#but I will be eventually. i just gotta sit down and watch the movies

[loversys-x3]

The schnookie barrss (credits to the bestie for posing them and letting me take the goober aaa pictures.)

[angelicblondie]

fwb!rafe x meanprincess!reader

you knew you werent allowed to be jealous - that wasnt fair, and it certainly wasnt part of rafe and yours agreement.

and you knew it wasnt rational - you didnt even know why you were jealous. it wasnt like you had feelings for rafe, he was you best friend. so the two of you had fun every now and then and hooked up, he was still only just your best friend. in fact. he was really just looking out for you, making sure that you were getting the pleasure you deserved, that no one but him could give you. it was a solid arrangement, and you wouldnt change it anyways.

so what if you wanted to hold on a little tighter after he pleased you? so what if you liked it when he stayed later to watch a movie? so what if you liked it when he bought you things? these were normal things that best friends did, or at least thats what rafe told you.

but you were mad right now, and all you wanted to do was leave this stupid party rafe dragged you to.

rafe had left you alone for just a few minutes with his friends, and you didn't mind at all, enjoying the company of the two boys quite a lot. top and kelce were like brothers to you after all these years, and you thought they were the funniest boys in the obx. you were having fun, but then you turned you head to the drinks table where rafe was, surround by a literal swarm of girls. and the worst part, was he looked like he was enjoying it. you huffed with a narrow of you brows and turned your attention away from the scene, not wanting rafe to catch you looking.

you mind ran wild. what was he doing? why was he enjoying all that attention when you gave him all of yours and then some? were you not good enough for him?

you decided to play it cool, continuing your conversation with the other boys. eventually rafe came back, sitting right next to you as he was before, and handing you a drink. feeling petty, you look at the drink and scrunch your nose up, then shake your head, turning back to top and kelce. rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes, and set your drink on the table in front of him, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back against the couch, his arm resting on the cushion behind you.

you pretty much ignored rafe the whole rest of the night, and you could feel him growing frustrated beside you. rafe cleared his throat before speaking. "I've gotta take this one home, boys, curfew."

you narrow you eyes and open your mouth to oppose, but rafe sends you a withering stare and you decide against it, saying your goodbyes as rafe drags you out.

he huffs, bending down with his hands on your biceps, his expression hardened. "ok, what the fuck was that all about?"

you eyes narrow. "nothing."

he scoffs. "bull shit. why'r you actin like a brat?"

the annoyed pout on you face spoke for itself. "nothing, its just that if you wanna fuck other girls, thats fine, but i'd rather you tell me so I could get checked for whatever weird shit they're carrying around".

rafe face lights in realization and he drops his hands from your arms, running them down his face with an amused smile, shaking his head in subtle laugher.

you pout, spurred on by his sudden amusement. "what?" you snap.

he finishes his laughter, crossing his arms. "no, nothin, its just - I just get it now. i get your lil problem."

you cross your arms, mirroring him. "do you?" you ask sassily.

he chuckles, walking right in front of you, leaning down to be face to face. "sweetie, if you were feelin a lil territorial, just say that," he says, his voice quiet and cocky. his hands traveled to your waist, giving it a good squeeze.

you feel more enraged and you scoff, pushing him away (though he barely budges). "get the fuck over yourself, rafe, god!" you exclaim.

rafe grabs your wrist in a tight grip, the smile disappearing from his face. "hey, no no no. none'a that. was tryin t'be nice but guess thats out of the books, huh princess?" you pout at his condescending tone but don't speak, knowing it would only dig you in a deeper hole.

"y'know that I wasn't gunna fuck any of those girls. we were j'talkin," he explains, his voice coming across level, almost as if he was trying to dumb down his tone.

at his words, you roll your eyes, which causes rafe to tug harder on your wrists. "hey, stop," he scolds sternly. "m'not fuckin anyone else, hear me? so stop being such a little brat about it. god, makes me wonder why I fuckin put up with you."

his words trigger a pout, and you tug again at your wrist, trying to free them. "quit it, rafe, i hear you."

"nuh-uh, dont think y'hearin me," he responds, his features softening up the slightest, "how bout this, huh? i take you back to tannyhill, make y'feel real good, and then you know for sure that m'not fuckin with anyone else? how does that sound baby?"

you werent sure if it was the suggestion, or the way he called you baby that made you agree, but all you knew is that you ended the night with rafe, feeling much more confident that he wasnt, and wouldnt, fuck any other girl in the obx but you.

[bluetimeombre]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐨L 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢e

Deadpool and Wolverine but your lady pool and an absolute SLUT for Wolverine.

[this is a complete self insert with just everything I was thinking about during the movie and since then I’ve watched it three times. It gets better every time. Snippets of the movie, will probably do a part two. SPOILERS!]

part two

Warning/disclaimer: femreaderxwolverine, sexual content, sexual language, offensive language, just being a whore the man, cursing, repeat daddy issues, never proof-read.

After digging up Logan and expecting to find a shirtless and oiled-up Hugh Jackman, you were a little more than disappointed to find the bones and metal. 'Damn it! Shit! Fuck! They Les Mis'd him!'

Eventually, you settled down next to the remains, against the same log that had impaled him. 'That was weird,' you chuckled. 'I'm much calmer now. Look, I'm not a woman in stem but you seem incredibly dead to me. Oh, you sexy lump of bones and metal. I would have let you slide them into me any day.'

'But it's good to see you,' you pat his knee. 'I gotta be honest, I've always wanted to ride you, Logan. Oh, whoops, I meant with you. Ha! Who am I kidding, no I didn't. Just you and me, getting into it. And I mean into it. Every style. Doggy. Sixty-nine. On the kitchen counter to the bathroom. Till my back broke. Yea, we'd have been good together.' You ranted, fantasies flying across your mind too quick to focus on one.

With your red-gloved hand, you jerk the chin. 'G'day mate, there's nothing that'll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of Marvel cash. Ha- I hear you, Hugh. But no, no, no, no you had to go and get all noble and die for real. I could really use your help right now. And a massage. Your big manly hands just rubbing all over me-'

Just as you were about to go into further detail about what you want him to do to you, the sound of portals opening and heavy boots stomping closer alerted you.

Quickly, you pulled the skeleton down on top of you.

'There are two hundred and six bones in the body. Two hundred and seven if i'm watching Van Helsing.'

Que the fucking montage.

You have a mission. Find a Logan to take back with you. First up you end up in a bar, catching an axe as it was thrown at you. 'Logan! I'm gonna need you to come with me.'

The Logan sitting at the bar slowly turned to you. 'Who's asking? ' He slipped from the bar stool to reveal a 5'3 Logan.

You coo. 'Well, who's this little ankle biter. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes you did, comic-accurate short king. Such a cute little Wolvie.'

The little guy started stalking toward you.

'Que the fucking montage.'

You found a Wolverine for the seventies, or eighties, something close enough to that, one hand missing. 'Oh yea, sexy, you have anchor being written all over you.'

You found patch Logan. 'Oh hello, Patch. Should've worn my white suit.'

You found another old man Logan, sitting solemnly on his front porch. 'Howdy! Oh, I see, you're the daddy issues one. Good to see god has answered my prayers. So soldier, do I need to be a bad girl so you put me over your knee, daddy?'

Another was tied to a cross with red bloody skulls acting as a floor.

One was dressed in a tight yellow and brown suit, walking through the woods. 'Hubba hubba. Classic! Now, you fought the Hulk in this suit, right?' as he snicked his claws out, the green of the beast reflected from behind you. 'I am Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I will not be-'

One, your favourite, was working on a bike in a tight white vest and dark pants. You drooled. 'That's the whole goddamn package right there. You know from behind you look a bit- holy Shit!' he turned, and everything about him was Wolverine. Except for the fact he was Henry fucking Cavil. 'The Cavalry has arrived. The prophecy has been fulfilled. Can I say, sir, sorry, daddy- on behalf of all of humanity, this just feels right! We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street!'

He took the cigar from his mouth, stalking to you. You had never been so aroused in your life. 'You were just leaving'

Giggling and twirling your hair, you hold a hand out, ghosting over his chest. 'Can I just, one- one touch. Oh my god! You're like Superman or something.'

He punched you right into the Logan you needed. Thank you Cavil.

'You two gonna fuck or fight?' asked the bartender. 'Both if i'm lucky,' you said.'

'Oh look at those sexy little jammies, that only took twenty fucking years!'

The trash heap was the last place you wanted to end up, but when you woke to Logan looming over you, a snarl on his face, you sighed in relief.

'Well, hello sexiest man alive, 2008. Wanna give me a hand? Or head?'

He sniked his claws out.

'Kinky! That's new for Disney!'

He dug his claws into your ribs and dragged you up with them. 'Where the fuck are we?'

'I dunno, but it looks a bit mad maxxy to me. But that would be IP infringement right?'

'Fucking jokes,' Logan uttered. He threw you over his leg, your back breaking.

'Till my back breaks, Wolvie!' you yelled out, quickly rolling yourself back up and shaking it off. 'Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm a big fan. How about we strip off our suits, take a tumble in the sand, get to know one another you know. Personally, I'm more of a cowgirl fan but I'm willing to do whatever you want baby.'

'You're unbelievable,' he grumbled. It was still sexy. He turned his back to you.

'Oh, I see, is that what you did when your world went to shit!'

He paused, his head slowly turning to you. 'Say again, bub?'

'Oh, I am so horny right now.'

The two of you engaged in a fight, and not the sexy stradling fight that would happen later, but the guns firing, swords slashing kind of fight. that was only interrupted by a familiar voice.

The only other voice that could have you dropping your panties as quick as Wolverine. He was hooded, hidden, but you knew him from your sex dreams.

'Dear god almighty, it's him.'

'Who?' growled Logan.

'Don't be jealous baby, I have two holes for a reason. Don't worry gorgeous, you're gonna encounter some delicate language, a smidge of ass play but we've been prohibited from using cocaine, at least on page.'

He raised a hand. 'They're coming.'

'Who's they?'

The three of you watch cars and trucks drive through the waste, keeping you trapped. There were familiar faces, Pyro, Toad. And Sabertooth.

The mysterious figure jumped down and mastered the superhero landing that had you clapping your hands and jumping up and down.

'Oh my god! Oh my god!' you held onto Logan's shoulder as you jumped while he just glared at you.

'I've got this,' the man takes down his hood, showing the beautiful, hot, strong, handsome, hubba-hubba worthy, Chris Evans.

'Oh yes, you do sexiest man alive, 2022!' you cheer.

'Stay close,' Chris- or Steve- called back to you.

You stalk over to him. 'Aye aye, Captain.' you wrap your arms around his stomach, fingers trailing over his abs. He removes you and you groan, sulking. You walk back to Wolverine and jump onto the side of his hip.

Instinctively he holds your ass which makes you giddy before he realises his mistake and drops you.

'You're not gonna love what happens next,' shouted the captain.

Your jaw dropped from behind the mask. 'Holy shit, omg! No way, he's gonna say it! He's gonna say it!' you flick one of your swords that was still poking out of Wolverine's chest. 'Avengers-'

'Flame on!' Steve- no, Johnny- yelled and took to the skies in a ball of fire.

It was sort of stupid in hind sight as Pyro lifted a hand and extinguished him, causing him to fall from the skies and go crotch first into a billboard.

'No!' you screamed, rushing to him and rolling onto his back to get a look at him. 'No, no baby, stay with me. Let me take a look!' you tried to pull down his pants but Logan literally pulled you off him.

You were tied up with Wolverine on the front side of you and Johnny on the back. When you woke, you giggled. 'Woah, just like my dreams.'

Johnny woke to, lifting his head from your shoulder. 'How long was I out?'

You smirk under the mask, looking back to him. 'Not all of you was asleep, say Cap, is that a Glock in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

'Is that Chuck? Hey Chuck, over here! Hope it's you young, god, we got James Macovy in this?' you yelled as a wheelchair rolled out as you entered the thing that was apparently large Paul Rudd.

'Cassandra Nova. Charles's twin,' the villain introduced herself.

'Holy shit,' said Logan.

'How was anal birth?' you asked.

Cassandra smirked. 'You two are cute. I have a good feeling about this.'

'Right!' you cheered. 'Just wait till this ends, the smut is off the charts!'

She took the chain from around the two of you but you wrapped yourself around Logan's arm, he only grunted at you. He only pushed you off when you started to go off and off about what Johnny said about Cassandra. 'People think i'm a shit talker but this guy-' you chef's kiss. 'Next level!'

Cassandra, with a flick of her hand, shed the skin from him as he fell in a heap of bones and blood and skin,

You cried out, holding onto Logan for dear life. 'My favourite Chris!'

'You silly little bitch, you just got him fucking killed!' yelled Logan.

'Fine, spank me then! P.S. Do you know what he was doing to the budget!'

You were brought to Ultimatum with Cassadra, Oliath or the other British villain, but all you wanted was to save your world, bang Wolvy and go home.

'I didn't want it to come to this, either you help us or my boyfriend here is gonna perform the whole of Greatest Showman as a one-man show,' you warn.

'I'm not her boyfriend,' Logan grumbled.

Cassandra went on a trauma dump that had you groaning. 'Couldn't you just turn into accomplishment like the rest of us?'

But I'm not like the rest of you, except maybe the Wolverine, now we could be truly terrifying together.'

'Sorry lady, he's taken!'

'Not for long,' Cassandra smirked and as Logan attacked, she sent him in the ground and away from you. You only whined at his disappearance, a whine that turned into a groan when Cassandra's fingers entered you in the worst way possible. Through your head.

'What can I see here?' she asked. Cassandra gasped. 'Oh, you are a whore.'

Oh yes, she saw the million filthy things you wanted to do to Logan.

The two of you made it out and to the diner where Logan was intent on finding food and taking rubbing alcohol shots. When he sat across from you, chucking a tin of spam at you, you pulled of your mask.

Logan stilled, looking at you with finally something a little different than anger.

'What?' you asked.

'I thought you'd be ugly under there.'

'No- no, that's the Deadpool. I'm better, and a self-insert.'

The two of you took to walking through the rather nicer side of the waste. You had his hand in yours, swinging it happily like you were a couple before he threatened to chop your hand off.

'You said Logan was a hero, what happened?' he asked.

'You died. Technically you were chest fucked by a tree, but really you just ran out of batteries trying to save this girl- a kid really. Always wanted a man who's good with kids. The shit heels who grew her in a lab called her x-23, but she was just a kid. A smaller, cute and mean version of you. Yep, you saved her, very hero, very demure.'

The two of you were interrupted when a bark sounded over the hill and the BEST DOG EVER ran out to you, ears flapping in the wind, tongue out as it always was. The little boots. The collar. It was Dogpool.

You threw off your mask and picked her up, cuddling her close. 'She's coming with us.'

'No she's not!' he argued.

'Yes, she is!'

'No!'

You pulled out your puppy dog eyes and lifted the dog to your face and slowly the resolve in his face slipped.

'Sorry!' another man ran out, chasing after the dog.

'Fucking shit bag!' you cursed.

It was another dead pool, a good-looking one with long hair.

'What's Ryan Reynolds actually doing here, I thought I replaced him?' you said.

'In here everyone calls me Nicepool.'

'Can we have your dog?' you asked immediately.

He laughed. 'over my dead body!'

You nod, thinking about it but Logan holds out his arm before you can even move.

Whatever Nicepool was saying was you didn't care as you cooed and hugged the dog closer and Logan watched.

Fuck, he was paying attention to you.

'Why are you so nice?' you asked eventually.

'It costs nothing to be kind,' he said.

'Shutting the fuck up is also free,' said Logan.

You bite your lip in his direction. 'God I am so attracted to you right now. This is Logan, he's usually shirtless but he's let himself go since the divorce.'

Finally, the Nicepool took you to his ride to get you and Logan and the dog to the borderlands.

It was a honda fucking odyssey.

Logan wasn't willing to listen to your complaints. 'Get in the fucking car.'

'Make me, Daddy,' you said.

He took one step closer to you and you backed away with the dog. 'No, we're running away!'

Logan forced her from your arms and handed him back to the Nicepool.

'The corn was to dense girl!' you called after her, pouting.

Logan shoves you into the passenger seat while he takes the wheel.

You pull of your mask, hair falling around you like you were in an advert. 'So, what shall we do to pass the time...'

Honda Odyssey coming soon, that my friends, is called edging.

[erwinsvow]

𝐫𝐜 - 𝟐:𝟏𝟏𝐩𝐦

you slept at tannyhill every night now.

it was commonplace to see you making breakfast in the kitchen, by the pool with sarah or inside watching some silly movie with wheezie. that was only sometimes though, since all your time was usually spent with rafe.

he liked having you around at tannyhill all the time—he thought it was cute. you wait for him to get back like a little housewife, looking pretty and pampered and tan, like he wants.

he doesn’t like waking you up early when he’s leaving for the day. you used to set your alarm to get up and drink coffee with him but he’s started turning it off—you don’t have any reason to be up that early.

sweet and always compliant, you do as he says, sleeping in. rafe presses a kiss to your forehead in the morning before he leaves, day filled with meetings and business things that he doesn’t always tell you about in detail. you just know that he’s gone.

“stoppin’ by barry’s and then the club with kelce. we’re playing golf with-” you listen to rafe while he puts on his watch and his rings, but you drift off half way through. you feel the warm press of his lips on your skin and the sound of him saying goodbye.

you’re not sure when it happened—you used to get up early and get ready for the day, filling your summer days with friends at the beach and your books by the pool and never going more than an hour alone. but now that you’re with rafe, it’s so easy to sit around and wait for him. you don’t even want to see anyone, you just want the hours to pass until he’s back.

maybe it’s not healthy. you don’t really care much even if it’s not.

you fall back asleep, and wake up when the sun is pouring in between rafe’s dark curtains. you stretch and debate going downstairs to eat something, but after brushing your teeth you crawl back into rafe’s bed. the sheets smell like him and you stare awfully long at the pillow he sleeps on. shifting the pillow to lay on it, you fall back asleep, not waking up until you hear the door to his room open.

rubbing your eyes, you glance up, hoping it’s not ward looking for him since you’re just in one of rafe’s shirts and nothing else, but the shape in front of you gets closer and clearer.

“what’s this? been in bed all day, kid?” you yawn again.

“what time is it?” you question, laying back down against rafe’s pillow.

“two in the afternoon.” he comes and sits by the edge, stroking your hair while you melt into his touch. “got any plans to get up today?” you shake your head.

“your bed’s comfy. and it smells like you.”

“that’s cute, kid. gotta get up eventually.”

“you’ll have to make me.”

“that can be arranged.” you giggle, lifting yourself up to give rafe a hug, head resting on his shoulder. "but i like you like this. don't have to lift a finger, do'ya?"

“no," you agree, nodding your head. maybe you could get used to this. "missed you.”

“i’m back now. nothin’ to miss.”

“i still do.” rafe presses another kiss to your forehead, and you nestle in further. “i could fall asleep like this.”

“yeah, no.” in one motion he scoops you up, placing you on your feet. you yelp in surprise, fighting against his grip.

"i'm still tired! i thought you wanted to spoil me, this isn't spo-"

“shut up. c’mon, we’re gonna go shower.” that shuts you up right away. 

“okay,” you sing sweetly, suddenly compliant. 

“yeah, i knew you'd get out of bed for some dick. little freak.”

[dorkszn]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 ✧ 𝐦. 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐭

— nsfw under the cut; dom reader, sub!mike, movie!mike, begging, cumming in pants

“get up.” mike says sternly, glaring from beneath you. you scoff and lean in a little closer to him. you straddle his legs, your arms crossed on his chest, pinning him down.

“you said you were off tonight,” you ignore his order. he said he was off tonight then you saw him dressed with his security vest on. “you lied to me and abby.” you add. mike sighs, glancing away from you before looking back into your eyes. the eye contact immediately falls as he looks away once more.

“i know. i just… i have something important to do.” he explains, looking everywhere except at you.

“so me and abs aren’t important?” you murmur, slightly tilting your head to the side. his eyes widen a bit.

“i didn—“ mike’s words break off into a soft whine as you slowly push your hips forward; grinding yourself onto his cock through your thin shorts. a smug grin covers your face as he pulls himself together. “i didn’t say that. it’ll be quick, promise.”

“you also promised you’d watch a movie with me.” you hum, rolling your hips again. you watch as his eyes squeeze shut.

“i know. and— i swear we will, as soon as i get back.” he nods.

“mike…” you whine. you feel his dick twitch in his pants when his name rolls off your tongue. “can’t you stay just one more hour?” the soft drawl of your smooth voice forces mike to gulp, feeling himself starting to get hard in his jeans. you press harder against his growing erection.

“y/n, please.” he groans in a low voice. you don’t answer and repeat the movements of your hips. a shaky breath followed by a quiet moan leaves his throat.

you lean down, ghosting by his lips and to his ear. “i know how sensitive you are, mike,” you murmur against the shell of his ear. you press a kiss on his skin. “just one more hour. please?” you plead.

you continue the push of your hips; grinding your core on him. you begin kissing him all over. moving from his ear and down his jaw; whispering a small “please” between each kiss.

“fuck, y/n. i gotta go.” his hands find your hips but don’t stop you, simply holding you.

“so… stop?” you halt your movements, seeing that expression on mike’s face. as much as you wanted this, you had no problem leaving him like this. on the edge. and he knew it. his grip on your waist tightens when he comes to a decision.

“no… no, please, don’t stop.” his short brunette curls move slightly as he shakes his head. you smile before going back to leaving kisses everywhere and softly sucking on his skin. he begins to desperately rut his hips, meeting you halfway each time.

“see? you can be such a good boy for me.” you whisper. his lips part, nothing but a strangled moan coming out. eventually, even you’re letting out small whimpers.

he babbles hundreds of incoherent words, most of them being curse words. “ngh- shit y/n, get up.” he whines.

“but you’re so so close,” you mumble, moving more erratically. mike’s hold falters as his eyes roll and he quickly shuts them.

“y/n. oh fuck. y/n, i’m gonna—“ you capture his words in a kiss. you take in the sweet sounds he releases into your mouth as cum finally spills from his tip. his flowing seed stains his boxers; pooling onto the fabric.

you sit there as he pants, chest heaving up and down. he forces his breathing back to normal, coming down from his high. his sensitive cock now buzzing in his jeans.

a few seconds later, he grabs your waist again, pushing you off him. you roll onto the bed, bursting out into a giggle fit. mike sits up, glaring at you. you yelp when he pokes you before standing up from the bed.

“when i get home, you are dead.” he threatens, searching for a new pair of clean underwear.

“i love you too, mike.”

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 1 : Your Name

Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years. ‘Love’ felt like a foreign term, but maybe it wasn’t so far out of reach. Chap. 1 Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for the future smut) Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, age gap (joel is 36 reader is 27), no smut (yet), sexual tension, flirting, pining, mentions of alcohol, language, angst, reader's last name is 'Smith' for no other purpose than the fact she is a teacher A/N: This will definitely be a slow-burn fic, so please hang tight!! Tropes include: second chance at love, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, etc. I'm actually so excited about this one, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes :')

Masterlist

PROLOGUE

You never thought you’d be the girl sitting at the steps of an abandoned altar with your wedding dress covered in mud from the rain.

 Just minutes before you were supposed to take your first steps down the aisle, your fiancé fled. You watched the blur of his suit in the distance as he ran through the rain and left your family and friends in shock. Motionless at the back of the rows of chairs, you dropped your bouquet and stood in heartbreaking silence as the cords of the violins faded into the air. Your parents and siblings swarmed around you, trying to break the paralysis that kept your eyes locked on the vacant spot under the archway and steps of what would have been the place you said your vows. You still had them in your hand; the words scribbled neatly on a folded paper torn from your journal. You’d never get the chance to say those words aloud; he never would have deserved them, anyway. 

The ring sat heavily on your finger now as you watched it glisten under the pelting rain. Your dress clung to your body in layers of silk and lace, a taunting reminder of who you had become for a man unworthy of your love and devotion. 

Five years together, all stripped away in a matter of minutes. 

You’d never love again. 

“Everyone’s gotta do it,” Maria sighed as she stood at the student drop-off with you.

By ‘it,’ she meant chaperoning the father-daughter dance later in the week, which you seriously wanted no part of. You had been through enough school dances in your three years working at the middle school, and you were tired of watching pre-teens grinding on each other to god-awful music. You had better things to do with your Friday nights, like sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a horror movie playing in the background—you’d sworn off rom-coms long ago.

“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled, waving another line of kids across the road. 

You watched as they trudged across the crosswalk with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, eyes bright and broad at the realization school was over for the day. If only they were that chipper in class, maybe you’d have an easier time teaching them how to write three-point essays. 

Maria chirped goodbye to each one as they passed, her cheeks pinched with a fake smile only you could recognize. You knew she loved the kids but loved the final school bell even more. You, on the other hand, hated it. The end of school was just another reminder that you’d go back to an empty home and an empty life. 

Two years had passed since Bennett ran from your wedding ceremony—two years without closure or an answer. By the time you had pieced yourself together and returned home from the would-have-been ceremony, his things were gone, and the house filled with the ghost of his presence. Your in-laws went radio silent, avoiding all calls and emails from you until they eventually moved out of state and changed numbers. The hours leading up to the ceremony would forever be a mystery as to why he left, and you would spend the rest of your life fighting for an answer as to why you weren’t good enough to love. 

Dragging you from your thoughts, Maria bumped you with her hip, giving you a concerned look. You shook away the memories and returned her stare with a fake smile you had mastered over the last two years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had genuinely smiled or laughed without feeling the force of a facade washing over you. Concealing the pain of it all made it easier; maybe if you believed you were okay, you’d start feeling okay. But you never did. Not even the countless hours of therapy had helped reconcile the person you once were. Bennett had left and taken every vulnerable part of you with him, leaving nothing but a raw and broken shell in his wake. 

“You’re doing it again,” Maria scolded. 

“Doing what?” You asked, already aware of the answer.

“Wallowing. You really should get back out there again.”

You focused on the next grouping of kids setting out to cross the street, your hand instinctively coming up to hold the passing cars at a standstill. You plastered on a fake smile as they waved goodbye to you, and you glanced back at Maria once they finally stepped foot on the next sidewalk.

“I’m not interested,” you stated. “I’m fine on my own.”

Her eyebrow lifted as if challenging your blasé response. Your answer always remained the same, yet Maria relentlessly attempted to change your mind.

“You’ve got to at least try. What if there’s already someone out there just waiting for you?”

“Maria, I promise no one is waiting for me.”

“I wish you’d just give it a shot. You deserve to be happy.”

You had heard that phrase often over the last couple of years; a pitying tone always accompanied the words. People loved to soothe you with words that held no weight or purpose. You learned to nod along to their sympathies and turn a deaf ear to their suggestions of what you deserved. 

The final round of kids made their way toward the line of parents waiting in their cars, and you followed Maria back to your classrooms to clean up before leaving for the day. Her words stuck with you on the quiet drive home; the radio wasn’t enough to drown out that taunting voice in your head reminding you that you’d never be enough. 

Your single-story house was nestled into an older neighborhood of Austin, only a handful of miles from the middle school. You’d argue that the house was the best thing to come out of the failed engagement; its personality stood firm against the other houses with a vibrant shade of blue painted over its wooden panels and wrap-around porch. You spent the last few months sprucing up the front yard, planting rose bushes and trees to liven up the house. It hadn’t fixed all your problems but pacified them temporarily as you dirtied your hands in the soil. 

It became second nature to shut your garage immediately after putting your car in park. You didn’t want the typical neighborly interactions or shallow conversations. You were content with living between closed doors and drawn curtains. The less of an interaction with the world, the better. 

Dropping your purse and work bag on the kitchen counter, you sunk onto a barstool, staring blankly at the fridge and knowing all too well there was hardly anything inside it. You’d settle for another frozen meal and glass of wine, a typical meal these days to satisfy a hunger you no longer had. Despite the colorful kitchen cabinets, the mustard yellow couch in the living room, and the obscure wallpaper…your life was dull. How could one person suck out all the energy from another human being? How could pain last this long? 

You stabbed a fork into the TV dinner meal before you and wondered if you’d ever feel happy again. 

**

You managed to survive another week of teaching, only to now be standing in the shadows of the school gymnasium, nursing an overly sweet fruit punch. The PTA had done a decent job of turning the space into a somewhat realistic dance floor: string lights hung corner to corner of the ceiling, a DJ booth in the center of the basketball court, and colorful balloons circled the air. You spotted a few of your students dancing with their fathers, their eyes squeezed shut from their too-wide smiles and bubbling laughter. A foreign ache in your chest reminded you how you would have had a father-daughter dance at your wedding. Your father even took it upon himself to brush up on dance lessons to sway you across the floor to some overly emotional song. As corny as it was, you had been looking forward to that moment throughout your engagement. 

“Look who got all dolled up!” Maria hollered as she strolled over, fruit punch in hand.

“I would hardly call this dolled up,” you said, tugging at the hem of your dress.

You only had a handful of dresses in your closet, this particular one being a flowy black cocktail dress with a halter top and ruffled skirt. It was barely passing the school dress code, so you decided to pair it with a low kitten heel to try and deter the admin’s scrutiny. You did, however, spend a little more time than usual on your makeup and hair, hoping if you looked pretty, then maybe you’d feel it, too.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Maria sighed.

“You look great,” you said, sidestepping her lecture.

Maria had chosen a plum floor-length maxi dress decorated with embroidered blue flowers. Her curly hair was pinned in a bun, and several sparkly barrettes were clipped to the side. Her makeup was no different from usual: a rosy red lip and simple mascara with a hint of blush on her cheeks. 

“Really, Maria. You do.”

“Well, thank you,” she blushed, looking back toward the room full of bodies dancing.

Your eyes followed hers, settling on the duos as they swayed to a slow song. Every father was dressed up in some sort of button-up or the occasional suit except for one—the same one who happened to be twirling around your student, Sarah Miller. You nudged Maria, pointing secretly at them with a questioning glance.

“Is that her dad?” You asked.

He wore a basic cotton T-shirt, jeans, and dirty work boots. There was barely any thought behind his appearance as if he had rolled up to the school right after a long shift at work, forgoing any effort or care. Some part of you hated him for it. The least he could do was get dressed up for a silly school dance, especially when Sarah wore a lavender tulle dress that complimented her olive skin tone. 

“Yup,” Maria elongated the word. “That’s Joel Miller.”

“Sure looks like he doesn’t care to be here,” you grumbled.

Maria barked a laugh, looking at you through narrowed eyes.

“As opposed to you?” She questioned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you bitching about this dance all week long?”

“Well, at least I put some effort into my looks tonight,” you defended.

You glanced back at Sarah, seeing her father twirl her one last time. You caught a glimpse of his face for the first time in the flow of his movements. Messy dark curls framed his head, curling in every which way as if he’d run his hand through them a million times. Even from a distance, you could see the patchy beard and short mustache covering the lower half of his face, alongside the several creases around his eyes as he smiled.  And his eyes… They looked like big brown saucers under the lights, reflecting a genuine softness as he watched his daughter dance. 

And then they snapped up to meet your gaze through the crowd as if you had silently called out to him. Everything slowed around you for a moment as he studied you from afar, his eyes drifting down your body and back up with a hint of a smile teasing his lips. A rush of heat crawled up your neck, and you broke the eye contact between you. Maria cleared her throat beside you, tearing you away from the man holding your sincere interest. 

“What was that?” Maria chirped. 

You shook your head, glancing between her curious face and the dancefloor. Joel had since moved on, steering Sarah toward the refreshment table. He never once looked back at you, which left you unexplainably disappointed. For a moment in time, someone looked at you and saw you. 

“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered. “Probably nothing.”

“It looked like something.”

You turned to face Maria, a scowl twisting up your lips entirely. You were tired of her pushing nonexistent things on you, and that’s what this was— nonexistent. Whatever moment between you and Joel had gone as quickly as it came. You were done with the night and standing among so many cheerful people. You couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“I think I’m going to take off,” you announced, placing your half-drunk fruit punch on the table behind you. 

Maria was defeated, knowing you'd still leave no matter what she said. Stalking out of the gymnasium, you grabbed your purse from the teacher's booth and booked it to your car with your heels in your hands. You carefully walked along the sidewalk toward your car, catching a conversation drifting through the wind between the other vehicles. 

“...Dad, you promised we’d watch movies tomorrow!”

“I know, sweetheart, but Uncle Tommy needs help on the job sight.”

You hid between two cars, listening to their voices bounce back and forth. It wasn’t until you peeked out to see the two figures that you realized it was Sarah and her father, Joel. For fucks sake. You tiptoed around the car's bumper beside you, attempting to make a getaway before either of them saw you. You must have done a terrible job because Sarah called your name as you edged closer to your car.

“Miss Smith!”

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. 

With your purse in one hand and heels in the other, you turned toward them with your rehearsed fake smile. Sarah was standing beside her dad—Joel—a small smile shining up at you. You knew her usual upbeat personality in class, always laughing and joking with other kids. She was an A+ student, too, and her work showcased her smartness. But in her father's shadow, a distinct sadness clouded her eyes. 

“Hello, Sarah! How did you like the dance?” You asked. 

“It was really fun,” she grinned, forcing her smile wider. You saw through it. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Joel cleared his throat, extending a large hand toward you. You blinked at his open palm, afraid of making that same startling eye contact as you had in the gymnasium. Shuffling your purse into your other hand, you took his into yours, focusing on the warmth of his grip crawling up your skin. His fingers dwarfed your own, tightening around your hand until you were forced to look up finally. 

“S’nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Smith,” he said, his thick Southern accent shining through.

“Miss Smith,” you corrected. It was hard to hide the bitterness in the statement. 

“Miss Smith,” he echoed. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad.”

His eyes still hadn’t left yours, their piercing stare making you shiver despite the September humidity. You pulled your hand away, overly aware of how his fingers lingered a moment too long. Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you were starting to feel the asphalt dig into the soles of your feet. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you replied.

“Joel,” he insisted.

You nodded politely, giving him another faltering smile. Hauling your purse over your shoulder, you said a soft goodbye to them and bolted to your car. In the confines of the driver's seat, you rested your head against the wheel, inhaling deeply as you steadied the nerves inside your body. Why did such a simple interaction light up your body with emotions you had spent so long suppressing? And why did Joel’s smile haunt you even when your eyes were shut?

Forcing your keys into the ignition, you tore out of the school parking lot and back to the confines of your tiny blue home. 

The weekends were usually filled with nothing more than grading papers and lesson planning. The coffee beside you on the kitchen counter had gone cold hours ago as the morning sunlight faded into the afternoon. Through tired eyes, you glanced up at the oven clock: 2 pm. You needed a break from reading through piles of essays, and your fridge desperately required replenishing. Grabbing your keys off the counter, you forfeited any plans of changing out of your sweat set and headed to the supermarket.

The packed parking lot and crowded store were daunting reminders of why you typically decided to leave your fridge vacant. But as you pushed your shopping cart down each aisle, you had no choice but to comply with your basic human needs and stock up on miscellaneous food you would want throughout the week. Rounding down the next aisle, your eyes caught on a tall figure standing in front of the bakery section, his face scrutinizing every cake in the display case. Shit. 

You tried—and failed—to maneuver your way into the next aisle, somehow crashing into an older woman’s cart, forcing her carton of eggs to fall and smash onto the linoleum floor.

“Dammit,” you hissed, crouching down to try and help them clean up the shattered eggshells.

“S’alright, sweetheart,” she assured. “I’ll just holler for a worker to come clean it up.”

“No, I—I can help,” you stammered, fingers still running over the broken yolks spreading across the floor.

“Miss Smith?” You heard a deep voice above you.

Your head snapped up to see Joel standing above you; his forehead creased with concern. The woman you had crashed into was already down the next aisle looking for a store employee, leaving you alone with a mess you had caused. Joel crouched beside you, his hands folding over yours to slow your frantic cleaning.

“It’s alright, I got it!” You snapped, pulling your hands back.

“Just tryna’ help,” he said. “That’s all.”

“It’s my fault. I can fix it.” 

You had said those words to yourself many times before, and never once did they prove true. 

“Someone will come and clean this up; you ain’t gotta do all that,” Joel said softly. “C’mon.”

He offered a hand, which you took reluctantly, leaving you both standing awkwardly in front of the mess. You shifted your gaze downward, too afraid to meet those deep brown eyes that had plagued you the night before. 

“Hey,” Joel said in a soft tone. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You huffed a sigh, gripping the handles of your cart to start moving. Today was going downhill rapidly, and you only wanted to go home and hole yourself away…like you always did.

“I, uh, was tryna’ pick out a birthday cake,” he rambled. “S’my birthday tomorrow, and Sarah wants to make sure I have a cake, ya’know? Any ideas on what she might like? I’m not sure if y’all ever have parties at school with sweets and all that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, a scowl forming on your face. Sarah’s dad was asking you what she liked? He was proving to be worse and worse by the second. But you were her teacher and needed to hold your tongue.

“I’m sure she’ll enjoy anything,” you said, a tight smile forming. “Happy birthday, Mr. Miller.”

His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly seeing through the mask you put on. It was infuriating how easily he had wove his way through your bloodstream, even in just twenty-four hours. 

“Joel,” he insisted. “You don’t need to do all that formal stuff.”

“I kind of do,” you laughed. “You’re my students’ father; that’s how I’m supposed to address you.”

“S’all I’m sayin’ is that you’re free to call me Joel. No harm in it.”

There was a lot of harm in it. 

You didn’t know what else to say, so you dipped your head to say goodbye and pushed your cart past him. You weren’t being the kindest nor the most respectful person, but your anger was at a low simmer. Any longer around him, and you might explode. You weren’t used to someone getting under your skin like he was. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t understand why you reacted so strongly. 

“Miss Smith!” Joel called, catching up as you moved down the next aisle.

You inhaled and stopped walking, mustering another fake smile to appease him. He gripped the side of your cart with a large hand, a simple gesture to keep you firmly in place. Clearly, he decided when the conversation was over.

“Yes, Mr. Miller?”

“Did I do somethin’ to upset you? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t mean anything inappropriate by what I said back there. 

“No, no, you’re fine,” you lied. “Just having a bad day, that's all.” That wasn’t a lie.

Joel ran a hand over his neck, studying you quietly for a moment. Something about the atmosphere around him was intoxicating and so fucking dangerous. 

“Well, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Guess I was just tryna’ make small talk, and clearly, I ain’t doin’ a good job.”

“It’s fine—no need for apologies. I hope the cake and birthday celebration go well. I’m sure Sarah will tell me all about it on Monday.”

His eyes shifted over you again, lingering on your lips, set in a firm smile. You tried your best to hide the shiver that ran up your back as he drank you in. 

“Y’probably think I’m a terrible dad, huh?” He sighed.

“What?” You blinked away the thoughts swarming your head.

“I mean, I know you probably heard us arguin’ last night, and I’m out here asking her teacher what her favorite kind of cake is. You ain’t gotta be polite about it. I know I’m not doin’ the best job,” he confessed.

“Mr. Miller, I don’t think that at all. I just think maybe asking your wife would be more helpful than asking me.”

That garnered a laugh from him, a genuine and sincere laugh.

“Never had a wife to begin with. Sarah’s mom left us when she was only a year old,” he explained. “Been doin’ it all on my own.”

“Oh.” Dammit, you really were a bitch. 

“Trust me, I get it. I could do a better job, bein’ a dad and all that. I’m tryin’.”

“I think you’re doing just fine,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

He brushed it off, replacing the sad look cresting his eyes with a lopsided grin. You wanted to hate it, but your body reacted traitorously. You felt the softness in his gaze crawl over you, slowly replacing the anger coursing through your veins with something else…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. No one had looked at you that way since—well, since Bennett. Even if Joel was only being friendly, you were drawn to the charm he exuded. Dangerous, you reminded yourself.

“Anyway,” he continued. “I won’t hold ya’ up any longer. I hope your day gets better, Miss Smith.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “And Happy birthday, again.”

Joel’s eyes settled on your lips again as you talked, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. His eyes flicked back up to yours, a flash of something behind them, and you were ready to bolt. He muttered a thank you and left you standing in a vacant aisle, your hands still covered in egg yolks and your mind reeling.

It was hard to maintain your good mood once Monday rolled around. Seeing Sarah sitting in class was an unwelcome reminder of your interaction with Joel on Saturday, and you had to refrain from overstepping boundaries and asking about his birthday. She didn’t need to know you cared, even though you struggled not to care. You wondered what kind of cake he decided on, how old he turned if he blushed when she sang Happy Birthday. Every thought burned a hole in your head that you tried to patch up and forget. 

The final bell rang for the day, and the kids began to pack up in a rush. You straightened out the papers lining your desk, avoiding eye contact with Sarah as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lined up to leave. Grabbing your whistle and bottle of water, you followed them toward the front gates, taking your usual place alongside Maria—who was overly chipper for a Monday.

“Soooo,” she prodded. “How was your weekend?”

“Uneventful,” you lied, walking with her to the crosswalk. 

“You really need to go out and have fun! You’re young, and you need to enjoy your 20s!” She exasperated. 

“Maria, I’m 27,” you groaned. “My 20s are practically over.”

She folded her arms over her chest, leveling you with a heavy glare. Maria was in her late 40’s and clearly exuded a motherly-type attitude. You shifted your focus to the kids crossing the road, watching as they reunited with their parents. 

“We go out on Wednesdays for Happy Hour! Join us this week,” she suggested.

“I don’t know,” you sighed.

“Come on!” Maria pressed. “If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go out with us again.”

There was no point in arguing with her, so you relented and agreed to one night out. A few drinks and hours of mindless conversation could be good for you. It would be better than sitting in front of the TV with a bland meal and another glass of wine.

You managed to evade all thoughts of Joel somehow the next two days, putting all your time and energy into prepping your students for their first test of the year. Lesson planning and preparation took up your free period and late evenings, leaving you little room to think about those brown eyes and disarming smile. It was Wednesday evening, and you were knee-deep in your closet, trying to find an outfit for Happy Hour. You had changed at least five times, discarding every top and skirt onto your bedroom floor. Eventually, you gave up, settling on tight jeans, a flowy red blouse, and black flats. You left your hair in wavy curls over your shoulders and simple makeup to balance everything out. 

The group took their Happy Hour rituals to a local dive bar on the outskirts of town, a row of motorcycles and trucks lining the entrance. You felt a bit out of place walking into a smoke-hazed bar, with the patron's wandering eyes crawling over you, but you quickly picked out the huddle of teachers in the corner laughing over a round of beers. They welcomed you with bright smiles and hellos, offering to buy your first drink. After about an hour and a few drinks, you felt warm and far more relaxed. Conversations about quarterly goals and admin meetings flowed over the table, each teacher complaining about something. You chimed in when necessary, keeping quiet when you had nothing to contribute. You were on your fourth beer when the girls around you started whispering low about a group of men entering the bar. You stole a peek over your shoulder, eyes settling on the last person you wanted to see. 

Joel Miller.

He had on his usual simple work attire, the fabric of his cotton shirt stretched out over his broad chest. His neck was tanned, most likely from working outdoors, and his hair was just as unruly as you remembered. The man beside him, shorter but with similar features, clapped Joel on the back and steered him towards the bar. You lowered your head, taking a longer gulp of your drink to try and steady your nerves. Of all fucking places, he had to be here. 

“He’s just so handsome, isn’t he?” Maria nudged you, tossing back a look towards Joel.

You shrugged, feigning disinterest. Joel was handsome, but no one needed to know how you felt. Because what you felt was very, very confusing. 

“He’s my students’ father, Maria.”

She rolled her eyes, swirling the contents of her drinks before taking a sip. 

“Okay, and? There’s nothing inappropriate about dating a student’s parent.”

“Yes, there is,” you snapped. “And I’m not even considering dating him.”

“But you think he’s attractive,” she stated.

You didn’t want to respond to that, knowing the warmth in your cheeks was already enough of a giveaway. If you shrunk far enough into yourself, you might go unrecognized the rest of the night.

Maria thankfully dropped the subject, returning to the conversation around the table. After another hour, the ladies started to trickle out of the bar and home for the night. You, on the other hand, still had to wait a bit longer until the alcohol phased out of your body. Which meant you were sitting alone in the same space as Joel. You could feel his eyes on your back the longer you sat there, and to your detriment, decided to steal a glance over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes raked over your body, returning your stare with a soft, welcoming smile. Shit.

You watched as he slipped off the barstool, waltzing towards you with a beer clasped in his large hand. You tried so hard not to notice his thick fingers wrapped around the bottle, and you most definitely tried not to think of what his fingers would feel like inside—

“Miss Smith,” he greeted, silencing your awful thoughts.

“Mr. Miller,” you said.

“Are all these formalities necessary in a bar?” he teased. 

“A couple of drinks won’t change my mind.”

Joel slid into the seat beside you without an invitation, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the stool. It was instinct to flinch away, afraid of the reaction his touch would cause to your body. 

“What will change your mind?” he pressed, keeping a steady gaze on you.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “How was your birthday?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, that stupid lopsided grin forming on his lips. 

“Can’t say I love gettin’ old, but celebratin’ was sure nice.”

“And how old are you, Mr. Miller?”

“Ripe age of thirty-six, Miss Smith,” he grinned. 

“What cake did you choose?” you asked, watching him take a long sip of his beer. 

“Vanilla. Everyone’s gotta love vanilla, right?” 

Was he… flirting with you? 

You’d blame your following response on the beers coursing through your bloodstream, but truthfully, you just wanted to play along, even only for a moment. 

“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t always love vanilla, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, falling to your lips as you took another drink. It was bold and stupid of you to say that, but at this point, you didn’t care. 

“What other flavors do you like?” 

He leaned forward in his chair, his thigh pressing against yours. The heat of his body and the smell of smoke on his clothes was a dangerous combination for your self-restraint.  

“I have a few guilty pleasure flavors,” you smirked.

Joel’s hand damn near crushed the bottle when you said those words, his entire body tensing beside you. You couldn’t care at that moment about how you spoke; the drinks started speaking for themselves. You hadn’t dared to flirt with a man since Bennett left, too afraid of what falling in love again might do to you. But, for some reason, flirting with Joel felt so simple. He was older than you, and maybe that piqued your interest, knowing he was far more mature than anyone else you had considered. 

“Indulge me, Miss Smith,” he whispered. 

“I think I’ll leave it a mystery,” you whispered in return. “I’ve already said too much as it is.”

“I reckon you ain’t said enough,” he countered. 

Heat flared through your neck and face as he leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. This had gone too far. You had broken any rules you had previously set in place, and now you were dancing on a fragile line between professionalism and indecency. 

Glancing at the clock above the bar, you watched as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just like in the fairytales, your time was up. Back to reality. 

“It’s getting late,” you started. “I should get home.”

Joel’s demeanor shifted, and his grin faltered as he watched you rise from the barstool. He brushed his hand over your arm, barring you from walking away. 

“Not real sure if you should be drivin’ home yet, Miss Smith. Y’had a few drinks tonight,” Joel protested.

“How do you know? Were you watching me?”

“Gotta make sure my daughter's teacher is safe. Who else’s gonna make sure she gets straight A’s?” 

He was trying to make light of the situation, but you knew better. You knew he had been watching you since he had arrived; his attention had never been on his group of friends. 

“I assure you, I’m fine,” you argued. “You go enjoy your night with your friends, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s brows furrowed as he considered you. His hand still lingered on your arm, thick fingers flexing against your skin. You glanced between his hand and his eyes, trying to make sense of his intentions. This was far past a coincidental run-in; this was a strange desire out of reach. 

“Can I drive you home at least?” He asked. 

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“Can I at least drive behind you to make sure you make it alright?” He offered.

You looked back toward the bar, seeing the man he walked in with staring at you with an apparent scowl.

“I don’t think that’s fair to your friend,” you said.

Joel peered around you and huffed loudly. 

“That’s my brother, Tommy. S’all good, he’s probably ready to hit the road, too.”

“He doesn’t look too happy.”

“He’s fine,” Joel grumbled.

Tommy noticed you both staring at him and decided to join the mix. He walked up with a grin despite the scowl he had just worn and extended his hand to you.

“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”

“Hi, I’m Sarah’s teacher.” You gave him a quick shake and tried to sidestep to leave.

“Wait!” Joel called out.

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. “Be safe tonight.”

You made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape him before he reeled you back in. You let yourself float in his atmosphere for too long, testing the waters you knew were off-limits. There was still an alcohol-induced haze lingering in your head, but the sooner you could leave, the better. Tomorrow would come with a headache and a post-drunken clarity to put you back on the right track. You needed to steer clear of Joel before you slipped up and allowed another man inside the walls you built. 

You attempted to retrieve your keys from your purse, only to fumble them out of your hands and onto the dirt ground of the parking lot. 

“Fuck,” you groaned.

As you bent to pick them up, footsteps crunching on the ground grew closer. You already knew who it was.

“Miss Smith,” Joel’s voice sounded pained. 

“I’m fine!” you shouted, whipping your head around to find him nearly toe-to-toe with you. 

The moonlight above you illuminated his brown eyes, which darkened the longer he looked down at you. You shrunk away, letting your body hit the driver's side of your door while Joel stepped closer. 

“Please. You shouldn’t be drivin’ right now. Lettin’ you leave like this wouldn’t be right of me.”

Your only focus was on his lips as he talked. The plushness of his lips enticed you, leaving you imagining how soft they’d feel pressed against yours. Your control was slipping, and the alcohol was pulsing faster in your veins. 

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” You wondered aloud. 

Joel looked at you like he knew the layers of the question. He knew what battle you were fighting inside and saw the fear plastered on your face.

“No,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes bounced between his eyes and his lips, trying to grasp the moment's weight. You needed to be firm and say no; your future self would thank you for it. Gripping your keys, you exhaled and turned towards your car door. 

“Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. 

The warmth of his body pressed against your back, the smell of smoke and liquor wrapping around you and enveloping you in a cocoon of temptation. Joel’s hands reached around to grab your keys from your shaking hand, dangling them between you and the car. 

“M’taking you home, Miss Smith. Ain’t gonna argue anymore,” he said as his mouth fell to the shell of your ear. 

“I’m—.”

“Don’t,” he interjected. “Go to my truck.”

He had the exact tone you did when you reprimanded your students, but the deep rasp of his accent made it all the more inviting. You didn’t want to listen to his demands, but you were getting nowhere successfully. Joel sidestepped to free you of the cage he had you in, watching you intently as you sulked to his truck. It wasn’t hard to know which one it was; only a few cars were left, and the truck exuded the same masculinity as the owner. 

“What about my car?” You protested, folding your arms across your body as you leaned against the truck. 

“I’ll give Tommy the keys,” he said. “He’ll drive it behind us.”

You were about to ramble another slew of protests when Joel yanked the passenger side door open and tilted his head toward the interior. 

“Get in.”

His tone left little room for arguing, so you did as he said without another word. Despite the anger radiating off his body, Joel shut the door softly before heading back into the bar. 

You fidgeted with the seatbelt, the press of it against your chest not strong enough to stabilize the rhythm of your heartbeat. You were in his truck, meaning you’d be alone with him for the next several minutes. It was enough to force a roll of nausea through your stomach. Leaning your head against the window, you watched him reemerge from the bar with Tommy in tow. There was a clear expression of annoyance etched on Tommy’s face, all at the cost of your own stubbornness. 

Joel tossed him the keys to your car before rounding the truck's hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you kept your eyes on the road as it blurred past with each passing mile. 

“Where do you live?” he asked, passing through another vacant green light. 

You rambled off your address, still keeping your gaze steady on the streetlights as they passed by your window. He didn’t attempt to make small talk after that, and the silence settled onto you like a heavy blanket. Your control of consciousness was slipping the longer you sat beside him, but you willed yourself awake. The streets started to become familiar, and you shifted in your seat. Taking a risk, you looked at Joel, finding him white-knuckling the wheel with his jaw clenched. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I—I don’t go out and drink normally. I should have just stayed home tonight.”

“S’okay,” he said, glancing at you. “Just don’t get why you’re so stubborn about askin’ for help. First at the supermarket and now at the bar. I don’t get it.”

A rush of tears stung your eyes, and you quickly looked away, trying to blink them back before he noticed. Joel’s hand fell onto your thigh, sending a jolt of shock through your body. You wanted to shy away from it, but there was no use in fighting at this point; you were already failing miserably. 

“Hey,” he prodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, alright?”

You swiped away the tears running from your eyes, schooling your emotions back into a state of numbness. Your little blue house came into view, and you pointed a tired finger toward it to guide him in the right direction. 

“This is me,” you sniffled. 

“Big ol’ house, Miss Smith. Y’live here alone?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller.”

“I really wish you’d stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, parking his car at your home's fence.

“It’s all formalities.”

“Yeah, I know. I just think after tonight, we’re far past all them formalities and shit.”

Your hand lingered on the door handle as you took one last look at him. Joel’s eyes looked over you with a softness you didn’t deserve. You deserve to be happy. Maria’s words rang out in your head the longer you stared at him. ‘Happy’ was a foreign word to you now, out of reach and out of your control.

“Can I just know one thing?” He asked. 

You nodded, your fingers wrapped around the door handle.

“What’s your name?”

Blame the alcohol…blame your vulnerability…but you told him.

[mysticfics0]

How he’d take you pt.2!!!

Synopsis: Life after Yandere Nanami takes you <333

Warnings:Manipulation, starving, breeding kink, sex, size difference.

MINORS DNI!!!

When Nanami first took you he knew you’d be scared for awhile but it’s been nearly five months! And he’s starting to feel needy :( (Poor baby you don’t know how much this hurts him!)

The day before taking you he’d stalked up on everything you like! (The healthier versions obviously tho!!! Gotta keep his most precious angel healthy!)

But you’d barely touched anything he got and it was going bad so he’d rebought stuff many times now! :(( (Secretly he’d been eating some of it too he needs to like what you like!)

Until one day he got fed up. If you weren’t going to eat then he’d take away your food. He left a note on the fridge saying he’d be gone for a few days. 

So eventually you crawled out looking for something to eat. But when you checked the fridge…mustard, ketchup and spinach??? And the mini fridge was empty so you checked the pantry. Sprinkles?!!! Where was all the food?! 

For the first two days you’d managed to convince yourself he was just kidding around and would send food or come home early. But by the third day you realized something. He wasn’t coming back for five days. Just like he said. 

So you’d pull out your little flip phone (He’d especially gifted it to you with the only capabilities being offline games along with texting and calling him!!!)

“Answer…answer…please answer Nanami!” You scream whispered to yourself until he finally picked up. “Yes angel?” Usually he’d be asking if you were okay but he was acting so nonchalant about everything! 

“When will you be home?” You asked carefully. “Just two more days after today why?” He’d ask as if this wasn’t his plan all along. “P-please come home! P-please I-i miss you! I-I just please come home! I-I’m hungry please! I’m sorry! I’ll listen from now on!” 

Oh the smirk on his face was perfect. His plan had worked perfectly. “Promise? You’ll behave?” He asked “Promise! P-please I’ll do whatever you want!” You managed to get out. 

“I’ll be home soon Angel” he’d then hang up and the usual time he would come home from work he came home, stalking up the food fridge, pantry and mini fridge. Cooking dinner you gladly ate. And best of all. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

Over the next couple days you’d eat normally, wear what he wanted, did what he wanted until he finally felt he had you ready. 

That night he decided was movie night. He’d sit you on his lap and as the opening credits played he’d slip his whole lengthy cock into you! <333

Don’t worry it would only sting a little but the stretch would be so delicious! After all you were just so wet from him playing with your clit as he chose the movie! 

He’d rock back and forth, slide you up and down until the movie was eventually long forgotten and he had you pinned below him knees pushed up to shoulders in the meanest mating press! (Oh how he would breed you!)

“M-more Nanami!” You’d whimper out “Ken.” He’d say firmly “Call me Ken, a cute nick name right angel?” Oh he was so excited and it was hard not to just blow a fat load into your womb just from when you first rode him! “Y-yes Ken!” 

“You want my load angel?” He’d say, oh this was going perfectly “Want me to breed you? Turn you into a Momma? Belly all swollen with my kiddos?” He’d say sweetly, this was his dream scenario

“Y-yes! Please Ken! Breed me! Turn me into your mommy!” Oh and that’s all it took for him to bust, thick ropes of cum right into your womb. You’d for sure end up pregnant, he pulled out watching his load leak out of you. “That’s right. You’re mine, my momma.” 

Hope this was what you guys were hoping for pt 2!!! 

[sorchathered]

The Willows Never Stopped Weeping for You

Pairing-Tyler Owens x female OC (Olivia Wright)

Warnings- language, drinking, angst, death, injury, smut

Summary- Olivia let Tyler go to carry out his dreams, but broke his heart in the process. What happens when in the wreckage of a little small town he learns the real reason she left him, and how do they repair it?

A/N- we back at it again on the angst train, third week in a row lol!! I really loved this one, twisters was so good and I am excited to start writing for the fandom! As always, like, comment, reblog anything to let me know what you think!

“We’ve gotta get the hell out of dodge, we can’t sit here any longer Ty!” Dani is panicked, sweat dripping from their brow as they tremble, eyes wild and afraid of what will happen if they don’t make it out.

“I can’t- I can’t leave without her goddamnit and you know it, go ahead of me, you gotta trust me! We will make it out of here, get everyone to safety Dan, I’m serious get the hell out of here!” He yells over the roar of the wind, shoving them towards the rv and as much as it pains the crew, they know Tyler would die in this storm before he ever left Olivia behind. She was his everything, he’d loved her his whole life, and even if things were broken between them he would die a thousand times over to make sure she was safe.

——————————————————————

The crew had been up and down the state the past few weeks, working together with Javi and his crew to test out Kate’s theory and it had been one hell of a ride. They’d mostly been able to help keep the damage to a minimum, but as always with storms like these it was always a risk.

The little town on the outskirts of Enid had been ravaged more than once, but this storm seemed to be hell bent on taking whatever was left of the small community and turning it to rubble. So many injured, and so many homes and businesses destroyed, it seemed like a no-brainer that the government would send aid relief workers to help repair the damage, but what Tyler Owens hadn’t foreseen was the bright green eyes and auburn hair of his first love as he helped people in the aftermath.

Olivia Wright had been his everything since he was fourteen years old, occupied every one of his dirty fantasies and dreams of the future. He’d never been more sure of anyone in his life, until they’d crashed and burned so spectacularly shortly after college. He’d fallen in love with storm chasing, his dreams of working for the NWS had turned into something else entirely as he and the crew of misfits he migrated to became more and more obsessed with the beauty and danger these storms brought.

Liv had their whole future planned, finish college, get married. Ty would work for the NWS and she would become a nurse, fulfilling your passion to help people and getting to be by his side while he pursued his passion for meteorology. The two of them were growing apart, everyone could see it but him, and she knew she’d have to be the one to let go, he was always bigger than the whole sky and Liv couldn’t bear to keep him down. So she broke his heart and her own, and in that time she watched him flourish. His channel and all of his friends, the articles written about his discoveries, she watched it all with rapt attention, he was living out his dreams and Liv couldn’t have been more proud. Eventually she had to decide what was best for her, and watching storms ravage communities just like hers in Arkansas became too much to bear, working in disaster relief and helping to save lives became her passion, she kept her head down and let the work take over, but never lost hope that one day she’d run smack dab into that man that was as wild as the western wind.

It had happened less like a rom com and more like a horror movie, he’d seen her first and lost his cool immediately, ducking under an awning and scrambling to find somewhere, anywhere else to be but near her. Lily, who had been both of their friends in college couldn’t quite figure out what the hell was wrong with him, but it didn’t take long to spot her bright hair and the FEMA t-shirt Liv was sporting as she handed out water to a group not far from theirs.

“Oh my God is that my Livvy?!” She shrieked as she ran for her friend, the two of them erupting in giggles and swaying each other in the midst of the debris-covered road.

“Lily bug!! Oh my goodness what are y’all doing here?! I thought from your last video you guys were over near Lawton!” She said, smacking a hand over her mouth as she realized she’d given herself away already.

“Ooh so you have been watching hmm? Come say hi to everyone cutie pie, it’s been too long and we need to catch up.” She pulled her along but Liv tried to dig her heels in, wild green eyes panicked.

“I can’t intrude Lils, and I don’t want to make Tyler uncomfortable, I’m sure he doesn’t want to see me” she says as she puts both hands up in surrender but Lily is having none of it.

“Nope, you don’t get to pussy out Olivia, life is too short and you know it. Now come on! I want to hear all about your life, and Dani makes some bomb ass burritos so you should try to eat something, it’s gonna be a long day babygirl.

————————————————————-

He somehow manages to avoid her like the plague all day, catching glimpses here and there but mostly staying close to Kate and Javi, much to Lily's frustration if the glares she’s cut at him all afternoon are any indication.

Livvy wasn’t quite sure what to make of it; she had been watching them for so long online that she felt like she knew the crew personally, they were some of the kindest people she’d ever met and it wasn’t lost on her that all of them had been brought together by Ty. He’d made himself a family, it was just another thing that she had missed her chance on and she couldn’t help but feel a little emotional over it.

When Kate had come over to introduce herself later in the evening, it had been obvious to Olivia that she and Tyler had something going on. It was hard to dislike her, she was beautiful and kind, and smart as a whip from what Liv could tell. Definitely perfect for him, so after a while of watching them all interact and being all but ignored by her oldest friend, it got to be too much and she found a way to make her escape, using an early morning as an excuse and holing up in her motel room to lick her wounds and cry.

Lily chases after her with another nasty glare in Tyler’s direction, everyone had questions now and he couldn’t give them, waving them off with a middle finger as he stumbled through the parking lot, a little tipsy and feeling an ache in his chest that he’d thought he’d healed from.

“Liv! Stop damnit, I know this shit is hard but just talk to me honey, tell me.” Lily shouts into the crowded lot and watches her friend's shoulders sag as she turns with tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Oh Lily.” She lets out a ragged breath and lets it all wash over her, everything she’s left unsaid and held deep inside. “I could never deny him happiness, if it’s not with me that’s OK, it’s been a long time and I’ve learned to accept it. If Kate makes him happy then of course I want that for him. I never stopped loving him, so of course I would always want what’s best for him. It wasn’t right back then Lily, that kinda love was unpredictable. We were growing together like two gnarled trees, neither of us were helping the other reach our potential and I had to let him go so we didn’t end up hating each other. “ A shudder runs through her at the declaration, tears are threatening to seep from her eyes but she won’t give them the satisfaction.

“That sounds like horseshit and you know it” Lily says she jabs her finger into Liv’s shoulder, her eyes are full of fire. Liv knows she means well, she’s always been a good man in the storm, someone you want in your corner when things get hard which is why she’s so glad that Tyler has her. Liv lets her shoulders sag and look at Lily full of defeat.

“I can’t change it now, even if I wish I could.”

“Do you wish you could?” She says with raised eyebrow and Olivia gives her a little nod.

“Every day. I miss him every day.” Tears well up in her eyes and she shivers as the wind blows through the camp, but she won’t let the pain overtake her, she made her choice and she can only hope that he’ll be happy.

Olivia doesn’t see it but Lily does, Tyler is half hidden behind the RV, he’s heard it all and she watches as his face goes from grief stricken to angry turning on his heel as he walks off into the dark, the weight of her confession breaking his heart all over again.

—————————————————

He paces the concrete hallway of the motel for what feels like hours, letting the weight of what she said run over him. Had he really been so blind? Olivia hadn’t wanted to let him go, and he’d never thought to question it when she pushed him away. He had been hurt and stubborn, shutting down immediately and saying some of the meanest things he could hurl at her to hurt her back. In hindsight he should have known she was just trying to give him the ability to do what he wanted, but just the fact that she had convinced herself that she was what was holding him back made a fire rage in him. Sure it would have been hard to manage, but they could’ve handled it! They could handle anything together, he’d always told her that, why she would have ever thought otherwise was something he couldn’t reconcile with.

He was at her door before he could stop himself, rapping sharply on the peeling metal and praying that she would listen. The sounds of the lock being undone told him she was still awake, the door swinging open to reveal her puffy tear stained face, hair up in a messy knot on her head and an oversized t shirt full of holes, one that had definitely belonged to him.

“Why are you here Ty? You’d had all day to say something to me, and you waited until midnight?” She said with a sniffle, there was no point in trying to hide what she’d been doing, it was all over her face and his heart clenched in his chest knowing he’d hurt her again.

“You didn’t want us to end, did you?” He said gruffly, he wasn’t leaving until he got his answers, he needed to know the truth.

“What does it matter now? You’re with Kate-“ she said as more tears formed, arms wrapped tightly around her waist as though she was trying to hold herself together.

“I’m not. We tried it, but she’s got her own demons to work out, and we agreed it would be better to be friends. Answer my question baby, I need to hear it. Do you still want me?” He was leaning in close to the door frame now, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body and smell the beer on his breath. Liv let out a ragged breath and nodded, that was all he needed to push the door the rest of the way open and pull her into his arms, kicking the door shut behind him as he pressed kisses to her cheek and neck while she held on for dear life. Sobs wracked her body as he sat down on the creeky mattress, pulling her into his lap as he rocked her side to side.

“My sweet girl” he murmured into her hair, he let her cry it all out until she relaxed in his grip, tipping her chin up to look at him as he stroked her cheek.

“I never stopped hoping for this, I didn’t want to hold you back but- I can’t stay away anymore. I-I love you Ty, I always will.” She stuttered and he let out a groan as he pressed his mouth to hers, flipping them both so she was on her back and spread out for him, she’d been the star of every fantasy he’d ever had, and nothing would ever be as good as the real thing.

“I never stopped either Livvy girl, can I have you? Please baby I- I need it, need to show you how much I missed you.” He looks wrecked, hair a mess and eyes wild, and she can’t stop herself from pulling him down to her, licking into his mouth and running her hands over his broad shoulders, watching him shiver in her embrace as he grinds down into her.

They make up for all the time lost, re-learning each other's bodies until the early morning, finally coming up for air when Tyler’s phone begins to go off with weather alerts and texts from Boone.

“Looks like there’s another cell coming this way, we need to get these people to safety while we can.” He says with a sigh as he rolls his body off of hers, she’s sated and happy as she stretches her limbs like a cat and moans, he feels himself twitch in his boxers as he watches her. She’s like a siren, calling him back to her and he wants nothing more to than to stay right here between the sheets and ravage her again.

“Stop looking at me like that Owens, or we’ll never get out of here in time” she playfully punches his chest and he lets out a hearty laugh, they’d have plenty of time to talk and catch up, he wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight anytime soon.

“Ok, ok sugar, let’s get back out here, storms a comin’ and times a wastin’.”

——————————————————————-

He should have known. He should have known they’d never get that lucky, especially knowing how unpredictable the storms had been this season.

They thought they’d had more time, weather warnings saying the tornado would likely just pass the town, but it had all gone wrong. What had started out as one had turned into two, splitting off and causing maximum damage to what was left of the area. He’d lost Liv and Boone somewhere along the way, Kate and Javi and the rest of the crew were safely out of danger, but somehow the twister had gotten between his truck and yours, and when the dust had settled you and Boone were nowhere to be found.

He was sick, bile crawling up his throat as he trembled, they’d been searching the perimeter when he’d heard Boone screaming for help, tearing through the field of corn to find your upturned truck, mangled and covered in broken glass. Boone had tried his best to pull you from the wreckage, but his shoulder was mangled; most likely dislocated from the crude angle it hung from.

Tyler pulled Olivia’s limp body out and heard a sharp gasp from her, she was alive, that was good. At least that was what he thought until he got her in his arms and saw the jagged shrapnel wedged in her abdomen, blood flowing like a water hose from the wound, way too much to be a minor wound. She kept lolling her head back and forth as she tried to lift her hand to his face, god there was blood everywhere, he couldn’t take the metal out, what if that made it worse? He yelled for Boone to give him his shirt, tears pouring from his eyes as he tried to stop the bleeding, but it just wouldn’t stop coming.

“Livvy, baby look at me ok?” He says with a gentle pat to her cheek, her eyes keep rolling around in her head as she tries to focus on something, anything, but she just can’t seem to get there.

Finally she seems to see him through her unfocused bloodshot eyes, a small victory and he breathes for the first time since he found her.

“Oh god, Ty there’s so much blood! What happened? Are- are you ok? How do we stop it? We need help!” She cries out as her body shakes in his arms, she’s going into shock and bleeding to death but is still selfless to the end, always worried about everyone but herself.

He’s sobbing so hard now he can hardly speak, just kissing whatever skin he can get to as he holds her tightly, still pressing hard into the gaping wound despite knowing it won’t do anything to stop the inevitable. He’s going to lose her, and he just got her back.

A scream comes from somewhere, Tyler jolting awake from the world’s most uncomfortable hospital chair. He’s drenched in sweat, and his neck aches, as he looks around the dimly lit room he realizes the scream came from him. He’s replayed that awful night over and over for the past three days, it ends with Olivia choking on her own blood as she fades away and he can’t seem to make his brain understand that while it definitely happened that way, the end result wasn’t quite so gruesome. She’s alive, unconscious, but alive. How EMS found them in time will consume his thoughts for a good long while. He’d been so sure he’d lost her but the miracles just kept coming because somehow the doctors were able to save her and had assured him that though recovery would be long and hard she would in fact recover.

—————————————————————

Months later he would still be convinced it was all just a dream, the nightmares had ceased but the jagged scar along Olivia’s sternum would always be there to remind him of how close he’d come to losing it all.

He lived for chasing storms, he’d convinced himself it was everything he’d ever need after she’d left, but he’d been so wrong.

She’d never ask him to give it up, but he didn’t know if he could continue to run after something that had nearly taken everything from him. He and Kate took a job consulting with the NWS on her research after Ben’s article got traction, and he left his truck to Boone to continue the legacy and the channel. He wanted to prevent the storms from happening before they started and he knew with Kate’s research and the grants from the government they could really dig in and make a difference.

He asked her to marry him on her birthday, 6 months after the accident and she’d said yes before he could even finish his speech. The future hadn’t been linear like he thought, he didn’t have to accept what he thought he deserved and finally allowed himself to accept what he wanted. Olivia Wright Owens sounded damn good to him, and maybe one day a house full of babies. Yeah he could definitely make that his new dream.

Tagging- @sailor-aviator @goldenseresinretriever @hangmanapologist @roosterforme @trickphotography2 @mynameismckenziemae @seitmai @sebsxphia @im-just-ken @kmc1989 @jessicab1991 @dizzybee03 @nouis-bum @attapullman @bobgasm @floydsglasses @withahappyrefrain

[unspeakable-imagination]

Not the worst || Logan Howlett x Reader

My asks are OPEN and my matserlist is HERE

Reposts and likes are always appreciated

Just a drabble because I can't get it out of my mind. I was thinking abt this all night.

Cw: Oldman logan slander/ logan 2017 slander, hyping up worst logan hype, fluffy, angst, lots of bonding, probably gonna make them fall in love now sure, cannon-typical violence, cursing

Living as Wade Wilson's favorite neighbor was something eles. You and him were best friends, commonly taking time to watch my little pony or other similarly childish cartoons when Althea was out.

You were there when we left the x-men. You were there for him when Vanessa left him, there for him when he was to lost to find a job. You were there when you helped him pick is toupee, and you were there at his birthday party when he was kidnapped.

To say that it shook you would be an understatement. You'd been through so much and it physically pained you when you realized that whatever he was gone for, you couldn't help him. And two days later, he was back. And he wasn't alone. He came with a man, a wolverine. Or as you heard in passing, the worst one.

Logan loitered around the apartment more than you'd like, given that you could no longer peacefully watch ponies either wade, otherwise a grumbling logan would throw fit and slam doors.

Eventually, you just had to pull wade to your own apartment across the hall. And then the knocks came. Every time Wade was over, without fail, Logan would interrupt your buddy time, knocking on the door to whisk wade away for their weird- platonically gay relationship.

It took some time for you to recognize that Logan was lonely, too. And soon, it became the three of you having movie nights. It was hard not to come to enjoy the presence of the clawed man, and it went from you sitting awkwardly to the side while wade would constantly fail at cuddling Logan, to you in the middle.

Until tonight. Wade wasn't going to make it to your bi-weekly movie nights anymore, to busy pining after Vanessa. She was willing to tey and mend their relationship. It broke your heart to loose your best friend, but logan was there rubbing your back, comforting you.

"Atleast we don't have to listen to him run his mouth and spoil the whole thing," he'd reason to you. "You know that he would just ruin the end for you, or tease you when you cry."

Logan was right, but you loved watching movies with them. "But it sucks, he's my friend. I mean I get it, he's gotta chase her, he loves her, but we matter, too, don't we, Lo?"

"Of course, bub. There will always be more movie nights, and even if he can't make them all, atleast you have me?" And you did. For the next three weeks, without fail, Wade would avoid you both on designated movie nights, and Logan would come to your place for them, comforting you and picking out movies.

On more than one occasion you had fallen asleep on his shoulder or lap, and plenty of times you'd even let him sleep over him not wanting to wake the angry, coked up, blind batshit Althea. You began to neglect Wade, watching him finally win over Vanessa's heart, and watching Logan slowly move into your own place, shifting out of the other crowded apartment.

As the time for tour nightly movie drew nesr, you sorted the sofand the popcorn bowl, the lights and the TV, and set up the coffee table with assortment of other snacks and drinks that would last you two through the night. Various beers and even a cigar.

Logan had just gotten home from his job and gone to shower while you set up. His shower was quick, like it usually was, and by the time he was done, you were snuggled on the sofa in a faux sherpa throw. He settled down next to you and you handed the remote to him. In the weeks that Logan had been living with you, you couldn't deny the way you began to develop feelings. He was attractive and capable, and while he seemed rough on the exterior, he was truly tender hearted and did care about your feelings.

That's what made it so hard to bring up that you knew the other, much older-looking, dead logan from your timeliness.

It was just a week after the Manchester incident when Logan and Xavier had fled to Mexico, finding you along the way. They pulled you into their group with Caliban and things took a shift in your day to day life. No longer accounting for the tracker mutant, you spent your time helping him give the professor shots and medication. You were one of the few people, one of the few humans, that had an opposite gene mutation. Instead of getting the X gene, you got something eles, something that made you invulnerable to mutant powers.

You were the perfect person to medicate the senile telepath. You were there to see far too many events unfold that traumatized you. That made you realize that Logan wasn't the person on the pedestal that everyone else thought him to be. He was a stupid drunk, hellbent on killing himself, and the only thing stopping him shifted from the professor to his daughter. And it was horrifying, the way that so many things in his life were kept so well behind closed doors. It's horrifying that the media portrayed him in such a well light, and it was dishonorable that every food company used him to poison food for all of mutant kind, and he didn't do anything to stop it.

After he died, you had found yourself at the X-mansion, being the person to relay the news to Colossus and the other surviving xmen. To show their gratitude, they let you stay there, and eventually, you met the asshole burn-victim lookalike.

Logan noticed your shift in mood, the aura around tou changing. "[Name]?" He leaned towards you and you shook your head, returning to the present. "I was asking what you were in the mood to watch?"

"I need to tell you something." It was sudden and Logan swore he felt his heart drop to his stomach. You brought you hand to your mouth, anxiously chewing on your nails as he looked at you.

"I'm sorry for keeping this from you for so long, but I knew the other logan. I knew the other you. And every time I've heard you walk about yourself being the worst logan- well, it's not true." Your eyes glossed are and you swore you'd cry. He shifted, rotating, bringing his knee up so he could face you better. Reaching to put a hand on your cheek.

"What do you mean, bub? You knew Logan?" You nodded, almost pitifully and your cheeks began to feel warm tears drip down them. He gently wiped them away. "What do you mean, though? Everybody tell me about how amazing this world wolverine was."

"They didn't see him behind closed doors, they didn't see him at the end like I did. Laura- she was just a kid. She only idolizes him because he died for her- but that doesn't make him good." You used your hand to dry some more of your tears.

"He was a peice of shit and only cared about himself until he knew he was dying. He was insistent on ending it and only found his release by getting skewered on a tree-root." Your emotions shifted from sadness to bubbling anger.

"There was an incident, when Xavier's brain began to go. I mean, a degenerative brain disease in thw worlds most powerful brain?" You paused. "He took him away, and he found Caliban and I along the way to help him. He left everybody behind, too, not just you. Maybe it's a Logan thing. It was funny, really. He was acctually planning on Leaving Caliban and I behind anyways. Saving up buy for a boat to live in the ocean where Xavier and him could just die peacefully." His face fell as he listened. "He was disgusting. Worse than you. You've proven you're a million times better. I mean- he is the reason why we have so little mutants left. Why children are pushed away into boarding schools or segregated just because they have powers."

Logan was silent as he took his time to absorb all the Information you just shoved apon him. "Wow," he breathed. "I really am a peice of shit everywhere."

"No logan, you don't understand. You, and I mean the you sitting in front of me isn't! You're amazing. You helped wade, you helped Laura leave the void. You helped me! God dammit, logan I love you. You've been nothing but amazing and so refreshing. You're somebody who acctually appreciates this life and living now. You're the best person out there."

His eyes nest buldged when you said you loved him, his heart rate picked up and by the time your final words left his lips, he swallowed them whole and kissed you. His hand on your cheek curved around the back of your neck and pulled you close, his other hand stabilizing his lean.

He pulled back just to place his forehead on yours. "Fuck, [Name], you have no idea how much a cherish your words. You've been encouraging me for so long and I've been so anxious I've taken you for granted, but I havnt. You don't understand how much you mean to me."

"I think I do, Logan. I feel the same way."

Don't get me wrong I think old man logan is attractive, but I had to look at it from a bad pov because Logan really was an ass in that. Movie was great and I'm still heavily attracted to all (even the bitchy versions) of him. Can't get over it.

[whore-ibly-hot]

What Friends are For.

Yandere!Best Friend x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: AFAB reader (not the case with all my stuff.), yandere content, smut, dub-con, manipulation, corruption kink, overstepping boundaries, toxic friendship.

(An: My first smut, not exactly my best, it's been in the drafts a while 😑. If you enjoy, leave a comment or feel free to request something!)

💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿💜👿

You sigh as you roll over to look at your best friend Carl, who seems more focused on his phone than the movie that blares from his TV. When he invited you to this sleepover, you didn't expect him to act so off. The whole evening he's been a little strange, constantly fidgeting and looking at you when he thinks you're distracted.

Suddenly, a knock sounds on the door of his room, and his older sister Sherri pokes her head in with a smile. "Hey guys, me and Dan are gonna go to a checkup for the baby and see a movie after, are you two good to stay here?" She asks. "Yeah, we'll be fine, we're not babies-" Carl mumbles as he shifts from his spot on the bed, dropping his phone onto his lap. Sherri rolls her eyes, and exclaims that she was just trying to say goodbye. "I'll see you later, Sherri!" You smile sweetly as she nods in response and bids you farewell. You hear the downstairs door slam as her and Dan leave, saying something about calling the babies doctor.

"It's really cool Sherri's having a baby, Don't ya think?" You ask, turning over to Carl. He shrugs, clearly not too enthused about the whole ordeal. "I guess, she's kind of a pain in the ass with all the, uh-" He thinks "Hormones n' shit." You let out a small laugh. He grins in response and leans back against the window frame just above his bed. "But, at least now that she's pregnant I don't have to hear them fucking upstairs everynight." He shudders as he recalls the many sleepless nights of him clutching a pillow over his ears in an attempt to drown the explicit noises. You fake a gag in response. He then groans, flopping over and burying his face in the pillow. "Having to hear that shit isn't exactly great for trying to get off, fuck I'm backed up." You look up, your brows creased in confusion. "Um, 'Backed up'?" You repeat, confused. "Y'know, like, I haven't gotten any in a while?" He says, sighing when your confusion doesn't lessen at his crude explanation. "I haven't fucked lately. That's what I mean." Your eyes go wide and you look down at this. "Oh, I'm sorry?" You respond, unsure how to approach that situation. You're not familiar with anything of that nature, especially not when it comes to guys anatomy.

"Nah, you ain't gotta apologize. It's not like you can help." He says coyly, glancing at you while trying to suppress a grin. He watches as you sit with a serious expression, deep in thought. "Well, maybe I could help..." You eventually mutter, only making his grin grow wider. He knows he's got you now. "I mean, I'm not gonna say no." He pats the bed beside him, and you nervously stand to sit beside him. "I don't really have any, um, experience with this stuff." You admit, and he only nods understandingly. "It's okay, I happen to be an expert with this stuff, just do what I say, alright?" He asks. You nod. "C'mere." He pats his outstretched legs and leans up against his headboard. You slowly climb up onto his legs, trying not to be clumsy. One of his hands immediately moves to your hip, while the other cups one of your breasts through your shirt. "What are you doing?" You ask, feeling his hands explore parts of you. "Well, I can't just get it up right off the bat, I gotta get ready." He explains.

"Fuck, you look good, but-" He pauses, making you look at him with concern. "I don't know if it's gonna be enough." He sighs. He knows he's lying, just getting to touch your over your clothes gives him enough jerk-off material to last him for the next year, but you don't know that. You're so eager to help, and god, he knows you'd look even better naked, letting him touch and use whatever he wants on you. "What should I do?" You ask, not wanting to disappoint him. "Take off your shirt." He winces at how over-eager he seems, and tries to correct. "Uh, it would help, I mean." You nod, unsure. As you unbutton the front of your shirt, you feel a pit form in your stomach, making you feel a bit nauseous. You try to shake it off as just nerves, and soon your shirt is dropped off the side of Carl's bed. You sit still, looking down as Carl ogles your chest. "Look at this," He coos, touching the simply lacey bra holding your breasts. "Y'know, if I didn't know better, I would think you wore this for me." He snaps the bra strap, startling you. He laughs at the squeak of surprise you let out, before his hand slips to the back of your bra. You shiver a little as he unhooks the bra and lets it hang loosley from your shoulders. He pulls it down, now completely exposing your breasts to him.

He squeezes your left breast, trying to gauge your reaction. You tremble a little, the feeling of his hands on you is not completely terrible. "Yeah, feels kinda good, huh?" He whispers, and you can only manage a small nod. "Try doing this yourself, just rub them with your hands, try to be gentle at first if it feels bad." He says. Your hands shake slightly as you place them over your breasts, nervously beginning to rub the tender pink buds as Carl watches with a predatory gaze in his eyes. It feels odd and sensitive at first, but after a few moments small tingles shoot from your chest, making your breathing slow. "Yeah, there you go..." He eggs you on. Despite his massive hard on pressing against his pants, he fights the need to get off in favor of playing around with you a bit more. "Keep going for me, okay? I'm gonna try something real quick." He says.

Carl's hand lands on your thigh, slowly slipping under your skirt and grinning when they part slightly out of instinct. You continue to rub your chest trying to continue the good feeling and ignore the growing bad feeling that remains in your stomach. Carl looks up, watching your face as he cups the front of your panties. "Uh-" You gasp a little, feeling pressure on that very sensitive spot between your thighs. "Keep playing with your tits baby, I'm just explorin' down here." He coos, turning his attention back to his hand. He strokes over your panties, prodding gently at your clit. "Oh, C-carl?" You ask, the shock of pleasure emitting from the simple touch makes you jolt. "Yeah?" He asks. "What are you doing, down there?" You ask. "Nothing, just gonna make you feel real good. Why don't you help me out, strip these off for me, m'kay?" He asks, feigning sweetness. You nod softly, slipping the garments off your thighs. His finger begins rubbing your clit gently, the strange feeling practically making you buckle and fall down onto him. "Hey, it's cool, c'mon... you can lay on me." He encourages, his free hand pushing your weak frame down against him. As he continues rubbing, you feel a knot forming in the stomach, different from the nausea you felt earlier. You let out a few noises, too overwhelmed to be ashamed by the lewd sounds slipping from your lips.

"Mm- Carl, feels funny-" You choke out. "Come on, baby, I need more than that, can't just feel 'funny' when you're this wet for me." He chuckles. "Feels good, F-feels so good." As the feeling in your stomach builds, you feel overwhelmed and a bit frightened, but your instincts tell you to chase the feeling, You begin to jolt your hips against Carl's hand, only making his brows raise with his smile. "Woah, takin' the lead huh? You might be more sensitive than me, huh?" You don't respond, continuing to buck against his hand. "Oh god, something's happening, I'm-" You cut yourself off with a moan. "Gonna cum for me, fuck, I'll make you cum. Say how good I make you feel, c'mon." He pants, his cocky attitude fading to pure lust. When you don't respond, too wrapped up in pleasure, he pulls his finger back. You practically scream at the sudden lack of stimulation, feeling that high fading fast. "Carl, please-" You whine. "Say how good I make you feel." His tone is less friendly, and it makes you shiver, though you're too desperate to resist. "You make me feel so good, so good. Please, m-make me feel good again." You whine. He begins to rub again, but not nearly enough to get back that high. "Faster, please." You moan. He grins at how helpless and worked up you are, the feeling of knowing he's in control is almost enough to make him cum with you. "Say who's doing this to you, m'kay? Fuck, I want the whole neighborhood hearing you whore yourself out to me, c'mon." You whine again, but fulfill the request. "You, Carl. Y-your the one touching me, making me feel so good, A-ah..." A few more sudden strokes and you feel yourself coming undone, your pussy convulsing around nothing as you spout unintelligible phrases. The feeling is so overpowering that you collapse naked onto Carl's chest. Panting heavily, you glance up. He's got a boyish smile, and he moves to stroke one of the hairs from out of your face. "So good for me, huh? Such a good friend." As he says this, you remember the reason you did this in the first place. "But, I didn't help you, y'know..." You trail off, suddenly shy after all that happened. He shrugs, and says "You did plenty, besides, we'll have time for me later." He says, You blush at the suggestion. "You mean you want to do something like this again?" You ask. He nods.

"C'mon, you're my best friend, and after seeing you like that, all needy and desperate, I'm not gonna end it here." He suddenly moves so he's now over you, with you pinned against his headboard. "It's gonna feel so good baby, you right here, under me. Fuck, your pussys gonna feel so fuckin' tight, letting me ram n' and out." He pants. Your face pales at the notion. This was supposed to be a one time thing, and you had planned on losing your virginity much later in life, to whomever you married.

"C-carl, I did this because you wanted help, I can't, I mean, I'm not ready to-" You pause. "Go all the way." His smile fades a little. "Why? You don't gotta be scared, I'll be gentle. I'm your best friend, remember?" He tries to keep himself calm, and not scare you off with his frustration. "But, surely there's other people who would do stuff with you." You say, trying to make some distance between you and Carl. "Course' there is. I'm a fuckin' smokeshow." He scoffs. "But I don't want to do it with anyone but you, got it? And you're not gonna do it with anyone but me." His voice is low now, and there is a glimmer in his eye you don't recognize. You shiver as you ask "W-why not?" He rolls his eyes. "Because, you offered to help me. You're not gonna hurt a friend, and break our promise, right? I still need your help." He coos, making you look away in guilt. "I guess..." You mumble, tensing when you feel a pair of lips on your neck. "That's my baby." He presses his weight gently against you.

"This is why you're my best friend."

[redskull199987]

Hey, can you do more Mike Schmidt x reader? i liked a lot the last storie that you made of him ^^

Hold on to your Life by Love

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request

Word Count:1.5k

Warnings:some blood and injuries, but it’s canon typical violence, BIG fluff follows, Like really big fluff, Movie spoilers

Summary:After the events at the Pizza-Plex, you finally get to enjoy a slow moring together with your boyfriend…

Masterlist

It was hard to keep your eyes open. You blinked rapidly, trying to stand back up, but your body was aching. Blood trickled down your chin and onto your Shirt. With a grunt, you pressed a hand onto the wound on your side, where the damn cupcake had bitten you. You slowly looked up, your eyes focusing on Mike's unconscious body a few Meters in front of you. Abby was sitting beside him, tears in her eyes, while she tried to shake him awake. Her head shot up, as she realized that you were crawling towards them.

“Abby..”, You uttered under your breath, reaching your hand out for the little girl,”The drawings…you n-need to show them…”

With the little strength you had left, you finally reached the two of them. Abby hastily grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to her and Mike.

“You gotta show them..”, you repeated quietly. Abby gave you a firm nod before you saw her taking off to rip an old sign off of a Vending Machine. She quickly found a pencil and started drawing away. 

You eventually tore your eyes away from her, over to Vanessa. She had tried to fend off Afton as long as possible, but he had her backed against a wall. Only now you saw the knife still stuck in Vanessa’s stomach. A visible gasp left your lips, as Afton pulled it out forcefully and Vanessa fell to the ground.

A chill ran down your spine and fear struck your body, as Afton turned around, a creepy smile on his face. He looked way too happy, considering that he had just stabbed his own daughter. He was about to make his way over to you and Mike, who finally seemed to wake up again. But all your attention was caught by Abby, who seemingly finished her drawing and was about to pin it on the wall. Afton could only watch in horror how she ripped the previous picture off and pinned her own onto the wall. It showed a yellow Bunny with a knife in hand, attacking and killing the children.

A few seconds of silence arose, before the entire building started shaking, like an earthquake had struck it. The lights started flickering violently and you saw that the Animatronics all turned their heads towards Afton.

“Abby?!”, You yelled and the little girl promptly came running towards you,”Help Mike to stand up.”She quickly nodded and helped her older brother to his feet, while you snuck over to Vanessa. Ignoring your own wounds, You took hold of her arm and pulled her to her feet. You saw that she was slipping in and out of consciousness.

“Come on, Vanessa. Don’t die on me.”, You mumbled while you carried her towards the Exit, where Mike and Abby were already waiting. A few seconds later, the four of you slumped to the ground in front of the Pizza-Plex, which was completely crashing down at the moment. If you had been a few seconds slower, you would be laying under all of that rubble right now.

It took you a bit to tear your eyes away from the building. Only now, you noticed that your entire shirt and hands were soaked in blood…Vanessa’s blood.

“Mike..”, You mumbled, looking up to your boyfriend,”Please tell me that your phone is still working.”

The penetrative noise of your alarm slowly made its way into your brain, as you lazily opened your eyes. You raised a hand to quickly push some buttons on the clock, effectively shutting it up. The few seconds of silence that followed, were like music to your ears. But then, a groan next to you pulled you back into reality. You felt a shuffling under the sheets and soon enough, big warm hands wandered over your body, taking a hold of your waist and pulling you closer.

A smile spread over your face, as you felt Mike nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, while he tangled his legs with yours.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.”, you chuckled, your hand now gently running through Mike’s hair. He only hummed in delight, choosing to spend a few more minutes in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's presence.

“We should visit Vanessa in the Hospital today.”, You proposed, looking down at your boyfriend. Only now, he finally opened his eyes, searching for your own. When he found them, he gave you a smile and a firm nod, before leaning up to softly kiss your temple:”Sounds good.”

“Just a few more minutes..”, You mumbled, closing your eyes again. 

You tried to concentrate on Mike’s hands, holding you close. His warmth, that was invading you. You put your entire focus on him, trying not to think of what you had dreamt about. Or rather, the memories that came back to you in your dream.

The horrific night at the Pizza-Plex. Mike’s unconscious Body, Vanessa’s blood on your hands. You tried not to think about it too much, but the fact that Vanessa was still in the Hospital and hadn’t woken up yet, made you incredibly nervous. What if she didn’t wake up again? What if it was your fault? That she gave her life to save you and you could do nothing to repay her.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

The sound of Mike’s raspy voice successfully pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts and you looked back down at him. Almost immediately, a smile appeared on your lips, as you saw his face.

“Oh you know, just what we should eat for Dinner today.”, You joked,”Do you think Abby will want Spaghetti again?”

Mike chuckled upon hearing your thoughts. He slightly parted from you, propping his head up on his arm:”She probably can’t decide again.”

“Probably."...", Mike smiled. He lifted a hand to gently push a strand of hair out of your face. You followed the movement of his hand, until it rested against your cheek. Only then, you looked up into his eyes. And what you saw almost made you tear up. Mike looked at you with so much passion and adoration, it made your heart clench.

“I love you.”, he mumbled, after a few seconds of silence, where you just looked at each other.

You couldn’t help yourself, Almost instantly, after those three words left his lips, you leaned forward, kissing him passionately. The two of you tumbled over, Mike now beneath you, while you sat on top of his hips. With a mutual chuckle, the two of you parted again. Your hands now rested on top of his chest and you could feel his heart beating rapidly. 

Mike only looked at you for a second, before he gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand towards his lips to leave some delicate kisses on your skin.

You felt heat rising to your cheeks and you quickly looked away. But you couldn’t hide the grin on your face. It was so undeniably obvious how much you were in love with Mike. And he knew it.

“Let’s get up to make breakfast.”, Mike said with a smirk. He knew what he did to you, but he was at least kind enough to not say it out loud.

You nodded at his proposal and slowly lifted yourself from him, but before you could react, Mike grabbed your other hand, pushing you down on the bed, so that your roles were reversed now, with him on top of you. 

“Got you”, Mike grinned, pinning your hands down on the sheets above you. You only gave him a playful huff, trying to free yourself, but his legs on either side of your hips didn’t leave any room for moving around.

“You know, there is a way to free yourself.”, Mike said, not able to hide the grin on his lips.

“And what would that be?”, You asked, faking to be not interested.

Mike quickly leaned down, whispering into your ear:”A kiss.”

A shiver ran down your spine, as he looked at you again. His eyes moved to your lips and he gave you a questioning look, like he was asking for permission. You nodded, almost unnoticeable. But Mike did in fact, notice it and it didn’t take him very long to connect your lips in a tender kiss. This one was different. It was oozing with emotions and both of you poured everything that you had into it.

When you parted a few moments later, the two of you were panting against each other's lips, enjoying the aftereffects of the kiss.

“Let’s get up now, hm?”, You mumbled, gently stroking Mike’s cheek to pull him out of his haze. He gave you a small nod and slowly stood up, pulling you along with him.

“Do you think Abby is awake already?”, You asked curiously, while the two of you started to get dressed.

Mike only chuckled at your question:”I’m betting on it.”

“Sure.”, You smirked,”Whoever loses, has to buy dinner.”

“Deal”, Mike smiled.

Secretly, you knew that you would lose. But it made your heart bloom with joy, when you saw the expression on Mike’s face when he realized he won. You’d pay a million meals, if it meant you could keep seeing his smile.

[dira333]

Assistant to the Hero Part II - Amajiki x Reader

Requested and beta'd by @fuzztacular , Part of my Follower Celebration

Part I - Masterlist

3,5 Months as his assistant

There are no more gifts on your desk.

Instead, you find them in front of your room at the most random of times.

One of your favorites, a blue piece of sea glass, sits next to your coffee cup one morning.

Amajiki’s sitting at the table just a few steps away, finishing his breakfast.

“Thank you.” You say, picking up the sea glass. He must have put it there while you went to the bathroom.

“It reminded me of you.” He says, voice almost calm.

“Because I’m blue?” You tease and hold it in front of your left eye as if to look through.

“It’s rare.” He says instead, a distant look in his eyes you cannot place.

-

Amajiki places a DVD on your desk just after lunch.

You glance down at the cover and back up to him.

“Where did you get that?”

“Mirio’s girlfriend lent it to me.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, blushing. “I told her you wanted to see it. It’s for movie night.”

“We can’t always watch what I want to see. You gotta pick the next one.”

He nods, a little smile pulling at his lips.

-

“Here.” You grab two Bento Boxes from the Fridge and present them to Amajiki. “I made us Lunch.”

“Oh?” He opens one of the Boxes. “Octopus sausage?”

“I’ll put the real thing in next time. You just have to tell me when you want Lunch and when you want to eat out, okay?”

“Yeah.” That little smile is back and you wish you could look at it a little while longer without being a creep.

-

It’s Tuesday and you’re on the Couch, hot water bottle on your stomach, chocolate open on the table in front of you.

Amajiki freezes in the doorway. “Did something happen?” He asks, whispering.

“Huh?” You look up from your book, sniffling. “Oh, no, I’m just… I’m on my period and I’m reading this book… This part is just really sad.”

“Why? What happened?”

“There’s this dog… His owner had a pet-food shop but died and he’s defending the shop in case his owner comes back…”

“And?” Amajiki’s now standing next to the Couch, peering down at you anxiously.

“The bad guys just destroyed the shop.”

“Oh no.” 

“Yeah.” You nod, wiping your eyes. “But there’s this guy, he’s a little silly, but he means well, and I think he’s going to help the dog take revenge.”

“Is he?”

“I don’t know yet, I’ve just read this, listen…”

When the chapter ends and your voice is hoarse from reading, the dog’s fate is still not decided.

It might be your Hormones speaking, but Amajiki seems interested in its fate just as much as you are so you pat the spot next to you and urge him to come closer, hold the book out so that both of you can read at once.

When it does end happy, you sink back into the cushions with a happy sigh.

“That was a good book.” Amajiki mumbles next to you.

“It was.” You hum happily, sleep pulling you in. “Do you read too?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of stuff?” You close your eyes as you speak. Just for a second, to rest your eyes, you tell yourself.

“I can show you next time.” He offers and you nod.

“Next Tuesday, kay?” You mumble, words a little slurred.

-

4,5 Months as his assistant

You’re in the middle of making Dinner when Amajiki comes home from the gym.

“I’m going to shower.” He says right after greeting, shuffling off to the bathroom.

“Kay, but don’t take too long. I’m making Takoyaki.”

-

Dinner is the time when Amajiki is the least nervous. 

He’s usually focused on his food, doesn’t have to listen, doesn’t have to look at you and you can’t help but use this to your advantage.

It’s the only time you really get to look at him, at the little satisfied smile that curls around his lips when he likes the food or how his nose scrunches up when he’s not that fond of it. He doesn’t have the biggest appetite, but with his quirk, he likes to try new things.

Tonight, his hair is still wet from the shower, a floppy, dark mess that’s only parted by his ears.

Your eyes find them eventually, and not for the first time you wonder if they’re sensitive. They remind you of cats ears and the thought of him as a little Neko has you dig into your food, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Do you want to go out for Lunch tomorrow?” Amajiki asks, voice a little shaky.

When you look up, surprised by his sudden question, the tips of his ears are red and a blush is working its way onto his face.

“I didn’t make a Bento Box yet, so if you want to eat out, that’s no problem.”

“No, I mean, yes… but, do you want to get Lunch… together?”

You blink in surprise. A thought hits you, its implications making your heart skip before you berate yourself. No, it’s definitely not a date, don’t get ahead of yourself.

“Sure. I’d love to. Where did you want to go?”

Amajiki doesn’t talk for a moment, mouth open as if he’s still processing your answer.

“Amajiki?”

“Oh, yes.” He snaps back to himself. “There’s a new restaurant down the street. They make Butter Chicken and you mentioned you like that.”

“Oh, Butter Chicken!” You clap your hands in excitement. “You know me so well.”

He chuckles and nods, turns back to his meal.

It’s a Tuesday, and just like the weeks before, he leaves for his room right after dinner to pick out the book he wants to read tonight. He gets the snacks and the drinks, preps the living room while you do the dishes.

Tuesdays, like Fridays, have become a thing in your household. On Tuesdays you read books, on Fridays you watch a movie. He doesn’t have that many other nights that he’s consistantly home at the same time as Patrol times love to change, but you find yourself next to him at least two times more each week, trying out some new video game his best friend recommended or watching the Hero news together.

It’s cozy and it makes you feel like you’re in a relationship, making it harder and harder to keep yourself focused on the truth. He is just a friend, you’re just his roommate. And his assistant.

-

On your way out of the agency, you meet Kirishima, who beams at you.

“Hey, long time no see. How are you?”

“I’m doing great. Are you going for lunch too? We’re trying out the new restaurant down the street.”

“I-” Kirishima stutters to your surprise. When you glance at Amajiki for backup, you realize why. Amajiki’s leveling Kirishima with a glare you’ve never seen on him before.

“Everything okay, Amajiki?” He seems to snap back to himself, shaking his head a little as if to clear his mind.

“Everything fine. Sorry, I think I zoned out a little. But I think Kirishima’s already busy. He mentioned something earlier, right?”

“Right.” Kirishima clears his throat awkwardly. “But have fun, you guys.”

-

It’s awkward at first. 

You’re used to eating with him, at the kitchen table in your shared apartment, where he’s as calm and collected as he can possibly be.

But it’s different out here. 

He barely opens his mouth, even though you get the table at the back. Once, twice his hand moves across the table as if trying to touch yours but he always pulls back. 

You wouldn’t have minded his touch, not if it would make him more comfortable and even less if it meant he was that comfortable with you.  

But he doesn’t seem to dare and you don’t either.

“This was nice.” You still point out when it’s time to pay. His mouth tells you that he’s getting anxious again, that thin, wobbly line you will always be able to recognize him by. “We should do it again.”

“Really?” He asks, his eyes on your shoulder to avoid eye contact while you watch the fingers of his left-hand play with the sleeve of his cardigan on his right arm.

“Really.” You nod to emphasize your point.

When the waiter arrives with the bill, Amajiki moves to pay.

“I got it.” He points out firmly when you still grab your wallet. “It’s on me.”

“You don’t have to-” You insist, only to be interrupted.

“You two are very cute.” The waiter, a middle-aged guy, all but swoons at your sight. “First dates are so precious, am I right?” 

Amajiki blushes up to the tips of his ears, but he doesn’t deny it.

And even though it’s not real, you don’t deny it either. 

Even if it’s just a silly little fantasy, it’s nice to live in it, if only for a moment.

-

6 months as his assistant

It’s Saturday morning and the sun is peaking through the window.

You need a minute to wrap your head around the fact that you’re sleeping on the Couch.

It’s warm and comfy under the blankets and if not for your bladder screaming at you, you could stay here forever.

As you slowly work at untangling your legs from the blanket, something moves by your side. With a low groan, Amajiki lifts his head, stretches out his arm, and pulls you closer toward him, settling his face in your neck.

You freeze. Are you still asleep? Did your usual dreams become hyperrealistic all of a sudden?

But his breath tickles your skin and you can’t imagine the weight of his arm over your chest, right?

A part of yourself - the part that doesn’t need to pee - tells you to go back to sleep. You’ll never get a chance like this if Amajiki was awake.

But the larger part of yourself screams at you to get up.

If Amajiki wouldn’t do this if he was awake you have no right to use his sleeping body to cuddle. Carefully you pick up his arm and slip out from beneath it.

When he grumbles, you grab a pillow from the floor and place it where you’d been a second before.

He pulls it closer just like he did with you and digs his nose into the soft fabric.

Amajiki looks, there’s no denying it, as cute as a kitten. 

Your hand darts out before you can stop yourself, to push a stray lock of dark blue hair behind his ear. His hair is soft and he sighs at the touch, relaxing further into the pillows.

You sigh. 

“Amajiki.” You whisper. No reaction. “I’m falling in love with you.”

He lets out a tiny snore and you swallow your emotions for yet another day and turn for the bathroom. If he asks about this, you’ll deny it ever happened.

-

You wonder if he can feel it.

The shift in the air. The new awkwardness that wasn’t there before.

How your eyes seem to get stuck on his mouth whenever you talk. 

You’ve always been hyperaware of him, but this is a different level.

Your body cannot decide where it wants to be. Near him, where you can see and smell and touch him, or far far away from him where you can forget that this isn’t a thing. You’re just roommates, coworkers, maybe friends.

There’s no denying that you need a little space, so you skip lunch with him in favor of locking yourself in a bathroom stall and calling Kyoko.

“Are you sure you don’t have a chance?” She asks, always the voice of reason.

“We have a good thing going on.” You say instead. “I work for him. I don’t want to jeopardize that. I wouldn’t be able to look at myself if I was the reason he feels no longer safe at work.”

“Well, you know the theory of getting over feelings like that. But are you ready to put that into practice?”

“What do you mean?” You know exactly what she means. You just don’t want to hear it.

But Kyoko isn’t your best friend because she keeps the ugly truth to herself. 

“You will have to move out. I know that this is part of your ‘good thing’ but you cannot stay there and get over yourself. Imagine how it would be if he brought home a girl.”

Her words are like knives to your heart. Wet stains appear on your skirt and you realize that you’ve started crying, soundlessly.

You really, really, really don’t want to move out. You don’t want to lose what you have, but this is the real world. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.

“Okay.” Your voice sounds almost normal and Kyoko does not comment on it. “I’ll start looking. Talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, take care.”

The call ends and you lean back, rest your head on the wall, and pull your knees up to your chest. Not the most comfortable position to sit on a toilet seat, but you’re not at your most comfortable to begin with.

The door opens. You freeze, well aware of how you must look. You put on Mascara this morning, the non-waterproof-kind. You will not show yourself to anyone until your makeup is fixed.

“No one here.” A voice says from the door. “So, what’s the tea?”

“I heard Kirishima started dating someone.”

“What? No.” The first voice groans in annoyance. “I mean he was kinda silly, but he was hot. And he’s going to be one of the major sidekicks in no time. He’d earn so much money. Goodbye work, hello life of a stay-at-home girlfriend.”

“I know, right? Apparently, it’s some girl he went to school with.”

“Ugh, don’t tell me it’s that Heteromorph Pinky. He doesn’t have any taste. But what else is new?”

“Well, Suneater is dating too.” 

Your heart freezes, stops after one painful last thump. What?

“That’s old news. How long has that been going on? I told you that girl only got the job as his assistant because he told Fatgum to put her there. They’ve been dating way before she became his assistant.”

“Do you think so? They didn’t seem that close.”

“Yeah, but Kirishima was so over the moon when she got the position, I tell you that they had a thing going on. Also, remember how she told me off when I tried to talk to Suneater? I work inAccounting, my role is way more important than hers.”

“Well, cheer up.” Accounting-girl’s friend seems annoyed now. This topic must be old news too. Your mind’s still reeling from what you’ve just heard.

They think that you’re dating Amajiki? You? That you got the job because of him?

“I heard that Lemillion is going to switch to our agency. This is top secret, but apparently, he and his girlfriend broke up and he wants to put some distance between them. It makes sense for him to move to his best friend's side, right?”

“Oh, Lemillion is hot! And he makes even more money than Suneater because he knows how to talk to people. I’ll keep an eye on the books. We have to look our best when he comes in.”

Someone’s phone chimes and shortly after that, silence falls over the room. 

You’re still catching your breath, reeling from all the revelations and your heart’s reaction to it.

If you react like this to the mere mention of Amajiki dating, Kyoko is right. You need to get some distance between the two of you.

And while you don’t know how much of the other gossip you should believe, there’s a point there that you cannot deny.

Lemillion is Amajiki’s best friend. If he broke up with his girlfriend, it would make sense for him to come back, and claim his old room again. You wouldn’t put it against him to want the comfort. But you’re in the way of said comfort.

You know what you must do.

-

7 months as his assistant

Finding an apartment isn’t easy, even when you’re not picky.

You know you can’t move back to where you came from. There is no argument that Amajiki or Kirishima would believe, no reason for you to go back to that. You earn nowhere near enough to be able to afford an apartment in the district you’re living in right now, so you search a bit further away from the agency. 

With your portion of the rent being so low and Amajiki constantly demanding to pay when you go out for lunch, you’ve saved up quite a bit, but you cannot use that to pay for your rent. So you widen your search parameter even more.

When you find one apartment that’s actually feasible, it comes with a one-hour drive and the last train leaves at six. To make that, you’d have to leave early every day and while you know Fatgum won’t mind that once or twice, you can’t ask for a favor like that.

So you swallow all your pride and stop Kirishima the next time you see him.

“Hey, I… kinda need your help.”

“Oh? Sure, what do you need?”

“I…” You pull him to the side, away from possible prying ears and eyes. “I need to look for a new apartment.”

“What?” Kirishima blinks in surprise. “Why?”

“That’s… a difficult story. But do you… know, someone? Like from your class or even younger, who could need a roommate? I don’t mind cleaning and cooking if I can save on rent.”

“Sure, I mean, I know Shoji is looking for a roommate right now. But are you sure? What about Amajiki?”

“He’s fine.” You insist. “I don’t want to bother him any longer.”

“Bother… him?” Something seems to click in Kirishima’s mind, but whatever it is, it clicked the wrong way. 

“I’ll talk to him.” He insists, his voice way too determined.

“What? No, Kirishima, that’s not-”

“I thought he was a good guy.” He’s not listening to you, arms hardened as he moves past you. Your grip just slips off and all you can do is run after him.

You find Amajiki in his office, alone, thank god.

“Amajiki!” Kirishima’s voice booms through the room and you throw the door closed in the hopes of avoiding a scandal. 

“Keep your voice down.” You tell him, but he won’t listen.

Amajiki looks confused. Not scared, which you’re thankful for, but confused. And you can understand that. You’re confused as well.

“What’s going on, Kirishima?”

“How can you treat her that way?!” Kirishima asks, pointing at you. You blink back.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, face burning as Amajiki look over, worry evident in his eyes.

“When you started dating, I told you that if you hurt her, I’ll make sure you hurt even more. Kicking her out? That’s hurting her.”

“What the-” You start, but stop when Kirishima lunges over Amajiki’s desk.

“ENOUGH!” You yell, and to your surprise, Kirishima freezes for the first time since he’s started down this path of whatever he’s trying to achieve.

“WHAT?” He asks, clearly unhappy about your interruption.

“We are not dating!” You point out. “And even if we were, you have no right to play big brother.”

“We’re… not… dating?” Amajiki’s voice is low and quiet, but it still manages to cut through the tense atmosphere like a butcher’s knife.

It’s your turn to freeze, to have trouble breathing. 

Amajiki looks confused, Kirishima looks confused and well, you’re not sure what you’re looking like, but you definitely feel confused. 

“I-” You start. “What?”

“Well, my bad.” Kirishima holds up his hand defensively, waves them around as he chuckles awkwardly. “I’ll… I guess I’ll let you two talk this out. If you need me, I’ll be back at my desk and… uh, if you need Shoji’s info, let me know.” He backs out of the room with a tense smile on his face, leaving you and Amajiki to stare at each other.

Well, you stare at each other’s bodies, avoiding eye-contact, but you’re used to that by now.

-

In the end it's the realization that avoiding eye contact might have gotten you into this mess that has you look straight at him. He’s blushing and you feel a little sorry, but you need to make sense of this situation.

“Amajiki?” You ask, voice soft. “Can you tell me why you thought we were dating? I won't be mad, I promise.”

He shrugs and looks down at his shoes. You wait, well aware that he probably needs a few moments to gather himself. 

“Washio-san said you liked me too.” He starts, confusing you even more. Washio-san? Wait, you liked him too?

But before you can ask, he speaks on.

“She said that I should make sure to give you enough attention. And… and that girls like gifts. So I got you stuff, you know.”

“Oh my god.” You whisper, realizing that he's referring to the little trinkets he’d brought in ever since you started working for him.

Wait, if Washio-san was aware-

“Does… does Fatgum know?

“Of course.” Oh my god. “I told him… when you reciprocated.”

You're left stunned and he adds softly: “You brought me that pebble.”

“But we never… I mean, we didn't…” You press your hands together for a lack of words. He seems to understand nonetheless, flushing profusely.

“Mirio said… he said… well, I asked and he… not everyone liked doing… that… I thought you were not into it. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh. My. God.”

Silence falls over the room as you process things.

By the time you come back to reality - your stomach rather forcefully reminds you that you haven't eaten yet, your lunch break wasted on… more pressing matters - Amajiki has drawn into himself. He's sitting at his desk, seemingly occupied by a file, but you can tell he's not reading. 

You swallow your nerves and get up, walk over to his desk until you are right next to him. You push your back into the desk but instead of facing him directly, you focus on the tip of his left ear. It's flushed, the bright red a stark contrast to his dark hair.

“I have had a crush on you for ages.” You confess, forcing your voice to stay calm. “I didn't want to ask for the role as your assistant because in the end, you need to be comfortable with who you are working with, but I was hoping I would get it. Kirishima and I celebrated when I got the job, he might have… he might have told you.” You swallow thickly.

“I don't know if boy crushes are the same but girls… we tend to think that we’re not good enough. It paints everything in a different light. You ask me out on a date and I think you can’t possibly mean that, that you want to be just friends.”

He’s stiff as a board, but he doesn't speak up, so you continue. He told you his side of the story, so you owe him as much.

“If you're still up for it… I’d love to date you. For real this time.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, voice the tiniest bit wobbly.

“Absolutely.” You nod to emphasize your point and slide your hand across the table until it knocks into his. “And I do like… to do… that.” His hand grips yours, warm and strong, fits around yours like it was meant for that. 

Your heart beats loudly in your ears as you lean in, waiting for him to stop you but he doesn't. Your temple touches his, warm skin against warm skin. His eyes are wide open, his skin is flushed. You don't kiss, don't need to. It's enough for now to share your breath, share the warmth and the knowledge of your feelings.

“I really, really like you.” You point out, exhilarated when his lips pull into a smile that can only be described as giddy.

-

9 months as his assistant/girlfriend

The bed is way too warm to leave it, even though your bladder insists on doing just that.

Tamaki is spooning you, his face hidden against your shoulder blades, his messy bed head tickling your skin.

You drag your fingers across the arm that's holding you close. It's the softest of touches, barely enough to register in Tamaki's sleepy brain. But it works and his grip goes slack. You roll out of it, hand already in his hair when the absence of your warmth has him pout, even deeply asleep as he is now. He curls into himself in a matter of seconds, pout still on his face even as he starts snoring.

The shirt he wore yesterday still hangs on his desk chair and you slip into it. You don't want to give your new roommate nightmares.

When you step out of the bathroom, you're welcomed by the clattering of dishes and the smell of fresh waffles.

"Morning." You greet Shoji, who nods back.

He moved in two weeks ago when it became clear that he couldn't find a roommate and Tamaki wouldn't let you sleep in your own bed anyway. He insisted on sound proofing both bed rooms before moving in, but he's a quiet and friendly guy and you definitely do not mind his expertise in the kitchen.

"I have patrol today." Shoji points out minutes later, putting the waffles on three plates while you pour coffee into cups and do your best in putting the blueberries on the plates instead of into your mouth. "I'll be home late."

"Okay. I'm making curry tonight, I'll put your portion to the side."

He nods and smiles, before muttering: "Amajiki just woke up."

"How did you hear-" You start before you can see it too. Tentacles crawl over the floor, their movement sluggish but their goal clear.

You barely manage to jump to the side and put the coffee pot away before one snatches your legs and pulls.

"Good grief, Tamaki! I'm holding coffee!"

"Come back to bed!" You can barely make out his whining, but you know him by now, have learned quite a bit in the past two months.

There's nothing quite as unfiltered as Tamaki when he's barely awake.

And there's nothing quite as needy as him when he wakes up without you by his side.

"See you." Shoji puts your plates and coffee cups on a serving tray and holds it out for you. You're still struggling with the tentacles wrapped around your bare legs.

"Pull your tentacles back or I'll drink my coffee without you." You try to sound like you mean it, but you've always been an awful actress.

When you get back to the room, Tamaki's spread out on the bed, the arm that produced the tentacles reaching toward the door.

"I don't like waking up without you." He complains as he gets rid of the tentacles. You put the tray on his nightstand and slip into bed, press your now cold toes against his warm legs.

"Like you're already awake." You tease and he grumbles and mumbles, hides his face in your neck. He's on his best way to fall asleep again.

Just as you feel his body going slack, Tamaki moves again. He wakes like a cat, you learned, his nose often awake before the rest of his body follows. Or, like this time, his nose is not willing to go to sleep again.

“Waffles?” He asks, eyes closed. “Blueberries?” 

“And some apple and pear slices.” You point out, kiss the side of his mouth when he tries to move past you to get to the good stuff. His lips pull into a lazy smile and he cuddles back into you, heavy and warm and oh so relaxed.

“Feed me?” He asks. 

You snort but press a warm piece of waffle against his lips, only to kiss the leftover syrup off his lips.

“I could get used to that,” you mumble and he nods and hums and pulls you closer, always closer. 

“Please do.”

...

Half an hour later, when the coffee has trickled into his system and his anxiety is awake again, he's hiding his face against your neck for a different reason.

"I can never show my face again." He insists. "That was so embarassing. What did Shoji think of me, using my quirk for personal gain?!"

"I think he found it funny."

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A Couple Days In (I Call You Baby) CH2.

Modern!Steve Harrington x fem!reader [6.8K] 18+ the two night stand au no one asked for, or, the fic where you meet steve on a dating app and then a snowstorm ensures you can’t sneak out the next morning.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

“Hey, wanna get high?”

It was an easy question to say yes to, to be able to do something other than sit around and watch the snow fall, something to break the tension, ease the silence that was still a little uncomfortable. It was even easier when Steve looked at you like that, the same way he had the night before when you first answered the call from him, all messy hair and flushed cheeks, soft eyes and a smile that told you that you made him as nervous as he made you. 

So you nodded and felt a little giddy when he sparked up a joint, trying not to think about how it had been slotted between his lips when you placed it between yours. Besides, his mouth had been in more intimate places the night before… but you weren’t supposed to talk about that. 

So you shared the smoke until the joint burned down to the end, a stubbed out roach on a makeshift ashtray and when the sky outside dulled to an inky violet, you found yourself on Steve's living room floor. The boy had made quick work of gathering up every blanket and sheet he could find, the coffee table moved in favour of a fort that stood proud in the middle of the room. The weed had hit hard when he turned off the lights, letting the old nineties style disco ball illuminate the space instead. It twisted slowly, pink and purple and peach and green, each coloured sphere dancing off the white sheets and walls, making Steve’s skin turn shades of cotton candy and apricot.   

You’d found a frozen pizza in the bottom of his freezer, grimaced and brushed off most of the ice before shoving it in the oven as Steve threw all the snacks he could find into the fort, chips and cookies and some sour patch kids lost amongst the pillows. You ate slices of pepperoni in agreeable silence, The Goonies playing faintly in the background and when dinner was done and the high started to settle, you found yourself laying closer to the boy, shoulder to shoulder on the floor. 

“Can I ask you a question?” He asked, looking at you from the side of his eyes, curious and careful. “If you promise not to yell at me.”

“I don’t make promises with boys,” you said airily, grinning when Steve snorted. “But I won’t resort to violence, if that makes you feel better.”

“Barely,” he shot back but he rolled onto his stomach anyway, bit the head off of a red sour patch and kept his gaze on you. “But I’ll risk it. Why were you looking for a hookup? Last night. Like, why were you on that stupid site.”

“Why were you?”

Steve grinned. “I asked you first.”

Did you tell him? Did you tell him the truth? Would you sound pathetic, would you sound sad? Would you tell this boy, this stranger, that you’d once been happy and with your own place, another boy to share it with, that white picket fence kinda dream. Would you tell him you had a man, who wore a suit and tie to work, who promised you a ring and a baby and anything else you wanted, would you tell him that you found him with another girl when you came home too early one day, that he was less than sorry and told you that he just didn’t feel the same, that he was going to confess to you eventually. 

How could you tell him that? How could you tell that story without crying?

So you hoped your eyes didn’t turn glassy as you kept Steve’s gaze and shrugged, fingers playing nervously with the tassels on the end of a blanket. “What’s that thing they say? ‘You gotta get back on the horse’ or something?” You swallowed, throat too tight. “I had to get back on the horse.”

Steve stared, eyes widening slightly in realisation and he nodded, slow, thoughtful. Silence crept in, the movie long over and the credits rolling silently, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound. And then Steve knocked a hand against yours and said, “for what it’s worth, the guy sounds like an idiot. His loss, y’know?”

You grinned despite your confusion, nose scrunched and you stole a piece of candy from the bowl the boy had monopolised. “You don’t even know what he did.”

Steve hummed and shook his head, not wanting to hear your counter argument. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve got this look in your eye and— and, well, I can just tell, okay? He’s probably the world's biggest douche and he doesn’t deserve you.”

You were speechless, lips parted, tongue fizzing with leftover sugar and still staring at Steve. This guy you met online, a stranger. Except not really. 

“You didn’t deserve that.” Steve finished, he was staring at the popcorn, cheeks a little pink. “Whatever it was… that he did. You didn’t.”

Your socked foot met his, toes pushed to his, the closest you’d been since the night before. He stared at where you touched him, throat bobbing and you sniffed before whispering a small, ‘thanks.’ 

Steve shrugged again, embarrassed and brushing it off but his words clung to you in a way that was more important than you realised. When you’d told your mom about your ex, she’d been sympathetic but she seemed more concerned about you moving back in with a friend, having a roommate instead of a mortgage and still no ring on your finger. 

‘Maybe you weren’t giving him what he needed, hon,” she’d tried to justify. ‘You’re always so busy at work, you know. Men need cared for, they like to come home and have their dinner on the table and—’

You’d hung up the call without listening to it anymore. 

“Even though I’m a raging dragon?” You asked Steve, your knowing smile lightening the mood. 

You laughed when the boy’s cheeks burned, the tips of his ears just as red and he sat up in defence, hands held out placatingly. “Hey, c’mon now. You weren’t supposed to hear that—”

“So that makes it okay?” You squealed, laughing whilst trying to act offended. You batted at Steve’s hands when he tried to steal back the sour patch kids. “No, they’re mine now. Penance for your awful honesty.”

“—if you let me talk,” Steve grumbled but he was smiling too and god, it was a pretty sight. “You’ll know that I didn’t mean it. Well I did, a little. You were scary.”

You snorted. 

“But hot,” Steve added on, looking at you from under his lashes, gaze lowered and he took a second to see how you’d take such a compliment. You raised your brows, hiding a smile with twisted lips. “Y’know, in that ‘she’s yelling but I’m turned on’ kinda way?”

You laughed, a bright burst of sound that made Steve grin and you shook your head, “god, boy’s are easy, huh?”

“We’re mere creatures, honestly,” Steve smiled and he didn’t seem to care about his admittance. Or the fact you’d both promised not to talk about the fact you had slept with each other, ‘cause then he said: “M’sorry I couldn’t you know, be a… good horse to get back onto.”

Were you burning? You felt like you were burning. You felt like you were on fire. You squirmed, chugging down the rest of your sofa before answering. “Steve, no, don’t, it wasn’t— I was being dramatic— and a bitch—”

“Did you come?” 

You choked, face flushed and you wanted to placate him, ‘cause he’d fed you all day and you were in a pair of his too big socks ‘cause you’d complained about having cold feet but god, you couldn’t lie. 

“Jesus, blunt much?” You tried to stall but Steve narrowed his eyes at you. 

“Like you were aiming for soft and sweet this morning? C’mon, tell me the truth. Was I that bad? I can handle it.”

You chewed at your bottom lip, thinking carefully and you couldn’t help the breath of laughter that left you. “You can’t handle it,” you shrugged. “It’s okay though, no boy could. Your egos are too precious.”

“That’s not true,” Steve replied, and he nudged at your side, his hand grazing over the sort of your hip and you wanted to squirm. “Look at it this way, once the weather stops being so fucking dramatic, you’re gone, right?”

“Like the wind,” you nodded sagely. 

“So the chance of us seeing each other again, is like what, slim to none?”

“A zero,” you confirmed. 

Steve smiled and it was nice, pretty, a slow stretch that made him look like he was up to know good and it reminded you of the night before, after you’d shed your coat and clinked your beer against his, right before he’d kissed you against the kitchen counter. 

“So we’ve been given a rare opportunity here, sweetheart,” he sat up, gesturing between the two of you, his candy forgotten about. “Let’s get brutal. You tell me what I need to do to improve, you know, sexually, and I’ll hand out some pointers too.”

“Oh, I need pointers?” You laughed, humourless, eyebrows raised as you say up too, your head brushing the peak of the fort. Mirth glittered in the boy’s eyes and he shrugged, too causal.

“You think you’re some sort of sex god?” Steve grinned and you burned, embarrassed at his accusation.

“What? No! At least you got off!”

Steve sprang to his knees, victorious, a finger pointed accusingly at you. “Ha! See! You didn’t come, you totally faked it. You lying… liar.”

You rolled your eyes. “Mature.”

“Listen,” he took your hand, hesitant at first, but once you didn’t pull away, he tugged you a little closer, fingers tangling. “Hear me out. Don’t you wanna know? Like, a full Amazon style review of your sexual prowess. Cons, star rating, would I recommend you to a friend?”

You scoffed, unable to hold in your laughter, but you used your free hand to bat at his shoulder anyway. “You’re a pig,” you told him. 

“I know, you told me already,” Steve reminded you and he grinned, all boyish and teasing. Steve tan his thumb over your knuckles, fingertips scratching nicely against your palm. He was flirting. He was fucking flirting. “C’mon, tell me how to find some truffles.”

And that’s how you found yourself standing in front of him as he sat on his sofa, gaze focused on you as you paced in front of the TV. The snow was still falling outside, mounds of it climbing up the window as it settled on the sill, the whole world outside turning white. 

“Okay,” you clapped your hands together. “This would be so much easier if I had, like, a PowerPoint.”

Steve stared at you, deadpan. “You want ten minutes with my laptop?”

He was joking, but you hesitated. He said your name through a laugh, shaking his head. “No. You do not need a PowerPoint presentation, c’mon, lay it on me.”

You took a deep breath and started. 

“Right. So I didn’t actually have an orgasm last night and I know that hurts your male ego, but trust me, no one is more disappointed than me, okay?” You paused as Steve opened his mouth to retort but you interrupted with a sharp, “ah! Questions and comments at the end, please.”

Steve sunk back into the couch. 

“And it’s not because you were bad, alright? You were good! Like really good and it was pretty hot and honestly, I was close, like several times.” You stopped pacing to face him, head tilted to the side. “You remember what I said? What I might have told you that could have possibly helped you know that I was close?”

Steve sucked his teeth, bashful. “You might have said, ‘I’m close.’”

“Right! I did, didn’t I? And then you completely changed up what you were doing even though I very specifically said ‘don’t stop,’ so please, Steven, talk me through your thought process there.”

Steve gestured wildly to the air, at a loss. He shrugged, “ I dunno, I thought if I like, sped it up, or you know, did that little twisty thing with my fingers… kinda like a finishing move or something. WWE style, Tony Hawk Pro Skater, Mortal Kombat? You know— never mind. And don’t call me Steven, Jesus.”

“If a girl tells you she’s close, it’s because of what you’re currently doing. Like, exactly that,” you told him softly. “Don’t change it up, got it?”

Steve blinked as you stared at him, expression intense and he nodded slowly. “Yeah, yeah. Yes ma’am.”

“Oh! And if a girl is trying to help herself out with some hand action?” You gestured vaguely at your crotch, cheeks on fire. “It’s not a personal attack, okay? Sex is a… sex is a team effort, yeah? We’re simply trying to make everyone feel good.”

Steve nodded again, lips pursed. “Noted. Anything else?”

“Yes, actually,” you said primly, ignoring the way Steve smirked. “I don’t know which freshman dweeb managed to convince every male that spelling the alphabet with their tongue is a good idea, but it’s not, okay? It kinda makes me feel like you’re learning braille, and that’s not sexy. Apart from that, sex with you is perfectly nice.”

“You done?” Steve asked again but he was still smiling, his hands tapping at the back of the couch. 

You nodded, gaze lowered ‘cause you weren’t sure how you managed to say such things to a boy you barely knew but fuck, if it didn’t feel good. 

“Good, my turn. Take a seat, sweetheart, and get out your notepad.”

You scowled, shoulder brushing Steve’s as you swapped places, throwing yourself down into the sofa. He grinned as he took centre stage, immediately launching into a speech that honestly wasn’t as scathing as you were scared it was going to be. 

“Lights,” he announced. “What is it with girls and wanting to do it with the lights off? I’ve already seen you, I think you’re hot, I wanna see more.” Steve’s eyes lit up in excitement, enthusiasm evident. “Now I know, you had some real cute underwear under those jeans, okay? Something lacy, real sexy, I’m sure of it, but I didn’t get to see them!”

You laughed at his crestfallen expression, his pout. 

“And that whole thing,” the boy gestured to his clothes. “You switched off the light and stripped yourself like Houdini, zero appreciation for the art.”

“The art?” You snorted, eyes on Steve’s and suddenly the air shifted. You watched him shrug and swallow hard, throat bobbing and he didn’t bother hiding the way his gaze travelled down your body and back up again. “What art?”

“Y’know,” he shuffled a little nervously, cheeks pink again. He gestured towards the sofa. “You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” he grinned at how you sounded so shocked. “C’mon, don’t act like you don’t know. You’re hot, sweetheart. Real pretty. Guys are nothin’ but visual creatures, right? You gotta give us something to work with. A little somethin’ like this—” Steve shimmied his hips, miming pulling his sweats down all slow, ass popped and knees bent. “— a little ass action, yeah?”

He grinned when you laughed loudly, eyes shining and your hand covering your mouth but it only encouraged him. “Right? You get it. A little over the shoulder look, bat those eyes. Did you drop something? Oh, yeah you did,” he smirked, smug and pleased with himself. “It was your panties.”

“You’re in the wrong job, Harrington. That was quite the show.”

Steve hummed, “yeah, but I can’t walk in heels, so,” he tsked and grinned. 

“Anything else to add?” You asked him. 

But the boy was already making his way back to the couch so he could settle next to you, a casual arm slung on the back cushions, his hand barely grazing your neck. “Nah, honestly, guys are pretty simple.”

You grinned, nodding. “Well,” you slapped softly at his thigh. “Thanks for your honesty.”

Steve cleared his throat and tried not to act like your hand on his leg was doing what it was doing for him. “Yeah, yeah, same. I, uh, I wish you’d told me last night, though.”

You gazed at him questioningly. 

“You know, that you didn’t finish.” Steve suddenly seemed shy, licking at his bottom lip and looking anywhere but your eyes. “I would’ve tried to, uh, make that happen for you.”

“Oh.” You were warmer than you had been all day. “I know. I should’ve said. That wasn’t fair.” It was hard to speak, your throat too tight, your voice breathy and losing that bossy tone it had had before. 

Steve finally lifted his gaze back to yours and suddenly, he seemed so much closer than before. He shifted, his hand touching your neck just briefly and you wondered if it was an accident. The forgotten TV timed out, blinked and settled back to black and Steve was multicoloured. The disco bowl still spun, lights shifting slowly over the boy’s skin, your hands in your lap, the cracks in the old walls. 

You watched him lick at his lips, mouth pinker than ever with the lights, lashes blinking as he seemed to mull something over in his head. Did he lean in? Or was that you? A shift, a pull, something that someone did that cause your shoulders to bump, your thigh to brush his. 

“I could try again,” he whispered. “If you want. For science.”

The disco light spun, colours changed and Steve’s eyes went from honey to amber to gold. He waited, patient, nervous. 

“Science?” You whispered and Steve nodded, gaze on your lips. 

“Yeah, we could test out those pointers, y’know? See if we actually did need a presentation, might’ve been better off with a diagram or something but hey, you never kn— mmph—”

Steve was cut off, your lips pressed to his, your hands on his cheeks. It was a little messy at first, off kilter and desperate, but you moved closer and let your lips brush over his, your breath a heavy fan over his mouth and chin. You let him chase you, silently checking that this is what he wanted to and your heart was ready to break out of your chest when his hand clutched at your hip and pulled you back. Fingertips travelled up your side, delicate, hesitant, but when they raked through your hair and grabbed at the back of your neck, Steve didn’t waste anymore time. 

He kissed you back, lips parting against yours, tongue sliding your own, nose pressed to your cheek. He took it slow, less ramped up and needy than the night before, ‘cause suddenly you were both gifted with all the time in the world. It was a push and pull, all soft presses of your lips on Steve’s, a slow tease, deep and languid. It was bone melting, a simmering heat, a new neediness that you hadn’t felt since the night before. 

You pulled back, lips already kiss swollen and pink, eyes a little glazed and you were pleased to see that Steve looked the same. You pressed a hand to his chest and sucked in the breath he’d stolen. “You’re good at that,” you told him, voice a little wrecked. “Mhmm, good kisser, zero complaints.”

“Yeah?” He grinned, pleased with himself. “Five out of five? You’d recommend me to a friend?”

You rolled your eyes and left his side, hauling yourself to your feet. “God, shut up, don’t make me change my mind.”

Steve raised his brows, watching as you backed away, fingers toying with the edge of your shirt. “Change your mind?” He asked a little hoarsely. “Change your mind about what?”

You shrugged, waiting until you were at his bedroom door before looking back, your chin pressed to your shoulder and your eyes on him. “Come find out.” 

You heard him swear softly under his breath, the scramble from the couch, the way his socks slid against the wooden floorboards. Steve was behind you in an instant, eyes heavy and pupils blown. You grinned as he backed himself clumsily to the bed, the backs of his knees hitting the mattress before he sat with a thump, never once letting his eyes leave you. 

“Take your shirt off,” you told him softly. “You kinda waited for me to undress you last night, which, I get the idea behind it but you’re a big boy, Steve, you can do it yourself.”

He merely nodded, stripping himself of his shirt before flinging it somewhere in his room, leaning back on his elbows as you grinned at him. You leaned over to the light switch, the harsh ceiling light clicking off and bathing you both in semi darkness, but before the boy could comment, you switched the bedside lamp on, a softer, warmer light illuminating the space and you. 

Steve smiled, nodding. “Compromise, I like it.”

“Right?” You said, “we listened, we took notes, we can do this.”

“We can totally do this,” Steve agreed, “it’s gonna— oh…” 

The boy trailed off as you lifted your shirt from your body, slow, enticing, movements measured and you tried not to let your breath shudder with nerves. But as more skin was revealed, the darker Steve’s gaze grew and you were urged on. The shirt hit the floor and your hands found your jeans, fingers toying with the button, the zip and imitating the move Steve had done in the living room, you smiled shyly and turned to the side, bending at the waist so you could slide the denim down over your thighs and knees. You stepped out of them and pulled off your socks too - Steve’s socks - finally showing off the pretty lace set that you had indeed picked out to wear for him. 

You let out the breath you’d been holding, watching Steve from under your lashes, enjoying the way he had fisted the sheets in his hands, how his eyes were flickering from your chest to your stomach to your ass to your legs, like he didn’t know where to look first. So you turned again, your back to him, grinning at the wall when he groaned lowly, and brought your hands to the clasp of your bra, undoing it and letting the lace fall to the floor too. It took a lot for you to bring your arms down from where they’d naturally crossed in front of your chest, but you let your hands soothe down your stomach until your thumbs hooked into the sides of your underwear and you let them drop down your legs too, a crush of black lace on his bedroom floor. 

Completely bare for him, you turned and met his gaze, releasing your bottom lip from where your teeth had pinched at it. “Did you mean something like that?” You asked quietly. 

Steve swallowed audibly, his breath coming out in a shaky huff as he nodded, his eyes glazed over as he stared. He kept nodding, eager, his messy hair falling into his face. “Yeah, yeah something like that,” he agreed. 

Your knees pressed into the bed as you joined him, squeaking when his hands spanned the side of your waist and pulled you to him. He kissed you like he did on his sofa, all encompassing, his tongue sliding perfectly over yours and you revelled in the way your body lit up for him, a live wire under his touch. 

“Wanna make you come,” Steve whispered between kisses and his words made you bite back a groan, “wanna make up for it.”

So you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak until Steve kissed his way down your neck, latching on to a particular spot that made you grab at his hair a little meanly. His lips took their time brushing across your chest, mouthing hotly at your skin, tongue sliding over a nipple, hands gliding over the parts of you he wasn’t kissing. And when he pressed his mouth to your navel, he looked up at you with an earnest expression, all boyish and with his hair falling into his eyes. 

“Can I use my mouth?” Steve asked, his lips already brushing over your hip bones, the soft pudge of your stomach. 

You whined, nodding, thankful you’d had the courage to ask the boy if you could use his shower after you’d eaten that morning and Steve revelled in the fact your skin smelled like him, his body wash, his shampoo. 

“Say it, sweetheart,” Steve murmured, already moving down to spread your legs, hands pushing at each thigh to make room for him to lie between. There was nothing to stop him from seeing every part of you, the soft light casting honey coloured shadows over your skin and it made you squirm. “C’mon, tell me.”

“Please,” you gasped out, blindly grasping for his hair to hold onto, keening when Steve brushed the tip of his nose against your folds, bumping clumsy over your clit. “Please, Steve.”

“How’d you want it?” He asked you quietly and you heard the nervousness there, the need to please you. Steve kissed at your inner thigh, sucked a small bruise there and smiled when your hips lifted from the bed. “You gotta tell me, sweetheart, I wanna do good. How’d you like it, huh?”

Dirty talk wasn’t your forte, never really had been. But Steve was looking at you so sincerely that you couldn’t say no. So you let your head fall back into his pillows and let your lashes flutter closed. “I— I like it soft, at first. Teasing. Like… like little kisses. Just to— oh, god.”

Steve had started doing as you asked, warm hands holding your thighs apart for him, spreading you open so he could press butterfly soft kisses over your cunt. He didn’t focus on one particular part, ghosting over your clit to warm you up, leaving you wanting more. He hummed when you cried out, thumbs stroking circles into your skin. His tongue stroked softly over you, kitten licks over your skin, dipping only once into your entrance, grazing over your clit and making you arch up. 

“Like that? Is that better?” Steve murmured. 

You nodded, still clutching at strands of his hair. “Yeah, like that,” you agreed and god, you didn’t sound like yourself. 

“Keep talkin,” he told you, chin ducking back down so he could taste you again, tongue a slow drag over you. 

“More,” you asked, voice high and needy, “please.”

“More what, sweetheart?” Steve was teasing now, he had to be, ‘cause his hands were holding down your hips so you would stop chasing his mouth and your chest was flushed, the same pretty heat crawling across your cheeks. “Told you, you gotta tell me.”

“Your tongue,” you managed to choke out, “keep it— keep it flat and just— oh, shit, Steve.”

The boy was a fast learner, doing exactly what you said as he kept his tongue soft and flat, dragging it slowly over your cunt, licking from your entrance to your clit. He brought his fingers to you, circled them teasingly until you whined and nodded, begging and babbling nonsense. Steve swore into you when you shuddered, two fingers sliding into you easily and he focused his tongue on your clit, keeping up that soft slide against it that you seemed to like best. 

“Oh, fuck,” you were panting, thighs hooked over his shoulders and Steve’s face pressed into you, groaning at the way you were grinding against him, fingers slipping deeper, hips lifting and pushing against his tongue. “Fuck, SteveSteveSteve, m’gonna come.” 

He didn’t do anything differently, he didn’t dare. Steve just moaned against you, hooked his fingers until you keened and let you ride his face, his tongue staying where it was until you were crying out, pulling on his hair, your thighs shuddering by his ears. He felt you clench down on his fingers, cunt a vice around them and he swore he almost came, his own hips rutting mindlessly against the mattress as you moaned out his name as you settled down. 

You were panting, eyes unfocused as Steve crawled back up your body, his lips shiny with you, his gaze looking just as fucked out as you felt and Jesus, he was painfully hard beneath his jeans. You scrambled for him, more keyed up than ever, ‘cause you’d never come like that before, not with someone else. One hand grabbed at his jaw, bringing him down for a kiss as you wrestled with his jeans, fumbling with the button until he broke away to strip them off for you. He looked elated when you chased after him, hands pushing and grabbing at his shoulders until you got him back on the bed, his head hitting the pillows with an ooof, before he pushed himself up on his elbows to watch. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Steve chanted, eyes fluttering and head rolling back when you wrapped a hand around his cock. You watched the way his jaw tensed, how his neck went taught. “I can’t believe m’sayin’ this but - oh Christ, fuck - I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You smiled and then pouted, crawling between the boy’s legs so you could pepper kisses across his stomach, the line of muscle leading to his hips, the dusting of light hair down his navel. 

“That’s no fun,” you commented mildly. “C’mon, Steve, have some self control, huh?”

And then you licked a stripe up the length of his cock, catching the underside of his tip with your tongue, unable to stop the grin on your lips when his hips bucked and he cried out. Your name hung in the air with some choice curse words, and you’d have been offended if he didn’t look the way he did. Wrecked, ruined, all messy haired and glossy lips, pupils blown wide for you. 

“Want me to stop?” You asked, slowly pumping him.He shook his head, lips parted, chest heaving. You smiled, saccharine sweet and you wondered when you’d last had this much fun in bed with someone. “Tell me when you do, ‘kay?”

Steve groaned his agreement, letting his head fall back and his fingers twist in your hair as you sunk your mouth back down on him, wanting to make him feel as good as he made you feel. You hadn’t done this last night, both of you too eager to get to the main event, but you took your time now, doing your best to take as much of him as you could, tongue sliding up and down his cock as you moved him to the back of your throat. 

Steve whined when he felt himself nudge there, his cock heavy on your tongue, his hand skimming over your cheek in a surprisingly intimate gesture, but then his thumb tugged at your bottom lip, ran itself across the way it was stretched out around him and it was dirty, it was sheer filth and you moaned around him at the feel of it. 

“Oh god, fucking— Jesus Christ, sweetheart, I can’t…” Steve tapped at your head, babbling, eyes panicked as he tried his best to keep his hips from lifting off of the bed and chasing your mouth. “M’gonna fuckin’ explode, you can’t—”

You pulled away, lips swollen and red, eyes a little wide at how affected he seemed to be but before you could ask if he was okay, Steve was pulling you onto his lap, arms wrapped tight around you. He kissed you harder than before, a desperate bite to it that you didn’t mind at all and you keened high when your cunt slid slick over his cock, nudging up against your still sensitive clit. 

“Good?” You asked, breathless between kisses, Steve’s face dipping so he could mouth along your jaw, the line of your throat. “Any— god, any notes?”

“None, fuck, no, no, none,” Steve rambled, losing all sense of restraint as he started to guide your hips over his, the length of his cock tucked hard between your slick folds, both of your crying out at the friction. “Ten out of ten, five stars,” he choked out. 

You huffed out a soft laugh, lashes fluttering as he nipped and sucked at your collarbone, your hands reaching to twist into his hair, holding him to your. “Would you… shit, Steve… would you recommend me to a friend?”

Steve wanted to growl. Mine mine mine mine mine. 

Instead, he laughed too, shaking his head as he moved his lips back to your neck, nosing over the soft skin, grazing the line of your jaw until he found your mouth again. He kissed you too sweetly, too lazily, for the way you were rocking over him, desperate to chase some sort of release again. 

“Nah,” he managed to answer, “they couldn’t handle you.”

You grinned, pleased with his answer, even if it was a lie. You kissed the boy, too wrapped up in the way he felt under you to call him out on it. Instead you let him run his hands down your back, fingers tripping up over the curves there, the arch of your back, the line of your waist. 

“And you can?” 

Steve pulled back, still so close, nose grazing your own and he hid his smile with a twist of his lips. He smirked instead, gaze lowered to look at your lips. He shrugged, too casual and said, “I’ll give it a good try.”

You knew from last night where Steve kept the condoms, leaning over him to rummage in his bedside drawer until you could rip open the foil packet and throw it somewhere for one of you to find later. The boy hissed when you rolled it on him, over sensitive already and god, your hands were shaking. He kneaded your hips with rough fingers, leaned back into the pillows and he was cast in the warm light, skin looking tanned and apricot under the glow. 

“Like this?” Steve murmured and everything turned a little softer, the air taught with something that hadn’t been there the night before, no cheap beer to dull the senses, the weed long worn off. “Or do you want something else? Just tell me,” Steve was gazing up at you, his words sticky in his throat and god, was he as nervous as you were? “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Like this,” you agreed, nodding and suddenly you were desperate to feel him.

 You knelt up, dipping the mattress on either side of him and Steve helped you move over him, fisting his cock and letting you sink down onto it, eyes clenching shut as you lowered. He was a tight fit, almost too big and Steve groaned as he slipped in, hands rubbing soothing at your hips until you’d taken him to the base. 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed out, chest heaving, jaw slack. “You feel so good, just— just gimme a minute.”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, agreeing with everything Steve said, hands clutching at his wrists as he held you, ready to explode from the inside out, ‘cause you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. “Shit, s’good, I can’t—”

“Take your time,” Steve told you, gasping out when you rolled your hips, barely lifting yourself off of him but the way he nudged up against your walls had you crying out. “Fucking hell, that’s it, shit, baby, there you go.”

Baby. 

Different than sweetheart, better, warmer, holding less sarcasm, making you feel sticky sweet with it, his words cloying, his hands on your skin even more so. 

You were panting, skin slick, too warm despite the snow piling up higher and higher outside and the noises that fell from the back of your throat only seemed to spur Steve on. He was greedy with it, hyper focused on making you come again, ‘cause he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to go on without seeing you fall apart for him again. He liked the way his name sounded on your tongue, how you grabbed and scratched at him when you wanted more. 

He wanted it again and again and again—

“What d’you need?” Steve asked, voice cracking in the middle when he lifted his hips to meet yours. 

You cried out, eyes glassy, falling into him so you could wrap your arms around his neck and press your chest to his. “More,” you murmured back, “more of you.”

You didn’t know what that meant, and neither did Steve, not really but it made him smile because you were so past gone on him it wasn’t even funny. So you let him manhandle you, rolling you both until he had you pinned to the mattress and he hitched one leg over a forearm, holding you open so he could drive into you deeper. 

“Like that?” Steve asked and you nodded, fingers tripping down your skin until they landed in your clit and you rubbed circles there, clenching down on him when you hit that right spot. “Oh shit, oh shitshitshit, please tell me you’re close.”

Steve’s thrust started to stutter, his rhythm picking up as he slammed into you a little harder, a little deeper and your eyes shuttered closed as you got what you wanted. More of Steve. You nodded, mouth falling open, jaw slack and Steve used his free hand to run his palm up your body, pinching at a nipple before letting his fingers rest at the base of your throat as he fucked up into you. 

“Steve,” you gasped and he moaned back, a strangled sound that might’ve been your name too and he could feel you tightening around him again, just like you did around his fingers and then you were cursing into the dim of his bedroom, clutching tightly at the boy when he came too, arms shaking with the effort of holding himself over you until he buried his face into the crook of your neck and swore. 

“That— that was—”

You nodded, skin still tingling. “Yeah,” you croaked, “that was, yeah.”

“—so fuckin’ good.”

“So much better.”

“Holy shit, we’re good at that.”

“Insane.”

“There’s a lot to be said for listening in class, huh?”

...

[echoe-back-from-the-void]

SCREAM - 1996

Part two is in the works!!

Looking down at the offending bloodied blade I grinned sharply.

“Oh, if you wanted to kill me you shouldn’t have missed.” I turn my puppy dog eyes to the man in the ghost face. I grip the blade and pull it out with a soft whine. Lifting my shirt to see the entry wound, “next time don’t miss, baby boy.” I say teasingly, my words obviously have an effect as he stands still with heavy breathing. Clearly startled.

I reach across the counter nearest to me and grab a rag before packing the entry. The killer flinches back at how brutally I’m treating my own body.

“If you came here to kill me because I’m part of her friend group then you clearly have me mistaken.” I look up at him again. “I’m just a punching bag, mr killer.”

When he still gives no reaction I turn away from him and half limp to the living room where I try the phone. “Damn.” I Mutter when I hear the dead line. In response a blade is placed under my throat making me hiss. “Put that thing down I was just trying to order a damn pizza.” Then quieter I mumble, “I get munchies when I patch myself up. And if I don’t eat I’ll just pass out and bleed to death.”

With a sigh I let myself fall to the dusty couch and bend over the side to grab the ever present med kit that I had stashed there. “Are you just gonna stand there and watch or are you going to get me a warm bowl of water?” I order the male, I can tell he’s male from whatever deodorant he’s using. That and his shoes are too big to be female, same with his hands. He’s shocked enough to actually do as I said and returns with a bowl of water. I dip my finger in it and sigh at the warmth.

I shake my head, gotta stay awake. Reaching over I turn on the tv and switch it to the channel playing horror movies. The killer beside me instantly becomes entranced making me bark a laugh. “Horror fan too, my good sir?” I joke and he shakes his head yes. This whole time he hasn’t spoken and maybe it’s the adrenaline or the blood loss but I teasingly say, “cat got your tongue, baby boy?”

“No.” A distorted voice responds.

“Voice modulators in the suit, nice.” I say as I turn my attention back to the open med kit. I struggle to thread the needle but eventually get it. All while the ghost faced killer sits on an opposite arm chair with divided attention between the movie and me. By the credits I have stitched the wound closed. I’m wrapping it in gauze when he finally stands up.

He’s almost nervous like he doesn’t know what to do. He’s holding that bloody knife again and pointing at me. “Don’t tell anyone.”

I throw my head back in a laugh, “who would I tell, baby boy.” At this point I’ve called him that couple times and while most of the jocks at our school would feel threatened. This man seems to almost preen at the words like they’re a compliment.

It’s a week later and I’m visited again. I don’t ask how he got in I just lean against the wall with a soft smile. “Back again, Baby boy?” I realize my mistake when I see his gait. “Not baby boy. So there’s two of you, smart.” I say with a shrug turning to walk back into my living room.

I hear the floorboard behind me creak under pressure and I lean hard left barely avoiding a knife stab. I grab the males arm and lift it up while turning. Pulling his arm to his back and pushing him against the wall with force. I hiss at the pull in my abdomen and press him into the wall harder. “Don’t get pissy or your going to rip my stitches.”

I Take the blade out of his hand and while I’ve taken a visible weapon away I don’t doubt he has more hidden on his person. “I don’t trust you so I’m going to pat you down.” I move one hand around and over his shoulders and then down his back and around his waist. I find another knife and a concealed cellphone that I stuff back in his pocket. The hard part was checking his legs because I couldn’t reach down and still hold his arm up.

So I do something mildly stupid and let his arm go to crouch by his legs. I give another hiss at the stretch but check him thoroughly. When the pat down is done I use the wall to try and get back up but I feel something tear and curse under my breath.

When I’m standing again I let my head rest against the wall with a sigh as sweat is already coating my brow. The second killer had backed away to watch me. I put my hand on the wall and continue to limp my way to the living room. Halfway there I take my bloody shirt off and throw it in the opening of the laundry room.

Being shirtless exposes my thin but muscular frame covered in patchy white scars. I’m really thankful I was wearing my sports bra too or I’d be more concerned taking my shirt off around the serial killer. “Getting undressed for me already sweetheart.” He flirts through the Modulator.

“In your dreams, brat.” I lower myself into the couch with a Hmpf. I reach my hand underneath and blindly search for the medkit like last time. This time I’m thankful I also stashed a bottle of scotch. I take a Long sip of the amber liquor before I even bother to look at the damage.

Two stitches had ripped and began to needlessly bleed. The second ghost face killer comes closer to the couch with interest. Kneeling beside me his dips an ungloved hand in the blood puddling my chest and slips his fingers under his mask. A little bit of the blood catches on the white face and I can just barely make out his chin.

I roll my eyes at his behavior and grab the alcohol to pour over the wound. When the skin is well and numb I smile and take the broken stitches out before restitching them. When I’m done I let my head fall back into the cushions with a sigh.

“You didn’t go to the hospital?”

I quirk a lazy grin. “No, they wouldn’t have helped me anyway. Because I don’t have money to pay them.” I say the words slowly to make my point. “Can I please order a Pizza this time?” My response is silence that I then try to fill. “I already told your partner, I get the munchies when I’m hurt. If I don’t eat I will fall asleep.”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” The man asks through distortion.

“My bloody valentine, next?”

“Why.”

“Um duh, because it was good. I liked the idea of people dying on Valentine’s Day it was a little ironic ya know with the whole death do us part vow.”

The ghost face killer gives a breathy chuckle and begins to run his fingers through my hair. It’s not that bad and I kinda sink into his hand. “Your really not scared, are you?”

“I’m really hungry if that helps?” I tease through a yawn.

Soon I’m falling asleep with a killer stroking my hair. I wake up ten or twenty minutes later to the smell of warm pizza and when I open my eyes there’s a pizza box on my living room table.

I slowly position myself to kneel next to the low table and I open the still warm box of pizza. Cheese pizza <3

Hungrily I dig in to fill my appetite and sway side to side happy.

“Look at that.” A Voice says to my left. I turn and see the same killer as before. His new defining marker being the tinge of red at the bottom of the mask from where he tasted my blood.

“Don’t tease me, brat, I was hungry, I haven’t eaten since…well shoot.” I blink rapidly at the realization. Was it really that long.

“Shoot, What?” Another modulated voice asks. I turn my head with a perky smile. “Baby boy!” Excitedly I wave him over. “Pizza!” I hold up a slice for him and I can tell he rolled his eyes at me. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.” I snuff turning back to my pizza. The second man chuckles.

“She really isn’t scared at all?”

“What? Do you seriously want me whining and crying like some dumb girl in a horror movie?” I lift my lip in a snarl. “Hate when they do that, it does nothing for the movie.” I mumble around a mouthful of pizza.

A silent conversation goes on behind me and then both killers move to opposite ends of the couch and sit down putting their feet on the table in synch. “Cute.” I tease again. “You should really get a slice, boys, before I eat the whole damn thing.”

The one on the left moves to get a slice and I notice it’s the same one with red on the mask. That lets me assume the other is the first one I met.

I reach across the table and there are two electronics barely in arms length. The phone and the remote. I feel brave for some reason and pick up the phone, two bodies tensing behind me. Visibly, so both can see me, I take the batteries out. I then reach for the remote with a giggle. “You boys are way too tense, cops couldn’t catch ya even if I pointed you out, dumb hicks they are. And like hell I’d do that,” I lean back against the couch to see them both. “That lady you guys killed a couple years back had it coming, so did those kids.”

“And what did they deserve, sweetheart.” The one on my left that I had been calling brat said.

“Well you gutted them but I would’ve cut out their tongues and broke their fingers. Casey was a cheater, cheated on my tests and on her boyfriend. Dunno how he’s doing but she was sleeping with the dumb jock while datin Macher.” I dip my lips into a frown. “He didn’t deserve a bad girlfriend, I think he’s dating Tatum, I don’t like her either. She was involved in a hit and run that was never investigated. Suspicious!” I say the last part in a high pitched voice.

The one on the right speaks up this time. “What did miss Prescott deserve?”

My grin dips before realigning. “Bitch had more kids than she had marriages, I know that. But if that’s true then why does little ol Sydney have no siblings in the house.” I pause and the one on the left is the first to catch on.

“You don’t mean?”

“What—that she killed them? No, Miss Prescott had a set of twin girls. I’m Sydney Prescott’s twin, I don’t look it do I?” I reveal to them and both seem startled at the information. “I got put up for adoption and was adopted by my lovely parents.” I stretch the word lovely and rub a scar over my shoulder. They pick up on the message and leave it at that.

“Not that my twins a Saint either. She has a porn blog about herself. All that talk about virginity and not giving it up but she’s got a blog selling her body. Her boyfriend, Loomis, the shit I could tell you about him. Okay so like her mom, my mom. Totally slept with his dad and fucked up the entire marriage. I mean, what a Home-wrecker. If I were Loomis…”

A hand is placed under my chin and my head is turned toward a smiling face. Billy-fucking-Loomis. “You’d do what, Sweetheart?”

“Mother-fucker!” I curse sharply in shock. “No fucking way, I mean it only makes sense. She would’ve been your first kill, then…” I can’t stop the sharp open mouthed smile. “Sydney’s so fucked!” I give a disbelieving laugh. I turn to the other killer with a smile. “If he’s Billy,” I get up and put my knee on the couch to steady myself and take off the other killers mask. “Stu Macher, you son of a gun.” I put my hands on both sides of his face and give him a quick kiss. I turn to Loomis to do the same. Before pulling away I bite his lip drawing blood making him pull back with a hiss.

“What was that for sweetheart?” Billy asks.

“Payback, you had my blood,” I then lick his blood off my lip.

“No hard feelings about the stab?” Stu asks.

“None,” I turn to him with a teasing smile, “you were so cute when you were confused.” I let my eyes drift back to Billy. “He couldn’t kill me so you were sent to finish the job but I’m clearly not dead.” There’s a question somewhere in there and Billy nods running a finger through my hair.

“You’re interesting.”

A month passed and both boys had continued to visit, my stab wound was still aching and I couldn’t move much. I was really thankful I had graduated early because I could not imagine how I would’ve gotten around school with a stab wound. Billy or Stu would drop off after school to see me. Eventually becoming affectionate, I was a little confused at first and asked about their girlfriends. When I did, both boys looked at each other over my head before saying in synch that they dumped them.

I guessed as much when stu couldn’t keep his arms from around me during a scary movie marathon. Billy would give short kisses to my hair while keeping an arm over my shoulders. It was strange at first but I shrugged it off and soaked in the affection with a bleeding heart.

We have been dating for three months and It was hot. My ac had broke again, so I was lounging in my sports bra and free flowing pajama shorts. We were watching a horror movie, Stu had his face buried in my lap facing the movie while I leaned against Billy. Stu moved and rolled to face my stomach and began to bury his nose in my bandages with a sigh.

“Your blood smells so good.” He whined clenching my hips. He began to leave love bites and hickeys along the available skin.

Billy began to take control of my lips and make out. He pressed a hand lightly to my throat when he let up and he too began to mark me up.

I rolled my head back with a sigh, “couldn’t we have finished the movie first?”

“You already know how it ends,” Billy murmured against my skin. Stu chuckled as well, sending vibrations of his voice against my stomach.

“You both suck,” I whined after missing my favorite part.

“And bite,” Stu added with a sharp bite to the skin over my ribs. I held his hair tightly in my fist at the pain he caused. I could feel a drop of blood then running down my stomach which he hungrily licked up. Billy did the same with my collarbone and I hissed.

“Like vampires.” I said sarcastically.

Billy pulled away to smile, my blood staining his teeth. “We were watching Dracula.” He says smartly.

“Then allow me to return the favor?”

Stu nods quickly and sits up in front of me to expose his throat with excitement. I side eye Billy for reference and as much as I can tell, he didn’t hate the idea.

I start by leaving kisses up Stu’s neck until I find where I want to bite and I suck on the spot first giving it a purplish bruise. I lick the spot again and bite down, metallic liquid drips into my mouth. I leave his neck with a few soft kisses to the reddened area. When I pull away his eyes are misty and drunken.

I let my hands softly trace his face and speak softly. “Are you okay, Baby boy?”

“So good.” He whispered back. He leans forward and begins to make out with me, he holds a thumb over my throat and cuts off my air slightly to make me pant. To get back at him I let my cold hands explore under his jumper, nails scratching his skin as I hold his waist.

“Sharing is caring, sweetheart.” Billy says as he tries to get our attention.

“Never watched Care Bears.” Stu jokes under his breath and continues to kiss me. He straddles me and rolls his hips against me for friction. I let one of my hands move from his waist to grip his thigh making him groan through a hiss.

Billy decided to watch while he waits his turn as patiently as a psychotic boyfriend could. It was not very long. Not long at all. He shoves stu away and pushes me down to cover me with his body. “It’s my turn.” He says but both me and Stu can hear the whine he tried to hide.

I reach up to let my hand run though his hair before pulling his neck back. Leaning up I begin to mark his skin like I had done with Stu only more aggressively. Nipping at his Adam apple as I went. “Are you happy, brat?” I question against his throat and he puts pressure on my wound in response.

“Don’t Call me that.” He demands.

I bite again at his throat with an open mouth while one hand moves down from his hair to dig my nails sharply into his shoulder. “Don’t be a brat then.” I say back with a smirk.

“Guys!” Stu whines wanting our attention.

Billy sighs and gets off of me letting Stu again shower my face in kisses. His stubble makes me giggle “Your so pretty.” Stu says in amazement as he hears me.

“No, your pretty, baby boy.” I nip at his ear and his face gains a reddish drunken hue. A combination of the compliments, teasing and calling him Baby boy make him go misty eyed.

More months pass and the end of their school year is fast approaching. “We should finish what we started.” Billy says out of the blue over breakfast. After another bad beating from my parents, Billy and Stu helped move all my belongings to Billy’s cabin. From there we all kinda started living together.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I want to finish what I started. It’s not over yet.”

I hold my spoon pointing it at him, “let me guess, the principal, Tatum. Your not really gonna leave Sydney alive, are you?”

“We could frame her dad. Not that hard.” Stu adds.

“That would be a hit, local father now suspected for the murder of his wife four years prior and the killing of 5 teenagers and the Highschool principle. More tonight at 6.” I add sarcastically making us all share matching grins. With a nod we all disperse from the half eaten breakfast. “I’ll gather the dirt,” I say over my shoulder on the way to our room to change. Before I leave I kiss Stu’s shoulder in passing as he sharpens the blades. I also give a quick Kiss to Billy’s jaw as he holds my coat out to me, it’s actually his, but semantics.

“Be safe.” Stu yells.

“Come home before dark.” Billy adds.

I stand over the principle with a sneer. “Sick bastard, Little Kids, really?” I pull back my leg and kick his nose, hearing it snap brings but little satisfaction.

The boys take care of the body by literally hanging him up by the flag pole. School is canceled and we plot how to get Tatum away from Sidney.

While both boys had finally agreed that Sidney must die, they still wanted her to be the last possible victim.

Tatum is easily killed at a party and it is covered up by police to look like drugs. The reason it was so easy is because it was a ghost face party, literally everyone dressed in the dime store costumes to mock or commemorate the killer.

Slowly I had been releasing dirt on those that were killed, enough dirty secrets and bad decisions that people began to praise the killers.

“We’re like Batman!” Stu said throwing his fist into the air.

“That means your Robin,” Billy teases Stu with a light shove.

“What does that make bunny,” Stu says calling my nickname for me.

“Cat woman?” I ask aloud. Stu agrees and buried his head in my neck, shaking with excitement as he left pecks on my throat.

“Our girl is so smart, and pretty.” Stu gushes before chuckling. Sometimes he got into moods where he couldn’t sit still and would be twitchy when he did move. Usually it was from being over excited. I did like always and began to run my hands through his hair while humming soothingly. He sank into me while pushing me to lay down on the couch. Soon I was laid down with his head barely below where my bust ended while he tried to calm down. “You always treat me so well.” He said full of affection as he rubbed his face into my stomach.

“Where’s my kisses and cuddles?” Billy jokes with little heat to it. I lift my upper body as much as I can and he slides under me. My head resting on his thigh as he leaned against the arm rest. I teasingly bite his thigh through the jeans.

“Is my brat satisfied?” I say and he gives a groan.

“The buttons you push…” he exhales.

Soon it’s time for the final kill. Because I’m the smart one of the three of us; I decided that taunting her was not the best option. It would’ve only felt good for a moment and the more we taunt the more likely she could learn who was the killer. Bad idea.

So while Billy called her, Stu chased her through the house much like what was done with the other murders. But this time I was also there for backup in case my twin got too brave. I had already switched the bullets on the gun in the house so it would be useless. All the knives were thrown into the dryer where she couldn’t find them.

Unfortunately there was a complication as gale was also there at the time. I heard Gales scream and ran to the scene where she was. Quickly I dispatched her by stabbing her through the back of her neck.

Stu was wrestling Sydney on the ground and when he saw my display he gave an audible groan, “that was soo hot Bunny.” He said breathily.

“Focus!” I said back and Sydney looked between us back and forth with confusion.

“Right!” Stu said through the modulator and banged her head against the floor making her black out. Jumping into action we posed the bodies to make a more clear murder. I had stabbed gale a few more times before he fully passed to really sell it.

Sydney was posed in her room, scantily dressed and tied to the headboard with her blood on the walls spelling slut. Her computer was also pulled open to show off her porn site. “Like mother like daughter,” was written on a note I left behind.

The three of us planted the evidence and left before the cops ever arrived. And when they did they found Mr Prescott passed out drunk with a bottle of scotch close to him and covered in blood.

“Billy you should’ve seen it! She fucking stabbed that bitch like it was nothing! I almost came just from seeing it! So so hot!” Stu gushed as he held me in his lap. In between sentences he’d give me feverish kisses and touch me lovingly like something divine.

“Oh I saw, saw everything our sweetheart did. Damn hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Billy said tightening his grip on the steering wheel while speaking huskily. He leaned over to squeeze a hand on my thigh and stroke the inside of it.

“Cmon, it’s not over until it’s on the news. Don’t celebrate yet.” I admonish them both. Then taking the conversation a complete 180 I say, “So what college are we going to?”

A sequel following the Scooby doo movies here

[bitchinbarzal]

see you again | J.Hughes

summary: all he wants to do is see you again.

-

Jack was weirdly quiet the whole morning. From coming down to breakfast late, to not talking when everyone was debating their plans for the day and when they eventually agreed on a boat day he just shrugged and walked up to his room.

“What’s up with him?” Luke asks, the question is directed at Alex who’s sharing a room with Jack.

Alex shrugs “He was freaking out this morning when he woke up, like he was looking for someone in the room? He was so annoyed I woke him up”

Everyone frowns, confused by the behaviour and thinking of a reason until Cole speaks

“You know it’s his first time back here since she left”

Everyone looks down the table at him, a slight look of disbelief he’d say that and Cole says “What?! It is! I’m just saying that could be why he’s being sketchy”

Quinn rolls his eyes and adds “Jack’s fine, he’s probably just moody or something girl troubles from back in Jersey. He’s finally come to terms with it so don’t bring it back up”

The oldest brothers stern voice told everyone what they needed to know — don’t bring it up.

The rest of the day consisted of Jack sulking around while everyone tried their best to ignore it.

His brothers were becoming slightly worried about him, sharing glances through the day while his friends were trying to listen to Quinn and leave it alone.

They had docked the boat back up and Jack made his way back to the house immediately, not so much as sharing a glance with anyone.

After doing what they had to do with the boat Trevor decided to follow him into the house, finding him in the basement.

Jack was facing the wall where the cinema projected would usually play movies onto, the wall however now was black alongside most of the room.

“Hey man, you good?”

Jack doesn’t turn around when he answers “I saw her in my dream”

“What?”

“Y/N, i saw her in my dream last night and I got real pissed off with Alex because he woke me up and now I can’t see her anymore”

Trevor sighs and sits next to his friend on the couch “She’s gone Jack”

“I know that”

“You gotta-“

Jack turns to his friend and let’s put a frustrated noise “I know she’s gone! I know that Trevor but I miss her, she just left and I have never gotten over—“

Jack’s rant was interrupted by his friend throwing his hands down on the couch “She’s gone Jack, there was nothing we could do that night”

Jack sinks back into the couch cushions “It was my fault, we fought”

Trevor sighs, sitting on the arm of the couch. That night haunted everyone for months after it happened. You and Jack had fought about a girl that Trevor had brought to the lake house, your jealousy got the best of you at the party the boys had thrown and you guys had a fight.

You ended up storming off but being in the middle of nowhere you decided to drive.

It was stupid and Jack went after you immediately, only to find your car sitting in a ditch down the street where you’d crashed into a tree.

Jack left Michigan soon after that, he didn’t go to the funeral, he didn’t meet your parents for dinner when they flew to jersey to watch him play.

He felt so guilty.

His trauma had blocked you from his mind so much so he had started to forget things about you, like your smile, the colour of your eyes or the perfume you wore.

He was forgetting you. He didn’t want to forget you.

“Jack it was nobody’s fault, shit happens she wouldn’t want you to be this upset”

“I don’t know what she’d want because I can’t really remember much about her” Jack mumbles, playing with his fingers.

“She was your best friend” Trevor started “she loved you, weirdly she chose you over me but whatever I’m not salty”

Jack laughs at that, you’d met at a party in Plymouth when the boys were in the USNTDP and Trevor spent the entire night flirting with you only to go home with Jack.

The two spent the night talking about you, joined by the rest of the house later who joined in on the chat. From funny first meeting stories, remembering your weird quirks and Luke telling the story of the time you accidentally kissed him good morning infront of the Hughes’ because you were so tired and mistakened him for Jack.

Jack felt good for the first time, like he knew you better but it wasn’t enough.

When everyone had fallen asleep Jack got up and walked upstairs, grabbing his keys and getting in his car.

He sat there staring out the front window gripping onto the steering wheel while looking at the road, he can’t see the brick wall that was there now, where your car had tipped.

His hands fall down to the ignition and the engine comes alive. He flips down the sun visor, the picture of you smiling sweetly staring back at him.

“I’m coming baby, I’ll see you real soon”

[luneariaa]

✧ faciens certus.

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : { ps5 } harry osborn x reader.

✰ 𝐰. 𝐜. : 1k+

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : harry stays over your place for the night, and tries his best to convince you that he's alright.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : just pure fluff bc he deserves the world <33

. dividers by @/saradika-graphics !! 🏹

"Just your luck."

You simply said at the auburn-haired male, who just arrived at your place. He settled himself comfortably by the couch of your home, as it started to rain quite heavily outside, hitting every part of the window that's present.

"Gotta admit that I missed the rain. It's been heating up so badly lately." You handed him the glass of hot chocolate with a small smile.

Harry thanked you while grabbing the drink that you gave him, keeping his eyes on you even after he does so.

"Yeah, it feels nice, doesn't it? I mean, the rain makes it colder than usual, but still nice in its' own way."

You nodded a bit as you returned his occasional brief gazes, before shifting your eyes at the TV, which has lost its' signal due to the harsh weather outside, which prompted you to switch it off for now.

Harry gradually puts the glass of his now finished drink down on the table nearby, before letting his eyes stayed upon your standing figure. "Mind if I stay over for the night?"

"You're always welcome to stay here, Har."

An appreciative smile is plastered across his handsome face, deciding to walk toward your direction after bringing a chair along with him, placing it just next to yours. All while his gaze never once averted elsewhere.

"Mhm, you kept staring at me for the past few minutes."

"Got something in your mind?"

The auburn-haired male elicited a chuckle, now managing to fully catch your attention.

"Honestly?"

"I was just thinking, like, you know-- those old times where we used to spend our time with each other here, watching movies till the early hours of dawn.."

By this point, his eyes are shifted elsewhere as he continued further. "My illness, my dad sort of.. kept me away from meeting you before. Surely, there are valid reasons, but still.."

"It's just nice being able to see you again like this with no one else around."

"Ah, I get that." You leaned your back against the chair you're sitting on comfortably. "I missed you for that too."

"But.."

"Nothing's gonna happen to you after this, right..?" You don't know what has driven you to ask such a question since he is, well, already there looking all healthy and fine. You couldn't help yourself-- the deep fear of potentially losing him in any time scares you so much.

His smile gradually falters upon hearing your words; simply because he wasn't expecting that type of response from you-- not in a bad way though.

"You don't have to worry about me. Nothing's going to happen anytime soon. I've taken care of everything."

Harry tried his best to reassure you, yet deep down, he hated himself for a bit due to how much he worried you.

Maintaining his cheery demeanor, he forces himself to bury the feelings of guilt deep within him, knowing quite well that you have every right to feel this concerned over his wellbeing.

He doesn't want to be a liar, but he had to, for your sake. He cared about you too much to see you in this state.

Harry just.. wanted to be normal again, and he missed how things were between you two.

"Nothing's gonna stop that now, right?"

You eventually nodded it off, processing his words within your mind. "Yeah, you got a point."

"I'm sorry, I just.."

Any other thoughts are being shut out for now, his focus-- full of pure tenderness, is now completely on you.

"Hey, you don't have to apologize."

"Just please.. Don't worry about it anymore, okay? It makes me all sad seeing you this way about me. I appreciate you for that, always."

You eventually nodded, albeit wordlessly; not knowing what to say as a reply. Sensing the sudden slight of change, Harry finally decided to stand in front of you-- placing a finger gently beneath your chin.

"I'm fine, see?" He then grabs ahold of one of your hands while squeezing it lightly, which made you stand with him as well. The shared gazes lasted longer than necessary, but none of you cared much.

Just by the way your eyes looked up into his own; it's enough to make his heart race and melt at the same time. Dare he say-- you're so precious to him. He would shamelessly show it through his actions, even after all these years.

Even words couldn't be described with the way you gazed at him like that-- it's too much, yet never enough.

Slowly, and delicately, he guides your hand towards where his heart is; allowing you to feel the beat of his heart, and how he's very much alive to you.

He wouldn't lie, but he smiles so fondly, noticing on how his heart picks up just by the mere touch of your palm against his chest.

"Feel it as much you want."

"Isn't this nice?"

The warmth radiates from your hand alone, but you thought the opposite-- thinking that his heart and body are the ones who provide the most warmth. You needed this.

He's standing in front of you and alive. That's what matters.

A warm chuckle escaped from your lips, trying your best to stay composed since you started to feel a little giddy and silly.

"You're right.. This feels comforting."

All while letting his soft grip upon your hand stays, he now moves your hand from his chest, and onto his forehead. "You can-- I mean, check for my temperature as well, just to try convince yourself further, yeah?"

In truth, he just wanted to feel your touch for much longer, especially right at this moment. The rain outside was almost being forgotten.

Harry smiled over his own words; partly joking about it, but at the same time, he wasn't. You returned his actions with such ease, simply letting your hand stay upon his forehead for a bit longer.

You were being cautious as ever, as if not wanting to accidentally hurt him or anything in that way.

"You don't have to be so careful, you know," he remarks, finding your actions quite amusing to behold, to which you simply laughed it off.

"But I wanted to."

You did something that could be considered as bold afterwards; where you actually gave his cheek a small, yet sweet kiss. It's quite new, as you never had the courage to do something as such despite being friends for years.

"That should take all the remaining sickness away, hopefully."

As much as a sap you're being right now, you couldn't help yourself, especially when he keeps his gaze at you like that. He's just so.. You can't even resist him; feeling the urge to squish him if he was a plushie or anything akin to it.

It's just a kiss on the cheek, but why would he freeze and appear to be surprised by the sudden gesture? You're scared if you might have gotten too far with your actions--

But then, his expression is failing him once the reddish hue starts to form upon his cheeks, sharing a sweet and heartwarming laugh along with you.

Harry knows how much you cared for him; on how gentle you are with him. Even if the whole ordeal turns out to be a platonic one, he wouldn't mind the slightest, as long as you are within it.

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are alright. all rights reserved.