#god this movie is dumb i have enjoyed every stupid second of it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

extravaguk · 3 years

Text

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook fic

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shrack · 2 years

Text

the steve situation

Eddie and his friends go to Scoops Ahoy, but Eddie's not expecting Steve to be standing behind the counter.

2.3k words, G — also on ao3

Starcourt mall, if Eddie’s being completely honest, kind of rules. He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that he actually kind of enjoys it there—but most of that has to do with the neon lights and the fact that the movie theater actually shows all the fucked up horror movies that he’d previously have to travel back to Indianapolis for. It’s also a perfect spot for him and his Corroded Coffin buddies to hang out that isn’t Gareth’s garage or in the woods by Eddie’s trailer, so any night those two are sounding boring, or there’s no Hellfire, the mall is where they go.

He’s not paying any mind. He and his friends have come into this ice cream shop a solid amount of times before, so Eddie doesn’t think to consider this encounter any differently. The girl who’s always helping them out—Robin, who Eddie clocked almost immediately and successfully struck up conversation with back at school—always hooks them up with the senior discount. But as Eddie turns from his conversation, disaster strikes. Because behind the counter, looking as bored as Eddie has ever seen him in the maybe one, two classes they’ve shared over the years, is Steve Harrington.

Now, Eddie has a lot of questions. Mainly: Why the hell is Steve Harrington working at a nautical themed ice cream shop? How is this news to Eddie? And, for fuck’s sake, why him?

Instead of voicing any of these, Eddie spins on a heel and walks right back out the open doorway.

Gareth, who was standing behind him, immediately gets shoulder checked in the process, and yelps, “Hey! What the fuck—“ while Jeff is saying some dumb shit like, “Come on man, what gives?” and Grant is combination laughing and cooing at the whole situation. It’s fucking stupid.

“Just—just shut up!” Eddie snaps, voice going high and raspy when he does. It’s a classic Munson tantrum, hands shaking by either side of his head, eyes squeezed shut so he can hear himself fucking think for a second.

“Classic Munson tantrum,” Grant mutters, elbowing Jeff in the side, Jeff now joined in on the quiet, mocking laughter.

“Just—“ Eddie snaps, standing up straight and tugging on the sides of his vest to straighten himself out. “Give me a second.”

Gareth claps a hand onto Eddie’s shoulder. The motion’s a little awkward, considering that the dude’s shorter than him. “We all know about the Steve Situation, alright, and we get it. But I swear to god if I miss out on my sundae because you can’t get your shit together to talk to that guy—“

“I know I know I know,” Eddie says quickly, cutting Gareth off with a wave of his hand. “Just, Jesus dude I’m gonna see that uniform every time I close my eyes for the next week. I gotta have a plan of attack.”

“The plan of attack is you try to see if Robin’s out back and can come give us our fuckin’ discount.”

“No, dude, come on.” Eddie circles his arm around to pat the small of Gareth’s back and says, “I got this.”

He jerks his head towards the front of the store to signal them to follow his lead, then stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and sighs.

“Ahoy there. Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, I’m Steve Harrington,” Steve announces, deadpan, like Eddie knows they have to do every time someone dares approach their counter.

“Ooh, I like that. Ahoy to you too,” Eddie says, finishing his approach. He can hear one of his idiots snort behind him, but that’s the least of his concerns right now.

Steve lifts up from his slouched position by the register and stands to his full height. Eddie can’t help it—his eyes drift down the front of the uniform. It shouldn’t look good and, in fact, it looks downright ridiculous. “What can I get for you?”

Eddie wets his bottom lip and smiles, drags his eyes back up to meet Steve’s. “I can think of a couple things, if I’m being honest with you Steve.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. They almost touch the stupid little hat. “Ordering for the group, then?”

Right, yeah. Steve is really fucking stupid. Eddie wants to tug on that stupid fucking scarf and kiss him right over this counter. What a sight that would be, huh? “Something like that, yeah.”

Robin decides now is a good moment to emerge from the back room, stopping when she sees Eddie and offering him a quick nod and a smile. “Hey, Munson.”

“Buckley,” Eddie replies, as per, ducking his chin in response.

Steve would make a horrible DM, because he cannot hide a single thing on that pretty face of his. He is confused beyond belief as he looks over his shoulder at Robin and then back at Eddie, and then back at Robin once more for good measure.

“Is Stevie here helping you? Or is he busy doing absolutely nothing again?” she teases, touching the outside of Steve’s arm as she crosses past him and sets up shop in the corner, folding her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter.

“Hey, that’s—“

“He was just about to give us some recommendations, actually,” Eddie cuts in, pursing his lips in a small, coy smile.

Steve looks relieved at the save. Behind Eddie, someone (probably Jeff) nudges the back of his shoe. Right. They have shit to get to eventually.

“So,” Eddie drawls. He stands up and trails one poorly polished finger on top of the display freezer, tracing a small circle before catching Steve’s eye again. Steve is watching his finger, although he snaps his eyes up when he notices Eddie looking. “Pretend I’ve never been here before. What would you recommend, big boy?”

Steve’s head jerks back minutely, and then something must click, because he smirks. “If you’re looking for the full Scoops experience, the U.S.S. Butterscotch is the way to go.”

Eddie hums and points his thumb over his shoulder towards his best approximation at where Gareth might be. “That’s for him. One of those, a chocolate shake for Jeff, a small pistachio waffle cone for Grant because he’s a psychopath who hates fun.”

“Hey!” Grant says, and Eddie shoots him a look over his shoulder. He presses his lips together and nods, and then Eddie turns back to Steve, who looks amused by the whole situation.

“So you have been here,” Steve states, voice a little bit smug.

Eddie shrugs one shoulder and lolls his head towards Robin, giving her a smile. “Only with Robin. I was starting to think she’s the only one who works here.”

Steve chuckles. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh no,” Eddie says, voice dipping low, and Jesus Christ he cannot believe that he’s doing this in front of every prude in this fucking ice cream shop. He grins. “You could never disappoint me.”

Steve scoffs and crosses behind the freezer to slide it open. He reaches up to grab a cup and hesitates, “Cup okay?”

“I prefer it.”

He nods and produces the scooper from the front pocket of his apron. He spins it in his hand and Eddie watches like a man transfixed. Steve asks him another question and he just hums “Uh-huh,” stupidly, busy watching Steve’s entire arm flex as he scoops whatever flavor into the cup. Oh, he’s down bad. This situation has gotten worse.

Steve heads back to the counter and slides the cup across, Eddie following him over and taking the side of it. He’s about to take it and go on his merry way, but Steve produces a spoon from somewhere and sticks it in the top, lingering long enough to catch Eddie’s eye and say, “My favorite. Hope it serves you well.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to be shocked. He nods dumbly and says, “Wh—uh, what do we owe you?”

Steve stands back up and crosses back to the register. He checks them out for only a shake and one small cup, which Eddie pays for without thinking, despite Gareth saying that this trip was supposed to be on him.

“Thanks for sailing through Scoops Ahoy,” Steve says, significantly less bored-sounding than when they first walked in. He leans on his elbow to hold out the receipt for Eddie to take. A small, stupid, undeveloped part of Eddie’s brain hopes that Steve’s number is on it. “If you want it.”

“Yeah. Uh, yep,” Eddie fumbles, taking the receipt and doing his best to make sure their hands don’t touch. He glances down at it, notices the lack of things he was charged for, and looks up. And he swears on his father’s life, Steve winks at him before standing up straight.

Eddie turns to leave, his friends all murmuring excitedly about their ice cream and the movie they’re about to see. He stops right before the exit, though, lifts two fingers to his forehead to salute and calls, “See you around, sailor.”

Steve mimics the salute, and a smile makes its way onto his face in a way that makes Eddie’s stomach start doing complicated stuntwork. He’s then less-than-gracefully pulled out the door by Jeff grabbing his jacket and yanking him back and out the door.

“What just happened?” Eddie asks as soon as they round the corner out of the store, stopping dead in his tracks. He looks down at the cup of ice cream in his hand—he doesn’t even like peanut butter.

“What happened, dude, is that we just paid half price for ice cream!” Grant says excitedly, and then immediately takes an obscene bite out of the top of his ice cream cone like some sort of heathen. It shakes Eddie out of his daze long enough to appreciate how fucking weird his friends are.

Eddie shakes his head, trying to snap himself out of it. He looks back over his shoulder towards the Scoops Ahoy and watches some giggling high school girls that he vaguely recognizes walk in. He points his cup back at it, “Did Steve Harrington just flirt back at me?”

Gareth scoffs around his spoon. “He flirts with anything that has a pulse, you know that.”

“Babes, Gareth, lest I remind you about the Great Rebecca Incident of your sophomore year?”

Gareth kicks the back of Eddie’s knee, making it buckle and forcing Eddie to look away from the front of the store. “Not cool. Who gives a shit anyway?”

“Me!” Eddie snaps, whipping his head back to the store. The same girls leave the store, heads huddled close together, faces significantly less thrilled than when they walked in. “Me gives a shit.”

Inside Scoops Ahoy, Robin’s jaw is hanging open in shock. It has been for the past minute, ever since Eddie and his friends left the store. Steve can see it out of the corner of his eye as he’s trying to count the obscene amount of pennies he just received. He glances at her twice before throwing the pennies into the register and snapping, “What?”

“What the fuck just happened?” she balks, laughing on the last word.

Steve’s brows furrow in confusion and he finally looks at her. She looks bewildered. “What, they just handed me like, forty cents in pennies, I can’t count that fast—“

“No, Steve,” she interrupts. She places her hands on her forehead, and then flaps a hand wildly at the doorway. “You just put frankly the best moves I have ever seen from you in the god awful time that we’ve worked here together on Eddie Munson. And then—and then! Two of the flyers on the cheer team come in and you absolutely cold shoulder them.”

“What?” Steve laughs incredulously, shaking his head and focusing back on the register. “Rob, I think you’re losing it.”

“I’m losing it?” Robin is now pacing back and forth behind Steve in the small sliver of space they have between the soft serve machines and the front counter. “Steve—“

“With Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson? Come on, Robin, don’t be ridiculous.”

Robin throws both of her hands up in the air and spins in a frantic circle. “I can’t. I cannot handle you Harrington, I know you pride yourself on being able to flirt with every girl that comes through that door you have been absolutely been sucking major shit—“

“Okay, rude—“

“—and I have never once watched you talk to anybody who is not a cute girl that walks through those doors outside of the shit that you are contractually bound to say. And then you have the audacity to say that you were…what? Just being friendly to someone that you just called a freak?”

Steve scoffs and throws the hat onto the counter in order to run both of his hands through his hair. “I’ve changed, you know. Maybe I am just trying to be friendly. I don’t have a lot of friends my age that haven’t actively tried to beat the shit out of me, or are my ex-girlfriend.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “That’s not how you make friends. That’s how you,” she cuts herself off, glances around, and crowds into his side to lower her voice, “that’s how you end up back at Eddie’s trailer.”

“How’d you know he lives in a trailer?” Steve asks. Then, his face drops, and he ducks down to say, “Are you jealous?”

“What? No, no, God no, we’re—“ Robin laughs, waving her hands in a big ‘x’ in front of her, “we’re not each others type. Like, by a mile. But we’ve hung out. He’s a nice enough guy, but not in a million years do I think you two would get along.”

“Well, then, it’s a non-issue,” Steve says, spinning out around Robin’s back and heading to the back room. “One time only. I’m taking my fifteen.”

“Didn’t you already take that?”

Steve opens the windows just enough to stick his middle finger through them. Robin grabs a Sharpie from behind the counter and makes herself a note on the back of her hand to question Eddie when she gets off tonight. Maybe he has more of an answer than Steve’s useless ass does.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #uhhhh um #steve harrington #eddie munson #tags! bitches hate tags.

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thieves-never-say-die · 3 years

Note

something that's like leverage? with Gal Gadot?? I'm listening 👀👀

RED NOTICE IS SO STUPID AND GOOD PLEASE EVERYONE WHO ENJOYS LEVERAGE WATCH IT

The basic premise is it’s an FBI profiler teaming up with the (second best) art thief in the world to stop the (first best) art thief in the world by stealing the things she’s trying to steal before she manages it

(of course there’s so much more than just that because every heist movie worth it’s salt has to have some twists and Red Notice has some good ones)

Gal Gadot plays the antagonistic art thief and just-

[image ID: a set of tags reading ‘#not to be a lesbian but oh my fucking god. oh my god. jesus fuck #ing christ. oh my god. fucking shit jesus fuck oh my fucking jesus fucking christ. god in heaven. holy fucki ng shit’ end ID]

It’s a stupid action comedy but I love it so much and you get to watch Ryan Reynolds and Dwayne The Rock Johnson do dumb-manly-men-action-flirting-by-bickering-while-saving-each-others-lives the whole time which is 10/10

It’s fun, it’s campy, some of the twists were regular action-heist movie twists but some I legitimately did not see coming, it even makes fun of itself! I mean Ryan Reynolds character straight up calls the thing they’re searching for a Macguffin, like in text in the script he says that, it’s great

It’s fun heist nonsense and has some pretty strong poly vibes, and really if you like Leverage give Red Notice a chance because it’s stupid good

#leverage #red notice #i may or may not have immediatly gone to ao3 after finishing the movie to see what was there #bc surprising no one I have a new ot3 #also yes even my ace ass knows gal gadot is fucking hot in this like god damn #i also may or may not already be trying to think of a red notice leverage au #please someone help me #ask #answered #sunlizards #m speaks

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spencersawkward · 3 years

Text

*house call // wes (Dollface)*

ssummary: when her pet cat gives her a scare, Reader decides to call the vet to make sure everything is going to be okay.

pairing: Fem!Reader x Wes

word count: 5.4k

content warnings: discussion of cannabis/cannabis consumption, unprotected penetrative sex, use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), SoftDom!Wes, breeding kink, creampie.

request: can you do a wes smutty one shot if you’re down?!

A/N: to be fair, i haven’t watched Dollface in a minute, but i’m obsessed with the domestic vibes that Matthew gives off when he plays Wes and i just thought it would be super cute. anyway, this was super fun also i wanna fuck Wes. ok enjoy!

masterlist

the absolute best part of your day is when the package arrives at your doorstep. you impulse-purchased it about two weeks ago while you were hanging out with one of your close friends, and you've been looking forward to trying it every day since.

or, really, for your cat to try it.

you've read reviews and been extremely diligent to make sure the stuff is completely safe, and everything you've seen or read was singing the praises of this cat weed (which isn't actually cannabis at all, but catnip made to look like it).

as you take the cardboard box to the kitchen table and pry open the top with the help of a Swiss army knife, you're grinning. Klimt comes scampering into the room to see what all the fuss is about, sitting at your feet with his tail curled around his legs.

"no peeking." you scold him gently. your kitten, the friendliest little rescue tabby around, simply stares blankly back. when you remove the wrapping from the glass jar and stare at it up close, you're impressed by how realistic it looks. the label shows cat-friendly ingredients only, but you unscrew the top and get a whiff of catnip.

Klimt begins to weave in between your legs, nudging them affectionately and beginning to purr. you giggle and bend down to give him a few pets. his nose twitches; he tries to sniff at the foreign object, but you put it back on the table.

"don't be greedy, babe." you scratch between his pointed ears and he lets out a whiny meow.

it's about his dinner time, and you were hoping to give him his treat tonight after he finishes his dry food. so you make yourself something simple with the leftovers in your fridge and do some more work on your laptop while you two eat together.

you've had Klimt for a while, now. you call him a kitten even though he's a full-grown cat-- he's just as playful and enthusiastic as any newborn. his eyes are the color of meadow grass, and his nose is scattered with tiny freckles. it makes him look like he's just come from digging around the backyard, but it really just adds to his charm.

not to mention his ceaselessly social tendencies: Klimt is always around when your friends come over, worming his way in between you or sitting on one of the free chair cushions to listen. you wonder if he knows what you're saying sometimes, because when you talk about the embarrassing things you've done that day or the failed interactions you've had, he always lifts his head to give you something of a judgmental stare.

once you've settled down for the evening and turned on the TV, you decide that now is the time. Klimt is aimlessly poking at a few of his toys. he bats at a fake mouse between his paws.

"kitten," you click your tongue and get up to grab the jar. "are you ready to try this stuff?"

as if he's going to answer. he hears your footsteps coming back his way and watches patiently. it's only when you pour out a little bit in front of him that he gets curious about the stuff. you admire his movements as he bends down and examines.

although you keep an eye on him while watching your show, you don't notice much of a change in him. he starts to roll about on the floor, which is to be expected, but it's only when he starts to chase around his fake mouse that things get interesting.

you laugh as Klimt goes nuts, jumping back and attacking the thing like he's ready to come in for the kill. it's really funny, but you're interrupted by your phone buzzing. you told your friend that you were doing this tonight.

"hi!" you answer the FaceTime call right away.

"how is he?" you can hear the smile in Andi's voice as you turn the camera.

"he's loving it."

"oh my god," she laughs. Klimt arches his back, leaping so highly in the air, you raise your eyebrows. "I wonder how long it'll last." she muses.

"I'm guessing we'll get about an hour more of this before he passes out for the next two days." you joke. he gets strong bursts of energy usually, but they only last so long until he's curled up on the window sill or in your bed.

Andi and you talk for a while as Klimt tires himself out and plays with all of his favorite toys. you dangle a string in front of him for a decent amount of time, too, just to make him get up on his hindquarters. he's a natural entertainer, a lithe little thing who lets out a few irritated meows to demonstrate his impertinence.

after about forty-five minutes, however, you notice your cat's behavior change. he keeps raising his hackles and rolling about, and something about it makes you nervous. he doesn't usually act like this, not even when he plays with the other catnip toys he's accumulated.

"what's wrong?" Andi notes your furrowed brow as you look past the camera of your phone and at your pet.

"he's just acting really weird," you pat the couch cushion to call him over, but he doesn't even glance up. "I don't know why."

"maybe it's the cat weed." she suggests. you purse your lips and try to think.

"yeah, but nobody in the reviews ever mentioned anything like this."

"I'm sure he's fine, Y/N."

"yeah, I know..." but you're worried. Klimt is your pal, your cuddle buddy. as he rubs his cheek against the wooden floor, you feel guilt pool in your stomach. if he's hurt because of some dumb online purchase, you're never going to forgive yourself. "I'm gonna call the vet just to be sure."

"oh, okay," she sounds surprised, but doesn't try to stop you. "let me know what they say."

"I will." you hang up the phone and stare at your companion for a few seconds. he leaps into the air and does a somersault before letting out some deeply disturbing whine that reminds you to call the vet. better safe than sorry.

...

when the doorbell rings, you're practically twiddling your thumbs anxiously. Klimt hasn't settled at all, and you haven't even bothered to change out of your lounging ensemble. you're pretty sure you look a mess, but hopefully the person won't care too much.

you don't know who to expect-- your usual vet is an older woman who is friends with your mom, but her receptionist said she was out tonight and would send over another vet to check it out.

when you swing open the door, you immediately regret the decision to stay in sweatpants.

"hi, I'm Wes." the guy gives you a friendly smile and holds up his bag. it's almost comically old-fashioned, something out of an old movie, and you half-expect him to be wearing a stethoscope around his neck.

he's gorgeous, though. definitely a good amount older than you, tall with brown curls and stubble. his features stand out to you even under the porch light, and your mouth guppies idiotically.

"hi," you manage. his eyes flicker to your hand, which is seemingly blocking him from coming inside the house, and you jolt back a little to let him in. you clear your throat. "sorry."

as he steps inside and you close the door behind him, getting one tiny moment to yourself, your eyes widen. way to make yourself look like a bumbling fool.

"I heard that there's a tabby who got into some catnip?" you catch him looking around the front of your house, eyes catching on the framed photos before finding yours again. you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, but nod confidently.

"yeah, Klimt. he should still be in the living room."

"Klimt? like the artist?" he chuckles and follows you into the rest of the home. his voice has a nice timbre to it, something low and gentle that fits well with his occupation.

"yeah, exactly." you turn to smile at him.

you hear the cat before you see him. he's climbed to the top of his cat tree and leaps down onto the ground, paws hitting the surface in a way that can't have been comfortable. he chirps and looks up at Wes, whose lips are turned up with amusement.

"are you the man of the hour?" he asks, approaching the cat. Klimt's pupils get enormous and he prepares to pounce on the newcomer.

"careful--" you start to warn him, but the cat launches himself right into Wes' arms. the vet turns to you, holding him to his chest, and grins. warmth spreads over your skin with embarrassment. "sorry."

"no need to apologize," he starts to pet Klimt, who is only slightly struggling to escape. he wants to go wild again, but Wes isn't going to let go. "they call me the Cat Wrangler at the office."

"really?" you snort. he brings your pet over to the couch and sets him on the cushions, careful to keep him in place.

"no way." he shoots you a dazzling smile. the joke makes you giggle, and you feel yourself become even more self-conscious about the outfit you're wearing. this is just your luck, having hot guys come over when you distinctly look your worst.

Wes scratches between Klimt's ears and glances up at you again. "is there any reason in particular you're worried about the catnip?"

"yeah, actually," you nod, brought back to reality. "I know it's supposed to make them more playful, but he's just been acting weird and I got worried that there was something in it that messed with his head."

"can I see the container for it?" he asks. you go to grab the jar, only to remember that it proudly announces itself as cannabis for cats. profound embarrassment causes you to hesitate with the stuff in your hands.

it's not like he's here for you to flirt with, but you're still thinking about how stupid and young you're going to look with this stuff in front of him, a hot older guy who seems to have his life under control. you peek at him once more from the kitchen, at the way he smiles and starts to talk softly to Klimt as if he were a peer.

he's kinda crazy, and it makes you smile.

"it's cat weed." you hand him the glass container, and Wes breaks into a grin as he looks at the front.

"oh my gosh, I've heard about this!" his eyes move quickly over the label. you're in shock.

"really?"

"yeah, it's hilarious. here, can you make sure our friend here doesn't move while I read the ingredients?" he gestures. the knot of anxiety within you loosens a bit. you nod obediently, going to scoop up your pet and sit him on your lap. he's still squirmy, but he doesn't look ready to attack either of you, thankfully.

"hey, you." you greet your pal affectionately. his tail is wagging impatiently while Wes kneels on the ground beside the couch. there's a silver ring on his finger, but you notice with relief that it's not on his fourth one.

when he sets the jar down on the coffee table with the kind of smile that hints at some secret amusement, you frown. "what?"

"nothing," he shakes his head. "Klimt is gonna be totally fine."

"are you sure?" you pet the feline's smooth coat.

"definitely. you know how drugs affect people differently?" he asks. you want to say no, you don't know that because why would you, but then you remember that there is quite literally a glass-blown bowl sitting on your kitchen table.

"sure." you reply honestly.

"it's the same with cats: some just feel the effects a little more." he shrugs. you think this over for a second.

"that makes sense."

"yeah, I'd estimate about an hour more of this wildcat behavior before he takes a ten-hour nap." he cracks another joke and you find yourself totally charmed by him. something about the way he talks just makes your heart beat like crazy.

"that's a relief."

he chuckles and stands up, grabbing the bag (which he never even had to use) and starting to walk out of the living room. you can smell his delicious cologne as he moves past you.

"sorry for making you come out here so late." you apologize from the couch. Wes turns to look at you with an easygoing expression. his free hand is tucked into his pocket.

"no worries. you have a lovely home." he gestures to the kitchen, and then at the bowl sitting there in the open. you have to fight the smile on your face.

"thanks." you're smirking. right before he's about to head back out, you ask a question that's been wriggling around in your mind since he arrived. "why no title?"

"you mean, like, Doctor or something?" he stops in the threshold. one hand leans against it while he answers your question. you still can't get over how tall he is.

"sure. I mean, you are a doctor, right?" it comes out more dubious than you intended, but he doesn't get offended, only smiles.

"yes, I'm a doctor. I went to Davis." he points like the school is right outside your door. you nod.

"cool."

there's a silence where you just look at each other, and you forget that you look like you just rolled out of bed. he clears his throat.

"to answer your question, I just go by Wes because you're not my patient-- Klimt is." he points to the kitten, who is now chasing his own tail like a dog. you snort at the sight.

"how humble of you."

"I know, right?" he's joking. you find yourself not wanting him to leave, even though you've really just met. he's so sweet and funny and handsome... your stomach is flipping over and over like a schoolgirl.

and it's stupid that you can't think of one plausible reason for him to stay, but every step he takes shortens your time to think. so you just blurt, instead.

"would you want a beer?"

Wes pauses and looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face. "a beer?"

"yeah, I mean... you came all the way out here and I just feel bad for causing a fuss over nothing." you scramble slightly to justify your words. you don't ever drink beer-- do you even have any? god, this is embarrassing.

the vet checks the watch on his wrist, then smiles at you with a halting kind of enjoyment, before nodding. "sure."

"okay, great." you turn on your heel to hide the grin on your face. he follows you again to the kitchen area and leans against the counter while you open the fridge. the best form of flirting you can manage right now is bending over shamelessly and taking your time to poke around.

thankfully, there are three cold bottles left towards the back. you take out two and use the tool in one of your drawers to pop the tops off. he watches patiently, takes a sip when you hand the drink to him. your eyes meet.

"so, what prompted the cat weed purchase?" he starts the conversation effortlessly, and you try to keep your eyes from wandering over the shape of him. now that he's just standing in front of you, you're noticing the way his sweater sits against his frame, his long legs and the way his head rests on an elegantly-proportioned neck.

"I just saw it and thought it would be fun." you shrug honestly. he smiles.

"do you think you're gonna let him try it again another time?"

"I don't know," you cross your arms over your chest. "I'm a little nervous, but he also was having a lot of fun until I made him sit still."

"fair enough." you both turn your gazes to the cat. he's nudging a little toy ball with his nose and watching it roll across the floor. there are tiny bells inside that jingle. Wes turns back to you. "what do you do?"

"graphic designer."

"an artist." he raises his brows, impressed.

"not exactly saving animal lives, but I get by." you take another sip of your drink.

"it's not like that, mostly." he rolls his eyes playfully.

"then what's it like?"

"I just see and talk to people's pets all day. it's a pretty great job, even when it's not. you know?" he's optimistic about it. you're drawn to his positive energy, to the way he smiles when he speaks like he's preparing to deliver a witty joke.

you're hopelessly attracted to him, and the space between you is becoming unbearable. even though he's a guy you just met, you can feel in your gut that something about this is just right. you want his body against yours.

"you okay?" he breaks what you only now realize is a silence, and you blink to clear the dirty images from your mind.

"yeah." only thinking about you fucking me against a countertop. it must be the fact that you haven't gotten laid in a while or something, because you usually aren't this attracted to people within the first hour. it takes longer for you to even want to kiss them.

"what kind of stuff do you design?" he seems genuinely interested as he shifts and continues to nurse his drink.

"I work for a tech startup downtown, so it's a lot of website work to make sure it's navigable and pretty." you try to sum up your duties, but it's hard when his hazel eyes are so intent. he listens to every word.

"do you do personal work, too? like, just for you?"

"actually, yeah!" this sparks your excitement.

"can I see?" his smile widens. "only if you're comfortable, of course."

"sure." you're beaming.

he stays put as you start to go out of the kitchen, but then you smile. "you can come with."

"oh." he sets his beer down on the counter and follows you, slightly surprised. but you don't care; you were nervous before, but he's stayed for this long. maybe he wants you, too.

once you get to your bedroom, you're grateful that it's been freshly cleaned. there's even a bouquet from the flower's market sitting on your dresser, and you head over to the desk to sift through the drawers for what you want.

"cool room." he compliments from the threshold. he's careful not to make you uncomfortable, but also can't resist the curiosity that draws his gaze from wall to wall. you find the stack of papers and smile.

"thanks," you place the folder in his hands. "these are some printed versions of stuff I did last year."

Wes immediately begins to flip through the art. him seeing your stuff makes you nervous, so you pretend to focus on straightening up the few items that sit on your desk. you wipe your fingertip over a nonexistent film of dust.

"these are amazing," he says, holding a card stock copy in between his index and middle fingers. "holy shit."

"thank you." you're trying to keep from smiling too hard. you can tell that he's being genuine with his compliments, and it makes your heart swell.

"definitely. are you showing anywhere?"

"at an exhibit downtown a couple months back, but I've been so busy with work that personal stuff hasn't really been on the table, you know?"

he nods in understanding and continues to go through until the end. when he's finished, he looks up and sees you, his eyes concentrated. he doesn't speak at first, and an undercurrent ripples across the room. there are about three feet between you, and you have no excuse to lessen it.

he licks his lips slowly. you purse yours, unsure of what to say.

"I'm glad you called tonight." his voice is lower, slightly uncertain, like he's testing the boundaries. except you don't want boundaries right now. you want to go wild on him.

"me, too." you reply. it's in your eyes, that begging for him to do what you're scared to initiate.

your tongue is pressed to the back of your teeth in anticipation. and when he sets the art back on your desk and comes closer, you feel yourself give in. bubbles of excitement travel up your body as he grabs your face and bends down to kiss you.

it's full, passionate, not the kind of kiss you give someone you've just met. laced with desire and longing, you respond immediately. hands immediately run to his forearms, over his shoulders as he imposes beautifully on your form. it's so hard, you lean back slightly. your torso presses against his until he pushes you against the wall.

the slight gasp that escapes your lips causes him to smile, followed by your moan and clutching fingers. the material of his sweater, the taste of him mingled with that sophisticated, gentle smell of cologne that you want printed all over your skin.

"come here." he murmurs against your mouth and reaches down to the back of your thigh so you can hook your leg around his waist. you whine at the easy access he has to grind against your core, both of you desperate.

"Wes." you pant into his open mouth. he sucks on your bottom lip before finding your cheek and jaw. his fingertips tighten around your flesh.

"this feel good, sweetheart?" he checks in. coincidentally, his jeans grind against your panties at exactly the right spot and your hips jump. you release a pleasured yelp.

"mhmm."

"sounds like it." he latches onto your throat with a possessive excitement. you can feel him sucking and biting at the skin until you're positive there'll be marks tomorrow. you hope there are; purpled evidence of his touch. he digs his nails into your thighs. "you like it when older men touch you, baby?"

he blows over your tender throat before attacking it again. you sigh contentedly at the way he mingles sensations for your pleasure. "yes."

he grunts and nips at your collarbone, sliding the strap of your top down your shoulder so that he can effortlessly flutter his lips over the skin. you grip at him and toss your head back against the wall. his weight on yours is divine. it makes you weak, but that doesn't matter. he's practically holding you up at this point.

when his hand pushes under the hem of your shirt and dances over your stomach, you arch your back for more. he's gentle yet firm, pulling you close like he wants to breathe your oxygen. he's tracing over your ribcage, all the way up to the valley of your breasts, before cupping one and moaning into your shoulder.

he kisses you again with an aching hunger that can't be satiated. your tongues meet and Wes finds your hardened nipples beneath the thin fabric of your bralette. you sigh while he starts to circle one with his thumb.

"you're perfect." he breathes.

you want to bask in this moment, to enjoy the shock across your skin when he reaches his hand back down between your bodies to dip below the waistband of your sweatpants, but you're just so greedy. he could make you cum over and over and it would never be enough.

"what do you want me to do to you?" Wes is hovering over your lower stomach, dangerously close to where you need him most. he's teasing. the warmth of his skin drives you mad. his breath brushes over the shell of your ear.

"fuck me." it's the only response you can fathom. every other instinct in your body flies out the window and is replaced by a craving to sink your proverbial (and literal) teeth into him.

but he loves it, apparently, because he pushes you back against the wall with a nearly bruising force. "I can do that."

with those words, he quickly grabs your other leg and lifts you into his arms, bringing you to the bed and laying you delicately on the mattress while you giggle. you stare up at him with an almost daydreamy lust. his cheeks are flushed.

you only get a second of that heavenly sight, though, before he dips down and pushes your shirt up to see your tits and kiss up the chasm between your ribs. his stubble tickles your skin, which causes you to smile.

by the time he's pulled your sweatpants off and tossed them to the side, you're whining for him to strip down as well.

"what is it, pretty girl?" he murmurs against your tummy. when you try to squeeze your thighs, he pushes them apart.

"I wanna see you." your fingertips touch at his sweater. he chuckles and pulls the garment over his head. it messes up his perfect hair even more and you love it, tangling your fingers in it. he bites his lip.

"do you want me to taste you first?" he keeps stroking the inside of your thighs and staring down at the skimpy lace that you're positive that you've already soaked. you're making him crazy with the way you roll your hips against air, against nothing, seeking any kind of stimulation.

"I can't wait." you shake your head. as nice as it would be, you're going to implode if he doesn't fill you up soon. he drags his fingers down your clothed slit and groans when he feels just how ready you are for him.

"let's take these off then, okay, sweetheart?" he hooks his fingers in the panties and waits for you to nod before tugging them down your legs. you whimper at the cool air that hits your core, soaked and needy. Wes stares at your body on display for him.

as he gets back up from the floor to kiss you again, you both work to remove the rest of his clothes. his skin is perfect under your hands. his chest is warm, solid, and when he climbs on top of you, his arms rest on either side of your head.

one hand comes down to grab his own cock and stroke it a few times before lowering himself to rub it against your throbbing clit. you whimper at the pressure; he's mindless when he feels how easily you cover him in your essence.

"so fucking wet..." he groans while rutting against you.

"Wes, please--" your breath hitches. "put it in."

"begging?" he teases your entrance with the head and smirks. "good girl."

"mhmm." you're smiling, but your mouth drops open when he pushes himself inside.

it's a heavy feeling, him filling you up. he's thick and the stretching of your walls makes him groan and rest his head on your shoulder. he kisses the skin there while diving deeper into your body.

you're shaking slightly from the mixture of pain and pleasure, his size forcing your body to work quickly to accommodate. your eyes are squeezed shut, but you run your hands over his back and shoulders to stay grounded. it feels like a dream.

he starts to pull out, coated in your wetness while you whimper below him, and he grabs your face with one hand in a dominant, soft gesture. "okay?"

"yeah."

he pushes back in. the air in your lungs is practically gone at this point, he's so deep inside. your eyes roll back and push your hips up to take him at a new angle. Wes finds his pace easily, rocking into your body at a manageable pace to let you get used to the sensation.

every time his hips roll down and he buries himself in you, he presses on your clit and sends a new shock through your body. he leans on his elbows to get closer and feel every undulation of your body. you love how his thrusts force your legs apart, how he moans your name and causes the headboard to repeatedly hit the wall while maintaining eye contact. hazel irises that rake over your features with lust.

"you feel so good." he speeds up a little when he hits a certain spot. you can feel him deep and hard, causing a small bump to rise in your stomach with each stroke. his voice is husky and dark. like a man starved.

"fuck..." you drag your nails down his back. he groans at the red marks that you will no doubt leave for him.

"clingy thing, huh?" he sucks at your throat affectionately. "I come over for one thing and you can't help yourself."

hearing Wes speak through his own panting is like listening to a secret, and you never want it to stop. he's reveling in the sordid crush of his own wants, and the way he shoves into you shows you that he has no intention of slowing down for a while.

"I'm impatient." you smirk. he pulls away to admire your expression.

"so am I." he kisses your lips and starts to pound into you. the juxtaposition of his tenderness and the sharp snap of his hips to yours fills you with butterflies. you love how much he wants to ruin you.

"Wes-- oh my god!" you whimper. he grabs your hips and yanks them closer to him so he can go as deep as possible, so he can hit your cervix.

"that's right, sweetheart," he pants. you can tell that he's starting to lose control. "say my name. I want everyone to know what a good little slut you are for me."

the commanding tone makes your body shake. "I- I'm cumming, Wes, please--"

"please what, baby?" he taunts. his index finger is tracing over your jaw.

you don't know what it is that you're wanting, except more. as your form shudders and tightens, walls fluttering around his cock, you lose the capacity to speak. you grind your hips against him and cry out pathetically while he pushes you back down and slams ruthlessly into your pussy.

"cum inside-- please, I need it--" you writhe. he groans at the request.

"fuck, yes..." he sheathes himself. "take it."

you gasp as he repeatedly hits your weakest point and spills hot ropes of his cum inside you, still thrusting in and out and whimpering into your shoulder at the clenching sensation you give his cock. it's warm, strangely delightful, nearly sending you into another orgasm sheerly from the sight.

he mutters unintelligibly as he empties himself in your pussy, but you catch a growled "so needy," between deep moans. you're clinging to him like you'll never have it again. you might not.

he slows down, giving shallower thrusts while riding out his high and shoving his cum deeper inside. it turns lazy and messy, both of you panting, before he finally pulls out and rolls over next to you.

you press the back of your hand to your forehead. it's sweaty from all the work he just put you through, but you feel amazing at the same time. your eyes keep flickering from the ceiling above to his rising and falling chest beside you. his nose twitches; he turns his head to look at your face.

although you expect him to say something, he doesn't. instead, you just stare at each other. the air conditioner rattles gently in the background. you're not sure how long this lasts, this soaking in, but he's the first to break it.

"hey."

you find the corners of your lips turning up. "hi."

"do you mind if I go get something to clean you up?" he asks softly, his fingertips finding your forearm with ease and drifting over it.

"sure. bathroom is the first door on the left."

he gets up and you watch him gather his clothes, eyes glued to his perfect form. you can't believe you just had sex with your veterinarian. you don't regret it at all.

he wanders out of the room and your eyes follow, only to see Klimt sitting patiently by the door.

"what are you doing, perv?" you tease as he comes over and leaps up onto the bed. his kitten paws pad over the blankets and settle into the crook of your arm. you smile to yourself, recalling how sweet the vet was with him. "hey, Wes?" you call out.

"yeah?" he comes back into the room with a warm washcloth and a small smile on his face.

"would you wanna get coffee or something sometime?" you bite your lip. maybe he doesn't want to go on a date, but it's worth a shot.

"sure." he breaks into a grin that makes you giddy. thank god, because you really were hoping to see him again.

you can't wait.

taglist (lmk about adding/removal or add yourself to the list here!): @jareids @reidsconverse @xoxomgg @may-b-a-u-shewritestoo @la-vie-en-amour1 @g0lden-cth @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @kisseslikecoffee @spenxerslut @slutforthegubes @spookydrreid @depressedgothgrl @flipper-kisses @multixfandomwriter @willowrose99 @gingeraleluke @chasemoonlight @spencerreid9

#matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader #wes x reader #wes dollface #mgg smut #mgg fluff #mgg character smut #mgg characters #dollface

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writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

Text

Gold Rush (Sebastian Stan x Reader)

[Actors-Masterlist]

Gold Rush [1] / You’re Not Sorry [2] / This Is Me Trying [3] / [4] (soon)

Summary: Your career was blossoming, especially with your new role in “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier”. Working on set was a dream come true. It was never your intention to fall for one of your coworkers. Not when you knew that he would never look at you that way.

Words: 2,637

Warnings: language, it’s Anthony Mackie’s world & we’re just living in it, angst, feeeeeels, maybe I cried, maybe I didn’t, we’ll never know, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Inspired by: “gold rush” by Taylor Swift

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Gleaming, twinkling

Eyes like sinking ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in

You scored big time when you were casted in the upcoming Marvel series “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier”. Working alongside Anthony Mackie & Sebastian Stan had been more than you had ever wished for. The atmosphere on set was harmonious. Everything would have been fine if it were not for your stupid crush on your fellow castmate. Mackie picked up on the fact that you liked Sebastian almost immediately & he teased you about it one too many times. No matter how obvious his teasing, it seemed like Sebastian was completely oblivious to it. Or he acted as if he had no clue. You were not quite sure about that.

The press tour was going strong, which meant that Seb, Mackie & you were teamed up for every interview. Now, that was not something that bothered you too much. After all, you were more than comfortable around them. But when some interviewers did not know where the line was, you got frustrated. Like, okay, we got it. Everyone with eyes knew Seb was hot. But as an interviewer, you should know when to stop. Shamelessly flirting in front of the camera with basically a stranger? Sorry, but you had no explanation for such a behavior. Yes, some interviewers flirted with you, too. But you were great when it came to brushing them off while staying polite. Of course, Mackie’s teasing did not make this any easier for you. Every now & then, he would bring up the chemistry you & Seb shared on screen. And off screen. Like usual, you laughed at him & so did Seb. During interviews, you teased each other a lot, it was a playful manner you all enjoyed. And the audience loved the three of you for it.

Sometimes, when Seb answered a question that had him explain scenes with you or something similar, you hated the butterflies you felt inside. You hated how your cheeks warmed up. You hated that he had such an effect on you. You hated Seb. You hated him for being so perfect. You hated him for being a literal God. You hated him for ruining every other man for you. Because nobody could ever compare to him. And you said that even though you were not even in a relationship. Hell, you were not the only person who looked at him that way. If the interviews were not proof enough, a look at social media did the job, too.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

Walk past, quick brush

I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush

I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

Everybody wants you

But I don't like a gold rush

“So (Y/N)…” the man sitting opposite of you started. It was not a lot of times that questions were directed at you. Usually, people were more excited to talk to the guys. No offense taken. “The chemistry between Sebastian & you can be felt even after such a short trailer. My question is…are you two, like, a thing?” of course. If you got a question, it was about your love life or about how great you looked in your suit. The others got complex & well thought through questions & you got this shit. Internally rolling your eyes, you stayed professional & answered casually.

“Sebby & I are friends. We work well together. We know each other well enough to communicate with our eyes, body language & so on. Some people mistake that for dating, apparently.” finishing off with a sarcastic chuckle, you had to hide the fact that you wished that there was more between you two.

“I gotta say. Even I think they’re dating sometimes.” Mackie smirked when he spoke up which earned him a light slap from you. Seb only hid his face behind his hand & laughed quietly. It was nothing new. You were used to his teasing by now. Looking over at Seb, you could not help but admire him. Even when he was embarrassed, to you, he was the most beautiful person on this planet. Not a single flaw. Just…perfect. If only you had enough courage to do something about your damn feelings.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominoes

I see me padding across your wooden floors

With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door

“Stop that.” Mackie walked over to where you were sitting. Finally, you had a break after hours of giving interview after interview. Looking up, your face turned into one of pure confusion.

“Stop what?” he exaggeratedly rolled his eyes at your question.

“The daydreaming.” it was a simple statement. But why would he tell you to stop that?

“What? Is it forbidden to daydream now?” chuckling at him, you offered him one of your coffee cups. Your handler brought you two because you had not slept much that night. But Mackie needed one just as much & he gladly accepted it. Still, he could tell that you were trying to change the topic. Not with him, though. Sitting beside you, he sighed loudly.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” he looked straight forward when he asked that question. Your face fell at his words but maybe, maybe, if you played dumb, you could get out of this conversation without any awkwardness.

“Tell who what?” your innocent eyes bore into his side profile & you saw him shaking his head slightly. A low chuckle escaped him.

“Tell Seb you like him or I will.” he stated & your eyes widened in fear.

“You wouldn’t dream of it.” exclaiming frantically, you grew more nervous at the thought.

“I wouldn’t trust that thought.” & after a few seconds of silence, you breathed out loudly.

“Yeah, sure. And I’d risk our friendship for that? Forget it.”

“He likes you, too, you know?” he casually stated. Your face changed, but only for a second. He was wrong. Someone like Seb could never like you back.

“Stop, Mackie. Don’t just run around assuming shit.” you pushed his shoulder playfully but it did not do too much. What a surprise.

“My running around assuming shit isn’t assuming. It’s facts. You guys are awful, by the way. It’s exhausting, watching you two trying to dodge your feelings. Why can’t you just, I don’t know, get everything sorted out & be happy together? If someone deserves that, it’s you.” yes, Mackie could be sarcastic but when push came to shove, he could be serious, too. And that last part, he meant by heart. Was it true? Did Seb like you? More than a friend? Maybe you should just tell him. Life was too short to be filled with what if’s. It was now or never, right?

At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit

And the coastal town we wandered 'round had never seen a love as pure as it

And then it fades into the gray of my day-old tea

'Cause it could never be

Wrapping up for today, the three of you decided to grab some take-out & eat it back inside your hotel. After quickly showering & dressing more comfortably, you made your way over to Seb’s room. Mackie was already there, he texted you at least ten times to hurry up because they were starving to death. Dramatic diva. Knocking softly, a smile spread across your face when Seb opened the door. Stepping aside to let you in, you greeted Mackie briefly. He was already eating so why the hell was he rushing you earlier? He could be such a child. Seb handed you your food & motioned for you to take a seat on the bed. Take-out in a hotel bed? It should be illegal. Usually, you were not one for eating in bed but whenever you where staying at a hotel, it became some sort of a routine for you. Same for the guys. For a while, the three of you just talked & ate your food. Conversation always flowed easily with them. You knew all of their secrets & they knew all of yours. Well, except for Seb having no clue about your silly crush on him. When he & Mackie discussed a topic you did not know too much about to actually engage in their conversation, you found yourself stealing glances at Seb. If it were not enough for him to be so gorgeous, of course he had the best personality to match that. God really took his time with him. And the weirdest thing of it all was that Seb never let that thought get the best of him. He was aware of people admiring him but that never changed him.

'Cause I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

Walk past, quick brush

I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush

I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

Everybody wants you

But I don't like a gold rush

Mackie got a phone call & said goodbye to you before leaving the room. Which meant that Seb & you were alone. It was nothing special, the two of you spent a lot of time together. This time, though, you wanted to confess to him. Finally, you wanted to tell him how you felt. Could you live with the rejection? Well, if things turned in that direction, you had no choice but to. Seb’s lips moved but no sound came out. You zoned out & simply stared at him. Your thoughts were running wild. The sun had already started setting & the golden light illuminated his features in such a beautiful way. It almost looked like a movie scene. He was the masterpiece others could not keep their eyes from. You were this close to speaking up, taking a deep breath for preparation. This could change your bond with him forever.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominoes

My mind turns your life into folklore

I can't dare to dream about you anymore

A phone ringing interrupted you. It was not yours. But Seb pulled his phone out of his pocket. The moment he saw the notification, he started smiling so brightly. The smile you had grown to love so much. It brought a grin to your face, too. The things this man could do to you, completely unaware of the effect he had on you.

“What?” you asked when he could not stop staring at his phone. Had Mackie sent him a message?

“Nothing, it’s just…” he stopped before saying too much but you were having none of it.

“Aw, come on, Sebby. You can tell me anything.” encouraging him, your hand found its way on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. Seb seemed almost shy right now. And this was weird because he usually was everything but shy when he talked to you.

“There’s this girl & she’s just…amazing.” your face fell the moment he started talking. No. “I asked her for dinner but when she hadn’t replied after hours, I started losing hope. She just messaged me back.” his smile was sheepish & you hated that you had to admit that he looked happy right now. Genuinely happy. But you were not the reason of his happiness. Another girl was.

“And? What did she say?” deep down, you knew the answer & you actually did not want him to say it out loud. But you were best friends, after all, it was kind of your duty.

“I got myself a date. I’m going on a date with her, (Y/N)!” he beamed & pulled you into a big hug. One, that made the butterflies act out. Fuck, that hurt.

“That’s great, Sebby. I’m happy for you! You deserve it.” your excitement for him was fake but the sincerity behind your last words were not. If one person on this planet deserved endless love & happiness, it was him. Mackie was wrong. Seb had never liked you. Not in that way, at least. And his date saved you from embarrassing yourself & ruining your friendship. That did not change the fact that you felt like crying right now. You could not shed tears in front of him, could not show how much it actually affected you. No. You had to fake a smile. And that shit hurt like a bitch.

At dinner parties I won't call you out on your contrarian shit

And the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure as it

'Cause it fades into the gray of my day-old tea

'Cause it will never be

“Something’s wrong with you.” Mackie stated at breakfast. No shit, Sherlock.

“What makes you think that?” feigning innocence, you rolled your eyes when you saw the look he was giving you.

“Clearly, you’re upset. Did something happen after I left you with Seb yesterday?” he hit the nail on the head with his assumption.

“Yeah.” was all you answered. His eyebrows raised, he waited for you to continue. But when he noticed that you were not planning on engaging in any more conversation with him, he pressed further.

“Did you tell him? Did he mess up?” if Seb messed up, he would kill him. There was no other person who was better for him than you. The two of you deserved each other. And everyone seemed to realize that but you.

“I wanted to tell him.” admitting quietly.

“But?”

“He got a notification.” your short answers made Mackie freak out. He grew frustrated with you when you dragged out this entire conversation.

“(Y/N), come on.” he urged.

“Sebby has a date.”

“With you? But that’s great.” his smile was small but present. Did you finally realize that you were feeling so much more for each other?

“With another girl.” then you looked up at his face, your eyes glossy. Clearly, you were trying to keep it together but he could tell that you had a hard time doing so. Yes, Mackie would kill Seb. He could have sworn that Seb only had eyes for you. The stolen glances, the efforts to make time to spend more with you. What the fuck was going on? When he saw your first tear falling, he wasted no time in pulling you in for a hug. You were broken, all because of one man. But the thing was that he was not just any man. He was Seb. Your best friend. Your everything. But he would never be yours. Not in a million years. Because he only saw you as a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was not like you did not have options. Hell, you declined so many people over the time. All because of him. And you were afraid that this would not change anytime soon. Because you did not think you would ever get over him. Your heart was ripped into a million pieces & the only person who could help you fix it was getting excited over his upcoming date. Whatever you thought could be between you guys, it was nothing but a dream. Something that could never be.

Gleaming, twinkling

Eyes like sinking ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in

Gold Rush [1] / You’re Not Sorry [2] / This Is Me Trying [3] / [4] (soon)

Published (04/22/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @buckysleftarm420 (thanks for your support <3)

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no-pucks-given · 3 years

Text

TYSON JOST | LIGHT MY WAY HOME

A/N: More than 12.000 words later, more than a month after the initial request from Taylor popped up in my notifications. What a freaking ride. My longest fic I've ever written, and maybe even my favourite one. Thank you, to everyone who hyped me up, send me inspo and send me sweet asks. I couldn't have done this without all of you. Special thanks to @dumb-and-dunner, @chicagoblackhawkslover96, @heybarzy and Chrissy (who doesn't have Tumblr unfortunately).

Warnings: Angst, ‘can I strangle him yet?’ Tyson, swearwords, some major character development and (how could I not?!) a happy ending.

Also: Gabe and Melissa Landeskog play a big part in this fic, so if you aren't comfortable with them, you might want to skip this one.

Word Count: 12.1K

Requested: Yes.

The NHL lifestyle, or the ‘popular’ lifestyle was attractive to all young, hormonal boys. You’d known that for a long time. You stood by Tyson’s side when he got drafted into the wicked world of the NHL. Parties, drinking, sex, training until you can barely move, fights, games, wins and losses. It all had it’s charms, but it also had its dangers. Just like any other guy Tyson wanted to experience it all, the whole package,

You assumed you fell under that ‘whole package’, you were his girlfriend for a reason, right? And you did, for a while. You partied together, came home together, did everything together. But the moment Tyson became older and ‘known’ outside the regular hockey fans, that title didn’t mean much anymore. He became more and more the type of guy you didn’t fall in love with, the type to take you for granted, the type to enjoy the attention of other people, other women in particular. You weren’t the jealous type, you didn’t want to claw out the eyes of every woman that looked at him, but you were at a breaking point. Maybe you were jealous, you weren’t jealous of those other women, you were jealous of the attention Tyson gave them. Attention he should’ve been giving to you, his freaking girlfriend.

You were however the loyal type, the type to come home after a long night. And that’s exactly where things went wrong with Tyson. While you were waiting for him at home with a meal, a warm bed or just simply anything else, he was out. You had no idea where he was exactly, he was simply ‘out’, whatever that might mean. You tried to talk to him, you tried to make him see that this wouldn’t end well for either of you, but he simply waved off your concerns, shrugged his shoulders and moved on.

How do you talk to someone who rediscovered himself? How do you talk to someone who thinks he’s on top of the world? How do you save someone from the downfall of success when they don’t want to be saved? You knew one day he’ll come down from this high, one day he’ll realize that he screwed up. One day he’ll come to the conclusion he let something special slip through his fingers, and for what? Fame? Drinks? A rush of adrenaline? One day. But you knew that it wouldn’t be today.

However today is the day that you’re done. Absolutely fed up with all the bullshit excuses Tyson has been feeding you, all the coming home late or not even coming home at all. You have no idea what he’s been up to these last months, he’s barely home. Even when he’s home it’s like he isn’t really there. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you slept together or the last time you actually went to bed at the same time. Breakfast together? A lifetime ago. A lazy day together? Can’t remember. Date night? Months, months ago. Even thinking about it pisses you off to no end, the pain and hurt slowly making place for a new emotion: anger.

It’s frustrating to say the least. You love and take care of him like he means the world to you, and he does. Tyson on the other hand seems to take you for granted, or forgets you’re here at all. It seems like you’re talking to a brick wall instead of your boyfriend. No matter how hard you try, your words have no impact, your tears don’t make him feel anything. It’s like he’s a totally different person. You barely recognize him anymore these days, he feels like a stranger inside the body of the man you love. It feels like you’re both living your life, besides each other instead of with each other. It hurts, that’s for sure.

Like any other day you’ve prepared dinner, put it on the table and sat down on one of the chairs. All you can do now is wait, wait and pray he’ll show up this time. You even texted him, begged him to come home and simply eat dinner with you for a change. Of course you didn’t get a response, of course it’s complete radio silence from his side. God, you were desperate at this point, you don’t even try to deny it.

With every passing minute your hope disappears little by little. You stare at the food on the table until it’s completely dark outside, no sign of Tyson. Hours passed and you barely noticed it, it isn’t until you try to stand up and your muscles ache from sitting in the same position for a long time that you realize how much time actually has passed. “Fuck this, why am I even trying anymore?” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head. This isn’t worth it, it hasn’t been for a long time. Maybe, just maybe you’re finally ready to admit it to yourself.

Deciding to choose yourself over Tyson is a major decision, one you probably should’ve made sooner. It doesn’t matter, what does matter is that you’re choosing you now. You make the split second decision to just grab your stuff, just the necessary stuff. You remember Gabe’s offer, at the time you waved it off with a smile, pretending it wasn’t as bad as it might look to the outside world, but now? You want nothing more than to take him up on his offer. So what’s stopping you?

Even though you were excruciating calm this whole time, the moment you step into your bedroom, or Tyson’s bedroom, you break. This is real, this is really happening. You grab your bags, filling them with some of your stuff. Some clothes, some toiletries, your makeup, everything you might need. It’s a tough job, it’s even harder when you almost can’t see past the tears. At some point you lose track of things you did and didn’t grab, just shoving random items into your bag.

You let out a frustrated sigh, your body sinking down on the floor. In your hands the box containing all your high school love letters, all the small gifts you made each other. Tyson was quite handy, who would’ve thought that? You smile at the memories, sorting through the box. You frown at the feeling surging through your body, is this how heartbreak feels? Looking down at the contents of the box you sigh, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. Why couldn’t life be as simple as it used to be? It shouldn’t be this hard, right? You grab your prom picture between your fingers, smiling sadly at the two people in the picture, both smiling like they just won the lottery, both utterly in love with the other. How time can change..

You throw the box on the bed, maybe it will remind Tyson what the two of you had was special, maybe he’ll realize what he’s about to lose. If it doesn’t, well, it’s his loss. Hauling your bags downstairs is a full workout, you intended to bring ‘just the essentials’ but you have way more important stuff than you originally thought. You aren’t planning on returning to this house any time soon.

Shutting the car door after you loaded in your stuff gives you some form of relief. You let out the breath you’ve been holding in. You made your decision, it’s time to follow through now. You make your way back inside, and into the kitchen. Cleaning up all leftovers from dinner, which obviously is a lot more than you expected. Although.. did you really think he would show up? You shake your head again, putting the leftovers into the fridge. After you finish the dishes you retreat back to the living room, falling down on the couch with a loud sigh. All you can do now is wait.

You could’ve just left and never look back, but that isn’t your style. If you’re going to leave, you’ll do it the right way. You won’t leave without giving him a piece of mind, letting him know he fucked this up for good. You try to focus on the movie playing on the screen, but your heart keeps beating harder and harder, at this point you wish you would’ve just left instead of waiting for Tyson to show up. God, why did you have to do it the right way? Because you know, deep down, you would’ve wanted him to do it the same way. It’s the humane thing to do, it’s only right after spending such a long time together.

The front door opening brings you out of your thoughts. Honestly you don’t even know what time it is, but frankly you don’t care. All you want right now is to get this off your chest and leave. Tyson’s eyes widen when he comes face-to-face with you, surprisingly he doesn’t seem that intoxicated. You suspected he went out, but at this point he could’ve been anywhere.

“You’re still up,” Tyson says, walking past you and flopping down on the couch.

“Yep, and you missed dinner,” you counter, crossing your arms. Tyson simply shrugs his shoulder, clearly not caring enough to explain his absence. “I texted you to make sure you would be here,” you say, even though you know it doesn’t make a difference.

“Yeah, I was busy,” Tyson answers, looking down at his phone.

You almost feel the need to chuckle, to start laughing at his stupid behavior, but this is anything but funny to you, it fucking hurts. “I’m done, Tyson. I’m fucking done,” you say, shaking your head, trying so hard to keep the tears away.

Tyson looks at you with dull eyes, no emotion visible on his face. “Then go to fucking bed, I really can’t deal with your problems right now,” he sighs, turning his head back to the phone in his hand.

Right now, at this moment you know you made the right decision. This isn’t behavior of someone who’s in love, this isn’t even behavior of someone who loves. “You don’t have to deal with me anymore, because I’m leaving. I’m done, we’re done,” you tell him, emphasizing the last part. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours, the panic clearly written all over his face now.

“No, we’re not. You can’t break up with me, y/n!” he almost shouts at you, standing up from the couch.

“Yes, I can and I will. You don’t get to act like you care all of the sudden, Tyson. You haven’t acted like a boyfriend in months. You haven’t given me any reason to stay, so I won’t. I’m done with whatever this is,” you say, waving between the two of you. Tyson grabs your wrist, tears starting to pool in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off. “No. No. You don’t get to do this. It’s over. You put on quite a show, but I can’t say it was very entertaining. This curtain fucking closes right now, show is over. You can act like you care, but I know by now that you don’t,” you tell him, ripping your arm out of his grip.

You walk over to the front door, keeping your head high. Now is not the time to break down, your time will come. You hear Tyson behind you, muttering how sorry he is, excuse after excuse leave his mouth. You open the door, turning around one last time to look at Tyson. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, ‘cause you’re not,” you say while shaking your head. You close the door behind you, not looking back at what you’ve left behind, only looking forward to what’s yet to come.

It’s when you’re in your car mindlessly driving around when you realize you have nowhere to go. You forgot to call Gabe, and it’s probably way too late now. You quickly check the time, 2am, shit that’s late. You doubt he’s still awake, you feel bad for even thinking about waking him up. Two young children, both of them under the age of 2, and being a professional hockey player probably cost him enough energy already, you don’t need to add to that. “He did say I could always call him when I made my decision,” you say out loud, more to convince yourself that it’s okay than anything else.

You easily find Gabe’s contact, immediately pressing the dial button before you change your mind again. The line only rings twice before Gabe picks up. “I’m guessing you either finally broke up with him or there’s a fire somewhere,” Gabe says from the other side of the line. You chuckle, shaking your head. “And since you’re calling me and not the fire department, my guess is on the first one,” Gabe continues, trying to make you smile some more.

“I did it, I broke up with him, couldn’t stand to be there any second longer,” you sigh, brushing your fingers through your hair.

You hear Gabe’s sigh of relief. “I’m proud of you, y/n. I know this isn’t what you had in mind, but it’s better like this, I promise.”

Gabe turned into one of your best friends over time, Melissa is the older sister you never had and you love their children like they’re your own. Gabe and Melissa welcomed you into their family immediately after meeting you. You hadn’t expected to make friends and you definitely didn’t expect to make friends with the captain and his wife, but you’re so grateful you did. The support you receive from them is overwhelming, you couldn’t wish for better friends. So when Gabe first made you this offer, you were thankful he did, although you were still convinced at that point that Tyson would change.

“Uhm, you know.. that offer you made me? Is that still on the table?” you ask, praying he’ll say ‘yes’, praying you don’t have to sleep in some random hotel tonight.

“Of course, the guestroom is already prepared. Melissa expects you to be here as soon as possible, apparently she ‘really needs to cuddle her little sister’,” Gabe chuckles, you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at his wife.

“Thank you, Gabe. I owe you,” you say softly.

“You don’t. You’re family, y/n,” Gabe says, and you know he means every word he just said. Family. “Now get your ass over here, before Melissa starts a search party,” Gabe chuckles, making you laugh some more, because you know she would. You quickly say your goodbyes, promising you’ll be there in a few minutes. It’s just a short drive from your apartment, or Tyson’s apartment now, to Gabe and Mel’s place.

You kept up your appearance, keeping the tears at bay, but the moment you step out of your car and into Gabe’s arms you’re done. “Come here, I’m so sorry,” Gabe says softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You stand there for a few minutes, simply crying on your best friend’s shoulder, until Melissa squeezes herself between the two of you. “Hush, I need some sister time. Why don’t you grab her stuff?” she says, smiling sweetly at her husband.

Gabe sighs dramatically, sending a wink your way. “Whatever you say, wife.”

Melissa pulls you close to her, an arm around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you your room,” she softly says, leading you into the house. You’ve been here so many times already, but never like this. You’ve never been in a situation like this before, you’re not sure how to handle this. “I can hear the wheels turning in your head. It will be okay,” Melissa says, rubbing your arm soothingly. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders, not sure what to say.

Melissa leads you to your room, pushing you down on the bed, while she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “I know you’re probably exhausted, but do you want to talk?” Melissa asks softly, her face showing nothing but compassion.

You lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all that has happened. “I don’t even know what to say, Mel. I don’t even know how I feel right now. I’m just so...” you trail off, not knowing the right words to describe everything that you feel and think right now.

“Confused, relieved, mad?”

You sit back up, looking back at Melissa. “All of the above, I guess? It hurts, but I’m glad I did it. But I also regret it, because I love him, you know? I’m mad he didn’t try harder for me, for us,” you say, trying hard to keep the rush of tears away.

Melissa wraps her arms around you, pulling you close to her. “I know, sweetheart. It will take time, but you’re going to be okay.”

You sigh, knowing she’s right, even though it probably will take more time than just ‘some time’. You did just end a long relationship, it will take a lot of patience and time to work through that. “Thank you, Mel. For letting me stay here,” you mumble against Melissa’s shoulder.

“No need for that. You’re my sister, remember?” Melissa smiles at you.

Gabe softly knocks on the door before opening the door. “Brought your bags, thought you might need them before you go to sleep,” he says, smiling at the sight before him. Your friendship might be unconventional, but he couldn’t care less what other people think about it. Gabe absolutely adores the sister bond you and Mel share, he hoped the two of you would get along, so this? Picture perfect.

“Thanks, Gabe,” you smile at him.

“Do you mind if I steal my wife from you?” Gabe asks, making you and Melissa laugh out loud.

“Nope, she’s all yours,” you chuckle, waving at their retreating backs when they walk out of the room.

You strip out of your clothes, pulling on a sweater. You sigh, realizing you packed some of Tyson’s sweaters out of habit. His smell infiltrates your senses, making it damn hard to keep your emotions under control. It’s right this moment you know exactly how you feel. Heartbroken. The realization that your relationship with Tyson is really over doesn’t give you the satisfaction you hoped for, it doesn’t give you peace, it just fucking hurts. You simply feel hollow, even though deep down you know this was the right choice, this was what needed to happen. You know damn well why you feel so empty, you gave your heart to Tyson a long, long time ago, never expecting to be in a situation you might get it back. You don’t want it back, but you might need it back.

You realize it’s morning when the light softly shines into your room. You sigh, knowing damn well you’re lucky if you slept more than an hour this night. Rolling over you look at the clock on the wall, 9 am, perfect. Deciding it won’t do you any good if you stay in bed any longer, you force yourself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water warms your cold skin, soothing your sore muscles. All the twisting and turning you did all night surely didn’t help the way you feel right now. Why couldn’t life be a bit easier by simply letting the shower wash away all of your hurt, all of your pain? A fresh start, a clean slate.

You slip on some skinny jeans and a soft sweater, not in the mood to even think about doing your makeup. You dry your hair, before making a quick ponytail out of it. You walk down stairs, the chatter and laughter greeting you as soon as you walk into the kitchen. “Morning, guys,” you say, smiling at all the happy faces before you. A round of greetings sound throughout the room.

“How’d you sleep?” Gabe asks you as soon as you sit down next to him with a bowl of cereal.

“Can’t even tell you, suddenly it was 9 am,” you chuckle, shrugging your shoulders at Gabe’s raised eyebrow. “Do you have any idea where my phone is?” you ask Gabe, knowing he grabbed all your stuff out of your car.

“Uhh, I do, but I don’t know if you really want to look at it,” Gabe says, scratching the back of his head before pointing towards the kitchen counter. It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, walking over to where Gabe’s pointing at.

You unlock your phone, quickly checking your notifications. “Oh damn,” you mutter, looking at the absurd amount of missed calls and messages left by none other than Tyson himself.

You sit back down next to Gabe, dropping your head on your arms. “What do I do now, Gabe?” you groan. “Why does he care all of the sudden?”

Gabe rubs his hand over your back before answering your question. “Because he lost you, y/n. He never thought he would.” You turn your head towards Gabe letting his words sink in.

Gabe gets ready to leave for practice shortly after you settle on the couch with Lucas in your arms. The little man has a fascination with your hair, maybe it’s all babies who have that, but you like to think that you’re special. “Don’t pull out all y/n’s hair, baby boy,” Gabe chuckles, giving his boy a soft kiss on his head. He gives you a kiss on your cheek, softly squeezing your shoulder. You open your mouth to say something, but Gabe cuts you off. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry about it, I’m his captain, but I’m your friend, okay? Just relax, make sure Lucas doesn’t puke on you and go do whatever it is that you women do all day,” Gabe chuckles, knowing you better than you know yourself. You mouth a quick ‘thank you’ to him, wishing him good luck with practice before he runs through the house trying to find his girls to kiss them goodbye.

“Your daddy is a good guy, you know that, Lucas?” you smile at the baby on your lap. Lucas coos, his hands grabbing onto the strands of your hair. “Your daddy and mommy make me feel so loved, even though their children like to see me in pain,” you joke, trying to free your hair from Lucas’s small hands. “Buddy, you’re way stronger than you look,” you mumble, when Lucas pulls on your hair again.

Melissa laughs out loud the moment she walks into the living room. “How many times did I tell you that you need to keep your hair away from him and his grabby hands?” she says, expertly freeing your hair from her son’s fists.

“Apparently not enough times,” you chuckle at her. Melissa joins you on the couch, while Linnea Rae plays on the ground with some of her toys, happily showing you what she got every now and then. It’s times like this that you’re extra grateful for Melissa and Gabe, the way they welcomed you into their family has been nothing but perfect.

“So, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Melissa asks, while scrolling through series to watch on Netflix.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, I’m kind of worried about practice, I think? I don’t want to put Gabe in this position,” you say, keeping your eyes on Lucas.

“You know Gabe would do anything for you, huh? You don’t know how many times he came home utterly frustrated by the way Tyson treated you. He never said anything, because you were still with him, I can’t promise you he will stay quiet this time,” Melissa says, squeezing your shoulder. “He’ll be fine, this isn’t Gabe’s first rodeo.”

You look at Melissa, who simply gives you a wink. “I know, I know. I just don’t want him to get in trouble or anything,” you say, smiling back at her. You trust and know Gabe, so hopefully there won’t be a lot of trouble today.

“If he does though, he probably deserves it.”

Gabe surprises you all with some takeaway when he gets home from practice. It’s been nice eating with other people for change, it’s been way too long. The amount of lonely dinners has been through the roof lately. Gabe nudges you with his elbow, causing you to look up at him. “No frowning at the table.”

Melissa rolls her eyes at her husband while you just stick out your tongue at him. “Sure, dad,” you say, causing Melissa to almost choke on her bite of food before she lets out a loud laugh.

“Yeah, dad. Leave us alone,” Melissa laughs, winking at her husband. Gabe shakes his head at you and Melissa, a grin plastered on his face.

It’s during dessert you find the courage to ask about Tyson. You weren’t sure if you needed to ask Gabe, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to know anything, but now you know you do. “So, did anything happen during practice?” you ask him, playing around with your spoon.

Gabe shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Not much, just some chirping. Told him I’m his captain and he needs to fucking focus on practice. That seemed to do the trick,” Gabe says, shrugging his shoulders, continuing to eat his dessert.

You look across the table at Melissa who has the same expression on her face as you. Not convincing at all. ‘Sure,’ Melissa mouths at you from across the table. You shake your head at her, furrowing your eyebrows at Gabe’s statement. ‘Nope,’ you mouth back at her, finishing your dessert. You decide to let it go, you don’t even know why you care so much. You shouldn’t, right? You broke things off with Tyson, so why do you care so much what he does and thinks? The answer to that question is pretty simple the longer you think about it. Because you still love him, that’s why.

You thank everyone for dinner and dessert, promising to cook something from them later this week. Right now all you can think about is your bed and a decent night of sleep. God, that sounds like a true dream right now. You strip out of your clothes, crawling into the soft and cozy bed. It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep, showing just how exhausted you truly are.

The weeks that follow are filled with all kinds of activities, the 5 of you falling back into a comfortable rhythm, surprising you considering the situation you’re in. It isn’t every day you take in the ex-girlfriend of one of your teammates, or your best friend, whatever way you want to see things. When you aren’t working you spend a lot of time with the kids, trying to make things easier for Melissa and Gabe whenever they are busy or simply need some time for the two of them. You happily take on some of their care, even if it’s as simple as making sure they get their food in time. Honestly they are two of the sweetest children you’ve ever come across, they always find ways to make you laugh, even though most of the time it isn’t on purpose.

It’s been quiet around the house tonight, Melissa went out with a few of her friends, while she left Gabe and the kids with you. Apparently she needed some ‘alone time’ which didn’t include kids, and definitely didn’t include Gabe after he mentioned he wanted some ‘alone time’ with her as well. You love their friendly bickering, the love they have for each other visible in everything they do. So when Melissa gave her husband a dirty look and flipped him the bird the only logical thing to do was to start laughing at their exchange. “Have fun with them, sweetheart!” Melissa had yelled at you when she walked through the door, leaving the four of you behind.

Together you decide to just have a movie night. It’s late enough for both children to be asleep already, yet early enough to squeeze in a full size movie marathon. “Gladiatorrrrr!” Gabe exclaims excitedly while scrolling through the movie selection on Netflix, pausing on his all-time favorite movie.

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please no, have mercy, Gabe,” you laugh, knowing damn well you’re going to sit through this movie again. How many times has it been already? 12? You wouldn’t even be surprised. This dude really loves his movie. You look at Gabe from between your fingers, seeing the look on his face which makes you groan even more. “Fineeee, one more time, Gabe. One more time,” you whine at him, secretly enjoying his taste in movies, something you don’t plan on telling him ever.

It’s a little after 10pm when the doorbell rings. You look at Gabe, who looks just as surprised as you are. “It’s a bit early for Mel, don’t you think?” Gabe asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Definitely, unless she drank the whole bottle of champagne again,” you chuckle, thinking back at one of the craziest parties you’ve ever been to with Mel and Gabe.

“Oh God, please don’t remind me of that,” Gabe shudders at the memory of that night, standing up to see who’s on the other side of the door.

Gabe hates to say that he isn’t surprised to see Tyson’s face as soon as he opens the door. Honestly he had expected him at his door days, maybe even weeks ago. The moment Tyson found out you were staying with Gabe he broke, Gabe expected him to fight, to yell, to scream, he expected him to do anything except cry. Which is exactly what Tyson did, breaking down in the middle of practice. For a moment the whole place went quiet, only Tyson’s cries echoing throughout the building. No one knew how to act, no one knew what to do, until Gabe realized he’s the captain for a reason. On and off the ice. It was a weird experience, one Gabe still feels extremely conflicted about. He comforted his teammate, his friend, while his other friend was at his home, utterly heartbroken, trying to get over the guy who was bawling his eyes out on the ice.

After Tyson got over the initial shock the anger took over, just as Gabe expected. It made him almost drop the gloves, something he tried to avoid, not wanting to hurt Tyson. He let him say his things, things that absolutely didn’t make any sense, until he got everything out of his system. “Now can we continue this fucking practice, Jost?” Gabe told him after everything calmed down. Gabe tried to avoid the Tyson/y/n topic as much as possible after that, not wanting to get in the middle of things more than he already was. Until tonight apparently.

Gabe raises an eyebrow at the boy before him. “Why are you here, Tyson?” Gabe sighs, already knowing the answer to that question.

Tyson looks around, eyes flickering from left to right, clearly uncomfortable being here. “I, uh, can I talk to y/n? I know she’s here,” Tyson asks, scratching the back of his head before putting them back in his pockets.

Gabe shakes his head at him. “You can’t, if she wants to talk to you she will find a way to contact you. As long as you don’t get your shit together and prove to me, but most of all to her, that you’ve changed, I won’t let you anywhere near her,” Gabe declares, starting to get annoyed with the way Tyson acts. There’s no way he lets him close to you until you feel like you’re ready to see him again, no way.

Tyson opens his mouth, but Gabe gives him a look that immediately shuts him up again. “I’m saying this as your captain, and definitely not as your friend right now. Go home and leave her the fuck alone. You had your chance, you fucked up and now you have to deal with the consequences. How you deal with those said consequences is up to you, but I suggest you leave now and think about everything you did and didn’t do, okay?” Tyson nods his head, turning around to walk back to his car.

When he’s a few steps away from his car he turns around, smiling sadly at Gabe. “She’s my home, Gabe. Home doesn’t feel the same without her. You out of all people should understand that.”

Gabe chuckles low, shaking his head at his clueless teammate. “I do. I do know what home feels like, but I never, never choose anyone or anything over my ‘home’. Never. You sure as hell did, time after time,” Gabe says frustratedly, before shutting the door, leaving behind an even more frustrated Tyson.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you caught the sound of Tyson’s voice when you walked to the kitchen, grabbing some more popcorn. You didn’t mean to listen to their conversation, but it felt like you were glued to your place, unable to take another step, unable to do anything but listen.

Gabe walks back into the room, the look on your face immediately letting him know you know. “How much did you hear?” he asks softly, approaching you slowly.

“Enough,” you whisper, before breaking down, no longer able to keep the tears locked away, no longer able to keep your emotions to yourself.

With two steps Gabe is in front of you, grabbing the bowl of popcorn you held onto between your trembling fingers. He guides you back to the couch, urging you to sit down, which is a true challenge for someone who can barely feel the ground they walk on. Gabe wraps his arms around you the moment you sit down, allowing you to cry onto his shoulder as much as you want and need. He whispers sweet nothings while softly brushing your hair out of your face, making sure you have room to breath. Time after time Gabe proves what kind of friend he is, always making sure to be there for you when he’s needed, always doing things with the best intentions. Even if it’s just holding you until you calm down, even if it’s just speaking the truth against Tyson, even if it’s just simply being there for one another.

“Sooner or later he would’ve realized what he lost, what he gave up for an evening of clubbing or God knows what. Apparently it’s sooner rather than later, however make sure you make him work for it, if you ever decide you want to give the two of you another chance,” Gabe softly advises you, when you finally calmed down a bit.

“I will, you know I love him, Gabe. But I don’t know if I should?” you mumble, not sure if it’s a question Gabe has the answer to.

“Sometimes the heart wants what it wants. If he’s serious about you, he will work his ass off to earn back your love and trust, I promise you,” Gabe comforts you, after knowing Tyson for so long he’s positive he knows that Tyson goes above and beyond to get what he wants in life.

Maybe it’s Gabe’s comforting words, maybe it’s knowing deep down Tyson still cares, maybe it’s your own strength, but for the first time in a while you feel a tiny flicker of hope, a little bit of light at the end of the dark tunnel. Maybe, just maybe this was all worth it, maybe this is what needed to happen to get better and move forward. Maybe this is how it was supposed to go.

It’s a weird feeling, knowing your ex still cares about you, but also knowing you aren’t ready to let him back into your life like that. You don’t feel like you’re capable of seeing him yet, let alone talk to him. The need to know how he’s doing, how he’s holding up grows, but also confuses you. It’s simply a weird and confusing situation to be in. Choosing between two, maybe even more ways to handle this, while also waiting for Tyson to make a move, which he obviously can’t since you don’t want to see him or speak to him, is a hard task. A task that will require a lot of thinking. You just need a bit more time to gather your thoughts, give all of your confusing feelings a place, while making sure you put yourself first, you need to put yourself first this time.

So when Gabe invites you to one of his home games a few weeks later you say ‘yes’ right away. It seems like the perfect time and place to see Tyson from a distance again, without putting too much stress on yourself, you can just watch and enjoy the game, you don’t have to force anything. Of course your seats turned out to be way closer to the ice than you expected them to be, although... what did you exactly expect with Gabe? You know he’s been talking to both of you, kind of acting like some sort of messenger. He tried to keep it casual, just slipping in some information during a conversation, but you noticed what he was trying to do. Frankly you’re thankful for his meddling.

Steadily your heart starts to beat faster and faster the more players appear on the ice to warm up. When Gabe appears you aren’t surprised to see Tyson close to him, knowing Gabe they probably had a little chat before they went on the ice. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours the moment he’s close by, completely forgetting the ability to skate. You gasp when he lands on his ass on the ice, earning himself a round of laughter from the people around him, including Melissa and you. Gabe skates over to him, extending his hand and helping him upright again, but not before clearly telling him he’s ‘a dumbass’. Now that’s something you can agree on.

You know Tyson has something up his sleeve when he skates off to the bench, clearly busying himself with something you can’t see. After a few more stolen glances at each other Tyson skates closer and closer to you, until he’s right in front of the glass. His left hand catches your attention, until he gives you a small and almost shy smile. “Look at him, he’s blushing!” Melissa whispers next to you. You shoot her a quick ‘shut up’ look, before you focus your attention back on Tyson.

Tyson shows you the puck in his gloved hand, mouthing to you to catch it. It takes him two tries before the puck lands on the other side of the glass, safely in your hands. Tyson gives you one last quick smile before he skates off to get ready for the game. Melissa nudges you softly, bringing you back from your thoughts. “So, what’s on there?” she asks, knowing damn well you haven’t even checked.

“I don’t know if I want to look, Mel,” you tell her honestly. Melissa gives you a sad smile, throwing her arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s look together?” she suggests. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, how much can you actually write on a puck? He seemed happy to see you, so there’s no need to be nervous that it’s a bad thing. You look at the puck, turning it around in your hands so you can read the whole thing. ‘Talk after the game?’ is written on the puck, you immediately recognize Tyson’s handwriting and his little smiley face, or.. something that should resemble a smiley face.

“That wasn’t that bad, right?” Melissa asks softly, squeezing your shoulder.

“What if I’m not ready?” you ask her, a question that has been on your mind a lot lately.

“Then you take a step back, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, you don’t have any obligations. But he’s trying, y/n. You’ve heard all of Gabe’s stories, you’ve seen it yourself just now. It can’t hurt to at least talk to him.” You think about Melissa’s words, she does have a point there. Talking is something you should’ve done ages ago, or at least Tyson should’ve done that. So this is progress, he’s at least trying this time, that’s more than he used to do.

It’s hard to keep the smile off your face, you can’t even pinpoint why exactly you’re smiling. Whatever the reason is, it’s a good feeling to smile again. The game sure as hell plays a big part in it, the guys are on fire, scoring goal after goal, never giving the puck away for long. There’s barely any time for you to give Tyson a thumbs up, indicating you’re up for a talk after the game. Whenever you look at Tyson when he’s off the ice he’s smiling, whether it is to himself or to one of his teammates, that smile won’t leave his face.

You follow Melissa down to the locker room after the game is over. You’ve done this so many times, but this time it couldn’t be more different. You greet all the girls who are patiently waiting on their man, getting enough comforting words from them to last you a lifetime. When the door to the locker room opens you come face-to-face with Mikko, someone you haven’t seen in a while. Mikko’s face lights up when he spots you outside the locker room. “y/n! I haven’t seen you in so long,” he says, while hugging you tightly.

“I missed you too, goof. It’s great to see you,” you smile at him, wiggling out of his iron grip. Dude’s definitely stronger than he looks.

“Between you and me, Tyson’s a good kid, he just needed to grow up a bit,” Mikko whispers against your ear, before leaving you alone again.

You raise your eyebrow at Melissa, who just shrugs her shoulders. Weird. After a few more minutes Gabe and Tyson appear in front of you, both of them joking around. Tyson nervously looks around, not sure if he should come any closer. Gabe hugs you swiftly before throwing his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Make sure you bring her home safely, Jost,” Gabe warns him, before quickly saying goodbye to both of you.

You watch them leave, your mouth agape by the way they just left you here. Rude. “Did they just really do that?” you ask no one in particular, still shocked by their actions.

You turn around, looking back at Tyson, who still appears to be nervous. Is he nervous to talk to you? Why would he be nervous? It’s just you. “Hi there,” you smile, looking up at the man in front of you.

“Hi beautiful, it was nice seeing you tonight,” Tyson softly says, giving you a small smile.

Your insides flutter with his use of words, it’s nice hearing them even though you’re not completely sure if he means them the way you hope he does. “It was. You played great, I had a lot of fun,” you say, smiling at the proud look that crosses Tyson’s face for a moment.

Tyson leads you back to the rink, which is now completely deserted, thinking it would be a nice place to chat. For a while the two of you fall back into small talk, ‘how’s life?’, ‘how’s work?’, all that bullshit. You know Tyson and you are avoiding the actual topic that needs to be discussed, or topics? Whatever it is, there’s a lot to talk about. “I missed it here, I forgot how much I loved being here,” you tell Tyson, looking at the lights that lighten up the place, thinking back at the memories full of fun and happiness you both created here.

“I missed you, baby,” Tyson blurts out, completely catching you off guard.

Your eyes shoot back to his, you feel the panic rising inside your body. “Tyson...,” you start, warning him he’s walking on thin ice here.

Tyson’s face falls a bit, seeing the anxious look on your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Tyson groans, rubbing his face harshly, utterly frustrated with himself and the situation.

It’s quiet for a minute, both of you completely lost in thoughts. “Why is this so hard? We used to be able to talk about anything and everything. What changed, y/n?” Tyson wonders out loud.

You feel a painful pang in your heart, because you know damn well what changed. “You did, Tyson. You changed,” you almost whisper, the truth behind those words more clear than ever before.

You watch as Tyson’s whole composure changes in the blink of an eye, in just a split second he goes from the ‘happy’ guy to the guy who’s just as heartbroken as you are. “I did, didn’t I?” Tyson whispers, the tears pooling in his eyes. “I fucked this up, how could I be so stupid?” he mumbles, burying in face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, I regret this more than I could ever admit to you. I’m so sorry, baby,” Tyson cries, trying to keep his eyes focused on you. It’s hard to keep your own tears at bay when the guy you love so much has a breakdown in front of you, so you don’t. You just let them fall.

You don’t make a move to comfort him, you do give him room to let it all out, give him time to gather his composure again. “I looked through the box, the one you left on our bed?” Tyson says, his voice still broken, still thick with emotion. You nod your head, it was something you hoped he would do. “I had no idea you kept all of that throughout the years,” Tyson smiles weakly at you. “It made me realize what a moron I have been these past few months, maybe even longer,” he continues, shaking his head in disappointment. You listen intently at him, this, this is what you hoped for all this time: realization.

“I’m not telling you that you weren’t a moron, because you absolutely were. But I’m glad you came to the same conclusion.”

Tyson chuckles at your statement, giving you half a smile. “I know, I’m a dumbass. I’m a dumbass for acting this way and a dumbass for letting you go. Any guy would be on top of the world with you by his side, and I just let you slip through my fingers,” Tyson tells you, finally showing he knows he’s been a fool all this time, he knows he let something special go.

“Is it too late for us? Can you give us another chance?” Tysons asks you, his eyes flickering between you and the ground.

You sigh softly, knowing this question would come. It’s something you gave a lot of thought, something that crossed your mind daily. “I don’t know, Tyson. I really don’t know. You really fucking hurt me, you know? I can’t just look past that, I need to heal from that,” you tell him. Tyson nods his head, a guilty expression on his face. “You made me feel worthless every single day. You didn’t even give me a second of your time day after day. All you cared about was being away. Being away from me?”

It’s right that moment Tyson interrupts you by grabbing your hands. “No. No. That’s not true, you need to believe me,” he tells you as fast as he can.

“But how can I believe you when you never gave me a reason to? Your actions showed me exactly that, Tyson. I need answers, I need to know why,” you exclaim, starting to panic again, your anxiety taking over.

“Easy, baby. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, everything you want, but right now I need you to breath. Breathe, baby,” Tyson says softly, trying to calm your shallow breathing back down to normal. “Listen to my breathing, try to follow the way I breathe.” You do as he says, following the rise and fall of his chest, gaining back control of your own breathing.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, while Tyson just shakes his head at you, letting you know it’s okay. “Can you take me home, Ty? We can talk later, okay?” you ask him, suddenly feeling the need to crawl underneath the covers of your bed and just simply sleep for a while.

“Anything you want, y/n,” Tyson says, leading you out of the room and back to his car. You’re pretty sure he mumbled something under his breath, something very closely resembling ‘your home isn’t there, it’s with me’.

The drive to Gabe takes longer than expected, giving you more time to think about Tyson’s earlier question. You still need and want to know how he spent his nights, where he spent his nights, and why he acted like you didn’t exist. That conversation might need to wait until another day, you aren’t up for any more information, any more realizations, you still need to process everything you heard, saw and felt today.

Tyson stops the car in front of Gabe’s house, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. You know he still hopes he gets an answer to his earlier question, and you want to give him at least that. “You need to show me you changed, Tyson. Show me you changed for real and I’ll try to get past everything that happened. I can’t promise you anything,” you tell him softly, meaning everything you just said.

Tyson nods his head, a smile of relief on his lips. “I will, I promise you I will show you I changed and that you’re everything to me. I promise, baby.”

So that’s exactly what Tyson does the next few weeks, every free moment he tries to show you just how much you mean to him, without smothering you. Whether it’s taking you out for dinner, although you’re still waiting for Tyson to actually make you dinner by himself one day, to small coffee dates and fresh flowers at work. It’s been a lot to process, a lot of adjusting to this ‘new’ Tyson, or rather seeing the ‘old’ Tyson again. And you missed him, God you missed him so much.

Tyson seems happier, more at peace with himself these days, it’s a pleasant change. Often you wondered what was really going on inside his head, but you stopped trying after he waved it off again, and again, and again. The late night phone calls, or facetiming during road trips have become a habit again, something you didn’t think you would ever experience again with him. You still take things slow with Tyson, deciding to rather allow yourself to slowly start trusting him again than diving head first into a relationship again. Maybe it will never come that far again, you don’t know how the future will look like for the two of you, but for now it’s enough.

You come face-to-face with a smirking Melissa when you get home from yet another ‘iced coffee and donut’ date, even though you’re pretty sure Tyson isn’t allowed to eat any donuts. “Oh no,” you groan at Melissa’s expression.

“It’s time we have a little sister-sister conversation, don’t you think?” she asks you, ushering you into the living room.

“Do we?” you groan again, not in the mood to handle whatever Melissa wants to talk about now, because you already know it’s either about you, Tyson or you and Tyson.

Melissa flops down on the couch, patting the place next to her, indicating for you to sit your ass down. “Did you already talk to him about it?” she asks, straight to point in pure Melissa-style.

You let your head fall back against the cushions, sighing loudly. “I didn’t. We’re doing great, we’re having fun. I’m going to ruin it if I start asking questions again.”

Melissa stays quiet for a minute, trying to figure out the right way to approach this sensitive topic. “You know you deserve the truth, right? You can’t rebuild a relationship when not everything’s on the table, sweetheart,” Melissa says softly, knowing you’re struggling with this.

“I promise I’ll talk to him after the road trip, I don’t want to create any unnecessary negative energy before,” you promise Melissa, although she gives you a ‘who are you trying to fool here’ look before switching topics.

A few days later you find yourself back at Tyson’s place. It’s weird being here, knowing you don’t live here anymore. Nothing changed, absolutely nothing, Tyson kept everything the way you did, whether it’s out of laziness or out of hope you’ll come back on day. Either way it’s weird coming back to a place that’s no longer your home. You came here to talk, nothing more nothing less. You promised Mel you would, and if you’re being honest with yourself it’s time to know the truth, time to reopen old wounds and finally get some answers. You’ve grown closer and closer to Tyson, without knowing everything, without knowing you’d be able to forgive him if he ever made a misstep. It’s time.

Tyson has been a nervous wreck ever since you called him last night after he returned from the road trip to St. Louis. He knew this was coming, but he prayed you would simply forget, even though he knows that’s not fair at all. He can’t excuse his behavior, and he won’t, not anymore. You deserve nothing but the truth, the full truth. He’s not proud of it, but you leaving him opened his eyes, showed him he really needed to change. Tyson feels like that’s something he truly did, he changed for the better, he can only hope you’ll feel the same way. He can only hope you’re still on the same path after tonight.

“You did great these last games, Ty,” you smile at him. You’re proud of the way he’s been performing these last couple of games, he really stepped up his game.

“I know you didn’t come here to talk about my performances on the ice, so can we please skip the pleasantries?” Tyson sighs, catching you completely off guard with his rather harsh approach. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I’ve just been so fucking nervous since you called me,” Tyson curses, frustratedly brushing his fingers through his curls.

“You’re right though, I did come to talk. I think it’s time we lay all our cards on the table,” you tell him, nodding at your own answer.

You nervously bite on your lip, playing with the cup of water in your hand. It isn’t every day you ask your ex these questions. Questions you want the answers to, question you maybe don’t even want to hear the answers of. “I need to know if you cheated on me, Ty,” you blurt out, keeping your eyes on the ground, not wanting to see the look on Tyson’s face.

“Look at me, baby,” Tyson says, urging you to look up at him. “I never cheated on you, I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.”

You shake your head at him, not knowing what to do with these emotions surging through your body. “It doesn’t make sense, Ty. Where were you all those nights? Where were you every time I lay in bed alone waiting for my boyfriend to come home? Waiting if he actually comes home this time or stays out all night again? Where were you?” At this point you’re past the civil conversations, past the friendly banter, you need answers, you need to know why he did what he did. The reason doesn’t even matter at this point, you need to know why. Why did he leave you alone so many nights, worrying about his well being, worrying about if he would come home at some point?

“Fuck, y/n! I know I fucked up, I know I did. But I swear on everything, I swear on my career, I swear on you that I never, never, touched another woman. I never kissed another woman, I never even danced with another woman, I did not cheat on you,” Tyson exclaims, hoping, praying you hear what he’s saying, that you’ll believe him. He didn’t do anything with another person, it was always you, it still is only you and he’ll do everything in his power to prove that to you every damn day.

“Then where were you, Ty? If you weren’t with another woman, then where the fuck were you every night you didn’t came home? Please enlighten me, because I’m so lost, so fucking lost,” you say, feeling utterly frustrated with yourself, with Tyson, with this shitty situation.

Tyson takes a deep breath, placing his cup back on the table. “Shitfaced drunk to the point I couldn’t even remember my own name, or so stoned I saw freaking elephants running all around town. Spending my money on unnecessary shit at clubs and bars, all to forget, trying to forget the fact that I had a perfect girlfriend waiting for me at home, while I did stupid shit. Fuck, this sounds even worse out loud than in my head,” Tyson groans, burying his face in his hands.

“But...,” you start, before Tyson cuts you off.

“I felt ashamed and guilty, y/n. Ashamed I let it get that far every time, guilty I didn’t tell you, guilty I didn’t come home again. One of the guys would just take me back to their place out of sympathy, letting me crash on their couch, trying to sleep off my haze.”

You try to come up with words to say, with anything but nothing comes out, you just feel.. empty? “I don’t understand, Tyson,” you say, at this point not even sure what you don’t understand.

“I tried, y/n. I tried to just come clean, but I couldn’t when you were so nice all the time, I couldn’t when I knew you would hate it, hate me. You know I’m a fucking lightweight, that makes it even worse. But those are no excuses, there aren’t any. I fucked up,” Tyson sighs, giving you a sad smile, “I couldn’t face you, I didn’t know how to show you my vulnerable side without letting it change the way you saw me. I didn’t want you to see me any different, but I didn’t notice I changed until you packed your bags and left me standing in the doorway.”

You’re absolutely speechless, there are so many things you want to say but you can’t form any sentences, any words. You just stare at him, your mind racing with an unlimited amount of thoughts. “Are you okay, baby?” Tyson asks softly, reaching out to put his hand on your arm.

You shake your head from side to side, wiping away the tears that spilled out. “I’m not okay, I’m definitely not okay,” you tell him. “I feel terrible knowing you didn’t feel like you could come to me, like you couldn’t talk to me. I’ve always been your biggest supporter, nothing would’ve changed that, Ty.”

Tyson gently wipes the tears away from underneath your eyes, scooting closer to where you’re seated. “Come here, baby,” he softly says, opening his arms for you. You hesitate for a second, not knowing if this is the right thing to do. Fuck the right thing, you definitely need a hug right now, and judging by Tyson’s facial expression he needs one as well. You lean forward, putting your arms around his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his body. How long has it been since you hugged each other? You can’t even remember, way too long. Tyson closes his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to his own body.

“I missed this, Ty. I missed you,” you confess, the feeling of his arms around you, the feeling of Tyson, bringing back so many memories, so many happier times.

“I know we still have a long way to go, but I hope we’ll do this together. I can’t even tell you how great it feels to have my arms around you again, even if it’s just for a moment,” Tyson says, after you both let go of each other.

“We do, but I’m in if you’re in, Ty,” you agree, wanting nothing more than to work through the issues you still have. It’s time to forgive, time to let go, time to change and time to move on.

“I’m all in.”

The talk you had with Tyson that Wednesday evening did wonders for the both of you. You still had a long way to go before you were even remotely close to where you used to be with Tyson, but the most important thing was that you were working on things. Slowly, but steadily the two of you worked on trusting each other again, telling each other important things again, just simply working on being in a healthy relationship again. Although the word never came up, you were nowhere near ready for that commitment, so you settled on something less intimidating. Friends.

It was supposed to be a regular, normal Friday evening with just Melissa and the kids. Gabe and Tyson were playing one of their most important games this season, both of them begged you to come, but it was too late to find a babysitter. Not wanting to be by yourself there and leaving Mel alone, you decided to sit this one out as well, promising to cheer them on in front of the tv. It’s the least you could do. So there you are, seated on the couch wearing your Jost jersey for the very first time again, just as you promised. Weird, like nothing ever changed, even though the exact opposite is true.

You’re bouncing a giggling Linnea Rae on your knee, looking down at her adorable mini jersey. “Look it’s your daddy!” you exclaim excitedly, pointing at the closeup shot of Gabe.

“Daddy!” Linnea Rae giggles just as excited.

You catch Mel softly smiling at your little interaction with her daughter, enjoying the love you share for each other. It’s been a blessing to have you around here, the way you care for her children, but also for her and her husband has been phenomenal. Mel couldn’t wish for a better friend, for a better sister than you.

“Oh no,” you whisper when Tyson gets slammed hard into the glass. Melissa grabs your hand, squeezing softly.

“He’s going to be fine, he’s a tough guy,” she says, trying her best to comfort you. And he is, like the tough guy Tyson is, he gets up again, shaking off the hard hit. The game continues and you’re glad Tyson is fine, skating like he didn’t just get squeezed between a glass wall and a 200 pound hockey player.

All goes well until Gabe decides the best place to smack his stick is directly against Tyson’s face, again. “Not his face, Gabe! Not his fucking face again!” you yell at the screen, thanking Mel for already putting the kids to sleep.

“Shit, that looks bad,” Melissa almost whispers, squeezing your hand again.

You don’t know many things for sure in life, but you sure as hell know Tyson will be spotting a black eye for weeks. But like the tough guy he already proved to be, he just goes on with the game, trying his absolute best to work as hard as he can, giving himself completely to the game, anything to get his team the victory.

“That’s the second time you gave my man a black eye, Gabe. Why do you keep hurting him?” you whine the second Gabe walks into the living room. For a moment the room stays awfully quiet, until you realize what you just said. “I really said that, huh?” you ask, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“You sure did. But I’m sorry, it was an accident. Again,” Gabe chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.

“Uhu, again,” you say, rolling your eyes at your best friend.

Gabe grins at you, flopping down on the couch next to Mel. “I’ll try not to hurt his pretty face again, okay?” Gabe laughs, shaking his head at you in a playful way.

“Is it weird if I, you know.. went over to check up on him?” you ask your friends, suddenly insecure about the thought of just showing up at his door.

Gabe gives you a soft smile. “I’m absolutely convinced he’d love that, y/n,” Gabe says, pulling Melissa closer to him.

“I know he would, sis,” Melissa agrees with her husband.

“Fine, okay. I’ll be back in a few. Don’t enjoy yourself too much,” you tell the two lovebirds before finding your stuff and almost running out of the front door.

You’re giddy the entire drive to Tyson’s apartment. This could go two ways, either it goes extremely well or this backfires completely. You’re hoping for the first one. Seeing Tyson get hurt gave you some realizations. One of them is that you absolutely hate to see him hurt, and you want nothing more than to be there for him, care for him, to tell him everything will be alright. Which brings you to your second discovery of the evening: you still love him, you’re still completely and utterly in love with Tyson. You can’t, really can’t imagine your life without Tyson in it. It’s your turn to tell him you need him, tell him you don’t want to do anything without him, tell him you still see a future together.

You pick up his favorite comfort food on the way over, cake. You know his nutritionist will hate you for this, but he deserves a treat after taking a stick to the face. You chuckle to yourself when you think of the small cake you bought, it’s stupid and childish, but you love it. The fun you already had makes it absolutely worth it. You park in front of the building, hopping out of the car and quickly making your way over to the floor Tyson occupies.

You rummage around in your coat pocket for the lighter you bought alongside the cake. Quickly placing the cover back into the bag, and lighting up the ‘2’ shaped candle. You snicker to yourself, enjoying this way too much. You knock on the door and patiently wait for Tyson to open up. You hear Tyson approaching, making it harder and harder to keep your composure.

The moment he opens the door his face shifts from slight annoyance, to confused, to happy, and back to confused again. “y/n?” he asks softly, looking between you and the cake, confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Happy second black eye!” you yell, before bursting out in laughter.

Tyson can’t help but join you in your laughter, if there’s one thing he loves about you, it’s your wicked sense of humor. “You really are something special, aren’t you?” Tyson chuckles, shaking his head softly at you, a smile playing on his lips.

“You tell me, Jost,” you say, giving him a wink before walking past him and inside his apartment.

“So you bought me a cake?” Tyson asks you, looking over your shoulder to the cake on his kitchen counter.

“I sure did, thought you’d deserved a treat after what Gabe did to you, again,” you laugh.

“He sure likes to hit me in the face with things. But thank you, this really means a lot to me, baby,” Tyson softly says, squeezing your hip with one of his hands, before grabbing two plates. While Tyson cuts the cake you look for something to drink, deciding water will do for the night.

You flop down on the couch next to Tyson, immediately bringing the fork with a piece of cake to your mouth. “Oh God, that’s so good,” you moan out, you picked some killer cake.

“Don’t make those noises, please,” Tyson groans, stuffing his face with cake.

“I’m sorry I picked such a good freaking cake, mister,” you laugh, nudging him with your foot. Tyson rolls his eyes playfully at you, grabbing your foot with his free hand before you can nudge him again and again.

“Movie?” Tyson asks after you both finished your plates, although Tyson finished the last few bites of your piece. Like he said he’s a needy and hungry man.

“Sure, but just something light and funny, Ty. Nothing dark,” you tell him, knowing he’d love to scare you throughout some horror movie.

While Tyson scrolls through the movies, you make yourself more comfortable on the couch, laying back against the cushions with your feet against Tyson. He looks at you, scanning your body, clearly thinking about something since his eyebrows keep furrowing and relaxing.

“Come here, Tyson,” you softly say when he finally picks a movie to watch, opening your arms for him. His eyes shoot to yours, like he can’t actually believe you just told him that. He gives you a quick smile, before moving towards you, laying down beside you.

He rests his head against your chest, just like he used to do so long ago, his arm wrapped around your waist. “Is this okay?” he asks you, making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, even though you’re the one who suggested this.

“It’s perfect, Ty,” you reassure him.

Halfway through the movie you can’t resist the temptation to run your fingers through his curls any longer. Tyson groans softly when your nails rake over his scalp, sending chill through your body. “That’s so good, please never stop doing that,” he groans out, pulling you tighter against him.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Ty,” you tell him, smiling at the way his eyes shoot to yours.

“You aren’t? Are you serious?” he asks you quietly, eyes still locked on yours.

“I am, love. I came to the conclusion that you’re worth all the risks in life. You’re my light, my guiding light in darkness, my light at the end of the tunnel,” you say, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead. You try to express your emotions towards Tyson, trying to make him feel what you felt when you came to the sudden realization he’s worth taking a risk.

“What does that mean, baby?” Tyson asks you softly, an uncertain smile on his lips.

“It means I’m willing to give us another shot, another go. I want to try again, Ty.”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips when you look at Tyson’s face, the realization setting in, the happiness and the gratefulness spreading all over his face, the relief flooding through his body.

“How does that work?” Tyson asks again, clearly trying to rid himself of any insecurities, any questions he has. You gladly take those insecurities away from him.

“A clean slate, completely starting over again to give us both a fresh start. How does that sound?” you ask him.

Tyson nods at you, the happiness radiation off him. “A fresh start, I like the sound of that,” Tyson muses. The changes on his face fascinates you, it seems like he goes through a whole range of emotions in just a few minutes. Until he reaches one you know all too well, mischief. He looks at you, the familiar glimmer in his eyes tells you he’s definitely up to something. He sends you a soft and sweet smile, that almost melts you into a puddle right there and then. “Hi, I’m Tyson,” he says, extending his hand to you. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, this is exactly how Tyson is. Funny, charming, an absolute dream.

“You’re a goof, you know that?” you tell him, softly shaking your head at him, but the big grin on your face tells him you loved that. Tyson intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing softly. When he doesn’t make any other moves you take matters into your own hand, slowly leaning in and softly pressing your lips on his. The familiarity, the rush of emotion flooding through your body hits you like a ton of bricks. The feeling of his lips against yours light something deep inside of you, and just like that you finally feel complete again.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost fic #tyson jost x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #tyson jost fanfiction

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flosbelova · 4 years

Text

they don’t know about us

i’m back with another story lmao. also, after writing this, i realized how ironic it was. whoops.

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florence pugh x reader

summary: you and florence have been dating in secret. however, when she’s involved in a dating PR stunt to promote her new movie, you start to get worried and wonder if your relationship will ever meet the public eye.

fluffy with a hint of angst.

warnings: language, smutt-ish (18+)

word count: 3.2k+

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you and florence have been dating for almost a year now. surprisingly, no one has found out. sure, the paparazzi have followed you guys around, but you were always careful not to look like a couple. but because everyone loves rumored romance, fans had begun speculating about your relationship. however, both you and florence have denied these “rumors” and state that you’re just “very good friends.”

but the thing is, it kills you every time you have to deny our relationship with florence.

you and florence met at an after party from an award show and instantly hit it off. within a couple weeks, she had asked you to be her girlfriend and you being a paranoid person, you told her that you’d think about it. she looked hurt at first and you felt stupid for turning her down the first time, but you came to your senses and finally said yes.

ever since then, you have both lived quietly in peace. you noticed that florence seemed to be content with the way things were: “secret.” and since it didn’t bother her that much, you figured that it shouldn’t bother you either.

when florence started filming “don’t worry, darling,” you would visit the set often and stay in her trailer. no one ever really batted an eye because you were usually in the corner and no one ever noticed you. when she wasn’t in a scene, she’d quickly run to her trailer and attack you with kisses. God, your make-outs felt like they could last an eternity. but they were usually cut short as a crew member would knock and tell florence that her scene was coming up.

fast forward to now, it’s time to promote the movie. however, because hollywood is hollywood, articles immediately came out stating that florence and her co-star, harry styles, were hollywood’s new “it-couple.” this killed you inside, obviously. but you chose not to say a word to florence because you wanted her movie to be big and for her to get more recognition.

press after press, magazines after magazines, interview after interview, photo shoots after photo shoots, articles after articles, you fucking name it. “harry styles and florence pugh: hollywood’s favorite couple.” God it killed you to see it. it was EVERYWHERE.

your family and friends that knew about you and florence kept messaging you asking if you two had broken up. you had to explain over and over that it was just for press and nothing else.

but then, you thought about it. was it really just for press? what if she started developing feelings for him? what if she actually leaves me for him? am i not good enough? why do we have to be secret? would it kill her reputation if we said anything?

these questions were racing through your mind like crazy. finally, after much thinking and trying your best to meditate on it, you decide to ask florence the question.

—

it’s sunday morning, it’s a rainy day in LA, what an odd sight. you get your coffee and take a sip, enjoying the sound of rain hitting the roof and windows. you loved the rain.

you hear footsteps coming from behind you and feel soft arms embrace you. florence rests her head on your shoulder.

“good morning baby,” she says in her adorable morning voice.

you turn your head to face her and give her a quick peck on her nose. she scrunches her nose and oh god, your heart might as well have jumped out your chest. she was so cute every single time she’d scrunch her nose.

y/n focus. you have important questions to ask florence. fucking focus.

you let go from her embrace in which you heard a whine from your girlfriend. you walk to the kitchen and put your coffee down on the counter and ask florence to sit down.

“babe, can you please sit down? we need to talk.”

you can tell that florence was caught off-guard with the expression on her face. she sits down across from you and looks at you with a worried smile.

“y/n, is anything wrong?”

you can hear your own heartbeat at this point. in fact, that’s all you hear. suddenly words aren’t coming in your brain. focus y/n. focus. you take a deep breathe and come clean.

“okay, i know we’re a secret and it’s fun being sneaky and all, but i gotta admit, it’s killing me. i also have to admit that this whole PR stunt relationship with harry is killing me. look harry’s a great guy and all but—“

“i know,” florence says cutting you off.

“oh,” you say feeling somewhat assured.

“y/n, you can’t hide anything from me. your face said it all,” florence says.

“your face said it all,” damn your expressive face.

“oh,” was all you could utter.

“i’ve started to notice when you started to get distant. in that moment i knew that it bothered you.” florence says afflicted.

you didn’t speak. you couldn’t think clearly. did i really get distant?

“y/n? are you gonna say something?” florence asked anxiously.

“um, what are we gonna do? i mean, what are you gonna do? are you gonna say something? it’s been two months since the movie came out and people are still talking about it—“ you ramble.

“y/n,” florence cuts you off again. “you know how this shit works. it’s the ‘hollywood culture.’ things like this aren’t gonna die down in just a couple of months, especially for something this big.”

“then what’s gonna happen with us?” you ask hopelessly.

“nothing will happen. we just have to wait until this dies down, sweetheart.” florence says, reaching for your hand, trying to sound reassuring.

you pull your hand back. it’s clearly shown in your face that you’re conflicted and angry. “florence, i don’t want to wait for this to die down. i’m tired of us being kept a secret. i’m exhausted of having to explain to my family and friends that we’re still a couple and that this stuff is just for press. i’m tired of having to worry if you’re developing feelings for him. i’m tired of having to worry if you’ll leave me for him. my heart aches every single time i see you both on the cover of a magazine when i go grocery shopping. i love you too much to let you go.”

florence furrows her brows and looks choleric. “why can’t you just understand that i love you? why can’t you understand that this stunt is JUST a stunt to me? maybe because you’ve been so busy being so distant and jumping to conclusions. y/n, i’m exhausted too. i really am,” she says, her voice breaking. “do you know how much it breaks me because you’ve been so distant? this past month, i’ll try to hug you, and you barely hug back. and when i try to make conversation with you, you barely respond. i miss you y/n.”

your eyes are filled with tears at this point and look up to see florence with tears falling down, clearly heartbroken and in agony. on instinct, you walk towards her and pull her into a tight hug. florence hugs you back and instantly breaks down in your arms. you stroke her hair and kiss her on her forehead.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper quietly.

you couldn’t help but feel guilty that you made her feel this way. it’s true, you had been distant. you had been so caught up with worrying about the “what if’s,” and didn’t think for a second about what florence might have been feeling. this movie rested on her back and she had to do whatever she could to make sure that this movie was gonna get the recognition it deserved. even with this whole stunt, florence never questioned your relationship for one second. you did.

God, i feel like a dumbass.

you grab florence’s face and wipe the tears from her eyes. it pained you to see her cry, even when she was acting. only this time, she wasn’t acting. this was real. this was a real life situation.

florence smiled weakly at you and quietly said in almost a whisper, “i’m gonna say something soon. it’s about time that people knew.” she sniffs.

your heart dropped to your stomach. you started to regret even letting her know. i should’ve just kept my mouth shut.

florence clears her throat and continues, “it’s good that you brought this up. for weeks, i’ve been thinking how to bring this about to the public— i even confided in harry and asked for his advice,” she laughs softly.

you look at her with worry in your eyes and florence easily reads you like a book.

“don’t worry, darling. i got this handled,” florence says smiling. “also, pun heavily intended.”

you roll your eyes and chuckle lightly and hug her tightly once more.

—

a week after your conversation, you check your phone and notice that it’s filled with a couple notifications. you wondered why since your phone usually had tumbleweeds passing by. you noticed that your calendar had a very important notification. you went to check and oh shit.

how could i forget?

it’s your one year anniversary with florence and you completely forgot.

what the fuck is wrong with me?!

florence barges in the room with a big smile on her face and a tray full of food. she sets the tray on your bedside nightstand and kisses you on the cheek.

“good morning, baby! happy one year anniversary! look i made you pancakes with chocolate chips— just the way you like it— and look! i cut the strawberries to make them into hearts!” she squeals.

you looked at her dumb founded and all you could do was grab her face and kiss her passionately. she moans quietly and moves to straddle your lap without breaking the kiss. you move your hands from her face and move it to her waist and pull her in closer.

florence grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in much closer, breaking any other space in between the both of you. you feel her tongue run across your bottom lip to test the waters and you slightly open your mouth and let her tongue slip in. you let out a soft moan as her tongue touches yours. she breaks the kiss to catch her breath for a moment and proceeds to leave trails of kisses down your jaw to the crook of your neck. you feel her nibble on your neck and you couldn’t help but moan.

the sound of your moans have to be on florence’s top list of favorite sounds because what she did next made you jump.

as she continued to leave wet trails of kisses across your neck, florence slides her hand under your shirt and squeezes your boobs and runs her thumb over your nipple.

you move your chest more towards her, but as soon as you do so, she removes her hand and moves it back to your face and presses her lips gently on yours. she pulls back and looks at you alluringly.

you give her a pout. “damn we were about to get to the good part, why’d you stop?”

she strokes your cheek with her thumb, smiles, and shrugs. she gives you a quick peck on your lips.

“eat your breakfast,” she says to you.

“you’re a damn tease,” you say annoyed.

she winks at you and gets up from your lap. she leaves the room and you grab your tray and follow her to the kitchen. you took the plates from the tray and set them on the island table.

“why’d you get up? i made that to be eaten in bed! do you not get the concept of breakfast in bed?” she asks sarcastically.

“my bad. do you want me to go back?” you respond.

“no, you already made the effort to bring the food here, so we might as well eat.” she says.

—

“okay, i have a confession to make. i kinda forgot that our anniversary was today,” you say embarrassed.

florence chuckled, “i know.”

“well to make up for it, can i treat you out to lunch?” you ask nervously biting your lip hoping for a satisfactory answer.

florence had always been vocal about eating out because she didn’t want your relationship to be exploited. and because LA was always buzzing with paparazzi, you and florence usually chose to get food delivered or, florence would cook both your meals.

but to your surprise, florence says, “yeah. let’s do it.”

—

you drove to this restaurant in west hollywood that most celebrities were known to go to. they always had good services and their appetizers were scrumptious.

when you walked inside, you noticed how many eyes were on you and florence. you wondered why and then you realized… florence was holding your hand.

you tried to let go but florence tightened her grip and whispered in your ear, “it’s okay,” and gave your cheek a quick peck. you knew damn well people noticed that.

when you finally got to your table, you noticed how many heads were turning. your heart started beating fast, chills went down your spine, and your hand started to sweat.

after you got your meals, you nudged florence’s arm.

“baby people are looking.”

she looks up at you as she brings her food to her mouth and says, “let them look.”

you went back to your food and tried to focus on eating, but of course, you couldn’t. so, you checked your phone and you guessed it, your phone was buzzing with notifications from your friends and social media mentions.

“baby, put your phone down and eat. we’ll get out of here quicker if you finish your food quicker.” florence says, taking your phone and setting it next to her.

you sigh and continue eating.

after you both finish, you look out the window and noticed all the cars and people passing by. the view from the outside was so nice. the sky finally cleared up and LA was back to being sunny.

you didn’t notice it then, but florence had snapped a picture of you admiring the view from the restaurant window.

“alright, y/n, wanna get out of here?” florence asks.

“yeah, let’s go home.” you respond.

you insisted on paying the bill since it was your treat, and made sure to tip your waiter extra money.

after paying the bill, florence stands up and grabs your hand. your eyes widened for a quick second because she was holding your hand in public, once again.

that same night, florence posted the off-guard picture that she took of you and posted it on her Instagram with the caption: “my favourite view. happy one year my love.”

you decided to check your Instagram and saw that your photo was the first thing you saw on your feed. you did a double take because you couldn’t believe that florence had actually posted you.

you checked the comments and it consisted of avid fans who were excited, shocked, and in disbelief.

“OH MY GOD I KNEW IT”

“HOLY SHIT WHAT??”

“wait, what about her and harry??”

“i thought her and harry were dating?? i’m so confused”

“florence!” you scream out from the living room.

“yes, darling?” she screams back from the kitchen.

she walks towards the living room and as soon as she gets near the couch, you stand up, and try to hug her eagerly, but instead you both fall to the ground. you quickly get up and help florence.

“i’m sorry, but what the hell?” you ask in shock.

florence furrows her brows and looks annoyed. “what do you mean, ‘what the hell?’ you tackled me—“

“you actually posted me?” you interrupt.

she changes her mood and says, “oh that? yeah i did. i decided it was time, and believe me, i was getting tired of the stunt too.”

you couldn’t help but smile. you kissed her so quickly that she almost fell. “i love you so fucking much.”

—

the next day, your phone was still buzzing with notifications but this time, it was double the notifications. you decided to check your phone and saw articles supporting your relationship, saw other articles that explained hollywood’s infamous PR stunts, and unfortunately, you noticed that some articles were trying to paint florence as some sort of “cheater.” this angered you to your core.

why the fuck would they accuse her of cheating? that’s a whole wad of bullshit.

you get up from your bed and walk to your kitchen. florence was already there preparing coffee. she turns around and yelps.

“Y/N!” florence yells.

you laugh. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to scare you.”

you walk towards her and give her a big embrace. once you pull back, you don’t let go just yet. you give florence a quick kiss and finally let go.

“my phone has been buzzing all morning” you say annoyed.

“yeah mine too,” florence says, looking defeated.

you notice her expression. you grab her hand. “baby what’s wrong?”

florence let’s go of your hand and waves off her annoyance, “i saw an article that called me a cheater and i’m not gonna lie it ruined my morning.” she turned around to the island table and took a sip of her coffee.

you felt your anger rise up, but you calmed yourself. you wrapped your arms around florence’s waist from behind, and hugged her until she felt better. as soon as you do this, she turns around and wraps her arms around you, returning the embrace.

“i’ll be okay. my publicist called me this morning and said that she cleared up any rumors or accusations.” florence says, sighing.

“okay, that’s good,” you say, stroking her hair. you gave her a kiss on her cheek. “is everything gonna be alright?” you ask.

“yeah. i’m sure they will.” florence says in a hopeful tone. “whatever happens, i’ll be okay; we’ll be okay.”

you kiss her gently and whisper, “i love you, flo.”

“i love you more, y/n,” florence returns, and presses her soft lips onto yours.

—

a couple of weeks passed and you and florence’s ‘incident’ was basically last year’s issue. magazines and articles had finally shut up and stopped accusing florence of being a cheater.

you had wondered why they would even call her that since the relationship between her and harry weren’t even real to begin with. almost everyone knew that it was a PR stunt anyway, and yet, they still called her that. fucking hollywood.

however, you had noticed that florence’s mood had improved more within the weeks since she was finally able to post you. any chance she got, she would post you. as much as it embarrassed you, you kind of enjoyed the attention. you enjoyed finally being able to go out in public, hand in hand with your girlfriend, kiss her, without a care in the world. you both promised to always tell each other anything, and both of you would do your utmost best to fix them. all was well in the world. you loved each other and didn’t give a fuck about what other people had to say. and that’s all that mattered. you both loved one another.

the end

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh fanfic #yelena belova #dont worry darling #harry styles #writing #fan fic #wlw

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thebetterluthor · 3 years

Text

Long rant on why Edith Crawley is the worst non-evil character of Downton Abbey

Listen. I’m re-watching the show. It’s been a while. I thought, since there’s a new movie coming out, I should revisit this soapy mess I love. Only downside, it reminded me why I despise Edith Crawley, and why she should just shut up and go away.

First of all, something I noticed this time around that I hadn’t picked up on in previous viewings of the show: Edith only ever talks about herself. Literally. Almost every single conversation she has with another character that is 1-1 (as in not in group conversations such as during a dinner scene) is her talking, ahem, complaining, about her problems and how difficult her life is, and how Mary is making her miserable and ruining her prospects etc.

Can this dumb bitch shut up about her issues? Notice how in the 6 seasons of this show, Edith has never, not once, made a friend downstairs? Has Edith even ever stepped foot in the downstairs areas? I’d think not.

I’ll take it even a step further, and say that all of Edith’s interactions with people from the “lower” classes, have consisted of her taking advantage of her position.

She went to that poor man’s farm to “help out” driving his tractor, because she was feeling useless, and almost broke down his marriage.

She spoke highly of Tom after Sybil’s death and his eventual managing of the estate, but literally never helped him out in any way.

She took advantage of the family that agreed to raise her daughter in an absolutely ghastly way.

She honest to God worried about the state of her dress when Carson collapsed at the table due to illness.

Beyond that, I’d also argue that she is the worst example of an “independent” woman. She was entirely dependent on her father, and later on on Mathew and even Mary, eventually, (since she was running Downton with Robert and Tom after Mathew’s death) for her continued existence as a spoiled brat until she finally decided to get off her ass and do something with her life shortly before the show ended. She was constantly preoccupied with the idea of finding a man. Her sister was dead, and she’d still go “oh I can’t bear to look at my sisters’ children”. Your sister is DEAD, you stupid bitch, stop complaining! Her jealousy rendered her incapable of enjoying anything in her life, and she was incapable of seeing her own enormous privilege.

Speaking of sisters and jealousy- I see a lot of people complaining about that scene where Mary reveals Marigold’s identity and while, yes, Mary does it out of spite (although who can blame her, Edith is so fucking annoying), Edith deserved it?

First of all, she was going to ruin her own life -again- because she was incapable of owning up to the truth, and she’d get married to a man without revealing the truth about her own fucking daughter. So one could argue that Mary did her a solid by saving her from that mistake. Second of all, you can easily say she owed her this for how, by revealing Mary’s secret (and don’t get me started with the rape-y Pamuk scene, I’ll never shut up) she practically ruined her chance with Mathew, or anyone else really, in those early years.

But to be honest, all the idiotic things she’s done: her making out with a married man, practically dragging another man to the altar when he didn’t want to be there (and then complaining when he dropped out as he had wanted to do in the first place), her being ridiculously self-centered, literally never caring or helping anyone else for 6 fucking seasons, not even her self-flagellation by constantly antagonizing Mary (even though she knew Mary was capable of being a vicious bitch if provoked), all of this paled to what was, to me, Edith’s worst actions, and the ones that have completely condemned her in my eyes: her dealings with Marigold’s fate.

Edith gave that child up twice. And then took it back. Edith gave that child to 2 different mothers, and then took it away. Fuck this bitch? Especially that second family, that poor woman who had taken in this baby out of the kindness of her soul, loved it as her own, fed it and cared for it even though she was a poor farmer’s wife, and then Edith just shows up and takes it away?

No dude. Not cool. Not only did she absolutely wreck these women and their families, she doesn’t pay for her actions. Remember the poor servant girl who made the same “mistake” as Edith? The poor girl who ended up on the streets, starving, forced to work as a prostitute to make some money, a social pariah who, eventually, tragically, gave up her son?

That woman fought. Hard. For her baby. What did Edith do? Edith thought of her own fucking self. AGAIN.

She didn’t have an abortion because she couldn’t face whatshisface if she gave up the baby, fine. She went to Switzerland so that, presumably, she could find a good family for the child. She found a good, respectable family. Then, she took the child away again from that safe, wealthy, home, because she couldn’t deal with the fact that she gave up a child. She put up her daughter with a poor farmer who couldn’t provide what the other family could, but obviously loved Marigold. Then she took the child away again, because she, couldn’t deal with not raising her daughter.

Fuck Edith. Fuck Edith and her constant complains. Fuck Edith who is so self-centered she’s incapable of seeing how she is the architect of her own misfortune like, 9 times out of 10, and who can’t spend a minute a day thinking about anyone other than her fucking self.

I’d be the first person to say Mary can be a grade A bitch when she wants to but dude, dude, I’d slap the life out of Edith, so she should be grateful all Mary did was point out that Edith was a waste of fucking oxygen.

#Edith Crawley #I rarely hate characters #I absolutely abhor this one #Edith should have died in season 3 #not Sybil #Downton Abbey #a rant

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fairyavengerwrites · 4 years

Text

treat you right ⇝ steve rogers

content warning: explicit smut, 18+ MINORS, PLEASE DO NOT ENGAGE. cheating, mild angst and fluff, oral (f recieving), fingering, vaginal fucking, mild size kink, dirty talk (Steve’s apparently freaky) unprotected sex (wrap it up ladies and gentz pls)

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

word count: 1,859

author’s note: i think this came to me in a dream? so obvs it had to be written. was originally gonna be Bucky but I think it’s Steve’s turn. i happened to write this half delirious in the middle of the night, so even though i’ve checked it like seven times please expect spelling errors!! so... yeah, enjoy!

You let yourself into Steve’s apartment at the compound, knowing that he wouldn’t mind you letting yourself in and waiting for him anyway, not once he saw the state you were in.

You were beside yourself, really, brokenhearted and upset. You’d gone to yours and your boyfriend’s shared apartment after a long day, hoping to surprise him by coming home on time for once, only to find him balls deep in your bed. With the girl he told you not to worry about. And her best friend hovering by them, kissing him and running her hands all over him. You didn’t even let him explain, just beelined out of the apartment, right back to the compound.

Since starting this job, you and Steve had almost become inseparable, and he knew more about you than anyone else on Earth. He’d even known about your relationship troubles, and your suspicions of your boyfriend, advising you on what to do about the situation. Steve had also told you to break up with him, and now you were wondering why you hadn’t listened to him and done it sooner. Oops.

You were already settled on Steve’s sofa, partway through a tub of Ben and Jerry’s when Steve arrived at the apartment, immediately sensing your distraughtness.

“What’s the matter, doll?” He dropped his bag where he stood at the door, kicking his shoes off before striding over and dropping on the sofa next to you. You sniffled, feeling the tears finally brim at your eyes.

“He was cheating on me, Steve,” you answered tearfully, clutching the ice cream closer to you. “I got back to him i-in bed fucking that girl and her friend.”

“Doll,” Steve said gently, extending an arm out to you. You instantly moved into him, burying your head in his chest as you started to sob.

“You were right, Steve,” you hiccuped, muffled by Steve’s shirt and the sobs. He started stroking your hair, staying silent to let you express the emotions you were feeling. “I just- I feel so, so stupid! The signs were there, and I-I tried to be angry, but it still hurts.”

“Of course it will, doll.” Steve’s tone of voice was soothing, calming you down a little. “You were with him a long time.”

“A waste of four years,” you muttered, shuffling so that you sat up properly. “I hate feeling like this, Steve.”

“Well, how about this- a pizza and your favourite movie?” Steve prompted, still softly stroking your hair. You nodded, smiling faintly at him.

“Now you know how to treat a girl right, Steve.”

An hour and a half later, you and Steve were one pizza and half a bottle of your favourite wine down, belittling every single aspect of your former boyfriend.

“And you know what I just cannot get my head around?” you said to Steve, placing your glass down on the coffee table.

“What?” Steve prompted, nodding for you to go on.

“I don’t even know how he was pulling all those girls! I mean, I don’t have any other experience to go on, but by god, he was terrible in bed. I always dreaded it each time.”

“He didn’t please you? Satisfy you?” Steve answered, furrowing his brows. You shook your head. You surprised yourself by how comfortable both you and Steve were discussing this.

“He would just rub me a little and then put in and he was done in five minutes,” you explained, sighing.

“Nothing else? No foreplay?” You shook your head again, grimacing at the lousy memories.

“No. It seemed nice for my first time, but it soon became unexciting.”

“I hate to see you not being treated right, doll,” Steve muttered stroking your cheek. All of a sudden, you became all too aware of your proximity to Steve, and you bet that you were close enough for him to hear your heart pound. The mood in the room had changed like the flip of a switch, and you could feel everything in that room. “You want me to show you how it’s done?” It took you a moment to understand, but you could feel yourself flush as you realised what he meant. You nodded eagerly, moving in just a little bit closer to Steve.

“Use your words, doll, and I promise I’ll make you feel good. Make you forget that bum.” Both his hands cupped your jaw as you barely whimpered, already breathless.

“Steve, I-I want you to m-make me feel good,” you stuttered, clutching onto Steve’s shirt. He flashed you a quick grin before caputring your lips in a passionate kiss, pulling you onto his lap with one muscular arm so that you were straddling him. That same arm kept itself wrapped around your hips, pulling you right up to his chest as he dominated the kiss. Unable to stop yourself, you moaned gently into the kiss, feeling yourself beginning to get wet in your panties. He never made you feel like this, not this fast. It was electrifying and you were loving it.

The hand that had been cupping your jaw moved down to your body, palming your breasts through your shirt. You started to softly roll your clothed core against Steve’s own, your instincts taking over, and you moaned when his teeth pulled on your bottom lip. His large hands temporarily moved from their places to pull your shirt off of you, and he paused to look at you, groaning whilst he unclasped your bra.

“Shit, doll,” he muttered. His hands covered your tits, stroking your peaked nipples. “You’re a goddess.” You gasped when his mouth nibbled on your left nipple, stroking and pinching the other one. You gripped Steve’s broad shoulders harder as you started to roll your hips faster. Then, Steve swiftly flipped you so that you were lying on your back, caging you in his arms. He kissed you again, and your curled your arms around his neck. A moment later, he started making his way down your body, placing light kisses as he moved down you. You whimpered and sighed as you felt the ghost touches in apprehension of what he was going to do next, your mind marvelling at the possibilities.

Steve worked quickly at your jeans, peeling them off to reveal your panty-clad mound, your wetness leaving an almost embarrassing sized wet spot. Well, you would’ve been embarrassed if you weren’t so lust stricken. Steve groaned at the sight, and in the same moment ripped them of you. You couldn’t help but moan at the example of strength he showed, your hole clenching around nothing.

“You’re so soaked, doll, all for me,” Steve growled, before he dived into your pussy, lapping and sucking like you were his last meal. You had never felt so good in your life, and the sensation was so overwhelmingly delightful.

“Steve!” You moaned, tangling one hand into his hair. The other was clutching onto the sofa cushion for dear life. You could feel the pleasure building itself up and up and you held onto every bit of it.

“Taste so sweet, doll,” Steve muttered, sliding a thick finger into you. His mouth continued its attack on you as his finger started to slide in and out of you. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you let the pleasure take over you, losing yourself in the feeling. You continued to whine, unable to keep yourself still. Steve’s other hand placed itself over your hips to stop them from moving so much when he added a second finger. Then, all of a sudden, you felt immense pleasure wash over you in waves when he forced a third finger inside of you, feeling impossibly stretched, reaching a crescendo as you came. Steve did not stop his violation of you until you stopped squirming about.

“Steve,” you moaned again as his head poked up. He grinned at you, his mouth covered in your juices.

“That was beautiful, doll,” he said, crawling back up your body. “But I’m not done with you yet.” You whimpered, thinking of all the things he could do with you next whilst he started kissing you feverishly once again. You melting into him, hooking your arms and legs around him. You didn’t notice him strip himself of his trousers and pants, but you did feel his heavy, thick cock on your clit, creating friction on your lips as he grinded gently against you.

“Now you tell me if this hurts, doll, ok?” Steve whispered, placing a tender kiss on your cheek. One arm balanced him above you whilst the other lined him up against your hole. You nodded, biting your lip as you looked at Steve. He promptly thrust into you, sliding until he was at full hilt. You gasped, this time uncomfortably as you realised just how big Steve was.

“Want me to wait, doll?” he asked. You nodded, clutching onto Steve. His free hand moved onto your lips, circling your button gently as you forced yourself to relax. Moments later, you felt the ache ebb, and you urged Steve to start moving.

“Please,” you begged, and Steve grinned at you, starting to slowly thrust in and out of you. Your head fell back as the delectable feeling started to roll over you again, clouding your brain. You couldn’t hold back any of the moans you let out, relishing in the heavenly stretch. “Steve!”

“I know, doll. You wanna cum again, huh?” He moved back down to your chest, nibbling on your nipple between words. “I wanna make you cum forever, doll, watch you orgasm over and over.” You couldn’t even respond, lost in the feeling of his cock filling you, reaching every inch of you.

“Fucked you dumb already, haven’t I?” Steve didn’t stop his tirade as he continued rutting, speeding his hips up. “It’s ok, doll, I’ll keep ya stuffed as long as you want me.” You were near sobbing, screaming as another orgasm neared you. You never realised sex could feel this good, that it was supposed to feel this good. He was right, you never wanted to stop.

“You gonna cum for me again, doll?” Steve asked, and you nodded eagerly, wanting it more than anything in your entire life. “Go on, then, doll. Cum.” His other hand, the one on your clit, moved faster, adding to your pleasure as you let it wash over you once again, this time wailing as you finished for the second time that night.

“Steve!” You cried, chanting his name over and over as he started snapping his hips faster.

“So beautiful, doll. Gotta fill you up now, though, make you mine,” he growled. You were tender as he kept moving, chasing his own orgasm. You laid there, spent but satisfied as he stilled in you, finally cumming himself, filling you as promised and groaning your name. He stayed there, hovering over you and kissing you anew.

“Steve,” you moaned gently. “That was.. that was so good.” You chuckled, throwing your head down.

“Hey, doll?” Steve asked, and you hummed to let him continue. “I should’ve asked this first, but let me take you out tomorrow. On a date.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #captain america #captain america x reader #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu smut #mcu fic #reader insert #chris evans smut

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

FATWS One Shot #6 - No One Said Anything About a Metal Arm

Word Count: 2011

Warnings: Explosions, Gunshots, The Winter Soldier, Implied Death, Stevie Almost Crying

Setting/Characters: Towards the End of Captain America: The Winter Soldier; Reader, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Maria Hill, Nick Fury, Bucky Barnes; Mentions of Alexander Pierce, Arnim Zola

A/N: This one took me a while to write and I’ll tell you why. Rewatching this movie made me want to do a complete rewrite of it. I had so many ideas of where the reader could be and why and what she was doing then and all that. But…I told myself this is a One Shot of her unofficially meeting Bucky for the first time. Which is why it seems incomplete - because it kinda is - it’s just that scene picked from the movie. Am I happy with it? Eh. Am I holding back from writing more parts and just saying “forget this piece, it never happened”? Maybe. But, I can’t. I wish I could. But if I were to rewrite this movie, I’d rewrite the next one. And the next one. And it would take me months to finish these. So…this is what you’re getting.

Also, NO ONE MENTION WHAT’S ABOUT TO HAPPEN IN A COUPLE HOURS! I’M THIS CLOSE TO FREAKING OUT!

Thanks! As always, it’s not beta’d, so please excuse mistakes! Enjoy reading, be kind to yourselves and others, and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

********

Sitting on the edge of the old dam was calming. Peaceful, even. The constant sound of the flowing water, the trees swaying in the slight breeze. It was nice to take a breath after everything that had gone down the past week.

To say you were worried was an understatement. The last time you saw Steve was the evening after you met Sam. He dropped you off at your place, refusing your invitation to stay saying that he should probably check on his apartment since he hadn’t been there in a while.

A lot had changed since then.

Steve was wanted by SHIELD, along with Natasha. Fury was considered dead, but was actually still kicking in the structure beneath your feet with the help of you and Hill. You had tried to go after Steve, but it was too risky. Pierce - who you were almost 100% certain was behind this whole thing - had been keeping a close eye on you since Steve ran away, knowing you’d be behind him. You tried to catch the blonde at the hospital, but you were seconds too late, meeting up with Natasha who told you STRIKE already took him away for questioning.

You had been called by Hill and she told you what had happened. Fury had asked for your help specifically, considering the amount of times you’d had to fake your own death while being undercover. And you’d been dealing with that ever since.

You had wanted to go get the three of them - you learned Sam joined Steve and Natasha, which somehow didn’t surprise you - but Hill refused, saying you needed to stay there just in case.

But Fury was fine, no one was coming, which is how you found yourself swinging your legs above a hundred feet of rushing water.

It didn’t last long. A car pulling up to the side entrance caught your eye and you immediately swung your legs around to rush towards the stairs. It’s not like you haven’t gone longer without seeing Steve before. You’d gone months without seeing him. It was your job. But this was different. Whether it was because for the first time he was the one who left or because he was on the run from the organization you worked for, you didn’t know and didn’t care. All you knew was you needed to see him. Make sure he was okay.

It took you a while to get there, all the stairs and corners and twist and turns. You got there just as Fury ended his explanation, hearing him tell the trio, “can’t kill you if you’re already dead. Besides…I wasn’t sure who to trust.”

Your footsteps were echoing and you were sure Steve heard you but when you entered the room, his eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening. “Honey?”

“Oh thank fucking God.” You breathed out, jogging over to squeeze him tightly.

“Y/N…” He murmured in your hair, hugging you tightly back. “What happened? Why are you here?”

Pulling back, you jerked your thumb over your shoulder to the director. “I’m saving his ass.” Your finger then jabbed into his firm chest, your lips falling into a frown. “And worrying about yours. Are you okay?”

“I am. Natasha got shot, but she’ll live.”

You looked over at Natasha, who nodded in confirmation, before looking back into those azure eyes of Steve’s. “What happened? Pierce is keeping a tight lid on everything. I was gonna come find you, but I couldn’t because he was watching me. It’s a miracle I got away from them to help Nicky boy. I haven’t gone out since. But, honest, I was gonna-”

“Honey, honey. You’re rambling again.” Steve chuckled, hand resting on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. “It’s okay. I’m glad you’ve been safe here. Pierce is behind this whole thing-”

“Yeah, I figured that-”

“-It’s HYDRA, Y/N.”

You froze. “What? HYDRA? Whaddya mean?”

Steve nodded. “HYDRA’s what’s been infiltrating SHIELD. It’s a long story, but Zola continued it when he was hired for-”

“Operation Paperclip. Yeah, I remember learning about that.” You ran a hand over your face. “Okay…” You hummed, looking at the three of them. “Let’s…talk about it more in a little bit. I know we gotta act soon, but Natasha and Fury need to heal a little bit longer and you should get some rest. You look tired.”

Everyone seemed to agree with your statement, starting to disperse from the room. You started walking out, too, when Steve grabbed your bicep and pulled you aside, down the hall a ways away. You opened your mouth, only for him to pull you into his chest.

“I’m really glad you’re okay.”

You nodded, lightly scratching his back, your arms around his slim waist. “I’m glad you are too.” You could feel how tense he was, which was understandable considering what he’d gone through the past couple days. But there was something else. Something in the grip he had on your shirt. The way his heart was hammering against your chest. His erratic breathing and his ducked head. You pulled away to catch his jaw between your fingers, eyes scanning the anguish in his own. “Bubba? What’s wrong?”

It took a moment for him to answer, his eyes growing sadder with every second that passed. “It was Bucky.”

“What?” You felt like the air was knocked out of you. “What do you mean?”

“The Winter Soldier. The assassin who shot Fury. The one who tried killing us on the bridge. It was Bucky. It is Bucky. I saw him, Y/N. I saw his face. It’s him. He survived. When they experimented on him, it must’ve…God, I’m so…I didn’t even notice…I didn’t even check…I left him…” he shook his head, which fell to your shoulder. “Stupid. I’m so stupid.”

“No, no.” You shook your head quickly, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as you twisted to kiss the hinge of his tense jaw. “It wasn’t your fault, Steve.” You mumbled softly, lips brushing over the shell of his ear. “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. He fell thousands of feet, Stevie. You wouldn’t have found him even if you did.”

HIs grip on your hips tightened. “But I didn’t even try.” His voice broke on that last word. “And how could I not notice something going on with him? There were two years between being experimented on and falling. How-?” Voice catching in his throat, he stopped talking to stop himself from crying. You knew he hated crying.

“You can’t do anything about past Bucky.” You reminded him gently. “But you can help him now.”

“He didn’t even remember me.”

“Then make him.”

********************

To say you were pissed was an understatement. “I’ve been doing undercover stuff for years! This is a piece of cake!”

Steve shook his head. “You’ll be more helpful with Hill. You know more about Project Insight than me, Sam, and Natasha.”

“Bullshit, Steven! You just don’t want-”

“Honey, please.”

You clenched your jaw, glaring at him as he gave you those fucking puppy eyes, his dumb pink lips stuck in a pout. Letting out a rather aggressive puff of air, you looked away. “Fine. But I hate you.”

He beamed and nodded. “I can live with that.”

“Okay.” You glanced at the others. “You all ready?”

“Let’s get these sons of bitches.” Sam stated, making the final adjustments to the wings.

Natasha gave a smirk. “As long as you are.”

Turning back to Steve, you raised an eyebrow, waiting for the captain’s orders. He nodded. “Let’s head out.”

****************

“There’s a problem on the flight deck.” Hill informed you, looking at the alert.

“Alright. I’ll-”

“Stay with Hill!”

You rolled your eyes at Steve’s voice through the comms. “Sorry, Cap. You’re breaking up.”

“I know I’m not, Y/N! I’m serious! Stay there!”

But you were already moving towards the flight deck. “I’m not gonna sit on my ass here, Rogers! Hill’s got it covered! I’m just gonna go check it out!”

“Honey-!”

“Bubba!”

The line went quiet and for a moment you thought you lost connection. “Please stay safe.”

You let out a sigh at his quiet pleads, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “That goes for you, too, Steve.”

By the time you got out there, most of the jets were in flames, pilots and crew members scattered around the deck. You scanned the wreckage, trying to find the source-

A gunshot made your head whip to the side. Found it. Or, more accurately, him.

He was standing on top of one of the jets, gun pointed down at the pilot that was sitting in it. Before he could slip in the cockpit, though, you took out your gun and fired at him. Even though you knew who he was, when he looked at you it made your blood run cold. It was confirmation - not that you didn’t trust Steve - but still. Seeing is believing. yet seeing the same eyes you’d seen sparkling up at you from pictures now staring you down, void of any emotion? It was hard to believe it was the same person.

“Oh shit. Bubs?”

“What?! What’s wrong?! Are you okay?!”

You took a couple steps back as the Winter Soldier, no. Bucky - Steve’s Bucky - strode towards you. “Uh…nothing, nothing. I just I, uh, found your Bucky.”

“Y/N, get outta there now! I told you to stay with Hill!”

“Fuck!” You dove out of the way as the assassin started shooting at you. “Now’s not the time for reprimanding, Steven!”

You tuned out his cursings so as to not get distracted when you became engaged in a hand-to-hand fight with the fucking Winter Soldier.

“Hi.” You grunted, ducking under his arm and throwing a kick at him, faking it at the last second. Except, he’d already grabbed your ankle. But you did kick him with your other foot. But…he didn’t really move and it made you fall back, so…fail. You let out a grimace when the wind was knocked out of you, but you couldn’t lay there for long as he moved to slam his foot down. You rolled out of the way, swinging your legs up to hit him in the back of the knee. “Nice to finally meet you.”

He growled as Sam exclaimed, “are you seriously chatting with him?”

“It’s mostly one sided - dammit!” The both of you had gotten on your feet again, and you tried hooking your left knee around his left shoulder to tug him down, but he had slammed you against a jet, your leg stretched in a very uncomfortable position as your free foot stood on your toes. He had his metal arm - which no one had informed you about and you were kinda salty about it - against your throat, his other hand coming up in a fist.

Bouncing on your toes a bit, you finally lifted your free leg up to knee him in the side of his face, making you wince slightly at the stretch and the burn in your left thigh, which was the only thing besides his metallic limb holding you up against the jet.

He stumbled to the side, throwing you by the leg on his shoulder. You went sprawling against the pavement, a hiss leaving your lips at the serious roadburn you no doubt just got. Sitting up quickly, not wanting him to get the upper hand, you let out a breath seeing him swiftly moving into the cockpit of the jet he just had you pinned against.

“Guys…he’s…heading your way…just a…heads up. Also…thank you. It was nice…to fucking know…about the metal arm…beforehand. I’m just gonna…rest here for a minute…”

“You’re not hurt too bad, are you?”

“No, Cap. No, just…gonna be aching for a while. Ugh…” Begrudgingly, you got up to your feet. “I think I’m gonna…go back and chill with Maria.”

“Told you so.”

“Shut up, finish your job, and don’t die, Rogers! And next time, please, for the love of God, mention the metal arm!”

****************

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dongofthewolf · 3 years

Text

Dancing in the Deepest Oceans- Chapter 3

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

Your first date with Abby doesn’t go quite as planned.

Warnings: mentions of blood and injury, swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, uhhh yea I did that

Here’s chapter three! It definitely took way longer than I expected to do since I really wanted to get a lot of those requests done, so I’m v sorry about that.

Also I kinda cheated and included someone’s request for a bath scene with Abby in this so shhhhh it’s fine I’m just lazy productive like that okay LOL. I hope you all enjoy (esp if you requested the scene) ! :)

Read the previous chapter here

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. You felt like the protagonist in one of those cheesy rom-coms from back in the day; the ones where the girl suddenly stumbles into the arms of her true love and everyone sings a happy song, except this isn’t a movie and also it’s kind of the apocalypse or whatever. You didn’t care though, this was the closest thing to rom-com perfection you were getting and you couldn’t complain, because it was with her.

Though you had only known Abby for a few short days, something inside you couldn’t help but feel like you had known her your entire life. The intimacy of those few stolen glances, the slight brushes of your shoulders, the way your hand fit perfectly in hers; it all felt so natural. You just hoped she felt the same way.

She should be here.

You glanced down at your watch again, it was 8:15. Maybe you had heard her wrong? No, she definitely said eight o clock. Your mind swarmed with possible excuses as to why she wasn’t here; perhaps she thought you were meeting at seven and now she was the one who thought you were standing her up, or maybe she thought you guys were meeting at your room and this was the fault of some kind of miscommunication, or maybe she simply forgot. You racked your brain for any possibilities as to why she wasn’t here, trying your best to neglect the most obvious reason out of denial or maybe fear.

The hallway was dark and quiet, the tile floor cold against your skin as you sat with your knees tucked tightly against your chest. Your back ached from leaning against the steel door, and you had become increasingly more embarrassed every time someone passed by. Their lingering gazes made you want to disappear into the earth beneath you.

For at least an hour, you sat outside her door contemplating whether or not you should wait for her. Was this whole thing a mistake? Your heart began to sink at the frightening possibility that she had been toying with your feelings this whole time, that you were just a naive girl with a childish crush on this person you barely even knew. God, how could you have been so stupid? This is exactly why you never formed attachments; they always ended in heartbreak, disappointment, or both. As more time passed, the fear and sadness that occupied your thoughts slowly began to fade into frustration.

This was dumb. Why were you waiting around for her like some lost kitten? You scoffed at how pathetic you felt. Anger began to rise in your chest as you thought of all the things you’d say to her when you saw her—how you’d scold her for standing you up, dreaming up this gigantic speech about how if she wasn’t interested she should’ve just told you. Or maybe instead of yelling you would just never speak to her again. Give her the silent treatment for the rest of your life. That is what she wanted anyways, right?

As you sat there arguing silently with yourself you heard a pair of heavy footsteps headed towards you. You craned your neck to try and see who or what was approaching you, but the hallway was too dark to get a clear view. Panic quickly replaced the anger that had been occupying your heart just seconds ago as you stood up from your uncomfortable position. You could hear the adrenaline pumping in your ears as you squint your eyes at the dark figure headed towards you. A sudden rush of relief fell over you when a familiar face appeared out of the shadows.

“Y/N.” Manny emerged from the darkness. His hair was slicked back into a bun and he wore a nervous expression on his face. The sole of his boots were caked with a thick layer of mud that left a trail of footprints in the hallways, and you pitied the poor soul who would have to clean it up.

“Where’s Abby?” There was a sharpness to your words. You knew you should've been a bit more conversational (Manny had done nothing to you after all), but after sitting on the floor for an hour, you didn’t feel like wasting time on bullshit small talk. If Abby was going to send Manny to get rid of you instead of doing it herself, then the last thing you cared about right now was seeming polite.

“Right, about that…” You raised your eyebrow, Manny’s expression was difficult to interpret and you could tell he was here to break some kind of news to you, but for some reason it felt like whatever bomb he was about to drop was far worse than what you had expected.

“Manny, what’s going on?” You took a small step towards him, searching his face for an answer.

“Isaac sent Abby and I on a supply run this morning. Nothing too difficult, just transporting a few things to another base but…” Manny looked down at his feet as he contemplated his next words “but we ran into a group of scars on our way back and we got separated.”

You suddenly felt a tinge of guilt for thinking all those things about Abby. “W-what do you mean you got separated? Where’s Abby now?”

Manny’s eyes were fixed to the floor as he delivered the news, his thumbs twiddling together nervously. “I uh… well, I don’t know.” Manny noticed your face twist with anger at his answer and tried to diffuse some of it “But Isaac’s already sent out a group to find her. It’s going to be okay Y/N, Abby is one of Isaac’s top soldiers and you know he’ll do whatever he can to find her.”

You were speechless, but more than anything you were frustrated. Frustrated at yourself for thinking such horrible things about Abby—for having such little faith in her. You wanted to scream at your past self for being so ignorant. Tears began to well in your eyes and Manny’s words did little to comfort you.

“I should be out there.” You marched down the hallway determined to find Abby but Manny was quicker.

His hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you back “You can’t go out there Y/N, you’ll die. Abby’s smart, okay? She’ll find her way back.”

You tried to resist his grip on your wrist even though you knew he was right. You weren’t a soldier nor did you have the proper training to leave the outpost alone. And while a large part of you knew it was stupid to try and leave, a much bigger part of you didn’t care. You had to find Abby; you were willing to do anything, even if that meant putting yourself in harm's way.

“I don’t care, I have to go out there.” You managed to yank yourself free from his grip and booked it towards the door but Manny was quick and caught you. Wrapping his arms around your stomach and hoisting you over his shoulder Manny carried you into his and Abby’s room while you fought and cried like a little kid.

“Fucking let go of me Manny!” Tears stained your cheeks as you sobbed into Manny’s shirt.

When Manny finally set you down on his bed you were exhausted from crying; the only thing left in your heart now was an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. You weren’t even allowed to leave the outpost to look for Abby, and the only thing you could do was sit in this wretched room praying she didn’t get mauled by a clicker or hung by a Seraphite.

Manny didn’t feel any better about this than you did, in fact it was his job as Abby’s partner to watch out for her and he failed. Now his best friend was missing and it’s all his fault. The guilt weighed heavily on Manny as he tried to comfort you while you wept silently into his pillow. Even though he couldn’t have possibly predicted the surprise attack, he still felt like this entire thing was his doing. He tried to plead with Isaac to let him go back out and search for Abby but he refused, so Manny figured keeping you safe was the least he could do.

Hours later you got up from Manny’s bed to use the bathroom, and he was nowhere to be found. You figured he probably went to bother Isaac about Abby or something, he was persistent like that.

You splashed some cold water on your face before tipping your head under the faucet to help ease the dryness in your throat. When you brought your head back up you almost didn’t recognize the person staring back at you in the mirror. Your eyes were red and puffy and there were dark circles under your eyes like you haven’t slept in days. You looked like a mess. Your hair was wild and unruly but at least with that outfit you had spent way too long picking out, you still looked pretty cute.

At least you were a hot mess.

The longer you stared at yourself in the mirror, the more unrecognizable your face became. And then for reasons you couldn’t explain, you started laughing. A hysterical laugh that echoed off the walls in the bathroom like a sick symphony fell unwillingly from your mouth, and you couldn’t stop. There was something so incredibly sardonic about the events of these past few hours, that your body just decided to break out into a breathless cackle. It was a twisted reaction to a terrifying situation but for some reason it wouldn’t go away. Your stomach began to ache and your throat was dry and sore again. It felt like this sickening nightmare would never end.

You felt tears begin to well up again when you heard something that immediately shook you from your shocked state: the rattling of the doorknob.

Your heart swelled with hope as you ran towards the door, not concerned about waking up the people in the rooms next door with your loud footsteps. The door creaked open, flooding the dark room with a pale yellow light that blinded you, and from that light emerged a figure you knew all too well— one that you had become intimately familiar with.

Abby limped through the door, at first not even realizing you were standing right there. You were looming in the darkness like some kind of monster, and you tried to speak but nothing came out. The only thing that snapped you out of it was the sound of Abby’s voice, hoarse and hushed like she was speaking into the darkness rather than you. God, you almost forgot how much you loved the sound of her voice.

“Y/N?” Abby wasn’t sure if she was imagining this. She thought maybe the expired pain meds had some hallucinatory side effects and you were just what she wanted to see the most. Abby’s doubts faded into nothing when you took a small step into the light. In that moment she knew that this was real—that you were real.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the harsh lights you saw her face and gasped. To say Abby was in rough shape would be putting it lightly. There were cuts and bruises all over her face and body, and her clothes were absolutely filthy, but you couldn’t be bothered with that right now. You ran into her arms to embrace her tightly and Abby winced at the contact. Quickly you pulled back out of fear you hurt her, but Abby’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back in.

Abby let out a loud exhale and for a small moment the jabbing pains all over her body ceased to exist. The only thing occupying her mind was the warmth of your body—how she could feel your heart beating with how tightly she was holding you, and she could finally exhale.

When you pulled away, a flood of emotions suddenly began to flow through you, filling you to the brim until the only words you could manage to mutter out through choked sobs were “I thought you were-“

“I know. I’m sorry.” There was a somber expression on Abby’s face as she wiped the tears from your cheek with the pads of her thumbs.

You sniffed, looking up at her, you cleared your throat before speaking “Jesus Abby, your face.“ you softly grabbed Abby’s chin, examining her injuries in the light. There were crimson slices all over her face, and she was beaten black and blue. A particularly deep cut on her forehead had been stitched carefully and there was a cotton bandage wrapped around her left forearm. The state of your distress now seemed like peanuts compared to Abby’s state.

Without thinking you hugged Abby again tightly, revelling in the comfort of her embrace. Abby’s eyes were closed when you wrapped your arms around her, her eyebrows were furrowed and you weren’t sure if she was about to cry or scream. Though you didn’t know much about Abby, you did know she was a soldier—a warrior who wasn’t disturbed easily. You had no idea what she had just been through, but whatever happened had shaken her up pretty good.

“Here.” Bringing your arms up to the strap of her backpack, you helped her ease it off her shoulder. She let out a breath of relief as you lifted the weight from her back and placed it near the door.

Looking at Abby now you finally realized how dirty she was. There was mud and grime all over her clothes and her braid was loose and unruly.

“Hey, uh I’ll run a bath for you, just wait here.” Considering her state you figured a bath would be more relaxing than a shower. Besides, you needed to feel useful right now, and if that meant taking care of Abby for a bit? You didn’t mind at all.

Hesitantly, you made your way to the bathroom and laid out a small towel on the tile floor. Turning on the faucet, you placed the plug in the tub and made your way to Abby, guiding her to the edge of the tub. “Let me know if the water is too hot, okay?”

Abby nodded as she ran her hand under the running water, letting the warmth fall between her fingers. When the tub was full, you turned off the faucet and stood up, using Abby’s shoulders to help steady you as you started for the door but something stopped you.

“Wait-“ You stopped, Abby’s hand was over the one you placed on your shoulder, securing it there so you wouldn’t leave. She looked at you with pleading eyes as she spoke “Can… can you stay?” Abby didn’t say anything more but you could tell by the look in her eyes she needed you here.

“Sure. I’ll turn around and you can get undressed.” You turned to face the door, looking down at the tile floor as you traced the crevices with your finger. The only sound that could be heard was the droplets of water that fell from the faucet echoing against the walls and the soft rustling of Abby removing her clothes. Eventually you heard Abby lower herself into the tub, she let out a loud sigh as the tension in her muscles dissipated from the warm water.

“You can turn around now.” Abby’s voice was quiet when she finally spoke.

Slowly you turned around to see Abby sitting in the tub, her legs tucked against her chest as she hugged herself tightly. Her eyes were fixed on the floor of the tub while she rested her chin on her knee. It broke your heart when you saw her injuries in the light. There were deep purple bruises along her shoulder blades and scabbed over cuts along her arms and legs. You also saw scars, a lot of them. Some were old and faded, while others were new, probably sustained within the last couple of weeks.

The steam from the water floated up, fogging the mirrors and warming the room. You made your way to the edge of the tub with a small washcloth, dipping it into the water just slightly. “Here.”

Bringing your finger to Abby’s chin you lifted her eyes to face yours. Her features softened when you met her gaze and lightly you brought the washcloth to her face. Careful to avoid the stitches on her forehead, you rid the dirt from her face, dipping the cloth into the water every once in a while before bringing it back to her face.

Her freckles were more prominent in the light and her eyes stuck attentively studying your movements. When all the grime was gone, you couldn’t help but notice a whisper of a blush on Abby’s cheeks.

“One hell of a first date, huh?” Abby spoke seriously but you could see a hint of a smirk on the edge of her mouth. A bit of her normal self was beginning to return.

Sitting up more straight now you gave her a small smile. “This is definitely the most interesting one I’ve ever been on.”

You reached for her braid, undoing the elastic and separating the strands from each other while Abby spoke. “Oh so you’ve never bathed someone during a first date?”

“I can confidently say that this is my first.” Grabbing the small bar of soap from the dish in the corner, you dipped it into the water and lathered it between your fingers.

The soap filled the air with the scent of pine and rain and you sighed at the smell. It filled your senses and reminded you of the first time you saw her. Not the time in the cafeteria but on that rainy day when you bumped into her for the first time. You inhaled deeply; it smelled like her.

Gently you began massaging the bubbles into Abby’s hair. Weaving the blonde locks through your fingers, and purposely taking longer than necessary. Watching closely as Abby’s muscles relaxed and her eyes fluttered closed from your touch.

“Lean back.” Shielding her face from the water you grabbed a cup and poured the water over her head, letting the bubbles wash away from her scalp and into the water. “Is this okay?”

Abby hummed in response and you took that as a yes. You repeated the process while you washed the soap from her hair, doing it a couple more times than needed because you knew it calmed her.

The bathroom was quiet again, the only sound coming from the steady flow of water from the cup onto her head, and into the water. It was peaceful, and the both of you were content in this familiar silence. Appreciating each other’s company without the need to fill the air.

When you were done you sat up and laid out a towel for Abby, drying your hands on your shirt. “I’ll grab you some clean clothes, just give me a sec.”

You left Abby to dry off while you searched for some clean clothes. Grabbing what you assumed was a clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants, you made your way back to the bathroom. Standing outside the door, you knocked lightly. “Can I come in?”

Before you could wait for an answer, Abby opened the door a bit, hiding herself behind it. You handed Abby the clothes and she gave you an appreciative smile, it was small but genuine. “Thanks.”

You sat beside the bathroom door waiting for Abby and trying not to think about the fact that she could’ve died out there. She was here and that’s all that mattered for now.

Your mind wandered as you picked at your sleeve, you noticed there were a few wet spots on your shirt from the edge of the tub. The cool air made you shiver and you regretted not bringing a sweater, even if this was supposed to be a night in.

When Abby finally emerged from the bathroom you quickly stood up, unsure of what to do next. Her hair was still damp and spread across her shoulders; this was the first time you had ever seen her without that signature braid and you were in awe of how beautiful she looked. It was such a strange thought but it was the only thing occupying your mind. There was something so rare about seeing her like this that you couldn’t stop the flutter in your heart when it happened.

Grabbing her hand, you led her to the bed on the opposite side of Manny’s and pulled the covers back so she could slip in. When she settled under the sheets you neatly tucked her in before standing up again.

You didn’t know what to do now. Would it be rude to stay? Abby clearly needed the rest, but something in you desperately wanted to stay. You decided to let her sleep and started towards the door when you heard a small voice from beneath the covers. “Stay. Please.”

Abby’s voice was quiet and you could hear the exhaustion behind it. You looked at her with a smile and sat down on the bed next to her, pushing a strand of hair from her forehead before smoothing it down softly. She looked at you apologetically as you caressed her head, and you gave her a look of reassurance even if you were scared out of your mind. Her eyes fluttered closed and her features softened from your touch. You stayed like this for a while, continuing even after her breathing had slowed and you knew she was asleep.

You stayed up watching her sleep; studying the way her mouth was slightly agape as she let out small breaths. She looked so peaceful.

A small teardrop escaped from your eye, and you quickly wiped it away. You knew this wasn’t going to be the last time she’d be like this; battered and bruised and fighting a war that seemed to never end. It hurt your heart to know that she was on this path of self-destruction, but what hurt most was knowing she’d likely never stop.

You tried not to think about that right now. Eventually letting your attention fall onto the wet shirt that was still stuck to different parts of your body. Removing the item you walked over to the drawer where you had found the clothes for Abby and slipped on one of her t-shirts. It was devastatingly oversized on you but it was warm and smelled like her.

You settled onto the space next to Abby’s bed, ignoring the ache in your back as you lay flat on the floor beneath you. Though the pain was worth enduring with the knowledge that Abby was here, and that’s all that mattered to you right now.

While you lay on the floor you began thinking about how different things were just hours ago. It wasn’t long ago that you were practically dancing like an idiot in your mirror because you were going on a date with Abby. It’s strange how many emotions you had gone through in one day, you were almost positive you had broken some kind of record. You chuckled at yourself; surely no one was going to spontaneously break out into a song like in the movies, but you didn’t mind. This was enough— being here with Abby was enough.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook your body and you quickly felt your eyes becoming heavier. The floor was beginning to feel a lot more comfier than when you had sat down and before you knew it, you had fallen into a deep slumber.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson imagine #the last of us imagine #tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson #the last of us #the last of us 2 #fxf #fluff #angst #definitely did not use a The Cure song for my chapter title

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