt.

That should be him. His jacket around your shoulders as the two of you would go on a date.

"Lando, what is it?“

Your voice snapped him out of his mind.

"I..." He started quietly before pausing.

He felt so nervous and guilty sitting next to you, and it got even harder for him to continue speaking.

He couldn't look you in the eye, and just fiddled with his fingers instead.

"I just wanted to apologize for...for everything." He finally said, referring to the night two years ago.

"Oh, I'm sure. Well, thank you for you to man up after two years, but I think that's a little late don't you think?“

You knew you were a little bit harsh, but he deserved it. After everything you’ve gone through while he got to live his life as if nothing happend?

Yeah, he deserved a little bit more than harsh words.

"I know." He replied quickly, and sighed.

"It's way too late. I don't expect you to forgive me, I just...I wanted to apologize."

He couldn't stop fidgeting with his fingers, and he looked so nervous, he couldn't even sit properly.

You sighend.

This is what you’ve been waiting for.

Just an apology.

And now here it is

"I forgive you."

His eyes widened when you said that you forgive him.

He didn't expect you to say that, not at all. He had prepared for you to yell at him, or call him out. Not forgiveness.

"It doesn’t mean I will ever forget it, but I just want to put it behind me" you explained

"Oh, okay..." He said, a little disappointed but relieved at the same time.

At least you didn't hate him, he thought.

"Well, if that's it then?" You asked, wanting to go back to Jude.

"I..." He paused awkwardly once more, and he bit his lips.

He couldn't bring himself to ask you the question that was sitting on the tip of his tongue.

The question he desperately wanted to ask you.

But he knew it was forbidden.

"Lando? What is is?" You asked, as you noticed his hesitant behaviour.

You’ve dated for 3 years and broke up 2 years ago, but you still knew when something bothered him.

He swallowed hard, feeling nervous but took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

There was no more avoiding it at this point.

So...he asked you.

"Do...do you still love me?"

There. He said it out loud.

The question he felt nervous to ask for two years.

He looked at you, anxiously waiting for your answer.

You looked away.

Why would he ask you this.

You wanted to scream and yell at him, ask him why he came into your life when you were finally happy again.

Instead you sighed.

"Lando, please. It's been two years. I moved on, I bet you have too. What about the little blonde from last time huh? Is she still with you?"

He sighed as you reminded him of the blonde women he had been with.

He saw her just one night, and he hasn't seen her ever since.

He only had one night stands for the past two years because all he could think about was you.

But now, he didn't care about that. He had to get his answer from you.

"I need to know. Please...please be honest." He pleaded in a desperate tone.

"I think a part of me will always cherish our time together. But you have to understand, I'm happy Lando. I have a partner who respects me and talks to me rather than doing his own thing because he wanted to 'feel good'"

He nodded softly, feeling his heart break into even more pieces.

Hearing you admit that a part of you will always cherish your time together, but that he completely lost you, made him feel absolutely devastated and full of regret.

He felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he held it back.

He didn't deserve to shed tears over what he did two years ago.

After all, he was the one who ended it all because of his own selfishness.

He looked away for a moment, and rubbed his face out of frustration.

He hated himself for what he did. He was an idiot and an ass because he threw away something beautiful, all just to feel "good" like you said.

Now, the consequences of his actions slapped him in the face as he sat here next to you.

Jude walked back, after deciding you two had enough time, he stopped in his tracks.

He saw you and Lando talking, with Lando sitting next to you.

Jude immediately frowned, and walked over to you before standing infront of you again, holding your hand.

"Everything alright, my love?" He asked, trying to hold back from glaring at Lando next to you.

"Yes, of course my love, are you ready to go?"

Jude looked between you and Lando, with a concerned expression before focusing back on you.

He smiled softly, before nodding.

"Yes, let's head home." He replied, holding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours.

You stood up from the bench and turned to Lando, probably for the last time.

"Have a good night, Lando."

Lando watched as you gave Jude a soft kiss on the cheek and how jude smiled warmly at you, as you both turned to leave.

He glanced a short second at your interlocked hands before sighing.

He felt an ache in his chest at the realization that your hands, will no longer be holding his again.

But again, he has no one to blame but himself.

"Goodbye…“ Lando whispered.

As soon the both of you were out of his vision, his guilt and sorrow overflowed.

He hunched over a little and covered his mouth with his hand, feeling it shake from guilt.

He couldn't stop himself anymore, and tears finally filled his eyes.

He cried softly to himself, while tears flowed down like a river, making his vision blurry.

Was it really worth it that night two years ago?

AN: thank you for reading! If you have a request please message me!!

[poisonlove]

Miss Ortega | j.o

Parte1

part 2

The new Calculus teacher descended with a small leap from the wooden surface. She walked around the lectern and sat in her chair, getting a better view of the class. She took out a notebook and a pen from her backpack, and with a small smile, she looked at the class.

"Well, now that I've introduced myself, I'd like to know your names and the grade you received in this subject last year."

Starting from the front row, each student stated their name, last name, and grade. Jenna opened her eyes and tried not to show her surprise at the low grades. She smiled nervously many times and looked curiously at those who spoke.

Looking into her eyes, one could almost see the frustration in her iris. With a sigh of exhaustion, the teacher tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

In the blink of an eye, it was my turn. I was the last one. All eyes were looking in my direction, some with curiosity, others with annoyance. I felt uncomfortable; I wasn't used to receiving so much attention. I cleared my throat to steady my voice, taking a deep breath to avoid stuttering in front of the class. I timidly glanced at Jenna, who observed me with curiosity.

She had her elbow resting on the desk, holding her head in the palm of her hand. She gave me a slight smile. Brown eyes piercing my soul.

"I..." I sighed, closing my eyes for a fraction of a second. I could feel all the blood rushing to my cheeks. "T/N T/A, 100," I managed to say who I was and my grade. I gave a nervous smile and hid my flushed cheeks with my hair.

Jenna composed herself and looked at me with surprise. An inevitable smile spread across her lips, almost relieved to have someone who understood even a little bit of her subject. I glanced at Enid, who was smiling at me with mischief. The blonde had something in mind, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to find out what it was. The teacher stood up from her chair, taking a stack of papers from her backpack.

"Well, now that you've told me who you are and your grades... we can have a little test to assess your level," she smiled at us.

Murmurs of disapproval quickly arose, and Johnny, our class president, raised his hand. Jenna nodded, granting him permission to speak.

"Professor, can we do it on Wednesday? Today is the first day of school... and it wouldn't be fair to give us a test right away," he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, avoiding Jenna's penetrating gaze that had wiped the smile off her face. "Would that be possible?" he added, timidly.

"Come on, doll, don't ruin the good impression you gave us," Edward said.

Edward Smith, the most popular guy in school, the future star of the football team. He had a reputation as a womanizer, unafraid to flirt, and it was clear that he had no respect even for those in authority at this school. Professor Ortega blinked her eyes, somewhat incredulous, and then smirked. Her eyes looked at the blonde boy with disgust.

"Smith, right?" Jenna asked absentmindedly, gripping the papers tightly. Her knuckles turned white from the tight grip.

Edward nodded, pleased that she remembered his last name. He looked at his classmates with superiority, almost as if to say that he had the attention of all the girls he desired. Jenna walked towards him, leaning in with a threatening air to his desk.

Her eyes were piercing.

Smith blushed under the deadly gaze of Miss Ortega.

"Do not dare to call me 'doll,' do we understand each other?" Jenna tilted her head to the side, looking at the poor boy with disdain. "Now get out of my class immediately," she pointed towards the door with her index finger. Jenna composed herself and moved away from the desk.

Edward opened and closed his mouth several times, taken aback by the teacher's reaction. He stood up and stormed angrily out of the classroom.

I smiled satisfactorily, that boy was an idiot.

Professor Ortega rolled her eyes, slightly annoyed. She sighed and smiled again. I felt powerless, truly sorry that she had to endure such a comment. From the corner of my eye, I saw Enid fidgeting in her seat.

"After this unfortunate incident... we can continue with the test," she handed out two stacks of papers to those in the front. Once they took their papers, they passed the rest to the people behind them, and so on, until everyone had their test on their desks. "You have exactly..." the professor glanced at her watch, squinting her eyes and furrowing her brow. "1 hour and 30 minutes," she concluded.

I looked at the questions, surprised.

They were too easy, ridiculously so.

There were 5 equations to solve and 1 problem. I looked at the sheet with confusion and raised my head to the dark-haired Jenna. Almost immediately, our eyes met.

My breath stopped, and I tried not to hear the increasing beats of my heart. I raised an eyebrow, unsure if I should take this test as an insult. The teacher looked at me with a smile, enjoying my reaction. She tilted her head to the side, observing me with clear curiosity, while also keeping an eye on her students for any signs of cheating.

I shook my head and looked at my paper, feeling the frustration of Enid, who was seated next to me. I put the bottom of the pen between my teeth and focused on answering the questions, occasionally feeling the piercing gaze of those two coffee-colored eyes.

[mqverick]

diet mountain dew || ꕤ

“Baby, stoppin' at 7-Eleven

There in his white Pontiac heaven.”

───────── ˚｡⋆ ( ၴႅၴ ⟡ ─────────

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

Daniel was looking at you with the smuggest smirk you’d ever seen on a man’s face before. His eyes were burning into yours, glistening under the light as he stared at you, his mouth slightly agape. You tried not to gulp as the question echoed in your ears, face hot and flustered.

You never thought you’d find yourself outside of Daniel Kaffee’s door, contemplating whether to knock on his door or not. You’d always had the first word with him, ever since the moment he burst in your office with that stupid apple of his.

He’s looked like an idiot then and he looked like an idiot now, all proud of himself, looking at you — forcing you to use the actual words you’d been practicing and itching to say to him for God knows how long. It was deeply humiliating.

“No,” you simply and coldly replied, but your voice weakened by the end of the two-lettered word.

“It sounded like you were asking me out on a date,” he argued, crossing his arms as he took a few steps closer to you, ignoring the baseball game on the television that played uninterrupted in the background. He slyly raised his eyebrows as if he was questioning your previous ‘no’.

You stood there robotically, fumbling with the end of your thin jacket as you avoided eye contact with Daniel, knowing very well that your knees would buckle under just one look from him.

“I wasn’t,” you continued firmly.

“Mm,” Daniel hummed, his face so close to yours that you swore he was asking to get roughly hit in the balls. You were a woman with dignity and respect, though, you had to be stronger than that. God, you were aware of the fact that he had one of the most self-absorbed, cocky personalities, but when had he gotten like that? “I’ve been asked out on dates before, and that’s what it sounded like.”

Regretting your life’s choices should’ve been a paid occupation for you at that point. You wondered what came over you, thought hard about the nerve in your burnt brain that screamed and cried for you to get up from the bed, have a good day and then ruin it all by finally gathering the courage to go alone to Daniel’s place and talk to him about something that wasn’t related to the case. Ask him out on a fucking date like the desperate, little, touch starved loser you were.

Men had been going after you, begging for a chance since forever… yet, there was Daniel.

Daniel Kaffee, who had graduated from law school a year ago, had gotten in the Navy freshly — around nine months ago — who was so admirably impressive and intelligent and a whole person of his own. Daniel, who couldn’t come to a realisation without his thinking bat.

How had you fallen so hard in love with him?

“Do you like seafood? I know a good seafood place,” you blurted out, mentally kicking and cursing yourself for how stupid you’d sounded.

“I’ll tell you if you admit you’re asking me out.”

You weren’t going to, not even if he held a gun to your forehead and threatened your life. He did not need that kind of boost for his ego, nor did you care for getting embarrassingly paralysed in front of him after the smile he’d give you in case you actually did convince yourself to admit that this was your horrible aspect of asking him on a date.

“N-Not a date,” you stuttered, hating yourself.

“The sweat forming on your forehead says otherwise.” He snickered when you hurriedly snatched your hand from your jean’s pocket to wipe the non existent sweat off your face. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. You know, I really wouldn’t say no to going out with you.”

“Well, you’re not. I just want to grab some dinner with my colleague is all. Will you come or should I get going? It’s late, they’ll close soon.”

You eventually gathered the courage to breathe, backing away from him as you headed towards the door, placing your hand on the handle. Daniel snatched you back by the arm, catching you off guard as you silently cried, mind short-circuiting after noticing how much closer he’d pulled you to him. His grip was strong on your elbow, fingers tightly pressing into your warm, reddening skin.

“Are you dismissing me?”

You cocked your head to the side.

“What?”

“I want to go on a date with you. Do you want to go on a date with me?” Fuck, he was killing you. You were an exceptional lawyer, distinguished, had even won service medals. And all of that just vanished, the words dying in your throat, just because Kaffee was holding you so painfully close to him that part of your mind subconsciously dared you to move your head just an inch further into him, invade completely his personal space.

“I…” you began, but trailed off, seeing as you were truly incapable of understanding what was going through your blinded head in that moment. Had his eyes always been so dazzlingly green and big? Had Daniel always looked so unbelievably pretty?

“I didn’t even know you liked me. I mean, if you like me. I won’t make you say it — I just want to know if you’re asking me out on a date. Which is sort of like asking you if you like me, so that automatically cancels out what I just said.”

Daniel was getting nervous as well. Both of you were so utterly fucked with each other, but none ever spoke about it out loud without jokingly throwing flirtatious innuendos. He was done with just guessing how you felt about him, though, decided to take the matter into his own hands if you didn’t have the guts to make a move first.

He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost you to another man just because his stupidity was too much of an obstacle to overcome. Died in silence every time he had to say goodbye or goodnight to you wherever you had to leave his apartment after judging that you’d all conversated enough about the case. Daniel knew that you had to be feeling something for him — even if that was a tiny spark.

All the secret glances, the way you commanded and spoke to him, the contained smiles; they had to mean something right? But why weren’t you trying anything with him? He thought he made it pretty obvious that he felt the same way about you, had been feeling like that for a long time.

He knew you knew.

“Danny, can you let — fuck, I can’t breathe when you hold me so close to you,” you accidentally confessed, eyes bulging the moment your words played loudly rent free in your brain right after they so easily and boldly left out of your mouth.

“You can’t?” he repeated softly, in awe as he tried to comprehend what you’d just said. “You can’t — you can’t say stuff like that to me and then tell me that you don’t want to ask me on a date. You can’t do that — you can’t fuck like that with my mind.”

You jerked away from him, brows furrowing.

“Me? I can’t say stuff like that to you? You’d known me only 12 hours when you told me you were sexually aroused. You’ve been looking at me as if I’m some sort of grand lawyer, like I amaze you or something — you know how hard it is for me to keep a fucking professional stance around you?” you were shouting for no reason now, practically admitting your feelings for him due to the anger that had fogged your brain.

Daniel closed his eyes in wonder, then looked at you dumbfounded. “What?” Fuck. “What did you just say?” he repeated hesitantly.

“Nothing.”

“No, don’t give me that bullshit. I thought you hated me. I always try so hard to impress you and I’m so afraid that I’ll do something wrong or offend you in some way I won’t even realize and you… You feel the same way about me?”

The question fell off his lips like he was terrified of the answer you’d give him. And it was true; he was, beat himself up for how little confidence he had around you even though his actions showed the opposite. He’d been melting for you.

Was captivated by your determination, the way you could make him feel so worthless just by giving him a weird look. Scary?

To Daniel, you were divine.

“I—I don’t feel a certain way about you, Danny.”

“You kill me,” he rushed to comment, cutting you off the second his nickname was mentioned. “Every single time you call me that, a small part of me dies. That sounds horrible, I didn’t mean it that way. You know how it feels to walk in a courtroom for the first time?”

You nodded with a slight chuckle. “Yeah, I do. I could never forget. Do you?”

“Because of you, I do. If you weren’t so damn stubborn and annoying, I couldn’t even dream of it. When I walked inside, my legs were trembling. It was a confusing, but beautiful feeling.”

Your knees were bucking — what was he doing?

“Fuck you, Kaffee,” you muttered under your breath, running a hand through your hair.

“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying. Fuck me. Fuck me, Commander, I’m already yours. I have been ever since you listed my entire life in front of my very own eyes, then proceeded to threaten my position in the case. How can you not know that? How can you act so surprised when the only reason why I keep calling both you and Sam at my place repeatedly every day is because I believe that there couldn’t possibly be any way I’d ever see you in my little, humble apartment under any other circumstances? Don’t you think we could’ve perfectly arranged another meeting spot?”

You’d lost touch with the environment. Daniel’s eyes looked as though he was about to burst into tears; all glassy and red, holding back a million words and emotions that he’d so successfully held back for such a long time, that they almost didn’t even feel real. He had to be kidding you.

“Is it too late to ask you on a date, then?”

Daniel let out a sigh of relief, a gorgeous smile cracking on his lips as he finally shut the game on the television off, moving dangerously toward you. He cupped his hands over your cheeks and pulled you tightly into him, capturing your lips with his own after what felt like ages. His eyes were forcefully closed, afraid of opening them and waking up to what could be just another dream. But no, this was reality, he decided after he discreetly opened them just an inch to make sure that the person he was smushing was real.

You weren’t kissing him back, though, and it made him pull away, feeling like a complete fool. Had he misread anything again, had he done something wrong? Had his hurried intrusive thought to kiss you been too much?

“I’m really sorry, I—”

Embarrassment welled up inside of him as he stared down at your feet, his mind still unable to process the taste of your lips as it barely even functioned for any other reason; talking like a normal person, for example. Harvard lawyer, they said. Lawyer his ass. What kind of lawyer was ever known to get so tongue tied in a situation?

“Your lack of response to my question makes me believe that you haven’t truly been asked out on any dates before,” you eventually spoke, opting to break the silence with sarcasm, just like it had always been between the two of you.

You pressed your mouth against his this time, smirking nobly as you heard him take a sharp inhale. You walked backwards, forcing him to do the same, then pushed him against the outside arm of his pathetic couch, causing him to fall.

You wasted no time with getting on top of him, straddling his lap firmly as your back arched on top of him, making the kiss get profoundly deeper and wetter as tongues got involved. You’d never been French-kissed like that (or in general, ) — your head felt like it would explode.

Daniel wasn’t skilled just as a lawyer. He was awfully good at kissing, sending you over the edge just by adding a little extra saliva in the kiss and letting his hands roam freely in your back, pulling you closer and closer to his scorching body. His soft brunet hair softly brushed against your forehead as he titled his head for a better angle and you could almost feel yourself die.

He winced when his bat dug into his back and the miserable sound he made caused you to moan.

“Are — Are you going to ask me out?”

You ignored him, grasping on his shoulders as you accidentally ground against his crotch, losing your mind and grip over yourself when you felt his semi-erection rub just the right away over your jeans and panties, your wet core clenching around absolutely nothing disappointedly.

“Let’s go to the seafood place, yeah?” you exclaimed against his mouth.

“As a date?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

You untangled yourself from him, still neatly seated on his legs as if you couldn’t feel him flush and hard, aching to be freed from his trousers.

“You know I’m very intimidated by you, right?”

Daniel gave you a peck on the before getting up to sit normally on the couch. “I do not, Ma’am.”

“Shut up.”

“Pretty impressive, huh?” he mocked, just like he’d said to you the first time you met. God, you really, deeply hated his self-absorbed guts. But you loved him. Loved him like crazy.

“I changed my mind.”

“About what?”

“I don’t want to go out to eat.”

Daniel’s face dropped when you got up from the couch and began putting your jacket back on. He’d messed up, he’d messed up, he’d messed up… Fuck him and how he never thought before doing. You were going to leave him, of course you were. You were scared of how fast he’d moved.

Except you really weren’t, you just really found joy into toying with his lowered remaining patience.

“What?” he asked, nearly like a whisper.

“I’ll see you at court tomorrow at 10. Don’t be fucking late, Lieutenant, or I’ll just might have to cancel the dinner reservations I’m planning. Up until then, you’ll do well with your very manly and grown up Yoo-Hoos,” you walked up to his door, feeling your heart beat rapidly in your chest as the corner of your eye caught him almost stumbling into the coffee table in his hurry to get to you.

“Is it going to be a—”

“And before you ask, yes, it’s a date.”

FIN.

@honeymvnt 𝜗𝜚

[maybege]

How It All Started

Summary: Things between you and your roommate, Paz, escalate.

Pairing: roommate!Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, Free Use Arrangement AU, Roommate AU, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, (un)requited pining, dom!Paz, sub!Reader, Paz is an idiot in love (they both are), little bit of jealous Paz

Hello hello, my loves, and welcome to the start of a brand new series! This will be a drabble series with no strung-together plot but just the opportunity to dabble in this universe whenever I feel like it. We get to explore some different kinks and all the goodness and fluff of a Paz romance. If you are liking the idea of roommate!Paz paired with a Free Use AU, I can guarantee that you will absolutely fall in love with The Roommate Agreement by @bitchin-beskar. As always also a shoutout to @mostly-megan who lets me brainstorm literally months before I put anything on the page.

Without further ado, I present to you the introductory part of The Adventures of Apartment 23C. Please let me know what you think in a reblog or a comment!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

gif by @casian

Paz never saw himself as a dom.

Yeah, sure, he liked to be in charge in the bedroom and in previous relationships he’d never been shy to venture into a kinkier direction but overall, he wouldn’t call himself a dom. Hell, he didn’t even know what half of the stuff meant that some of his more adventurous friends threw around. No, for all intents and purposes, Paz would put himself in the category “normal” – whatever that was supposed to mean.

But one Thursday night, he found himself googling “free use meaning” and realized that if he were to tell Boba about what he might’ve gotten himself into, even his most experienced friend would be impressed. So, how had it come this?

It was all your fault, really. Well, kind of.

Maybe not at all.

*

You had been his roommate for a little over two years now.

Stars, he liked the way your body moved, liked the dips and the curves and your smile and how your eyes shone when you smiled and how you were such a tease because you trusted him. When he first met you, his first impression had been that you were a little … stuck-up, maybe, reserved certainly. And to be honest, you still weren’t super open and outgoing even around your friends.

But you were with him.

You flashed him your panties, called out his big dick energy (not without a nervous stutter, though, which made him grin every time), asked him for advice on dates and complained. Really, it was like any normal friendship. Only that he wanted to fuck you. And when you flashed him your panties one time too many, he was sure you wanted him to fuck you too.

Which he did.

It was more of an accident, really.

It was 3 pm on a Sunday evening, everything was nice and quiet and he was watching a football game when you came out of your room. You were wearing a little silk robe. One, that Paz feverishly tried not to gawk at and instead pretended to have his eyes on the game.

“I need your opinion on something,” you announced shyly, leaning against the doorframe, “As a man.”

Man opinion, he scoffed internally, already feeling his cock twitch because he knew you were about to show him something that would haunt him in his dreams. But he nodded anyway because he was a lovesick idiot who would do anything to just get a glimpse of your bare skin.

And so, you revealed the most delicate baby pink lingerie set made out of lace. His throat got uncomfortably dry and he couldn’t even focus on the point his team made because you were turning around, popping out your ass, posing for him and stars he wanted to feel the weight of your tits in his palms.

“What about it?” He asked gruffly, trying so hard not to sound as jealous as he was.

“Do you think Dreks will like it?” you asked and he hated how genuinely insecure you sounded.

Dreks was the ultimate asshole, of that he was sure. He’d only met the guy once when he had come to pick you up for a date (35 minutes late, which meant that Paz had seen you pacing and worrying for 35 minutes and it broke his heart) and if he’d never had to see him again it’d still be too many encounters.

Dreks was someone you had worked with briefly, a kind of department hopper in your company, someone who thought himself to be more important than he was and who, in turn, was quick to treat people who did not deserve it like absolute trash. Paz had no idea what you found so interesting about your colleague that it deserved a third date.

But before he could rein himself in, the words were already out of his mouth. “You’re not wearing that,” he said, matter-of-factly. He wanted to chide himself immediately because who was he to decide what you wore? Who was he to decide who you dated?

But there was something in your eyes and the way your shoulders relaxed that kind of gave him the impression that maybe … maybe you liked that.

“Oh?” you went quiet, your fingers toying with the thin strap of your bra and Paz allowed himself to really look at you. The lace of the bra was so delicate you might as well have worn nothing and his cock twitched when he realised he could see your nipples through the fabric. He could see so much and yet so little and his mind immediately imagined what it would feel like to run his thick fingers under the cups of the brad, teasing your nipples until you would beg him to take it off and –

“Don’t you want me to wear pretty things?”

He groaned, your sweet voice like heaven in his ears and stars did you even know what you were saying? Did you know what that did to him?

And then you took a few steps closer and his legs opened and you stepped in between and stars, you were so fucking close and he was so hard. When your knee brushed against the inside of his thigh, he could feel his cock twitch.

“Yeah,” he said, reaching out his hand and putting it on your hip, “But only for me.”

He couldn’t really remember what happened then. Only that, minutes later, you were folded underneath him, writhing as he pushed his cock inside you.

“Paz,” you sighed dreamily and he swore he fell in love with the sight of your pussy stretching around his girth, “Paz, you’re so big.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothed you, “just relax for me, yeah?”

You nodded eagerly, head tilted back as the sun fell over your face and he, for all intents and purposes, fucked you into the couch. He was still half dressed, his shirt thrown over the couch and his jeans barely pulled down to his hips. Your panties were still hanging on your ankles and he had not managed to get you out of that bra. Though he did not mind because you still looked like a dream come true.

You felt like a dream too, your walls hot and wet and clenching so tight around him. And then there was the way, you melted into him, you listened to him. Everything he said, you did. You were pliant and eager and so lovely and when he teased you about coming inside “that pretty little pussy”, you actually came right on his cock, overwhelmed tears streaming down your face as you begged him to “please do it, Paz, please please please”.

He came harder than ever before, his cock pumping you full and it satisfied something deep inside him to see the way his come leaked down your thighs and how you opened your mouth for him when he scooped your combined release up, dropping it onto your tongue.

The “good girl” that slipped from his tongue just felt like natural progress, then.

*

After a few (excruciating) days of not talking to you, Paz realized that as much as he had avoided you, you had avoided him. But hearing your muffled cries, there was no more time to be a coward.

“Are you okay?” he asked, feeling a little awkward standing in your doorway. But he also could not not talk to you. You were one of the most important people in his life, literally, a person he shared his life with.  

“It’s over between me and Dreks,” you sobbed while hugging a pillow to your chest, “Th-That asshole better never show his face again.”

His heart felt a little lighter, knowing that Dreks was officially out of the picture. Though a much bigger part of him was furious at the man for leaving you in such a state.

“Oh,” he shifted on his feet, “Do, uh, do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “I just feel so humiliated and – and stupid and he – I – “

Paz sat down on your bed, knowing you well enough to know that you wanted to talk about it. He sat down, his hands fishing the pillow from your grasp and pulling you into his arms. He could immediately feel you relax, your face nuzzling into his chest.

“I found something was missing in … in our relationship,” you revealed and he hummed, “And when he mentioned becoming exclusive, I asked him if he’d be willing to, uh, indulge me, he laughed at me.”

Paz could not shake the feeling that that missing piece was something rather intimate which already had him panicked thinking of how to steer the conversation in a more appropriate direction. Stars knew if he thought too long about you in any intimate setting he’d get hard as a rock.

Especially now that he knew what you felt like, that he knew what you sounded like, that he knew how pliant you were for him. But then he heard the pain in your voice, how beaten down you felt and he knew there was only one solution.

“I’m gonna beat that son of a bitch to a pulp,” he muttered and stood up. Dreks had always been on thin ice anyway but upsetting you was the last straw. That meagre man would live his last moments in fear, regretting every time he had treated you with disrespect.

“No, please,” your hands wrapped around his bicep and pulled him back down. And he let himself be pulled because it was you. And there was nothing he would not do for you. You were much closer now, still sniffling a little and he became highly aware of how you were only wearing a large t-shirt, your bare legs tangled around his.

“How dare he treat you like that?” he demanded gruffly, “Not liking something is one thing but, uh, shaming you for something you’d like? That’s just an asshole move.”

You nodded eagerly. “It is,” you agreed quietly, splaying your fingers until your fingertips brushed over his jaw, “It just went to show what I was too scared to admit to myself.”

Paz hummed, relishing in your touch. He angled himself towards you, heart skipping a beat in what suspiciously felt like …. hope. “And that is?”

“That we weren’t all that compatible all along,” you whispered, “I have, uh, I have needs and I deserve someone who, uh, who fulfils them.”

“Needs, hm?” he teased you, running his nose along your exposed throat and hearing your breath shudder did things go him, “that wouldn’t have anything to do with what happened in the living room the other night?”

“Maybe a little,” you breathed, your hand wandering up to the back of his neck and you tilted your head, offering yourself to him and stars how did he get so lucky?

“Have you, um, have you ever heard of free use?” you asked him shyly, gasping when he planted a slow kiss on your neck.

He shook his head, still nipping at your skin.

When you did not say anything more, he pulled away.

“Well, it’s, uh,” you took a deep breath, avoiding his gaze and instead looking at the far-right corner of the ceiling, “it’s something that really interests me. And … if you’re amenable, I’d like to try that. With you.”

He still didn’t say anything.

“You know, like a friends-with-benefits kind of thing?”

“Hm.”

He knew he should probably say more and he did want to assure you that he wanted to do that. With you. Hell, yes.

But for some reason, all he could do was stare and awe at your courage, at your confidence, at how you were sitting there in your lounge outfit and still looked like the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Stars, he really wanted to make you come again.

“Let me,” he cleared his throat, sitting up and spreading his legs which was not something he was aware of until he saw your eyes drift to his crotch and there it was again – that cocky continence that popped up whenever he saw you a little flustered. “Let me do some research, sweetheart, and we will talk about it some more, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled shyly, untangling yourself from him though he still followed you like a puppy when you pulled him to the kitchen, “Dinner?”

*

And that was how he found himself in front of his laptop, reading some explanatory article on free use and getting hard as a rock at the idea that you wanted that with him. But if there was one thing he knew it was that he would make you come several times a day if he only got the chance.

[eldritch-spouse]

I am the most flirty, hypersexual, touchy mf you'll ever meet. I'll flirt with Krulu or Kaly without a hint of fear for fuck sake.

But if Santi, Vesper or Lacai entered the room? (I was going to say Nena as well but I feel like on first impression she would be very shy and sweet, which would give me the confidence to flirt like the filth I am)

WHEW.

You would never see stuttering like mine.

Idk why but as soon as I can sense someone who can match my whoreness or out-whore me I instantly become a shy lil mf who stands in the corner or hides behind objects and people to escape attention. Mother forbid if they tried to talk to me or even BREATHE in my vicinity, I'd combust.

Maybe I'm just a little pum pum who is shared of some hot competition.

Knowing Santi tho he'd probably find my pathetic display hot. Or maybe he'd be dissapointed that all that bravado was a sham.

[So you can dish it out but you can't take it, huh?]

Oh they'll sniff you out very quickly.

Lacai, little shit that he is, might intentionally tone himself down initially so that you're not immediately put into a "freeze"/"fawn" sort of state. He wants to enjoy some of that whorish banter with you before gradually upping the ante and watching you start to scramble to keep your bravado intact. He'll laugh and feign concern when you begin stammering, touches and words extremely deliberate while the imp promises to lead you somewhere quieter because you're clearly overwhelmed. Poor thing, he'll make it better.

Santi really needs to calm himself down. He was ready to put you back in your place, because you don't just out-whore him wherever he is, yet his intimidating intent deflates the moment you start tripping over yourself like an idiot. Aaaand he's hard. Which means he's going to hover very close to you and tease you about how friendly you were being before. What happened, love? Don't tell Santi you don't like him. You'll just hurt his feelings...

Vesper doesn't let you weasel out. Whether it's an arm, his head tendril or tail, you're getting pulled right up against him for some simple conversation. Take all the time you want to stutter and squirm on his lap, the King finds your attitude very endearing, and he wants you to show more of it to him. A little bit of courage can be afforded to you via the pheromones he keeps pumping out and the teasing little kisses he peppers across your face and neck. Don't be shy now, Vesper knows you can show him that side...

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Hiii, how are you doing?? Just wanted to say I really am looking forward to oll!! I was hoping you’d drop a little jaw dropping spoiler? Pretty please 🥺

Hello my lovely I am so sorry it’s taking so long 😭 but it’s getting there I promise you and I have some special treats in this chapter to make up for it (which might go well or … taste sour depending on where you stand with this relationship and dynamic)

Just because I absolutely love you to pieces I am willing to offer you the whole first scene under the cut if you want to read it, or if you want to wait you don’t have to 💜 the choice is yours

Namjoon wasn’t all that impressed with seeing the Chief of police visiting his cell, the syndicate boss was dressed too well to belong there, it was almost an eyesore. A glance to the camera, the normal red blinking light absent tells him all he needs to know. There were no eyes or ears to this conversation.

“I thought I paid you to keep your men in line,” Namjoon says in lieu of greeting. “Was a bullet to the knee not warning enough for your dear Captain?”

“He wasn’t an issue when I spoke to him, the man was on leave!” the chief replied. “Your girl was the problem he-”

“Be very careful how you finish that sentence,” he advised with a deep angry rumble from his chest. “I am well aware who is at fault here, and regardless of what our little love does, she is never to blame.”

Chief Lee Soo-man only nods once, biting back his complaints.

“I asked you to sort out Kim Suho, I told you to keep him in check,” Namjoon growls. “Keeping your pockets full isn’t an act of charity Lee, it’s a purchase. I own you.”

“Yes sir,” he mumbles in response. “I assure you this arrest is just a formality, the case won’t stand once it’s revealed Detective L/n-”

The glare the man in the blazerless three piece suit gave him was enough to stop him in his tracks. Right, he couldn’t involve you in this, that was going to make things harder than they needed to be.

“What do you recommend then sir?” he asks when he finds his voice and wavering courage.

Namjoon sighs harshly, and the Chief swears he can almost see smoke.

“I want to be alone with my little love,” it’s not a request, the chief didn’t let the soft lilt of his fool him.

“I don’t know how that would be poss-”

“I want,” Namjoon cuts in, unable to bear another second of this blithering idiot, “her to be the one to interrogate me. And I can trust you understand the rest.”

“Y-yessssir,” he stutters, not completely hearing the words between the lines, and that was clear enough on his face.

“I want her alone, Sooman,” Namjoon repeats himself, if this were one of his men he would never have needed to. “I don’t want a single soul witness to what I’m going to do to her.”

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 18.1 - devil woman

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (angst, language, graphic sexual content)

Word Count: 1600

A/N: *fun, dirty, fluffy ;)

☾

I've had nothing, but bad luck Since the day I saw the cat at my door So I came into you sweet lady Answering your mystical call

☾

May 16, 1984 - junior year

Neither of you could sleep that night after vandalizing Higgins' house. Maybe it was the thrill of breaking the law, or maybe it was the thrill of sneaking your boyfriend into your room.

The more time that went on, the more you realized just how much you loved disobeying rules and keeping little secrets to yourself. Eddie's risky, unpredictable behavior was gradually rubbing off on you.

Regardless, you could never get enough of spending time with Eddie, talking to him for hours about random shit. 

"Didn't you tell me a while back that your parents wouldn't let you have a lock on your door?"

Eddie laid beside you, interlocking his bandaged fingers with yours. You chuckled to yourself at his question. Turning on your side to look at him, you memorized every detail of his face, even in the darkened bedroom. 

You looked at him nearly every day, and still you couldn't help it. The idea of ever forgetting this beautiful face was a rotten intrusive thought that crossed your mind, like the flashing, haunted memories of a bad dream.

Pushing away any unwelcome worries, you traced a finger over the tattoo on his bare chest.

"Yeah, they used to be like that. Before my mom left."

The brown eyed boy, half naked in your bed, lifted an eyebrow at you. "Who installed the lock?"

"I did."

"Really?"

"Is it that hard to imagine a woman using a screwdriver?"

Eddie snorted, running a hand down his face. "No, that's not what I meant. I don't know. I've never installed a lock before. I guess I'm just constantly impressed by you."

You didn't immediately respond to his compliment, choosing instead to stare at him quietly, blushing like an idiot at his words.

But then you were suddenly reminded of Eddie's surprise party you had planned that upcoming weekend.

"What are you doing this weekend? Saturday night?"

He pretended to think for a moment, humming to himself. "Oh, you know, the usual… I have a few cars lined up to throw some fireworks at… Hopper even said he might join me. And then I was thinking of following in my dad's footsteps and selling some drugs since I got kicked out of sch-"

"Eddie!" you hissed at him, pinching the pale skin of his ribcage. 

"Ow! Sorry! Bad joke, too soon." Eddie rolled over to face you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I have Hellfire Club on Friday night. I'm all yours on Saturday."

You inched closer to him. "My dad is going out of town this weekend," you mumbled, reaching a hand slowly towards his boxer shorts. "You can come stay the night here again. I kind of like harboring fugitives in my bedroom."

His breath hitched as you made contact with his cock through the thin fabric. 

"I… uh," the boy stuttered, grabbing onto your waist. "I'm not exactly a fugitive. Just a criminal."

You kissed him gently at first, trying to draw him in closer, if possible. You could tell by Eddie's heavy breathing and the hardness between his legs that he enjoyed your indirect touch, your short nails just slightly skimming his most sensitive parts through the shorts.

Eddie twitched when you grabbed his length completely. His hands roamed your chest, pushing up your loose shirt. 

The feeling of his teeth on your nipples was one of your favorite things - Eddie was almost always focused on pleasure, not so much pain. But when it came to your breasts, he seemed to be an animal unhinged, biting you, leaving love marks on the undersides of them. 

You had always been a little self-conscious about your breasts, but the man in your arms now made you feel like every flaw you ever thought you had, was actually perfection in disguise.

You had to stifle the noises that threatened to leave your mouth when he bit you roughly. You pulled down his shorts, giving into your complete need for him. Eddie must have felt it, too, because he lifted his hips without hesitation to allow you to undress him.

"I don't have a condom," he mumbled against your skin, the tips of his fingers already inside of you.

"That's fine."

You crawled onto him, straddling him, purposely pressing your damp panties against his cock.

Eddie's face held a playful smile, his hands pulling at the elastic of your underwear. "Umm... are you crazy? I'm not about to risk it for the biscuit." 

You leaned forward, laying a small kiss to his jaw.

"I wasn't asking you to risk anything."

Your kisses trailed lower… past the tattoo on his chest, past the birthmark near his hip bone that you had memorized like the back of your hand.

"I figured…" you dug your nails into his thighs, making him gasp. "I figured I kind of owe you after all your hard work earlier."

You winked at him, and then took him into your mouth. 

"Oh, fuck."

☾

Crystal ball on the table Showing the future, the past Same cat with them evil eyes And I knew it was a spell she cast

☾

After a few hours of sleep that night, you successfully flung Eddie out of your bedroom window so he could make his grand escape. 

He had arranged for Gareth and his older brother to pick him up around the corner, away from Richard Buckley's oblivious presence downstairs.

You entered the kitchen casually, grabbing a coffee mug and pouring yourself some of the hot, dark liquid. You tried to ignore the pleasure you felt from your sore breasts as they made contact with the fabric of your sweater, memories of your fun night with Eddie still clear in your mind.

Your daydreaming didn't last long, though. 

"So, I see that you brought my truck back in one piece."

Shit.

You choked on your coffee, not realizing that your father was in the doorway. His arms were crossed with the daily paper tucked under them. 

"Dad! I can explain." You put down the mug, holding your hands up in front of you. "Let me explain."

He glared at you for a moment, and didn't let you continue. "What explanation do you have? That is my work truck, young lady, not some beat up car you can take for a joyride in the middle of the night."

You tried to rack your brain for an excuse, or even how your father knew you left last night at all. He was a notoriously heavy sleeper. But you didn't have to wonder for long as your dad kept talking, his face turning red with anger.

"Kate woke in the middle of the night and saw the truck pulling back in the driveway. She claims that there were three people coming back into the house. So help me God, girl, if you brought that hellion into my home…"

Shit, shit, shit.

And then the voice of your savior sounded from the stairs. 

"That was my friend… Ashley," Robin said with unexpected confidence. "Long, brown, curly hair? Yeah, her parents were fighting last night so I wanted to go pick her up."

Richard Buckley was ten times more likely to believe Robin over you. It had always been that way, stemming from you ditching church on Sundays in your freshman year and becoming permanent the day you discovered his affair. He was never one to hide the fact that Robin was his favorite daughter.

He sighed, pressing down the sparse patch of hair on the top of his shiny head.

"You should have asked me first, Robin."

"We didn't want to wake you," Robin replied simply, passing him in the doorway and making her way to the fridge for orange juice. "C'mon, sis, we're about to miss the bus."

On your way to the bus stop on the corner, you squinted through your sunglasses at the morning sun. Your younger sister strolled beside you, blue eyes amused.

"Did you and Ashley have fun last night?" she said with a grin, voice heavy with insinuation.

"Oh, yeah, she's quite a lovely girl."

☾

She's just a devil woman With evil on her mind Beware the devil woman She's gonna get you

☾

"Well, well. Look who it is, the lucky man of the hour," Gareth bumped fists with Eddie as he leapt into the car.

"Thanks for the ride, fellas. I couldn't stick around there much longer. Hell hath no fury like a dickhead father scorned."

Gareth's older brother, Taron, bumped fists with him too. "Don't sweat it, I have to drive this little shit to school anyways." He was a year or two older than Eddie and one of the original members of the Hellfire Club. 

Ignoring his brother's rude remark, Gareth craned his neck towards Eddie in the backseat. "So… details?"

The Munson boy's face was stone cold. "Since when do I give you any details?"

"Well, I have to live vicariously through someone until Chrissy Cunningham notices me," Gareth explained, fiddling with the dials on the radio. "Plus, your girlfriend's kinda hot."

Eddie let out a bark of genuine laughter. "Chrissy and Jason have been together since, like, kindergarten. Keep dreaming, big boy."

Then he smacked Gareth on the back of the head. "And that's for calling my girl kinda hot. When, obviously, she is really hot."

☾

I drank the potion she offered me I found myself on the floor Then I looked in those big green eyes And I wondered what I'd came there for

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Devin Woman" by Cliff Richard)

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[thelightningthatjumpsbetween]

Chapter Two

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Sequel of Winters and the Beast, a Resident Evil: Village Story

Table Of Contents

Several months earlier

The party continued on in the lagoon under them, while Ethan and Heisenberg looked on from a nearby ledge.  The small “just in case of Miranda” fire had grown into a veritable bonfire, and the celebration into something magical with Eva’s presence. 

Still, Ethan found himself lost in his own looping thoughts, silent as he pondered.  He could feel the heartbeat of the Mutamycete from here, could slip easily back and forth into the liminal space, where black threads of mycelium coated the landscape.  Something had changed with Eva’s arrival.  The Mold felt….sad, he decided.  

Which in turn made him wonder what awaited them all next.  As Zoe carried the finally-sleeping Rose on her shoulder, rocking her, Ethan worked up the courage to ask Heisenberg one of many questions he often choked down out of fear.  

“Why did you take Rose?  Was it to…use her against Miranda?”

Surprised, Karl turned toward him, tipping his head back in that theatrical Heisenberg way.  He looked at Ethan curiously, as if impressed with the question, but hesitant to anger the blond.  With one grey-brown eyebrow arched, the engineer responded with a thoughtful, “No….”

Like all his words, it dipped down, then up.  Ethan’s pout twisted into a skeptical smirk and he raised an eyebrow of his own.  This surprised Karl, who grinned back wolfishly.  

So Karl was going to make him ask more questions.�� Fine. 

“Was it to convince me to stay?”

Karl scoffed, and then jerked one shoulder up in a half-shrug.  

“Considerin’ you grabbed her an’ tried to run….no.”  

At this, Ethan raised both of his eyebrows and nodded.  True.  He’d been vicious upon awakening, disgusted at what had happened to his body, disgusted at everything that he was, let alone everything he thought about the Lord.  To see him with his daughter…

His amused expression evened and Ethan gazed down at the crowd for another moment, planning his next question.  But then Karl surprised him, speaking first.  

“Wasn’t about her, wasn’t even….” intentional, was what he’d planned to say.  But that wasn’t true.  Karl had been considering taking the child as soon as he breached the holdover facility, some no-name hospital in an armpit of Hungary, where the BSAA team was on holdover with their “cargo” including the BOW soldiers that Redfield had, er….commandeered. 

In fact, the team was so focused on that, that Karl had easily infiltrated the area.  No, Rose was never the goal.  But she was on his mind. 

He blinked, golden eyes nearly glimmering like the fire they focused on.  “Just had the thought when I saw it all.  What ‘er life would be like.  Raised like a…” freak.  “Like a–” 

“Thank you,” Ethan said suddenly, spinning on his heel toward the man, whose stutter died with those words, and a confused look overtook his face.  “I understand what you mean.  You didn’t want her to…go through.” 

His wandering gaze came back to Heisenberg’s face, the scars, the widened eyes.  “And I know that you don’t like to talk…specifics.  Of what you went through.  But I just want you to know that one day, I hope you can.  I hope you feel like you can trust me with that.”

Karl acted for a moment as if he would respond.  His mouth opened, closed, he blinked rapidly, tilted his head again.  Finally he simply looked back toward the fire.  Ethan so rarely “got” the other that he smiled broadly, crossing his arms over his chest in satisfaction.  He moved toward the other and leaned over Karl’s shoulder, his chin resting over Heisenberg’s trapezius muscle.  “I’m betting your master plan didn’t involve this, though.” 

“Nope,” Karl said cheerfully.  “Thought you were a real stubborn idiot.  Glad you came around.” 

“I am an idiot,” Ethan corrected, and he closed his eyes at Heisenberg’s chuckle.  

—------------

It was a restless half-hour after the memory-turned-dream that Ethan did crawl from his bed and enter the dimly lit hallway.  He could hear sounds from the kitchen, and sensed rather than guessed that it was Eva. 

Like his bond with Rosemary, the two could somehow ‘feel’ the other's presence, and even communicate if they wanted to, though there was seldom a need.  Also, like Rosemary, Eva’s energy–when focused on-was a brightly lit beacon even in this world.  

Ethan didn’t know what made the two so powerful, but it gave him comfort.  He had an inkling that the only other beings so gifted, so powerful, would have been Eveline and Miranda.  And that hadn’t worked out great for anybody, really.  

Eva’s warm smile faded when she saw the grumpy look on Ethan’s face, and she moved from the stool where she sat, surrounded by food and a notebook, to stand in front of him.  Now a hint of a furrow threaded into her white-blond eyebrows.  

Her voice was musical, soft.  Less echoey than it had been in the other realms.  But still almost magical-sounding.  Like a fairy voice. 

“Are you all right?”

He sighed raggedly and rubbed both palms down his face, feeling rather stupid.  Ethan wasn’t used to having others around in such a capacity, and had no real practice with talking to other adults about anything of substance.  In fact, the only real practice he’d had–his marriage-was mostly littered with mistrust, lies, and uncertainty.  He was trying to do better.  Embrace things.  

His frown turned into an almost-lip-tremble when he admitted in a small, quiet voice, “I dreamed about Mia.” 

Whatever he’d expected, he didn’t expect an instant, warm hug, and Ethan paused at the gesture before returning it.  

“I’m so sorry,” Eva said genuinely.  How was she so good at being so comforting after a century of isolation?  Ethan had nothing on her, and he was still like a fumbling infant at communication despite a college degree.   

“I’m just old,” she answered aloud, a hint of humor in her voice, and then Eva pulled back.  Her fingers went to cover her lips as if she were nervous.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay,” he said honestly, sauntering past her and plopping onto one of the stools.  “Makes it easier on me, if anything.” 

“I’m not invading your thoughts,” she began in her lilted accent, so similar to her mother’s, but without the sharp tone, “but I am just guessing…you would like some coffee?”

He couldn’t help but smile, and his posture relaxed as she moved toward the other side of the kitchen.  Eva had become something of a food expert in the few months after gaining a body.  At first, her creations were bizarre and even made Karl look on in fear and trepidation.  But soon, she bought dozens of cook books, tagged along to restaurants and shops, and spent long weekends with Maricara to learn the trade.  

She still ate donuts, and swore by the combination of pickles and macaroni.

Her back was to him.  Ethan studied the drying herbs on the wall, and the paintings left by Heisenberg’s family.  Unlike the somber dining room, this side was brightly patterned folk art.  Flowers and birds.  

“So, what was the dream?” 

“It was just…a memory, actually,” he answered with a frown.  “At the end, I thought I heard Miranda laughing.” 

“That is odd,” Eva responded, but her dark blue eyes glittered when she turned, her gaze sliding toward Ethan.  “Was she a part of the memory?”

Now he shrugged, agitated.  “I guess so.  I guess Miranda was a part of my life a long time before even Eveline came to be.”  When Eva remained silent, he added, “Mia met Miranda while she was in college.  She told me about it on our first date….I just…didn’t know who she was talking about.” 

A moment of comfortable silence, in which the wall clock was the only sound.  Ethan’s soft fingertips stroked over his own lips while he contemplated the memory again.  The smell of brewing coffee now punctured the air, welcome and comforting.  

His fingers were now probing his stubble.  Ethan hated the scratching feeling, and made a mental note to go shave soon.  He moved his fingers back to his lips, mumbling through them.  “Is it…..do you think Miranda can….see those things?  Memories.  Dreams.  Like that.” 

“Yes,” Eva replied simply.  

“Did she…cause it?”

“That, I do not know.”  Eva turned and crossed delicate arms over her chest.  She tilted her head, eyes tracking around the room while she considered.  “I could not, but maybe I didn’t try.  However…my question is, were you thinking of Mia before sleep?”

That was a pretty normal question.  Ethan frowned at it though.  He couldn’t even grieve properly, without wondering if Miranda was polluting his mind.  He exhaled, surprised at how shaky his breath still was.  

“I think of her a lot,” he admitted, wondering why he’d never said that before.  “When I thought she died the first time, before….”  he couldn’t even form the word anymore.  He closed his eyes instead.  He could sense Eva moving around to Karl’s usual seat, where she pushed a mug toward him gently.  

“...That time, I just thought of everything good.  Every good memory.  Then she was back and it was such a relief, well…after.  Anyway, this time, the thing that’s on my mind is the memories of arguments, fighting.  She hated moving here, I could tell.  She hated the BSAA’s involvement with us, hated that Chris trained me.”  Blond eyebrows lifted in an expression of sorrow, resignation, as he burned his lips with the coffee.

It tasted magnificent.  Eva somehow managed to make coffee that was incredibly strong and woody and still creamy and sweet.  He didn’t even mind the burned lips, and gulped more.  

She was listening intently, stirring her own coffee with her chin propped in her other hand.  

“Mostly I just…I guess.  I’m mad at her, and I know she knew things weren’t ever going to work again between us, but I feel like she abandoned me a long time ago….which sounds stupid.” 

“No it doesn’t.” 

“That part doesn’t upset me as much, I guess I get really upset when I think others are leaving, but I’ve accepted that she left.  What hurts and makes me angry is thinking that she did it to Rosemary.  Left her alone, without a…” his voice cracked and he gave up, clenching the coffee cup instead. 

Eva was silent for a few minutes before she draped a pale hand over one of his.  “I hear you, Ethan,” she said in a warm tone.  “May I say something?”

“Of course,” he grumbled, eager to burn his throat with more coffee.  

“I am not a mother,” she began, using the word he was trying to avoid, “but I have felt many souls’ experience, who were.  Generations of mothers.  One thing I can tell you is there is a certain sort of…insanity, a madness, to it.  Even other animals experience this.  Motherhood is to become insane, in a way.”   

He raised his eyebrows but stayed quiet.  

“In some, it manifests as control.  I would say my own mother is a good example of that.  A need to control the fate of their child, in fact, a need to control everything.  In other mothers, it manifests as panic or fear of well-being.  A sort of constant, fierce protectiveness.  A Mama Bear, yes?  Like the Lady Dimitrescu.”  

Was that a pang of remorse?  Oh, fuck off, he told himself mentally, trying to will memories of the pain she’d inflicted on him back into his mind so he wouldn’t feel anything remotely positive toward the woman. 

“This madness does not always show–one must have something to cause a chain reaction, so to say…living a quiet or normal life, it might never appear.  But sadness, sorrow, pain.”  Eva frowned, and finally sipped from her own cup.  

“Well, I suppose there are a thousand ways to respond, and I have seen many of them.  One response is to run away.  Overwhelm.  To spiral in a way until existing seems unbearable.  I am certain that Mia felt guilt, in the end, and I am sure it overwhelmed her.  However, it does not mean there was no love.  Sometimes madness overwhelms love.  Sometimes they are very near the same feeling.” 

Though he didn’t want to think of them, he found the Bakers entering his memory again…how different they had been, before.  How crazed, enraged Jack had been over Eveline’s proclamation that Ethan was to be her new Daddy.  He thought of Rosemary’s birth.  He’d been ecstatic, on cloud nine, but Mia’s fear overshadowed the event.  She had been hysterical.  Citing hospital trauma and mistrust of doctors.  They’d given her so much medication and still she panicked.  

As always, Ethan didn’t understand her fear, but simply worked hard to reassure her.  In hindsight, it made so much sense.  

He sighed, rubbing his temple.  

“Thanks, Eva.”  

She sat upright, looking suspiciously at him.  “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” he reassured, this time taking her hand.  “No, I think you’re right.”  He forced a smile, only possible thanks to the coffee, and quipped, “You’re pretty sharp for an old lady.” 

“Why! I was born two months ago!” she said in faux-outrage, but then giggled.  

After more coffee, he asked a question to shift the subject.  “If mothers come with madness, what do fathers come with?” 

Her blue eyes narrowed in thought, and they both turned their gazes toward the large glass doors that led to the garden, where the sky was barely turning grey.  

“Fathers,” she said contemplatively.  “Become…obstinate.  Headstrong.   Stubborn.”

He heaved a sigh into the coffee mug.  “You sound like Heisenberg.”  

They both burst into laughter at that. 

The sun would rise soon.  

[hotluncheddie]

steve finds a battered old copy of the lord of the rings at the thrift store, while he was looking for a gift for robin and he can't help but think that if he read it maybe he could drop a reference or something in conversation, freak out all his nerdy friends. he also half thinks that the surprise might make eddie smile at him, big and wide and so so pretty.

he takes it to the checkout.

steve proceeds to try and read it every night that week, first laying in bed, but he gets the first page open and instantly falls asleep. so he tries reading while sitting on the couch but his mind just seems to wander. wander to kind brown eyes and big silver rings, not that that's anyones business but steves.

so when he gets home from a early shift, the afternoon stretching ahead of him, he's determined to at least make a dent in this stupid fucking book. he sits at the kitchen table, book in front of him and he instantly feel like he's back in school. struggling through the mountain of homework that seems to just get bigger and bigger. the material taking hours to understand and complete, frustration at himself building.

shoving those memories away and forcing his eyes on the text. managing about 30 minutes, he gets a handful of pages in before he has to stop and take a lap of the room. sitting back down he tries to focus again but his brain is just so tired. tired from the day and all the shit he has to read and remember at work. so much so that the words just start to swim. the font too small, the sentences too long and so many new words that he doesn't notice he's skipping over until he gets to the end of the page and realises he hasn't understood a thing! 'why even bother?' he scoffs. tears welling up in his eyes as he slams the book down, standing up, hands fisting his hair.

there's a knock at the door and fuck. steve forget eddie was going to come over to watch movies today and he's here and steves in the middle of a breakdown and this is just great, just great.

huffing a sigh he half tries to make himself look more normal before he's opening the door to the only and last person he wants to see right now.

'stevie? what's wrong?' eddies eyes are big and round and ernest and steve can't help the small bitter laugh that escapes him before he's sniffling again, walking backwards and slumping down on the sofa, head in hands.

'its nothing, I'm fine, its nothing' he says through his fingers, voice muffled and snotty. eddie rests a hand on his shoulder, rubbing small circles and says he’ll be right back before shuffling into the kitchen to put the beers he brought away and get steve a glass of water. he spots the book on the table, laying face down with some of the pages folding awkwardly and picks that up too before reentering the room and sitting down close to steve on the sofa.

'whats up?' eddies voice is soft as his hand rests gently on steves knee.

releasing a long suffering sigh steve lifts his head and glares a little at the book, now on the coffee table. 'nothing.. just got reminded of what an idiot i am, not sure how i forgot but'

'you’re not stupid steve' eddie says, firm.

steves reeling, a small growl escaping his throat. 'but i am. i am! i can't even read this stupid book that i know erica has read and she's like 10! i can barely keep up with the paperwork at the store and i just wanted to be in on something, wanted to understand what the fuck anyones ever talking about. understand some of the references you’re always making, maybe even impress you. but i can't and i never will because I'm a grade A idiot.' steve ends his rant, voice facing out, small. almost as small as he feels.

science stretches a little, steve calming down, going from angry too tired, sad.

‘you were going to read this for me?’ eddie asks, and he sounds a little, shy? steve shifts, finally looking at eddies face where there's a small, sweet smile pulling at his lips.

'i.. i, yeah. wanted to, for you.' steve stutters, blush dusting his cheeks.

eddie shifts closer, taking both of steves hands in his and looking him in the eye, still smiling softly.

'you’re not an idiot stevie' eddie starts and steve scoffs a little, looking away.

'hey i mean it' eddie ducks back into steves eye-line, squeezing his hands a little. 'your brave and kind and funny and i don't care if you've read a book or not. i like talking to you, hearing what you have to say and what you think. because your not dumb, your great, perfect'. eddie finishes, smiling honest and wide and bright.

steve sniffs again, tears threatening to spill. he's embarrassed but tries to let the words sink in, tries to believe them because eddie said them and eddies his favourite and he knows eddie wouldn't lie to him.

'i can read it to you if you want' eddies shy again but there's a glint in his eye, mischief and steve can't help but smile a little back.

'yeah? you'd do that for me?' he asks, warmth flooding him at the thought.

'shit yeah dude, i've got all the voices down already, your not gonna know what hit ya!' eddie looks at steve, exited, playful. eddie.

'okay, okay. yeah. yes.' steve nods, tangling their fingers together, bumping their knees and grinning. 'lets read it together'

and eddie smile at him, big and wide and so so pretty.

[erodasfishtacos]

~ MLB Curious Gazes ~

prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.

word: 6k +

warnings: language, mentions of sexual content

If you enjoyed this please - reblog, like, recommend, comment, and inbox me to chat about it!

please consider donating to my kofi - my work is FREE and it is a great way to show support!

enjoy!

-=-=-=-=-=-

The Doctor’s Office

Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning. 

She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.

The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.

Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing. 

He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.

In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.

The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.

His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.

The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.

She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.

Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.

Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.

Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus

Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!

Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration

Holy shit.

She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.

Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.

Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.

Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.

“Good job,  ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.

Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”

Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.

YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.

The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.

Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.

Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.

She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.

“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.

It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”

Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”

The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.

Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.

When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”

Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.

“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.

Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”

The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”

Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”

“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.

Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”

“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.

A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.

“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.

Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y’bring a bottle?”

Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”

The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”

Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.

He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing  a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .

Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.

“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.

-

Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office. 

Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.

She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?

After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.

His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.

Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention. 

The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”

It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.

Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe. 

After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play. 

He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.

It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”

“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”

Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.

--

The Charity Event

It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square. 

It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.

There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code. 

It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.

Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles. 

She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms. 

The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.

Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.

She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***

It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?

Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.

Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.

As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob. 

Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.

“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.

“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.

Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads. 

Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.

At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”

Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?

“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.

Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”

YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.

Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”

The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.

“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.

“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.

YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.

“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.

“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.

Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”

Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”

He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”

Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”

Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”

“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.

Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.

He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”

Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.

Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.

She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.

It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.

Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.

“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”

Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.

 “He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”

It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.

Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.

One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.” 

“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.

“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.

Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.

When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.

“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.

The crowd whistles and coos.

Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.

“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”

She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.

“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.

“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”

The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.

When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.

Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”  

“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.

Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.

He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.

-

After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.

When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.

Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.

Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.

“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”

And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.

“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.

“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.

God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.

When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.

YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.

As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”

Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.

-

The Little League Game

It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.

The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.

Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.

He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.

They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.

As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.

Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.

The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).

She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.

“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.

“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”

“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.

She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.

Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”

“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.

“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.

“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.

“Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.

“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.

“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.

“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.

Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?

The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.

He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.

Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.

Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.

Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.

 Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.

“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.

“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.

“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”

“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”

Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”

YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”

“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.

It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.

As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***

Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.

“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him. 

“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”

“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”

Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.

“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.

Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”

Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.

As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.

--

The Campfire

Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.

Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.

It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.

Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.

Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.

Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.

Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.

“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.

“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.

Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.

Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.

Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.

Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.

When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.

As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.

She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.

After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.

Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.

Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”

Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”

The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.

Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.

Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”

YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”

The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.

Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.

Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.

“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.

Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”

“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.

“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”

Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.

But not tonight.

YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.

“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.

“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.

“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”

All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”

Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.

“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.

When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.

At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.

“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.

Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.

“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.

Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor. 

All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.

-=-=-=-=-=-

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[babyboibucky]

Project V: Of Quickies, Tours and Fingers

Pairing: College!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Pietro joins the gang for a night out.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Unprotected p in v penetration, jealous Bucky teehee and finally, some talk about ~feelings~

A/N: Writing for Pietro excites me so this happened LMFAO the quickest Project V update yet

Project V Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“Yeah…fuck…I thought you needed to finish your, oh fuck, Bucky…your paper…” you moaned as Bucky rolled his hips against yours.

Pressing his lips against your neck, he took both of your wrists and pinned it above your head at the same time he sped up his pace, “I’ll continue after we’re done fucking.” He groaned into your ear, slamming his hips against yours making his bed creak.

Your hands clawed down Bucky’s back when he pushed his cock deeper, hitting your sweet spot making you moan. Just a few minutes ago you walked into his dorm while he was smashing the keys on his laptop, trying to finish his paper that was due in half an hour.

Thinking that he didn’t need any distraction, you told him that you’ll come back later once he was done but of course, the idiot said he was a multitasker and took on the challenge to make you cum in fifteen minutes.

You doubted him at first, given that you weren’t really in the mood to fuck but all Bucky needed to do was thumb your nipples while kissing you— just like that you were reduced to a soaking mess.

“God you look so pretty like this…” Bucky praised, moving your hair away from your face as he fucked you relentlessly.

Bucky moaned at the sight of your breasts bouncing with each thrust, how your nipples were fully erect from how turned on you were. He straightened up and released your wrists, letting you grip his forearms as he fucked you.

“Your paper, Bucky…” you reminded him, not wanting him to fail to submit simply because he fucked you so good.

“Don’t worry, I’ll finish it in time…same goes for you.” He grunted and brought a hand down to rub your clit.

His hips stuttered when you clenched around him, milking his cock when he pressed on your clit hard, enough to make you cum just like that. Your nails dug into Bucky’s arm as you moaned out his name, your toes curling and eyes rolling to the back of your head.

One orgasm and you thought that was enough for Bucky, but the way your pussy looked with his cock sliding in and out of it made him want to coax another one from you. So, instead of finishing, Bucky decided to make you cum again.

“Oh my god, Buck!” You squealed when he gripped your waist to fuck into you faster and harder.

“One more. Give me another one, please.” He pleaded, bending down to kiss you hard.

All you could do was nod and hold onto his arms tight as he pounded into you, not caring whether the headboard was already banging against the wall. Whoever on the other side of the room is, well, they’re probably used to the noise by now.

“Cumming, Buck! I’m cumming!” You moaned and lifted your hips up to angle his cock deeper.

One particular thrust made you see stars and as soon as your pussy pulsated, you felt Bucky’s warm release flood inside of you. You haven’t even taken another breath after cumming and Bucky was out of you in no time.

You would’ve been offended but you realized that you and Bucky fucked for quite a while that he only had like ten minutes left to finish and submit his paper. Sitting up on his bed, looking debauched and well-fucked, you saw that Bucky was already hunched over his desk, typing at the speed of light…while still completely naked.

The sight was almost hilarious, him butt-naked while his cock was still glistening from both your releases. But with how he was typing confidently as if he wasn’t worried about failing to submit on time, you were actually impressed.

It was hot, you had to admit. Bucky may be a dumbass most of the time, but without a doubt, he was an intelligent one.

“Hah! Submitted! And with three minutes to spare!” He huffed out before turning to you with a silly grin.

“I can’t believe you just fucked my brains out and then immediately went to finish your paper.” You stated.

“Told you, I’m a good multitasker.” He winked.

You were about to lay back down on his bed when you remembered something that made you hop out, “Shit, I forgot! I gotta shower real quick and then bolt!” You said and ran into the bathroom.

“Where are you going?! I thought we were meeting up with Sam and Steve to play pool?” He asked.

Your head popped out of the door, “Wanda asked a favor, she wanted me to tour Pietro around the area since she needs to finish her project. I’ll be there tonight! I’m sure Pietro will enjoy everyone’s company too.”

“What, you’re a tour guide now?” Bucky asked with a huff.

“Apparently.”

-

“Those are pretty much what you can see around here, a few malls, a couple of coffee shops and some restaurants and bars. Why do I feel like this tour bore the hell out of you?” you said with a chuckle as you and Pietro went inside a small café to take a rest.

Pietro smiled and shook his head, “Trust me, it didn’t. I had fun. You’re fun.” he said before falling in line, “You can go find a seat and I’ll order for us, what do you want?” he asked.

“Oh no, I should be the one ordering given that you’re somewhat our guest.” you said and stepped in front of him in the line.

Pietro laughed behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders before gently pushing you aside to replace your position, “Come on, let me be a gentleman. I’ll let you treat me the next time we hangout.” he bargained.

You wanted to oppose him but hey, you were a broke college student and if he wanted to treat you, then why would you say no to his offer? You thanked Pietro and gave him your order before taking the seat at one corner of the coffee shop.

Few minutes later, Pietro was back with both of your orders. He slid a plate with a sandwich over to you and winked, “Thought I’d buy you some food too.” he said.

“I was going to say that you didn’t have to, but I’m actually starving.” you admitted and quickly took a bite.

Pietro watched you with amusement as he leaned against his chair, “Yeah, you looked pretty tired when we met up earlier.”

Of course you were tired, Bucky just happened to pull out two consecutive orgasms from you minutes before you met up with Pietro. If you could only refuse Wanda’s favor, you would have already because of how weak your legs felt after Bucky fucked you senseless.

“You’re cute, you know that?”

Lifting your head up, you looked at Pietro with disbelief while your mouth was full of food. You stopped chewing and swallowed before frowning, “Is that sarcasm or…?” you asked suspiciously.

Pietro chuckled, “No, silly.” he said, his accent thick and unique, but pleasant to the ears.

“When I find someone pretty, I make sure to let her know.” he said with nonchalance, taking a quick sip from his coffee.

Not knowing how to react, you merely shrugged and avoided his gaze, “You’re very straightforward. Is that a Sokovian thing or what?” you joked, trying to make yourself feel comfortable.

Receiving compliments from someone who isn’t Bucky? Why did it feel so fucking strange? You were used to Bucky telling you stuff like that, be it in bed or not. He’d even send you text messages when you’re shitting in his bathroom.

Ur cute even when u gotta poop

Did i tell u you look pretty when u farted earlier?

Not once did you even feel awkward with those compliments from Bucky. Perhaps you were used to him being affectionate but another guy? How the hell were you supposed to react anyway?

“So is the priest your boyfriend?” he asked.

“Who?” you asked.

“At the halloween party, the priest? Are you two dating?” Pietro asked curiously.

“Oh, Bucky?” you asked. “He’s my best friend.”

Pietro smirked, as if something was going on in his mind. You frowned, “What’s so funny?” you asked.

Pietro shook his head, “Nothing.” he responded before looking at you again, “Just your best friend?” he asked again.

You nodded, “Yeah, since we were young.”

“Okay, but does he know that?” he asked.

“Know what? That we’re best friends? Of course.” you answered, getting even more confused with Pietro’s every question.

“What I mean...does he know that you’re just best friends?” he asked, leaning on the table as he watched your expression change into something else.

Pietro’s question almost made you question your comprehension, because initially, you felt dumb for not understanding what he was trying to ask. But then you sort of realized what Pietro was really asking about.

You never really thought about it, honestly.

“He does…?”

“Maybe, guess we’ll find out later.”

-

Initially, Pietro intimidated you so much— the way he spoke, how blunt he was— he was very different from your other guy friends. There was something about him that made you feel conscious, maybe because of the way he would stare at you?

The man was definitely good at maintaining eye contact. He was a charmer, that’s for sure.

However, as you hung out with him for the rest of the day, you discovered that he was fun and cool. It was his confidence that was off-putting at first and being that good-looking didn’t help tone down his charisma. Walking with him in public almost made you want to disappear because of how much attention Pietro grabbed, just by merely existing.

By the time the two of you arrived at the bar, Bucky and the rest were already in the middle of playing pool. Wanda was supposed to follow but she had more things to finish so she had to stay at a groupmate’s dorm.

“Alright, who’s winning?” you asked.

“About time you arrived, Bucky’s been grumpy all this time. He said you were his lucky charm, can you believe him? He’s using you as an excuse for actually being terrible at this game.” Sam teased.

True enough, Bucky was frowning and pouting, “I’m not terrible, Sam. Just having a bad day because someone’s late.” he said.

You gasped, “How is this my fault?” you asked.

“You’re my lucky charm! I’m about to lose fifty dollars because you’re late!” Bucky huffed.

Your eyes widened, “You bet fifty dollars?!” you gasped.

“I told you it was a bad idea.” Steve chimed in, shaking his head.

Bucky shrugged, “I thought about using the money I’d win for our roadtrip.” he said.

“Holy shit, you’re right. Alright, your lucky charm’s here. Give it your best shot.” you said, giving Bucky’s shoulders a squeeze before leaning close to his ear.

“If you win, I’ll let you fuck my tits.” you whispered.

Bucky blushed as he stared at you, “Are you fucking kidding me?” he softly asked.

You merely grinned at him before stepping aside, “Good luck.”

-

“Roadtrip, here we fucking go!” Bucky hollered, finishing the game and actually winning it.

Sam groaned in disappointment, but fished out fifty dollars from his back pocket before giving it to Bucky. You cheered in delight and hugged Bucky, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist.

“Alright, we gotta plan that roadtrip ASAP.” Bucky announced, sitting you down on the pool table.

He leaned forward and whispered, “And I’m already hard just thinking about fucking your tits.”

You snorted, “We’ll get to that later. But first, shots!” you announced, unaware of the amusement in Pietro’s eyes as he watched you.

After playing another round of pool, all of you decided to head to Sam’s apartment for more drinks since the crowd at the bar was becoming too rowdy and noisy. Pietro got along with Steve and Sam easily and although he was trying to strike a conversation with Bucky, the latter wasn’t too interested and kept on bugging you most of the time.

Bucky was like a damn leech who wouldn’t leave your side. He was extra clingy and touchy too, with his arm around your shoulders or his hand on the small of your back.

You couldn’t help but think about what Pietro asked you earlier, whether Bucky knew that you two were just best friends.

Conversations flowed easily back at Sam’s apartment; they were mostly about Pietro and his life back in Sokovia and why he chose to stay there instead of following Wanda. He said that Wanda’s always wanted to leave Sokovia and experience life outside of it, meanwhile, he decided to pursue his studies back there.

“Although my short stay here makes me want to transfer.” Pietro said, eyeing you from across the table.

Sam elbowed Steve before motioning towards Bucky whose grin faltered when he caught sight of Pietro checking you out. You, on the other hand, were oblivious to it and kept on talking to him.

“Maybe you should sign up for the exchange student thingy. I think we have one like that.” you suggested, taking a sip from your cup.

“Help me out with it?” Pietro asked you.

You shrugged, “Yeah, sure. I can ask the registrar about the documents needed.” you said.

“Why bother, he can just ask Wanda to help him out. Where is she anyway? Shouldn’t she be picking up her brother by now?” Bucky commented with a snort.

You turned to Bucky, surprised at his attitude. “Bucky, why are you so—”

“I’m actually twelve minutes older than her.” Pietro responded with a grin, “Hey, do you guys want to play Never Have I Ever? Wanda kept on telling me about it, I never really played it.” he said, changing the topic.

Bucky snickered, “Noob.” he whispered.

You elbowed Bucky, “The fuck is wrong with you?” you asked softly.

He merely shrugged in response, rolling his eyes at Pietro before taking a swig from his bottle of beer.

Everyone agreed to play and because Steve was the first one, it started off pretty tame and well, boring. When it was Sam’s turn though, that was when things got a little spicy and interesting.

“Never have I ever...gotten a piercing ripped out.”

Bucky cursed at him, “You’re targeting the both of us, you asshole!” he hissed, putting a finger down at the same time as you.

Pietro eyed the both of you suspiciously, “That sounds interesting.” he said.

“Ooh man, it is. I’ll tell you the story some other time. It’s fucking hilarious.” Sam said which earned him a dirty finger from Bucky.

A couple rounds and secrets revealed later, you and Bucky were left with three fingers. Steve and Pietro still have five and Sam with four. It was Pietro’s turn and he seemed to be thinking deeply about what to say.

“Why am I nervous?” Sam asked jokingly.

Pietro rubbed his chin as he eyed you and then Bucky. He straightened up and cleared his throat.

“Never have I ever fallen in love with my best friend.”

You’d never encountered silence as deafening as this. Even Steve and Sam froze in their seats upon hearing Pietro’s statement. It’s like the time stopped ticking and only you and Bucky were left in the room. Even without turning your head, you could see Bucky stealing glances at you.

Why were you so confused?! Every moment you spent with Bucky, starting from when you were young flooded your mind all of a sudden. And then came the memories after Project V, when you asked him for a huge favor. How things slowly changed between the two of you; how the fleeting touches turned into shameless caresses, the affectionate words. How you became so comfortable around him, being clingy and needy only for him to witness.

Bucky’s compliments in and outside of the bedroom, how he literally ran to you whenever you needed him.

How the both of you didn’t bother seeking out relationships with other people, always turning down dates and whatnot.

Despite those massive changes, none of you brought them up. There was no talk about being exclusive or whether the both of you were still just best friends. Whether there was attraction beyond the physical and what would happen if one developed feelings for the other.

“Which best friend are we talking about? ‘Cause my best friend is Steve.” Sam said, obviously trying to lighten the tense atmosphere.

“Think about the first person that came to your mind and ask yourself if you’ve fallen in love with them at one point.” Pietro clarified, his eyes still trained on you and Bucky.

Steve hummed, “Well, Peggy is my girlfriend and my best friend so I’m putting a finger down.” he said.

Sam clutched his heart, “Right in front of me, bro. Wow. I called you my best friend and you just...wow.” he said.

“Can you believe this, Bucky? Your best friend Steve, put a finger down for Peggy. We mean nothing to him.” Sam said.

He was clearly finding a way to make the situation lighter and it was a good escape because truth to be told, you weren’t ready to talk about whatever it is that you and Bucky have. You were about to tell everyone to move on to the next when Bucky spoke up.

“Steve is my best friend, but he’s not the first person I thought about.” he said, carefully turning to you.

Another deafening silence and even with Sam insisting that it was Steve who was Bucky’s best friend, it wasn’t enough to distract you from the way Bucky was looking at you as if you were the only person he could see in the room.

And then he put a finger down.