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gretavanfleetposts · 3 years ago

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An Indecent Proposal

Author’s Note ⭐: I’ve never written anything like this before so please go easy on me. A big thanks to @obetrolncocktails and @hyperfixated-gvf for all of the advice they gave me! This was for this ask so I hope you enjoy! (Also, for the record, Frodo was hot and yes, this is relevant) (Also also, I'm tagging @greta-flanveet and @streamsofstardust because they specifically asked. So I hope this isn't a huge disappointment lol)

Edit: This now has an alternate ending here!

Content Warnings: drinking, marijuana use, swearing, sexual content (18+, minors please please do not interact)

Category: smut

Word Count: 15k (I know, it’s a novel)

You always seemed to find yourself in interesting situations when the boys were involved. This particular situation, however, took the cake. By a long shot.

It always started the same, with a bad idea that was just a little too enticing to pass up. Suffice to say, over your many years of friendship with the boys, you’d heard each throw plenty of bad ideas out into the atmosphere. And as it just so happened, many of those bad ideas stuck their landing.

Tonight’s bad idea was the product of a tequila-laden fight amongst the band members you’d grown close with over the years. The five of you were gathered around Sam’s kitchen island, watching as he made a fresh batch of margaritas that were less margarita and more just tequila with a splash of lime. Regardless, you were drinking happily, an bystander to the argument the boys were having over who the groupies wanted to fuck most in the band; not an uncommon topic when they were tipsy and feeling competitive.

“I just feel like, as the only member of the band who doesn’t resemble a character from Lord of the Rings, I’m what women want,” Danny said to the group. He had just downed his fifth drink and was feeling a bit more bold than his sober self.

Sam was prodding his cheeks with his fingertips, abandoning his task of finishing the margaritas to immerse himself fully in the argument. “Shut up, Daniel. I’m the one with the perfect bone structure.”

“First of all,” Josh began, “everyone likes the Lord of the Rings-” He was practically talking to himself at that point as the volume of the others arguing over him drowned him out.

“How is this even a question when I’m literally in the band?” Jake asked incredulously. You always admired his overconfident attitude. It was a surprisingly good look on him.

“Obviously I’m Frodo and Frodo had a lot of sex appeal. We all saw him at the top of Mount Doom…” Josh was still monologuing about Danny’s Lord of the Rings comment when Jake cut him off.

“No one wants to fuck Frodo, Josh.”

“I’m also the frontman, for god’s sake, and that’s what women really want. They want to fuck the frontman…” Josh trailed off again.

Sam’s voice cut through the noise to insult his brother. “You hardly even do anything in the band.”

“I do more than all of you, Sam.”

“I don’t know, have you guys seen my biceps lately?” Danny was now flexing where he stood at the counter.

“Oh big deal, you can lift things,” Sam said, punctuating it with an eye roll.

“I’m just saying, they don’t call me Demolition Dan for nothing.”

“Just ask y/n,” Josh suggested, pushing his way back into the conversation loudly. “I bet she’d want to fuck the frontman.”

You rolled your eyes at his attempt to get you to go to bat for him and started with a condescending tone. “I’m sure everybody wants to fuck you all an equal amount-” It was the collective groans that cut you off.

“It doesn’t even matter,” Sam interjected. “Everyone knows I’m the best in bed anyway. Once they get a taste of the Samster, there’s no going back.”

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone who calls themself ‘the Samster’ can claim to be good in bed,” Danny teased, your laugh earning daggers from Sam’s eyes.

“Well I don’t know how good Frodo was in bed but-”

“Josh, for the last time, no one wants to fuck Frodo.” Jake tried to cut him off but Josh couldn’t be deterred this time.

“But I’m definitely better than the Samster; I’ve had way more practice.”

“There is absolutely no way that is true,” Sam countered with a flat tone.

“It’s cute that you guys are acting like it isn’t obvious I’m the best in bed.” There was Jake with his cockiness again.

“I’m surprised you’ve ever set your guitar down long enough to have sex.” You loved seeing Danny go toe-to-toe with the Kiszkas. He knew how to keep up.

“Yeah, the Les Paul doesn’t count, Jacob,” Josh added.

“I’m the best and we all know it. Tell ‘em, y/n.” Jake paused and looked at you expectantly, a flirtatious look in his eye that caused Sam to snicker to himself. You and Jake had never technically had sex although the look in his eye was heavily alluding to a particular night where things did get a bit…heated.

You tried to hide any sort of reaction and stared back blankly for a moment before you were confident enough in your voice to speak. “Well, I don’t really have anything to contribute here, probably on account of the fact that I’ve never had sex with any of you. So. Not really sure I have the necessary background knowledge to weigh in here, ya know?”

It was a decent cover. It stopped Sam’s snickering, at least. “She’s right. Everyone call someone they’ve had sex with. We’re resolving this.”

He was already pulling his phone out of his pocket when Danny reached over and took it from his hand.

“Nope,” he said flatly. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Well how do you propose we resolve this then, Daniel?” His name sounded almost like an accusation.

"Easy, you just all have to sleep with the same person. Then have them tell you who's the best in bed," you chimed in.

Okay so maybe it had been your bad idea this time.

Silence fell over the four boys surrounding you as they each put a bit too much consideration into your idea.

“Oh my god, that wasn’t a real suggestion. Please don’t do that,” you added. But it was too late. There was your idea, floating around in the air. And it was about to stick it’s landing.

Sam was the first to give you a suggestive look, all but announcing his thoughts to the room.

"Not me," you clarified before him, or anyone else for that matter, had the chance to actually voice the suggestion.

“No, no, I think you’re on to something. Maybe you should volunteer.” He had a downright devilish grin on his face and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t send a tinge of heat through your stomach.

But you protested anyway. "I just said not me."

“Well we can’t exactly have sex with a random person. They’d have to sign so much shit,” Jake replied in a matter-of-fact tone as if that was obvious.

“Here’s a better idea,” you started, trying to correct the course you had just sent everyone down. “Just don’t do it?”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Sam asked with a seemingly lighthearted smile that you didn’t buy for a second.

“You’re all seriously asking me to sleep with each of you so you can determine who is the best in bed? We’re all hearing this correctly?”

It sounded ridiculous to say it out loud like that but the boys didn’t seem to notice as they glanced around at each other, somewhat hesitant at first but then growing in confidence as none of them were met with any objections.

It was Josh that spoke up to answer your question. “Yeah, I think we’re all on the same page here,” he said with an all-too nonchalant nod.

If you were being truly honest with yourself, you weren’t totally opposed to going to bed with any of them. Sure, you were friends and only friends with each of them. But there had been moments over the years where lines were tiptoed. Or, at the very least, eyed.

Like the time Sam had asked you to attend a wedding with him and pretend to be his date. He was trying to make a specific girl jealous and, being the good friend you were, you promised to really sell it. At some point in the night you got the idea to kiss him on the dance floor while she was watching over her shoulder. And so you did. You leaned up on your tiptoes, took him by the shirt collar, and planted one on him. And when you pulled back, you were surprised to see a darker look in his eyes, one that suggested he was going after the wrong girl that night. It had left you in a puddle of nerves, the way he had looked at you. But the plan worked and he eventually took the other girl home.

Or the time you and Josh got high together and fell asleep on his living room floor. Getting together with Josh and smoking and talking the night away was not an uncommon occurrence for the two of you, No. And it wasn't even uncommon for Josh to spend a good portion of the night telling you how much he loved you and how happy he was to have you in his life. But that night you were more emotional than normal, having just broken up with your boyfriend at the time, and Josh had tried to make the night extra special. He had set out pillows and blankets all over the floor and prepared a chocolate fondue pot, your favorite guilty pleasure. The two of you smoked, ate way too many chocolate-dipped strawberries, and eventually fell asleep on the pile of blankets set out on his living room floor. When you woke up the next morning, you were entangled in him, your face pressed into the crook of his neck, your leg draped over his hip, and his arms wrapped tightly around you. And for a brief moment you had tilted your chin upward to watch him sleep peacefully, clinging to you like his life depended on it. It had sent butterflies flitting about your chest.

There was also the time you were rummaging around in Danny's room looking for a necklace he had borrowed and never given back. You were busy combing through trinket boxes on his dresser when he entered the room, unaware that you were there and fresh out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel hooked dangerously low around his hips. You had quickly turned and started to apologize but your words got caught in your throat as your eyes traveled to his glistening torso and then down to the muscular lines stretching from his hips and dipping below the towel. He had been frozen in place, too, a blush creeping into his cheeks at the way you undressed him with your eyes, and by the time you regained your ability to move and speak, you found yourself in the hallway outside his room, unreasonably hot and out of breath.

And then there was the one moment in particular where lines had been practically tripped over in your eagerness to cross them. You referred to it as The Jake Incident, although you really only referred to it as that in your head because neither you nor Jake had ever brought it up after it happened. You and Jake had made it a habit to have monthly music nights where you would go thrifting for records, go back to one of your places, and drink and listen for the rest of the night. It usually ended with one of you passed out on the other's couch at 5am. That particular night, however, things had taken a turn. Maybe the music had just spoken to you. Or more likely it was the whiskey buzzing through you. Regardless, at some point in the night, his lips had found yours, drunken and feverish, and Sam had walked in on a scene of the two of you in various states of undress, making out on Jake's couch. The two of you never spoke of it. And surprisingly, neither did Sam.

But to even entertain the idea of sleeping with all of them, and just so one of them could gloat about their dick game, no less. That was beyond ridiculous.

Right?

"I mean, I’m not considering it," you started, hesitantly. And you weren't considering it.

Well, maybe you were. "But say, hypothetically, I did agree. There would have to be rules."

"Absolutely," Josh nodded in agreement.

"I'm not doing anything...weird," you continued, stumbling over the articulation of your own thoughts which were traveling faster than the alcohol would allow you to process them.

"Define weird," Jake asked, his words dripping with an air of indecency that only you could hear.

You shook your head in an attempt to organize your thoughts. "I just mean if I'm ever going to look you all in the eyes again, it can't be anything too...scandalous."

"I think the whole thing might be scandalous, baby." Jake often called you baby. In fact, they all had their little pet names for you. But you could certainly rank them based on the effect they had on you and Jake's was at the top.

"Shut up, you know what I'm trying to say." You were still trying not to give yourself away but you could tell you were failing miserably. Still, you pressed on. "Also, I couldn’t just walk into a room and have sex with each of you back to back. I would need, like, at least a week in between so I didn’t feel insanely bad about myself. And maybe a little bit of romance to make it feel believable, too."

"Well, we could each take you on a little date beforehand. That way it felt more natural and comfortable," Danny chimed in.

You nodded lightly in approval of the idea. You couldn't believe you were seriously considering it but it had its appeal, as those bad ideas usually did. Not to mention, the alcohol probably did a lot of the heavy lifting in terms of convincing you.

Still, you waited several moments before voicing your agreement, not wanting to give the boys the satisfaction of knowing how easy it was to get you to say yes.

“I cannot believe I’m saying this but…what the hell. I’ll do it.”

No one really said anything but you could see the smug smile written very clearly on Sam and Jake's faces and you could only begin to guess what they were each thinking. So you continued in an effort to ignore them and their cockiness.

“About the order; it doesn't really make a difference, I suppose, but Jake goes last." He certainly deserved to suffer a little after practically jumping you that night over a year ago and then never bringing it up again.

"Maybe I want to be the first, baby," he objected but he seemed far too amused for you to take it as a serious protest.

"Too bad, so sad," was all you said as you downed the remainder of your drink.

He laughed at the short response. Some of it was probably directed at your demeanor, too. "Spoken like a true poet"

"Sorry I'm not being very eloquent right now; it's not everyday I get such an indecent proposal."

Sam had resumed his margarita-making and the boys began refilling their drinks, preparing to hash out all of the little details.

“Okay final rule," you added as you poured yourself a fresh glass of margarita on the rocks. "Absolutely no discussing me between any of you. This is strictly about you guys, not me. So no swapping stories.”

Each of the boys nodded and soon Sam and Josh were fighting over who got to go first. You sipped on your drink and watched, again feeling like a bystander the way you had earlier in the night, but this time the winner of the argument actually had an impact on your life. And out of the corner of your eye, you caught Jake staring at you, an amused smile still stretched across his face as he casually sipped on his own drink. It started a fire in the pit of your stomach and yet, at the same time, had you wondering what you had just agreed to.

“If this ruins my friendship with all of you, I swear to god I will be so mad."

Week One: Sam

In hindsight, agreeing to let Sam go first might have been a mistake. Sure, he was silly and lighthearted most of the time. But when he got that specific glimmer in his eye, the one he had given you that day at the wedding after you kissed him, a spark of deeply intense desire laced with a hint of mischief, it left you drowning in nerves.

And it certainly wasn’t any different this time around, exacerbated by the fact that you knew what was to come at the end of the night.

At least you’d have some time to just hang out with Sam first, although doing what you weren’t sure because he insisted on keeping his date a surprise. The only information he gave you was what time he wanted you to show up at his house.

As you walked up the steps to his front door, you allowed yourself a moment, taking a deep breath in an attempt to prepare yourself for the night ahead of you. Part of you imagined opening the front door only to find a naked Sam lying on a fur rug just inside the doorway, patting the spot next to him, beckoning you to join him. The image made you laugh. That was exactly the kind of thing he would do in this situation.

Finally finding your courage, you knocked lightly on the door. Under different circumstances, you would have just waltzed right in without so much as a knock to let him know you had arrived. But for some reason that felt wrong in this situation. God, you really needed to relax.

Just then the door swung open and there was Sam standing on the other side, fully clothed, no fur rug in sight, and accessorizing with a wide grin.

"Hey there, pretty girl. Ready to fuck?"

His cold open caught you off guard and you must have had shock written all over your face because he laughed at your reaction.

“I’m just kidding, y/n. God, you really need to relax,” he said, shooting you a wink that did nothing to calm your nerves.

Yeah, you really shouldn’t have agreed to let him go first.

Sam led you into his home, taking your coat and your purse for you before taking your hand and directing you toward the kitchen. You were slightly taken aback by the state of it. Numerous ingredients were arranged on his island, along with an assortment of mixing bowls, spoons, and various other gadgets that he had clearly gone out and bought earlier that day as they sat unopened on the marble countertop.

“I thought we could have a little baking competition,” he said cheerfully, the grin he wore from earlier still resting comfortably on his face. “It’ll be like a damn romcom in here.”

Excitement replaced your anxiety as the night was beginning to feel normal. “That sounds perfect,” you said smiling back at him. And then, “I am so going to beat you, Kiszka.”

—

An hour later, you and Sam each found yourselves furiously whisking the runny contents of the pre-baked desserts you were attempting to make. The counter, which was at one point neatly organized, was now a disaster, flour and sugar and a concoction of other ingredients spilled over a good spanse of the marble.

Sam had flour on his nose and cheeks and you definitely had a floury handprint on the back of your jeans, a product of Sam’s flirtations. The Hozier album playing in the background and the cocktail you were sipping on, Sam’s own creation, made the night go down smoother. You couldn’t rule out Sam’s coquettish advances either. He had a habit of being flirty, among other things, but in a way that put you at ease.

“Here’s a question for you," you said, dipping a finger into your bowl to taste your batter. "How exactly are we going to determine whose dessert is the best? We both know we’ll each just pick our own". The boys were definitely competitive but so were you. Maybe that was part of the reason you got along with them so well. You could relate to their antics. Clearly.

“Well, I was kinda thinking mine would just be so much better that you’d have no choice but to vote for me?”

You couldn’t help but hear the double meaning in what he was saying and you wondered to yourself for a moment if he had heard it too. Of course he had heard it; he had to have. Sam may have been the goofiest of the group but he wasn’t stupid. So you decided to play along.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming it’ll be the best?” It was more of a statement than a question.

He set his whisk down and turned to look you in the eye when he responded, and his reply all but confirmed your suspicions of the double meaning behind the conversation. “Y/n, I intend for this to be the best dessert you’ve ever had.”

You paused your whisking for a moment to meet his eyes before feeling your nerves begin to bubble up inside of you again. As you felt the butterflies rise in your chest, your eyes fell back to the bowl in your hands and you grabbed a cake pan to begin pouring batter, desperately clinging to the distraction instead of Sam’s eyes.

“Well, you might have some stiff competition,” you said as you spooned the last of the mixture into the pan and hoisted yourself up onto the counter to sit and wait for the oven to inform you it was finished preheating.

He laughed at your choice of phrasing with a light “Yeah, I bet,” but went back to his own whisking.

When the oven finally beeped, he poured his own batter into a tin and placed both his and yours in the oven, setting the timer, downing the rest of his drink, and turning around to face you from where you sat on the counter opposite him.

“We have an hour,” he said as he leaned back against the opposite counter. The look on his face was almost too mischievous, even for him.

You were unable to meet his gaze, not out of fear of what you would see but out of fear of what he would because beneath the nerves and the anticipation was his best friend, possibly way too into the idea of having sex with him and each of his bandmates, two of which were his brothers no less. How could he look you in the eyes and be okay seeing that? Especially after what he had seen you and Jake doing.

His response drifted to you from across the space separating you and it was as if he had been reading your thoughts. “Ya know, it’s okay if you don’t want to do this.” He paused for a brief second before adding, “And it’s also okay if you do.”

You watched your heels as they absentmindedly kicked against the cupboards behind them. “Do you want to do this?” you asked, trying to gauge his level of enthusiasm against your own.

He took a step forward, seemingly hesitant to reach out and touch you the way he so desperately wanted to.

“Yes, y/n, I want to do this.” He took another step forward before asking, “Do you?”

When you finally met his eyes, they were overflowing with that look you had been both nervously avoiding and yet eagerly awaiting all night. And you were instantly immersed in it, in him. Again you thought about the kiss at the wedding, the kiss you had initiated, the kiss that, despite the tingling it disturbed in your stomach, did nothing to disrupt the normalcy between you and Sam. The thought of it helped you make your mind up. And so you nodded.

Slowly he closed the distance between you and settled between your legs dangling off the edge of the counter. His eyes were trying desperately to read your face as his hands traveled with hesitance to your thighs. You could feel the heat from his palms through your jeans. You knew he was testing the waters, trying to avoid scaring you off by going too fast, and slowly he moved his body closer to yours.

In spite of the tingling you now felt in your fingers and hands, you reached up to lightly grip his shirt and pulled him into you as his hold on your thighs edged upward and tightened ever so slightly. The closer his mouth got to yours, the more his breathing picked up. And you were right there with him, losing your breath at the thought of his lips touching yours.

His gaze dipped to your lips then flickered back up to your eyes as if he was making sure you were still within his reach. And when he spoke, it was barely above a whisper.

“Just say stop if you want me to stop.”

You didn’t want him to stop. No part of you did. You wanted to feel his lips on yours, wanted to feel the heat radiating off his skin into you, you wanted to know what it was like to unravel with him. So you stayed silent and instead, pulled him harder into you by your grip on his shirt. And finally his lips met yours in a slow and careful kiss.

It only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back as quickly as you had pulled him in but his breath was coming hard and fast as if he had been without air for several minutes. And if you had been able to focus on your own breathing, you would have heard the same sound coming from your lungs; as if you had each run a marathon.

He stared at you for a moment, seemingly trying to calculate his next move, before he made up his mind and leaned back in, his lips colliding with yours in a fiery heat, the likes of which you hadn’t felt in a while.

His hands moved to your hips, pulling you off the counter and into his body. His left hand stayed in its place there as his right traveled up your back, between your shoulder blades, and finally found the back of your neck, holding you close as he deepened the kiss.

His mouth was hungry against yours and it left you wanting more. You wanted to taste him, to feel every inch of him against you. You didn’t care that you were waltzing across a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. The only thing you were focused on was the way his body felt against yours.

You felt him pulling you away from the countertop as his mouth still worked against yours. Blindly he led you backwards, using one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you pressed firmly against him and the other to feel for the familiar walls that lead to his bedroom, before you finally made it to your destination.

Once inside, his fingers found the hem of your sweater and seemingly found your nerves at the same time because your hand reached for his wrist to stop him, somewhat involuntarily.

“I’m sorry, did I go too far?” he asked, voice laced with concern.

You stared up at him for a moment, breathing still heavy, and did your best to steady yourself before taking a step back to gather yourself and giving him a very matter-of-fact look as you began to strip in front of him.

You pulled your sweater over your head first then worked on your jeans, Sam’s eyes never once leaving your body. And when you were left in just your bra and panties, he approached you again, letting his eyes roam over your exposed skin instead of his hands.

It made you smile, the thought of him not wanting to be the one to push too hard, like he was waiting for you to initiate the touch. So you reached for his hand and placed it on your lace-covered breast, encouraging him to move closer and do the same with his other hand.

You had opted for a lacy, powder blue matching set that, in all honesty, felt a bit shameful to put on. After all, what were you supposed to wear to a prearranged, purely-for-research booty call with one of your best friends? Surely something sexy.

“You dressed up for me,” he breathed.

“Well, I wanted to make a good first impression," you said, hoping you weren't making too big a deal of it.

“You’re driving me crazy, pretty girl. I’d say that’s a good first impression.”

He let his fingers admire the lace, slipping two under the strap of your bra and following the elastic from your shoulder down to where it met the cup. He was enthralled.

Your hands began tugging at his shirt while his head was still spinning at the image of you wearing nothing but lingerie and standing in his bedroom, signaling for him to match your level of nakedness. And he obliged, grabbing his shirt from between his shoulder blades and pulling it up over his head, tossing it somewhere on his bedroom floor where it would be forgotten. At the same time, your fingers were working on the button and zipper of his jeans and once he had discarded his shirt, he helped you work them down to his ankles and off his legs, leaving him in a similar state of undress as you, the only article of clothing left on his body being a pair of tight boxer briefs with sharks all over them. Your giggle was stifled by his mouth once again fitting against yours.

Holding you closer to him, he turned so he was walking backward this time, until his thighs hit the foot of the bed and he sat down. His grip on your waist pulled you into his lap and you straddled him, entangling your hands in his hair and using his moan as an opportunity to push your tongue past his lips. The feeling of him growing hard beneath you, the way he tasted of tequila and lime, the way his hands worked over your skin, fingers digging in to get a better grip so as not to lose you, it all spurred you on.

His lips moved across your cheek and he began peppering your jawline and neck with open-mouthed kisses while his fingers reached down into the space between you to gently rub the pad of his thumb over your lace-covered clit. Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling and without even realizing it, your hips had begun to lift into his touch, desperate for more.

He paused his kissing but kept his finger moving as he spoke, his voice coming out breathlessly.

“Just for the record, that girl from the wedding didn’t hold a candle to you.”

It was a conscious effort to push past the sensations of his breath hot against your neck and the light teasing of his thumb to reply.

“Just take your boxers off, Sam.” It was punctuated by a light laugh that came out shaky due to your state but he did as he was told, nonetheless, and lifted his hips up, allowing you to pull his boxer briefs down. And in a moment, he had slipped two fingers around the lace separating you from him, pulled it to the side, and guided you down onto him by your hips. The moan that escaped your mouth as you felt him fill you was obscene and you would have been embarrassed by it if you weren’t so wrapped up in the feeling of him inside of you.

Pushing him back onto the bed, you used your grip in his hair as leverage to raise your hips, almost pulling off of him completely, before pushing back down on him, taking him fully to the hilt. His breath hitched in his throat at the feeling of being deeply seated within you and you could tell he was fighting to keep his eyes open as you repeated the action, slowly building into a rhythm that was agonizing and doing less to propel your forward as it was making your mouth water for more.

“I should have known you were a tease,” he practically gasped beneath you.

“Oh please, all you do is tease,” you retorted, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

He huffed an exasperated laugh, fighting to contain the groan building in his throat as you continued your almost-leisurely actions, when finally he had had enough of your teasing.

“I can’t take this anymore, y/n.” He took over then, grabbing your hips forcefully and setting a much faster pace, one that he kept up by meeting your hips with his own movements. It took the smugness right out of you as he thrusted upwards while simultaneously bringing you down on him, like he had a goal. And the way his cock was brushing perfectly against that spot deep inside of you that made your toes clench, he was sprinting toward that goal.

“Oh my god, Sam, right there,” you gasped, no longer in control of the situation, giving in to the feeling of his hips snapping up into yours.

“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” His dominant side was clearly taking over and all you could do was nod in response as you fell apart on top of him.

“Come on, beautiful, use your words,” he urged, slowing his pace while he waited for you to give him what he wanted.

“Yes, fuck, it feels so good. Just please, keep going.” Your voice did nothing to hide your desperation and that seemed to be exactly what he was looking for because soon the breath was pushed out of your throat by the force of him flipping you over onto your back and with his new position on top, he continued thrusting into you like nothing had happened.

His left hand reached down to pull your knee up and hitch it around his torso as the other frantically searched for a grip on the headboard, leverage for him to set an even more brutal pace. With each thrust, his tip grazed your g-spot deliciously and you felt your impending orgasm building within you.

And he must have been able to tell by the way your walls began contracting around him that you were close because he reached up to wrap his free hand around your throat, applying pressure to the sides with his fingertips and restricting the blood flow to your head as he whispered from above you, “That’s it, pretty girl, cum for me.”

And all at once, as if in one dizzying crescendo, your back arched off the mattress as your orgasm rocketed through your body, the oven timer beeping lost somewhere in the background. Obscenities dripped from Sam’s mouth and his eyes rolled back as he finished seconds later, slowing his pace to ride through his own orgasm before he collapsed on top of you, a panting mess.

After a moment, he rolled off of you and together, the two of you stared up at the ceiling while you each caught your breath.

“I think the cake’s done,” Sam said.

—

“Mine is way better,” you said, digging your fork into the cake you had made earlier in the night.

Sam was perched on the dining table next to where you sat in your chair, a plate of his own cake, slightly burnt compared to yours, in his hand.

“Yours isn’t even good,” Sam replied, choking down another bite of his.

“Yours is literally burnt,” you rebutted, gesturing to the dark bits on his cake.

“Yeah because it stayed in the oven for too long.”

“Well whose fault is that?”

“Um, I’d say mostly yours because I was waiting for you to orgasm.”

You rolled your eyes in his direction and continued eating your cake.

Week Two: Josh

“One down, three to go,” you thought as you stared at yourself in the mirror, getting ready to go to Josh’s place for the night. Your evening with Sam a week prior had gone different than expected. Maybe a little better than you had imagined. And in the days that followed, Sam was totally normal around you, much to your relief.

“Sometimes friends sleep with each other. No big deal.” That was what you kept telling yourself. And you had to admit, it made the thought of going to Josh’s house that night a lot less nerve-wracking. Although you anticipated the dynamic with Josh would be a little different.

You and Josh were close in a different way than could be said for you and Sam. Sure, Josh was flirty too. But Josh was also a bit more genuine with you. You knew how much you meant to him and that your friendship was no small thing to him. It was no small thing to you, either. And as you got dressed and ready for the night ahead, you silently wondered if it would feel the same as it had that morning you woke up in his arms.

When you arrived at Josh’s later that evening and you first gazed upon him as he opened the door, it was clear by the lines creasing his forehead that he was just as nervous as you were, maybe more. You wanted to reach out and touch him to soothe him. You wanted to tell him to forget the little situation you had gotten yourselves into, that the two of you would just spend a normal night together, talking and laughing and enjoying each other's company the way you usually did.

“Hey there, mama,” he said with a smile, attempting to mask what he was feeling.

You gave him a soft smile back. “Hey there, Joshy.”

It was the nickname that seemed to put him at ease as he led you through his house and into the living room.

“Please tell me we’re not watching Lord of the Rings,” you teased, trying to lighten the tension that was palpable in the room.

He laughed and smiled wide but shook his head. “No, no. Something a little more romantic, I hope.”

There were two pillows arranged on the floor on opposite sides of his coffee table. Candles adorned most of the surfaces in the room and a Fleet Foxes record spun softly in the background. A bottle of wine sat perched atop ice in a metal bucket at the end of the small table and in the center there was a bubbling pot of chocolate being warmed by an electric burner. Small plates of assorted fruits sat around it and two empty wine glasses marked the places for each of you.

“I wanted to recreate that night we spent together,” he said, gesturing to the setup with his arms wide.

You could feel the excitement bubbling up inside you. “Does that mean you have weed, too?”

He turned to smile at you. “It sure does, mama.”

—

You and Josh were about halfway through the pot of chocolate on the table, both of you considerably crossfaded given the weed and wine. It was quite the sleepy combination but you had never felt more relaxed. And you’d never felt more giggly, either.

“Who was that guy you had just broken up with the last time we did this?” Josh asked, moving from his seat on the floor to the couch as he lit up a second joint between his teeth.

You, on the other hand, opted to lie back on the floor and stare up at the ceiling as you talked. “His name was Bryan. You don’t remember him?”

“Oh I remember him,” he said with a huff, blowing smoke into the room. “That guy was so bland.”

“God, so bland,” you agreed in a fit of giggles.

You thought for a moment about that poor guy you had dated. He was nice enough but he was nothing close to what you wanted. You needed a little more adventure, a little more excitement. Better sex, at the very least.

“You guys have forever ruined everyone for me,” you continued in a more serious tone, thinking about how no one had really ever lived up to any of the boys. Nothing ever worked out because a part of you, buried deep inside you, knew that it had to be one of them.

“Is it our god-like looks or the fact that we’re in a band?” he asked in a conceited and joking manner that sent you into another bout of giggles.

“I think it was both actually. No one is quite as talented or as pretty as you four.”

You could tell he was smiling even without seeing him. “You’re not so bad yourself, mama.”

His response made you laugh. “‘Not so bad’, what a terrible compliment.”

It was his turn to fall into a fit of laughter. “I think you’re pretty, y/n. How’s that?” he asked, trying to contain his own laughter.

“Much better, Joshy.”

You could hear him take another puff of the joint in his hand before he added, in a more serious tone, “Of course I think you’re pretty. We all do.”

You lost a bit of your ease with those last few words. “We all do.” It tied your stomach in knots hearing those words come out of his mouth and to avoid giving too much of yourself away in that moment, you gave him a simple, “Well good.”

There was a beat of silence as the two of you marinated in the heat rising in the room before you finally spoke again.

“He never even made me cum.”

“Bryan?”

“Yeah.”

“Well that makes sense. He wasn’t in a band.”

You would have laughed if it weren’t for the fact that the unspoken conversation had shifted to a much more serious mood, one laced with substance-fueled desire.

“Are you going to make me cum?” There was no going back now.

“Yes.” He said it so matter-of-factly and the single word sent goosebumps across your skin. And then he added, “But I'm not going to pressure you. I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with."

“If we don’t do anything, then I’ll just have had sex with Sam and he will never let me forget that.”

He laughed at your reasoning. “I would never make you suffer that fate. He can be quite insufferable”

“Thank you.”

You laid there on the floor for another moment, letting the silence wash over you again while you found your courage. And once you did, you stood and made your way over to where he sat on the couch. He never took his eyes off you as you slowly, and carefully, moved into his lap.

He still had the joint in his hand and he brought it up to his lips to take another drag as you settled your legs over his thighs. Pressing his hand against the small of your back to hold you in place, he leaned forward to set the joint down on the ashtray sitting on the coffee table, holding the smoke in his mouth until he straightened back up. With his eyes still locked on yours, he let the smoke float out of his mouth as he zigzagged his jaw back and forth once. It was something that he often did when smoking or vaping and it never failed to drive you over the edge with lust.

He was still looking up at you with caution visible in his expression but his hands found your thighs nonetheless. Your breath shook as it escaped you and for a moment you wondered when the nerves had set in. Probably somewhere in between him promising he was going to make you cum and the position you were now in.

Using your hand on the side of his neck and your thumb under his jaw, you gently pushed his chin upward so that the back of his head rested comfortably on the back of the couch, giving him a perfect view of your face hovering close to his from your position on top of him. Despite the tinge of uncertainty in his eyes, his skin was hot to the touch and the vein protruding from his neck suggested he was exerting himself.

You rarely saw him this way. Josh was always so confident and you hated to see him unsure of his actions, waiting with baited breath for someone else to make a move. You longed to put him out of the misery he dwelled in as irresolution burned his lungs and numbed his fingertips. So carefully, you leaned in, never averting your eyes as your face pulled closer and closer to his. Finally your eyes fell to his lips as you closed the last of the distance and you could hear him hum a relieved sigh against your mouth.

The kiss was warm and inviting, just like Josh. Just like you knew it would be. It relaxed the tension in your body and you sighed in response, allowing yourself to fall into him with contentment. He took this as a sign to deepen the kiss, lifting his head up ever so slightly to catch your mouth again, this time with more fervency and intention behind the action.

Your wandering hand found his cheek as you kissed and gradually, both of your hands made their way into his hair, your fingers curling into his plush brown locks and finding a firm hold that earned the softest of moans from Josh.

It wasn’t a sound you had ever heard before and suddenly you were captivated by the thought of hearing it again, giving his hair a firmer tug in search of it. A louder moan fell from Josh’s lips that time and you could feel him growing hard beneath you, his hands beginning to roam your body.

Your head fell backward as his lips traveled from yours down your neck and across your chest, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin above your breasts. His fingers found the tie of your wrap dress and once the bow had been freed, you helped him by shirking the dress off your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground in a puddle of silky fabric.

With one hand he held you in place at the hip, allowing himself a moment to in the sight of you. He let his eyes linger for a moment over every inch of your exposed skin. It felt practically indecent and you drank it up.

As you sat back on his thighs, you took the opportunity to lift his shirt up over his head, exposing his smooth, tanned chest. You let your hands feel around as you leaned into him to connect your lips again, letting your tongue glide against his bottom lip before he opened his mouth for you. And you felt his sharp inhale as your fingertips danced down along his happy trail.

When you felt the hem of his pants, you began working on the tie as he unclasped your bra and let his mouth wander further down your chest. He kissed and sucked the sensitive skin around your left breast as he massaged your right in his hand and it took all of your focus to work on the task of removing his pants.

Finally he lifted his hips to help you slide his pants and boxers down and you stole yourself a moment to gaze down at him. Josh was nothing short of beautiful and for a second you wondered how you had even ended up here, with him like this.

You stood to remove your own bottoms, finally meeting him in a similar state of undress, and then you found your place on his lap again. Keeping your eyes fixed on his, you took him in your hand, gave him a few pumps, then lined him up at your entrance. When you finally sank down onto him, his head fell back at the feeling.

“Fuck, mama,” he breathed.

Your right hand reached up to his neck again and your left moved back into his tousled curls, practically wrapping yourself around his frame as you began to bounce on his lap. His own hands found your hips and helped guide your rhythm.

The noises falling from his lips were obscene and they spurred you on, encouraging you to move your hips faster. And soon he was matching your movements, thrusting up into you, reaching deeper inside you and making your eyes water at the sensation. He fought to keep his eyes open and fixed on you, not wanting to miss a single image of you, face flushed with pleasure from the sensation of his cock plunging deep inside of you.

The sight beneath you was one to behold, too. You'd only ever seen him like this on stage, a product of the music flowing through him. But this? Now? It was all because of you.

His head was thrown back, accentuating his neck which was covered in a sheen of sweat. At a particularly hard thrust, his mouth fell open with a gasp and his eyes rolled back into his head. He was falling apart beneath you.

But suddenly he seemed to collect himself ever so slightly, wrapping one arm around your waist and letting the other travel up your back to rest between your shoulder blades. He guided you down onto him with more force, setting a much quicker, much harsher pace.

“Fuck, Josh, yes.” The words tumbled out of your mouth and all at once you were shot close to the finish line, his name now repeatedly falling from your mouth as the first waves of pleasure began to wash through you.

“Let go for me, mama,” he encouraged with a whisper and with a few more thrusts, the wake of your orgasm crashed through you, followed soon after by his own release as he moaned your name into your neck.

You slowed the movement of your hips as you both came down from your high, before halting altogether and resting your cheek against the side of his face as you caught your breath. You could still smell the weed in his hair, still taste the wine on your own tongue. It was a dizzying concoction.

He pulled away from you again and your skin mourned the loss of his warmth but when his eyes found yours, he was wearing a smile.

“I told you I’d make you cum,” he said, sending you both into uncontrollable giggles.

Week Three: Danny

One week later, you found yourself standing in front of Danny’s front door, your hand hovering over the doorbell. Your night with Josh had felt easy, much to your surprise, but your feelings for Danny pushed a little further into the lust category than they did for the two previous boys.

Danny had planned a night of at-home wine tasting in his cozy kitchen and you were trying not to let your nerves overshadow the fun you knew the two of you would have together. But it would take a glass or two to stop your hands shaking.

Danny’s kitchen was well-adorned with plants, already giving it a ‘vineyard’ feel. But when you entered this time, he had pulled out all of the dim lighting he could to set the mood. He had even set up his record player in a small nook of the kitchen so you could listen as you drank.

He let you pick the record and for his amusement, you chose The Battle at Garden’s Gate, not exactly the quietest album for the evening but it made him chuckle nonetheless and the sound radiated through you like the warmth of the sun. His laugh always had a warming effect.

“Now, I’m no sommelier but I did read up on the basics.” He picked up one of the bottles displayed in front of you and began to uncork it.

“Oooh, how fancy,” you mused, albeit somewhat absentmindedly. Your gaze was transfixed on Danny’s bicep as he worked on the bottle, the way the muscles in his arm flexed and strained with his movements. Danny was a different type of attractive than the other boys. They were all beautiful, of course. But there was just something about Danny. Maybe it was the muscles, the way he was a downright hunk. Maybe it was his sweet demeanor. Or possibly a combination of the two. Whatever it was, it was on full display tonight and it was already driving you a little crazy.

As you watched him handle the bottle, all you could focus on was the size of his hands dwarfing the glass. And given the circumstances, you decided to let yourself get lost in him. At least for the night. But his voice cut through your imagination running wild at the thought of being beneath his hands.

“Our first wine of the night is a 2015 Bordeaux, paired with brie.” Danny handed you a glass of the red liquid and a small plate with a few pieces of cheese on it, pulling you back into the moment. You swirled the glass in your hand, the way you had seen it done on TV, and took a sip, making a face as the bitter wine traveled down your throat. Danny laughed at the reaction.

“Not good, sweetheart?”

“It’s not my favorite,” you said through your disgust but downed the rest of the glass anyway.

He poured himself a glass before taking a sip, making the same disgusted face you had made a second ago, bringing a laugh out of you now.

“2015 was a great year for wine,” he joked, his face still turned up into a grimace. Your giggling was certainly spurring him on and you were both growing more comfortable with the situation.

“But the next one,” he said as he grabbed the next bottle and displayed it to you with two hands as if he were in a restaurant, trying to upsell a patron. “This one will be magnificent.” He gave you a quick wink that had more of an effect on you than he probably intended and he began uncorking the bottle.

Again, you watched his biceps flex through his gray thermal, watched the veins protrude ever so slightly in his exposed forearms. But this time, he definitely caught you looking because he let out a low chuckle that wasn’t as lighthearted as his usual laugh.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Damn him and his sexy arms. And that little pet name, too.

He took your glass from you and filled it with a shimmering white liquid, passing it back to you along with a different assortment of cheeses.

“This one’s a chardonnay and there’s no way it can be bad.”

You didn’t so much sip as you did gulp this time around, all too aware of his eyes fixed on you. When you finally came up for a breath, he laughed. Amusement was written all over his face.

“Is it a winner?” he asked as he poured himself some.

“Oh yeah, that one is good.” When he set the bottle down, you took the initiative to pour yourself a bit more. He downed the contents of his glass and nodded contentedly, giving you a thumbs up as he swallowed, which sent another giggle through you.

Danny’s ability to be sexy and cute at the same time was unmatched in the group.

“Let’s try another red. One of these must be good.” Danny chose another bottle at random and worked the cork off, pouring it into the glass you were holding out to him. The first two wines were definitely starting to catch up to you but you didn’t mind, having decided that being tipsy wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.

As you swirled it in your hand, Danny poured himself a glass and turned the bottle, hiding the label from you.

“Do you want to guess what this one is?” he asked with a smile.

You thought back to all of the times you had seen other people taste wine, in movies and television, and brought the glass up to your nose to smell the flavors. But of course, the difference between them and you was that you had no idea what you were doing. Or what you were smelling for.

“Ah yes,” you said, as if the answer was coming to you. “I’m getting hints of….red.”

Danny laughed, throwing his head back the way he did, giving you a full view of the muscles in his neck.

You tore your eyes away before he could catch you again. “No, no, okay. This one is…” You thought back to all of the red wine names you knew, which wasn’t many. “Pinot Noir?”

“Okay I know you just guessed but I’m impressed.” He spun the bottle back around so you could see that you had guessed right and you bowed playfully in front of him before taking a sip at the same time he did, disgust washing over both of you.

When you finally swallowed and started giggling, he had to force himself not to laugh so as not to spit his out. It was endearing to watch him this way. It reminded you why you loved Danny so much.

After an hour or so had passed and several bad reds had been sipped, Danny was choking down another wine he didn’t like. He sighed to collect himself before speaking. “Okay, how about this one.” He turned to open the cupboard behind him and when he spun back around, he had a bottle of your favorite pinot grigio in his hand; a $13.99 bottle from the grocer close to your house.

“Ahhh, now this one I think I’ll like.” You smiled to yourself as he screwed the cap off (yes, it has a screw cap) and poured you a hefty glass, the way you usually did when you were drinking alone on a Friday night after work. You welcomed the flavor and let the taste wash the others out of your mouth.

He did the same as Stardust Chords began playing in the background, quickly swallowing a good portion of the glass he had poured himself.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked, setting his glass down and extending his hand to you.

“I would love to,” you replied softly, setting your glass down as well and taking his hand.

He pulled you in for a slow dance to the not-so slow song and the two of you swayed together for a moment, one of his arms wrapped around your waist as the other reached up to take your hand. His eyes were fixed on yours and there was a smile on his face. You could tell he was just happy to be there with you and you were too, despite the nerves that you felt rushing up your spine at his prolonged eye contact.

He chuckled lightly at the song picking up. “This is a terrible song to dance to.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. It really was. But you didn’t really mind.

You didn’t respond but simply nodded before looking up at him again, catching his eyes still transfixed on you. You got lost there for a moment, staring up at him. This was the closest the two of you had ever been and you could smell the cologne radiating off of him, you could smell the shampoo he had used in his hair earlier that day. It was all very Danny.

As the beginning notes to Light My Love crackled through the record player, the look in his eyes changed ever so slightly and he leaned in, connecting his lips to yours in a sweet and soft kiss.

And just as the song picked up to the lyrics ‘your mind is a stream of colors’, the kiss picked up too as Danny pushed his mouth harder against yours. Without even thinking about it, your hands reached up to grip his thermal and pull him further into you. His left hand found your waist as his right wrapped around your back and gripped your shoulder. You clung to each other like that for several moments before Danny pressed his hips into yours ever so slightly, eliciting the softest of moans from you.

He pulled back, as if he were surprised by the reaction he had managed to coax from you and you were breathless as you watched and waited for him to make another move.

He took a step back and you could tell there was hesitancy in his actions, probably at the thought of this situation playing out and finally becoming real. And for a moment you thought he was going to back out of the challenge. You certainly wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. But instead his demeanor changed and the look of caution on his face was replaced with a much darker, much more daring version of Danny. You could see it in the smirk he gave you as he held his hand out to you like he had when he’d asked you to dance with him. And just like you had earlier, you took his hand and he led you to his bedroom.

Barely inside, his mouth found yours again, this time with much more heat than before, and you reveled in the way his tongue explored your mouth. But it was over too soon and your mouth audibly mourned the loss of his when he pulled away, evoking a light chuckle from him before he moved his lips down to suck a hickey into the bit of skin exposed just above the deep neckline of your top.

Bringing his face back up to yours, he whispered a question you were pretty sure he already knew the answer to.

“Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?”

You nodded your continued consent but he shook his head in disapproval. “No, I need to hear you say it.”

If the fuse hadn’t already been lit, his assertive tone would have been the match that lit it. He was rarely ever this way but you certainly weren’t complaining.

“Yes, I’m sure.” The words escaped your mouth much more breathlessly than you had intended but the way the smirk from earlier returned to his face, turning up one corner of his mouth, told you he was satisfied with the effect he was having on you.

He gazed down at you for a moment, his lips parted and his eyes giving away some of the unspeakable thoughts he was thinking as he looked you up and down slowly, before he replied with an utterly serious tone. “Good. Take off your clothes and get on all fours.”

There was no hesitation in your actions as you did as you were told, stepping backward to strip as his eyes watched you intently, then climbing onto the bed on all fours facing the headboard. You had to admit, though, it felt a bit impersonal for Danny. Not that you really knew what he was like in bed, of course, but you knew him fairly well as a person, having been friends for quite some time. Danny was sweet; he was warm and sensual. This position didn’t feel like the Danny you knew.

So when you felt him climb onto the bed behind you, wrap his arm around your bare chest, and pull you into an upright position on your knees with your back pressed flush against his chest, it was like the wind had been knocked out of you. His right palm was splayed flat in the middle of your chest, keeping you firmly in place against him, as if he didn’t want a single inch of your skin to escape him. He must have shed his clothes while you were positioning yourself because you could feel his bare skin against yours, his hard cock pressed against your ass. The feeling made your heart race in your chest.

His left hand came up to brush the hair out of your eyes and over your shoulder as he dipped his head down to whisper tantalizingly in your ear.

“Is it okay if I use my fingers, sweetheart?”

You would have laughed incredulously at him asking so nicely if you hadn’t been so flustered. The image of his hands undoing you like the wine corks from earlier was all too enticing.

“Yes, please,” you breathed as he began kissing down your jawline to the tip of your shoulder.

You could feel him growing harder behind you and you longed to turn around and touch him. But he kept you firmly in place with a hand flat against your stomach that began to travel down, lower and lower, until he reached the spot you wanted his touch the most.

His finger slid through your folds easily as you were already dripping from the buildup to this point and using the slick, he rubbed easy circles on your clit, coaxing a deep sigh from your throat. And as he slipped one finger inside of you, your head fell back onto his shoulder with a squeaky moan that brought a devilish smile to his face.

His finger pumping in and out of you, you couldn’t help but appreciate how skilled he was with his hands, just as you had suspected, and you were quickly falling apart at his touch, evident in the way you were squirming and moaning against him.

His unoccupied hand reached up to grip the headboard as he slipped another finger in, rendering you a moaning mess as his fingers began to curl inside of you. And when you were right on the brink of falling off the ledge that you were teetering dangerously on, he removed his fingers, resulting in an audible groan from you.

He chuckled but pushed his fingers into his mouth to lick the taste of you off his skin before he grabbed your chin and turned your head to the side, pulling you into a fiery kiss.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said as he pulled back. “I’ll take care of you.”

You were practically dizzy with lust and couldn’t stop yourself from grinding back on him, desperate for some relief. Thankfully he didn’t make you wait long.

Taking himself in his hand, he eased the tip into you before placing his hand back on your stomach to steady you as he guided himself the rest of the way in. The sound that fell from your lips was downright pornographic as you felt him fill you completely.

He stayed like that for a moment, completely sheathed inside of you, waiting for you to adjust to his size. But you quickly urged him to move with a hand wrapped around his bicep that was now supporting most of his weight against the headboard.

Slowly, he dragged out of you, almost completely, before snapping his hips and slamming back into you fully. And the way his tip pressed against your sweet spot, you knew you weren’t going to last long in his arms.

He repeated his previous actions and as he thrusted back into you, his name dripped off your lips. You could tell you had ignited something within him because his pace quickened and he soon found a brutal rhythm that had you moaning with practically each thrust.

His right hand found your clit again as he fucked you relentlessly, returning back to the circles he was drawing earlier and bringing you closer to the high he had pulled you down from too soon.

Your head still rested on his shoulder as your vision started to go blurry at the edges, and your hand gripped his wrist, urging him not to stop.

“Fuck, Danny, I’m so close.” You hardly recognized your voice as the words fell from your lips.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said. And with that, you let go, being shot into a chasm of pleasure at his hands.

As you began to settle down, his hand moved from your lower half up to the back of your neck where he tangled his fist in your hair. With his hand no longer holding you against him, you fell forward slightly, catching yourself with your other hand against the headboard. Seemingly in an effort to keep you close, Danny’s fist tugged your hair harder, bringing your head back to meet his shoulder and causing your back to arch. The new position allowed him a deeper angle, every thrust now hitting that perfect spot within you and eliciting a noise from you that at any other time would probably flush your cheeks with embarrassment. But at this point you couldn’t care less. The only thing that mattered to you was the feeling of Danny deep inside you, drawing another orgasm out of you.

You found yourself quickly becoming incoherent again and you could tell he was close as his grip on your hair tightened and his thrusts grew sloppy.

"Fuck," he growled next to your ear. His breath was hot against your skin and it fueled the fire you were feeling in your stomach.

“Do you think you can come again? With me this time?” he asked, as if you had any say in the matter and his dick wasn’t going to be your undoing.

His name was all you were able to choke out as your eyes rolled backward and your second orgasm began washing through you.

“I know sweetheart, I’m right there. Finish with me.”

It was the combination of his words and his teeth subsequently sinking into the corner of your jaw that unraveled you fully for a second time within his grasp, this time with him. His breath hitched with his own release but his hips maintained their brutal pace, before finally he slowed to a halt.

In the aftermath, his comment from a few weeks earlier finally caught up with you and you laughed as he held you in his arms.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked, chuckling lightly at your post-sex reaction.

“‘Demolition Dan’, I think I just got that.”

Week Four: Jake

If your nerves were bad with Danny, it was nothing like your nerves with Jake. Everything just felt so deliberate with him. It had felt that way even before The Jake Incident.

From the moment you walked through his front door, you knew you were going to be a mess of nerves until he finally touched you. And probably even then, too. But for now, you had to at least pretend to be calm.

Jake was making dinner for you and by the smell of his house when you entered, he had already gotten started. There was even a cocktail waiting for you on the counter as he returned to the dish he was adding spices to on the stove.

“I figured a little alcohol would probably go a long way,” he jested as he threw back the remainder of his Jack and Coke.

There was a Black Keys album playing in the background and it seemed to tie the whole picture together for you. Jake, standing over the stove, cooking something delicious, his shirt unbuttoned and exposing his chest as he filled his glass with straight Jack Daniels this time. It all seemed a little too easy for him.

This man was going to be the death of you.

“Can I help you with anything?” you asked, desperate for a task to occupy your hands.

“Yeah, you can sip on your drink and look pretty,” he said, throwing a smile your way.

You laughed and rolled your eyes playfully but decided your cocktail glass was probably the only thing your shaky hands could grip at the moment. So you downed your glass and quickly poured yourself another before settling against the counter next to where he stood in front of the stove.

You watched him intently as he cooked. He was so focused, carefully spooning in ingredients already prepared next to him, adjusting the temperature of the burner with care. You admired the way his hands wrapped around spoons and knobs, the way his fingers dipped into a bowl of salt to grab a pinch. You let yourself appreciate the way his long silver necklace bounced against his bare abdomen as he moved about.

You watched him like that for a while, letting the record fill the silence as he worked and you both drank. It was peaceful and eventually you felt your nerves begin to calm, although you still must have appeared somewhat jittery because Jake seemed to take note, giving you a light chuckle that seemed to hold a bit more smugness than appreciated. You couldn’t even imagine what you had looked like when you first arrived. You didn’t want to, really.

“You know, I’m not going to jump you or anything.” His voice was reassuring and his eyes found yours, searching for proof that his words had had the desired calming effect but the glimmer of cockiness never left his eye.

“I know,” you said in a barely-audible whisper.

“Okay, good.” He turned back to the pan on the stove, stirring it to make sure it didn’t burn. "Because I'm not going to touch you until you ask me to."

"And what if I don't?" You implored as you folded your arms across your chest.

"Then so be it," was all he said. It was very matter-of-fact. But he changed the subject before you had time to question him further.

“Now, tell me how my brothers were.”

You couldn’t control your laugh as it escaped you, the nature of his question catching you off guard. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

“You never said we couldn’t swap stories with you.” He wasn’t wrong. Maybe there was a loophole there.

You chuckled again and stared up at the ceiling as you sipped your drink. “They were good, that’s all I’m saying.”

He gave you a ‘tsk’ as he shook his head. “I’d bet anything that Danny has been the best so far.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Because I’ve met you, baby.” The way that word dripped off his tongue was tantalizing to say the least.

“Isn’t it more about him than it is about me?” you questioned, trying to get a read on where this was going.

“Hardly,” was all he said, leaving you with no satisfaction.

You gave him a dissatisfied ‘hmmph’ that seemed to amuse him but as you turned away from him and your hair swung gently away from your neck, he did a double take, catching sight of something that seemed to amuse him even more.

Setting the spatula in his hand down, he turned toward you and brushed the hair off your shoulder, letting it fall behind your back, all the while careful not to touch your skin. As his fingers hovered over a spot on your skin, you knew without looking what was there: the faded remnants of the hickey Danny had left on your chest.

His lips spread into a smirk as he traced the purple bruise lightly with his eyes, laughing to himself. Even without him touching you, you could feel the goosebumps radiating from that point throughout your whole body. It was almost absurd how much of an effect he had on you.

“What’s so funny, Kiszka?” you asked, trying to hide your thoughts turning sinful.

He shook his head first before saying, “You’re so beautiful.” And then, as his hand moved to grip the counter behind you, causing him to lean in dangerously close, he added, “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond. There were certainly no words and the only thing you really wanted to do was hoist yourself up onto the counter and pull him between your legs to let him have his way with you right there in the kitchen. But at this point, you were still stunned into silence and inaction and so he pushed away from the counter and began plating pasta.

“Dinner’s ready,” he said, as if nothing had just happened.

—

Dinner went on as it normally did when the two of you hung out together. Jake talked about music and the different projects he and the guys were working on at the moment. You told stories about work and your own friends, all the while avoiding the elephant in the room.

The food he had made was delicious and the atmosphere was a complete shift from the intense flirting that had gone on right before you sat down. It almost reminded you of the night of the incident, how normal things had been before you found yourselves in a flurry of buttons being undone, zippers being unzipped, and one front door opening without anyone hearing. Like the calm before the storm.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” Jake’s voice was an intrusion but a welcome one, and you breathed in deeply, trying to clear your head and think of a convincing lie.

“I’m thinking about the fact that this is the first time you’ve ever cooked dinner for just me.” It wasn’t true; the first time he had ever cooked dinner for just you and not the boys was three years ago. You had been desperately ill for a week and you could barely get out of bed. Jake had made you stew and brought it to your bedside. It was delicious. You doubted he remembered.

“That’s not true. I made you soup when you were sick that one time.” So he did remember. Which probably meant he saw through your lie too. “And that’s not what you were thinking about.”

He knew you too well.

“Then why don’t you tell me what I was thinking about,” you challenged, beginning to feel a bit braver thanks to the liquid courage hitting you.

He set his fork down and sat back in his chair, his air of cockiness never once evading him as his eyes watched yours closely. “You were thinking about that night, weren’t you?”

Your daring attitude wavered a bit and for your own sake, you decided to play dumb. “I’ve experienced a lot of nights, you’re going to have to be more specific.” You wiped your mouth with your napkin and then finally when you set it down, you met his gaze, trying to make a point with your actions.

“Maybe I should jog your memory for you.”

To your surprise, Jake stood up out of his chair and slowly made his way around the table, coming to a stop behind your chair. When he leaned down and rested his palms on the table on either side of you, you could feel his breath on your neck and you could smell the scent of the cologne cascading off his skin.

“I believe it started with a particular White Stripes record and a bit too much whiskey,” he reminisced in your ear. “You were wearing that little dress you have, the one with the flowers all over it that drives me crazy.”

Your breathing had certainly picked up but you tried to hide it as he continued. “I had already been thinking about you all day and then finally I got the courage to make a move. You had your tongue in my mouth within seconds and I couldn’t fucking wait to have you screaming my name. But then my idiot brother walked in.”

You felt the tip of his nose graze your hair ever so slightly but he kept his promise and didn’t touch you. It was agonizing. Even worse, he could clearly see your agony written all over you because he leaned in closer to whisper in your ear, “All you have to do is ask, baby.”

But he didn’t wait for you to respond, drawing out your agony and instead reaching down in front of you and taking your plate, carrying it to the sink and again acting as if nothing had happened. Your eyes watered from frustration and quickly you stood from your seat, turning to face him.

“Do you have something to say?” he asked in an arrogant tone, a tone that almost made you want to grab your coat and purse and leave. But your mind was clouded by need, a need that only he could fill. And he was arrogant because he knew it.

“You are such a goddamn tease, you know that? You’re worse than your brothers.” You were practically fuming as you approached him.

“If I remember correctly, you’re the one that has been pretending for the last year and a half that nothing happened between us,” he argued back.

“I’m the one? You never even said a word about it!” How were you supposed to know it wasn’t just a drunken mistake on his part? Something he immediately regretted the moment he realized what he was doing?

“Oh I think I‘ve made myself pretty clear about my feelings for you since then.” His frustration was now beginning to match your own.

“Yeah and maybe you just forgot to share that information with me, Jake.”

“Then ask me,” he said, his tone harsh and his eyes dark. But he was met with silence as you just stood there staring at him, breathing heavier from the anger that had seeped into your demeanor.

He let out an exasperated sigh at your silence. “Y/N, ask me,” he said again, this time more desperation in his voice than frustration. And it undid you.

“Fuck,” you whispered, sighing to yourself. You could no longer deny that you so desperately wanted to finish what had been started that night that Sam had walked in. You wanted every part of him and you were tired of pretending you didn’t.

It came after another moment of silence but when you finally spoke, your tone matched his. Desperate. “Just touch me, Jake.”

He wasted no time crossing the distance between you and crashing his lips against yours, pushing you back against the wall in the process. Your hands cupped his face as you lost yourself in the way he tasted on your tongue and the way he felt on your skin.

Quickly he pulled you away from the wall, never letting your lips leave his as he walked you backward toward the table where you had just dined together, using his free hand to reach up the bottom of your dress and pull your panties down as you walked.

When the back of your thighs hit the table, he bent down and hooked his hands under the underside of your knees, lifting you onto the table as his tongue continued to explore your mouth the same way it had that night a year and a half ago.

Your hands found the button on his jeans and undid it quickly, working the zipper after and tugging the material down past his hips. You began working on his remaining shirt buttons then, which wasn’t many, but he pushed you back onto the table before you could get very far.

You could tell he was hard by the outline in his boxers and you didn’t want to waste any more time. He was staring down at you, taking in the sight of you splayed out on the table in front of him while his hands massaged the insides of your thighs. You were aching for him and you lifted your hips slightly, desperately trying to hurry him along.

“Jake, please,” you whined.

“So impatient,” he chuckled in response.

Instead of climbing onto the table with you, he dropped to his knees, using his grip on your thighs to pull you to the edge of the table. You could feel his breath on the inside of your thigh as he hooked your calves over his shoulders but you stopped him by reaching your hand into his hair.

“No please, I just want to feel you, Jake,” you practically begged.

Per your wishes, he rose back up to his feet and reached for your hand, pulling you into a sitting position on the table. “Are you sure, baby? I want to make you feel good.”

“You already do, Jake,” you breathed and with that he pulled you into a searing kiss as he pulled his boxers down, freeing himself. And without much warning, he adjusted your leg to allow himself a better angle and pushed himself into you with an audible moan.

His eyes fell shut and he leaned in to press his forehead against yours as he reveled in the way you felt around him, staying still for a moment and allowing you time to adjust. But when his eyes opened, they had a darker appearance, and he began to move, drawing out almost entirely before filling you back up with a more forceful thrust. This time you both moaned.

With his right hand still cradling your calf, keeping it situated up around his hip, and his left hand gripping the adjacent edge of the table, his hips fell into a steady rhythm, one that had you moaning with each thrust. You clung to him with an arm wrapped around his shoulders and a hand tangled in his hair, bringing his mouth back to yours.

You couldn’t control the gasp that escaped you as his cock found your sensitive spot when he lifted your leg a bit higher. With the slight change in position, he was hitting that spot with every thrust now and your moans grew louder and louder.

You tried to savor it, the way he stretched you, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, the strength of his hands and fingers as they dug into your skin, the way he moaned at the grip you had in his hair, the way his face contorted into a look of focus you were used to seeing only when he was working the Les Paul. You were afraid after it ended you’d never feel it all again, especially now that you had participated in this little challenge.

He continued pounding into you, adjusting his grip on the table so he could lean further into you. You had to tighten your hold on him to keep from falling back onto the table but you let your head fall back, exposing his neck to you as you let out a deep moan.

“You feel so fucking good,” Jake breathed hot against your neck, sweat beading at his temples at the exertion.

Every thrust dorve you closer and closer to your peak and you were becoming incoherent beneath his touch.

“Don’t stop, Jake, I’m so close,” you breathed, urging him to keep up his pace despite the fact that you could tell he was beginning to lose his grip on composure himself.

“Yeah? Are you going to cum for me, baby?” he whispered, his words pushing you closer to the top.

“Yes, Jake. Fuck, you’re going to make me cum.” It took all of your effort to lift your head and speak as he continued thrusting into you.

His brows knit together in intense concentration and for a brief moment his eyes shut tight as a quiet “fuck” slipped from his lips.

Seeing him in that state was what sent you over the edge and your head fell back again as you came. You would have fallen out of his hands, too, if he hadn’t had such a strong grip on you. He continued his movements as he came hard inside you, his own head falling into your chest as he rode out his waves of pleasure.

As he stilled inside of you, he let his forehead lean against yours again, but this time all you felt was a rush of anxiety and emotion at the thought of having ruined things.

He noticed the change in your breathing as you struggled to hold back tears and he pulled away with a look of concern.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, baby? Did I do something?” He moved his hands to cup your cheeks, trying to soothe you with his touch.

“This was a mistake,” you choked out, then quickly continued, “If I had just let you go first, we could have bypassed all the others and then I wouldn’t have gone and ruined this, us, before it ever even started.” You were rambling frantically at that point and he caught your hands flailing in the air and pressed them together between his palms.

“You didn’t ruin anything, y/n. We all agreed to it. I’m not mad at how this turned out.” He gave you a reassuring smile before adding, “Although I will be mad if you say Danny was the best.”

You laughed and buried your face in his chest as he held onto you tightly.

“And I’m assuming I’d be the first you’ve had sex with twice?” he asked in a lighthearted manner as he rubbed your back.

“Right,” you confirmed, the sound muffled by his chest.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet,” he said, picking you up off the table and carrying you to his bedroom.

—

It had been a week since your night with Jake and since then, the two of you had spent almost every night together, in secret of course. But tonight you were all meeting at Sam’s for the final verdict so once again you found yourself standing at Sam’s kitchen island, the boys taking their usual spots around. Tonight’s drink, however, sangria instead of margaritas, Danny’s special recipe.

As you stood at the island, working on your buzz to calm your nerves, Jake’s eyes frequently found yours, a smug smile teasing at the corner of his lips. But finally it was time for the ruling as Sam lifted his glass and said, with a grandiose tone, “Well, we all know why we’re here.”

“Right, well, you all did great…” you started, as if you were about to hand out participation trophies, stroking everyone’s ego and no one’s ego at the same time, and the introduction earned a ‘boo’ from Sam.

“Okay, okay, sorry.” You weren’t exactly sure how to just come out and say it, not having pictured the awkwardness of this moment to the fullest extent, so you decided to just blurt it out. “Since there’s really no way to segue into this, I’ll just say it.” You paused for a moment before, trying to gather your bravery one last time. “Jake is the best in bed.”

“Well that’s just not fair, he got to her with his guitar fingers,” Sam immediately protested.

“Actually he didn’t, if you must know,” you clarified.

“I want to try again.” Sam continued on with his distaste for the outcome before Jake jumped in, seemingly taking possession of what was his.

“That’s not happening.”

“Okay but who came in second?” Danny asked and although you knew it was him, you weren’t willing to give that away. Not just for Jake’s sake, either.

“Nope, that wasn’t part of the deal,” you countered.

“Some people just have no taste for the finer things in life…” Josh was busy rambling to himself, as he usually did.

And with that, the original argument was struck up between the four boys again. You couldn’t help but laugh at their ability to argue. Loudly.

Later in the night, after the conversation had moved on naturally, you escaped to the bathroom for a brief moment. You stood at the sink staring at yourself in the mirror as you absentmindedly let cold water cascade over your hands in the sink.

“Who was second?” Jake appeared in the doorway behind you.

You smiled to yourself in the mirror for a moment before drying your hands and turning to face him.

“I’ll never tell”

A/N: If you want justice for Danny, go read the alternate ending!

#gvf smut #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #jake kiszka smut #josh kiska smut #danny wagner smut #sam kiszka smut #jake kiszka fic #josh kiszka fic #danny wagner fic #sam kiszka fic

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angelasscribbles · 2 years ago

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Savage Love Chapter 27: After Party

Series: Savage Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: NSFW (ish)

Warnings: Tiny bit of lemons in this one and as always, adult themes and language

Word Count: 2,790

My other stuff: Master List.

The Boedecker Foundation had rented out a local nightclub for the after-party for all the entertainers and staff involved with the charity.

There was a buffet, an open bar, and a dance floor. By the time the guys started filtering in, the girls and I had eaten and I was dirty dancing with Olivia.

We spotted Leo and Liam watching us from the side of the dance floor at the same time.

“Leo!” Olivia squealed in a very un-Olivia-like way as she waved them over.

I giggled. She really was in love.

Leo barely looked at me as he said hello, his eyes locked on Olivia with so much fire I could feel the heat, “That was hot as hell but don’t be trying to move in on my woman, double oh seven!”

“Shut up, Leo!” I laughed as I released her into his arms.

Liam was right behind him.

“Hey, Detroit,” I grinned at him as I crooked my finger, “Come dance with me!”

He took Olivia’s place, gripping me tight against him as our bodies swayed together.

His hands glided down my body to grip me at the hips. With a confident smile, he pulled my lower body even closer, using his hands to move my hips in time with his own.

I slid my hands under his shirt and ran them up his back, fingers digging into the warm flesh of his shoulders as I watched the hunger play across his face.

He lowered his mouth to my ear so I could hear him over the music and said, “I want you to mark me again.”

Holy God, I swear the temperature in the club climbed about a hundred degrees. A tremor of desire ran through my body. I lowered my head and bit into his shoulder as we continued to move together on the dance floor.

“Fuck!” He shuddered as his hands moved up to my back, smooth fingers gliding gently across the exposed skin of my back.

I felt Drake’s eyes on us.

I lifted my head and made direct eye contact with him as Liam’s lips brushed fire along my neck.

The combination of Liam’s lips on me and the intensity of Drake’s gaze damn near brought me to completion right there on the dance floor.

I pulled my hands out of Liam’s shirt and beckoned Drake over. I spun in Liam’s arms and reached for Drake.

Liam was pressed up against me from behind as Drake stepped into my embrace. Liam’s hands were on my shoulders as Drake’s found my hips. I pulled him in closer as a techno beat spilled out of the speakers.

We moved together, me turning from time to time, facing one then the other, sometimes sandwiched so tightly between the two that I could feel both erections pressed firmly against me.

The music ended and I pushed away from both of them, “Sorry, boys, but I need a break!”

Seriously. Or I needed one of them to take care of things.

But we were in public.

And Liam was a highly recognizable figure.

And a homicidal maniac was looking for me.

So yeah, better not to draw attention to ourselves.

I pulled my heels off as we made our way to the VIP lounge. We found the rest of our group and took a seat on an oversized plush leather couch. Savannah, Bertrand, Leo, and Olivia were all on the couch across from us.

On the other side of the room, Max was making out with the blond from the green room. I remembered her, she was the magician’s assistant.

Looks like she’d recovered well from being sawed in half.

Even though there was plenty of room on the couch, neither one of them was giving me any.

“Would you like something to drink, Riley?” Liam asked, “I’d be happy to get it for you.”

“Have you eaten?” Drake asked.

“Yes, I’ve eaten but drinks sound great!”

“What would you like? Champagne? Red wine? A mixed drink, perhaps?” Liam signaled a waitress.

“I was thinking a margarita…….. you know what? Tequila shots!”

“Hell yes!” Drake nodded approvingly, “I mean, it’s not whiskey but it’ll do.”

“Tequila shots it is!” Liam asked the waitress for a bottle of their best tequila and seven shot glasses.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Drake poured the drinks and I held my shot glass up, “To Squid Whiskey!”

“To Squid Whiskey!” Everyone echoed.

We threw the drinks back and Drake poured again.

“Ok, ok, ok!” I held up my hand as Drake passed out the drinks, “Let’s play never have I ever.”

“Shit, I usually lose that one,” Drake replied.

“Oh, I’ll go first!” Olivia giggled.

“How much have you already had?” I asked her.

“Pfftt,” She waved her hand at me, “Not that much!”

“Okay….”

Olivia looked meaningfully between Drake, Liam, and me and said, “Never have I ever dated two people at the same time!”

“Fuck you,” I told her as I took the drink.

Drake, Leo, and Savannah drank.

“Really?” Bertrand raised an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged, “It was college. My turn! Never have I ever had sex with a prince.”

“God damn it!” I shook my head as Liv and I drank.

“Your turn, Bert!” Savannah elbowed him.

“Fine.” He thought for a moment then said, “Never have I ever used a salad fork in place of my dinner fork.”

Leo stared at him in astonishment, “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! Of course, I haven’t! I know my cutlery!”

“No,” Leo shook his head, “That’s not the part I meant…never mind,” He threw his drink back.

We all did.

“Drake, your turn,” I told him.

Making direct eye contact with Bertrand, he said, “Never have I ever dated a friend’s sister and not bothered to tell him.”

“Wha-? I…” Bertrand glanced around at everyone then sighed as he took his first drink of the night.

“Goddamn it!” Leo said before tossing back another drink. He slammed his glass down as he made eye contact with Drake, “Don’t worry, it wasn’t your sister!”

“College, am I right?” Savannah smirked.

“You are right!” Leo laughed.

“Okay, my turn!” I said gleefully. Revenge is a dish best served cold, “Never have I ever been a Cordonian citizen.”

A cacophony of voices broke out all around me.

“That’s fucking cold, Riley!”

“What the hell?”

“This feels like cheating!”

“It’s fair!” I smirked, “Drink up, all of you!”

Everyone drank except Leo. Instead, he stood and reached his hand out for Liv’s, “Sorry guys, but I’m out. I have to get home and back to work tomorrow. I can’t get falling down drunk.

Olivia let him pull her out of her seat, “We really should be getting back to Rud’s, it’s getting late.”

“Right behind you!” Savannah agreed.

Bertrand jumped to his feet and helped her up then slid his eyes to the last place we’d seen Max.

He was missing, so was the blond.

“He can find his own way back,” Leo said, “I’m sure he’ll be on the plane tomorrow.”

“Right. Of course,” Bertrand agreed then he glanced hesitantly at Drake, “I’ll be right behind you guys, you go ahead.”

He waited for Savannah to follow Leo and Liv toward the exit then turned to Drake, “Listen. I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped some boundaries of our friendship, but I have nothing but respect for your sister. I see a real future with her, I’m not some guy that’s going to take her for granted or use her for sex. I hope you know me better than that.”

Drake pulled himself out of his seat and regarded Bertrand for a few seconds before extending his hand, “I do know that. Sorry, it’s just that she’s my sister! I can be a little overprotective, but she is capable of making her own decisions and as far as boyfriends go, she could certainly do worse than you.”

Bertrand and Drake did that quick lean in from the top, one hand clasped in a handshake, the other crossing over the other man’s shoulder to pat him on the back thing and broke apart quickly.

I shook my head as I made eye contact with Liam. The shit that passed for male bonding.

“Should we go with them?” I asked. It was getting late and we were all flying back in the morning.

“Nah,” Liam replied, “We came in separate cars anyway. Whichever one they don’t take back, we will.”

Drake resumed his seat, his arm went around my shoulder.

Liam’s hand was resting on my leg.

My plan to torture them by showing up in a jaw dropping dress had backfired on me. Gloriously.

They might be feeling tortured, but so was I.

Maybe it was the tequila, but I was done skirting the edges of propriety.

I turned toward Liam and grabbed him by the back of his head, tugging him forward for a kiss.

I leaned into it too. He moaned as his grip tightened on my thigh.

About the time his hand started to move upward, I pulled back and pushed him away.

I spun away from him and grabbed Drake the same way. Rinse and repeat.

When I pulled away from Drake, I stood up and turned to face them both, “I’m leaving now. I’m going to need one or both of you to come home with me. And no, I don’t just mean back to your grandfather’s, Liam. I mean I’m done with the two of you toying with my libido. Let’s go!”

“Wait…what?” Shock was etched on Liam’s face as he tried to process that through the alcohol.

Drake was already on his feet, “That was a clear invitation and I’m taking it!” He twined his arm around my waist and pulled me toward the exit.

“Not without me you aren’t!” Liam caught up with us before we hit the door, his arm went around my shoulders.

“You go, girl!” Some random woman yelled at me as we stumbled past.

“Wait! Is that-“

Without any communication, we released each other and bolted for the car.

Guardsmen melted out of nowhere to block the door after we exited and keep anyone from following us.

“Shit!” Liam laughed, “No, I’m not me!”

“Hurry! Hurry!” Drake yelled, “Liam has groupies!”

We collapsed into the seat of the limo, breathless with laughter.

Liam leaned over and pushed the button to raise the partition as Drake pulled the door closed behind us.

I ended up wedged between the two of them. I wasn’t complaining about it.

I felt Liam’s hand on my thigh at about the same time Drake’s arm went around my shoulders, turning me toward him and crashing his lips against mine. I twisted my body so that my torso was facing him a bit more. I really wanted to pull myself into his lap, straddle him and just go to town. But I didn’t want Liam to stop touching me, so I entwined one hand in Drake’s hair to encourage the kissing, and dropped my other hand to Liam’s, guiding it upwards.

“Don’t stop anything that you’re doing, but hold on one minute, I’ll be right back,” I told Drake breathlessly as I pulled away.

I spun my body toward Liam, switching what I’d just been doing. Now I had one hand tangled in Liam’s hair while the other reached behind me and landed on Drake’s thigh. Liam wasted no time capturing my lips with his own while both of his hands cupped my face.

Drake moved over and pressed the front of his body into the back of mine, his hands exploring freely as his lips brushed fire down the side of my neck. I broke the kiss with Liam and leaned my head back, resting it on Drake and tilting it to the side so he could continue to lavish my neck with hot, wet kisses. I moved my hand from Drake’s thigh and reached back over my shoulder to sink my fingers into his hair.

The hand that had been tangled in Liam’s hair traveled down his face to his shoulder, then trailed down his arm.

Liam was hesitant, uncertain as his eyes flicked from my face to Drake.

“It’s ok.” I told him, “We can stop if you’re not comfortable with this.”

Drake had both hands curved around my breasts; his lips stilled but he didn’t draw his head away from my neck. His voice was low and husky when he said, “I’ll stop if you want to, but I’d really like to see where this is heading. I’m good with whatever happens.”

I cocked an eyebrow at Liam. It was up to him. I was ready to keep going, Drake was ready to keep going but as Leo had pointed out, Liam was a bit more….innocent than Drake. Had he ever participated in a threesome before? Was it something that he was even ok with, or was he more vanilla than that?

A look passed through Liam’s eyes, desire mixed with trepidation, “I want to. I’m just not sure how…..”

I couldn’t help the lascivious grin that broke out across my face. Inexperience was not an obstacle. The willingness to try something new coupled with his obvious desire gave me plenty to work with.

“Drake,” I murmured as I released his hair, “move your hands.”

“To where?”

“Anywhere, just, give me a minute here.”

His hands moved down to my hips then slid around to glide up the inside of each thigh.

I bit into my bottom lip as a little moan escaped me.

It took effort at that point to focus on anything other than the trajectory of his fingers as they made their way steadily upward, but I did it.

Because I’m stubborn and have an iron will when I want to.

I reached for Liam’s hands and guided them to my breasts where Drake’s hands had just been.

Liam’s eyes went over my shoulder again. I touched his face, “Don’t look at him, focus on me.”

There was fire in his eyes when they met mine.

“Now kiss me,” I told him.

Liam’s lips were on mine as Drake’s teeth scraped gently down the back of my neck.

A million little electric shocks jolted through me as I luxuriated in the feel of their touch on my body.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Drake as he discovered my lack of panties.

I inadvertently broke the kiss with Liam as a gasp was drawn out of me by Drake’s fingers gliding and twirling at my core.

I reached for Liam, my fingers digging into his shoulders as our eyes met.

It was Drake’s fingers pushing me toward the edge, but it was Liam’s face I was looking into when the orgasm ripped through my body, so it was his name that fell from my lips.

Liam’s eyes were wide as he watched my face, “Shit,” he breathed out as I leaned into him and laid my head on his shoulder while the aftershocks pulsed through me.

When I released Liam, I spun in the seat and climbed onto Drake’s lap, straddling him like I’d wanted to do in the first place.

Good deeds should be rewarded.

I ground myself into him as I brought my lips to his.

His fingers dug into my hips, his body thrust up into mine and a low moan spilled from his throat.

The limo stopped.

I pulled my lips off his.

“Fuck!” His head thumped back against the leather seat.

I drew away and slid off his lap.

I grinned at Liam as I tugged the bottom of my dress down and back into place, “What you say we take this inside?”

“I say let’s go!” He replied.

Drake already had the door open.

Thankfully Rud had gone to bed. We made it up the stairs and through the halls without running into anyone.

Liam stopped in the middle of the upstairs hallway. I ran smack into him, then Drake ran smack into me.

“Why are we stopping?” Drake growled.

I giggled at his frustration.

Listen. What can I say? In the moment, it amused me.

Liam’s gaze swung from my face to Drakes, “Uh….what are we…where are we going?”

“I don’t care,” Drake had his hands on me again, “I’m going to whichever room she is. Hers, mine, yours, doesn’t matter.”

“My room has a double bed.” I supplied.

“Mine too,” Drake mumbled against my neck.

Liam nodded, “Mine has a king.”

“Guess that settles that. Lead the way!” I told him.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Liam smiled nervously as he pushed the door to his room open and ushered us inside.

#savage love #angelasscibbles #trr poly #agent riley brooks #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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controloffandoms · 3 years ago

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Karen’s Guide to Dating and Marrying a Firefighter with a Kid

Would anyone be interested in this? Like...It would be tied to my Chimney’s Guide to Dating a Buckley by Howard Han...like right around the same time...and it’s honestly so different as I’ve sat down to start putting it in words...like - let me just show you:

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Okay, Buck, Chimney and I talked and we decided you needed a little help. It’s been two years and you still haven’t gotten your shit together, so it’s time for me to step in. You know I love you, Buck…but how long is it going to take you to admit your feelings for a certain firefighter?

(That firefighter is Eddie, if I’m not being clear enough.)

Buck, you run into burning buildings and perform dangerous stunts for a living! Certainly admitting your feelings to a dark haired, golden beauty like Eddie shouldn’t be as anxiety evoking as that! (I’m allowed to say that…Hen said she told you and Chim that Eddie was an attractive man and she likes women…so give me a break).

Maybe I’m starting this all wrong…let me start over.

Evan Buckley, my favorite wine buddy, we need to get your priorities straight - and by straight, I mean we need to let your gigantic, caring, bisexual heart out of its cage. (Yes, Hen has given me plenty of evidence to make my case.) Chimney let it spill (with copious amounts of tequila) that he was going quite out of his mind that you and Eddie couldn’t get your heads out of your asses…so I’m here to hopefully shove you in the right direction.

So, I hope you’ll take this gift seriously. Maybe you don’t believe me right now - and that’s okay - but I hope you’ll at least read this all the way through and make your decision then. So go ahead, sit back and relax and let me lay it all out for you.

I. Realizing your feelings

When I met you, I didn’t know what to make of you at first.

Don’t take that the wrong way! Upon our first meeting, Hen had filled me in on working with Probie Buck and I honestly couldn’t wait to meet you. Between the laughter and the bemoaning, I felt like I just had to finally meet you. I can tell you I wasn’t expecting to meet a 6’2’’ cocky blonde and that I didn’t expect you to hit on me, but that made the getting to know you period more fun.

What is my point here, you may ask yourself…my point is that first impressions aren’t always the correct impression of someone. Take our first meeting for example. After meeting you, I didn’t know how you’d made it a month into working at the station (and I mean that in the nicest way possible) but after getting to know you more…you’re like the little brother I never knew I wanted.

If I hadn’t taken the time to get to know you, I wouldn’t have ever gotten to know just how big your heart is.

#chimney's guide to dating a buckley by howard han #karen's guide to dating and marrying a firefighter with a kid #buddie #henren #madney #evan buckley #eddie diaz #hen wilson #karen wilson #maddie buckley #chimney han #howie han #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz x evan buckley

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homeahoy · 2 years ago

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Tongue Twister

Brothel AU

Thanks to @fergusfraserapologist for the idea

Warnings: Smut, Oral Sex,

Pairing: Y/N (female) x Pat Riley , Eve Mansour x David Stirling (background)

Eve Mansour stared at her friend. Had she just said what she thought she did? NO! it couldn’t be true. She had never had an orgasm? How was that even possible in this day and age. “Really? Never?” Eve had asked, almost scandalised. Y/N had blushed and admitted “No, not by a man and before you ask, which I know you will, not even with a toy either”. "Well that needs to be fixed and straight away” Eve has stated. As she spoke and look came over her face. A look that told Y/N that she was thinking hard about something and Y/N knew that meant trouble. Probing Y/N asked “What are you up to? I know you're thinking about how you can make this happen.” Eve grinned in a conspiring fashion before answering “Well I have an idea but only if your game. I know a guy who is able to make anyone and I mean anyone come with his tongue alone.” Knowing there was a but, there was always a but. “What’s the catch Eve ? “ y/n asked.

“ Well it involves a trip to a brothel” Seeing you give her the are you fucking serious face she added. “Come on, don't be uptight, you're always saying you need to be more adventurous and it’s not as seedy as you think. I mean i’ve been plenty of times” A wink accompanying the last remark.

With Eve's encouragement and a shot of dutch courage in the form of tequila you found yourself outside a nondescript townhouse in the posh part of town. Eve had called ahead and made the arrangement, not just for you but for herself at the same time but her service was somewhat different. When she had come off the phone and announced it was all arranged she tried to put your mind at ease a bit and informed you the man you would be meeting was called Patrick, Pat for short. She herself would be meeting with some guy called David, a guy who liked to be punished for being bratty, he sounded perfect for Eve you had silently thought. So with that you had found yourself staring at the black door with a large golden knocker and a CCTV camera pointing down at the doorstep. Sensing your nerves Eve linked elbows with you and ushered you to the door. She was determined to make sure you knew what it was like to orgasm by any means necessary. “Here goes,” She said a bit too enthusiastically as she knocked the knocker.

The door was opened by two terrifying men who, if it wasn’t for their scowling looks, would have been handsome. Surveying you and Eve, a flicker of recognition passed over one of their faces when they saw Eve, they opened the door further and let you both enter. You stepped into a hallway which was lavishly decorated by someone who clearly had taste and knew not to stray into tacky which was a talent in itself. You were then shown into a waiting room of sorts. There were comfortable chairs around the room, with small tables with magazines and what looked like menus on them. There was also a desk where a rather eccentric man with a box tie sat and who had looked at you with a welcoming smile as you entered. “Ah Ladies Welcome, am Dudley, May I take your names and your coats, which can be retrieved on your exit and we will get your arrangements started.” Eve told the man both your names as you pulled off your coat, which you promptly handed over. This Dudley deposited your coats in a closet off the waiting room and then rounded the desk to take a seat and began to check your names on a tablet that sat on the desk. “Ah yes. Miss Mansour has an appointment with our David. He is already waiting impatiently for you in room six. I believe you know the way there, if you would like to go ahead.” he Said to Eve, which and with not so much as a backwards glance she shot off. You stood there with a nervous smile “ And you Miss Y/L/N an appointment with Pat, am guessing this is your first time?” he said surveying you and spotting your rather nervous manner. You nodded dumbly. “ Not to worry dear Pat is a very talented young man and unlike many of our other boys, extremely nice and polite, you’ll be in good hands” You were sure there was a smirk playing on his lips like he wanted to add something on but chose not to.

“He is waiting in room eight I will show you the way, if you would like to follow me” Dudley said as he took a few long strides across the room, you having to hurry to catch up with him. You were taken up two flights of stairs, which were thankfully not steep which would have been a nightmare in your heels. Stopping at the door with the number eight on it, Dudley turned and smiled at you, “In you go then” he said before disappearing off. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you reached out and opened the door and walked inside.

The room was bathed in a warm low light, it was decorated in soft beiges which made it welcoming and cosy. So far everything had been in stark contrast to what you had been expecting, tacky furnishings and lurid wallpaper and beds with questionable sheets. This was clearly a high end place with rules, rules that Eve had briefly explained on the ride over here. The other thing you weren’t expecting was the incredibly handsome man that was standing inside the room. Tall, with dark eyes and perfectly coiffed jet black hair. If you looked up tall, dark and handsome you were sure it would have just been this man’s picture. Nervously you gave a stupid little wave you immediately regretted and said “Hi” . Giving you a bright smile in return he said “Hello there” in an accent that made you weak at the knees. He was American, from where you couldn’t pinpoint, your only experience with accent’s were the ones you had seen on t.v. Breezing past you he closed the door and turned to face you. “So shall we begin”.

You turned to face him, your bottom lip caught between your teeth, so you nodded. Walking towards you and standing mere inches from you he reached out a hand, swiped a thumb over your mouth, releasing your lip from where it was caught between your teeth and said “Am going to need you to be able to tell me yes and hopefully more.” When he touched you, you felt like you could have come there and then. Yes it was all an act but damn he was good. He made you feel like he really wanted you and in your mind this would make this whole thing a lot easier. Rather than you laying on your back with someone who made it clear that this was purely transactional and had their head between your legs. No, this was so much better. Looking up you said “ I think I can manage that” Leaning close to your ear he whispered “Good to hear”.

Taking your hand he led you to the bed and gently eased you down onto it so you were sitting down on the edge. Placing a knee on your right side he leaned over you and placed a gentle kiss against your lips, with you readily returned. Gently pushing you backwards till you were laying down and he was leaning over you. Eventually after a while he broke the kiss to give you a grin, standing up in front of you he parted your legs and placed a hand on either knee and ran his hands upwards, pushing the skirt of your dress upwards until it was bunched up around your waist and exposing your lace underwear. As he did this you silently thanked the stars that you had chosen to wear your good underwear and it matched for a change. You also felt yourself getting wet at his touch alone and he had barely even started. Lowering himself down onto his knees between your legs, he then reached up and hooked his fingers in the band of your panties and pulled them down and off. He then began to place little butterfly kisses up the inside of your legs ghosting over where you were rapidly needing him most. “Such a good girl for me” He uttered against your leg before placing another kiss. Working up your left inner thigh, his hand hooked under your knee, he placed a kiss in the place where your leg joined your body, right next to your bare pussy. It made you let out a small needy moan. You could feel him smile against your leg as he said “Don’t worry darling you’ll get what you need soon”

Hook his other hand under your right knee he pushed your knees slightly upwards which exposed you to him more, he then ran his hands down and wrapped his arms around your legs to hold you in place while his head dipped down. Pat placed a kiss on your aching core before licking a strip through your folds. The feeling had you reeling, this felt different that anytime you had done this before with any of the boyfriends you had, had. Maybe it was something to do with the fact this was someone who actually looked like he enjoyed doing this and would spend the time making sure you came instead of skipping to their own enjoyment. Pat began to eat you out like his life depended on it and if there was anything that could have made this man any sexier it was this. His tongue was doing things and reaching places that you had no idea was even possible. You were a panting mess under his touch. You could feel that burning coiling feeling begin in your stomach and knew you were close. You couldn’t quite believe it, you had never gotten this far before. Half the time it had well just felt wet and frankly unpleasant.

Eve had lied when she said she knew a guy who could make you come from his tongue alone. You were glad she had talked you into this. Pat kept going, alternating between running his tongue through your folds and sucking on your clit. Occasionally he fucked into your using his tongue. God it felt so good. You let out more moans and he kept going. It was when he sucked harshly against your clit again that you felt that coil snap and you fell off the edge. Keening you arced you back as you came. “FUCK, YES, THERE, OH GOD” You screamed as you came. Your body jerks at the feeling. You were pretty sure that it was normal to come this hard. Panting you brought your hands up to run them over your face in disbelief. You had actually orgasmed, finally and it was amazing. Pulling away from your core and placing gently kisses to your shaking thighs Pat said “Was that good baby girl” Fuck was he trying to make you come again, on his words alone. “More than good” you say your hands are still covering your face as you try to calm your breathing. Finally you drop them by your side and he stands up and looks down at you on the bed. “Would you like to go again?” he asks. “I don’t think I could take it” You fully admit. “Well maybe you’d like to visit again and we can add other things that will make you scream like that again, over and over” he said. You could do nothing but nod in the moment. Oh you would definitely be coming again, in more ways than one.

Retrieving your underwear with Pat’s help you put it back on. Before you left the room, you shared one last kiss for the evening. You then made your way down stairs and back into the waiting room to retrieve your coat and settle your bill. Right there and then you made another appointment and this time you definitely caught the smirk on Dudley’s face. Before you exited you called a cab and shot Eve a text telling her you were on your way home and thanking her for letting her talk you into this. This might have been your first visit to the smooth talking American but it wouldn’t be the last.

#sas au #sas: rogue heroes #based on tv series #smut #sas rogue heroes smut #pat riley

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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years ago

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ʙɪɢɢᴇsᴛ ғᴇᴀʀs

_________________________

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: (ANON) Heyyya I saw that you were taking requests! I love your writing and could I maybe get a fic where the reader is slightly new to the avengers and they’re at one of Tony’s parties and someone tells the entire team how she’s always felt that no one could lover her and somehow Bucky reveals his feelings for her and it maybe ends in smut or fluff? Thank you 💗

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Smut 18+, Bucky gets upset and it’s kinda hot ;), insecure!reader, fluff

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Thank you for the request darling! I tweaked it a bit but i think i did alright… Anyhoo enjoy!!

_______________________

“Quite the party, Tones. Really one up yourself tonight didn’t you?” Nat said after everyone cleaned up. It was around one in the morning, Everyone that Tony invited to yet another extravagant party had finally left. Leaving you and the rest of the team for a small little after party, as per usual according to Nat.

You joined the Avengers not long ago and you had yet to be invited to one of Tony's parties. This was the first of many to come and boy, did those fantasies get fulfilled. Guests dressed to the nines occupied every corner of the room, it was almost too crowded for your taste.

But now here you were settled on the couch with the rest of your teammates laughing and giggling about stupid things that happened during the party.

“Hey, you had fun,” Tony pointed sternly at Nat, who simply shrugged with a devilish smirk.

“So what now? Because I don’t know about you guys but I am not tired at all,” Clint groaned.

“Truth or dare?” Nat said.

“What?”

“Truth. Or. Dare,” she repeated.

“Dare,” he challenged.

“Lift Thor’s hammer,” she mocked, considering the last they all tried it no one succeed and a robot crashed their party.

“Alright,” he grunted, standing up.

“Tony, got any robots that wanna kill you this time?” He laughed.

“I don’t think so,” Tony looked around, making everyone laugh.

“What happened last time?” you whispered to Bucky.

“I have no idea, I was in hiding after I almost killed my best friend,” he whispered back.

“I’m so sorry,” you had a shocked look on your face.

“It’s ok, doll. We’re all fine and dandy now,” he winked, making you feel flustered.

Bucky had the one you felt most friendly with. Nat too but you usually spent most of your time with him. He was just so nice to you and not to mention how incredibly charming and handsome he is.

“Had enough?” Nat said.

“Bitch,” Clint grumbled before sitting down after having failed yet again to lift Thor’s hammer.

“Who’s next!”

You guys went back and forth giving dares to everyone, from making Steve and Bucky have a beer chugging contest, to asking Vision if he had a dick, you know being a robot at all, to you taking three shots of tequila with no chase, ultimately failing and almost dying.

“Ok, we’re doing too many dares; I’m running out of ideas,” Nat laughed.

“Y/n, truth or dare.”

“Truth, I guess,” you said.

“What’s… your biggest fear?” a collection of ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ah’s’ echoed.

“Oh, well uh… clowns,” you chuckled, not really wanting to reveal you real fear; you felt it was kinda stupid.

“Clowns? Bitch, please. What is it for real?” Nat scooted to you.

“Um… well, uh-”

You took a deep breath.

“Being unlovable,” you whispered.

“What? We love you, Y/n. You’re family now; we all love you,” Steve spoke up.

“Yeah we love you,” everyone chimed in.

“I know it’s stupid,” you said, shaking it off.

“It’s not stupid if it’s your biggest fear,” Nat said rubbing your back.

“I guess what I mean is… You know that love where you just think about that person and your palms get sweaty, you start feeling hot, your stomach kind of erupts into butterflies. And it's just because you thought about them. You see their smile and you want to smile too. You see them laugh and it's music to your ears; and all you can think about for the rest of the day is how you can make that person laugh again. And when you touch them, your fingertips start to tingle. Your body turns cold and then they leave and then your body turns really hot and you get super sweaty. That kind of love is so intimate between you and that person. I've never had that and I'm terrified that I never will.”

Everyone looked at you with their full attention. They never really thought about it because they’ve all loved someone. Steve felt that way about Peggy, Tony with Pepper, Nat and Bruce felt that way with each other, Thor had Jane, Clint was married and had a family, Wanda and Vision. It was just you Sam and Bucky and it was obvious you three had never been in love like that.

“How can you say that?” Bucky broke the silence.

“What?”

“How can you be afraid you’ll never be loved? Y/n, any man, woman, anybody would be the luckiest person alive to call you there’s. You are so special and unlike anybody I’ve ever met. I see you smile and it’s like a work of art. Your laugh is the most precious thing I’ve ever heard. Everytime you touch me I can’t help but wish…,” he paused, remembering there were other people around.

“You’re perfect and anyone who can’t see that is goddamn fucking idiot,” he huffed. Bucky didn’t give anyone time to process what he said before he left the room to his own.

“I think I’m done… for the night,” you whispered walking out.

“Yeah good night guys,” Nat followed you out.

Everyone scattered and went to their rooms, tension still in the air. You went to your room and thought about Bucky’s words. It felt like there was something between you two but it was exactly clarified. You changed into sleepwear and decided to talk to Bucky real quick before bed.

“Buck?” you softly knocked on his door.

“Hey,” he said, awkwardly opening the door.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course,” he opened the door wider and closed the door behind you.

“I thought about what you said, tonight.”

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to upset you or make you uncomfortable,” he scratched his neck.

“I’m not upset.”

There was a moment of silence between you.

“Y/n,” he spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“I like you,” he said bluntly.

“So when I heard you say you didn’t know if you were unlovable I got kinda upset because well,” he trailed off.

“Really?” you asked, smiling softly.

“Yeah, I get it if you don’t-”

“No! I do, I do. I like you,” you laughed. Bucky breathed out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He walked closer to you until he stood toe to toe with you. Your stomach fluttered like you wished it would for so long before . You felt hot and resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he cupped your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” you responded.

You melted ainst Bucky when his lips touched yours. You felt unsteady and reached forward to holding his waist, smaller than you originally thought. He walked slowly forward until your knees buckled and you sat on the bed.

You fell back and pulled on top of you making Bucky’s hips settle between your legs. His rough hands felt gentle moving slowly up your body under your shirt. His hands brushed the curve of your breasts making you gasped lightly.

Bucky lips traced your jaw line and you moved your head back giving him room to nip at your neck. Your hands instinctively went to hair and you moaned softly at Bucky's lips on your neck.

You slightly pushed him off of your body and lifted his shirt. Bucky lifted his arms not without a chuckled and discarded to the floor. You moaned at the sight of his muscular torso, your nails lightly scratching him make his abs tighten under your fingertips.

You practically tore your own shirt off before throwing yourself to him kissing him hard. He laughed wrapping his arms around your bare torso bracing himself from falling on the floor with his feet.

“You’re so handsome, Bucky,” you giggled.

“And you’re so gorgeous,” he responded.

You both rid of your bottoms and you laid back for Bucky to hover over you. His eyes were lustful, nearly black, as he stared hungrily into your own. Your skin raised, chills running down your spine. Bucky kissed you as he lined himself with your entrance.

Up until this moment you hadn’t realized how wet you were, arousal practically oozing from you onto your thighs. You peeked in between your bodies and was taken back by his impressive size.

“Is it gonna fit?” you looked up at him.

“Of course. But if not, well there are plenty of ways to give my girl pleasure.”

“Your girl?” you smirked.

“Hell yeah, doll. I didn’t almost reveal that I’ve been waiting to get my hands on your delicious body for nothing.”

“You’re too funny,” you kissed his nose.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his face softening.

“Yeah.”

He pushed himself in sliding easily from your slick. You closed your eyes and moaned as did Bucky, throwing his head back slightly from pleasure.

“You feel fucking amazing, baby,” he groaned.

You just moaned feeling incredibly full. You squeezed his shoulders allowing him permission to move and he resisted thrusting animalistically because you felt so velvety. You felt so warm and perfect; like you made for him and him for you.

“Fuck, Bucky. Harder please. Fuck me hard.”

“You sure honey?” he questioned not wanting to hurt you.

“Yes, please!”

He grabbed your hands and brought them over your head thrusting into like a maniac. Your back arched causing Bucky to hit an entirely new angle making you moan louder.

“God you sound so fucking pretty. Those precious little sounds from me fucking you stupid,” he whispered lowly in your ear.

“Fuuck!” you drew out. Your legs wrapped around Bucky pulling him closer chasing your orgasm.

“Look at that, baby. Look how your pussy’s taking me,” Bucky grunted.

You looked down to see the lewd image of Bucky going and out of you repeatedly. It was so eroctic however, and you moaned before finally feeling the tightened coil in the pit of your stomach burst.

Your back arched once again and your arms wrapped around Bucky’s neck after he let go reaching his own high too. You both moaned before settling in silence; your body trembled under him and Bucky breathed heavily into your shoulder.

“Fuck, that was unbelievable, doll,” Bucky laughed.

“Yeah, man. You’ve got a good dick,” you smirked.

“If you let me, I want to take you out. On a real date,” Bucky said.

“I’d love that,” you smiled.

You two fell asleep that night and woke up in each other's arms. Bucky took out to breakfast, then lunch, and then dinner. You guys didn’t like the food at the restaurant too much so you used Tony’s card that you snuck out and went to McDonald’s dressed highly inappropriately, better dressed for Tony’s party than this.

Nonetheless, it was perfect and that fear you had long disappeared for everyday bucky made sure you knew he loved you. And of course you did the same.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #james buchanan barnes smut #james buchanan barnes #marvel smut #bucky fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader

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eureka-its-zico · 4 years ago

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Damage

Request: You meet JB in a bar and have a one-night stand

A/N: My friend has asked me for JB fics none stop. I haven’t been able to finish one, because I get stuck in my head and think everything is trash. I think this one is okay, at best. I’ve edited as much as my eyes can stand. Either way, she seemed to enjoy it. I hope you all enjoy it in some way too. Much Love, Jenn

p.s. It’s named Damage because I literally had the song of the same name from H.E.R playing on repeat the entire time.

Jaebum X Reader

Genre: SmUt

Words:5534

Warnings: semi-public sex, rough play, some ass-slaping - you get the picture -

There was a time that the idea of sleeping with a complete stranger from a bar would’ve never crossed your mind. It wasn’t that you were a prude. A part of you secretly wanted to know what it felt like to be so overwhelmed by another that they made you less cautious and more adventurous. No one ever seemed able to stir that emotion in you, however.

Until you’d met JB.

Now, as his fingers traced across your skin, his lips kissed at the hollow of your neck, you couldn’t imagine an alternate universe where you didn’t say yes. Where you weren’t pressed into the backseat of a stuffy cab not caring that you had an audience while JB’s hand made its way between your thighs. His mouth hungrily lapping up your moan as his fingers slid under the edge of your panties.

A part of you should’ve felt embarrassed. You were passengers in this cab. The obvious audience of the older man up front would’ve normally made you shove his hand away with your cheeks pink; pretending to care if they watched.

But JB was a force you weren’t used to. One that threatened to consume you and god, did you want to be consumed.

EARLIER

————————-

“Come on, Y/N. You can’t be sad forever about that asshole.”

Your fingers skimmed the paper of your beer smearing an image of a heart in the condensation. Your teeth drawing in your bottom lip as you thought about what your friend was saying. Of course, she was right. It was two weeks, give or take, since you broke up with Mark. You’d had your days of wallowing, eating copious amounts of ice cream, and crying on the couch watching rom-coms and asking why can’t your life be like this?

There wasn’t any doubt your ex wasn’t off doing the same. Hell, he’d made sure to take pictures of his latest escapades and made sure to share it to his social media. Not that you were looking at any of it or anything.

“You’re right,” you huffed out in defeat.

Why was it so hard to let him go? It wasn’t like he’d had such a hard time deciding to end your relationship.

“I’m sorry. What was that? Can you say it a little louder for me please I’m hard of hearing.”

You shot her a look of disbelief that sent her head falling back with laughter.

“This one time you might be a little bit right.”

You took a swig of your drink to hide your own smile.

“Plus, how can you be sad over that loser when the hottest dude is five feet away.”

You followed her eyes to see what had her making such a bold claim. There were plenty of good looking men and women in the bar. How could one person possibly hold the title when your opinion could be different?

It wasn’t.

You found him easily. No longer needing the guide of your friend to find who it was that’d caught her attention. And sweet Jesus he was hands down the best looking in the room.

He was leaning up against the wall. His eyes half crescent moons as he smiled. One hand holding a beer that was close to his lips as he replied back to whatever his friend said. You shamelessly watched how his lips wrapped around the bottle to take a drink. The sharpness of his jaw and the expanse of his neck.

You wanted to know what he looked like with his mouth on you and tasting the sweetness between your thighs.

The desire for it caused your legs to squeeze together to give yourself any sort of friction. Your mind still going over the fantasy you were creating with him in the starring role. Suddenly, he was looking back at you. A harsh blush rose to your cheeks at being caught but refused to look away.

God! What am I doing?!

You’ve never been the one to make the first move. Of any kind. Eye contact felt like a first move of showing interest, but you were more than interested and a part of you wondered if he could see it. See that even this far between your spaces in the bar how badly you wanted to know how he tasted.

A gasp brought your attention back to the position of your friend. Her mouth agape in shock but that threatened to spill into a smile at any moment.

“Hollleeeeey shit! Did you just give that guy ‘fuck me eyes’ from across the bar?”

You scoffed at the idea before shooting a cautionary look back in his direction. Using your elbows that were on the top of the bar you swiveled yourself to face the many rows of liquor. Fighting the urge to look back at him again or acknowledge your friend bouncing in her seat.

“Yes you fuckin did!”

Your reply was a quick swig of your drink as you tried your best not to grimace at the taste. You’d been babysitting it too long and now it was lukewarm.

“I've had my heart broken. I’m not dead,” you replied.

“Let’s go over and talk to them!”

Your head whipped in her direction so fast you swore you’d ended up with whiplash. Yes, you were looking. And yes, this man did provoke unholy fantasies, but that didn’t mean you were ready to be that close.

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. I think this will be good for you.”

She ignored your burst of panic and waved down the bartender who acknowledged her sooner than you would’ve liked.

“What can I get you ladies.”

“Two shots of tequila, please.”

“What are you doing?”

She wiggled her brows at you and rubbed her shoulder up against yours. Her weak attempt to pump you up with excitement for whatever diabolical thing she’d planned.

“Just a little liquid courage before we head on over.”

“Heading towards the door, you mean.”

Your words came out as a grumble. A pout setting in as the bartender set down the small glasses in front of the two of you. Which she quickly slid hers to click beside yours.

“You, my lovely friend, are going to have both.”

“Are you trying to give me alcohol poisoning?”

“Nope. Just trying to help you get some guiltless sex with a stranger.”

“Wow. You’re so amazing,” you deadpanned. Your hand snacking out to grab one of the shot glasses downing the first one. You were sure the reaction you were having looked like a cartoon character. God, this stuff was disgusting. “I’m pretty sure that stuff causes forest fires.”

The bartender offered you a lemon, amusement flashing in his eyes. You were hoping he could see the thank you in yours with your mouth shoved full of lemon.

You left it sitting in your mouth; teeth clenched tight against the softness and the peel exposed between your lips. You wondered if this was picture worthy and received your answer moments later when your friends’ camera flashed in your face. Your vision erupting in sparks of dark spots that left you unable to see.

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

With the peel still held between your lips you made a face at her. Her mouth opened to reply, and suddenly it closed. Her eyes wide and darting from you to whoever was now perched beside you.

You remembered you still had a shot left and decided it was time to meet your fate. Your legs moved to turn you to sit straight on the stool when you realized someone was beside you at the bar. In perfect horror movie fashion, you glanced at your right and saw the man who’d caused your need for liquid courage.

He was just there. His body casually leaning against the bar with an air of coolness that didn’t seem forced. He was talking with the bartender. The two of them locked in a conversation like they were old friends and catching up. Maybe they were.

Up close he was even more striking. His hair was perfectly slicked back to make it appear short, but it was anything but. The gel he’d used was beginning to wear off and displayed hair that was beginning to fall into his eyes.

You wanted to run your hands through it. To grip it as you rode his tongue.

It felt like he must have had a sensation of what you were thinking. He ended his conversation and turned to look at you. A spark of laughter lit up the dark brown of his eyes and you swore you were swooning in your chair.

“I see you must really like lemons.”

Your brow furrowed as you wondered what the hell he could be talking about. He must have caught on to your confusion and patted a single digit against the lemon peel still peaking like a smile between your lips. Your eyes shot wide with horror as you not too gracefully spit it out onto the napkin.

“Oh...my...god,” you whispered at the wood of the bar. Praying that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

“Hi!” Your friend shot an arm over you with her hand extended for him to shake. “My name’s Vanessa. This is my lovely friend, Y/N. The lemon sucker.”

Your head jerked in her direction and you hoped she could see how much you wish you could hit her.

The man beside you, however, looked nothing but amused and took Vanessa’s hand. You couldn’t keep your eyes from looking at his fingers; the way it practically covered all of hers.

“Nice to meet you both.”

He released her hand and shocked you by leaving his hand open and waiting for you to take. You glanced up at him and then back down to his hand. You took it without waiting too long, because you didn’t want him to think you were rude, or worse, weirder than he probably already did. The minute your hands folded around the other you swore it was electric.

“My name’s Jaebum. Everyone calls me JB, for short.”

Jaebum. JB. You would call him whatever he wanted. His voice was soft as he spoke and forced you to move closer to hear him. You wondered if that’d been his plan. It was the only thing you could think of as his thumb caressed over the knuckles of your hand before he took it away.

You dropped your hand down to the side of your skirt and fought not to rub it against the fabric. The attraction you felt for JB was something that’d come unexpected and you found yourself inexperienced. It felt overwhelming this need to touch him. To be touched in return. To know how he sounded with your lips wrapped around his cock and those same hands on the back of your head. Bending you over and smacking your ass until it was cherry red.

You were still staring at each other as these devilish thoughts played out in your head. His eyes roamed your face and you wondered what he saw there. If JB could see the dirty scenarios he held the starring role in. His gaze slid over you from the tips of your toes, over the exposed legs from your skirt, your chest, and back up to your face.

There was no denying he’d thought of his own scenario with you in mind. His pupils fully blown with lust when he brought his eyes back up to you. Your pulse thudded wildly as you struggled to remember how to properly breathe.

“Did you girls want to come back over to our table?” The question was meant for both Vanessa and you, but when he asked his gaze never left you. He only looked away to point to his indicated spot. “It’s just me and a couple of my friends. I promise, we aren’t weird or anything.”

A bright smile spread across his lips and if you weren’t swooning earlier, you were definitely doing it now. You were nodding your head yes, unsure if you could trust yourself to talk. Vanessa, unfortunately, didn’t seem to have that issue.

“That would be amazing and so good for her. Her boyfriend just broke up with her. She’s very vulnerable.”

Oh. My. God. Was she winking like an idiot?

You looked back at her and couldn’t keep the horror off of her face. Luckily, JB laughed it off. He reached out to grab the drinks he’d ordered and motioned with his head for you girls to follow. You waited for Vanessa to start forward before you fell into step beside her. Your arm shooting out to wrap itself around hers just so you could use it to pull her in tight.

“What in the hell was that!?”

“I’m trying to help you here. Most men love the idea of a girl on the rebound.”

“Because they think they’re easy, Nessa.”

“Precisely.”

She flicked her finger up like she’d just made a great discovery. The only thing she was about to discover was that you were, in fact, desperate but for a whole other reason.

No part of you could remember your ex looking at JB. And while the idea of any sort of relationship with him, physical or otherwise, made you excited there was still that small voice in your head. The not so fun responsible part of you reminded you that you didn’t know him. He could be a weird pervert or a serial killer. Ninety-nine percent of serial killers were usually attractive.

You let out a sigh not sure how to tell her nicely to butt out.

“Just, help me less. Ok?”

She regarded you for a moment. Her arm peeling itself out of yours before bringing you in quickly for a one-armed hug.

“Alright. Girl Scouts honor I won’t say anything else.”

“Thank you!”

And you meant it. Lord knew she only meant well, but in the end it came off embarrassing. Like the two of you were sixteen and in high school again. With you passing notes to all the boys you liked because you were too damn nervous to say anything to their face. You thought it was romantic. In reality, it just seemed well, kinda awkward.

The two of you stood beside the pool table and you did your best not to fidget with your bag. The weight of six new sets of eyes made you feel like an animal in a zoo.

“Guys, this is Vanessa and Y/N. I invited them over to hang out with us. If that’s cool.”

The friends all seemed to go from caution to excitement at seeing you in two point five seconds. All of them agreeing it was cool, and waving you all over to find a chair to sit in.

You were following Vanessa to seats in between two of his friends, when a soft hand on your arm stopped you. You knew without looking it was JB. Your body reacting instantly to his touch as if it’d been set on fire.

“You can sit next to me. If you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Your voice was breathy. Like you were telling him a secret the two of you only needed to hear. The chair in question that sat beside his own, was inches from him. So close that when you sat down your knees were next one another.

He regarded you briefly before he turned his attention back to his group. His arm snaking around your chair to rest on its back. You were aware that it was a show of dominance. Of signaling to his friends and anyone else who cared to look that you were his. The thought of it sent a thrill through your body of being claimed. Only wishing he would claim you another way too.

JB’s group of friends were fun and easy to get a long with. One of them in particular, Hyun-Bae, was incredibly funny. He told stories that were entertaining and knew when to use his humor to make everyone laugh. It was enough to make you almost forget the man beside you. Almost.

You weren’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere between everyone talking, JB’s hand that’d rested comfortably on the back of your chair had moved. His fingers brushed along your skin from your shoulder to collarbone. Each stroke deliberate; sexual and not. Like he could read that you found it comforting but also craved his touch.

You ached with the urge to kiss him. To taste the liquor on his tongue. All those times you turned to imagine yourself leaning in and doing just that, you’d met his gaze. The two of you shared a look of knowing and wondered if he’d just been waiting for you to close the last inches of space between you. You were looking at each other now; eyes hungrily glancing at the others lips.

You wanted to be brave. To just close that space and tell him just to take you home. Screw this dance of cat and mouse. You didn’t want to be chased. You wanted to be owned.

Instead, a soft, “Excuse me,” came from you as you rose up from your chair. You couldn’t get your feet to walk fast enough to the bathroom. You were moving so fast you practically took someone out on the way inside. Getting inside the bathroom, you quickly shut the door and turned the lock.

You were instantly greeted by your reflection in the dirty, marker-ridden, mirror. What you could see of yourself was defeated. A huff of frustration left you as you removed your bag from your shoulder and placed it on the hook on the back of the door. Your feet scuffing the ground as you took a somber approach to the sink.

You told Vanessa you could do this. You didn’t need help to tell a hot guy you wanted him to fuck you until your legs were far past jello and more like liquid. And every time you were given the opportunity to do something at all, you backed out.

You rested your hands on the sink and leaned in. Examining your makeup and how very un-messy it was.

“Note to self: just fuckin do it.”

Yup. The greatest of pep talks.

You weren’t ready to leave the sanctity of the bathroom but a knock sounded on the door. Reminding you very quickly that there were actual people who probably needed to use it. You moved to pick up your bag when another knock came.

“Yea, yea I’m coming. Chill.”

When you opened the door, however, JB was just there. His body pushing into the bathroom causing you to step back to give him room. He closed the door without looking back. His body fully facing you as the door clicked closed behind him.

“JB? Sorry I was just using the restroom-”

“Is that what that was? I mostly heard talking; no flushing.”

His lips spread in an amused smile no doubt at your expense. Your eyes were probably as white as the moon. How long had he been waiting out here?

“Sorry. I just got a little impatient waiting for you.”

In one fluid motion, his arm snaked around your back, and brought you to his chest. JB was prepared for you and his other hand was already holding your face giving him the perfect leverage to crash his mouth down on yours. The moment your lips met that electricity you’d felt earlier flared back to life. This time, it flared across your skin and sparked in every spot he touched.

The kiss started out a brush of lips and soon became more. His tongue danced at the edge of your bottom lip and you gladly opened up to him. Your hands plunging to make a mess of his perfectly gelled hair at the same time his tongue slipped inside your mouth.

You were eager to respond. Eager to caress his tongue with yours. His mouth tasted of the bittersweet liquor he’d sipped on for the last hour. Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to taste yourself on his lips made your body ache to be touched in other places. For your fantasies of his mouth on you to begin here. You didn’t care where.

JB seemed to understand what you needed. He broke from the kiss fast and turned you around. His body pressed against your back and his hands at the edge of your skirt. You watched in the mirror as he moved your skirt up to your hips exposing your thong to the room.

He watched you, his lips hovering over your ear before giving it a playful nip, and those same hands were now laced in the strings. JB moved back just enough to squat down so his hands could move them down your legs until he reached your ankles.

“Step out.”

You followed his command without question. Your head tilting back to watch the little bit of cloth he held in his hand get scrunched up even smaller and placed inside the front pocket of his jeans. His eyes looked up to meet yours, and your body froze with anticipation. Whatever he would ask you to do, you knew you would comply.

“Spread your legs.”

The demand in his voice was feverish. His own need on display as his hand caressed up your calf until it was between your thighs. A finger teasingly moved across your opening, causing a soft gasp to exit from your lips. You did as you were instructed and waited until you heard an approving, “Hm,” from his lips.

The room swelled as the anticipation grew. The reflection you’d seen moments ago was washed away and the woman who’d taken her place was eager and ready to offer up her own demands.

JB moved to stand on his feet with his hands traveling along the curve of your legs and up onto your hips. There his fingers dug into the soft flesh as he leaned into your back, his eyes on yours in the mirror, as he spoke into your ear, “Place your hands on the sink.”

“Spank me first.”

A shiver of shock ran through you. You couldn’t believe you’d said it, but after your request had left you, you’d refused to take it back. Your body craved to be reprimanded by his hands and the smirk on his lips told you plainly he was more than happy to oblige.

“Beg for it.”

“Please spank me. Please, JB.”

His hand curled up to wrap around your throat as his index finger danced at the edge of your lips.

“How bad do you want it?”

“I want I-“

The smack reverberated like thunder in the small room. The sting was instant and beautiful. The heat between your legs was aching and your ass jetted against his jeans for any kind of friction. JB stepped back, denying you any form of relief, and landed another smack on your exposed cheek.

This one made your knees wobble as the pleasure rolled through you. Your hands on the sink was the only thing that saved you from showing him what he’d done.

“You love that don’t you?”

JB already knew you did, but he wanted to hear you. He needed to hear you say how much you loved feeling his hand leaving its mark, red and angry, on your skin.

“Yes,” you gasped. “It feels so good.”

He landed another smack and you couldn’t keep yourself quiet anymore. Your moan loud and aching like your pussy. Luckily, his hand was still on your throat and silenced you by placing his fingers in your mouth. You sucked on them immediately and this time you could feel JB rut against your ass. The hardness of his cock pressed against the fabric of his jeans gave away just how turned on he was at your bathroom escapades.

He pulled his fingers free from your mouth and, with the same fingers, slick and wet, placed it between your legs. The two digits moving to slide between your folds. First, scissoring around your clit; caressing the delicate bud until you gave him the moan he worked for.

When the soft sound left you JB slid them deep inside you causing the noise to become louder. A shudder ran through your body as you backed up into him.

His fingers removed themselves suddenly, and you couldn’t keep the disappointment from escaping you. A whine you were sure sounded like you were close to tears. JB gave your ass another smack and all it did was drive the need inside you closer to madness.

His hands planted themselves onto your ass and you felt him kneel down. Those two strategically placed hands lifting up the flesh there leaving your pussy exposed and aching in his view. Your hands were gripping the porcelain of the sink so tight you’d thought it’d crack. Your body trembling in anticipation of what he might do and the need to cover yourself up playing tug-of-war in your head.

The idea of any sort of hiding vanished when his mouth planted itself between your legs. His tongue snaking out to flick across your clit made you back up to greet his mouth. JB quickly took that moment to slide his tongue from clit to ass. The sensation was so foreign and new to you, you weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed, but the pleasure you got quickly washed the thought away.

JB gave you no time to pull yourself together. His face was back between your legs with an eager tongue to lick up every last drop. His tongue swirled around your clit and sent light flicks when you were least expecting it. Each time your legs threatened to crumble, but JB held you there with steady hands.

His tongue explored you thoroughly and put to his memory what made your knees weak. What caused a soft mulling sound of need to claw up from your throat. And what caused your grip on the sink to become almost violent.

Between each languid lick his tongue would find itself taking long strides all the way up and back down to your peak. Your body had now grown accustomed to the new sensation, and you welcomed it greedily as you pushed back against his face.

When JB knew you were so close to your sweet release he focused his tongue more on your swollen bud. Each new caress of his tongue gradually made it harder for your arms to hold you up. For your legs to keep from shaking uncontrollably.

Your orgasm continued to grow; blossoming between your folds with an ache that your body felt. You were so, so close and with a final thrust of his tongue you felt your world spin and that sweet heat between your legs finally sent shockwaves all over your body.

You came moaning so loud anyone else would’ve thought you were screaming. Your head thrown back and riding the sensation of his greedy mouth taking everything you had to offer.

When his lips finally released from you, your body was still coming down from your orgasm. The loud panting that came from you as you leaned against the sink completely spent. You watched in the mirror as he pulled a golden foil packet from his pocket. His eyes sinfully watching you as he ripped it carefully with his teeth. JB’s finger moved quickly to take out the slick rubber from the packet and begin to work it down his shaft.

You’d been so consumed with recovering from his tongue that you hadn’t realized when he’d taken his cock out of his jeans that were now shameless at his ankles. He put a few fingers inside your wetness that caused you to gasp. Your body was still recovering from what had just taken place.

He used your cum to lubricate himself and placed himself at your entrance. Already the tip of him stretching you out with the delicious sting that told you he was thick. You couldn’t wait.

You moved to push back into him to help him inside and he pulled away. His hand smacking down on your ass making you even more eager.

“Patience is a virtue.”

He tried to be funny, but his voice was deep and throaty with his own lust. You were close to pleading with him again like before, but he let it be known quickly he had no intentions to wait.

JB slid inside you and you felt your pussy stretch to accommodate him. The feel of him making your breath catch. His girth much thicker than you’d imagined, and your body shook from the pleasure of feeling yourself stretch around him.

His thrusts started off slow until he knew you’d had enough time. His hands found an anchor on your hips and used them to pull you in to meet his hips. A string of curse words fell from your mouth as your hips rocked back into him.

Each movement felt like he was going deeper. JB’s hands on the cheeks of your ass kept you spread open to him and left no friction to catch his thrusts. Every single one was felt as he buried himself inside you in a rhythmic timing that left you moaning.

You caught your reflection in the mirror, and glanced over to watch him as he worked. The way his hips bucked up only to be brought down. His hands stationed on your hips and bruising the flesh there as his grip got tighter. JB looked up and caught a glimpse of you in the mirror. His eyes locked with yours as he continued that unrelenting pace.

He removed a hand from your ass and used it to wrap back around your neck. When he knew he had a good grip, he used it to pull you close to his chest. The angle of him in this new position somehow made him feel like he was pushing into your gut.

Your mouth opened to make another sound, a moan or a scream you weren’t sure which, when that hand in your throat tilted your mouth towards him. His own came crashing down on your lips with his tongue that tasted of you slipping inside. You eagerly opened your mouth to him, and your tongue quickly moved to get a taste.

JB deepened the kiss as his hips began to thrust harder into you. The movement building up your orgasm with each brutal movement until it threatened to spill over.

“You taste so good with me on your lips.”

Your words fell earnest from your lips. You meant every one of them. You’d never tasted yourself so pretty on anyone else’s lips. JB obliged as he took your lips back. His mouth silenced another moan as his last free hand found its way back to your clit. Your body jumped at the added sensation. Your mouth tore away from his as another moan dripped from your lips.

You were so close. You could fill yourself ready to cum if only he would let you. JB must have been close too, because his thrusts started becoming more violent and sporadic. Hitting in all the right places.

At the same time as his fingers made small circles around your clit, a singular hard thrust of his hips sent his cock deep inside you. Your vision erupted in a sea of white. Your orgasm sent your body rutting back against him.

He rode your orgasm and somehow made it grow in intensity as he continued to move his hips. His own breathing going ragged as you felt him finally release into you.

When you both were able to breathe again, you’d realized you were laying over the sink. JB’s forehead resting on your back as you both struggled to regain your composure.

JB was the first to move. The first to begin the arduous process of cleaning up. Like a voyeur, you watched him as he threw away the spent rubber and tuck himself back inside his jeans. A smirk creased your lips when you noticed he now had noticeable wet spots on his tee shirt.

“You know, I don’t even know anything about you.”

You weren’t sure why you made the comment or why it mattered. You’d just had sex with the man in a damn bar bathroom. But JB didn’t seem to mind. His own smile curling his lips as he salvaged what he could of his hair.

“What would you like to know?”

“Well,” you began as you started to situate your skirt. “What’s your favorite color?”

It was a silly question. By the look on JB’s face, he knew it was, but he humored you anyways.

“It used to be blue, but I think red might be a new favorite.”

“Why is that?”

You were wondering where your panties had gone until you spied a bit of the black cloth hanging from his pocket. JB walked over to you in a few steps and planted a soft kiss down on your lips. One that spoke plainly, this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see each other.

“Because it currently matches the color of your ass.”

JB was out the door and in the bar’s hallway before you’d even got a chance to respond.

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so-writing · 4 years ago

Text

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea- Matthew Tkachuk (20)

all parts here

“It’s about fucking time!”

“Holy shit, he finally did it!”

“Go, Chucky, get your girl!”

The shouts from the team when they saw the two of you together were as loud as ever and everyone seemed to be celebrating.

“We’re still just friends,” you reminded Matthew and removed his arms from your waist.

“I know,” he shouted after you as you quickly skated away from him.

“So shut your friends up!”

You’d just told yourself that it didn’t matter what the team and their families thought but seeing them, and hearing them cheer on whatever was happening with you and Matthew had you trying to put as much space between the two of you as possible.

It was easy to think about the two of you when you were alone in a hotel room with one bed, or were in only ones in the hallway at work, or anywhere else where it was just you and him but letting everyone else in wasn’t something you were ready for. You weren’t sure you would ever be ready for it, because it would mean actually letting your guard down. Not just with Matthew, but with everyone around the both of you and thought of doing so wasn’t something you could see yourself doing anytime soon.

You could never picture a time in your life where it was acceptable for Matthew Tkachuk to wrap his arms around you or pull you into a kiss with his teammates and your bosses surrounding you and easily supporting it like it was nothing.

The room was starting to get hot and your skates were bothering you. Scanning the wood rink, you found Matthew at the other end fucking around with a few of the guys. His team, his friends were here now. That meant you probably didn’t need to be, and you doubted he’d notice if you slipped out and took an Uber home.

“Have you seen the girl I came in with, before everybody else got here?”

Matthew had gotten a little too caught up in spending some off time with the guys that he kind of abandoned her. He hoped she was off somewhere socializing with someone else and wouldn’t be be bothered. After checking the entire place and speaking to a bunch of people who claimed they hadn’t seen her in a while, he found himself talking to the girl behind the skate rental counter.

“She left, turned in her skates like twenty-five minutes ago.”

“What? Did she happen to say why?”

“Nope, just gave back her skates, told me to have a good day and headed out.”

His head was spinning and his feelings were more than a little hurt. They were having fun before everyone else arrived, at least he thought so. What had changed?

“You good, man?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

Matthew replaced his skates with his shoes and set them underneath the table. He couldn’t just leave what was supposed to be a team event, but he needed to know what happened and stepped outside to make the phone call.

Her phone rang twice before she answered.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi. What the fuck?”

It came out angrier than intended but fine, maybe he was a little angry.

“What?”

“You just bailed on me. Why?”

“I just assumed now that everyone was there you’d want to spend time with them. You rarely get to do fun stuff like this with them so I just figured..”

“I get to skate with them everyday. It’s literally my job. I wanted to spend time with you,” he paused for a second to recover, “as friends, obviously.”

At least the first part was true.

“Oh.”

Oh? That was all she had to say?

“Well, I need to get back inside so I guess I’ll just see you when I see you.”

“Ok,” he was too irritated and hurt to notice that her voice had gone just a little bit softer.

Matthew ended the call without saying goodbye and you knew you fucked up. He hadn’t been paying much attention to you though, and he looked like he was having so much fun, and maybe you were a little scared that people would get the wrong idea if you hung around him the entire time.

That’s what friends did though, right? Spent time together? You knew you couldn’t go back to the rollerskating rink and face him, but you knew you couldn’t leave things the way they were.

His phone went to voicemail after the normal amount of ringing, which you figured would happen. He definitely wasn’t going to be waiting around for you to get in touch with him after ditching the hangout.

“Look Matt,” you went casual hoping it would soften him a bit, “I’m really sorry I left. I honestly didn’t think you’d be mad but clearly I was wrong. If I’m being honest, this thing happening between us is the most confusing relationship, if you can even call it that, that I’ve ever had and I’m having a really hard time navigating it. Again, I’m sorry for ditching you. I guess I’ll see you at work. I hope you still have fun today.”

You were pretty deep into the second season of “The Circle” and a ten piece spicy nuggets from Wendy’s when your phone vibrated. It was a text from Matthew and you were scared to read it.

So you decided not to, not yet anyway. Hopping off the couch, you headed into the kitchen and poured yourself a considerable glass of wine and downed it like it was a shot of tequila, and then you did it a second time. After that, you grabbed the barely touched bottle of tequila from your cabinet and poured yourself a shot, tossing it back with no chaser.

It was too much at once but you got comfortably tipsy pretty quickly and decided that it was time to open his message.

Get out of your fucking head and just hang out with me. We’re trying to be friends, not work out how to handle an arranged marriage. I’ll be home tonight, head up if you want

If he was offering, who were you not to take him up on it?

Someone was pounding entirely too aggressively on Matthew’s door and he had an idea of who it might be.

“Jesus, I have neighbors!”

Matthew pulled her into his apartment and shut the door behind them. He noticed her slightly glazed eyes and the silly smile on her lips, “why are you only cool with me when you’re drunk?”

“I’m not drunk,” she defended, “just nicely tipsy.”

“Come on,” he lead her into the kitchen and thrust a bottle of water into her hands, “drink this.”

“Fine,” she huffed but did it anyway and he couldn’t deny how cute he thought that was.

She downed the water and seemed to be a little more stable but he wasn’t sure.

“You want to come watch TV with me?”

“Depends, what are you watching?”

“The Circle.”

“Which season?!”

She lit up at his response and fuck, that was fucking adorable too.

“Second season, you watch it?”

“Yes! I’m on the tenth episode!”

“I’m only on the second, do you mind watching stuff you’ve already seen?”

“Not at all, I love this show!”

She fell asleep with her head on his chest within twenty minutes and he didn’t dare try and move her so he continued watching the episodes in the same position and finally let himself fall asleep when Netflix asked if he was ‘still watching?’

You woke up on a couch you didn’t recognize with your head on a chest you weren’t familiar with. It wasn’t until you stretched your arms and your hand slid into a mess of curls that you realized where you were.

“Fuck,” his voice was heavy with sleep, “you’re going to have to fuck me if you want to pull my hair like that.”

“Shit,” he was up quickly and practically shoving you off of him, “I didn’t mean that.”

“Jesus, Matthew,” you chuckled at the expression on his face and stood up from the couch to stretch, “this is the worst couch I’ve ever slept on. I thought you had money?”

“Shut up.”

He ran a hand through his curls as he stood up and you couldn’t stop yourself from watching. Matthew was only dressed in a pair of basketball shorts that hung low on his hips. You counted his abs and wished you had been sober when you slept on them because then you could have truly appreciated them.

“Eyes on mine,” a smug smile sat on his lips, “you’ve had plenty of looks, no more until you’re willing to return the favor.”

Matthew Tkachuk was an irritating, annoying pest and an overall pain the fucking ass but he was lovely to look at and you’d always known it. If he could be a scandalous flirt, so could you.

“I could say the same to you. Your eyes have been below my neck since we got up and I think it has something to do with the tank top and shorts I’m wearing.”

He was standing in front of you now, his chest less than an inch from yours and the sexual tension radiating off the two of you was strong enough to cut diamond.

“I’m looking respectfully,” he commented, “I respect the fact that you are beautiful and that I don’t just want to be your friend. I, respectfully, want so much more than that.”

There it was fucking was. Matthew didn’t want to be your friend, and you didn’t want to be his either.

“I’m going to, respectfully, tell you that I don’t want to be your friend either. Also, respectfully, I’d like you to ruin me, Matthew Tkachuk.”

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #matt tkachuk #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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ev-pierce-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Bolero

Javier PenaxReader pairing

Rating: Explicit (duh)

7.4 K

What starts as just a job as an informant quickly turns into an attraction to Agent Javier Peña.

Essentially what I think it's like to dance with Javi. Plus having sex.

If you want to listen to the song I picture them dancing to it's called Dos Gardenias by Buena Vista Social Club. I know it didn't come out until the 90s but I really don't care.

___

You didn't like this part of the job. Hated it, actually. Your feet hurt in your heels and the humidity was making you sweat. But tips were tips, even if it involved fake flirting with old men.

The music ended and José spun you into a dip as the small crowd clapped. José was an excellent dancer and he made for a good partner when it came time to actually perform for the guests, rather than try to drag them onto the dance floor. Most people assumed you were a couple you danced so in sync, but it wasn't like that.

He was a good friend though. He'd gotten you the job at the bistro, and for the small pain of three choreographed dances a night plus a few private salsas, you were paid handsomely. Of course, this wasn't your dream, performing in a smoky, humid bar for tourists and old handsy men. You would rather be on the stage as a professional, performing only for the people who could afford a ticket, not just a watered-down tequila. But work was work and money was money.

Now your least favorite part. You leaned an elbow on the bar, sweeping the crowd for whatever gringo looked the least gross. The manager insisted you interacted with the customers, reeling them in with a sexy pose and a few awkward steps on the dance floor. They tended to drink more when you did that, which was good for the bar, and you usually ended up with a couple of extra bills in your hand, which was good for you. So you complied.

An older, slightly less creepy-looking gentleman had caught your eye, and you were about to approach when you felt a gentle hand on your elbow.

"Mind teaching me a few of those steps you just did?" The music was starting up again with a bolero, your cue to find the dance floor, so you figured you'd comply with the request. Except when you looked into the face of the stranger who had spoken those words, you were taken aback. He was young, or at least younger than most of the men in here, and taller too. Shining from his tanned face were chocolatey brown eyes, surprisingly sincere and kind. His dark hair was combed into place, though a few stray curls peeked out from behind his ears and at the base of his neck.

"Sí, señor." The Spanish came out as a force of habit, though he had addressed you in English and a perfect American accent. Men liked it when you spoke Spanish, even if they couldn't understand. It gave them the impression that you were exotic. But the man half expected that from you. He'd been watching you most of the night, analyzing the way you moved, the way you beguiled the guests into a dance and then a drink, the way you controlled a man's mood with the flick of your hips and slide of your hand up his arm. The perfect skill set of a secret plant.

Without any hesitation, the man took your hand in his and led you into the crowd of dancing people. He placed his other on your hip, though he left a respectful distance between the two of you. It was uncharacteristic of the guests to do so; they generally felt they had some right to press up against you as they stumbled around.

But this man was different. He already knew the three-quarter timing. He seemed a bit tense, like he was having trouble letting loose, but he wasn't clumsy at all. "I don't think you need my instruction," you said.

The man smiled, his mustache curling up to reveal a single dimple on his smooth cheek.

"No, hermana, I don't."

Maybe there was some Latino in that tan after all. But his reply caught you off guard. You hoped pulling you onto the dance floor wasn't his attempt at flirting. You'd made a pact with yourself to never sleep with the guests, and so far you'd held true.

But he wasn't flirting, though he desperately wanted to. You were exactly the type of girl he'd pick up on a boring night, or pay to have sex with him and share your secrets. But tonight was strictly business.

"Do you work here every night?" he asked. It was a strangely specific question, though maybe he was hoping to see you again, you thought.

"Only Thursday, Friday, Saturday," you replied. The bistro only ever needed you on the busiest nights of the week, which was fine with you. Three days of work made you plenty of money, and then you had the rest of the week off. "Why? Are you already planning a second dance?"

The man ignored his question to ask another of his own. "Do you make a lot of money?"

His questions were starting to sound a bit bizarre and he wasn't answering yours either. Why did he care what you made?

"Unless you're planning on hiring me and paying me more, I don't see why you need to know." It wasn't good to be snappy with paying customers, but this enigma of a man didn't seem like the average customer to you. And instead of getting defensive at your tone, his mood shifted quickly and he laughed. A deep, throaty laugh, just as gravely and melodious as his voice. He liked your confidence and your attitude. But then he was back to business just as quickly.

The man led you towards the back of the dance floor, away from the crowd and the watchful eye of the bartender, a move that made you worry and caused you to doubt his intentions. His eyes had gone serious, a wrinkle of concentration between his eyebrows and crowding out the kindness.

"Actually, I would like to hire you."

You came to a stop in surprise but the man pulled you forward, urging you to continue dancing so as not to draw attention to the pair of you. He drew you closer so he could speak directly into your ear, forcing you to breathe in his scent with the proximity, cologne and cigarettes and the saltiness of a light sweat.

"You have a club or something?"

He didn't answer your question, just asked more of his own. "Do you know runs this place?"

You shrugged. "I think his name is Manuel, but I've only met him once."

"Keep an eye out for him, will you? See when he comes and goes, if he gets any shipments or deliveries. I'll pay you for providing information."

It was your turn to finally get some answers. "Who are you?"

"My name is Javier Peña." Javier spun you out before pulling you back into his chest.

"Well, Señor Peña, I don't know who you think I am, but I am not a spy and I don't give a damn about what my employer does. So why do you care what he does?"

"Let's just say the government has a special interest in your employer. But we'd like to keep this little piece of knowledge under wraps."

You eyed Javier suspiciously. Why would the government be interested in what your boss did with his bistro? And why would this man, Javier Peña, trust you to deliver secrets? But again, money was money. Little did you know, Javier Peña was aware of your lack of loyalty to anyone, as long as they were paying you, and he gambled on this fact to ease you into a deal.

"How much are you offering?"

"I'll double whatever you make now."

Double? Mierda. "Bueno, double it is. Not sure what you expect me to find, but I'll keep my eyes open."

That full smile returned, white teeth and all. "Un secreto, sí?"

You nodded in return as the song came to an end. Letting go of your waist, Javier pulled a pair of aviators from the deep vee of his shirt and slipped them on before handing you a business card from the back pocket of his jeans. He instructed you to call him if you saw anything, anything at all. Javier gave you a salute and turned to leave, though not before asking you one more question.

"And your name?"

Now is when you usually lied, telling whatever slimeball you'd just swayed into oblivion a made-up name, like Rosa or Maria. But something about this time was different. This time, you gave him your real name.

"Adiós, bailarina," he said with a grin.

"Adiós, Señor Peña." It wasn't until you were home that you noticed he'd slipped a small stack of bills into your pocket.

---

Standing in the living room of your apartment, you held the card Javier had given you almost a week ago. You hadn't been exactly sure what he was asking you to look out for. You rarely saw your boss anyway. But then tonight, as you'd arrived at work, a truck had been parked by the employee entrance of the bistro. Manuel was still nowhere to be found, but stacks upon stacks of boxes were being unloaded into the dry storage of the kitchen. And you had taken note of it all.

Finally, you picked up the phone off its cradle and dialed the number on the card, wrapping the thick cord around your fingers as it rang. A moment of silence, and then a deep voice spoke on the other end of the line.

"Javier Peña speaking." It sounded like he had just woken up, his voice softer than you remembered and groggy as well. It was a bit late, after midnight, but you figured this was something he wanted to hear sooner rather than later.

"Hola, Senior Peña, it's me from the bistro." Another silence, some shuffling, and was that a voice in the background? "Did I wake you?"

"No, not at all. What's up?"

"You wanted to know if Manuel had a shipment, right?"

"Yes, yes, what did you see?"

"Hm, I could tell you. Or I could get my mi dinero first."

Javier sighed on the other end. "Right, of course. How much do I owe you?"

"Let's see, including tips, I made 300 this week."

"Fine, 300 pesos it is. Where can I meet you?"

"You want to meet right now?"

Apparently, he did. You gave him the address to a twenty-four-hour diner you liked and he hung up, saying he'd meet you there. You gathered your purse, double-checking that the small handgun you carried for self-defense was still there. Not that you were worried the mysterious Javier Peña was someone to be scared of. But better safe than sorry.

Ten minutes later, you stepped out into the heat of the summer air. The darkness of night did little to reduce the temperature, but the humidity had dissipated enough that you rolled the windows of the car down and blasted your music into the silent night.

Though you were sure you looked a bit frazzled and worn out when you parked, Javier only noticed the flush on your cheeks and the curl of your windswept hair as he watched you step out of the car through the window of the diner. You hadn't bothered to change out of your dress and heels from work, which left little to the imagination in the way of your long legs and curved waist. When he'd first approached you last week, he'd been polite and reserved, only letting his hands fall where they were meant to in a dance. But tonight, the ruching of your dress at your hips called out to be touched. Javier knew it was all part of your job, but part of him wished you'd dressed up like that just for him. He shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking about you like this.

A little bell jingled over the door as you drifted into the warm restaurant.

Javier steadied his hands and composed his face, not wanting to reveal the true thoughts running through his mind as you plopped into the booth seat across from him. He looked ready to get down to business, but you were hungry and held up a hand to silence him before he could begin to speak. The waitress came and took your order, a burger and fries, before turning to Javier. He relented to whatever game you were playing and ordered as well in perfect Spanish.

"Where are you from?" you asked as the waitress left to place your orders.

"This little meeting isn't about me," Javier replied, sounding a bit preoccupied, distracted even. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing the smooth skin of his neck and chest, as if he'd dressed in a hurry.

"Eh, that's not very polite. Did I interrupt a little midnight date with your amorcita?" You were pretty sure that had been a woman's voice in the background when you called him earlier. His response, or lack thereof, told you everything you needed to know. Emboldened by his reaction, you continued on with your one-sided conversation.

"I love American food. Are burgers better in Texas? That is where you're from, no?"

The look of shock that flitted across Javier's face was enough to satisfy you and you leaned back in your seat with a smile. You tried your best not to show how pleased you were with his reaction, but your comment got you thinking about what he was like in bed. That was not a direction you needed your mind to wander, especially when it caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

"Okay, detective, I think that's enough. You want your money or not?" Though he acted annoyed, Javier was secretly impressed. What had given it away? His accent maybe?

"Sí, sí. Although I am a bit interested to know where my money is coming from."

"I told you. The government."

"You haven't really proven that to me though. Besides, what if you're trying to put my boss out of business? Then I'm out of a job. A good-paying job."

"I am trying to put your boss out of business." The withering look you gave Javier didn't put him off, though you wished it did. If looks could kill and all that. But it did provoke him to pull something from his back pocket and hold it up to your face. "DEA. You know what that is right?"

"Mierda, was it drugs in those boxes?" You couldn't help the shock that spread across your face.

"Maybe."

You pulled a notepad from your purse as the waitress returned with your food. In between bites, you read off of the notes you'd taken.

"I got to work at 4:30. The truck was already there. Manuel was not. Some men unloaded the boxes into the kitchen."

"How many."

"I don't know."

Javier raised his eyebrows. If he'd learned anything from this conversation it was that you were an observant person. He doubted that you hadn't bothered to count them. He had only to wait for you to continue on your own.

"Bueno, forty or so. This big," you indicated with your hands, about the size of the box the tomatoes came in.

"And it wasn't just food in there? You're sure it was something different than normal?"

"Come on, don't you trust me?"

"No," was his swift reply, though it was said with a smile.

"Alright, then. I looked in one. Not food, for sure."

Javier nodded in understanding and pulled a billfold from his back pocket, ready to hand over your cash.

"Espere, Señor, you think that's all I've got?" you said teasingly as you finished your fries and sucked the grease from your fingertips. "You really have no faith, dios mío."

Javier watched you intently, scrutinizing the way your tongue licked away the grease from your thumb. He took a deep breath that sounded like exasperation to you but was really meant to release an uncomfortable knot building in his stomach as he tried not to imagine what else your tongue could do.

"At 5:30, a woman named Victoria called looking for Manuel. No one answered the phone so I did. She left this message." You read directly from the notepad. "I like chocolate ice cream better than vanilla. Maybe you can take me to la heladería tomorrow."

"You're joking."

"Not at all. She said that," you said defensively. "Even gave me an address."

You ripped the paper from your notebook at handed it to Javier as he rubbed a hand along his strong jaw.

"So what are you going to do? Maybe a stakeout, arrest some people, wave your armas around?"

Javier rolled his eyes. "The DEA isn't all about stakeouts and guns. But no, we aren't going to do anything yet. There's no need to reveal our plant. And we don't want you to end up dead so don't get caught either."

"How reassuring. I'm glad the United States has me in their best interests," you deadpanned.

"Just keep doing what you're doing."

"Oh, so you want to see me again? Next time you can buy me a drink."

"Don't flatter yourself."

You laughed in response. Sure, this was all about money, but it was nice to have a real conversation with someone who was witty enough to keep up with your banter. But he was still too easy to tease and you took advantage of it. You liked the way his eyes narrowed and his brows creased when you got under his skin.

"You know, I'll just take it as a compliment that you're only paying me for information and not sex as well," you said as you stood, placing a couple of bills onto the table as a tip.

Javier groaned in frustration. Talking to you was like walking through a hailstorm of bullets. He was bound to get grazed no matter how careful he was. "Eh, mujer, give me a break, por favor."

And yet, despite his protests, Javier liked your sharp tongue. It intrigued him. Normally, he didn't care much about who his informants were or where they were from. But Javier was curious about you. You were smart, skilled, and good at influencing people to comply with your desires. And yet you spent your weekends on a sticky dance floor, performing for gringos like him.

The glittering smile you gave him as you left him sitting in the booth lit a small flame in his heart.

"Buenas noches, Señor Peña," you said to him as you left, almost out the door before he called your name. You turned back. "Qué pasa?"

"Javi. Just call me Javi."

---

Several weeks went by like this, with you calling Javier late at night to let him know what you'd seen. The check-ins came every Saturday, as the shipments had been consistent and seemed to run on a schedule. Eventually, you got comfortable enough to let Javier come to your apartment and exchange information for cash on your couch. You had no idea, but Javier was beginning to expect your calls, anticipating the ringing of his phone around midnight and hearing your voice on the other end.

But when you didn't check in one week, he began to worry. It was past one in the morning. Surely you would have called by now. Maybe he had missed it? There was no way; he'd sat next to the phone all night. So Javier did something he never did. He called you instead. When you didn't answer, he started to suspect something was wrong. Javier told himself to calm down, that you had probably just forgotten, or that maybe nothing of note had happened this week, or you were already asleep. But he couldn't get it out of his mind that something had gone wrong, that you'd been found out and someone had hurt you.

It was nearly two when you finally got home. For some reason, the Saturday crowd had been extra lively tonight, keeping you much later than you wanted. As soon as you unlocked the door and stepped into your apartment, you pulled off your heels and unzipped your dress, peeling it from your sticky body right there in the living room. You needed a shower and you needed to call Javier, but all you wanted was sleep. It could wait until morning.

At last, you were ready for bed, windows pushed open to let in a breeze, sheets turned down, and in nothing but your dressing gown, when a knock sounded at your door. Who would be up at this time of night and disturbing your peace?

Looking through the peephole, you were shocked to find the last person on earth you expected to be standing in the hallway of your apartment building.

"Javi?" you said in confusion as you opened the door. He was leaning against the door frame, one hand on his hip, as if trying to look relaxed but totally failing at it. On Javier's face were written lines of worry, but they relaxed at the sight of you. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, good, you're home. I was worried."

Maybe it was the exhaustion fogging your brain, but he sounded genuinely distressed. The normally confident, almost arrogant Javier had been replaced with someone entirely different. "Sí, of course I'm home, where else would I be?"

"Well, you didn't call. And then you didn't answer your phone. So I was worried something had happened." Javier had managed to miss the state of your dress, or lack thereof, when you had first opened the door. But now, he noticed you wore a cream-colored dressing gown and little else. One sleeve had slipped off your shoulder in your hurry to dress, revealing the lack of anything beneath.

Javier's breath hitched in his throat as he desperately tried to tear his eyes away from your shoulder. It was a just shoulder, for god's sake. It's not like you were standing naked in front of him. But then he was thinking about you naked and that was an even bigger problem.

For a whole month, Javier had gone without a woman in his bed and it wasn't until he saw you that he realized why. He wanted you, but in a way that was different from the way he wanted anyone else. He didn't want you for information or even a quick release, but something more intimate and intense. What was wrong with him? He had to leave before he said something he might regret. You were an informant, a contact, a player in this long game of chess, and nothing more.

"I'm gonna go," Javier said, finally looking away. He was acting strange, even your tired eyes could tell. He looked disheveled, the buttons of his salmon pink shirt left open at the top and half-tucked into his jeans. His hair was no longer combed flat, the way it usually was when you saw him. Instead, it stuck up in all manner of directions, curly and unruly. Javier rubbed the back of his head as he turned to go. You weren't sure what exactly compelled you, but you called out to him before he could leave.

"Do you want a drink?" So much for sleep.

Javier had been in your apartment plenty of times. So why did he suddenly not know what to do with himself? He stood stiffly in the living room, eyeing the discarded dress you hadn't picked up yet. When you handed him a glass of whiskey he barely noticed. His mind was clearly not in the apartment, though his body was. Finally, he sat on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees, the glass balanced precariously in one hand.

Javier's thoughts drifted from one place to another, relief that you were fine, embarrassment for having thought that you weren't, bliss at your invitation inside, and then shame for having accepted.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" he asked.

"Only if you share," you replied, sitting next to him on the couch with your own drink. The pair of you sat like that for a while, in complete silence, passing a single cigarette back and forth. Javier had no way of knowing but your thoughts followed a similar path to his, a rollercoaster masked by a sense of calm.

Your fingertips lightly grazed his as Javier passed you the cigarette. He watched you take a long draw, pulling the smoke deep into your lungs and letting it numb the strange feeling inside you. You were hyper-aware of Javier's presence beside you, his shoulder and knee barely grazing yours, even though you stared straight ahead at the clock on the wall. Three in the morning, it read. Perhaps it was something about the early morning hours, or the dim light of your living room, the only source from the kitchen, but the next words out of your mouth were the most sincere you'd ever spoken to him.

"Are you alright, Javi?"

"Sí."

"You don't seem alright." His voice was too calm. "Is it work?"

"No."

"Friends? Family?"

"No."

You paused, pretending to contemplate for a moment.

"Ah, I know. No pretty girls to warm your bed?" You couldn't help it, falling back into teasing him like that. But he didn't want to talk and it was the only way to draw him out.

"It's disturbing how observant you are," Javier said. It wasn't a true answer, but it was answer enough. He sighed and put the cigarette out before placing his head in his hands. "We aren't friends, you know."

It was a strange comment, almost like he was trying to convince himself of the fact, not you.

"Wow. I should be offended. But for your sake, I'll pretend like I'm not."

"That's not what I mean," Javier tried to explain. "I mean-- I mean I shouldn't be doing this." He waved his hand around as if it indicated anything about what 'this' was. But you understood. He shouldn't be accepting drinks after midnight and sharing cigarettes in dimly lit apartments. It was unprofessional. Then again, everything about your relationship was unprofessional, even the work only parts.

It had taken you a while to admit to yourself that you were attracted to Javier. But when you actually started to look forward to Saturday night, to your conversations, even though they revolved around your work, that's when you knew. It was something in the way he looked when he was listening to you, his eyes holding contact with yours, eyebrows furrowed, hand on his chin, that made you think maybe he felt the same way. His hands, what was it about them? They were big and strong and you hadn't yet forgotten the way they had held onto your waist as you danced the night you met.

Dance. You knew how to communicate with that. It was second nature. Perhaps it would let you both open up. So you stood and moved to the record player. The space wasn't big enough to truly dance, but you kept plenty of records on hand to practice new choreography alone. You pulled out your favorite, a gift from José, and carefully placed down the needle.

"The bolero is danced in 3/4 time," you said, holding out your hand to Javier. "But I think you knew that already."

Javier seemed to understand and only hesitated a moment. The music swelled and he took your hand in one of his, the other finding its place on your back between your shoulder blades. There wasn't much space to move, but he led you through the steps anyway. Rock forward, step right, rock back, step left. Repeat. Tonight, Javier held you close, your hips and chests pressed against one another in a way that was much different from the first time you'd danced. He was more relaxed as well, allowing his hips to move in time with yours. Javier leaned his cheek against yours.

When you'd invited him in for a drink, Javier hadn't been sure what your intentions were. He still wasn't, though something in the way you let his fingertips glide up and down your spine as you danced gave him an idea.

And yet, he couldn't read you at all, though it seemed he could have no secrets around you. You had picked up instantly on his strange mood and though he hated to admit it, he liked the way you were persistent in trying to draw him out from his shell. He found you alluring. You were beautiful, yes, and he imagined as he fell asleep at night what you might look like under your tight dresses and this deliciously thin robe. But he also liked you, liked talking to you, liked being around you, liked your incesant teasing.

The song ended and the next one started up again, but neither of you moved away. Somehow so starved for physical contact, you were drunk on one another's touch, swaying gently in the dark. "We shouldn't--" Javier tried to speak but you interrupted him.

"Stop with the should or should not, Javi. It's too late for that."

"Why did you invite me in?" Javier figured it was worth asking, just to be sure.

"Why did you show up at my apartment, uninvited, in the middle of the night?"

"Fuck," Javier cursed under his breath. "I'm tired of this. Your half-answers, my unanswered questions, dancing, literally dancing, around whatever truth there is between us. I just want to know what you're thinking and it's impossible to tell."

You were taken aback. You had been so preoccupied deciphering Javier for yourself you'd forgotten he was probably trying to do the same with you. The look in his eyes was desperate, needy, and untamed.

The sensible thing to do would be to kick him out, to end it here because this wasn't right. It wasn't professional. And it was breaking your biggest rule: never sleep with the customer. But you were anything but sensible with a drink swirling around your veins.

You pushed Javier away gently, and he looked slightly crestfallen before he saw what you did next. The drink may have given you a boost of confidence, but this desire was all your own. With a gentle tug at the tie of your robe, you let it fall from your shoulders, the silk pooling at your feet as you stood bare before him. Javier was frozen in place, but then his eyes widened in surprise before raking up and down your body unabashedly.

"Well, I guess that's some type of answer," he whispered. The clock ticked on the wall, counting down the moments.

"Your move, Javi." Your words stoked the flame in his heart that you'd lit so many weeks ago. But his brain struggled to keep up, still in shock at the sudden sight of you naked for him and him alone. He wanted to take in every inch of you and ravish you all at the same time.

Javier reached out a hand, hesitating slightly as if unsure if you were real or just a golden vision before him. In the dim light from the kitchen, you seemed to glow, wild hair swept behind your shoulders, chest rising and falling with anticipation. Finally, Javier's fingers made contact with your skin, the back of his knuckles gently grazing the plane of your stomach. You trembled when he finally offered you his touch, goosebumps following the path of his hand as he moved up your body toward the curve of your breast. His thumb brushed across your nipple, causing you to gasp and nearly jump out of your skin. But his hand didn't linger, instead tracing the lines of your sternum to your collarbone and up your neck.

Javier's hand found its place on your cheek, his thumb sweeping across the ridge of your cheekbone. You closed your eyes softly, relishing in the sensation of his skin on yours. His hand was calloused but surprisingly smooth, as if worn by years of the same work. You turned your face toward his hand, pressing your lips to his palm.

You kept your eyes closed, expecting him to kiss you, your lips burning with apprehension. But the kiss didn't come, only the soft sounds of him moving and his hand leaving your face. You opened your eyes, worried he'd changed his mind and was leaving you there vulnerable to the world.

Instead, you found him kneeled before you, like a subject before his queen.

A shiver had run down Javier's spine when you'd kissed his palm as he pictured placing his own lips to yours. But something about the way you looked in that moment, ethereal, celestial, divine, forced him to his knees in worship. He wanted to taste every inch of you, learn every curve and crevasse of your body. You were just as beautiful--no, even more beautiful--than he'd imagined alone in his bed at night. And here you were, offering up that smooth skin, those thighs, those lips. And he would fucking worship you.

One hand found your waist, gripping gently but firmly to hold you in place. The other pulled a knee over his shoulder, causing you to stumble forward and forcing you to grab onto Javier for stability. But his hands held you firmly as his fingers sunk into the flesh of your ass, pulling you closer to his face, mouth sinking into you fluttering lips.

You gasped, fingers tangling into Javier's unruly hair and holding on tight, the sensation of his tongue against your clit making your legs go weak. A groan came from between your thighs, sending vibrations through your core and twisting your stomach into knots.

"Fuck, just like I imagined," Javier mumbled under his breath.

Like he'd imagined?

"You've pictured this?" you managed to ask between breaths. You could barely speak, the moans tumbling from your mouth leaving little oxygen in your lungs for anything else.

"Amor, you send me to sleep at night and wake me up in the morning."

Oh mierda, his tongue was continuing to swirl around your clit, leaving you unable to control your thoughts or your movements. Your hips shifted of their own accord, grinding against Javier's face as he ate you out. At some point, he would need to come up for air, but for now, he was perfectly content to suffocate between your captivating legs, drinking in your scent and swallowing the taste of you.

Javier was guiding you languidly toward your climax, savoring every shudder and twitch he pulled from you. The muscles of your pelvic floor seized and you let out a delirious moan. The tension that preceded your orgasm curled up through your stomach and into your lungs, drawing the strength from your limbs. Suddenly unable to hold up your upper half, let alone stabilize your legs, you slumped forward, chin hanging heavily against your chest, hands sliding down Javier's back and gripping the fabric of his shirt.

"Javi, please, I can't hold on." You needed to sit, lay down, anything, before you collapsed in ecstasy here in the living room. At your words, Javier picked up the pace, taking you from a gradual climb to a swift ascent. His acceleration told you everything you needed to know. Come for him, and he'd take you to the bedroom.

So you did, your orgasm shuddering through you at a staggering pace. It rushed through you, searing and urgent, and something told you this was only the beginning. A warm-up of sorts, leaving you unable to stand yet shivering for more. The last waves of your orgasm spread through you, Javier drinking them from you until your trembling subsided and your breathing came back to normal. He caught you as you eased back into your body, picking you up by the waist and slinging you over his shoulder. You giggled at the sudden change of perspective, now hanging upside down with an excellent view of Javier's ass.

"What are you doing?"

Javier didn't answer.

With a flop, you landed on the bed on your back. Javier stood over you, taking in the sight of you. Little did he know, you were doing the same, even though he was still fully clothed. You sat up on the edge of the bed and tugged at his shirt, pulling it from his tight jeans. Javier undid the buttons, letting out a soft groan as you took advantage of his proximity to palm the bulge in his pants. You wanted a taste.

His shirt now discarded, you worked at the button of Javier's jeans, placing a soft kiss on his stomach as you tugged them down. No underwear, why weren't you surprised? Javier's fingers curled into your hair, taking hold with a gentle yet solid grip as you freed his cock from confinement, precum leaking from the swollen head.

You looked up through your eyelashes, wanting to watch Javier's face as you swiped your tongue across the tip of his length, savoring the taste and earning a strangled moan from Javier's mouth. His eyes sunk shut and the image of you in the diner, licking the grease from your fingers danced behind his eyelids. He realized he was about to have that fantasy fulfilled, about to know exactly what your tongue could do.

The expression on Javier's face and his tightening hands in your hair made your stomach flutter. The absolute control you held over this man was ten times more satisfying than manipulating those men in the bistro because you were enjoying this too. Lightly, you dragged your tongue up his quivering cock, causing Javier to buck his hips and let out a hiss of dissatisfaction.

"Mierda, princesa, you gonna take me or just make me beg for it all night."

"You know I like to tease you, Javi." But the time for teasing was over. With one hand wrapped around him, you took him into your mouth, lowering your head as far as your gag reflex would let you. You began to move slowly, Javier's hands still in your hair and guiding your movements. Your other hand reached up and fondled his balls, pinching and massaging the tender skin. The sensation sent Javier hurtling toward the edge and he began to thrust into your mouth, matching your pace. It was good, too good. He was going to cum soon if you kept going.

Suddenly, Javier pulled away with a grunt, panting your name.

"Fuck, princesa, you're gonna finish me off fast like that." His voice was ragged with hunger. He wanted to taste you again, feel himself inside you as you came. "I'm not done with you yet."

Javier untangled his hands from your hair and placed them tenderly on your shoulders before pushing you back onto the bed again. He grabbed your ankles and hooked them over his shoulders, giving him full access to your cunt which was aching in anticipation of his cock, the size of which you had just fucked with your mouth.

You could feel the heat of him, so close, but Javier took his time, kissing his way down your thighs, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin until your legs shook. And still, he didn't slip inside you, instead caressing the tenderness of your stomach with his mouth. He'd kissed all the way up your body, from the jut of your hip bones to the freckle below your bellybutton to the supple fullness of your breasts. Javier's attentions left you squirming under his touch, but he wasn't done. He wanted to taste every inch of your exposed skin, both salty and sweet under his tongue.

Suddenly, Javier's touch left your body and he flipped you over. You squealed at the abrupt movement, your face in the pillows and hands gripping the sheets. Behind you came the sound of a condom opening. And then you could feel Javier hovering above you, his cock teasing your entrance, one hand on your hip and the other in your hair. And then his voice spoke next to your ear.

"Are you ready, princesa?" Javier asked, his voice heady and ragged.

"Fuck me, Javi." That was all the invitation he needed. Without a moment's hesitation, Javier lined himself up with your entrance and slammed into you. Your gasp of surprise, and all the screams that followed, dissipated into the pillows, muting the sounds that you knew would have been heard by the neighbors otherwise.

Javier crashed into you again, stretching and filling you more with each thrust. He started slow, savoring the feeling of your walls clenching around him. The hand in your hair pulled your head back, releasing the sounds trapped in the pillow to mingle with Javier's moans. The hand at your waist wrapped around to find your clit, his calloused fingers teasing the delicate bud, and Javier leaned over to run his tongue up your spine, chasing the shivers he was causing.

The combination of sensations, his tongue on your skin, fingers on your clit, cock buried deep in your pussy, built you again toward orgasm. You rose up onto all fours, trying to find that angle you knew would hit your g-spot, and Javier seemed to understand. He began to thrust harder and faster, rushing toward the edge he had narrowly avoiding sailing over when his dick had been in your mouth. But this was better, so much better. Javier's untangled his hand from your hair and wrapped his arm around your chest, lifting you so you were on your knees and pressed flush against his back.

This was it, the perfect angle. A tumble of incoherent Spanish curses flew from your mouth as Javier reached up to squeeze your tit in his large hand.

"Fuck, Javi, right there," you mumbled in between breaths. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

"Cum for me, princesa," Javier growled into your ear. "I won't cum until you do."

Javier's tongue flicked along your neck and up toward your ear, where he nibbled lightly. He thrust, deep and strong, into your trembling pussy and you came, in a searing white light of ecstasy. You choked out your sounds of pleasure, unable to breathe properly. As your walls clenched around his cock, your orgasm rushing in waves against him, Javier could hold it no longer. With a groan, he fell apart, grunting your name over and over as his twitching member spasmed inside you.

The two of you held still for a moment, unwilling and unable to move. Finally, Javier slipped out of you, leaving you feeling cold and empty. It didn't last long, however. Javier laid on the bed and pulled you down with him, holding you close to his chest. You curled against him, relishing in the warmth of his skin against the cool breeze drifting in through the open window.

"I have to admit, this isn't how I thought my night would end," Javier said. You giggled, still high on the euphoria of your second orgasm. The dopamine that clouded your brain began to clear and you looked into Javier's face, the tension and worry absent and replaced with a languid look of satisfaction and pleasure.

And then you realized something that made you sit straight up in bed. "You bastard," you said accusingly, pointing a finger at Javier's chest. He dragged a hand across his face.

"Oh mierda, what did I do now?"

"You never even kissed me."

It was true. He hadn't. He'd been so preoccupied with tasting the rest of you he'd failed to do the one thing he actually desired most.

"Alright, that's a valid accusation," Javier said, dragging you back down and rolling on top of you, pinning you to the bed. "I am a bastard, a lucky one."

Finally, with one hand on your face and the other lacing his fingers in yours, Javier kissed you. A real, proper kiss, teeth scraping your bottom lip and tongue gliding along yours. He kissed you until he could hold his breath no longer and then came back for more, tasting of your orgasm and the shared cigarette. At last, he pulled away and buried his face in your neck.

You pulled the covers up and over the two of you. And then you wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding him to your chest as tightly as you could.

"Have any plans for tomorrow?" you asked.

Javier grinned into your shoulder. "Ready for round two already?"

"Only if we get to sleep in first."

"Anything for you, princesa."

#narcos #narcos fanfiction #javier pena #pedro pascal #"javi smut #javier pena x reader #I just want to dance with Javi is that too much to ask #reader #xreader

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 4

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,700ish

Summary: Your new roommates annoy you and Steve presses your buttons.

(I do not own Marvel or Grey’s Anatomy.)

Val, Scott, and Clint had been living at your place for almost two days, when you woke up to Val standing at the foot of your bed.

“Aaah!” You exclaimed, jumping slightly.

“Clint’s room is bigger than mine,” Val complained. You got out of bed, quickly tripping as Val continued, “I have more clothes, I should have the bigger room.”

You let out a groan as you picked yourself up off the floor and headed out of your room. Only to be met with Clint as well.

“I got here first,” Clint stated.

“It’s Y/N’s house, she should decide,” Val said. You continued down the hall, heading downstairs to the kitchen.

“My room is like, two inches bigger than yours!”

“You have a bigger closet!”

“So? Why is everything always a competition? I think that you can put your clothes somewhere else!”

“Everywhere else is filled with Y/N’s parent’s boxes.”

“Y/N? What are you going to do with all this stuff anyway?” You entered the kitchen to see that Scott had made breakfast. “Because maybe we can put some of the boxes in storage.”

“Or we could unpack a few things,” Scott suggested, handing you a plate of food and a cup of coffee. “Make this place a little more homey. Maybe some throw pillows and lamps, a few paintings.”

“Oh, paintings would be nice.”

“A quiet morning before work would be nice,” you muttered into your coffee, having sat down at the table.

“Yeah!” Val agreed with Clint and Scott. “You have all this amazing stuff just packed away. In the back hall, I found this box with like a hundred tapes of someone performing these amazing medical procedures.”

“Really?” Scott questioned. “We should watch them. Y/N, do you want to—“ You got up from the table, quickly leaving with your coffee in hand. “Wait, where are you going?” Your roomies followed you.

“Y/N,” Clint called. “We’re just trying to help. We could unpack for you.”

“Yeah,” Val added. “You wouldn’t have to do—“ You slammed your bedroom door in their faces.

“Y/N?” Clint whispered. “Do you want some privacy?”

You sighed as you slumped against the door. You were beginning to regret this whole roommate thing.

~~~

When you interns arrived at the hospital later that morning, you were immediately told to head to the pit (the ER). You were all helping each other suit up (gowns, gloves, etc.) while you talked.

“Fools on bikes killing themselves,” Gamora grumbled. “Natural selection is what it is.”

“So what’s up with Gamora?” Peter questioned quietly. “Is she off her meds?”

“You’ve never heard of the race?” Clint asked. Peter shook his head. “Every year this bar—“

“—The HYDRA Bar—“ you cut in.

“Yeah. Every year, they hold this underground bike race.”

“The race is completely illegal,” Scott added. “And—“

“Crazy,” you interrupted. “A bunch of bike messengers racing against traffic trying to beat each other for free shots of tequila.”

“All-out, no holds barred competition,” Peter said, “sounds like fun.”

“Yeah,” Val scoffed. “You would think that.”

“The race doesn’t even have any rules,” Clint added. “Except eye gouging—no eye gouging.”

“Oh great,” Natasha murmured. “We're going to be trapped in the Pit bandaging up idiots when we could be up in the OR?”

“What kind of people engage in a race that has, as its only rule, that you can't rip out the eyeballs of another human being?” Scott wondered.

“Men, Scottie,” Peter responded. “Men.”

“I need someone to get up to the OR floor,” Gamora stated loudly. “The Chief needs a right hand.” You all shot up your hands. “Clint.”

“Yes!” Clint exclaimed, rushing away.

“Okay people, the rules of trauma. Don't mingle with the ER interns, they don't know their ass from their esophagus. Sew fast, discharge fast, take bodies up to the OR yesterday. Don't let me catch you fighting over patients. Got it? Come on, let's go.”

You interns rushed into the ER, seeing injured bikers everywhere.

“Oh, it’s like candy,” Natasha commented. “But with blood, which is so much better.”

Val and Natasha quickly started bickering about a biker that was just wheeled in. You looked around, trying to find an interesting case to jump on to.

“Ooh,” you said after seeing a guy with nails in his side. “I’ll take that guy.”

“No, you’ll have to beat me to him first,” Peter responded. You both ran to him, getting there at the same time. Peter pulled the curtain closed between them and the patient. “Heads he’s mine, tails he’s yours.” He fished out a coin from his pocket.

“Why do you get to be heads?”

“Because I have a head, and you are tail.”

“Excuse me! How do you make everything dirty?” Peter flipped it. “Ha. Tails. There are plenty of other cases.”

“So go get one. I was here first.”

“I am not backing down so I can do sutures all day while you're up in the OR. This is a surgical case, and you know it.”

“It's superficial. I mean, it's cool, but it's superficial.”

“How do you know those things didn't rupture his peritoneum?”

“Because he's sitting up, and he's sitting there talking to us!”

The patient pulled the curtain back. “Allo,” he said with an accent. “Excuse me, I was wondering if you could take these out, and sew me up, so I can go and win my race?”

“Well, we can’t just pull them out,” you told him. “I mean, we ought to—“ Peter quickly started ripping the nails out of the mans side. “—do some tests—“

“Oh, wicked.” The man smiled with a nod, grimacing a little with each pull.

“Are you out of your mind?!”

“it’s a superficial wound,” Peter said, handing the nails over to you. “Sew him up, and let him finish his race.” Peter walked away.

“You—you— ugh!”

“Good man,” the patient commented.

“Just, don’t move while I go get something to sew that up.”

“Of course, darlin’.”

You huffed in annoyance as you left to grab a suture kit. Coming back, you realized that the patient had been watching you the whole time, clearly checking you out. Which only made you more annoyed. Not that the guy wasn’t attractive, you just started the day feeling annoyed. You led him to a trauma room and cleaned the wound before beginning to sew it up.

“The name’s Hunter, by the way,” the patient stated.

“Hunter?” You repeated as you tried to concentrate on what you were doing. “Okay.”

“Hey! Don’t diss!”

“Not dissing, just concentrating.”

“Ah, you got a nice touch,” Hunter commented as you pulled another stitch. “And by the way, you are a rocking babe.”

“Seriously, do you actually think you have a shot here?”

“I like to think I've got a shot everywhere.”

“Look, you really have to let me take you for some tests, and a CT. You could have internal bleeding.”

“No thank you. I’ve got a race to get back to.”

You finished up the last stitch and stood up so that you could be face to face with him. “Why? You can't win now anyway.”

“Doesn't mean I can't cross that finish line. There's a party at the finish line. Do you want to meet me there?”

“One test. A CT. I'll have you out of here in an hour.”

“Can't do it, gotta go.”

“Okay, well, you realize that you're leaving against medical advice and I strongly urge you to stay.”

“The frat guy said I could go.”

“The frat guy is an ass. Okay, well, you have to sign an AMA form.” You reached behind you and grabbed a clipboard with the form.

“Darlin', I will do anything you want me to.”

“What is it with you guys and your need to dirty everything up?”

“I don't know. Maybe it's just testosterone, eh?”

“Maybe. You might want to see a doctor about that, too.”

“Come here.” He took the form, quickly signing it. “There.”

He handed the form back before getting up. Hunter took a few steps towards the door before spinning around. He grabbed you and kissed you.

“That was for good luck,” he whispered, walking away backwards. “Don’t worry, darlin’, you’ll see me again.” He left the room.

“For your sake, I hope not!” You called after him.

Shaking your head, you began to strip the bed. You couldn’t help the feeling though, that you were being watched. Looking up, you saw Steve standing outside the door.

“What do you want?” You asked as Steve entered the room.

“You make out with patients now?”

You looked up at him with a small smirk. “What are you jealous?”

“I don’t get jealous.”

“We had sex, once.”

“And we kissed, in an elevator.”

“And we kissed in an elevator, once!”

“No, seriously, I mean come on, go out with me.”

“No.”

“You know, I almost died today.” You gave him a questioning look. “Yeah, I came like this close.” He gestured with his hands, a small gap between his finger and thumb. “How would you feel if I died? And you didn’t get a chance to go out with me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Get over yourself already.” You headed for the door.

“Come on.” Steve followed you.

You spun around. “It’s the chase, isn't it?”

“What?”

“The thrill of the chase. I've been wondering to myself, why are you so hell bent on getting me to go out with you? You know you're my boss, you know it's against the rules, you know I keep saying no. It's the chase.”

“Well, it’s fun. Isn’t it?”

“Yes see?” You waved a finger at him. “This is a game to you. But not to me. Because unlike you, I still have something to prove.”

You took your leave, hurrying to find another patient in need.

~~~

You were walking past a patient room when you heard Val call your name.

“Y/N!” You rushed in. “He’s crashing.”

“Well, what the hell are you doing?” You asked her. “Call code!”

“I can’t. I’m not supposed to, he’s brain dead.”

“Well Val, if he’s brain dead, you have to let him go.”

“No. It's only been five hours and thirty-three minutes, he's supposed to get six hours.”

“Well, we can't do anything to make him live, it's not our place to make that call.”

“He's a person, we're doctors, we should have every right to make that call. We can't just stand here and do nothing while he dies. He has a right to the next twenty-seven minutes.”

“Screw it. I’ll get the dopamine, you get the blood. We’ll transfuse him.”

You and Val worked together to save the guy, with Natasha coming in to help. After you got him stable, you and Val decided to take a walk.

“He’s stable,” you stated, walking up the stairs.

“For now,” Natasha said, coming down the stairs. “I had a radiologist look at his chest, apparently he has a traumatic aortic injury. He's going to rupture and bleed out.”

“So he needs surgery,” Val said.

“If he's going to remain a viable organ donor, yeah.”

“If he's going to live.”

“Val…”

“No! I’m not giving up on him. He has the surgery, he lives longer, that's the point. So I'm going to help find the family, you guys find a way to get him into surgery.” Val continued up the stairs.

“She’s vice-president of fantasyland.”

“So who do we go to?” You asked. “Gamora?”

“No, we need to go higher than Gamora.” Nat and you followed Val up the stairs.

You came to the conclusion that you needed to talk to Banner. You found him entering the men’s restroom.

“Let’s just wait until he’s done,” you suggested.

“No,” Natasha said. “Just open the door and talk to him.”

“Are you for real?” Natasha and Val pushed you into the door. “Dr. Banner?” You nervously called into the mens bathroom.

“Hello?!” Banner exclaimed.

“Okay…” you quickly closed the door. “Yeah… nope.”

Natasha pushed you aside and opened the door. “Dr. Banner, I know you’re busy, but our John Doe needs an aortic repair.”

“The guy from this morning?” Banner questioned, still doing his business. “Isn’t he legally dead?”

“Well, yeah, he's kinda still around? We gave him two units PRBCs and put him on pressers.”

“On whose orders?”

Natasha shut the door, giving you a look before forcing you to open it.

“Mine,” you squeaked.

“You gave a brain-dead John Doe a blood transfusion without consulting anyone. And now you want me to repair his heart.”

“Well, yes,” Natasha replied.

“You do enjoy crossing the line, don’t you?” Banner moved to wash his hands.

“He is an excellent candidate for organ donation,” you added.

“I am a surgeon. I save lives. This guy is already dead. Now, this is the men's room. Either whip one out or close the door.”

With a sigh, you closed the door and started walking away. As you did so, you got an idea.

“I think I’m going to regret this,” you mumbled. “I have an idea. Just… I’ll page you after I find an answer.”

You quickly left in search of Steve. You found him in a hallway and pulled him aside. You explained the situation, with him actively listening.

“You're asking my advice?” Steve questioned.

“Yes,” you responded with a nod.

“Now who’s chasing?” He teased.

“Not funny. This is important.”

“Okay. You want to get around Banner? You gotta find a way to get the Chief involved.”

“Okay—”

“And agree to go out with me?”

“Nope. Not happening.” You turned around.

“You’ll cave, eventually!” He called after you. “I’ll get her.”

~~~

At lunch, you, Val, and Natasha ran into Clint. He was in the middle of eating a sandwich when the three of you came up to him, standing in a line, staring.

“What’d I do?” He asked, food in his mouth.

“How close a match for the liver is your guy to our John Doe?” Val asked.

“Very.” Clint swallowed. “Same type, same size. UNOS couldn't find a better match, why?”

“And he's the Chief's VIP, right?” You asked.

“Right.”

“How much would you kill to be in on a transplant surgery?” Natasha asked.

“You underestimate me. I'm not a baby, I'm your colleague. You don't have to manipulate me, if you want something, all you have to do is ask.”

“We want you to go over Banner's head to the chief,” Val said.

“Ask me something easier.”

~~~

With a bit of persuasion, Clint finally caved in. Val, Natasha, and you watched from down the hallway Clint stop the Chief.

“Sir?” Clint called.

“Barton,” Fury turned around. “How’s Jackson?”

“Fine. Sir, actually, that's what I want to talk to you about. I-I kind of think that— we— uh, me, and the other interns, we think— we’re— we're not—“

“Barton, I’m not getting any younger.”

“We found Jackson a liver.”

“We are so going to hell,” you muttered. “Banner’s sending us straight to hell.”

“On an express train,” Val added.

“If it works,” Natasha said.

Peter came up to them. “What are you doing?” He asked.

“Nothing,” the three of you responded in unison.

Peter noticed that you were watching Clint and Fury. So he began watching too. Banner walked past but Fury quickly stopped him, adding him to the conversation.

“Yes,” Val grinned.

Fury left soon after, leaving Banner to give Clint a questioning look. Clint immediately followed after Fury. Banner turned to look at the rest of you.

“Oh, crap,” Natasha muttered.

You three hurried away, leaving Peter. Peter quickly went after Banner.

“Dr. Banner! Dr. Banner!”

~~~

You found out through the OR board that Peter had been chosen to assist Dr. Banner in the surgery. You and Natasha were extremely irritated. You all sat up in the gallery, watching the surgery.

“I seriously hate that guy,” Natasha said.

“Peter is vermin,” you added in agreement. “That surgery is ours.”

“At least Banner is doing the surgery. I don't care about Peter,” Val said. “Clint? You did good.”

“I'm going to have to dodge Banner for the rest of my career,” Clint said, shaking his head. “He could kill me and make it look like an accident.”

“Now that would make an interesting Dateline,” Scott said.

“Really, Scott?” You questioned, trying to suppress a laugh. “That’s the first thing you go to?”

“Hey! You can’t deny that you wouldn’t watch it.”

~~~

After the surgery, it was time to go home. You had just changed out of your scrubs and were grabbing a few things from your locker when Peter waltzed in.

“Oh, I smell good,” he commented. “You know what it is?” He turned to you. “It’s the smell of open heart surgery.” He breathed in deeply. “It's awesome. It is awesome. You gotta smell me.” He came up behind you, leaning into you.

“I don’t want to smell you,” you retorted.

“Oh, yes you do.” He nuzzled into your hair.

You quickly spun around and grabbed him, pushing him against the lockers by his shirt. “You have got to be kidding me! Okay. I have more important things to deal with than you. I have roommates, and boy problems, and family problems.” Peter yawned, glancing around. “You want to act like a little frat boy bitch, that's fine. You want to take credit for your saves, and everybody else's? That's fine too. Just stay out of my face.” As Steve opened the door, you grabbed Peter by the chin, making him look at you. “And for the record, you smell like crap.”

You turn, finally seeing Steve. You go back to your locker. Steve motioned as if to say, what happened?”

“She attacked me,” Peter said, pointing at you.

You spun back around to really attack him.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Steve rushed over, grabbing your arms and pushing you back. He turned to Peter. “You know, you might want to leave. Before I change my mind and let her beat you to a pulp with her tiny ineffectual fists.”

He let go of you to push Peter out the door. As Steve closed the door, Peter pulled a face at you, how mature. Steve sighed. You studied him, getting more stupid feelings for him by the second.

“What?” Steve wondered.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, turning to pull your jacket out of your locker. “It’s just…” You gave him another long look, him nodding encouragingly. “Nothing.”

You closed your locker and made your way to the door. Steve opened it for you. You looked at him again for a few seconds before striding away. He looked up at the ceiling with a sigh.

“I’m telling you, Rogers,” Stark commented as he leaned against the wall across from the door. “Not a good idea.”

“How the hell are you around every damn time?!” Steve exclaimed.

Tony laughed. “Honestly, I think I may have a gift for sensing everyone else’s stupid decisions but my own.”

“Well, can you stop sensing mine?!”

“Sorry, Steve. You’re the only one making stupid decisions currently."

~~~

All you wanted was your bed. And a quiet house. When you got home, Val, Clint, and Scott were already there. They were in the living room, sitting on the floor while going through a box of tapes.

“Ooh, this one is skin grafting!” Val said, pulling out a tape.

“Skin grafting? No way!” Scott responded, taking the tape from her. “I've never seen that done before.”

“Are those my parent’s surgical tapes?” You asked, bring there attention to you.

“We should watch the skin grafting one first,” Clint said.

You looked around the room. There were pieces of furniture and art that you had sworn were packed up this morning.

“Where did all this stuff come from?” You questioned.

“Oh, I unpacked some of the boxes,” Val replied. “I was upset, and when I'm upset I like to nest.”

“Same,” Clint and Scott added. You began taking down pictures.

“Oooh!” Val quickly grabbed another top. “Hemipelvectomy.”

“Let’s definitely watch that one first,” Scott said.

“No. No. We’re not watching my parent’s surgery tapes,” you quickly ripped the tapes from their hands, “we’re not unpacking boxes,” you motioned to the boxes around the room, “and we’re not having long conversations where we celebrate the moments of our lives!” You slammed the tapes on the coffee table. You grabbed the beer bottle that sat on the table and slammed it onto a coaster. “And use a damn coaster!” You turned to leave.

“I ordered Chinese food…”

You marched up the stairs. “I hate Chinese food!”

Here’s the thing… both of your parents were widely renowned surgeons. But they both died in a terrible accident almost a year ago. After that happened, you quickly changed your last name to one of your Grandmother’s maiden names. You didn’t want all the attention. You had already gotten so much through med school and have the accident, you didn’t want anymore.

~~~

You were grateful that your roommates didn’t bother you the rest of the night. And when it came time for work in the morning, you made sure to leave without them. You met up with Natasha in front of the hospital and walked in together.

“They're everywhere. All the time. Scott's all perky, and Clint does this thing where he's helpful and considerate, and Val just, I don’t know is Val!” You complained. “They share food and they say things and they move things, and they breathe.” You let out a little whimper. “They're like happy.”

“Kick them out,” Natasha responded.

“I can't kick them out. They just moved in. I asked them to move in.”

"So what, you're just going to repress everything into some deep dark twisted place until one day you snap and kill them?”

“Yep, basically.”

“This is why we are friends.”

Peter jogged up as they entered the hospital.

“Why is Gamora making us stay in the Pit two days in a row?” He asked.

“Leftovers,” you replied.

“Leftovers?”

“Gotta get the cyclists who were too drunk or too stupid or too scared to get themselves to a hospital yesterday.”

“While meanwhile, she gets to do a freakin' organ harvest.” He motioned to Natasha.

“Oh, that kills you, doesn’t it?” She smirked.

“What?”

“That two women got the harvest.” You three stopped in front of the elevator.

“No, it kills me that anyone got the harvest but me. Boobs do not factor into this equation. Unless you want to show me yours.”

You and Natasha exchanged looks. “I’m going to become a lesbian,” you stated.

“Me too,” Natasha responded.

~~~

You and Peter tried to civilly work near each other in the Pit. As you filed away some patient paperwork, you glanced over at the waiting room. You did a double take after seeing your patient from yesterday, Hunter, waiting.

“What’s Hunter doing here?” You asked.

Peter glanced up at the waiting room before going back to what he was working on. “Probably crashed his bike,” he answered. “Again.”

“How long has he been waiting?”

"Don't know, I'm busy on real cases. He's all yours.”

You walked over to him. “Hunter? Hunter?” You noticed that he was holding his side, the injured side, as you came closer. He didn’t look at you as he started to cough. “Are you okay?” He tried to get up and you ran the rest of the way to him. Hunter fell, unconscious as blood came from his mouth. “Hunter!”

You got down next to him, lifting up his shirt. The stitches you did yesterday were ripped open and the area around them had swelled up. You quickly called for help, other nurses and doctors quickly came with a gurney. They helped lift Hunter on with you jumping on to sit on top of him. You tried to hold his wound closed as you turned at talked to a nurse.

“Call up to the OR and tell them we’re coming,” you ordered. “And page Dr. Gamora.”

“Right away,” the nurse replied, rushing off.

You noticed Peter staring at Hunter, a bit stunned. “Peter! Push the dam gurney.”

Peter quickly rushed into action.

“Clear the way!” The nurse with the two of you called. “Coming through!”

“Somebody get the elevator!” Peter yelled.

“Hurry,” you said. “I don't know how long I can keep this wound closed.”

The gurney is pushed into the elevator. You watched as the doors seem to slowly close. You and Peter watch as the level numbers light up.

“Move faster, damn it,” you muttered.

Finally, the doors reopened and the gurney was quickly taken into the OR.

“Well, this is a new one,” Gamora commented, ready and waiting in the OR. “Somebody get her off my patient.” A nurse helped you climb down. “Y/N, go get cleaned up and scrub in, Peter, get back downstairs.”

“Yeah, but I helped,” Peter defended.

“Helped! They tell me down in the Pit that you only want to take the hot cases. In every pack of interns there's always one fool that's running around trying to show off, and Peter, this time that fool is you. Get out.”

With an angry sigh, he left the OR. You quickly left after, going to clean up and scrub in.

~~~

After the surgery, you and Gamora were informed that Viper had friends waiting in the lobby for him. You two went out to talk to them.

“This lovely group's his friends. Uh, you all belong to—“ Gamora looked at you. “What’s his name?”

“Hunter” you answered.

“Hunter?”

“Yeah,” a man replied. “We were in the race.”

“How is he?” A woman stepped up. “Is he okay?”

“Is he okay?” Gamora repeated. “No. No, he is not okay, at all. He hurled his body down a concrete mountain at full speed for no good reason. Yeah, I know you all pierce yourselves and smoke up and generally treat your bodies like your grungy asses can't break down to A, you want to kill yourselves, flying down a concrete mountain, go to it, but there are other people walking, people driving, people trying live their lives on that concrete mountain, and one of them got his brains scrambled today because one of you little sniffling no-good snot-rag—“

“Doctor Gamora—“ you tried to stop her.

“Yeah, yeah so no, your friend Hunter, as far as I'm concerned, is not okay.” Gamora stalked off.

“She's, um, really tired, but, uh, Hunter's going to make it,” you said. “He’s gonna live.”

A chorus of “cools” and “thanks” were heard from he group. You stood there, awkwardly nodding for a few seconds too long before hurrying away.

~~~

At the end of the day, Steve found you in the locker room, alone. He came in, shutting the door behind him.

“It’s not the chase,” Steve stated, catching your attention.

“What?”

“You and me. It is not the thrill of the chase. It's not a game. It’s... it's your tiny ineffectual fists. And your hair.”

“My hair?”

“Smells good. And you're very, very bossy. Keeps me in line.”

“I’m still not going out with you.”

Steve smirked, opening the door back up. “You say that now.”

He leaned over and kissed your cheek, then he left. That man was for sure going to be the death of you. You could feel it.

~~~

When you arrived home, Val, Scott, Natasha, and Clint were in the living room, eating pizza, drinking, and watching a surgical tape.

"Okay, this is the best part, watch, this is where they pulls a block of skin down over the face,” Val said.

You cleared your throat. “Hi,” you said as they looked at you.

“We were— uh, we were just,” Scott stuttered.

“Natasha made us!” Clint quickly said.

“What are we watching?” You asked, coming into the room more. “Ooh.” You sat down and took some pizza. “This is the one where my mother—“

“Literally pulls this guy’s face off!” Val interrupted.

“Yeah.”

You nodded, looking around at your friends. There might be a small chance that you could get used to this.

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#steve rogers x reader #tony stark x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #clint barton x reader #valkyrie x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #scott lang x reader #peter quill x reader #gamora x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines

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masterkief · 4 years ago

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request: yo ryan and a female y/n are a couple and have s3x on the recording couch go

hiii @sweat-pantss I...I hope this okay and not too intense I’m just really foul and gross..🥴 and may or may not want ryan to do exactly all of this to me.

- -

When we got to the party it had been way past started. There were already people stumbling around drunk, the loud music throwing them all off balance. Looking around I realized I knew no one, until we were met by Ryan’s friends he did youtube shit with. We all greeted each other and I swear his best friend Matt hugged me longer than usual...the smell of gin seeping through his pores. Quickly shaking it off we split up, the boys heading somewhere while I made my way to the booze.

20 minutes or so later my head was shaking to the music bumping through the house; I was drunk already...way drunk. I sluggishly looked around the kitchen area for Ryan, my eyes heavy with tequila. Thinking I heard someone call my name I turned quickly (too quickly) only to stumble forward, my body landing against someone. When my eyes finally went straight I found myself standing face to face with Matt. I absentmindedly backed away, my back pressing against a nearby counter.

“Matt.” I sighed, “I’m so sorry.”

An odd hunger bubbled in his pupils forcing my eyes to widen a bit. I took a big slow sip from my cup, words escaping me.

“You look hella good Y/N.” He said bluntly.

My body shook violently and it took all I had not to choke on my drink. Taking another sip I mumbled a “thank you” into the cup; Matt acting out of character making me nervous. Without warning Matt managed to push himself up against me, his arms on either side of me so I couldn’t escape. I finally choked on my drink not being able to take it anymore and tried to push him away.

“Matt, what? Ryan...” My words came out jumbled, my breathing getting heavier.

He snickered and put a hand up to my neck, holding onto it gently. My teeth clenched onto my bottom lip and my eyes rolled into my head as I tried to hold onto my self-control.

“Awh come on Y/N fuck that guy.” He breathed, grinding his hips into me. “You could have m-...”

Matt was cut short by an unknown force ripping him from me. I jolted out of my inebriated stupidity, my eyes flying open to meet with a very pissed off looking Ryan.

“Ryan.” I barely got out.

His hands were balled into fists, his knuckles white. In one quick movement he was against me like Matt had been a moment ago.

“Recording room.” He growled, “Now.”

The anger in his voice quaked my entire body. Ryan got jealous here and there but this was a side of him I’d never seen.

Pushing me through the house, the trip up the steps was a total blur....my head swimming with the thought of what was going to happen next. Ryan slammed the door shut behind us, my nerves and emotions losing their shit.

“Do you love me?”

For a moment the wild fire that was burning through his eyes calmed. He backed away from me and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Yes Y/N I love you.” He groaned through gritted teeth.

Tilting my head back, I rested it against the wall behind me, my temper over this insanity growing thin.

“Then please just calm down Ryan.” I moaned, “Please?”

“Do you want him?”

His question caught me off guard. I snapped my head forward and stared at him in amazement.

“Ryan...I...” I stumbled nervously over my words. “No...what?”

Ryan snickered.

“I saw Matt all over you.” He continued, “And it didn’t look like you minded.”

My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I ran my fingers through my hair like Ryan had before; sliding down the wall to my butt.

“I didn’t exactly realize what was going on until it was too late.” I huffed.

Ryan turned away from me for a second before putting his fiery gaze back on me. A glaze of tears had coated his eyes and all I wanted to do was run to him but I felt like he’d just move away.

“Did you like it?” He asked out of nowhere, his voice shaking.

I swallowed hard and began chewing my bottom lip, his attitude changing so rapidly freaking me out.

“You did didn’t you?!” Ryan spat, angry again. “You fucking liked it!”

Silence hovered above us and I watched Ryan rack his brain for something else to say. Instead he rushed to me, his thighs suddenly in front of my eyes. I looked up at him slowly, his face twisted with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“Get up.” He ordered.

My eyebrows pulled together and my lips formed a straight line.

“Get. Up.” He said again between clenched teeth.

Stomach dropping, I hesitated a moment before slowly rising to my feet. Ryan put a hand against the wall next to my head, our faces only inches apart.

“Ryan...I...”

He took his other hand and put his index finger to my lips to quiet my stammering. I felt my head begin to spin from both the alcohol and his actions; my insides heating up. His finger remained on my lips while his other hand grabbed my neck.

“I saw the way you looked at him.” He breathed, “And I saw how he was looking at you.”

“Ryan please, he was wasted.” I sighed.

“Get on the couch.” He said, pulling me away from the wall.

Without a word I did as he said. Before I could sit though my body was thrown downward, my back to him. Taking my hands, he held them behind my back. I felt him behind me and shivered as he cautiously pressed himself into me.

“You’re mine Y/N.” He punctuated the word ‘mine’ by ramming into me harshly.

I leaned my head backward feeling faint and rested it on Ryan’s shoulder; his hand slipping around my neck. My eyes rolled and my breathing got even heavier.

“See you’re mine.” He purred in my ear.

He freed my hands that were still behind my back and used his hand to grab my waist, pulling me back into him. A moan built up in my throat but I refused to let it out.

“You acted like a little slut tonight Y/N.”

The way the word ‘slut’ rolled off his tongue threw my stomach into an uproar.

His mouth was now against my neck swirling circles on my skin with his tongue, nipping at it. All at once he forced me forward, my neck against the back of the couch; Ryan’s chest heaving up and down heavily against my spine.

“Tell me you want me.” He growled resting his forehead against the bottom on my neck.

I couldn’t find my voice at first but his sudden thrust against me stirred me. The moan I had been holding back finally burst from my mouth.

“Please Ryan.” I pleaded, “I need you, I want you.”

Ryan chuckled breathlessly against my skin and in one swift movement ripped my jeans down to my ankles, completely exposing me to him. Gripping my ass, he squeezed it for a second before breaking his touch from me completely. I heard him pulling his shorts down and before long he was pulling me back into him by my neck. His other hand that was resting against my back quickly slammed down against the bare skin of my ass; my body trembling as I called out.

Thank god this room was soundproof.

Ryan and I have had sex plenty of times but never like this. He kept his grip tight around my neck as he pushed himself inside me. My eyes flew open as he slid all the way in and a smile formed on my lips as he pumped me. I could almost feel the brash grin on his face which was almost enough to make me cum alone. With his free hand he lifted one of my legs, holding it that way so that he could get even deeper.

“Christ Ryan. Harder.”

My words worked him up harder and he continued a fast pace; bringing me closer to my anticipated finish.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He demanded.

I got tighter as he went the fact that he was dominating me putting me at a loss for words. Ryan slammed into me as hard as possible and pulled on my neck again; his mouth connecting sloppily to my jaw.

“Tell me Y/N.” He demanded again.

“I’m yours Ryan, I’m yours.” I cried, gasping for air.

Ryan slumped forward and released my leg, his mouth now breathing hard against my ear as he continued to have his way with me. He whispered more obscenities into my ear and I was completely done for. I pulsated around him and knew he was going to cum soon too. He pulled me into him more, pushing violently against my ass until he groaned a breathy ‘fuck’ and collapsed next to me on the couch. Going to my knees first, I then fell over onto my back and put my head on his lap.

“Ryan you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.” I assured finally once my brain caught up with me.

“So you don’t want Matt?”

I inhaled deeply and reached up to pinch his cheek.

“No Ry, I want you.” I smiled, “Only you.”

“Promise me forever?” He asked holding my hand in place against his face.

I chuckled softly and stoked his jaw with my thumb.

“I promise.”

#request #requests #ryan magee fic #ryan magee imagine #ryan magee oneshot #ryan magee x reader #matt watson x reader #supermega fic #supermega oneshot #supermega x reader

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vanderlindemangofarm · 5 years ago

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The Van der Linde Gang - Jobs in a Modern AU

I’ve been really inspired to write about this lately and I’d love to hear your takes! These are the occupations that I think each gang member would have in a modern AU. Some were more challenging than others, but hopefully you guys can see where I’m coming from with each!

Arthur: Film location scout. His natural eye for photography and framing makes Arthur the perfect member of a pre-production team. His no-bullshit approach to everything means he keeps to deadlines, although he’s known to go wandering off into the wilderness for unknown amounts of time. He enjoys the lone working side of his job and finding exactly the right spots that would make the film come to life. He doesn’t always like the films once they’re finished (in fact he’s often bought cinema tickets and walked out half way through, grumbling that it wasn’t worth the popcorn) but he can’t deny the excited buzz he gets every time he gets hired. In his early years as an assistant he met Bertie Mason, a nervous but talented photography intern. Despite an ill-advised hookup after a week joined at the hip they have remained close friends and still go out on shoots together.

John: landscape gardener. John? Flowers? Yes, alright, I found it hard to believe too. But look, it’s not about the flowers, even if he does get misty-eyed at the sight of a sunflower in the early morning light. It’s about the challenge, the outdoors, and solving problems. After all the renovations he did to his house and garden (some more successful than others) John found how much satisfaction he got from digging and reshaping and planting. Don’t get me wrong, he’s often without a shirt, even in the colder months, much to the delight of some and the horror of others. He always makes friends with the household pets and is wonderful with the kids, always dropping his task to throw a frisbee around for a bit or cheekily accept an ice cold glass of lemonade from their mothers. Whenever he drives past one of his projects he feels himself glowing with pride - “I did that!”.

Dutch: philosophy lecturer. As always, late with Starbucks. Will he actually grade your essay? Will it mysteriously disappear? Keeps you on your toes, doesn’t it? Sitting precariously on the very edge of his desk, leather jacket hanging off his shoulders and losing his balance every 15 minutes, Dr Van der Linde is nothing short of a wonder. For the love of all that is holy, do not get him started on Kant. Kant has no place here. You want to talk about your precious Kant? Get your butt down to Dr O’Driscoll’s class, he has plenty to say about Kant. Perhaps a little too fond of Socrates. Plato who? Completely illegible handwriting and definitely sleeping with several members of the faculty. But somehow his students always walk away with excellent grades. At the end of each term Dutch takes everyone out to a local bar for drinks, insists on buying tequila which no one really fancies at 11am. Claims to ride a motorcycle called The Count which no one has actually seen. Impossible to hate, and he writes everyone great references for their summer internships.

Hosea: social worker. In a crisis, there’s no one better to knock on your door. Hosea has seen it all and he’ll see it all again, but that doesn’t stop him from treating every single case he gets with the upmost respect and care. His no-nonsense approach to his work means he gets things done, but he never sacrifices his compassion. He mostly works with teenagers and has a way of being able to connect to each individual without coming across as patronising. He’s been in the field for over two decades and is an invaluable mentor for any newcomers, always willing to share a word or two of advice or be a shoulder to cry on.

Javier: guitar teacher and music therapist. During his worst years, Javier’s guitar was his lifeline. And he wants to help others find their lifeline, too. He works on a freelance basis, mainly going into mental health hospitals, schools and prisons. He runs workshops focusing on guitar playing, but brings other instruments (mainly percussion) to try too. He’s a gentle teacher, always with a joke in his back pocket for when you need it most. He has nicknames for everyone and remembers everything they’ve ever told him. He’s patient and never lets anyone feel bad for making a mistake. Javier also runs an after-school guitar club at the local middle school alongside playing his own music at gigs whenever he can. No, he doesn’t reply to DMs no matter how thirsty they are.

Sadie: self-defense instructor. After surviving an attack several years ago, Sadie used her ferocity to get her qualification in self-defense to teach other women how to fight back should they need to. Her husband Jake helps out in her classes, happily allowing himself to be thrown around and slammed onto the mat as many times as required. Her students are terrified of her in the best and nicest way. Sadie also volunteers at a women’s refuge, providing emergency care and taking phone calls.

Charles: environmental campaign manager. Charles has always been drawn to charities and started doing voluntary work for Greenpeace when he was at university, securing an internship with them in Canada which led to a full time job. Whilst Charles mainly hosts meetings and organises events, he also works closely with elementary schools and runs workshops with outdoor activities, crafts and music. Last week they made bird feeders! It was awesome. He’s also a keen activist and regularly meets up with Javier to go to protests and community events, most recently for BLM.

Micah: motorcycle mechanic. Micah is massively invested in motorcycle culture and treats his beloved bike better than his own mother, if he still spoke to her. Although he pretends not to care, fixing bikes is his greatest passion and almost looks...happy when he’s doing it? Maybe? He likes knowing more than the people who stop by his shop and makes sure they know it. Occasionally he leaves his number on a scrap of paper inside women’s handbags when they’re not looking but for some reason none of them call. Like it or not, he’s incredibly skilled and will have your motorcycle singing a tune if that’s what you want. Euphemism? Of course not.

Abigail: nurse. She was so shy when she realised she wanted to pursue nursing - would people laugh at her? Was she too impatient, too nagging, too shrill? Her dyslexia always put her off going into further education and she was always discouraged by her parents. But with lots of encouragement from Hosea (who helped her to fill out her applications and other forms) and her friends, Abigail went to university in her 30′s to get her degree. She graduated top of her class and now works full time in her local hospital, based mostly in the emergency room. From drunken brawlers to tearful children and grumpy old men with lumbago, Abigail has learnt to keep her cool and to have faith in her own ability.

Molly: holistic therapist and masseuse. It took years to get that bastard of a philosopher out of her head (and out of her bed - damn those happy hour drinks “for old times’ sake”), but she’s finally free. Molly radiates a kindness that few took to the time to see, and she wanted to take strength from her past struggles to help others who may need someone to listen, just as she did. Molly took a bunch of online courses in various holistic therapies, including aromatherapy and massage, as this was something she had always been interested in. She runs a tiny clinic on a quiet street, the rooms filled with sunshine and the scent of geraniums. She also has a quite popular ASMR YouTube channel, Emerald Eyes ASMR, which she shyly admits just reached 500k subscribers. Her most popular video, ‘Irish Girl Helps You Fall Asleep (soft spoken, tapping, mouth sounds)’ just reached over a million hits.

Kieran: veterinarian specialising in equine care. Much like Abigail, Kieran didn’t like the idea of going back into education. He’d had a rough time of it as a teenager, dropping out of high school early and working a string of menial jobs for the next decade. They paid his rent, but he still felt poor. His favourite job, however, was working at a stable. The horses made him feel calm and he found that he could read them better than most people. He went to the library and read as much as he could about them. From there, he got himself an apprenticeship which paved the way for him to earn his degree in veterinary science. He smiled so hard in his graduation photo his eyes disappeared into his cheeks. He travels all over the local countryside, visiting farms and ranches to care for the horses. His confidence picked up after the first few blunders, and little by little he’s saving up to buy his own ranch one day.

Lenny: political science student. You know that kid who always looks amazing, even in 9am lectures? Yeah, that’s not Lenny, but he’s sat just behind. See him? Yep, the one rubbing sleep from his eyes as he pushes through the effects of another all-nighter. It’s not due to procrastination, but from perfectionism. He spends hour agonising over references, appendixes and even titles. One time he was so tired he signed his work “Ynnel”. He’s completely in love with his course and relishes every class he takes. Oh, he’s taking Dutch’s ‘History of Western Philosophy’ module by the way. Sitting in the front row, middle seat, directly in front of Dutch, his eyes glinting wickedly. Poor Dutch. Lenny has a counterpoint for absolutely everything and can barely stifle his laughter as Dutch gets more and more flustered. He’s been dating Jenny Kirk, an English Lit student, for the past few months and it’s going well. So well in fact, that he might stop hiding his Doctor Who merchandise every time she comes to his dorm room.

Tilly: business student. Tilly started university at the same time as Lenny and they still always go to the library together, rolling their eyes at each other over their morning peppermint lattes. Tilly is at the forefront of any and all on-campus activism. Think of Sam from Dear White People - that’s our Tilly. She wears her Ravenclaw scarf all autumn and winter long and posts scathing Instagram stories about the cafeteria food. But she’s powerfully kind and very ambitious, taking on a part time job tutoring kids with dyslexia in their reading and writing.

Susan: midwife. Think having a baby is scary? Try crossing Nurse Grimshaw. She’s here now, and that baby is coming out of you one way or another. She’ll hold your hand through thick and thin but if you dare say “I can’t do it” one more time she’ll unleash hell. Susan will make sure everyone has a job to do. Partner just standing there like a lemon? Not on her watch. She’s harsh but kind to her trainees and will always offer a cup of coffee and a shoulder to cry on, but there’s a time and place for slacking and it’s not on her labour ward.

Trelawny: talent agent. Our Josiah is cunning, infuriatingly charismatic and with an eye for the best of the best - what else could he do so effortlessly? He’ll wrangle you a 10 second role as a latrine cleaner in a non-profit film and he’ll still make you feel like the next DiCaprio. You’re a diamond, don’t you know? Of course you could nab Elphaba, we’ll worry about the singing later. How do you feel about cat food commercials? No no, it’s not pornography, it really is cat food this time - he double checked. On top of this, he knows everyone in the business. No, really. He can’t move 3 feet down Broadway without someone booming his name. The tone of said boom depends, of course, but who hasn’t been caught with his bottom out in that director’s wife’s en-suite?

Sean: outdoor activity centre instructor. You mean you can actually get paid to swim in lakes, ride ziplines through the forest and eat roasted marshmallows?! Sean couldn’t believe his ears. But it was true, and he’s living his best life. He may be on his penultimate warning for unruly behaviour, but he knows he could never really get fired. How could they? Everyone loves him. And to his credit, he’s a fantastic instructor, especially with kids. Everything from canoeing to caving, wild swimming to climbing, Sean has mastered it all and he always makes it fun. No one is allowed to feel left out or silly for not being able to do something. Sean has a way of making everyone feel included, even if you can only make it up the first few rungs of the ladder. Hey, that’s still off the ground! He once knew this feller Bill who cried because a moth flew into his face. You’re doing fine.

Mary-Beth: librarian and YA author. Sweet Mary-Beth, how could she be anywhere else but surrounded by books? She adores her job at her small, local library and is always looking for ways to make it even better. She often gets tangled up in the stories she reads whilst organising shelves, but it’s quiet enough most days that she’s rarely caught. She loves helping people find their books or recommending her favourites. She also runs the toddler storytime groups and a writing club for older kids. Of course, she’s also writing her own books. The first of her ‘Valentine Mysteries’ books made a modest profit and she’s excited to write more about the adventures of Leslie Dupont.

Karen: actress. Realising that she had a knack for accents and even after an especially successful high school lead role as Roxy Hart, Karen didn’t really acknowledge her would-be passion for acting for a long time. But she used her talents to get herself and her friends into X-rated films, dive bars and successfully pull off dozens of prank calls. It wasn’t until one of her friends was going to an open-call audition for a short film and wanted someone to go with her that Karen had her epithany. She was cast on the spot, much to the dismay of her friend. Since then, she’s been in a handful of arthouse films, a commercial here and there, and recently enjoyed a short run as Hermia in A Midsummer Night’s Dream at a small theatre downtown. Does she want fame and fortune? Honestly, she hasn’t really thought about it. Right now, she’s just enjoying the ride. And the phone numbers left for her at front of house from many admirers.

Strauss: financial loan adviser. Oh boy, perhaps you saw this one coming. Then again, maybe not. Old Leopold isn’t quite the two-pronged-tongued eldritch horror people often mistake him for. In fact, he actually advises people against loan sharks. He had his fair share of debts y’see and he genuinely doesn’t want anyone else to go through the same thing. He’s not exactly sweet and cuddly, but he might let you have a free pen if you call by his office. I mean, technically they’re not free but...never mind, just take it.

Bill: plumber. It was purely accidental that Bill bashed his way into his career. No, really. His sink was blocked and after an hour of poking and prodding the pipes he started hitting the poor thing with a spanner out of pure frustration, cursing all the way. To his shock, it worked, and he suddenly had running water again. What shocked him more is that he realised he wanted to know how. So, he bought a book. And he read the book. And one thing led to another, and now he’s the proud owner of Williamson Plumbing Inc. The money is very good, but for Bill that’s not it. You have to understand that for him, it’s the act itself of fixing something that brings Bill immense satisfaction. And Bill isn’t used to knowing more about something - anything - than those around him. For the first time perhaps in his life, he can sit down, solve a problem, and know that he’s done a good job.

Swanson: AA group leader. After getting completely sober almost a decade ago and staying that way, Orville wanted to give something back to the people who had helped him out so greatly. Becoming a volunteer to help those who were trapped where he was seemed like the only path, and it felt so right. Orville is there in meetings, making coffee, handing out donuts and training new volunteers. If anyone wants to talk about their faith he’s all ears, but he never pushes it as a cure-all in any situation. Orville’s sobriety has also meant that he’s learnt to make the most phenomenal mocktails.

Pearson: grocery shop manager and cooking teacher. Simon has his small grocery shop on the edge of town which has a wide range of regular customers. But he wanted to do more, so he set up a small class to teach fellow veterans how to cook. His wife helps out, and they grow the ingredients together in their garden and down at the allotment. It’s just an therapeutic for him as it is for his students, as he’s only just realising how much he wants to talk about his time in the navy.

Uncle: unknown. For the longest time, everyone thought Uncle worked at one of the worst dive bars in town, as whenever they stumbled in for a nightcap he was there, behind the bar, happy as a pig in shit. Turns out that he just started going there one night and no one could get him to leave. And so every evening he’ll appear like a phantom, sit himself in the half-broken chair behind the bar (clearly labelled “not for customer use”), order the cheapest beer on the menu and sit there until midnight. No one can understand how he gets the means to live as he ragingly denies receiving any government handouts despite his lumbago. Claims to be a veteran but hasn’t fought in any wars anyone has heard of.

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we-are-inevitable · 4 years ago

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until forever // javid

Until Forever

some things about this fic: -davey being salty about his grades -Oblivious Jack !!! -drunk confessionsssss -jack splurges on good tequila and you Cannot tell me otherwise -they’re in university so, like, it’s automatically good

i hope u guys like this oneee !!

The front door opens to reveal a frazzled David Jacobs with a single black coffee, one bag of groceries, and an overstuffed satchel crossed over his torso.

The groceries are the first to drop to the floor. Jack knows that nothing in the bag is damaged; if something inside was fragile, then David surely would have brought the bag to the apartment’s small kitchen rather than discarding it onto the floor. As he watches the taller man set his coffee on the small table next to the front door, Jack can’t help but smile.

“Rough day, Davey?”

“You. Have. No. Idea,” David crosses the room and inelegantly drops his school bag into the chair against the wall, heading straight for the kitchen. “I’m convinced that Professor Snyder is incompetent. There is no fucking way I got less than a 90 on my midterm report, Jack, there’s no way! But no! Apparently he gave me a goddamn 86 on the paper--”

“I’m sorry, but is there somethin’ wrong with an 86? Seems pretty good to me,” Jack says as he stands up off of the couch, following David to the kitchen. “Don’t stress about it. You have, like, two months until the end of the semester, you’re gonna bring your grade up.”

“Oh, no, I have a high A in the class,” David says nonchalantly as he reaches up to grab a bottle from on top of the fridge-- tequila. Oh. David is in one of those moods. “It’s just-- He has the audacity to give me an 86, yet he gives Morris fucking Delancey a 98? There’s no way his paper was better than mine! I just--”

“Davey, I love ya, man, and I feel for ya, but if you get any more pissed you’re gonna break the bottle and you’re gonna owe me, like, $40. That’s my good tequila.”

“Get the shot glasses, Kelly.”

“On it.”

Jack has a painting he could have been doing. Not classwork, he was pretty much caught up with everything so far, but he has a commission that needs to be sent off by the end of the next week and he's still in the sketching phase. But, really, what's the point of working on a commission when he can get drunk with his best friend instead?

After all of these years, it is still weird to call David a ‘friend.’ They had met in the 8th grade, when Jack was adopted by Medda, who happened to teach drama at the school David attended. On the first day, David had told Jack to "shut the hell up" in their science class, and the two had been inseparable ever since. They had been 13 when they met.

Now, they're both nearing 23, living in an apartment together, both in their last year of college.

And Jack still hasn’t told David that he is completely, totally, irrevocably in love with him.

Jack brings the shot glasses to the living room, while David brings the bottle and a container of orange juice to chase it. They both sit on the couch for the next thirty minutes, ranting about their days and the horrible people they've dealt with in town or at work or in class or wherever they had over the course of that week.

Thirty minutes turn into an hour, and an hour turns into two. By that time, the sun is setting, casting a glow straight into the window of the apartment. Jack tilts his head and looks over at David with a chuckle at something he had said, but all laughter was lost as he caught David’s gaze.

God, those blue eyes make him weak. And with the way that the light was directly on them… Jack can’t take the silence.

He turns his body to face David, leaning his head against the back of the couch as his arms cross over his torso. “You ever been in love, Davey?” He asks with that signature Kelly grin. There’s no doubt in his mind that he looks like an idiot. Big smile, scrunched-up nose, squinty eyes- he had been told by plenty of girls that that look was 'something out of a romcom,' and he had never wanted that to be truer than right now.

The question seems to sober David up a little bit. He gulps and glances away, cheeks flushed- though Jack can’t tell if he’s blushing, or if it’s the alcohol. “I-... Jackie, c’mon. You’ve known me for ten years, you would know--”

“Ah, ah, ah, I think you have a bunch of shit you ain’t tellin’ me,” Jack says with a smirk, though his eyes soften up a bit. All he wants is for David to say yes. If David tells him, then Jack will be able to move on. If David is in love with someone else, then Jack can finally muster up the courage to finally stop telling himself he has a chance. “What about that boy you was with last year? What was his name? Lance?”

“Luke,” David corrects him with a grimace, “And no. I didn’t love him. I… I figured out a few months into it that I… loved someone else,” He admits with a shrug, then scratches the back of his neck. “...Love. Present tense. I love someone else.”

What a kick in the teeth.

Jack sits up a little straighter, then raises a brow. “Damn, you must’a had feelings for this fella for a while. It’s been, what, near a year since you and Luke broke it off?”

“I’ve liked this guy way longer than I’ve even known Luke,” David says simply, shooting Jack a smile that made his stomach flip.

“What’s he like?”

“Well,” David thinks for a moment, then grins. “He’s really sweet. Stupid, but in a good way,” He chuckles, and Jack can’t help but let out a little laugh as well. “He’s been through a lot, but he’s the most caring guy I’ve ever met. He’d give the shirt off his back for any one of his friends, and trust me, he has a lot.”

“Lots’a friends? Is he a frat guy?”

“Oh, hell no. Far from it. He’s just… really charismatic. He’s… He’s great,” David says with a melancholy grin, avoiding Jack’s gaze as he takes a slow sip of tequila straight from the bottle.

Something about the way that David is acting has Jack on edge. He seems so close to saying something, but Jack has no idea what it is, and, against his better judgment, Jack presses on. “Tell me more. Does he go here?”

“Mhm. He’s an art student,” David admits nonchalantly, and Jack’s heart feels like it rips in two. An art student… No. There’s no way David is talking about him, but the fact that he’s into another art student who isn’t Jack makes him regret ever asking in the first place. “He’s good, too. Really good. Seriously, Jack, his art... It’s the best I've ever seen. He likes music, too, and he’s a great singer, even though he doesn’t think so. He’s a horrible driver, but he can navigate the subway system in his sleep. He’s a pretty good--...”

David hesitates. Jack watches, holding his breath.

The silence between them is so heavy that Jack feels like he’s being crushed. Suffocated. “David...”

David takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes. “He’s a pretty good roommate, too. Even if he cares more about a $40 bottle of tequila than he cares about me.”

Jack is silent for a few long moments. He’s frozen in place, trying desperately to connect the dots, and deep down he knows what David is saying, but he can’t do this and he doesn’t want to assume and what if he's wrong? What if David is just playing a cruel joke on him? What if-- “Davey, what- what are you sayin’? I-- Dave, you need to- to spell it out, I don't understand--"

"Jackie," David cuts him off as he turns to face him, a sad smile on his face. The look makes Jack’s breath catch in his throat. “I love you. Jack Kelly, I love you.”

“No, you don’t,” Jack responds instantly, his eyes widening just slightly. “No, because- because I-- Fuck, I’ve loved you for so long, but you- you don’t love me. You- you can't love me, Davey, you deserve so- so much better than me, I'm so-- Is this real? Are you-- Are you real?”

The smile that breaks out onto David’s face stuns Jack into silence. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids,” David whispers, before letting out a laugh. “I just-- Jack, how could I not love you? You're everything to me, Jackie... Everything. All I've ever wanted. I know you don’t see it, but... You're the best thing to ever happen to me."

There's a long, long pause as Jack takes in the information. He's confused, and overwhelmed, but as the gears finally stop turning and the pieces fit into place, Jack lets out a giddy laugh. “I-- Davey, Davey, oh my God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect. You’re smart, and nice, and stubborn as a mule in the best way possible, and I- I ain’t good with words, you know that, but you--... All of my best paintings, all of my best sketches, are all because you were my muse. You were… Perfect. You’ve always been perfect… David?”

“Yeah, Jack?” David answers, breathless, and he's truly a sight to behold.

“Kiss me.”

The feeling of David frantically dragging him into his lap would forever be one of the best Jack has ever experienced. He straddles David’s thighs, wraps his arms around David’s neck, and melts as soon as David pulls him into the best kiss he had ever had.

It's just this side of rough, of passionate, of needy and wanton and Jack can feel ten years worth of wanting, waiting, wishing for this moment fuel the kiss even more.

David’s hand is in his hair. Caressing him. Grounding him.

They kiss for what feels like hours, but Jack eventually pulls back for breath, forehead gently pressed against David’s. Something tells him they should have done this a long time ago, but at least they had the rest of forever.

#I !!! LOVE !!! THEM !!!#jack kelly #david jacobs #davey jacobs #javid #javey #newsies #newsies live #newsies broadway #newsies musical #livesies #92sies #jac writes #jac txt.

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the-regal-warrior · 5 years ago

Text

Say You Won’t Let Go

Okay, here’s a little oneshot I’ve been working on - it’s heavily inspired by “Say You Won’t Let Go” by James Arthur. It’s also a birthday gift for @nalgenewhore (so it’s obviously Elorcan). Happy birthday, Isa! Love you lots - I’m so very glad that you’re my best friend, because I don’t know who I’d be without you.

Summary: Just adorable Elorcan fluff!

Warnings: Some language - Elide does not like mornings.

Elide Lochan was having the time of her life. Since she was the youngest in her group of friends, she knew she had to go all out for her twenty-first birthday - after all, it was the last one they would celebrate. Her parents had rented out an entire club - a smaller one in downtown Orynth - for the entire night, leaving her with explicit instructions to “be safe and have a good time - and for the love of the gods, don’t let anyone drive home.” (She knew that her parents, who owned a very successful company, had drivers that would be waiting outside to take everyone home at the end of the party.)

She was leaning against the bar, one hand absently fixing the tiara that marked her as the birthday girl as she watched the room full of friends that had come to celebrate her. Knowing she’d only have a few more moments to herself before one of them (most likely Aelin or Fenrys) came to drag her back into the middle of things, she grabbed the bottle of water the bartender had given her a couple minutes before and downed about half of it.

The bottle had barely hit the bar when she felt two large hands land on her bare waist. “El, you can’t keep yourself from the party - we’re all here to celebrate you.”

“The birthday girl doesn’t even get a moment to breathe on her birthday?” she giggled, turning so she could nudge him with her hip. “I’m just trying to stay hydrated, Fen.”

He nodded sagely at her, though the smirk practically painted on his face made her suspicious. “That just means it’s time for more shots!” Leaning over the bar, he whispered something in the bartender’s ear, and suddenly the man was pouring two shots. “Bottoms up, El!” Fenrys grabbed his shot and downed it, motioning for her to do the same.

She did, the burn of tequila in her throat a welcome feeling. “Let’s dance, Fen!” Elide grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor.

The world turned into a blur of strobe lights and pounding music, dancing bodies and the alcohol her friends kept passing her. She lost all sense of time and self, becoming nothing more than a vessel for the energy and the flow of the music.

Until she came face to face with Lorcan Salvaterre.

Something about that brutally handsome face always seemed to stir up a… feeling in her core. A feeling she didn’t totally understand - but she wanted to. She didn’t know him all that well. They were only friends by association, since his best friend Rowan and her best friend Aelin had been basically inseparable since their senior year of high school. She’d run into Lorcan at plenty of parties over the years, and they always seemed to have a connection of sorts, but they weren’t necessarily close.

“Lochan,” he purred, his hands gripping her waist as he pulled her closer, one of his legs slotting perfectly between hers. She’d never been happier with her choice of outfit than she was right at that moment. The strapless red top she’d chosen - a corset style top that laced in the back - left her waist exposed to his warm hands, and the tight black pants let her feel every move of his thigh over her damp center. The heels she’d slipped into - strappy black ones with red bottoms - left her at the perfect height to twine her arms around his neck and twirl his long hair - currently pulled half-up, so some of the strands fell down around his shoulders - through her fingers.

Elide bit her bottom lip as she tugged on the strands of his hair, causing him to gasp. “Salvaterre, hey.” She tilted her head back to meet his eyes, his fingertips gently tugging at her long hair where it fell in loose curls to her waist. “Wanna dance with the birthday girl?”

He pulled her closer, if that was even possible, goosebumps rising on her skin as his breath fanned over her cheek. “Fuck yes.”

~*^*~

Lorcan gathered her hair up in his fist, his other hand rubbing soothing circles over her back as she leaned her shoulder against the wall in her bathroom. The party had ended, and everyone had piled into the cars waiting for them. Lorcan, though fairly drunk himself, knew that Elide was probably far more drunk than she’d ever been, so he offered to ride home with her first to make sure that she was okay. Even though they weren’t the closest of friends, she’d readily accepted his offer.

Though she still looked a little nauseous, she looked better than she did when he’d practically carried her to the bathroom. Apparently the drinks her friends had been plying her with all night long had finally gotten to her.

Offering him a weak smile, Elide slowly started pushing herself to her feet. Once he was sure that she would be steady on her feet, he went to grab her a towel.

He leaned against the wall opposite from the sink as she rinsed out her mouth and washed her hands, just drinking in the sight of her. Something about her always captured his attention, always made him want to spend time with her.

Catching his eye in the mirror, she turned to look at him over her shoulder. Even though he’d had plenty to drink himself, the need in her eyes soberred him up - if only for a moment. Wordlessly, she took the towel he offered and used it to dry her hands and face. She tossed it behind her, not looking back as it landed in a ball on the counter.

Though he tracked her movements with his eyes, Lorcan never moved from his spot against the wall. He merely watched as Elide crossed the small space until she was standing in front of him, her arms winding around his waist as she pulled him into a hug.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer as she buried her face in his chest. They stayed like that for a little, only parting when she mumbled something into the fabric of his shirt.

“What was that, mamas?” he questioned, cupping her neck and pushing her chin up with his thumbs until she met his eyes.

She gave him a small smile. “I said I like being with you like this.” She seemed to hesitate before adding, “do you wanna stay the night?”

“El,” he replied, running one hand over his hair. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea - I think you should get some rest.”

She sighed, stepping back from him, a pout pulling her at her lips. “But I want you to stay.” He started to reply, but she cut him off. “Please? For my birthday?”

There was nothing he could do to resist that pout. “Okay, for your birthday. But I’m staying on the couch, E.”

Elide huffed, rolling her eyes at him. “The couch? I just want to fall asleep in your arms.”

“I know you do.” He leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose, his heart fluttering at the small giggle that escaped her. “But you’ve had quite a bit to drink. So, for tonight, I’ll stay on the couch.”

She nodded, but she still looked disappointed.

He took her hand and began leading her toward her bed. “But I was thinking I could take you out tomorrow, and if that goes well, I’ll stay with you tomorrow night?”

Elide squealed, though the sound was cut off as she yawned. “That sounds perfect.”

Nodding and leaving her to get changed, Lorcan went to tell the driver that he didn’t need a ride home, a smile slowly growing over his face.

~*^*~

That had been four and a half years ago. Elide was twenty-five, and as of four months ago, she was his wife. A part of him still couldn’t believe that Elide Lochan - Elide Salvaterre - had chosen him. She made him happier than anyone in the world, and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He had always been grateful for the night of her birthday party, for her courage in asking him to stay and his own courage in finally being able to ask her out.

Those were the thoughts that ran through his mind as he was laying in bed, his wife sprawled across his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what brought them into his mind, but that party was one of his happiest memories, and he thought about it quite often.

Elide lifted her head, a questioning look in her eyes as she ran a finger over the space between his eyebrows. “What’s got you thinking so hard?”

“Your twenty-first birthday party.” Lorcan smiled at her, his fingers twisting through the ends of her long dark hair as it spilled down her back.

She gave him a confused look, one eyebrow perfectly arched. “Erm, why?”

“Nothing, really. Just… well, I knew I loved you then.”

He watched as her cheeks slowly turned red, her eyes lighting as she took in his meaning. “You did?” she finally breathed, pressing her lips to his jaw gently.

“Yeah, I did. You were always so carefree and full of life - and you were always so happy to see me. It made me feel like I was enough.”

“Oh, Lor,” she whispered, pulling herself up until she could look into his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighed, tracing her lips with his thumb. “I was afraid, El. I didn’t want you to reject me, and I was scared of letting go of all the doubts I had - so I just played it cool.”

“You weren’t the only one who was afraid.” Elide leaned down to kiss him - just the briefest meeting of their lips - but it showed all the love that flowed between them. “I was terrified you were going to say no when I asked you to stay.”

Lorcan chuckled, pulling the blankets around them as she snuggled closer to his chest. “I’m really glad you did.”

“Me too, babes. Because now it’s just you and me forever.”

“Forever, mamas.”

~*^*~

Lorcan hummed to himself as he piled the food he’d spent the last twenty minutes making onto a tray. Elide had fallen asleep wrapped in his arms last night, and he’d just stared down at her for a while, content to watch the love of his life burrow her face against his chest in her sleep. He didn’t know she’d worried he would say no, but he was glad she’d shared that with him.

He’d woken up that morning to find that she’d rolled onto her side in her sleep, though her fingers had twined with his. Smiling at her fondly, he stroked his thumb over the back of her hand gently before slipping from their bed, deciding he’d surprise her with breakfast in bed.

Climbing the stairs was a bit tricky, since he was balancing a tray full of waffles, bacon, fresh mangoes and strawberries, and two mugs of coffee, but somehow he managed. Lorcan chuckled under his breath when he saw that she’d rolled again in his absence, her face buried in his pillow.

“El,” he murmured, setting the tray on her nightstand. “Wake up, love.”

Her head turned slightly on the pillow, but she gave him no other indication that she’d heard him. “Mmmm, no.”

Reaching out to run his fingers through her hair, he tried again. “Come on, lovely wife. It’s time to get up.”

“It’s too fucking early,” Elide muttered, lifting her face only enough that he could understand her.

“Well, okay then.” With one quick movement, he yanked the covers down to the bottom of the bed. She whined in protest, but he just gripped her waist and flipped her over, propping her against the pillows and kissing her forehead while she cursed him out under her breath.

She was still glaring at him when he stepped back. “Well that was fucking rude.”

“You’ll get over it.” He turned to grab her breakfast while he said it, and he only laughed when she smacked his ass. “Now,” he started, “is that any way to treat the man who made you such a lovely breakfast?”

“Ooo, breakfast?” she squealed, smiling when he placed the tray in front of her. “You’re the best husband ever, did you know that?”

“I do what I can,” he joked, pressing a kiss to her palm when she cupped his cheek as he sat down next to her. “Now make a wish, mamas.”

Elide’s eyes finally landed on the candle he’d placed in the waffles, the flame reflecting in her deep, dark eyes once he finally lit it. She seemed to think for a moment before finally closing her eyes and blowing. When she opened them again, he saw tears pooling and gathering on her lashes.

“Hey,” he whispered, swiping his thumb under her eye. “Why are you crying? What did you wish for?”

She smiled up at him, and he realized that her tears were ones of happiness and love. “I wished that we would always be this happy for the rest of our days.”

“Oh, my love.” Lorcan leaned in to kiss her, mindful of the tray balancing on her lap. She kissed him back, her lips moving slowly against his, like they had all the time in the world to be together - which they did. “My darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold. I can promise you that your wish will come true - even when we fight - because it’s just you and me until we’re grey and old, my lovely wife.”

As he said it, he realized that everything he wanted for his life, the future he’d been so desperately craving for so long, was right here in his arms. He could see it so clearly - he’d take their kids to school so she didn’t have to get out of bed any earlier then she wanted, and he’d wave goodbye to them every morning, knowing that his beautiful family existed because of his perfect wife.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he offered Elide another smile. They’d only been married for four months - there would be plenty of time to think about having children. “Okay, enough sap for the moment - enjoy your breakfast while it’s still warm.”

~*^*~

They’d eaten their breakfast slowly, content to spend the time together. Elide had teased him relentlessly about how his coffee always seemed to be more milk than coffee, and he just told her that it wasn’t his fault he’d “never developed a taste for that bitter shit, thank you very much.” He would have preferred a nice cup of tea, but coffee was her favorite and he was determined to spoil her.

As soon as she drained the last bit of her coffee from the mug, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. She just giggled as he pulled her into his arms, linking her hands behind his neck. She kissed him softly, just the slightest brush of her lips against his.

Lorcan indulged her for a moment, his lips moving just as gently against hers, before he pulled back and tucked her head against his chest. Even though there was no music, no sound in the room save for their gentle breaths and the beating of their hearts, he began to lead her around the space in a dance.

Unlike the way they moved together at her twenty-first birthday, this was the dancing of old friends. They moved slowly, happy just to be in each other’s arms.

Lorcan wasn’t sure how long they’d been dancing when he leaned down, pressed his lips against her ear, and whispered, “you look as beautiful as ever, and I swear that everyday’ll get better - you make me feel this way somehow.” It was her favorite line from their song, and he found himself whispering it to her quite often.

Elide scraped her nails gently against his scalp, the action soothing him and causing him to lead her back to their bed. She settled in his lap and nuzzled her nose against his jaw, whispering, “will you sing to me?”

He hummed in agreement, shifting so he could rest against the headboard. Kissing her forehead, he smiled against her skin before he started singing. “I wanna live with you, even when we’re ghosts, ‘cause you were always there for me when I needed you most. I’m gonna love you ‘til my lungs give out. I promise ‘til death we part, like in our vows. So I wrote this song for you - finally everybody knows that it’s just you and me ‘til we’re grey and old.”

She was crying gently against his chest by the time he was done, and he tilted her chin up until he could look into her eyes. “Come now, mamas. I didn’t think my singing was that bad.”

Breathing out a watery chuckle, she swatted his chest gently. “Hush, babes, you know you have a lovely voice. I wish you would sing me to sleep every night.” She took a deep breath, seeming to brace her herself for whatever she was about to say. “It’s just… well, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Feeling his muscles begin to tense, Lorcan just nodded at her to continue. She reached into her nightstand and wordlessly handed him a small picture. He’d barely looked at it before he felt his heart start swelling in his chest. “Is this,” he breathed, “is this what I think it is?”

Elide was nodding before he’d even finished speaking. “I’m pregnant,” she confirmed, smiling at him as she rested a hand protectively on her stomach. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but I also wanted to surprise you with the ultrasound photo. I’m about seven weeks along.”

Even though he could feel a massive smile spreading over his face, he still tried to pepper her face in kisses. “You’re going to a mom,” he said. And then, more softly, he murmured, “I’m going to be a dad.”

“You’re going to be the best father, love,” she whispered, giggling when he kept kissing her face.

He slid one hand down to rest next to hers on her stomach. “I love you very much, little one,” he breathed, still smiling as he traced his fingers across her stomach. It seemed like his dream of taking the kids to school was going to be coming true sooner than he thought.

And he couldn’t wait.

Tags: @highqueenofelfhame @city-of-fae @musicmaam @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @tacmc @tangledraysofsunshine @lordof-bloodshed @how-to-be-a-bad-ass-be-me @nalgenewhore @bookrebelwordwarrior @sleeping-and-books @photofeesh @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @belamoonbeam @mis-lil-red @julemmaes @thesirenwashere @tswaney17 @b00kworm @over300books @maastrash

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#say you won't let go #sywlg #elorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #throne of glass #tog #my writing

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