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#but surely that would never happen. now let me take a big swig of coffee
theboost · 5 months
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He was only 30 years old… he should’ve been at the gay bar.
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wildmoonworld · 9 months
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Good Girl
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader
Word count: 3.4k
Warnings: alcohol, cussing, mental and emotional abuse, arguing, jealousy
Summary: Jake made promises he would never keep. Continuing to lead you on and hurt you emotionally. Danny being the best human, comforts you in your darkest moments.
This story really means a lot to me, being i am taking personal events that has happened to me and write them. I guess you could say, it’s part of my healing process.
Part 2
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Rolling over the next morning, your eyes are still trying to adjust to the sunlight that was shining through the blinds. You slightly lift your head and see Jakes back is turned away from you. You notice that he has a tattoo on the middle of his back ‘Veni, Vidi, Vici’, at the time you didn’t know what it meant you just figured it was something in Latin.
Carefully, you sneak out of bed. Grabbing your clothes off of the floor to put them on before leaving the room. Walking down the hall, Danny was standing in the kitchen over his sink. Trying to sneak past him before he realized you were trying to leave unnoticed. Before opening the side door, he speaks.
“Y/N, be careful, please.” He says, you turn around to face him.
“Jake, is someone you cannot change.” He follows, taking a sip of his coffee. You walk over to the island across from him.
“I wasn’t planning on trying to change him, I know guys like him.” You respond, looking down at your hands has you fidget with your rings.
“I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N.” he says, walking over to you.
“I’ll be okay, Danny. Thank you for caring.” Wrapping your arms around him to give him a hug. He sits his coffee on the island and wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. Letting him go, you head back towards the door and pulling it behind you to head home.
 
 
The weekend before Christmas, you decide to go to the bars downtown. You haven’t heard from Jake since the day you left Danny’s place. You weren’t really worried about anything, you guys were just friends. You called Danny to see if he would want to join you, since Josh was at a work Christmas party for the night. Danny pulled into the bar just a few minutes after you, you grab your drinks and head to the back patio to sit. As you guys were talking, you both heard yelling at the end of the street. On the other end of the street was another bar, thinking there was probably a fight starting up, Danny and you begin to walk down the street with your beers in hand to check out what was going on. When walking up to the bar, you notice it was a couple who was arguing out front. It was starting to get pretty dark, so it was difficult to be able to see who the couple was. Your back was turned away from them to listen to what was happening.
“I NEVER FUCKING HIT YOU.” It was a man’s voice, a voice you have heard before and was pretty familiar with. Your eyes shoot directly up to Danny’s, he was standing in front of you and his eyes were just as big as yours were. You both knew exactly who it was.
“Danny, that’s Jake.” You whisper, your heart begins to beat faster than normal.
“It sure is.” Danny whispers back, he begins to make his way to Jake who had walked around the corner to cool off from the heated argument that ended.  
The girl who he was arguing with started to take off walking down the street, you were not the type to get in the middle of any confrontation. You decided to go into the bar and grab another drink.
Standing at the bar, you see Danny walk over to where you were standing and orders another beer.
“Is everything okay?” you question him, taking a swig of your cocktail.
“Oh yeah, he’s fine now. Apparently that was his girlfriend of the week and she slapped him as an ‘accident’. He tried to move past her and bumped her shoulder, from what she says that’s hitting her.” he said, your heart sank. Knowing Jake, he would never lay a finger on a female. You see him start to walk over to the bar, he wraps his arm around Danny’s neck and starts to dance to the music. Like nothing ever happened. You look down grabbing your drink off of the bar, as you go to walk away. Jake slings his arm around your neck, he pulled you in and looks into your eyes. You care about him, you don’t like that he hurts and from what you can see in his eyes…he is in fact hurting.
“Are you okay?” you ask Jake, looking up into his eyes.
“I’ll be okay.” he responds with a smirk.
“I’ve missed you.” you place your hand on his chest.
“I missed you.” he leans in and places a kiss on your lips. Letting go of him, you walk to the back door of the bar to go smoke a cigarette.
‘He broke up with this girlfriend of his not even 20 minutes ago and he’s kissing me?’
‘What the fuck just happened?’ you thought, as you were lighting one end of your cigarette.
Taking a drag from it and exhaling it into the air, your heart hurt, you know he’s fucking with your feelings. You haven’t heard from him in a week, randomly gets a girlfriend, breaks up w her and starts kissing you minutes later?
“Don’t get invested, Y/N.” you whisper to yourself.
As the night went on, you had pulled Danny away from the bar to begin dancing. You were already three sheets to the wind and was dancing like a complete idiot. Danny would always dance with you even when no one else would. As you were dancing, Jake walks through the back door and of course there were women to follow. One of the women was his best friend, but the way she looked at him and the way they would dance with each other. There was no way, they were ‘just friends’.
He makes his way to you, inches away from your face he’s crashes his lips into yours again. As your lips were locked with his, you both begin to smile. He hands you a fresh beer and then makes his way outside again. For the rest of the night you were there, you didn’t see him. Eventually, Danny drove you both home after the bars closed for the night. You ended up crashing in his bed, Danny being the gentleman he is took the couch.
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It was Christmas day, you had spent the day over at Josh’s house. You haven’t heard from Jake, from what you were able to process. He had you blocked, there was no way for you to communicate with him since none of his messages were delivering.
‘Strike one.’ you thought. You based all your dating experiences on strikes, you fuck up three times it’s a wrap. You hated the thought of being blocked from someone you truly cared about, but he was just another fuck boy you needed to stay away from. But you were you and you adored the person her was outside of dating.
“Do you want to do our Christmas tradition?” Josh asked you, as he was pulling the ham out of the oven. For the last few Christmas’s, you spent it with Josh and you both started this tradition where you would go to the local bar. No one would be there besides the bartenders, basically you had the entire bar to yourselves. Each year, inviting someone new to join. Danny and Sam started going with you guys and whoever they were dating at the time.
“Of course, it’s a tradition. We have to.” responding to his question.
“Should we invite anyone new this year?” he follows, arranging the food on the counter you both had spent hours on.
“Invite whoever, you boys are my only friends.” you say through a slight giggle. Walking around to start plating your food.
“Well, let’s eat and we will be on our way.” Josh says, waiting for you to finish.
You decided on comfortable clothes since it was pretty chilly out and there wasn’t anyone there to impress. You threw on a sweatshirt and a pair of leggings, Josh wore the same except he wore kakis. Pulling up to the bar, you notice Sam’s car out front. Danny more than likely rode with Sam, but off to the side you see a white Tahoe.
“Josh, who did you invite?” you ask, unbuckling your seatbelt.
“Jake, why?” he responded, getting out of the car.
“No reason.” you sigh, getting out of the car and walking towards the door. The guys had been there for a little bit, each of them are on their second or third beer.
You’re sitting at the bar, watching Josh and Sam on the stage where they do karaoke. Jake walks up beside you.
“How are you?” he leans on the bar, turning towards you.
“I’m good, you?” you reply, not wanting to give him any satisfaction.
“I’m okay, today was hard being away from Reed.” taking a gulp of his beer.
“I’m sure it’s always hard around this time of year.” you say glaring up at him. Your heart hurt for him. He was a shitty person, but he was a damn good Dad. No matter what he did to you, you knew he loved his boy and would do anything for him.
“I’m sorry, i just have been going through some stuff mentally.” he looks down at you, reaching over to hold your hand.
“I get that and i will always be here to listen to whatever you have to say, Jake. But you cannot block me and cut me off, then do this.” you say to him, holding up a finger and waving it between you two.
“I know.” he says.
“I care about you and i adore the person that you are. You have two more times to fuck this up and i’m out. I cannot keep doing this.” you follow. He pulls you into him and places a kiss on your head.
“I’ll do better, i promise.” he whispers against your head.
His promises were always going to be broken, you knew that. His lips were pretty, but the lies were even prettier. You wanted to believe him with your entire being. For the time being, you were going to take what you could get from him.
Later that night, obviously you decided to go home with him. Both of you were insanely intoxicated that you don’t remember all that happened. You just know you woke up to a tattooed man, laying so peacefully next to you.
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New Year’s Eve rolled around and Josh was planning to have a bonfire to ring in the New Year approaching. Jake was consistent for the last week leading up until that day. The morning you got a text from him,
Jake❤️‍🔥
“Can’t wait to see you tonight. New Year’s kiss?”
You
“You would never have to ask me, ready to see you. “
You decided to go shopping for the day and find something to wear since it was going to be freezing. Settling with a black long sleeve bodysuit, leggings and a neon pink and white windbreaker.
It was getting pretty late in the afternoon, you haven’t heard from Jake since morning. You didn’t want to bother him, so you went ahead to Josh’s. When arriving, Danny was outside getting things ready and Josh was inside getting food prepared for the party. Walking into his kitchen, you notice he could use some help.
“What do you need me to do?” You ask him, taking your jacket off and laying it over the chair in the dinner area.
“Fuck, thank you. I feel like I’m going crazy.” He slides a bowl of washed mixed fruit towards you along with a platter. You walk over to the sink and wash your hands before arranging the fruit onto the plate. You didn’t respond, you just took over what he needed done. Danny walks through the door, passing you in the kitchen and placing a tender kiss on your head.
“Hey, honey.” He spoke, he was the sweetest and tender man out of all four of them. He held a sweet spot within your heart, you would protect him at any cost.
“Hey, Danny.” You reply, sweetly smiling at him.
He was grabbing all the liquor that was in the freezer to take outside to the tables that were set up around the fire. Josh looks over to you and notices something off with you.
“Are you okay, love?” He asked, while tossing the wings he made in buffalo sauce.
“Have you heard from Jake?” you asked, still arranging the fruit not wanting to make eye contact.
“Yeah, he’s supposed to be on the way. He said he was bringing a friend.”
“Oh okay.” You spoke softly, you knew that the ‘friend’ that was coming along with Jake couldn’t be a guy. Jake was a player and got what he wanted every time.
Sitting outside next to the fire, you were talking with Danny when you see out of the corner of your eye a white Tahoe pull into the driveway. You didn’t want to make it noticeable that you weren’t paying attention to what Danny was talking about, so you positioned yourself where your back was turned away from Jake to avoid the hurt you were about to endure. There was quite a bit of people at this party, people you had met before at previous parties, everyone you knew by name.
You could hear his voice in the distance, his voice sent chills down your spine as flashbacks start to flood your memory. Jake makes his way around to everyone, he comes up to Danny and gives him a hug to greet him. Not a single hug, word or glance in your direction, you were nobody to him at that point. Danny looks down at you, making eye contact with him. He knew, you were hurting. He extends his arm out to you, pulling you up out of the chair taking you across the yard to grab another drink from inside.
“I have to pee.” You whisper, trying to contain the lump in your throat that you knew would follow with tears if you didn’t get somewhere private soon.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Danny asked standing outside the door of the garage.
“Can you make me a drink? Please?” you respond, slightly smiling. A tears escapes your tear duct, wiping it away as fast as you can.
“Don’t worry about him, Y/N.”
“He’s an asshole, if he can’t see how amazing you are.” He follows, tears start flowing so hard you’re unable to stop. Danny pulls you into his arms and guides you inside and down the hall to the bathroom. You quickly enter the bathroom and close the door behind you, sliding down the door you wrap your arms around your legs, continuing to cry.
“I’ll go make that drink, I’ll be right back.” Danny says through the door.
You stand up and look into the mirror. This man has you crying on New Year’s, a man that you have known for almost a month, a man that you have been intimate with. You never caught feelings for anyone else you were just sleeping with, the fact that he made you catch feelings so quickly pissed you off.
“Strike two.” you said into the mirror. You dried your eyes and fixed the runny makeup, before you know it you looked perfectly fine the only thing on your mind at that exact moment was to get the drunkest you’ve ever been. You sling the door open and see Danny standing on the other side with your drink in hand. You take the drink from his hand and take a sip.
“Thank you, lovely.” You say, wrapping your arm within his to guide him back outside.
“Anytime, are you okay?” He asked
“Never better.” You reply, smiling up at him.
The both of you make your way outside and to sit back down, walking back you see Jake hanging around a girl you have never seen before. Unlatching from Danny’s arm you walk straight over to the blonde haired, busty girl.
“I’ve never seen you around these parts, I’m Y/N.” you say extending your arm out to shake her hand.
“Caroline.” She shakes your hand. Jake ended up removing himself from the situation and walked over to talk with Sam.
“You are gorgeous.” She says. There is no way you could remotely not like this girl, she was sweet and it isn’t her fault that Jake is such an asshole.
“Thank you.” You smile and walk back to Danny.
The entire night you hung out with Danny by your side, it was approaching midnight and Josh brought out a cooler so we wouldn’t have to keep going inside to grab our drinks. Bending down to grab another beer, you hear everyone starting the count down before just before it strikes midnight. Running back over to Danny to give him his drink, you sit down wanting to ignore all the New Year’s kissing that is about to happen.
“4, 3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
As soon as the countdown ended, you feel a warm hand run across your cheek turning your head to face him. He leans in and crashes his lips into yours, you’re breathless, everything in that moment stops, and your hearing goes muffled. Realizing what Danny has done, you don’t stop him, you let the kiss continue as long as he possibly wanted. Pulling away, making eye contact with him trying to process what the actual fuck just happened.
“Happy New Year, love.” He whispers, smiling with his perfect teeth and the way his skin glowed from the reflection of the fire burning.
“Happy New Year, Daniel.” You whisper back, blushing of course because he caught you completely off guard. You never thought of him in anyway of just being one of your best friends, he was tender, sweet and loving. You loved those things about him most, but the way his lips felt against yours was magic. Almost like a dream, he was perfect in the moment.
“I thought I’d get your mind off of other things as they were happening.” He replies.
“Thank you.” You respond, fidgeting with your rings on your fingers. Looking over you see everyone is carrying on drinking and dancing to the music by the fire. Then there was Jake, you make eye contact for a second. The way his eyes were pure evil, jealousy ran through his veins and it was totally noticeable. Tapping Caroline’s leg, he motions for her to get off of the tailgate. Watching her follow behind him like a lost puppy was almost comical. That girl has no idea what she is in for. You stand up and almost stumble over from all the alcohol you have consumed, Danny quickly stands up and catches you from falling over.
“How about we go inside?” he says, putting his arm around you. Shaking your head in agreeance, you wrap your arm around his waist for balance. Walking into the house and down the hall to the spare bedroom, he sits you down on the bed and pulls your shoes off of your feet one by one. He stands you up and holds you for balance as you take your pants off. Everyone knows you just cannot sleep with pants, it’s one of your biggest pet peeves. He pulls back the covers and helps you into the bed, he goes to pull away and you reach for his hand.
“Can you sleep with me tonight?” you ask quietly. He raises his eyebrows and looks down at you.
“Not like that, just to hold me. Please?” you follow, tears starting to form in your eyes.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry.” He says pulling the covers back quickly and sliding into the bed beside you. He wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you into his chest.
“I’m sorry, I’m so dysfunctional.” You apologize pouring tears onto his sweater.
“Never be sorry for someone else’s mistakes, this isn’t your fault. I’ll stay here as long as you want me to.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head.
“Thank you, for being so kind to me.” You respond.
“Always, honey.” He replied. Closing your eyes, you take in the scent of the bonfire that is lingering on his sweater. Eventually, falling into such a deep sleep. Danny never moved a muscle the entire night.
The amount of embarrassment you endured makes your skin boil, the way he played with you mentally and emotionally. You were stuck wanting to leave the situation be and wanting to give him, his third chance. He didn’t deserve another chance but knowing the person you are, you don’t want to give up on the person you adore the most.
Part 3
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bnhabadass · 3 years
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Pairing: Bakugou x reader Genre: Smut, 18+, Mafia AU Trope: Woke up married Dialogue Prompt: “Aren’t we supposed to be working?”  Warnings: overdosing on cold medicine, mixing cold medicine with alcohol, dub-con, mentions of sex while unconscious, vomiting Word Count: 4,480
This is my contribution to this month’s bnharem collab. I was so happy when I spun the roulette wheel and it landed on my favorite au, the mafia au. I hope you all enjoy and make sure to check out everyone else’s contributions here. Also a big thanks to @doinmybesthere​ for being my beta reader and putting so much work into creating the master list for this collab.
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“A fever? Are you fucking kidding me?”
You winced at the voice coming out of your phone. You were curled up in bed, a heavy futon draped over your achey, chilled body. “I’m really sorry,” you croaked into the receiver. “I can’t get out of bed; there’s no way I’ll be able to come into work today.”
“You know how important tonight’s meeting is.”
You could feel the fire in the eyes of your underboss as he spat at you about how important tonight’s festivities were. You couldn’t care less. You hated the guy, but more importantly you hated your father for getting you in this mess.
A debt needed to be paid and your family couldn’t afford to take out a second mortgage on the house. So your father, as smart as he thought he was, went to the nicest restaurant on the far side of town where the boss of one of the most dangerous mobs in the city stationed his office.
A debt for a debt. That’s what he told you as he came home smiling with a big check in his wallet. No one in your family knew where he got the money, but he seemed confident enough that he’d be able to pay it back.
A month went by and one day, three scary men knocked on your apartment door. They said they were there to “collect”.
You were terrified. You thought they were there to rob you, to take the money you had been saving in a rainy-day fund. But no, they came to collect you. Now, it’s been four months and you’re still stuck doing odd jobs for them--grocery and coffee runs as well as spending reports and other money related things you are less than qualified to do.
You hate your job. You hate having to put up with the unorthodox hours and the unsavory jobs and the complaints about your work ethic and the having to do it over again because you didn’t do it right the first time. You want out. If you weren’t positive that if you left they would be able to hunt you down, you would have fled the country by now.
But your father’s debt still hasn’t been paid.
“Look,” you pleaded. “I can come in tomorrow and work double my usual time. Please, Kirishima-san, I just need the day to rest.”
“Not a chance. You’re coming in today and that’s final. If you don’t, well, then maybe we need to take an extra payment from your parents.”
Before you could even process what he just said, he hung up the phone.
Another payment from your parents. You couldn’t possibly let them take any more from your family. With a new threat looming over your head, you mustered up enough strength to push off of your futon and get dressed for the clients’ dinner.
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By the time it was 7:00 in the evening, you had taken a large swig of cold medicine and were ready to spend the night serving these criminals.
Outside of the restaurant, two bodyguards were stationed at the front door and one at the back entrance. All three of them were dressed in black from head to toe. You, on the other hand, were tasked with serving your boss’s clients, so your outfit differed from theirs.
You were dressed in attire suited for waiting tables. Black slacks stretch across your legs and your pristine shirt was smoothed against your body. A tight black vest clung to your chest and pressed against your boobs, squishing them together. If it weren’t for the fever, chills, and headache, you would look like you belonged with this crowd of criminals.
You flashed your ID to the guard at the back door and he nodded you in. Your eyes had to adjust to the fluorescent kitchen lighting, but once they did you saw how busy everyone was. It truly was one of the most important nights for your boss, so you understood why you were needed. Still, this night would truly take the most out of you.
“Oi, (L/n),” one of your boss’s associates called for you. “Take these to table four. I’ve been covering your ass for the last twenty minutes.”
“Of course, Kaminari-san.” You bowed your head and skirted over to the table where two well-dressed men spoke with one another in a hushed tone. You placed their meals in front of them and bowed your head.
“Wait,” one of them called as you began to walk away. “I asked for a Jasmine tea. This is Sencha.”
“Yeah,” the other one piped up. “And I asked for a Sencha tea and this is Jasmine.”
You wanted to scream. You wanted to yell into the abyss and slap those men across the face. But of course all you did was bow in apology and take the cups back. Kirishima’s words to you over the phone rang loud and clear in your mind.
“Anything they need, you get it for them. These are important people the boss works with and we can’t have idiots like you messing this up for us.”
The men smirked at you and as you turned around to grab their “correct orders,” the man who ordered the Jasmine tea leaned over to leave a hard, painful smack across your ass.
You froze but didn’t say anything and walked away.
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It was still early in the night but you had run yourself thin. You needed to sit down or to at least take a sip of water, but there was no room for breaks as you bounced from table to table getting the people what they wanted. You had even left the venue a couple times to retrieve items like the proper creamer one client required in their coffee.
Your throat was so sore and dry and it was aching for a break. Your entire body was aching for a break. But as you saw someone sitting at one of the tables raise her hand to wave you over, you had to put all of your aches aside to tend to her needs.
“Good evening, ma’am.” You bowed your head. “How may I assist you?”
A small smile was on her dark red painted lips. She seemed to be searching for something as she eyed you up and down. “Do you happen to know when Bakugou-san will be joining us?”
Bakugou-san… Were you supposed to know who that is? You had never heard the name before, although you knew your boss had many ties throughout the district. It could be one of them.
“I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. “I could ask my supervisors if they happen to know.”
She waited a moment. She seemed to be searching for something in your expression. “That’s all right. You may go back to work now.”
You bowed and thanked her.
Bakugou-san.
The name did sound familiar, but you’re not sure where you could have heard it. It wasn’t until you were deep in thought, trying to recall where you had heard the name, that you could feel something pushing up against your throat. Oh god. Your stomach was churning.
You ran to the bathroom, pushing someone out of the way to get there. You’d probably hear an earful from Kirishima for pushing a guest, but you needed to find a toilet before--
Oh no.
You barely made it into the stall before emptying the contents of your stomach onto the white tiles of the bathroom floor. Your legs collapsed from under you and you kneeled in your vomit as you coughed up your stomach lining into the porcelain bowl.
Tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breathe while hacking everything you had into the toilet. The black eyeliner you threw on before leaving the house had smudged into raccoon eyes around your lashes.
You rested your cheek against the toilet, ignoring all of the germs that were most likely crawling up your skin and into your pores. The toilet seat felt cool against your burning cheek and watering eyes. You thought you could die happily here, kneeling on the bathroom tiles in a pile of your slowly cooling vomit.
“Aren’t we supposed to be working here?”
Your eyes shot open, and in trying to stand up you slipped. Your ass landed in the smeared vomit. You winced and let out a drawn out, “fuuuck.”
It took you a moment before opening your eyes again and looking up at the man in front of you. And boy did your eyes widen. He was clearly a guest at the clients’ dinner. His blonde hair was slicked back and the bulge of his muscles under his crisp black button down didn’t go unnoticed by you. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms and as he crossed his arms over his chest, his sleeves began to tighten.
“Who the hell are you and why are you puking on the floor?”
It took you a second to find your voice. “I’m, um...” you trailed off. “(L/n), sir.” You cleared your throat. “I am a worker for the person hosting this dinner.” You tried to stand up and bow, but he put a hand up to stop you.
“You work for them.” It was a statement not a question, but you nodded anyway. “Why? What do you owe?”
You’re not sure why he was asking, but his intimidating glare compelled you to answer his every question. “My dad owes them money,” you admitted. “And he wasn’t able to pay them back.”
“Who do you mean by them?”
You weren’t sure how to answer. You didn’t even know what these people did. For all you knew they were drug mules or assassins. You never wanted to know what they did when you were roped in. After all, the less you knew meant you could have more of a normal life. “The boss,” you finally answered. Who the boss was, you weren’t sure. You answered to Kirishima but he didn’t have much power aside from ordering around you and every other person unfortunate enough to be roped into working for them.
The man in front of you scoffed. “Get up.”
You scrambled to your feet, ignoring the wave of nausea that hit you. The man led you out of the bathroom, and as you walked behind him, people who passed the two of you stopped and stared. Oh no, it had to be from the vomit stains on your leg and down your shirt. You probably stank to high hell and your eyes wouldn’t stop watering from your fever.
The man stopped and you had to keep from bumping into him. “There’s an extra work shirt in the closet,” he said. “There should also be some slacks in there. Leave your dirty clothes in a pile and I’ll have someone collect them.”
His voice was demanding and it took you a moment to register what he said. It wasn’t until he snapped in your face that you moved.
“We don’t have all day, princess.”
You flinched and nodded before scurrying into the closet and flicking the light on. Inside the closet was the restaurant’s sad excuse for a boiler room. The low humming from the machinery brought you back into the present as you searched for the change of clothes you were promised.
There was a crisp white shirt folded on one of the shelves as well as a few different slacks in varying sizes. The shirt was a size too small, so you had to leave the first couple buttons popped open. Before leaving the closet, you tried to think about who the man was and why he was helping you. Was it possible that he wanted something in return?
When you emerged from the closet, he looked you up and down. You were too tired, however, to notice his lingering glare on your chest and the way the button down squeezed your breasts closer together.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes. You’re not sure why you were too scared to look into his vermillion eyes, but the way he called you princess earlier as he snapped at you had definitely made you tremble in your core, and you swore that if you looked up to meet his eyes, your fever would only go higher and higher.
“Why the hell’d you come here if you were sick anyway? Are you trying to poison everyone in the damn building?” His words were like little bullets that shot at every one of your doubts of coming in tonight.
You thought back to why you had come in the first place. You were huddled up in your futon that morning when Kirishima called. You begged to stay home, right? But you couldn’t. You squinted hard as you tried to remember why you weren’t allowed to rest. “I was threatened,” you thought out loud. It wasn’t directed towards the man but he nodded in any case.
“(L/n) was it, right?”
You finally managed to look up at him with bleary eyes. “Yeah, um...” You couldn’t seem to remember what his name was. Wait, he hadn’t told you. He had just led you around and given you new clothes, but he never properly introduced himself.
“Bakugou Katsuki,” he said as if he could read your mind. His lips turned up into a smirk. “But call me Katsuki.”
“Katsuki,” you mumbled. “Bakugou Katsuki.” You had heard that name before, but where. “Bakugou,” you mumbled again as if you were trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. “Bakugou-san.”
He quirked an eyebrow up at you.
“Oh!” It hit you like a ton of bricks and as soon as you shot up, you had to recoil because of the ache in the back of your neck. “There’s a woman looking for you, Bakugou-san, er, Katuki,” you bowed.
He just chuckled. “There’s a lot of people looking for me tonight. Who was it?”
That’s a good question. You squinted as if you were looking deep into your memories to remember who it was who asked for him. “She was a woman,” you remembered. “With long dark hair and dark red lips.”
Katsuki nodded. “I see the Yaoyorozus are here.”
The Yaoyorozus. You weren’t sure what that could mean but you didn’t feel like questioning it, so you nodded instead.
Katsuki was looking down at you. His arms were crossed over his chest but a smirk that had been playing across his face all night wouldn’t seem to go away. “Feeling better?”
You didn’t feel better. Although you felt cleaner in the new clothes, there was still a throbbing in your head that wasn’t going away and the overhead lights made your eyes water. But the way that Katsuki looked at you like he was expecting you to say yes just drew you in.
He could tell that the way you nodded a yes in response to his question was a lie, and his face fell before pushing a hand up to your forehead, checking your temperature. “Have you taken anything today?”
You had to think back to earlier that day when you brought the bottle of cold medicine up to your lips, not even reading the recommended dose before downing what you could and leaving your home. “Yeah, um, I took some medicine.”
The grin that had been spread across Katsuki’s face returned. “Well I guess we’ll have to get you some more.”
He grabbed your wrist and led you through the halls and over to the bar. You didn’t pay attention to where you were going. The world seemed to be going too fast for you to keep up. What you were able to notice was that everyone’s eyes were on you as you gently swayed back and forth, trying to settle yourself down. As you were in your own head, you couldn’t start to picture what everyone else saw when they looked at you. You with your raccoon eyes due to streaky makeup that you couldn’t stop rubbing.
“Here.” Katsuki shoved a glass in your face. “Not necessarily traditional medicine but it’ll get the job done.”
You looked up at the whiskey glass in his hand. The ‘medicine’ was a deep brown color which swirled around as he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against his thick ones as you took the glass. You lifted it up to your nose and took a deep breath in, gagging at the smell. “Um, I don’t think I should.” You had been warned about mixing alcohol with drugs and the dangers that came with it, but no one had ever told you not to mix drinks with cold medicine. Still, that couldn’t be right, right?
“Come on, it’s good for you,” he egged you on. “Besides, it’ll get that nasty taste out of your mouth.”
You had never tried whiskey before. You were used to lighter drinks, something bubbly with a shot of vodka or two in it. But this was almost too much. You lifted the glass up to your lips and tilted it back. Your lips stung as they made contact with the drink, but you didn’t want to seem weak to Katsuki. He’d taken care of you so far and seemed pleasant enough, albeit intimidating.
As you tipped it back further and took more of the drink into your mouth, Katsuki pushed his hand against the bottom of the glass so you couldn’t tear it away, making sure you would drink every last drop. It stung going down and the cubes pressing against your lip were colder than you expected. You gagged as a couple loose tears rolled down your face from the drink’s burning sensation. You bet you looked even more of a mess now.
“Good girl,” Katsuki said with a low demeanor. With his thumb, he wiped away a drop of whiskey that rolled down your chin.
“And this’ll make me feel better?” You didn’t think you were supposed to drink when you were sick, but you were far too tired to even think about what was wrong and what was right. If he said that it’d make you feel better, then that had to be a good thing. You’re sure of it.
“Sure will.” He placed a firm, calloused hand on your head and stroked down your hair. You nuzzled into his warmth.
It was such a nice sensation that it almost made you forget that you were supposed to be working. That there were people waiting on you to bring them their food and fetch their creamer, people who were ready to slap your ass and laugh as soon as you turned away.
“I have a,” you started, not really sure where that sentence was going. “I have to go back to work.”
As you began walking away, Katsuki stopped you, pulling you back over so your face was practically pressed up against his chest. “No you don’t. You’re sick, remember?”
Right, as if you hadn’t forgotten. But he was right. You were sick and your medicine hadn’t kicked in yet. You couldn’t risk spreading your germs and getting anyone else sick.
You watched the dinner guests from afar. You leaned in to hear conversations about hitmen and other rivaling mobs around town. Some were about money laundering and clients that needed to be taken out, whatever that meant.
At one point, someone asked to pull Katsuki aside and talk alone, but instead he just pulled you closer.
“The hell do you want, Yoarashi?”
Yoarashi was a big guy, bigger than Katsuki, but it was clear even to you that he was intimidated by the blonde in front of him.
“You owe me for what I let you borrow last month.”
“I don’t owe you shit.”
To you, they sounded like they were underwater and you weren’t sure what they were discussing, but you were curious to learn more.
“Come on, Bakugou. Work with me here.”
“I’m a busy man, Yoarashi. Now get out of my face before I have my men take care of you.”
Something about the raw power and the threatening tone behind Katsuki’s voice made you excited. You wanted to melt into his words, but you weren’t sure why.
“Busy man?” Yoarashi scoffed. “Come on, Bakugou. You’ve barely been seen all night. Where have you been, fucking this little lackey of yours?”
He didn’t mean you, did he? Before you could even comprehend what he just insinuated, Katsuki turned you around and pressed your face up against his chest. You could feel yourself growing even hotter as you were pushed into one of his pectorals. One of his hands cupped the back of your head. Was he protecting you?
“Listen here,” you heard him say. “Don’t contact us ever again unless you want to end up like your first boss did. I can make your life a living hell and I will, got that?”
“Don’t think I don’t have other contacts, all right? You aren’t the only one in this town with resources, Bakugou.”
You felt something jab into the other side of Katsuki’s chest. Did Yoarashi hit him? A few seconds went by before you heard the snapping of fingers and two men came over to drag Yoarashi away.
Katsuki released the hold he had on you, and you watched as the tall man struggled out of his hold. “You aren’t gonna tell anyone what you saw here tonight, right princess?”
You shook your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you felt when you saw that man being dragged away. You were scared, of course; scared for your own life and of the raw power that Katsuki seemed to hold. But on top of fear there was something else. There was a tingle between your thighs that wouldn’t seem to go away, and there was also a sense of excitement. Out of all the people here, this man was paying attention to you. You were far from Mafia material, but he clearly saw something in you and you wanted more of his gaze lingering on you.
Your mind felt hazy with Katsuki and you wanted even more. You didn’t know what to do when you felt him smooth his hand down your back. You didn’t know what to do when his usual smirk turned into something much more dangerous. And you didn’t know what to do when he leaned over and pressed his lips against your own.
His lips felt heavenly as they explored you. They were soft and welcoming despite his cold and dangerous exterior. His tongue probed its way into your mouth. He tasted like whiskey and something else which you assumed was just him. He bit your lip and it felt like he smiled when you let out a moan.
When he released, you felt as if the whole world was spinning with Katsuki. You wobbled around a bit and he chuckled. You tried asking if you could sit down, but the words refused to come out. The last thing you remember is seeing the world go black, the sound of the clients’ dinner fading out of earshot, and two strong arms carrying you away from reality.
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You were in pain by the time you woke up. Your body, especially your head, ached tremendously and you wished the sun would stop shining so bright through your window. But wait, the window in your bedroom at your apartment faced another building. The sun never shined too bright in the morning when you were at home.
Slowly, you peaked your head out from under the covers and looked around. You weren’t in your bedroom, but you were in a bedroom. The bed you had been asleep in was enormous, but aside from that there was not much else furniture in the room or even any pictures to signify who the room could belong to.
It wasn’t until you sat up that you realized just how exposed you were under the covers. You couldn’t find your clothing anywhere. What were you even wearing last night? Where were you last night?
You remembered being sick and being called into work by Kirishima. You were stressed. You were nauseous. There was a beautiful woman who asked for someone in particular but you were too sick to remember what their name was, right?
And then you raced to the bathroom and met--
A groan from beside you shook you out of your thoughts, and as soon as you saw the person lying in bed next to you, all of your memories came flooding back.
“Morning, baby girl,” Katsuki said.
You didn’t know what to say. Your mouth hung open and you felt lightheaded.
Katsuki was shirtless under the covers and you were too scared to ask if he had anything on covering his lower half. “You put on quite the show last night.”
Last night. Where you met him. What did you do last night? “I...” You didn’t know what to say, and that made Katsuki let out a booming laugh.
“Come on, you remember at least a little of it don’t you?”
You shook your head. Then you shook your head again. You couldn’t stop shaking your head.
Katsuki put a hand on your shoulder and you stopped. He had a shit eating grin spread across his face that you wanted to both punch and kiss at the same time. “First throwing up at my party and then getting blackout drunk in front of all my guests.”
“What?” You could barely remember anything. What did he mean ‘his party’? The clients’ dinner was run by…
Your eyes widened as you realized just who you had found yourself naked in bed with. Who had found you puking on the bathroom floor. Who that stunningly gorgeous woman was asking for earlier.
You clamped a hand over your mouth and Katsuki let out another chuckle. “You really were the life of the party.” He grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to his side of the bed, and you let him. He dragged his hand up and down your exposed body and roughly cupped your sex. “I had a blast toying around with you last night, but now I want you to be able to remember what it feels like when I bury my cock inside of you, sweetheart.”
You hated the way he was grabbing you and the way he forced your legs to open up for him, but what you hated more than any of that was the way his words made your inner thighs ache and how they instinctively parted just for him.
You turned away as he leaned down to smother your chest with rough kisses, and as you looked over to your left hand, you couldn’t help but notice a diamond ring that wasn’t there the night before.
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rafescoke · 3 years
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Brother’s Best Friend ; Rafe Cameron
masterlist
Request: heyy I’ve recently found your account and I just felt in love with the way you write and with your works so I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is Kelce’s sister, she’s sitting alone at home and suddenly she hears a doorbell ringing, she comes to open the door and that’s Rafe and she says something like “Kelce’s not home” or smth like that and Rafe answers “I actually came to see you” or smth like that. It can be smut or fluff or whatever I don’t really care. Sorry if this is chaotic but I just want the reader to be black and I have bad ideas lmao 😭 sending love ❤️❤️
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader
Summary: Fooling around with your best friend's sister is not a good sign, especially when it involves something more than skinny dipping and drinking alcohol together.
Warnings: Slight smut, mentions of drinking, slight angst, teasing Rafe Cameron
A/N: I'm so close to 700 followers wtf y'all are truly amazing ily! I'm finishing all requests in my inbox for the new few days; thank you to those who put their trust in me to write their ideas <33
(Y/N) could never deny the attraction she felt towards a certain brunette boy with that charming smile.
The feeling evolved for the first time when he came over to her house to see Kelce. He was so polite to her; giving her a turn on passing the ball and scolding Kelce and Topper for not wanting to give her a chance at playing basketball in the swimming pool.
But she was only 8 back then, and she regarded the feeling as nothing more than a silly crush.
Rafe Cameron changed when he entered high school. (Y/N) couldn't explain what was wrong, but he was not her Rafe anymore. He didn't hold the door for her, scold Kelce for making fun of her or do anything that used to make her heart soar.
Her thoughts were disrupted when a fresh blue towel hit her squarely on the face, causing her to yelp in shock.
"Do you wanna come down to the lake with us?"
(Y/N) rolled her eyes, pulling the towel to her side, and closed her magazine with a snap. Her eyes fell back to the three guys, lingering on the tallest one a little bit too long.
She cleared her throat, "No, I'm tired."
Kelce shrugged, walking towards the entrance of their home from the swimming pool. He didn't feel like having (Y/N) around anyways, because that would mean he would have to protect her from his friends.
Kelce loved his friends, of course, but he also knew the other side of them that uses girls like Kleenex tissue only to throw them away again.
"On a second thought-" (Y/N) said, stopping the three boys from entering the big house. "I think I'll go."
"You sure?" Kelce asked. God. Now he would have to play the big-brother stimulator for the whole night.
The night sky was dark, and the only light came from the moonlight up above and sometimes from the flashlight of each other's phone. Boozes laid messily on the wooden deck and their clothes were discarded all over the place.
Not one person was sober, and they were all laughing to a joke by Topper.
"Okay, okay, last one-" Topper said excitedly. He shivered, and (Y/N) thought about it as a response towards the cold lake water or the excited nerves of sharing another stupid joke. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"
"Easy. To get to the other side," Rafe answered proudly. A beer drop slid down from his lips to his chin, and (Y/N) felt a strong desire to lick it.
"Wrong."
"Okay, fine, I don't know."
Topper smiled widely, and (Y/N) could see this joke coming from a few miles away. "To get to the loser's house. Knock knock."
Rafe pulled a face, his eyebrows raised. "Who's there?"
"The chicken."
Kelce and Topper's laugh filled the silence around them, and (Y/N) found herself slightly smiling at the joke. Rafe groaned, finally understanding the joke and being angry at himself for willingly taking the bait.
"Okay, okay. The joke's over."
Kelce laughed again before taking a full swig of another beer bottle. He stared at the sky, and let out a loud huff.
"Wish we can go up there."
"Me too, man," Topper agreed. He joined Kelce by staring up at the dark sky, both clearly high out of their minds.
"Do you want to?"
(Y/N) looked to her side, not noticing Rafe who had moved from his previous position near Topper to beside her. She quirked her head to one side, her face questioning.
"Go up to the sky," he explained. He watched as she looked up to the sky, her mouth slightly parting. Her chest heaved peacefully, and her wet body donning the lilac bikini never looked so beautiful and perfect.
"Nah. I'm too scared."
"Even when I'll go with you?" he smiled. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, though her heart was soaring brightly; she would never feel scared anymore if he were to be around her all the time.
"Yeah. Even when you’ll go with me. Besides, it's not possible."
"Let people enjoy things," he said, and he was so close to her now because she could smell the coffee mint from his breath. Her heart was beating wildly, though this would be the ten-thousandth time he did this to her.
It never failed to leave her completely breathless.
"You're drooling," he whispered, and used his thumb to wipe her wet lips from the beer. Her breath hitched, and she couldn't utter any words back. She was too mesmerised with the whole situation.
His fingers stopped at her chin, looking into her eyes, and he was petrified too. He leaned in, but before anything could happen, (Y/N) moved away. He cleared his throat, and swam back to the deck.
‘I’m drunk’ was repeated by him all the way to the the place he threw his clothes off, shaking his head at the thought that he was so close to kissing her. He looked back to her direction in the lake, still staring at him. He focused back on the ties of his shorts, and made his way back to the Kelce’s house.
He ignored his best friends calls.
. . .
(Y/N) never really liked school, but she loved the after-activity that she got herself in.
Like cheerleading.
She used to think of the sport as something quirky, but in truth, once she was accepted into the school’s cheerleading team, she had never been more into a sport than before.
She walked down the field to the other side of the track where the other girls were waiting for her. Her training skirt flew slightly from the wind, and she was trying to hold them down all while carrying the water bottle and a duffle bag.
She exchanged a few greetings with her other friends, putting down her duffle bag and her water bottle. The sun was scorching hot, and all she felt like was eating ice cream inside of their boat whilst streaming down the lake, but the last time she had ditched cheer practice, it hadn’t ended well.
“Uh-oh,” someone exclaimed behind her. “Big bro is coming.”
(Y/N) looked up to the field, and sure enough Kelce was running towards her in his jersey. (Y/N) sighed, not knowing what she did now that could earn her a lecture from Kelce.
“Hey, I’m bringing a girl home after practice,” he said. “Would you mind getting a ride with someone else?”
She groaned, “Fuck, Kelce, no. You can tell your new scandal to fuck off because I am not getting an Uber to walk back to home.”
“Look, please? You can ask your friends to give you a ride, right? It’s important,” he begged. His eyes were scanning her friends now, obviously trying to find someone who could help his sister, and when he found one, his smile quirked upwards. “Yo, Sarah! Can you drive (Y/N) home after practice?”
Sarah walked towards them, her blonde hair up in a ponytail. She slung her arms around (Y/N)’s shoulders, noting the exasperated expression on her face, and gave Kelce a glare.
“You should let her drive a car if you’re going to bring a girl home after school,” she said. Kelce groaned, knowing the amount of shit he will be getting from the people around him, but he was truly trying to make it right for this new girl.
“Look, I’ll buy y’all anything for a week. Food? Sure. Clothes? Sure.”
Sarah clapped her hands, seemingly excited, and forced (Y/N) to say yes. She wouldn’t mind driving (Y/N) home, because she wanted to catch up with her about some gossip too.
“Fine. But I’m driving my own car tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” was all he said before he jogged down to the soccer team.
That evening was hell to (Y/N). She couldn’t get the formation right, the sun was getting hotter and hotter, her hair was sticking out weirdly, and worst of all, she couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday’s event.
He was so, so close to her.
“(Y/N), come on! What’s gotten into you? The top part, again!” The coach yelled, slapping her hands against her lap. There were sweat forming on her forehead, and she was obviously hot and bothered from this whole situation.
But sport was sport. The coach wasn’t going to let today’s training to waste, and she intended for the new number to work.
(Y/N) muttered a soft ‘sorry’ before going back to her position, her heart still thumping at the thought. The cheer started, and her mouth was saying the words, but her brain was somewhere else.
The two guys by her side picked her up by her calf, and she felt the wind gushing out from beside her ears. She was high up in the sky now, throwing one arm upwards and balancing herself on one leg, and it was finally time now, to twirl into the two boys’ arms, but she wasn’t ready. Her mouth didn’t utter any words from the cheer, too focused on the step, and before she could jump back into their arms, she felt herself slipping.
“(Y/N)!” The coach yelled, running towards her by the track. Sarah and the other teammates were surrounding her now, watching as she groaned on the ground painfully, holding onto her arms.
“Okay, I take that as the end of today’s training,” the coach said, sighing. “(Y/N), are you okay? Can you walk?”
(Y/N) held her thumbs up, because she had worse injury than this before. Hell, the boxing fight she used to have with Kelce in their childhood was more painful. She sat up from the track, feeling the heat of the ground burning on her bottoms, and stretched her fingers. The pain coursed through her veins at the feeling, but kinda liked it.
“Come on, let’s get you home,” Sarah said, helping her up. She groaned when she finally stood on her two feet, feeling so painful all she wanted to do was lay back on the track, but she knew she had to go home.
She allowed Sarah helping her limp towards a black Mercedes, her eyes closed the whole time.
Okay, scratch the fight with Kelce. This one was more painful than ever.
“Can I stay at your house?” She blurted when Sarah drove out of the school gate. “I don’t feel like listening to my mom’s lecture about my leg.”
Sarah glanced at her from the rearview mirror, watching as she spread her leg out the whole backseat. The ice bag someone had gotten her was pressed against her calf, and she was sweating from the heat and trying to contain the pain.
“Yes, of course, that would be better,” Sarah said. She had other plans that evening, but helping (Y/N) overstepped all of them.
“So what’s up with you and John B?”
Sarah turned to look at her fully on her face, furrowing her eyebrows. “What do you know about John B?”
(Y/N) laughed, “The light’s green.” Just on cue, the car behind them horned at Sarah, and she quickly pushed on the pedal.
“How do you know about John B?” Sarah asked, biting her lips. If (Y/N) could find out, she couldn’t imagine what would Rafe do if he finds out.
“God, don’t be worried. I’m not going to tell anyone about this, okay? Just relax. I think it’s cute.”
Sarah’s worried expression softened, “You think so?”
“Yeah. At least you got to be with whoever you want. Some people can’t have that.”
Like her. Kelce would kill her and dump her body in the ocean for the sharks if he ever finds out how much she likes Rafe.
“You’ll find the one soon. How about that guy in your maths class?” The car turned to the right, nearing the destination.
“No. I’m not looking for anyone.”
There’s only one, but Sarah won’t like the answer.
The time was 8.23p.m. now, and (Y/N) had been in Sarah’s room for a total of 3 hours. After catching up on new gossips, watched a movie, did her English essay, she felt extremely dehydrated.
Sarah was sleeping peacefully beside her, being so tired after the practice and school, and (Y/N) didn’t feel like waking her up. She have been to The Camerons household, but that was only for Sarah’s birthday party a few years back.
She sighed, getting up from the bed to find the kitchen. The house was like a maze, and she wished they had some kind of a map to browse through.
Alas, she found the kitchen, her muscles screaming from all the wrong turns she took before. She knew where the plastic cups and plates were situated, having to help Sarah get them during her birthday party, so she didn’t have any trouble getting some.
She drank the cold water quickly, feeling the liquid sloshing down her throat. The feeling was so, so good that she wished she could go through it again.
“I do not know where your sister is, Kelce,” a voice sighed not far from the kitchen. “I told you you shouldn’t bring that girl home and just drive (Y/N) home yourself.”
The voice, unmistakably Rafe, was getting nearer and nearer. (Y/N)’s eyes widened, trying to find an empty space to hide in, but there were none. She panicked, still looking for a way out that she didn’t notice the tall figure behind her.
“Oh. Found you.”
His hair was dishevelled and wet, his chest heaving and he was shirtless.
What a nice way to bump onto each other.
“Take a picture,” he started, shutting his phone off and placing them in his shorts. “It’ll last longer that way.”
Now we’re talking about the new Rafe.
(Y/N) scoffed, pushing him away and making a disgusted face at his sweat sticking on her arms. “I’m here for Sarah.”
“Why? Did she die or something?”
God. He really is insufferable.
She made to push him away to return to Sarah’s room, only for him to grab her by her waist.
“Move.” Her tone was stern, but her stomach was flipping wildly. She tried to not look so bothered, but failed miserably.
Rafe seemed to notice her behaviour because he didn’t let go of her. “Come on, where’s the fun in that?”
She was on the same level as his neck now, and he could still smell his expensive cologne even after he swam in the swimming pool. She sighed, placing her hands against his chest.
“Move.”
Rafe laughed, putting his hands up in defeat, and went to grab the same glass she was drinking from. He refilled the glass and downed the content, and (Y/N) had to look away from the innocent move.
Maybe he was just saving water by not using a different cup.
“Do you need help to return to Sarah’s room or something?”
“No, I’m fine,” she refused, and made sure he could see her fake annoyed expression before she returned to the hall she came from. But there were 2 halls now, and she completely forgot which one she had been before.
“Really?” Rafe stood beside her, and she looked up to his amused face. “Because you’re in the wrong hall. It’s the other exit of the kitchen, darling.”
. . .
Why couldn’t she not see his face every single day?
It was truly troubling her, to see that boy everyday, because she couldn’t think properly every time.
The lights from the stadium blared widely, and the deafening screaming coming from both teams’ supporters rang throughout the whole field. (Y/N) was sure the whole island could hear them too.
Two things happened earlier than evening. Number one, her skirt wasn’t completely dried after being sent off to the laundry for a week, and her hair wasn’t just cooperating.
So here she was; in a shorter uniform skirt, her hair hung up into a ponytail with lots of hairspray. She wished for nothing but to be all cuddled up with her blanket in her room.
“You’re okay?” Sarah asked. She fixed (Y/N)’s lips gently, getting the lipstick and lipliner even, and gave her a kiss on the cheeks. “Don’t worry about the skirt. It looks normal.”
For a little girl.
(Y/N) sighed and involuntarily pulled down the hem of her skirt. Ten minutes from the game now, and she was nervous she would flash everyone on the school compound.
In the locker room, Rafe was sitting right next to Kelce as his best friend prayed for a win tonight. He was never that religious, and he didn’t feel the need to mutter a prayer to anyone. But tonight, he listened intently to whatever Kelce was saying because he needed to win this cup more than anything in the world.
“You’re okay?” The coach asked, patting him on the shoulder.
“Yeah. Just nervous.”
“Don’t be, you’re the Star Player. Right?”
The Star Player.
Rafe gave him a smile, and went back to his praying.
When he first entered the field to meet the rival team, his eyes couldn’t help but scanned the bleachers to find his dad. Ward wasn’t there, but Rose and Wheezie were cheering for him.
Of course.
He sighed, and went straight to the middle of the field. It’s funny how everyone was there to support him, Rafe, the Star Player, the jock, the whatever else people were saying about him.
He just wanted Ward to see him.
“Come on, man, it’s fine,” Topper said, patting his back. “He’ll come later.”
Even his friends could see how miserable he was feeling.
The first match of the game went smoothly; he scored a try goal, everyone was cheering loudly, but it was just then that one of the opponents came knocking Rafe by his side.
Rafe fell to the ground with a loud thud, earning so many gasps from the stand.
“What the fuck?!” Topper pushed whoever responsible for his fall, and the sound of a whistle rang throughout the air. “He pushed him for nothing! You saw it, fuck!”
Rafe groaned on the ground, clutching onto his arms, and he tried to spread his fingers, but couldn’t. His other teammates were surrounding him now, trying to get a good look of him, all while Topper and Kelce and another friend of his went off to the referee.
Rafe put his other hand up, trying to sit up. “I’m fine, I’m fine! Move!”
The other members scattered away, sighing in relief when Rafe came back to his legs. The referee, still getting yelled at by Topper, shook his head at something he said, and before anyone could process what happened, Topper tackled the opponent who had pushed Rafe down to the ground.
Kelce pulled Topper away after a few long seconds, telling him to stop. But one thing about Topper is that he just won’t stop.
“Stupid fuck!” He yelled, throwing another punch.
“Topper, stop, they’re going to throw you off the field!” Kelce yelled. Finally, he separated them away after the opponent’s friend pulled his injured friend away.
The referee, expectedly, pulled a red card to Topper, earning a groan coming from their coach and the stand. Rafe cursed, knowing that Topper’s one of their strongest member. He watched as Topper tried to argue with the referee, but it was no use.
“It’s okay,” Kelce said, patting his back as he made his way back to the bench. “Relax, bro, okay?” Topper calmed down after the coach said something to him, but Rafe could clearly see the distress written on his face.
“You’re okay?” Kelce asked, pointing to his arms.
Rafe could move his muscles now though he could feel the sharp pain from doing so. But he was too content on winning this game.
(Y/N) watched as the second match unfold, her teeth biting into her lips in fear. She didn’t feel like having the next week full of gloomy students and disappointed teachers, so she wanted the cup as much as everyone else.
Rafe was fast, throwing the ball smoothly back and forth with Kelce and his other friends, but it was apparent that the Star Player wasn’t feeling like himself.
It might be the arm, or the fact that Ward Cameron was too busy with his work to see his son playing.
37 minutes had passed, and the other team was leading. They only had 3 minutes left, and with the team being so drained out and their captain with a broken arm, it was clear who was winning.
The whistle blared through the field again, noting the end of the match. As the other team supporters cheered happily the other side of the stands muttered silently to each other about the game.
(Y/N) watched as Rafe yelled something at his teammates angrily before storming off to the locker room. He winced in pain, holding his arm for support, and ignored every calls from his friends as he made his way to the empty room.
Looking around quickly, she muttered a ‘be right back’ to Sarah, and quickly followed Rafe into the locker room. She wanted to see if he was okay, and if he needed help with his arm.
In truth, she just wanted to be there for him.
“Hey,” she slowly said, and Rafe’s head perked up to see her before he looked down to the ground again.
“What do you want?”
She felt a struck of pain across her heart at his tone, but decided against it. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I was just trying to see if you need anything,” she said, and when his eyes finally looked up to her again, she unconsciously pulled her skirt down again.
“Yeah? I don’t need anything. Go!”
“Wow, you’re a dick,” she scoffed, and before Rafe could mutter anything back, she exited the locker room and straight to the cheer team. She felt a mixture of anger and embarrassment all at once, because God, Rafe Cameron did not just yell at her for trying to be nice.
She should’ve known better than to be ‘nice’ to him. He wasn’t the same 8 year old she met 10 years ago.
. . .
A week had passed from the game, and everything went back to normal.
Except for one person.
Rafe didn’t come to school the next Monday, not that (Y/N) wanted to see him after getting yelled at, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
He didn’t just broke his arm; his father also chose not to attend his game.
It was finally Friday, and (Y/N) was too happy to stay home and continue watching Love Island. Life is better when you are focused on someone else’s relationship other than yours.
She was rolling in her bed, casually smiling at the cheesy joke made by one of the contestant, and before she could hear the reply towards the joke, the doorbell blared throughout the house.
(Y/N) groaned, thinking how Kelce must’ve forgotten his keys again, and waited a few more minutes so that he would just leave her alone and go to that stupid prick, Rafe Cameron’s house.
But the doorbell rang again, and she had no choice but to open the door. She was all alone in the big house, having both her parents still working and her maids having the day off.
But when she opened the door, the boy standing before her was the last person she wanted to see.
“Hi,” Rafe said.
“Kelce’s not here,” she mumbled, and pushed the door close. Rafe’s quickly put his hands to block the door from closing, and (Y/N) pulled away after deciding not to crush his other only working hands.
“What?” She asked, in the same tone that he had given her in the locker room. She felt good when his eyebrows were raised.
“I’m here for you.”
“Why? Did I die or something?” Bingo.
“God, you’re impossible,” Rafe sighed. “Can I talk to you? Just us two?”
(Y/N) sighed, wanting to get this done, and opened the door wider to grant him into her home. (Y/N) closed the door and pressed her back against it, crossing her arms.
“Okay. Talk.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” He said. “I was just so angry with everything. I was pushed and Topper received a red card because of me—”
“You didn’t do anything, Rafe.”
“Yeah, but he was just trying to protect me. And, and I was just so mad at myself because I couldn’t play properly like I usually play. I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean it.”
(Y/N) sighed, “It’s okay. I’m over it.”
“Really?” He stepped closer, and this time, (Y/N) allowed him. “Thank you so much!”
He pulled her into a crushing hug, and before she could put her mind into it, he lifted her up and spin her around.
“Okay, okay, now you’re just pushing it,” she groaned, hitting him on his chest. “Put me down, Rafe, I swear to god.”
Rafe put her down, his face shining happily. They were close again, like that time in the lake, and (Y/N) didn’t feel like pushing him away again.
Because maybe, that 8 year old him was somewhere in there.
“Uh—” he looked away, scratching the back of his head. “Do you wanna. . . watch Netflix?”
(Y/N) cleared her throat, “I was watching Love Island. Wanna watch with me?”
Rafe nodded, anything to get closer with this girl, and followed her upstairs to her room. The first time he entered her room was 9 years ago, and it was only because Topper and Kelce had pranked him into thinking that her room was the gaming room.
“What are you doing?” The girl before him yelled, and before he could explain how he was lied to, she threw a pink hairbrush at him. He groaned from the pain, rubbing his head.
“I’m sorry, I thought this was the gaming room!”
“Out!” She yelled, and he quickly obliged.
Her room was still pink, but it was now filled with so many books, clothes and makeups instead of the dollhouse and toys he saw a few years ago.
“Is this the pink hairbrush you threw at me?” He laughed, holding the pink tool. (Y/N) snatched the hairbrush, embarrassed, and quickly stuffed them into the drawers.
He placed himself beside her on her bed, watching her as she resumed the video. He focused on the show, trying to find at least something interesting from the show, but there was nothing.
2 episodes later, he was too into the show that he pressed on the stop button before they could continue on the next episode.
“I wish they would just communicate,” he said. “Like the whole show’s pointless. They didn’t try to talk to each other about their problems.”
“Yeah, that’s what makes the show interesting, Rafe,” she said as if that was a fact, “And besides, if they communicate, everyone will win the show.”
“Then that’s just good. A win-win situation.”
“You don’t get it,” she groaned, looking into his face. “There’s no use in fighting with you about this.”
She pressed on the resume button again, and instantly, Rafe pressed on the stop button.
“Rafe, I will—”
“You still haven’t apologised for throwing the hairbrush at me.”
She widened her eyes, “That was 9 years ago.”
“And?”
“Fine,” she placed her laptop aside, and turned to fully look him in the face. “Sorry.”
“Not sincere enough.”
She groaned, “Rafe, I am terribly sorry for throwing my pink hairbrush at you. I am so sorry that it hit your face and be the reason why you’re still holding vengeance at someone.”
“I’m not talking about that kind of sorry.”
“Fuck, you’re annoying,” she said. “I’m not going to bow down to you or anything.”
“Just a kiss.”
She looked at him back, her heart stopping at his words. “No.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because you’re Rafe?”
“Rafe? Okay, fine. I’m not Rafe. I’m Rafael.”
“Okay, it’s still a no. You’re Kelce’s best friend.”
“Didn’t you kiss Topper last year?”
“That was a dare—” she sighed. “And it didn’t mean anything.”
“Exactly. This won’t mean anything. This is just a sorry.”
It would mean everything to her to place her lips against his.
“This is sexual harassment.”
“Not if you want it too,” he said, and leaned closer to her. “And you do want it, right? I can see it in your eyes.”
She didn’t know why God would put her and Rafe in this damn position over and over again, because it wasn’t helping her to get over him.
She looked down to his lips, and how it was so inviting, and she wanted more than anything to kiss him, to finally give herself to him, but she was afraid.
“Rafe—”
“Shut up,” he cut her off, and pressed himself against her. Their kiss was slow and passionate, none like neither (Y/N) or Rafe had experienced before. Her hands found themselves wrapping around Rafe’s neck, pulling him closer.
He pulled away, grinning. “I thought you didn’t want this.”
“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes, and pulled him in for another kiss again.
He pushed her down onto the bed gently, still kissing her, and his hands were roaming down her body. She was so, so perfect and every time he saw her, he would have to look away to stop the unwanted thoughts forming in his head.
During the game last Friday, he had to pinch himself from staring at her legs in that goddamn skirt for too long.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered, and she hummed in response before pushing him over so she could take control. She sat on top of him, grinning widely. She was in heaven; seeing him all worked up under her with his chest heaving.
“You would be surprised at the amount of times I imagined myself on top of you like this,” she said, placing her hands flat on top of his chest.
Rafe grinned back, trying to contain his feelings. “Yeah? Wanna show what else you’ve been imagining?”
She leaned closer, making sure to brush her bottom against him and hearing his soft groans. She placed a soft kiss against his cheek, and whispered into his ear.
“Would rather have you show what you’ve been dreaming of me.”
Rafe licked his lips, loving this side of her, and he wanted more than anything to make her his. She looked so innocent sitting there on top of him, smiling and biting her lips.
Before he could touch her in ways he never did to a girl before, a voice rang from outside the room.
“(Y/N)? Have you seen Rafe? I saw his car outside,” the voice said. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed. “You’re okay? I’m coming in, okay?”
“No, no, wait!” (Y/N) shouted, scrambling from her position on top of Rafe as he quickly pulled her up, but it was too late.
Kelce saw them in the midst of trying to get away, with his sister’s leg on one side of his best friend and his best friend’s hands still around his sister’s waist.
“What. The. Fuck.”
-
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wtfevenismypage · 4 years
Text
Curiosity Killed The Cat
request: request. i’m not sure if you’re comfortable with writing it but it’s worth a try the team is always teasing spencer saying “he’s definitely a virgin” and he’s like “wtf no i’m not” one day they’re like ok well then y/n can see for herself, y/n is like “😳i didn’t sign up for this” and long story short they come back to the bau and the team is like “ ok soooo?” and y/n is like zoning out mumbling “you were wrong”
Warnings: SMUT (Penetration, oral (female recieving), spanking, over-stimulation, choking, degrading kink)
A/N: YO SHIT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, I am going to start publishing fics again, but updates will be very very slow. They’ll increase eventually, but for now, they are slow. Love you all!
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The night began at work. A late night with the team at the office, stacks of files mounted on all of your desks and you’re all gathered around to keep each other awake.
“Ugh. This is too much work. Seriously. Can’t killers ever take a break?”
You whine, spinning in the swivel chair and holding a file in the air. Morgan chuckles, staring at his own file before speaking.
“I need a drink after this.”
“You and me both Morgs.”
“I told you to stop calling me that Girly.”
You chuckle, stopping your spinning and standing up to stretch. It feels nearly impossible to stay awake. Not necessarily because you’re tired, but you’ve been staring at similar files all day and it’s getting boring and tiring.
 “I’ll do refills on coffee. Gimme your mugs.”
You say, letting them pile different sizes of cups and mugs in your arms. You saunter over to the coffee machine and set them on the counter.
You set the pot for a lot of coffee and quickly dash to Hotch’s office, where him and Rossi are.
“Yo, I’m making coffee, y’all need refills?”
They shake their heads and you shrug, returning to the coffee machine and pouring the coffee in the mugs before adding cream and sugar.
“How much sugar tonight Reid?”
You ask, turning to the tall doctor with a smirk. Luckily, you and your team are the only people left in the bullpen so you can be as loud as you want.
“A lot.”
You snort, grabbing the box of sugar and piling it in, almost emptying it before putting it on the shelf and making a few trips to distribute the coffee.
“Here you are Spencer, sugar with some coffee on the side.”
You chuckle, sitting in your chair again and picking a new file up, only to find that this was the last file.
“Oh. Anyone else wanna give me files? I’m on my last one.”
Morgan and Emily immediately run up to you with files, dropping them on your desk and thanking you. It made you laugh, watching smiles grown on their faces.
“Okay team. We’re almost finished. Just a little bit more now.”
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(SEXUAL THEMES BEYOND THIS POINT)
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A few hours later you, Spencer, Rossi, and Hotch are finished with your stacks, waiting for the other three with Penelope, discussing bars to go to.
“Oooo there’s a new one downtown, we should go there.”
“Can you guys hold back your alcohol talk until tonight please? I just wanna get out of here fast and maybe get lucky tonight.”
Emily pleads, making you and the other women go “oooo” while the men groan.
“Oh boy you are right Em. I haven’t gotten laid in so long. Too long.”
You say, leaning back in your chair and looking at a flabbergasted Penelope.
“How long?”
She asks, staring at you in disbelief. You were a very beautiful woman (Don’t you fucking dare say otherwise) so people often assumed you had sex often. You weren’t private about it either. So what if people judged you? Sex is natural and anyone who says otherwise is selling something.
“Since my first time in middle school. I had a delusion that sex was gonna be this amazing thing and then it was actually terrible. I gave up all hope and never slept with anyone ever again. So you know, it is what it is.”
Everyone looked at you in shock, confused as to how you went your whole life without sex.
“Wait really?”
Morgan questions, his attention dropping from the files to you in an instant. Spencer simply stared at you in disbelief, his expression suddenly making you nervous.
“Y-yeah. I haven't had sex since middle school. It isn’t a big deal.”
You defend, but Penelope wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.
“Oh honey I’m definitely finding you someone to take home.”
“Hey, at least you had your first time, unlike pretty boy over here.”
Morgan teases, messing with Spencer’s hair. Spencer was often teased for being a virgin, but none of you knew what to believe. He said he wasn’t, but refused to tell even Morgan about any of his times.
“How many times do I have to tell you guys, I’m not a virgin!”
“Then tell us about one time.”
Morgan says, a wide smirk on his face at the disheveled state of the genius doctor. Poor Reid just wanted to be left alone but Morgan will not let this go.
“Morgan. Not all of us are public about our sex lives like you bud. Sometimes I wish you were as secretive as Reid. None of us want to hear about how you “got it on”.”
Morgan grimaces, and Spencer looks to you thankfully. 
“C’mon Y/N, you aren’t even a little curious?”
Emily asks from her desk, finally finishing up the last file with JJ. You shrug, playing with your hair briefly.
“Of course I’m super curious, but, unlike you lust goblins, I stand with Hotch and Rossi and don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”
Various groans come from the team as you fist-bump Hotch and Rossi, laughing at their defeat.
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When Morgan finally finishes, you all head to the new bar downtown, smiling at the flashing lights of the dance floor and immediately going to a small table with the rest of the team.
“Oh hells yes! This place is already fun!”
Penelope squeals, waving a worker over to get food. Morgan sits next to you, Emily on your other side and Spencer is next to Morgan and Hotch. 
“Alright my baby’s we are partying until Y/N gets lucky!”
You chuckle at Penelope’s words, raising a glass of water to your lips and taking a big swig of it before looking around. The people in there were definitely attractive, but your mind never swayed from a certain genius.
You meant it when you said you were curious, your mind had always wandered to certain images when you went to sleep, constantly imagining what he would be like.
You’re mind was so easily destroyed by him. All of your thoughts contorted by him. To the point where you can’t imagine sleeping with any of these other people, but you’re scared to ruin your friendship with him by trying to sleep with him.
“Ah guys. I’m fine. I don’t want to sleep with someone I don’t know.”
Morgan groans, nudging your side and making you laugh.
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A few hours later, Spencer has abandoned ship and went to the bathroom, leaving you alone with the rest of the team as you eat some wings.
“Oh my god I know how to figure out if Reid’s a virgin or not!”
Penelope shouts, you look at her excited face, just smirking as she squeals.
“And what is your plan?”
“One of us hooks up with him!”
You all choke on your food and drinks, staring at her in shock.
“I’m sorry what? Did you just say-”
“Actually that’s not a bad idea.”
Hotch cuts you off. You turn to his smirking face in shock. Never in a million years would you have thought that Aaron Hotchner thought one of you sleeping with Reid is a good idea.
“Hotch! Wouldn’t that like, mess with work or something?”
He shrugs, turning to you and smirking.
“What can I say? I’m curious too.”
You sigh, chuckling a bit and shaking your head.
“I say Y/N does it.”
“What?”
“Yeah! Y/N is single and hasn’t gotten laid in a while, it’s perfect!”
“Guys no I-”
“Oh my god you’re right! Plus there’s plenty of sexual tension between the two of them.”
You sigh, knowing they won’t let up until this happens. When the team wants something, they make it happen.
“Okay guys, I didn’t sign up for this, I’m not your test dummy.”
You say, putting your wings down on the plate in front of you and looking around at them all.
“Please girly? Pretty please?”
Morgan begs, clutching your hand tightly and shaking it up and down like a child who wants a toy.
“Y/N, I will make sure you get a raise in your paycheck.”
You stop and think about it for a second.
It could ruin your relationship with him forever, then again, he’s the type to forgive and forget when it comes to his friends.
And if it did work out, then things could be awkward between the two of you for a long time, or worse, he’d regret it. And like all the things he regrets, he’d ignore you until you disappeared.
And the worst you can think of, you take his virginity. Not someone he loves, not his girlfriend or wife, you. His bestfriend and co-worker. 
But still, just that small percentage that everything might go completely right and you might even get a second time with him makes it feels like it might be worth it.
“Okay fine. But I don’t want a raise. If I’m doing this it’s because I want to.”
They all cheer and you just smile, taking a swig of beer before motioning for Morgan to switch seats with you so that when Spencer comes back he’ll be next to you.
Within a few minutes Spencer returns and you feel a heat travel up your neck as you look at him. He turned to you and smiled, sending shivers up your spine as you smiled back.
“Why’d you switch places?”
He asks, you turn to Morgan for help, pleading him to come up with a fake story.
“Emily kept poking her so she told me to switch.”
He says, you practically glare daggers at him, but you go with it, turning back to Spencer and nodding with a smile.
“Yep, so now, you are stuck with me.”
You joke, trying to ease the dusty pink on your cheeks, and nudge him gently in the arm.
In a few minutes you muster up the courage to let your hand travel off of the counter and onto Spencer’s thigh, feeling your entire face go crimson at the feeling of the hard muscle.
He choked on his water briefly before looking at you, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your red face. You were trying to hide any emotion you felt out of embarrassment. 
He didn’t say anything though, you’re hand felt warm against the cool breeze of the bar, and he wasn’t opposed to your touch whatsoever.
Everyone continued talking and laughing as your hand inched upwards, and you could feel his body tense up every once in a while, and every time he did, you paused, giving him a moment to push your hand away or tell you to stop, but he didn’t. Not even when you began massaging and squeezing the muscle in your hands.
In fact, he at some point grabbed your hand and positioned it right above his own cock. You weren’t touching it yet, just hovering in slight fear.
He wants this.
You thought before slowly lowering your hand, your eyes widening at the feeling of his semi hard and fairly large cock. What the hell were you getting yourself into?
You glance at him quickly, only to find him staring straight back at you with lust lidded eyes. They were intimidating, almost scary. Usually you would have hated to be on the receiving end of this glare, but in this context, it made you feel like a match had been lit inside of you and you were just left there with a lit match inside of you.
The moment you squeezed your hands just slightly, he abruptly stood up, your hand falling from his crotch. Everyone looks at him in shock as he yanks you up.
“I need to talk to you.”
Is all he says before dragging you away. You only had a split second to turn and see the teams faces, but they were all pretty much the same. 
A shit eating smile with wiggling eyebrows.
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From the moment you were yanked into the private room with Spencer, you were super nervous. It had been years, you were inexperienced. What if he didn’t like it? What if he left because you were bad at it?
He seemed to notice your panicked state and sat you down on the bed, crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his.
“Hey, we don’t have to do this. As much as I would love to prove to you that I really am not a virgin, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. But if you say yes, I will pillage your body to the point that you can’t walk next week.”
Well shit, now you were fully convinced and super turned on. You had thought he was vanilla, or maybe even a bottom, but oh wow you were so wrong.
“Do it.”
Those were the only two words needed for Spencer Reid to pounce, and your plane of vision was knocked over, now laying on your back as he traps you under his body. 
His lips are everywhere. They’re on yours at first, but they travel to your jaw, your neck, and his lengthy fingers work at the buttons on your dress shirt rapidly. 
“Shit Spencer...”
You whine out as he works his hands across your body. They feel like fire against your skin. His lips are wet and messy, kissing and marking your neck for the world to see.
You grip his shirt, tugging at it and opening your mouth to speak, but a moan slips out instead. You shut your eyes in embarrassment as you feel his lips curl upwards on your collarbone, the suckling feeling feeling so warm and tingly.
“What is it baby? You want me to take my shirt off? huh?”
You nod eagerly, chest rising and falling quickly as he raises his body off of yours, and you open your heavy eyes to see him strip off his shirt. He isn’t muscly, but he’s perfect, he looks perfect.
“What do you want baby?”
You stumble over your words, your mind already fuzzy somehow by just his lips.
“You. I want you. Please Spencer I want you.”
 You beg, your hands travelling up his torso and feeling his soft skin. He leans down again, towering over you and smashing his lips on your while his hands work on getting your pants off.
His lips were safe, careful. Not aggressive, and his tongue that tasted the inside of your mouth was warm and loving, savoring your taste as you whined into his.
He was smiling so widely against your skin, his pride booming at the way you reacted to his touch. He never once thought he could get you to react like this.
“You just wanted to see if I was a virgin huh? You curious?”
You nod and shake your head, confused on why you were doing this as well. You wanted this so much it almost hurt, you’ve wanted this since day one. You were also really curious as well though.
“You know what they say.”
He leans into your ear, kissing your neck and biting your ear.
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
You felt his fingers rub at your clothed pussy, your black cloth panties preventing him from fucking you with his fingers. His fingers rub against your clit, the cotton creating friction on it as well.
 “Please Spencer! Please please please!”
You beg, feeling his breath land on your cold skin in a way that felt so raw and rigid. He tugs at your panties, freeing your cunt as a finger rubs against your clit, the bundle of nerves jolting you up.
A loud moan escapes your lips as he continues circling your clit with his long fingers, His lips kissing your open ones.
Two fingers probe into you, scissoring themselves inside of you. You groan into his mouth as they curl upwards into your wet cunt.
“Shit!”
He moves his head between your thighs, licking a wet stripe up your clit, flicking it around as you moan at the sensitive feeling. It feels like electricity lighting up the sensitive nub.
A pressure builds between your legs, a spring coiling in your stomach as he suckles on your clit, fucking you fast with his fingers.
“Spencer! I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum!”
“Do it.”
It hits you like a fiery clap of thunder, the feeling so extreme and hot it almost makes you scream and you can only hope no one heard you over the music outside.
Your breathing is labored as your high dies down, but Spencer doesn’t let up, he flips you over onto your stomach, dragging you to your knees by your hips. 
“Wha-”
You get cut off by your own moan of pain, the tip of his cock slowly being pressed into your tight and wet cunt.
“It’ll get better baby, I’ll go slow, I promise. Just tell me when you want me to go, and when you want me to stop. Okay?”
You nod against the pillow under your face, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. A hand lands on your ass, making you yelp at the rough feeling.
“Words baby.”
You moan, palming the sheets with your fists as he pulls out completely, leaving you to feel empty.
“Okay! Please Spencer! Please I need you!”
You could practically feel his pride rolling off of him as he pushes into your sex slowly, filling you up fully. 
It’s a stinging feeling, as if you were being torn apart. But he waits, he let’s you adjust to his girthy size before moving. He really was gentle. You hadn’t expected him to be rough exactly, but he was shockingly gentle and patient.
Eventually, you got used to the feeling, it felt so satisfying as well. The feeling of being so full and warm was so pleasuring, it sent little jolts of pleasure up your spine and out your mouth, making Spencer smirk.
“You’re so tight for me. You so curious you let me fuck you huh? So eager?”
You nod, burying your face into the pillows. You want him to move, to fuck you until you break, but words won’t come out, so you move your hips forwards, letting part of him slip out of you before moving him back into your dripping cunt.
A loud groan escapes both of your lips at the feeling, his hand lands on your ass again, reddening it before taking the hint and thrusting into you carefully.
“Oh... Holy crap!”
You moan out as he continues to clench your hips, surely leaving bruises tomorrow. His thrusts remained slow and deep, but it felt just right. He let his hands wander, travelling up and down your body.
His fingers find your bra, unclipping it and letting it fall off. Your breasts move to the rhythm of his thrusts.
“Faster... Please Spencer faster!”
“What’s that my little slut? You want more? You gonna be a greedy little slut?”
You could feel your cheeks become a dark crimson color, slightly embarrassed at the degrading language he was using, but you nod nonetheless, wanting him to pound into you shamelessly.
“Very well. What a dirty slut wants, she gets.”
His pace quickens suddenly, each thrust into you sharp and hitting into you just right. Loud moans escape both yours and Spencer’s lips, the room becoming sweaty and sticky quickly.
“This want you want you whore? You just want to be fucked like a cheap whore?”
Pointless babbles fall out of your mouth, quiet “Yes” and “I’m your cheap whore” being mumbled as he pounded into from behind. 
A gasp escapes your lips as he lands another smack to your ass, leaving a burning sensation that felt so damn pleasurable after the initial sting.
A familiar pressure builds up between your thighs again, Your legs trembling under the Thunderous feeling of your orgasm washing over your entire body.
You had thought that two orgasms would have been enough for him, but he doesn’t let up, even flipping you back over and thrusting into you harder. 
“S-Spencer!”
You gasp and squirm as his fingers find your sensitive and swollen clit, pinching and rubbing it with his thumb and index finger. It felt like a wave of nerves jolting every bone, your back arching off of the cushion underneath you.
He continues pounding into you mercilessly, admiring the way your tits bounce at his pace, the way you so desperately panted for mercy, but your body betrayed you.
If you really wanted him to get off of you, you would have made it much more clear, you would have been pushing him off more, but you were more just clutching him closer than anything, wriggling your body around.
You couldn’t form any words at this point, chasing after your third orgasm endlessly. You manage to spot the hand that isn’t abusing your clit snake its way up your body, playing and pinching your nipples briefly before wrapping itself around your neck. 
Soft squeezes are delivered to your throat, making you whimper and whine, your own hands reaching his wrist for support, feeling up the vein-y muscles.
“Spencer! Spencer I’m gonna... I’m gonna cum!”
You whimper out, his hand tightens around your throat and his fingers rub your clit faster and harder, abusing the already raw nerves. 
Everything felt so overwhelming. Your body was shaking aggressively each time he rubbed your swollen nub, and the feeling of him pounding into your wet cunt repeatedly slamming your sweet spot mercilessly and choking you out at the same time was so raw and powerful. 
It felt unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. And with a broken moan, you came all over his cock, clenching around him and pushing him over the edge as well. 
He came right inside of you, riding out his high while slowing the rubs delivered to your clit. Your insides were twitching like crazy around his sensitive cock, making him groan while watching your entire body shake.
Soon after you both came, he pulled out, letting his cum drip out of you and onto the bed, pulling your body to sit up.
“Well, did I pass your test?”
You lazily nod at his question. You panted heavily, trying to chase after your breath.
“Holy shit Spencer... That was... Wow.”
He chuckled, grabbing your clothes off of the floor and placing them next to you.
“Need help cleaning up?”
You shook your head, meeting his starstruck eyes for the first time since he choked you. They were so bright, so in awe. 
“Alright, well I’m gonna head home so I don’t have to face the others. See you at work?”
“See ya.”
-
-
-
-
-
Twenty minutes later, Spencer had gone home and you had finished getting all of his cum out of you, and now you were fully dressed, making your way back to the others in a shell shocked state of mind.
Everyone else was trying their hardest not to laugh at the sight of your shaky legs when you stumbled into your chair, red hickies all over your neck. You sat with a blank stare in your eyes, chugging your water.
“So?”
Morgan asked, knowing the answer already but just wanting to hear it anyways.
“You were wrong.”
You managed to mumble out. Everyone broke out laughing, even Hotch and Rossi.
You continued to eat your wings, The memory of what just happened stuck on replay in your brain.
PERMANENT TAGLIST(OPEN) @pinkdiamond1016 @spencer-reids-snow-white @sheepfather @eusuntgroot @libradolan
9K notes · View notes
jschllatt · 3 years
Text
𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 | 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦
Prompt: (Based off of the song I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys) Clay’s recent fame leads to a difficult decision to be made. Months later, he’s still regretful. You seem to be fine, so why can’t he move on, too? 
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, slight angst
Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader
Words: 2.5k
Masterlist
I spent a week on this and idk how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy <3
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Clay had been consumed by an overwhelming emptiness, his entire body hollow as the lack of your presence took its toll. 
Two months. Two devastating months had passed since he’d made a grave mistake, and now he was facing the agonous repercussions. He was a mess—anyone could see it. Between his long, disheveled hair, the light scruff that covered his face, and his bloodshot eyes, it was clear that Clay’s mind had been somewhere else. And it had been. Every passing second was a constant reminder of his solitude, causing the emptiness in his heart to evolve into a deep, incessant void, no longer inhabited by the happiness you had ingrained in him just months before. Why? Clay was overcome with a sense of deep regret as a result of your absence, feeling more alone than he ever had before. What could have possibly happened to make him feel this way? To make you leave? The answer was rather simple—he was just too damn busy. 
Clay had dedicated a considerable amount of time to his career, filming or streaming during the little free time he had. As he grew more popular, the time that you had spent in each other’s presence dwindled significantly, each day becoming lonelier than the last. Your interactions with him had shortened drastically—what were once long, lingering kisses placed on your forehead had devolved into chaste pecks, void of any true care or meaning. While you understood entirely that Clay’s career was important, you found yourself slowly losing hope.
You realized it one day as he was filming. 
It was a day no different from the last. Clay was recording a Manhunt video in his office, his voice shrill as he begged his friends for mercy. He was always loud when he filmed, and though you had chastised him for it countless times, he never listened. A loud sigh escaped your lips, going unheard, and you shifted your position on the couch, uncomfortable. Everyday seemed to be the same—each as lonely and frustrating as the last. Clay’s ignorance only fueled your apathy towards your relationship more, and you couldn’t help but find yourself growing hopeless at the thought of Clay being unaware of your unhappiness. Your troubled thoughts continued until a week had passed—a long, grueling week in which you had hopelessly tried to burrow your apathetic thoughts. But you couldn’t. You were giving up. The realization of your unhappiness made a pit grow in your stomach. You knew that you cared about Clay, but you couldn’t keep living the way you were—tired, unacknowledged, pitiful. 
And so, you let him go.
Clay was editing by the time you gathered the courage to face him, your stomach nauseous as you approached his office door. A light knock signaled your presence, and Clay muttered a quiet ‘come in,’ his voice raspy after hours of unuse. Blowing out a breath, you entered the room, your expression sullen upon noticing Clay’s inattentiveness. His eyes were still glued to his monitor, deeply focused on editing rather than your presence. You waited for a few seconds, silently hoping he would pay you any mind, but he didn’t. A wave of disappointment washed over you, though you managed to keep your voice steady as you declared, “We should break up.” Clay tensed in his seat, suddenly fixated on your words rather than the hours worth of footage he was editing. His chair turned with a quiet squeak as he swiveled around to face you. “What?” You sensed the subtle indignation of his tone as he squinted confusedly at your abrupt words. “We should break up.” You were much quieter this time, unable to meet his eyes as your words died silently in the tense air. You wrung your hands together anxiously as you leaned back on your heels, feeling awkward under Clay’s intense gaze. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and dealt with it. Maybe—
“Okay.” 
Immediately, your eyes flickered up to meet his, filled with a silent desperation as you searched his emerald irises for any indication of his intentions. Nothing. 
“Okay?”
Clay remained silent for a moment, his body stiff as he leaned back in his noisy chair. His expression was inscrutable as he stared at you blankly, trying to find the right words to say as he watched your face remain solemn at his confound brevity. His voice was level as he spoke, “I know I’ve been busy lately. We haven’t spent a lot of time together and that’s my fault. I could sit here and promise to change, but we both know I can’t—not right now.” Though you felt your heart shatter, you knew he was right. His job was too important, too time consuming.
A nod signaled your understanding and you turned to leave, feeling overwhelmingly dejected. 
“Hey.” You turned around to meet Clay’s eyes, noticing the hurt that was settled in them. “I hope you know I care about you.” You fought the urge to cry and shot him a watery smile, struggling to keep your tone unwavering as you agreed, “Me too.”
Two months had passed. 
Clay had been struggling. Everyone knew it—his friends, family, even his fans. It was clear that the once cheerful, happy man had become melancholy, suddenly depressed and unable to hide his unhappiness on camera. There had been numerous speculations of why this was, but only few knew the truth. Sapnap was among one of them and had been staying at Clay’s for the past month, creating content with his best friend while simultaneously making sure he was okay. Though two months had passed, Clay was still a mess. Perhaps it was because it hadn’t hit him that day. He had momentarily convinced himself that his career was more important than you, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true. He wanted so desperately to reach out to you, but assumed you had moved on—another incorrect belief of his. Clay cooped himself up in his home, never leaving unless it was urgent. He had sunken into a deep depression and the only remedy for his pain was you. You. He treated you so poorly. Everyday was a constant reminder of your absence and it was his fault. He could’ve made more time for you, or at least spent the free time he had with you. 
Remorseful thoughts ran through his head everyday, nearly driving himself crazy, and Sapnap knew he needed to get Clay out of the house. 
“There’s a party tonight, I think we should go.” Clay immediately denied the offer with a shake of his head, grumbling to himself. His best friend sighed indignantly, blowing out a breath of frustration before stating, “You don’t have a choice, you need to get out of the house.” Sapnap stood his ground, arms crossed as he stared at Clay sternly. A minute had passed and Clay, aware of his best friend’s stubbornness, gave in begrudgingly, “Fine, but only for an hour.” Sapnap grinned triumphantly, exiting the room with a smirk. He slammed the door behind him, heading back to his room while yelling, “And shave, for fuck sake.” Clay shook his head, cracking a small smile at his friend’s words.
The party was overwhelming to say the least. Bodies swarmed the crowded living room, reeking of alcohol and sweat. Music blared from a speaker, a shrill, nearly deafening melody that was sure to give Clay a headache by the end of the night. The room was buzzing with conversation, every word drowning out in the loud atmosphere. Almost immediately, Clay was passed a beer, and he lifted the bottle to his lips to take a swig. If Sapnap was going to make him stay here, he may as well take some edge off while doing so. A few minutes had passed and he finished the bottle, discarding it in a bin nearby. “I’m gonna go get another drink.” Clay muttered to Sapnap, who was talking loudly to a group of people he’d recognized. His best friend patted his back in response, chuckling as he gave him a playful shove towards the kitchen. Stumbling through the drunken crowd, Clay soon broke free as he neared his destination. He grabbed a beer, opening it skillfully off of the edge of a table, and turned around wordlessly. Taking a big sip, he hoped to free his mind from thoughts of you. Though he wasn’t one to drink, especially when upset, Clay knew that, aside from you, alcohol was the only other solution to temporarily mask his pain. He’d already drank half before he warned himself to slow down, knowing that if he got too drunk, he’d probably do something he regretted. Turning around so he could rejoin Sapnap, Clay nearly dropped his drink on the floor, feeling his heart drop. 
His eyes met yours. And then, he heard the music. 
I wanna be your vacuum cleaner
Breathin’ in your dust.
Clay felt his breath hitch in his throat, noticing the surprise in your eyes as you stared at him, astonished. As he stood there, staring at you shamelessly, he regretted it—everything. He regretted how he neglected you, ignored you, prioritized all of the wrong things when the only right thing in his life was right in front of him: you. Memories flashed before his eyes, quick and familiar, yet saddening all the same. The way you smiled at him from across the room when he was filming, the way you held him when he was stressed, the way you spoke to him, softly, while he was streaming to check up on him. Everything.
I wanna be your Ford Cortina
I will never rust
You looked away, suddenly nervous, though the eye contact was all-too-familiar. You felt your heart begin to race as you processed every detail of Clay’s face—from his anxious expression to the dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked like a mess. But so did you. You mirrored most of his tired, dejected qualities because you, too, were hurting. 
If you like your coffee hot
Let me be your coffee pot
Snapping you out of your daze, you felt a tug on your arm. “Hey, you alright?” Your friend asked worriedly. Nodding briskly, you muttered a quiet ‘yeah’ and smiled in a poor attempt to sound convincing. Seconds passed, and you could still feel the intensity of Clay’s burning gaze as your friend tugged you through the crowd, handing you a drink in the process. You dared to look up, instantly locking eyes with Clay, and swallowed thickly. You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, not when he was looking at you like that—desperate, longing. 
You call the shots, babe
I just wanna be yours
Lifting up the red solo cup to your lips, you downed its contents quickly, eliciting a few laughs and impressed hollers from your friends. You were never the type to drink, but you felt that it was necessary, especially when you knew Clay was still staring at you intently. Downing another shot, you risked glancing up towards Clay, but he was gone. Suddenly anxious as a result of his absence, you surveyed the room. Nothing. “I’m gonna go get a drink.” You said before you could stop yourself, not giving your friends the chance to answer you before you ventured into the kitchen. You tried to dodge the swaying, drunken bodies as you made your way quickly into the room, frowning upon entry. Clay wasn’t there either. You sighed, frustrated, and grabbed a beer, struggling to open it. You nearly laughed at your incompetence, feeling sadly nostalgic despite the humor you found in your struggles—Clay had always opened your beers, then teased you for being incapable. You fought back an onslaught of tears at the memory and sighed deeply, leaning against the table with your head in your hands. 
Secrets I have held in my heart.
“Hey.” Your body jolted at the sound of his voice. Daring to turn around, you felt your chest constrict at the sight of him clutching your now-opened beer, a sad smile plastered on his tired features. 
Are harder to hide than I thought. 
“Hey.” You breathed. Clay passed the beer to your shaking hand, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed against yours. Chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously as he tried to find the right words to say, Clay admitted, “I’m sorry.” A few quiet moments passed, though they felt like an eternity, and you replied simply,  “Don’t be.” You tried to hide the tremor that shook your arm as you took another swig of your beer, noticing how Clay’s face fell in sudden disappointment. What? Did you say the wrong thing? You didn’t want Clay to feel guilty, to blame himself for your failed relationship though it was mostly his fault. Why? Because you cared about him. You could immediately sense the despair that washed over him. And, though you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the pure adrenaline from the moment, you hugged him. 
Maybe I just wanna be yours
I wanna be yours
I wanna be yours
Clay tensed at your touch, wondering if the beer had gotten to him or if this really was happening. It was. He soon wrapped his arms around your waist, grip purposeful as he tugged you into him. Your head rested against his chest, the steady thumping of his heartbeat in your ear far more of a melodic sound compared to any music you’d ever listened to.
Wanna be yours
Clay swayed the two of you softly, resting his chin atop your head. You clung to him tightly, shutting your eyes as he held you, gentle. “I missed you so much.” You admitted before your mind could even process it. Clay chuckled, lowering his head so his lips were close to your ear, “I missed you more, baby.” You tried to fight the grin that plastered itself on your face as you took in his words, squeezing his torso with such force you were sure he’d explode. Clay went to speak again, caressing your sides so gently you could barely feel it, before being interrupted. 
“Holy shit, there you are, dumbass!” 
Sapnap. 
Clay pulled away from you to glare at his best friend, trying to ignore the shit eating grin on Sapnap’s face as he glanced at you. “My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt...whatever the hell I just interrupted. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, but you clearly are.” Before either of you could respond, he left, shooting his friend a thumbs up before disappearing into the crowd. You couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction, noticing the slight rosiness Clay’s cheeks had suddenly sported, embarrassed. “Sorry about that, he…” Clay struggled to find the perfect word to describe his best friend, but trailed off. “Yeah.” You agreed, seemingly understanding what he meant despite his silence. Clay laughed, then. The sound was music to your ears, and when his smile faded, the two of you were serious again. Clay’s hand found refuge in yours as he began to speak, his face solemn as he confessed, “I lied. I can change. I will right now if you want me to—I’d do anything for you.” 
Wanna be yours
You smiled lovingly at the man, interlocking the fingers of his hand that wasn’t already occupied in yours, and pulled him closer to you, wanting him near. 
Wanna be yours
“Deal.”
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dottielovegood · 3 years
Text
ASMR - Chapter 5
Elriel fanfiction
About this fic:
Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)
_______________________________________
You can find chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here, chapter 3 here and chapter 4 here
Read this fic on AO3
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Elain Beautiful!
Elain’s message made Azriel blush. He even blushed the next day whenever he thought about it.
He had never been called “beautiful” before. Handsome? Yes. Sexy and hot? A few times
But beautiful? Never
He couldn’t stop thinking about the message. Nor could he stop thinking about the fact that she lived in Velaris. Had they ever passed each other on the street? Had he stood behind her in the line at the grocery store?
Had they breathed the same air without knowing it?
Azriel couldn’t help but think back to Rhys and Feyre’s wedding. She had been there, hadn’t she? That same day when he was sitting with Rhys in a suite before the ceremony, she had delivered flowers downstairs. If he had just left the room before the ceremony, he might have met her that day. He was certain that they hadn’t met, even though Nesta was certain that they must have at least seen each other. He knew in his heart that he could never have forgotten her face if he had seen it. He couldn’t stop thinking about her now, and he had only seen her on his screen.
Azriel imagined that she must be even more beautiful in real life.
And now, he could actually find out if that was the case.
He told himself that he didn’t change his usual morning route because he wanted to see her. He told himself that he was tired of running in the park and that a run along the river Sidra would be a nice change of pace. He told himself that he didn’t even think about the fact that Elain’s flower shop was located on River Street, looking out over the Sidra.
He told himself all these things, but deep down, he knew that he was lying. It felt stupid and idiotic to lie to yourself, but it made him feel a bit better. It made him feel a little less like a creep as he ran along the river.
It was a nice day out. You could tell that summer was turning into fall because of the crisp morning air and the changing colors of the leaves. Velaris was probably the most beautiful during fall, at least according to Azriel. He had always loved fall and always hated summer. He didn’t like the heat. His friend, Cassian, hated summer too because of his allergies. That’s why he and Nesta had opted for a fall wedding.
The city was quiet this early in the morning. Azriel enjoyed the quiet; he always had. He never worked out with music and he couldn’t understand why people wanted to blast stressful tunes in their ears while working out. For Azriel, running was a form of meditation. He was completely alone with his thought and he often felt as if he had his best ideas during his morning runs. Music would have bothered him.
He had mapped out a route along the Sidra that was approximately 5 kilometers long (he always ran 5 km in the morning). It just so happened that Elain’s store could be seen from this route. What a coincidence, he thought, as it came into view.
In between the lies he had told himself, he had also told himself that she would probably not be there this early. He just wanted to see the place where she worked, but she would most likely not even be there. It was less creepy if she wasn’t there, which is why he hadn’t walked by in the middle of the day. He didn’t want her to think that he was a stalker. He remembered what Nesta had said about her taste in men, and he was pretty sure that she would never look at him again if she thought that he was stalking her.
As he was nearing her shop, he felt his palms sweat and his heart race. Totally normal reactions to a workout, he told himself. And all of a sudden, he found himself across the street from her little shop. It was situated between a small café and a bookshop. The sign above the door was light pink, and swirly green letters read “WALLFLOWER”. That was an interesting name for a flower shop, Azriel thought. Then, he noticed that the lights were on and the door was slightly ajar. Azriel held his breath as he slowed his pace and looked through the window. At first, there was no sign of anyone in there. Then, a door in the back opened, and there she was. She had her hair down today, and she was wearing a dark blue dress over a white t-shirt. Her face was covered by the big bunch of flowers she was carrying. Azriel knew nothing about flowers, but he knew he hated these white and pink things for covering her face. Azriel pulled up his hood, hoping that she wouldn’t see him as he lingered on the other side of the street, hoping for just one look.
She bent over and put the flowers down just by the door. Her hair fell in front of her face and…
That’s when Azriel’s phone rang.
And for once in his life, the sound was on. He had no idea when he had un-muted it, but he could see Elain shift. Shit, she had heard his phone. The door was slightly open and there was no traffic right now which obviously meant that anyone within a 100-meter radius could hear it. And it did not help that someone, probably Cassian, had changed his ringtone to fucking Barbie Girl by Aqua.
Azriel quickly turned away from the shop and started running again. He didn’t even see where he was going as he fumbled in his pocket for his phone. “Fuck,” he let out as the female voice in his pocket sang about how fantastic it was to be plastic.
“What?” he answered, ready to rip apart the person that had called him.
“What has your knickers in a twist?” Rhys asked in a fake British accent.
“I’m running.”
“Yeah, I know. You always run at this time of the day. Creature of habit and all that.” Rhys sounded chipper. Who the fuck was this happy in the morning?
“What do you want? Didn’t you say that the meeting started at nine today?”
“Yes, Azriel. The meeting starts at nine, but I need you and Cassian to come in earlier. Like now. Where are you?”
“I’m by the Sidra, so it’ll probably take me ten minutes to reach the office if I run,” Azriel answered. “Is this urgent, or can I go home and change?”
“Why are you by the Sidra? You always run in the park?”
“Trying to get out of my comfort zone,” Azriel mumbled, hoping that Rhys would just let it go.
“Well, good for you. And yes, it’s urgent. You can shower here and I know that you keep extra clothes in your desk drawer. See you in ten minutes!”
Azriel groaned. He did not want an emergency meeting right now. He wanted to go home and drown in his shower from the sheer mortification he was feeling.
“Oh, Azriel!” Rhys almost shouted before Azriel could hang up. “Bring coffee.”
Azriel snorted. “I didn’t think you were allowed coffee.”
Azriel could hear the smile in his brother’s voice as he said, “just bring the fucking coffee, Az.”
20 minutes later, Azriel walked into the office with three cups of coffee and a few croissants.
“What’s the emergency?” Azriel asked as soon as he walked through the doors to Rhys’ office.
Cassian was already there, and Rhys had the biggest grin on his face. It made Azriel uncomfortable. Why was he grinning at half-past seven in the morning?
Azriel handed one cup each to Rhys and Cassian while taking one for himself. He didn’t take a seat. He just waited for Rhys to tell him why the hell he was here.
Cass took a sip from his cup and made a disgusted face.
“What the fuck is this?” he asked.
“De-caf, vanilla latte with extra foam.”
“Why? You know that I drink my coffee black.”
“Barbie girl,” was all Azriel said, and from the way Cassian’s face lit up, he could tell that it was, indeed, Cassian who had changed his ringtone.
“Oh, yeah,” Cassian grinned. “great song!”
Azriel rolled his eyes.
Rhys leaned against his desk and took a swig from his own cup. Azriel had not made a funny order for him, but he kind of wish he had. The stupid smile seemed to be permanently etched onto his face. Rhys let out a sound that sounded eerily like a moan.
“God, this tastes like heaven,” he sighed. Azriel liked his coffee as much as any other person, and he guessed that it would taste even better if you had gone without any caffeine for months, but this was still weird.
“Better than your wife?” Cass joked and wiggled his eyebrows.
Rhys shot him a death glare. “Don’t you dare speak about the mother of my future child like that!”
Azriel felt his jaw drop. Did he just say what Azriel thought he said?
He didn’t have time to ask before Rhys lit up again. “Feyre’s pregnant!” he basically shouted.
For a beat, Azriel and Cassian stared at him dumbfounded. Then, Cassian jumped from his chair, embracing Rhys.
“Damn! Finally! Congratulations, man,” he said and patted him hard on the back.
Azriel wasn’t much of a hugger, but even he embraced his brother. “Congrats!”
“How did you find out?” Cassian asked.
“Well, it was all very romantic. I made her breakfast this morning, and she looked at me as if I had put rat-poison in her porridge. Then she threw up. Actually, the first sign was definitely that her boobs got bigger, but she told me to shut up every time I mentioned it.”
“Didn’t need to know that,” Azriel muttered.
Rhys ignored him. “So she took a test, and there were definitely two little pink lines there.”
His entire face was a big smile now, and Azriel couldn’t help but smile too. He was so happy for Rhys and Feyre. They were going to be great parents.
“So, I wanted to tell you that you’re going to be uncles,” he announced.
Azriel and Cassian looked at each other. If Azriel wasn’t mistaken, he could see Cassian tear up.
“I’ll be the fun uncle,” Cass exclaimed as if anyone would ever question that.
Azriel took a seat next to Cassian as they continued talking for a while. Az couldn’t help but notice that Rhys seemed almost equally happy about the fact that he was now allowed to eat meat and drink coffee again.
“So, Rhys, just to be clear. You only called us in here this early to tell us that you were going to be a father? That couldn’t wait?”
“Obviously, it couldn’t wait,” Rhys answered matter of factly. “But no, that wasn’t the only reason. There’s a problem with the online subscriptions that I need you to look at.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I have no idea. That’s why I hired you.”
Azriel spent the entire morning sorting out the problem. When he was finally done, it was time for lunch. Since he hadn’t been able to go home and bring the lunch he had prepared, he had to venture out for food. He decided to go to one of his favorite places in town; a small Vietnamese place within walking distance to the office. He ordered Phở and decided to eat his lunch there since he was a bit tired of staring into his computer screen. He took a seat in the corner next to the windows looking out over the street and started a podcast on his phone as he dug into his noodle soup. It was delicious, as always, and he didn’t really pay attention to anything but the food and the podcast. This is why he didn’t notice that someone had sat down at his table until a female voice started speaking to him. He had just shoved some noodles into his mouth as he looked up to see who was talking to him, and his heart almost stopped.
It was her. Flower Girl ASMR. Elain.
Azriel had noodles hanging out of his mouth and his brain couldn’t decide if he should just push all of it into his mouth, or take a bite and let the rest fall into his bowl, so he just sat there; looking and feeling like a fool.
“Azriel,” Elain greeted him when his eyes met hers. His brain couldn’t comprehend that she was here, at one of his favorite restaurants, while he was listening to a true-crime podcast. Azriel quickly swallowed what was in his mouth and removed his headphones. He could feel himself blush.
“Elain,” he breathed, feeling warm and sweaty all of a sudden. “What are you doing here?”
She laughed. She had a lovely laugh. “Nice to see you too. Is it good?”
“What?”
“The food,” she gestured to the bowl, “is it good?”
“Yes, very.” Azriel didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected to see her here. He had actually not expected to ever hear from her again if she had seen him outside of her store this morning.
Elain looked around. “This place is really cute. I’ve never been here before, but my employees recommended it.”
That explained why she was there.
“Yeah, it’s the best Vietnamese food in town.”
“I’ll take your word for it. You seemed to really enjoy it.” She smiled at him, and he was suddenly very aware of the fact that she had seen him eat. He had no idea what he looked like when he ate, but he felt very self-conscious all of a sudden.
“So, you live in Velaris?” Azriel asked after a short stretch of silence.
She nodded. “Mhm. I moved here a few years ago and opened my shop. Speaking of, did I see you this morning?” She was eyeing him suspiciously.
Azriel felt himself go completely still. Fuck. She had seen him. His life was over. Mentally, he started to prepare to move away from Velaris. Maybe he should just move to Australia? Or maybe Siberia? Anywhere far, far away.
He felt himself shake his head in answer, hoping that she believed him.
She raised an eyebrow “Really?”
She looked down at her lap and he could hear her tap on her phone, and then Azriel’s phone, which was conveniently sitting on the table, was ringing.
Fucking Barbie Girl.
He had forgotten to put it on silent again. He was going to murder Cassian.
The screen lit up with her name, and he knew he was busted.
He expected her to tell him to never contact her again. He expected her to kick him under the table and call him a creep. And god, did he deserve it. But, to his surprise, she laughed.
“Interesting music choice. I wouldn’t have pegged as a 90’s euro-pop lover.”
“I’m not,” he muttered under his breath. “This is my friend’s idea of humor. I am going to kill him as soon as I get back to the office.”
“Please don’t. You’re too pretty to go to jail,” Elain joked, and Azriel felt himself blush - again.
He took a deep breath and decided to try to explain the situation. “About this morning... I was just doing my morning workout. I promise I was not stalking you.”
“I didn’t think you were stalking me. I mean, did you even know I lived in Velaris?”
Azriel was just about to answer when Elain’s name was called. She got up and picked up her food from the girl behind the register. She walked back to his table and held up the brown paper bag, “Well, I have to go. My employees need fuel.”
“It was really nice meeting you in real life, Elain. Sorry if I was weird,” Azriel apologized.
“Don’t apologize. I get it. I hate when people interrupt me when I eat. But when I saw you, I just felt like I had to say hi.”
Azriel smiled at her. “It was a welcome interruption. Enjoy your lunch!”
With a quick goodbye, she turned around and started to walk to the door. Azriel cursed himself. Why was he such a weirdo? Couldn’t he have been cool and mysterious? Why did he have to be some kind of awkward noodle-eating monster?
He was just about to drown himself in the remaining food in front of him when he saw Elain turn around and head for his table again.
“Would you like to do this again?” she asked, the question coming out quickly.
Azriel stared at her. “Do what?”
“See each other in real life.”
“Yes,” Azriel blurted out. “I would really like that.”
She gave him the sweetest smile and he felt like he was looking at the sun.
“Great! Are you free this Friday?”
Azriel didn’t tell her that he would make sure to be free any night she wanted to spend time with him.
Instead, he just said, “Yes, I’m free.”
“Good. I’ll text you.”
And with that, Elain exited the restaurant. Azriel was staring at his bowl of cold noodles, not feeling very hungry anymore. She had asked him out.
Elain, the prettiest girl alive, had asked him out.
If he had been a comic book character, he was certain that there would be small, pink hearts flying around his head.
She texted him later that night.
Elain It was lovely running into you today :) But damn that ringtone of yours! I’ve been singing Barbie Girl all day, haha!
Azriel Thank you for interrupting my lunch! Don’t tell anyone this, but I haven’t been able to get that stupid song out of my head either. But don’t worry, I was able to get my hands on my friend’s phone this afternoon and return the favor.
Elain Oooh! Which song did you pick?
Azriel Jizz in my pants by the Lonely Island.
Elain You’re evil! I love it!
Azriel So, for Friday. Would you be up for drinks?
Azriel wanted to suggest dinner, but drinks felt safer. If she thought that he was dull or weird, it would be easier for her to leave.
Elain Yes! That would be great. There is this new place that I’ve been dying to go to. It’s called Rita’s.
Azriel Rita’s it is! Shall we say at 8?
Elain It's a date! I’m really looking forward to it :)
Azriel Me too!
Azriel felt giddy. He felt like a teenager that had just been asked out by his crush. Or at least, he thought that this was the same feeling. He hadn’t really been asked out in High School. Elain had probably been popular, but he had been the emo-guy in the corner, listening to music nobody had ever heard.
However, the more he thought about Friday, the more nervous he became. What if he couldn’t find something interesting to talk about? What if she found him boring?
And worst of all; what the hell should he wear?
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lihikainanea · 3 years
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Did tiger and bill ever go through like a phase where tiger kind of had to get used to bill thinking of her? Like she wasn't really used to being someone's first choice, like someone thinking about what she might like or want. To have someone frankly just think of you. I'm sorry to be a bother. Just feeling kind of bad lately, and could use some sweet bill. Sorry again.
First of all boo, please don't ever be sorry for sliding into my DMs. I love hearing from you guys, especially if you're not doing that well. I'm all ears, and this blog is a safe space for everyone--so pull up a chair and stay awhile. I, and our two favourite idiots, would be nothing if it weren't for all the amazing asks that you guys send to me <3
Secondly, I love this train of thought because I think it is very, very true. And it probably started back at the beginning of their friendship, right? Yes, it did. Follow me down this rabbit hole.
Bill doesn't make a lot of new friends because since the whole fame thing, he has trouble trusting people--and Bill, by nature, is a caretaker. He's extremely nurturing. He provides. He takes care of those close to him, in one way or another. But he knows his own empathic side, he knows its limits and boundaries, and one of the worst things he can do for his own well being is care about too many people. Get involved with too many people. Bill is happiest amongst his close group of friends, people he knows he can trust, people he can cook dinner for and host movie nights for and fly halfway around the world when he has a premiere.
And tiger, for her part--my girl tiger, she has zero self-preservation skills. Like, none. And Bill is fascinated by that. He's fascinated by this little fireball who not only has no idea who he is, but who subsequently really couldn't give a shit once she found out. He's enamoured with this little scrappy ball of ire who is convinced not only that she can start a bar fight with everyone in the pub, but that she can legitimately win. Bill's never seen anything like it. And once you meet tiger, she's impossible not to love. Or at least, it's impossible not to be intrigued by her, and to want to know more.
But the thing is, that firecracker personality and the massive chip on her shoulder doesn't come from nowhere--tiger's been hurt a lot. And it's because she never goes for the good guys. For as much as Bill has an empath side, tiger has the self-destructive kind where she wants to fix people. And she always goes for the dudes who will take and take and take, the dudes who play rope a dope with her heart, and who leave her shattered. Tiger gives her soul away too easily, and she takes it as a challenge when she's tossed to the side by some guy who was never worth her time anyway. She tries to prove she's worthy.
But then in comes Bill--this big, wall-eyed, kind of freaky looking dude who seems nice and kind and is moderately soft spoken. And when they hang out, Bill starts showing a genuine interest--platonically, of course--but it's genuine. He asks what she does for a living. He asks if she likes it. He wants to know where she went to school, what she studied. Does she have any siblings? Because he has a lot, and he knows how tough big families can make you. When tiger can't decide if she wants the chilli fries or the chicken wings one night at a pub, Bill tells her to get both--and that's when she knew they'd be friends.
And it slowly but surely escalated from there--still all platonic at the beginning--but suddenly, Bill was asking her how she was getting home, if she needed a ride. He was asking her how her week was, when everyone got together on Friday--and if she had mentioned something big previously, a meeting or a presentation or something--he'd remember, and ask her how it went. If he left the bar early, he'd politely ask her if she could text him when she got home.
"Why?" she scoffed.
"Because somebody needs to look out for you," he answered honestly. Tiger, in true fashion, balked awkwardly.
And this is where her defence mechanism started to fly up. Because when you're not used to being cared for, when you're not used to genuinely mattering to someone or hell even just getting the attention of a truly good person--it's weird. It's awkward. It's scary as hell and requires a level of vulnerability that tiger isn't ready to let exist--because it would mean that she would have to admit to herself that she is worthy. That this is the norm, and that she deserves this. That she knowingly let herself settle for being treated like shit for so many years.
And tiger's first defence is always anger. So maybe she started getting real snippy with him, probably well into their friendship by this point--so Bill was cooking for her, and if he wasn’t then he was checking in to make sure she ate at least one vegetable that day. If she had a date, he would wait until she texted him that she was in for the night--whether that was at the guy’s place or hers. If she needed a ride home in the morning then he would pick her up, in all of her walk of shame glory--but he’d pick her up with a few Advil, some big sunglasses, a huge coffee. And he would absolutely make fun of her nefarious, ill-fated decisions but he’d always wait at least 12 hours before he dared.
But to go even further--you are absolutely right. Bill does put her first. Once she is solidified as his best friend, then there’s no going back--she comes first. And part of it is Bill really is legitimately concerned because tiger has no self preservation skills and he worries that if HE doesn’t concern himself over her, then tiger will just like...her reckless decisions will be her undoing. He must look after Little Human, because Little Human’s self-destructive streak is far too prevalent. He has left dates in the dust when she needed his help. He looks out for her in group settings, and intervenes if some idiot is getting too handsy with her. If he has a boys night that night but tiger calls crying because some idiot broke her heart, or crying because it’s shark week and she’s out of gummy bears--then Bill is there. In a heartbeat, he’s there. She comes first.
And I’ll bet it’s all very nice, but it also kind of has tiger seething. Because she’s not used to this kind of...care. The genuineness of it. And tiger can’t be vulnerable enough to admit that part of her likes it, part of her feels safe knowing that even in the wee hours of the morning, Bill is awake and waiting for her to let him know she got in safely. Part of her kind of likes this idea that someone is thinking of her, that someone prioritizes her. But it’s still tiger, so she also gets hella mad. And she seethes--for a long time, she seethes. Quietly. And then maybe it all just comes to a head one night when she goes over to Bill’s place after work and he has a crisp glass of white wine waiting for her, a change of clothes, even her favourite make up remover--the kind that doesn’t sting, because she has sensitive skin. And all of that pisses her off, but then she walks into the kitchen as he’s deftly cleaning and slicing mushrooms.
“How did it go?” he asks casually. Tiger plays dumb.
“How did what go?” she swigs her wine.
“The meeting with your boss today.”
“...Fine,” she mumbles, petulantly. Of course he’d remember that, even though she told him two weeks ago. 
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he offers kindly. Tiger sees an errant pile of green onions on his chopping board, and she eyes them wearily but somewhat triumphantly. Bill heads to the fridge, pulls out a bowl of salad, then he tosses the green onions in. Perfect, she thinks, and it gives her a weird sense of satisfaction. Mr. Nice Guy, Mr. Considerate, doesn’t even remember what she considers to be the most significant thing about her. That she hates green onions. She feels triumphant, renewed. Somewhat weirdly comforted to confirm that perhaps she doesn’t mean that much to him.
Until he heads back to the fridge, and pulls out another bowl of salad--one that he promptly dresses, salts and peppers, and tosses. One without green onions. One for her.
“Why do you do that?!” she explodes. Bill jumps in surprise.
“Do what?” he asks innocently, “This one has no green onions!”
“Exactly,” she continues, “Ugh, Bill. Just...why do you always...ugh, Bill!”
Bill is stunned, still holding his bowl of salad, trying to figure out what exactly is happening here.
“It’s too much,” tiger says, slamming her wine down, “All of it is too much.”
“What’s too much?”
“You! This. Why do you always just....think of everything?” she says, and she’s steadfastly working herself into a tizzy.
“Tiger...”
“How? How do you remember these things? How do you fucking remember that I had a meeting with my boss today, a meeting that I told you about two weeks ago? Why do you make a whole other bowl of salad for me, why do you remember that I hate green onions?”
“Because I care about you kid,” he shrugs.
Tiger is angry, but she’s also at a loss for words. Bill’s genuineness, his honesty, will do that. For as much as she struggles to be vulnerable. Bill shows that side of himself openly. She doesn’t even know why she’s so angry. Bill watches her for a minute, but she’s kind of just bug-eyed so he goes back to his cutting board and starts calmly chopping his little mushrooms again.
“I don’t like it,” she mutters after a long pause.
“Too bad,” he shrugs non-chalantly. Tiger glares at him.
“Too bad?” she seethes.
“Too bad,” he repeats.
“Stop it,” she says.
“No.”
“Bill, I mean it. Stop always trying to--”
“No.”
“I’m not finished,” she stamps her foot, “Stop being such--”
“No.” he says again, “Tiger, this is what I do.This is how I am. I care about the people that matter to me.”
“Well I don’t ma--”
“Yes you do. You matter to me. So I suggest you put on your big girl panties, and fucking deal with it,” he says. And that’s final. Tiger is taken aback at his tone, at the way his face suddenly got serious--but then in a heartbeat, it’s relaxed again.
“Now, do you want mustard on your burger, or ketchup?” he asks. Tiger is petulantly silent, glaring at him.
“Tiger.” he warns, holding up the hamburger bun.
“Shouldn’t you already know?” she huffs in annoyance, going to the fridge and grabbing the wine. She swigs it right from the bottle as she boosts herself up on the kitchen counter. Bill goes to the fridge and grabs the mayo--her favourite--putting a thick schmear on the bun.
“God, get fucked asshole,” she mutters. Bill just grabs her face, plants a noisy kiss on her cheek as she shrieks and swats him.
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jabbagabba · 4 years
Text
La La Land
WARNING ⚠️
Do not read if you haven’t watched WandaVison, while this isn’t fully cannon story based, it still has potential spoilers and just general references. Read at own risk!
Heavy angst, the loss of a parent, Tony Stark died ya’ll, alcoholism mentioned briefly, also disassociation is talked about and happens to reader so be warned, if you are struggling with mental illness and feel like this may trigger you then please do not read. Grief is a hard thing and this is going to be very heavy, I’ll try to make sure to include all warnings and triggers but please let me know if I forgot anything.
———
Prologue
The pain of losing a parent is one you were familiar with.
That ache of realising you’d never meet your mother was something that had slowly chipped away at you from the moment the first breath of life entered your lungs. Her name was Loren; a twenty something journalist Tony had met at one of his many parties. You had heard the same four or so stories growing up, Tony’s words slightly slurred as he giggled along to the same old jokes she told the night they met.
“I wasn’t looking to settle down, ya know?” He’d say, taking a final swig as the mood shifted. “But, my God. She made me wanna propose that night.”
You usually cut him off at that point, patting him on the back while trying to pry his hands off the coffee mug filled with scotch. It was hard to fully remember those days; each year making the memory foggy as he stayed sober. You didn’t miss the drinking but rather the stories they spilled from inside him.
Loren was his first love, Pepper was his second.
Loren was you mother, but Pepper was the closest thing to one you could get. She made sure to keep you fed during his long hours of work, tucked you in at night and told JARVIS to keep the star lights above you well lit. Pepper was a great mother, but she wasn’t yours.
Sometimes when you couldn’t fall asleep at night you’d imagine what Loren use to look like. Did she have your eyes? Did she like to read Nancy Drew before bedtime like you did? Did she have dreams of becoming some big star that knew everyone there was to know? Did she have stories tucked away of your father that only coffee mug scotch could reveal?
All these questions would swirl in your head before you were to too tired to keep asking them, the start of a new day washing them away from you completely. Death always had a way of avoiding sleepless questions. You only knew one thing for sure about your mother though.
You loved her, and my god, missed her.
But nothing could have prepared you for today.
The way your heart pulled and squeezed inside of your now hollow chest as your eyes stared below at a lake that had the last piece of Tony Stark floating on it. Nothing prepared you for the feeling of poisonous sadness that flowed through your veins as you held tightly onto a little girl’s hand that was now part of your family, already old enough to feel the full force of your father’s loss. It had been three days and you already felt strength drain from you.
It was all too much. Too unbearable. You didn’t move from standing on the dock, eyes glued to the slow moving water. It wasn’t until a tiny tug on your hand that you even realised you were still breathing.
“C’mon, Happy wants to see you.” Morgan’s small voice fills the silence.
‘That’s right,’ Your think as your eyes come back to focus. ‘I’m real. I’m not just staring at water, I’m at my father’s funeral. I wasn’t snapped out of existence again, I’m alive.’
You heard her say your name and are forced to float back to your body.
‘I can move... I should move.’ You pull from her grasp and turned toward her with a shaky smile.
“You go ahead.” You’re surprised when no tears drip down your cheeks. “I’ll be up in a minute.” Your eyes follow her up the stairs, vision glossy as Happy sits next to her on the porch swing. This cabin was not part of your story, the way Morgan floated around it with familiarity was something you simply would never relate to.
Pepper was Tony’s anchor, Morgan was hers and now yours was floating down a river.
———
Wanda watched in silence as the last of the guests fanned out from the lawn. She felt the familiar tug of pain in her chest as she took small steps toward the two girls on the dock. That look on your face was one she saw in the mirror more times then she would like to admit. As she watched the youngest Stark fall onto the porch swing with a small giggle, her mind snapped back into focus.
This was her only chance.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Wanda’s voice was steady, a stark contrast from the tears that fell onto her cheeks. You bite back a bitter scoff and choose to simply nod. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t anyone’s and yet that was the hardest part. Your father chose to die, chose it. How was that ever going to not hurt? “I know what it’s like to lose someone and even though your father and I had... a strange past.” She put a gentle hand on your forearm. “I know in my heart he loved you.”
Your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day filled with tears as you finally looked into hers. Wanda gave a smile as she wrapped her arms around your shaking body and squeezed.
You finally broke.
Wanda was someone you had only spoken to in passing; watching as she tried to crash your father in cars once during the airport fight. You never blamed her for it though, knowing that it was never an intention to truely hurt him. She was barley less then a stranger and yet here she was, letting you sob in her arms as she whispered comforting words in a language you didn’t understand. In that briefest of moments, she was the closest thing to a anchor you had.
For a moment the wave of grief had settled in your body. For a moment, you felt like you could live without him.
“Thank you.” Your voice was muffled by her cardigan, tears finally drying on puffy cheeks as you sniffled. “Thank you.” She moved back and let her hands rest on your shoulders.
“That feeling.” She said with a comforting smile. “That feeling of relief is something that needs to be treasured in times like these.” You tried not to let your confusion show as she moved her hands up to your cheeks. “I can help you.”
“How?” Your eyes widened as you felt a low pulsing float from your neck up to above your ears as she smiled once more.
“But first-“ You were forced to watch in silent horror as her eyes glowed a a deep red. “You need to help me.”
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Text
Slow Hands | Tom Hiddleston x Reader
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Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader
Summary:  Tom and you are old friends. But how you wish it was more. Tom decides to a quiet birthday with you. A birthday wish and a few beers can change your life.
Warnings: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Birthday Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering,Teasing
-
“We should take this back to my place.” you said right to Tom’s face.
“I beg your pardon?” Tom responded, color rising to his cheeks.
“The food.” you held up the bag of takeaway. “We should take the food back to my place to eat, don’t you think?”
“Right, of course.” Tom sputtered. “Excellent plan.” Tom took the bag from you and exited the pub.
You jogged to catch up with him. “What did you think I meant?”
“I’m not sure to be honest.”
“Are you sure wouldn’t rather do something else on your birthday? I mean this is hardly the glamorous lifestyle you are used to.”
Tom laughed. He never grew tired of your constant prodding and poking at his fame.
“You know me better than any magazine article. A nice quiet dinner in with one of my best friends is my idea of a perfect birthday.” He gave a closed lip smile and continued walking on.
The word “friend” hurt more than any bullet or punch. Yes, you appreciated Tom’s friendship more than anything. Treasured it. But you didn’t want to be his friend. You want to be his everything. The one who shares his bed at night. You wanted to add “girl” in front of "friend”. But that was never going to happen. Tom made it clear that he saw as nothing more than a friend. That fucking word again.
“Well come on and I’ll let you pick the first movie of the night.” You picked up the pace, hurrying along the sidewalks of London towards your modest flat.
Tom jogged to catch up. He wrapped his arm your shoulders and pulled you into his side, kissing your temple. “What would I do without you?”
You gritted your teeth without answering.
-
Once the two of you settled on your worn couch, Tom grabbed for the remote while you fetched utensils and drinks in the kitchen. You flopped next to him, thighs touching. You handed him a beer, while he nudged your container of food over.
“So what Disney marshmallow fluff are you going to make me watch this time?” you snarked as you shoved a handful of fries into your mouth.
“Hey! I like that marshmallow fluff.” Tom elbowed you in the ribs. “And chew your food. I don’t want to perform the Heimlich, I only play a doctor on TV.”
You turned to face Tom and with a straight face and took a massive bite of your burger, chewing with your mouth open. Tom’s lips twitched. He picked up his burger and licked his lips before taking a slow bite. Drops of mustard clung to the corner of his mouth.
“You…” you gestured to his mouth. “… have something.”
Tom flicked his tongue out to swipe away the droplets. The whole act made your cheeks hot. Does he even understand what he is doing?! your brain screamed.
“Did I get it?” Tom asked, looking at you with those blue eyes someone could get lost in.
“Um…” you pretended to check, “… yup.” you prayed he didn’t notice your embarrassment.
“Now about that movie…” Tom waggled the remote in front of your face.
-
Two hours later, you finished the burgers and fries and the movie. Several beers lay empty on the table.
“Now that I have tooth decay.” you lunged for the remote, reaching across Tom.
He tried to pull away, but you moved too quick, snatching the remote before he shifted. You fell against his chest. His heart pounded through his t-shirt as you placed a hand against the sharp planes of his torso.
“My turn.” you stuttered as you stood up, rushing to the kitchen. “but first….” you pulled a large box from the fridge. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” you yelled as you placed a cake on the coffee table in front of Tom.
“Darling…” Tom extolled as he drank the last of his beer, placing the empty bottle next to this first empty. “… you shouldn’t have!”
You gave Tom a withering glance.
“But I am glad you did.”
“Are you kidding? I have been thinking about this all day. Do you realize how hard it is to not eat cake?”
He pushed against your shoulder as you sat down next to him. “I appreciate your sacrifice and willpower.”
He reached for the knife but you touched his wrist to stop him cutting the cake.
“We can’t eat yet.”
“Why not?” Tom looked confused.
“Make a wish.” You held up a candle and book of matches.
Tom groaned as he fell back against the couch. “You are not going to sing are you?”
“It’s tradition. You like tradition.”
“Only when it suits me.”
“Humor your dear old friend.”
You snuggled into the crook of his neck. You inhaled his scent. Today he smelled of wood and spice and hops from the beer. And a tinge of something distinctly Tom. You could never name it but you caught whiffs of it on your throw blanket after Tom would crash on your couch after too many beers.
You didn’t see a splash of pink rush across Tom’s cheeks or how his hand hovered over your back, indecisive where to place it. He ultimately let it fall on the back of the couch. He cleared his throat to break the silence as you stared up at him with puppy dog eyes.
“Well let’s get on with it.” he clapped his knees as he leaned towards the cake.
You pushed the candle into the thick layer of chocolate frosting, it tilted ever so slightly. You sang Happy Birthday in a slight off key tone while Tom smiled in mock embarrassment and shame.
“Happy Birthday to you!” you finished up as you lifted the cake to his face. “Make a wish.”
Tom looked over at you for a moment and then closed his eyes before blowing out the candle.
“What did you wish for?” you asked as he handed you a big slice of cake.
“I can’t tell you or else it won’t come true!” Tom said through a bite of cake.
“Party pooper.”
“It’s my party.”
“Fine.” you shoveled a big bite of cake into your mouth. “Have your secrets!”
Tom smiled as he took another big bite.
“So…” you asked as you pushed the last bite of your cake. “Now that you are an old man—”
“I resent that remark.” Tom finished up his cake.
“Fine. You’re young, practically a teenager!” you rolled your eyes and Tom suppressed a laugh. “What I meant is you are now 39. The last of your thirties. What you are you planning to do?”
“Well, I haven’t thought about it too much. It just another year.” Tom gave you a look you couldn’t quite place.
“Stop bullshitting me, Tom. I have known you for too long to believe that. You always have some half-baked plan cooking in that brain of yours. What does 39 hold for you? Skydiving? Directorial debut? Wedding in Vegas to a showgirl? Spill it.” You grabbed your now lukewarm beer and took a swig.
Tom shifted in his seat to look at you. An unnerving stare with those damn blue eyes. You squirmed in your seat, hiding the shiver running down your spine and the heat on your neck and cheeks.
“Now that you mention I do have some plans for the coming year.”
“Really?” you leaned in.
“Yes. I am planning on finishing up my commitments to Marvel for the year.”
You nodded knowing that Marvel would always be a major part of Tom’s life.
“And I have a few scripts I am reading. But I am looking to settle down this next year.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach.
“I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.” You stood up and grabbed the plates and hurried to the kitchen. You feared you might cry.
“It’s not anything serious yet.” Tom spoke to the back of your head as he stood. “But I am certain she’s the one.”
Tom came up behind you as you placed the plates in the sink and turned on the water. Tom turned the water off.
“Wow. She must be some kind of girl. Anyone I know?” you choked on your words. You didn’t know which answer would be worse.
“You know her very well.” Tom’s hands trailed slowly up your arms. His fingers teasing your shoulders before they skimmed down your back and lighting on your waist. You turned in his grip to face him.
“I—”
Your thought cut off by Tom’s lips pressing against yours. His hands fisting into the bottom your shirt. The kiss was over almost as fast as it started and Tom pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath heavy against your cheek.
“I hope you feel the same way.” Tom sighed. “Because I want you, darling.”
His finger traced along the curve of your cheek and Tom licked his lips as his eyes darted between your eyes and lips.
“What? How? Huh?” you regain the use of your voice.
“It has always been you. No matter happens. No matter what goes wrong or right. I always come back to you. You are the one constant in my life, my soft place to land.” Tom’s eyes shone bright under the harsh light of your kitchen.
“You mean you can’t tell that I want you?” your lips curved into a smile as your fingers teased the curls at the nape of his neck.
Tom’s face froze in an expression of confusion as his brain processed your words. You leaned into his ear. “I want you too. Bad.”
Tom smiled a wide smile. He pulled you close against his chest, his hand gripped the back of your shirt for dear life.
“Once we start, there will be no stopping me.” Tom raised his eyebrows in question.
“Who is asking you to stop? We can take our time, we can do this all night” you quirked an eyebrow up and that was all Tom needed.
He lunged towards with a fervor. His kiss hungry. You groaned against him and his tongue slipped past your lips, searching. You tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, sliding your hands against the sharp angles of his stomach and chest, the lean muscle flexing under your touch.
“Should be take this to the bedroom?” You asked, panting.
“I thought you would never ask.” Tom pulled you along.
You shed your shirt as you walked through the living room. Tom followed suit and tugged at his jeans while you did the same. You both stopped at the bedroom door to pull your pants off, leaving them there.
Tom grabbed you again. “I have never seen you in just your underwear before.” He brushed an errant piece of hair off your forehead. “You have never looked as beautiful as you do now.”
“You don’t have to flatter me, Tom. You already have my pants off.”
“We’ve wasted so much time, I intend on spending the rest of my days lavishing attention onto the woman I love.”
You caught your breath as you stared at Tom, your best friend. He stood before you in just his underwear, flushed. His pupils large and lust blown, he gazed upon with a look you only saw from him through your TV screen.
“I love you too.” you whispered as you shuffle your feet. “I’ve always loved you. You’re the one, Tom. You stole my heart, you charming bastard.”
You walked towards him and wrapped your arms around him. “And now…” you looked up at him through your lashes as you ran a finger along the waist of his underwear before tugging them down in a single motion. “I want to experience every inch of you.”
Tom walked you back until the backs of your legs hit the bed and you fell back hitting the mattress. He crawled on top of you, his hands snaked behind you and unclasped your bra. He slid his hand underneath the bra to massage your right breast, fingers worrying the nipple into a hard pebble.
“Ahhh!” you moaned as you arched your back to his touch.
“So responsive, darling. I had no idea.”
You slid the bra off your shoulders and threw in onto the floor as Tom gave the same treatment to your left breast, eliciting the same moan from your lips.
“I wonder what other noises you can make?” Tom pondered as he moved down your body. You whimpered when Tom’s fingers traced the waistband of your panties. He pulled them down your legs and discarding somewhere in the dark room.
His breath was hot against your thighs and you tensed not knowing what would happen next. Tom licked your pussy with the flat of his tongue.
“Fuck!” you hissed as you gripped the sheets at your side.
Tom chuckled against you. “Oh, give me time, darling. But for now, let’s see how it takes for you to come undone.”
Tom continued his devouring of you. You bucked your hips against his mouth and he snaked an arm up to hold you fast against the creaking mattress, while the other hand pushed your leg wide, granting him easier access.
“Hmmmph.” you moaned as Tom flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit. He glanced up as your head fell back and grinned. He flicked his tongue against you again and your release edged closer.
As if Tom sensed it, he released your leg and teased a single finger along your slit, collecting juices. He plunged into you and you gripped around him.
“You are so wet already for me.” he cooed as he pumped in and out of you.
“I’m close!” you pleaded as Tom’s fingers curled inside of you.
“Come for me, darling. Come for me.” Tom pleaded as he lowered his head between your legs.
Tom added a second finger as well as sucking against your clit which toppled you over the edge. Your hands flew to tangle into the mess of ginger curls on Tom’s head. Tom continued to pleasure you through your orgasm until you pushed away.
Tom positioned himself between your legs and took himself into one of his hands, giving his hard cock several pumps.
“That was exquisite.” he hummed as he teased the head of his cock along you.
You lifted your hips into him, a silent invitation, and Tom pushed into you. He hissed as he filled you completely.
“Fuck.” Tom breathed as he paused a moment to savor the sensation. “You are amazing. You feel amazing.”
Tom pulled out almost entirely and then plunged into you again, snapping his hips. You pulled him down on top of you, crashing your lips against his. He tasted of you.
Tom continued to snap his hips against you, grazing the pubic bone. Another orgasm quickly approached, and you snaked your hand between your two bodies, finding your clit, drawing tight circles.
“I’m close.” Tom moaned against your neck.
“Me too.”
Tom’s thrusts became hungry and erratic and within seconds, he spilled inside you, his head fell into the crook of your neck. You soon followed, clenching around him, causing Tom to chuckle, his chest shaking in ragged breaths.
As the waves of pleasure dissipated, the two of you lie motionless, neither wanting to move. As if moving would break the spell and the two of you would wake up from this impossible dream.
“Tom?” you questioned.
“Hmm?”
“I can’t breathe.”
Tom rolled off of you and took a place to your side, propping himself up on his elbow. “Sorry about that.”
His long fingers ran along the curves of your bare arm. You feared to look at him. To speak. Afraid he would say he made a mistake.
“So…” you started, staring at the ceiling fan in your bedroom going round and round.
“You’re afraid I’m going to say it’s a mistake.” Tom took your chin in his hand and turned your face to his.
“How did you know?”
“I know you.”
“So…”
“So… the only mistake I made was not telling you about my affections years ago. My mistake was wasting my time chasing a feeling, a love that was sitting right in front of me.”
He kissed your forehead. A simple gesture, he had performed a hundred times before. But now, it was not out of friendship but rather love. He took a breath as he made a decision.
“Marry me?” he whispered as he nuzzled behind your ear.
“What?!” you pulled him away.
“Marry me. When you realize you have found your mate, you want the rest of your life with them to start as soon as possible.”
You searched his face for emotion, for malice, for jest. But there was none.
“Y… ye..yes!” you stuttered out.
Tom pulled you against his chest and he kissed you with the passion of no man before in your life.
“I wished for you. Every year I wished for you.”
“I wished for you too.” you hummed as his arms closed around you and the two of you drifted off in bliss.
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siriushxney · 3 years
Note
14 and 21 from the fluff prompts with Niki please?
* . NOT ACCORDING TO PLAN !
pairing — nihachu x reader
prompts — #14 + #21 (fluff) “shut up and kiss me already” & “I turned out liking you a lot more then I originally planned”
note ! — turned out a little bit longer than I planed haha, but this is defiantly of my favourites! (also side note, I compare the reader and niki to a heterosexual couple but pronouns are gn!)
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when two people who are both stubborn as hell, fall in love, they have a tendency to hide it — not wanting for anything to change between them and the other person. but sometimes, hiding it hurts more then the thought of rejection — no matter how deep down you bury those feelings, they always crawl back up one way or another, waiting and hoping you act on them.
blocking them out wasn’t that easy.
having known niki virtually since you had made the big move, she had been your support and number one cheerleader — always rooting for you in everything you did. she made sure you were comfortable in your new location, and offered to be your tour guide of sorts. she had become your best friend — and crush, but she didn’t know that. she could never know that.
you planned on taking it to the grave, not wanting to ruin the friendship the two of you had — you didn’t want her to look at you differently, didn’t want the dynamic between the two of you to change.
so you did what any stubborn person would do.
you hid it.
the both of you were curled up on her couch, sharing laughs at the rom-com playing quietly on the tv, the bottle of wine sitting half empty on the coffee table, and wine glasses clutched in your hands, sloshing with every move the two of you made.
"who would you choose, jake or andrew?" niki asked after taking a swig of her wine, her attention bouncing between you and 'sweet home alabama' that was playing on the tv.
"obviously jake — as handsome as andrew is, jake loves melanie for who she really is, that's all I could ever hope for" loving someone for who they really were, was all that mattered to you — not riches, not looks, not anything else of the sort. you just wanted someone that understood you in ways you didn't understand yourself.
niki bit her nail slightly as she thought over what you had said, "well I know who you really are," niki looked up slightly, a small smile making itself present on her face as she spoke.
with barely a whisper, you managed to question her, "o-oh... do you now?"
she nodded slowly, "you're someone who puts others before yourself because you'd rather others be happy in sacrifice of your own happiness," she didn't hold back. "you're someone who enjoys playing video games and watching movies rather then going out and partying every weekend because you value your alone time," she scooted a smidge closer to you. "you're someone that is so perceptive of everything around you, yet somehow so oblivious that you can't see someones obvious feelings for you."
with the closeness between the two of you, and the borderline confession that had just been spoken, you searched for words only to come up short — instead, fumbling and mixing your words together, "you-uh. like, who has feelings for me?" not wanting to jump to conclusions, you opted for a question rather than a statement.
niki snorted and slouched forward with gentle giggles, her head coming to rest on your shoulder, "what did I say hm?" she lifted her head so she could look you in the eyes. "you're oblivious — I knew I liked you from the minute we met, but I turned out liking you a lot more then I originally planed."
your eyes stayed glued to hers, waiting to see if she would start laughing, or if she would tell you she was only joking — but none of that came. she only looked at you with a gleam of something you couldn't name, in her eyes.
she was serious.
"wait, you... you like me? as in like like me or like... like me as a friend? because let me tell you, I like you a lot more then just a friend-"
"shut up and kiss me already," with a hand gripping your shirt and a small yank towards her, your lips connected — tense shoulders melted into a more relaxed state, and the breath you had been unconsciously holding in released in a pleasant sigh.
as she pulled away for a breath, your eyes stayed shut, taking in what exactly just happened — the girl that you thought you had no chance with liked you back. there was no way that this was real, you had to be hallucinating.
"just so were clear..."
"I like you Y/N, I really do."
"okay I was just making sure."
niki giggled once more and leaned to place her forehead onto your own — her smile contagious as you found yourself smiling back. "were like jake and melanie, aren't we?"
"just like them — minus the cheap beer, southern accents, and wedding crashing."
"we're even better then them — were us."
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motherjoel · 4 years
Text
fine line series (spencer reid x reader)
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part 1/3- to be so lonely
summary: spencer lets his jealousy and family problems get in the way of his relationship with you
a/n: you don’t need to know these songs at all to enjoy the story, but i recommend listening to them just for the full experience! harry styles is my fav :)
wc: 1.6k
part two, part 3
-
don’t call me baby again
it’s hard for me to go home
be so lonely
-
“Morgan, stop!” you giggled while being lifted up bridal style and twirled by the BAU’s resident jock against your will. 
“I can’t help that you’re too damn cute, Y/N!” Morgan laughed before setting you down gently. The two of you were pretty close, and when it came down to it, Morgan was like the big brother you never had- everyone knew this. But apparently not everyone believed it
After chatting and laughing with Morgan for a bit, you noticed Spencer wasn’t at his desk anymore. You decided to search for your boyfriend, wondering if he was maybe getting coffee. When you entered the breakroom, your suspicions were proven to be correct as he poured himself another cup, strands of his unruly hair hanging in his face. You walked over to him and pushed a hair behind his ear, accidentally making him flinch.
“Oh I’m sorry babe, did I scare you?” you asked, apologetically. He was never this jumpy under your touch- he normally leaned into your caresses and head scratches.
“Nope,” he replied, nonchalantly popping the “p”. Without another word he headed back to his desk. You thought this was weird, but you brushed it off and returned to your desk where Morgan was waiting for you.
“Where’s my cup, princess?” he asked flirtatiously, one leg leaning on your desk.
“She’s not your barista, Morgan,” Reid scoffed, not looking up from his paperwork. You shared a concerned look with Morgan, wondering what was wrong with your boyfriend.
“I know pretty boy, I’m just thirsty is all,” Morgan said, holding his arms up in defense. When Spencer didn’t bother to reply, Morgan just headed back to his desk and continued to work on his files. You turned your attention to your snappy boyfriend, who had been looking at the same paper for a few minutes without turning the page- this is how you knew something was definitely wrong. You stood up and walked right in front of him, forcing his attention on you.
“Is everything okay, my love?” you asked, tilting his head up with your hand. He just looked away and pushed your hand back down.
“Why do you care? Why don’t you just ask Morgan? You’re his princess, after all,” he angrily replied, saying the last part under his breath.
“Hey, what's with the hostility?” you asked, standing up. You were surprised at this sudden shift in your boyfriend's attitude. 
“Hostility? Y/N, you’ve been doing everything but making out with Morgan right in front of me, and you expect me to be peachy keen? Well, I’m sorry that I'm not as perfect as him,” he raised his voice, gaining the attention from the rest of the team, who had stopped working on their paperwork.
“Woah there pretty boy, Y/N and I are just friends, you know that,” Derek said, holding up a defensive hand.
“Go to Hell,” Spence bit back, before grabbing his bag and speedily making his way out of the room. Everyone stood in awe of what just happened, unsure of how to react. You decided to let him cool down and you all tried to get back to work, but the energy was off for the rest of the day. JJ had tried to make small talk with you, but you found it hard to be cheery after the incident from earlier. As you were packing up for the day, you decided to visit Spencer. Before you left, Morgan came up to you.
“Listen, Y/N, apologize to Spencer for me?” he asked, sincerely.
“I will Derek, but I honestly don’t think you have anything to apologize for, it's not like we were acting any different today,” you said and he nodded, deep in thought. “I’m gonna visit him now to see what's up,” you told him before saying your goodbyes to the rest of the team. 
On the car ride to his apartment, you were racking your brain for what you did wrong, but you came up with nothing. You decided to just ask him straight out. Pulling into a parking spot, you made your way up and knocked on his door. You could hear things crashing as Spencer made his way to answer, which only increased your worry.
“Hey Y/N, decide you finally care about me?” Spencer greeted you, words slurring slightly and the smell of alcohol on his lips. 
“You’re drunk, Spencer,” you acknowledged, pushing your way into his apartment as he stumbled behind you and took a seat on his couch, watching you as you stood in front of him, arms crossed.
“What was I supposed to do, stay sober while my life falls apart?” he asked, taking a swig of his travel size booze. 
“Babe, don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?” you asked, trying to wrestle the booze from his hands- he didn’t put up much of a fight in his drunken state. 
“No, I don’t! I’m having the worst week of my life, and my girlfriend doesn’t even love me anymore,” he pouted, putting his head into his hands. You sat next to him and rested a hand on his back, only for him to squirm out of your touch.
“Spence, you know I love you. Nothing you can say will make me stop, so just tell me what happened”, you almost begged, vowing to get to the bottom of this.
“Well, over the weekend I went to visit my mother,” he started, trying his best not to slur his words. “When I got there I could tell she didn’t recognize me anymore. She tried! But the entire visit, the woman who raised me didn't even know my name!” he shouted with a mirthless laugh before putting his head back into his hands. This broke your heart- of course he was on edge earlier. 
“I'm so sorry baby,” you said, refraining from giving him a comforting touch.
“Don’t call me baby again,” he slurred into his hands.
“Spence, you’ve got your reasons for being upset. I wish you had told me sooner about your mom, maybe I could've helped you, or I at least could've been more sensitive at work,” you sympathized. He couldn’t even look at you. 
“Do you think it's easy?” he asked, finally raising his gaze to you.
“Do I think what's easy?”
“Being of the ‘jealous’ kind,” he sighed, reaching for his alcohol again.
“Spencer, you’re just having a bad week,” you reasoned with him, worried about what he could say next. You soon learned that you were right to worry.
“This isn’t working out,” he said, looking at his hands. 
“Well, if you would just talk to me, we could work things out,” you said, trying to put your hand on his back, only for him to squirm away again.
“No, Y/N! Us! We’re not working out,” he shouted. Your face went white. “I think you should leave,” he sighed, taking another swig. 
This broke your heart into a million pieces, but you thought better than to fight it- he was drunk, and you doubted he'd even remember most of what he said. You, however, would remember. You wiped away the tears you hadn't realized were falling and you picked up your purse before rushing out of the room and into your car. You drove home in silence, the only noise being your occasional sniffle. 
-
It had been a few hours since your fight. You were currently snuggled on the couch next to Penelope, who you had called once you got back to your apartment. The second she heard your raspy, choked-up voice, she was on her way with a tub of ice cream. The two of you had watched shitty reality TV for hours when she began to doze off- you, however, were not tired whatsoever. Your conversation with Spencer rang in your mind all day, and you wondered if there was anything else you could’ve said. Just as you thought this, your phone began to vibrate and Spencer’s smiling contact picture showed up on your screen. Penelope began to stir a bit but you just hushed her back to sleep before rushing into your room and shutting the door. 
“Hi,” you said softly, embarrassed at the crack in your voice. 
“I’m an arrogant son of a bitch,” Spencer began. You could tell by his voice that he had sobered up.
“Spence-” you started, only to be interrupted.
“No, I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he's sorry. Y/N, I'm so sorry. I-I was a jerk today, I didn’t mean anything I said,” he told you, and you wanted to believe him. You really did.
“Spence, you might have been right,” you said, so softly, you weren’t even sure if he heard it. He did.
“What?” he asked, and your heart broke.
“You might have been right. About… about taking a break,” you said, trying to keep your composure.
“No, Y/N, I was drunk, I didn’t mean it!” he pleaded through the phone.
“I know, but… you have a lot going on with your mom and you should be there for her. I don’t want to get in the way of your relationship with her,” you told him, biting your nails. As much as it broke you to say this, you only wanted him to be happy.
“Y/N I know what you’re trying to do. Please, please don’t do this,” he said, his voice cracking. You couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m sorry Spence,” you said before you hung up the phone. You turned your phone on silent and went back into the other room, where Penelope was wide awake to greet you with open arms and soothing words.
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quartzwriting · 4 years
Text
Christmas at Stark Cottage
Pairing: Doctor Strange X Reader (gender neutral)
Description: You and Stephen spend the first Christmas after the snap with Pepper, Morgan, Peter, May, Happy, and Rhodey. Even though you all miss Tony, he brought you all together. 
Warnings: Might be emotional (has prompted tears from a few readers)
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: Originally posted to Qutoev for Christmas 2019 / Grammar updated
Part of my Dec 2020 Holiday One Shot Schedule/Master List
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
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The Stark cottage was covered in a fresh blanket of snow, the cold wind and fluffy snowflakes blowing by as you and Stephen stepped through the portal and began to walk up to the porch and front door. The beautiful area dashed in white and the house decorated with bright lights and wreaths gave you the impression that this Christmas day would be an amazing one.
You kicked the snow off your boots and shook out your hair of snowflakes, Stephen following your actions as you both got under the dryness of the front porch. It was not snowing this much in the city so you did not expect to be bombarded with snowflakes. You reached forwards to knock on the door with your free hand, the other holding a plate stacked with your famous sugar cookies that were a hit every year. Stepping back to stand beside Stephen, you looked up at him and smiled. The happiness on your face made him crack a warm smile of his own.
This was the first Christmas since the blip, since Thanos was taken down and everyone that flew away as ash had returned. To Stephen, it was just another Christmas, but he knew you had a few without him and that brought a little sadness to his heart. You had told him that during those years you would spend Christmas day with the Stark family, making festive memories and teaching Morgan how to make your cookies. By the way you told the stories he knew you loved it, but deep down he could tell that with him gone it was missing something.
This morning he made sure to make you pleased, to make up for all those missed years without him. Christmas morning was just perfect. Just the two of you waking up in the Sanctum without a worry, exchanging the gifts you got each other and sharing a beautiful morning. You couldn't ask for a better Christmas, but it was just getting started.
Again you were invited for Christmas dinner with the Starks, a few more people attending alongside you this year. You brought along all the gifts you got everyone and were just waiting to step out of the cold and into the warmth of friends.
The door swung open, Pepper instantly greeting you with a big grin and a hug. She let you both in out of the freezing cold. The smell from the kitchen hit you, hinting to you the amazing meal Pepper always made every year. You saw that Happy, Rhodey, and May were already here and lounging in the living room, soon the house was full of greetings and wishing each other Merry Christmas. Pepper took your plate of cookies, allowing you to take off your coat and boots. She admired how beautifully decorated they were. Then you could hear sets of footsteps running their way down the hallway followed by excited giggles.
"Uncle Stephen!" Morgan ran up to him and jumped on him before he got the chance to do anything else and gave him a big hug. He was occupied with carrying the bags of gifts you two had brought, so he put them down so he could kneel down to her height and hug her back.
While you smiled at the two, someone dashed up to you and hugged you as well. It was Peter who gave a cheery "Merry Christmas, (Y/N)!" as he threw his arms around you. You hugged him back, glad Pepper was now holding your plate of cookies. He might have knocked them right out of your hand.
"Whoa cool necklace!" Peter pointed to the pendant that was around your neck, instantly recognizing what it was. It was your present from Stephen, he had got a necklace made to look like the Eye of Agamotto, a golden eye with a little shining emerald in its centre.
"Thanks," You smiled, kissing the sweet boy on the cheek, "It's my gift from Stephen."
Peter then held up his fist towards Stephen, enthusiastically asking for a fist bump with a dumb grin on his face. Stephen playfully rolled his eyes and accepted before the teenager surprised him with a hug.
You looked down saw the little girl looking up at you with excited eyes. "Come here you!" Morgan leaped up onto you in a hug as you laughed and spun her around. Her adorable giggle made you want to keep squeezing her in hugs, but you put her down so she would not get dizzy. "Merry Christmas honey."
She looked like she was about to say something to you but she caught sight of the thing her mother was holding. "Cookies!" Morgan cheered at the sight of the plate you brought.
But Pepper held them up above her so she could not reach, "No, not till later." Morgan pouted.
"Can I help with anything, Pepper?" You asked, helping Stephen to put your bags of gifts under the brightly coloured tree.
"I could use a little help with bringing the snacks and appetizers out, thank you (Y/N)."
"Does that involve (Y/N)'s cookies?"
"No Morgan."
~~~
"So I take the tank, fly it right up to the general's palace, drop it at his feet. I'm like 'Boom! You looking for this?'"
Stephen just looked at Rhodey. He then realized it was supposed to be funny, but it was not. Rhodey looked disappointed that he did not laugh, but Happy was laughing at Stephen's blank expression.
"Why does that story never hit anymore?" Rhodey mumbled into his glass as he took another drink.
"Well, how you became War Machine does sound like an adventure." Stephen tried to clear up the slight awkwardness as he smiled.
"He tells that one all the time." Happy said, "That line used to be funny-"
"Hey!"
Happy continued, "but it's gotten old."
"Okay Happy, that's enough." Rhodey tried to change the subject.
As if in answer to his prayers, it did as Peter and Morgan entered the living space, wearing their winter coasts and covered in scarves, hats, and mittens. Morgan was clearly missing one of her fuzzy socks and she was skittering around the room, looking on the rug and between the armchairs to find it.
"What are you two up to?" Stephen asked, giving Peter a look of curiosity.
"We're gonna go outside!" Peter replied, giving a smile like a six-year-old trapped in a teenager's body.
"I can't find my fuzzy sock!" Just then she found it by the Christmas tree and quickly put it on. "Found it! Okay, I'm ready!"
"But it's starting to turn into a blizzard out there." Happy pointed out.
"Well, we wanted to have a snowball fight," Peter whined.
"Snowball fight?" Rhodey asked, sounding intrigued. "Count me in!"
"Yay!" Morgan shouted.
Happy looked at the face Peter was giving him. Like the boy was trying to convince him to come too. He gave in. "Alright me too I guess."
"Stephen, come on you too." Rhodey encouraged.
The little girl hopped over to him, pulling at his sleeve. "Come on, uncle Stephen. Come play with us." He saw the excitement in her eyes, also the fact that her coat was a little too big for her body made her too cute to say no to.
Stephen looked at the bottom of his glass before shrugging and downing it in one swig. "Okay, wait for me."
Morgan and Peter cheered in content. The group all got on their winter gear and slipped outside into the cold snowfall for some fun.
~~~
You entered the living room to find it empty, swearing to yourself that you heard voices just a minute ago. There were half-empty glasses of drinks and eaten snack platters on the coffee table, signs of people but no one was there. You laughed a little but also wondering where everyone had gone so fast. Placing down a plate of finger sandwiches you were asked to put out, you straightened out a little of the messiness that had occurred since you last were out here.
Pepper and May were in the kitchen, starting to plate dishes and clean up with your help as dinner was going to be ready to serve soon. As you organized the coffee table, you noticed the roaring fire in the fireplace. The brightness called to you, you had to go and warm your hands near it afterwards. But while doing so something caught your attention.
There were a few framed pictures on the mantelpiece that instantly caught your eye. The first one was of Peter giving Morgan a piggyback ride, the smiles on their faces making it all the more wholesome. The next was one you took yourself and sent to Pepper. One of a candid picture of Morgan, Peter, and Stephen when you all went to an amusement park together, the carnival lights lighting up their laughter filled faces after Peter had dropped his ice cream cone down the front of his shirt. You were surprised she framed it, which made you feel really good.
The last one pulled a certain string in your heart. It was a picture that was taken a while ago. Near the beginning of those long five years of darkness. But this picture told you that it was not all darkness in those times. In it was a tiny Morgan, Pepper, you, and Tony having a picnic beside the lake. The memory of that day, the memory of Tony that day, came rushing back to you. You remembered Happy had taken that picture, right before Tony dragged him out to the lake to test out a little boat. Neither of them knew how to use a paddle as someone else was trying to do the same and ended up crashing the boat. You and Pepper laughed so hard when those two came back soaking wet in lake water, tiny Morgan just giggling as she did not know what was happening.
You huffed out a laugh at the memory as you looked at the picture. Then you thought about what it would be like if Tony were here now. Making everyone laugh and cracking remarks in between eating the snacks that were out. Constantly trying to get on Stephen's nerves on purpose. He would see how much Morgan has grown and just how much she has become like him.
You wondered if he was seeing you all now. His family, not just by blood but everyone in this house tonight, is still stuck together even without its glue.
The idea made your cheek twitch. You missed him so much. At that moment you realized that even with this being the first Christmas having Stephen back, it was also the first with having Tony gone. You told yourself you would not get sad about it as you returned to the kitchen.
"Everyone is just gone." You said, capturing the attention of the two others in the room.
"What?" Pepper exclaimed, looking up from spooning finished roasted carrots onto a dish.
"Yeah. I just heard talking in the living room a few minutes ago. Now it's empty."
"That's weird. I'm sure they haven't gone too far."
"Found them." May was leaning over the counter and looking out the window, a smile on her face. Pepper joined her, letting out a chuckle at what she was seeing.
You moved in between Pepper and May to glance out the window, and sure enough, there was a sight that made you smile widely. Outside in the backyard in the fresh and perfect snow, everyone was in the middle of an intense snowball fight. Snowballs were flying everywhere and the sounds of their faint laughter obstructed by the windows. The group did not seem to be bothered by the freezing cold or the continuous snowflakes that were becoming so large that were falling from the sky.
Stephen was cheating. He was using his magic to quickly form snowballs to help his teammate, Peter, attack the other team of Happy, Rhodey, and Morgan. You noticed how unfair it was that Stephen and Peter had the advantage of both of them having powers of some kind. But everyone looked like they were having fun regardless of the disadvantage some had. The smiles on their faces and their snow-covered winter clothes and their blushing cheeks from the cold made your heart warm.
Seeing them together, having all of you together, was something you would not trade anything for. To have this family together after so many years of being apart. And you had one person to thank for that. Sadly he was not here, but you knew in spirit he was.
Dinner was so close to being ready and the sun was getting low towards the horizon. You decided to call everyone in to warm up. They all came in, covered in snow and trembling from the cold. You, Pepper, and May helped the group shake the snow off their coats. Just to mess with you, Stephen grabbed your bare forearms and kissed you on the cheek; hands and lips freezing cold which caused you to jump back. He chuckled and threatened to do it again but you hopped out of his reach just in time. May started up a kettle to make hot chocolate for the snowball fight participants while you and Pepper worked on the finishing touches on a few dishes.
The whole family was in the kitchen, laughing and having a beautiful Christmas. The Stark family.
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amatchinwater · 3 years
Text
Did a little thing for Day 2 of Stackson Week 2021!
Day 2: Trapped together
Pairing: Stackson
Warnings: underage drinking
Word count: 2709
Rating: teen and up
Ao3 link
Stiles knew it was a bad idea to have a party at Lydia’s lake house in the middle of hurricane lever rain and a goddamn flood warning. What’s even worse is he’s the first person to show up! Lydia herself isn’t even here yet. The banshee was kind enough to tell him where they put the hide-a-key so he could get in and out of the storm. Scott and Isaac aren’t picking up or answering his texts. If they’re not here because they’re too busy fucking and Stiles has to be here soaked and alone, he’s going to kill them.
When Stiles gets in the house, he stomps his shoes on the mat to not track in any mud. Lyds would castrate him for that, so he takes them off just to be safe. Slipping out of his jacket, Stiles hangs it on the hook, careful not to let it drip anywhere other than the little rug underneath it. The house is empty and eerily dark. Then again, why wouldn’t it be? He’s the only fucking one here. Making his way into the kitchen, Stiles’ preturbrance only grows. 
It doesn’t even look like the place is meant to house a party in the next twenty minutes. Nothing is set up. There isn't a single bag of chips or other snacks on the counter. No pizzas and sandwich platters like her birthday. A keg is not beside the island either. Just two bottles of wine with a sticky note that reads-
“Have fun?” 
Oh my god! Stiles jumps and flails, nearly knocking the bottles over on the counter. 
“What kind of fucking game is she playing?” Jackson snatches the note, rereading it before flicking it back towards the island. 
Still clutching his wildly beating heart, Stiles gasps, “could you maybe announce yourself next time?” He collects himself- mostly. “Not all of us have your little wolf senses. You almost gave me a heart attack, you fuck.” 
Jackson snorts and almost playfully bumps him with his shoulder. “Not my fault you left the front door unlocked, Stilinski.” 
Fuck this. “I’m leaving.” Stiles stalks back towards the front door, yanking his jacket off the hook and grabbing his shoes. Whipping the open the door, the teen groans loudly, dropping his head back, “you’ve got to be kidding me!” 
“What are you bitching about now?” The wolf steps beside him and looks outside, his eyes widen drastically. “Holy shit!”
The lake has officially overflown since they’ve shown up and the driveway is at least three inches deep with water. Jackson’s care looks like it’s barely  capable of surviving if it gets too high. Stiles almost cares enough to wonder if they should move it. This fucking storm! Now he’s stuck here with nowhere to go. Yes, he has a jeep, but the road out is no doubt a muddy mess that even Roscoe can’t navigate. 
Closing the door and putting his clothes back where they were, Stiles whines, “why would she pick today to do this?” Thinking about the weather his dad forced him to watch this morning. Most cities were calling in downed power lines and massive branches flying through the streets. 
She knew this storm was coming. So much so that Lydia even reminded him to wear his boots rather than his sneakers. “I guess I better call Scott, tell him not to come. No use in him getting stuck in the woods like this.” Sures, having his best friend here would make this exceptionally better. But Stiles doesn’t want to break up any fights between a stir crazy Jackson and Isaac. Fishing in his pocket, Stiles pulls out his phone and smashes the call button in annoyance. 
“Stiles, hey. I’m sorry I did-” Scott answers on the second ring only to be cut off by Stiles.
“I don’t care if you and Isaac were fucking,” Jackson chuckles at his jab. “Don’t come to Lydia’s. The lake flooded and now Jackson and I can’t leave.” 
“Okay,” Scott draws out the word and if Stiles wasn’t mistaken sounds a little confused. Jackson’s brows knit together at the response too. Okay, so it did sound weird then. “I’m sorry you’re stuck there, dude. But maybe this will be a good thing?”
Is he serious? “How the fuck is it supposed to be a good thing to be stuck in a goddamn house with someone who hates my guts?” Stiles’ hand slaps his thigh in exasperation. Not to mention the asshole in question was hotter than hell fire and makes it incredibly hard to be in the same room with him. Not thinking about that when Jackson can smell his chemosignals. 
“Well,” Scott drawls, “you did say you had a crush on him.” Stiles blanches and goes stalk still, forgetting how to fucking breathe. Jackson snorts beside him. Stiles is going to kill Scott. “Oh my god! He’s right next to you, isn’t he?”
“I hate you so much right now.” Stiles makes a point to stare at the floor and not at the shuffling wolf beside him. “Well, thanks for getting me killed. Great best friend job, truly. See ya probably never, Scotty.” He promptly hangs up before Scott can answer. 
“So,” Jackson purrs and Stiles can’t help but turn and face the wolf. His arms are crossed from where he leans against the wall, one foot propped behind him. Jackson’s face holds that stupid, sexy, douchbag smirk, “you like me?”
He’s not even going to entertain that. Stiles squints at him with his mouth slightly parted. It only makes Jackson chuckle. “I need a drink,” Stiles uses every ounce of self control not to literally run away and back into the kitchen. Sifting through the drawers until he finds the corkscrew, Stiles grabs a bottle. Once the cork is out- that actually had already been opened- Stiles could give fuck all about a glass. He takes a sip directly from the bottle, regretting it at the extensive bitter taste of wolfsbane.
Clearly that one’s for Jackson. He’s courteous enough to slide the wine across the island when Jackson is back in the room. The wolf stares at him as his lips wrap around the mouthpiece and drinks from it, not giving a damn to wipe it after Stiles’ drank first. The other boy just watches before his brain recovers and he opens his own bottle. Setting the cork and opener aside, Stiles grabs the wine and leaves the wolf in the kitchen to go sit in the living room where Lydia keeps the playstation. 
Plopping on the couch, Stiles lets himself sink into the cushion and takes several swigs. Actually rather enjoying the slight burn and the warmth that quickly settles in his belly. He can very easily just sit here and watch tv like Jackson doesn’t even exist. Stiles can go to literally anywhere else to be away from the wolf if need be. He cannot believe that Jackson found out he likes him. 
Fucking Scott.
It takes a few minutes for Jackson to join him. Stiles already has Supernatural playing and has killed a good third of his wine before the wolf is sitting next to him. Like right next to him. One nervous leg bounce and their thighs or knees will touch. Seriously? Lydia has two couches, a chaise lounge, and two armchairs in her living room. So why is he so close?
Scratch that initial thought. There’s like six other rooms in this big ass house that Jackson could’ve gone to. Why here? Stiles drinks more. 
Jackson takes another small sip, looking like he’s barely drank anything from his own bottle before saying, “I have a secret to tell you.” 
He fights the eyeroll only just, “what information could you possibly have that I would care about?” Amber eyes stay glued to the flat screen.
“I don’t hate you, Stiles.”
“Oh?” He asks with mock interest. Even though there’s something tickling at his heart that Jackson didn’t call him ‘idiot’ or ‘Stilinski’. He can’t allow himself to fall for the wolf’s tricks. He won’t let the rug get yanked out from under him. 
“Quite the opposite actually.” 
Stiles snorts and turns to make some smart ass retort. But his ‘yeah right’ gets stuck on his tongue finding Jackson’s face mere inches from his own. He gulps. Clearing his throat, Stiles takes a big sip before putting his bottle on the small table beside him. Too fuzzy and warm to process this, Stiles scooches until he’s pressing against the armrest. 
Jackson also places his bottle on the coffee table before sliding closer. Forcing Stiles to half turn into the couch while the wolf puts an arm on either side of him, completely encasing Stiles. “I like you,” he presses further, “a lot.” Jackson leans in until their noses brush, “tell me if you want me to stop.” 
Blame the wine. Blame his hormones for not wanting him to stop. Hell, blame everyone and everything, Stiles included. But he does have a massive crush on Jackson. Even though he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. The guy’s a prick. He has no problem letting people know that he’s better than them. Making damn sure to flaunt his money too. As if that makes him hotter or something. It doesn’t. 
No, it’s the icy blue eyes that make Stiles want to learn their secrets and harvest the knowledge. The wolf’s stupid jaw that’s perfect and Stiles just wants to bite it. He;s seen Jackson naked numerous times- thank you locker room shower’s forgotten concept of privacy. But god damn, when Jackson smiles- not his asshole smirk, but genuine smile- Stiles’ lungs and knees forget how to function. Despite his actions earlier, the teen is actually pretty happy to be stuck here. 
Only acting as though he hates Jackson because he was simply following the wolf’s lead. His eyes flick to Jackson’s bottle of wine- its contents too hard to see in the dark green glass from this distance- and back to hooded baby blues. There’s only two reasons Stiles can believe that this is actually happening right now.
Jackson’s drunk. Because Stiles doesn’t understand the extent in which wolfsbane affects werewolf's tolerance. Which would mean the ex-kanima has no idea what he’s doing and should go sleep it off. Stiles hopes it’s this because the latter is just too painful. 
Jackson’s fucking with him. Surely he doesn’t have actual feelings for Stiles. Maybe the wolf found out he’s bi and wanted to tease him about it. Although, something tells him that Danny would murder Jackson if he ever found out. Still. This is Stiles. Lowest on the lacrosse totem pole and not the wolf’s best friend. Is Jackson that cruel though?
Beautiful, parted pink lips get closer, so Stiles whispers, “you’re just drunk,” and turns his head away, hoping that’s the case here. Waiting for the joke to play out.
“I’m really not.” Jackson reaches over to grab his drink. There’s maybe three sips missing when he dangles the bottle for proof. “See?” The wolf puts it back, returning with a smirk and a cocked brow, “now will you let me kiss you?” Jackson chuckles, it’s a breathy sound, but doesn’t make to move closer. Leaving it to Stiles.
He’s not falling for that trap. The prove-to-me-you-want-it-so-I-can-kick-you-down trap by making Stiles lean in. “So you’re fucking with me then?” He should’ve known better. 
The other boy looks confused and a little offended. Jackson leans back farther, still sitting close, but no longer in Stiles’ personal space. He actually wants him to come back, but how could he ever tell the wolf that when this is just a game? “Why would I fuck with you about this?” Jackson’s voice is soft and full of so much emotion that Stiles almost believes him. 
“Uh, because that’s what you do?” Stiles gestures wildly like it should have been obvious. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that we’re not even friends. You were literally my bully when we were kids. I don’t- and i-it only got worse when I developed a crush on Lydia. Which I get, she was your girlfr-”
“What’s not why I was a dick.” The wolf cuts him off with a shake of his head. Stiles squints an eye at him, mouth still hanging open from the word that didn’t finish. “I was jealous.” 
“Why the fuck would you be jealous of me?” Stiles scoffs and Jackson ducks his head with a chuckle. “Lydia never even looked at me while you were together.” 
Jackson flashes a bemused grin when he looks back, “I was jealous of Lydia, you idiot.” The name usually bitten out comes with a tone that suggests it’s meant to be a term of endearment. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry that I wasn’t fawning over you like your little fan club, okay? My bad. You’re right, you’re incredibly hot and I should’ve stroked your ego by putting you some fucking pedestal-” Jackson swallows whatever other words and the surprised squeak from Stiles’ lips. He stares bug eyed at the wolf’s closed eyes. Jackson presses closer, his hand cupping the other boy’s cheeks while his tongue slides against Stiles’ bottom lip. Entrance isn’t given, he can’t really, Stiles is too shocked to do so. 
The wolf pulls away, still holding Stiles’ face, “I didn’t care that you thought she was attractive.” Jackson drops a hand and lifts his hips, pulling one of Stiles’ legs until the human gets the massage and- for some fucking reason- lays on the couch. The wolf’s hips immediately settle into the space created and Stiles can feel just how much Jackson wants this. Him. “I wanted to be the one you had a crush on because of the massive one I have on you.”
That’s a lot to process. If Jackson liked him then- “why did you make my life hell?” 
Jackson’s free hand falls to Stiles’ hip, rubbing softly and the other props himself on the armrest behind Stiles’ head. “I didn’t know how to handle the fact that I suddenly like guys. Well, a guy.” The wolf sighs, “Lydia knew and agreed to keep my secret as long as I needed her to. I’m sorry I treated you like that.”
Stiles has never seen him act so soft. Having Derek as an Alpha and a proper back must really be working for Jackson. It makes him charming in a way that his jerk persona never could. Being emotionally balanced and all that. 
“I’m going to ask you one more time. And I’ll know if you’re lying. So don’t do me any favors and don’t hide from me either.” The warning is evident. Don’t say it and not mean it. And don’t mean it but not day it. Otherwise he’ll walk. “Will you please, let me fucking kiss you?” 
Stiles fists his fingers in the wolf’s shirt- half expecting Jackson to snap at wrinkling his expensive clothes- to push him away or pull him closer, the other boy really doesn’t know. Until his arm moves of its own volition and Jackson’s mouth gets drawn to him. 
The wolf chuckles against his lips, “finally.” The hand on his hip grips tighter and the other comes back to his jaw. Jackson tilts his head up to deepen the kiss. Jackson kisses like he wants to swallow Stiles whole. Maybe he does. Maybe Stiles would let him. Panting he pulls away again, and the other teen bites back a whine. “I have one more question and then I promise I’ll shut up.”
The human playfully rolls his eyes, “what is it?”
“Be with me.” Jackson states. Stiles cocks his head to the side with a chuckle, that wasn’t really a question. But his heart skips a beat nonetheless at the implication of the wolf’s words. “Will you be my boyfriend?” 
Stiles is nodding before the request is completely out of Jackson’s beautiful face. “Fuck yeah, dude.” The wolf breathes out a laugh at the ridiculousness. “Now just kiss me. Please?” 
“Whatever you want,” Jackson grins and presses his body in further, claiming Stiles’ lips as his own. 
Stiles is now stupidly happy about this storm locking them in Lydia’s lake house. He got a boyfriend out if. 
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thearvariblues · 3 years
Text
And They Were Roommates - Chapter 2
Previously | Masterpost
2 – Put It Back Where It Belongs
“I said I didn’t want coffee, Jaskier,” Aiden sighed, pushing his dark sunglasses further up on his nose.
“Of course you do, darling. No offense, but you look like Death personified.”
“Yeah, I feel like I’ve already died,” Aiden murmured, accepting the paper cup from Jaskier with a frown. “Is there any chocolate in it?”
“No, of course not. I know how much you hate it,” Jaskier grinned.
“Oh, good,” Aiden smiled, taking a sip.
“There’s a shit-ton of caramel, though,” Jaskier finished.
Aiden made a face, but took another sip. His hangover really was killing him.
“I hate you sometimes,” he said. “Is this really a good idea, by the way?”
“What, to have a coffee on our way to Geralt’s?”
“To go to Geralt’s,” Aiden elaborated. “I mean, he still hasn’t texted you back.”
“Yeah, but Geralt’s always glad to see me.”
“I should hope so, considering that he’s gonna see you every fucking day for the rest of his life,” Aiden chuckled, wincing when a stray ray of sunshine found its way around the rim of his sunglasses and into his eyes. “Fuck me, I should have taken those painkillers.”
“Told you so,” Jaskier said, sipping his frappe. “Look, don’t be nervous about it. Lambert doesn’t bite, as far as I know. He’s just a little... grumpy.”
“I don’t blame him. I’d be grumpy if two idiots broke into my apartment totally unannounced.”
“I’ve announced us, love. I texted Geralt.” Jaskier rolled his eyes. “But Lambert’s kind of always grumpy.”
“So nice of you to force me to live with him, then.”
“Aiden, I’m not… forcing you to do anything. I’m just asking you, very nicely, to meet Lambert and see if you, perhaps… could share an apartment, that’s all.”
“You know, judging by what you’ve already told me, I don’t think I want to be anywhere near him, let alone share an apartment,” Aiden sighed when Jaskier unlocked the door of Geralt’s apartment building. “You said he really was an asshole.”
“He is, but…” Jaskier shrugged. “Look, I met Geralt after his divorce, I admit, but he’s told me, countless times, that he wouldn’t have made it through that if it wasn’t for his brothers. Eskel and Lambert.”
“So the asshole knows how to act like a normal human being when someone’s whole world is falling apart. Amazing.”
“Well, it can’t be said about most men I know,” Jaskier chuckled, calling the elevator.
“Fair point,” Aiden admitted. “So, is there anything else I should know about this… Lambert?”
“He’s straight, I’m afraid,” Jaskier sighed and stepped into the elevator.
“Fuck. Jaskier,” Aiden whined. “You know what I told you about straight guys!”
“Relax, babe. He’s not… like that. He’s not, you know, straight. He just doesn’t sleep with anyone but women, that’s all. He’s not gonna judge you, I promise.”
“So he’s an asshole but he’s, in fact, a pretty decent guy, too?”
“Well… he certainly is pretty,” Jaskier nodded as they stepped out of the elevator. “Yeah, trust me, him being straight is better for you. At least you won’t be tempted.”
“Tempted?” Aiden frowned. “Why would I be tempted?”
Jaskier chuckled, pushing his key into the keyhole of Geralt’s apartment.
“Oh, my sweet summer child…”
*
“Lambert.”
Lambert groaned and shook off the hand on his shoulder.
“Lambert, wake the fuck up.”
“Piss off,” Lambert mumbled, burying his face into the pillow.
“Shit… Lambert!”
It was the urgency in Geralt’s voice that made Lambert actually open one eye – a decision which he immediately came to regret when he felt a stab of pain shoot through his eye and straight into his brain. He moaned.
“What the actual fuck, Geralt?” he moaned. “Let me sleep, for fuck’s sake.”
“I’d love to, but we’re in trouble. Big, big trouble.”
“Have you set the kitchen on fire again?”
“No, but–”
“Is there an alien invasion?”
“No–”
“A psychotic serial killer on the loose in the building?”
“Not as far as I know, but–”
“Great. I don’t care, then. Good night, Geralt,” Lambert murmured, burying his face back into the pillow.
Which, as he realized, wasn’t really his pillow but a cushion, which probably meant he’d spent the night on their couch.
Oh, well, it wasn’t the first time.
“Lambert!”
“What?!” Lambert whined.
“Jaskier texted. Twenty minutes ago.”
“Mhm. Look, Geralt,” Lambert said, yawning. “I know you’re still awed or whatever the fuck that the little piece of shit not only acknowledges your existence but also loves you back, which I still find totally astounding, by the way, but you don’t need to inform me whenever he texts you, thank you very much.”
“Well, he texted me he’s on his way here.”
“Still don’t care, just try not to be too loud this time, you know Mrs. Nenneke doesn’t like it.”
“He’s on his way here with Aiden.”
Lambert groaned, opening his eye again.
“And who the fuck is Aiden?”
Geralt sighed. He looked like shit, Lambert noticed, his hair tousled, his face pale, eyes unfocused, wearing nothing but his black boxer shorts. He looked as if he’d spend the night on the couch, too. Well, it also wouldn’t be the first time.
“Jaskier’s roommate.”
Lambert sighed and sat up with a groan.
“Fucking awesome. Let me guess. Jaskier just happened to be telling this… Aiden about him having to move out at the same fucking time you were telling me about you moving out of here, am I right?”
“Well, I can’t guarantee it was at the same time, but…”
“Stop the bullshit, Geralt, or I’m gonna shove it so far up your arse that even Jaskier won’t be able to find it,” Lambert growled. “What did he text you, exactly?”
“Ugh,” Geralt observed, unlocking his phone. “On my way to your place with Aiden. Have had the bestest of ideas, explain when we get there.”
“Oh, go to hell, you and your bard,” Lambert murmured, rubbing his aching eyes. “So he wants to make me live with this Aiden, right?”
“Why do you think–”
“Because it’s fucking obvious, Geralt, to everyone with more than two brain cells.”
“It doesn’t seem obvious to me.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
“I… Lambert!” Geralt said, offended.
“When did he text you again?” Lambert asked.
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“And… Just remind me, how long it takes to get from Jaskier’s place to ours?”
“Uhm… Twenty minutes with a stop for coffee.”
A key rattled in the door.
“Oh,” Lambert said. “Fucking fantastic.”
*
When Aiden stepped into the apartment, he immediately thought he’d died and went straight to heaven.
Not because Geralt was standing there in the middle of the living room wearing nothing but his boxers, no. Aiden was used to seeing Geralt like this whenever he stayed for the night, and honestly, Geralt was never quite his type – close, right, but not exactly it.
But then there was the other guy in the room. Tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, wearing only a pair of sweatpants with at least three holes in them – and he was only counting the big ones. The guy was pale and… all the gods help Aiden… ginger.
Now, Aiden had a thing for gingers. He didn’t need his boyfriends to have red hair, of course, but it was a nice bonus.
All in all, this guy was precisely Aiden’s type.
And, logically, it simply had to be the infamous Lambert.
The infamous, straight Lambert.
Aiden felt his mouth go dry.
Oh, no, this wasn’t heaven.
It was hell.
*
Lambert should have expected something like this, of course.
Not the fact that Jaskier would simply barge in with this Aiden at nine in the fucking morning on a Saturday, no. That was totally unpredictable and extremely annoying, no matter how much Geralt always tried to convince Lambert that Jaskier’s unpredictability was endearing or something.
But he absolutely should have expected Aiden to be looking… that way.
The… guy? Lambert settled for a guy in his mind, at least until proven otherwise. The guy was wearing a long black skirt, an oversized dark blue T-shirt which he had tucked into said skirt and way too many gold necklaces and pendants. His brown hair was cut into a style Lambert was pretty sure was called a pixie cut, since Geralt’s fourteen-year-old daughter Ciri had spent her last visit here trying to convince Geralt to allow her to have her hair cut exactly like this.
And then there was the black eyeliner, of course. The black eyeliner is a must, after all.
Lambert blinked and tore his eyes away from the guy or gal or whatever the fuck when he realized that Jaskier was talking.
(Lambert had long since learned to tune Jaskier out a little. He liked the guy, all right, but it was better for his mental health to at least partially ignore him from time to time.)
Before Lambert could start focusing on what Jaskier was saying, Geralt walked up to his boyfriend and gave him a kiss. Lambert groaned.
“I know, I’m sorry, I was sleeping. Next time, you’d better call, love,” Geralt smirked. “Wait a sec, I’m just gonna get dressed. Lambert?”
“You need my assistance or what?” Lambert chuckled. “I don’t think Daffodil would like that.”
“Dandelion, Lambert, it’s Dandelion,” Jaskier said, rolling his eyes, a tiny smile on his lips. This was a game they had been playing for a while. “And I think Geralt was kindly suggesting that you should also go and get dressed into… something more appropriate.”
“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” Lambert shrugged, getting to his feet.
“You’re scaring your potential new roommate,” Geralt said.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Lambert grinned. He took three steps to Aiden, winked and grabbed a coffee cup from his potential roommate’s unresisting fingers. “Hey. I’m Lambert.” He took a sip of the coffee and immediately came to regret it. “Jesus Christ. There’s more sugar than actual coffee in this shit.”
“Hey!” Jaskier protested. “It’s not that bad!”
“Right. It’s worse,” Lambert nodded, taking a long swig from the cup before returning it to Aiden. “Ugh. Disgusting.”
“I know, right?” Aiden chuckled.
“That’s enough,” Geralt growled, grabbing Lambert’s shoulder. “You’re going to get dressed. Right fucking now.”
“Do I have to? I mean, it would be a sin to cover my body with… Ouch! All right, all right, I’m going, no need to be so pissy, Geralt. Fuck’s sake, let go of me you fucking moron…”
*
Five minutes later, Lambert was sitting in the armchair dressed in black jeans and a very fitting black T-shirt and Aiden, quite honestly, thought it was even worse than those sweatpants he had been wearing before.
In those sweatpants, he looked like a hot mess.
Like this, he was just hot.
So he was sitting there, sipping a Red Bull and watching Aiden in the opposite armchair with a cocky smile on his face.
Aiden opened his own can of the energy drink (which was, quite surprisingly, offered to him by Lambert himself) and matched Lambert’s smile with his own.
“All right, boys and whatevers,” Jaskier chimed in. “We’ve gathered here today–”
“This isn’t a fucking wedding, Jaskier,” Lambert grunted. “And we didn’t gather. You just fucking invited yourself in to force a roommate on me.”
“You do need a roommate, Lambert,” Geralt replied.
The two lovebirds were sitting on the couch, their limbs already entangled.
“All right. As you wish,” Lambert shrugged. “So tell me, Aiden, why do you want to be my new best friend?”
“Lambert,” Geralt sighed.
“I honestly don’t,” Aiden chuckled. “And honestly, I’m not even sure I want to live with you. It’s just that Jaskier insisted on dragging me here.”
“Aiden!” Jaskier groaned.
“And why wouldn’t you want to live with me, eh?” Lambert said, cocking his eyebrow. “You know, if you’re afraid of that, I can totally accept the fact that you’re…”
“Non-binary?” Aiden chuckled.
“I was gonna say a weirdo,” Lambert said with a playful smirk.
Oh, so that’s how you want to do it, Aiden thought.
“Are you?” he said, ignoring Jaskier’s protests. “I don’t know, Lambert. I’m not sure I can accept the fact that you’re one of those… soulless gingers.”
“Wow.” Lambert placed a hand on his heart and sighed. “This brings back memories of my childhood. You know, that’s what my dear departed father used to call me, may he rot in hell.”
“Jeez, slow down. It’s a bit early in our relationship to reveal your tragic past, don’t you think?”
“Nah, I think everything should be out in the open from the beginning. For example, what’s really underneath your skirt, Aiden?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Aiden chuckled. “Better yet, wouldn’t you like to see? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
“Will you? All right then,” Lambert nodded, standing up and reaching for the zipper of his pants. “I’m warning you, though, you might not be ready to face the glory of my mighty dick.”
“I assure you that I have seen dicks mightier than yours, my dear.”
“You think so? Wait for it, babe.”
“All right, all right!” Geralt said. “Lambert, zip up those pants or so help me!”
“You afraid Jaskier’s gonna choose me when he sees the true beauty of my manhood?”
“I’ve already seen it and, quite honestly, it’s not that impressive,” Jaskier shrugged. “Geralt’s right. Put it back where it belongs. Right now.”
“Yes, mummy,” Lambert grunted, rolling his eyes. “Ugh. You two are no fun.”
“I honestly don’t understand your definition of fun,” Jaskier sighed.
Lambert glanced at Aiden, who was currently busy choking with laughter. The redhead grinned.
“All right, whatever,” he said. “I’ll take…”
He raised a questioning eyebrow at Aiden.
“Him,” Aiden said helpfully.
“Him, right. Thank fuck,” Lambert nodded. “I’ll take him.”
“I’m… starting to think this wasn’t such a good idea,” Jaskier gulped when Aiden grinned.
“Quite the opposite, Daisy. It was probably the best idea you’ve ever had,” Lambert said.
“It’s a deal, then,” Aiden nodded. “Nice to meet you, roommate.”
“To living together, weirdo,” Lambert laughed, raising his can of Red Bull.
“Right,” Geralt sighed. “We’re fucking doomed.”
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ladyblogger-margie · 4 years
Text
Permit Pending - Part 2
Pairing: Will Miller (Triple Frontier) x F!Reader
Summary: Will takes you to one of Benny’s fights as an unconventional first date. 
Word Count:  4898
Warnings: 18+ (Language, canon typical violence, fingering,, oral F!receiving, unprotected sex (wrap it up, people!), creampie, PinV penetration) Tom shows up, but not for long because he sucks. 
a/n: Thanks for reading! I can’t seem to stop thinking and writing about Will Miller, so thanks for coming on this journey with me, please enjoy my attempt at smut. 
Series Master List
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First Date
You’re at work Friday morning talking comfortably with your coworkers since your boss is out of the office for the day, the rest of you are taking advantage. You wandered off to the cafe next door for your caffeine hit and now you’re counting down the hours until your date that night with the incredibly sexy Will Miller. He wasn’t much of a texter, but he has called you twice since he asked you out on Tuesday. You thought it was sweet. 
You weren’t really listening to your coworker prattle on about whatever it was she was complaining about today - you thought it was something about someone parking in her space again. Your thoughts were instead planning your post-work, pre-date prep you were going to do in a few hours. Will had organized a classic first date and you were really excited. He was going to pick you up at your place, and take you for dinner and drinks at a small but classy restaurant you’ve never tried but always wanted to. You had the perfect first date outfit waiting for you back home and you were mentally sorting through your shoe options when your phone rang. 
You excused yourself from the others and took the call in your boss’ currently vacant office. You smiled when you saw the caller ID. “Hey there,” you said when you answered. 
Will’s voice came through the other end warm and smooth as always, but there was a hesitation there you noticed when he said, “Hello, is this a good time?”
“Yes, what’s up?” 
“Please don’t be upset, but I have to reschedule tonight,” he spilled out. You could hear the stress in his voice. 
“What happened, are you okay?” you asked, concerned. 
“I’m fine, I’d really rather not have to do this, but Benny booked a fight tonight and it’s a chance for him to get out of this amaterur league and somewhere a bit more respectable,” Will sighed after he explained. 
“And you don’t want me to come?” 
Will paused on the phone. He looked over his shoulder where Benny was eating lunch. And he considered your words. He would love for you to come, any chance to spend time with you of course. But he wasn’t sure if he was ready for you to see the grittier part of his life. Benny’s fights weren’t glamorous and the crowds crude at best. Plus he didn’t want to overwhelm you with meeting his brother and his friends that were essentially brothers too all at once on a first date. 
“You’d want to come to a low tier fight, hang out with my brother and friends, instead of a romantic candlelight dinner?” he asked to gage your reaction. 
“If you want me there, I'd absolutely like to come. Isn’t the whole point of a first date to get to know each other, this seems like a great way to get to know you,” you said plainly, deciding honesty was probably the best policy with a guy like Will. 
“I’ll pick you up at 6!” Will said with excitement. 
You smiled and agreed before hanging up the phone. You returned to where your coworker sat and when they started talking again you tuned them out and sipped your artisan coffee that was starting to go cold while you started from scratch on an outfit idea for a fight night to replace the one previously planned. 
At 17:45 Will parked up the street, out of sight,of your apartment. He was frankly too excited. It took all of his self control to only be 15 minutes early to pick you up. He wanted to be on time and normal and not reveal just how eager he was to see you. He really liked the phone calls you’ve already had and meeting you has been a real joy in his life, a welcome change to his usual routine. 
At 5:50pm you paced around your apartment stopping occasionally to double check your appearance in the mirror. You’ve changed 5 times already since you got home from work before settling on the simple outfit you currently wore. It complimented your body in all the right ways, but it appeared casual enough for the event. It seemed like the obvious choice; you're not sure why it took you 5 tries to get there, but here you were. 
Unable to wait any longer, Will knocked on your front door at 17:55, fully expecting to have to wait for you to finish getting ready. To his surprise you answered just a second after he dropped his hand from your door. You looked genuinely happy to see him and his heart fluttered in his chest. He quickly checked you out, trying to stay respectful, but you looked so beautiful and so sexy he felt his pants tighten a bit at the sight of you. 
“You look -” he was at a loss for words, “You look beautiful”. 
You felt something warm clench deep within you at his words. He looked great too, he wore jeans that hugged his thighs and ass just right with a simple button up shirt he had rolled to his elbows exposing his Delta Force tattoo. 
“You look pretty great yourself,” you replied jumping out the front door and locking it behind you. He put his hand on your lower back as he guided you towards his truck parked out front. Your skin felt hot under his touch and your pulse quickened. 
He held the passenger door open for you as you hopped into the truck and watched him walk around the front and get in beside you. The cab was filled with the smell of his cologne and you found it intoxicating. The date had barely started and already you felt yourself yearning for the chance to reach across the center console and touch him. 
Will started the truck and looked over at you. He got lost in your eyes and had never felt luckier than he did in that moment. He put the truck in drive and felt bold. He reached across the console and gently laid his hand on your knee. He wasn’t sure what the rest of the night would bring, or if you’d want to go out with him again after tonight, so he figured he better not waste a moment. 
You arrived at a high school gym where the event was taking place - it certainly was not what you expected for a grown man’s fight night, but the music was blaring and the crowd sounded enthusiastic. 
Will stopped you by the side of the truck, “I’ve gotta go back with Benny, would you mind if I left you with my friend, Fish? He’s good people.”
You laughed, “Fish?”
“It’s a nickname, I’ll let him explain,” Will said, looking around. 
“Not a problem, where is he?” you replied, at this point just in for the ride of where this night would take you. 
“I don’t see him yet, which means I probably have time for this,” he whispered as he gently touched his hand to your hip. 
Your breath hitched in your chest as he looked into your eyes. You felt yourself lean towards him without really thinking about it. He gently brushed his lips against yours and you felt your heart beat clean out of your chest. You reached your hand to his chest gently as he brushed a thumb against your hip and his moustache tickled your lip and made you smile and deepen the kiss. 
“Are we interrupting?” Came a voice from behind you which absolutely was interpreting, you were only getting started. You heard a gentle whack from behind you then the same voice saying, “What was that for?”
Will pulled back, breaking the kiss but he kept his hand resting on your hip and you both turned to face Frankie Morales and his pregnant wife Maria. Will made the introductions and you take an immediate liking to the pair. 
“You’ll have to excuse my husband,” Maria said, “He likes to poke fun. Also he’s not very patient and we’ve been dying to meet the girl Will told us about.”
You push your shoulder gently into Will’s chest, “You’ve been talking about me?” 
“No,” Will said too quickly, “I just said I was bringing a date.”
“Which for Will is like getting a megaphone and standing on a rooftop,” Frankie teased. 
Will flushed, “I have to see Benny, I’m already late,” and he gave you a scratchy kiss on the check - which you really liked - and left you behind with your new friends. 
“So,” you said turning to the floppy haired man, “your name is ‘Fish’?”
Before he can explain the meaning you're joined by a tall, dominating figure with a dark expression and a full beard. Frankie hugs the man and then introduces you to him. He shakes your hand firmly. “Tom, nice to meet you,” he says quickly before turning back to Frankie. 
Maria links her arm with yours. “Let’s grab a beer,” she says, leading you inside to the bar, “I may be pregnant but I can still be a bad influence.”
You grab a beer and chat easily with Maria. She shares that she is just three months pregnant so they’ve only just started to tell people the big news. You can tell she is so happy, it’s hard not to be excited with her. She urges you through your first beer much quicker than you intend and insists on buying your second and she grabs a round for Frankie and Tom.
You meet the boys at some uncomfortable chairs placed near what will become Benny’s corner. Frankie greets his wife with a deep kiss that is mostly sweet, but does create some awkward silence between you and Tom. 
“Are they always like this?” you ask him in an attempt to break the awkwardness. 
“I don’t blame them,” he replied curtly. 
The empty silence hung between you and without a better idea, you took a long swig from your beer.
Just then, thankfully, the music changed and the announcer announced Benny’s entrance. You and your group roared and cheered as loud as you could. Tom may be a bit standoffish but he clearly was a big supporter of Benny so you had to give him credit there, even if he clearly had no manners. 
During the fight you clung to Maria’s hand and cheered and groaned along with her as Benny took a pretty serious beating. You watched Will from Benny’s corner and ached to be close to him. He seemed so anxious for his brother and it melted your heart to see his passion and protective instincts on full display. Though the violence of it all seemed really intense and not to your typical taste, you had a great time. Tom cheered the loudest when Benny was called the winner and danced around the ring celebrating. 
That’s how you found yourself sandwiched in a booth at a dive bar between Will and the wall. He was pressed hard into you by an overly enthusiastic Benny on his other side. Tom left early, something about an early open house or something the next morning, so it was just the five of you. 
“Have you heard from Pope lately?” Benny asked Frankie. 
Frankie’s eyes grew dark and Maria patted his arm. “No, not for a while now,” Frankie said, and a silence fell over the table. 
“He’ll be fine, he’ll reach out when he’s ready,” Will said. 
Benny knocked his glass to his brother’s, “You’re damn right.”
Frankie still looked sad, so you changed the subject, “I think we need another round, move boys, this one’s on me.”
You gently pushed Will and he and Benny shoved out of the booth to let you pass. You stood up and Will pressed a kiss to your lips as you passed which earned a wolf-whistle from Benny and an “Aw” from Maria and Frankie. 
You got to the bar and ordered another pitcher. You were smiling so hard your face hurt. Without question this had been one of the best first dates ever, even better than you could have hoped for. 
Or at least it was until the Worst Man in the World made it his new life’s mission to ruin your good mood. You were leaning against the bar waiting for your pitcher when he sauntered up to you and put a greasy palm straight on your ass and whispered, “I bet these jeans would look even better on my bedroom floor,” into your ear with stale breath. You pulled away from him and he grabbed your arm to keep you close. 
“I’m not interested,” you said, coolly. 
“Come on baby, at least come for a spin with me,” he slurred at you, his grip on your arm getting painfully tight. 
Will sat at the table laughing at Maria’s impersonation of Fish talking in his sleep. He went to take another drink of his beer only to realize it was empty. He looked around the bar trying to find you, frankly more bothered by your absence than that of the beer.
He hadn’t felt like this for such a long time. He thought back to your first kiss which came so early in the evening and knew he found someone special, someone worth knowing. He was putting himself out there, and he promised himself he wouldn’t do anything to scare you off, he’d do everything he could to make sure you always looked at him the way you did when he kissed you. 
He looked around Benny’s flailing arms as he told some story making fun of Fish he’s told several times before when he saw a man at the bar grab your arm and you pull away, trapped. Something in him snapped and a red-hot anger surged through his body. 
He pushes Benny out of the booth and hastens to your side, stepping between you and the stranger. “Do we have a problem here?” he asked, gruffly. 
The guy let’s go of your arm much to your relief, but he doesn’t back up. “Nope, we’re all good here, you can keep moving,” the man slurred. 
“Come on, Will, let’s go,” you said, pulling his hand, “The beer’s here, help me carry it.”
Will gave the drunk man an absolute death glare. You tug on his hand again, “Come on, I’m thirsty,” you said, pleading gently. 
Will turns and sees your pleading eyes and he softens. He grabs the pitcher and follows you back to the table. Benny slides into the corner to make room for you both. 
You try to tune back into the conversation, but you’re distracted by the set of Will’s jaw and the tension radiating off of him. You nurse your beer and aren’t sure how the pitcher drains so quickly when neither you, nor Will, nor Maria are indulging yourselves much. 
When the pitcher is nearly drained, Will leans over and whispers in your ear, “Are you ready, I’ll take you home.”
You nodded and he took your hand and stood up. You turned back to the table, “It was really great to meet you guys.”
Maria stands and gives you a hug, “Our pleasure, see you soon,” she said. 
Frankie shakes your hand and Benny gives you a bear hug before Will leads you out of the bar and to the truck. 
You step outside and the cold breeze sends a shiver through you. Will notices and when he opens your door for you, he pulls a zip up sweater from the back and drapes it over your shoulders. You inhale deeply catching his scent trapped in the fabric feeling warm.
Will is completely silent as he wraps you up and gets you settled in your seat. He drives in silence also, keeping his hands to himself this time. You sneak glances his direction and notice he white knuckles the steering wheel and grinds his jaw as he drives. He pulls up in front of your building and turns off the truck. 
“I had a nice time tonight, thanks for bringing me,” you said, breaking the silence. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, not looking at you. 
“What do you mean?”
“Your arm, did he hurt you?” he asked, strained. 
“No, I’m fine, I’ve dealt with worse,” you shrug. 
He shakes his head, “I’m sorry,” was all he said. 
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Right,” he trails off. 
“Hey, look at me,” you demand. 
He doesn’t so you reach across the console and grab his hand, “I had a great time, don’t let that guy ruin what was a perfect date.”
He looks at you with his sad, blue eyes. “Really, perfect, huh?”
You smile, “Yes. I like your friends, Maria and I are going to have lunch next week,” you said plainly. “Maybe we could double date with her and Frankie sometime,” you suggest. 
He smiles back, “Double date? You’re going to see me again?”
“I’d like to.”
He lifts his hand to your cheek and gently brushes his thumb across your cheekbone. 
“Let me walk you to your door.”
You close your eyes and lean your head into his hand before he drops it to get out. You lead him to your front door with his hand on your lower back. 
You stop at your door and hold your keys in your hand, hesitating. 
“I owe you a makeup first date,” he says. 
“I said I liked our first date, trust me, I meant it,” you said looking up at him. 
“Okay, then let me take you on a second - are you free tomorrow night?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” you couldn’t contain the eagerness in your voice. 
He brings his hands to your hips and looks deep into your eyes and you just can’t help yourself. You put your hands on his chest and push your lips to his. He is a little surprised, but he smiles into your lips and the grip on your hips gets a little tighter as he pulls you in close. 
You open your mouth slightly to sigh into him as you grab a handful of his shirt in your hands and pull him closer to your body. He rubs his thumbs across your hip bones and runs his tongue gently across your lips, his hot breath sending tingles through your whole body. 
You jump when your neighbour opens their door and breaks your kiss. 
“Excuse me,” they say as they slip past you two. 
You drop your head to Will’s chest with a laugh and he wraps his arms around you for a tight hug. He kisses the top of your head.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow for dinner,” he said, reluctantly, pulling away. 
You sneak another gentle kiss to his lips before you say, “I can’t wait.”
Saturday comes as it always does, but today you have a date. Plus you have an idea, a bold, lustful idea. You search through your drawers and at the very bottom you find the lingerie set you bought a little while ago and have yet to have the opportunity to debut. You were the first to admit you often bought clothes and trinkets online you didn’t need without a real purpose, but the habit paid off enough times to enable your impulses. 
Instead of returning to the date outfit idea you had on Friday, you instead dressed in the lingerie set and pulled over it the sweater Will never took back from you last night. You left it unzipped, draping over your scantily clad body. You hoped Will would be onboard with your new plan for your second date, and wouldn’t mind skipping the restaurant again.  
Will pulled up in front of your place determined not to show you his dark side again tonight. He let some of it slip out last night and it scared him, embarrassed him. You were so kind, so gentle, he knew you could never be with someone with his temperament so he had to be careful, continue his repression coping mechanisms and hope he can maintain control long enough to earn your affection. 
He checked his watch and even though he was exactly 12 minutes early he couldn’t wait a second longer to see you and walked up to your door. He knocked and when you opened the door his jaw dropped and without even a hello, he crashed his lips into yours. 
You felt Will’s breath hot and warm on your skin as he traced his lips down your jaw. You opened the door and before you could even say hello you saw Will lick his lips before he wrapped you in his arms and kissed you deeply. You were thrilled to get the exact reaction you had planned. 
He pulled his lips from yours  and looked into your eyes, “Hey.”
“Hello,” you said before you kissed him quickly, “I thought we’d stay in tonight.”
Will’s eyes flashed with lust as he picked you up by your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist. He pushed his lips against yours as he held you close. When he broke the kiss he said, “Are you sure? I’m happy to take you out; I want to.”
“I know, and you're so sweet,” you kissed him, “But I don’t need anything fancy, I just want you.”
He walked you over to the couch and you kept your legs clamped tight around his waist and he kissed you so earnestly your chest welled. 
He sat gently on the couch and held you by your hips as you sat in his lap. You nibbled on his lower lip before you gently pushed your tongue in his mouth with a sigh. 
You dropped your hands to his shirt and worked your way down his buttons and pushed it off his hulking shoulders. You groaned at the sight of his rippling chest and ran your fingers over the hard muscles there. He shivered under your touch and you felt his erection through his jeans twitch. 
“We don’t have to go any farther if you don’t want to,” Will said breathless
“You’re sweet William Miller,” you slipped his sweater off, “But I don’t wanna stop. I want you to fuck me.”
His hands trail up the sides of your body and up to your chest and he pulls down your bra to reveal your breasts. He peppers them with soft kisses before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks gently. 
You drop your head back and moan. You grab a handful of his short hair at the base of his neck and pull gently as he slips a hand to your thigh and traces simple patterns on your sensitive skin. You rock your hips against his, craving friction. 
He runs his finger along the edge of your panties teasing you slowly. “Bedroom?” he asked.
He locked eyes with him and saw his crystal blue ones hungry for you, his pupils blown wide. You slipped off his lap and led the way down the hall to your modest bedroom. 
He held your hand and watched you walk ahead of him. He watched your ass as you walked and felt his erection hard against his leg trapped in his pants. When you stopped at the foot of your bed and turned to face him he took your face in his hands. He looked at you and said what he felt, unable and unwilling to stop himself; “You’re so beautiful.” 
He ran his fingers down your shoulder and helped you step out of your lingerie, trailing gentle kisses down your body. He felt you tremble under his lips and it made him feel warm all over. 
He was down on his knees as he looked up at you, “Can I touch you?”
“Yes,” you whimpered, “Please touch me.”
He gently ran one finger through your wet folds, and he groaned needy when he felt how wet you already were for him. He slipped one finger into your entrance and traced his lips across the skin of your hips. He removed his finger and brought it to his lips to taste you and you tasted so good. He was overcome with desire as he led you to the end of your bed and sat you down. 
You shimmied to the head of your bed, watching Will follow and crawl up your body. He had pushed his jeans down his legs leaving him naked except his briefs. You saw his bulge through the thin fabric and gulped, he was big you could tell and you were desperate to touch him. 
Your thoughts immediately went blank when he pressed his lips to your clit and sucked gently. You gasped and bucked your hips into his mouth. 
“Did that feel good, sweetie?” he asked with a sly grin. 
“Yea- Yeah,” you whimpered. 
“Good, I want you to feel good,” he said before he buried himself between your thighs. He thrust two fingers inside of you and brushed that sweet spot inside you as he sucked and licked your clit expertly. He was gentle and took his time. You moaned his name and gripped the sheets as you reached your peak. 
“I’m - I’m gonna cum,” you gasped and he sucked your clit and pumped his fingers into you. You came hard on his face and your hands grabbed tufts of his short hair as you pushed his head into your heat as he lapped up everything you gave him. 
You fell back on the pillows gasping, your walls fluttering around his fingers as he pulled them from you. You watched as he licked his lips, cleaning up your mess. He had some of your wet in his beard and the sight was incredibly sexy. 
You reached for him and pulled him into a kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips and feel his smile. You didn’t break the kiss as you tried to shove his underwear down, but struggled, which caused you both to chuckle. 
“Let me help you with that,” he stands and pulls his own underwear off and tosses them off the side of the bed. He pauses, “I left a condom in my truck -”
“Don’t worry, I’m safe,” you said, “I have an implant and I’ve been tested since the last time -” you leave the rest unsaid. 
“Me too, are you sure?” he asks and you nod eagerly, reaching up to pull him down to you
He crawls on top of you, and traces his finger across your hip and caresses your ass as he lifts your leg around his waist. 
“This was a much better idea than dinner,” he said as his blue eyes met yours and you could see the sincerity in his eyes and your heart fluttered. You reached between you to grip his penis in your hand and guide him to your entrance. 
“Make love to me,” you plead. 
He nearly cums from that alone, but he holds on. He pushes into you slowly, feeling your wet pussy stretch around his dripping cock. He rests his weight on his forearms and hovers above you as he thrusts in and out of you. He is completely lost in you as you meet his gaze and run your fingers up his arms and across his chest. 
You lift your leg and he props it over his shoulder, his thrusts deeper with the new angle and you see stars. Still supporting most of his weight off you, he shifts to free one hand and rubs your clit to match his thrusts. 
“Oh fuck,” you moan, breaking eye contact and dropping your head back in complete bliss. 
“Cum again for me, sweetie,” he whispers in your ear before he nips at your exposed throat. 
Your orgasm crashes over you and you flutter around his cock. You moan his name and he cums with a gentle grunt. He pulls out of your sensitive cunt and you feel his cum start to drip out of you. 
He flops down on the bed beside you and pulls you close into his chest, both of you panting spent and satisfied. 
You stay there, with his arms around you as you trace mindless trails across the skin on his sweat slicked chest, until your tummy grumbles with hunger. You laugh, “Sorry, I don’t usually skip dinner.”
He kisses the top of your head, “I’m not off to a great start, amateaur fighting, and skipping dinner, not exactly the most romantic start to a relationship.”
“Relationship?” You teased. 
Will clammed up you felt him tense beneath you. You raise yourself up to look him in the eyes, “I like the sound of that.”
He pulls you in for a kiss and your tummy grumbles again. 
“I’m going to feed you, I swear. I just need a minute, then we can get dressed. We might still make our reservation,” he said, pulling away from you. 
“Or, we could order a pizza and you could stay naked,” you suggested, pulling him back down.
He smiles at you, “Only if you promise not to get dressed either, I’m not finished with you yet.” He pulls you on top of him and into a deep kiss. 
You can’t help but think this was the best second date you’ve ever been on. 
Part 3
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