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sanchosammy · 4 years ago

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Wrong Calls

Description: In a desperate attempt to find information about Pablo, you suggest your boyfriend Javier to see an old informant... Will you regret that decision?

Warnings: Some cursing and a blink of sadness, and probably badly translated Spanish . that’s about it.

Number Count: 2,717

The fight with Pablo Escobar had been on pause. The DEA was stopped with a block in the road. That was hypothetically speaking, of course. Pablo had been quiet. Too quiet to say the least. He cashed out most people’s silence and it was clearly working out well for him so. No one could get information on him and nearly three weeks had passed.

As you can imagine, Murphy, Peña, and yourself had become restless from the free time.

This was too long without a move being made on the DEA’s part. Too much time wasted on waiting for an informant to finally come forward. You were like sitting ducks as you waited for someone to drop any information at this point.

Today you couldn’t take it anymore. You didn’t want to waste your time in the office looking over the same material you have studied for weeks. None of it would help you. It was all useless paperwork by this point. The sounds from the office had become more like mockery the longer you listened. You had never spent this much time in the building and it started to feel like your own personal hell.

That’s why you went home early. The boys could see it on your face when you practically stormed out without a word. That was an unusual move on your part, but they knew what was going on with you. You were beyond committed to this case. Javier and you had plenty of late night conversations about it. The both of you were in agreement, you and him were all in no matter the cost. You just wanted Pablo Escobar caught.

In the first year of working together, it was something you bonded over. You were hesitant in the beginning considering what you knew about Javier’s past, but he looked at you with such adoration that somebody would be a fool to deny that man was in love with you.

You had stolen his heart and he didn’t want it back by this point. As Murphy put it, Javi was whipped.

All three of you lived in the same apartment building. However, you found yourself in Javier’s apartment a lot more lately. You liked to clean it for him while he stayed late at work sometimes. It was something to distract you from the stress of work, and he made sure to reward you for your thoughtfulness later at night. You couldn’t complain about that.

You were in the process of cleaning the coffee table when the telephone rang. A part of you was hopeful it was Javier with something new at the office, life had been too quiet. You were grateful for some time to rest but your mind could never find ease with Pablo on the loose not paying for a single damn crime he committed.

You picked up the phone and fell backwards into the couch with a huff, “Hello?”

A woman’s voice replied, clearly confused from the sound of her tone. “Hola, ¿es el teléfono de Peña?” (Hello, is this Peña's phone?)

When you heard the Spanish, you found yourself sitting up a little straighter in instinct. You knew Spanish somewhat. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but you had spent enough time in the country to have some of it down. Not to mention Javier constantly helped you practice in case you ever needed it.

“Sí, ¿puedo tomar un mensaje?” (Yes, may I take a message?)

She paused on the other end. From the silence you could tell she was weighing her options on what she wanted to do. She seemed uncomfortable with your presence on the phone.

“¿quién es?” (Who is this?) She asked.

Now it was your turn to weigh the options. This woman had to be someone outside of personal contacts. This wasn’t an old friend at all. Her hesitation and concern to put forth personal information was speaking volumes to you. She had to be an informant… Javier had a past with those before the two of you started dating.

You bit your lip and internally shamed yourself for what you were about to do. How could you even consider playing into the possibility of letting him see an old informant… and yet, you found yourself speaking the words without fully thinking it through.

“Soy la criada del señor Peña. ¿Puedo llevarle un mensaje?” (I'm Mr. Peña's maid. Can I take a message for him?) You asked in an almost customer service tone, playing into the stupid role you put yourself in. This was quite frankly embarrassing.

"¿Podrías hacer que me llame, decirle que es Tina." (Could you have him call me back, tell him it’s Tina.) You hummed in response and wrote down the name on the notepad.

“Sí, se lo haré saber de inmediato.” (Yes, I’ll let him know right away.)

She said her thanks before hanging up. You rubbed your faces in your hands, wanting the world to swallow you whole. You couldn’t believe what you were about to suggest.

You walked into the office and leaned against Javier’s desk. Tossing the paper in front of him silently, gaining the attention of not only Javier but Steve as well. Both had confusion spread across their faces.

“So, Tina called.” You commented and looked ahead at the wall. Murphy’s eyebrows shot up as he let out a low whistle. A polite way of saying ‘you’re in for it now, buddy.’

“What?” Was all Javier could ask as he looked at the paper then back at you.

“Yeah, she called when I was at the apartment. I think she has information about something, but you weren’t the one to answer the phone so…” You shrugged before looking at him. It was almost a little humorous how taken aback he seemed.

He hadn’t seen any of those informant’s in months. He had remained completely loyal since day one of the relationship, and you knew that without a doubt. That’s why he looked so dumbfounded to hear one of the girls contacted him after nearly six months of silence on his end.

“What did you say to her?” He asked like an animal who just saw the light of day for the first time.

“Well…” You weren’t proud of this, and you had to swallow some pride to say it. “I told her I was the maid, truthfully.”

Murphy was the first one to react, his laughter filled the room. You looked over and gave him a lopsided grin in response. It was such a joke of how far this had gone, but you couldn’t ignore the humor of it all. Javier’s girlfriend pretending to be a maid to his old prostitute, now that was a story to tell in the future.

“No kidding, you are something else (Y/N).” Steve was shaking his head before enjoying his coffee.

“Why the hell would you do that?” Javier asked, baffled as he failed to light his cigarette. The lighter not working with him.

“Look, Javi, we need something. We are sitting here wasting our fucking time while Pablo is out there continuing his bullshit. We need something, we need our in.”

Javier leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed. You noticed Murphy from the corner of your eye watching the scene intensely interested where this was heading.

“Tina isn’t going to provide any information unless I sleep with her, you know that. I’m not going to get anything out of her,”

You nodded silently before mumbling you knew that already. When you looked up, his face said it all for him. He couldn’t believe you’d actually hint at him sleeping with someone. His eyebrows scrunched together and his voice was low “Are you seriously asking me to fuck Tina?”

“Well, I mean… I’m not asking necessarily, all I’m trying to say is we have limited options Javi.”

“No.” He immediately responds. Almost sounding a little angry with you.

“It’ll be a one time thing, Javi. You’ve done it before, what’s the big deal now?” You huff with your arms crossed now, looking at him with frustration.

“I wasn’t in a relationship back then, and now I am. That’s the difference. I’m not sleeping around to catch fucking Escobar.”

By this point Murphy at least had the decency to pretend to mind his business, but you knew he was still fully in the conversation as much as the two of you were. You were all close. Partners. Not to mention you lived in the same building, and would have double-dates regularly.

“You remember what you asked me? You asked if I was all in? Well, I am. I don’t want you to sleep with some street whore, trust me. But I know that I have to sacrifice my own happiness for the sake of catching this bastard.” You sighed and pulled yourself away from this desk. You returned to your seat and the silence seemed to consume the room.

No one talked for at least five minutes. Javier hadn’t moved in his chair, he remained leaning back in silence. The most noise was Murphy pretending there was something interesting about the file on his desk, but everyone in the room knew that Murphy read through all of that already. He was just trying to pretend like he wasn’t involved for the sake of privacy.

Javier cursed under his breath as he picked up the phone, Steve and you looking over at him waiting to see who he was calling. You had a suspicion but you needed a confirmation.

He was stressed out, you knew because he would take longer drags of his cigarette when he was unhappy. The smoke left his mouth as he replied in Spanish into the phone.

“¿Tina? Soy yo, Javier. ¿Qué tal las diez esta noche?” (Tina? It's me, Javier. How's ten tonight?)

Murphy looked at you in awe. He couldn’t believe you had convinced Javi to do this. His eyebrows were raised and he forced his mouth to remain shut before he could say something stupid.

Javier put the phone back on the hook before looking at you. “Ten tonight.” He said emotionless. He stood up from his chair and walked out of the room.

“You’re a crazy bitch, you know that?” Steve asked, looking at you. It wasn’t judgmental when he said it. He understood completely why you did this, he felt just as strongly about Pablo as you. However, he would’ve never asked his wife to sleep with someone for intel. You had taken this desire to a different level and he wasn’t sure if that was the most positive thing.

You were in Murphy’s apartment by now, a request made by Javier. He didn’t want you to be alone as this happened tonight, but you almost found yourself wishing you were. You sat on the couch uncomfortable with the thoughts looming in your mind

You recalled the conversation you had with Javi before you had left. He asked if you were sure about this several times, and you continuously said it was for the better good. You needed information and if that meant going behind the government’s back and working some magic, you considered it done. Javier was uneasy though. And that made you sit down to reflect on it all.

Had you taken this too far? Your boyfriend was downstairs fucking a woman named Tina… and you were the one who made it happen. He had done all of this before, when the two of you were simply coworkers you knew he fucked them for information. Why did it feel so much worse now though?

What if this changed your relationship? What if this reminded Javier why he didn’t want to be in a relationship in the past? What if she was better than you?

It all started to pile in. You felt a little queasy from the sudden rush of concern hitting you. You hardly noticed when the couch sunk next to you, it was Steve holding out a drink for you.

“I thought you could use this.” He commented and you noticed the beer in his hand. You mumbled a thanks before downing half of it. His hand patted your knee and you looked over at him.

“Do you think I made the wrong call?” You asked quietly. Worry starting to reveal itself in your eyes.

He looked at you and sighed, putting an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in. Steve was what you needed in a friend. He knew what you needed, when you needed it. He sorted out the few fights that happened between you and Peña. He was just an all around good guy.

“It wasn’t a call I would’ve made to be honest with you, (Y/N).” He sipped his beer and remained his stare ahead. You noticed Connie wasn’t around anymore, she must’ve gone off to bed early. You don’t even know why Steve stayed up to sit with you. Maybe he could see your self pity coming from a mile away before you did.

“Would it be horrible if I stormed down there right now?” You asked. He looked down at you and then finished his beer.

“Yeah, I’d say it’s probably already happening. Might as well just get the information at this point.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. You pondered it all for a minute. Do you just continue to let it all happen, or do you cut it off early? You sighed before downing the rest of the beer and handing the bottle to Steve.

“Another one?” You asked with a small smile. He nodded and understood, you’d need it tonight. He pulled himself from the couch and headed towards the fridge, what he didn’t know was you’d rush past him and out the apartment door the moment his back was turned against you.

You practically flew down the stairway, Steve close behind as he called your name frantically trying to get you to stop. You shoved the key into Javier’s doorway before nearly slamming the doorknob into the wall, screaming your head off as Steve came up behind you holding you from going in any further.

You were screaming something, it had all blanked out the moment Javier came from around the corner fully dressed and alone. “Hey, hey!” He yelled out grabbing your attention.

“Where is she?” You tried to catch your breath, Murphy still holding onto your arms not willing to let go in case you found the poor woman somewhere.

“She left. I couldn’t… nothing happened.” He commented quietly. He nodded to Steve to let go. “Goodnight Murphy,” Javier commented, walking him to the door before shutting it.

“Nothing happened?” You asked, confused. Javier was exactly as you left him. His hair still in the same position as before, his clothes not wrinkled in the slightest. He shook his head and pulled you by the arm to the couch.

“I couldn’t do it. I kissed her, and I just couldn’t do it.” He looked at you. His eyes were troubled and concerned, with a touch of disappointment. You found yourself relieved. How could you almost risk your relationship for fucking Pablo, hasn’t he ruined enough?

“I’m sorry, I just freaked out.” You whisper placing your face in your hands. He pulled you into his embrace instead, holding onto you as if you would keep him grounded into reality. He placed a kiss against your neck. A habit he started to do whenever work emotionally exhausted you.

“I’m never asking something like this from you again, I swear. I can’t imagine you with another woman.”

“Good because I can’t imagine myself with another woman either.” He chuckled but there was seriousness behind his words. He pulled you to face him before a quick kiss.

“I love you.”

The words were sweet to your ears. He had only said those words once when you were hurt during a chase, but it was something he was incredibly reserved to say.

“I love you too.” You smiled at him, your hands finding their way to hold his face. He was such a rough man. Hardened by his job, but something about you softened him. You let out a small laugh “Murphy’s right… you’re whipped.”

“Cállate, Cariño.” (Shut up, darling) He mumbled against your lips.

#Javier Peña #Javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #Javier Pena fanfic #Narcos fanfic #Pedro pascal fanfic #narcos #Pedro Pascal

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pigeonp0st · 4 years ago

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Oh you could write one where reader and Supergirl are fighting together against some supervillain and reader gets hurt and almost dies and Kara is freaking out because she can't lose her girlfriend and just... angst (please don't kill reader though, i'm begging you)

Kara Danvers x Reader #5

Words: 1,905

Warnings: Angst, Explosion not described in detail. Just an aftermath.

Notes:

MWHAHAHA! I technically didn’t listen to your plead...so i’m sorry? (Thank you for the request and sorry for all spelling mistakes)

——

They were kids.

You weren’t bulletproof like Kara, definitely not grenade proof, you knew that...but they were kids. Kids clutching onto their mom looking terrified. Terrified that their mom would get hurt, terrified that the three of them were going to die.

You’re terrified too. Lately as your life has gotten better with Kara, beautiful, caring Kara, you’ve been getting more scared everyday, scared that something was going to happen to ruin your happiness.

The fear is almost enough to paralyze you when you see the latest National City supervillain get ready to throw the grenade, but alas...when the man throws the grenade the stupid instinct to protect overtakes you and you jump into the air to catch it like a ball, before it can get to close to the family.

You’re more invincible than them, even if you’re not nearly as invincible as Kara...it’s time to test that theory, you think bitterly.

Turns out—when the grenade goes off and a piercing scream hits the air—you’re not that much more invincible than a regular human.

Kara, you think, tears running down your face, Kara, Kara, Kara. Kara. Everything hurts but all you can think about is Kara and whether or not she’s going to be okay fighting without you. Forever, possibly. Fighting without you forever, and just thinking about your death feels like ice water being poured over you until the cold sinks in and it’s just panic.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It takes moments before she’s by your side, moments that feel like a lifetime, she was slowed by the kryptonite she was fighting against and wasn’t able to get to you in time when the grenade went off but now she’s here, and she’s sobbing. Sobs that wrack her body, and you’re trying to sit up despite the ringing in your ear.

“Kara!” You yell, eyes wide, and you don’t want to be doing this to her, you want to pretend like you’re okay with this—you want to be strong for her—but you can’t. You can’t, because holy fuck. Fuck. “I can’t feel my legs, Kara. Baby, I can’t feel anything. I can’t...why can’t I move?”

Kara places a hand on your chest, and you can feel that, it hurts, “Alex,” she says into the comms, “it’s Y/N...she’s badly injured. I can’t bring her to the DEO, I can’t fly; the kryptonite is still in the air around us, and I can’t move her away from it either.”

You hear Kara’s panicked voice next to you, and when you focus you hear it in your own comms.

Alex’s voice crackles through immediately, and even she sounds scared, “how bad, Kara?”

“She says she can’t feel her legs, and she...she’s losing a lot of blood. She’s cold, too, and her breathing is labored,” Kara’s practically ranting now, her fingers shaking against your chest. “I’d put pressure on the wound but there’s a lot of blood and I don’t know—”

You turn your face away from Kara when her hand travels to your cheek, and you try to tune her out, because her face...it really says everything about your condition, and you don’t want to hear Kara talk about all of the ways you’re dying.

You catch the last thing Alex says and it fills you with dread that makes your bones feel even heavier, “keep her awake, Kara. There’s no telling if she’ll wake up again if she falls asleep now.”

Kara’s resulting sob rips your heart to shreds.

“I didn’t realize until I met you how much I don’t want to die,” you tell her after a moment filled with her cries. You’ve never felt so scared in your life (besides after Kara’s fight with Reign) “but I really don’t want to, Kara. I really don’t want to.”

“You won’t,” Kara says, trying to give you a reassuring smile, “you won’t because I need you to stay. What am I supposed to do without you?” She tries to laugh afterwards but it’s really just a choked sound, and you can hear the fear in her words.

The iron taste that was on your tongue felt like death, but now as you slowly start to taste it less, and as the smell of gasoline slowly slips away, you wonder if this is really a sign of death. The reapers signature.

“You’ll live.” You say, “you have to. There’s no other choice.” Your voice is filled with too much certainty for a dying woman, “It’ll be fine. You’ll get to eat the last popsicle in the fridge,” a humorless chuckle forces its way out of your throat, “I hid it. It’s under the frozen peas.”

You can tell by the look on Kara’s face what she’s thinking about. A half empty bed when she goes home alone to your shared apartment, your favorite mug sitting on the counter half full of cold coffee, your dishes still in her sink—your sink—your clothes in the washing machine, your…

“I can’t,” Kara whispers, her voice filled with the amount of sorrow only she can manage, “I can’t lose two of my worlds. I’m not strong enough.”

Kara Zor-El not being strong enough. It’s a humorous thought. You know Kara will fight, she’ll fight because it’s all she knows. She’ll find her reason. She won’t give up on the world, even if she gives up on herself for some time. It’s the one thing you need to be sure of right now.

“Yeah you are,” you mumble, trying to lift your shaky hand to cup her cheek. She grabs a hold of your hand and helps you to your destination. You try not to scream curses at the world at the sight of your blood on her pale cheek. “You, Kara Danvers, are an anomaly in the way you never let anything knock you down.”

“This is enough,” Kara promises, and it’s the last promise you’d ever want to hear from her, “you’re enough to ruin me.”

“Kara,” you whisper, hating the world so furiously in that moment for all it wants to take. “That’s the last thing I want to hear...I only ever want to build you up.”

“And you do,” Kara says, “but love really does both, doesn’t it? Sometimes it hurts as much as it heals.”

“That isn’t fair,” you whimper out, and Kara nods against your hand, closing her eyes and trying not to breathe in the smell of your blood.

Moments later Kara opens her eyes in a panic after realizing that you haven’t spoken, only to see you trying to blink your eyes awake. She squeezes your hand repeatedly, trying to get your attention. “Y/N, it’s not time.” She tells you desperately, “it’s not time.”

One of her tears fall against your cheek, causing you to pout. “Stop crying,” you slur, delirious from the blood loss, “I resent it when you cry because of me.”

Kara shakes her head, only crying harder.

You smile up at her sadly, “I'm sorry i’m dying.” And you mean it.

“Stop saying that,” Kara pleads, like it’s breaking her, “stop.”

You wish you could give Kara what she wants but your eyelids are getting heavier and heavier and you don’t think you have much time. “Just tell Alex to name a kid after me, or at least tell her to name a fish after me.”

Kara’s shaking her head and shaking your arm, trying to get you to open your eyes again, “Y/N! Hey! Stop, come on, baby, just open your eyes…”

You try, you really do, you’ve never tried so hard to listen before, and it works for a moment, just for a second you manage to open your eyes, much to Kara’s relief, and that’s when you finally notice a crowd of people and a slumped alien (the man you two were fighting) a little ways behind you and Kara. When did Kara do that to him? When did the people come?

It’s when you see Alex though, rushing out of a black van, that you feel some sort of relief. Alex will protect Kara when you’re gone. You’re sure of it.

—

“Wake up! Wake up,” Kara sobs, “Alex, Alex—please, she’s not—”

—

“She died, Kara, in the van, we managed to bring her back...but things are looking uncertain right now. For now, the best thing you can do is look after yourself”

Kara’s glowing red eyes snap up from the floor towards Alex. Her powers have been going haywire since they arrived at the DEO. “Save her,” Kara pleads, voice hoarse from crying. “Please.”

—

It’s late at night after Kara hears your heart stop (the second time) that she gets placed in kryptonite handcuffs.

Alex doesn’t want to do it but Kara isn’t in control of her powers anymore, and she almost seriously hurt someone. Multiple times.

Kara doesn’t leave your side after they get your heart going again, she can’t hear your heart with the kryptonite on so the only thing she can take comfort in is the beeping of your heart monitor.

—

You wake up two weeks after your accident.

Kara’s asleep next to you when you do.

You’re confused and thirsty so it takes you several long moments for you to remember what happened, and once you do you’re sobbing hard, crying loud enough to startle awake a sleeping Kara.

She freezes when she sees you, you’re curled up in the hospital bed and shaking with your relief and the leftover fear, and she’s watching you like she doesn’t know what to do now that you’re awake.

She’s been praying for this moment, imagining it, waiting for it day after day, minute after minute, second after second, but now that it’s actually happened she’s paralyzed with her overwhelming emotions.

“Y/N?” Kara stutters, eyes filling with her own tears of relief.

You laugh at Kara’s face, loud and completely joyful, and suddenly she’s sobbing too, grinning all the while, because you’re here—finally— you’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay, and you’re laughing, and the world is finally okay again too.

“Damn, weren’t we dramatic?” You smirk, paying no mind to the tears running down your or her face.

Kara laughs, pulling you into a careful hug (she got her handcuffs taken off only a day ago). “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you whisper back, tightening your hold on Kara as much as you can and simply breathing her in. Breathing life in.

“I feel like i’m dreaming,” Kara says after a while, voice trembling. You feel like you're dead...and like you're in heaven. Is this heaven?

“You aren’t,” you reassure Kara anyways.

She nods against your shoulder, shaking even harder than you were. “Are you okay?” You ask worriedly.

“you’re the one who had to go and die two times.”

“Nearly three times,” Alex says from the doorway.

You notice Kara tense and shift in front of you until she realizes it’s just Alex, and you think that’ll probably be something you two will have to talk about, but for now you roll your eyes at Alex and say, much to both Kara’s and her amusement; “the only reason you tried so hard to save me is because you didn’t want to name your kid after me, isn’t it?”

Alex’s shrug and “maybe” gets a glare from Kara and a smirk from you.

#kara danvers x reader #supergirl x reader #supergirl imagine #kara danvers imagine #kara zor el x reader #kara zor el imagine #fem reader #supergirl #kara danvers #kara zor el #alex danvers #dc x reader #kara x reader

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allegra-writes · 4 years ago

Text

“About you”

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

General audiences

Warnings: None

You and Tom have been friends for a while, and even though you have a huge crush on him, nothing’s ever going to happen between you. You would know, you tried. He just doesn’t see you that way. Or does he?

“Maybe if I ask you why don’t tell me, I won’t try hard enough…

I refuse to give it up, my lady”

About you - Hola a todo el mundo

MY MASTERLIST

‘Hurry up, y/n, we’re gonna be late’ Your best friend, Mary, pulled out your earbuds, effectively pulling you out of your musings.

'I’m coming, I’m coming!’ You replied, walking faster after her. You ajusted your earpods and your coat firmer around you, not that it did any good. Why did you decide to wear a dress on such a cold night? Probably for the same reason you had accepted to go out on the first place. That reason was currently standing just a few yards away from you, waiting for you girls outside the station and looking down at his phone: Tom William Perfect Hiddleston. Blonde hair, dreamy eyes and a smile that could melt glaciers. Always kind, always funny, always dangerously charming. He looked up and met your eyes, and that aforementioned smile took over his face, warming you up inside. Huh. Seemed you were right about those glaciers after all. Feeling the heath creep up your cheeks, you couldn’t help to smile back.

'Seb! Oh my gosh it’s so good to see you! We missed you so much!’ You heard Mary say and took your eyes off of Tom’s. Seb, Tasha and Nick, the rest of your group of friends, were already there as well. Apparently you had been too busy staring at Tom to notice. You wished you could say that had never happened before, but sadly it was quite a common occurrence.

'Seb, you look great. New York did you good!’ You stood on your tip toes to be able to hug your much taller friend.

'Darling, you look gorgeous as ever!’, Seb replied, holding you tight to him. Over his shoulder you thought you saw a flash of something crossing Tom’s face, but it was gone as soon as it got there and you wondered if maybe it was just your overactive imagination, always looking for signs that weren’t there.

'Well well, that’s enough, let her go, you’re going to end up smothering her’ Tom reproached jokingly, placing a hand on Seb’s right shoulder and he let go of you.

'Ok, now that everyone has had their fill of dear Sebastian here’, Mary suggested 'what do you guys say if we actually get into the underground station so we can get going and maybe make it to the play on time for a change?’

You did exactly that and soon the six of you were packed into a carriage full of people. Mary and you got seats and Seb stayed close to you, but Tom and Nick ended up on the other side of the coach. You weren’t sure where Tasha was. You turned up your music but after a couple of minutes, Mary was tugging at your earphones one more time.

'Tom is staring at you’, She whispered conspiratiorially, 'Again.’

'You’re delusional’ You replied without lifting your eyes.

'I am not such thing!’, Mary insisted 'Why do you think he’s even here, taking the tube with us? He does have a car, you know’

You made a face, you hated that car. It was ostentatious and flashy and always calling the wrong kind of attention. Namely, the attention of shallow and plastic looking women who threw themselves at the car’s owner. But then again, as far as you knew, he maybe even enjoyed that.

'Maybe he feels like drinking tonight and doesn’t want to have to worry about driving’ Was your nonchalant response.

'Oh, please! He never drinks. Not more than exactly one beer.’

'Maybe he will tonight!’

'That’s not it and you know it! Sebastian, back me up here!’

'Oh, would you look at that! Tash has found a seat. I’ll go ask her if I can sit on her lap’ And with that, he was gone.

’… Coward.’

'Seriously, Mary, would you just let it go? Please?’ You pleaded, resting your head on the cold glass of the window, felling suddenly very tired.

'Ok, hun, this isn’t like you. Tell me what is going on?’

'Just drop it, please. He doesn’t like me that way,’ you said weakly, trying not to let the hurt show in your voice.

'And how would you know that?’

You finally took your earphones off and turned to face her.

'Because,’ You looked at your best friend in the eyes and confessed 'I have already asked him out’

Her face immediately fell and for the first time, she was left without words. It took a few moments for her to ask, really softly,

'And he said no?’

'He said yes’

’…I’m sorry, I’m not sure I’m following, you’re going to have to explain’

You sight deeply, you didn’t really wanted to remember that night. The memory of it still brought tears to your eyes. However, you swallow hard and tried to relate your story through the knot in your throat.

'Remember that night last summer when I dragged you guys to see that band with me, Louden Swain?’

'The one with the hot singer, yeah.’

You shook your head. Trust Mary to forget what she had eaten for dinner, but to recall the hot musician from three months ago.

'Anyway, remember how you guys all had something to do the next day, because it was Thursday night and you all left as soon as the show was over?’

You waited for her to nod before you went on 'Well, Tom and I stayed behind, so I ask him if he would like to have a beer with me. And we went to a pub near by…’ You trailed off remembering that night, how Tom would throw his head back laughing at something you said and everything felt just so natural, so easy.

'And? What happened then?’ Mary urged you on.

'We talked, we laughed, we had a nice time. It was… Just like we always are. He was my friend Tom. He didn’t flirt. He never tried to make a move.

“He’s Tom, he’s shy! And he’s a gentleman, he wouldn’t try to…’

'Mary,’ you cut her off 'I’ve seen him with women, being all smooth talk and debonair. He just wasn’t like that with me. After the pub, he walked me home and when we got to the door, he hugged me goodnight. He hugged me’

You sighed deeply, and blinked hard trying to get rid of the sting in your eyes.

'Maybe he got nervous…’ But she sounded unsure. You looked at her, trying to will her to understand. You wished for the thousand time you were like her, guys just seemed to gravitate towards her wherever she went. And why wouldn’t they? She was beautiful, funny and moved with confidence, always knew what to wear or how to do her make up. You weren’t like that at all.

She fell silent after that and eventually, you pulled your phone out to turn your music on again, but found you had a new text from Seb.

She’s right tho, you know

It was all it said. You turned around looking for him and finally spotted him a couple seats farther back, with Tasha firmly on his lap, seemingly completely at home there.

What do you mean?

You sent to him. A few seconds later, your phone chimed again with his reply.

Tom has a crush on you

You stared at those six words an embarrassingly long time before your brain started working again. When it did, you typed,

Not you too. It’s not like that. You guys just don’t know.

This time, his response took a little longer to arrive.

About the time you guys went out after that show and how he froze and didn’t kiss you at the door when he should have? Yes I know, he told me everything about it. In. Excruciating. Detail. And about how you didn’t call him the next day or the day after. He sulked 'bout it for weeks.

Seb was still typing when you interrupted the rest of his tirade with

I thought the guy was supposed to do that

He started typing again and soon you got another text, this one exasperated.

ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS?? For all your talk about feminism and equality and empowerment he thought if you still liked him YOU would call HIM. He thinks you friendzoned him that night.

Your obnoxious answer was

He never made a move

You looked over at Seb just in time to see him rub his face with his hand in frustration before texting

Not every guy needs to go for the kill on the first date you know? Some of them actually care about more than sex. There are some gentleman left out there.

You caught his eye as he placed his big hand on Tasha’s naked tigh. He winked at you and sent

Not me, tho. I’m a pig

That made you laugh out loud.

You looked out the window and saw there was only two more stations left before Picadilly. You were almost there. Your phone ringed with another text from Seb again.

Go on, you. Prove me wrong. Ask him out.

You bit your lip and looked at Tom, apparently deep in conversation with Nick. Not even the ugly fluorescent lights from the tube could make him look bad. It was unfair, really. You took a deep breath and before you got nervous and changed your mind you text him

Wanna do something together after the play?

You saw as he felt his phone vibrate and opened your text. His face lit up with the big, boyish smile that you adored. He bit his own lip and raised his eyes to meet yours through the crowded carriage and as his expression softened you were finally sure that your friends had been right all along. Because he was looking at you like you were everything that existed in that moment. There was no carriage, no crowd, not anything. It was just the two of you.

Anything you want, I’m yours

A text message wasn’t supposed to leave you breathless. But sure damn it did.Not to be bested, you sent back

What I want is for you to kiss me goodnight this time

There. There was no mistaking now, that wasn’t a "you’re my friend” kind of text. You literally couldn’t make it any clearer to him.

The train came to a stop and you had to get off, so he couldn’t answer. But as soon as you reached the stairs, you felt him entwine his fingers with yours.

And as soon as you got out the station and into the street, you felt him tug on your hand hard, making you turn around and crash into his waiting mouth. That’s when the world really stoped. That’s when everything truly disappeared. The dark, loud, bussy streets suddenly went pitch black and silent.

It was as if you had never been kissed before. As if you had never felt soft lips pressing on yours, nibbling them, coaxing them open, warm breath mixing with yours, big hands cupping your cheeks carefully, delicately, a tentative tongue licking your parted lips… All too soon it was over, but he didn’t let go of you just yet, and you didn’t try to get away. It was like gravity, there was no resisting it. He finally rested his forehead on yours and whispered against your mouth

'How about I just kiss you hello?’

The end.

This was the very first fice I ever wrote, back in 2018 and I realized I never posted here. Such a trip through memory lane! i hope you didn’t find this too cringey, cuz it will always hold a special place in my heart💖

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddlestone fanfictiom #loki #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki fanfiction

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notquitecanon · 5 years ago

Note

Steven Hyde being readers date to a wedding?

Did someone say FakeDate!Au?? No? Just me? Great, here I go!

_________

4 Things Steven Hyde Agreed To & 1 He Didn’t

1.) Photos

“There’s not much you have to do, it’ll be really fun!” You promised after Hyde gave into your begging, “First, we’ll pose for photos together since I’m in the bridal party.”

Hyde begrudgingly tucked his shades into his suit pocket before wrapping an arm around your waist. The hand on your hip made you blush, but you didn’t dare squirm away- this needed to look real so your family would stop playing matchmaker. Instead, you leaned closer into his touch as you grinned at the photographer.

After said photographer waved you on, you groaned in frustration as you readjusted the bridesmaid dress- which in your opinion? hideous. Frowning you looked to Hyde who was already slipping his sunglasses back on, “I hate this dress, literally no one could make this good.”

Hyde spared you a glance before looking away again, clearing his throat before murmuring, “You do.”

“Oh.”

2.) Convince the Family

“Tell my family we’re together so they’ll quit setting me up on terrible blind dates- and make it convincing.”

“So Steve,” Your Aunt smiled and you saw Hyde flinch at the misnomer, “Where’d you meet our (Y/N)?”

You tried to hide your nervousness- you hadn’t thought to create a backstory. Nevertheless, Steven took it in stride as he wrapped an arm around your waist and squeezed you closer with a large smile that was almost unsettling on him- you wish he’d go back to his classic smirk or smug grin.

“It started when she transferred to Point Place, our friend Donna was the one to show her around- but I wasn’t actually at school that day, but later that afternoon- Donna brought her by to hang out.” He paused to throw you on an over-exaggerated smile before his expression softened, “Well, she basically fell through the door, laughing at something Donna said so hard that she doubled over. That’s when I knew I had to make her my girl.”

That was what happened the first time you met Hyde- he left out the part where you fell forward and your chest went straight into Fez’s chest. The boy was so delirious with excitement that he fainted on the spot. Fez still got flustered if you wore a V-neck. Hyde had told the story a million times, but never with that tone of voice or with that last part- obviously a lie for your act, but damn was he convincing. He left all your Auntie’s and cousins (and you) giggly as they continued quizzing him. Every question was answered with an eerily honest tone.

All you could do was stare up at him as you listened- your soft smile wasn’t act and neither were the butterflies.

3.) Dancing

“Dance a little, in front of the photographer specifically so I have photographic evidence to remind my family with.”

You almost forgot how good of a dancer Hyde was. And how good of an actor, apparently. Maybe it was the drinks the two of you had been sneaking from the open bar, maybe it was the music or his cologne, or maybe it was just how close he was holding you as he swayed and spun you- occasionally moving in front of the wedding photographer, just as you’d instructed him- but he was making it really easy to forget this was just an act.

As a Sinatra song faded out (which Hyde strangely knew every word of) an ABBA song began- I’ve Been Waiting For You, you recognized. Knowing his stance on Disco, you tried to step back with a smile, “I know how you feel about ABBA, so we can stop now.”

To your surprise, his grip on your waist stayed firm and his gaze soft, “No, no. I don’t mind. This is nice.”

“Oh,” You nodded in shock as you settled back into the swaying motion, head on his chest to hid the creeping blush on your cheeks as the chorus played through. You thrill me, you delight me, you please me, you excite me, your something I’ve pleading for, I love you, I adore you, I lay my life before you, I only want you more and more, And finally it seems, my lonely days are through, I’ve been waiting for you. “This is nice.”

And that’s how you stayed until the DJ packed up.

4.) Chauffeur

“And lastly, we leave together.”

Before hitting the dance floor, Hyde switched to coffee so he’d be good to drive- so when the DJ finally shut down the music, he escorted you to the car after the newlyweds had their send-off. Still the perfect gentleman, he draped his jacket over your shoulders and even letting you laugh at the magenta lipstick stain your grandmother had left on his cheek.

After you’d slid into the El Camino, he shut the door behind you before settling into the driver's seat. Still giggling, you offered him a handful of napkins from the glove box- falling back into full laughter when he furiously scrubbed at the magenta lip mark (it didn’t even go away, just smudged the color around further). Rooting around in your purse, you victoriously produced a wet wipe which he snatched quickly.

“We never speak of this.” He warned as the stain slowly faded, tossing the trash in the back before cranking the car. The engine roared to life, almost drowning out your laughter as he stared at you expectantly.

“Fine, fine.” You giggled, offering your pinky. Steven shook it with such seriousness before finally pulling out of the venue’s lot. Besides the Pink Floyd playing in the background, the ride was comfortably silent until he pulled onto a highway. Looking over to him, you offered a sweet smile, “Thanks again for doing this- I know it was kind of ridiculous. But I actually had a really enjoyed myself.”

“Don’t mention it. Open bar, free food, only one ABBA song, and a chance to lie to multiple adults.” He smirked, eyes on the road as they turned mischievous, “Besides, no need to thank me. Your gran showed me your baby pictures that she keeps in her purse. Thanks is good for the night, baby picture blackmail is good forever.”

Playfully, you smacked his shoulder while he laughed at your embarrassment, “Steven, your cheek is still stained magenta, and I will tell Kelso you can sing Sinatra.”

He held his hands up in surrender, and you sighed as you settled back into your seat. There was a pause before you looked over to him, he was staring back- near immediately dissolving into a fit of giggles while he just chuckled putting his attention back on the road. Clearing your throat, “Blackmail or not, I really appreciate you wasting your Saturday night to go to a lame wedding with me.”

“I didn’t waste my Saturday. Being there with you- wasn’t terrible. There were parts that I’d even say I was having a good time.” He admitted a small smile as he looked over to you before continuing, “Besides, my other options were sitting in the basement with Kelso, Jackie, and Fez- and Fez just found out about threeways.”

You laughed and nodded, a weird sense of pride that he’d had a good time on your fake date.

5.) Unplanned

“And then once you drop me off, the minute I’m out of the car, we can forget it ever happened. Sound good?” You asked. Hyde shook his head, puffing up to argue before catching a glimpse of the flash of disappointment.

“...Fine.”

The rest of the drive home was wonderful- the two of you laughed until your sides hurt, stopped at a 24-hour diner for fries, pie, and a milkshake, and narrowly avoided a speeding ticket. But the night was quickly coming to an end as the Camino rolled onto your street. Chewing your lip, you looked to Steven, “Let’s make a block.”

He seemed to catch your drift, rolling past your house and back onto the main road. Making a block turned into another bout of just driving around- laughing about everything, talking about everything, and even just singing along to whatever music Steven would put on. This lasted until you could barely keep your eyes open and even Hyde was yawning between sentences. When your head slumped against the window, that’s when he shook his head, “Alright, time for home.”

He continued through your protests, “Yeah if I get pulled over with unconscious teenager in a formal dress on dark backroads- they’ll call me a cult leader. And the last thing I need is the cops paying more attention to me.”

Sighing, you nodded- giggling at the thought of Hyde starting a cult, good lord they’d smoke so much weed. Nevertheless, you decided to test the waters by letting your head fall to his shoulder. He tensed before relaxing, but didn’t say anything or shake you off. Content, that’s how you stayed for the rest of the ride.

Shortly thereafter, the engine hummed as Hyde put it in park in your driveway. He moved to get out to open the door for you, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out and stopped him.

Hyde’s eyes flicked between your eyes and the grip you had on the sleeve of his shirt, waiting expectantly as you just stared back lamely while chewing your lip, finally, you stammered out, “Still in the car, nights not over yet.”

“Yeah, that was the deal…” He nodded slowly, settling back into the driver's seat as he watched you curiously, wondering what you’d do next- you weren’t sure yourself, but you had a few ideas.

“Well, that means, for the moment, you’re still my boyfriend for the moment.” You stated, taking a short breath while your eyes flicked to his lips, “So…”

Before you could chicken out, you rushed forward, pulling him to you by his shirt collar. He was shocked at first but reacted rather quickly to your lips on his. Tentatively, his hand cupped your cheek and the other rested on your thigh while you kept your hands on his chest. The kiss was exploratory, slow and curious and sweet- you could taste the mint on him from his ever-present chewing gum and he could still taste the salt on your lips from the fries earlier in the night. After a minute, you realized you needed to explain yourself- or at least come up with an excuse that could salvage your friendship if need be- so you pulled away, “I know that wasn’t part of the deal, but I really didn’t want this night to end.”

He didn’t answer, breath still heavy as he stared at your lips, eyebrows furrowed. You interpreted his silence as a sign that you crossed a line so with a rushed, whispered apology you fled the car before anything else could be said or done. It wasn’t until the passenger door slammed shut that Steven snapped back to reality; realizing his pause probably sent the wrong signal he cursed under his breath as he scrambled out after you, “(Y/N), wa-“

Arms crossed tightly over your chest, you swiftly interrupted him to save yourself from embarrassment, “Hyde, we don’t have to do this.”

You emphasized “this” by gesturing back and forth between the two of you before continuing while Hyde, “You did everything I asked, and now you’ve dropped me off, which according to the deal means you don’t have to pretend to like me-“

Hyde stepped forwards drawing out your sentence, but it didn’t stop you from finishing, creating an odd cacophony of words.

“We can just forget this whole fake date and everything that happened.”

“Can we just forget about the stupid deal for a second?!”

He did that thing where he made his voice harsh just to command attention, it always worked. The “master of zen” rarely raised his voice (unless it was to yell at Kelso and Fez), so his raised voice always turned heads. In fact, his harsh tone stopped you dead in your tracks in your march towards your front door. Forget about the deal- did that mean…?

After you’d frozen, he easily caught up to you, fingers barely brushing yours, “What if I don’t want to forget?”

He watched your expression very carefully as he continued, “The only thing I was pretending was that I was faking it.. well and I pretended to list to your uncle, but that was- never mind-“

“No one could make this look go.” “You do.”

“That’s when I knew I had to make her my girl.”

“No, no, I don’t mind, this is nice.”

“Being there with you wasn’t terrible.”

Reaching up, Steven tenderly tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, “(Y/N), I didn’t want to pretend to be your boyfriend when you asked me because I’ve liked you since the day I met you.”

Butterflies had turned to the whole zoo as you just dumbly nodded up to him, cheeks so hot you were sure they were glowing, with nothing better to say you just muttered, “Then I guess tonight doesn’t have to be a fake date then.”

“Guess not, doll.” He smirked, “And as your real boyfriend, I reserve the right to do this.”

Without further warning, he raised your chin and leaned down, kissing you again. This time it was more confident, assured and lasted until your porch light flicked on- the silent sign that your dad was watching and expected you to be inside within the next minute. Hyde understood this too, and let you pull away, watching you enter your house.

Right before you walked in he called after you, “And if anyone asks- I kissed you first!”

#steven hyde x reader #hyde x reader #that 70s show imagine

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taurean-brat · 4 years ago

Text

Cafuné - Angel Reyes

Summary— Cafuné, an unique, untranslatable Afro-Brazilian Portuguese word meaning “to run your fingers through your lovers hair”. Angel x Spanish Speaking/Latina!Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, a little sad (?), mention of sexual situations, the grey sweats and shirtless Angel.

Final Word Count: 2.3K This was supposed to be something short. Like maybe 1K short. Smhh

A/N: Also this is not beta read. I wrote this cause it’s cloudy and cold out and I was listening to the song Cafuné by Micro TDH. It’s a very beautiful song and one of my favorites for when I’m in one of these moods with a candle lit and the room dark and Now I wish I was being held, but sadly I ain’t got a man.

_______________________________________________

The moment you opened your eyes, the grey and cloudy light flooding your room through your slightly open curtains, you knew what kind of day was in store for you and wanted nothing more than to just wish you hadn’t woken up. Or that you lived in an alternate reality… or something. You hated these gloomy, cloudy days for the feelings they elicited in you, and you knew it would only get worse as the day dragged on.

Days like this were rare for you, where you just wanted to be wrapped up tight in your mans arms and do nothing all day, the feelings of listlessness and overwhelming sadness being washed away just by knowing you were safe in those arms. But staring at the empty side of your bed where your husband slept, you knew it wasn’t happening.

Not because he wouldn’t drop everything to come home and be with you if you told him, but because you didn’t want to burden him with the neediness your emotions elicited in you.

With a sigh, you throw the covers off you, shivering at the cool December air, and just briefly you’re taken back to growing up in New York, where it was more than likely snowy and cold enough to freeze hell over.

The reminder just made it worse and with a groan, you pull yourself out of bed, making quick work of making the bed and then heading to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth, staring at your usually vibrant hazel green eyes look more of a glassy grayish blue.

Leaning over the sink, you stare closely at your reflection, your dark curls framing your face in the half up half down you’d thrown it in as they hell over your shoulder and down into the sink.

“Come on, Y/N, it’s just a few hours.” You say to yourself looking for the strong woman you usually see in your reflection and not the sad girl you’re not so used to seeing anymore. “Just throw on his favorite hoodie, some leggings, and wait a few hours. Then you can cuddle with Angel all that you want.”

And that’s exactly what you did. You made quit work of throwing on some pink fuzzy socks, black leggings and his favorite hoodie, which happened to be light pink color with a small red rose stitched over the heart and the words “almost dead” in black, gothic lettering across the top. It made you giddy every time he wore it, your giggling nonstop. It wasn’t because men wearing pink was wrong— if anything the fact he’s not afraid of wearing it just makes you love him all the more— but rather because your man, the badass, 6’3”, built as fuck biker can rock the color. And it did things to you.

Immediately, you felt somewhat better, just standing there inhaling the unmistakeable scent of him for a few minutes before you moved along to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee and eat the french toast you found covered on the counter, still warm and you wondered how you didn’t wake up at the smell. Just looking at it, you knew he’d made it exactly to your liking with extra cinnamon, and very obviously lots of powdered sugar.

Making quick work of eating your breakfast, and serving your coffee (two splashes of French vanilla creamer and three teas spoons of sugar), you washed your plate, putting it to dry and then grabbed your speaker off the table.

While you still wished you were in Angels arms, the simple gesture of him making you your favorite breakfast, warmed your heart, and you couldn’t resist sending him a text as soon as you sat down on the couch and turned the tv on:

To: Mi Santo Diablo:

Thank you for leaving me breakfast, Mi Rey. Te Amo hasta que no queden estrellas en el cielo.

You made quick work of taking a picture of your small smile, face half hidden in his hoodie and attaching it to the text before pressing send.

While waiting for a response you turned on your speaker, connected it to your phone and put on some upbeat Spanish music while you put on a show on mute in the background (a habit you’d picked up as a teenager so you wouldn’t feel so lonely while studying late at night). You’d started cleaning up as the music started. While it wasn’t something you wanted to do today, it was better to keep yourself busy than disappear into your mind.

You spent the next hour cleaning the kitchen, and moved on to vacuuming the rug in the living room when you heard your phone go off and you knew it was Angel, so you opened it quickly

From: Mi Santo Diablo:

You’re welcome, Mi Dulce. You deserved a day to sleep in. Yo también te amo. Hasta que el sol deje de arder.

You smiled and went to send a series of emojis when another text came in.

From: Mi Santo Diablo:

You look bella in my sweater, bebe. Can’t wait to have you in my arms.

You deleted the text you were gonna send and then proceeded to sending a few puppy eye emojis with some of the emoji with the floating hearts around the face, making use of the echo feature so it would fill up his screen. Before you went back to cleaning.

By the time you were done, cleaning, doing laundry, and putting said laundry away, the sun was starting to set and getting dark.

Walking back to the kitchen, you go about making vodka sauce and white rice to make penne ala vodka. Usually you’d wait for Angel, but you hadn’t eaten since breakfast since you skipped lunch. Plus, he called to say he’d be a bit late and to eat without him. And while you didn’t want to, and it made you frown, you did so because you’d likely pass out if you went any longer without eating.

You ate your food pretty quickly, as always when it was a pasta dish, setting some aside for Angel in the microwave and another one for him to take to the clubhouse tomorrow before putting the rest of it in the fridge and washing the dishes.

While still in the kitchen, you lit a few candles, setting one on the counter and taking the other with you to the coffee table in front of the couch as you watched the last rays of the sun disappear.

Sitting on the couch, you grabbed your phone off the table and lowered the music a bit so it wasn’t blaring so loudly the neighbors probably felt it in their bones. You found a not quite so upbeat song, but wasn’t so sad either. It just depended. It was one you’d found a few months back and you couldn’t help but falling in love with the lyrics.

Putting it on repeat you laid on the couch and just stared blankly at the fire, listening to the song, and singing along certain parts.

You were so caught up in just singing along quietly, staring at the fire of your candle, that you didn’t hear the door open and close behind you. Nor did you hear the footsteps walking towards the back of the couch nor feel the warm chocolate brown eyes staring you, full of love as you sighed and curled up a little more as the song restarted, putting your face deeper into the hoodie.

To Angel, it was cute finding you curled up on the couch in his clothes. Filled him with a lot more love than he thinks he’d ever be able to show you but he’d be damned if he didn’t try every now and then to do so. It also made him want to fuck you in them until you could only say his name and were creaming all over him

But seeing you now, curled up as small as you could make yourself and likely a hairsbreadth away from startle to cry, he knew that wasn’t what you needed, so before he did anything he walked back up to your room, changed out of his clothes and put on some grey sweats, forgoing the shirt.

It wasn’t long before he was standing in front of you, blocking your view of the candle and watching, slightly amused as you blinked and trailed your eyes up his legs, stopping briefly on his very obvious dick print before they trailed up his chest and then to his face before meeting his eyes.

“Move, I wanna lay down.” He says without much else, watching the small smile make its way to her face, likely about to say something, before he decided to make his way on to the couch. His girl was small, fun size, a huffing voice sounding very much like yours said in his head, and that made her easy to just pick up and carry around. So he did just that. Picked her up and then stretched himself out on the couch, before sitting her on top of him. The annoyed huff she let out was followed shortly by giggling

“Excuse me, I was laying there.” She says and he scoffs.

“Nah, mami, you were curled up like a little kitten.” He says and smirks, “Big difference.”

The pout on her face is cute and he can’t help but laugh, as he brings her down to place a kiss on her lips.

“Rude, mi amor. Very rude.” You says, quickly getting comfortable, hiding her face in his neck as his arms wrap around her in a tight embrace. And when he thinks you’re gonna be quiet, and just enjoy being in his arms, you lift your head up, eyes narrowed at him. “Also, who the fuck gave you permission to look like such a fucking thot, huh? Wearing my favorite grey sweats without my permission.”

It made him laugh, his arms tightening around you a little more but not enough to hurt you.

“Hush up, mi dulce, you Ain’t one to talk. Wearing them fucking leggings.” He’s quick to move his hands down to your tights clad ass and squeezing before he lands one hard smack on each cheek, causing you to yelp and then giggle as he brings his arms back around you rubbing up and down your back slightly before embracing you again.

“Alright, fair point.” You say, looking up at him, your eyes full of love, and if humanly possible you’d likely have hearts for pupils whenever you stared at him. You kiss at his neck and what you can reach of his jaw for a few before you just decide to lay there, the song once again restarting.

Angel lays there, just listening to you breath, feeling you inches arms, and he doesn’t know what he’d do without you, nor where he’d be. You were one of the few constants in his life. The one person he knew he could always count on to have his back and support him and he loved you for it. Always will. And hearing your even breathing on his neck, the small puffs of air warm against his neck only certified his resolve to make sure nothing ever happened to you, that he never did anything to hurt you. At least not intentionally. He knew he’d found forever with you. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Listening to the song playing, he sang along so quietly he doubted you could hear him, aware of your sleepy state:

Yo quisiera darte las constelaciones

Más millones de caricias en un manantial (yeh)

Si te fallo quiero que no me perdones (no)

Porque no mereces que nadie te trate mal

Tu presencia es necesaria por razones

Que hasta el sol de hoy no encuentro ni cómo explicar

Pero estoy agradecido por montones

Porque te encontré cuando no hallaba qué buscar

Tu cabello se posa sobre mi pecho

Y es valioso el hecho de sentirte respirar

Lo creas o no, me siento satisfecho

Pues, tú me mostraste lo importante que es amar

Tus ojos me reflejan el sentimiento

Justo en tus pupilas se deduce que es real (real)

Si no quieres decir nada dame un beso (dame un beso)

Y no me sueltes nunca más

Me siento fenomenal

Porque siento que es real

Listening to him sing the words so quietly, nearly sounding like a prayer to you, warmed your heart, and the tight feeling present in your chest from the moment you woke up seemed to just evaporate as you felt his arms tighten their hold on you, one arm staying around you and the other traveling up to card his fingers through your hair, his lips against the top of your head. And you couldn’t help yourself:

“Te amo, Angel Ignacio Reyes. Hoy y Para Siempre.” You said, with a slight squeeze of your own arms around him before you gave in to the tiredness you’d felt for hours now. Knowing you were safe.

Slipping away into unconsciousness, you smiled as you heard his reply.

“Te amo, Y/N Y/M/N Reyes. Hoy y Para Siempre.”

_______________________________________________

Tags: @calif0rnia-lovers I saw you post something about being tagged in anything involving hoodie szn or just hoodies in general I think @blessedboo @angelreyesgirl

Please lemme know if you want to be tagged(or if not)🥺🥺 also I hope you enjoy it!! Comments and creative criticism welcomed🥰🥰🥰

#mayans mc #mayans fandom #mayans mc fanfic #angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x oc #clayton cardenas #alright lemme disappear from here for abit #that fandom blog sounds like a good idea rn #hennyways enjoy #peace out #this is also getting posted to ao3

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snelbz · 4 years ago

Text

The Ranch {4}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @tacmc x @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty

Cassian rode until the sun had gone down, and after he had everything put away and Daisy was in her stall to rest for the night, he was crashing into his cabin, still filled with frustration and anger. Beau jumped off the recliner and met Cassian by the door, tail wagging.

After kicking off his muddy boots, Cassian grabbed the bottle of bourbon out of his fridge and slumped down into his recliner before putting the cool bottle to his lips.

As he was out riding Daisy, he felt guilty, at first, for the things he had said to Nesta in the kitchen. He hadn’t been fair, and he knew it. He was pissed, and felt stupid for the entire ordeal, and as usual, he had let out those feelings by way of smartass comments in hopes to get a rise out of her.

It had worked, of course, but a little too well. She had threatened to fire him. He, who had dedicated almost a decade to this ranch, who had put his heart and soul into everything he had done over the last eight years. He loved working the ranch, and she wanted to fire him? Why? Because what they had done was inappropriate.

It was utter bullshit.

They were both there that night, and she had wanted it every bit as much as he had. He remembered the fire, the longing, in her eyes, the soft whimpers escaping her lips as his tongue explored her body. He hadn’t imagined it. She wanted him, all of him, but then she left.

Inappropriate.

The word rang through him, repeated in his mind, like a fucking joke.

He grabbed his phone and called Azriel. It rang three times before his brother answered with a breathless, “Hello?”

Cassian gave a quick glance to the clock on the microwave, seeing it was 9:58 on a Saturday night. The one night that both Elain and Azriel are off work and together. And have given their families strict instructions not to call unless it was an emergency.

“Shit, fuck, it’s Saturday, y’all are- well, you know I know what you were doing, but I don’t want to say it because then I’ll think about it and-.”

“Cassian,” Azriel laughed, cutting him off. “I’m at the gym.” He laughed again as he heard Cass breath a sigh of relief, but explained before he could ask. “They needed El to work a double in the NICU today so she gets tomorrow off. So maybe don’t call tomorrow, yeah?”

He cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his neck. “Right, sorry about that. This would have been real awkward.”

Az snorted on the other end of the phone and the telltale echo Cass could hear in the background told him he’d made his way into the locker room. “Less awkward than that time you took a buckle bunny back to the room in Houston, didn’t tell me or Rhys, and we walked in right when you were about to-.”

“Okay, yes, less awkward than that,” Cass mumbled, all by himself, but still feeling the tips of his ears burn.

He could hear Azriel’s deep laughter on the other end of the phone and when he returned the phone to his ear, he asked, “So what’s got you so out of sorts that you called me on a Saturday night?”

Cassian debated on giving him a little bit of back story, but he’d seen how they were last night. Maybe Az could try and give him a little insight, since he had successfully figured out one of the Archeron sisters.

“I almost fucked Nesta last night.” There was absolute silence on the other end. Cassian pulled the phone from his ear to make sure he hadn't dropped the call somehow. “Az?”

“Rhys and I will be over in twenty.”

The line went dead and Cassian sighed, looking over at Beau. The pup ran over and licked Cassian’s outstretched hand as he said in a singsong voice, “Dad’s in trouble…”

Beau barked as if to say, Trust me, I know. And the pup’s following grin said, And I can’t wait to watch you get your ass handed to you.

Cassian sighed as he fell back in his recliner and waited - waited for his brothers to come give him hell.

Maybe he deserved hell.

He didn’t know.

He took another gulp from the bottle.

Beau jumped up on Cassian’s lap and Cassian let out a long string of curses as he almost spilled his bourbon. Beau was a massive puppy and didn’t understand that he wasn’t a lap dog anymore. Cass didn’t have the heart to tell him either.

Beau was still sprawled across Cassian’s lap, getting his belly rubbed, twenty minutes later, when the cabin door was thrown open.

Azriel was still dressed in his sweaty gym clothes. Cassian assumed he had stopped by to pick up Rhys on the way, who was wearing old sweatpants and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.

Beau hopped off Cassian, at last, to greet his uncles as Rhysand said, “Feyre says fuck you.”

Cassian blinked. “Wh- you told her?”

Rhysand shrugged, shutting the front door. “I had to let her know where I was going.”

Cassian groaned. “Couldn’t have said you were just coming over for a drink?”

Azriel chuckled as Rhysand said, “I could’ve, but then I couldn’t watch her kick your ass the next time she sees you.”

Cass leaned back in the recliner, covering his face with his hands. The words were muffled as he said, “She would have figured out a reason to anyways, she always does.”

He heard the couch next to him groan as one of his brothers sat down, but Rhys’ voice came from the kitchen when she replied. “Yeah, but now I don’t have to get my ass kicked when she finds out that I knew, and didn’t tell her.”

Cass moved his hands away to see Azriel shaking his head as he threw his sweaty tennis shoes across the room. Beau immediately chased them to the corner, but a whistle from Cassian had him begrudgingly trotting back to his place on the floor in front of the recliner. He flopped down with a huff.

Azriel, deciding to no longer beat around the bush, asked, “Dude, what the hell? You said you two couldn’t even be in the same room without wanting to scream at each other when you called me the day before yesterday.”

Cassian leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know, I just- she just gets under my skin.”

“She’s Nesta Archeron,” Rhysand announced, finally appearing from the small kitchen. There was a bottle of cheap whiskey in one hand and three glasses in the other. “The Cauldron made her with the sole purpose of getting under people’s skin.”

“Rhys,” Azriel warned.

He placed the contents on the small table between the couch and recliner and held up his hands in surrender. “Now, Cassian, because you’ve chosen to make yet another stupid decision, and because the three of us chose to make that stupid pact at seventeen-years-old, we’re here to be miserable with you.” He cracked the seal and put the plastic bottle of liquor to his lips, the burn of the alcohol damn near painful. He handed the bottle to Cass and he blew out a harsh breath and shook his head.

He happily took it and chugged much more than most humans typically would. When he put the bottle down and opened his eyes, Azriel and Rhysand were watching him.

Azriel let out a low whistle. “You’re in worse shape than I thought.”

“I talked to her about it this afternoon, too,” Cassian said, head already feeling light. “It didn’t go well.”

“Did you….expect it to?” Rhysand asked, brows raised as they passed around the bottle.

Cassian didn’t reply. He didn’t have a good answer. Yes, he had, but he wasn’t sure why.

“Well,” Azriel went on, clearing his throat. “We’re here to take your mind off of it.”

“Drink,” Rhysand said, handing the bottle to Cassian, once more. He did, but not quite as deeply as the first. “And start at the beginning.”

Cassian handed the bottle back to him. “You both may want to start drinking, too,” he said, closing his eyes and reclining back in the chair.

Rhys did as he was told, but Azriel asked, “And why’s that?”

“Because it all started with me walking into the kitchen in the main house to find her perky, little ass up in the air, in the tightest pair of jeans shorts I've ever seen, and ended with her legs wrapped around my waist and her tits in my mouth, against that wall.” Cassian gestured towards the doorway, eyes still closed.

He heard two more heavy swallows.

“I assume something happened between those two moments,” Azriel muttered.

Cassian kept his eyes closed as he said, “I blame the alcohol.”

“Bullshit,” Rhysand said, the couch creaking as he shifted his weight. “Your alcohol tolerance is impressive, to say the least.”

“We did run into each other, literally, after our shower yesterday afternoon,” Cassian muttered. “That didn’t help.”

A pause, then Azriel said, “Our? As in...together?”

Cassian opened his eyes just to roll them. “No. She was getting ready in the main house, too, I didn’t know.”

Rhysand gave him a knowing look.

“I didn’t know,” Cassian repeated, words clipped.

“Alright, alright,” Rhysand mumbled, laughing quietly as he took the bottle from Azriel. “Not to mention that you drove her to and from the bar last night.”

“We came back here, I invited her in,” he went on, taking the bottle from Rhysand and fiddling with the label. “We drank a little, got to know each other a little… She wanted it.”

“You think every woman wants to fuck you,” Rhysand said, as Cassian took a sip of whiskey.

He leaned forward, setting the bottle on the side table and rested his knees on his hands. “Yeah, well, when you’re playing Twenty Questions, and someone says ‘If given the chance, would you fuck me’, what the hell would you think?”

They were both quiet.

“She...asked you that?” Azriel asked, reaching across Rhys for the bottle.

“Swear on my mother’s grave.” Cassian stood up and began pacing in front of the television. “Gods, I tried to fucking not, too. I took the drink instead of answering the question and then I left her out here.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling it free from the tie it’d been in all day. “I went back into my room and I was going to let her leave and give her some bullshit story about getting sick or something this morning whenever I saw her.” He paused and looked over at that empty recliner, looked at where she’d been sitting just a night ago. “But then I thought, what if I don’t get this chance again? This woman, she’s all that I’ve thought about for the last three days and I just…”

Cassian trailed off and Azriel, without looking away from his brother, nudged Rhys’ arm. “I think we might need that second bottle you left out in the truck.”

“Yeah,” Rhysand said, blinking, before hauling ass out of the cabin. He came back a minute later, with an unopened bottle, as Cassian continued to pace in his little living room.

“Okay,” Rhysand said, settling back into the couch and twisting open the bottle. “Continue.”

Cassian sighed, running a hand, frustratingly, through his hair. “It got a little out of control, for a while...things were getting heated….really fucking heated. Then, she heard my phone vibrate, thanks to you assholes, and I wasn’t going to get it, because, obviously, my phone was the last thing on my mind, but then she kept telling me to answer the fucking phone, so I did.” The words rushed out of him, and as he took another step, he swayed, then cursed. “I looked at the texts, quickly, then when I looked over my shoulder, the front door was open and she was gone.”

“Shit,” Azriel muttered, Rhysand nodded. “She didn’t say anything?”

Cass scooped the near empty bottle from the table and slumped back into the chair. Beau sat up and rested his head on Cassian’s knee. He scratched behind his ear and shook his head, putting his lips to the bottle. He drained the rest of it.

“Should I offer you this before I ask how this morning went?” Rhys asked, extending his hand.

Cassian again shook his head, but stood up and made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a few bottled waters. Didn’t matter if he got shitfaced drunk tonight, he’d still have to be up with the sun to start his day. He sat back down and handed the other two bottles to his brothers.

“It wasn’t this morning, it was about, oh,” he glanced at the clock again. “Three hours ago, give or take.” He took a swig from the cool bottle and set it down. “I gave her space, all day, so she could come up with whatever excuse she wanted, and then when I finally run into her, she’s in this extravagant fucking kitchen, cooking the most delicious looking damn steak I’ve ever seen, and the sun was lighting up her eyes and…” Cass reached for the whiskey again. “She said, it was inappropriate.”

“So she apologized?” Azriel asked, clearly confused.

“Fuck, no, us, what we did, that was inappropriate.” Cassian sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “She says since she’s ‘technically my boss’, we can’t.”

A look of understanding passed between them both.

“What?” Cass asked, noticing the two of them.

“Absolutely not,” was all Azriel said, when Rhys turned to look at him.

Rhys said, “If he’s getting into this thing, he needs to-.”

“Okay, but he’s clearly not getting into it, since Nesta shut him down. I don’t know about you, but I like my balls being-.”

“Oh, shut up, you aren’t even engaged yet, you think you’ll have it bad?”

“Hey!” Cassian said, loudly. They both looked at him. “Someone wanna tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

Rhysand looked at Azriel. “You brought it up.”

“Fuck you,” he mumbled under his breath, but sighed and looked at Cass. “You didn’t hear this from us and if Elain or Feyre ask, you sure as shit didn’t hear this from us.” Cassian, eyebrows raised, nodded. Azriel looked at Rhys one more time and when he gestured for him to go on, Az sighed. “Nesta nearly got kicked out of the most prestigious culinary institute in France for having an affair with her instructor.”

Cassian stilled.

No one said a word as Cassian stared at Azriel. Even Beau could sense the tension, as he whined quietly, breaking the silence.

“Sorry, what?” Cassian asked, at last.

“Happened a few years ago, at the end of her final semester,” Azriel continued, slowly, cautiously. “She was of age, of course, and he was in his late-twenties. She was in love with him, apparently, but when the board found out...well, it didn’t go well. She had to beg and plead to be allowed to finish school and receive her diploma, and she obviously broke it off with the guy, too. And, considering you are technically under her employment…”

Cassian opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. It suddenly all made sense - at least, it made more sense than it had hours before.

And he had been a complete dick to her, then.

“Fuck,” Rhysand breathed, “you look like you’re about to puke.”

Azriel slowly rose to his feet and hurried into the kitchen. He came back to the living room with the garbage can, and tentatively set it down in front of Cassian.

Who still wasn’t saying a word.

“Dude, do you think you should-.”

The sound of retching is all that could be heard in the small cabin.

“Oh shit!” Rhys cried, jumping back into the seat Azriel had just vacated as Cassian emptied the contents of his stomach into the trash can.

He coughed, bracing his hands on the edges of the can. “I’m a piece of shit.”

Rhys mumbled, “Well…”

“Rhys, shut the fuck up.” Azriel said, and handed Cass his water bottle. “Cass, you’re not a piece of shit.”

He groaned, and fell down to the floor as he opened the water bottle and took slow sips.

He should go apologize to Nesta.

But he also knew he had no right to do so. Even if he tried, she probably wouldn’t give him the time of day.

And he didn’t blame her.

His head was pounding, his stomaching rolling. He closed his eyes and put his face into his hands.

“I need to go to bed,” he muttered, talking into his hands.

Azriel whistled for Beau, who was instantly by his side. He then walked to the front door and let the pup out for his last potty break of the night.

“Go get cleaned up. I’ll let Beau in and lock the door behind us.” Azriel leaned beside the wall next to the door and smiled.

Cassian nodded and stood, stumbling back toward the bathroom. He flipped Rhys off as he went.

The second he flipped on the bathroom light he cringed. His eyes were glazed, his eyelids heavy. After grabbing a rag and drenching it in water, he wiped off his face then brushed his teeth. As soon as he walked out into the hall and into his bedroom, he was falling into his bed. He could hear Beau running through the living room, his tail was wagging as he jumped up next to Cassian on his mattress.

Azriel was scolding Rhysand as they walked out. The last thing Cassian heard him say before they shut the front door was, Way to be a prick, dickwad.

Once Cassian was left alone in the silence, though, his guilt only worsened.

He laid there, listening to his ceiling fan rotate and running his hand down Beau’s belly, and he groaned.

He should text her, tell her that he was sorry for being a dick and-.

He didn’t even have her fucking number.

For a split second, he considered going to her house, apologizing, kissing her, he hadn’t decided yet. But then he realized what a stupid idea that was, and likely to get him fired.

So he laid there, room spinning around him as fast as the fan above him, and waited for the sunrise.

#the ranch nessian #shara collab #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #tacmc toab tag team #throne of ashes and beauty #tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty #nessian #theranchnessian #nesta archeron #cassian

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elentiyawhitethorn · 4 years ago

Text

Sneaking Around | Chapter Fourteen

The whole room went silent. Until Rowan hissed, “Manon, how could you?”

Aelin was torn between hugging him and punching him. She settled for a punch.

“Ow.”

“Don’t ‘ow’ me.” Aelin was in a rage. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me? And why couldn’t you ask me out three fucking years ago? We were never friends, it’s not like you could have messed anything up. Shit, I’m dating a godsdamn wimp. I knew it!”

Lysandra giggled. “Even I didn’t see this coming. Plot twist!”

Aedion had gone into an even further state of shock and was opening his mouth but no words were coming out.

“You’re coming with me,” Aelin nearly shouted, then grabbed Rowan’s arm once again and dragged him out of the room and into the hall bathroom, slamming the door behind them.

Rowan looked like a cornered animal. “I was going to tell you, it just never came up.”

“Mmhmm, sure you were.” Aelin was not buying it.

Rowan sighed. “I just felt a little... guilty.”

“Need I ask why?”

“It’s just, I kind of took advantage of you that night at the bar. Well, sort of. I mean, yeah, I was drunk, but I was in love with you and you weren’t and I lost my self-control and felt you up and shit happened and I knew better.” Rowan looked rather pathetic.

“Ro, maybe you should have told me first, but as you said, you were drunk. I’m not angry.”

“Then why were you shouting?”

Aelin smiled. “I’m not angry you hooked up with me, but I am enraged that you are such a fucking chicken. Don’t think I haven’t been noticing that recently, and then this? Don’t even get me started.”

Rowan leveled a glare at her. “You’re still a bitch.”

“A bitch that you love, apparently.”

Rowan smiled and traced his thumb over Aelin’s jaw. “I do.”

“Say it,” Aelin demanded.

“I love you.”

She smirked. “I am irresistible, aren’t I?”

“Way to ruin the moment,” Rowan muttered.

“I love you too.”

Rowan blinked. “Wait, you do?”

Aelin grinned. “I do. I came about that realization recently, and I’m telling you now because I am not a damned wuss. And my bravery better start rubbing off on you, or I might have to dump you.”

“I’d hardly call it bravery. I said it first.”

“No, Manon said it first.”

They both snorted. Aelin tilted her head up. She gently pressed a kiss to Rowan’s lips. He pulled her in for another, more desperate kiss, his tongue parting her lips.

“You better not be making out in there!” Lysandra’s voice drifted down the hallway.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Aelin yelled back. Rowan chuckled. She turned back to him. “Later, you are going to thoroughly make it up to me for being such a cowardly swine. Preferably with your tongue. Now, though, we are going to go back out there and have a good time.” With that, Aelin opened the bathroom door and barged out, Rowan behind her.

“Everything sorted?” Lysandra asked devilishly.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “You are such a busybody. Yes, but we are not going to talk about that. We are going to discuss the fact that you stalked us? I mean, seriously?”

Lys grinned. “Elide came with me.”

Everyone gasped. “She wouldn’t,” Manon said in disbelief. She had always had a soft spot for El.

Lysandra smirked and said, “She would and did. We went to your apartment,” she looked at Aelin here, “and waited until you came back, then followed you to Rowan’s. It was exhilarating.”

“Honestly, I wish it had been someone else. I want to go on a stakeout.” Aelin frowned.

Aedion sighed. “Of course you do.”

Lysandra smiled viciously. “And since Rowan came to my first let’s-find-out-who-Aelin’s-screwing meeting, we told the others as payback.”

“Ah, yes, you mentioned. I kind of hate you,” Aelin said.

“Ditto,” Lys said with a grin. “Vaughan was already gone, though. I need to call him.”

“Is that really necessary right now?” Rowan asked in exasperation.

“I made promises.” She dialed, and the others all sighed.

“Hey, Vaughan. Guess who the dude is?” A muffled voice from the other end, and then, “It’s Rowan.”

The answer was loud enough that Aelin could hear Vaughan shouting, “What?!”

“Yep,” said Lysandra. “We’re having a party now. Toodles.” She hung up without waiting for a response.

“Delicate as always,” Manon muttered.

“I said I’d tell him, I didn’t say I’d spend the entire night chatting with him instead of getting drunk. Speaking of which...” Lys drained her beer can. Manon snorted.

Aelin grinned and grabbed a can for herself. She sat down where she had been a few minutes ago, and Rowan joined her with a beer of his own.

“Are we going to talk about the fact that only two of the five people here have dates?” Aelin asked. “We used to be so desired.” She sighed dramatically.

Manon spoke up. “I prefer relationships that don’t extend to going to intimate gatherings together. You two have no excuse.” She looked pointedly at Aedion and Lysandra.

“Yes, you’re both so sauve; why couldn’t either of you get a date?” Aelin pryingly asked. Everyone knew it was because they wanted to be with each other. Everyone except for them. Idiots.

Lysandra frowned. “You’re so judgy. What’s wrong with wanting to spend quality time with my friends?”

“Yeah,” Aedion cut in. “We don’t need to date to be happy.”

Aelin raised an eyebrow. Rowan chuckled.

“I meant... I didn’t mean date each other.” Aedion’s face had reddened. “Obviously.” Lysandra was blushing as well.

Manon snorted. “You’re both so dumb.”

“Agreed,” Aelin said.

Rowan snorted. “You two should mind your own business. You’re vicious.”

Aelin frowned. “Don’t defend their cowardice just because you have no backbone either.”

Lysandra was scowling. “What do you even mean, we’re dumb?”

Manon and Aelin rolled their eyes. “Nothing, darlings. Sorry to offend,” Manon said.

Aelin giggled.

Many beers later, they were all thoroughly wasted. Aedion and Lysandra had lost their fears along with their sobriety and were standing in the corner shamelessly flirting. No doubt they would both wake up the next morning and conclude the other was only flirting back because they were drunk and it didn’t mean anything. Aelin really tired of their stupidity.

“Hey Aed,” she called. He looked over and Aelin continued. “I’ll pay you twenty bucks to kiss Lysandra.”

Manon cackled. “Clever.”

Rowan just sighed. “Must you meddle?” Aelin didn’t dignify this with a response.

Aedion looked confused. “You mean like a bet?” He was really out of it.

“Yes,” Aelin replied. “I bet you to kiss Lys.” She was also too drunk to understand that made no sense.

Lysandra batted her eyelashes and twirled a piece of hair in her fingers. She leaned forward and placed a hand on Aedion’s chest. “I think you should do it. You know, for the money.”

Aelin chuckled, sober enough to understand this was funny, but no so much that she knew why.

Aedion frowned. “Just for the money. Not because I love you. Which I do. I mean, don’t.” With that, he leaned forward and kissed her. Lysandra’s hands went to run through his hair and Aedion’s went to her hips, then roved over her body.

Manon wolf-whistled. “Finally. Now all we have to do is make sure they don’t think it was only drunken stupidity on the other’s part and pretend it didn’t happen. Damn, it really is hard to deal with all this bullshit.”

“You got that right, Man. You know who didn’t ask me out for three years? Three fucking years? Him!” Aelin jabbed her finger into Rowan’s chest.

Rowan scowled. “Why do I love you?”

“That’s the question of life, boy,” Manon answered.

“Excuse me, no,” Aelin intervened. “Everybody fucking loves me because I am fucking awesome. And fucking lovable and funny and smart and shit. And hot as fuck.”

Manon snorted and Rowan sighed. “I want to be in your pants right now so bad.”

“I’m wearing a dress, darlin’.”

Manon scowled. “Ew, get a room.”

“Lighten up, Man.” Aelin giggled. “At least we’re not making out in front of everybody.” She glanced over and Lys and Aedion, who were indeed still kissing.

Manon looked too and frowned. “Gods spare me.”

Aelin picked up a pillow off the sofa and threw it at the couple. Or attempted to, at least. In her drunken stupor it landed nowhere near them. “Get a room, Manon says!” Aelin yelled.

“I said that to you, actually.”

“Hush Man. Lysie can you hear me! I said shoo!”

Aedion just pulled Lysandra towards the hallway without breaking the kiss. Towards his bedroom. Gross. Aelin said as much. “So not what I meant.”

Rowan coughed. “Perhaps we don’t want to be here anymore?”

Manon snorted. “Definitely not. This party is officially over.”

No one was in any state to drive, so Aelin and Rowan made sure Manon made it safely in the taxi she called, then they headed back to Aelin’s on foot. It was closer and Ansel would still be on holiday for another week.

They finally made to the apartment. Other than a near run-in with a stop sign (Aelin, of course), there were no incidents.

She hadn’t brought her keys, and had to dig through the flowerpot to find the spare. Thank the gods it was actually there. Aelin remembered the time Ansel had taken it out the morning after hooking up with Rowan, and Ansel wasn’t there to let her in now. Thinking back on that day, it felt so long ago. Gods, who would have ever thought she’d be in love with Rowan Whitethorn?

“Hey, dude,” Aelin slurred. “I remember something about an apology? With your tongue? So lick me please.”

Rowan chuckled. “Lick me? Very smooth, Aelin.”

“Yep. That’s me. Smooth as butter.” Aelin tripped over the rug and Rowan just barely caught her in time. How she’d tripped, she didn’t know. Aelin hadn’t been walking. At least she didn’t think she had. I think I’m a little drunk, Aelin thought fuzzily.

Rowan smirked at her. “Right, okay.” He tried to get her back properly on her feet, but he was hardly strong enough to hold himself up, let alone Aelin.

She stumbled towards her bedroom. “Come on, Romeo. Make love to me.”

Rowan followed, chuckling. By the time he made it to her room, Aelin was sound asleep, as if she’d collapsed immediately after reaching the bed. Rowan only had the strength to lie down beside her.

Aelin stretched over, looking at her alarm clock first. Half past noon. She turned over to find Rowan beside her, his hand on her back, neither one of them under the covers.

Aelin brought her hands up to her head to massage her temples. Damned hangover.

Then she looked over for her phone to check her messages. Not on the nightstand. Of course it wasn’t; they had just gotten here. Left at Rowan’s? Yes, that was it, she hadn’t brought it to the party. And shit, she needed it. Vaughan was probably texting her after Lysandra’s abrupt announcement last night. And Lys! She had certainly looked as if she was going to be waking up in Aedion’s bed.

Now Aelin needed her phone, if only to bother her friends. A woman on a mission, Aelin ignored the ponding in her head and got off the bed, intent on... walking to Rowan’s (their cars were both there) just to get her phone? Okay, maybe later. She settled for the bathroom instead.

“Aelin?” a voice called out.

“I’m here, dear, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

A snort came from the bedroom Aelin walked back to. “We fell asleep before I could have my way with you,” Rowan said as Aelin climbed back on the bed.

“‘Fraid so. You’re just going to have to pleasure me extra now.” Aelin smirked as Rowan gave a feral grin in response to her request.

“That can be arranged.” Rowan grabbed Aelin around the waist and pulled her underneath himself, smirking at her squeal.

He leaned down for a kiss that had Aelin’s back arching with the desperation in it. “More, Ro,” she panted when they finally broke apart.

He smiled. “As my queen wishes.” His hands drifted down and pulled Aelin’s dress up to her waist. He slid down so that his mouth was positioned over Aelin’s panties and licked a long, teasing stroke up the fabric.

Her hips bucked. “Please,” Aelin whimpered.

Rowan smirked. “Since you asked so nicely.” He hooked a finger in either side and pulled her underwear down her legs.

And then his mouth, his tongue, as promised, was on Aelin’s center. On the aching ball of flesh she desperately needed him.

Aelin let out a low moan. “I love you, I love you so much.”

Rowan paused the movements of his tongue. “I love you too.”

“Show me how much you love me.”

And he did.

#rowaelin #tog #sneaking around #my writing

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alitaimagines · 4 years ago

Text

“To have another language is to possess a second soul.”

note: my Mexican ass has been dying to do this scenario LMFAO. again, if you wanna see scenario carried out for another anime, dead ass lemme know bc I’ll do it.

some BNHA boys reacting to you speaking Spanish:

midoriya izuku:

homeboy is S H O O K E T H to the core. he knew you weren’t from Japan (whatever Spanish speaking country you choose is all you) but he had NEVER heard you speak Spanish in front of him.

you were probably on the phone with someone in your family and Midoriya’s ass was probably in your room when he heard you just spit balling and talking in Spanish a mile a minute.

he wondered why this was the first time he heard you ever speak Spanish. the two of you had been together for a while and during that time, not one time had you spoke Spanish around him.

“es que el pendejo no sabe cuando callarse,” you had been ranting to your sister about Bakugou and although Midoriya had no idea what the fuck you were saying, from your hand movements, it looks like you were ranting about something, “but I’ll talk to you later, I’m studying with someone and they’re looking at me like I’m crazy,” you lied before telling your sister goodbye.

as you turned around to look at Midoriya, he looked like a deer in the headlights. you gave him a confused look but as soon as you clapped your hands in front of his face, he was pulled back into reality.

“what’s wrong with you?” you asked as you sat at the corner of your bed, “I just never heard you speak Spanish before,” he muttered nervously as you started laughing. you smirked at your new found power move.

“aww Midoriya, esta’s nervioso?” you whispered in his ear making him go red in the face. you placed a soft kiss in his ear as his eyes widened at the sudden turn of events.

maybe you speaking Spanish would be his demise, Midoriya thought.

bakugou katsuki:

he wasn’t Midoriya shook but it caught him off guard. the two of you were casually studying in one of the study hall rooms that U.A. offered and it had been relatively quiet the entire time. both of you took your studies seriously so goofing around wasn’t really a thing.

it wasn’t until you were tired of reading hero law textbooks when you slammed your pen on the book and groaned into the book. Bakugou couldn’t help but laugh at your sudden annoyed expression.

“este pinche prueba me va matar,” you watched Bakugou look at you as if you were from another world, “what the fuck did you just say?” he asked a little flustered at your second language.

you couldn’t help but start giggling at how enamored your boyfriend suddenly became, “did you not know I have close relatives that are from ( insert country here )?” you asked a little amused, “no you idiot! you never brought it up!” Bakugou screamed as you doubled over in laughter at his reaction.

once you composed yourself and looked back at Bakugou, you could tell he was struggling to say something. you tapped your pen on your lip, waiting for him to say something, anything!

Bakugou got up from his chair and gathered his things before whispering into your ear, “be careful where you use that tongue of yours,” he said seductively as it was your turn to finally become a bit flustered. he sauntered out of the room knowing you would be on his tail, asking him what he meant by that.

takami keigo:

okay so considering this fool is a top ten hero, more likely than not, he’s been around people who have spoken Spanish but when it was his partner speaking Spanish, that became a whole different ball game.

you didn’t think much of it as you were trying to give a hero who came from ( insert country ) directions to the bathroom. they had been visiting Japan on the behalf of their agency and being that you knew Spanish, you became their unofficial guide for the next few days.

“esta en tu derecha,” you told the hero, “pero no te pasa’s para el segundo piso,” you added on as they nodded and followed your directions.

just as you made sure that they were following your directions closely, you couldn’t help but feel Keigo’s eyes burning into the back of your head. you knew he was waiting on you to grab a snack before the second round of patrol’s started for the afternoon but he must’ve been really hungry if he was staring at you as hard as he was.

“what?” you asked a little annoyed, “that was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen,” Keigo basically blurted as you became even more confused, “what? me speaking Spanish? I grew up in ( insert country ) for a while with my parents so I picked up the language while I was living there,” you said off handedly.

Keigo was not ready to drop that just yet. he followed you to your office like a love struck puppy as he continued berating you on questions. how long were planning on keeping that shit from him?? one of the love languages could be very beneficial in the bedroom!! come on! don’t be mean, ( your name )!!

it got to the point where you had to scream at him that fine!! you would speak Spanish around him more often if he just shut up and focus on the fact that all of you had patrol soon. he agreed immediately and knew in the back of his mind that he was def going to make you speak Spanish later on tonight.

mirio togata:

he def heard you singing while you were cleaning around your dorm. you knew he was planning on coming over and seeing you before he went to his internship duties and you were cleaning before he got there.

“Mami, que tu quiere? aqui llego tu tiburon. yo quiero perrearte y fumarme un blunt ver lo que esconde ese pantalon. yo quiero perrearte y perrearte y perrearte,” you sang into your broom as Mirio watched you, “Ey, si te lo meto no me llame. que esto no es pa' que me ame, ey, si tu novio no te mama el culo pa eso que no mame,” you continued.

for any of my Latinx followers, yall def know what song this is and how fucking vulgar it is LMFAO. if you don’t, i’m not translating that shit because OOF but I dead ass stopped to dance to the song and had to rehear it to write this scenario LMFAO.

you were dancing to the song and Mirio admittedly got a bit turned on by your movements. you turned around to tell Mirio to come in but it was as if he was stuck to his spot and unable to move.

“mirio, you good?” you asked as you turned down the song and looked at him with concern in your eyes, “I’M FINE!” he screamed as you finally connected the dots and laughed, “you have so much to learn, young one.” you giggled before turning the song back up and continued dancing.

mirio was def glad that he stopped by to see what you were doing because DAMN.

toshinori yagi:

okay he isn’t exactly surprised but he, like bakugou, was caught off guard when you started singing in Spanish to yourself. he was the symbol of peace, he’s heard Spanish several upon several times in his life but he just never heard it from YOU.

both of you were probably lounging around at home. you were probably on your phone as Toshi was in the kitchen fixing some snack for the both of you to eat when all of a sudden he heard you start singing in Spanish from the living room.

“Cuando me muera, como te agardecería que pusieras en mi tumba,” you screamed as you held your phone as a mic, “Dos botellas de mezcal por que se, que he de morirme de una cruda, sabes bien que es culpa tuya por no poderte olvidar.”

he popped his head from the kitchen to see you singing like you were in your feelings or something. he started laughing at how deeply invested you were with the song but as soon as you caught his eye, you started laughing.

“don’t worry baby! the song isn’t about you!” you screamed in assurance as he nodded before returning to the kitchen to only realize what you said, “so who were you singing it to then?” he asked as soon as he walked back into the living room. you laughed before giving him a kiss on the cheek, “no one in particular. just one of those songs you sing when you’re drunk,” you mentioned before biting down on the snack.

he didn’t pay much attention to it as you continued singing into your phone and biting down on the snack every so often. he couldn’t lie, you singing was fucking adorable and he wanted to know if maybe one day, you’d give him some Spanish lessons.

songs mentioned:

Safaera by Bad Bunny: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jCQ_6XbATPc

Dos Botellas De Mezcal by Los Morros Del Norte: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d1I9W064leU

ALITA

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lightsupinthenorth · 4 years ago

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Harringrove teachers AU part 2

Part 1

First of all, thank you very much to everyone who read, liked and/or reblogged the first part. Also, to the people who reacted or said nice things in the tags: you made my day with your sweet words <3

Tag list: @twoprettyboys, @inkedplume, @marianaosborne, @liglitterbug, @hmg621 @spreckle @goldenweatherharringrove

If anyone wants to be added to or taken off the tag list for the future posts of this AU, let me know ;)

Trying to avoid Steve Harrington soon proved to be impossible. He was pretty much everywhere. The fact he was close to Robin and Heather, who Billy himself had quickly befriended, didn’t help. Steve was always hanging with them in the teachers’ lounge before class and eating with them at the cafeteria at lunch. And, as if it weren’t awkward enough already, Steve and Billy almost never interacted directly. Apparently, Steve was tolerating Billy’s presence, but it didn’t go any further than that. Beside a half hearted “hello” when they saw each other, Steve barely ever said anything to him.

Billy tried to start conversations with him. Several times. But Steve always answered shortly, so Billy dropped it.

And he was angry about it.

Because, even though it pained it greatly to admit it, Billy would have loved for Steve and him to be friends.

Every single person in this school seemed to adore Steve, from the students to the staff.

At least a couple of Billy’s students arrived late to English whenever they had Math with Steve beforehand. They always served Billy the same excuse: they had a question of utmost important to ask “Mr. Harrington”, and it couldn’t have waited their next Math class. Billy didn’t buy the bullshit. Strangely, no one arrived late because they had something to discuss with the teacher when they had History with Murray or Science with Sam before English. Half the students had a crush on “Mr. Harrington”, and that was it.

The students regarding Steve like some kind of God was bad enough without the other teachers doing it too. Robin and Heather hugged him all the time, and Murray was constantly holding him hostage about some weird documentary he had watched or whatever theory he had last come up with, and the school counselor, Joyce, smiled extra warm every time she saw him. Even Hopper, the headmaster, would light up when he talked with Steve.

And Billy understood why. Because, while Steve didn’t lose any love on Billy, he was a ray of sunshine to everyone else. He gave his coworkers bright smiles, asked them how they were as if he genuinely cared (and he probably did) about what was going on in their lives, he gave his students encouragements when they came to the teachers’ lounge asking for him during recess (which happened far more often that it should have) because they had trouble with some mathematical concept that Billy didn’t give a damn about.

Steve was a saint with everlasting patience… Except when it came to Billy, apparently. And Billy was so envious he was nearly green with it.

He was also feeling self-conscious, wondering what Steve had seen in him to shun him even though his kindness knew no bound where anyone else was concerned. It couldn’t just be that Billy looked unprofessional, right? Some people that he’d seen Steve interact with enthusiastically had traits far more negative than that, at least in Billy’s book. It made no sense and frustrated him to no end.

He was starting to think that Steve’s dislike of him was just a visceral reaction and had no valid reason. Then, Steve had to go and do something confusing.

Billy was eating lunch in the cafeteria, waiting for Heather and Robin (and Steve, by extension) to join him, and Steve sat down in front of him. Billy immediately noticed the huge piece of chocolate cake on his tray.

“How come you got some cake? I saw someone take the last piece right in front of me.”

Billy was feeling absurdly sour over it. He could have really gone for something sweet.

“Oh… Maria saved it for me.” Steve admitted.

At least, he had the decency to look sheepish.

“Right…” Billy replied, pouting a little.

Of course, one of the lunch ladies had put a piece of cake aside just for the Lord and Savior of Hawkins High. Billy should have known.

“Do you want it?”

Billy blinked at Steve, answering a second too late to appear unsurprised by the question.

“Ugh… no, thank you.”

Had Steve really… offered to give him his dessert? Had he really been nice to Billy? Or had Billy just hallucinated the entire thing?

“You sure? I honestly wouldn’t mind…” Steve said, looking at his plate rather than at Billy.

He was just saying that to be polite, obviously. Billy wasn’t going to take his dessert away from him. It would only make Steve dislike him more.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Steve looked up from his plate and offered a small forced smile, before focusing on his food once again.

Things were already back to normal (ie. Steve not talking to him), then.

Heather and Robin arrived barely a minute later, saving them from the awkward silence that had taken place after their thirty-second conversation (if it could even be called that).

As soon as he had finished eating, Steve announced:

“I’ve gotta scoot. I have to prepare some stuff before my next class.”

He had already got up from his chair when he reached the end of his sentence.

“You still on for tomorrow?” Robin asked.

“Sure thing. See you then!”

Steve took his tray and walked toward the exit in quick strides.

“What’s tomorrow?” Billy asked.

“We’re going to Benny’s coffee shop to grade some papers. You can come if you want.”

Billy had just played himself, hadn’t he? He had asked out of curiosity. He hadn’t been expecting to be invited along to whatever Robin and Steve had planned.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude”, was Billy’s last ditched effort to avoid what was sure to be an extremely awkward afternoon.

He could have come up with some fake excuse, but he was uncomfortable with the idea of lying to Robin. Because she’d been nice to him so far, and also because he was almost certain she would see right through him. She was far too observant for Billy’s good.

“Nonsense, you wouldn’t be intruding.” Robin rolled her eyes.

“Uh… okay, then. Thanks.”

Billy was about to eat his vanilla pudding, aka his sad non-chocolate cake dessert, when Max came up to their table and awkwardly said “hello” to Heather and Robin.

“Something you want?” Billy questioned, because she was obviously there to ask him something but wouldn’t spit it out.

“I’m going to Art club this afternoon. It ends at six… Will you come get me?”

Billy arched an eyebrow.

“We have an Art club?”

Also, since when was Max into art?

“Yeah… well actually today’s the first session… whatever. Will you drive me back home or not?”

“Can’t you skate?”

Now Billy was just being an asshole. Max had been skating to and from school most days since, according to her, it was “uncool” to be seen hanging with a teacher… which was stupid because 1. Billy was her brother, and 2. There was nothing uncool about him.

“I… ugh… well. I broke my skateboard.”

Max bit her lower lip.

Billy sighed.

“Again?”

“Yeah… sorry.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll drive you home.” Billy conceded, making a quick mental note to go buy Max a new skateboard. For the third time this year.

“Thanks. Later.”

She was gone as quickly as she had come, leaving Billy to deal with Robin and Heather’s puzzled faces.

“What was that?” Heather asked.

“Maxine Mayfield…?” Billy said, hoping to avoid this particular conversation.

The universe didn’t want him to avoid things that day, though.

“I know that, dumbass. You know each other?”

“Yeah, she’s my sister.”

“What?! How come we didn’t know that?”

“We don’t have the same name, whatever. It’s not that big a deal.” Billy mumbled.

“Yeah… but still… you could have told us.”

“Here honey, have some cake, it’s delicious.” Robin said, extending her fork to Heather.

Billy was thankful for the distraction. But he mainly focused on the cake, that he had only now taken notice of.

“Did Maria save that for you?” He asked.

Robin frowned.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Never mind.” Billy said.

Billy chose to stay at school after his last class and to wait in the teachers’ lounge until Art club was over and Max was ready to go home. He would have used the time to grade some papers, but he was supposed to do that tomorrow afternoon with Robin… and Steve. So he spent the hour and a half reading, instead.

He went to the classroom, which Max had given him the number of by text, five minutes before the session was supposed to end. He waited at least fifteen minutes before the first student left the room, greeting Billy on the way out.

Max came out last, along with El, the headmaster’s adopted daughter. She was one of Billy’s students. She had some troubles in English because, from what he had been told, she had only started learning the language recently. She was pretty quiet, maybe because of that exact reason, but she seemed like a very sweet girl. It would be good for Max to hang out with her. Billy didn’t dare ask because he didn’t want to put Max on the spot or make her feel bad, but he feared she had yet to make friends at school.

Billy’s thoughts were interrupted when none other than Steve Harrington emerged from the classroom right after the girls. Well, that explained the ten minutes Billy had had to wait.

Steve had paints all over his hands, and some on his shirt. There was even a little blue spot on his cheek. He looked painfully cute. Billy didn’t like it one bit.

“Billy?” Steve asked, sounding as shocked as Billy felt. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to pick my sister up.” He said, gesturing to Max. “You run the Art club?”

Billy didn’t mean to sound this disbelieving, but he was having a hard time reconciling Math teacher and art enthusiast. Was that judgmental? Was Billy a hypocrite?

“We don’t have a real art teacher so… uh… for lack of a better option, I’m taking care of it for the time being.”

“You’re great at it, Steve.” El said with a beaming smile.

Did all his students call him Steve or was it only the headmaster’s daughter? Billy was intrigued.

“Oh thanks, El. You’re too nice.”

Billy almost said: “that’s the pot calling the kettle black”, but he thankfully kept his mouth shut.

Steve locked the classroom door and then turned back to them.

“Well, girls, Billy, have a good weekend. See you on Monday.”

“Actually, you’ll be seeing me tomorrow.”

What had happened to Billy’s mouth staying shut?

“Oh… you’re coming? That’s… that’s great.” Steve stammered.

He smiled, but it was too late: Billy had seen the disappointment in his eyes.

“Yeah… great. Have a good evening, Steve.” He sounded cold, as he said it.

“Y-you too.”

Yes… The coffee date was going to go swimmingly.

#Harringrove #Harringrove teachers AU #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #Heather Holloway #Max Mayfield #Eleven Jane Hopper #a bunch of other characters mentionned #Stranger Things #my writing

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newobsessionweekly · 5 years ago

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Quarantine games🌿

a/n: someone asked for this, I hope I didn’t let you down. I honestly don’t know where that came from. I have a strange mind and even stranger imagination. So, enjoy! 🌿

warning: maybe language and some explicit stuff. word count: 2.305

Arón Piper x reader 🌿

There are so many things going on in the world right now that you can’t even keep the step up with them. First, Italy confronts with this virus-thing and then you heard numbers too big for you to understand. More than nine hundred of deaths in one day in Italy, those news gave you goosebumps. Then you heard the news about Spain having a bad situation as well. You’ve been carefully every time, but this couldn’t keep you inside for more than four days, otherwise you’d go nuts. So when your best friend, Miguel, called and said that he and some friends wanted a gathering to watch together the new season of Élite, you accepted immediately. Inside Jorge’s apartament in Madrid were nine people and a cat, and the place was almost overcrowded. Two episodes and thirteen songs later, the news about a total lockdown and Spain being closed, gathered you in front of the TV. You are not allowed to leave the house , except for emergencies so even if you tried, you couldn’t reached your apartament, is like in the opposite side of Madrid.

“It’s not a big deal, right? We can get over this together.” Jorge told you and it was an subtle invitation to stay over. And you did stayed. The truth is, you were afraid of this situation and you didn’t want to get through this alone. You weren’t the only one thinking like that so you decided to manage this situation together. Danna was supposed to fly back in Mexic to be with her family, but the flight was cancelled.

Though you knew this people before, staying so many days together, you got to know them even better, for example how are they in their private space. A few days later, you finished the last season of Élite and all the food in the apartament. Day five of quarantine bring a bore bigger than the Empire State Building. You slept almost all day and ate, ghosting here and there. Danna let you borrow some clothes from her luggage but today you only could find dresses and fancy clothes.

“Can somebody borrow me a t-shirt or something?” Ester just washed the laundry and now you need to wait them to dry. You weren’t the only one who wasn’t prepared for so many days away from home, you packed, just in case, for three days. Miguel, Omar and Álvaro weren’t prepared as well, but gladely they could count on Jorge and Arón. The latter was supposed to go visit his father’s family in Germany, but his flight was cancelled as well so he got stuck with you.

“I think I still have some clean ones in my baggage. You can look and take anything you like.” Arón responded from the window frame. He smokes too much when he is bored. And drinks. It’s already the third beer and the night just started. But you don’t want to say anything because it’s none of your business. You must addmit he is the one that caught your attention since the day one. You stalked him on Instagram a few days ago, trying to find something about him, maybe some pictures with a girlfriend or anything, but it´s nothing much. He keeps his life privately and that’s a thing you admire most at him.

Surprisingly, he has an ordonate luggage and you find rapidly a t-shirt. He had many from expensive brands. You loved one shirt from Monclair, and said “why not?”, he said you could take anything you like. You screamed “Gracias, Arón!” and went for a shower.

----------

After a warm shower, the anxiety started to spread from your body. When you dressed Arón’s t-shirt, a strage feeling attacked you and made you stare at the image in the mirror. You are wearing a shirt that isn’t yours, is a hot boy’s shirt, which fits you strangely perfect. And this smell... the smell of his cologne haunted you these days, but now is closer than ever and you can enjoy it without raising question marks from anyone. However you wished you could smell it from Arón while he is hugging you. “Nonsense, I am getting nuts!” you thought. But this handsome man would help your fantasies only growing day by day. You shooked your head and walked out of the bathroom, just to found everyone sitting round the coffee table.

“Finally, we thought you died inside and we were just tossing a coin to see who had to rescue you.” Miguel laughed and made some space for you to sit next to him.

“Good choice, that one is my favourite!” Arón winked at you and took a sip from a cocktail.

“Ah, lo siento, I didn’t knew! I can change it if you want.” you said quickly, panicked. He smiled at you and waved his hand as in “keep it”.

“So, the rules are simple. Truth or dare. You don’t make any of them, you receive a punishment, alright?” they decided to play this game to animate a little this flat. All day you almost ignored each other and it wasn’t a wise movement. The depression started to fill in and Jorge, because it was his idea to keep all of you there, was feeling responsable for you bad mood. You played Poker three nights in a row, then “Uno” and even “Activity”. You won at Poker and made Arón kinda mad, but unfortunately lost at the other ones. You and Miguel are not a good pair for games. Jorge spinned the empty beer bottle which pointed Álvaro.

“Aye, amigo, truth or dare?” Jorge smiled wickedly.

“Truth.” Álvaro’s response came and everyone mumbled “chicken” at him. He rolled his eyes and waited for a question.

“What scene did you like filming the most?”

“That sex scene in the pool with you and Georgina.” the answer came and the laughs didn’t waited to burst. Then Álvaro had to dare Mina. “Drink that beer from one sip.” And Mina didn’t think twice before she grabbed the bottle.

“Easy with the beers, alright? There are not many left!” Arón attentioned all of you.

“Sure, we ran out of food and you are worried about the beers.” you like very much to provoke him. Arón looked at you menacing. When Mina spinned, Omar picked the truth.

“What is the funniest memory you have from the set?”

“From season 3?” he asked and Mina approved. “Maybe the one when I was supposed to mime a blowjob and he couldn’t stop laughing. I was bouncing my head up and down for a damn take until I’ve literally got dizzy.” he pointed at Arón and laughed while accepted the middle finger. You tought for a minute, that middle finger is like a signature for him, is one of the many specific things for him.

“You blame me for laughing but you made some funny sucking noises!” Arón defended himself and you laughed even louder. Despite the noises, Omar could hear Miguel when he chose dare and it wasn’t a great idea.

“Mime a sex scene with anyone in this room.” Omar spoken out the final verdict. Miguel picked you up, despite the fact that you refused to do that with him. You wear some kind of short jeans, but they looked more like underwear, so when Miguel made you bend on one of the countertops, you looked like you were naked. He put his hands on your waist and mimed the “in and out” move behind your back.

“Come on, (y/n), you have to moan to make it credible!” Miguel pinched your arm and that made you sceam. “Well, that wasn’t really a moan, but it was better than nothing!” you could hear everyone laughing behind your back. When the torture finally ended, you faced Miguel with anger.

“I hate you for this!” you said, but he just laughed and passed you so he can also spin the bottle. Arón had a strange look on his face. You didn’t know if it was embarrassment or anger or any other feeling, but something bothered him. The bottle stopped in front of Arón and he choses truth. “What are your top three turn-ons?” Miguel looked at you after he spoke and winked. “Puta mierda!” you thought. Now everyone would know something is going on with you. The truth is you have a crush on Arón and Miguel kinda figured it out. The way he smiles, the way he moves, the way he smokes, everything is so perfect at him. Beside the amazing look, he have a good heart too, he’s a funny one and you find yourself some things in common with him.

“Wearing matching lingerie, playing with my hair and maybe the smell of food cooking.” he answered and it heard some of them whistling while and you almost turned red like a tomato. You are a shy one and dirty stuff made you turn red like a tomato every time.

When the bottle pointed you, almost frozed. Someone out there hates you for some reason, you thought. Arón is the last person you would have wanted to ask you. He smiled wickedly at you, licked his lips and made you pick truth or dare. You choose truth, obviously. “Who here would you most like to make out with?” he asked. ¡Joder!, he’s good at it.

“Pure curiosity or you have something in mind?” you challenged him, smiling like a devil.

“Are you gonna answer that or you want to let me find the answer by myself?” he’s not yielding either.

“I’ll wait to see how long would it take you to find out.”

“Fine, dare. Let two people give you a wet willy at the same time.” you crossed the nose.

“¡Joder!, that is gross! No, absolutely not!” you shooked your head.

“Then you need a punishment, (y/n).” someone finally interrupted the stare contest you and Arón unknowingly held. You found out it was Jorge.

“A punishment given by whom?” you hoped from the bottom of your heart not to hear Arón’s name. Not this time.

“Arón. And you are not allowed to reject this one.” ¡Joder!, it was like the game was against you.

“Siete minutos en el cielo con mi.” the others watched you and Arón as you were a fascinating movie, no one came between you. You had to take some time to understand what he said. Seven minutes in heaven. Seriously? You are not sixteen anymore and you are not trying to have your first kiss. You rolled your eyes. You were convinced that he doesn’t stand you a bit, and now he’s asking you to lockup with him seven minutes to what? Maybe he wanted to tell you to go home. You haven’t really talked to him much and you didn’t know him, but you can say, watching him from distance, he is a great man. And that “bad ass” face and attitude he always shows up, it’s just a mask. You thought he is the sweetest person inside there, because he let you somehow see a little of that side. But you had so many question marks. For something you were sure, you had his attention like he got yours. You couldn’t get him off of your head and that drives you crazy.

“Fine, seven minutes in hell. Ah, perdona me, I wanted to say heaven.” you played pretend because you didn’t had any clue what the hell he have in that beautiful head and just at the thought about staying seven minutes only with him, in a small place, made your stomach hurt in a way it never did before. You followed him into the bathroom and then he locked the door behind you. You wasn’t expecting the bathroom to be this small, but him with his big worked out body, occupies a lot of space. Your mouth was dry and you literally couldn’t help but stare at his lips. If you were uncertain about the answer to that question he asked you, now you are a hundred percent sure he’s the one that turns you on.

“You know, I think I found the answer to that question.” maybe he figured out on his own, because maybe you didn’t know how to play pretend, or maybe around him you can’t control yourself.

“Oh yeah, what’s the answer then?” you looked him bravely in his beautiful brown eyes.

“I am the answer.” he approached and you could smell his cologne, or maybe it was just the t-shirt you’re wearing. “And if I’m right, and I’m pretty sure I’m right.” he leans towards you and whisperes in your ear: “Then maybe you wanna know the real answer to Miguel’s question”

“Why would I?”

“Because it’s you. For months you are the first one on my top three turn-ons list. And I think I’m not the only one here who feels this way.” as an answer to his unspoken question, you closed the distance between you with a kiss full of desire. He doesn’t waste any time and responded with as many passion as you put in that kiss. He grabbed you waist and pulled as close as possible. It was a slow one, like nothing outside didn’t matter anymore. Just the two of you, creating a new world. You pulled away from that kiss when you heard a knock on the door and Jorge’s voice.

“You know, I can even offer you my room if you want to, but don’t take away the bathroom, please!” you heard laughing coming from behind that door and felt your cheeks turning red. You looked at the man in front of you and tried to memorise all his beautiful features. He really admitted somehow he likes you, and you couldn’t stop that stupid smile spreading on your face.

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cockasinthebird · 4 years ago

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ahhh grats on the milestone!! also holy shit youve got 500 prompts stored away somewhere??? im gonna go with my favourite number combo..... 317 👀 im super excited to see what you come up with!! 💖 -bbsitterpng

@babysitterpng Thank you so much!!! And yes, 500 goddamn prompts, all carefully curated, only the best for my beloved mutuals and followers!!

I got SO ELATED when I saw that you sent me a mystery prompt request!!!! ❤️💕 I would have finished it yesterday, but I got uhhh distracted 😏😏😏

317. “I think you’ll be happy to know I’m not wearing any underwear.”

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again and again and again; I knew exactly what I wanted to write for this immediately, and while I worry the exposition seems too rushed, I am very satisfied with the rest, all near 4k words!

So please, enjoy~

Today has been a long day that started when the sun had barely found its place in the sky.

Neil was beating at his bedroom door, asking why it’s locked, threatening to kick it down, demanding that Billy get up right now to mow the lawn, just to complain about what a shitty job he did after, shouting about how he has to do everything himself.

Billy would beat his pillows, lift weights till his muscles hurt, and smoke like a chimney, all to alleviate stress in one way or another.

At 12 Max was leaving to go play DnD with her little loser friends, ready to skate her way over there, but Billy needed to get out of the house, have a valid excuse, and it doesn’t get better than “watching out for his little sister.”

They’re on good terms now, after they had gotten in an intense fight and she screamed at him to just leave her and her friends alone, and after not spending every waking hour hating and antagonizing her, she’s not as annoying anymore, and Billy thinks that perhaps his anger was the issue here, not her being a little shit.

That realisation helped him a lot in general. It’s around that time he “apologised” to Harrington the best he could, but when Steve was nice and understanding of his issues, it only made him angry again. Billy doesn’t believe he deserves to be forgiven so easily, no, Harrington should have hit him, defended himself, gotten pissed and told Billy to fuck off.

Instead they wound up at Benny’s diner, sharing a giant plate of fries and a milkshake each.

“My treat,” Steve insisted.

And that’s when old issues resurfaced; the same exact issues that meant they had to leave California. The same exact issues that brought Billy’s wrath upon this pretty boy. The same exact issues that led one thing to another, and now Billy knows the route from his house to the Harrington Mansion like the back of his hand; could drive it with his eyes closed now.

But he doesn’t want to seem needy or clingy. Doesn’t want to be what he is - the way he is.

So after dropping Max off at the Wheeler’s house, the fiery redhead even going as far as to offer him a bit of a smile, he didn’t go home. Didn’t drive to Steve’s house either no matter how much he wanted to.

Don’t be needy, don’t be clingy. You’ll see him later.

So for four hours he drove around town, smoked by the quarry, got admired at a gas station when he refilled, passed Steve’s street far too many times, went to the empty pool that’s closed for the year and sat with his feet over the edge and smoked some more, restlessly kicking the tiling. Over the course of this time he checked his watch at least a billion times.

When it was finally 4pm, he drove to pick up his sister and El - the gang having managed to convince both Steve and Billy to take them to the movies to watch the last screening of The Neverending Story, which doesn’t exactly sound like something he wants to watch, but knowing Steve will be there, he agreed all too readily.

And as he pulls back up to the Wheeler’s again, he sees the brown BMW, Steve leaning against the door as he waits for the boys to pile into his car. Billy’s heart is beating like a painful drum in his aching chest, and when Steve sees him sitting and waiting for the girls, he smiles at him and waves.

Billy is as always astounded and breathless by the way Steve smiles, the way Steve looks at him now, like he’s happy to see him. He can’t smile back, he wants to, but his face feels dull and incapacitated. He wants to just kick open his car door, stomp up to Steve and fucking kiss him. Instead he simply waves back.

Then Max breaks the trance as she pulls open the door and crawls in to sit in the back with El.

“What the hell took you guys so long, I’m starving,” Billy complains as he looks over his shoulder at them.

Max is smart and doesn’t answer, and Billy is smart and doesn’t ask again. No he remains quiet as they follow the beemer, Max and El laughing loud and joyous behind him like girls their age do, talking about shit he doesn’t care for, just focuses on the car in front as they drive to Benny’s diner for early dinner before going to wolf down popcorn at the cinema.

The gang is eager and excited, like kids should be, running to the diner as they talk all too frantically about whatever it is kids talk about, Billy is really not paying attention, when Steve is right there.

“Find a booth where we can all sit!” Steve shouts after them, and Billy’s not sure if they heard him at all. “Hey Hargrove, got a smoke?” his voice kinder and friendly, too friendly, as he addresses Billy.

Steve leans against the hood of the camaro, smiling all too wide. He’s dressed in high waisted jeans and a red crop top that shows just enough of a midriff for it to be too much for Billy.

He takes up a spot next to Steve, just far away enough for it to not be suspicious, but absolutely too far away for it to not be enough, yet even from here he can smell the floral soap and honey shampoo. Can’t help but think of how soft Steve’s skin is, how silky his hair is, all newly washed and clean of him. Wonders if the purple hickeys are still visible across his chest, up his thighs.

Even though Steve is trying his best to meet Billy’s gaze, he refuses to look at him just in case it would be too obvious what he’s thinking about, as he unwraps a fresh pack of Marlboro and offers one up.

When Billy ignites his lighter and reaches forth, Steve touches his hand, holds it steady as he leans in to bring his cigarette to the flame. There’s a burning sensation where his pale, soft hand connects them, and when Steve dares rub Billy’s wrist with his fingers, there’s a pain shooting through his heart, a sharp wanting for more. No, a need for more. He’s caught staring at those pretty, pink lips when Steve pulls away and exhales a cloud.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with a wry smile, clearly aware.

“You know damn well ‘what’s wrong’,” Billy snaps a bit harsher than intended as he continues to force himself to look away.

Thankfully Steve takes it well and huffs a laugh filled with smoke.

They end up in silence after that; the comfortable kind that comes from being at peace together, easy and relaxed and pleasant, one where they don’t need words because there’s no longer any doubt between them. Perhaps that’s what love is, as cheesy and gross as that may be, Billy ponders. To be able to just exist together without it being awkward or stilted. Perhaps he’s fallen a bit in love with his ex-rival. Or perhaps he’s just in love with how he feels when he’s with Steve, both physical and not.

It isn’t till Steve finishes his cigarette, drops it on the asphalt and stomps it out, that he speaks,

“Oh, I almost forgot, I wanted to tell you something.” He’s smiling like the cat that got the cream, licking his lips a bit too slowly as he goes to whisper in Billy’s ear, “I think you’ll be happy to know I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Billy’s heart skips several beats at that, before then going too fast - rapidly pumping blood through him, and there’s a certain rush of it going straight to his dick. He stares too long into those deep, dark eyes, mischievous and satisfied with the response as Billy short circuits.

“What?”

Steve shrugs and tips his head to the side a bit, acting all innocent and oblivious, lips drawn tight in a smile that goes from ear to ear. He opens his mouth and takes a long inhale, insinuating that he’s about to say something, then simply turns around, hands in his pockets as he walks towards the diner.

Leaving Billy behind, baffled, astonished, dumbfounded.

The next two hours feels like days.

They sit in the diner, Billy and Steve across from one another.

The kids are still as energetic as before, their voices a jumble of words and phrases and retellings of DnD from today’s session. Steve chews on his straw as he tries to follow along with whatever they’re talking about, laughing when they laugh, nodding on occasions. Whenever he looks over at Billy, blue eyes flee to stare out the window instead, finding great interest in the pattern of how one street light flickers.

Before the movie starts, they go to let out water by the urinals of the cinema, Billy standing right next to Steve, having hoped to catch a glimpse, see if he’s telling the truth, the urge near irresistible to just take a quick look, but the other men around them might not take too kindly to something like that.

And during the movie they sit together at the end of the row.

Steve, Billy, Max, El, Mike, Will, Dustin, Lucas.

He didn’t care for the movie before, only going along as a sign of friendliness and to have an excuse to not be home, but now. Now he’s almost hating having to sit here, next to Steve, shoulders nearly touching, shoes pressed together on the dark floor, only an armrest between them.

For the first twenty arduous minutes, Steve doesn’t do anything, doesn’t say anything, showing no sign of registering how near they are, just watches the movie in silence with a smile, while Billy is sat next to him, burning up despite his shirt being unbuttoned as always, mind racing with thoughts and images of Steve Steve Steve.

So distracted by all of that, that he nearly jumps when Steve touches his hand. Same softness and tenderness from earlier on the parking lot, the way Steve always touches him with just a hint of hesitance when they’re not completely alone.

But the cinema is dark, the kids are entranced, and there’s barely a handful of people besides them, so maybe it’s safe enough.

Billy raises his fingers into the touch, thinking that Steve wants to hold hands, intertwine them, any of that stupid romantic shit that he loves and Billy pretends to only barely tolerate, but the touch moves past that, a feather across the back of his hand, up to gently and carefully grab him by the wrist.

At that, Billy finally looks down, keeps facing the big screen but pays acute attention to what Steve is doing, where he’s leading his hand, placing it on his knee, Billy’s fingers in between spread legs. He continues to guide the hand further up, towards the heat of where his thighs meet, effectively sending Billy’s heart rate sky high.

When he finally turns his head, he finds Steve staring right back, a small and restrained smile, and in that moment, Billy feels like he can read Steve’s thoughts, knows exactly what’s on his mind, never doubts it for a second, and is proved right when Steve stands up and climbs over the seat to walk along the empty row behind them.

Billy whips around to Max, and hisses out, “We’re going for a smoke, don’t fucking go anywhere.”

“Yeah yeah,” she groans all indifferent and waves him away, eyes big and caught in the movie.

The bathroom at the Hawk is as clean as it ever gets, and perhaps not too shockingly, empty. Movies are running and people are seated.

Steve stands looking at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair, not that it looks any different to Billy now than before.

He takes heavy steps towards the brunette, announcing himself and catches Steve’s eyes in the mirror, watching as Billy approaches and steps behind him. Billy leans in to run his nose up Steve’s neck, inhaling deeply and humming out pleasantly, blinking slowly as he keeps pressing his face into the crook there, not quite kissing yet.

Eyes dart back to the mirror where heavenly blue meets chocolate brown, a feverish intensity there as Steve stares back. Gently, but with no hesitation, Billy snakes his arms around Steve’s waist, past the belt and up to touch where skin shows between jeans and the top.

When there’s no ‘stop’, he keeps going, curls his fingers around the red fabric and lifts up, exposing Steve’s chest to the both of them in the mirror. Bitten and marked, purple and red, Billy eyes his masterwork with an appreciative gaze, and with one hand keeping the shirt away, he moves the other up to graze his fingers across each little bruise his lips left just two days ago.

Steve hums a bit, erotic and turned on, and if more were to happen now, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d found their way together in public. And perhaps that thought strikes Steve just as it does Billy, for he pushes back into him, rubbing his soft ass against where he finds a slight bulge already.

“Fuck, Stevie…” Billy huffs and breathes against Steve’s neck, eyes closed as he relishes in the slow friction, kissing sloppy and half-minded against pale skin. “You really wanna do this here? Where the kids could just walk in any moment?”

“I would have maybe pushed you into a stall first,” Steve laughs, a slight stutter to it. “But I was thinking your car? The movie is like two hours, we could find an alley, park there, let me ride your cock?”

A growl escapes by the enchantment of those words, and Billy bites into Steve’s neck, earning him an illicit little hiss and smirk.

“How am I supposed to say no when you put it like that?”

Neither of them feel particularly bad for just abandoning the gang like that, but they’ll be quick, hidden in this alleyway, not too far away from the theatre, a bit of fun while the others gawk and gape at the magic of movies.

But it’s hard to be remorseful, when Steve is moaning like this, Billy two fingers deep in him in the driver's seat of the camaro.

Steve didn't lie about going commando today; told Billy, “When I found out you were tagging along, I hoped I’d get to have you alone like this.”

It took Steve less than two seconds to start getting undressed when Billy turned off the engine, whereafter he crawled right onto his lap, hard and bottomless, knees over Billy’s shoulders, feet locked behind the headrest, back against the steering wheel.

“Ah-h, mmh, fuck, Billy-” he whines, hands placed firm on Billy’s legs for support as he lifts and angles his ass to allow Billy access with lubed up fingers.

His other hand squeezes Steve’s leaking prick, using the precum to slick up the flesh, keeping him hard and crying like that. His own lonesome cock aches where it lies full against his stomach; the button down having been opened completely to avoid staining it, and giving Steve something to admire.

“Billy, please, just- oh- just fuck me already!” Steve’s voice pitched high with lust and impatience, brows drawn together, his arms shaking underneath his own weight.

“Just don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” Billy purrs.

He watches with great interest as he pumps two fingers in and out of Steve’s wet hole, making a scissoring motion to stretch him properly.

“Mmh, we don’t exactly have time for that, and I need you so bad,” Steve says with the sweetest, most alluring tone he can.

And God if that doesn’t go straight to Billy’s twitching dick.

“You sure?” He wants to double check anyways.

“Yes- yes! Just- get a condom, I don’t wanna ruin my favourite pants.”

Billy chuckles lightly at that thought as he leans to reach for the glovebox, absolutely turned on by the idea of Steve walking around brimming with him, his cum dripping out and running down his thighs. Perhaps another time.

The condom rolls on with ease, Billy having become quite the expert with one through time, but he has been getting a lot of practice lately what with Steve and his more adventurous side, and wearing a rubber when fucking in public makes for an easy and quick cleanup. He gives himself a few good strokes to lube up good and nice, ensuring that Steve gets a smooth ride as he aligns himself with the hole that flutters eagerly to suck him in.

Greedy, starved, zealous, Steve sits himself on that veiny dick, ass fully flush with Billy’s hips, breathlessly gasping and cursing around his name, “Fuck Billy…”

“Mmmh,” Billy hums and licks his lips, staring down with adoration at how he’s buried deep inside of Steve’s ass, tight with lack of preparation, but- “You feel so good baby, taking my cock so well.”

He brings his hands to grab Steve by the hips and guide him in a circular motion, muscles clenching around him that can only be described as beautiful, eliciting groans and causing him to dig in his nails.

Steve’s panting, bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat, the windows fogged up, telling anyone that would walk by exactly what was going on, and when he lifts up to fuck himself on Billy’s fat erection, they shake the entire car with his fervor; each time he sinks down he moans more; moans with less and less self control.

“Take off your shirt, pretty boy,” Billy drawls out and swipes his tongue across shiny and sharp teeth. “Wanna see you.”

It’s a hurried motion that takes less than three seconds for Steve to yank off the crop top and grab on to Billy’s knees again, refusing to wait even one moment in the haze of his neediness.

Billy, however, faced with marks of his own making, takes time to appreciate how perfectly purple suits Steve’s pale skin, blooming across his pecs, his tits, near nipples that strut now, begging to be touched. And who is he not to oblige. Hands travel up from hips, past the waist, to Steve’s chest - the brunette seemingly lost in chasing his own high, that he doesn’t notice where Billy is going till he presses hard against the sensitive buds.

“A-ah! Fuck, Billy!” And he throws his head back.

Steve’s entire body tenses at that, each muscle flexing and twitching, contracting around Billy’s steely cock, and he can’t help himself but to thrust into the clenching hole, the rim taking a chokehold on the base of his prick. Steve has to bring up a hand against the roof of the car to keep himself from hitting his head, while also giving him the ideal leverage to push down hard, bodies colliding, skin slapping together in a lascivious and erotic rhythm.

“God, you’re such a little slut for my cock, huh baby?” Billy growls like a ravenous wolf as he pounds into Steve, forcing out every little cry and moan, telling him that he’s hitting just the right spot.

“Billy- Billy, ah-a, fuck- fuck-” Steve whimpers and looks down to watch one hand on his hip that pulls him down, another rubbing hard against his nipple.

“Yeah, harrh, listen to yourself,” and Billy pauses to listen to how Steve mewls, revelling in the fact that he’s the cause of that. “So loud and lewd, baby, calling out my name like that.”

“Billy.”

He’s a confident guy, Keg King and lady killer, and while shit like emotions and feelings stuns him, this brings him alive, lust coiling in his gut, burning hot and white, ramping up to a fever pitch as he fucks with wild abandon into Steve’s wet cunt.

Billy hasn’t bothered masturbating in a good while, no, he saves all of that pent up energy for Steve, to fill him up; desire blinding him to anyone else but his princess.

“Mmhnn- ahh, fuck, Stevie, can’t wait to get you alone tonight,” he says, voice fucked out and perverted, Steve looking at him as he speaks, “Drop off all the little shits and then fuck you into your mattress till you’re a mess, pump you full of my cum.”

Steve’s eyes screws shut tight, mouth wide open as he moans, “Yes, oh God, Billy-”

“Yeah? You want that?”

“Yes! Please! Fuck-” He nods the best he can, hair bouncing.

“You’re such a good little whore for me, princess, so needy for my cock.”

“Billy- Billy please,” Steve croons, all pathetic and close.

“Anything,” Billy responds with fast devotion, a promise that he gladly lives up to, knowing well what it is Steve is begging for, wants to hear him say it anyways.

“Touch me, please, ah-h- I’m so so close, fuck…”

Billy grins wide, so self satisfied it’s nearly disgusting, and he closes his fingers firm around Steve’s slick erection; he gets so fucking wet, leaking profusely, swears it only happens when he’s with Billy like this.

“Just like that, yes! Oh fuck, I’m- ah-”

“Yeah, cum for me baby, wanna watch you- show me what I do to you.”

Billy jerks him off quick and crude, knows how Steve likes it, how he needs it; loves being manhandled, talks about that whenever he’s with Billy he feels small and light.

And Steve cums with a loud and unadulterated moan, stilling his entire body in a tense pose as Billy fucks him fast; slamming quickly against his prostate, hand milking him good till he’s emptied out on his own chest.

It is a glorious thing to watch, a masterpiece of performance only for him, a grand show for a one man audience that Billy gets to relive again and again and again. Steve’s jaw drops as he continues to cry out like he’s a goddamn porn star, overstimulated and loving it.

Billy’s own orgasm is far less showy; a few shallow, brutish thrusts, grunting through gritted teeth, he shoves Steve down onto him hard as his hips stutter through completion, waves of impossible heat pouring out and leaving him a puddle of bliss and euphoria.

Time is lost to them, as they sit like that; Steve’s one leg having fallen between the seats as he went limp with exhaustion, still firmly planted in Billy’s lap, who’s soft and complacent and fucking tired, both of them breathing heavy.

“We should… we should go back…” Steve mumbles with closed eyes.

Billy’s watching the way Steve’s cum slowly slips down his chest, running over his abs and nearing his pubic hair.

“Do we have to?” he eventually manages to ask.

And Steve chuckles at that, the vibrations through his body clenching around Billy’s spent cock and he can’t help the sore “ooh”s and “ahh”s as he tries to pull away from it.

“Sadly we do. Can’t have the kids walk home alone in the dark, besides…” Steve grinds his ass onto Billy’s lap, making him wince in not quite pain, not quite pleasure, but definitely too much. “Think you promised to… fuck me into my mattress?”

#Harringrove #My Writing #Lemon #Mystery Prompt #500 followers #Babysitterpng #hope it was as good for you as it was for me sweets #😌#Anonymous

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sh1tbird-shantytown · 4 years ago

Note

Tommy doesn’t know who Queen is and Steve goes on a quest to get Tommy to listen to all different types of music. Billy gets dragged into the shenanigans. The three of them start hanging out together when Steve falls asleep, but he has a super bad nightmare. (I think they were probably drinking or smoking weed or both before. Which made the nightmare worse.) Then comes cuddling with Tommy choosing the music and light teasing.

i love this so much. they’re all musically ignorant in one way or another anyway. lemme just sprint with this now :)

---

He was just trying to get his history books, it wasn't his fault that their lockers were right next to each other. Or that Tommy was apparently living under a heavy rock.

“I’ve never heard of Queen, unless you’re talking about the Queen of England or some shit. Other than that, I’m at a loss.” Tommy was yapping to one of Carol’s friends. Sarah? Betty? They all looked the same honestly.

“What do you mean you’ve never heard of Queen?” Steve hadn’t actually really meant to just start abruptly start speaking to Tommy again, but here they were. In the hallway. Around nosey onlookers. And Sarah-Betty who was definitely staring and definitely not happy for the intrusion.

Tommy grinned boyishly, “Talkin’ to me again, Harrington?”

Steve didn’t let up, “You haven’t heard of Queen? Freddie Mercury? Brian May? They’ve been all over the radio for years, man.” Tommy died down a little with the snarky attitude, but the flare was still there through the dilution.

“I don’t know, Harrington. Guess I have too many people around to pay attention to the radio much anymore.” Tommy crossed his arms and Steve almost gave up as the bilious emotions started up towards the boy again.

Steve shook his head, “Meet me at my house tonight at 6. I’ll order in and I’ll show you myself what Queen is. ‘Kay, Tom?” Now that really took the other aback.

“It’s been, what, a year?” Hands on his hips just as Steve was doing, “All of a sudden you’re interested again?”

Steve looked him in the eye and nodded, “Six o’clock on the dot, Tommy. Be there!” he pivoted on his heel and blended in the crowd.

He had the pizza box and the stereo up and ready to jam long before the bell rung. Only three minutes late. It was honestly a record for Tommy, Steve knew for a fact that Tommy had the worst time management skills. Which also made Steve a little on edge as he opened the door. He wasn’t actually that surprised to find Billy Hargrove right there beside Tommy. Both grinning in their own devilish manners.

Steve vamped them with the most unimpressed look he could produce and traveled back inside, “Well, come on!” he ordered impatiently.

Billy spoke up first as they entered the living area, “Nice place, very...” he seemed to contemplate a moment as he examined the vacant side tables and mantle, “Modern.”

“Tell me about it,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ll go get beer,” he started making his way towards the kitchen. “Pizza’s on the coffee table, don’t make a mess.”

When he returned there wasn’t any mess on the floors or furniture, but Tommy had enough sauce on the corners of his mouth and cheeks to slather a whole slice itself.

“Oh, Tommy,” he sighed and grabbed a napkin to clean the sauce before it dried. Billy and Tommy stared like owls but Steve ignored them and instead focused on putting the first cassette in. “Now listen, no one gets to speak.” He pointed to the table, “You have free food and drinks, so indulge me,” he took his own seat on the floor between them. A Night at the Opera.

“Well this is eerie,” Tommy griminced and bit into another slice. His face lifted a moment later as the song changed gears, “Oh wait, no I change my mind, this is cool.”

“Have you found a new toy to replace me? Can you face me? But now you can kiss my ass goodbye Feel good, are you satisfied?”

Steve looked at Tommy and found him already looking back.

Billy coughed, “Next, Pretty Boy?”

“Bicycling on every Wednesday evening Thursday, I go waltzing to the zoo”

Tommy swayed with the steady smoothness, “I like this one, I like it a lot.” Billy’s thigh brushed and planted against Steve’s shoulder as they watched Tommy tap along. The touch sizzled excitingly.

“I'm in love with my car Got a feel for my automobile Get a grip on my boy-racer rollbar Such a thrill when your radials squeal“

Tommy’s face pinched just a little, nose wrinkled cutely, ”I don’t know about this one. Sounds like a song Billy might appreciate a bit more. WIth Margo and all that.”

Tommy smiled at Billy and Steve felt something churn in is tummy, “Margo?” he tilted his head back so it rested on Billy’s knee in order to look at him.

Billy sighed and tilted his own head back to take a sip of the beer can he'd been working on, “It’s my car’s name, after my dog when I was a kid.” Steve shifted back so he was facing the stereo again after nodding once.

“Oh, you're the first one when things turn out bad You know I'll never be lonely You're my only one And I love the things I really love the things that you do“

Tommy immediately smiled at the opening and his foot made its way from nudging him happily to resting in Steve’s lap, “This one is my favorite.”

“Really?” Steve and Billy asked simultaneously. Steve turned his head painfully fast and they stared in mutual shock. They were quick to get over it though and both went back to waiting for Tommy’s decisive nod. His eyes were closed and calm in enjoyment. So, Steve forcefully settled whatever Billy had stirred and did the same, back rested against both boy’s shins comfortably.

“My sweet lady Though it seems like we wait forever Stay sweet, baby Believe and we've got everything we need“

“That one was...interesting,” Tommy commented.

Billy snorted as Steve smiled, “I’d say.”

“I feel like dancing in the rain Can I have a volunteer? Just keep right on dancing What a damn jolly good idea“

Tommy smiled sweetly through the that one, Steve felt as though he didn’t need to ask why.

“I dreamed I saw on a moonlit stair Spreading his hands on the multitude there A man who cried for a love gone stale And ice cold hearts of charity bare“

“How come they are so short and so long at random? It’s weird,” Tommy leaned forward and grabbed another beer, condensation dripping onto Steve’s bare knee.

“Sometimes things are more difficult to interpret,” Billy answered. Steve leaned a little more into them as he felt his hips settle.

“Oh, back, hurry back Please bring it back home to me Because you don't know what it means to me Love of my life“

“That was kinda sad,” Billy was the one to say something between the track then.

Steve agreed, “Yeah, a little.” He felt eyes on his head but gazed instead on the slight glow to the stereo.

“Take good care of what you've got My father said to me As he puffed his pipe and baby B. He dandled on his knee Don't fool with fools who'll turn away Keep all good company“

Steve felt a leg press firmer into his shoulder and he laid his head on it, above him Billy sighed just above being silent, “How was that one, Tom?”

Tommy didn’t answer for a moment, “I’m not sure. It sounded good.” The feet in Steve’s lap crossed themselves jitteringly.

“Open your eyes, Look up to the skies and see, I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy, Because I'm easy come, easy go, Little high, little low“

“That one was freaky,” Tommy sat forward in awe, “But it was also awesome.” Eventually the last cord divvied out, all of them lazy with alcohol and sleepy with muddled calm that none of them had felt in a while. Although, Steve already was sleep on Billy’s knee. He didn’t get the chance to regret the beer he’d consumed before he was overrun with horrific, viney tunnels and humongous monsters. Screams of people he knew and cared for. Dustin, Nancy, his parents, Johnathon, El, Lucas. But what had him waking up in a bolt, yelping and screaming, was the one’s from Billy and Tommy. The pain those ones harbored, the ones that made Steve tremble too much to bare.

Heavy hands grasped his shoulders and softer ones held his face when he came to. He closed his mouth and the wailing stopped just as it had reached his ears.

“Steve! Steve- sh, it’s alright, Stevie,” Tommy’s voice filtered in subtly and he thought he heard a breeze from behind.

“We should get him to bed,” Billy said and the warmth from behind Steve was suddenly gone. He didn’t know what he must of done, was too out of it, but suddenly he was in someone's arms and being coddled.

“It’s okay, Pretty Boy, we’re still here.”

And then they were in a bed, and his room by the looks of the plaid and blue walls. He had two bodies on either side, and while the comfort he felt was something he couldn’t recognize. It was something new and he felt he should feel overwhelmed by all the sudden figures beside him. But instead he felt relieved and willingly open to allow these two boys in with limited hesitation. What a change in events. Truly.

“Talk to us, Stevie,” Tommy whispered in his ear.

“Have you heard of Blondie?” he whispered a bit hoarsely.

“No. Unless that’s Billy.”

“Add that to the list of things Tommy needs to learn about.” He got a slight tickle above his ribs in response from Billy. Steve held in his laugh as best he could but Billy didn’t stop the movement until he finally coughed out a yelp in protest. He tried his best to portray a steady glare in return but it didn’t quite work. “What about The Smiths?”

“Nadda.”

“Tears for Fears?”

“Mmm,” Tommy finally came into clear vision for Steve to see, even in the dark, “Maybe, maybe not.” He was grinning like the dumbass Steve knew he was. And then he was gone.

“Wah-?” he almost whined. Almost.

“Don’t worry, Stevie,” there was a clicking sound, “I’m just trying to culture you up a bit. Gotta keep you calm so we can actually get so sleep.” He laughed loudly when he seemingly found something. Tree branch arms coiled around Steve’s waist and he couldn’t be bothered to tell Billy off as the warmth radiated into his skin and heart.

Tommy came back while the Eurythmics, of all people, made some sort of soft noise through the room. And Tommy’s own hands somehow managed to sneak their way past Billy’s and just barely grazed his ass. The blanket bundled them all together and Steve felt as though he finally had the loves of his life in sight. That definite path made for him. Finally and just maybe.

send me headcannons!<3

#stranger things #asks #kegboys #steve harrington #billy hargrove #tommy h #tommy hagan #this sucks #but i’m tired so that’s like a partial excuse #thank you for the ask!#sorry it’s not the best

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stevesnailbat · 5 years ago

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waiting for (another) girl like you | steve harrington x wheeler!reader

summary: Steve didn’t plan on falling in love with his ex-girlfriend’s little sister, but shit happens.

warnings: angst, past trauma, self-doubt, mentions of death

word count: 2.3K

a/n: this fic was inspired by the ST1 scene where Steve and Nancy were in his bedroom bc waiting for a girl like you by foreigner is one of my favorite songs at the moment and it played during that scene. it might be a little dumb but i enjoyed writing it so enjoy! also the gif used isn’t mine, it’s from google :)

It wasn’t unusual for the Wheeler household to have family dinner on Sunday with the whole family and the kid’s boyfriends and girlfriends. Most of the time, the dining room was filled with happy chatter amongst everyone at the table. The table was still happy for the most part, but it was different for Steve and Y/N this time.

Steve wasn’t sure what was wrong, but Y/N had been dead silent since they started dinner. He felt like he had done something, but he wasn’t sure what it was. She could feel him glancing over to her every few minutes as she stared at her half-eaten food that she lost interest in. She knew he was confused but so was she.

“Y/N, are you alright? Aren’t you hungry, sweetie?” Karen asked from across the table, making everyone look in her direction.

“I’m—I’m fine! I’m really not hungry, that’s all.” she replied quickly, giving her mom a small smile even though she knew she could see right through it.

Her mom gave her a knowing look before turning back to Holly, who was tapping her shoulder frantically. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to look up at Steve, but she knew he was still looking down at her. She nearly winced when his hand reached for her thigh, giving her a comforting squeeze as he finally looked away. It was killing him that he didn’t know what was wrong, but he didn’t want to start something in the middle of a family dinner that could potentially end poorly.

The only thing on Y/N’s mind during dinner was Steve and Nancy, and the fact that she felt like a second pick to her sister in anything and everything. It was enough to make her appetite go away. She couldn’t look at him or her sister without feeling sick, her stomach tying itself into a tighter knot with every minute.

The rest of dinner felt like it took an eternity, and she only stared at her plate for the rest of the time. Steve tried to carry on a conversation with Jonathan while dinner finished up, but Y/N’s sad demeanor was distracting. She was the first to leave the dinner table, excusing herself without letting anyone know. She rushed up the stairs and into the bathroom she shared with Nancy, sliding her back down the wall to sit on the floor next to the toilet.

For the first time all night, she let out a quiet sob. Her thoughts made her dizzy and she felt like she couldn’t see straight, purely out of anger and spite. She knew she didn’t have much of a reason to be so upset, but the thoughts of Steve settling for her had been eating away at her mind for days.

A small knock on the door made her jump as she choked on another sob, her full attention going in that direction.

“Y—Yes?” she said, trying to make herself sound as put together as she could in the situation.

“Y/N, it’s me.” Steve said from the other side of the door, his ear on the door to hear her. “Can I come in?”

“No! Don’t!” she yelled, blocking the door handle quickly as she heard him sigh in frustration. “I—I think you should just go home, Steve. I don’t feel good right now.”

“You felt fine earlier, seriously, Y/N. What’s wrong?” he insisted, but got radio silence in reply. “Well, if you don’t want to tell me, I’ll just wait out here until you decide to let me in.”

“S—Steve, just go home, please.” she whimpered, leaning against the door as she spoke through it.

“I told you, I’m not going home! I’m not leaving you when you’re upset, even if you won’t tell me what I did wrong.” he said, settling down on the floor outside of the bathroom. “I’ll wait for you, even if it means I’m out here all night.”

In that moment, she hated how good of a boyfriend Steve actually was. She felt like she was punched in the gut when he suggested that he did something wrong but couldn’t figure out what it was because she knew he was eating himself alive about. She didn’t really know why she was even mad at him, but she couldn’t help it. Steve truly was wracking his brain for any small details of what he could’ve done wrong in the last day, but couldn’t think of anything. On one side of the door, Steve listened to his girlfriend struggling to hold back sniffles and small sobs. On the other side of the door, Y/N was listening to the words for Waiting for a Girl Like You replay in her mind.

Minutes turned into an hour as they sat on the floor, neither of them daring to acknowledge the person on the other side of the door. Jonathan and El were gone by this point and Mike was in the basement while Karen was trying to get Holly to bed finally. Nancy walked up the stairs to see Steve leaned against the bathroom door, a feeling of guilt running through them both.

“She won’t come out.” Steve sighed when Nancy gave him a sympathetic smile.

Nancy only shrugged when he looked in her direction, not wanting to upset the girl on the other side of the door who was listening intently. Steve ran his hand through his hair and leaned his head against the door as Nancy walked into her bedroom, listening for any sign of Y/N wanting to come out.

“Y/N, please. I just want to talk! We can talk, right?” he pleaded.

“We can talk right here.” she said bluntly as she stared at the wall in front of her, not wanting him to see her tear-stained cheeks and red eyes.

“No, please, baby.” he begged, reaching up for the door handle but stopping himself from trying to open it. “I want to see you, I can’t understand what’s going on unless I can talk to you face-to-face.”

The other side of the door was silent for a moment while Y/N thought about what to do next. She knew how stubborn Steve was, and she knew he wasn’t giving up any time soon. It was useless for her to tell him to leave again, even though she was afraid to tell him how she really was feeling. But, she pushed past her doubts and opened the door, curling up into herself as she did to hide her face.

“I can talk to you face-to-face if you won’t look at me.” Steve joked, nudging her arm softly. “Please look at me. What’s going on?”

“It’s stupid.” she mumbled. “It’s just a bunch of bullshit.”

“W—What?” Steve stammered, taken aback by the word bullshit being muttered to him by another Wheeler sibling.

“This! It’s stupid! Pretending like I don’t think about you dating Nancy? Pretending like I believe that you love me? Pretending like everything’s okay?” she said, finally looking up at him as she threw her arms in defeat. “Do I look like everything’s okay?”

“No—No, you don’t. But I—“

“Are you over Nancy?” she asked abruptly, watching him cautiously.

“Of course I am!” he said immediately, making her sigh in relief that he didn’t take a second thought.

“Do you still love her?” she questioned, the words harder to force from her throat this time.

“No. No. I don’t.” Steve said desperately while staring at her as she stared blankly at the wall in front of her, emotionless. “I love you.”

“Today when we were on the way to my house for dinner, that—that Foreigner song that I love was playing, Waiting for a Girl Like You. I was trying to remember who showed me the song, but I just—I just couldn’t remember for the life of me. But then, you turned the radio station and I saw the look on your face. You looked sad, like someone had just killed a puppy in front of you.” she began, not daring to look at him as she spoke. “That’s when it clicked, Nance showed me that song two years ago. She played it every damn day after things were good again.”

“Y/N, I don’t—“ Steve started, but she held her hand up to cut him off.

“I want to finish, Steve.” she sighed and he nodded quickly, recoiling against the wall. “That was the song you played for her when you guys—you know—did whatever on that night she snuck over with Barb. She was so in love with that song because it was so special for you guys, she told me that she’d never stop listening to it. But—But she did stop. And when she did was when she realized she fell out of love with you. But you—you never fell out of love like she did. You loved her until the end and—and you hate that song because you think that maybe there’s a possibility that you still love her, not me. I was just the closest thing you could get to her.”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh under his breath as he shook his head. As much as he wanted to deny it, she wasn’t completely wrong. He didn’t realize that he had continued laughing until he looked up to see the broken expression on his girlfriend’s face.

“Why are you even laughing right now?” she asked, shaking her head as she watched the small smile fall from his face.

“Because—I don’t know, honestly. Maybe because you’re halfway right?” he said, not knowing the answer to his own question. “But, not about still being in love with Nancy, of course. I don’t love her and I haven’t for a while now. I do hate that song, though. But it’s because it reminds me of the last time that my life was good.”

The words bit into her heart like a goddamn demogorgon, hungry to hurt her in any way possible. Steve didn’t mean it in the way that she took it, though. She could tell he didn’t by the look on his face, so she stayed quiet while he paused to take a hitched breath.

“It was that night that I thought my life was on the up and up, but it really wasn’t. It went to shit after that day. We—we killed Barb—“

“You didn’t kill her—“

“Yeah, we didn’t kill her. But we let that thing, that monster, take her because I was stupid and didn’t think of anybody but myself because I was an asshole. Then everything went downhill and my girlfriend fell out of love with me, I didn’t even notice but you know why?” he asked bitterly and she shook her head. “Because I was still holding onto what I thought I had with her. But I was really just holding onto that god-forsaken night, the last night when everything my life alright. And I’d listen to that song too, even after the end I did. When I stopped listening to it was when I realized I had found better things, when I found you.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” she seethed, clenching her jaw to hold herself together.

“But I’m not! Once Nancy broke things off, I—I believed that nothing would ever go right for me. Everyone thought everything was fine, right? Because I had to put on a show for the sake of my family.” he confessed.

His voice finally showing signs of pain as he spoke this time, but he didn’t want to hold back. He was rambling at this point, but it was comforting for both of them in some odd way. His sanity was hanging on by a thread that unraveled just a little more with every tear she let slip, but they were slowing down now.

“I acted like things were okay and held onto that damn night like my life depended on it. Because after that night, I became the best damn actor, I became the best stupid, happy teen boy that Hawkins had ever seen; I even believed the act I was putting on.” he sighed, leaning his head against the wall to stare at the ceiling.

“You were looking for a distraction from your acting and I was convenient.” she replied quietly. “The naïve little sister of your ex who wouldn’t take a second glance at the bigger picture of how stupid it all was, right?”

“No—No. You weren’t convenient at all, really.” he laughed, reaching to graze his fingertips across her knuckles. “It wasn’t easy when everyone was telling me it wasn’t worth it, that it’d be too weird to try to even talk to you, that you probably didn’t want me like I wanted you. But I didn’t listen because I saw that look in your eyes when you smiled at me, you looked happy and—and like you wanted to be with me; I ignored everyone because I knew it was worth it. So no, you weren’t convenient. You were far from it, you kinda still are. I think you’re worth it.”

She still stared at the wall in front of her as she let his words process in her mind, the feeling of his fingers against her knuckles soothing her. He watched as she tore herself apart inside, trying to find her own answers.

“You know you’re not my second choice, right?” he interjected, making her eyes flicker in his direction as he squeezed her hand. “If Nancy wanted me back, I wouldn’t care. I know she came first, but that doesn’t mean shit. I didn’t realize that you were right in front of me and that you’d bring so much happiness to my life.”

“You’re so cheesy.” she scoffed as her heart fluttered when he smiled in her direction.

“It’s true! I swear, it really is, Y/N. I love you.” he said as he moved towards her, taking her head in his hands to look into her eyes.

“I love you too, Steve.” she said softly, smiling at him for the first time all night as she leaned over to kiss him softly.

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marmolady · 4 years ago

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Home for Christmas (Estela x MC)

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC

Summary: Endless Ending. It's Taylor's first Christmas off La Huerta, and the beginning of new traditions with her found family.

Word Count: 6127

Chronology: carries on from ‘Date Night’, and ‘When the Fight is Over’, precedes ‘A Proposal’.

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove

“We’re home!” Taylor called as she stepped through the front door, immediately hit with a wall of warmth and the smells of spiced candles and fir tree. “Happy Christmas Eve, everyone!”

Diego practically bounced to the door, and wrapped his friend in a hug. “Wait, does this mean you’re the gift? Talk about cheap.”

“Hahaha, you’re hilarious. Actually, you should be grateful to have me. I could be helping myself to seconds of Tio Nicolas’ natilla right now. Sadly, airlines don’t tend to let you bring custardy leftovers on board.”

Estela grinned, wiping her snow-covered boots on the mat. “It’d be mush by now anyway. I’m sure Tio will take much better care of it.”

A year ago, everything was so different. Christmas had been, at best, a bittersweet occasion, the shadow of all that had been left behind in a burning world. It had been Taylor’s consolation prize; she’d die in a matter of weeks, but at least she had a semblance of a proper holiday season with the ones she loved.

The share house, purchased by Estela with what had been Aleister’s inheritance passed on, had been somewhat emptier than usual; most of the Catalysts had been desperate to spend the season close to family after having thought them lost forever for so long. With all the space going spare, Aleister and Grace had taken up residence, forsaking their apartment so they could keep Diego company during what was a difficult time for him. Estela and Taylor had, of course, been in San Trobida with Nicolas, sharing a family Christmas Eve-- the first Estela had actually celebrated with her uncle since just a few short days before her mother’s murder. It had been strange to let the occasion be happy, but as the day wore on, she settled into the feeling, warmed by the clear joy in Nicolas. By the time they’d flown all the way back to the States and driven back from Northbridge airport, it was getting on for midnight… almost Christmas Day.

Grace came skipping down the hall, Aleister a little way behind her.

“Merry Christmas, you two!”

“Happy Christmas!” Taylor opened her arms wide, accepting another tight hug. “I can’t believe you guys all stayed up. We said it was gonna be late….”

“Oh, don’t be silly! We’ve missed you. So much I almost don’t feel bad about tearing you away from all that San Trobidan sunshine.”

Estela hugged Grace, who barely came up to her chin. Her sister. “Christmas is for family. Tio is Colombian, so it’s all about Christmas Eve for him… it kind of works well now that my family’s a little bigger.”

There was sadness in Grace’s eyes… deep and profound. Estela saw it there, and it made her heart hurt. She had a lot of things she’d like to say about Grace’s mother, but none that had their place here and now. How anyone could remain cold after over a year of separation-- a disappearance no less-- boggled her mind. But Grace was Estela’s family now, and that came with no expectations, no strings attached. Perhaps someday Blaire Hall would see what exactly it was that she’d been missing out on, but in the meantime, Grace would be given all the familial love she could ever need.

Taylor turned around from hugging a typically awkward Aleister to catch Diego’s eye. “Hey, if you want to check out your actual gift, try the back door.”

“Uh, Tay… what have you done?”

“Just go look! Jeez, so ungrateful….” Taylor exchanged knowing glances with the rest of her companions once Diego was safely down the hallway.

“Oh. My. God!” came a cry from the back room. “Ohmygod. I think I’m gonna cry… oh my-- Varyyn!”

Grace chuckled. “I think you guys just won Christmas!”

“I know, right?” Taylor said, grinning broadly. Having brought Varyyn to San Trobida a couple of days prior so he could fly into the States with them for Christmas was a big undertaking… but somehow they’d managed to keep the secret. “Whoever’s got Diego for Secret Santa is gonna have to bring it.”

Grace and Aleister followed after Diego, excited to reunite with a friend they’d not seen in months. For all intents and purposes, Varyyn was the thirteenth Catalyst-- and as far as anyone was concerned, as part of the family as anyone else. It would take some assistance from Iris’ wizardry with holographic disguises, but Varyyn would be kept safe, and given a holiday to remember.

Listening to the joyous chattering of her best friend as he hurriedly got the full story of Varyyn’s surprise visit right from the source, Taylor smiled to herself as she slumped against the wall, exhausted. Late nights were something she still struggled with since her recovery from Vaanu’s essence leaving her-- though the slew of parties that came with moving into a house with half the Catalyst gang had built up her resilience a little. She noticed a sprig of mistletoe hanging over the doorway to the hall, and sidled over. All those kisses she’d shared with Estela last Christmas… they’d been goodbyes. Taylor didn’t ever want to kiss Estela goodbye again; she wanted to kiss her to say ‘I love you’, or ‘I’m yours, forever’, or ‘sling me over your shoulder and carry me to bed’. Anything but ‘goodbye’.

Estela caught Taylor’s eye, and a smirk. Just a flash of a tease-- a dare. Such a freaking dork. And, of course, she had to go to her. She would always go to her.

Taylor swayed exaggeratedly, a pout on her lips, as she glanced --with all the subtlety of an army tank-- at the mistletoe above their heads. “So… are you gonna ki--?”

No further prompting was needed; Estela covered Taylor’s mouth in a searing kiss, while her hands roamed along her sides and back, holding… feeling. It was all she could do not to quirk a satisfied smile at the moan against her lips as her tongue swirled against Taylor’s. She could do this for… well, she could go without breath for fourteen minutes, but that could never be enough. How could she need air when she had this?

“I fucking love you, Taylor….” she gasped when she finally came away.

“...Buh…?” was the wordless sound that fell out of Taylor’s mouth as she wobbled on the spot. It took a moment for her to bring herself back to her senses, to return to earth from whatever heavenly realm she’d just been swept into. “I love you, Estela. I love you.”

She took Estela’s face in her hands, and kissed her hard, relishing the force, the passion with which her lover reciprocated. It was fierce and triumphant, all theirs after coming so close to it all being snatched away. My Estela. I’m yours, forever.

“Aw, what?” Diego exclaimed as he came into the hall, Varyyn’s hand clasped in his. “We’ve got a mistletoe traffic jam! Come on, Tay-- I haven’t seen him in weeks. Pretty, pretty please?”

Coming away with a little groan, Taylor looked into the disgruntled face of her best friend, at had to smile. It wasn’t possible to resent the interruption when She gave an exaggerated sigh. “Someone should’ve bought more mistletoe….”

“Hey! My expectations for kissing were so low--”

Taylor laughed, perhaps a little intoxicated by the lingering buzz of that kiss. “Oh, we’ll get out your hair. There’s some things best done with a little more privacy.” She wiggled her eyebrows at Estela, who was still looking at her as if oblivious to the presence of anyone else. All shining tenderness. It made her damn near melt on the spot. “Shall we?”

Estela nipped in for one last quick peck to her wife’s lips. “Okay… done.” She glanced to Diego and Varyyn with a slight smirk. “You two have fun. Before you have to fight off Grace and Aleister.”

Having dumped their backpacks unceremoniously to the floor, Taylor and Estela fell onto their bed in a mess of loving touches and joyous giggles.

“Happy Christmas, sexy lady,” Taylor purred.

Estela blushed, glancing away momentarily before stealing another kiss.

“Te deseo con el fuego ardiente de mil soles. Eres mia, amante. Mi todo.”

“I have no idea what you just said… so why do I have shivers going up my spine?”

With a breathy laugh, Estela snuggled into the crook of Taylor’s neck. My everything. She could never take for granted what she had, some miracle that had meant Taylor could stay, that this was not, in fact, a dream. But she woke up each morning, and there Taylor was, and it was a balm for every hurt she’d ever been dealt.

“Hey?” she murmured.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And… before we went to sleep… I wanted you to have something. Seeing as we’re actually doing gifts this year.”

Taylor quirked an eyebrow, playing cool when all she really wanted to do was dive in her drawer and bring out her own gift. She’d been working on it a long time. “Okay-- just give me a moment. I’ve got something for you too. I’ll just change into my PJs first; gotta be comfortable.”

While Estela quickly got into her pyjamas, she glanced over at Taylor, unable to hold back a smile. God, she was beautiful. Estela reluctantly turned away to rummage for her gift.

“Happy Christmas, Taylor,” she said, leaning in to kiss her lover’s cheek as she handed over the carefully wrapped parcel.

A warm smile spread across Taylor’s face. After the heartache the previous Christmas had come with, this was so wonderfully comfortable.

“Happy Christmas, ‘Stel.”

Taylor delicately pulled off the tape, trying not to rip the paper, and revealed a fat hard-cover book. It was heavy in her hands, full to bursting, slithers of paper peeking out the edges. A photo album.

“Wow, Estela… how did you do this?” she asked as she began to turn the pages. On the first page, the group selfie Michelle had taken just before the confrontation with Rourke-- which had been recovered from IRIS’ data bank-- and what followed was a chronological record of Taylor’s two years on Earth. There she was… holding a mewing pink kitten, a Valentine’s Day present… wind-surfing with Varyyn… dressed up to the nines for what had become the traditional Catalyst New Years-Multi-Birthday extravaganza. She’d not even seen most of them before. This must have been the complete repository of every photograph her friends had ever snapped on their phones during their year on La Huerta. Beside the photographs, her friends had scrawled notes and captions.“I mean, how did you get all these? Was everyone in on this?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Of course, you ask for help with these people and they go crazy with it. So it’s a little bit bigger than I first had in mind.”

More and more pictures. More and more memories. Taking her back to herself at her most weak and vulnerable, recovering from the release of Vaanu’s essence that had almost killed her. Friends crowded around her sick bed… then the celebrations that followed.

“There’s still room in the back,” Estela said. “For whatever it is next year brings.”

“Bring on 2020,” Taylor laughed. “I don’t think there’s anything it could throw at me I can’t handle; not now.” I’ve got you, don’t I? She looked up into Estela’s smiling face and loved her, her own eyes welling. “Thank you-- so much. Looking at this… I must be the luckiest person who ever lived. Nothing’s ever gonna be the same-- thank god-- but this time in our lives has been incredible, and this is just gonna keep it all with me. I love it. I really love it.”

Estela’s cheeks flushed. She could never tire of making Taylor’s face light up like that; glowing with joy. “Good. Because I love you.”

“And I love you too-- my starlight.” Taylor edged closer until she could tug Estela into a tight snuggle, and planted a soft kiss to her lips. Bliss. Then, she reached behind her pillow and brought out a squashy-looking present. “For you, my lover.”

Estela giggled and stole another kiss before accepting the gift. “It’s okay, I won’t have a meltdown this time.” Out of the wrapper fell a soft woolen bundle of dark blues and purples, accented with stars. An infinity scarf, homemade and endearingly lumpy.

“Taylor, it’s beautiful.” Estela hugged the scarf to her chest. She could feel the love interwoven through the whole thing, and the symbolism of the stars… and their forever.

“I tried to arrange the stars roughly into our constellations. Limited success, but if you squint--”

Estela hooked the scarf around her wife’s neck and tugged her in for a kiss. “It’s perfect, you dope. I absolutely love it. And I love you-- to the furthest star in the universe and back.” She took Taylor’s hands, and saw those stars in her eyes, shining just for her. “This just… feels like a dream. Like if a year ago, we’d wished and prayed to who and whatever the hell might have been listening… this is more than I could have dared hope for.”

“A scarf?”

Estela playfully swatted Taylor about the head.

“No, I know,” Taylor laughed airily. She leaned in and kissed Estela’s nose, her cheeks, her full, tender lips. This holiday season wasn’t an effort in consolation, it was a foundation being laid for a full, human life. Moments that would become traditions. “It’s everything I never thought I could have,” she said softly. “And I am just so, so excited to have this with you, year after year.”

“Me too.”

Leaving her scarf on, Estela snuggled under the heavy blanket and nestled in against Taylor. She yawned, happy-tired. It was a wonderful feeling, running from her head to her toes. She let her hands roam; caressing Taylor’s chest, torso, then venturing beneath her pyjama pants to settle between her legs.

Taylor let out a pleasured hum, but kept herself together enough to reciprocate; she did love a challenge. Her movements were slow, purposeful; knowing exactly how to elicit the whimpers that told her she’d got Estela coming apart in the best way.

The two lovers touched, caressed, kissed, until they lay, spent, in one another’s arms. Estela surrounded Taylor like a blanket; a protective shield. She’d gotten… better. No longer did Estela hold her wife in a vice-grip through the night, fearful that she’d be somehow ripped away. But the touch, close and persistent… she couldn’t settle without it. Someday, they both hoped, the sense of security in their new lives together would be enough. In the meantime, Taylor could sleep safe and utterly loved, her Estela keeping her close.

“Mmm… you ready to call it a night?” Taylor murmured.

Estela closed her eyes and nuzzled against her wife’s neck. “Mmhmm.”

“Ha. Sweet dreams, babe. And Merry Christmas.”

“You too, querida… night-night.”

_______________________

Christmas morning was slow and easy, with all three sets of couples content to take their time in rising. Between warm beds and tender arms… and no real reason to rush, it was inevitable that the share house would remain quiet long into the morning.

When everyone did rise, the atmosphere was incredibly relaxed; the quiet enjoyment of the company of close family refreshing. It would be soon enough that the share house would be once again bursting at the seams and pulsing with the sounds of another rowdy Catalyst gathering; saving up energy for what was to come was wise… and the pace suited everyone present. Rugged up in festive pyjamas and lounging before a roaring fire, the small family passed the hours with board games-- purposely bypassing the tantrum-inducing likes of Monopoly-- and giggling through ever more extravagantly acted out rounds of charades. It was all new to Varyyn, and he soaked it all up like a sponge, throwing himself into everything to the point where he was nearly matching Aleister for dramatic flair. Estela’s ability to act out absolutely anything with a perfect deadpan had the whole group in stitches.

This, Taylor was certain, was what her holidays were going to be all about. Her and her band of misfits had everything they needed in one another.

Taylor, dressed after having enjoyed a brunch so late it might as well have been lunch-- and not an early one at that--, found Grace on the front porch, sitting with a steaming mug of cocoa and just taking in the distant sounds of children at play a few doors down. On the snow-covered front lawn, Furball was gamboling around merrily. If Varyyn was going to be joining them for Christmas, it had only been fair to make it an open invitation, and the little magic fox had been too excited to see old friends to not be brought along. Taylor was now grateful that Grace had the company, even as she took a quiet moment.

“Are you okay out here? Al said you gave your mom a call earlier. I figured that might have been… stressful.”

A warm smile jumped to Grace’s face at the arrival of her friend-- her sister. The care there had the effect of lessening those stresses, fading them into the distance, where they no longer truly mattered.

“Hey, Taylor,” she said. “Yes, I got that call out the way; I didn’t want the worry to be hanging over me all day. We kept it short. It’s gotten more difficult to find an understanding, you know?” She gave a little sigh, and shook her head. “To Mom, it looks as if I’ve given up, stopped trying. But the only thing I’ve given up is chasing the approval I’ll never earn. All I can do is hope that someday, she’ll look and see the real me; and love that person.”

Taylor put an arm around Grace. “You know, I really think that will happen. Someday. It’s got to take a bit of adjustment for her….”

“And she’s not exactly used to being the one jumping through hoops,” Grace chuckled. “Even jumping through hoops that should take minimal effort. In the meantime, I’m happy. Really, truly happy. We never had Christmases like this-- she never had the time. This is nice. It feels like a real family Christmas… spending all morning in our pyjamas, siblings squabbling over something stupid….”

Taylor laughed. It was all good-natured, if occasionally little bit heated. Estela and Aleister were well-practiced at butting heads by this point, and Taylor had strong suspicions that Estela liked getting a rise out of him just to tease. She absolutely exasperated him. And they loved each other.

“Yeah,” she said, “maybe this is what our Christmases are gonna be. Our little family, glued together from all these broken pieces and somehow fitting just right. It’s weird; just about everyone has been shaped some way by their childhood memories of these holidays… I don’t have any of that nostalgia, or old sore spots… just this, now. I guess these days are what I’m going to end up all sentimental about.”

“I know it sounds strange, but… me too, Taylor,” Grace agreed, smiling as her husband’s voice floated out from the house, seeking her out. She couldn’t say when the last time was that someone had truly wanted her company at Christmas was, but those days were a thing of the past. “And right now, I think I want to be back in there, soaking it all up. Come on.”

“Should we put a movie on while we’re waiting for everyone?”

“Tay, you know my response to that. Maybe Home Alone or something. Should go down better than Muppet Christmas Carol did the other day….”

“Good god,” Aleister scoffed, “that was a mistake. Poor Charles Dickens, rest his soul, his timeless tale could not have been more lost on--”

Estela strode into the room, as if on cue. “The fucker, Scrooge knowingly killed so many people-- including that future version of Tiny Tim, which we can safely assume because it was the bastard’s ‘change of heart’ bullcrap that saved him.”

“Well, Tim wouldn’t have lived if Kermit-- I mean, Bob Cratchit-- hadn’t embraced the changed man before him. The point is redemption. ”

“Yes, he would. Scrooge was so desperate not to die himself that he’d keep the whole damn town fed and housed. Doesn’t mean you’d invite the cockroach in and share dinner with him. Those people were idiots!”

“You might even say they were… muppets,” Diego piped up, a glint in his eye.

Aleister groaned heavily, so utterly done, while Taylor snorted with laughter.

“Home Alone it is, then,” he muttered.

The main event, the full Catalyst family gathering, would be taking place later in the evening. Even with families at home to re-connect with over Christmas, the pull to be together was present in each and every one of them. No one else-- no one at all-- could ever truly understand. The sense of belonging, of security found in those who’d weathered the same storms, created a need that was deep and profound. Stepping away would be gradual, and for this first Christmas home, that the twelve would not remain parted. Raj only had a short flight from his grandmother in New York, so he was first to arrive back home. Both the duos-- Craig-and-Zahra and Michelle-and-Quinn-- had longer flights between home and the families they’d shared most of the holiday with, but arrived in at Northbridge airport at near the same time, so Sean had pre-arranged to play taxi after a Christmas dinner with his mother and brother. Jake would be the straggler. Louisiana was rather more of a trek, and after all those years in forced isolation from his family, he would not be rushing for anyone.

The backyard had been transformed into a nighttime winter wonderland, a snowy playground adorned with lights that changed colour to the beat of Christmas songs piped out into the winter air. A snowball fight stretched across the hours, and carols were easily drowned out by the accompanying shrieks and shouts of laughter.

When Taylor crashed down into the snow beside her wife, she was soaked and shivering from taking hit after hit, and still grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, you put up a valiant fight,” Estela laughed. “Especially because Sean is, you know, pretty much a professional at throwing stuff. If you like, I’ll get back out there and avenge your honour… for a price.”

“A kiss?”

“Well, that would be hard to resist.”

Estela leaned forward, catching the warmth of Taylor’s breath on her lips as she moved in for a tender kiss. When Taylor came away with a happy sigh, they pressed their foreheads together.

They settled down, side by side, looking out over their friends as they laughed and played. The energy was different. Emotions were running high, everything felt on a new level, one that no one beyond this found family could ever understand. No one else knew just how much was being celebrated that Christmas… no one else knew all that had once been lost.

For Taylor, it was validation for the leap of faith she and Estela had taken together, the one that very nearly had cost their future together.

“Michelle was just telling me,” she said, “her mom flew out to Colorado to have Christmas with Quinn’s parents. Quinn’s parents like… together, in the same room, actually getting along. And it was three years, Meech said, since she’s seen her mom at Christmas. She just looked so happy.”

She snuggled close, tucking her arm through Estela’s, and nuzzling against her cold cheek. On a night like this, she couldn’t have any regrets. On a night like this, she could rest her so often troubled mind and know, they’d made it. She whispered kisses through Estela’s hair, against her ear, red with cold, her rosy cheek, the edge of her knowing smile.

“It’s going to be okay now, Estela. My starlight,” she said softly.

“I know. It’s like something you can physically feel. Like everyone’s just floating on a cloud. That kind of pure relief.” Estela hadn’t even felt that when the war ended, when the son-of-a-bitch Salazar took his own life and in doing so set his country free. She’d had her own wars still to fight, both against Rourke and within her very soul. When Taylor had awoken after her sacrifice to save the world, the fear in her had lingered on. Time was Estela’s healer; time allowed her to trust that life could be kind to her, that she was not inevitably hurtling towards darkness and despair and loss. Sometimes, things just got better.

She found Taylor’s fingers, surely as painfully cold in the night air as her own, and squeezed.

Diego came running up to them. “Hey! I’m just about to head to the airport with Varyyn. I should be an hour, tops.”

Taylor’s face registered surprise. How late was it? “Shit, Top Gun’s landing soon!”

“Ha, yeah… that’s my point. Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun?”

“We could come with if you like.”

“Thanks, Tay, but I actually wanted to take the time alone with Varyyn. Make the most of what we have-- and it’s dark out, and hardly any traffic; it’ll be nice for him to get out and see the town without too much risk.”

Taylor nodded, understanding. “Okay. But you drive safe, you hear? If you end up dead in a ditch because you can’t keep from kissing him for five minutes, I swear I---”

Diego cut her off with a hug. “And you, don’t drink too much. You are the world’s biggest lightweight.”

Estela sniggered. Taylor’s ability to stand up to the effects of alcohol had been one of the hits she’d taken as a side-effect of her giving back Vaanu’s essence. “I’ll say. Now the driving’s taken care of, I’m pretty sure I’ll be needing to hold her upright within fifteen.”

“Oh, you two are hilarious. Fine. I’ll be good if you will. Now get out of here and bring our pilot home-- Craig is desperate to get Secret Santa started!”

Secret Santa was the big event. The one everyone had been waiting for. It had taken Taylor a good deal of scheming and bribing and trading, but she’d managed to secure for Estela the ideal Secret Santa recipient for the brilliant couples gift that she had in mind. For hours upon hours they’d toiled together on their secret project, with Taylor enthusiastically teaching Estela to knit for the purpose. It was only a couple of nights ago that they’d finally finished off their respective masterpieces.

Taylor was practically skipping when she presented her gift to a distinctly nervous-looking Zahra.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

“Open it, Z!” Craig exclaimed.

Estela hurried over, her own worryingly lumpy parcel in hand. “Hey, Craig! You should open yours too. It’s kind of a set.”

“Why do I have a very bad feeling about this?”

An eager crowd formed, jostling to see what it was Zahra was fussing about.

She pulled open the wrapping, determined to witness whatever disaster awaited her before Craig opened his… and found in her hands a very large bright red Christmas sweater, ‘Player One’ emblazoned in big woollen letters on the front, and ‘P1’ on the back.

“Um, Taylor… you remember when you almost killed yourself restoring the world, right?”

“Kinda sticks in the memory, so… yeah.”

“ I stayed up all night, with Estela in the worst possible mood-- have you met bad-mood-Estela?-- making sure you didn’t drop dead; three long, soul-destroying nights in a row… and this is the thanks I get?”

“Bro! I love it!” Craig hollered, holding up his ‘Player Two’ sweater. “Best freaking present ever-- when I die, Imma get buried in this thing!”

“So, uh… mixed reviews?”

“If you think I’m gonna wear this---”

“Put it on! Put it on! Put it on!”

Zahra glared at Taylor, then Estela, while Craig’s chants were taken up by the whole group. For fuck’s sake. I knew friends were a mistake. I should have stayed dead in that goddam temple.

“Put it on! Put it on!”

Jake barked a laugh, offering Taylor a gift of his own. “Nice one, Princess! You’ve set the bar high-- as if there was ever any doubt-- but I’m pretty sure you’ll like this.”

She opened her heavy present to find a gently-used old sewing machine. Her eyes lit up. It had been a passing, passing mention that with so much knitting under her belt that she’d wanted to give sewing a try as well, but apparently it hadn’t gone unheard.

“Oh my god!”

“Ma hadn’t used it for ages, and when I told her I was after something for you, she wanted you to have it. Consider it a thanks from both of us for all you did while we were dealing with the courts.”

Taylor found her eyes stinging. She didn’t need thanks, he was good as a brother to her. “Wow, Top Gun. This is…. surprisingly--”

“...surprisin’ly thoughtful?”

“That’s it. Surprisingly thoughtful,” she laughed. When she looked up and caught Jake’s eye, though, she knew he got it. There was nothing surprising about it, after all they’d been through together, she’d never expect anything less than thoughtful-- but she’d be damned if she let the old joke die.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the present-exchanging horde, Sean handed to Estela a small, soft parcel. “Happy Christmas! I hope you like it.”

“Thank you, Sean, I really appreciate it. I’d say you didn’t have to but… Secret Santa… I guess you’re probably expected to actually get your person something.” No doubt she was flushed red, awkward as ever, but accepting gifts was another thing she was slowly getting better at. She unwrapped her gift carefully, saving the paper and appreciating the care that had gone into the neat wrapping and embellishments.

Sean chuckled, not unkindly. “That is the general gist. But it’s my pleasure, really.”

Estela unfolded a lightweight muted green and grey Hartfeld University sweatshirt. She couldn’t help the smile that lit up her whole face. “I guess this means I’ve got to stick around?”

“You’d better.” Sean grinned as Estela put her arms around him, laughing. Damn, they’d come a long way. “I know you never intended coming here to be anything other than a means to get closer to your goal, but really, that’s why everyone comes here. If anyone’s a Knight, you are.”

“Thanks. Really… I love it.”

“KNIGHTS!” Craig boomed.

“Uh, yeah,” Estela said. “That.”

With gifts and hugs exchanged all over the place, everyone began to wind down. For most of the gang, the day had been an exhausting one, crammed with emotional family get-togethers and flights across the country. As mattresses and sofa pillows hit the lounge room floor, there was a shared relief, and tired Catalysts began dropping like flies.

Huddled in a couple of beanbags, Taylor nestled into Estela’s chest and the soft fabric of her new sweater, wrapping her arms around her and sighing with contentment.

“Happy Christmas, lover….”

“Mmm…,” came Estela’s sleepy reply. “Happy Christmas, mi alma…. Love you.”

“Love you too. Always.”

Within moments, Estela was slumbering peacefully, her little snores making Taylor’s heart near burst with affection.

Through half-lidded eyes, Taylor looked upon her family around her, yawning or already dead to the world after one insanely hectic holiday. It wouldn’t always be this way. It couldn’t be. Over the years, they would drift their separate ways, cherish the time spent with loved ones elsewhere as old traditions and new played out. But Taylor was certain that they’d never truly grow apart. Some things were just far stronger than the tests of time.

From across the room, Varyyn exchanged a knowing look with Taylor, smiling wistfully as he continued to gently stroke his fingers through a sleeping Diego’s hair.

“G’night,” she mouthed, then let go of an exhale of contentment.

It didn’t matter how long this lasted; what was important would remain. As long as she had Estela in her arms, and her family loving her from however far they had to be, she’d always be home for Christmas.

#catalyst family feels #estela x mc #endless summer #playchoices #estela montoya #variego

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