#and then a few (like the ivies) are reach schools

[sirenpearldust]

Broken Doll - Chapter one

series masterlist ⋆ Chapter two

Pair: Azriel x reader, Eris x reader

Word count: 7.074

Warnings: violence, jealous boys, possessive characters, reader is not nice, Elain slander

The music muffled the chatter of your classmates, but your focus was elsewhere. It was already 7:20.

You bit your nails nervously, waiting for him. He still hadn’t read your message, and he couldn’t afford to be late, not on the first day of school. 

You had math in the first period, the worst subject. Why did it have to be math on the first day of school?

You rubbed your temples, barely able to drown out the sound of your class monitor - Irina scolding Cass and Rhys, cutting through your earphones. Every year, it was the same, and every year, you wondered the same thing, how could they have so much energy, this early?

Turning away from the window, a familiar figure caught your attention.

“Why are you moping?” Eris asked, leaning in close with that familiar, cocky grin.

His freckles had darkened over the summer, standing out against his sun-kissed skin. His amber eyes studied you intently as you slowly pulled out your earphone. He smelled of cologne and an incoming headache.

“I thought gingers could only turn red. Whose skin did you steal?” you quipped.

Eris’s smile stretched into a wide grin before he reached over and ruffled your hair.

You smacked his hand away, hissing, “Fuck off!”

“You’re just a ray of sunshine in the morning,” he teased, clearly unfazed by your temper.

“I’m happier when I don’t see you,” you shot back, scowling as you tried to fix your hair. It had taken you an hour to have it the way you wanted and now this Gingerfuck had to ruin all your good work.

“Here, let me help,” he offered, leaning in with that smug grin still plastered on his face. 

Evil fucker you seethed internally. 

“No,” you said firmly, grabbing his wrist before he could try anything. You locked eyes with him, raising an eyebrow as if to say, I know exactly what you’re planning, and it’s not happening.

Eris rolled his eyes dramatically and let his hand fall.

Instead of leaving, he slid into Azriel’s seat beside you, his gaze fixed on you. His usual teasing expression softened as he watched you fussing with your hair. For a moment, a small smile played on his lips.

Before you could react, his hand reached out. 

Why did he have to annoy you so much? He knows Azriel doesn’t like it when he touches you.

You turned sharply toward him, ready to snap, but he simply tucked one stray strand of hair back into place.

“Thanks,” you murmured, still scowling. Fucker ruins it first and now helps.

Eris had missed you over the break, more than he wanted to admit to himself. 

For a few seconds, you both stayed like that, looking at each other. Time seemed to stretch as you got lost in his gaze, forgetting everything else around you. 

It was crazy how you had known each other since you were born. You went to the same elementary school, middle school, and now high school.  But there was still a small possibility he would be accepted into a different Ivy League than you. The thought of seeing Eris for another couple of years was starting to make you feel nauseous.

“Please don’t follow me to college,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Your intrusive thoughts had been louder than usual, and now you regretted speaking them aloud. You immediately looked at him, hoping he wouldn’t be mad.

“You do know that you’re the stalker who follows me around, right?” Eris said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“You were born after me, remember?” Eris teased, his smirk widening. 

“You cried until I was in the same class as you, and then you didn’t let me have other friends. You always wanted me to be your only friend.”

You felt your face heat up, your old childhood habits suddenly being revealed. 

“Eris, I was a kid, stop bringing that up.”

Eris leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes, his voice low.  “Oh, but you were so sweet back then. Always clinging to me like I was the only person in the world you trusted. And now, look at you. Still can’t get enough of me, huh? What would your boyfriend think, his enemy being stalked by his girlfriend?”

But before you could deny it, the door opened, and Azriel stepped in. He was accompanied by a girl who came up to his shoulders. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders, and her big, doll-like brown eyes were fixed on Azriel as he spoke to her. When he finally looked up and saw you, a smile spread across his face.

Your boyfriend looked absolutely handsome, mouthwatering, honestly, it should have been illegal for him to walk around looking like this in the uniform. His black hair fell messily over his forehead, still damp from the shower he’d just taken. The dark blue uniform pants hugged his thighs perfectly, emphasizing every inch of his toned frame. You couldn’t help but stare, your thoughts drifting somewhere they shouldn’t before you caught yourself.

Eris was still watching you, and he could tell from the happy expression on your face, the one you didn’t often show around him, that Azriel had arrived. 

Azriels eyes quickly shifted to the seat Eris was in, his seat. His smile faded slowly, his jaw tightening as his eyes narrowed.

Forgetting the girl, Azriel quickly walked toward you, an annoyed expression on his face. 

Eris stood up, slowly turning toward Azriel.

You sighed, watching the familiar tension build. They were always at each other’s throats, never able to let anything slide.

“Hi, babe,” you said, walking past Eris before leaning in to kiss Azriel on the cheek. His warmth engulfed you, he smelled of leather and cedar. He kissed the crown of your head before glaring at Eris again.

 Children

Azriel had arrived just before the bell rang, but now you feared both of them were on the verge of beating each other again. You did not need a repeat of last year.

Leaning forward, you were about to intervene.

Irina suddenly stepped between them, clapping her hands loudly.

“Try fighting again, and I might kill you both. Don’t test me,” she warned, cutting off any chance of Eris’s snarky remarks. Then, glancing over her shoulder, she glared at Cassian and Rhys, who were still making noises in the front, oblivious to the tension in the back.

 “Sit down, both of you! I don’t want to explain again how you two monkeys got into a fight!”

Both of them listened to her, knowing any backtalk would ensure that their coach would find out and that they would bench out on some games.

Irina walked toward the new girl, greeting her.

Eris nodded, moving toward his seat right behind you. You sighed in relief as Azriel slung his shoulder bag next to the table and plopped down into his seat, still a little annoyed that he had to see Eris first thing in the morning.

Eris, never one to shut up, added, “Also, we’re coming over today.”

You turned in your seat, confused. “What?”

“Yeah, my parents want to have dinner with yours because of the deal they’ve sealed,” he explained casually.

“Oh, great,” you muttered, though you couldn’t hide the surprise.

“You should look happier to see me again. There are girls who’d kill for this chance,” Eris teased, grinning at you.

Azriel coughed, loudly. 

Eris ignored him completely, still smiling at you. You shook your head, silently telling him not to add anything else to the conversation.

A few seconds later the new girl walked up to Eris, her big eyes on him as she asked, “Is this seat taken?”

“Yes,” Eris replied without looking up from his phone, ignoring her completely.

 Liar

Your face must have betrayed you, giving away your disbelief at his blatant lie. 

She turned bright red, embarrassed by his obvious lie and glanced at Azriel. 

You gave her a soft smile and pointed toward the front.

“There is a seat free next to the guy with the black hair. His name’s Calix.”

She thanked you quietly, then quickly glanced at Azriel again before heading toward the front.

The bell rang, and just as everyone settled into their seats, your Math teacher walked in, signaling the start of the lesson.

• •

“Azriel, you need to explain this to me, I don’t understand it,” you whined, frustrated as you stared at the page of notes in front of you. Math was the one subject you couldn’t quite wrap your head around, no matter how hard you tried. Luckily, Azriel and sometimes even Eris stepped in to help.

“Sure,” he replied casually, packing the heavy books into his bag. After the last person left the room and it was just the two of you now. He slung his bag over his shoulder, he leaned in closer, kissing your forehead. You were thankful he was this affectionate, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

 “You’ve got a little something right here,” he said with a grin. 

You blushed deeply, the intensity in his hazel eyes made your heart race. His thumb lightly brushed your upper lip, and your eyes fluttered shut, your breath catching as the moment seemed to linger in the air.

He gently cupped your face, his breath catching as he leaned in, his lips softly pressing against yours. He kissed you slowly and softly, his touch slow and tender.

The initial sweetness of the kiss deepened as you tilted your chin, a silent plea for more. 

You gasped as you both couldn’t ignore the hunger and need. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling your body into his. The world outside disappeared, it was only you two.

Your hand rested on his chest, slowly trailing upward until it tangled in his hair. When you gave it a gentle tug, he groaned, the deep sound vibrating through his chest and against your body. You clung to him, breathing him in, the familiar scent of leather and cedar stirring something warm inside you.

It was hard to believe there had been a time when this was just a distant dream, and now here you were, kissing him for real. 

Before you two could go any further, Irina interrupted, slamming the door open and standing in the doorway. 

“You two!” she shouted, making you and Azriel jump apart. 

“No fucking in here,” she added, her Finger pointing accusingly at both of you. 

Azriel and you blushed, quickly moving apart. Trying to explain yourselves you both stuttered.

She waved her hand dismissing your explanation, she looked unsurprised at catching the two of you making out, but there was stress written all over her face. Her ash brown hair was tied messy, and her uniform was disheveled, like she had just been in a rush. It was as if she had run straight here.

“Now get out. I need to lock the room,” Irina ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You both scrambled to gather your things and quickly walked out, hoping she wouldn’t lock you in if you took to long, something she definitely would do if given the chance. 

You and Azriel couldn’t meet her eyes, shame written all over your faces.

“Wait a minute,” she said sharply before either of you could make a break for it. 

Azriel’s grip on your hand tightened, his whole body tense, bracing himself for yet another scolding.

She took a deep breath as she adjusted her disheveled uniform and smoothed her hair as she spoke.

“Coach wants to see you, something about the games and your scholarship.”

Azriel’s eyes widened slightly. “Did he look angry?” he asked cautiously.

“No, he looked happy as a clam.”

Azriel exhaled in relief, his shoulders relaxing.

“Also, Y/N,” she added, turning to you, “Miss Norton wants to see you about the upcoming art exhibition. Congratulations your art was accepted. You are the last person that had been added”

Azriel smiled brightly, pulling you into a hug. “You did it,” he whispered, his voice filled with pride. “I told you there was nothing to worry about. Your art is too great to not be exhibited ”

You felt your cheeks warm, blushing slightly at his words.

He leaned in to kiss you, and you returned it softly, but then gently pushed him away as your eyes darted to Irina. “Sorry,” you mumbled, feeling a bit awkward under her blank, unreadable stare.

“No worries,” Irina said a slight corner of her lips quirked up.

 “I’m glad you got in. Miss Norton and Calix spoke highly of your art.”

You blinked, surprised, warmth spreading through you. That was probably the nicest thing she had ever said to you.

“I better go before I get another scolding,” he said, quickly kissing you on the cheek.

Irina looked at you and you waved before walking toward the art room, the path opposite from Azriel.

• •

Standing at the same spot, Irina took a deep breath before calling out, “Eris, come out. I know you’re there.”

Eris stepped out from behind the pillar he had been hiding behind, his face slightly flushed.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he mumbled, meeting her sharp gaze, with his own.

“You mean stalking the girl you have a crush on and watching her kiss her boyfriend, who happens to be your arch nemesis?” she shot back, crossing her arms.

“Who said I have a crush on her?” he retorted quickly. “She’s-”

Irina cut him off, her tone firm. “ I see the way you look at her. Both of them. And I see how you watch Azriel too.” Her eyes narrowed, and her voice dropped into a warning. “Just a heads-up if you have another conflict with Azriel, Coach is going to kick you off the team. You’ve been causing him way too much trouble, and so has Azriel. Don’t make things worse.”

Eris looked away, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t argue. Irina gave him one last pointed glance before turning and walking off, leaving him standing there in silence.

Eris wasn’t a pervert he had been there because he needed to know, needed to test the theory if he really had feelings for you. He’d read more than once that jealousy was the clearest sign of feelings like the ones he thought he might have. And he did get jealous, it was the only time he would admit to himself that he was envious of Azriel.

He was jealous of the way you looked at Azriel, the way your eyes softened for him in a way they never did for anyone else. He was jealous of the way you kissed him, how you would let him touch you and the way you naturally leaned into his body like he was the only pillar you could lean on.

But what haunted him most were the sounds you made, soft, breathless, completely yours and the maddening thought of what sounds you’d make for him.

Would they be the same?

Or would they be even sweeter?

The questions twisted inside him, they burned like a fire he wasn’t sure he wanted to put out.

He was plagued by dreams of you for a few moths now, dreams so vivid they felt like memories of a life he could never have. He dreamed of you as his wife, your laughter filling the air as you leaned in to kiss him, your touch soft and familiar. He dreamed of a child, a daughter with your eyes and your smile, who looked up at him with unconditional love, something he had yet to experience.

He didn’t know where this was coming from. Sure, he’d always been attracted to you, your confidence, your wit, the way you carried yourself, but this?

This was something entirely different. It wasn’t just attraction anymore, he could say it was an obsession. You had rooted yourself in his mind and no matter how hard he tried to push the thoughts away, they kept returning, stronger than before.

• •

You walked in silence, feeling a bit nervous as you approached the art room. The closer you got, the worse the feeling in your belly became. It twisted and churned, a mix of unease and anticipation that you couldn’t shake. Something was wrong, you could feel it, even if you couldn’t explain why. 

Before you could open the door it swung open, you were greeted by a wild-eyed Calix, who stood in front of you, his black eyes so dark and angry.

“Good, you’re here,” he said quickly, his voice tense. You were confused. 

What is happening?

Stepping in, you watched as Miss Norton smiled warmly at the new girl, laughing loudly at something she had said. She absentmindedly rubbed the new girls shoulder. When she noticed the two of you standing there, her eyes quickly shifted to you.

“Oh, thank God you’re here,” she said, adjusting her glasses.

“I’ve got some great news for the exhibition, but let me first introduce my guest,” Miss Norton began, her excitement evident, ignoring the angry look from Calix. 

She gestured to the girl beside her.

“This is Elain Archeron.”

The girl gave a shy smile, her big brown eyes never leaving yours. 

She blushed deeply as Miss Norton continued, “Before Elain switched schools her artwork was kind of famous I would like to display it at the upcoming exhibition.”

“Miss Norton this is impossible!” Calix interrupted, his voice sharp. He clearly wasn’t amused or excited about the news. Your expression was a mix of confusion and frustration, as you glanced between Elain and Miss Norton. 

You were equally shocked. Everything had been organized over the summer, and if you were accepted, everyone already had their spot. 

Miss Norton then turned to you, saying, “YN, you’ll need to share your corner with Elain , as you have submitted your art last.”

Calix spoke up, his tone firm. “I’m sorry, Miss Norton, but Elain’s art is way more different than the pieces that are meant to be presented for the exhibition.”

You felt your cheeks heat with anger.

How could she do that? You had worked hard on your own art, and now you had to share your spot with someone who wasn’t even part of the original selection. 

Miss Norton turned red, clearly flustered by the unexpected critique.

“We can make an exception this time, it would be a good idea to introduce her like this to the school,” she suggested, trying to smooth things over.

Calix chuckled frustrated, shaking his head, before fixing Miss Norton with a sharp, unwavering gaze.

The room fell into silence Calixs’s anger was evident to everyone by the way he huffed and puffed, he usually was quiet and kind, never one easily to anger. 

“I don’t see why you are so angry Calix I decide who is to display their art and I don’t think y/n minds sharing her spot. Right y/n? “ 

You couldn’t help but stare at her. Was she even right in the head?

How bold of Elain to take over your half of the space without a second thought and how could she speak to Calix like that?

He was the one who had to organize, book, print, and handle so much more work, work that she conveniently left for him while she lounged around like it wasn’t her responsibility. The audacity left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Calix answered for you. “She’s not okay. Nobody would be if things were changed last minute. Miss Norton, there are other exhibitions she can be a part of.”

“Calix, my word is final,” Norton said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Nothing is going to change my opinion.”

You caught the subtle quirk of Elain’s lips, a self-satisfied smirk that made your stomach twist. You had thought she’d just been dragged into this mess. But now it seemed she was far more of a bitch than you’d initially believed. That smug look on her face, the way she seemed to revel in the chaos, it was clear she wasn’t as harmless as you’d assumed.

“And now you two leave,” Norton continued, her sharp gaze cutting through you both. “I didn’t call you here to hear your opinions.”

Without another word, you followed Calix out, swallowing down your frustration. 

As soon as the door closed behind you, you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“You saw her smirk too, right?” Calix asked, his voice low with irritation.

You nodded, still fuming. “Is her art really that good?” you asked, needing to know if there was any justification for the favoritism.

“It’s good,” he admitted, but then added quickly, “but I still think yours is a way better fit, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He said taking out a cigarette to smoke.

His words soothed you a little, but the tension in your chest didn’t entirely fade. Elain’s smug expression was burned into your mind, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end of it.

• •

You cried a little in the bathroom, the frustration of it all finally catching up to you. How could this even happen? It felt so unfair.

Once you stopped crying, you stepped out of the stall, dried your mascara-streaked cheeks, and carefully fixed your makeup. The process was almost therapeutic, and by the time you were done, you felt a little better, lighter, even. Your eyes were still slightly red, but a few drops of eyedrops worked their magic.

Grabbing your bag, you packed up your things and made your way to French class, feeling a bit more composed, ready to face the day again.

You were eager to tell Azriel and your friends what had just happened.

As you opened the door, the sound of laughter spilled out. Mor, Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel were gathered inside, chatting with her, Elain.

You stopped in your tracks as soon as you saw her, Elain, sitting in your seat next to Azriel, her fingers lightly brushing against his arm while laughing. 

What the hell was she doing there? It was supposed to be your spot, your place next to him, and now she was acting like it was all hers.

“Hi,” you greeted the others, deliberately ignoring Elain as you placed your bag on the table in front of her, where her things were already spread out. Morrigan’s eyes met yours instantly, and without saying a word, you both understood-later. She could tell something was off.

Azriel, oblivious to the tension, immediately grabbed you into his lap, kissing you softly before nuzzling into your neck. His hand rested gently on your waist, pulling you even closer, as if he felt your need for his warmth and to ease any unease.

“ Now I miss Emory,” Morrigan said with a wistful smile, her voice light but her gaze still focused on you.

“If you haven’t met her, this is Elain,” Azriel said, gesturing toward the bitch with a small smile. “She’s new and the reason I was late this morning.”

You shot Elain a sharp smile. “We already met,” you said, your voice cool and laced with tension.

Elain met your glare with one of her own, not backing down. The two of you locked eyes, a silent battle brewing between you, neither willing to yield.

Cassian and Rhys sat next to each other, completely dumbfounded. They exchanged confused glances, clearly caught off guard by the strange atmosphere between you and Elain. They were unsure of what had happened to cause such an icy atmosphere.

Morrigan, sensing the tension and eager to defuse it, chuckled and said, “I don’t think Cassian told you about his crush, guys.”

Cassian’s face immediately turned red, his eyes widening as he shot Morrigan a look of disbelief. You and Rhys burst out laughing, while Azriel raised an eyebrow in amusement, completely oblivious to the situation that had just unfolded.

“Oh, here we go,” Rhys said between laughs, nudging Cassian. “This ought to be good.”

Cassian groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You better not say a word, Morrigan.”

But Morrigan only grinned, clearly enjoying every second of his discomfort. “Oh, I’m not saying a thing. But maybe someone should tell us who this mysterious crush is?” She shot a teasing look at Cassian.

Cassian leaned back and laced his hands behind his head. “Well, I have someone in mind.”

“Who’s the poor woman?” you teased, the others chuckling along.

Cassian smirked but didn’t answer. “Not gonna tell you. You’ll just see me kiss her, and then you’ll know.”

“It’s probably Irina,” Azriel said with a smirk, glancing at Cassian.

“That’s why you keep annoying her,” you added, high-fiving Azriel as you shot Cassian a teasing grin.

Cassian’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“You two are the worst,” he muttered, but the laughter from the group only made it worse.

Morrigan grinned,  “You could just ask her on a date instead of annoying her. We’re 18, Cass, not 6.”

Rhys smirked and added, “Guys, he’s already planned their future together.”

Cassian’s face turning an even deeper shade of red as he threw his hands up in frustration.

“I’m not planning anything!” he protested.

Azriel chuckled, watching his friend squirm. “Maybe it’s time you stop talking about it and actually do something about it, Cass. It worked when I did. ”

You kissed his cheek.

Cassian sighed dramatically, slouching in his chair. “You guys are the worst.”

Elain smiled at Cassian, her voice saccharine. “She probably will like you. You’re so nice and funny, who wouldn’t like you?”

Cassian awkwardly muttered, “Thanks,” clearly flustered by the attention.

Morrigan and you exchanged a look. Rhys caught it too, his smirk widening as he picked up on the tension, he enjoyed the drama. You glanced at your watch, realizing you only had two minutes before your next lesson.

“Elain,” you said, your voice calm but firm, “Could you sit somewhere else? I’d like to sit next to my boyfriend.”

You knew she couldn’t refuse without drawing attention. With a quiet sigh, Elain gathered her things and wandered aimlessly, asking people around the room if she could sit next to them. You watched as Elain’s face turned red, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she awkwardly searched for a place to sit. 

She looked flustered, rejected by the group she had so confidently tried to insert herself into. It felt satisfying, seeing her brought down a notch. She deserved it after everything, the smug looks, the attitude, the way she’d tried to claim space that wasn’t hers and the way she dared to touch your Boyfriend.

She finally plopped down next to Irina, who shot a quick, knowing look at Calix. It seemed she was told about what had happened.

You settled down next to Azriel, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you.

He was blissfully unaware of the silent victory unfolding in your head. You couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at your lips, one that Morrigan mirrored.

But you knew a snake like her would strike again.

• •

School finally ended, you and your group strolled out of the school together, the sun still high in the sky. You were lingering by the gates, waiting for Azriel to finish his advanced chemistry class so you could drive home.

As you leaned against the railing, you told your friends what had happened.

“Damn,” Rhys said, shaking his head. “Seems like you’ve got an enemy.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t know her before?” he added, raising an eyebrow.

“No, Rhys, I didn’t,” you replied with a sigh.

“She’s a bitch,” Morrigan declared flatly, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall.

“Mmh,” Cassian muttered absentmindedly, his attention focused elsewhere. He was turned slightly away from the group, scanning the area, searching.

“You searching for Irina?” Morrigan teased.

Cass ignored her and frowned instead. “Since when are Eris and Irina friends?”

“Huh?” you all turned toward the gate at his words.

There she was, Irina, walking and talking with Eris. The two seemed friendly with eachother, their laughter carried by the breeze. Irina playfully shoved him and Eris, for once, didn’t look annoyed. Instead, he spoke with animated gestures, his face lit up in a way you rarely saw.

It was so different from the usual guarded, cold demeanor he wore like armor. Both of them were at ease, carefree, and it stirred something unfamiliar in your chest. A tug, faint but undeniable, made your stomach twist slightly.

You couldn’t look away, even as you told yourself it didn’t matter. It wasn’t your concern. And yet, the sight of them laughing together lingered in the back of your mind.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the strange feeling. Why did seeing him like that with her bother you so much?

“Babe,” Azriel called, breaking through your thoughts.

“Huh?” you blinked, realizing he’d been trying to get your attention.

“I called you multiple times. Let’s go,” he said, his voice clipped as he grabbed your hand, leading you toward the car.

• •

After dropping off the others one by one, the car grew quiet, almost uncomfortably so. It was just you and Azriel now.

He hadn’t spoken much the entire ride, only offering polite nods or brief words as he said goodbye to your friends. 

You stared out the window at the passing scenery, but your mind wandered back to the earlier scene with Eris and Irina. Something about it still lingered in your chest.

Azriel’s silence, however, soon pulled your attention. You turned to look at him, taking in his features, the sharp angle of his nose, the perfect bow of his lips, the long dark lashes that framed his striking hazel eyes, and the dark curls that fell messily over his forehead. He was gorgeous, as always, but it wasn’t his looks that drew your focus.

His posture was tense, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel, and his jaw ticked with barely restrained frustration.

He was angry.

“Az?” you asked softly, breaking the silence. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer right away, his lips pressing into a firm line as if he was weighing his words. The tension in the air was thick, and it made your heart race in uncertainty.

“Nothing,” Azriel muttered.

“Please, did something happen?” you pressed, your voice soft but insistent.

He shook his head, his jaw tightening as he pulled the car over to the side of the road. Turning to face you, his hazel eyes burned with emotion. “Why did you stare at Eris like that?”

You froze for a moment. He noticed. Shit.

“Because of Irina,” you explained quickly. “He was talking to Irina, and Cassian asked if they were friends. That’s why.”

Azriel stared at you, his expression unreadable. He was clearly thinking it over. You reached out and took his hand in yours, squeezing gently.

“Azriel, I only love you. You know that, right?”

He sighed, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “I just don’t like the way you two are so close. It’s hard to ignore.”

You shook your head, your voice firm yet reassuring. “Azriel, I wish I could avoid talking to him altogether, but our parents are close. His mom has even slept over at our house before, our dads golf together and our Brothers are in the same clubs. I don’t like it either, how he talks about you, or our relationship. He’s arrogant, obnoxious, and so damn annoying.” You paused, your lips quirking up into a small smirk.

“I only love you. You don’t have to worry about the ginger.”

Azriel let out a laugh at that, a genuine sound that made your chest warm. You watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he chuckled, and your breath caught. He was stunning when he laughed, his worry fading away. 

He noticed you staring, his lips curving into a shy smile. “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” you asked, your voice soft.

Azriel nodded, his cheeks slightly pink. 

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his, and the kiss deepened quickly. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

It grew hotter, more intense, as his free hand gripped your waist, and your fingers tangled in his hair.

You pulled away from the kiss, and Azriel let out a low whine. It wasn’t a sound you heard often, and it sent a shiver through you. His hand bunched the fabric of your white shirt, pulling you closer as he tried to capture your lips again. Both of you were breathless, his lips glistening with spit, and his eyes locked onto your mouth.

“Azriel, wait,” you managed, gently pushing him back.

He ignored your words, instead dipping down to press kisses along your neck. You gasped softly but pushed his hard chest.

“No hickeys, Az. I have to see my parents later.”

He groaned in protest, biting down lightly but just hard enough to make you gasp again. “Azriel,” you warned, your tone sharper now.

Suddenly, a thought struck you. “Azriel, is your mom home?”

He stilled, lifting his head to look at you. “No,” he said slowly, his brow furrowing. “Why?”

“When will she be back?” you asked, brushing your fingers gently through his hair.

“About six,” he replied, still confused. “Why?”

“Think, baby,” you said, caressing his scalp, your voice teasing but patient.

It took a moment, but realization dawned on him. His eyes widened slightly. “Oh.”

You nodded with a playful smirk. “Yes, Azriel. We can go to yours for a few hours.”

His lips twitched into a grin, and he leaned in to kiss your cheek as you laughed. 

He drove, his excitement now focused on getting home before the clock ran out.

• •

You were late. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

How could you forget?

Your mom had called you multiple times, you knew you were in trouble. Thankfully, your sister had covered for you, telling your parents you were at the library.

Slipping into the house as quietly as possible through the back door, you silently crept upstairs.

From the hallway, you could hear your father and Eris’s father laughing loudly downstairs.

Your heart raced as you tiptoed toward your room, opening the door slowly and shutting it behind you with a soft click.

You turned around and nearly screamed.

There, sitting at your desk, was Eris. His long legs, in black pants, stretched out comfortably as he leaned back in your chair, a painting of yours held delicately in his hands.

His golden-red hair caught the faint light from the desk lamp, but his amber eyes were focused on the artwork.

“Eris, what the fuck are you doing here?” you hissed, your voice low to avoid drawing attention. Fucking psycho! How did he get in? Why was he even here?

He didn’t respond right away. He held one of your more personal pieces, a ballerina staring at her  reflection in a broken mirror. Her red, tear-filled eyes glared back at herself, mascara and tears streaking down her face. Bound in her hair were white feathers. Immense rage in her expression. It was a piece that helped you remember your pain and how far you’d push yourself to reach perfection.

“It’s beautiful,” Eris whispered, his voice softer than you’d ever heard.

Your heart hammered in your chest, faster than before. “Put it down,” you said, though your tone lacked conviction.

“Is it you?” he asked, finally looking up at you.

“Yes,” you admitted hesitantly.

Eris turned the painting back to study it for a moment before meeting your gaze again. There was something in his eyes, something vulnerable, something you didn’t expect.

“You’re incredible,” he said, his voice so soft it almost didn’t register. 

For a moment, you forgot to breathe. The words were simple, but the way he said them, the sincerity in his tone, made your chest tighten.

No one had ever said that to you before, not about your art. Azriel hyped you up sometimes, but mostly saw it like your parents, a silly hobby you could enjoy to keep you entertained. Even Miss Norton had pushed you away for Elain and saw it less then hers. 

But art was more than that, it was a lifeline for you, it was like a diary where you expressed your emotions.

You never showed anyone your personal pieces, not even Azriel. This painting, raw and emotional, was yours alone - until now.

Licking your dry lips, you asked, “How did you get in here?”

Getting up, his hands casually shoved into his pockets, Eris began to walk toward you. One hand slid out to push his hair back before ruffling it slightly. He chuckled softly under his breath, a sound low enough to unnerve you.

It was the quick shift in his demeanour, the way he was always unpredictable, it made your stomach tighten.

Even as you took a step back, he didn’t stop. His strides were slow but purposeful, his presence quickly filling the space until your back hit the wall.

Your heart raced, but you tilted your chin up, meeting his sharp gaze head-on. You straightened up, you weren’t afraid, it was your house after all, he could not intimidate you.

“I opened the door,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural, normal thing in the world.

You scoffed. “Why?”

“I wanted to see the reason,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “The reason why your art is tucked away in some insignificant little corner if it’s not worth looking at.”

He lightly tugged at a strand of hair that had fallen in your face. Your jaw clenched, the anger bubbling beneath your skin. Every instinct was telling you to punch him, to push him away.

Before you could react, his hand brushed your throat.

Eris didn’t seem fazed, his gaze still locked on you, unblinking. He smirked slightly, clearly enjoying the way he riled you up.

“But,” he continued, softly brushing against of your neck, “it turns out it’s the best I’ve ever seen from any artist. Way better than that Archeron kid’s work.”

Your eyes widened as you grabbed his wrist, your pulse hammering beneath his palm. His tenderness was a stark contrast to the way he spoke to you and watched you. It was as if he was trying to see every emotion, every reaction from you, how far you would let him go. It was too intimate.

It made your head spin, he was testing your boundaries, and the next, his touch was almost considerate. 

It left you feeling unsettled, confused, angry at how easily he seemed to have the upper hand, how easily he could shift the power dynamic, the way he asserted control.

“How do you know about that?” you demanded, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Irina,” he said simply, smirking.

Of course. That’s why he was talking to her. He probably already knew about Cassians little crush on her and thats why he made her laugh for him. 

Manipulative fuck

“But don’t worry,” he murmured, his thumb still stroking the sensitive skin of your throat. “I’ll take care of it.”

“What?” you asked, confused and uneasy. His words sounded more like a threat than reassurance.

“Eris, what do you mean?” you demanded.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, his smirk deepening.

“Worry about the marks your boyfriend left.”

Your heart skipped as his grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly. The room seemed to shrink around you, his intense stare rooting you in place.

Eris’ gaze darkened, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips.

“Maybe you should Take a shower before your parents get suspicious of why you smell like that,” he said, his tone a little too sharp.

“You wouldn’t want them to find out about what you’ve been up to, would you?”

You clenched your jaw at his words, irritation bubbling inside you. “Don’t worry about me. Take care of your own issues. I’ll handle mine.”

“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” he taunted, pushing you further over the edge.

Without thinking, you slapped him hard. His head snapped to the side, his cheek turning bright red, and the sting of the slap echoed in the air.

Furious, you slapped him again, pushing him backward until he fell onto your bed. You crawled over him, straddling his waist as you glared down at him.

“Why do you keep pushing me, Eris?” you spat, your voice low and tense.

“Why do you always make fun of me or threaten me? What do you gain from it? I’m not a toy, and I’m not scared of you.”

You placed your hands on his throat, the anger in your chest burning hotter. But before you knew it, he had pinned you beneath him. His body pressed between your soft thighs, your skirt pushed up around your waist, and all you could feel was his weight, his part touching another and the heat of his breath against you lips.

You were beyond furious now, you pushed him again. Your hands gripped his shirt, your nails digging into the fabric. You heard the fabric rip as you tugged harder, buttons were flying, you were unable to stop yourself. You scratched him leaving red marks on his chest. 

He grunted, his eyes narrowed, his posture shifting to overpower you. You fought back, not willing to give an inch, your breath coming in sharp bursts.

The confrontation had escalated, your bodies tumbled down. His hand gripped your wrists, his touch firm as he tried to gain control, but you weren’t backing down.

“I won’t be treated like this,” you spat, words dripping with anger.

He stared at you, lips curled in a mocking half-smile. “You think I’m the problem here?”

“I don’t care what you think anymore.”

His grip on you tightened as he leaned in, pushing his hips into yours from behind, his voice low and controlled. “You started this, not me.”

Before you could headbutt him, the door suddenly swung open. Both of your parents stood there, frozen in shock, their eyes wide. Both of your mothers gasping loudly, the sound of it echoing through the room.

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters @lilah-asteria

Broken Doll Taglist: @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @lilah-asteria @onebadassunicorn @anainkandpaper

[a-passing-storm]

GUYSSS!!! I AM. SO TERRIFIED/EXCITED. SO.

One of the colleges that I applied to... apparently I can now view my Acceptance Decision in, like, the college portal! I told my mother that I would wait until she gets home, though, before I see what it is, but now I am in waiting mode!!! So severely!!!

It's to a school that is, like... technically it's a safety school, but it's kind of my second choice, but like... oh dear. Most likely I got accepted, but if I didn't get accepted, than I am a little fucked.

[oh-stars]

Now that I’m back working retail, I can’t get the image of Corroded Coffin becoming one of the vintage band tees you see on graphic tee walls. They’d be up there with Metallica and Black Sabbath, made for everyone to wear for the fashion of it rather than their love of the band.

Everyone would expect Eddie to be outraged when it first starts to happen — all these fake fans and posers wearing his merch without knowing who he is at all. And at first, sure he didn’t love it but at the same time… money is money and he’s got kids to put through school. His own are already out of college, with their fancy degrees and stable jobs, but a slew of nieces and nephews, and a few great ones now (Jesus Christ he’s old) from the Party that are even smarter than their genius parents and those tuitions aren’t cheap. Famous Uncle Eddie feels like it’s his duty to help with their tuitions to the ivys or whatever, so if Jenny, the wine mom from down the street, wants to wear a brand new, yet distressed tee with the logo he designed across the chest? Let her!

That being said, he doesn’t start loving it until they eventually reach the toddler section. Suddenly, Eddie — who previously had no opinion on whether or not his kids had kids — is begging all three of their kids for grand babies. And he’s not being subtle about it either. He buys the onesies and toddler tees, leaving them where Steve and the kids can see, shipping new designs to his kids “just in case.” All he wants is to see a baby, preferably one he knows, all done up in his merch, repping the band in a matching metal outfit. It’s not his fault all his own babies are two decades past the baby phase!

Steve doesn’t intervene, no matter how much their kids beg and plead. If anything, he thinks it’s hilarious that suddenly Eddie’s the one all baby crazy after the years of him laughing at Steve’s baby fever. Sue him.

[steddieas-shegoes]

don't want to move on

for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt 'make-up sex'

rated e | 18+, minors dni | 3165 words | read all tags on ao3

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

If Steve knows one thing, it’s that Eddie knows how to get under his skin and in his bed.

Ever since their breakup, a disaster of epic proportions for the entire friend group, Steve’s kept his distance from every possible interaction with Eddie. He’s made sure to find reasons to miss group outings and put himself on the schedule at work on the nights when he knew Eddie would be at movie nights or dinner. He purposely scheduled pool parties for days and times he knew Eddie would be busy.

But he couldn’t get out of this one.

And now he has Eddie’s eyes on him from across the room, staring into his soul, reading his mind probably.

It makes him want to hide. Or take his pants off.

He hasn’t quite decided yet.

“Are you gonna glare at him all night or go talk to him?” Jonathan asks from behind him.

Steve turns, feels ridiculous that he’s been caught, and crosses his arms across his chest defiantly.

“I’m gonna ignore him until he leaves and then excuse myself so I can sulk in peace,” Steve admits.

Robin was his platonic soulmate, but Jonathan has become a sort of unexpected best friend. He was there the morning after the breakup, barely holding Steve together with spoonfuls of peanut butter and reassuring words that didn’t stick quite as hard as the peanut butter. They got even closer after that, and hardly a day passed where Jonathan wasn’t texting Steve or showing up at his apartment with take out and stories from whatever modeling shoot he was working on.

“And you think he’s gonna let that happen?”

“If he knows what’s good for him.”

Jonathan snorts. “Okay. On that note, I’m gonna go check on Nancy. She got into the weed earlier and she’s probably at the stage where the walls are squiggly and she can feel her lungs touching her ribs.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he nods. He knows what she’s like at that point. Jonathan needs to get her home before everyone knows what she’s like at that point.

The moment Jonathan is gone, Eddie is walking towards him.

Steve’s never felt more like prey in his life, never seen Eddie strut like this. He’s frozen. He forgets how to breathe.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” are the first words Eddie says to him in six months.

No hello. No awkward exchange of pleasantries.

Just a mild accusation and a piercing look.

“I wouldn’t be if I’d known you’d be here,” he retorts, deciding to match his energy. If Eddie is allowed to be at this party of a mutual friend’s mutual friend, then Steve is too. “Didn’t even know Ivy had your number.”

Ivy was one of Nancy’s friends from school, and Steve had been invited to quite a few of her parties over the last few years. When they were together, Steve always brought Eddie, but he didn’t know if Ivy and Eddie had ever even met.

“I know Ivy pretty well, actually,” Eddie says in a way that makes Steve pause.

What the fuck does that mean?

“So you’re…friends?” Steve asks even though he thinks he knows where this is going and he thinks he’s gonna be sick if he’s right.

“Yeah.” Eddie smirks. “Friends.”

“Oh.”

Steve has to abort whatever mission he thought he was on. This is gonna end with him crying in front of Eddie and everyone else at this stupid party that he came to because he’d had a rough week and just wanted to have a drink with friends and-

“Are you gonna be sick?” Eddie asks, reaching out to him as if that would even help.

“No!” Steve backs away. “I just need to head out. Got an early morning.”

“On a Sunday? You don’t work Sundays.”

“And how would you know?”

Steve needs to leave. He can’t engage in anything else with Eddie. He won’t recover.

“Because you wouldn’t have come at all if you had work in the morning. And everyone you would hang out with is here.” Eddie steps closer to him. “Unless something’s changed?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not sure I owe you an explanation of my schedule.”

Eddie seems to realize that Steve’s right, taking a step back.

“Right. That’s true. I guess.”

And suddenly Steve can see how uncomfortable Eddie is, how much courage and energy it took him just to walk up to Steve at all. He’s always been pretty easy to read, at least for Steve, but right now it’s like he’s made of glass.

“How you been?” Steve asks, ignoring the pull he feels to the door for the pull he feels to Eddie.

“Um, good. Yeah, great. Fantastic. You?”

Steve raises a brow at the response. Eddie’s never been fantastic a day in his life.

Except maybe that one time he ate Steve out on a patio chair by the pool and then fucked him in his parent’s hot tub and claimed that he’d never been happier in his entire life.

“I’ve been fine.”

Not a lie. He has been fine most of the time. Fine isn’t anything special, or anything good.

“You look…good.” Eddie settles on, as if he was going to say something else entirely. “Still going to the gym?”

“Not as often as I should,” Steve admits. He’s about to call this quits when he sees Jonathan giving him a thumbs up from the doorway. “Uh. I should actually probably head out though.”

“Right. Yeah. Sure. Want me to let Ivy know you had to go?”

Steve shouldn’t fucking push. He knows he’s gonna end up hurt worse if he gets any form of confirmation on what he thinks is going on.

“I’ll just text her. But I guess if you see her before you go…”

“I mean, yeah, I’m kinda…living here right now?” Eddie rubs his hand along the back of his neck.

Steve thinks he might pass out.

He’s living with a woman not even six full months after he broke up with Steve because Steve wanted to take the next step and move in together?

He feels like he’s going crazy.

“With Ivy?” Steve can barely hear his own voice, doesn’t even know if Eddie hears him until he responds.

“I couldn’t renew my lease so she offered to let me stay here for a few months while I looked for something else,” he explains, as if that clears anything up. As if that helps the jealous fire in Steve’s heart calm. “That’s the only reason I’m even here tonight. I was off and she needed an extra pair of eyes to make sure no one tried to drive home after drinking.”

“Well, I haven’t even been drinking.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

“You think I’ve looked anywhere other than you since you walked in the door?”

Steve feels like his entire body is lifting above the floor, and he’s reminded that Eddie’s good at this. Flirting like he means it, using words but not wanting more than that.

That he may have feelings for Steve, but god forbid those feelings lead anywhere other than a bed or a date.

“Doesn’t seem appropriate to stare at me all night with your girlfriend in the next room.”

“Girlfriend? What? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Eddie seems genuinely confused, his brows furrowing as he looks around the room and back at Steve.

“Isn’t Ivy your girlfriend?”

“Ivy?! Ivy Jane? The woman who told me on day one of me living here that if she even so much as accidentally saw my dick she’d cut it off?” Eddie laughs, unamused. “She’s a friend at most. More of a useful annoyance.”

Steve is confused. Why did Eddie make it seem like there was more to it than that? Why couldn’t Eddie renew his lease? Why didn’t anyone tell him about any of this?

“Look, you probably shouldn’t head home on your own. I know you didn’t drink, but it’s still pretty late, and I know you walked here.” Eddie sighs. “Can I at least get you an Uber?”

“To go less than a mile?”

“Or I could walk you.”

“And then walk back alone?”

“You don’t have to argue with everything, you know,” Eddie grumbles. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”

“I didn’t know ex-boyfriends cared that much.”

It’s a low blow and Eddie’s physical withdrawal is immediate. Steve instantly feels bad.

No matter what happened between them, he knows Eddie. He knows he’s trying to be nice and all Steve’s doing is making that task more difficult.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Steve sighs. “I’m just surprised that you’d care this much when we haven’t even talked in months.”

“Steve, I’ll always care about you.”

It’s a knife to his chest.

Because that’s not even remotely close to what Eddie had said to him months ago when he was throwing his shit in a bag and running as fast as he could. It’s not how he made Steve feel when he told him they were done.

”I’m not gonna keep pretending this can end well for either of us.”

He’d made it pretty obvious he had no intention of loving Steve beyond the year they spent together, and Steve had no choice but to assume he’d been faking feelings for him to try to get over him.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s let tears fall until Eddie’s thumbs are brushing them away, his touch so soft it makes Steve want to sob.

Before he can say anything or push Eddie away, Eddie’s hand is on his lower back, guiding him down the hallway of the apartment.

He doesn’t fight it, even though alarm bells are ringing in his head telling him to pause and go home, maybe try to talk to Eddie when he’s calmed down from the shock of seeing him. The warmth of Eddie next to him is enough to silence any fears he has.

He’s sitting on Eddie’s bed. The room is surprisingly plain for a room that belongs to Eddie, but the sheets on the bed are scattered and one pillow looks more like a ball, so he knows it’s his. Eddie sleeps the same way he talks: constantly moving, shuffling around, trying to find comfort in touch.

“I’ll take the couch once everyone leaves. You probably shouldn’t be alone right now,” Eddie says from in front of him, keeping his hands to himself.

He probably shouldn’t, but if Eddie’s on the couch, doesn’t that leave him alone anyway?

“You can come get me if you need anything,” Eddie explains further. “And I can come check on you.”

“Right,” Steve’s voice is shaky. “But you could stay?”

Eddie’s eyes are scanning his face, always trying to see what Steve isn’t saying. He’s always been good about reading Steve.

“Is that what you want?” Eddie eventually asks.

Steve nods because he can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound like he’s desperate for more of Eddie’s touch.

He lays down and waits for Eddie to join him, but he’s not sure what he’s hoping for anymore. The best thing to do would be to tell Eddie he changed his mind and send him to the couch, the second best would probably be to go home. But what ends up happening is Eddie locks the bedroom door and slips his shoes off, strips his jeans down his legs, and slides into bed with him.

He doesn’t touch him at first, though the bed isn’t quite big enough for them to not accidentally brush arms as they find comfortable positions.

Steve lets his eyes close, even though he’s never felt more awake, even though he feels every breath Eddie takes as if it’s his own.

“I love you.”

Steve’s eyes shoot open at Eddie’s whispered confession.

They were together for a year and Eddie never said it. Steve didn’t even say it for fear of Eddie running. And when he finally did say it, when he had the nerve to ask him to move in with him, Eddie ran.

So, he couldn’t have possibly heard what he thought he just heard.

“I know it’s too late. I should’ve told you six months ago.” Eddie scoffed at his own words. “Actually, I should’ve told you when I realized it on our third date. There’s no excuse. You told me why you were hesitant to tell people how you felt and I should’ve known it would be harder for you than it would be for me.”

Steve turns on his side, eyes wide as he takes in the way Eddie’s eyes are slowly blinking up at the ceiling, fingers tapping anxiously against his own stomach.

“Why did you leave, then? If you loved me, why did you let me think you didn’t?”

Steve’s impressed with his sudden ability not to cry when he’d so easily let tears fall earlier.

Eddie turns his head. His fingers still. The room is silent, but Steve can feel the vibrations of the music playing down the hall.

“I don’t know.”

It’s anticlimactic, and not good enough, but Steve believes him. He believes that Eddie truly doesn’t know his own thought process behind walking away from what could’ve been a good future for them.

“Why say it now?”

“Because I needed you to leave here in the morning knowing that what you were asking for wasn’t unreasonable. I needed you to know that your feelings were fine, and that nothing you did pushed me away. You deserve the chance to move on properly.”

Steve can feel his heart in every nerve ending of his body, pulsing to a wild beat, a dangerous tempo that he isn’t sure he wants to control. Eddie always made him feel like this, like he was one step away from jumping off a ledge, like he was flying through the air without a parachute.

“I don’t want to move on.”

Steve crushes his lips to Eddie’s, letting out a pained groan that’s muffled by Eddie’s lips pushing against his own. It’s not soft, not even gross the way their kisses got when they’d been sweaty and pushing each other to their limits for hours.

It was forgiveness and yearning and need wrapped into a single point of contact.

But once Eddie’s hands found Steve’s hips, all he wanted was to feel Eddie everywhere.

“Missed you,” he admits breathlessly.

“Missed you, too, Stevie. So much,” Eddie gasps against his mouth.

It doesn’t take long for them to strip out of their clothes, for Eddie’s mouth to find all of Steve’s sensitive spots, for bruises to be left in places that will be hard to cover up tomorrow. They’re both panting, trying to hide moans against the pillows and sweaty skin.

Steve laughs when Eddie’s lips trail down to the head of his leaking cock.

Eddie looks up, frowning as if he’s disappointed that he was interrupted.

“What could you possibly be laughing at?”

“How easy it was to get me in your bed. Did you know I was coming tonight?” He does his best not to sound accusatory, but a small part of him worries that Eddie’s plan all night has been to get him naked. It wouldn’t be the first time those were his intentions.

“I had no idea you’d be here,” Eddie nips at his thigh. “But if I did, I would’ve planned this exact outcome, yeah.”

Steve slaps at his shoulder but moans when Eddie’s lips wrap around the head of his cock, tongue lapping up the precum that had been gathering for a while.

They get lost in it, in being able to touch each other, in finally having what they’d both missed for so long. Steve’s hands hardly ever leave Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s tongue is like a magnet to every inch of his skin.

He kisses down his length, he sucks bruises into his thighs, he sucks his cock until Steve’s trembling under him, saying his name over and over. Begging, praying, he didn’t even know anymore.

Steve doesn’t even realize he’s close until Eddie’s asking if he wants to finish like this or with Eddie inside him.

“Want you inside, but I don’t know if I can last that long,” Steve pouts. Now that he feels the coil in his belly and the flush of his chest and neck, he knows there’s no way he’ll make it through Eddie stretching him. He’s half-tempted to just have Eddie fuck him with no prep, but Eddie will never go for it. “C’mere?”

Eddie kisses his way up Steve’s body, biting a nipple and licking sweat from his collarbone before settling perfectly between his legs. He’s smiling down at Steve like he could stay there all night, like he didn’t just get interrupted in the middle of one of the best blowjobs of Steve’s life.

“Can we just…” Steve tilts his hips up so his cock rubs against Eddie’s. Both of them groan as Eddie hangs his head. “Like this?”

Eddie nods before resting his forehead against Steve’s and letting out a breath.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he whispers, like it’s a secret that he’s been getting off making Steve feel good.

“Me either. ‘S okay.”

Their cocks brush together as Eddie leans down on his elbows. Steve lifts his legs up to wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him down so there’s a constant friction between them.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you,” Steve’s breath catches on his words.

Eddie’s hips move faster, and Steve does his best to meet every thrust. They’re in sync as if they were never apart, and Steve thinks this is all he needs for the rest of his life.

He knew that before, when they were together, and after Eddie left. But feeling it now, with Eddie above him, surrounding him, practically sharing his breaths, he knows Eddie’s it for him.

That thought is what sends him over the edge.

He cups Eddie’s cheek in his hand and pulls him into a searing kiss, one that’s more tongue and teeth than lips, more passion than finesse.

But it sends Eddie over the edge, too.

After, when they’ve stopped shaking and Eddie used his t-shirt to wipe up their mess, Steve taps his fingers against Eddie’s chest in a familiar pattern.

“Since when do you know the beat to a Metallica song?” Eddie asks, smirking down at him.

“It’s what you always used to tap on my arm when we were falling asleep. I didn’t know it was Metallica,” Steve yawns as he speaks, exhaustion seeping through every pore of his body.

“You remembered that?”

“Mhm. Remember everything.” He yawns again and lets his eyes close.

He’s pretty sure Eddie starts tapping a new pattern on his arm as he drifts to sleep. He doesn’t recognize it, but he’ll have plenty of time to learn this one, and the next one, and whatever else the future brings for them.

[narrycherries]

ivy: how’s one to know..

(enemies to lovers) harry is just an ass and (Y/n) is just a stranger

masterlist // ivy series

word count: 8.6k

warnings/tags: enemies to lovers, harry x reader, fem reader, angst

[before you start: I wrote the female character with a description (blonde, blue eyes, short, thicker build) but of course feel free to change the descriptors to whatever you prefer!]

The holiday season had wrapped up a handful of days ago and things were slowly starting to go back to normal. The sparkling strings of lights decorating neighborhoods and businesses all around the city were being taken down and shoved back in their storage boxes until the last month of the year circled around again. The weather was staying consistent, though. The gloomy overcast skies and chilly wind that whipped through the streets were enough to keep people bundled up and wishing for spring to arrive.

Most people she knew enjoyed the holidays a lot more than she did. Sure, she loved to see the colorful lights lining roofs and windows of boutiques and restaurants along the main strip. There was something so juvenile, so innocent about the giddy feeling that would fill her stomach as she saw a pile of fake presents and a decorated tree in a shop window. Somewhere deep down inside of her heart, she still had that spark that a child would have.

When she was growing up, she sought happiness during the holidays by admiring other people’s outdoor decorations or gazing in awe at the displays put up in her schools. She didn’t have what most people had that she went to school with, but she tried to be grateful, even as a young chlid, and appreciate what surrounded her.

A strong sadness was building in her chest as she slid the ceramic Santa Claus into his box to pack him away with the other Christmas decorations. She thought about the many years she questioned if Santa was real. There were so many nights when she’d squeeze her eyes shut and whisper out loud, her knees on the floor as she put her elbows into the mattress. There was so much hope in her. She believed that if she wished and prayed and dreamed enough, Santa would leave a present or two on the coffee table next to her dad’s stained coffee mug. There wasn’t a tree most of the years of her childhood, but her dad give gift her things (there was no magical Santa though). There were no twinkling lights outside of her window, hanging down from the roof with a clumsy droop. There were no ornaments to place on the branches of a fake tree, lined with a dusty skirt that would be covered with presents. There were no fresh baked cookies and steaming hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. The television never displayed joyful Christmas movies and specials. The radio on the kitchen counter never once sang a tune of a wintery song about snow and ice. No, none of that. It was just her dad, her brother, and herself for a while.

“Did you keep the box for this guy?” Emma’s curious voice snapped her from her trance.

She cleared her throat and looked up from her spot on the living room rug. Her ‘new’ roommate was holding a ceramic snowman who’s decorated style matched the Santa she just put away. She reached into the plastic storage container and grabbed the box, passing it up to Emma.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks, (Y/n).” She smiled back, noticing that there was a glimmer of disappoint on her face, but she didn’t mention it to her. “You didn’t have to put everything away so fast. I would’ve been fine with it for a few more weeks.”

Emma had just moved in before Christmas. Her things were half way unpacked throughout the small house they now shared.

“I didn’t want it to crowd you. Besides, Christmas is over.” (Y/n)’s tone was partially rough as she began to pack away the miniature houses placed across the console table that the television hung above.

“I’m so excited to actually be here, like, full time. Niall’s a bit upset.. but I told him he’d survive.” She said with a laugh as she started to collect the small figurines that went with the village.

“I’m excited, too. I’m glad you’re actually up for decorating the space and not just.. letting me do it all. My last roommate was not particularly outgoing.” (Y/n) snickered at the thought, knowing she wouldn’t be missing that person at all. The girl was nice and all, but she was quite boring.

“Oh, totally! I’ve already got some stuff I want to show you in my room. Maybe we could put it out here or something.”

“I’m fine with anything as long as it’s cute.” She shot her friend a grin.

Emma wasn’t a new friend by any means. They met early on while they were both at university. Emma was actually her first partner for a project in one of their biology classes. They met on the third day of class and became friends very quickly. Their chemistry went far beyond the confines of the science lab. Emma was joyful and adventurous and offered (Y/n) that motivating spark to actually go out and have fun. Not that (Y/n) couldn’t match Emma’s energy once her veins were filled with alcohol, she just didn’t go out as much.

“Speaking of Niall, I haven’t seen him a while. How’s he doing?”

A proud smile crept to Emma’s lips. “He’s been good. But he’s been super busy with the store.. almost never get to spend time during the actual day with him.”

“But it’s going well, the store, I mean? Like he’s having success?”

Emma nodded. “It’s been great. I told him it would do good around here, especially with the college students. And besides, people are always looking for music lessons. I’m glad he took my advice and decided to offer those through the business.”

Niall was an excellent musician, or so (Y/n) has been told. She hadn’t actually seen him play anything in person, only through recordings and videos Emma had shown her. She knew Niall was talented, though. He played the guitar and the bass, both of which seemed entirely too complicated in (Y/n)’s mind. When they started dating last year, Niall was in the midst of finalizing a business plan and opening his music store. Emma told her all about it, including her fears and anxiety about the situation - but only because she was afraid Niall would get so caught up in the store that he would abandon their relationship. Niall ended up not doing that, obviously, and was able to balance everything in his life. He and Emma would be celebrating their one year anniversary on Valentine’s Day - which (Y/n) thought was particularly sweet and romantic.

“I’m glad everything’s working out.”

The store opened back in the summer, and (Y/n) had only gone by once to see the place. It was in a part of town she didn’t frequent very often, so the opportunity to casually stroll in was rare. It wasn’t like it was Emma’s store. While she did know Niall well enough to refer to him as a friend, she wasn’t close with him. She was supportive, of course, but not overly involved.

“He’s coming by later to help me put together the dresser. Well.. he’s going to do it for me, not help me.” She snickered as she joined (Y/n) on the floor to start gently laying the mini figurines in a small cardboard box they knew as home.

“I can make dinner if you’d like. Niall likes that pasta I make, right?”

“Yeah! He actually asked me about that a few weeks ago. He said I have to get your recipe.” She grinned back, rolling her eyes at the thought of her boyfriend’s obsession with food.

“He’s only had it like twice.. but it’s flattering to know I’m such a good chef.” (Y/n) laughed under her breath. “I’ll give you the recipe.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent on putting away the last of the decorations and moving them into the hallway closet. The box fit perfectly in the bottom of the closet. Emma disappeared into her room to continue unboxing her belongings. (Y/n) was mostly occupied with dusting the wood furniture and wiping down the kitchen. She liked a neat, tidy home and she was very glad to know that Emma did as well. She checked the cabinets to make sure she had the ingredients required for the pasta she’ll be making later on.

Every now and then, she’d hear a crash of something hitting the floor come from the hallway, presumably from Emma’s room. She would just giggle to herself as Emma’s dramatic cries of curses and sighs would fill the small home. Despite being friends for a handful of years, they had never lived in the same space before. Even while at university when it was mandatory for them to live on campus, they lived in different dorm buildings. Emma was in a sorority and definitely more comfortable with herself than (Y/n) was. She kept to her small dorm with her roommate, whom she didn’t have anything in common with but she was kind to her. If she were being honest, she thought Emma would try to move in with Niall once her old lease had expired. But, Niall was comfortable where he was in his apartment and he already had a roommate. As much as Emma wanted to live with him, it was just too soon anyway. They tossed around the idea, but (Y/n) mentioned to her that perhaps she needed to wait, just in case. Niall wasn’t upset with Emma’s decision to move elsewhere, as long as she was in the city close to him. (Y/n) was also informed that Niall’s roommate wasn’t too keen on letting someone else share their space. She had never met him before, didn’t even know his name, but she couldn’t blame them. She wouldn’t want her house to be permanently crowded either. Niall let Emma stay over there a lot, though, but spending the night for the weekend or on a random weekday when it was too late to drive back home was different than staying full time. And of course, Niall was allowed over whenever he wanted and she made that clear to Emma before she signed the lease. As long as he respected their home and didn’t leave a mess behind, he was welcomed.

A gentle sigh slipped past her thick lips as she trailed back to the living room. The open concept of the front of the home meant the living room was attached to the kitchen with no barrier other than the island. She sat down on the end of the couch, the damp kitchen towel she used to wipe down the furniture sat on the side table. She picked it up, along with the framed photo that was next to the pretty gold lamp. The gold of the frame didn’t quite match the lamp, but it was still beautiful to her. The ornate metal that decorated the frame was cold as she carefully rubbed the pads of her fingers over it. She stared at the photograph locked behind the glass, the speed of her heart beating increased only slightly.

The image was of her and her mother when she was around three years old. It was Halloween, she was dressed in a pink dress that was modeled after Princess Aurora, and her hair was curled and a little makeup playfully swept over her features. Her mother was dressed in a Cinderella themed costume, her matching golden blonde hair curled, too, and pinned up. It wasn’t the last holiday they spent together, but it was one of the only ones (Y/n) remembered. She doubted herself at times about the memory - she was only three and a half, did she actually remember it or was she imagining it? Despite always doubting herself, she knew too well that the memory was burned into her brain. She can remember the smell of the burning iron as her mom curled her hair. She remembers getting tickled by the fluffy makeup brush as a bit was applied to her face just to add to the illusion. She remembers the taste of the mini chocolate bar her mom unwrapped for her in the car in between neighborhoods - the night was full of trick or treating and giggles and squeals. She even remembered the way her mom’s hand carefully adjusted her curls when they got caught in the zip of (Y/n)’s costume. It was a memory she held dear to her heart, one she prayed she’d never lose. (Y/n) had always tried her hardest to find things to fill in the void of not having her mother around. But no matter how determined she was, nothing ever seemed to be enough. She found joy in little things, like collecting whatnots and trinkets that reminded her of the ones that littered her house when her mom was alive. She enjoyed searching for squirrels and birds in the park, collecting odd looking rocks during her walks, listening to her favorite songs on repeat, and a plethora of other things. But nothing could really fill the space in her heart.. It was quite a big space, after all.

That evening, after the sun nestled below the horizon and stars littered the dark winter sky, Emma invited Niall over for dinner. It was third day of actually staying here, since she opted to spend two weeks with Niall for Christmas between her parent’s place and his. (Y/n) was working on preparing the ingridents for the pasta when Niall knocked and was let in with a grinning Emma planting a kiss to his mouth. He laughed and brushed her off, not a big fan of showing affection in front of other people, even though he knew (Y/n) wasn’t watching.

“Hey, long time no see!” Niall said with a smile as he followed Emma into the kitchen.

(Y/n)’s eyes glanced over her shoulder. “Hi, Niall. It’s been a while, yeah?”

“I think you guys haven’t seen each other since the day we moved my crap in.” Emma said with a slight unsure tone.

“Your crap that still isn’t unpacked.” Niall sighed as he leaned against the counter, his arms crossing on his chest.

(Y/n) chuckled to herself as Emma began to give him excuses for why her things weren’t put away and in their new spots yet. The list included things like being busy with work, having errands to run, and of course ‘spending all my time with you’ that made Niall smack his lips and give her a sarcastic ‘okay, sure’.

They kept up their banter for a bit while (Y/n) rinsed her hands at the sink. She had finished everything she needed to do before actually cooking the food. When she turned towards them, Niall was peering his eyes into the pot of boiling water, frowning as he saw it was empty.

“She’s making the pasta you said you like.” Emma said as she grabbed his forearm to tug him away from the oven.

“Oh, really? That stuff was so good.” Niall’s eyes shot to (Y/n)’s. “I want a whole pot of it for my birthday, please and thanks.”

She shook her head in disbelief as a laugh rolled out of her mouth. “Isn’t your birthday in September?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, just don’t want ya to forget.”

“C’mon, let's start with the dresser, Niall. Let (Y/n) cook.” Emma said after checking the time on her phone. “We’ll clean up the kitchen after dinner, okay? Don’t worry about it!”

“Alright, that’s fine. I’ll let you know when it's done.”

And just like that, she was alone in the kitchen again. It didn’t bother her to be alone, she had been for most of her life, especially her late teenage and adult years. Finding something to occupy her bored mind was not a new task for her to learn. She opted for sitting at the small dining table after setting the timer on the oven in case she forgot to check the time.

(Y/n) pulled her phone from the pocket of her sweatpants and started to maneuver through the notifications that had come through since she last checked. One was a message from a random company that was offering a sale this coming weekend, there were two texts from Niall - the first asking if he needed to bring anything, the second saying Emma told him not to and to just ignore the text - the rest were random notifications from different apps.

Her attention went to her photo app as she scrolled to a few days ago, just a day or so after the New Year began. She went for a walk in the park close by one day during lunch when she had nothing else to do. She snapped a few photos of little random things, like a wild flower that had somehow managed to survive the low temperature, a bird that was perched on top of the black metal fence that lined the park, and a snapshot of the sky with the clouds parting in such a way that made it look like heaven. After having lost so much in life, she learned and forced herself to appreciate the little things that were around. Details of daily life, like the fall of a leaf to the ground or the chirp of a bird in a tree, were almost therapeutic for her.

Dinner didn’t take too long to cook, but the dresser was seeming to take much longer than Emma had expected it to. When (Y/n) knocked on the bedroom door and stuck her head in, she grinned as she saw Niall sitting on the floor with his head thrown back and Emma pacing the room with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Her once neatly fixed dark hair was messily tied in a bun on the back of her head. The instruction booklet for the dresser was laid out in between Niall’s legs, along with a torn bag of hardwear.

“Food’s ready.” She said with a singsong voice that made Niall pop his head up.

“Finally.” He quickly rose to his feet and grabbed Emma’s wrist, tugging her behind him as they followed (Y/n) down the hall and towards the kitchen.

“Eat as much as you want, I made plenty.” She said as she let them make a bowl first.

“Don’t have to tell him twice.” Emma’s mouth shaped to a smile as Niall practically pushed her aside to be first.

“Guests eat first, right?” He joked as he gave them both a quick glance, a smirk on his face as he grabbed the serving utensil.

Once the three of them had fixed what they wanted and claimed a spot at the table, (Y/n) offered to grab everyone something to drink. Emma and herself chose a glass of ice water while Niall requested a Coke. Emma had just brought home a box this morning after her quick run to the grocery store. The food appeared to be a big hit as Niall scarfed it down, spitting out compliments and satisfied hums that made the girls giggle and roll their eyes jokingly at him.

“Em told me the store is doing great.”

Niall nodded as he sipped his drink. “Yeah, it’s been good, actually. I’m glad.”

“I’m glad you do the lessons. I told her that people are coming in pretty much all day long.” Emma said.

“Yeah, if it’s not someone who’s into music already or just curiously out shopping.. The sign about the lessons really brings people in. And even if they don’t go through with it, they end up looking around and finding something.” Niall told them with a pleased smile, he was relieved his business was staying crowded and people actually enjoyed coming to the store.

“Did you end up finding someone to teach the guitar lessons? I know Emma said something about you were looking for someone else, since you got so busy with your bookings.”

“Yeah, my roommate actually. He’s decent at guitar and he’s just working with the beginners. I’m sticking to the people who sorta know how to play around that just wanna get better.”

(Y/n) nodded as she took another bite. “That’s good.”

The cooking had made the kitchen a bit warmer than it was before, so she pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. The exposure of the small tattoo on the inside of (Y/n)’s elbow caught Emma’s eye.

“Oh!” She chirped suddenly, making Niall flinch. “I forgot to tell you, (Y/n), I’m getting a tattoo in a few weeks. Already got my appointment.”

“Oh, really? Where at this time?” (Y/n) asked with genuine curiosity.

“On my foot. Just a cute little flower. Niall says it's going to hurt.”

(Y/n) squinted her eyes and pursed her lips. “You don’t have any, do you?”

Niall chuckled. “No, but I’ve been told the foot is terrible.”

“I’m not a baby, Niall. It’s not my first one. Besides, Zayn said it would be fine since I’m used to the feeling.”

“Zayn is lying to you to spare your feelings and get your money. He is my friend, I think I'd know when he lies.” Niall was only teasing her, but it brought a flush to Emma’s cheeks.

“Shut up.” She mumbled through a pout.

(Y/n) was amused by their interaction, but she chose to move on with the conversation so Emma wouldn’t get too sensitive. She wasn’t over emotional or anything, but sometimes she would get embarrassed if Niall playfully taunted her in front of other people.

“Zayn.. is that the guy I met that time at the bar?” (Y/n) couldn’t remember the person’s name, but she was sort of sure that it was the same person they’re referring to.

Niall nodded to her. “Yeah. The one with all the tattoos.. I would say the one with the black hair but right now it’s platinum blonde.” The lift of Niall’s brows made her think that maybe he didn’t approve of the look, but he had no choice but to accept it.

“I thought that was the same guy. I’m pretty sure he told me he owned a shop.”

“He’s the best around.” Emma said with a laugh. “Plus.. he gives me a discount.”

“You’re welcome for that.” Niall puckered his lips and leaned her direction, demanding a kiss that he knew he wouldn’t get.

“Hush.” She pushed her fingers to his mouth and gently shoved his head back.

He laughed at her reaction. “Just saying, Em. He’s my friend.. like I said before.”

Emma ignored him and turned her eyes to (Y/n). “Anyway, Niall can’t come with me.. so I was going to see if you wanted to go.”

“I can see if I can.. just let me know the date and time.”

“Alright. I will. Niall, don’t be a pig.” She groaned as she saw he had slipped from the table and was at the stove, piling his bowl full again.

“Let him eat it. That way we won’t have to worry about leftovers.”

Emma shook her head. “He’d eat the actual house if you’d let him.”

—•—

(Y/n) was puckering her lips in the mirror of the car visor as she applied her lip balm. It was chilly outside and the weather wasn’t being kind to her skin at all. She huffed as she saw the patch of dry skin right in the middle of her forehead. She had just applied her moisturizer before they loaded in the car to drive to the tattoo shop. Emma was driving, and every now and then she’d glance (Y/n)’s way and notice she was still staring in the mirror.

“What’s the matter?” She finally asked as (Y/n) slid the cover over the mirror and flipped the visor up, her back hitting the seat as she felt defeated.

“My skin is horrible right now.” She rolled her eyes to herself, upset that it was bothering her this much. It was just a bit of dry skin and chapped lips, she shouldn’t be so affected by it.. but she was. “Even my lips are dying.”

Emma smiled. “I’m sure lots of people are struggling right now. I’ve got a dry spot on my cheek. It’s been there for a few days. Just the weather.”

“But it's annoying. Y’know my hormones are whacky sometimes.. feel like as soon as I get it under control, I break out or have something like this happen.”

“When we get home, we can look up some different products. Maybe we can find something better for seasonal dryness. My cream isn’t working either.”

(Y/n) shrugged and took out her phone to mindlessly look through one of her social media apps. “Yeah, we can do that.”

Even though the shop wasn’t too far from where they lived, Emma didn’t want to walk in the cold and she didn’t want to have to cover the tattoo with thick, tight shoes afterwards. So, (Y/n) agreed to drive back after they left, and after they grabbed some food. The shop was right around the corner, and it caught (Y/n)’s attention as they turned onto the street. It was just off the main road of the downtown area. The street was lined with different restaurants, stores, thrifting spots, boutiques, and a few law firm offices and an emergency clinic that stayed open during the weekend. She was familiar with the area, and had actually looked towards the tattoo shop’s sign plenty of times. They pulled into a spot and Emma took in a deep breath before pulling the keys out.

“Are you nervous?” (Y/n) said with an amused grin plastered over her lips as she opened the car door.

“What if Niall’s right? What if it hurts real bad?”

“You’ll be fine. You got one on your ribs and your spine. You can take it.”

Emma was still nervous as she followed (Y/n) to the door. She grabbed the handle and pulled the door open, allowing Emma to slip into the building first. It was warm in the small lobby of the tattoo shop. She was unfamiliar with the specific shop, but not the reality of one. It looked like the others she had been to and the place she got her tattoos done at. The walls were dark grey and decorated with interesting pieces of artwork and posters. There were rock band posters, most of which she recognized, on the wall behind the dark wood desk that acted as a check in counter. Nobody was at the counter, though. There was a small sleek, black leather couch pressed against the side wall, above it hung a large canvas with what appeared to be an original artwork painted on to it. She saw the signature in the lower left corner and smiled as she read over the name she had heard Niall use a few weeks ago during dinner. So this Zayn character was more than just a tattoo artist? She was intrigued by the brush work on the canvas, the beauty of the image was breathtaking. The muted colors stood out oddly bold against the stark white and midnight black areas. It was nothing like she had ever seen before. Although she didn’t partake in any form of art herself, she was an admirer. She enjoyed frequenting art galleries and museums and contributing to artists as much as she could. She once got a commissioned painting of a bouquet of flowers from an older woman in the area who was a somewhat known artist. The piece lives on the wall near the hall closet.

“Zayn?” Emma called out suddenly as she grew impatient with standing in the middle of the lobby.

(Y/n) sighed to herself as Emma disappeared through a door. It lead to the main tattoo room, with three different stations placed in it. The back room was Zayn’s private room that his clients were able to be secluded in. Emma knocked on that closed door and waited patiently. A few moments later, Zayn opened the door with a smile, happy to see her.

“Hi, Em.” He said, his accent thick as it rang through the small building.

(Y/n) heard them chatting, so she decided to peek through the door, a nervous smile on her face. Zayn’s eyes caught hers as he towered over Emma. He offered a friendly wave and gestured for her to join them. She nervously stepped over the threshold and swallowed gently.

“Zayn, do you remember (Y/n)? You guys met a while back.” Emma said with a gesture of her hand as (Y/n) approached them.

Immediately, she recognized his features - from his dark eyes to his nearly fully inked arms. His tattooed sleeves wrapped over his shoulders, around his neck, crept over each wrist and wiggled around his fingers. He was covered, to say the least. She could only presume the rest of him looked like that. Colorful tattoos mixed with jet black ones littered his skin. And she noticed, of course, that his hair was blond now like Niall had mentioned.

“I think so, yeah. You’re the chick Niall said could outdrink me, right?” Zayn asked with a laugh.

“I don’t drink that much.. but yeah, that’s me.”

Emma gave her a nudge of her elbow. “She can out drink anyone when she actually lets loose.”

Her eyes rolled as a smile toyed on her lips, still slick from the lip balm. “Yeah yeah.”

“Let me get my chair cleaned off and you ladies can come back here.” Zayn said just as he grabbed the knob to his private room.

They heard something hit the floor and then a shuffle of shoes moving against the tile. Emma furrowed her brows and gave Zayn a curious look.

“Someone in there?”

“Yeah, I just finished a piece.”

He opened the door and went inside, shutting it behind him again. (Y/n) turned towards Emma and gave her a smile, unsure of what to do next. Emma grabbed her hand and nodded towards the open lobby door.

“We can wait in here.”

They returned to the lobby, where (Y/n) was easily distracted by the art on the walls again. There was a print of a skull near the door. It had flowers pouring over the crown of it, which then melted to puddles as they hit the imaginary ground. She thought it was interesting and quite cool. From what she could tell about Zayn’s vibe, it fit it well. The music playing from the speakers in the ceiling was loud enough to be heard but not too invasive. She could tell it was a curated playlist going, because the song that just begun seemed to be sung by the same person as the one before.

“Zayn just texted me.. he said we can come back.”

“I thought someone was-“ (Y/n) stopped speaking the second a body appeared in the doorway. “Oh.”

“Hey, Harry.” Emma said with a friendly tone as she stood up, motioning for (Y/n) to follow her.

“Hey, Emma.” The stranger replied with a quick lift of one corner of his mouth.

(Y/n) was slightly confused because it obviously appeared that the two knew each other. She had never heard Emma refer to anyone by the name of Harry, at least not that she could recall. She licked her lips and let her eyes fall down his tall, broad frame.

“What did you get?” Emma asked with her usual curious voice.

(Y/n) was listening, but she wasn’t paying that much attention. She couldn’t help but be taken aback by the appearance of the person in front of them. He was tall, much taller than Niall but probably close to Zayn’s height. He looked like a sky scraper standing in front of Emma and herself, both of which were shorter than average. His long, dark hair shaped into curls that were messily laying on his shoulders. He suddenly swept his hand through his roots the second she realized he had such long hair. The motion caused the lights above them to ricochet off the rings covering his fingers.

“This.” He said as he extended his right arm to them, well mainly to Emma.

There was a freshly inked snake curling around his forearm, each scale placed perfectly on his tanned skin. There were remenents of blood speckled across his skin, and a deep redness that hazed over the entire tattoo.

“Wow! That’s so good.” Emma beamed at the delicate work.

“Yeah, took two sessions. Zayn got a bit tired last time.” He smirked gently at the girl he knew, completely ignoring the one he didn’t.

“Well, it was cool seeing you! Are you headed home?”

He shook his head. “Gonna sit here for a while. I’ve got to be at the store in an hour to help Niall.”

She checked the time. “Yeah, he said he was the only one closing tonight.”

“Emma?” Zayn called from the back room, his head looking around the doorframe searching for her.

“Coming!” She hollered back, taking one last look at Harry’s freshly inked arm. “It was good seeing you. If you leave before I get out of here, I’ll see you later.”

(Y/n) didn’t even realize she was tracing her eyes over his body. His arms were like tree trunks, muscles taut under his skin and veins popping out, rolling around as he moved. His legs were tightly wrapped in a pair of dark jeans, she could tell through the fabric that they were toned as well. It wasn’t until he suddenly walked past her, not even sparing her a glance, that she realized she had been standing frozen.

Emma started towards the back room, (Y/n) in two as she felt an embarrassed blush cover her cheeks. She didn’t know this Harry guy, but she hoped she wasn’t staring too hard at him. It definitely wasnt polite to just stare at a stranger, especially when she was blanking out. What if she was making a face at him? Something nasty, or something rude looking? She was unsure, but chose to ignore it. He didn’t seem bothered by anything as he took a spot on the couch.

Zayn’s office was just as she expected it to be. It was a deep shade of green, the walls coated in framed prints and a few smaller canvases of what she figured was his work. There was a small accent chair placed in the corner for guests. She sat down and started darting her eyes around the room. The type of work that Zayn had pinned to a board on the back wall caught her eye. He seemed to be good at everything, but most of it was bold color work or extremely detailed realism, sort of like the snake she saw on Harry’s arm moments ago. She wondered if Zayn had given himself any of his own tattoos or if he went to someone else. Surely, not every place on his body was accessible by his own hands, but maybe some of them were done by him. She felt like an amateur compared to him. She had a few tattoos placed on her body, but nothing quite as big or detailed as what she saw on the board or on Zayn’s skin.

“(Y/n) is your new house mate, right?” Zayn asked Emma as she got comfortable on the chair.

“Yeah. I moved in before Christmas.”

“But.. you’ve known each other for a while, right? I can’t exactly remember.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, since we were in college together.”

“Zayn.. do you mind if I look through this?” (Y/n) asked politely as she picked up the small binder off the console table next to the chair. A few figurines of characters she recognized, an hour glass with black sand, and a plant lived on the table as well.

“Of course not, that’s why it’s there.” He gave her a chuckle, but kept his response nice.

She opened the book and started to slowly flick through the pages. She saw his signature on the bottom of the designs. They were all so perfect. Some were executed with such detail and precision that she could've sworn they were fake, others were more loose drawn in a free handed style or just more whimsical in nature. She saw a sketch of a few bees on one of the pages. They were in black and grey, mostly realistic with subtle, soft shading and delicate lines. The drawing was pretty and neat. She glanced to the corner, searching for his signature, but she didn’t find it. Instead, in the corner opposite of where Zayn favored to sign his name was a small H. She hummed to herself, curious to know why Zayn had someone else’s drawing in his book. She quickly shook the thought out and reminded herself that there three other stations in the front. They were not abandoned by any means, she could tell people worked at them based on the different things displayed and the personal trinkets and objects adnoring the areas. Maybe this was one of his college’s work or maybe it was random.

For the most part, the book was filled with things Zayn did. Some of them were his own creations while others were common tattoo designs just drawn by his own hand instead of being pulled from the internet. She liked the way he had a bunch of his own things offered in styles that were more popular. He appeared to be a well versed artist with the talent to create just about anything.

As Zayn prepped Emma’s skin for her tattoo, he was talking to her about Niall’s store. He asked how it was going and if she had heard any horror stories yet of Niall messing up payroll or forgetting to stock an item. She only laughed and said she was surprised he was staying so calm and organized. Everything about the store was going more than according to plan, as at least as much as (Y/n) could tell from what she’s heard. She was still so happy for Niall. His hobby had turned into a passion and a business and he was able to share it with others, it was like a dream come true she bet.

“Alright, are y’ready?” Zayn said with a deep breath of his own as Emma grew more and more nervous in the chair.

“I think so.”

“You’ll do fine, Em.” (Y/n) encouraged from the corner, her eyes now focused on her friend.

“Just take some deep breaths. Tell me if it’s too much.” Zayn told her as he pulled the stencil paper off her foot. The flower wasn’t that big, but there were lots of tiny details that Zayn knew would probably hurt her more than anything else she’s gotten. “Just a tattoo.”

“If I cry, you can’t tell Niall. I told him I could handle this.” Emma mumbled out with a frown as she stared at her foot.

Zayn smiled and leaned back, the gun still buzzing in his hand. “Before I start, is it in the spot you want?”

“What do you think? Is it good?” She asked him, twisting her foot to a different pose.

“It’s not my foot, love.”

She groaned and looked over towards (Y/n). “Can you check?”

(Y/n) laughed a little but nodded as she stood up. Just as she was about to step towards them, Emma called for someone else to take a peek at the design.

“Harry? Are you still in there?” Her voice echoed through the room, she hoped that it spilled into the lobby so he could hear her. After a few seconds, she grunted and pulled her phone out to shoot him a text. “I’m so nervous.”

“It looks fine to me.. but it’s your decision.” Zayn told her with a gentle sigh.

(Y/n) looked down at the placement of the tattoo, her arms behind her back with her hands locked. “Yeah, it’s cute.”

She gave Emma a hopeful smile before turning around. The door opened just as she moved her body, the stranger that wasn’t a stranger to anyone but her, walked in the room, chuckling as he saw Emma fanning her face, the heat swelling her skin with sweat and her eyes with tears - she was nervous.

“You always do this.” Zayn couldn’t resist laughing as Harry walked to them.

(Y/n) was back in her seat now, her eyes fixed on her phone as she waited for Emma to decide her fate. She could hear snickers coming from Zayn and Harry as they talked about the tattoo and Emma’s apparent hesitation that always came out when she was in Zayn’s chair.

“It’s fine, Emma.” Harry said, giving her a smile before looking to Zayn. “Make sure it hurts.”

“Harry, shut up!” Emma groaned and tried to kick at him. He laughed and took a step back. “You guys are bullies.”

“You’ll be alright, Em. It’s not like it's your first.” Zayn reminded her.

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whatever. Go ahead, then. Thanks, Harry.”

“Welcome.” He said lightly before disappearing out of the door again.

(Y/n) wondered why he didn’t stay in the room with them. Was he not interesting in hearing the painful grunts Emma would sure be letting out soon or watching Zayn draw his design perfected for Emma into her skin? Maybe he was tired of being near the tattoo gun since he spent however long getting his own. She pushed the thought aside entirely the moment she heard Emma groan, curses falling form her lips but not directly towards anyone.

Zayn leaned over her foot, his fingers pulling her skin tight as he worked the needle into it. It didn’t look like it was much fun, and (Y/n) became grateful that she had no intention of ever inking anything onto her foot.

—•—

There was a freshness in the air as she looked around Niall’s music store. It smelt like freshly picked lemons, probably because he had just sprayed down the counter before she came in following behind Emma. Niall was in one of his usual band tees and a pair of jeans as he sat on a stool with a guitar resting on his thigh. He was talking with a customer, comparing the similarities of two different guitar brands. Emma found herself busy with the items on the checkout counter - dropping loose pens back into their cup and adjusting the pile of papers Niall had pushed to the side.

(Y/n) stayed curious as she looked around the store. It was very easy to get caught up in the different items, especially since she had little to no idea what some of the accessories were for. Niall provided more than just items for guitars. She didn’t try to decipher every thing on the shelves, just simply moved her eyes across the packages, curiosity settling in her instead of blurting out questions to Niall. The girls came by to bring him some lunch before they did some grocery shopping for the week. Niall was appreciative, but he was unable to entertainment right away.

Emma smiled as the customer approached the counter, the one Niall had been chatting with. She stepped aside and let Niall take over the register. He had another employee here, but he was in the back room looking for a specific thing they needed to restock on one of the shelves. (Y/n) waited near by as Niall scanned the guitar music book the customer wanted to get and told him that he’d see him when he returned for the guitar - the customer hadn’t made his decision just yet.

When it was just the three of them at the counter, a few customers were lingering around the store just browsing, Niall gave them both a warm smile before wrapping his arms around Emma for a quick hug.

“Thanks for lunch. I’ll eat it when Josh gets off his break.” He said with a sigh, folding his arms and leaning them on the counter.

“The store is so nice, Niall.” (Y/n) complimented as she glanced around.

“Thanks.”

Emma walked from behind the counter to where (Y/n) was standing. She was about to ask her something about their plans for the day when her eyes fell on the few pieces of paper taped to the front edge of the counter. One was the refund policy, one was about the instrument lessons, and the other was new since the last time she was here.

“Oh, a flyer? That’s unusual.” Emma suddenly said as she pressed her finger against the pink dyed paper. “For the show?”

“The show?’’ (Y/n) asked with a drop of her brows as she read over the words printed in bold black letters.

“Yeah, Niall’s band. They play at a bar across town every couple of weeks.” Emma told her.

(Y/n) remembered as soon as she heard it. Emma had told her before, long ago when she first started dating Niall, that he was in a cover band. It wasn’t anything serious, not trying to search for record deals or gain stardom, it was just him and his friends having a good time. They got decent money for it, including tips from audiences, and it allowed them to play the instruments each member enjoyed. She wasn’t sure who was in the band as Emma never got to that detail before.

“Oh, right.” She nodded as the memory returned to her brain. “That’s cool.”

“Can’t believe Emma’s never brought you to a show.” Niall said with a somewhat surprised expression.

“I invited her a few times but she’s usually busy with work stuff.” Emma defended herself, even though there was no issue with it.

(Y/n) smiled at her and shrugged. “I remember you asking a couple times.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to attend if you’d like.” Niall offered as he pushed himself off the counter the moment the bell jingled above the entrance door.

He went to greet the customer, someone he actually was used to seeing come in the store, leaving the girls alone again.

“Yeah, it would be fun if you came! You could finally meet Alyssa. She’s usually just home with her and Zayn’s kid.. she doesn’t go out much anymore, but she loves the shows.” Emma exclaimed with a sparkle in her eye.

“I dunno.. when is it?” She asked, glancing at the flyer.

“Next Saturday night. It would be cool, (Y/n)! We haven’t went out since Halloween.”

The stress building up at work during the holidays definitely set her back from enjoying a lot of things, including several invitations from Emma to join her and Niall at a bar or go out for dinner with just the two of them. It truly felt like forever since she got to have fun with her friend. She thought about it for a moment, but only lifted her shoulder at the idea. The mention of meeting Zayn’s fiancé was intriguing since she had heard so much about her from Emma, but she doubted that would be enough to pull her out for the night.

“Maybe.. depends on how the week goes.”

Emma gave her a partial smile. “Okay. I really hope you can go with me.”

“Yeah, you should definitely come, (Y/n).” Niall said as he appeared next to them, the customer gone to look for the item they asked him about.

Once again, she let out a small sigh and faked a smile for them. “I said I’ll see how the week goes, but no promises.”

He gave her a fake, dramatic frown. “C’mon! Live a little!”

“I live a lot.. at work.”

Emma grabbed her elbow and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll convince you before the week ends.”

“M’sure you will, Em.”

After spending a few more minutes talking to Niall, and then waiting in the car as he and Emma disappeared into his office to say a private goodbye, (Y/n) was ready to get the grocery shopping over with. The store they frequented was near by, so the drive was short and easy. It wasn’t close to their shared house, but the prices were better than anywhere else. Emma offered to take her car, so that left (Y/n) in the passenger seat with her eyes glued to whatever passed by the window.

“Are you okay, (Y/n)?” Emma asked as they strolled through the fruit section in search for the items on their list.

She gulped gently, distracting herself by collecting a few apples for the cart. “M’fine, just tired.”

Emma watched as she walked towards the basket of lemons and grabbed two, she’d need them for a receipe she was going to try later in the week. (Y/n) was normally not this quiet. She enjoyed the task of grabbing their groceries and checking things off their combined list while Emma pushed the cart and double checked everything. Something about doing such a mundane thing made her feel content and comfortable, even if they decided randomly to try a new store they’d never been in. But today was different, Emma was growing concerned with her unusually quiet friend.

“If you’re irritated with me and Niall pushing you about the show.. I’m sorry. You don’t have to go.” Emma said with a soft frown as (Y/n) returned to the cart with a handful of bananas.

She sat them down and lifted her hesitant gaze to meet her closest friend’s. “I’m fine, Emma. Just tired.”

She shook her head gently. “No, you’re too quiet. What’s wrong?”

“You and Niall didn’t bother me, I swear. The bar thing is.. whatever. I’ll think about it, I promise. It’s just.. one of those days.”

Emma wasn’t believing it all the way. Sure, maybe (Y/n) was being truthful about the role her and Niall played in her newfound mood, or didn’t play - but something else was up. She licked her lips and decided to stay quiet as (Y/n) busied herself with grabbing the rest of the fruits before moving onto the fresh vegetables.

Although she didn’t want to press it any further, Emma couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened at the music shop or on the way to the grocery store. Her worry was growing quickly and it wasn’t very long before she was asking another question.

“(Y/n), please tell me. Are you alright?”

She received a sigh as a response, a couple of tomatoes and a bag of baby carrots joined the cart. “Emma, please.. I’m fine.”

“Something is wrong with you. I don’t want to see you so down.”

(Y/n) walked towards the next section of the store, knowing that Emma would follow her with the cart no matter if they were talking or not. She held her breath as she thought about what was bothering her. She was too caught up with her racing mind to realize she was actually expressing her emotions on the outside. Emma noticed everything, so clearly she wasn't doing well at hiding it. There was no real issue, really, nothing that anyone caused by saying or doing anything. A lump slid down her throat, Emma was her friend - there was no need to keep anything from her.

Just as they turned down the aisle where the bread was, she stopped in her tracks and turned towards the cart, her hand reaching out to stop it. Emma froze, a lift of her brows offering confidence like a good friend should.

“The guy that walked through the door right before we left.. at Niall’s store..” She started with a strong voice, but it slowly faded to almost a whisper.

Emma nodded, encouraging her to continue. She looked down to the floor as the moment replayed in her memory. It wasn’t an unusual thing for her to experience, in fact it was more common than not. One little thing, one random glance from a passerby, one glimpse of someone with a similar shade of hair as her own, one note from a list of songs she knew were special..

“He reminded me of my brother. I.. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Her response made Emma’s stomach turn to knots. She knew that the conversation was over then, and there wasn’t anything else she could try that would break (Y/n). The forbidden topic had been brought up, and quickly dropped back to the vault she kept it locked away in. Emma didn’t mention it again..

[a/n: this is a series! It’s a lot longer per part than my other stuff so I hope you enjoy! This is just the intro so it will be more interesting and exciting as it goes on! reblog, like, do all that lovely stuff!!]

-> this is a temporary message I will delete later on::: if it bothers you that I did not name this character and you think I should based on how I’ve written her so far, feel free to vote on a name change.. if you don’t care about it, also feel free to select that and submit your vote! Here

-> well this is a second message I’ll delete, I’ve had a lot of anxiety over this so pls go read this post too!

taglist: (notified for all // if you want to join a taglist for this series, lmk in a comment or message and I’ll start one)

@walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 @lizsogolden

[sweet-honey-tears]

Just Turn it Down

dad!Aizawa x biological!GN!Reader FAMILY FLUFF!!!!!

…. I’m so sorry for how long this took… I hope you like it🖤🤍🥺 and thank you for your amazing request!!! -🍯

WARNING: None, cute stuff. Possible gender mix ups, when I write a draft, I write in fem tense (she,her,ect) and then go back and fix it after- but I’m sick so may have missed a few. I’m incredibly sorry.

To say it was a surprise to the world would be an understatement. The scary, hard-headed, slouched teacher of AU had a kid—an actual, biological child. It was no surprise that Aizawa would keep it under wraps. Your safety and his patience could easily be strained.

“Who is the mother?”

“Was it a Fling?”

“Did the Pro-Hero Eraser Head hook up with…”

The world got its answers; with it, you got your silence. “My mother is dead. Died in childbirth, I’d like to be left alone now.” It was a blatant lie, and when Hizashi asked you why, trying his best to understand, his tall frame slumped slightly as he rubbed the back of his head, you answered, “Because she is.” The subject was never brought up again.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

While not your biological siblings, Eri and Shinso have been part of your family since they stepped through the door. Shinso, who was older than you, had offered advice more than once on subjects such as schools, relationships, and your future career. The world is aware of your future decisions, another blunt shut-down.

“Do you wanna be just like your father? A hero”

You glanced at your dad off to the side, his arms crossed yet still tense. Ready to pull you back the minute they ask a question that crosses the line. Aizawa smiled slightly, ever so suddenly that only you caught it. Then, there was an ever so slight nod.

“No.”

Shinso supports you fully; he always feels the public backlash of his decisions due to his quirks. Villain, villain, villain. He’d prove them wrong. But that didn't stop his anger when his mind bounced to the idea of you being put through assaults. You can manipulate living organisms. Specifically, increasing the size of plants and controlling movement. As always, with their lack of space, the press managed to grab photos of you using the quirk. Your sweet smile as you lean over some old lady's rose bush, the spiked vines climbing up to reach your fingers as soft pink flowers open. According to you, it had been stepped on and crushed under some careless foot, and you just wanted to fix it. Yet that story would be too sweet. The public zoomed in on the aspect that you could grow thorns! What if you decided to covered the town in poison ivy?! You huffed at the so called fears written in the paper.

“I wouldn't play their game, so now I need to be their villain.”

Your quirk explicitly comes from your mother's side to your disgust. Thou Aizawa couldn't care less about the quirk; he wouldn't care if you were quirkless, something he’s said more than once. However, he felt the slightest bit of glee as he watched you quiet the loud blonde in his class. It wasn’t your fault; he wanted to spar, and you did. Thou, you slightly regretted your decision as you watched the problem child, as your dad called him, scribble furiously down his journal.

You don't go to UA, a choice that sometimes stresses Aizawa. Yet, considering the recent events with this group of students, it now seemed like a safer choice, ironically. But when you do go to UA, for whatever reason, it feels like another home. Surrounded by the many staff and heroes that raised you, taking you on days, Aizawa had patrol. AllMight, in his uncle-like glory, yelled:

“Ah Young Y/n, how tall you’ve grown!”

This caused all students to stop and look at the one kid who was not in uniform. You’re as much their daughter as you are, Aizawa. Your hair getting ruffled, cheeks pinched, comments how beautiful you’ve become. Midnight, despite what the media says, and Rumi

have been wonderful mother figures throughout your life. Aizawa, as great a father as he is, knows when to throw his hands up for your comfort and sometimes his. You tell the two women secrets, crushes, and heartbreakers, and they keep it locked up, never spilling the information on even Aizawa.

Your little sister, Eri, clings to you like a koala and you her, pulling you to a point where your spine is more of a bridge than a body part, just so she can whisper you a secret or happily show you the family photo she drew in class, with you, Shinso, and Aizawa all drawn with wide smiles, stick hands holding stick hands.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You blame Shinso for your music taste because if you admitted that Bakugou was the one to introduce, you think your father would get his motto tattooed onto you. “Stay away from loud blondes.” But you couldn't help it. Scene Queen seemed to attach to every cell of your body. The loud, angry music about worth and the media seeing comforting as you watched the world around you. There is so much pain, so many big problems, and yet some so small and meaningless, silly almost. These are easy ones to fix if people just agree. Maybe the same could be said for the argument of where Villains came from; the same ones you watch hurt your family, but the thought feels so sickening. So switch to another artist, the screaming, feeding, and subduing the boiling anger that lingers in your chest due to the media. You were getting ripped apart by the bloodhounds for not giving them the bloody steak they required, so instead, they chose you. You're a small, converted life forced to be nailed and screwed since you wouldn’t play their games.

Your finger mindlessly tapped to the next artist, pondering slightly if your hearing will be gone when you reach your 20s due to Metalica. Your fingers lightly drum on the page, your body unconsciously moving to the beat of the song that blasted too loud in your headphones. To be stuck in your own world and notice your dad walking past you, peering over the couch to see what you were doing. Aizawa paused; the screeching music from your headphones sounded all too familiar. With little hesitation, he reached down and grabbed one of the earpieces, listening for the split moment he had before the music paused. It was clear he startled you from the way you jumped and whipped around.

“Dad!”

“(Enter favorite metal band)?”

You paused, searching his face for something you weren't really sure of. ”Uh Yeah… Shinso introduced me to them.”

Aizawa smiled a bit, handing you back the headphones. “The band came out when I was in UQ,” He huffed, watching your surprised face. “Mike was very much into them and even met the band.” He watched the excitement in your face take over. He’d need to call Hizashi and tell him the radio hero would be over the moon. “They’re from (Enter Country), I believe.” He leaned against the couch.

“Yeah they did!” Azawia paused, about to speak again, when his phone rang, the screeching sound leading from the kitchen; it was UA; you both knew it. He sighed, looking back at you, smiling slightly. “Just listen to them at a lower volume.” He ruffled your hair before leaving to get his phone.

He left and was gone the rest of the day, some issue on the campus. Damn problem children. And when you came home from school, he still wasn’t there. But sitting on the kitchen counter,rested a small keychain of the band of the bands logo.

[abbyandersnsgf]

ivy towers | abby anderson

— still surprised by the acceptance letter months prior, you begin to navigate life within the ivy league. between socializing, attending lectures, studying, and the otherwise bustling life of your college town, you find yourself caught off guard by the increasingly persistent thoughts that have clouded your mind ever since you met abby anderson

tags: strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, slow burn, college/university au, competitive flirting, banter, mutual secret pining, reader & abby are college age (18-20), reader afab, eventual smut, sexual themes implied. mentions of drugs, alcohol, and mental health matters

💌 there are no reader specific descriptions/mentions of a particular skin colour, hair colour, texture or length. any mention of skin/hair/nails etc, are vague, and non descriptive as i encourage the reader to imagine them as they see fit. this is a safe and inclusive space. if you feel something is not poc friendly, please reach out and correct me. 💌

Large, dark, aged wood doors squeak as you push your way into the lecture hall. The stadium seating was an overwhelming site, mixed with the adrenaline that was consuming your body and mind, causing physical anxiety like you'd never felt before. It was a site. The large chalkboard that stretched across the back wall, the stair-step tiered seats, and the all-consuming quiet emptiness that was held inside. The building had to be at least 200 years old you thought, as you made your way to the second to bottom row of seats, opting for the middle of the three large sections. The classroom filled with the warm smell of old pine wood, out-of-date textbooks, and classic literature that made you feel so at home and fluttery you almost felt nauseous.

A few months prior, you were sat back at home, decision letter in hand, feeling physically ill at the thought of being rejected from the school you had worked exhaustingly towards for the better part of five years. Trembling hands worked at the envelope seal as you laboriously tear the thing apart, not being able to wait another second. As you read the words "Congratulations!" you still remember audibly yelling, then collapsing, filled with pure joy, relief, excitement, and fear, you couldn't bear the task of remaining upright.

Thinking back to now, your eyes welled with tears at how proud you were of your hardworking attitude, and how far it'd brought you.

The groan of tired door hinges interrupting your thoughts, and composing yourself, you turn expecting to see a mature, middle-aged man but instead saunters a cocky, muscular blonde. She looks around your age. Her trousers and black t-shirt fitting so snugly around her muscular physique you can't help but gawk. Her long, blonde hair is messily braided down her back, with thin glasses adoring her nose. Freckles dance across the same area, stretching down and around her forehead and cheeks. Noticing the presence of someone typically not there, she glances up at you, a surprised look on her face.

You knew why, because it was the same reason you had the same expression, why was there someone else also here an entire 45 minutes early? Dread filling your body as you realize that this is probably the normal for Ivy League students, and an overachieving attitude was simply what was expected here.

"Why are you here so early?" the girl asks in a voice that's almost too feminine and soft to belong to such a intimidating presence.

Caught off guard you respond, "I could ask you the same thing, class doesn't start until 8."

The blonde takes a seat in the row in beside you, just across the isle. Both occupying the outer seats, you were maybe less than 2ft apart.

Noticing your bag, notebooks, colorful pens and highlighters, and textbook (Which she totally didn't forget to get), she clears her throat and responds, "I like getting here early. Its stressful like–rushing in and being late y'know?" nodding along, replying "Yeah, me too."

You feel her eyes burning into you, like she's trying to melt you, or set you on fire. Either way, its working. You feel flustered, and nervous. She's easily one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen, and she's sitting here, looking at you like you're some sort of Sunday crossword clue she's spent an hour trying to figure out.

"M'names Abby, this your second year?"

Smiling and introducing yourself you respond, "No, first."

Her eyebrows shoot up, "Wait, so how are you in a 200 level?" she asks, a hint of shock, possibly disbelief, in her tone. "I took the intro course in high school. Like a duel credit program thing–". Your voice cutoff by the sound of shuffling voices filing into the lecture hall, making small-talk-quiet conversation impossible. Turning in your seat, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming nervous presence around her. Was it jealousy? Attraction? Competitiveness? You tried to place where you'd felt this emotion before, but it was coming up blank. You felt a fire ignite inside of you every time you felt her looking at you.

Over the next few weeks, the tension had grown into a living, breathing, palpable competitiveness that was noticed among even the most clueless of students. It began the first week, when you noticed her only raising your hand if you would, glancing to see if you'd noticed. At first you thought maybe she was flirting, maybe she's just teasing you–but after two more classes, the whole thing grew old and irritating, causing you to audibly huff in frustration once, eliciting a smirk and stifled laugh from the blonde sitting across from you. Ever since that first day, she's always shown up before you. Always had an answer, always knew what to say. Always had a comment, a point, a argument to make off of your answers. “Yeah, to piggyback off that–" she would start, immediately following it with a critique or insight that infuriatingly made sense. Every discussion board was met with "Constructive Criticism" as she put it, making sure to patronize you as much as the possibly could. She knew exactly how to get under your skin, to get you all worked up, and she seemed to almost...enjoy the fight. Like there's no other place she'd rather be than arguing with you during a lecture.

Legs burning and anxiety coursing through you, you rushed past the green lawns, large oaks, and students fraternizing within as ice coffee rattled around the plastic cup with every step. It was 7:30–following a late night study session which resulted in falling asleep without setting an alarm, at your desk, overtop an ethics textbook.

You fumble with your hands full, trying to open the heavy classroom door, as you see a large hand appear on the handle, pulling it open, and another large, warm hand on your lower back. Chills electrify you, the hair on the back of your neck standing straight up as you feel a warm familiar voice whisper into you, "Running late, are we? Thought I would miss having to see you get all, hot and bothered" Your voice caught inside your throat, the blonde smirks and lowers her hand towards your hips, spinning you to face her, your noses almost touching, "Y'know, I think I'd miss seeing how worked up I get you". Her voice low, sultry, and soft, she sounds seductive and you can feel yourself becoming red, the thought of Abby Anderson actually getting you worked up being enough to cause a damp spot to form in-between your legs. You decided to play along though, you know, for the hell of it. “Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” you said just as sweetly, head cocked to the side, staring back into her eyes, now practically boring holes into your own. A pink tint arising on her cheeks as she shook her head and laughed. “Okay, you got me. First time for everything I guess, especially for you.” She slid between yourself and the door, your back pressed up against the back of the harsh oak, leaving you scoffing and rather flustered, again, the effect she had infuriatingly effective.

A/N: hiiiiiiii i wrote this months ago in my drafts and decided to post it bc why not!!! lmk if u want a part two🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[pretzel-box]

Streamer AU masterlist here

tags: Meeting old friends, some fluff, streamer au

words: 2,7k

authors note: See you for part 5 on thursday!

Sebastian’s bike roared to life, its powerful engine vibrating beneath you as the machine settled into a steady, low purr. The familiar hum, combined with the cool breeze against your skin, sent a rush of adrenaline through your veins. You wrapped your arms around Sebastian’s torso, pressing yourself against his back. The warmth of his body radiated through his leather jacket, filling you with both a sense of euphoria and nervousness. Being this close to him was rare—these motorcycle rides were some of the few moments when you could really feel that connection.

The city was bathed in golden light, the late afternoon sun casting long, soft shadows across the streets. As the two of you set off toward the café, you couldn’t help but soak in the moment. The engine’s steady vibrations beneath you and the wind rushing past contrasted with the comforting solidity of Sebastian’s body in front of you. It was a strange combination of sensations, but it felt like home.

He glanced back at you for a moment, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his voice cutting through the noise of the ride. “You doing okay back there?”

“Yeah, fine,” you replied, your voice slightly muffled through the helmet, but the smile on your face was impossible to hide. You rested your chin on his shoulder, letting your thoughts drift. These rides were your sanctuary—silent, peaceful, and filled with unspoken intimacy.

Sebastian had offered to drive you to a local café, where you were planning to meet up with Allison, an old friend from high school. Life had gotten in the way for both of you after graduation, but out of the blue, she’d reached out a few days ago, suggesting that you meet and catch up. While a little surprised, you were looking forward to it. The ride there, though, was becoming the highlight of your day.

After weaving through the city streets, the café finally came into view. It was a cozy little place, tucked into a quiet corner with ivy climbing the brick walls. The gentle hum of the city seemed to fade as you neared the café. Sebastian parked the bike, and you hopped off, feeling your legs slightly wobbly from the ride. You unclasped your helmet, watching as Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, shaking it loose before securing the bike.

“I’ll grab some food before going,” he said, his usual relaxed tone adding to the comfortable rhythm of the day. You nodded, already spotting Allison sitting near the window. She looked up as you approached, her face lighting up with a familiar smile.

“Allison, long time no see!” you said, pulling her into a warm hug before sitting across from her. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries filled the air, making the atmosphere even more inviting.

“I know, right? It’s been ages,” Allison replied, her eyes flicking briefly toward Sebastian, who was now standing at the register, ordering a coffee. She studied him for a moment longer than felt casual, something unreadable flickering in her gaze. “So… that’s Sebastian, huh?”

You smiled softly. “Yeah, that’s him.”

Allison gave a nod, a slight smile tugging at her lips. There was something in her expression you couldn’t quite place, but you brushed it off, eager to dive into conversation. The two of you began catching up, chatting about life, work, and all the things that had happened in the years since you’d drifted apart. It felt good to reconnect, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that Allison wasn’t entirely present. Her eyes kept flicking toward Sebastian, who had found some food and was scrolling through his phone while waiting for his turn to pay.

As you were in the middle of discussing your plans for the weekend, nature called, and you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. You left your phone on the table, not giving it a second thought. It was a casual moment, one that felt harmless, but as you walked away, Allison’s eyes zeroed in on the device.

The moment you disappeared around the corner, Allison’s curiosity got the better of her. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she reached for your phone, unlocking it with the code she had remembered from your high school days. Old habits die hard, and secrets had always flowed freely between the two of you back then.

As she scrolled through your messages, her heart raced when she stumbled upon the chat between you and Solace—Sebastian’s streaming alias. The messages were playful and full of banter, the kind that only close friends—no, close partners—would share. Her eyes widened as realization dawned on her. Jelly was you. You were the streamer she had always admired, and Solace—the man she had been fangirling over for years—was none other than Sebastian.

Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of the discovery hit her. She hurriedly snapped pictures of the chat with her own phone, her heart pounding in her chest. The thrill of it, the idea of finally having a way to get closer to Solace, to Sebastian, sent a surge of excitement through her. She wasn’t just going to sit on this information. No, she had a plan—a way to infiltrate the world you had built and get closer to the man she had admired from afar for so long.

With a sly grin, Allison quickly memorized the login credentials for your Jelly account. It was wrong—betraying an old friend like this—but in her mind, it was worth it. The chance to become part of Solace’s world was too tempting to pass up.

By the time you returned, Allison was back in her seat, the picture of innocence. She smiled warmly as you sat down, her earlier anxiety masked completely.

“Everything okay?” you asked, noticing the calm, almost relaxed demeanor she had now.

“Yeah, just catching up on some messages,” she replied smoothly, slipping her phone back into her bag. You didn’t notice the slight smirk that crossed her face when you weren’t looking. If only you had seen it, maybe you would have suspected something was amiss. But for now, you remained blissfully unaware, continuing your conversation, unaware of the storm Allison was about to unleash.

Allison's plan was straightforward, yet it required a careful balance of deception and patience. She had thought everything through, knowing well that the key to success was staying undetected. She couldn’t risk texting Sebastian on Discord, not when you had access to the same account. But what you didn’t have, and what she needed, was his phone number.

She had noticed, during her little snooping session, that while you had conversations with Sebastian as Jelly, you didn’t have his number saved. That was her opening—her way in. From the messages, it was also clear that you hadn’t yet revealed your true identity to him. Sebastian remained blissfully unaware of who Jelly really was, which meant he would be none the wiser if Allison took your place. She would become Jelly.

Over the next few days, everything began to fall into place. She logged into your Discord account, carefully crafting her approach. She needed to play this cool, not arouse any suspicion. So she sent a simple message, mimicking the casual tone you always used with Sebastian:

“Up to call?”

The reply came quickly, his name flashing across the screen.

“Sure, whenever ur rdy.”

Allison’s heart raced. She could hardly believe how easy this was turning out to be. Step One in her plan was to get his phone number. There was no way she could use her voice—it would instantly give her away. So, she played it safe, claiming her microphone wasn’t working.

“Mic’s acting up, but we can still chat. I’ll text you while you talk, okay?”

Sebastian’s response was almost immediate again. “No prob, just text me what you need.”

Perfect. As Sebastian talked, Allison typed out replies, keeping her tone light, playful, and just ambiguous enough to avoid any hiccups. When the time was right, she asked for his phone number, casually slipping it into the conversation. And to her astonishment, he gave it to her without a second thought.

She saved the number into her phone with a triumphant grin. Now, she could communicate with him over SMS, a method that wouldn’t leave traces on your shared Discord account. You would never know.

After the call, she meticulously deleted her messages from the chat log, erasing any evidence of the conversation. As far as you were concerned, nothing had happened. Step One of her plan was complete.

Next came Step Two: becoming Jelly.

This was trickier. Streaming with him was out of the question—her voice would give her away in an instant. But meeting him in real life? That was feasible. The conversations between you and Sebastian had already established a close connection. With the right approach, she could use that trust to arrange a meeting. And once they were face-to-face, she could play off any discrepancies. If he questioned her voice, she’d simply claim it sounded different online—people always sound different on streams compared to real life, right? A small white lie could smooth over any potential issues.

There were, of course, many risks. Loopholes in her plan that could unravel everything. But those were problems for later. For now, she was closer to her favorite male streamer than she had ever been, and the excitement of it all was enough to blind her to the potential consequences.

With his number now saved on her phone, the rest of the plan would unfold piece by piece. She would step into your life as Jelly, leaving you none the wiser, and in time, she would have everything she ever wanted: a way into Solace's world.

Three more days passed, each one feeling like a delicate balancing act. Allison was playing a dangerous game, and with each day that passed, she risked you finding out about the meeting she had secretly arranged with Sebastian. But fortune seemed to be on her side. You were too busy with work and meetings to even think about streaming, and Sebastian—thankfully—hadn’t mentioned anything about the upcoming meeting in your Discord chat.

Allison kept a close eye on your conversations, her heart pounding every time a new message popped up. But Sebastian was smooth, careful, never slipping up. He didn’t breathe a word about the meeting. For all you knew, everything was normal.

Finally, the day arrived.

Sebastian sat at a café, one you and he frequented, though today felt different. He was nervous. You’d never actually met in person as Jelly, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Yet, there he was, scrolling through his phone, waiting for Jelly—or at least, who he believed to be Jelly.

He glanced up as the café door opened, and there she was—Allison, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She had taken extra care to look her best, wearing a simple but flattering outfit, her hair styled just right. Those bright blue eyes seemed to mesmerize Sebastian the moment he saw her.

“Solace?” Allison said softly, stepping up to the table. Her voice carried a slight tremble, an artificial nervousness she’d rehearsed a hundred times.

Sebastian blinked, almost taken aback by how different she seemed in person. But then again, people always seemed different outside of the digital world. He quickly put his phone aside and stood up, his usual cool demeanor melting away into something softer—more vulnerable.

“Jelly?” he asked, his voice hesitant, searching her eyes for confirmation.

Allison nodded, her heart racing with excitement. She could barely contain the thrill of it all. She was Jelly now.

She was the one meeting Solace.

“We finally meet, Solace!” she exclaimed with a bright smile, sliding into the seat across from him. “I bet you have so many questions.”

Sebastian smiled awkwardly, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his jacket as he sat back down. “Yeah, uh, I didn’t expect you to look like this,” he said, clearly unsure of himself. “Not that it’s a bad thing. You just… sound different in person.”

Allison waved off the comment, laughing lightly. “I get that all the time. Microphones distort voices, you know? Plus, I use filters on streams, so that probably explains the difference.”

Sebastian nodded, seeming to buy the excuse, though there was still a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. But as they began talking, Allison skillfully shifted the conversation away from her voice, steering it toward their shared experiences online, inside jokes, and mutual admiration. She was careful, always staying just vague enough to keep up the illusion while feeding him just enough details to make the connection feel real.

As the minutes ticked by, Sebastian’s nervousness eased, and the lovestruck expression that Allison had always seen in his streams began to return. He smiled more easily, laughed at her jokes, and even leaned in closer, as though they were long-lost friends finally reunited.

Allison couldn’t believe how easy this had been. She had successfully stolen your identity—your streaming persona—and now, she was sitting here, living out a fantasy she had dreamed of for years. Sebastian, the elusive and mysterious Solace, was completely smitten, and he had no idea that the real Jelly wasn’t sitting in front of him.

As they continued their conversation, Allison couldn’t help but think about the next step. She had pulled off the meeting, but what would happen when you found out? How long could she keep up the charade? Those were problems for later. For now, she was basking in the glow of Sebastian’s undivided attention, his love-struck gaze focused entirely on her.

For a brief moment, she almost felt guilty. Almost.

But then, as Sebastian laughed at something she said, the guilt washed away, replaced by the thrill of being so close to him. She had worked too hard to let this slip away now.

This was her moment.

The meeting stretched into the late evening, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting a warm golden glow across the quiet streets. Both Sebastian and Allison had enjoyed their time together—more than she could have hoped for. Every laugh, every shared story had deepened the connection she had stolen, making her feel like she had truly become Jelly in Sebastian’s eyes.

As they walked to her apartment, the quiet streets only added to the sense of intimacy that had built throughout the day. Sebastian, for all his usual aloofness, had softened during their time together, his affection becoming more and more obvious with each passing minute.

When they finally arrived at her door, they stood facing each other, a comfortable silence settling between them. There was affection in Sebastian’s eyes, the kind that glittered with possibility. He had always been mysterious, hard to read, but now, standing so close to him, Allison felt as though she had finally cracked the code. She had done it. Her plan had worked perfectly.

“Thanks for bringing me home,” Allison said, her voice soft as she looked up at him, her heart beating a little faster. “I had lots of—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Sebastian’s lips pressed against hers, soft and warm. The kiss was gentle, slow, filled with an affection she hadn’t anticipated. His hand slid up to her cheek, cradling her face as though she was something delicate, something precious. For a split second, Allison’s mind went blank, overwhelmed by the sensation of Sebastian kissing her.

This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To have *him*—the real Solace—in her arms, to feel his affection, to steal that connection she had coveted for so long?

But as the kiss deepened, a sliver of doubt crept into her mind. Was it enough to be *Jelly* in his eyes, knowing that she wasn’t the person he thought she was? Could she keep pretending, living in this stolen fantasy?

Sebastian pulled back slightly, his breath warm against her skin, his gaze soft and full of emotion. He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly across her cheek. “I’m glad we finally got to meet, Jelly,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

Allison forced a smile, her heart pounding. This was everything she had wanted, everything she had planned for. Yet, in that moment, as Sebastian stood there, looking at her with such sincerity, the weight of her deception pressed heavily on her chest.

“Me too,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. “Me too.”

[cupidssorbet]

"What a cowboy.”

Cowboy/Vaquero Miguel x Ranch-Hand? Reader.(Beautiful art above is by Katromz on tiktok and insta!)

Summary: Miguel ends up trying to befriend his longtime friend and employers niece however maybe befriend isn't quite the word.

Includes: AFAB reader but no specified pronouns/race/looks nothing, flirting/teasing, Nicerish AU Miguel, caught masturbating, Oral M & F, recieving praise, mentions of the word 'cunt/pussy', P in V, as well as not much use of name more nicknames.

P.S Vaquero and Cowboy are the same words for those who don't know, a friend requested this so I delivered! Please pardon any terribly translated Spanish I am still learning and had only few help from a friend of mine! This was a request so thank you to my friend!

Word count: 7766.(it's a long one babes.)

By cupid.

Begin.

You’d been sent out for the summer to help your uncle at his ranch, you didn’t mind too much it’d be giving you more to do than usual. He was happy to have you since most his ranch-hands called out or would be busy trying to fill in the empty spots left by others. So when he heard his favorite niece would be dropping in to help out he was more than delighted.

It was a long, long car ride to his ranch and by the time you had arrived the sun was high in the sky and it was sweltering. You hopped out of your dad’s truck with a smile on your face, your cousin’s Poppy & Nana coming to greet you with enthusiasm, quickly taking your bags. “Look at you two, it feels like it’s been forever since we’ve hung out together!” You say as you nudge Nana’s arm, she laughs a bit as the three of you trudge up the dirt driveway up to the main house.

Poppy opens the door for you as soon as you head inside you hear a squeal from your Aunt Maria, who immediately runs over to scoop you up into a hug. “Sweetheart it has been too long!” She says excitedly as she practically squeezes the air outta you. “I missed ya too aunty but please..please let me go I can’t breathe-!” You manage out as she lets you go, “Oh my! Sorry ‘bout that sugar! It’s just been so long!” She says pinching your cheek a little. “Now, Girls go show her to her room alright? Get all cozy, Jack said he wasn’t gonna have you start work till tomorrow when he can give you the lowdown of everythin’ new.” She said shooing you three up the stairs.

You followed the girls up the stairs as they talked away, you weren’t really invested in the conversation as you looked at all the old pictures that were hung up on the walls. All those old memories made you smile, you were out of it until Poppy pulled you back into reality with a tug on the arm, albeit a hard tug, “You alright there?” She asked, raising a brow at you as nana opened the door to the room, you blinked and flashed her a smile. “Yeah just got a little out of it, this heat whew it is-” “Why don’t we head to the lake!” Nana says with a bright smile as she sets your bags on your bed, cutting you off.

“Oh I don’t know what if your dad needs me here or help with anything I’m not just here to leisure about.” You say as they both sigh dramatically, “C’mon you heard mama, papa’s not gonna need you till tomorrow!” Poppy says crossing her arms, eventually you sigh giving into them and their antics. Excitedly they leave you to get ready telling you to meet them downstairs when done. Once you are ready to go with a little bag that has sunscreen and such inside you hurry downstairs the two girls waiting for you.

You can’t help but grin with their contagious smiles, “Ma! We’re heading to the lake!” Nana calls out to her, “Be safe girls! Be back by sundown too ya hear?” She calls from the kitchen and you all respond with unanimous ‘Yes ma’am!’ before hurrying out the door giggling like a bunch of school girls as you anticipate the cool water of the lake.

It was a bit of a trek until you reached it, shoving branches aside and walking through bushes hoping none of them were poison ivy or poison at all. Once nana pushed a thick willow branch aside you sighed happily, the blue water shining under the high sun. The three of you quickly hurried to the shore finding a nice spot to lay your things.

As you and nana carefully laid things out poppy quickly ditched her shorts she wore over her swimsuit bottoms and ran into the cool water with a loud cheer. She then decided to splash the two of you, causing you to get a cheeky grin. “Oh that’s how it’s gonna be huh?” You asked playfully as you ditched your own shoes and bottoms before running into the water yourself.

The cool embrace of the lake on your warm skin made you feel completely relaxed, until you remembered your motive to run in here in the first place. The time at the lake started with games and running off the rock ledge that overlooked the lake to jump in. Splashing one another or Watching as someone did something dumb for what felt like the 100th time in those hours.

By the time the sun started to settle down in the sky you were resting on your towel as the girls continued to play in the waters. Drifting off into your own daydreams, sunglasses shielding your eyes from the fleeting rays, until you were startled awake by squeal. You assumed something had happened, so you quickly sat up pushing your sunglasses to sit on your head. “What? What happened?” you asked worried, until you saw them giggling over something or more rather..someone.

You let a slight huff at the fact they had you all worried for nothing, you however curiously followed their eyes. Wondering what could’ve caused them to squeal to begin with. Down a good way from your spots on the bank was a man, a rather handsome man you had to admit. Poppy however caught your staring and with a cheeky smile sat beside you, “Ooo! Do I sense a crush perhaps?” She said with a shit eating grin.

Waving her off you stopped staring at the mystery man, “Oh please, You think everything is a crush or love related.” you said, trying to dismiss her packing your stuff away as the sun started to set. Nana was quick to hurry outta the water spotting you and your packing, quickly just tossing her stuff in her bag as you & poppy shook your heads at her mess of a bag now.

All of you hurried back dodging branches and plants until you were on an open stretch the house coming into view, “So..” you started, earning their attention again. “Who was that guy?” you asked, keeping your gaze ahead. You heard the stifled giggles and such from them before nana caught up to you, “He is papa’s right hand man, quite the looker isn’t he?” she teased with a smile. “I suppose,” you said as you walked up the porch steps hearing their squeals and giggles. “But don’t go tellin’ anyone, I barely know that man.” you said sternly pointing at the two of them and they quickly stopped their giggling nodding as you headed inside.

Heading inside your aunt had prepared some dinner for when everyone got back, and as hungry as you were you decided to go and get a shower. Not before your uncle was quick to scoop you up in a hug much to your protest before you fake made a disgusted face before he ruffled up your hair as you headed up the stairs getting a warm shower and some dryer clothes.

After dinner and what not you were sitting upstairs with Poppy & Nana and one or two of the herding dogs, flicking through movies trying to find something to watch. Seeing as none of you could agree on anything it eventually came down to just getting some sleep, the hours at the lake tiring you out and your aunt & uncle calling out a goodnight to you three had reminded you that you’d be out helping in the morning so sleep was a good option.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The birds started chirping and the sun began to peek through the blinds, once it hit your eyes you groaned and began to open your eyes with a squint bringing a hand up to block the bright rays from practically blinding you. Sitting up blinking the sleep from your eyes you took note that it was just you and nana in the room, nana being fast asleep still.

You decided it’d be a good time to wake up and get ready so you could start helping your uncle out, you quickly brushed your hair to look less like you just got up and then you grabbed an outfit from your suitcase that would best suit the chores you’d be doing and the hot summer heat. You quickly made your way downstairs some of the dogs following you, “Mornin’ Sugar!” Aunt Maria called to her as she flipped some pancakes. “Morning Aunt Maria, Where’d poppy run off to?” you asked, snatching up a piece of bacon from the plate on the counter sharing some with the dogs.

“Oh she ran into town to fetch some more seeds for the garden, Jack told me we had extras but I know we didn’t, speakin’ of which since your most likely heading out that way mind giving those breakfast burritos on the counter the boys.” She asked using her spatula to motion to the cloth covered basket. You nodded, finishing the bacon off and grabbing the basket heading out the back door and off the porch to the main farm area and barn.

It wasn’t a long walk by any means, just one that felt long with how the sun sat so high and beating down on you, you spotted your uncle's truck out front of the barn. All the workers either sitting in the bed of the truck or leaning against it, you hurried over with a smile on your face as your uncle spotted you tipping his hat back slightly, a smile coming to his face.

“Hey there sweetheart, whatcha got?” he asked as he got up off the side of the truck walking over. “Aunty asked me to bring these breakfast burritos for you boys.” you said and they all hooted and hollered hurrying off the truck to grab one for themselves making you just laugh and shake your head. “Thank you for that darlin’ , right you all know my niece don’t you?” He asked, raising a brow as a few murmured yes’s and no’s were heard.

“Well you do now,” he said as he motioned to you, moving aside as you gave them all a wave of ‘hello’ then you spotted him, the man from the lake the other day. You didn’t realize you were staring until he made eye contact with you. A rather cheeky smile gracing his lips.

Once they were all done with their burritos the real work began. “Alright, Think you can work on feedin’ all the animals first then we can start on herdin’ the pasture ones back alright?” Your uncle asked and you nodded, “I’m on it!” you said with a smile. “How bout I send someone with ya, we’ve got a few new ones that might need some introduction, How about..Miguel!” your uncle said, clapping his hands together.

You were picking up one of the feed bags off the truck bed when a rather tall and muscular man walked up with a slight smile on his face, “Looks like I’m helpin’ you today sweetheart.” Miguel said, and oh god Miguel was the man from the lake. This realization almost had you dropping the feed bag before you quickly readjusted your hold on the bag. He only chuckled, slightly tilting his head and the brim of his hat up, giving you an even better look at his face, “Come on don’t go fallin’ for me already.' ' he teased at you.

Huffing you adjusted your grip on the bag turning on your heel with a little scoff, “You wish, I would never I barely know you.” You said as you began walking, utter bullshit, you couldn’t lie that his face, his eyes, his damn voice had you enthralled. He only let out a hearty chuckle following you carrying a bag or two of his own, “Then why not get to know me?” He suggested, shaking his head as you sped up your walking speed.

When you finally reached the animals you breathed a sigh of relief, quickly hurrying over to say ‘hello’ to all of them forgetting about Miguel following after you, he stood off to the side as he opened some of the bags watching as you excitedly said ‘hello’ to the ones you knew, all calling them by name then excitedly gasping at the ones you didn't know.

He had to admit he found it amusing, cute even at the way you greeted them all. He had to, he just had to, he cleared his throat which brought you back to your little situation causing you to huff almost and it only made him chuckle as he pushed a feed bag, ready and open your way. You grabbed the bag, opened the pen door and made your way inside without him, starting to fill up all the feeding spots walking about.

Miguel thought this would be a good time to start a conversation, “So, Why do ya keep ignoring me?” he asked and you just hummed in response, “I’m not.” You denied, “Ah-Ah just now you almost did.” He said looking at you, that stupid look on his face had you smiling slightly and rolling your eyes. Trying to look away before he caught it, but oh he caught it. “Hey! I saw that, I made a breakthrough!” He says motioning around to a nonexistent crowd almost proud of himself causing you to shake your head with a slight smile.

You two finished up the feeding chores with relative ease, the tension simply melting away as you two actually got to talking with one another actually getting to know more like he suggested, then you started saddling up some of the horses so they could head out to check for any lost or still loose cattle or sheep. You finished tightening one of the straps, patting the nose of the horse, a smile on your face when it responded with a big sloppy lick to your hand. “Alright, Are we ready to get a move on?” he asked as he took the reins from your hand. “Yep, All saddled up.” you said with a little salute.

“Thank you sugar, how bout you go feed the calves while we’re gone if you're up for it?” your uncle asked, hoping on the horse. “I can’t say no to feeding the calves,” you said with a smile. With a few waves and goodbyes you went off in search of the bottles that had the formula for the calves that were rescued and didn’t exactly take to any cow the ranch had. You grabbed the bucket of bottles and took a seat in the stable stall with one of the babies. Taking the bottle out, the little thing came running and it made you laugh.

You held the bottle up for it and at first it went well until it didn’t somehow, something had gotten on the shirt underneath your overalls and that was not sitting well on your skin with heat in the air. So you thought, hey they wouldn’t be back for maybe an hour or two at most so you unclipped the clips of your overalls and took the shirt off letting it rest on the table that had all the tools and such then you clipped your overalls back up and when right back to taking care of the calves.

To you only 30 maybe 40 minutes had gone by so you still weren’t too worried about putting that shirt back on or heading back to the house as you happily wandered the stable saying ‘hello’ to the horses that stayed behind. Blissfully unaware that Miguel had headed back to grab the hat he had forgotten, quickly making his way inside of the stable. Stopping his tracks quietly when he spotted you petting one of the horses and it seemed innocent enough until his eyes seemed to wander lower..to the point where he noticed you were not wearing a shirt under your overalls. And not wanting to make you uncomfortable or wanting to make anything else happen he just gave up grabbing his hat and left as quietly as possible.

When you had assumed they’d be coming back you went and got the shirt off the workbench and put it back on quickly as the cowboys came into view. You put on a smile and looked ahead as they made their way over and started hopping their horses all saying their ‘hellos’ and such but Miguel just completely ignored you, was he not going on about you ignoring despite barely knowing him earlier? What a hypocrite.

You just shrugged it off, what would it matter really, you said a quick ‘hello’ to your uncle as you checked the time, you had promised you’d spend the last few hours before the sun actually set at the lake with the girls and you had to depart to get ready. Simply brushing off Miguel ignoring you, you went back to the main house to change and once you were done you headed off however little did you know you’d spend your time alone at the lake..well for a little bit at least.

You relaxed on the bank for a little bit taking in the sun's rays after applying sunscreen of course, waiting thinking maybe they’d got busy or something. So you went from enjoying the water to resting on the shore to reading the book you brought until you exhaled a bit annoyed. You got up, gathered your things, slipped your shorts back on and made your way back to the main house in a slight huff.

When you opened the door your aunt seemed to pick up on your bad mood, “What’s the matter pumpkin?” she asked as she dried her hands with the towel. “The girls told me to meet them at the lake and then they just didn’t come!” you said with arm motions. She seemed to shake her head and sigh, “Well if your looking to pick a bone with them they might’ve gone down to the guest house to deliver the fruit like I asked, the one where the cowboys are stayin’.” She said, giving you a little nod. You thanked her begrudgingly before starting your way to the guest house, saying hello to the cowboys you saw as you headed by whether they were lugging hay or simply just passing by.

You got to the guest house and opened the front door, it was rather empty, and you didn’t hear any giggling, not even a hint of your cousin’s voices, you raised your brow carefully making your way down the hallway. You continued until you saw a door slightly creaked open, you neared it hoping maybe your cousin’s were just fooling around here and that you could drag them back. But that idea quickly evaporated as you neared closer you heard..grunts? At first you thought it was one of pain but when you got a view of what was behind the just barely opened door you quickly realized it was not one of pain rather of pleasure.

There Miguel laid on presumably his bed, legs spread slightly, cowboy hat resting lazily over his head, pants just barely down his thighs as his head moved up his hard erection..precum leaking from the red angry tip. You couldn’t help but stare, biting back the gasps with a hand over your mouth. His teeth sucking his bottom lip back slightly exposing his sharp canines that had you feeling some kind of way, but oh boy it just got better as soon as you mindlessly dropped your hand from your mouth he muttered out your name, “Dios... Ni siquiera sé cómo me hiciste esto..(God... I don't even know how you did this to me.)” He murmured out in Spanish as he hissed when he glided his thumb over the leaking slit.

Miguel was lost in his own thoughts, his mind flitting back to when he saw you in the stable in nothing but your shoes and overalls. He groaned out as he moved his hand up, he knew it was wrong and dirty not just for the fact that he was just getting to know you but the fact he wished it was your hands and not his then he was snapped back to reality by a noise..

You gasped and your gasp got his attention causing you to quickly hide behind the wall before he could spot you, when you heard him moving off the bed you were quick to run as quietly down the hallway. Your feet carried you quickly as you hurried out of the guest house not wanting to get caught in the slightest.

Your heart felt like it was in your ears, your cheeks felt hot, hell your whole body felt hot. You hurried quick and fast to the main house, your feet just carrying you inside as you gave a quick ‘hello’ to your Aunt before going to your room flopping onto your bed. Burying your head into your pillow and just screaming muffling it.

God..he was thinking about YOU? That had your heart feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest, you rolled onto your back as you stared at the ceiling that moment replaying in your head causing you to subconsciously rub your thighs together before you brought your hands up to smack your cheeks, mentally cursing yourself for feeling this way.

Huffing you sat up on the bed grabbing your journal you brought with you, “God..Was he really thinking about me? But why,” you murmured as you flipped out the journal trying to write it out of your mind at least so you could push it off and act as if normal. By the time you finished you were called down for dinner and you just inhaled and exhaled pushing it to the back of your mind shoving the Journal under your pillow and heading down.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

By the time dinner was done you and poppy were helping with the dishes as a few of the cowboys stopped by to drop off some stuff and there he was again, you quickly looked away as he spotted you offering you a sweet smile and tilt of his hat. You only just ignored him continuing your conversation with poppy and working on the dishes.

When you finished you quickly dried your hands not wanting to stick around for very long you couldn’t even fathom why seeing him again got you so much more worked up than it should. “I’m headin’ to bed really tired, Night everyone!” you called quickly as you hurried up the stairs to your bedroom causing Miguel and a few others to raise a brow before just brushing it off to turn to their own things.

You inhaled sharply and exhaled laying onto your bed, your hands traveling gingerly down your stomach to the hem of your pj shorts. Your fingers slipping past the hem of the shorts to your panty clad cunt, exhaling slightly as your fingers brushed over your cunt that slight pressure you added caused your body to melt slightly into your pillows. Your mind clouding with thoughts of him, before the sound of someone coming upstairs snapped you back to reality.

You quickly pulled away from your shorts and grabbed a random book from the nightstand to act as if you were reading. Poppy and Nana came bursting in with a movie for the three of you to watch and you all but sighed happily as it was something to completely take your mind off it.

The movie was put in and the lights were turned off getting all cozy in your beds and watching the movie until you all but fell asleep..

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

For the next few days you did your best to keep your distance from Miguel but your hard-headedness to stay away from him only had him more intrigued and always earned a laugh from him because you always denied his questions whenever he asked one and you denied his help just to make it easier, but it seemed to fail every now and again considering your help to your uncle’s work and with him always having the cowboys with him you only ever saw him everyday..

The next morning came and you decided you’d just avoid Miguel completely and only interact if you just HAD to interact with him thinking that it would be best especially because of the way you made him feel and with the way he had you feeling even if you were just getting to know him better.

Today you dawned a nice summer dress as you were going to help your Aunt in the garden to keep a distance between you and him. You put on a sun hat and followed your Aunt out to the garden to work on the precious marigolds she had planted that were getting swallowed by the pesky weeds.

Dropping down onto your knees and getting to work right away you heard a clatter of tools causing your head to whip around to where it came from, and god fucking dammit you swore nothing was on your side this week, it was miguel, tool belt beside him and a few fence posts as he shot you an apologetic smile. “Sorry bout’ that didn’t mean to startle you act like I’m not here.” you only hummed in response, turning your attention back to the flowers.

Digging into the dirt yanking weed after weed out as the sun began to rise high into the sky above, causing you to start to sweat under the hot rays. You huffed sitting back on your heels as you dusted your hands off of dirt with the exception of some stuck under your nails. Miguel heard your little huff and his eyes happened to wander your way, gazing unapologetically up your figure, your flushed face and slightly pouted lips catching his attention.

He cleared his throat slightly, turning his attention back to the fence, “You doin’ alright Miss?” he asked, tipping his hat back slightly. You just hummed in response earning a small frown from him, “What?” you asked, raising a brow. “How come you keep ignorin’ me, I thought we were making progress?” he said as he looked at you.

“Well, You started it when you came back from the stable that day and completely ignored me.” you shot back as you crossed your arms, “I did not I was just busy,” he said more matter of factly. The way he seemed so hurt by your antics had you feeling bad almost, you eventually sighed dropping your arms to your side. “Alright fine I have been but I ain’t telling you why, BUT I will make a better effort to stop ignoring you I suppose.” You said and you watched as his face brightened slightly.

“Well I think I’d be the happiest cowboy around,” He said with that stupid smile, “You're so weird.” You stated, shaking your head and turning your attention back to the weeds. He only laughed and went right back to his job, that’s what sparked the two of you talking again, you knew deep down you weren’t gonna be able to ignore him even if you tried because that really only made things awkward so you decided it would be best to try and be his friend.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

That is how you spent some of your days, getting to know him and then spilling your feelings to your little diary and then going right back at being friendly, well one fateful day you made the mistake of leaving your diary not entirely under your pillow.

You were helping Miguel lug some hay to the truck and you exhaled, noticing the way your skin was getting a little red, “Damn, Hey Miguel could you go to my room and grab my sunscreen for me? I’ll finish loading up the hay if you do.” You said giving him a little smile and he sighed with a laugh. “Alright alright I’ll go fetch it, Where would I find it?” He asked stopping in his tracks.

“On the nightstand!” You called back as you grabbed another bale, he nodded giving you a little salute before setting off. He headed inside offering a polite ‘hello’ to your aunt before going upstairs finding your room and heading inside. Originally he was just here to grab the sunscreen and go but a little book peeking out from behind your pillow had him curious.

He stopped for a moment before he eventually caved and carefully picked it up in his hands, just a peek, it wouldn’t hurt really. Just a peek turned into reading some pages and skipping others, that was until he stumbled upon some of the more..explicit pages and they seemed to be about him. God he felt his pride swell, the way you thought about him and looked at him.

“Well damn little lady..” Miguel murmured with a slight smile on his face before he shut the journal, having now learned about your developing crush on him and the way you thought about him. He grabbed the sunscreen and headed back down and out with a curt tip of his hat.

You noticed when he was walking back he had a little beat to his steps causing you to smile and raise a brow as you took the sunscreen from him. “What’s got you so happy go lucky?” you asked as you applied some on your face and arms and he just hummed in response. “Eh no particular thing, can’t a man just be happy hm?” He teased you and you playfully swatted at his arm. Once you were all good with the sunscreen you two got back to work, all the moving and feeding and more moving of stuff had you both out till the sun was settling near the mountain tops.

“Hm, Looks like we should start headin’ back Miguel.” You said looking at the way the sun was settling, “Ah right, can’t believe the day slipped away from us that damn quick.” He said as he adjusted his hat to sit back on his head slightly, you couldn’t help but admire his features slightly before snapping yourself out of it. “Miguel, I was wondering if you, I mean if you and any of the cowboys would like to come down to the main house for a lunch of sorts,” Miguel smiled coyly at your little invitation, “Oh? You're inviting little ol’ me huh?” he said his smile went from coy to smug and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“You wish, I’m doing it as a request from my aunt.” You said lying through your teeth, no you were wholeheartedly inviting Miguel, using your aunt as an excuse so he didn’t see right through you. However that was long gone really, he already saw right through you, you and your dirty little thoughts with the way you looked at him and what he learned from your diary. He dramatically put a hand over his heart, “I am truly honored sugar,” he joked causing you to roll your eyes again starting your way back to the main house.

His smile never leaving his face,”See ya tomorrow sweetheart,” he laughed as you turned away from him quickly heading back to the main house to wash up for dinner, he knew damn well what he was going to do tomorrow to get you alone and he couldn’t wait.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

He spent his day counting down the minutes till he could meet you for lunch well you and your family really, when he saw how the time neared closer he had gone back to the guest house to freshen up opting for a nicely pressed shirt, one of his nice belts, and some jeans that he knew you thought looked damn good on him. Grabbing his hat swiftly and the sunflowers he got just for today.

Making sure he didn’t look too eager he toned down his steps and his excitement, knocking on the front door adjusting his grip on the flowers. He heard you call out ‘I got it!’ before your footsteps followed, opening the door you were the picture of summer. Wearing a nice little sundress, hair more loose and free, and a smile creeping its way onto your face. “Howdy little miss.” He said his southern drawl coming out more has he held the flowers out to you.

You accepted them gratefully, “Miguel you really didn’t have to-” “I wanted to sugar, there’s a difference.” He hummed as he walked inside with you greeting your aunt and uncle with his usual polite demeanor and then greeting your cousins with that smile of his. You couldn’t help but grin, going and finding a vase for the flowers. “He’s a real nice boy ain’t he?” your aunt asked, having noticed your grin.

Still subconsciously smiling as you filled the vase with water you shrugged, “Yeah I suppose he is.” She just laughed a bit as she brought the food and drinks to the table with you following behind her setting the beautiful sunflowers as the centerpiece. Calling everyone to the table for lunch, you settled into your seat, Miguel sitting in the seat beside you which was across from your uncle so they could continue whatever conversation they were having.

You all served yourselves and then conversations began, it felt like most lunches with the addition of Miguel, little did you know what he was planning. He knew how the herding dogs were so when your aunt went to grab the pitcher of juice he sneakily tossed a piece of food underneath the table causing all of them to make a run for the food bumping your aunt’s chair, the pitcher of juice ended up splashing all over your sundress causing you to squeal and jump up.

You quickly excused yourself to hurry up stairs to remove the splotches of color that had begun to seep into the fabric more and more. Miguel excused himself as well, saying he had a call to take and it was rather important. Your family thought nothing of it, just hoping you’d be alright. He headed up the stairs with ease as he heard the sink start to run. Inside you had grabbed a cloth and began to rub at the stains without much thought.

Then a knock sounded and you sighed thinking it was your Aunt or cousins you opened it, it was Miguel. “Ah- I’m sorry I’m tryin’ to-” Miguel cut you off, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I know how to get pesky stains out especially ones that ruin such a nice dress.” You blinked the nickname felt less innocent for some reason especially with the way he was looking at you.

You cleared your throat allowing him to come in and shut the door as he kneeled down digging through the cabinets, “Ah here we are,” He said holding some bleach, “This oughta help somewhat.” He hummed as he dabbed a cloth with some leaning forward looking at you for your permission. You nodded slowly and he brought the cloth to one of the stains, wiping gently. His touch so gentle and soft had your stomach erupting in butterflies.

You felt your arousal grow slightly from his little touches and ministrations and the way he always looked to you with those eyes as a way of asking. You couldn’t help but stare at him, analyzing his features and then a chuckle erupted from his chest causing you to snap back to the situation. “Darlin’ If you keep staring at me that way I might just have to do what your little diary says.” the mention of your diary as your cheeks flushing red and your heart speeding up more than it was before. “I beg your pardon?” was all you could manage out.

He chuckled, setting the cloth aside and moving closer, “I didn’t wanna tell you this sugar but I’ve read your little journal and all the thoughts you think bout me.” He whispered softly against your ear causing you to shudder slightly. “Miguel I can explain-” You started, “Shh, Shh no need sweetheart, I know exactly what you need.” He said softly as he leaned closer, his lips hovering just away from yours. “Question is, do you really want this?” He asked wanting to really make sure this wasn’t some wet dream or that it wasn’t you who felt this way. You swallowed hard as you exhaled shakily, nodding, “Words sugar.” He said softly against your lips. “Yes Miguel, Please.” You pleaded slightly and he chuckled, shaking his head. “Goodness little miss your going to be the death of me.” He teased before your lips met.

It started out soft and sweet then grew into something more passionate and rough as his hands rested on your hips, his thumbs tracing patterns on the cloth that covered them. You pulled away for air, your breathing coming out in small pants and huffs. “Look at you..Kiss bitten lips all needy for me.” Miguel said with a slight smug smirk, “I’m not needy.” You shot back at him with a small huff.

His hand went from your hips to your thigh working up to your panty covered clit, a gasp eliciting from your throat. “Not so needy huh?” he teases as he rubs a thumb over your covered clit groaning at the way your arousal has made your panties wet. “Not-Not needy at all,” You managed out as a whine followed your words when his hand moved away.

“Then maybe I shouldn’t,” He started before you sighed, “Please Miguel..” You murmured, earning a smile from him, “Please what?” he said, pushing you on. “I need you.” you whined out earning a satisfactory chuckle, his hands found your waist and he hoisted you up to sit on the counters of the bathroom. His lips immediately find your inner thigh, sucking marks into the soft skin.

His hands wander as you let out small gasps and cries trying to be quiet, as you beg for him, as you beg TO him. God he never really thought his little idea would work but here he was buried in between your thighs, what a dream. His lips inched closer and closer to where you wanted him, he gently pulled your panties down and off. Then he licked a slow stripe up your folds eliciting a moan from you causing you to cover your mouth.

You could practically feel the smile he had on his face, he began eating you out like you were the last meal he’d ever eat. His tongue working your leaking hole then focusing directly on your clit. Humming gently when his lips wrapped around the sensitive bud causing a guttural noise to slip past your hand. His pace is unforgivable with the way he’s eating you.

He acts like he's a starved man eating the most delicious food alive and he just can’t stop, one hand keeping your thighs apart and the other massaging the soft supple skin. The way he alternates between tongue fucking you then sucking at your clit has your head in the cloud feeling like your on cloud nine.

Without warning he shoves two fingers in causing you to gasp at the surprise feeling, his fingers working slowly but surely in a soft pace to give you time until you're practically begging for more and he gives you more. His fingers curl in the right spots as he pumps his fingers in and out of you sloppily kissing and licking at your clit.

All the stimulation has your head reeling as a knot forms in your stomach, he doesn’t stop, he makes direct eye contact with you with that smug smile on his face as the knot snaps. Your velvety walls spasming around his fingers as you orgasm, your eyes shut tight as he laps up all of it slowly letting you down from your high as you exhale sharply when he removes his fingers.

His hands come to make quick work of his belt and jeans bringing his boxers and jeans just low enough for his painfully hard cock to spring out. You can’t help but stare as he works it slightly, your mouth practically hanging open at the sight of it, precum beading at the tip as he works it slightly lining his head up with your entrance.

He looks to you for another affirmation and you nod looking up at him with those pleading eyes again and he can’t say no to you. He nudges his head in before plunging in full force eliciting a loud moan from your lips and groans from his with how tight you are around him. “God..So tight, such a good girl I swear.” he murmurs as he begins thrusting into your cunt, the praise causing your pussy to flutter around him. He acknowledged this with a little smirk.

“You like that huh? You like being my good girl,” He huffs out earning a whine from you, he lands a small slap to your ass causing a yelp to fall from your lips. “I asked you a question.” He said gruffly his change in attitude had your stomach feeling butterflies. “Yes, Yes s’good Miguel!” You cried out as his pace became relentless. His smirk remained at the way you reacted to all of this. His hands have a grip on your hips that’ll most definitely bruise without a doubt.

His face finds itself in the crevice of your neck placing soft kisses and words of praise into your ear, your mind practically melts from all of this as he fucks you with such a pace, the sound of skin slapping and your muffled whines and cries becoming evident as he continues on. Your legs come to wrap around his back slightly as he pulls his face away to watch where you two connect. “Tan condenadamente apretada, tan buena para mí.(So damn tight, so good for me.)” He managed out as your walls fluttered around him, having a vice on his cock.

“That feel good? Hm?” he asked knowing damn well your practically fucked dumb at this point, nodding your eyes fluttering open as he comes to rhythmic pace that’s hitting all the right spots for you. He continues to praise you and kiss up your neck leaving marks occasionally just because he can. With the way your walls clench around him he can tell your close, his free hand comes down to rub circles on your clit making you gasp and your head loll back onto the mirror behind you.”So damn needy for me..Taking all you can get.” he chuckled out.

“I’m not needy,” you managed out best you could as you took his hat from him, He shook his head at your hard-headedness “Eres tan terco…(You are so stubborn..)” He huffed out with a chuckle, quickly taking his hat back from you as you shot him a mischievous smile even in your mind melted state. Rolling your hips eliciting a groan from the cowboy who tossed his head back, his hat covering his face.

He hums slightly, leaning down to plant kisses on your collarbone and shoulder, “That’s how you wanna play huh?” he murmurs into your skin, his pace picking up almost knocking the air out of you, the lewd noises that spill from your lips spur him on, and that familiar knot tightens in your stomach, then the coil snaps and your cunts warm walls restrict around him and he can’t help but groan before he quickly pulls out before he can cum. Causing a small whine from you at the loss of feeling full.

“You wanna play games then we can play games sugar.” He says as he brings you off the counter onto your knees, you swallow thickly as you gently kitten lick the tip of his cock, soft and slowly. Teasing him with it, earning low groans and even slight whines from him. You don’t get very far with your tricky endeavors before he bucks his hips slightly causing you to gag around it. “Sorry bout that darlin’ just can’t help myself.” he says with a slight smile.

You start a steady pace, your hands resting on his thighs as you bob your head back and forth, your nose touching the tip of his pelvis before you pull off of him just to tease him again. He groans out before laughing slightly, his hand coming to find itself behind your head. “God you are just a little tease ain’tcha.” he says before thrusting into your mouth, causing you to gag slightly and pat his thighs. Tears welling in your eyes.

“Shh shh, it’s alright just relax.” He says softly and you try to, finding a steady breathing pace through your nose and relaxing your throat slightly. He begins face fucking your practically, drool coming to spill from the side of your mouth and nose tickling his pelvis as the hums you produced in response to his praises elicited groans and huffs from him.

His pace was rhythmic until it became erratic, his breathing becoming more uneven, “Don’t think I’m gonna last any longer.” Miguel huffs out as his pace becomes more needy. You hum around him and he groans, begging you to do that again and you oblige, humming around his length gagging slightly. The sensations send him over the edge after a few more thrusts his cum spurts down your throat causing you to swallow out of reflex, he slowly pulls out a string of spit connecting him to your kiss bitten drool covered lips. God the sight of alone could have had him going again he leaned forward wiping a thumb over your lip to wipe the drool away as you swallowed.

He planted a small kiss on your temple, “You're just perfect darlin’.” He praises making you smile slightly as he helped you stand up, a hand resting on your hips. “Maybe we should head back down, Wouldn’t want your family to worry too much.” you hummed in response, “I’m gonna change first, you go on down.” you said softly planting a kiss to his cheek as you carefully exited the bathroom to go back to the room.

Could this be the start of something real with this cowboy?

Fin.

[blueicequeen19]

The Rich & The Damned

Warnings: unprotected sex, implied sexy accountant, public car sex, choking

How did I get here? Men usually paid annual salaries just to get a few minutes of my time but now.. I’m in the front seat of a Rolls Royce for free. With a man who doesn’t respect what I do. Who wants me to quit my job and be his good little wife. He infuriates me. He belittles me. But fuck.. his touch turns my PHD brain into mush.

I’m good at what I do. I recognize my skill set and I know how to play powerful men. I’ve paid my bills with cash in advance for years and put myself through Ivy League schools that only care about last names. I don’t have a big name but I have loaded pockets and that speaks volumes. So why the fuck am I on this man’s lap, dying for a scrap of attention when he can no longer be bothered to come inside to see me?

“Fuck me.. please.. I need you.” I whine, tugging on his hair as he peppers kisses along my throat and collar bone, large hands palming my thong-clad ass and rock me against his erection.

“Come home with me.” He growls, taking a chunk of my flesh between his teeth and making me hiss as I shove his head away.

“I told you not to mark me.” I snap, glaring at him even as his blue eyes shine with amusement and mischief.

“And I told you if you wanted back in my bed, you had to stay off the pole.” His words sting, even with the red lipstick smeared across his mouth. If anything the smirk on his face combined with the red smear made him look even more sinister.

I pull my lips back in a snarl as his hand slides between my parted things to cup my pussy. I slap at his hand but his free hand finds my throat, pushing my back against the dash and squeezing hard.

“You’re not for them.” He growls, tucking my thong to the side before shoving two then three fingers inside me. My eyes roll back into my head, my pussy gushing in his hand as he strokes my sweet spot.

“I-I’m not yours.” I rasp, riding his hand like a desperate whore. God, I’d agree to anything right now if it meant I got to feel his fat cock inside me again. Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen to my brain as he squeezes even harder.

“Don’t lie to me. You’re not very good at it.” His words light me on fire again, making me dig my nails into his chest as I try to lift off his hand. The hand around my throat drops to my chest and he yanks my bra down so my breasts spill out.

“I guess we’re both liars.” I purr, just as his hot mouth closes around my nipple and sucks hard. I was so close to my orgasm I could feel it in my toes. I throw my head back as I shamelessly ride his hand but I desperately craved his cock instead.

“Maybe if you’d stop treating me like one of your customers.” I yelp when he’s teeth sink into my nipple so hard, I know there’s blood. Or the very least, a new piercing. His fingers leave me aching and needy in their retreat.

“Stop treating me like a whore and maybe I’d treat you like someone who actually means something to me.” I bite back, shoving his chest hard as I hear the sound of his belt buckle. When his cock springs free between us it takes everything in me to keep my composure. His large hand wraps around the thick shaft as he strokes himself almost lazily. The tip leaked clear drops of precum that I desperately wanted to chase with my tongue.

“Fuck me in my bed and maybe I’ll believe you’re somebody else.”

I was so fucking weak for him. I wanted to choke on it even if it meant I didn’t get off. If he fucked my throat until it was raw, I’d say thank you like the obedient slut I was. But only for him. Only ever him. So why didn’t he get that? I’d fuck him in front of every single client I had just to show him I was his. He could lead me around on a leash if that’s what it took.

I reached back to unhook my bra and let it fall to the floor before wrapping my hand around his on his cock. I savor the way his eyes become hooded and his breathing becomes labored just from my touch. I loved that he was as weak as I was.

“You—,” I brought my other hand up to his throat, squeezing the best I could until his eyes fully dilated while I lifted myself up on his thighs, “—don’t own—,” I notched his thick cock at my entrance and sank down one excruciating inch, “—me.” I sank down the rest of the way, my body welcoming the pain and stretch of him as his breathy moans met my ears.

It was always in moments like these where it became obvious that Rafe Cameron was fucking mine.

[roosterforme]

The Intern Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley had an easy way about him that you appreciated. Working for him all summer sounded promising, and you were determined to make it fun for both of you. But as you dipped your toes into getting to know one another on the flights from San Diego to Lisbon, you ended up closer to him than you ought to be, both conversationally and physically.

Warnings: Language, brief mention of drugs (eventually 18+)

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32

"I still can't believe someone is paying me fifty thousand dollars to spend my summer on a yacht," you mused as the private Cessna jet gained altitude over the California desert landscape. 

Bradley turned and looked at you from his plush leather seat across the narrow aisle and smirked. "You needed the money that badly?"

"Don't play games," you told him, and he laughed. "My point is, I would have done this for free just to get Ted off my back."

His fingers tightened a bit on his armrest, knuckles growing white as he closed his eyes and said, "Now you tell me. My department budget could be looking a lot fatter right now if it wasn't for you."

You could feel the airplane leveling out as the flight attendant, a woman named Melissa, stood and made her way back toward the two of you. "Oh please," you groaned, earning one of those grins from him that made you feel light inside. "I know how much the shareholders make, Mr. Bradshaw. It's not like it's not listed on the Nasdaq Composite if you dig deep enough."

"Can I get anything for either of you?" Melissa asked. 

"I'll take an Old Fashioned, please. Hold the cherries," you replied while Bradley just shook his head in a jerky motion.

When Melissa disappeared behind the black curtain, you asked, "Why are you so tense? Have a drink and relax."

He huffed out a laugh. "It's eight in the morning. A drink is not going to help me."

You leaned a little closer, and his gaze definitely dipped down to your unzipped sweatshirt. "Don't tell me you're into something harder?" you asked, already thinking you'd be disappointed by his answer. You'd been there and done that. Hung out with and dated guys who were users, and it was not something you wanted to be around. Even out of your sorority sisters, there were only a handful who weren't high all week during grad school.

Bradley looked at you with alarm. "I'm absolutely not going to allow drugs on the yacht, Ivy League."

"Good," you replied right away, already feeling more at ease as Melissa dropped off your cocktail. "Thank you."

But she was looking at Bradley now as she said, "Please let me know if I can get you... anything."

He waved her off as you took a sip of your mediocre cocktail. Melissa had gone a little heavy handed with the bitters, probably because she was too focused on your hot boss to measure things correctly. "Take a sip," you told him, reaching across the aisle with your glass. "You look like you need it."

He grunted and accepted the drink, and a few seconds later, he had downed the whole thing. "Thanks," he whispered. "I hate this part of traveling to Europe for Avio. The flights are going to take forever."

You narrowed your eyes at him and took back your empty glass while he white knuckled the armrest again. "You were an aviator, Mr. Bradshaw."

When he looked at you again, his cheeks were a little flushed as he softly said, "You don't have to call me that. Bradley is fine." 

"Bradley," you said with a smile, and his face softened a little bit. "Why don't you like the Cessna? I mean, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also hoping for something at least a little more luxurious from Avio, but it's not that bad."

He shook his head at you, something you were pretty sure you were just going to have to get used to for the summer. But his mustache twitched as he licked his lips and said, "Maybe chartered flights are normal for you, Ivy League, but I got used to being the pilot. Of something much less comfortable than a Cessna Hemisphere. So this just feels inherently wrong to me. I mean, I just drank a cocktail."

"Inhaled," you corrected. "And technically it was my cocktail," you said, waving to Melissa and holding up the glass and two fingers.

"Semantics," he grunted. "I miss my Super Hornet right now. Not only were there no drinks, there wasn't even a bathroom."

You watched Melissa duck behind the curtain again, probably to forget how to make a cocktail again. "Well, we'll be there soon," you told Bradley.

"I doubt these pilots can do Mach 2, so not fast enough for me."

You sighed, knowing this would probably be a lot easier for him if you could get him to drink a second Old Fashioned, but when Melissa dropped two more of them off, they were both garnished with a cherry. "I asked you to hold the cherries."

"Oh, yes. Sorry," Melissa muttered. "I can remove it for you."

"I'm allergic, so I'll actually need you to remake mine," you replied, and Bradley started to hand his back as well.

"Remake hers, and mine too," he grunted, suddenly looking far less nervous about the flight as he made to stand up. "Fresh glasses and everything. I don't want cherries anywhere near her." You looked up at him in surprise as he kind of rolled his eyes and followed Melissa. "I'll make sure she does it right," he whispered, and you watched him walk up to the curtain, as confident as he usually was.

"Thanks," you replied, even though nobody was there to hear you now. Well, he had promised he'd do everything he could to keep you safe and comfortable. You watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, and you pressed your lips together. That blue Oxford shirt was the exact best color he could possibly wear, and you wondered if he knew it or if it was an accident that he chose it.

When he met your eyes, you didn't look away. You didn't really care if he knew you were checking him out. Until you did. Because when he walked back with two new drinks, you realized how little you knew about him. "Here," he grunted, voice deep and raspy. Then he clinked his glass to yours before sinking back into the aisle seat opposite yours again and buckling his seatbelt once more. 

"Thanks for doing that."

He smiled at you. "Can't lose my intern on her first day. Especially since I've never had one before."

You perked up, loving that you'd cornered the market. "I'm your first intern?"

"Yeah." He was back to downing his drink and looking miserable now, practically throwing the empty glass aside in favor of gripping the armrest. Abandoning your drink after one sip, you stood and stepped over his outstretched legs, his eyes following your every move as you eased yourself down into the window seat next to him. "You okay?" he asked, looking a little amused now that you were just inches away from him.

"I am, but you're not," you told him with an air of authority. "Just relax," you added as you took his hand from the armrest and held it in both of yours. His brown eyes went a little wider, and his lips parted like he wanted to say something. Probably question what you were doing. But you said, "You'll feel better in a few minutes," as you worked your thumbs along the pressure points in his big, rough palm. And then he closed his eyes and without a word, he leaned back in his seat with his hand cradled in yours. Soon he was sound asleep.

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

Bradley woke up to an almost pleasant humming sound all around him. His hand was warm and wrapped up in something soft, and when he opened his eyes, your face was just a few inches from his as you slept. His body thrummed with something akin to desire as you pursed your haughty lips in your sleep, long lashes grazing your perfect cheeks. 

Shit. His hand was resting on your body, fingers tangled up with yours and wrapped in your designer hoodie. His knuckles were pressed to the soft skin which was exposed between your high waisted pants and your damn sports bra. And based on the way the plane was started to descend, he'd taken a five fucking hour nap all cuddled up with his intern. With Ted's goddamn daughter.

Hands off. He'd been telling himself to keep his hands off of you, and just a few hours in, he was literally doing the exact opposite. But you'd been sweet to him, carefully massaging the pressure points in his hand until he was able to fall asleep. You must have drifted off then, too. And now he was loath to remove his hand from your body or look away from you.

He needed another fucking drink. Or several. He leaned carefully over you, and sure enough, he could see the New York skyline coming into view through the small window. And he could smell your perfume. And that was when you opened your eyes, immediately sitting up a few inches and nearly bumping noses with him.

"Sorry," he grunted. "I was just trying to see where we were."

"Where are we?" you asked, your voice soft and a little rough from sleep. Jesus, he liked the way that sounded. 

"Almost to New York. Want me to ask the pilot to circle back to Philly so you can wave to your alma mater?"

You laughed and sat up a little more, arching your back, but you didn't immediately let go of him. "No, thank you. I've only been gone for a week, so I'm sure the City of Brotherly Love is enjoying this break."

Bradley found himself continually laughing at your words, but now you were looking at his hand all linked with yours, so he started to pull his free. You didn't stop him, and when you looked up at him, you even asked, "Did you sleep okay?"

He nodded his head once. "I did. Thank you. For making me feel better."

You sat up the rest of the way and stretched, and he had to look away as you said, "A good intern is good at everything."

Your words weren't dirty, so why the hell were his thoughts? He should be trying to find out more about your father, not imagining you wearing a fluffy white bathrobe while you drank an Old Fashioned sans cherry next to his bed. He was miles away in his mind when the plane touched down on the runway before taxiing to the refueling spot. His stomach was growling wildly now as Melissa walked back and offered them a very late lunch. 

"I didn't want to interrupt anything," she said, looking between you and Bradley like the two of you had been all over each other. When she turned away to get the salads and sandwiches ready, you climbed over him to use the bathroom, and Bradley watched you ignore a phone call as you went. He also realized that he'd have to tread very carefully around potential clients over the next few weeks. It was one thing for Melissa to make a comment like that, but it would be something entirely different if a line like that got back to Ted.

While the plane was refueled and the pilots switched places for the longer flight from New York to Portugal, you and he ate in companionable silence. You'd returned to your seat across the aisle, and you ignored another call before tucking your phone away in your bag. Bradley also used this time to drink a gin and tonic in the hopes he'd be able to sleep again, slightly afraid you wouldn't join him on his side of the aisle to make him feel cozy again. 

"We'll be taking off again in five minutes," Melissa informed him as she cleared away the meal and brought pillows and blankets. Your phone was out again now, and you ignored yet another call as Bradley shook his head.

"Are you going to keep me up at all hours of the night on the yacht yelling at your little boyfriend on the phone?"

You scoffed and looked right at him as you said, "I don't date little boys. Are you going to keep me up calling your wife and kids back in San Diego?"

He didn't want to laugh at the way you talked to him and kept him on his toes. He also registered that the way you'd let him hold your hand while he slept had only come from a platonic place if you were just now asking if he was married. "I don't have a wife or kids."

"Why not?" you asked, leaning on your armrest with your tits smashed together. "You could be married. If you wanted. You're tall and you have all your hair."

"Are those the only prerequisites?" he asked, trying not to look anywhere other than at your face. God, your little bikinis were going to be the absolute death of him if he didn't get fucking laid soon.

"No," you replied without missing a beat. "You're smart, too. Handsome. Tons of money. And you seem nice. Good manners. You make me laugh. Seems like someone would have snapped you up off the market by now."

His cheeks felt warm again as he tried to figure out how to answer. You'd just complimented him nine different ways, and he was reeling a bit. "Because I was in the Navy. Nobody in their right mind would trust a Navy guy with that level of commitment."

"Why not?"

"They lie and they cheat," he said, repeating the lines women had been telling him since he was twenty two. "Nobody you'd want to settle down with."

But you didn't look convinced as your smile tilted a little higher on one side. "Are you a cheater?"

He knew somehow he wouldn't get away with speaking anything but the plain truth to you from here on out. "No."

"I didn't think so." You looked satisfied as you settled back in your seat, about to snuggle under your blanket. The sky was a little darker now, and there was nothing below except for the Atlantic Ocean. 

He had a slight buzz from the gin, and he felt a lot better than he had earlier this morning. He reached for his bag and pulled out his laptop before crooking his finger and coaxing you back to the seat next to him. "We have a little work to do, Ivy League."

While he expected you to complain, you didn't. Rather you popped out of your seat with your pillow and blanket, climbed over him and settled in the window seat once more. "What is it?" you asked eagerly, and when he logged in to his email account, he saw something from Ted right away. Just a reminder to keep himself on track.

"I'm going to teach you a little bit about the Avio software we will be marketing, so by the time we land in Lisbon, you'll know as much as I do."

You curled up with your pillow and blanket and looked at him, your words doing more to him than you probably intended. "Don't test me, Sir, or I may end up knowing more than you."

"You're a brat."

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

This time when you woke up, it wasn't to Bradley's touch or his brown eyes. This time it was to Melissa's laughter and Bradley's soft voice. "When are you flying back to the states?" she asked him as you cracked your eyes open. 

"Not any time soon," he replied smoothly. "We have a lot of work to do."

"Well I hope I'm on your flight back," she said flirtatiously as you propped your head up. 

But Bradley wasn't paying attention to her now as he turned your way. "You're up," he mused, and you just nodded, wishing you'd had time to shower or check how you looked before he saw you. "We'll be landing soon. And then we'll get you and your designer luggage to the yacht."

You watched Melissa roll her eyes at you before she stood. "I'll be right back with coffee and some breakfast."

"Hold the cherries! Please!" you reminded her, just to be obnoxious. When she pretended she didn't hear you, Bradley chuckled. "You know, it's kind of refreshing being given an attitude. Is this how you feel when I give you one?"

His eyes went a little wider. "Don't make me call your father."

"I thought you valued your intern," you replied with a smirk. "So don't make me spread that nasty little rumor around Avio that you went to the University of Bumblefuck."

"Virginia," he snorted.

"Whatever."

Melissa dropped off mugs, a carafe of coffee, cream, sugar and pastries. "No cherry," she said blandly as you reached for a blueberry muffin. 

"Much appreciated," you replied as you peeled back the wrapper and took a nibble while Bradley ate an apple danish in two bites before he poured coffee into both mugs. Clearly the two of you were hungry. You also had no idea what time it was. You had to put your phone on silent since your dad wouldn't stop calling you, even though you told him you'd talk to him when you got on the yacht.

"How do you take your coffee?" Bradley asked as you silently chewed. You went to reach for the creamer, but he pulled it away and looked at you. 

You swallowed down your muffin and said, "Cream and sugar, but you don't have to do it. I should probably be doing it for both of us."

He shrugged and got your coffee fixed up exactly the way you would have made it yourself, as he said, "You and I will be working in close proximity, and I feel like this is the kind of detail I should know."

"Well how do you take your coffee?" you asked, but he set down the cream and sugar without adding anything to his. "Black, no sugar."

"Black, no sugar," he confirmed before taking a sip. You watched the alluring scars on his neck as he swallowed, once again surprised that he wasn't married. He didn't seem as helpless as your father, but he seemed like the kind of person who should have someone warm at home when he returned from work each night. Someone to look after him. 

You took a sip of your own coffee and smiled, because it really was perfect, especially for something that was made on an aircraft. "Thank you."

"Any time," he responded, and you eased back in your seat and looked out the window as the Portuguese coastline came into view. You drank your coffee and picked at the muffin, watching as the very early morning sun made the Atlantic Ocean glitter. There were marinas filled with yachts and sailboats, and you wondered if Avio's was amongst them. 

"Were you on the yacht with my dad last year?" you mused as the plane dipped lower in the sky.

Bradley set his mug down, and maybe it was just you, but his features suddenly seemed a little guarded. You'd always been good at reading people, which made it easy to get a favorable response when you needed one. But he'd never looked at you this way before. "For a few days. One of my buddies from the Navy was there too. Jake Seresin."

You blinked and his expression was neutral again. "The name sounds familiar."

Bradley laughed as the plane touched down. "The face will be familiar, too. Soon enough. He's champing at the bit to get onboard for a few days here and there this summer."

You set your mug down as well and said, "Don't worry, Sir. I'll dazzle him to bits during the dinner parties."

Bradley's nostrils flared, and his pupils grew wider. "I don't doubt that."

When you laughed, he smiled before looking down at his hands. "Well, Bradley, I don't know about you, but I can't wait to get on the yacht. I wonder what kind of caviar the chef will serve for lunch."

You unbuckled your seatbelt, prompting him to do the same. "There are different kinds of caviar?" he asked, one eyebrow raised as he picked up your tote and handed it to you. 

"Don't embarrass me, Bradley. The other interns will all laugh at me behind my back."

But he just shook his head as he moved to the side and said, "After you, Ivy League." So you led the way to the front of the aircraft, thanked both pilots and Melissa, even though she clearly didn't like you, and you climbed down the stairs onto the warm tarmac. 

You shouldn't and absolutely couldn't keep reacting to Bradley the way you were, but when he placed his hand on your lower back and said, "This way," you nearly moaned. You looked up at him as he tried to guide you toward the waiting limousine. "Go climb in. I'll grab the bags."

"I can get my own bags," you insisted.

"I know you can, but you have nine hundred of them, and I'm still hungry, and I can do it faster."

"Fine," you replied, and you could feel his gaze on your back as you walked toward the driver who was holding the back door open for you. "Thank you." As you slid across the leather seat, you watched Bradley effortlessly lift multiple pieces of your luggage at the same time while you bit your lip. What the hell was it about him? You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but he was enjoyable to watch. His voice made you feel a little fuzzy. He was raw and genuine like your favorite pair of well worn Levi's which were tucked away in your Dior suitcase he was carrying with one massive hand. 

You looked away. You counted to ten. You already knew this was going to be an issue, so you weren't sure why it was hitting you now. When you glanced his way again, he was bringing his own two, nondescript pieces of luggage to the limousine trunk, and then he was sliding across the seat next to you.

"Twenty minutes to the marina from here," he murmured, his hand coming to rest on the seat next to your thigh. "And then we can get to work."

You pursed your lips. "I was under the impression we would be playing, too."

He chuckled as you started to look through the compartments next to the seat. "We can play a little bit."

You opened what turned out to be an ice chest, and ran your fingers along a bottle of chilled Dom Perignon. "We can start with this," you said, pulling it free from the ice and holding it up.

He was looking at you, not the bottle, but that little twitch of his mustache was his tell. Even though his eyes seemed stern, he held out his hand, and asked, "Think we can finish it in twenty minutes?" 

You smiled brilliantly as you handed it to him. "Don't ever ask me that again."

"Sassy," he muttered, unwrapping the foil and slowly twisting the cage loose before wiggling the cork free with his big hands until it popped. "Here you go."

"No," you insisted as the driver pulled out onto the main road. "You first. Drink to a successful summer."

Bradley nodded once and took a sip before handing you the bottle. His eyes were on your lips as you pressed them to the bottle where his had just been. "To a successful summer," he echoed, his voice a deep rumble as the city went by in a blur. You couldn't stop smiling, and neither could he, and approximately eighteen minutes later, when he helped you out of the limousine, his cheeks were flushed pink.

"Is that it?" you asked, very slowly removing your hand from his as two men rushed your way in matching gray shorts and navy polos. There was a massive yacht with Down to Business lettered across the back and Avio Technologies along the side.  

"That's it," Bradley confirmed, slipping his black sunglasses on as he reached to shake hands with the two men who introduced themselves as Antonio and Nikolai. Bradley told them your name, and they both took your hand in turn. "She's my intern for the summer," he said smoothly, and then they started to unload your luggage. 

"Let's go," you said, glancing back at Bradley as you started down toward the marina gate, and then he was right next to you again with a few long strides. "I hope you can find your Armani swim shorts quickly, because that pool is calling my name." 

"I can, actually. One of the benefits to only bringing two suitcases." He helped you over the gap, and as soon as you were on the yacht, you felt at home. You knew this was going to be the summer you needed.

"Let's go meet the captain," he murmured, his hand finding your back again. 

"Do you think he has more champagne?"

"Ivy... it's nine in the morning."

"I'm still on San Diego time."

Bradley paused for a beat while he did the math. "It's one in the morning back home."

"Exactly," you told him with a little pout that you knew wouldn't actually faze him. He just smiled as he guided you past the pool you couldn't wait to jump into and an enormous jacuzzi. You walked through a dining room that could seat twelve people and past a fully stocked bar. It was like the best offerings from your sorority house and your dad's estate all rolled into one.

"Welcome aboard!" boomed a voice with a French accent. "We've been expecting you. I'm Captain Marcell." He was probably in his sixties with gray hair and a matching beard, and he reminded you a bit of your favorite professor at UPenn.

"Pleasure," you replied, shaking his hand after Bradley told him your name.

Next to him were lined up two friendly looking women, one with short brown hair and one with long brown hair. Beatriz and Lucia, the stewardesses, would be taking care of everything you needed. And next to them was an attractive man wearing a bit of a scowl. 

"I'm Rocco. The chef. I can make anything. I don't like changing the menu at the last minute."

Oh, you liked him already as you shook his hand. And then your heart fluttered as Bradley said, "I need to speak with you about removing any cherries from the yacht before we leave the marina." 

"Cherries?" Rocco asked, scowling deeper.

Bradley glanced at you as he removed his sunglasses, and his mustache twitched. "Yes. Can't have any onboard. That applies to the kitchen and the bars. My intern has an allergy."

"I'll take care of it," Rocco replied before turning away, and you'd never been more certain that someone would take care of something in your life. Then Captain Marcell handed Bradley a folder.

"Rough itinerary. Weather report for the week. List of phone numbers. Please let me know how long you'd like to spend in each port. I can of course adjust anything as needed. Now if you will select your cabins, Antonio and Nikolai will deliver your luggage."

"Thank you," Bradley replied, handing the folder to you. "You're in charge of this. Now why don't we head down so you can choose a room?" He nodded his head toward a wide set of stairs.

You walked down to the lower deck, and once you and he were alone again, he pointed to the left. "The sooner we get settled, the sooner the swim trunks come out?" you asked softly. 

"Something like that." His soft chuckle was right behind you as you stopped at a mint green door with gold trim.

"Is this my room?" you asked, placing your hand on the doorknob. There was a little keypad next to it. 

"If you want it to be," he replied. "Or, there are three others you can choose from."

"Which one are you taking?"

His eyes flitted from your face to a spot a little further down the hallway. "White door."

When you turned to investigate, you saw a pink door directly across from that one. "Wouldn't it be easier if my room was near yours?"

"Probably." His expression was neutral, but that damn mustache was giving him away. 

"I'll take the pink one."

"Very good. I'll get the room codes from Beatriz, and I'll tell them where to deliver the luggage."

"Great," you replied, still standing close to him, but he didn't move.

"Perfect," he said, brown eyes focused on yours. The hallway was narrow, and now he was placing his hands on his trim hips, taking up even more space. "Try not to get into too much trouble while you look around."

Finally he turned toward the stairs, but you called his name right away. "Bradley?" He glanced back over his shoulder with a questioning look. "Thanks for mentioning the cherries."

"Sure," he replied easily. "I got you, Ivy." Then he was walking back up the stairs and out of sight.

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

We are about to set sail. Let's get into a little trouble. Let's have a little fun. Already feeling a little tension between Bradley and Ivy League. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[okasuka]

Damian Wayne x Y/N - school shenanigans, and punches!

Chapter 1: A New Start

Gotham Academy had always been intimidating, but stepping into the grand, ivy-covered halls for the first time, Y/N felt like a small fish in a vast, treacherous ocean. Adjusting the strap of her bag and nervously pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she scanned her schedule.

“Room 104… first period,” she murmured under her breath. The first day was always the hardest. With a deep breath, she smoothed her blazer and walked into the classroom.

The room buzzed with chatter as students filed in, already forming cliques, laughing, and throwing paper balls. Y/N slid into an empty seat near the middle, trying not to draw attention to herself.

Just as she settled in, the chair beside her creaked. She glanced sideways and froze. Damian Wayne, Gotham Academy’s enigma, had taken the seat next to hers. His green eyes flicked toward her briefly before returning to his notebook, where he began to scribble with an air of disinterest.

“Hi,” she whispered, trying to break the ice.

He didn’t look up. “Hello.”

Short, curt. She bit her lip and decided not to press further. Instead, she busied herself pulling out her sketchbook, flipping to an unfinished piece—a cityscape inspired by Gotham’s skyline.

From the corner of his eye, Damian noticed the intricate lines of her sketch. He glanced at her again, slightly intrigued, but said nothing.

Chapter 2: Confrontation

The bell rang, signaling the end of first period. Y/N packed her things quickly and slipped into the crowded hallway. She kept her head down, navigating the maze of students when she was stopped by a group of girls standing near the lockers.

“Hey, new girl,” one of them called, a smirk on her lips. Her blond ponytail swished as she stepped into Y/N’s path. “Where’d you get those glasses? The clearance bin?”

Y/N froze, clutching her sketchbook tighter. “I… I’m just trying to get to class.”

Another girl snickered. “And what’s with your hair? Is that streak supposed to be… cool or something?”

The comments stung, but Y/N forced herself to keep walking. She tried to push past them, but the first girl grabbed her arm, yanking the sketchbook from her hand.

“Hey!” Y/N protested, reaching for it. “Give that back!”

The girls laughed, flipping through the pages. “What’s this? A city? Oh, how original.”

Something inside Y/N snapped. Her boxing training kicked in, and before she could think twice, she threw a solid punch that connected squarely with the girl’s cheek. The blonde stumbled back, clutching her face as gasps erupted around them.

“What the hell?” the girl shouted, but Y/N didn’t wait to hear more. She snatched her sketchbook and bolted down the hallway, heart pounding.

Unbeknownst to her, Damian had witnessed the entire scene from the edge of the crowd. His lips curved into a faint smirk as he watched the blonde girl stagger. “Impressive,” he muttered before following Y/N at a distance.

Chapter 3: Under the Bleachers

Y/N didn’t stop running until she found herself behind the gym, hidden under the bleachers. She sank to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest as tears welled in her eyes. It wasn’t just the encounter—it was the overwhelming pressure of being the new kid, of feeling out of place in a school that seemed determined to remind her she didn’t belong.

“Hey.”

She jumped at the voice and looked up to see Damian standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, hastily wiping her eyes.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, stepping closer. “Skipping class already?”

Y/N frowned. “I wasn’t planning to. I just… needed a minute.”

Damian crouched beside her, his sharp green eyes studying her. “You handled yourself well back there.”

“You saw that?”

He nodded. “Hard not to. That punch had good form. Boxing?”

She blinked, surprised. “Yeah. My dad taught me.”

“Hmph.” He leaned back against one of the bleacher supports. “Most people would’ve just taken the insults. You didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not ‘most people,’” she said, a touch of defiance in her voice.

A small smile tugged at Damian’s lips. “Clearly.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Y/N sighed. “I’m going to be the talk of the school now, aren’t I?”

“Probably,” Damian admitted. “But who cares what they think?”

Easy for him to say, she thought. Damian Wayne, with his air of mystery and wealth, could shrug off rumors without a second thought. For her, it wasn’t so simple.

“Thanks,” she said softly. “For checking on me.”

He shrugged. “You looked like you could use the company.”

Chapter 4: Connection

By third period, word of Y/N’s confrontation had spread, but to her surprise, no one approached her about it. She suspected it had something to do with the fact that Damian Wayne was now sitting beside her, radiating an unapproachable energy that seemed to keep everyone at bay.

“So,” she said, trying to fill the silence as they worked on their group project. “Do you always scare people off, or is today special?”

Damian arched an eyebrow. “I don’t scare people. They just… know their place.”

Y/N snorted. “Right. Of course.”

He smirked. “You’re not scared of me.”

“Should I be?”

“Most people are.”

“Well,” she said, meeting his gaze, “I’m not ‘most people,’ remember?”

Damian chuckled softly, a rare sound that caught her off guard. “Touché.”

As the period went on, the tension between them eased. By the time the bell rang, they were chatting easily, exchanging stories about their hobbies—her sketches, his love of animals—and trading sarcastic remarks.

Chapter 5: An Invitation

The rest of the day passed in a blur. During fourth period, they sat apart but exchanged glances across the room. By the time the final bell rang, Y/N felt a strange mixture of relief and anticipation. She was gathering her things when Damian appeared at her side.

“Do you have plans after school?” he asked.

Y/N blinked. “Uh, not really. Why?”

He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Come over. To the manor.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re inviting me to your house?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just… unexpected.”

Damian shrugged. “You can say no if you want.”

She hesitated. Part of her wanted to decline—after all, she barely knew him—but curiosity won out. “Okay. Sure.”

Chapter 6: Wayne Manor

The ride to Wayne Manor was surreal. Damian didn’t say much during the drive, but Y/N didn’t mind. She was too busy taking in the sprawling estate as they arrived. The mansion loomed over them, an architectural marvel that looked like it belonged in a gothic fairytale.

Inside, she was greeted by Alfred, who gave her a warm smile. “Welcome, Miss. Y/N. Master Damian mentioned we’d be having a guest.”

“Uh, hi. Thank you,” she said, feeling a little out of place.

“And this is my father,” Damian said as Bruce Wayne entered the room. The billionaire’s presence was commanding, but his smile was surprisingly kind.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Bruce said, extending a hand.

“You too, Mr. Wayne,” she said, shaking it.

The rest of the evening passed in a comfortable blur. They watched a movie in the expansive living room, and somewhere along the way, Y/N fell asleep, her head resting on Damian’s shoulder. He didn’t move, letting her sleep peacefully as he gazed at the screen, a small smile playing on his lips.

Chapter 7: Waking Up

Y/N stirred, blinking groggily. She realized her head was resting against something firm. No, someone. Her eyes darted up to meet Damian’s, who was still sitting beside her, his gaze fixed on the screen.

“Oh my god,” she murmured, sitting up quickly. “I—I fell asleep. I’m so sorry.”

Damian smirked, glancing down at her. “You don’t snore. That’s a relief.”

Her face flushed. “Gee, thanks.”

“Relax,” he said. “It’s not a big deal.”

Y/N glanced around, noticing the dimmed lighting in the massive living room. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine,” Damian replied. “You were out for a while. Alfred was about to bring a blanket.”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Great. First day at a new school, and I’m already embarrassing myself.”

“You didn’t embarrass yourself,” Damian said, his tone softer now. “You had a long day. No one’s judging you.”

“Well, I am,” she muttered.

Damian’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “Suit yourself.”

As she gathered her things, Damian stood, watching her with an intensity that made her fidget. “What?” she asked, glancing at him.

“Nothing.” He turned away but added, “It’s… nice having someone around who’s not trying to impress me for once.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “Most people at Gotham Academy either hate me or want something from me. You don’t seem to care about either.”

She paused, looking up at him. “Why would I? You’re just a guy who sits next to me in class.”

His smirk returned. “Exactly.”

Chapter 8: A Growing Friendship

Over the next few weeks, Y/N and Damian fell into an unspoken routine. They sat together in first and third periods, often partnering for projects or sharing sarcastic commentary about their classmates. Between classes, Damian walked her to her locker, a silent but protective presence that deterred anyone from bothering her again.

Y/N found herself looking forward to their time together, though she wasn’t sure why. Damian could be curt and aloof, but he had a dry sense of humor that caught her off guard, and when he did open up, his insight was surprisingly thoughtful.

One day during lunch, Y/N flipped through her sketchbook, working on a new piece while Damian sat beside her, reading a book on animal behavior.

“Is that Gotham again?” he asked, nodding at her sketch.

She glanced up. “Yeah. It’s… kind of my go-to. There’s so much detail to capture.”

He studied the lines for a moment, then pointed at a corner. “You missed the gargoyle on that rooftop.”

Y/N laughed. “Oh, thanks, Mr. Perfectionist. Maybe you should draw it, then.”

Damian’s lips twitched. “I would, but …I don’t think my skills are up to your standards.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Damian Wayne, admitting he’s not perfect at something? That’s new.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “I’m perfect at plenty of things. Art just isn’t one of them.”

“Well, if you ever want to learn, I could teach you,” she said, twirling her pencil between her fingers.

“Is that so?” Damian asked, his tone teasing but curious.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied confidently. “But only if you promise not to criticize every line I make.”

“Fair enough,” he said, smirking again. “Deal.”

For a moment, they both fell into a comfortable silence. Y/N continued sketching, occasionally glancing at Damian as he read. She caught the slight furrow in his brow and the way his fingers tapped idly against the table, his mind clearly working through whatever was on the page.

“You’re really into that, huh?” she asked, breaking the silence.

He glanced up. “What, this?” He held up the book. “It’s fascinating. Animals have instincts people don’t give them credit for. They operate on a level of loyalty and survival most humans could never understand.”

“Loyalty and survival, huh?” Y/N said, tilting her head. “Sounds like you relate to them.”

Damian hesitated, then gave her a small, almost sheepish smile. “Maybe a little.”

Y/N smiled back. “I like that about you, though. You’re… different.”

“Different how?”

“Not in a bad way,” she clarified quickly. “Just… you don’t fake it. You don’t act like someone you’re not, even if it makes people uncomfortable.”

He studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Neither do you. I noticed that the first day.”

She blushed, ducking her head back to her sketchbook. “Yeah, well, I guess we’re both a little weird, huh?”

Damian’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. “Maybe.”

Chapter 9: Secrets and Trust

As weeks passed, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the layers Damian revealed in small, careful increments. He spoke of his love for animals, his frustration with the expectations placed on him at school, and even, subtly, the weight of his family name.

But Damian still held something back. There was a shadow behind his bright green eyes, a part of himself he didn’t seem ready to share. Y/N didn’t push him, but her curiosity grew stronger each day.

One afternoon, as they walked home together after school, Y/N finally worked up the courage to ask, “So, Damian… what’s it like? Living in Wayne Manor, being… you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Being me?”

“You know what I mean,” she said. “Your dad’s Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows who you are yknow?”

Damian chuckled. “it’s okay, i mean i don’t really care for labels.”

——————————————————

i hope you guys enjoyed this as much as i did !!! 😖😖😖

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Be still my foolish heart

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 10

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: swearing, angst (resolution at end), discussion about money and struggling financially, continuing sexual thoughts, MINORS DNI, sad matt (as if that needs a warning)

a/n: Sorry for the sporadic posting everyone, the past few weeks months, years have been crazy. Here is the resolution for the spicy angst in chapter 9! I hope you all enjoy.

w/c: 6k

Running your thumb over the crease you’d inadvertently made in the page, you worried your bottom lip as you tried to press it flat beneath the pad of your finger. This book was a rental and you could NOT afford to pay for it if it wasn't returned in pristine condition. Bills had been piling up this semester. In itself, being broke wasn't a new problem. Your inability to cope with said bills, however, very much was.

You'd been treading the poverty line since you'd left for Columbia. School was expensive, your mom wasn't there to buy groceries, and the company managing your gas bill had increased their rates, meaning your previous budget was worthless.  The high cost of heating, combined with the fact that your dad was once again flaking on his contributions to your mom's rising medical debt... It was adding up.

Sure, it was stressful. Money was the biggest cause of your anxiety most days, with your difficult curriculum following closely behind. But you'd been coping well enough.

Until your subconscious decided to pile more weight onto your already struggling psyche.

The image of Matt's pompous smirk hovering over you had been haunting you all week. Every time you closed your eyes, his deep rasp rumbled in your ears–praising you for your tenacity, your performance. Even days later, the thought was thrilling. And that made you feel unbelievably guilty.

Though nothing had actually happened between you and Matt, your brain was determined to brand you as an adulterer. Any time you heard from Everett, even if it was just a text, your stomach rolled with intense regret. You felt dirty and ashamed. For needing the thought of another man to get you off, for mentally cheating on Evs while being beneath him, and for exploiting your friendship with Matt by crafting this sinful image of him. 

You’d unintentionally dragged your boyfriend onto the emotional rollercoaster you were stuck on, swerving between desperate lust and distant tension without a warning. One day, you’d need to be on top of him, lips locked, and the next you couldn’t stand being within ten feet of each other. After a week of continuous flip-flopping, Everett had reached his limit, telling you sternly to figure out what you wanted before teasing him further. The brief argument only added to the embarrassment you’d been wading in. 

Sighing roughly, you pinched the bridge of your nose. Humiliation bubbled in your stomach, churning around your day-to-day anxiety. Your brain felt like it was being slapped around like a tennis ball, jumping between various reasons to spiral. You had no money. You were going to flunk out of school. You were unable to hold a relationship. You'd never be satisfied in love.

Groaning, you rubbed at your temples, the pads of your fingers flickering as your pulse pushed at them. You needed to fucking study, which seemed impossible when your brain would not shut up.

“Doin' ok there, bug?”

The familiar voice startled a shriek from you, your hands flying to grab the counter as you nearly toppled out of your seat. Wide eyes flying up from your textbook, you felt heat rush to your cheeks when you saw Foggy standing there. Foggy's brows were raised, an amused smile directed at your frazzled state.

“Jesus Christ, Fog. You're gonna give me a heart attack one day.” You grumbled, shaking off the lingering fear and smoothing your clothes in an attempt to regain your dignity.

“You sure that day isn't today?” The blond asked innocently, eyes twinkling with the jest.

Huffing, you raised the heavy text you'd been pretending to read, hiding behind it as you muttered, “Shut up.”

Foggy cackled, striding behind the counter and hopping onto a stool. “What’s so interesting? You clearly didn't hear me come in.”

“This stupid Contracts assignment.” You huffed, absently running your thumb over the corner again. “I can’t get through it and, trust me, I’ve tried.” 

“Hamer v. Sidway?” Foggy clarified. When you nodded, a sly grin slid over his face. “Well, wouldn’t you be lucky to have a certain handsome friend who has already digested that opinion! If only you were in a study group with him…” 

You shook your head as Foggy tapped chin thoughtfully, a smile breaking through your stony expression despite yourself. “Oh are we disbanding the 3 Musketeers? I wasn’t notified.” 

“You missed the public hearing.” Foggy shrugged, sighing with exaggerated weariness. “With no opposing testimony, the vote was unanimous.” 

“Mr. Nelson, you aren’t suggesting that I missed 10 days worth of public notice, are you?” You raised an eyebrow, tension rolling off your shoulders in Foggy’s presence. “Because I’d have to live under a rock to overlook those signs in my most frequented areas.” 

“Oh woe is me!” Foggy crooned mournfully. “Losing my beloved Musketeers to a default judgment.”

“Your Musketeers?” You scoffed out a laugh. 

“Well, as the founder of our little band of misfits–” Foggy puffed out his chest, barely stifling his grin as you protested incredulously. 

“Excuse you!” Crossing your arms, you forced a scowl onto your face as Foggy giggled beside you. “The 3 Musketeers of Columbia will go down in history as nothing short of a team effort. Mark my words, Franklin: if you so much as insinuate–” 

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, Foggy’s laughter was infectious. “Ok, ok! I concede. This ruse was a test of your loyalty, my fair lady. One that you’ve passed excellently, I might add.” 

“A test of my loyalty? I’m not the one trying to break up the crew, Fog.” You narrowed your eyes at him, your smile most definitely undermining your ability to look threatening.

Averting his gaze as his expression softened a bit, Foggy kicked his feet like a child on a swing, scuffing them lightly on the ground at the low point of their respective arc. “Fair enough. It just…you haven’t been around this week. Thought maybe you’d found better people to study with.” All humor had drained from his face, his brow slightly pinched with anxiety as he continued to avoid eye contact. 

Frowning in lieu of a response, you stood from your seat at the counter, snatching Foggy in a bear hug. Relievingly he chuckled, leaning into the embrace. Resting your chin on his beanie-clad head, you squeezed him tightly. ‘Listen here, Nelson. You and Matt mean too much to me for me to even consider replacing you as study group co-founders. Not to mention that 99% of the other students here don’t hold a candle to the pair of you in any respect.” 

Releasing your friend from your hold, you dragged the empty stool closer. Your shoulders brushed Foggy’s as you plopped back on top of the chair. “I promise, Fog. I’m not leaving the group.” Your voice was grave as you made the vow, the seriousness apparently escaping the man next to you who, of course, laughed. 

“Christ, bug, you make it sound like we’re a middle school band on the verge of collapse.” 

“And what if we are, Fog?” You threw a hand over your chest dramatically. “You know your heart ain’t in it anymore. And Matt’s kazoo work hasn’t been the same since the tour.” Breaking off into a forced voice crack, you chewed the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling when Foggy snorted. 

“Ok, Matt would never step foot into a room with a kazoo in it, let alone select it as his instrument of choice.” He grimaced, no doubt imagining the assault of a kazoo on his roommate’s delicate senses. 

“Well you’re lead vocals and I’m tambourine, so he doesn’t have many other options.” You explained, no longer hiding your grin as Foggy cackled. 

“I’m vocals!? Ugh, we’re DOOMED!” He groaned, running a hand over his throat as if it was sore from imaginary over-exertion. 

“Are we? I’ve heard legends of the Siren deep in the showers of Jay Hall.” You smirked as his jaw dropped.

“Oh that little–Doesn’t he know that making false promises is, like, unholy or something?” Foggy scoffed with embarrassed frustration. “I should’ve known he’d tell you. He can’t keep anything from you.”

Heat rose to your cheeks at the reference to your and Matt’s close relationship. Your brain began to spiral as you remembered the image of his smile hovering above you. 

“Hey, I'm not actually mad, bug. It’s alright.” Foggy elbowed you, studying your face. 

Nodding uneasily, you gave a weak chuckle. “I know, Fog. Sorry.” 

“Did Matt do something stupid? Is that why you haven’t been around?” Foggy asked, turning his body to face you as his concern piqued. 

“No!” You squeaked out in a rush, shaking your head furiously. “No, he didn’t do anything, Fog. I’ve just been stressed about school and my mom and stuff. I’ll make more of an effort to tell you guys when I need space, ok?” 

The long-haired man didn’t seem to fully buy the excuse, but he swiveled back towards the counter. “Mmmhmm. Sounds plausible, but you know you can always come to me if something happens, right?” 

There was clearly more to that promise than he was trying to let on, but you were too frazzled to decipher what the hidden meaning was. “Course, Fog. You too. With me, I mean.” 

Knocking his shoulder against yours, Foggy’s nose crinkled as he smiled. “I know, jitterbug. Now stop worrying over me. My ego will get too big.”

Snorting at the thought, you linked your arm with his. “I’m going to ignore the slightly insulting nickname in favor of asking you how it went with Marcia the other day.”

“Marci, not Marcia. And it was AWESOME!” Foggy squealed, face lighting up as he began recounting his evening with her the weekend before.

Homework entirely forgotten, you were enraptured as Foggy animatedly walked you through his eventful evening with his bombshell classmate. Ignoring the fact that he was certainly embellishing the story for your benefit, but he'd clearly had a good time.

Just as he began to narrate how the night eventually ended, your phone buzzed.

“Saved by the bell!” You shuddered comically, smirking when Foggy scoffed in offense. Flipping open your phone, you tried not to cackle in Jen's ear as Foggy pouted beside you. “Hey Jen, what's up?”

“Did you see the email?” Glossing over pleasantries, Jen was obviously annoyed, sparking a rush of worry in your gut.

“Um, no? What happened?” You frowned, chewing the inside of your cheek as your brain began to spiral over the numerous mistakes you could've made that would result in a pissed off roommate.

“Our building won't have heat for the rest of the month.” She grumbled, definitely rolling her eyes on the other end of the line.

“The rest of the MONTH? You're fucking kidding.” Anxiety quickly turning to shared frustration, you held up a finger when Foggy looked at you quizzically.

Your building was ancient and the baseboard heaters were probably older than you, which meant they'd stood no chance against the bitter New York weather this winter. The heat had sporadically given out over the past few months, resulting in half hearted promises from the owner about new systems being installed–so this news wasn't necessarily surprising, but that didn't mean you wanted to deal with it.

“Super wanted us to know so we could 'make the necessary arrangements'. Piece of shit.” She sulked.

“Fuck, Jen, what are we gonna do? I can't afford a space heater.” Scrubbing a hand over your face, the resilient debt-induced panic that had faded to the back of your mind reared its mangey head.

“Well, good news and bad news. Good news is Oscar's parents are willing to loan us a pair that they have in their garage so we won't need to buy or rent any.” She trailed off, clearly not excited about the latter half of the plan.

“C'mon Jen, break it to me.” You huffed, not at all willing to let her ignore the less fortunate piece of the situation. If you wanted to prevent your impending nervous breakdown for another few weeks, you'd need to act on this issue immediately.

“Wewon'tbeabletograbthemuntilaftertheconference.” She muttered in a rush.

Drawing in a breath to extend your waning patience, you asked again. “Jen, in English please.”

An uneasy groan came across the line before she clarified. “We won't be able to grab the space heaters until after the conference.”

Shit. That was bad news. Most, if not all, of Columbia's 3Ls were at the Tri-State Justice Conference in New Jersey until Friday—three days from now.

“I'm sorry, but we both need the attendance credit and—” Jen explained, sounding like she was about to cry.

“Hey, it's ok, babes. I'll figure it out. Don't worry, ok? Just enjoy the conference as much as you can and I'll find a place to stay.”

“I'm really sorry, I—” She stammered.

“I promise I'll be ok.” Your throat felt tight, your efforts to stave off a breakdown over this clearly failing. ”I'll talk to you soon.“

Hanging up the phone, you dropped your head into your hands, digging your fingers into the bridge of your nose in an attempt to collect yourself.

Hesitantly, Foggy called your name. “Everything ok?”

“Uh, not really...but when is it ever?” You chuckled bitterly, your words muffled by your palms.

Two arms wound around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug that mirrored the one you'd given Fog earlier. Your face met his sturdy shoulder, and it took every ounce of your resolve to not let yourself dissolve into tears.

“What happened, bug?” Foggy asked, holding you tightly as you inhaled shakily.

“Apparently our heat went out. Again. And, uh, I don't really know what to do, Fog.” You admitted, craning your neck to look at him. “Everett, Jen, and Oscar are all out of town and I–”

“You can stay in our room.” Foggy stated simply, as if it was the obvious solution to the problem. “We don't have much, but we DO have heat.”

“Fog, you don't have to–” You protested, but he cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“I know I don't have to, I want to! It'll be a study group sleepover!!” He rubbed a circle into your back before taking his seat once more.

And that was that. The long-haired boy had already turned back to the book he’d pulled out while you were on the phone, considering the matter resolved. Sitting there dumb founded, you stared at him for a moment, half expecting him to yell “Psych!” and leave you to sort your own shit out. But he didn’t.

“Do Frodo and Sam kinda give you a gay vibe?” He asked suddenly, jarring you out of your anxious stance.

“What?” You blinked, trying to process the jump to a completely different topic while you were still thinking about a sleepover in Matt and Foggy’s shared room.

Giving a shrug, Foggy turned the page. “I mean, they’re soulmates for sure. But sometimes it seems like Tolkien did not mean for it to be platonic, ya know?” Glancing up at you with a grin, he giggled. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“Fog,” You chuckled in exasperation, shaking your head at his unfailing positivity.

“What?” Raising the book as he threw his arms up, Foggy’s smirk made you laugh harder. “See this is precisely why you need to sleepover. Matt never finds me this funny.”

“You were serious about that?” You asked hesitantly, fisting the cuff of your sweater sleeve in one hand, toying with a loose thread along its edge.

“Uh, yah? Why?” Foggy snorted, still reading and no doubt hosting a heated internal debate over one or more hobbits’ sexualities.

“I mean..I dunno, wouldn’t that be…weird?” Heat was clawing at your face, your insecurities making you cringe sheepishly.

“Ah, I suppose I’ve neglected to consider all the facts.” Sticking a folded gum wrapper in the joint of his book, he let the cover flap shut, crossing his arms as he pondered. “You are a girl, and the latest studies suggest a correlation between your gender and high levels of 'cooties'.”

Expression utterly serious, you couldn't help but dissolve into giggles as Foggy tapped a finger on his chin in deep contemplation. “Shut up, you know what I meant.”

“I'm not sure I do. Unless you DO in fact have cooties. In which case Matt and I would need to draft a contract to distribute liability in the event that we CATCH your cooties.”

“You know what,” You laughed. “Let's all be honest about who is catching 'cooties' from who. I have fantastic hygiene, counselor.”

“You're right. It's Murdock we need to worry about.”

Looking at each other solemnly, you and Foggy broke at the same time, cackling over the ridiculous notion.

“Of course I was serious, dude!“ Foggy kicked your shin lightly as you wiped a tear from your cheek. ”Did you really think I was just going to let you freeze to death? That Matt would allow that to happen?”

“No,” You murmured, tucking the toes of your sneakers behind the legs of your stool. “I guess not.”

Mouth squishing to one side with his skepticism, Foggy leaned closer to your hunched form. “In case I am not making myself clear, let me lay it out for you, jitterbug. Neither Matt nor I would ever object to you staying over if you wanted to, let alone needed to for your own safety. We care about you and we would never jeopardize a fellow Musketeer.”

Nodding bashfully, you linked your pinkies together, dropping them into your lap. “Ok. Thanks, Fog.”

“Anytime, bug. How much longer are you chained to this counter?” He frowned at the offending furniture with distaste, laying a palm over his stomach. “I'm getting hungry.”

Rolling your eyes, you glanced at the clock behind you. “About another hour. But you are more than welcome to venture out for a meal before that. Only one of us is contractually obligated to be here.”

“NO MAN LEFT BEHIND” Foggy declared, saluting you before turning back to his book diligently.

Biting your cheek to stifle a grin, you turned back to your own homework, grateful for the two men keeping you sane as your life crumbled into chaos.

Swallowing as your throat constricted with nerves, your knuckles hovered an inch away from the nicked wooden door. Your adrenaline-soaked subconscious was buzzing, telling every cell to enter “flight” mode, but your feet felt glued to the dingy carpet.

What are you so afraid of? You chastised yourself. It's just Fog and Matt. Not like you're about to have open heart surgery or something.

Tilting your entire body forward until your knuckles brushed the surface of the door, you'd barely made a sound before it opened, revealing a confused Matt and a beaming Foggy.

Greeting you simultaneously, Matt's perplexed tone didn't match his roommate's joyful one in the slightest. “Are you ok?”

Despite being evidently baffled, Matt ushered you into the room.

“Um, yes? Why…” Looking to Foggy questioningly, you watched as the long-haired boy grimaced apologetically. “Ah, I see someone did not fill you in on the situation.”

“I forgot!” Foggy smiled sheepishly.

Exhaling with a frustrated huff, you shifted from foot to foot as the ball of nervous energy fueling you tumbled around your body. “Um, my building has no heat for the rest of the week so Foggy said I could stay here? But if that's not ok with you–” You took a small pace backwards, giving you the option to completely eject from the situation, but Matt carefully reached for your arm.

His fingers brushed over your wrist, gently clasping around your arm. At his cautious touch, the air flew out of your lungs, your eyes widening as they focused on his face. Lips turned down ever so slightly, his brow was furrowed with his classic Matt Murdock concern. Whether you'd given yourself a papercut or received news of your mother's recurrence, Matt's worry and desire to fix whatever he could was etched deeply in his expression.

“Of course that's ok, sweetheart. The heat's out again? Did they say they were going to replace the baseboards?” As he asked his follow-up questions, his free hand came up to cup your other elbow, until he was practically cradling you in his arms.

Sighing, you didn't fight him as his grip tightened, morphing into a full body embrace. Hands spread over your back, Matt's chin landed over your head like it belonged there. Anxiety fading, you shrugged against him with a bitter laugh. “Sure, but they say that every time.”

Planting a kiss against your hairline, and coincidentally reigniting the swarm of murderous butterflies in your stomach, Matt withdrew his arms and stepped aside to wave you into the room. His mouth was still curved into a frown, the wheels in his head clearly turning as you set down your backpack and hopped onto Foggy's mattress.

“Thank god you're here, bug. I desperately need someone to read through my legal writing assignment. She only drops the two lowest and I need a decent grade in this class.” Foggy rummaged through his bag, yanking out a few pages filled with illegible handwriting and margin doodles, dropping them in your lap.

With a giggle, you made a show of copying Foggy's movements, dropping the assignment back into his possession. “Yah, sorry bud but you're going to need to read that to me if you want my help.”

“Oh come on, my handwriting isn't THAT bad.” Foggy protested, squinting at the essay.

“It might not be the worst print in the world, but I'm not a grade school teacher. I'm not practiced at–” You explained, smiling innocently as Foggy grew more affronted by the accusation.

“Woah, woah, woah, GRADE school–”

“Ok, you're right, 7th grade maybe?” You shrugged, laughing as the blond shoved you in response. The two of you were grinning at each other when Matt's question burst out of him.

“Have you complained to the board of health? Or the HPD?”

Meeting Foggy's gaze, you both blinked owlishly before turning to face Matt. The dark-haired boy was staring blankly at the pair of you, his face flitting between dark concern and pure fury.

“What?” You asked, eyes drawn to Matt's fists as they flexed at his sides.

“About the heat. It's..it's not safe for your landlord to be leaving his tenants without heat. Not when it's this cold.”

“Matt, buddy,” Foggy interrupted placatingly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. ”That's why she's here, remember? Problem solved.“

“Until it goes out again next month.” Matt growled.

Squeezing Foggy's leg, you shot him a knowing look. “Matt, I'll call HPD tomorrow when they open. Promise. You can sit with me to listen, if you'd like.”

Pursing his lips, Matt considered the suggestion. With a weary exhale, he nodded, his fingers sliding out of their rigid curls. “Ok.”

“Right, well, now that we've settled that, let's listen to Foggy read his essay aloud—since neither of us will be able to look it over otherwise.”

Grumbling, Foggy flopped onto his stomach, resolutely ignoring your chuckles as he cleared his throat. “Prepare to be dazzled—”

As much as you wanted to help your friend out with his assignment, Foggy’s words flew into one ear and out the other, briefly tapping your brain like a small steel sphere on a pinball bumper. Once you'd seemingly put his mind at ease, Matt had joined the two of you on the opposite side of the room, Snuggling in close and sandwiching you between the pair of men.

On any other day, the position would be comforting. Your limbs cloaked with their combined body heat, their soothing voices overriding the anxious buzzing in your brain. Today, the invisible swarm of bees in your skull only became more enraged. You felt trapped, cornered by your friends and your own tattered feelings.

Matt's shoulder flanked yours, his body pressed in so tightly to you that the thin hairs on your cheeks and neck fluttered with his every exhale. A small vibration in your pocket pushed you over the edge. Had Everett finally responded to your apology? Was he still upset? How could you accept his forgiveness when you were practically sitting in Matt's lap?

Shifting your weight uncomfortably, you tried to keep yourself separate from Matt, digging your shoulder into the wall rather than leaning it against his chest. Another buzz from your pocket had you gritting your teeth. It was too much, it was all too much. Foggy was talking so loud and the temperature of this room was stifling and how on earth could he sleep in these sheets–they must have the thread count of a fast food napkin.

Choking in a breath, you dove off the bed. “It sounds great so far, bubs. I have to check my phone real quick, someone is calling me.” Nearly toppling over in your haste to escape the room, the door shook as it closed roughly against its frame. Shakily pulling your phone from your jeans, you opened it, trying to get your breathing under control. It was like you'd been shoved underwater with a dwindling oxygen tank–given the sudden atmospheric pressure and your inability to take a full breath.

One text was from your father, reminding you to pay the most recent medical bill. I'll get right on that. You rolled your eyes, deleting the message.

The other message was from Everett. Your body went rigid as you read his name, your finger inching towards the button that would open it up, revealing whatever he'd sent you. As the screen flashed, pixels shifting to spell out the five words he'd deemed important enough to send, your heart momentarily stopped.

Talk when I’m back.

Nothing else. No indication of how angry he was, what the talk would be about, if you would still be together in a week. Fuck.

Behind you, the door creaked open, a worried Foggy appearing from the shadows. ”Everything ok?“

”Yep!” You squeaked, snapping your phone shut with a force that made you grimace. “All good.”

Sending your friend a smile that you hoped looked more honest than it felt, you shuffled back into the room, sensing that the energy had changed. “Sorry, just Everett and my dad bothering me.”

In your absence, Matt had returned to his bed. His posture was gracefully straight, a book lying across his lap beneath his fingers. If his stance hadn't clued you into his mood, the lenses now propped on the bridge of his nose had. Something was up, but you weren't in any state to handle both of your emotions right now. Foggy gave a weak smile, hopping back onto his bed.

“Matt pointed out that you might not want to think about homework all night. I actually rented some movies on my way home! I was thinking we could watch one.”

“That sounds fun, Fog. Matt are you–”

“No.” His answer was curt, pitched low. He must've sensed your surprise because the edges of his expression immediately softened. “I have a headache. Don't want to spoil the fun.”

“I'm sorry! We probably aren't helping. Did you want us to go to the lounge?” You asked, fingers grasping for your bag in case you needed to switch locations.

“No need. I'll put my headphones on if I need to.” Matt's lips flickered with the barest hint of a smile before settling back into the neutral expression he'd originally had on.

“Let us know if you change your mind, buddy.” Foggy chirped, opening his laptop. “Ok, bug. Take your pick.”

With a wave of one hand, Foggy displayed three DVD cases as if they were a winning poker hand. “We've got: National Treasure, Happy Feet, and The Ring.”

“What an eclectic bunch.” You snorted. “Scary movie first, Nick Cage last. We'll scream, cry, and laugh in that order.”

“Genius. She's a genius!” Foggy remarked, cracking the first plastic sleeve open. “This girl is going places, Murdock.”

Matt smirked, but said nothing, his fingers still dancing over the raised dots on the pages.

Lying on his side, one ear turned out to the rest of the room, Matt's own skin prickled sympathetically as you rolled over on the grimy carpet–each plastic fiber screeching as it dragged across your skin. The sound made him cringe, far too similar to fingernails on a chalkboard.

It was late. You and Foggy had indeed made it through all three movies, only pausing to run to the bathroom and the corner market for more snacks. Matt couldn't help but feel like he was intruding, eavesdropping on a sweet moment between friends and existing where he wasn't welcome. While Foggy was glued to his computer screen, your attention was sporadic, heart rate spiking whenever he so much as shifted on his bed.

You were paying more mind to him than the entertainment you were pretending to enjoy. Which was irritatingly amusing given how little you'd wanted to do with him recently. Something deep inside him was crying out in warning, telling him just how close you were to slipping through his fingers and disappearing forever. But how could he steady his grip when every pump of his heart had you spooking like a prey animal.

The rustling of fabric from your body on the floor nettled at his conscience. Your breathing was shallow, your vocal chords emitting small aggravated groans that should've been imperceptible, if Matt was a lucky man. Inches away from his bed, you were writhing in discomfort, lying awake just as he was—unlike Foggy who was snoring away, dead to the world. That couldn't be helping your frustration, it sure wasn't doing him any favors.

The tiniest of sighs slipped through your lips, wafting the scent of salt into his space. Frowning in concern, he set aside the pity party he'd been throwing himself and swallowed his nerves.

“Can't sleep?” His voice was barely a whisper, but you startled anyway, shooting up into a seated position.

“Christ, Matt.” You chuckled feebly.

“Language.” He joked, lips curving as you laughed again.

“Forgive me, Saint Matthew. I was taken by surprise. Thought you might be that little girl from the ring coming to get me.”

“Is my voice that feminine?“ He wrinkled his nose, feeling a bubble of pride when your heartbeat began to slow, his distractions working for now.

“No, but when you're expecting a ghost, everything seems ghastly.” You shuddered.

A jumble of words sat at the tip of his tongue, an accusation he needed to make if he wanted to get any rest tonight. It was as though you were expecting it, aware you'd done something wrong. Awaiting your punishment without a word.

“You don't have to sleep on the floor, you know. My mattress won't bite.” Avoiding confrontation for as long as he could, he attempted for another quip. Unfortunately, you'd picked up on his barely concealed aggravation, if your flinch was any indication.

Huffing out a laugh, you craned your neck to face him. “I know, Matt. But I'm not going to put you out like that. You didn't even know I was coming.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your heat?” He couldn't stop himself. He needed to know. He needed to understand why you were pushing him away.

“I mean, I only found out this afternoon–”

“I could’ve helped you report them.” He explained, still thoroughly confused.

“You still can!” Your muscles creaked as your arms tightened around your shins, instinctively defending yourself from his questioning.

“You just..showed up. And I had no idea what had happened.” His voice sounded hollow, even to him.

“I figured Fog would ask you, I'm sorry.” That was truthful, but it still didn't answer anything.

“So you're still avoiding me, then.” Your breath was cut short, fingers digging into your flesh. His own body was eerily still, trying to hold the immense guilt he'd been feeling back until the conversation was over. Until he knew what he'd done.

“Matt, I'm not—”

“No? Then why does it feel like you're trying to constantly escape me?” Snapping his mouth shut before his words revealed just how hurt he really was, he forced himself to take a deep breath.

“What are you—”

“When I hugged you earlier, you went all stiff. You’re clearly upset about something on your phone, but you refuse to tell me about it. And you keep calling me 'Matt'.” His throat constricted, fists clenching around his blankets.

“That's your name–” You reasoned desperately, but your heart gave you away. He wasn't crazy. It was deliberate.

“Not to you!” He hissed. Sitting up slowly, he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to force the pain in his skull to subside. “You always..you used to call me Matty or trouble or bubs. Recently, I've just been Matt. I just..please tell me what I did so I can fix it?”

“Matt,” You sounded mournful. Defensive stance abandoned, you crept closer to his bed, falling into a sloppy heap beside him, still on the floor. “Trouble, you didn't do anything. I've been jumpy and in my head recently because of my own shit, not because of you.”

The steady thump of your pulse echoed in his ears. It didn't waver. Not once.

Blinking rapidly, Matt shoved his hands against his face again, this time to rub away the tears forming before you could see them.

Reaching one hand up, you brushed a knuckle against his rightmost calf. “I'm so sorry that I hurt you. It was not intentional. I care about you so much and I...” You trailed off, drawing in a ragged breath before speaking again. “I care about you. I always will.”

“I care about you too.” Tangling your hand with his, Matt ducked his head, feeling incredibly exposed. “You scared me.”

“I'm sorry.” There it was again. The consistent beat of your heart. Even as the patter of rain. He squeezed your fingers.

“I know.” Trailing a thumb over the back of your hand, he felt another icy current of fear in his veins. “And I’m serious about reporting your building. We can always host you but what if you get snowed in or something? If you’re stuck there with no heat..I don’t want that to happen to you, bug. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

Grabbing his bed frame with your free hand, you hauled yourself up and onto his mattress, collapsing into his open arms. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. I've already forgiven you. But I just needed you to know that it matters. That you matter.”

“Fuck, trouble. You're gonna make me cry harder than that stupid bird movie.” You laughed, the puffs of air tickling his neck as they left your lungs.

“That one did seem especially sad.” He hummed.

“Don't know why they had to rip my fuckin' heart out. Seems a little unnecessary.” You scoffed, body slowly melting against him as he rubbed circles over your back.

“Definitely unnecessary.” He agreed, loosening his grip on you. “You should get some sleep before classes tomorrow.”

He started to unwind from you, intending to take your place on the floor, but you caught his waist with your arms, tipping you both onto the mattress. “If I'm not sleeping on the floor, neither are you, bubba.”

With a single hand, you grabbed the spare blanket off the floor, moving away from him as you bundled yourself up, a happy exhale tumbling out of you as you relaxed into the cocoon. Though you seemed to have worked through whatever mental block had existed before, Matt wasn't quite convinced.

“Are you sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You wouldn't.” Was your sleepy response. “Besides, if that little bitch crawls out of Foggy's computer screen, she can take you first.”

A startled laugh escaped him and he shook his head. “Sure she can, bug. Sleep well.”

“You too, Matty.”

Taglist: @eugene-emt-roe @abbyhaslongshorts @mrs-bellingham @abucketofweird @yeonalie @spider-murdock @0ctober-writes @danzer8705 @supervoldejaygent @dorothleah @zomtart @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @silas-aeiou @rev-glut @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @yarrystyleeza @cometenthusiast @harleycao

[hederasgarden]

Hello Ivy ✨✨ so you have awoken something in me, based on this “Six and Claire relocate to a small town where he tries to adjust to domestic life and fails horribly. Claire decides she wants to set him up with you, their new neighbor, when she catches Six watching you.” He fixes the fence with his massive arms and you bring them (him) cookies to say thank you, you end of building up a friendly flirty relationship over the weeks: casual conversations about weekend plans, he comes by to give you a package that was mistakenly dropped off at their place, you give them some clothes or make up (or tampons) you thought Claire might use, they bring over some vegetables that they eventually manage to grow, Claire stays in yours for a few hours after schools if Six is out etc. Your dog really likes Six which is always telling. One night there is a ruckus, your ex is outside your place when you would really prefer he was not. Six checks on Claire and goes to see what’s up after being woken up by the noise. When he hears the man shouting your name, his protective streak is unleashed and he can feel it burning underneath his skin. He is cool calm and collected, and ready to unleash hell on anyone that threatens your safety.

BESTIE....YES!! I love this idea!

Six would be so protective over his sweet neighbor. For this wonderful ask I've written you a little snippet.

“What if he tries to run away?" You ask, looking anxiously behind Six.

"Hard to do when you're unconscious," he says dryly, ushering you back into the house with a hand on your waist. 

"Six was a total badass. Like fucking Jason Borne," Claire tells you excitedly. "Wham bam, zip-tying a guy on the front lawn."

“Claire,” Six huffs. “Language.”

She rolls her eyes at him and waves him off. “I’m basically an adult.”

“You’re 16.”

“That’s like…an adult in Europe.”

Six closes his eyes briefly, looking so put upon you nearly giggle before you realize there’s a shallow cut above his brow bleeding sluggishly. You reach up to touch his face before you can stop yourself. You expect him to back away and drop your gaze but he doesn’t, staring intently at you. In the dim light of your entryway, his blue eyes look almost gray. 

“Were you baking brownies?” Claire asks, her voice breaking the spell between you and Six. 

He steps back and you inhale, looking away. 

“Yeah, feel free to help yourself,” you tell Claire, smiling when she makes a beeline for the kitchen. 

“I’d apologize for her but….”

“I don’t mind,” you promise Six. “Come on, I have a first aid kit somewhere. The least I could do is patch you up.”

“Can I get a brownie too?” He asks, looking hopeful. 

“Depends, did you really zip tie my ex on the lawn?”

“Yes.”

“You can have two brownies,” you tell him with a grin.

[artdcnaldson]

drunken patrick telling you he loves you, and has loved you before he goes off to go pro???? i can’t i need cute fluffy patrick 😔

-🐛

GOD because he’s so !!!! He’s going to bottle things up until the worst possible moment, so of course he fucking waits until the night before you’re leaving, when it’s you and him and a few bottles of liquor that have been under your bed. He snuck in through the window even though you’re both fucking adults. Like old times.

Because you’re talking about going to school— a big one, some Ivy League or something. He can’t remember, his head’s too fuzzy. But he sees the beginnings of your bags packed in the corner, boxes labeled DORM STUFF and new towels and blankets folded so nicely. He’s taking his tennis bag and a suitcase. He doubts his parents are going to miss him. You were already complaining that you couldn’t even mention college without your mom crying.

“I miss you so much already—“ His words come out a little clumsy, running together as they fall off his tongue.

You laugh, reach forward and pet his cheek. “You’re so trashed,” you reply, and shove at his face teasingly. “You’re always such a sap when you’re drunk.”

Which is true. He gets weird and emotional, clingy and touchy and everything feels so much heavier. At that moment, he thinks he’d rather bleed out right in front of you than go on his flight tomorrow. “I’m fine,” he insists, which only makes it worse, really. “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want you to leave, I want us to stay right here, and I don’t want anything to change.” He splays out, lays his head in your lap and sighs. He could stay right there, he’d like it there.

You take a swig of your drink— cheap vodka and blue Powerade. “You’re a mess.” Your nails scratch against his scalp, he sighs contentedly.

“Yours,” he hums. “Always yours. Not gonna— I don’t want any other girls when I leave.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. He’s so fucking drunk,— he’s not going to remember in the morning. You try not to let yourself hope too much, because it’ll just let you d— “I’m serious. I really fuckin’ love you. Gonna die out there without you.”

You don’t respond. What is there to say? You’ve known him since you were twelve and suddenly he’s professing his love the night before he leaves? You just brush your nails against his scalp, smile down at him, and nod. “I’ll miss you too.”

[strawburry01]

Pinball Wizard

Summary: Soft lil one shot of you and your boyfriend Angus playing pinball

AN: Fluffy fluff and chill stuff sorry I'm all over the place, but life sometimes be life-ing for the good and the bad. I had someone over and left tumblr open and when I tell you I've never lunged across the room faster to shut a screen....

You stood over a pinball machine, brow furrowed in frustration as the ball once again slid right through the middle of the two paddles. You swore under your breath and hit glass, losing another dollar to the machine. You were waiting for your boyfriend Angus to meet you here after his exam, trying to take his mind off however he scored. Unfortunately you had not planned for him to take so long- or for you to lose so many quarters in the process. You sipped on your bottle of Coke as you leered at the machine, as if it would do anything. Angus was the one who was good at these sorts of things, and you swore he was somehow rigging it everytime. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t sort of into it though watching how serious he got when he leaned over the machine, usually crossing one leg behind the other to get optimal positioning. Ever since you convinced him to start wearing accessories like your rings and necklaces sometimes he’d become a lot more confident in his looks. He always was adjusting his coat sleeves or collar just so people noticed. You’d heard about his time before college and knew he had always been stuck around pretty pretentious people- going to one of those schools where he needed to wear the same uniform as everyone and go to mass everyday twice a day. Personally you would’ve set the place on fire, but he always lied and said he was an angel of a student, to which you would always punch his arm at. College was different, college was better. You were studying chemistry and working a few lab jobs around campus, mostly cleaning beakers and pipetting for hours on end, and he was studying history, working to become a professor eventually. He always said he wanted to teach at Yale or some other Ivy League, but you could see him being a good high school teacher. You’d broached the idea to him once when you were both high and talking about the future, but he got quiet and ended it by saying he’d never be as good as his history teacher. 

Some kid next to you shrieked, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“Hey hon,” Angus said, appearing next to you, plucking your bottle out of your hand and taking a sip. The circles under his eyes were darker and his voice was tired.

“Exam went that good huh?” you asked as you watched him finish the bottle of soda. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sighed as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, setting his head on top of ours.

“What gave it away?” he gently laughed, feeling his chest rumble under your cheek as you squeezed him back. He smelled like old weathered books and cigarette smoke. He pressed his lips to your forehead before breaking away and running a hand through his mess of curly hair. “Alright give me some quarters I need to forget that essay,” he said with a small smirk as he tried to reach into your jean jacket pocket for quarters. He grabbed a handful of coins from your pocket and spun to the pinball machine you’d been opposing for the last few rounds. 

“Good luck with that one babe,” you grumbled as you moved to the right side of the machine, leaning against the wall with your hands tucked behind the small of your back. Angus laughed looking down at the lit up board.

“We’ll see about that,” he quipped, the blinking lights of the game lighting up the features of his face. You can only watch in silence as he somehow expertly flicks the bumpers racking up 100’s, 1,000’s, eventually 1,000,000’s of points. 

“How are you so good at this?” you asked from the sidelines, shaking your head. 

“I’m good with my fingers?” he answered without missing a beat or looking away from the game, to which you responded with a gentle smack to the back of his head. He only smirked. “Hey you would know right?” he added, finally drawing his eyes to meet yours. 

“Oh shut it Tully,” you sneered as you pushed yourself off the wall to go get another Coke. Before you could get far you felt his hand wrap around your waist and pull you back. He nestled you right between himself and the machine, holding his hands over yours on the sides, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“You’re going to make me lose the game Y/N,” he mumbled into your ear, still laser focused on the game, pressing your fingers in to hit the bumpers for him. 

“What if I throw the game for you?” you threatened, hitting the bumpers with your own volition a few times before the ball reached the bottom again. Angus took the second to pinch your hip which caused you to yelp.

“I suggest you don’t try it,”. You smiled to yourself as you settled back, leaning back into his chest as you felt his arms reach out over your own to continue playing, “good girl,” he murmured into your ear as he quickly pecked your cheek as he continued to play.

The fact that this was your life now- the fact that the nerd that sat in the back of the ancient Roman civilizations class was now wrapped around you- STILL more focused on a damn pinball game than you-

“High score,” he muttered under his breath as the screen in front flashed yellow and blue. Sure enough somehow he had really just gotten the high score. 

“Good job babe,” you laughed as he flicked through the letters to spell out your name on the scoreboard.

“Couldn’t have done it without my lucky charm,” he smiled as he placed a kiss on the top of your shoulder before pushing back from the machine and stretching his arms above his head, lifting up the hem of his shirt in the process. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander down to his exposed midsection, a small bit of his tattoo peaking out, “enjoying the view?” he asked as he caught you in the act. You felt your face go red as you tried to open your mouth to defend your way out of this one, but you knew it was hopeless. 

He smirked and pulled you in by the belt loops until you were chest to chest with him, wrapping your arms behind the back of his neck. He was a strong proponent of PDA, and you for once didn’t mind it in a relationship.

“Think I can get lucky again tonight?” he said as his lips brushed yours. You pushed onto the toes of your shoes and kissed his lips, leaving him wanting more as you sunk back down. You slid your hand on top of his jeans, touching his skin under his shirt causing him to suck air in with anticipation.

“I think it’s both of us getting lucky,”.