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weepingvoidpenguin · 4 years ago

Text

One of Your Favorites

Jealous Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have an objective. Get Rumlow to confess. Simple enough, right? No. Aside from his usual condescending attitude towards you, Bucky has made it extremely apparent that he doesn’t think you’re capable of - well, anything, but especially not handling Rumlow. And yet, he is the biggest challenge of this entire ordeal.

Warning: T R I G G E R WARNING!! ATTEMPTED SA, DRUGS, language, light smut. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF SA WILL TRIGGER YOU.

Word Count: 8.3k

“We have good intel stating he’s working as a double agent for HYDRA. Selling information, exploiting tactics, even going so far as to tell them where we’ll be and when.” Natasha scanned the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention during the briefing.

You slouched back in your swivel chair and twisted to-and-fro slightly with your hands gripping the arm rests on either side. It took all of your willpower to act engrossed in her words. And you meant every single drop. You’d been paying attention, sure, but the only issue was the dominating presence two seats to your right and directly in your line of sight to Natasha. You rolled your chair to the left to clear the path for the third time, only for him to block your way without missing a beat. The growl that left your mouth was nearly involuntary. Nearly.

How long would this man act like a child? Despite his graceful and seemingly unsuspecting movements, you were fully aware his placement was intentional. This was not the first, nor did you doubt that it would be the last, time that Bucky acted impudently toward you. Frankly, you’d grown bored of his behavior. It was the same thing everyday. He would act a nuisance during the briefings, speak over you whenever he had the chance, steal the limelight from you and invalidate any concerns or thoughts you shared. The whole charade grew tiring and he had been dancing on thin ice for months now.

You averted your gaze from burning holes through the freshly washed, brown locks and switched your attention back up to the redhead. Thankfully, too, because you managed to catch the end of her sentence just as she locked eyes with you.

“And that’s why Y/N is going to be the one to extract the information from him,” she finished.

You blinked, “Wait, what?”

Bucky straightened his posture and threw a quick glance your way, “Yeah, what? She’s got no heat, couldn’t toast marshmallows if we gave her all day. She shouldn’t lead this, she wouldn’t know how,”

“Well, tonight might be a good time to start learning, then,” Steve chimed in, throwing a wink your way. You smiled and appreciated his aid, not because you needed it but because at this point, you were seething and if you opened your mouth to defend yourself this meeting would go south, quickly. Luckily, Steve always believed you were capable of a great deal of things and knew you strove for more experience so any opportunity to lead or expand was one he thought you should take.

“Besides,” Tony spoke up, twirling a platinum pen between his fingers from across the table, “our little double-agent has always had the hots for Y/N so unless you’re gonna be the one to bat your eyelashes at him and get him alone in a room, Mr. Barnes, we have to use his own flaws against him.” He turned to face you and held up a hand, “Not to say that liking you is a flaw, you’re great Hot-Stuff but exploiting him is our best option indefinitely,”

“Do I have to seduce him?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow towards Nat, trying your damned hardest to avoid the unmistakable glare the brown-haired super soldier was sending your way.

“The only thing you have to do is extract any information on him that you can. Get him a little drunk, catch him in a slip-up or two, take note of any inconsistent stories and be on your merry way,” she reassured, “How you manage to do that is up to you,”

“Ooh, extortion,” Clint chirped up from the far back corner, his hands rubbing together maliciously around an arrow he pulled from his sheathe, something you noticed he did a lot when he was uninterested; be it a person, mission, or conversation.

“No. Not extortion,” Steve shut it down and you chuckled at how Clint’s countenance fell into one of disappointment.

“Not yet anyway,” Natasha mumbled and you sighed as she walked around the room and handed each of you a folder with your individual objectives inside.

“But he’s such a pervert,” you grumbled.

“All the easier,”

The rest of the day was drudged with Nat while she taught the pertinence of body language (both yours and theirs), verbal ruses, and overall ensnarement. You bat your eyelashes until you were certain you would catch enough wind to fly away, smirked enough that your cheeks began to ache and raised your eyebrows ‘til you felt the impending wrinkles on your forehead. By the end of the drill you weren’t sure you were even going to make it to the company party from the migraine creeping its way on.

“How’s the bait coming along?” His voice alone caused you to roll your eyes but you paid no mind while you rubbed at your temples and stood up alongside Natasha.

“She’s not gonna be able to lie to me any time soon but she can flirt her way to whatever she wants,”

“Benefits of targeting a narcissistic misogynist, they don’t think anyone can fool them.” Tony belted as he sauntered into the room with strawberries, offering them out to you while he munched on one.

“She’ll still mess it up,” Bucky countered, “Make someone else do it,”

You plucked the fruit off Tony’s tray and examined it, trying to figure out whether you were going to consume it or use it as a weapon.

“I really appreciate your words of encouragement, James. Unfortunately, they’re not wanted, nor are they needed.” You bit into the fruit and glided towards the door, looking over your shoulder at the super soldier, “So unless you actually have something to contribute, I suggest you stay the hell out of my way while I get the job done,”

Nat walked out behind you and handed you a tiny, skin-colored device meant to conceal itself and you placed it in your ear.

“The conversation is gonna be recorded so we can catch any inconsistencies. We’ll all be able to hear what you’re saying so tread on delicate waters but don’t be afraid to shake mountains if you have to,”

You nodded and opened your door for her to enter your room knowing she’d want to help you get ready for the event. Natasha, shocking as it turns out, enjoys company while preparing for events. She would much prefer to be surrounded by people than be alone. You never had gall to ask her why that is. Or maybe you respected her too much to ask.

An hour had passed, maybe two, but you enjoyed the silence between you both. There was no need to fill the empty quiet when it was so comfortable and welcoming. You two spoke without words at times and that was probably your favorite personal skill. Eventually, there came a knock on your door and you opened to find Wanda with her flat iron and make-up bag in tow. It’d long since been decided that your room was the gathering center.

Wanda helped you finish touching up your outfit and you waited on your bed while they finished getting ready. Nat occasionally quizzed you on certain situations and how you should act depending on the tones and moods of the conversation. You tried to explain that you didn’t have difficulty reading a room but Nat tested you all the same.

“And if he puts his hand on your thigh?” She called out from your bathroom.

“Then he loses it,” you practically sang in response.

You were met with a flying hairbrush and laughed at the onslaught.

“You’re not the only one with that mentality,” Wanda called out as well, her iron glossing over thin strands of hair.

“Nat knows I can handle myself.” You sat up on the bed and went over to your closet to collect your favorite pair of shoes to go along with the formal attire Nat selected for tonight. “What a coincidence that we happen to have a company party the same night we have to extract information,” you hollered over your shoulder, moving aside terribly worn shoes while you scoured for the pair you had in mind.

“This objective has been in the works for weeks now,” Nat released the tendril of hair from around the barrel and pinned it to her head so it could cool.

“Wow, thanks for the heads up, then.” You gripped the desired pair and placed them beside your nightstand for later.

“The plan wasn’t solid until we knew for a fact that Rumlow was coming. It’s a company party so it’s not mandatory but once he heard you were making an appearance, it didn’t take very much persuading,”

You rolled your eyes and plopped back down on your mattress, “He’s so annoying, I doubt I can hold much of a conversation with him,”

“Take a shot or two to ease your nerves, if he sees you drinking it’ll put him at ease too. He’ll be more inclined to drink,” Natasha recommended. “But don’t act too out of character. If you were always curt and short with him and suddenly you start acting over-friendly, he may get suspicious. He’s an idiot but he’s a paranoid one,”

You nodded, taking a mental note to have a half-empty bottle in your grasp when Rumlow arrives. If he thinks you’ve already been drinking, he might also consider catching up.

“Y/N? Not uptight for once?” Wanda sarcastically questioned. “I can’t picture it,”

“Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled and in turn received laughter from the two girls. “Besides, of all of us I’m by far the least uptight. Barnes takes the cake for that one,”

There was a beat of silence that you didn’t register before you were met with a response.

“Ya know, he’s not as bad as you paint him out to be.” Nat unpinned the curl from her head and moved on to the next section, “He’s got some serious loyalty and always willing to volunteer first for everything,”

You lifted your head to stare at her reflection through the mirror, “What are you talking about? He’s annoying and irate and lacks a filter,”

“Mmm, irate isn’t the word I would use,” Wanda countered, looking over to Natasha.

Nat shook her head in response, “I’d lean more towards . . . over-protective,”

“Much better,” Wanda agreed.

You squinted your eyes at their image and felt the corners of your lips turn downwards, “Over-protective? Since when are you two defending Barnes?”

“We’re not defending him, per say.” Wanda glanced over to Nat, “We’re just trying to give you a fresh perspective,”

“You could give me a brand new pair of eyes and I’d still see him the same,” you retorted, now leaning on your elbows due to the strain on your neck.

They ignored the comment, “And he’s only annoying to you,”

“You’re telling me he doesn’t annoy you at all?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

“More like . . . he doesn’t go out of his way to mess with us.” Nat applied a nude color onto her lips.

“So you agree that he goes out of his way to irritate me,” you stated rather than asked.

“That’s been made very apparent,” Wanda responded. “But you have to wonder why,”

You huffed a little and sprawled back out on the bed just to result in staring at the ceiling above. If you looked hard enough your mind would create pictures from the chaos of the cracks and shapes began to form. Sometimes, when the night lay still and life seemed to dwindle at the edges of your reality, you could swear a familiar face fashioned together and your imagination ran wild with the images you’d see. Some that brought a warmth to your cheeks even now.

You shot up out of bed and shook the memories from your vision. Ugh. He haunts you even when he’s not actively tormenting you. How he’s managed to crawl his way so deeply within your skin you had no idea but you fought for control of your thoughts whenever you caught them slipping into that hellhole.

“Or slipping into euphoria,” Wanda chimed in.

“Wanda!” You scolded, crossing your arms, “Euphoria my ass,”

“Yeah, he thinks so too,” she continued and you chucked the abandoned hairbrush back their way.

“Stay out of my head,” you jokingly sniped at her but was met with a low chuckle.

“I didn’t even have to be in your head to know what you were thinking of,” Nat defended and caught your weapon of choice.

“Are you guys done yet?” You rolled your eyes and stretched yourself out before swiping up the pair of heels you’d chosen and sliding them onto your feet.

“Why? Are you in a hurry to see a certain someone?” Natasha teased and Wanda let out an eruption of laughter.

“All right, I’m done.” You made a beeline for the door and threw it open, “Lock up when you’re finished!” You bellowed over your shoulder and made your way to the top floor of the building where all the parties are typically held.

You didn’t run into anyone on the way up and you used that time to calm yourself, prying inch by inch away from the invasive thoughts that called for you in the darkest hours of the night. But, then again, maybe those tormenting thoughts weren’t that bad? You mean, he certainly IS handsome, very much so actually. And he has the most knee-wobbling smirk you’d ever come to know, not to mention those little tricks he does with his knives always manage to entrance you. God, did he know how to use a knife.

On more than one occasion had you caught yourself staring at how his hands encapsulated the hilt of the blade. How they clenched and relaxed, drawing out some of the more prominent veins on one of the extremities; of course, you were even more so enticed by the hand he hid as well. You’d imagined what it felt like to have such strong hands grip onto your thighs and coax you into spreading them open with just a few teasing touches here and there. You couldn’t fathom the front you’d put up would last very long, he was stellar at pulling reactions from you. He’d see you break under his caresses and he’d degrade you like he always did but this time it’d emit a different response from you, one that made you whimper and shake. At that, he’d probably call you a good girl, he definitely seems the type to switch between degradation and praise, and would press his mouth up just where you wanted it the most. You’d try your hardest to be quiet but damn the way that tongue moved against you and the way he’d pull you harder against his face at each sound of pleasure you let slip past your lips. He’d enjoy it, too. Eyes closed as he devours you, he likes to put on a show for you to watch. Give you a memory that’ll slick your thighs later that night if he hadn’t fucked you into a coma by then. He’d make you watch him and if you dared to close your eyes you’d earn a firm, cold smack on your ass. He knows you like when he uses temperature play. He growls a little too, he can’t help his innate behavior. Then, just as the accumulation is coming to its apex he’d pull away abruptly and kiss you straight on your mouth so you can taste yourself and that’d earn him another whimper which would result in another smack that leads to that cold metal trailing its way to your core and just as he pushes the tip of his finger inside-

You cough and straighten your posture as the elevator door opens. When had you leaned up against the back wall of the elevator? Oh Gods, you could feel the slick at the apex of your thighs and you squeezed them together as inconspicuously as you could in fear that you were producing a . . . scent that would be rather difficult to conceal. But the slick only grew worse when you locked eyes with the person stepping into the elevator.

Fuck.

“That’s what you chose to wear?” He asked, a certain venom in his tone that immediately calmed the ache in your heat.

“And what would you have me wear instead, Barnes?” You quipped back, your body facing forward as he took his place beside you in the cramped space.

There was a beat of silence. Then another. “Not that,” he responded.

“Well I’ll make sure to ask you next time since you have such impeccable taste,” you retorted, your eyes yet to abandon the sight of the closing doors.

You weren’t sure of all the effects of the Super Soldier Serum that had been injected into Bucky and all that it heightened but you prayed to any God that would listen that his hearing wasn’t one of those things. You were too preoccupied with attempting to settle the hot pulse beating between your legs to worry about how loud your discomfort came across.

“What do you look so nervous about?” Bucky’s gruff voice prodded. “You can’t possibly be nervous about the mission considering how big-headed you are,”

You took a deep, long breath and held it to soothe you. Had you not been so previously preoccupied, you’d have given him hell for the insult. “I’m not nervous about that,” you sniped and rested back against the cool wall to satiate your burning skin before lifting your gaze to him only to find him already examining you.

“Of course not, I just said that,” he retorted, bringing a gloved hand to his face to rub along his jaw, “there’s obviously nothing for you to worry about,”

You scoffed, “And why is that, Barnes?” Cue the dramatic crossing of your arms.

“You’re smarter than Rumlow and significantly better trained. Overall, he really doesn’t hold a candle to your ability,” He paused for a second, his whole frame tensing until he remembered to relax, “But that’s not really saying much considering it’s Rumlow,”

You hadn’t noticed you raised your eyebrows until you felt your face fall, “Ah, there he is. You had me worried there for a second, Barnes. Thought you might actually try something new and display common decency for once,”

A corner of his mouth turned up subtly and he shook his head. You trailed your gaze down to his hidden hand and stared long enough to burn a hole through the fabric.

“If something’s bothering you, Dollface, go ahead and speak up,”

You weren’t sure what possessed you to say anything, especially knowing how touchy the subject was for him but the words left your mouth anyway, “I don’t know why you insist on hiding yourself,”

He lurched his head back, your statement seeming to have a physical affect on the man and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.

“I’m not hiding myself,”

“But you are,” you interrupted, your thoughts coming out in pools of candor, “you aren’t your hand. You aren’t your past. You are you. Presently. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. That’s not even the same hand you had back then. It’s not tainted and neither are you. I say drop the gloves,”

“And why would I care about what you say?” He growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and his neck tight in potential restraint.

The elevator dinged and you looked towards the opening doors, “You don’t have to but they don’t look right with your suit either.” You walked through the exit and sauntered over to the others who had already gotten the party started, leaving Bucky dumb-founded behind you. “I need a shot,”

“Already ready,” Tony quipped up, holding the small glass in the air for everyone to behold before bringing his cheek to yours in mock welcoming, “This’ll up your tolerance for the next hour, try to get all your drinking done within that time-frame,”

You pulled away with a warm smile after faux kissing his cheek, “Finally!” you displayed and threw the liquid back in one swift motion, your face scrunching together against your will.

“Yeah, she’s got a kick to her,” he mumbled and handed you a fruity drink to chase it down with.

You went around and said hi to everyone as you recognized most of those present. You made small chatter with those lesser known and drank the liquid in your hand significantly quicker than you’d like to. You excused yourself after you finished the drink and walked over to the bar, scanning the room as you were handed another glass. No Rumlow in sight.

You headed towards the foosball table and gripped the handles after setting the beverage down on the counter beside you. You flinched as a reflection of light caught your eye and at first you thought your glass was the source. Until your eyes fixated on the reflection’s actual origin. To your far right, and up a few steps you found Bucky conversing with Steve, a dull light emitting from his hand. Not a glove in sight.

“So, where’s your boyfriend?” Sam inquired when he filled the opposing spot.

You rolled your eyes, “Bucky’s not my boyfriend,”

“Bucky?” Sam’s tone chirped up teasingly, a knowing look wearing on his face.

Your grip tightened around the handles and you slowly pulled away to throw the little white ball through the circle, your hands immediately twisting the miniscule players around. Your eyes shot back and forth, your sight never leaving the darting sphere. Sam still managed to win the first point.

“Ha!” He shouted in triumph, bringing his finger up as if to scold you, “Don’t think you got away with that comment either, Y/N,”

“What comment?” you questioned and gulped most of your drink before slamming it back down on the table.

You heard your earpiece come to life with quiet static and you tried to keep your face masked. Rumlow had entered. Not a surprise either, the party was finally starting to pick up now.

Sam threw the ball in and you turned the players meticulously this time, brute strength hadn’t helped you earlier so maybe you should take it slow. Steve made his way over to the table and threw his drink back, the liquid trickling down the side of his face before he wiped it away. Sam won the second point.

“I play winner,” Tony chimed, standing beside Steve.

You made a point to catch up and now you two were tied at three each.

“Best out of five?” You proposed, quirking an eyebrow at Sam.

“If you didn’t want to play anymore you could’ve just said that,” he teased and you smirked at him as Tony made a subtle show of handing you another drink and you finished your second. “Loser takes two shots?”

“Deal.” You nodded, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice as a small crowd began to form around you two. Rumlow amongst them.

Your jaw dropped when Sam shot the ball directly into your goal as soon as he’d let the ball go.

“What the fuck?” You shouted, “No fair! That doesn’t count!”

Thor erupted in laughter to your right and you blinked slowly, staring at the gargantuan man.

“It most certainly does,” Sam shouted back, his grin practically touching his ears.

“Sam, take it easy on her,” Bucky muttered from beside him, quickly averting his gaze from yours and his expression loosened, “The brat hates losing,”

“Brat?” You snarled.

Bucky took a swig of his beer, watching you the entire time and you reeled back the fire beginning to form in your chest just to bring your drink up to your lips and chug the entire thing down. You handed it over to Tony who left to replace it.

“Last point,” Sam stated, “It’s not too late to quit now,”

You shook your head and blinked away the feign distortion you were supposed to have. “Just play the ball,”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased and threw the ball in.

You wanted to win. Desperately. But you had a character to play tonight and she was supposed to be drunk. So you hit your hand against the corner of the table just as Sam happened to make the winning point. You grumbled and threw him a glare when Tony broke through the crowd.

“Coming through,” he shouted, handing two small glasses to you while you gripped your knuckles in pain. “Noooo, you’re not getting out of taking these. C’mon, take your punishment,”

“Yes, Daddy,” you grumbled and cringed at your own words when the realization hit you. Whatever. You were supposed to be drunk, anyway.

“Daddy?” Tony quipped and pulled the drinks back towards himself, “Maybe you should be cut off,”

“What?” You argued, leaning slightly on the table with your hand and snatching the drinks from Tony’s hold, effectively spilling some on yourself. “See?” You lifted up the half empty shot glass, “This barely counts as a shot,”

“I’ll get her a new one,” Rumlow offered and disappeared before anyone could argue.

“She really doesn’t need another-” Bucky tried to interject and take the shots from you but you twisted around and chugged down the one full glass.

Water.

You looked up at Tony and his smirk was barely noticeable. But you could tell. Bucky nearly ripped the other drink from you but Tony blocked his path and you exaggerated your next drink as Rumlow broke back into the crowd, shot in tow.

“Here.” Rumlow’s calloused hand held the drink up above you and you stared at him with a questioning look. “Open,” he ordered and the fire burning in your chest fought to destroy everything in its vicinity. You bit your lip in refrain but tossed your head back and opened your mouth.

Static broke over your earpiece. Don’t drink that! Wanda’s voice erupted.

Your eyes widened as the liquid made its way down but you coughed hard to stop whatever you could.

Why? Steve’s voice came through right after.

You choked on the liquid and shut your eyes at the way it burned its way down. You reached your hand out to grab someone’s drink to ease the burning and grasped a tall glass and tossed it back. The burning didn’t ease up and you felt a hand rest on your back.

“Are you okay?” Rumlow’s voice rang out and your skin nearly recoiled from the contact, “How about we get you some water?”

You looked up at him when the burning subsided minimally and nodded your head, letting him lead the way to the bar. He parted the crowd and someone took step right behind you to follow when the presence suddenly died out abruptly. You turned around to check who it had been and found no one.

Why? Steve asked again.

Where’s Wanda? Bruce broke through.

You lifted your head and flitted your gaze around the room until you found the familiar Sokovian on the couch, laying down with her eyes closed. You pulled away from Rumlow but his grip on your hand tightened and his steps grew in haste. You whirled your head to yell at him but the way the room swayed with the movement cause you to shut your mouth in surprise.

Didn’t Tony say you would have a higher tolerance?

“Couch...” you muttered, pointing over your shoulder just in case your target was curious enough to ask but the message was delivered.

Rumlow hoisted you up onto the bar stool and stood on your open side, using his body to keep you from falling over. Or to cage you in.

“I don’t feel good,” You rested an elbow on the countertop and held your head up.

“I can’t imagine you would. You’ve been chugging those drinks like they’re water.” Despite that, Rumlow motioned to the bartender and asked for two more.

You giggled and your head lulled forward with the action. You let Rumlow catch you from tumbling over. Why did your body feel so heavy? Not to mention the way everything around you dazed about. You couldn’t catch a single action, let alone attempt to read Rumlow’s body language. But you did happen to notice the way his eyes searched the room before coming back to you.

“You okay?” You rested your forearm against his chest and pushed slightly to allow yourself a better view of his face.

A small smirk, “Am I okay? What about you?”

You smacked your lips and brought the ice cold glass to your lips. That’s not water. “I’m doing reeaalllyy good,” you drawled.

Rumlow chuckled and pushed you deeper into the chair, “I can tell.” He took a sip, his attention never faltering from your body, “Just be sure to pace yourself from here on out,”

You made a show of cocking your head to the side and letting a smile sprawl onto your face as you studied him.

“What?” he questioned, a curious lift in his brow.

You shook your head gently and kept your gaze on him over the brim of your glass, “You’re just . . . not what I was expecting,”

“And what were you expecting?”

Don’t forget to bat your eyelashes. “Worse,”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he jeered, his attention once again cast throughout the room before centering back on you.

You followed his action but quickly came to the conclusion that moving any pace faster than a sloth was going to make you nauseous and you could barely keep a thought together. Your stomach began to rise in your chest and the fear seized your throat shut. Why couldn’t you hold onto a thought for longer than a second? It was like you were aware of your lack of consciousness but could do nothing about it because any thought or bout of panic phased through just as soon as it arrived.

“What are you so tense for, Rumlow? You know you’re not currently on the clock, right?” You teased, your head leaning on your shoulder as you spoke.

He brought his drink up to his lips and finished it off in three gulps, “I’m not tense. It’s just hard to turn it off sometimes,”

You nodded slowly and pushed your drink towards him, “Relax. You know everyone here,”

He shook his head and placed your drink back in front of you before asking for another beer.

“And two shots!” You shouted to the bartender, throwing two of your fingers high up and instantly regretting how fast you’d done it.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked you, a side smirk beginning to form.

You placed your finger over your lips and hushed, “Shh, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You dragged your lower lip down and his eyes fixated to commit the scene to memory. “Besides, I always feel dumb if I’m the only one drunk,”

He motioned to the rest of the party, “Believe me, Sugar, you’re not the only one enjoying yourself,”

“But are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Enjoying yourself?”

Your skin crawled when he placed his rough hand on your barren thigh, “Absolutely,”

Don’t forget what you’re here for. Don’t let the objective slip. Gods, how the fuck were you supposed to retain anything when you were so sleepy? And why was it so warm?

“Hot,” you mumbled, fishing around in your glass for an ice cube to rub on your face.

“Thank you,”

You threw your head back in laughter and nearly earned yourself an up-close and personal view of the floor had Rumlow not wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady. Once he was certain you weren’t going to toss yourself onto the ground, he parted your legs and stood between them to keep you rooted to your seat.

All the movement had you spinning and you white-knuckled Rumlow’s cotton shirt to keep yourself grounded to something, anything. Red warning lights were firing up in your chest and you tensed with the way your body buckled to the panic coursing through you. Your heart pounded in your ears and danced across your skin, lighting it on fire and making the room too stuffy to bear. Please, no. Not now. Focus. Snap out of it. Come back, stay back. Your breathing hitched and you looked down at the sensation crawling its way up higher on your thigh. Too hot. Everything was too hot, if you didn’t get out of this now you would never-

“Vision!” You cheered, happy to see your friend.

The presence on your thigh recoiled slightly.

“I’m taking Wanda to her room, seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” Vision informed and you’d only just then noticed the body in his hold.

“Wanda!” You smiled, admiring her peaceful features as she slept in his arms. You poked at her cheek then jerked your gaze back up to Vision. “What? Wanda doesn’t drink,”

She’s not acting, Sam’s voice erupted in your ear and you flinched at the sound.

Vision’s eyes went from you to Rumlow then back to you slowly, “Y/N . . . are you okay?”

You beamed at him and slowly brought up your thumb. “Good,” you responded.

You followed Vision’s gaze back up to Rumlow and smiled at the agent beside you. You guess he’s kind of cute. In a strange, unsettling way.

“She’s had a lot to drink, so we’re just trying to slow down the pace. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Rumlow looked down at you.

You nodded fervently, “Yup!”

Vision hesitated but knew he didn’t pose much of a threat with Wanda in his arms unconscious, so he quirked a smile and walked towards the hall.

Someone get to Y/N, something’s not right, Vision ordered and you lifted your head up to find him. You could have sworn he just left.

“Here.” Rumlow handed you a glass, “Drink this, it’ll cool you down,”

You stared at the glass in his hold and looked up at him, “You drink it first,” you slurred, holding your finger up at him.

He cocked his head to the side but took a swig of the drink and you watched it go down his throat. You shrugged and grabbed at it.

Do not drink that, Nat ordered from somewhere and you looked around in wonder at who she was yelling to.

Bucky, Sit down! Steve growled.

Like hell, responded a voice you knew all too well.

Your smile grew and you looked through the crowd, “Bucky!” You feverishly called, completely expecting to see him before you. Rumlow’s head lifted instantly, his eyes scouring the area.

“I’ve got this, Pretty Boy,” Tony hastily spoke, “How ya doin’, Hot Stuff?” He interrogated and you reeled at the tone.

“Quite well, thank you,” you responded tenaciously and attempted to take a swig of the drink in your grasp.

Tony’s hand shot out and covered the top, slamming the cup back down on the counter and effectively getting the drink all over your dress.

“What the fuck?” You tried to shout but the words came out heavy and required too much energy to speak.

“You’ve had enough for tonight,”

“It’s just water,” Rumlow defended but Tony paid him no mind.

Your jaw dropped open and you glared at the older man. Who the hell did he think he was? Tony’s stare burned through your skull and despite your irritation, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so pissed.

“Are you mad at me?” You drawled, lulling your head to the side.

“No,” he responded curtly.

“Am I being too loud or something?” You pushed. You couldn’t imagine you were any louder than any other drunken bastard at this party.

“No,”

Get her out of there or I swear to God I will, his voice hissed into your ear.

Your eyebrows rose slightly in excitement, “Mmm, Bucky,” you smiled and Tony nodded.

“’Mmm, Bucky’ is right. Wanna go see him?” Tony offered, sticking out his hand for you to take.

You fell forward into Rumlow’s chest but shook your head furiously none the less, “For what? So he can tell me I’m horrendous at my-”

Oh shit. Your job. The job.

If only your body didn’t feel so heavy and your mind so light.

You pushed off Rumlow’s chest and glared at Tony, “I can handle myself,” you insisted, a new sort of sober tone making its way through that caused him to do a once-over. “I know what I’m doing,”

“How many drinks have you had?” Tony challenged and you fell silent.

Then you felt a tap, and another and a few more.

“Six,” You said, hoping you’d counted right.

Tony, don’t you even fucking consider it, Bucky threatened.

“You could at least change, recuperate and then come back,” Tony offered and you sighed a breath of relief before nodding.

“Deal,” you agreed, “I’m hot anyway,”

Tony gave you one last glance before turning around and blending into the crowd on the other end of the room.

You looked up to Rumlow who’s gaze was still locked on the sea of people, “Don’t you wish you’d taken that shot now?” you tried to jeer, every last word bringing you deeper and deeper.

“Are they always that intense?” He questioned, not turning his attention to you.

“They can be over-bearing,” you admitted, hand grabbing the water from earlier and pressing it up against your forehead, “They consider me the baby so they’re always criticizing and suffocating until I just wished they’d disappear.” You took a gulp, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the family and I like that I have a cause but . . . they don’t let me do anything. It’s exhausting,”

You let out a long breath and smeared the condensation from the glass onto your chest. Rumlow studied you then, not just your body but your reaction. He was watching how you dropped your shoulders at the confession and how you faced your back to them to block them out.

You plastered your torso on the countertop and tried to slow your heartrate down. You couldn’t be the only one here unfathomably hot.

“Why is it so fucking hot?” You questioned, fanning yourself weakly.

“There are a lot of people around,” Rumlow offered, “how about we go somewhere else? Tony did say you had to change,”

You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes and meekly groaned in compliance. “Fine,”

You lifted yourself away from the counter and gently placed your feet on the floor. You’d touched the ground faster than anticipated. Had the ground always been so close?

“Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Rumlow threw an arm around your waist and helped you trudge towards the elevator.

Where the hell are you going? Bucky yelled and the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end.

We can’t let you leave with Rumlow, Y/N. We’re not even sure you’re acting anymore, Sam stated.

Rumlow pressed the button when you couldn’t muster the strength to do it yourself. The level that your room was on lit up and the doors began closing. You thought you saw Rumlow wave at someone but the mock smile on his face didn’t make it seem like a warm good-bye.

Your legs had all but given out by the time the elevator reached your shared floor.

“Heavy,” you muttered, letting Rumlow carry your weight fully.

“I know, Sugar. We’re almost there,” he soothed and you conceded to the fatigue wearing you down.

Your head hung low and your arm dangled uselessly at your side. The familiar sound of your door sliding open caught your attention but you did nothing. You couldn’t.

“How . . . know . . . my room?” You questioned, each word causing you to pull from an empty well of energy.

�� “I’ve been here before.” Rumlow tossed you onto the bed and sprawled you out.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to turn on to your side but strong hands gripped down onto your ankles.

Rumlow sighed and slipped the heels off your feet, examining the pair like he wanted to wear them. You extended your feet until you felt every muscle in your leg stretch to its capacity and let out a groan of pleasure at the release. Those shoes hurt so bad.

“You seem . . . intelligent, Y/N.” Rumlow dropped your shoes onto the floor and slithered to the side of your bed, standing beside it with his hands tucked into his pockets.

A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, “Hot . . .” you croaked and he nodded.

“You’re right. It is getting kind of hot.” He brought a hand up to his neck and ripped off the tie hanging around it.

Get the fuck out of my way, a growl erupted in your ear.

We’re going with you, Buck, Steve responded before knocking something over.

“So, what I have a hard time understanding is. . . why you’re here?”

You groaned a weak ‘huh’ but even that didn’t sound right.

“You’re good at what you do, you finish every mission successfully and yet you’re underappreciated.” He took a seat at the foot of your bed and placed one of your legs into his lap, “Why do you allow them to treat you like that? We wouldn’t,”

The shuffling in your earpiece halted.

“We?”

He began to massage your calf and brought your knee up to his lips, peppering light kisses on it. “We could use someone with your skillset, babe. We’d take real good care of you,”

The shuffling started again.

Rumlow had made his way onto your thigh at this point and you let out an involuntary moan when he skimmed over a delicate part on your inner knee.

“Ya like that?” he questioned but didn’t wait for a response. He brought a hand up to his temple and grabbed the earpiece. You figured he just hadn’t taken it out from his earlier shift but when he pulled it apart, you understood why he always kept it on him.

“Flash . . . drive earpiece?” Your weak tone tilted a little. “W-why tell . . .”

“I figured I’d give you the option to leave since you seem so . . . suffocated. If you said yes tonight then I would remind you tomorrow. If you didn’t,” he chuckled, “well, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” His hands trailed to your mid-thigh and you squeaked. “I’m impressed though, I’ve never given anyone else as much as I’ve given you tonight. The drug usually works so quickly on others, but not you. It’s kind of hot, actually,”

Sick fuck, Natasha growled through a ragged breath.

The world around you was slow or maybe it was you that was slow? You couldn’t tell, honestly. But when Rumlow moved as if he could predict your actions before you could make them, you wondered whether you were moving at all.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” Rumlow sighed.

You shook your head, or thought you did but despite the way your body was live-wired, it remained still against all desire.

Fight. Move.

You managed to push your legs shut but his hand slithered between and spread them open similar to opening a door, but this required much less force.

“Kill,” You threatened and the sinister smile that crawled its way onto Rumlow’s face was vile enough to sink your heart into your stomach.

“Kill is fucking right.” Someone snarled and your door was ripped from its hinges.

Rumlow’s hand jerked away from your body and Bucky seized his open palm, intertwining their fingers and pushing Rumlow’s so far back that they touched the back of his own hand. The cracks were sickening onto themselves but had you not been so weak you would’ve turned from the sight altogether. You really couldn’t fathom how his fingers were still attached at all.

“Lay another hand on her and you won’t be able to use it again.” Bucky spit.

Despite Rumlow’s pain, the sinister smile remained sprawled on his face, “You should’ve heard the noises she made,”

Bucky’s grip tightened and the bones in his palm broke next, “I did,”

Natasha flew in right behind Barnes but completely dismissed the two and headed straight for you with a needle in hand. Your eyes shifted from the needle to Nat’s face and back again until she stabbed it into your upper arm. Ouch.

“Wha-”

“Shh,” Natasha hastily hushed, “Keep your strength, you should be back to normal soon,”

Steve came behind Nat and scooped you up to lead you out of the havoc going on in the room. Nat turned her focus to Bucky and reached over to grab the earpiece from Rumlow. Who knows if his nose will ever heal back normally. You held one finger in the air as Steve stepped over the splintered door.

“Goddamit, Y/N,” Steve huffed, jogging towards the elevator and pressing the floor that led to the infirmary.

“We won,” you croaked out, a small smile on your face and Steve shook his head.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this,”

Steve looked you up and down for bruises but couldn’t find any and you promised you weren’t lying to him when you told him Rumlow did not get very far in his ‘advances’ at all. You had to swear the mid-thigh was the worst that it came to.

Bruce was the one that took a few blood samples and made sure everything was reversing back to normal. Apparently, as soon as Rumlow took you to the bar Tony handed Banner the shot glass that Rumlow gave you and Banner ran analysis on it. The cure was pretty easy to find.

After being given strict orders to lie down for the next hour or so, it had been decided that Rumlow was to be turned in considering all the evidence required to make the arrest was in the flashdrive and everyone was to gather together for a ‘family night’. Whatever the hell that meant.

You were in the middle of debating which movie to pick with Steve when the infirmary doors flew open.

“Where is she?” Bucky nearly shouted upon seeing Bruce.

“That’s my cue.” Steve stood up just as Bucky rounded the corner, “If you need anything me and Banner will be right over there,”

You smiled and thanked him then turned your attention to the super-soldier who just arrived at the foot of your bed.

He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you. No, not really. Not at you but through you. A few painstakingly slow seconds went by that way.

“You owe me a new door,” you joked, a half-smile on your face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, finally registering your presence.

You nodded slowly, “I am,”

Then a few more seconds.

Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands, both of them barren and on display for the world to see, before shifting his weight between either foot, “Did he- did he touch you?”

“Not really. Just really liked my legs for some reason,” your attempt at another quip didn’t reach Bucky. He stared back up at you waiting for an answer, an honest one. You sighed, “The damage is more mental,” you admitted, now you were the one not able to look up, “I didn’t like being in this altered state of mind. It’s invasive and . . . scary. He could’ve done things, much worse things but it never got that far or that bad. It was more realizing that I wasn’t completely conscious or present and having that state of mind be taken advantage of, that mostly frightened me. Ya know?”

“More than anyone,” he answered immediately.

You looked back up towards him, finally making eye contact, “But I’m fine now, really. Just a little spooked. Steve wants to do a movie night tonight and I would actually prefer that over being alone.” Your eyes fixated on the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the bar by your feet, “If I’m alone then I’ll get stuck in my head about it. Besides, I consider this a hard victory with a few bumps in the road,”

He chuckled, lulling his head a bit, “You’re too stubborn for your own good,”

You shrugged, “Maybe. How’s Rumlow?”

Bucky hissed and moved over to the side of the bed where he took a seat, “He’s unconscious. And has a hand that he’ll never be able to use again. But other than that, he’s fine,”

You chuckled and Bucky watched how the laugh met your eyes. He liked that look on you. It was one of his favorites.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned once it fell silent between you two again.

“You called me Bucky earlier,” he remembered.

You scoffed, “I call you Bucky all the time,”

“Not to my face,”

“Not to your face,” you agreed, a teasing smile dancing on your lips and Bucky had one that mirrored yours.

“It was nice. Hearing it, I mean,” he admitted and a wave of warmth made its way to your face.

“I see your hands are exposed,”

He looked down as though he weren’t aware that he’d taken off his own gloves, “These bad boys? A friend of mine reminded me that I’m not my past. I’m my present. Why hide my growth?”

You twiddled your thumbs together, “She sounds smart,”

Now he scoffed, “Oh, it wasn’t a girl, it was some old buddy of mine.” He quirked up a brow, “Unless the person being a girl would make you jealous because in that case it was most definitely a girl,”

You fought against the natural tug at the corners of your mouth, “Is she at least pretty?”

“Stunning,”

“Smart?”

“Genius,”

“Good at her job?”

“Amongst the best,”

“Then consider me jealous, Barnes,”

Bucky chuckled and you watched how the laugh met his eyes. You liked that look on him. It was one of your favorites.

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titan-fodder · 4 years ago

Text

Prima Vista Part III

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of feelings, handcuffs, testosterone, quite a bit of sex, one surprise kiss (cause Erwin is a privileged dick), parents, domesticity A/N: I apparently did not write an author’s note for this originally, but uh, this is one of my favorite sections of the whole fic, so.

Mike uses the rest of the break to relax, to get his head on straight so that when he gets back on campus he won’t be overbearing. He knows that’s the last thing you want from him.

You text back and forth a few times a day, but most of it is dumb shit, and the conversation dies off pretty quickly—either Mike not knowing how to respond or you just growing bored.

He busies himself by spending time with his parents and playing with Scout who eats up all the attention. Family comes over for Christmas, and his mom and aunt get into an argument. It’s nothing new.

He’s happy to get back to the school and back in classes just to stimulate his brain. More than that, he’s happy to see you again. Even if it means the two of you go back to friend-only status.

Things are awkward between him and Erwin, though. It isn’t the first time they’ve had a hiccup in their friendship, but this one has really rubbed Mike the wrong way. Erwin tries to apologize a few more times, but every time he does, all Mike can manage is an unconvincing, “It’s fine,” which the other man obviously doesn’t buy.

He tries not to be possessive when you start coming to the house again, but it’s fucking hard whenever he has to watch you and Erwin talk and joke around. Mike figured you’d be at least a little annoyed that he’d just walked in on the two of you like that, but you act like it never happened.

Eventually, Mike has to ask about it, just can’t help himself. “Aren’t you, like, even a little mad that he did that? Don’t you think it was fucked up?”

You’re sitting on Mike’s bed, a controller in your hand as you play Mario Kart, sound a little distracted when you respond, “I mean, yeah, it was fucked up, but I never really expected anything more from him.”

“What do you mean?”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes before staring at the screen again. “Erwin is a cocky motherfucker. I’ve seen the way he gets the girls on campus, probably thinks he can charm all of them which means he probably thinks he’s entitled to all of them. Us.”

“Are you calling him a predator?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think he’d ever, like, rape anyone. He at least has enough class and common sense not to do that. But I think… He doesn’t care who he goes after. Single girls, girls in relationships, happy girls, damaged girls. He just has a one track mind when it comes to sex. That’s what I’ve gathered anyway.”

Laying back on his bed, Mike laces his fingers behind his head and thinks on what you’ve said. “That just sounds like a drawn out way of saying he’s a flirt.”

“A massive flirt. Without any real care about whose feelings he hurts in the process.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I don’t appreciate it,” you sigh, “But he’s your best friend, so I’m willing to put up with some shit from him.”

“Even him perving on you?”

“Not the first time it’s happened to me, probably won’t be the last. He’s curious, I can tell.”

Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he is.”

You stay quiet for several seconds, toggling over to another track on the game, then ask, “That make you uncomfortable?”

Blinking up at the ceiling, Mike wonders what the right answer to this is. He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he doubts he’ll be able to act as aloof as you do.

“A little.”

You hum, nodding in a thoughtful manner before suggesting, “I think we can keep hooking up through this semester.”

Mike sits up on his elbow, looks at you with high eyebrows. “Wait, really?” He sounds too excited, he knows.

“Yeah. I have mostly easy classes, or really, I have interesting ones which makes studying for them easier. Plus, it might teach Erwin a lesson.”

He falls back flat, scoffing. “I don’t want you to fuck me to prove a point to Erwin. I want you to fuck me because you want to.”

The game music stops when you pause it, and then you’re straddling Mike, hands on his chest as you smirk at him.

“Don’t let this go to your head, Zacharias, but no one has ever fucked me the way you do.”

Mike tries not to grin, triumph blooming inside of him, and he grips your hips a little too tightly. “Oh, that’s definitely going to my head.”

You grind your covered pussy over his denim-clad cock, and Mike feels all his blood flow south.

Laughing, you lean down to ghost your lips over his and murmur, “Both heads, apparently.”

That day, the two of you start a routine that leaves Mike falling harder and harder with every passing day.

“Come on, please just be my date,” Mike begs, thinks about getting to his knees if it’ll help convince you.

“Why?” You ask, looking up from your textbook.

You and Mike are sitting in the library—you studying, him bothering you. “I’m honestly so tired of parties at this point.

“It’s not like the big parties we throw, though,” he tells you. “It’s just the brothers and their girlfriends.”

“That makes it even worse,” you push one little laugh through your nose. “What makes you think I wanna spend an entire night with a bunch of frat boys and their matching sorority girls?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “They’re not all sorority girls, just like, eighty-five percent of them.”

Your head lolls, an expression that reads nothing but apathy aimed at Mike, and he gives you a hopeful smile and adds, “On the bright side, we get to stay together all night…?”

“Oh god, it's a cuff party, isn't it?"

All he can do at this point is beg because the more he explains it, the more he realizes how not appealing this is to you. “Please.”

Sitting back in your chair, you cross your arms over your chest and puff your cheeks out as you exhale heavily. “What’s in it for me?”

Fuck yes. Half the battle is won.

“Uhh,” obviously sex is the first thing that comes to Mike’s mind, so the first offer he makes is, “I’ll go down on you ‘til you cry.”

You snort. “Try again.”

“Fuck you ‘til you pass out?”

“Jesus—why do you want to hurt me? Try again. Third time’s a charm.”

Mike brainstorms for a solid thirty seconds, thinks about what you’ve mentioned to him over the past couple of weeks, sex and school and—

“I’ll help you study for your geochemistry exam.”

You finally look interested. “I’d actually really appreciate that. You took the course?”

“Yeah, environmental geochemistry was sort of my jam last year. Final grade was a ninety-seven.”

“Holy shit.”

Mike shoots you a satisfied smile, but before you can tell him to wipe it from his face, he asks, “So, you’re in?”

“I guess.”

This is how you both end up in the frat house handcuffed together. No one seems to be surprised at the fact that you’ve come with him, all the brothers used to you hanging around the frat house.

Most couples are walking around holding hands just because it takes some of the pressure off of everyone's wrists, but Mike doesn't dare try it with you. Too cute. Too comfortable.

These types of get togethers are Mike's favorite, though, always more relaxed than the open parties. There’s still drinking and music, but the energy is different since it’s a tighter knit group.

It takes about an hour for Erwin and his date to approach the two of you, fingers laced together, drinks in their free hands.

“Looking good,” Erwin greets with a smile. "Very… trapped."

“Yeah, you too,” Mike says, trying to ignore the subtext of Erwin's comment.

Blue eyes flick to you, and you’re questioned, “How’d he end up talking you into this?”

You don’t miss a beat as you reply cooly, “Bribed me with sex and study help.”

“Ah, of course he did.”

Mike’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything, just reaches his pinky out to link with yours, a subtle claim. When you rest your head on his arm, he looks down at you and smirks.

“Anyway,” Erwin pushes on. “You remember Maddie, don’t you?”

Mike lies, “Yeah. How are you?”

The girl’s voice reminds him of who she is, “Well. How are you, Mike?” It’s a little high pitched and nasally with a northern accent. He especially remembers what she sounded like moaning for Erwin through the wall, obnoxious but Mike can’t really judge since he’s subjected the rest of the house to the same thing once or twice (or a dozen times) before.

“Glad to hear it.”

The group stands together for a few more awkward seconds before Erwin clears his throat and asks his date, “Another drink?” then makes his exit.

“You have got to get over this grudge, dude,” you take your head from his shoulder, and Mike immediately misses the warmth. “Like, it’s cute that you’re trying to defend my honor or whatever, but it’s time to move on. You guys are friends. Just talk it out.”

He sucks his teeth, almost tells you about the way he and Erwin had nearly thrown punches at the ranch house, the way the blond had basically admitted to wanting to try you out, but Mike decides against it, doesn’t want to talk too much shit only to end up making up with him.

“Guys don’t really talk it out. We usually fight it out.”

“That’s fucking primitive. You should learn to communicate like mature humans.”

“Probably,” Mike hums. “But not right now.”

Being connected to each other means every activity is a partner activity. The most interesting is playing beer pong against Nile and his on-again off-again girlfriend, Marie, house rule for the night being whoever is throwing has to use their cuffed hand. It’s like a twisted three-legged race and requires an amount of teamwork and coordination Mike has never had to deal with before.

It’s also the first time he manages to beat Nile. Mike had no doubt that the other man would have crushed you by himself, but it turns out the actual couple does not work together very well. All their shots are clumsy, and Nile gets frustrated right off the bat which only makes things worse. Meanwhile, you and Mike come up with a strategy after the first terrible throw and use it for the rest of the game.

You’re both challenged by a few other teams and end up winning every time which has Mike feeling smug about the victories and giddy at how in-tune the two of you are. Gelgar even tells you both, “You guys are good together,” which makes Mike cough as you wave him off.

You drink a little more, converse a little more, and then—as always—end up in Mike’s bedroom.

“You want me to get the key and take these off?” He asks between kisses.

You smile into him, let out a little laugh and play, “You don’t think it’d be kinda fun to fuck with ‘em on?”

“It’ll be harder,” Mike snorts. “But, we can. Won’t be able to take shirts off, though.”

“Good thing we just need to take our pants off.”

It’s clumsy and silly, and you both tug in opposite directions more than a few times. Mike laces his fingers with yours when he goes down on you, relishing in the way you arch off his bed and squeeze his hand. On the floor, you give him head in the same fashion, and fuck, Mike can hardly focus on you sucking him off while your fingers are woven together, even if it is just for the sake of convenience.

He fucks you from behind that night, your face buried in his pillow as he’s buried in you. Both of your arms are stretched behind your back, held at the wrists by Mike’s much, much larger hand. He uses his free one to grip your hip, pushing and pulling you on his cock to his heart’s desire.

You’re so pretty, damp with sweat and moaning his name when your head is turned only to shove it back into his pillow when he makes you scream. Your dripping cunt opens up for him perfectly, making Mike feel more inebriated than alcohol ever could, but as his balls tighten and that warmth spreads in his gut, he has a single moment of clarity, assess the position he has you in and pants, “Shit, I can’t pull out.” Not without ripping your god damn arm out of socket or fracturing his dick.

“Mmm—fuck, just come inside, come inside me, Mike.”

That alone makes him lose it, shooting a fucking copious amount of cum into your pussy, so much that it drips from your hole and runs down your thighs.

“Fucking C-Christ,” he laughs a little hysterically, gathering thick white and slipping it back inside you. Transfixed by the way his added finger pushes more of his cum out of you, he asks in a daze, “You on birth control?”

“Yeah,” you answer in a breathy voice.

Mike hums. “Good. Just gonna sit here for a while then.”

You let out a whimper that turns to a whine when he rubs his slick finger over your clit. Twitching around him, you tease, “F-finger painting again?”

He chuckles, “You know it.”

Honestly, if he could cover you in cum, he would—admire your body painted in white strings, watch it drip down your ribs and thighs. If Mike hadn’t just gotten off, he would be hard again at the mere thought, but for now his focus is rubbing your little clit. Still face down, you spread your legs more and more, and Mike has to curl over you, breathing heavily on your neck as you wriggle and buck, overstimulating him as he keeps his cock nestled inside of you.

He groans just as loud as you do as you start pulsing around him, pussy clenching in a way that actually pulls a few more drops of cum from Mike, then you both pant for a little while until Mike straightens up and pulls you with him, your back to his chest as you hang your head.

“You good?” He questions, brushing his lips over your neck as lightly as possible.

“Yeah,” you tell him. “Just… Full.”

Mike’s body heats all over again as he rests his forehead on your uppermost vertebrae. “Can’t just say stuff like that,” he warns, sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

“Hmm.” He can see the little smile on your face without even looking up. “You did offer to fuck me until I pass out.”

“I have a refractory period, you know.”

You glance over your shoulder, and now Mike gets a good look at your smirk and twinkling eyes. “I can wait.”

Both of you emerge from the room in the early hours of the morning, still stuck together as you quietly make your way downstairs to find the key to the handcuffs. You’re wearing a pair of Mike’s gym shorts, the mesh falling far past your knees and barely staying up around your waist. He knows you’re still messy and can tell by the way you’re walking that you’re sore, but he has every intention of cleaning you up and taking care of all your aches and pains in the shower.

It’s party after god damn party with classes and studying and fucking in between. You have never had this much sex in your life, but you’re not complaining. It takes the edge off, and Mike isn’t the worst company. Far from it, actually. The more you get to know him, the more he falls into what you think is his real personality.

The brash frat boy is a front, you come to find out, a mask to fit in with everyone else, one he wears very well.

But, when it’s just the two of you in his room playing video games or watching TV, he actually relaxes, gets quieter and much more reflective. The pastels and khakis and Hawaiian shirts stay hung up in his closet, both of you lounging in t-shirts and joggers more often than not.

He more or less tutors you in geochemistry, and between that and all the nerd shit in his room, you realize… Mike is kind of extremely smart. And, it’s kind of extremely hot.

“I still don’t understand why you hide it,” you tell him one afternoon as you watch him play Ocarina of Time.

He shrugs, green eyes wide and focused on the screen, gives you the same answer he did last semester when you’d asked a similar question: “People are more interested in other things.”

“So you adopted the obnoxious frat boy persona?”

“I guess. It makes the college experience a lot easier.”

You cock your head to the side, genuinely curious when you ask, “Doesn’t it wear you out? Seems like you’re just an introvert in hiding.”

Mike laughs, pauses the game, and looks at you. “It used to. Some days it still does. But, it’s easier than taking shit from the guys.”

Squinting at him, you mumble, “I will beat up anyone who gives you shit about being a nerd.”

It makes him laugh. Loudly. And, you see a certain curiosity glimmering in his eyes, unasked questions—probably something along the lines of when you started caring and getting protective over him.

You’re not. Not exactly. You just don’t like the idea of anyone giving him a hard time.

“No offense, babe, but I don’t know how much damage you could inflict on anyone. You’re, like, two feet tall.”

You straighten up, chest puffing up as you pull your fists up to your chin and rock back and forth like a Street Fighter character. “You wanna fuckin’ go, Zacharias? I’ll show you how much damage I can inflict.”

He grins in that boyish way that always makes you look away. It’s too cute and too charming and makes you feel too many things.

Mike hangs his long legs over the side of the bed and pulls you on top of him with no problem whatsoever. You’re eye level with him now, heart beating too fast as you hold his shoulders, eyes flicking to his lips.

“We can go if you want. We can do whatever you want.”

He has feelings for you. You know he does, can see it in his eyes, can feel it in the way he fucks you, and you really should cut things off, but… You don’t want to. He’s the most tolerable person you’ve met on campus, much less annoying than Hitch. You have things in common and joke around until you’re both rolling in laughter. And, of course, the sex is incredible.

It’s just casual, you keep telling yourself. Mike is smart enough not to push things. He knows better, knows you’ll just turn him down, and though it’s hard to admit, that wouldn’t just hurt him; it’d hurt you too.

In his lap now, you don’t encourage him to take things further, mostly because you’re still sore from the night before, and he understands that. Instead, you lock your arms around his neck and change the subject to something that’s still bothering you even after several weeks.

“Have you and Erwin made up yet?”

Mike makes a face, answers, “Not exactly.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“It means we’re talking a little more, but it’s always short conversations and the problem still hasn’t been addressed.”

You let out a little, “Ugh,” then state, “You guys are impossible.”

It really doesn’t make sense that he’s so upset about it, especially since you’ve gotten over it. It was a shitty thing for Erwin to do—walking in like that—but you don’t think it’s anything to end a friendship over.

And, with that thought in mind, you spend the rest of the afternoon devising a plan. It’s not in your nature to meddle, but it seems, in this case, you’re gonna have to.

Mike is in his fancy ecology class when you walk into the Pike house, nodding at everyone in the den as you step further inside. You learned a few months ago that it’s much safer to keep your shoes on, less jarring to step on a sticky floor the first years didn’t do a good job cleaning.

Nile is reclining sideways on the couch with Marie between his legs, an action movie playing on the ridiculously big TV mounted on the wall.

“Is Erwin here?” You ask.

Nile looks at you with a frown, one that’s completely warranted since you’ve literally never asked this before.

“Uh, yeah.” He points up at the ceiling. “In his room.”

“Cool, thanks.”

“You know which one it is?”

Squeezing one eye shut, you’re honest when you tell him, “I think so.”

The way Marie is quick to pipe up, “Second furthest to the left, right next to the bathroom,” is very amusing, especially when Nile clicks his tongue, clearly irritated.

You make your way upstairs, following Marie’s directions, then take a deep breath before knocking on Erwin’s door, clueless as to what his lock code might be.

It takes a few seconds, but the door opens, revealing a very tired-looking Erwin. His eyes widen a bit when he sees you, craning his neck back like he’s shocked that you’re standing outside of his room. That’s fair.

“Uh, hey?”

“Hey,” you greet shortly. “Can we talk for a sec?”

Erwin blinks a few times then steps to the side, murmuring, “Yeah, of course.”

His space is very different from Mike’s, more organized, framed pictures, bed completely made. Even his desk is clean, papers and books all stacked neatly on one side of his open laptop.

“Studying?” You question.

“Yeah. Would you like to sit down?” His voice is deep—not as deep as Mike’s—and always so proper, like he spent his childhood in country clubs (he did).

“Not really,” you answer without any hesitation.

Unsurprisingly, Erwin leans against his desk instead of taking a seat himself, arms on either side, fingers hanging off the edge of the polished wood. It makes the muscles in his forearms become more prominent, veins popping against his skin. You have to give it to him, it’s a good move.

“So, what’s going on?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you recall what you planned to say—cut to the chase, stay firm, don’t get caught up in any of his tricks.

“You need to make up with Mike.”

Erwin immediately snorts. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

“Half-assed apologies aren’t gonna work, dude. Actually sit down with him and hash things out.”

“Yeeeah,” he drawls. “That didn’t work very well the first time.”

“Maybe try again? You guys are, like, best friends.”

“Levi is my best friend,” Erwin corrects, “And, I’m pretty sure that you’re Mike’s at this point.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” he smirks.

You wave him off, getting back to your original point. “At the very least, you guys should make up just because you have to live in the same house.”

Erwin crosses his arms over his chest, blue eyes deviating upward as if he’s thinking hard. You doubt he is.

“So, you’re not mad about what happened?” He asks after a few seconds.

You're blunt when you respond, “It was a shitty thing to do. Wouldn’t advise trying it with anyone else, but honestly, I’m not super surprised you’d pull something like that.”

His facial expression turns to one of true offense, blond eyebrows furrowing enough for a little wrinkle to form between them. “Excuse me?”

You take a step toward him, almost jab a finger in his chest but resist. “No no no. You don’t get to be pissed. You’re the one who fucked up here. I’m just telling you the truth.”

Eyes narrowing, he pushes himself off the desk, standing to his full height to loom over you. It’s obviously an intimidation tactic, one he’s probably used before on many people, and it makes your blood boil.

In a futile attempt to make yourself look bigger, you straighten your spine and tilt your head to look up at him, lips pursed, eyes narrow. You remember what Mike said about you being too small to hurt anyone, but you can be scrappy. You’re not above slapping a face or kneeing someone in the balls.

Erwin peers down at you, jaw setting for a moment as he really studies you, then breaks into an infuriating smile.

“You’re cute, you know that?” He moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you swat his hand away.

“Jesus, what is wrong with you?”

This close to him, seeing the way he acts behind closed doors, you wonder how Mike ever even got close with him. They’re so incredibly different. For the last semester and a half, you've only known Erwin as Mike's somewhat obnoxious, spoiled friend. Now, it seems he's showing his true colors.

“Nothing’s wrong. In fact, I’m feeling pretty great right now.”

Oh, you wanna hit him. You wanna hit him so badly, but honestly, Erwin kind of seems like the type to call the fucking police if you did.

“You don’t have any reason whatsoever to be feeling good.”

He’s still grinning, eyes bright and wide as his pupils dilate.

Are you calling him a predator?

He sure looks like one now, a lion with his sights set on an antelope, and as you stare at him, it dawns on you that this was a bad idea.

“You know what? Nevermind,” you shake your head. “You don’t deserve to be Mike’s friend anyway.”

The laugh that pours from his lips is not at all humorous. His voice drops when he challenges, “You think so?”

You need to leave, need to get out of here before this argument goes any further, but as you make a move toward the closed door, he slides in front of you. You shouldn’t have walked so far into his room.

“Erwin,” you grit through your teeth. “Don’t do this.”

“Just tell me—because I need to know—” he breathes, still staring down at you with that unnerving gaze. “What does Mike have that you like so much?”

Both your hands flex by your sides. There are so many ways to answer this question, all of which will evoke a different response.

But being who you are, you speak before you think, spitting the first thing that comes to mind: "You want me to make you a list, Smith? 'Cause I sure fucking can."

He makes a little circle with his hand, a 'go on' motion, and prompts, "Please, enlighten me."

And, so you do.

"Warmth, sincerity, class, depth, understanding—"

"So, it isn't just about the sex," he cuts you off, sounding more sure than curious.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, tired of these god damn frat boys and their obsession with getting their dicks wet.

"I mean, it started out that way—not that it's any of your business."

"I can give you more, you know. Satisfy you better—"

"Please shut the fuck up," you beg, getting madder by the second. The confidence, the entitlement, is making you sick.

"You don't believe me?" He steps toward you again, and you back up.

"No, I don't." Because how could he? Whether it's stimulating conversation or sex, there's no way Erwin could compare.

And now you realize just how much you appreciate Mike.

Erwin is closing the distance between you, moving slowly but purposefully. "This is how it started with you and him, right? You made him chase you?"

"Get out of my way," you demand, trying to shoulder past him—

And, you should have seen it coming, should have been prepared for the way he grabs you, strong hand closing around your upper arm to pull you to his body. Thick fingers tangle in your hair to pull your head back, face tilted up, and all you can really do is shove at his chest with your free hand, growling in your throat as Erwin crushes his lips against yours.

Adrenaline courses through your body. You try to shake the hand on your head, try to jerk your arm from his grip, but he's too fucking strong, and it terrifies you.

Your voice is muffled as you plead, "Er—mmf—shtp—"

You lift your hand higher and manage to hit him just beside his eye with the side of your palm, and it makes him break the "kiss" (you refuse to actually call it that).

He breathes a heavy, "Just let me—"

"No." You push his chest again, and he lets go of your arm. Quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you tell him, "You're a shitty friend and a little fucked in the head, but you're not low enough to force yourself on someone," you pant, shaking with nerves and rage, "So don't."

Hopefully, you're not giving him too much credit. Despite the overflowing fury and fear, you still think there's a little hope for him. Not with you, of course, just in general.

He stares at you, expression changing from confusion to understanding to regret, and before you know it, he's scrubbing his hands down his face and muttering, "Fuck, I'm sorry. You're right I—I got carried away. I've been jealous of Mike and curious and—"

"Why?" You blurt because you do not get it. "Both of you are, like, top athletes and in a fraternity, could get literally anyone you wanted, so what is it? Is it because I'm a nobody? Because you're bored of the sorority girls? Am I the one chick on your list you haven't screwed?"

"I… I don't know. You just—"

"Is it because Mike has a toy he doesn't wanna share?"

"Maybe." Erwin is frowning again, like he's stumped. He doesn't even know what he's feeling. It's honestly a little pathetic.

"Well, pick someone else. I know you have Maddie wrapped around your finger, so take advantage of that or whatever. Just leave me out of it."

Ocean eyes are wide and troubled. He really does look remorseful, but that doesn't change what he just fucking did. God, you're disgusted. And a little hurt.

"Don't ever try that shit on me again—or anyone else—'cause I swear to God, I will break your fucking nose."

"Yeah, okay," he nods.

You go to walk past him again, voice loud and unforgiving when you tell him, "Move," and then you're out of his room, slamming the door, and getting as far from Pike house as possible.

That did not go the way you had planned it to, but you should have been ready for the worst case scenario. That's on you, you guess.

Because Erwin Smith may not be a predator by definition, but he's certainly something—something you want to stay away from.

"Why are you acting weird?" Mike's voice pulls you from your empty head, and you take your eyes off the loose string of your hoodie—his hoodie—and look up at him.

"What are you talking about? 'm not acting weird."

He moves from his place at the edge of his bed and crawls to prop himself up next to you on his pillows.

"Uh, yeah you are. Have been for the past week or so."

He isn't wrong. You've kept to yourself a little more since your "conversation" with Erwin. It had just been so uncomfortable and jarring, and you don't want to tell Mike because you know he'll just get pissed all over again which would be very annoying since he and Erwin finally made up. Just like you wanted them to.

Except now you know Erwin a little better, and you're not sure you want him having any more influence over Mike.

Rubbing your face, you shrug and easily lie, "I've just been tired."

And, of course, Mike is too smart for that.

"Tired? That's the go-to answer for anyone who actually feels shitty."

"I mean, yeah, but I'm actually tired in this case." It isn't a complete lie considering how fucking late he kept you up last night.

Mike hums. "Wanna take a nap before the party?"

The acid in your stomach churns. The party. The one you do not have any desire to go to. The one that will push you over the ledge of annoyance and into the realm of genuine discomfort. You don't want to go. You don't want to hang out. You don't want to see Erwin.

Sliding your legs under the covers, you lay down in Mike's bed, turning on your side so that your back is facing him. You've told him on numerous occasions that you don't have any interest in certain events, but he always talks you into going to them anyway. So, what'll be different this time? You're just gonna end up downstairs huddled in a corner refusing to drink as your eyes scan over everyone, ready to make a quick exit if you have to.

Mike settles in closer behind you, the heat of his chest pouring across your back, and you can feel the pillow dip when he rests his head on it. He waits for a while before letting his arm fall over your waist. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut, makes something crawl into your throat, trying to scratch its way out.

"I really don't wanna go tonight," you murmur.

You expect some form of protest, a convincing argument in the form of a well thought out fucking speech while he kisses down the back of your neck, but instead, a low rumble of, "Okay," spills from his mouth, and you hate how it makes you feel—how grateful you are for him.

He's getting to know you. Has gotten to know you after spending so much time together. He can read your ups and downs now, can tell when you're joking or serious, take the hint when you want him with a single look (that one might be the most irritating), but it just goes to show how perceptive he is, how much of himself he's been hiding while in college.

The shallow jock you thought you knew is no comparison for this.

"Spring break's coming up," he speaks into your hair, inhaling deeply and whispering to himself, "Citrus kills me," like you can't hear him.

You pretend not to because it's soft and personal and would probably make him adorably self-conscious, and you can't deal with Mike blushing.

"Yeah, it is. Couple more weeks."

"What're your plans?"

You shrug against him, trying not to get too wrapped up in the way his body feels over yours, longer legs tangling between yours, his draped hand nearly covering your entire stomach, his stubble scratching your neck and cheek.

When did you get this close? When did you decide it was okay to be this intimate? This is what couples do. This is comfort.

And, you didn't think you needed it, but fuck—

"Nothing, really. Go see Mom, I guess."

"Come stay with me," he says quickly. "Just for a few days."

You wriggle to turn on your back and frown up at him as a myriad of questions fill your mind.

Mike takes a deep breath, somehow reading every one of them.

"I know that sounds like a 'come meet my parents' thing, but I promise it's not. I just thought it'd be cool to hang out not at school and not at a party. Plus," he shows a broad grin. "You can meet Scout."

"Mm, tempting," you laugh. "I do like dogs."

"And, you'll love her! She's so sweet and so goofy and—"

"I'll think about it," you stop him.

Mike bites his lip, looking hopeful, but tries to play it off with a, "Okay, cool," then leans down to kiss you as if you've already said yes.

Honestly, you have, just not out loud. He had you at 'hanging out'.

Studying sucks. Midterms suck. Avoiding parties, however, does not suck. Mike still goes to most of them, kind of has to considering they're usually thrown at the PKA house, but sometimes he just shows his face then comes to your dorm. You try to convince him to stay, hang out with his friends, but he usually just shrugs and digs through your stash of movies until he finds something he wants to watch.

It's fine with you, makes passing geochem a lot fucking easier, but it also means little sleep and a perpetual soreness between your legs.

You just… Can't get enough of each other. And, you think that's how it's always been since that first party. Afterward, you had denied him in the courtyard and then broke as soon as he got into your room to get his stupid shirt. Denied him at the bar then broke as soon as he leaned over you at the pool table. Denied him at the after-game party and broke after… Seeing his room? Watching movies? Acting like friends for the first time? Whatever it is, you're always falling into bed together, some kind of unstoppable force against your obviously very movable object.

It's something you think about too much now, always somewhere in the back of your head. At this point, you should probably just be with him, don't know who you're kidding with that lie about focusing on school (your grades have never been better actually), but you're scared. That's really what's been hard to admit to yourself, not the fact that you're attracted to him or the fact that your irritation has bloomed into genuine fondness and admiration. It's that's you're fucking terrified. You can feel it in your bones.

Don't get too attached because people leave. All the time. People let you down. People disappoint.

You don't want Mike to disappoint you, so you won't give him the chance to.

Of course, all of that is easier said than done as you look over at him in the Wrangler, one huge hand pn the wheel as his other arm hangs out of the open window, catching the wind that batters against it like he's trying to push back. You hate it when he does that, too many horror stories of car crashes that end in traumatic amputations, but it's one of Mike's strange simple pleasures, makes him grin as if it's his head hanging out instead. At his core, Mike Zacharias is just a huge fucking puppy dog.

A dubstep song from too long ago is blasting through his speakers, the vibrations hitting you square in the chest as you bounce your leg and bob your head. It's beautiful outside, winter's bite melting away into sunny springtime days. Some of them still bring a chill to the air, but it doesn't matter since you basically live in one of Mike's hoodies, dark green with the school's lacrosse logo stamped in the middle. It's faded and worn out and far too big on you, but it's quite possibly the most comfortable article of clothing you've acquired.

The drive to his parents' house is a good three hours, but between the playlist he's made (stellar, not that you'd admit it), the road games you play, and the road head you give him ("Oh, Jesus Christ, this isn't safe—this isn't safe—fuck—") you make it there in one piece and in good spirits, though you have take a few drinks of the soda you got at the convenience store to wash the residue of cum out of your mouth before meeting his god damn family.

He grabs both your bags from the backseat, slinging them over his shoulders, then starts up the path to a… surprisingly small home. It isn't a shack by any means, but after what you saw of Erwin's stupid ranch house and some of the pictures and stories Nile and Gelgar have subjected you to, you just kind of figured all of them had ridiculous amounts of money.

Then again, you know Mike got a full ride to college with a sports scholarship, and he rarely talks about his family and their lifestyle aside from Scout and little tales from his childhood—trips to the zoo, the one time he rode a dirt bike and broke his collarbone, he and his dad rescuing an injured bunny from the park.

You should've known back then that you'd get in too deep.

The small garden that lines the house is well-kempt and full of blooming flowers, and the porch is home to a wire table and matching chairs with an unsavory gnome sitting on top.

"What in the world…"

Mike doesn't even glance to see what you're looking at, just opens the screen door and informs you, "That's Leonidas," so casually that it makes you snort and push him into his own house.

It opens up to a living room, long couch, recliner, coffee table and all. A TV sits right in the middle of a beige entertainment center, DVDs stacked on one side, blu-ray discs on the other. It smells clean—like the lemon wipes you use in your dorm—but even stronger than that is the smell of food.

"Must already be cooking," Mike muses, then calls out in a different fucking language that has you turning to him in confusion.

Before you can ask about it, a plump woman a couple inches taller than you comes rushing out of what you assume to be the kitchen. Her graying hair is tied into a loose bun, cheeks rosy from the heat, and she's still in her apron and a single oven mitt.

"Miche, γλυκό μου αγόρι!"

She stops in front of him and reaches up to grab his face, peppering it with little kisses and babbling words you do not understand in the slightest.

Mike is laughing, speaking to her in the same fashion, possibly answering questions or defending himself judging by the way he holds his hands up. You think you have an inkling about why when his mother turns to you, puts her hands on your shoulders to look at you, then pulls you into a tight hug.

You squeeze her right back, rocking to and fro as she does, then look up at Mike from the corner of your eyes in a panic.

What do you do, what is happening, what hasn't he told you?

It’s about this time that a large dog runs into the room and actually jumps into Mike’s arms. He grunts as he hoists Scout up, nuzzling into her beautiful coat as she tries to lick his face.

"Mamá, let her get settled first," Mike laughs from where he’s getting attacked. His mother lets go of you, but it’s only for Mike to set the dog back down, and Scout takes the opportunity to sniff and paw at you. “Be nice,” he warns her, pulling you in front of him and pushing you toward the hallway.

That need to snoop around is ever present as you enter his room, but the much more pressing issue is, "You could've prepared me, ya' know. Given me a little heads up that you're…"

"Greek?" He snorts, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. "My last name is Zacharias. That's a pretty good indicator."

"I—..." You pause, pout, then mumble, "I'm not a genealogy expert."

"Obviously not."

He dumps the bags on his bed, a queen size, thank god, because he had told you last week they didn't have a guest room (and had seemed pretty happy about it at the time).

"I'll get mom and dad to speak in English for the next few days."

"I mean," you shake your head. "It's their house. I don't wanna intrude on that. Let 'em do what they're most comfortable with."

He steps over to you, makes his classic move of staring down at you and smoothing his hand over your hair to make you tilt your head up. "That's sweet, but I know they're dying to talk with you, so actually being able to understand what they’re saying is kinda necessary."

Humming, you stand on your tip-toes just as he begins to stoop lower. Before you can meet in a kiss, though, you smirk, "And, just why do they wanna get to know me, Miche? Is that a secret Greek name too?”

He licks his lips, voice husky when he replies, "I've mentioned you a few times--”

“Uh huh,” you smirk, too close for him to actually see.

“And no, I think it’s Hebrew or something.”

You snicker before your mouths meet, breaths grow heavy, and the only time you break apart is so that you can look him in his light eyes and tell him, "By the way, the whole speaking a different language thing you can do?" He grunts, encouraging you to continue. "Very hot."

You feel him smile against you, a self-satisfied, "Yeah?" making you burn against him.

"Yeah."

It's hard to leave the room, but you both know you have to, hoping neither of you look too kiss-swollen when you walk back into the living room, and when Mike's mom is no longer there, he brings you to the kitchen instead.

"Smells good," he tells her, leaning over the stove and taking a whiff of the prepared dish that’s been set on top--stuffed tomatoes and peppers that make your mouth water.

She says something, and Mike lets her finish before asking, "Can we speak in English while she's here? It's kinda hard to add to a conversation when you, like, don't know what's being said."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She immediately gushes, turning to you with a worried look. Her accent is thick and charming, but she doesn't ever stutter, clearly fluent, just more comfortable in her apparently native language. "I just get so caught up when my Miche comes home, I—"

And, she's hugging you again.

"I'm Maia! Christopher—Miche's father—should be home soon."

You rub Maia's back until she lets go and turns back to the stove, but even as she does, she's asking you, "How is school? What are you studying? Miche's told me very few things."

He shouldn't have told you anything at all, you want to say.

"Um, it's good. I'm an earth sciences major, geology specifically, so Mike—uh—Miche's been helping me study a lot."

He leans down to speak so only you can hear, "Not necessary to call me that. She's gonna know who you're talking about when you say Mike."

Not that you'll tell him, but you kind of like the way 'Miche' feels, the way it rolls from your lips to the back of your mouth, and for just one second, you think about how you'd like to moan it in his ear.

"So, uh," you shake your head in an attempt to get it back on straight. "Yeah, it's going good, I think."

"It is nice that you study together," Maia hums, slicing into the dish to portion it out. "Miche probably enjoys the break from his fraternity life."

Mike makes an unsure noise, but you grin and lean on the counter, eyes shining as you look at the middle-aged woman, "You know, speaking of that, I need to know what he was like before the whole frat thing 'cause—"

"Uhh, we don't need to talk about that," Mike quickly cuts you off.

Maia, however, catches your eye and winks, a silent promise that she'll fill you in later.

Mike sees it, whines a dramatic, "Mamá, please."

You laugh, glancing over at him with a devious smile that makes him roll his eyes and grumble something.

The creak of a door opening followed by the sound of a screen slamming back against the frame signals the arrival of Mike's father. It takes him a couple minutes to join everyone in the kitchen, probably taking the time to get more comfortable after what you assume to be a long day.

When he does walk in, once styled hair fallen out of place, top two buttons of his shirt undone, you see exactly where Mike gets most of his looks. He may have gotten his fucking mane from his mother, but he definitely got his height and his eyes from his father.

"Oh!" He stops short when he sees you, looks at his wife, then at you, then at Mike. "Is this the girl?"

"Dad!"

Both of his parents snicker as he turns to you, pleading more than telling, "Just ignore them, they don't know what they're talking about."

You don't pay him any mind, join in on the fun when you lift an eyebrow and tease, "Am I, Mike? Am I the girl?"

"Oh my god, this is gonna be a nightmare," he groans, the tips of his ears growing red. Still, he tries to put on a stern face as he points at his parents, speaks in beautiful, rolling words that are beyond you, then turns his flashing gaze to you and commands, "And you, don't encourage them."

"Mm, no promises." You stick the tip of your tongue between your teeth and wink at his mom the way she had at you earlier.

All of you sit at an actual table for dinner, something you haven't done in at least a decade, as you talk and laugh between bites of food. Scout is laying underneath, waiting for someone to drop a piece of food, and every once in a while, you feel her wet nose nudge against your calf.

Maia and Chris are very kind and very funny, and it isn't just because they pick on their son all the time. Chris talks about his day in the office, complaining about coworkers the same way Mike complains about his brothers—"I just don't understand why you would eat sardines in the break room! Someone explain it to me!" Maia tells everyone about the three hour phone call with her mother—"My god that woman can talk. Every time we said goodbye, she would just start on something new!"

"Explains where you get it from," Chris says with a chuckle.

Maia scoffs then stabs a piece of his food with her fork, eating it with purpose as her husband watches.

You lean over to Mike and murmur, "They're cute. I like 'em."

He grunts. "That makes one of us."

Sucking your teeth, you mimic his mother's actions and dig your fork into the meat of his pepper, stealing a bite and scraping your teeth over the utensil in a way you know drives him crazy.

You immediately regret it when you realize how big the piece is, filling your mouth so that it's hard to chew, and you grab a napkin to cover yourself while Mike snorts and smugly says, "Yeah, bet you feel real smart right now. How does thievery taste?"

Shoving his arm, you manage to swallow down enough of the food to talk and tell him, "Tastes delicious."

When you look back across the table, you find Maia and Chris staring at you and Mike with shining eyes and matching grins.

You get along well with Mike's parents. A little too well in his opinion. There are a couple mornings you wake up earlier than he does and share coffee with his mother. He'll walk in to hear her sharing terrible stories about how, "He was such a sensitive little boy," and, "I miss the days he and his friends would spend afternoons here playing their little games."

She even breaks out the photo albums one evening after dinner, leaving Mike mortified as you laugh and 'aww' at the pictures of past birthdays, Boy Scout outings, and the horrors of middle and high school.

"Look how cute you are with braces!"

"Please stop."

"All dressed up for Easter, oh my god, are those bunny ears?"

"Mom made me."

"You were so skinny. What happened?"

"Are you calling me fat?"

"No, I'm calling you buff. Dummy."

Less embarrassing are the long walks the two of you take with Scout (who also loves you, of course). She stays close to your hip as you wander around the park, only leaving your side when you throw her favorite ball. At the house, she noses at you until you shift to let her lay either at your feet or on the couch with her big head in your lap.

It's the cutest fucking thing Mike has ever seen, and he hates it because he can't do anything about it. He can't tell you how much he likes seeing you walk around in his house. He can't tell you how much joy it brings him to hear your laugh ring out alongside his parents'. He can't tell you how much he loves seeing you slide into his old bed in nothing but one of his shirts, making yourself comfortable against his chest and weaving your legs between his.

He can't tell you, but he can do his best to show you.

Late at night when his parents are asleep, when the buzzing TV is the only thing lighting the room, Mike moves inside of you with deep, slow thrusts. He hikes your legs up to lock around his waist or pulls you up against himself if he's taking you from behind. No matter the position, it leaves you clawing at him, breathing heavily, jaw dropping open in a silent scream.

You feel so good, so tight around him even after he gets you ready for his cock. Your silken walls squeeze and milk him, pulling every drop of cum from him to soak into you. Fuck, he's so glad you're letting him do that now, fill you up until you can't take any more, until white is dribbling from your messy pussy. The way you look at him all fucked out is intoxicating, eyes droopy, smile lazy, body twitching with aftershocks as he sucks on your neck and kisses down your shoulders.

You have to know. You have to. Mike knows his feelings are written all over his face when he looks at you, may as well be carved into his skin. The words are on the tip of his tongue every night, but he muffles them with kisses, with burying his face between your legs, with sinking his teeth into your soft flesh.

He can't say it because saying it makes it real. Saying it will make it hurt more.

So Mike keeps his mouth shut, watches you every day as you converse with his parents and play with Scout. You poke around his bedroom in your usual nosy fashion, finding the rest of his Magic cards, old D&D books and privacy screens. The dusty record player he'd inherited from his grandfather interests you above all else, vinyls stacked around it, some old, some new, and as you flip through them now, cross-legged on the floor and swimming in his hoodie, you tell him the little things you talked about with his mom earlier in the day.

"She showed me your baby teeth," you say with a snort. "Why do parents keep those? My mom did too."

"Black Magic, obviously," Mike says seriously, but when you glance up at him, he chuckles. "I don't know, babe. It's fuckin' weird, though."

You grin and look back down at The Alan Parsons Project vinyl in your lap. You're quiet for a moment, but when you do speak up, it's in a quiet voice. "I'm pretty sure they think I'm your girlfriend."

Mike cringes on the bed, shutting his eyes and sighing. "Yeah, that's probably 'cause I told them you were."

"What?" You turn your whole body to face him, eyes wide and incredulous.

Sitting up, Mike holds his hands out and questions, "What was I supposed to tell them? Hey, mom and dad, I'm bringing home this girl I fuck at school all the time."

"We don't just fuck," you scoff. "You could've said friend or… Study buddy."

"Study buddies with benefits," he lets out a humorless laugh. "How many of those study sessions end with your mouth around my cock?"

"That's beside the point." You stand up and walk over to the bed, hands on your hips as you glare at him in an unconvincing manner. You're not actually upset, Mike realizes. A little annoyed maybe but more surprised than anything. "The point is they expect us to do couple-y things."

"We do do couple-y things." Mike reminds you, rolling his eyes when you snicker and murmur 'ha, do do'. "Oh my god, you're a dork."

"So are you. And, a dumb one. What happens when they find out we're not actually together? Are we gonna have to stage a break up somewhere down the line?"

"Stop worrying about it," Mike tries, reaching out for one of your arms to pull you on top of him. You must be very used to straddling him at this point. It seems like you're in his lap more often than you're not these days, even if the two of you are just talking. "Just chill and fake it for a little while longer."

You pout, glancing to the wall for a second before you mutter, "Might be tough. I've never had to fake anything for you before."

Mike groans and traces his fingers up your sides, stopping at your shoulders and using them to guide you closer to him. With your face only millimeters from his, he barely even has to whisper when he presses, "Fake it just this once."

You nod, lips brushing his, and from there you both devolve into sloppy kisses and desperate hands. As always.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader #mels prima vista

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yikesharringrove · 3 years ago

Text

Egg the Cat

Chapter 2

Read on Ao3

Nancy flinched as an engine revved, a sleek blue muscle car pulling into the lot.

Steve let himself focus on it. It was better than dwelling on his fucking essay, his impending shitty night spent with Barb’s parents, like he didn’t feel horrible enough about that whole situation.

He watched the car pull into a space at the front of the lot.

California plates.

“Who’s that?” Steve could picture Nancy wrinkling her nose as she said it, too focused on Billy getting out of his car to turn and see it for real.

He narrowed his eyes at a young redhead getting out of the passenger side.

Billy hadn’t said anything about a sibling.

“That’s Billy. I met him last night.” He finally looked back at Nancy as Billy set off towards the school. “He found Egg downtown.”

Nancy’s eyebrows flew nearly to her hairline.

“Steve, I’m sorry, I forgot. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, Billy got her safe and sound. Still don’t know how she got out, though. Let alone made it all the way downtown.” He locked his car as they headed towards the high school, the warning bell sounding through the parking lot.

He reached for Nancy’s hand, his heart soaring when she let him take it.

Sometimes she said his hands were too clammy.

He walked her to her first class, kissing her softly by the door.

Billy glared at the tiny brunette sitting in front of him.

Steve hadn’t said anything about having a fucking girlfriend last night.

And really, Billy should’ve known. He’s a hot guy, living in a town of not a lot of hot guys. It makes sense some girl would snap him up.

It just felt like a slap in the face.

It’s not like Billy thought he actually had a chance with Steve, but now all of his daydreams, any of his dirty thoughts featuring one Steve Harrington were gonna be tainted, by this prissy fucking bitch.

Billy just spent all of his AP biology lecture boring holes into the back of her head.

He didn’t really give a fuck if people noticed, thought it was weird. He was too busy channeling all of his anger, all of his hatred onto this skinny little priss.

He hoped she could feel it, like maybe his anger gaze gave off palpable heat or something.

Based on how many times she stuck her hand up to answer every question posed by the teacher, no, she couldn’t feel the heat of Billy’s rage.

He couldn’t get out of there fast enough, only to find they shared all three of their morning classes.

Because fuck Billy.

And then he had to watch, had to stand there like a stupid gay fucking idiot as Steve lifted nancy off her feet, and made out with her against her locker.

He stomped past, hoping to go unnoticed by-

“Billy!”

Fuck.

He stopped dead in his tracks, taking a few deep breaths before turning, plastering his best I am so charming and I don’t hate your girlfriend for no reason smile on his face.

Steve was all sunshiney again today. Billy mentally kicked the little voice in his head saying that sunshine is for you.

“Hey, man! How’s your first day going?” Steve had his girl tucked under his arm. She looked like a frail little bird. Billy hoped Steve’s cat ate her for breakfast one day soon.

“Well, you got mad at me last night when I called this place a shithole, so I’m just going to heavily imply it.” Steve laughed, his head tipping back a little, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Billy tried to think about his dad, tied to think about the shelf bruises on his back.

And then Steve was pressing a sheet of paper into his hand, and their fingers fucking brushed and Billy tried, tried to think of a broken arm and cops at his house, and not holding fucking hands with Steve Harrington.

He studied the paper, just to look somewhere that wasn’t Steve’s eyes. A lighter shade of brown in the fluorescent lights, a shade bordering on green.

Come and get sheetfaced.

“Hawkins parties will probably be lame compared to what you’re familiar with, but I mean, it should be fun.” Billy just nodded, eyes trained on the little ghost. “We’ll be there. Nancy and I.” Nancy. That’s a stupid fucking name. “Y’know, if you aren’t too cool for us by then.”

Steve was smirking at him a little when Billy finally looked up.

“I’m already cooler than you, Harrington.” Fuck. It sounded way meaner than Billy had wanted, sounded actually rude, not like a little ribbing. Not like a little tongue-in-cheek reference to last night. Cold shit.

But then Steve tossed his head back, and he laughed, a full belly laugh, and he clapped Billy on the shoulder, and Billy has never felt gayer in his entire life.

“Harsh, man. Real harsh. Wait ‘til I tell Egg you said that, she’ll never want to see you again .” And Steve was still smiling at him, and he had maybe, alluded to Billy seeing his cat again, which meant seeing Steve outside of school, and Nancy was looking down the hall, like this conversation was below her pay grade, and Billy wanted.

“See, that’s why I’m cooler than you. I don’t go telling my cat all my lame drama.”

“That’s because you don’t have a cat,” Steve said playfully, his face falling a bit. “Wait, you don’t have a cat, do you?” Billy shrugged.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And Steve smiled at him, and the bell rang, and Nancy rolled her eyes before pressing herself out from underneath Steve’s arm, and Steve’s big sweet eyes snapped onto her.

“I’ve got to get to Calculus.” Billy’s heart sank. They shared four classes so far.

Steve just leaned down to kiss her, one hand cradling the side of her face. Billy looked away.

“I love you.” He had to suppress a snort as Nancy said it back, her voice all pitchy and off.

But Steve reached out to clap Billy on the shoulder again.

“I better see you tonight!” And he was off down the hall, and Billy, once again, made a point not to look at his ass.

“You gotta be home by nine-thirty, okay, Shitbird?” Max rolled her eyes again.

“Billy, I know what time I need to be home by.”

“Just making sure, because you know if you don’t make curfew, I’m somehow gonna be blamed for it.” Billy had only gotten out of playing babysitter this evening when Max had nearly thrown a full tantrum at the idea of trick-or-treating with adult supervision while she’s trying to make friends.

She just looked at him sharply, her lips pursing a bit.

“I’ll be home.” Her voice had an edge to it. Billy didn’t really know how to take it.

“Be safe.” She didn’t acknowledge him, just got out of the car, a little Michael Myers heading into the swarm of children.

He pulled down the road, the party address only a few blocks from where Max was meeting her friends.

He slammed a beer the minute he entered the party, didn’t want to be sober for a second of this shitfest.

Steve had been right. This party didn’t hold a fuckin’ candle to what he frequented down in Cali.

He tried to make the best of it, beat the keg stand record, found some stupid jocks that were more than happy to parade around him all night.

He just had to get to that sweet spot, drunk enough he would actually get hard with a girl, but not too drunk he’d get whiskey dick. He didn’t need that to be his reputation in this shitty town.

He was being pulled through the crowd by some freckly fucker dressed as the guy from Karate Kid. Max had made him take her to that movie six times in the theaters. Billy had slept through it every time.

He was feeling pretty okay, the beer settling into his system, giving him a warm buzz as he studied the party. Maybe he could find some punk kids, score some weed or-

Steve Harrington.

The karate guy had shoved him in front of Steve, had said, guess who’s the new Keg King, Harrington?

Steve was glaring at the guy, drawn up to his full height, shoulders squared, all of that melting as he turned to Billy, smiling warmly at him.

Fucking sunshine.

“Nice job, Dude!” And Steve took Billy’s hand, and he pulled him into a one-armed fucking hug.

Billy was absolutely stunned. Maybe a little bit hard as he pat his hand against Steve’s back. Felt his muscles moving under his jacket.

But then Steve pulled back, his eyes trailing after his fucking girlfriend, and he was gone, followed her into the kitchen.

Billy wanted to tear out his fucking hair.

He went the opposite way as Steve, pushing through the sweaty crowd.

He really didn’t need to see Steve coddling his girl.

He shoved his way into the backyard, vaulting the low fence on the porch, making his way out of the yellowed light spilling out of the house.

He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it quickly.

Fucking idiot. You knew you couldn’t have any fucking boy in this goddamn town.

But Billy had come into this town really not expecting any boy to actually catch his eye.

Not like Steve has.

Steve with his stupid big eyes, and his stupid big hair, and his stupid cat named fucking Egg. Who names a cat Egg? That’s a dumb fucking name.

Billy lit his next cigarette with the dying remains of the last one.

He thought about calling it quits, heading home early.

But it wasn’t even ten yet, and really, he needed to fool around with a chick tonight. He needed to establish himself as a lady killer.

Sleep with one girl, and the rumors would build enough that he probably wouldn’t have to fuck any others, just not deny it when any girl claims they had a wild night of passion.

It was safer that way. Gave him some cushion.

Then, if any of the lies began to unravel, he’ll just fuck another one, and let the rumor mill do its trick.

Besides, he can find a brunette, make her take it from behind. If he’s lucky, the party’ll be loud enough he can tune out her moans, picture someone else, picture him -

The backdoor slammed against the wall as someone stomped outside.

Billy just took another deep drag, hoped he wouldn’t be noticed.

But, of course-

Steve didn’t even ask, just took the cigarette out of Billy’s mouth, taking a long fucking drag.

He rolled his shoulders, let his head fall back, blowing the smoke out towards the sky.

“Y’know, I fucking quit smoking because of her. Not like I did it a lot, but still .” Billy just stayed quiet. He really didn’t want to talk about Steve’s fucking girlfriend. “Because I actually cared .” Oh, now wait a minute.

“What happened?”

Steve shot him a dark look.

“You weren’t inside?”

Billy just gestured to the cigarette Steve was now sucking on once again. Billy kept his focus on Steve’s left earlobe. Didn’t care to get a semi just from looking at his lips.

“Lovers’ quarrel?”

“Does repeatedly being called bullshit and having her tell you she doesn’t love you count as a lovers’ quarrel?”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Steve tossed the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. Billy didn’t know what to say.

What he wanted to say was you ever sucked dick? And then maybe take Steve’s mind off of everything by fucking his face, but that felt a little forward, felt a little gay.

“ Fuck .”

Oh, shit.

Steve was fucking, Steve was gonna cry. Standing outside with Billy, barely lit by the light filtering through the small frosted bathroom window.

“ Next week .” Steve’s voice cracked. “We would’ve been together one year next week. And she was pretending .” Steve slumped back against the wall, his face buried in both his hands. “I, I changed everything for her. I stopped seeing my friends because she didn’t like them, I stopped smoking because she said it was gross, I changed who I am as a fucking person. And you know, granted, I am a better person. But I’m different, because of her, and she just, she threw all of it away.”

He sniffed loudly, his shoulders stuttering.

Billy felt like his guts were on fucking fire.

“Fuck her. Fuck her. You are a good guy. And if she’s too much of a bitch to see that, she doesn’t deserve you.” Steve didn’t acknowledge him for a while. Billy just let it be, lit another cigarette.

“I think I’m gonna go home. I wanna see my cat.” Steve sounded like a little kid. Like a heartbroken little kid.

“You good to drive?” And Steve finally pulled his head out of his hands.

His big eyes were shining, his cheeks wet, glistening in the low light.

“I don’t drink anymore. Because she said I’m an asshole when I’m drunk.”

Billy weighed his words carefully.

“I’ve got a bottle of tequila in my car if you wanna stick it to her.” Steve gave him a watery smile.

“You wanna follow me to my place?”

#clearly i'm very busy at work #yikes writes #egg the cat #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove

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karlajoyner · 4 years ago

Text

Tease (Charlie Gillespie x Reader)

A/n: Hey guys so this was requested. I hope you guys enjoy it! And send in your own request!

Requested by: @universefangirl (Tumblr)

Warnings: Smut (18+)

————

I sighed typing away frustratedly at my computer attempting to get my work done for the night. Taking another sip of my wine I looked over to the couch to see my boyfriend scrolling through his phone.

"You know? It must be nice being a paid actor during a pandemic" I spoke catching his attention. A grin began to form on his face as he stood up making his way over to me in the kitchen.

"It has its perks. Can't say the same about you baby" He teased rubbing my shoulders. I rolled my eyes continuing to type away.

"You know you could take a break" He whispered getting near my ear.

"I can't. If I don't get this is by tonight I'm so fired"

"Fine. I'm just gonna go live for a bit. And relax afterwards. I'm pretty busy tomorrow"

"Yes Charles getting to sleep in and doing a live interview late afternoon sounds so exhausting. Meanwhile I have a term paper for English due and on top of that I have to do two more sets of these for work" I spoke holding up my papers.

"For your information I'm going on a hike tomorrow morning. Then I'm going live" He said another deep breath leaving my mouth.

"Aww baby. It's okay"

"Is it though?" I asked frustrated at his lack of sympathy. I love him and all but he seems to forget that his totally normal girlfriend works a 9 to 5 and still goes to college. And as much as I appreciate the times he said he could put in a good word for me with Kenny. I refused to be exposed in the spotlight more than I already was for being his girlfriend.

"I'm sure you can do it. You always do"

"Your right. I'm amazing. I don't know what you'd do without me" I joked trying to lighten up my own mood more than his.

"I don't either. I'd miss you too much" He said placing kisses just below my ear.

"Hmm really? Care to find out Gillespie?" I asked biting my lip. This was my opportunity to get him back where it hurt.

"What do you mean?" I smirked continuing to do my work. Without another word leaving my mouth.

“Baby. What do you mean?" He asked again standing up.

I stayed quiet as he repeated the question a few more times finishing up what I was doing. I had to get through all my stuff for school and work tonight if I wanted tomorrow to go as planned.

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping. Glancing over at the clock I smiled. On schedule. I moved over to the empty spot beside me with a grin. Charlie was really in for it today.

I quickly got up making the bed when my phone suddenly dinged. I smiled seeing it was a good miring text from Charlie himself.

“Good morning my love. Just finished my hike. On my way home with coffee.

“I'll see you in a bit baby" I read aloud. I smiled at the cute detail before continuing on with my plan.

Changing into yoga pants and a sports bra I made my way to the living room setting up for a morning workout. Something I rarely got to do since my second term started and I became ambushed with work. It'd been nearly half an hour before I heard the front door open. The smell of coffee carrying itself through the small apartment.

"Baby your awake" He stated taking in my appearance. No doubt the sweat droplets on my body making me look shiny as hell.

"Yeah. I finished all my work last night so I figured I'd have a day to myself. I did a morning work out and I'm gonna do more things I haven't done in a while" I smiled innocently.

"Mmm am I one of those things by any chance?" He smirked pulling me close. Placing a kiss to my sweaty forehead.

"You wish. Actually I invited y/b/n over. We were thinking of painting to clear our minds"

"Oh but you can't paint looking like this. So sweaty. So wet" He whispered rubbing circles on my hips.

"Yeah I'll probably hop in the shower in a bit" I grinned before pulling away to go finish my workout.

“You know I need to shower too. What if we hop in together? To save water"

"Um I don't know. Can you keep your hands to yourself Gillespie?" I asked bending down in front of him to stretch.

"I can't answer that" He growled coming to stand behind me. As soon I felt his hands on my waist I stood up turning around to face him.

"Tsk Tsk Tsk" I whispered pulling back.

“What baby? Why won't you let me touch you?" He whined.

"Because it's my only free day and I'm going to enjoy it babe" I said placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips before walking away.

"Where are you going?" He called.

"To shower"

"Can I join?"

"If you can keep your hands away" I heard him groan as I shut the bathroom door behind me. Giggling to myself I entered the shower washing myself down.

Purposely forgetting to bring in an outfit. Knowing Charlie didn't enter for a reason I called out for him after I was clean.

"Charlie!" I shouted waiting for him to come in.

"Yes baby?"

"Can you bring me some clothes please?”I asked peeking my head out the curtain.

"Can I touch you?" He asked.

"Uh how about no"

"Then no" He said hoping that would get a reaction out of me. It didn't.

"Fine. If you insist" I spoke shutting the water off. Within a matter of seconds I exited the shower. Feeling his eyes piercing through me.

"Close your mouth. Your gonna catch flies" I said wrapping my towel around my body.

"Mm baby you don't know what your doing to me" He moaned out.

"I don't? Or do I?" I asked opening the door further so I could slip past him. Heading to the bedroom I smiled to myself knowing it was working.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Rushing over I peeked through the hole to see y/b/n standing there. Thankful both of our COVID tests came out negative I smiled welcoming her inside.

"Hey y/n/n"

"Y/b/n!" I shouted happy to see her after so long.

"So how's he doing?" She asked knowing all about my plan.

"Not good. I love him I really do but paybacks a bitch. I can't wait til his interview" I smirked walking her to my room.

I was quick to change into a cute matching set with only one of his band shirts layering on top.

"Wow. He's gonna be drooling"

"That's the plan. Thanks for doing this again"

"Its no problem. What are best friends for? Just promise me you'll give me every detail tomorrow. You know after he breaks"

"I promise" I said as we both giggled exiting the room. We made our way towards the living room pulling out the supplies she had brought over for our eventful day.

Y/b/n and I enjoyed each other's company for a while. Catching up on our new quarantine rituals. It wasn't long before Charlie came out of the restroom completely shirtless with only a towel wrapped around his waist. I bit my lip coming back to reality when y/b/n bumped my shoulder.

"Y/b/n. You're here" Charlie said running his fingers through his hair. He knew what he was doing.

"Yeah. I came to spend time with my best friend. Did you see her today by the way?" Y/b/n said taking my hand and playfully spinning me around. I chuckled at her antics realizing she'd done it on purpose to give him a full view of what I was wearing. If something drove Charlie Gillespie crazy. It was me wearing his band tees.

"I didn't. Thank you for that" Charlie spoke sending daggers through me.

"I hope you don't mind. I barrowed your shirt to paint. I can change if you wa-"

"No! No no baby keep it on. It looks amazing on you" He said a small smile playing at his lips.

"Thanks baby. When's your interview?"

"In like 20 minutes. I'm gonna go get ready"

"Sounds good. We'll be on the balcony painting. That good?"

"Of course baby" I smiled walking out on the hard cemented area placing down our stuff.

We specifically chatted those 20 minutes waiting for Charlie to come out of the bedroom.

"I'm going live" Charlie called through the screen door.

"Okay good luck" I called back. I saw him send me a wink before setting up his phone where the sun was hitting him perfectly.

"This is perfect" I whispered to y/b/n as we pulled out our paints.

"I know. I can't believe he set himself up right there" She whispered back. I giggled pulling out the pastel pink from the bag.

"Charlie!" I heard the interviewer shout. My boyfriend clearly estatic.

"Hey man what's up?"

"What's up with me? What's up with you? Your our first cast member of the day. So for starters we wanna know what's up with you?"

"Nothing much man. I mean I've been writing a lot recently"

"Oh yeah can we be expecting any music coming out soon away from the Julie and the Phantoms band?"

"Uh no. That's kind of where I'm at right now which is amazing you know? Working with such great cast and bandmates it's great"

"Sounds like it. So where do you get inspiration from during this whole new situation we're in? It must get boring"

"Uh it does at times when I'm alone. Which is rare since I've been quarantining with my girlfriend. She's amazing company and overall my biggest inspiration"

"Girlfriend? Are you guys at her place or yours?"

"Hers man. I didn't wanna disturb her peace but she insisted and it's just been amazing. I love her" He said my heart fluttering at his words. I looked over at y/b/n to see her smirking at me.

"What about your cast? Do they know her?"

"Oh yeah. Like my family, they absolutely love her which is great. You know their approval means a lot to me so it's nice that everyone gets along with her just fine"

"That's good to hear so moving back to your music" The interviewer continued changing subjects. With his wholesome answers I almost felt bad denying him my touch today. And almost felt bad what I'd be doing next.

Almost.

After about 15 minutes I began to laugh at nothing signalling it was go time. I glanced back see Charlie staring up at us. Clearly trying to focus on the interviewer speaking. Clearly.

"Stop!" I whisper shouted at my best friend who splattered pain on me. I repeated her actions earning a giggle from the girl.

Suddenly I felt a cold sensation hit me. She had thrown our water cup at me in return I splattered more paint towards her. Trying to stay as quiet as possible.

"No yeah thanks man. I had fun" I heard Charlie say. Signifying the interview was nearly over.

"No thank you. Charlie Gillespie everyone. Up next Owen Patrick Joyner!" The man shouted before the living room went silent.

"Done?" I asked turning back to look indoors. The door screen being the only thing between us and the indoors.

"Yeah. What happened?"

"I don't know y/b/n what did happened?" I asked the girl in a teasing voice. Moving back slowly letting the sun hit my body. The white shirt on my body becoming see through.

"Cover up baby"

"Y/b/n doesn't mind right babe?" I asked her.

"Nope. We've been best friends forever Charles. I know her inside out. I also know you should probably get changed out of that"

"Or I could just do this" I replied removing the shirt from my body altogether. I watched as Charlie's jaw dropped in surprised.

"Cute set. Victoria secret?"

"Pink" I answered walking into the living room.

"Huh. I would've never guessed. Oh shoot it's already 5:00 o'clock? I should get going. I have to get to Dylan's house. Do you need help cleaning up?"

"No!" Charlie shouted before I could answer.

"No. We've got it y/b/n. No worries"

"Thanks guys" She smiled pulling me into a hug then Charlie. I watched as he walked her towards the door.

Not knowing which one was rushing more him or her.

"Thanks for coming!" I called out grabbing some paper towels to wipe off the water still on my body.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Charlie asked once the door shut.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"You've been such a bad girl"

“Me?" I asked looking behind me jokingly knowing I was the only one here.

"Teasing me all damn day. Having y/b/n come over to be a cock block. And then pulling that little stunk during my interview"

"I don't know what your going on about Charles. I didn't know y/b/n name was gonna- Ahhh" I squealed feeling his strong arms wrap around me from behind lifting me up.

"Charlie!" I shouted as he carried me towards the bedroom.

"Yes?" He questioned when he put me down on the bed gently.

"Seriously?" I asked ask he removed his shirt.

"Seriously" He confirmed moving in to kiss me. It was gentle at first but that gentleness soon became hunger. From both ends we fought for dominance. Tired of fighting I gave in as he pushed me further up the bed.

"Charlie please" I pleaded beginning to palm him through his jeans. Feeling him get harder by the second.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Not yet" He whispered making me whine. He chuckled before speaking once more in a hushed tone.

"Now are you gonna tell daddy exactly why you teased him all day?" I groaned knowing there was no way of getting out of this one.

"Nope" I said hoping to move on.

"Mm I don't like the sound of that" He said removing his jeans. I moaned seeing his full body. He was too hot for his own good.

"Now are you gonna tell me or should I return the punishment" I internally groaned not in the mood to be teased.

"I-I just feel like you forget sometimes that I have so much on my plate. And maybe sometimes you could be insensitive about it" I muttered the last part hoping he wouldn't hear. But judging by his features softening he had heard every word.

"I make you feel that way?" he asked caressing my cheek.

"Not all the time but yeah sometimes"

"Baby. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" He mumbled placing soft kisses on my lips.

"I guess I just forget sometimes that you have so much to do. I just wanna spend all my time with you since that's all I have. I also guess offering to pay for things like your college doesn't help either when your girlfriends independent"

"And capable of doing everything on her own. Including paying for her school and home necessities. I mean it's a nice gesture baby but I'd just appreciate it if maybe you could take a step back and realize I'm only human. And not everyone wants to become an actor. I'm studying really hard to get to where I wanna be. And even if I'm working a boring desk job right now I won't be in the future"

"I know baby and I'm so proud of you for that you know that right?"

"Of course Charlie. And I know your my number one supporter just like I'm your number one fan" I said as he placed small kisses on my nose.

"Good....So you did all this today to get back at me?"

"Well yeah I wanted to have fun. But it's no fun when I too need to resist the urge to jump on you when you come out of the shower shirtless"

"Yeah about that I didn't know y/b/n was here or I wouldn't have walked out like that"

"I know baby. But now that we're alone so can we please just-" My words were cut off by his lips once more.

Giggling at his eagerness I began to palm him through his boxers once more.

"You don't know the things you do to me baby" He whispered pulling my bra down letting my breast fall free. I moaned as he began to suck on the left one and toying with the right one.

"God I missed these"

"Charlie please hurry up" I spoke. He didn't hesitate to remove my panties and his boxers immediately lining himself up at my entrance.

"You've been taking your birth control right?"

"Of course you idiot"

"Ooo aggressive much"

"Charlie if you don-" My words were cut off by a moan as he entered me. Not hesitating to start moving at a steady pace.

"Charlie" I moaned wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Faster"

"I'm so close baby"

"Me too" I panted as he sped up. His thrust becoming sloppier by the second.

"I'm gonna-" He groaned being the first to release. My climax coming not long after. I sighed as we rode our our highs together.

"I love you baby" Charlie said standing up and cleaning me off with a t-shirt of his.

"I love you too" I said as he finally came to lay next to me. Pulling the covers over us.

"You do know I really am proud of you right?"

"I don't know I think you need to prove it to me" I halfheartedly joked.

"If you insists" He whispered pulling me in for a sweet tender kiss.

Time slowing down as we spent the night tangled in each other's arms. Enjoying each other's company. Each other's love.

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skitteringjunbug · 3 years ago

Text

Sob Sunday

Tomorrow Is Never Guaranteed

The world had seen monsters come out of the underground. Most, if not all, had been terrified of them, with their sharp teeth and their dark queen; but slowly the monsters had come to blend in more and more with the world of humans.

A small town had been near to the mountains and many of the monsters never really wanted to leave further from there. Many humans left but there were quite a few that stayed and seemed more than fine with the blending. You were one of those humans that, sure, at first was terrified of the monsters but as you watched them every day from your small bookstore, you began to notice that they were kinda like pitbull dogs….bad rap, but honestly some of the sweetest pups around.

One of the monsters that made you think of a tightly-wound chihuahua was a skeleton named Sans. He and his brother Papyrus came into your shop from time to time. Papyrus, or Mutt as his brother seemed dead set on calling him, reminded you of an undersized Saint Barnard. Always quiet and seemed to follow his brother around by every command.

Oddly enough, they didn't talk much with you, but they seemed to come in every few days. 'Milord', Sans seems to prefer being called, always came right up and demanded a new book to read. Oddly, a lot about stars or tales of heroes beating out bad villains. You didn't mind, you had more than enough books to offer. There were even a few times Mutt came in alone, but he never talked much with you. A simple 'evening' or 'how's the reading?' One time he even caught you off guard with a,"ya look lost in da book," before he walked away.

There was a small secret you kept between you and your books...though as the weeks went by you felt your body slowly starting to get slower. Since birth you knew your heart was going to betray you. Long hours in the hospital with just books to keep you company. Your parents...well let's just say you weren't perfect when you were born and so they abandoned you to the state. Honestly, you preferred your parents in the books, at least most of the time you knew where they were.

Tonight...you just felt really tired. The book store had been given to you by one of the nice ladies that came to read at the girls orphanage and she became like a grandmother to you. When she passed away her son offered you the place, knowing how you used to hide in the stacks to read. It has been a home and a wonderful place for you. Enough traffic to make rent in your flat above the shop and even extra now that many monsters wanted to learn 'human' stories.

Tonight though, being the only employee meant closing early and while it bothered you, resting was the best thing you could do. Grabbing your water bottle and the old worn book you were reading, you headed out the door, locked up and as you turned suddenly met a very solidly built form.

“Woo dere darlin'."

The heavy scent of barbecue sauce and deep, almost burned wood hit you almost as hard as you thought the floor might have if you had fallen. No. Mutt had caught you, and damn if every romance novel you had ever read wasn't going through your head and made your blood jump right to your face. At first it was nice, then a throb in your chest reminded you why you were closing so early.

"Mr. Mutt."

"just mutt darlin, we talked bout dis already. nyhehe." That smirk and low laugh of his always sent shivers down your body.

"Mutt. I'm sorry but I'm closing early tonight. Did you need something?" Why did your voice sound so small, so quiet yet...a smile of happiness was on your face.

Mutt watched you from under his hood, those half drooped eyelights always seemed to know more than he would ever let on.

"Was...thinkin ‘bout trying a new series, but it can wait til tomorrow. "

That comment made you a little sad but with a gentle nod you felt your cheeks brighten again. "Um...pardon but….you can let me go now."

Mutt started a moment longer before letting his arm fall, kneeling down to grab your bottle and book, handing them to you. "Have a good evenin’ den."

"You too…" you smiled softly and turned to head to the front door that led you up to your flat.

Mutt watched you go with a pull at his soul. He wouldn't lie and say he didn't enjoy watching your ass as you walked away but that wasn't the first thing on his mind.

It had only been a few months since Milord had dragged him out and to this book stop he had heard about another monster. At first it was more annoying; these humans were boring creatures and held no interest in him. Well, he thought that until your voice welcomed him and his brother into your shop. He had thought he was deaf to so much till the soft and simple voice slipped into his skull. Fuck. This human. It was like his soul had been taken and twisted, ready to burst out. Milord had seen the change in him and smirked, declaring they would be avid book readers from then on.

Every time he finished a book, Mutt was up and ready to go back, sometimes even sneaking away to 'browse' on his own at the shop. Something though had been bothering him.

Over the weeks he had noted you losing your color. Moving slower. Yes you still held that soft warm voice from the first time, but now it seemed tired. Like it was harder to bring that smile. Did humans fall down like monsters? He had done some research but couldn't really find anything to support that hypothesis.

Tonight, though, was the worst he had ever seen you. This was the night he had been finally getting up the nerve to ask you out to coffee. Try and learn about you. But he had held you. Your form was soft but he felt he could break you if he held on too tight and your eyes were slightly sunken in. The makeup you wore to try and help hide it didn't do much. Well, he at least, saw through it. No. Tonight was not the night. Tomorrow morning. A small grin as he started to make plans as to what he would learn about you.

The next morning came, but Mutt stood at the bookstore door. The closed sign was still on it.

The hell? He lifted his phone up to check the time. It was half an hour past opening? Where were you? With a small huff, he shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket and turned to leave. Maybe you overslept? Yeah. He'd try again later.

"...."

Ok. It was 6 at night, and as Mutt walked back up the street he could see even from there that the bookstore was still closed. Didn't even look like it had been opened at all that day?!

"Sir?" A small college-aged man stood near Mutt as he had just been staring at the door sign.

Nn boring human. He tried to ignore him,

"Sir…" The man tried again and this time Mutt gave him a small glance. He flinched a little but spoke, "I'm...sorry but...the store's going to be closed...for a while."

What? Mutt turned now focusing down at the male with narrowed sockets, "explain." He growled slowly, unsure why.

"Um...Miss Y/N...passed away last night."

Mutt's sockets went wide as he moved without thinking. The sound of a form hitting the solid of the glass door was Mutt holding the small male up by his collar. "what?" Mutts' voice sounded like it would shatter ice in the dead of winter.

The poor little male looked like he was about to piss himself at this terrified monster holding him up. His voice slipped out shaking, "s-she….he-her heart. It gave...o-out in her sleep. T-they couldn’t revive her. I-I’m sorry….did you know miss Y/N well?"

Passed. Heart…..dead. Y/N was...dead.

No. He...he hadn't even had a chance to know you?

How? Why?

This was a sick and twisted game right? You...you couldn't be gone…

CRACK

Mutt dropped the male and stepped back gripping hard at his shirt over his chest and something warm was sliding down his face.

The fuck? He lifted his hand and touched it. Tears. He... he was crying.

The male fell and scrambled to stand, shaking a bit. "S-sir?" He reached out towards Mutt, and out of habit, he teleported, needing to get away fast

#undertale papyrus #undertale #swapfell #sob sunday

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fanficsandfluff · 4 years ago

Text

That Damned Laugh

To the anon who informed me of Rainbow Rowell's RACISM, i am writing this for my love of the characters, not the author's writing skill or fame. fuck her. i am still very much aware of what she wrote about and how she portrayed a character, but i cannot stop this inspiration when it comes to me. (wait to be clear to everyone reading this who hadn't seen the anons and my discussion, carry on wasnt the accused racist book. that was something else.)

If you, anon, end up seeing this and maybe don't like what I'm doing or whatnot, I'd love to hear from you again.

For those of you who maybe do practice Death of the Author, I hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Carry On

Characters: Simon Snow, Baz Pitch

Words: 1,905

~~~~~

BAZ

Simon Snow does not laugh, full stop.

(Well, to be fair I'm not a cackler much myself, but I do at least guffaw from time to time.)

Snow spent so much of his youth being weighed down by the 'Chosen One' moniker and being tormented by yours truly. Still, I know of that little list he kept of things he liked about Watford and all its experiences and people. It seemed he did take joy in most of it all. After all, I'm sure he had fun at Bunce's house on many an occasion.

But just being around him and in this way for a while now, you start to notice. He's seen me laugh. A few times, in fact. And hard. I'm not very proud of it; what that man can do to me and make me do. He doesn't like when I cover my hand over my smile. It's habit, though, I've reminded him countless times. The fangs and all. We're working on it.

But Simon may just smile or huff. I've giggled with him on our particularly soft nights or togethertimes.

All this to say... I've found a new hobby/goal/obsession recently.

Make Simon Snow laugh.

My cheekiness all these years has kept my humor to cruel, lowbrow tones. Maybe it makes me less funny, I don't know. But once or twice I'd nail a comeback or snarky one-liner (of course with a bit of flirt thrown in) and Snow will giggle and shake his head. But that's all I've achieved! A small, pandering, boring -- though still admirably adorable -- (Damn that Snow) giggle.

I've moved on to physical humor. I tried throwing myself dramatically over him when he's in bed, but he just seems to think it's all part of my Pitch flair.

Today I made a minor breakthrough.

I was in the kitchen trying to mix myself a smoothie. Bunce has been gushing about a smoothie craze for weeks now, so I finally figured why not. The damn lid wasn't on tight enough. Not-yet-smooth smoothie shot everywhere. There was a pause as it happened, my one hand on the Liquify button, my other resting nonchalantly atop the lid that didn't do any lidding, dammit.

Snow looked up at me from his seat by the kitchen counter, eyes drawn from his phone. A beat. He barked out a laugh. A much louder one than I think I'd ever heard him make.

"Put a sock in it, Snow," I growled, to keep with my facade, though inside I was jittery with glee. I wanted to hear more.

Snow convinced me to binge a new show. Crime Minds. Something like that. No, criminal. It's Criminal Minds.

You wouldn't expect this to be a series fit enough for a cuddle, but Snow and I are an unexpected couple. So it works.

A few dumb jokes are littered throughout the show, in between corpses and the same police station set being reorganized and shot from different angles every episode. One such joke was so inconspicuous and so nothing that I cannot even recall it now. But both Snow and I chuckled at it. Then Snow made an additional comment to it, making me laugh. And soon we were both giggling together like schoolboys, like we had early on when we were maybe still a bit bashful with each other.

He shoved his face into my ribs and snorted when I whispered the new inside joke much later on in the episode. I was also grinning like a madman, but the soft tickle his action gave me didn't exactly---

Oh.

In bed. Perfect. Lovers fool around all the time in bed. Not fool around as in sex--well, no, of course sex, but I mean they also play around-- never mind.

SIMON

Baz has been acting off lately. I can't quite put my finger on what it is. He seems distracted. More like how I act. I'm always thinking of something else, not able to stay focused on one thing for long. He's like that, but trying to act like he isn't.

We're doing something odd today. We're in bed at sunset. It's hardly sunset, as a matter of fact. The sun isn't seeping orange and red into the flat yet. Penelope took us out on a hike today. It tuckered the both of us out. Baz drained a buck when we got home.

I'm laying perpendicular to Baz (or is it parallel? composite? I could never remember mathematics), my legs resting over his stomach. He's reading and I'm playing a puzzle app on my phone.

BAZ

Now's the time, Baz. Just do it, don't think.

His socked feet are right in front of me. There's only been a handful of times we've sat in this position, half of them being my lower half resting on Simon's sturdier upper half. It's now or never.

I stare at his feet for too long, zoning out and forgetting that I was left staring at them, so it definitely looked like I have a fetish for feet. Which I don't. Focus, Basilton.

I take a finger-- no, two fingers. I scratch quickly at his heel. His leg jerks, foot being pulled back.

"What?" he asks me, as if I hadn't been plotting this for weeks. As if I just did it to get his attention.

"Something on the bottom of your sock, love."

Simon went right back to his head hanging upside down off the side of the bed, phone held out in front of his eyes.

Well, that proved one thing. He's ticklish.

He places his ankles right back where they originally were, crossed, atop my stomach. I try again, this time on his arch. I apply more pressure.

"Bahaz!" Simon shakes his foot out, "Is that how you start a foot massage?"

"Would you like a foot massage?"

"No. Not if it's going to tickle like that."

My cheeks heat up. Damn that buck. I'm rosier than I usually am.

"You're ticklish?" I ask, coolly. I barely stuttered.

"I wouldn't try it," he's back to looking at his phone again, "Penny did once and I nearly broke her elbow or something. She wouldn't stop talking about it for days."

"So you're very ticklish, then."

"Don't," this is the first time Snow seems to tense up.

There's a moment of quiet between us. A tense quiet. I lunge for his ankles and he shoots up into a sitting position. I scratch at his arch with four fingers now and he screams.

"Baz!" Simon whines a bit and he somehow yanks his legs free, not without losing one of his socks in my grip.

SIMON

He's grinning at me. No. Sneering.

I still hate when he does that. Reminds me of back when I wanted to throttle him. Sometimes I still do.

"Baz," I warn. His whole posture changes into a predator's, like he's the lion and I'm his fresh zebra. The new stance sends a shiver down my spine, with his shoulders hunched and all, ready to pounce.

"Baz... Baz, Baz, Baz..." I say over and over again because he's smiling at me, and then I start to smile, too, "Bahaz!" I try once more, but his name is all that's coming out, and now I'm giggling. I'm nervous. He did this to me.

BAZ

He's already giggling and I haven't even laid a hand on him.

"Yes, Snow?" I respond to his many calls of my name before I lurch forward, sending my whole body crashing on top of his and trying to pin him. I dig my fingers into his sides and don't stop for as long as I can maintain contact through his squirming.

"Gehehet off!" he's already crumbling, words being broken up with short laughs.

I slide my fingertips to his stomach and scratch there; Snow bucks. It gets even better when my cold fingers make contact with his warm skin beneath the shirt he's wearing. He yelps like I've never heard him yelp (like he's burnt his finger, but he's also 11-years-old again), and he dissolves into loud, beautiful laughter.

"St-Stohohop! Baz! I'm going to end you!"

"Isn't that how we always said it would end? Snuffing each other out? I'm perfectly happy that it's now going to end in my favor. You should've told me you were this easy to defeat earlier on, Snow."

"Shut up!" he cackles, legs kicking wildly behind me, as my body is thrown over his torso. Now I have both my hands buried into his sides, squeezing and squeezing. I get curious, my cheeks still burning with blood, and I lean down to his neck and... (no, I don't bite) I start nibbling. Snow loses it.

His whole face scrunches up, as I watch when I pull my head back. His smile is huge and bright. And the laughs bubble up from his stomach, releasing softer into the air like he sucked a little of the joy from it before releasing to keep for himself.

"Dohon't do that!"

"I thought you love my kisses."

"Not tha-HAAT!"

He shrieks again, hands too slow to stop my face from moving in. I nibble and even lick a few times, careful not to touch him with my fangs.

Did I mention that my hands are still tickling at his sides and ribs while I'm nibbling? Oh yes, I've waited so long for this sound. I wasn't going to make it come out lightly.

I blow a raspberry and that's when Snow's laughter catches and turns all hiccuppy. The noises are infecting me, starting to make me giggle. I shift, and my face now descends towards his stomach, which is bared after I rucked the shirt up.

SIMON

"TYRANNUS BASILTON G-GRIMM FUCKING PITCH-- OR WHATEVER YOUR LONG STUPID ARSEHOLE NAME IS--"

He's laughing at me. I keep laughing even without him tickling me.

"I swehehear I'm going to fucking kill you and your whole family if you do that dohown thehere--" I'm hiccuping. Crowley, how embarrassing.

BAZ

He's got me. I can hardly breathe from laughter. I keel over into him or he into me, but soon we're a laughing pile together on top of the mussed up sheets on the bed.

I make a loud snort and that reels us both back in again, laughing til we're red in the face and til my cheeks hurt.

Simon is giggling away, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself, but he just keeps on giggling. I'm able to sit up a little more and Snow's head is in my lap. He's beaming and looking up at me through squinted, teary eyes.

"That was fun," I say, and I don't think it's the brightest or smartest thing to say. But I say it.

"I love you," Snow's smile is still wide, like he's drunk from it. There's a moment where I feel like I've died again, color drained from me.

It doesn't seem to bother him, that he's said that. For the first time. I run my fingers through his reddish curls once, letting them tangle in the locks towards the back of his head. I hunch myself down so I can kiss him.

"I've wanted to hear that for so long," I whisper.

"That I love you? You haven't figured it out by now?"

"No, you idiot," I say with nothing but fondness, brushing my nose along Simon's jaw, "Your laugh."

#carry on #carry on: the rise and fall of simon snow #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #snowbaz #simon/baz #simon and baz #fanfiction #carry on fanfiction #carry on fanfic #fanfic #ticklish!simon #ticklish!simonsnow #lee!simon #ler!baz

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Shane - ep. 12 - Georgia

Summary: Shane hassles you in the diner and you let slip to Daryl that you want to date him.

A/N: Can’t believe we’re moving this far into it.

Georgia Masterlist | The Walking Dead Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

You almost audibly groaned when Shane walked into the diner on Monday night. Daryl has been gone all weekend and you were quickly realizing that driving yourself around just wasn’t the same. You weren’t too proud to admit that you missed him, more than someone should miss an ‘in between’ friend as Tara had called him.

“You know, in between a friend and a boyfriend.” She had explained after coining the term.

“I get it.”

You were sure your mom was happy, as happy as she could be with you, because you’d been essentially only at the diner and at home all weekend. You’d even been on time for church on Sunday morning, an occurrence that was lacking lately. It wasn’t only Daryl’s absence that had you falling back into that place so close to the daughter that your mother wanted. The one who was perfect enough to fix all the problems she had. Deanna had told your mom, just like Aiden said she would. She’d called her on Friday morning to tell her that she’d noticed you driving with Daryl in his truck.

“When was this?” Your mother had asked, holding her hand up for you to stop as you were preparing to walk out the door for school.

“I’m gonna be late.” You stressed.

She put her hand over the receiver and looked you dead in the eye, “move out that door and I swear to god you will not go out again for a week. School be damned.”

You waited, stood there anxiously by the front door as she cast you glancing and nodded her head and ‘mmhmm’d’ at the appropriate places. Your dad was supposed to be coming home soon from the halfway house he was living in and you’d thought maybe she was talking to him but then she hung up and turned to face you.

“You wanna tell me why Deanna just called me and told me she saw you with Daryl Dixon.”

“Cause he was fixing my car. I told you that, remember?” You knew you said it in that way that suggested she was dumb for asking so you weren’t surprised when she smacked you across the face. It didn’t take the sting away though and you flinched away from her when she kept on.

“You’ve done some truly stupid things before but this really tops it, you know that! Running around town like some whore!”

And you could’ve said something else, at least that was the inner monologue you gave yourself afterward, when you were sitting in class with Maggie, swearing that you fell in the bathtub during your shower. You could’ve said something else, maybe, but you didn’t.

“You would know! Why isn’t dad back yet? Cause he’s not better or cause you’re still fucking your boss!”

Tara told you after school that she had wait the weekend, until she was back from her mom’s house, before you could stay. So you put yourself on best behaviour mode, faking it through a bruised jaw and other, worse injuries, that no one could see. You rolled in late to class with a slip that said you had tripped in the shower and you continued that lie until the last bell rang and you were driving to 7-11 to meet Tara, to stay far away from your mom.

“Monday,” she promised. “I’m back from my mom’s Monday night, you can come over then.”

“She told me ‘as long as you’re under my roof you won’t be anywhere near Daryl’. Good then, watch me get out from under your roof. She acts like it hasn’t happened before.” You replied, whispering as you stood in the back of the soda aisle, far away from Jacqui’s eavesdropping. The last thing you needed was her telling everyone what you said.

“Does Daryl know?” Tara asked, playing dumb.

“No.” You replied, “and I’m not gonna tell him. If he does like me he doesn’t need to think I’m messed up.”

“You’re not messed up, your mom is a dick.”

“Look, I can fake it for a weekend, church, no friends, work. It’ll be fine.” You promised, “and on Monday night, your house.”

“If you need it sooner, I could talk to my dad.” Tara offered. He’d let you stay plenty of times in the past.

“No, Monday’s fine.”

You survived the weekend the exact way you said you would. You faked the nice girl you had strived to be in middle school and for the first three years of high school. You didn’t talk back, you were quiet, nice, you went to work and to church and it was like some kind of wonderful transformation that your mother probably attributed to herself. She’d scared you straight out of your rebellious crush on Daryl and back to the girl she wanted you to be.

But Sunday came and you were counting down the hours. Just another day and you’d be at Tara’s. Hopefully a few more hours and Daryl would be back. Tonight, thankfully, your mom had left church, changed and gone to work, which left you at the diner, closing it out with Lori when Shane walked in.

“I know you got a thing for that Dixon boy but I think you should reevaluate your eyes.” Lori commented, coming up next to you. “Shane Walsh is mighty fine.”

“First, Daryl’s older than you,” you pointed out. He was 23, same as Rick, and Lori was 21, a little closer in age to you. “Second, you forget your pregnant?”

“A girl can’t look?” She shrugged, walking away as you pretended to gag.

Shane seemed oblivious to the interaction as he came up and sat at the counter. You hadn’t seen him since the party, though both Glenn and Maggie had and they claimed he had asked how you were. You weren’t surprised, Shane always did fashion himself as something of a ‘knight in shining armour’ you could only imagine the size of his ego knowing he had effectively ‘saved’ you from Aiden.

“Hey Shane, what can I get you?” You asked, pad and pen ready, as if you thought he was actually going to order and he didn’t just come here with some ulterior motive like Aiden.

“You, back?” Shane asked, grinning at you.

You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath and trying not to say anything too awful. The last thing you felt like dealing with today was Shane. “Hilarious. Order or move Shane.”

“I’m not joking.” He replied, leaning further across the counter.

Over his shoulder Lori was shooting you a look that you were sure could translate into ‘jump on that offer’. You groaned, folding the notepad back up and slipping it into your apron. “Listen, Shane, I appreciate you standing up for me at the party and I’m sorry Aiden was a dick, I really didn’t want to be there with him-“

“Then why were you?”

“None of your business.” You snapped.

“He trashed my house-“

“You both trashed your house! Don’t bitch at me because you got in a fight I didn’t ask you to get involved in.” You said, cutting him off.

“So first it’s thanks so much and then it’s I don’t need you?”

“Yeah Shane,” you continued, “I was trying to be fucking nice to you but you’re being a dick. I’m sorry I don’t have feelings for you anymore but I can’t change that.”

“You don’t mean that.” He said, keeping his voice low. He stood up and followed you down the counter as you tried to get back to work. As you lifted the gate on the counter he grabbed the other side, stopping you from going any further. “You got your head mixed up with that loser Dixon.”

Your jaw tensed as you glared at him, “watch your mouth.” You let go of the gate, shoving passed him to get to your waiting tables.

The resulting noise of the gate felt like it left an echo when Shane let go as well, turning and grabbing your arm. “Just talk to me, please!”

“I said no!” You snapped, pulling your arm away, “leave me alone Shane, I said no. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Shane,” Otis’ voice caught both your attentions and you looked behind the counter to the window that offered a limited view of the kitchen. Otis was standing there, dish on the ledge, staring down Shane Walsh like he could fire bullets with his eyes. You’d known Otis your whole life and there wasn’t a person alive that ever had a bad word to say about him. He was a sweetheart, burly on the outside but teddy soft on the inside. He’d watched you hold your own with Shane in the past, and with Aiden. He watched you flirt with Daryl and told you more than a few times that you had that boy wrapped around your finger whether you thought so or not. And he watched Shane put his hand on you, “Think you should leave.”

“We were just talking.” Shane replied, looking back at you like there was any chance in the world that you would defend him.

“Yeah, and now you’re done.” Otis said.

No further conversation was had. Shane nodded and left, Lori shooting him a sympathetic smile as he passed by her. You wanted to tell her to have at him, you could do without him hanging around. It was good Daryl was away for the weekend cause you were itching to go to his house as you stood outside the diner with Lori while she locked up.

“You really over Shane?” She asked, as if she gave two shits about your life.

“Why?”

“Just wondering. He seems pretty passionate about you.”

“Passionate? Try aggressive.” You countered. He’d always been that way and you thought maybe there had been a time when you substituted who he was for who you wanted him to be but you liked to think you were a little smarter this time around.

“What about Dixon?”

“Why are you asking me all these questions Lor?” You asked. You wanted nothing more than to get in your car and go home.

“Just wondering, I get bored at the apartment, only one there to talk to is Rick and he’s on nights this week.” She replied. He was around whenever she had doctor’s appointments or if she needed something for the baby. She was more than positive that when the little Grimes was born he would be the best dad in King County but he seemingly less interested in being the best fiancé.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, answering her question finally, “Daryl and I aren’t dating though so it doesn’t matter.”

“Think he’s waiting til you turn 18.” She asked.

“No, just don’t think he’s interested in dating me is all.”

You’d given Daryl a lot of thought since you’d started spending time with him. There were times you thought maybe he liked you. Moments when it seemed plausible that there was something but it always felt like it was right before. This build up between the two of you with nothing to show for it in the end.

“You have dated before right?”

“Obviously.” You replied, hand on the door of your car. If she would just get in and pull away , you could too.

“Just checking.” She laughed, finally granting your wish and getting in the car.

You peeled out after her, driving away from your street and pulling into the parking lot of the Shop’n’Bag. You parked as close as you could for a late night, your Jeep illuminated by the overhead light. The grocery store was practically dead at 10p as you grabbed a basket and walked around aimlessly. Hungry was not the way to shop but your mom was being a bitch and refusing to buy you groceries, going so far as to label the items in the refrigerator that she deemed hers.

The freezer aisle, flickering from one of the ceiling lights, seemed to be your lucky spot. It wrapped the wall in the far left, two large cases running almost from wall to wall in the middle and a familiar frame leaning over one of them, cart full of other quick meals and beer beside him.

“Hey stranger.” You greeted, stepping up next to him and leaning against the case.

Daryl straightened, the faintest of smiles coming and going as he looked over at you, “ya ain’t stalking me are ya?”

“No, I just finished at the diner, I’m starving.”

“Ya know they make food there.” He replied, tossing a pack of steaks in the cart and moving along, you falling into step next to him.

“I wasn’t hungry while I was there.” When he stopped again you pulled the three packs of stovetop mac and cheese out of your otherwise empty basket and dropped them in his cart before leaving your basket under the case.

“I ain’t buying yer food.” He said, glancing over his shoulder at you. His eyes landed on the barely visible bruise that was still on your cheek, Tara’s words clear as day in his mind. “What happened?” He asked, hand brushing his own jaw in the same place.

“Fell in the shower.”

“Least it ain’t those cats this time.” He replied.

“When did you get back?” You asked, following him down the aisle.

“Like ten minutes ago, however long I been in here.” He said, pausing to throw something in his cart, “why?”

You shrugged, “it was boring this weekend, I missed you.”

“Musta been real boring then.” He joked, turning his face away so you couldn’t see his cheeks going red. “Ya ain’t start any fights this weekend?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” you stressed. “Deanna called my mom though, told her she saw us driving in your truck.”

“Told ya that ya shouldn’t be hanging around me.” Daryl replied, leaning against the handle of the cart. He watched you look through jars of red gravy until you found the one you wanted, sticking it in the cart. “I ain’t buying your food,” he repeated.

“I’ll pay for it,” you insisted, gripping the other end of the cart and smiling at him. “So, how was hunting?”

“A’ight. Got a deer in the bed a my truck.”

You stuck your tongue out in disgust, “Glad my jeep’s fixed then.�� You walked with Daryl through the rest of the store until he finally decided he was finished grocery shopping and turned his cart toward the check out, only one lane open this time of the night. When you tried to put the divider down between your order and his, Daryl put it back. “Thought you weren’t paying for me?”

“Ain’t a lot a stuff.” He shrugged, “bag it yerself though.”

“What a gentleman.” You laughed; scooting passed him so you could start bagging the groceries as the guy at the checkout put them through.

Tara had told you enough times already that you should invite Daryl to your birthday, or just tell him that you like him and want to date him. You’d thought about both options plenty, positive that they were the only things on your mind these days. But actually, mentioning those things to him were a whole other story.

“So, I turn 18 soon.” You mentioned as you walked out to your jeep with him. His truck was parked a few spaces down, blue tarp over the bed highlighted by a parking light. “Tara and Maggie are having a party for me.”

“Ys sure that’s a good idea?” He joked, putting your groceries in the back for you.

“Stop! No one’s ever gonna let me live that down.” You groaned.

“Ya gonna invite me to yer party then?”

You perked up a little, smiling, “well, yeah. And I was thinking too, you know, I’ll be 18.” You repeated at the end.

“I heard ya.”

“I’ll be legal.” You clarified, as if he couldn’t catch on without you spelling it out for him.

Daryl sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking at you a little more tired than before. “This ain’t a good idea, ya know,” he said, waving his hand between the two of you, “I ain’t got a lot going on right in my life. Ya shouldn’t be dragged into that.”

“I’m not being dragged into anything,” you replied, “I really like you, I think I’ve been pretty obvious about it and if not then I’m telling you now. I like you and I’ll be 18 and I think-”

He stopped you by holding his hand up, “it ain’t gonna happen.”

“Daryl-”

“I gotta get home,” he cut you off, stepping away from your car, “goodnight.”

“Yeah, goodnight.” You sighed, watching him walk away to his car.

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bestbouy · 4 years ago

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Sick

By -Me! Person for: @rubystar2 Summary: Ikor Isn’t feeling very well, But he thinks nothing of it, refusing to tell anyone. -Well, Until he collapses In the middle of Battle. Character Focus: Ikor (Ice herald), Riff (Fire Herald). (Other characters are mentioned) Warnings: idk how to spell ikor's tribe thingie, Or Riff's, And it's quite long. Don't judge me. I got carried away. Oh, and Riff has no clue how to make Eggs And Bacon. When Ikor first felt it, He was in the forest with the others Trying to find a shard of the Elestar. His head was Aching slightly, And he felt like he might fall over. at first, he just rubbed his head and brushed It off. Riff was talking a lot today. And that was that, Til tomorrow. The next day, He was feeling worse. His Headache was Bigger, he had a Stuffy nose now, And he wasn't looking so hot either. He looked like he was sick. He didn't notice. . . Or he didn't want too. Nobody else noticed, Not until the fifth day. Ikor figured out what was happening by now. He felt so *Cold*. he *never* Felt cold. He was an Icey! How was he *Cold?* He didn't want to Admit it. for all he knew, He was the first Icey to get sick like this! ~Third day, Morning~ Ikor was hobbling down the stairs, Yawning. He wasn't feeling great, As always. His head hurt anytime he tried to move- or think. He just felt so cold- "Good morning!" Ikor looked over and saw Riff sitting with Ao-ki, Trek and Eron. He attempted to look like he didn't Want to run back upstairs, surround himself in Pillows, and cry silently for the next Hour or two. "Hello Riff, good morning everyone." He responded. they all had their "Hello"s and "G'morning!"s. "How's it going, Icemen?" Riff asked. He sounded... A bit worried, But ikor was too stressed to care. "I'm fine. How are you today?" "I'm just great! Y'know, Fireys(?????) being the best, And all." Ikor snickered, Riff never missed a chance to sneak in how his tribe was the best. "Listen, we All know MY tribe is the best, Riff." Ikor said, and (Attempting not the stumble) He walked over and sat down next to him. Eron continued his ramble on about something, Something about a Wind shard in the wind realm, Something about ice cream or something? Ikor wasn't listening, He was to busy arguing with riff about Who's tribe was the best. "us Fireys have cool Dances! And crazy dangerous homes!" "Iceys are the best, We life Calculated and safe. And your "Cool dances" are quiet Stupid." "Hey! our dances are the coolest!" "Nuh-uh." "Yuh-huh!" "Oh yeah? well i think-" They where inturruped by a large BOOM as the ground shook underneith them. Ikor wobbled, And then tumbled to the ground. The shaking stopped, And Riff got up to help ikor up. "Woah! Ikor, You good?" Riff asked, Alarmed. "I'm fine, Thank you. What was that?" He asked. They ran outside, Ikor close behind Riff as they ran. It was Gredd, and it looked like he had a new power. Or something like that, Ikor was to distracted by that gosh darn HEADACHE! It hurt so much it was hard to focus. Riff seemed to notice Ikor's Struggle, So he turned to Ikor and said; "Don't worry, I got this Joker!" Riff exclaimed, And began to summon a Gormiti. Ikor just stood next to him as he did the whole "Elemental knights!" Thingie, You know. Ikor was just standing By, looking around and trying to look normal. As riff summoned Hurik, Gredd seemed to grin Wider. "Your Fire gormiti don't scare me Now, Herald!" He said, And with a shout of "Darkwave!" The fight was on. "Blastblaze!" Hurik shouted, the fire gormiti summoning his attack. Ikor noticed something. Something important. There was something... off about gredd's attack. It was more- Powerful? He didn't know, He was sure he miss saw. If only he did. The darkwave went straight through the Blastblaze, And hurik Dodged. "How is he this powerful?" Hurik shouted. "I quite like your elestar shards, Heralds!" Gredd shouted out, Summoning another darkwave. Then ikor saw it. one hand focussing attacks, and Gredd's other hand, Holding Two shards. Ikor was stunned, and not

long after he saw them, riff saw them too. Just as riff was distracted by the shards, Gredd had grinned evilly. with a shout of "Dark wave!", hurik was too weakened to do anything, So he put his hands up to shield himself. But gredd wasn't Aiming for hurik. Riff looked up, And saw it was heading right for him. He gasped, and right before it hit him, Right before he was taken care of . . . What happened? The dark wave Exploded on the target, and Dirt went up everywhere. As the smoke cleared, Gredd had not, in fact, Hit what he intended too. No, he hit a much more. . . Icey, target. Ikalos stood, Still as ice, His shield in hand and blocking the attack from gredd and smiling. "What do you think you're doing, Darken?" Ikor stood, Shaky as grass, Trying with all his might to keep in position. But it was hard, and he couldn't Focus well. As Ikalos Blocked and threw off attacks at Gredd, Ikor weakened and Weakened. How long did he have to do this? it was beginning to tire him. . . Ikor heard something. He ignored it, Head spinning. He felt like he needed to rest his eyes. Just for a second, Y'know? Close them, Open them, he'd feel soo much better if he just closed his eyes. Just for a second. just. . . For a. . . second . . . ? Riff's P.O.V When Ikalos blocked gredd's attack, Riff was almost down in tears. but instead, taking his chance, He scampered away. Moving towards ikor as he Focused on Ikalos. As ikalos threw attacks and blocked others, Riff reached ikor. "T-Thanks, Ikor. Guess icey's aren't as bad as i thought!" he laughed, Stumbling over to the Icey and grinning. Ikor didn't answer, So Riff slightly poked him. "Ikor? Gorm to Ikor? Sheesh, Maybe you icey's ARE bad." Riff snorted. Ikor still didn't reply. Instead, He had stumbled back, Closed his eyes, And fell straight over. Riff gasped, And the others ran over. "What happened to Ikor?" Ao-ki asked, worried. "I don't know! He just fell over!" "Did gredd do anything?" Trek asked "Not that i could see- He just- he-" Riff stumbled over his words, Looking at the unconscious Boi sadly. Trek looked over At ikalos and Gredd. "Wait! Guys, If ikor's Unconcious, He can't focus on Ikalos!" "Which means i will have an Easy Pickings!" Gredd laughed, Throwing a DarkWave and hitting Ikalos directly on the chest. "What happened to Ikor? He needs to focus or i can't fight!" Ikalos shouted at the others. "Uhm- We have a bit of a problem, Bud! He's kinda. . . Asleep?" "WHAT? If he's asleep, I can't-" Ikalos was cut short as an icicle when he quickly disappeared. Trek looked over at Gredd. "We need another gormiti!" he said quickly. "But gredd's got two ice shards! How're we gonna beat him?" "Hey!" Eron piped up. "Remember when we summoned all four of the Lords all that time ago?" "Yeah, Why? We can't summon a Lord,-" "Buuuuuut we can summon two Normal gormiti! I mean, It must be so much easier, And gredd can't focus on Two gormiti!" Riff paused, Looking at the others. "...It might just work." Ao-ki said finally. (Don't ask. don't ask why gredd's just been watching. you'll know why if you have ever watched gormiti. the pauses for convo's are so insane.) Trek and Eron stood up, Beginning to focus as Ao-ki and Riff carried Ikor inside the Tower. Riff assumed that they where successful, As he could them cheering as they got ikor inside and Laying down. Riff took a better look at Ikor. "Sheesh, He looks terrible. How long has he been like this?" "He's sick. I'd say he's had the cold for awhile. . ." Ao-ki explained. "Well why the howling didn't he tell us about that?! That's like, Super important!" "I don't know, But hopefully when he wakes up he'll provide an answer." Ao-ki said. "Hopefully. . ." A little while later, Eron and Trek came back in, Looking exausted. "Is Ikor any better? What happened?" Eron asked, Hopping quickly over to an Unconscious Ikor. "He was Sick. We assume for at least a couple of days." Ao-ki explained. "And for SOME REASON-" Riff crossed his arms, A pout on his face. "-HE DIDN'T TELL US!" "Well obviously, But

i hope he's Okay." Trek sad, Looking down sadly at Ikor. 3rd Person P.O.V Ikor slept for a good while, So the others decided to keep busy. . . . If "keeping busy" Is "Juggling Jewels" or "Taking a nap" or "Worrying about the ice boi". after about half an hour, The compass suddenly made a farmiliar "BEEP BEEP BEEP" sound, Starttling everyone. Ao-ki walked over, picked up the Compass, and Looked to everyone else, excited. "It's a Shard of the Elestar! There's one in the forest!" She exclaimed. "Well then what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Eron said, Shaking trek awake. "W-Wha? A shard? Shouldn't we be with Ikor?" He yawned. "I'll stay with Ikor in case he wakes up, Y'all should go get the shard." Riff said, Looking down at Ikor. He had been worrying about Ikor all day, Ever Since he collapsed. "Okay. . . Let us know when we come back if he's okay." Ao-ki said, Beginning to beckon the others to the door. "C'mon guys!" she shouted as they left. Riff's P.O.V Silence seeped in afterwords, As ikor seemed to shift in his sleep. Was he waking up already? No, Ikor was just moving. He wasn't awake yet. Riff groaned. He was bored already. What was he gonna do while Ikor woke up?? It suddenly came to Riff's attention, A small Kitchen off to the side of the tower. It wouldn't hurt to try it out, Would it? Nah, Fireys can do anything! Ikor's P.O.V Ikor woke up to the smell of something Burning. He groaned, Sitting up and reaching his hand up to rub his head. Ikor actually felt much better, His headache was basically gone, And he felt unbothered. But, Y'know, All things have their end. as He Looked around, he Noticed the trail of Smoke coming out of the kitchen off to the Side. "Agh! Uh, This needs suger!-" a pause, Then a yelp. "-THAT'S SALT- Oh wait i was supposed to put that in, That's good. Wait, How much salt Do i need again? Eh, I'll just pour in the whole bag. What's it gonna do wrong?" Another pause, And ikor heard something falling over and spilling. "Oh sheesh- OH NO THE CINNAMON-" Ikor eventually figured out it was Riff, But one question Remained. What the howling was riff making? Ikor slowly got up, attempting not to wince in pain as he moved his Legs. He looked towards the Kitchen and began hobbling over. Apparently, His moving had made a Sound, as Riff poke his head out the kitchen Doorframe. "Ikor! You're awake! I'm making you some eggs and bacon, Just give me a second!" Riff exclaimed, But his smile dipped a bit. "Oh! And you need to explain a lot of stuff when i'm done!" It took ikor a second, But he found it in him to Snap at the Firey. "R-Riff, Why the Howling would EGGS AND BACON need SALT AND CINNAMON?" He hissed at him, Grabbing the door for Support the moment he got near it. "Uh- Well, I'm putting everything i like in them, then adding the eggs and bacon together! That's how you make eggs and bacon, Right?" "You've NEVER made eggs before? Seriously?" Ikor snorted. "I'm guessing that's a no, Then?" Ikor raised an eyebrow, And Riff Shrunk down a bit. Ikor sighed, Walking towards him best he could, and sitting down on a stool. "Don't worry. I can't make them right now, But i can tell you how. Okay. Get rid of all this- Stuff, and get out a Pan, Some Butter, and- FOR LORDS SAKE, YOU PUT THEM IN THE OVEN?-" That went on for awhile, Ikor telling Riff what to do and Riff (Kinda) doing it. with a couple of "NONONONO *NOT* THE SALT AGAIN-" And one "Why the howling would you cut the bacon up???", They eventually finished the bacon and eggs. Or eggs and bacon. LISTEN I DON'T KNOW WHICH WAY TO PUT IT- "For a firey, You actually did pretty well following commands." Ikor said, taking a bite of his charred Bacon. "But you cooked the bacon too much, You idiot." Ikor joked. "At least *I* didn't say to cook it to your liking." Riff said. "These are perfect for me." "At the ice kingdom, We don't even cook them. We eat raw." "WHAT?" They sat there, Talking about anything that came to their minds. It wasn't Exciting, almost relaxing. "I was never one to study our dances, But i

can't see how they look stupid!" "It just does! I don't understand why you do it, Is all." "We just do!" As Riff finished his Bacon, he looked back up at ikor. "And Hey! you never explained why you didn't tell us about you being sick!" He said, Pointing his fork at him. "Ah. . . I was hoping you'd forget, You fireys always do." "Hey! We are not, We're very- Heeyyyy, Stop changing the subject! Tell me!" "I kinda. . . Thought you guys wouldn't like me, And in turn would get rid of me, Because honestly, Who just keeps a Herald around that nobody likes? And you would replace me with some stupid Icey, And my father would hate me, And y'all would go on without me, Never giving me a second thought, And maybe just hating iceys more then ever." Ikor spilled. "But" he said. "Now that i think about it." He added. "I know you guys wouldn't do that to me. Y'all are my friends. You always will be, And i trust all of you to know that." He smiled at Riff, And Riff smiled back. Maybe this was going to be okay. Maybe he didn't have to hide all his problems anymore. Maybe. . . Just maybe. . . He could be a part of a new family. //Note: I took WAY too long\\ //I'M SO SORRY\\

#gormiti #Ikor #gormiti ikor #ikor gormiti #Reboot 2018 #gormiti 2018 #gormiti reboot 2018 #happi boi #I'M SO SORRY DEAR LORD I TOOK TOO LONG

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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years ago

Text

lost time (chapter seven)

MASTERLIST

pairing: rafe cameron x oc

warning: cursing, underage drinking

wordcount: 2.7k

_______

“You’re trouble, Soph.” Rafe murmured to her, laughing at her obvious blush.

“I’m just keeping the game fun. Poor Indiana has been getting blown out since the first quarter.” She rested her head on his shoulder and he cleared his throat, reminding himself this was only because she was drunk. “Ready to go?” Sophie shivered, crossing her arms. “Yeah, fine. To the bars?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and rubbed her arm, trying to warm her up. “I don’t know about that, I think you need some food.”

“Rafe, are you joining us for dinner?” Her mom interrupted them with a friendly smile. “Um, no, I don’t want to intrude. I really appreciate you letting me hang around for most of the day though, I had a lot of fun.” He countered quickly, moving Sophie to stand upright. She let out a quiet whine and he dug his fingers just slightly into her shoulder. “You’re welcome to join if you’d like.” Her dad replied, giving Rafe a second chance.

“No, no, it’s alright. I’m going to catch up with my friends, thank you though.” He denied the offer again. “I’ll see you in class, yeah Soph?”

She patted his cheek with a dopey smile. “See you in class, buddy.”

Rafe grinned, shaking his head before he turned away to walk home on his own. “Call me if you want a ride later. It was good to see you both!” He waved goodbye to her parents, walking away.

Later that night, around 11, Rafe’s phone went off with several messages. He was surprised to see they were from Sophie, of all people. (He shouldn’t have been that surprised, given the way she was leaning on him earlier.)

Sophie: hiiiiii

We need to hang

Like for real

I don’t hate you you know that right

Rafe: You good?

Sophie: totally

She sent a voice message, on accident. It was mainly 30 seconds of background noise of the party, but at the end, Rafe could just barely make out a male voice saying “you’re not talking to him again, are you? You’re drunk, be careful.”

He texted again.

Rafe: Whatcha up to

Sophie: Drinking come drink drink

Rafe: I’m not sure if that’s a good idea

Sophie: Come hang

*sends her location*

After about 30 seconds of debating, Rafe let his laptop fall shut and stood, abandoning his post in the study room. Colin, the only other boy in the fraternity dedicated enough to study on a Saturday night, lifted his head from his math homework. (It wasn’t Rafe’s top choice either, but it was a solid distraction from parent’s weekend and his painfully obvious lack of family present.) “Hey, wait, where are you going?”

Rafe was already checking over his reflection in the mirror, trying to fix his hair. “Uh...Sophie asked me to meet her at some party.” He didn’t dare make eye contact with Colin, feeling the smirk bore into the back of his head. After a few moments of unbearable silence, he spun back around. “Fine, just say it.”

Colin laughed. “I wasn’t gonna say a thing. You’re going to change, right?”

Rafe groaned, glancing down at his worn t-shirt and basketball shorts he had changed into after the football game. “Do I need to? I don’t want to make her think I’m like, dressing up for her or whatever. I just want to drink.”

“Uh huh. Go change. And don’t get too drunk, you’re still coming to brunch with me and James’ parents tomorrow.” Colin waved him off and Rafe gave him a grateful nod before leaving the study room and jogging up the stairs to their room. He pulled out the clothes he had on earlier from his laundry basket, sniffing them quickly before tugging them on. He grabbed his keys, glanced over himself once in the mirror, then headed out.

Rafe double-checked her location before parking and walking up to a house with people spilling out of it, music blasting from the inside. He wasn’t sure he could handle drunk Sophie being touchy again and hoped to god she had sobered up a little bit - a naive hope, considering the way she was texting. As he made his way inside, Carter saw him right away and clapped an unfriendly hand on his shoulder, squeezing tighter than necessary. “What are you doing here, Cameron?”

“Uh, Soph - er, Sophie invited me.” Rafe explained, shrugging Carter’s hand away and glancing around the packed living room. He placed the warning voice in Sophie’s voice message now, nodding slightly in recognition. “You seen her?”

“Yeah.” Carter answered, completely unhelpful and stared him down as he took a sip from his cup.

Rafe laughed, a little wary. “Right. I’ll go find her, then, nice seeing you.”

“Watch yourself, Cameron.” Carter raised his eyebrows slightly and Rafe nodded again, rolling his eyes once his back was turned. He wove his way through the crowd til he found Sophie out in the backyard, looking bored as some guy tried talking to her.

Rafe watched from a distance for a moment with an amused smile as she briefly entertained the conversation, then made his way over. “Soph, hey!” He called out, settling his arm around her shoulders once he reached her.

Immediately a grin grew on her face as she turned into him, reaching up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Hi Rafe!” He turned red right away, grateful it was dark. The boy excused himself quickly, catching the hint. “Oh my god, you rescued me.” Sophie smiled, hand on Rafe’s chest.

He chuckled, taking the half-full can from her hand and setting it aside. “That bad, huh? How long have you been drinking for?”

“I...umm…” She trailed off, trying her best to remember and shrugged. “I dunno.”

He tapped her nose, grinning when she scrunched it up in a scowl. “You here alone?”

“Yeah, Carter dragged me here. Everyone’s, like, old.” Her face lit up and she reached up, patting his cheek. “But you’re here! Can you drive? I would, but I think I might not be sober.”

Rafe took her hand from his face, placing it back at her side and laughed. “Maybe not. Do you want to go home?”

“Yes please.” She took off, strolling around the side of the house to the front without waiting for him.

He jogged after her, letting her lead the way - until she made it to the street, stepping out just as a car flew past. Rafe grabbed her around the waist, yanking her back out of traffic. “Jesus, Soph, careful!”

She yelped as he grabbed her and pouted a little, crossing her arms once he set her safely back on the sidewalk. “Don’t yell at me, I’m fragile!”

He sighed softly and nudged her aside so he was walking on the side of the street. “I’m trying to not get you squished. My car’s just down here, okay?”

She took his hand, using him for balance more than anything as she struggled to walk straight. “Okay. Deal. I think you just saved my life.”

He laughed, tugging her a little closer. “Just want you safe.”

“Can I stay with you?”

If he hadn’t been concentrating so much on keeping her steady, he would have stopped dead in his tracks. “What? With me?”

“Yeah. Allie and Jules won’t cuddle with me. They say I’m ‘a hazard to society’ when I’m drinking.” She reasoned, putting on a sarcastic tone with her last statement.

He swallowed hard, debating how terrible of an idea this was. “Uh. Yeah, you can stay with me. James is staying with his girlfriend, so. I’ll take his bed.” The last part of his response fell on deaf ears. When they made it to his car, he made sure she was safely buckled before getting in himself.

After the fifth time of him batting her hands away from the radio volume, he gave in, letting her crank some terrible pop radio remix from the speakers. He grinned as he looked over, seeing her sing along, and thought to himself - I could get used to this - then frowned as he remembered they would never work. Not as long as she was Sophie Flint, and he was Rafe Cameron, and they fought like twin flames.

She didn’t miss his expression fall and reached over, resting her hand on his shoulder. “S’wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m good. You good?”

“I’m incredible.” She beamed.

He nodded with a soft smile as he pulled into the Delt parking lot. “Yeah, you are. Ready for bed?”

“Or more.” Sophie smirked and Rafe let out a long breath, shaking his head.

“Oookay. You’re drunk.” He got out and helped her out of the car, gently pushing her hands away as she went to grasp his hips.

“I’m hardly drunk.” She protested, leaning up to kiss him and he dodged away, laughing as she brushed her lips against his jaw.

“Sophie. C’mon, inside.”

“Ugh, fine.” She stuck out her bottom lip slightly in an adorable pout, stomping a little as she walked into the house with Rafe. He just smiled to himself, ushering her up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, she tried pushing him against the wall, rising up on her toes to try and kiss him again. “C’mon, let me,” she whined as he ducked away at the last second so her lips caught his cheek.

“No, you only kiss me when you’re drunk and I don’t like that.” He frowned slightly, placing his hands on her shoulders and nudging her away.

She frowned back, reaching up to poke the corner of his frown. “You don’t like me?”

“I never said that, Soph.” He corrected, then turned her around, steering her toward his room. She furrowed her brow but walked with his guidance, trying to figure out exactly what he meant. Once they were in his room he shut the door behind them and gestured to the corner of the room.

“Here, you can have my bed, I promise I just washed the sheets.” Rafe offered.

Sophie stumbled over to the only made bed as he followed close behind, trying to make sure she didn’t trip. “Are you gonna give me clothes?”

“Clothes?” He repeated dumbly, watching as she hopped up onto the bed.

“I don’t wanna sleep in a skirt.” She started pulling her shirt over her head and Rafe turned around quickly.

“Right! Right. Um…” He rifled through his closet then stayed facing forward, tossing a shirt of his to her.

After a couple minutes, she let out a quiet whine. “Need help.”

“Help? Can I turn around?” He waited a moment, but when she didn’t respond, he slowly turned and laughed at the sight before him. She hadn’t even tried, the shirt collar halfway on her head and her arms weren’t pulled through the sleeves. He did his best to avert his gaze south as her skirt already crumpled to the floor. “Arm up, Soph.”

She obliged only when he lifted her hand, pouting slightly. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing. Cooperate.” He grinned, tugging the shirt over her head and nudging her to pull her arms through.

“You are laughing. I did it!” She cheered, flopping back onto the bed.

Rafe blushed and pulled the blanket over her legs for her sake. “Good girl.”

She sat up quickly - too quickly, grabbing the headboard for stability. “Say that again.”

“What? No. Go to bed, Soph.” He laughed, pulling his polo over his head and tossing it in his laundry. He hesitated briefly before pulling on a pair of basketball shorts over his boxers and she frowned, reaching out.

“No, Rafe, c’mere.”

“No, I’m sleeping in James’ bed. You stay there.” He told her, moving to the other side of the room to get in bed.

“No, come cuddle.” She insisted, patting the empty space in his bed.

He paused, knowing it was probably a bad idea, but hauled himself out of bed with a sigh. “Just until you fall asleep, okay?”

“Deal.” Sophie grinned, pleased, as he settled into the small space next to her, trying his best to not touch her. She leaned over right away and tucked the blanket over the two of them, resting her head on his bare chest and draped her arm across his waist.

He had never been more grateful she was drunk, as his heart was threatening to hammer straight out of his chest. He rested a careful arm around her shoulders, gently scratching her back. “Go to sleep, Sophie.” He murmured.

Her eyes had fluttered shut the moment he started rubbing her back. “You go to sleep, Rafe.” She mumbled back.

He let out a low chuckle and she smiled to herself as she felt it rumble through his chest. “I will. Soon.”

It didn’t take long for Rafe to fall asleep after Sophie did. Colin had crept in an hour later, and had to clap a hand over his mouth to not let out a loud laugh at the sight before him. He decided to be nice and backed out of the room, staying quiet - but not before snapping a photo and sending it to James.

Sophie woke up around 4am, groggy and confused. She was cuddled into someone’s side, wearing someone else’s clothes that smelled oddly familiar. When she lifted her head to see who her strange suitor was, she almost gasped. “Oh my god,” she murmured to herself, resisting the strange urge to trace her fingers over his cheekbone.

Rafe stirred just slightly, pulling her closer against his chest. She froze and he settled, still clearly asleep. Sophie let out a tiny sigh of relief and untucked herself from his side, slipping out of bed without making a sound. She turned bright red upon realizing her clothes were in a wrinkled heap on the floor, and hurriedly pulled on her skirt and balled up her shirt in her fist. “Phone, phone, where’s my phone?” She whispered in a panic to herself before snagging it off the nightstand and creeping across the room.

After closing the door behind her, she let out a huge exhale, then escorted herself out quickly, thankful she only passed one drunk boy passed out on the couch in the living room as she left. “Fucking hell,” she mumbled, checking her dead phone. She cursed all the way back to the Theta house, shivering in the brisk morning air.

Once she was back at her sorority, she snuck upstairs back to her room, hoping to get into bed without waking her roommates. Julia woke first at the door, sitting up quickly. “Where the fuck did you go?”

Allie rose slowly at the sound of her voice, rubbing her eyes. “Soph’s back? What time is it?”

“Shh, shh, go back to sleep.” Sophie chided hurriedly, fumbling around in the dark for a pair of sweats before climbing into her bed.

“Hold up, did you shack with someone?” Julia asked, flicking on the lamp to see Sophie’s shirt.

“Jules, please,” Sophie begged, shielding her eyes.

Allie gasped, connecting the dots first. “Did you sleep with Rafe?!”

“Oh my god!” Julia exclaimed.

Sophie groaned, pulling her pillow over her head and turned to face the wall. “Leave me alone, I’m sleeping!”

“Fine, but you’re getting grilled when I get up again.” Julia threatened, but flicked off the light.

There was a brief moment of silence in the dark before Allie giggled. “That bad you had to leave, huh?”

“Shut up!”

“Get up fucker, how was your night?” James greeted Rafe the next morning, letting the door slam open as he strolled into their room with Colin in tow.

Rafe groaned as he lifted his head, arm cuddled around his pillow in the space where Sophie was. “...Huh?”

Colin laughed as James launched himself onto Rafe’s bed, narrowly missing his body.

“C’mon, James, what the fuck!” Rafe exclaimed, shoving him away.

James grinned, socking Rafe in the arm. “Heard you had a guest last night.”

“You weren’t even here last night...” Rafe frowned, then eyed Colin with an accusatory glance. “Traitor.”

Colin raised his hands in defense, but wore a telling smirk. “You just looked so cute cuddling up with her, I thought I’d take a photo. For the memories, you know.”

“Yeah, doubt she has any fucking memories.” Rafe grumbled as he hauled himself out of bed. “She was hammered, I picked her up, she asked to come back here and we fell asleep. That’s it.”

“You know what they say. Drunk words are sober thoughts.” James pointed out.

“James, last week you told me Helen Keller wasn’t real when you were drunk.” Colin argued.

“She literally wasn’t, dude, there’s no fucking way.”

“What the - there’s literally documented evidence!”

“Shut up, you two!” Rafe tossed a pillow at James, effectively shutting him up mid-response. “Why did you get me up at 8am on a Sunday anyways?”

“Right. We gotta leave in five, our parents want you at brunch.” Colin reminded him, eyeing over Rafe’s messy hair and shirtless state. “You should probably throw on a shirt. Brush your hair, maybe?”

“Yeah, you look like shit. But we’re not done talking about this.” James added.

“There’s literally nothing to talk about.” Rafe crossed his arms, a permanent scowl on his face as he glanced between his two friends.

“Photos say otherwise.” Colin grinned. “Get dressed.”

“Why are you both so set on this?” Rafe frowned, tugging on a quarter zip and raking his fingers through his hair.

Colin and James exchanged glances, quiet for a moment too long, before James shrugged. “I think you know why. Come on, we have to go.”

Rafe finished getting dressed and followed them out the door, grumbling more to himself than anything along the way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

taglist: @obx-saltlife @dontjinx-it @butgilinsky @oopsiedoopsie23 @taiter-tots @annedub @alexandracheers

#photo is there just because i like it #leave me alone #rafe x sophie #mine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx fanfiction #college rafe #frat rafe

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brokutosan · 5 years ago

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Title. It Made Me Feel Warm Yet Scared At The Same Time

Pairing. Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader

Summary. In which she’s hurtling towards him, but she’s scared he might not catch her. (Spoiler: he does).

Warnings. This contains manga spoilers to up to the latest chapter!

Ushijima Wakatoshi doesn’t look like someone who’s interested in relationships. Or perhaps he truly isn’t. Day in and day out his thoughts are plagued with volleyball, and Y/N isn’t sure if she can find a place she could weasel her way into those said thoughts.

Tendou Satori, her coworker and friend who had introduced her to the man in question, had once said that, “Wakatoshi-kun’s brain is basically a hollowed out volleyball.” It makes sense, though. He’s a Division 1 player that’s made his way to the National Japanese team at the age of 19, so if he wasn’t as dedicated to the sport as he is then Y/N would think his whole career is a fluke.

“Say, Y/N-chan,” Tendou hums, catching the girl’s attention, “why do you like Wakatoshi-kun anyways?” Y/N stops to think about the question. It’s a good and valid question and the eccentric man in front of her had asked it a million times. And each time Y/N does not know how to answer the question.

“Why is the sky blue?” Y/N finds herself throwing the question at Tendou after much consideration.

“Hah?” He jumps up. His reaction is totally over the top, but it’s nothing Y/N isn’t already used to. “How am I supposed to answer that?” He questions back, brows furrowing into a frown.

“That’s exactly how I feel about your question.” Y/N calmly replies, taking a sip of her drink. Tendou’s face relaxes from its frown, and he jumps up exclaiming, “Oh! I see what you did there.”

“Wait. When did we jump from finishing this paperwork to talking about my love life?” Y/N perks up, straightening her back in order to avoid premature back problems. She focuses her attention back on their forgotten paperwork, rearranging them based on importance.

“I’m just a concerned friend trying to help solve your relationship problems. Specifically your lack of one.”

“Well, thanks but no thanks.” At that, Tendou gives it a rest. Or at least Y/N thought so, before he shoots up in his seat again, gaining strange looks from the people seated near the pair in the small café. “I got it! Is it because he’s attractive?”

Y/N throws him a pointed look, one that screamed out her disappointment, before she sighs out, “I like Ushijima-san because he’s Ushijima-san.” Tendou pauses and brings a hand up to his face, indicating some sort of thought process.

“Yes yes, I totally understand.”

“Kinda feels like you don’t.”

“I do.”

Y/N accepts defeat, choosing to just stay quiet just in case Tendou starts trying to dig deeper. A few minutes of silence engulfs the two as they focus on their on work, the topic of Y/N’s ‘tragic’ love life and Ushijima Wakatoshi being forgotten amidst paperwork and deadlines.

“Aki said yes when I proposed.”

“Satori! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” This time the strange looks are pointed at Y/N, who’s leaning in from across the table to an unamused red head. “I forgot about it ‘til now.”

“So...?” Y/N muses, still standing on the balls of her feet as she shoves her face as close as possible to her surprisingly nonchalant friend. “So what?”

“When did you propose? How did you propose? When’s the wedding?” Y/N gushes, forgetting to let her friend answer her never-ending questions. “Slow down there, Y/N-chan.” Tendou chuckles and waits for her to settle down in her seat before continuing,

“I proposed last weekend over dinner and the wedding’s in four months.”

“Four months? Is that enough time to prepare?”

“It’s a simple ceremony at a shrine back home. All we care about is actually getting married.” Tendou has a dreamy look on his face, one that made Y/N slightly jealous. She hopes that someday she’ll feel it too.

Taking in her friend’s expression that screamed out ‘I’m in love!’, Y/N smiles warmly and says, from the bottom of her heart, “I’m happy for you and Aki, Satori. I really am.”

“Yeah. And I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you, Y/N. So...” Tendou hints, wiggling his eyebrows and craning his neck in a way that implied he’s up to something.

“Oh no no no. No, I get where this is going, but no.” Y/N shakes her head ‘no’ vigorously, and Tendou’s almost worried for her neck but argues,

“I didn’t even say anything yet!”

“You’re grateful that I set you and Aki-chan up so now you want to do the same thing for me and Ushijima-san.”

“Damn, you’re good.” Tendou mumbles as he slouches down in his chair. “I wouldn’t be this happy if it weren’t for your help, Y/N-chan. Let me return the favor.”

“It wouldn’t be a favor if I expected something in return. Trust me Satori, I’m fine.” Y/N is hesitant to say her next sentence, but she does so anyway. “Besides...I don’t think Ushijima-san likes me like that anyways.”

“Hah?! Are you blind?!” At this point the workers are giving them dirty looks and Y/N has to physically wrestle Tendou back down to his chair. “Scream one more time and I’m telling our boss you’re finishing all of my paperwork for me.” Tendou pouts but complies anyways.

“You’re crazy if you think he doesn’t like you!” Tendou whisper-yells while making obscene gestures with his hands. “What makes you say that?”

“Look, it might not be obvious to you, but I’ve known Wakatoshi-kun since highschool!” Tendou states the obvious. Y/N looks at him unamused, but lets him continue anyways. “When he likes or dislikes something, it shows on his face!”

“His facial expression has never changed when he’s talking to me though.”

“But it does when you’re not looking! He has that small, satisfying smile on his face like when he perfects a spike or wins a game.” Y/N is skeptical, though she always is when it comes to Tendou, but she gives him the benefit of the doubt. “Okay. Say he does miraculously like me too. Then why hasn’t he made a move?”

“Why haven’t you?”

“Touché.”

Tendou lets out a dramatic sigh and slams his head down on the table. “You’re both hopeless!”

“I’d like to think of myself more as a realist. And the reality is Ushijima-san probably sees me as your boring friend from work.” Tendou runs a hand through his face and lets out something that sounds like a mixture of a grunt and a groan. He’s overreacting, Y/N thinks to herself.

“He’s a VLeague player, Satori. Meanwhile I can barely make rent on time because my friend won’t let me get my work done.”

“You’re being unfair to yourself Y/N! Why not give it a chance?” Y/N ponders over it for a minute. She could. No, she wants to, wholeheartedly. But the thing is she’s scared of making a fool out of herself. While she’s not technically someone with an inferiority complex, it’s hard to get past the fact that the man is way out of her league.

Then again...how the hell would she know if she doesn’t even give it a shot?

“Damn.” Y/N huffs out in defeat, back slamming her chair as she dramatically drops her body on it. Tendou sees this as a sign of victory, and holds up two peace signs. “Operation Wakatoshi and Y/N is a go!”

“I hate you, Satori.”

“Oh c’mon! You love me!”

“Nope. I hate you to death.”

“You’ll thank me for this opportunity later.”

“Sure, if I don’t kill you beforehand.” Tendou lets out a laugh, or more like a cackle, and Y/N has to physically rip her phone away from her ears in order to avoid damage. She’s thankful she’s not in public, like a train or something, or else she would have died out of embarrassment.

“You can’t kill me ‘cus then no one would help you with Operation Wakatoshi and Y/N!” Tendou wheezes out as soon as he’s done with his laughing fit.

“I can help myself.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Have I said how much I hate you yet?”

“Y/N,” Tendou’s voice is clear with no more trace of laughter. If Y/N knew any better - the guy is being one hundred percent serious. “Just go to dinner with us, you won’t die from it. I’ll say Aki-chan had a free dinner for four and pay our meals in advance.”

“Isn’t that too obvious? Like why him and why me out of all of your friends?”

“Wakatoshi-kun won’t look into the finer details of these types of things. Trust me.”

“What if I freak him out? What if he thinks I’m insanely boring? What if -” Tendou cuts off her unnecessary rambling. From her end of the call, Y/N can just feel the major eyeroll Tendou was probably doing.

“Relax. All you need to do is be yourself, Y/N! Talk to him about your daily life and listen to him ramble about volleyball. If anything Aki-chan and I will be there as a buffer.”

“Thanks for the reassurance, but I’d rather die.”

“You’re so dramatic, Y/N chan.” And at that, she immediately shuts her mouth. If that phrase just came out of Tendou’s mouth of all people, then perhaps she was being just a smidge bit dramatic. Only because Tendou was set on hooking her up with his greek god of a friend.

The call ends after a bit more teasing from Tendou and some more death theats from Y/N that followed. Eventually they decide on a date after considering Ushijima’s training schedule, and it suddenly hits Y/N that it’s actually going to happen. She’s actually going to dinner with one of the finest man she’s ever seen walk the Earth.

“So...” Four pairs of eyes glance around at each other, each seemingly awkward and unfamiliar despite knowing each and everyone there on the table. It was Aki who had decided to take the liberty of breaking the silence, and Y/N silently thanks her friend who’s always been the more extroverted one among the two.

“Wakatoshi-kun, how’s volleyball training?” Aki darts her eyes at the said man, who was busy trying to ignore the awkward stares by stuffing his face with the pork curry in front of him. He coughs, obviously caught off guard, and Tendou is kind enough to pour him a glass of water (albeit he had a shit-eating grin on his face, but it’s the thought that counts).

“Ah, it’s doing well.” Ushijima replies after his mini choking scare. If he did end up choking on that piece of pork, Y/N is certified at performing the heimlich maneuver, but she’s not sure she could handle being that close to him without suddenly freaking out.

Y/N shakes her head in attempt of getting rid of the mental image of her arms wrapped around Ushijima’s torso. His very lean and toned torso. Her eyes wander a below his chest where she’s sure, hiding behind that thick sweater, is a body she’s only ever seen in movies. A testament to his strict training and diet.

“...Y/N? What do you think?” Tendou’s egging her on. She knows he saw her eyeing Ushijima like a piece of man-candy and now he’s making her pay for it. The red haired man is grinning at her, and it took everything in Y/N not to slap that grin off his face from across the table.

“Um...yes...?” It comes out a lot weaker than Y/N had intended it to, and now Tendou’s biting his cheeks to hold in his laughter. Y/N sees Aki elbow his ribs from under the table. Good. The bastard deserves it.

“Oh, so you do think that Wakatoshi-kun’s the most attractive player in the league?” Fuck. If she blurts out ‘no’ right now she’d be offending him. If she blurts out ‘yes’ she’ll be digging her own grave.

“Tendou. She doesn’t have to answer that.” Ushijima’s voice is stern yet indifferent, but good enough to shut Tendou up. Y/N weakly nods her head, a small apology for letting her thoughts wander and creating that awkward situation. He nods back in acknowledgment.

“Wakatoshi-kun, would ‘ya mind walking Y/N back to her apartment? Aki-chan and I here have a long way home and I’m worried about our friend Y/N here since it’s getting late.” There’s the catch. Y/N should have known he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

“No, it’s totally fine! My apartment is only a fifteen minute walk away, and there’s street lights everywhere! You don’t need to-”

“I was already planning on doing that.” Y/N finds herself getting more excited at those words than she should. He truly is a gentleman.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose! I know you’re probably busy with training and stuff.”

“Y/N-san. It’s only a fifteen minute walk away. I think I’ll be fine.” He says with a small smile. Ah. So he’s decided to throw her words right back at her. Clever.

The rest of their dinner goes by smoothly, with Y/N being careful Tendou doesn’t make an ass of her for the rest of the night. She learns more things about Ushijima than before, things like how his dad lives in California, and he tries to visit every once in a while. By the end of the night, Y/N feels herself getting closer to her crush. But then she remembers the dreaded 15 minute walk back to her house.

“Ushijima-san, are you sure about this? I really don’t want to be a bother.” She repeats for the nth time since walking out of the restaurant.

Ushijima offers her another smile and says, “It’s fine, L/N-san. I wouldn’t be comfortable knowing I let you walk home alone in the dark.” And at that Y/N gives it a rest, deciding to walk in silence. It lasts about three minutes, until Ushijima asks in a soft voice,

“Do you find being around me uncomfortable?” It comes out almost vulnerable, pretty ironic considering this tower of a man doesn’t look like the type who’d ask this question. Nontheless, Y/N quickly retorts,

“No! I mean...no, of course not! It’s quite the opposite, actually. I find your presence comforting, like...uh...like a giant teddy bear!” Oh god. She said that out loud. As in she said those words. As in she just called Ushijima Wakatoshi, Schweiden Adlers’ opposite hitter and the National team’s cannon, a giant teddy bear. I want to die. Y/N keeps walking ahead, not noticing that the stupidly handsome man beside her had stopped walking about five steps ago.

Y/N is so focused on mentally kicking herself in the ass that she doesn’t notice the feint small that makes its way to his face. And the laugh that follows takes her by surprise. It’s a nice sound. Y/N’s almost glad she made an ass out of herself in order to hear it.

“That’s...that’s a pretty interesting comparison.” He says once his laughter dies down. Looking back at him, Y/N finds it unfair how the moonlight is hitting his features just right, making him look almost ethereal. This man truly is out of her league. (And she just called him a giant teddy bear, Y/N’s never gonna forget that).

“Sorry, that totally came out wrong.” Y/N’s glad Tendou’s not around. The slimy bastard would never let her live it down. She could almost imagine having to go about her day with Tendou reminding her that this happened. She shudders at the thought. Ushijima notices this.

“Are you cold?” Y/N purses her lips and starts to say no, but is interrupted by him sliding off his jacket. “Here, take this.” He says warmly, closing the five-step gap between them with three long strides.

Y/N finds herself at lost for words as an oversized jacket pools her form, and Ushijima zips up the jacket with gentle hands. His face is even closer now, this much Y/N is hyperactively aware of. She feels a brush creeping up her face and curses herself for being so helpless in this situation. If only Tendou could see her now.

“Thank you, Ushijima-san. You didn’t have to.” He’s looking down at her with an unreadable expression, hands still fixed at her shoulders.

“Wakatoshi.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Just Wakatoshi is fine.” His face breakes into a smile as the sentence causes blood to shoot up Y/N’s face, her cheeks no doubt redder than a tomato. Cute, he thinks to himself.

“A-ah, then, thank you, Wakatoshi.” She manages to squeak out, though her voice is a bit muffled from her hands covering her face. She feels warm hands grip her wrist, gently pulling her hands away from her face. Y/N is once again made aware of the fact that his face alone could be used as a deadly weapon.

“You can just call me Y/N, too.” She finds herself blurting out. Ushijima, the deadly weapon, decides to go in for the kill. “Alright. So, Y/N, would you like to have dinner with me some other day? Just the two of us this time.”

Y/N pinches herself to make sure she isn’t dreaming, and replies with a hearty grin and a, “Yeah, I’d love that.”

A/N. Another reupload! There was a certain point in time when I was obsessed with Ushiwaka. This is me praying tribute to that. As always, thank you for reading! Please leave a like if you enjoyed it! - chuu

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oneshots #hq imagines #hq scenarios #hq x reader #hq oneshots #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi imagine #ushijima wakatoshi scenario #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi oneshot #shiratorizawa

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adenei · 4 years ago

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Fake It Til You Make It - Ch. 5

AO3 || FFN

Ginny walked into the dining hall a few days after trials. She’d been doing her best to keep to herself and lay low to not attract any more attention. Harry seemed to be spending more and more time with the other boys on the team, and they never invited Ginny to join them, not that she cared. She spent her time getting to know the campus instead.

When she got bored, not to mention smelly enough, she’d catch a bus across town to visit the twins and shower at their place. The boy’s dorm showers were configured the same as the locker room, and Ginny couldn’t take any chances. Of course, now that classes had started, the time constraints wouldn’t allow her to take daily trips to the twins’ flat, so she needed to figure out how to shower at school.

Ginny grabbed a sandwich and other various lunch items before searching for a table to sit at. She noticed Harry and the rest of the guys sitting across the room and decided to join them since there was an extra seat.

“Hey, my dudes, what’s up?” Ginny asked as she sat down.

They all stared at her for a moment before returning to their conversation. Well, at least they didn’t get up and leave me here alone. She knew she sounded ridiculous, but part of her thought it was hilarious. It was worth all the flack she’d get from Ron once he returned. He needed some repercussions for taking off and leaving her to cover.

Ginny was drawn out of her thoughts when the boys grew quiet. She followed their stares to the food line where two girls in short skirts were swiping their meal cards. One of them looked like that girl Ginny ran into on her first day. Hermione, she remembered.

“Damn, they just keep getting finer with age, don’t they?” Seamus asked.

Ginny noticed that Harry had grown oddly quiet and slack-jawed. “Are you talking about Hermione? Oooh yeah, damn! That arse is fine, am I right?” Ginny said, thinking that’s what the guys wanted to hear.

“Hey! Don’t talk about her like that! She’s not a piece of meat,” Harry said defensively.

“Whoa, sorry,” Ginny backpedalled. “You into her or something?”

Nevile and Colin both snorted in laughter as Colin said, “Only for the last three and a half years.”

Ginny looked at him. “And you haven’t made a move because…”

“She’s always had a boyfriend,” Harry sounded dejected.

“Yeah, but on the bright side, she and her college boyfriend are over now, so you’ll be able to swoop in and make a move when the time is right,” Neville reminded him.

“Why don’t you just go over and talk to her now?” Ginny was confused by their logic.

“Because she’s still upset over the break-up! Look how sad she is,” Dean sounded affronted.

“Yeah, you don’t just go over there and talk to the girl you’ve fancied forever. Especially if you don’t want to be the rebound,” Seamus agreed.

Ginny looked over at Hermione, who was now sitting at a table with her friend. Hermione happened to look up and lock eyes with her. She flashed a smile, which Ginny returned.

“Whoa, did she just smile at you?” Colin asked.

“Uh, yeah?” Ginny said.

“What the hell, man?!” Harry punched her in the shoulder.

“What? It’s common courtesy to smile back, isn’t it? I’m not trying to steal her away from you or anything.” She was surprised how defensive the guys were getting over one girl.

“Aw, what the hell is he doing?” Harry said as he shook his head in defeat.

A guy with perfectly coiffed white-blonde hair and an impeccably starched uniform slid into the seat next to Hermione. Ginny saw her face immediately sour at his presence. Ginny commiserated with Hermione, who was doing her best to be polite, even though it was clear that she wanted nothing to do with him. Been there, Ginny thought.

“Who is he?” Ginny asked.

“Draco Malfoy. The most obnoxious goody-two-shoes in our year. He’ll literally do anything to get what he wants,” Neville explained.

“Ah,” something about the blonde bloke was rubbing Ginny the wrong way.

Draco must have said the wrong thing to Hermione. No sooner had he sat down and attempted to engage her in conversation, Hermione gave him a disgusted look, got up with her friend and walked away. All the guys at Ginny’s table laughed at his failed attempt as he shot them a nasty look.

“So, who’s looking forward to the Beauxbatons game?” Ginny changed the subject.

The group eyed her. “It’s just another game. We’re going to crush them like we always do,” Harry shrugged.

“Yeah, but it’s the season opener. Personally, I think it’s rubbish that I got put on second string. I really wanted a chance to kick their arses,” Ginny complained.

“Why do you care so much?” Harry asked.

“Oh, uh, my sister goes to Beauxbatons. Michael, her prat of an ex is on the team.”

“You have a sister?” Dean asked as Ginny nodded.

“Wait, which one’s her ex?” Seamus asked.

“The goalie and team captain.”

“Oh, that twat? He picked a fight with me last year,” Harry said. “He’s a joke, honestly. Thinks he’s God’s gift to football, yet he couldn’t stop any of my goals.” All the boys laughed in agreement.

“What’d your sister see in him anyway?” Dean asked.

“Not sure. He was a prick. She’s better off without him. So, what are you going to do about Hermione? Better get a move on. Otherwise, someone else is going to tap that before you get a chance. Am I right?” Ginny waggled her eyebrows.

She thought she was reading them accurately, but all the boys just shook their heads and stood up to leave. Despite growing up with a household of brothers, Ginny was beginning to think she would never get the hang of ‘being a guy.’

It was almost midnight when Ginny decided to take a chance and head for the showers. The halls were quiet, and she hoped that since they had classes the next day, most of the guys were finally getting to sleep. Thankfully, the bathroom was blissfully empty, and Ginny sighed in relief. She started unwrapping the binder and set it on the counter as she spread her bag of toiletries and things about. Unfortunately, her solitude was short-lived.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Ginny jumped back in surprise and looked up to see the blonde-haired bloke staring incredulously at her. Thank goodness she’d kept her robe on and hadn’t taken the wig off yet.

“Excuse me?” She responded.

“Your stuff is everywhere!” he scoffed, picking up her towel between two fingers and tossing it at her.

“I...didn’t know that was a violation of anything?” Ginny retorted.

“Yes, it’s under code 31.7: Bathroom Etiquette,” he shot back.

Ginny lifted her hands in a gesture of mock defeat as she said, “Well, sorry, didn’t realize it’d be the end of the world if I spread my stuff out in a deserted bathroom.” She rolled her eyes.

“As you should be.”

She grabbed her things to go back to the room. Maybe four in the morning would be a better option. They’d all have to be asleep then, right?

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced yet. I’m Draco Malfoy, Dorm Director. It’d be best for you to stay on my good side if you know what I mean.”

Ginny could barely believe his nerve. She opened her mouth to tell him sod off when Harry walked in and overheard Draco’s warning to her. Draco didn’t hear him coming, and Harry lifted his towel and whipped Draco in the head with it. She couldn’t hide the chortle that escaped her lips.

“Leave him alone, Malferret,” Harry said. “No one cares about the rules in the dorm handbook.”

“You say that until you break one of them and get kicked out!” Malfoy defended.

Harry waved him off as Ginny said, “Well, this has been a riveting conversation, but I’ve got other places to be.”

She made a quick escape out the door as she longed for the day when she’d be able to shower when she wanted again. That night, Ginny fell into a fitful sleep filled with nightmares on the football field. Coach McGonagall called her onto the field, but she was dressed as her usual self. No, not just her normal self; she was wearing a poofy pink dress that she could barely run in, and Aunt Muriel was on the sidelines mocking her. She ultimately made a fool of herself, as everyone on both teams laughed at her.

When she woke up, she was ready to throw in the towel. None of this was worth it. She was stuck on second string, her teammates thought she was insane, and she couldn’t keep up with Ron’s coursework. Professor Flitwick could have been lecturing them in a completely different language for all she knew. She had no idea how to read music, and even after poring over the texts, she still had no idea what chords were.

Yeah, she was done. Having Ron fake an illness was the easier way to go. The twins would surely help her cover, right?

#hp muggle au #ginny weasley #she's the man inspired

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

Mr. Self Destruct 3

Part One Part Two

Warnings: Bucky’s a bastard, control, PTSD and other lovely mental issues, noncon (oral, toyplay, restraints, vaginal and anal sex)

This is dark!Bucky Barnes and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: Bucky has been left by his closest friend. With no other choice, he works for Stark Industries in the name of both Stark and Rogers but before he can begin his new position, he is mandated to attend counselling. With you, the company’s resident therapist.

Note: I’m just taking a break from Tapestry for a day or two. I wanted to finish this little series first. This is just all the kink and darkness so enjoy. Love you all.

Anyway :) Please like, reply, and/or reblog if you read.

Bucky didn’t show the next day. Even as you finished up with your last patient and waited around an hour. You laughed at yourself sardonically after you’d sat back and realized what you were waiting for. You expected to find him in your bedroom again but he wasn’t there either. He was definitely in control. Not just of the sessions, but your life.

It was the day after when he came around. Your last appointment was at three and you were free by four. You didn’t think to linger. You pulled on your jacket and grabbed your bag. You left behind your leather folder. You wanted to hide for as long as you could. Just until he came to haunt you again.

He was there in the lobby. You spotted him the moment you stepped off the elevator and he saw you too. You could tell he’d been expecting you. You tried to act as if you hadn’t seen him but there was no pretending with him. He reached the front doors before you and blocked the revolving escape. You slid to a halt on your wedged boots.

“It’s shitty out,” He said. “You need a ride?”

“No,” You glanced past him. “I’ll catch a train.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound like a question.” He chuckled. “We’ve got a stop to make before we hit your little hole.”

“And if I refuse? Huh? You gonna hit me in front of all these people? You gonna drag me out kicking and screaming?”

“I won’t have to do that.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “One minute, let me turn the sound off here.”

He flicked his finger across the screen before he turned it to you. You watched yourself on the screen, the uneven angle as the lens peeked out above a stretch of fabric; likely his pocket. It was you with your little silver bullet against your clit. The camera got closer and only your moans could be heard as the focus blurred between your bodies, the flash of his vibranium hand blocked it.

“Seems unprofessional to me,” He smirked. “I think Happy might agree. Maybe the licensing board too.”

You stared at him and reached to zip up your thick jacket. You nodded to him and pushed away his phone. “Just...let’s go.”

He leaned in as he tucked the phone away, “Good girl.” He slithered and your skin crawled.

He backed away and waved you after him. You sighed and followed as he led you to another door. This one led to the attached garage along the side of the tower. He didn’t wait but strolled decisively through it and down the steps to the tarmac. You held the rail as your boots threatened to catch on the stairs.

A dark blue car chirped as he neared it and he opened the door. He dropped inside and you pulled open the passenger side door as he turned the engine. You slipped your bag in front of the seat as you sat and shut the door with a click. He backed out of his spot before you even had a chance to do up your seat belt.

“Can I ask where we’re going?” You ventured.

“You can,” He kept one hand on the wheel as he leaned casually on the console. “But you won’t have your answer til we get there.”

You bit down and lowered your chin. He was drawing it out as long as he could. Whatever he had planned. Whatever new humiliation he had devised. And you had no choice but to bear it. To feed from the hand that would close around your throat and choke the life from you. And if that failed, it would wrought the destruction of the little you held dear.

You kept your eyes down as he drove. The city was pale and lifeless as winter descended upon the fluorescent giants. The street lights loomed over the sidewalks and the mailboxes formed little hills beneath the snowy blanket. You touched your forehead as your vision blurred. The grim vision of the urban sprawl made it all too real.

When he pulled into the small plaza, you were confused. The little convenience store that advertised the lotto jackpot and Marlboro's was nothing special and you doubted he was taking you to the small Vietnamese eatery for dinner. Your eyes found the darkened shop nestled in the corner; a red sign flashing above XXX. No way.

“Out,” He turned off the car as he reached for the door handle. “Stop dragging your ass. I’d like to be out of this shit before it’s past my ankle.”

You climbed out of the car but forgot your bag on the floor. You tucked your hands in your pockets as the flakes gathered in your hair. He rounded the front of the car and whistled to you like a dog as he marched to the tinted windows of the sex shop. You shook your head and trailed after him.

You caught the door behind him and let it close heavily. You looked around at the mannequins in lingerie, the silicon and rubber toys lined along the shelves, and the explicit covers of porno DVDs. A woman with bright red hair greeted you from behind the counter and Bucky returned her cheerful hello. You stayed quiet and followed him.

You weren’t a prude but the last time you’d been to place like this was with your ex-husband. Nothing special, some lube and a cockring for him. You had mulled over a leather garter with studs but left empty-handed. A pathetic attempt to revive a dead relationship.

Bucky grabbed a mesh basket from the stack next to the counter and led you to the wall, though he seemed to have forgotten about you. He tilted his head at the vibes and narrowed his eyes.

“I doubt you need anymore,” He scoffed.

He moved on and stopped sharply at the next display. He unhooked a leather crop and waved it through the air. He dropped it in the basket and you stared at its handle sticking out. He grabbed another item; a leather collar and matching leash, and added some straps to slip beneath a mattress.

“Bucky…” You said quietly as you grabbed the basket. “You don’t want to do this.”

He grinned and licked his bottom lip as he turned to you. “You don’t know what I want but I can show you.” His blue eyes bore into you. “You want me to deal with my control issues, this is how I deal, doc. And beneath all your repression, I know you want it. Your top drawer can’t hide it.”

You cringed and threw your hands up. “Call it therapy but it’s not that. This isn’t coping, this isn’t addressing the issue, this is feeding it. It won’t help.”

“You’re off the clock, doc,” He carried on along the shelf. “Give it up.”

You pursed your lips and shook your head. You tried to avoid looking at the toys, instead focusing on the price tags; pretended it was a grocery store or anywhere else. You looked up as he grab a set of plugs and quickly lowered your gaze again. He stopped and turned back to you.

“You wanna pick out some lube,” He still had the plugs in his hand; a kit, smallest to largest. “You’ll thank me for it later.”

He dropped them in the basket with the rest and spun back to the merchandise. You took a deep breath and glanced around. You crossed to the pyramid display of lubes; hot and cold, flavoured, scented, sensitive skin… The red-haired woman grinned at you as you peeked over at you and you smiled shyly and turned back to the oils.

“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” She asked as she neared.

“No, I… I have a sensitive ecosystem,” You offered. “Don’t really know what to pick.”

“Something water-based,” She advised as she reached to the rack. “This stuff’s good. It’s flavoured but shouldn’t cause any issues.” She smirked and looked over as Bucky scratched his head before a shelf of dildos. “Does he prefer sweets?”

“I guess,” You answered softly. “I’ll just take the strawberry. Everyone likes strawberry, right?”

“He seems open to a lot,” She commented. “You get half-off this brand with the plugs anyways.”

“Oh, thanks,” You grabbed the strawberry lube and smiled.

You parted from the nosy cashier and crossed to Bucky as he moved onto the back corner. He turned and caught your hand before you could drop the bottle in the basket. He wrestled it from your grip and read the label.

“Mmm, strawberry.” He remarked as he let it fall with the rest of his haul.

You wanted to cover your face and curl into a ball. You were mortified. He stopped before the mannequin in a strappy leather number with no real coverage. Tits out and everything else; ass framed by the thick straps. He raised his brows as he admired it.

“Find your size,” He pointed to it. “I know you’re probably more a lace woman but I think this will be...fun.”

He didn’t wait for a response. You sifted through the stack of plastic wrapped lingerie and fished out your size. You caught up to him again and he took it from you without a glance. He led you to the counter and plopped the basket on it.

The red-head began to scan each item at a time and filled a big black bag with them. Bucky tapped his gloved fingers on the counter as he waited. She smiled between you. “Special occasion?”

“You could say that,” Bucky answered.

The woman giggled and hit total. Bucky reached for his wallet and swiped his card. He seemed unfazed by the exorbitant amount he’d just spent on sex toys. He took his receipt and his bag with a smile and a thanks. He grabbed your arm and pulled you close as he led you to the door.

“Now,” He said as he pulled open the door. “We’re ready.”

Bucky grabbed your keys from you as you walked up to your door. He unlocked it with one hand and ushered you inside with a point of his finger. You entered and he was close behind. You unzipped your coat as he set the bag aside and kicked off his boots. He hung his jacket over yours and you struggled to wiggle free of your own boots.

He grabbed the bag again and urged you onward. When you reached your bedroom, his patience had worn thin. He shoved you in and closed the door with his foot. He placed the bag on your dresser and stirred through the contents. He tossed the lingerie at you and looked to the bathroom door.

“Go on, I’ll get it all ready.” He said. You didn’t wait for him to tell you twice.

You hid behind the door and stripped yourself slowly. You could hear him moving around on the other side. It took you several tries to untangle the straps and when you were certain it was correct, you stared down at your body. The straps were set in triangles around your tits and crisscrossed down to your crotch; another exposed vee. Your ass was propped up by the leather and you twisted as you tried to see it.

A rap of knuckles on the door and you swallowed. You opened it and Bucky raised a brow as he nodded over his shoulder.

“Go on.” He ordered and you stepped past him.

He grabbed the bag of toys and as you stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. He went into the bathroom and the sink cranked on. The straps had been secured, the leash was laid out, and only your bottom sheet remained on the mattress. Your head spun.

“Your ass looks great in that,” Bucky said. “Turn around.”

You turned and he looked you up and down. He neared and set his handful of toys on the night table. He stepped back and slipped his fingers beneath the straps along your shoulder. He rubbed them with his thumbs.

“Look at you, doc,” He purred. “You should start wearing this for our sessions.”

Your jaw tensed and you said nothing. He seemed amused by your visible irritation. He let go and reached for the leash strewn on the bed. He unbuckled the collar and spun back to you. You braced yourself as he wrapped it around your neck and secured it there. He tugged on the leash and you winced.

“Even better.” He let the leash hang limp and backed away as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Go on and get on your knees.”

You did as he said. You almost fell over as you did and stared at the carpet as he unzipped his fly. You listened to the rustle of his clothing. When he neared, he was entirely naked and it took all your strength to look up at him. He bent and grabbed the leashed again.

“Come on,” He pulled and you fell forward onto your hands. He snickered and led you around the room. You moved stiffly; thoroughly embarrassed. A literal dog. “It was like Pavlov. I know you’ve heard of him. They had words that they conditioned me with. Like sit.” He motioned and you lowered your ass. “Good girl.”

You trembled in anger. He wrapped the leash around his hand and pulled you closer. “Up. On your knees.” He yanked until you were almost against him. His cock bobbed before you. “Go on and get your bone, doggy.”

You glared at him and he thrust so that his cock poked you in the face. You flinched and lowered your eyes. You parted your lips and poked your tongue out to drag it along his length. You swirled around his tip and he twitched. You covered the head of his cock with your lips. His other hand went to your head and pushed you further.

He hit the back of your throat and you gagged. You barely fought it back as he forced himself deeper until your lips were against his pelvis. You reached to grip his thighs as you struggled to breathe. He relented but quickly crashed back into you. You slapped at him and clawed at his thick muscles. Your loud gulps filled your ears and added to the churning of your stomach.

He moved his hips in time with your head. He fucked your mouth steadily as his groans floated from him. He was like an animal, rutting into you faster and faster. He was fed by the noises of your distress; his power over you. Your body was his to use as they had his.

He sank as deep as he could as his thrusts slowed. He spasmed and grunted. A carnal growl. He came down your throat as your head swelled from lack of air. He held himself at his limit until he was done. He tore you off of him, your leash taut as he kept you from slumping over. His cum dripped from your lips with your spit.

He yanked you up to your feet and dragged his thumb through the mess along your chin. His hand slipped down and stretched over the collar. He unhooked the leash and let it fall to the floor. He backed you up until your knees met the bed.

He shoved you and you fell onto the bed with a bounce. He climbed up after you and pulled on you until you moved. He shoved your wrist into a restraint and secured it tightly. He did the other and then your ankles. He knelt between your legs and tweaked your nipples roughly. You whimpered and he snarled in delight.

He reached to the night stand and grabbed the bottle of lube. He squirted the cool oil between your legs and shoved his fingers down to spread it along your folds. He lifted a brow as he found you wet. He chuckled.

“Oh, doc, you can’t hide it. Not from me.” He continued to rub you and you tried not to squirm. “Maybe that’s the problem, hmm? Did you hold back with the husband? That why he left?”

You bit your lip and looked away from him.

“All you wanted to do was talk but you sure are quiet now,” He taunted and dipped his fingers inside of you.

“He held back,” You snapped. “I left him, okay?” You tried to close your legs but couldn’t move against the restraints. “Cause he didn’t wanna fuck me anymore.”

“Good riddance, then.”

He pulled his hand away and leaned over to grab the dildo he’d chosen from the bunch. It was big and thicker than any you owned. He placed it against you and slowly pushed inside. You gritted your teeth as it stretched you. He stopped as it filled you entirely and you gasped.

Slowly, he began to work it in and out of you. You gripped the straps as your body tensed and your breath hitched. He sped up as he sensed your pleasure mount. As you desperately fought against it. As the moans escaped you and betrayed you to him. Soon, he was slamming the dildo into you as your voice rose without thought.

You came with a curse. You squeezed your eyes shut but could sense his satisfaction. He gloated as he continued to fuck you with the toy. The squelching filled the room and your head. He stopped and let the toy slip out on its own.

“When you did fuck,” The bed shifted as he spoke. “Was it boring? Did he even try?”

“I… Early on, he did. And then, I guess he just didn’t care so long as he came.” You said quietly.

You’d never told anyone the true troubles of your marriage. You’d fed them all the excuse of too much time apart for work and too many differences. It was all true but the lack of intimacy was the worst of it.

“And did you ever…” He paused and you opened your eyes. He held up a plug and your mouth fell open. “Try anything… new?”

“No,” You said as you eyed the toy. “No, please, I never…”

“We’re starting small,” He coaxed. “Tell me you didn’t divorce that moron to fuck yourself with that pathetic bullet every night.”

You stayed quiet as he undid your binds one at a time. He turned you over and you didn’t offer much resistance. Couldn’t. He was too strong. As he strapped you down on your stomach, you raised your head.

“Are you… recording this too?” You asked as you tried to look at him behind you.

“If I am, it’ll be for my own pleasure,” He assured you. “But I already have more than enough footage, doc.”

Your dropped your head back to the mattress and huffed. His knees pressed against you thighs and a cool trickle seeped between your cheeks. He spread it with his metal fingers and circle your tight ring. It tickled and you flinched. He pushed against your hole and slowly his finger stretched you.

He drew his finger in and out several times as you hissed. It hurt but it wasn’t an unbearable pain. Something about it was delicious and you hungered for more. He shoved another finger inside and you dug your nails into the sheet. You grunted as he played with you.

He pulled out and for a moment, silence. The cap of the lube flicked and you felt a new pressure against your ring. Harder, colder. He pushed the plug in little by little. You whined until he had it in entirely and your ring closed around the stem. You head lolled back and forth as you moaned.

“I always knew you were a tight ass, doc,” He slapped your ass with his metal hand and you yelped.

You felt the straps slacken around your ankles and he lifted your hips. He pushed his thighs under yours and his cock poked along your vee. He reached between your legs and rubbed his tip against your folds. He entered you easily. Your walls welcomed him as he sank into you completely.

“Doc, my god,” He groaned. “Shit. He missed out, didn’t he?”

He thrust and you moaned. He did it again and you moaned. Again. Each time he did it, you couldn’t hold back. You couldn’t stifle the sheer pleasure of being so full. And then he wiggled the plug as he fucked you. You’d never felt anything so intense.

The sparks began to spit from your core and seared along your flesh. With each rock of his hips, you grew louder and his hips moved faster. Your back arched as he continued to toy with the plug inside you and his other hand slid down your back. He spread his fingers across your back and held you down.

He pulled the plug out and you gasped. He was quick to fumble around and grab another. He pushed inside and you let out a series of pathetic mewls. It was bigger than the last. You slowly adjusted to it though it hurt all the same.

He grunted with each plunge. Your panting mingled with his and your bodies sang a carnal tune. You could hear it all; the friction, the wetness, the sheer animalism. You came again but couldn’t even cry out as your eyes rolled back. You drooled onto the sheet as the bed jolted below you.

He came too. And he didn’t pull out. You didn’t care as the ripples washed over you. He slowed and exhaled loudly as he leaned back on his heels. He slapped your ass again as he pulled out. His cum leaked from you.

He backed up and dropped your hips back to the bed. He took the dildo and lined it up with your entrance. He slammed it into you and you yiped. He held it there and grabbed the end of the plug with his other hand. Slowly, he slipped it out of you as your ring stretched around it. The emptiness was both a relief and a disappointment.

And then he pulled the dildo out too. He lined himself up with your hole and you tugged at your binds. “No, no…” You whispered. “Please. It’s too much.”

He stretched you around his tip as he ignored your pleas. He pulled back and pushed back in. He repeated the motion several times, each time, pushing further in. He sank down entirely as he spread his body over yours and you exclaimed. Your eyes were singed by sudden tears.

“Bucky!” You cried. “Jesus fuck, get off of me.”

“Shhh.” He covered your mouth with his hand as he reached out with his other arm. “We both know you want this. You want to be controlled.”

He thrust and you squealed into his hand. His other snaked beneath you and you heard a click. The bullet buzzed against your stomach as he slid it lower. He pressed it to your bud as he ground against you. The vibrations flowed through you. His groans trickled through your veins like venom.

He held the vibe to you with his hand, his other clasped over your lips. You breathed frantically as he sped up. You closed your eyes as you body shook against your will. You came violently. The pure pleasure intertwined with an agony so sweet. You shuddered beneath him and it fed his fervour.

He removed his hand from your mouth and pulled his arm from beneath you. He left the bullet to roll beneath you, still buzzing. He planted his hands on either side of you and lifted his pelvis and slammed back into you. He did it over and over again, his flesh slapping loudly against yours. The pain reverberated through you.

He snarled and hissed. He balled the sheet up in his fist as his other went to your head. He pulled your head up and whispered in your ear. “This is what it felt like. I hated it and loved it all the same.”

He grabbed the back of your collar and curled your back as he dropped his hips. He fucked you into the mattress as the leather grew tighter and you gasped for breath. And you felt him cum. The current of warmth within was soothing. He slowed and rested his weight over you. He exhaled in your ear as he unhooked his fingers from the collar and stayed inside of you.

“Gee, doc,” He breathed. “I feel a lot better now.” He rolled his hips and you murmured. “A lot lighter.”

END

#mr self destruct #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #mcu #marvel #fic #short series #series #au #captain america

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psicostyles · 4 years ago

Text

The one where I get to know you

This might be a sequel since I don’t have a script or ideas to continue yet, but who knows?? This is a draft I found lost on my phone and tumblr and kinda liked the way I used to think when younger. Let me know what you think anyways

It’s not like I hated him.

We just don’t get along. I met Harry - the guy I don’t hate - a few months ago.

We were at a pool party of a friend we have in common. They though we would like each other right ahead since we have “similar taste” according to them. Alright.

We started to chat about nothing in the corner of the pool and I felt a little bored, to be honest. He is a nice guy, don’t get me wrong. But not for me. We haven’t spoken since that. And well, I’m still good this way, thank you.

But let me tell you what happened. The same friend who threw that party is now hosting a baby shower because guess what? She’s pregnant. Well, that was kinda obvious I guess.

Back to the point.

I’m here talking to myself in the same spot we chat the last time we saw each other, about a story who I rather forgot because I got nothing better to do…

"Hey,"

I look up, seeing a tall man holding two drinks.

"Oh, hey" I answered back.

"I don’t know if you remember me…“ he said reluctantly "I’m Ha…”

"Harry," I said interrupting him “yes, I remember you"

He smiles nodding at me, sitting by my side afterwards.

"Here, I brought you a beer” I murmur a silent thank you, and drink my beverage.

He still sits there, moving his leg inside the water with his beer in his hand looking from one side to another. And I stare at him.

I’m about to say something when Kendra - my pregnant friend - walks from God knows where with her husband by her side holding hands with a massive smile on their faces. They are in the middle of the yard with a massive box in front of them.

"Thank you so much for being here today" she started “it’s a very special day for us, not only because it’s our baby’s shower…but because we are about to found out our baby gender” everyone starts to clap exited.

Even though this gender things it’s super cliche and way too inappropriate, even for a unborn baby, it’s their day! Not mine. So I clap along, because either way I’m also happy. And I don’t need to be a brat about it. I can have a conversation with them in a near future about this whole thing, can’t I?

"Let’s do this," said Alex, the husband.

3,2,1…

The box was opened and pink balloons were floating in the air. Classic.

Oops, I mean, yay.

Everyone started to clapping and cheering, and so do I.

I get up and go hug them - trying not to soke them with my wet legs, and congratulate my friend. Then she started to speaking again.

"Enjoying the situation, Alex and I wants to request something from my friends over here. Can you come here, Harry?“

Harry got up from the ground - also a little wet, and came to where we were.

"Well… Y/N, you know, we’ve been friends for awhile now” Said Kendra “and you’ve been with me through my ups and downs, you are really important to me"

"And Harry,” she said facing him “Although we know you not so long, you became our best friend, our personal jokester and our precious baker"

Harry chuckled.

"All this speech is for actually ask you both if…” we four stared at each other. ”…you want to become our baby girl’s godparents," they said together.

Harry cheered exited hugging they both screaming yes, yes!!

I stayed frozen. Too shocked to say anything.

Meeting my failed date and being invited to become the grandparent to a child in the same day? Might be too much to handle.

Who I’m trying to deny? It’s too damn excited.

The three of them - after their hugging section - stared at me waiting for an answer.

"What do you say Y/N??“ Said Alex.

"Yes” I finally answered “I will be her godmother”

***

Like I said, Harry and I don’t get along.

We’ve been seeing each other lately on behalf of our goddaughter Nina - she’s the cutest little thing I must say.

We had a dinner at Kendra’s place the other night, with a delicious meal and a fantastic glass of wine. I might have had two or three glasses.

Nina is eight months now and I have to admit she’s too smart for age, she skipped the ‘crawling processes’ and went straight to walking. The result was me and Harry chasing her the whole night. Not that I mind, it’s nice to spend some time with him, but after five minutes you get tired and want to get rid of him. At some point, Nina got tired of walking and decided to watch Peppa Pig while she’s was peacefully laid down in her crib.

The adults kept chatting about adult stuff, Harry was sat in front of me and every now and then I feel his glare on me and when I stare back he pretends he wasn’t looking. Nina was already asleep when we decided to leave but, I don’t have a car so, add this to a credit card with no credit you will find a woman who can’t order an Uber. So now, Harry is now taking me home. Might be the excess of wine in my veins talking but in this second I wasn’t so bothered to be in this same space as him for the first time.

The traffic got us stuck in the middle of the avenue at 11pm. He had turned the radio on with music I’ve never head, but I was tipsy that I don’t really know what I was listening to. Both of us didn’t say a word since we got in the car. While he was facing the road I could watch him better, even though was dark you could notice how sharped his jaw is. Or how his hair is getting curly, or-

‘‘Are you staring at me?’‘ I face the road again without saying a word. ‘‘So...’‘ Harry says trying to break the silence ‘‘Are you free next Friday?’‘

I chuckle

‘‘Are you seriously asking me out?’‘ he looks at me confused

‘’Is that a problem?” he stares the road. I look to him surprised.

‘‘Not at all, it’s just...awkward” I said “We just started to speak again because of Nina you know... If wasn’t for that I bet you wouldn’t even remember me”.

He is the one who chuckles now. He starts to drive again and decided that silence was the best option after all. Half an hour later he parks the car in front of my house when I’m almost leaving he stops me saying:

“You know, even if it wasn’t for Nina or Kendra or whatever, I would still try to talk to you. And I respect your decision, it’s okay if you don’t want to hang out’‘ we both smile. I got off the car and he calls me again ‘‘But if you change your mind...” I roll my eyes.

‘‘Good night Styles” he smiles turning on the car and leaving.

****

Kenda asked me if I could spend the night with Nina since her and Alex wanted to spend some time together, I said yes, of course. So after work at a Friday night I’m at their place. They left around 7pm or so and since they I’m playing the babysitter with the happiest baby in the world. Nina is a very - very - excited child. She never stops. Never.

Now it’s around 8pm and I’m already tired. The thing is she loves climbing their’s stairs, from the bottom to the top, and once she get’s where she wants to start over again, and again, and again. Remember I said she learned how to walk very fast? Yeah, maybe she should have waited.

I’m in the middle of the stairs with Nina giggling when the doorbell rings. I take her with me with a pouty face, getting surprised when I answer the door

‘‘Harry?”

‘‘Nina!” he says ignoring me. Nina straightway leave the comfort of my embrace so she could have his “How you doing my love? Are you good?”

“Harry?” I try again. He looks at me “May I help you?”

He enters while I close the door. I follow him ‘til the living room where he puts Nina into her crib. He turns around and faces me with his hands inside of his jacket.

‘‘Alex called me told to come over so I could help you out’‘

‘‘Well,” I said “I appreciate but they didn’t warned me of anything”

“It was sudden” he said “Are we hungry?”

“We already ate, but thanks”

He shrugged and face Nina again.

“Who missed the nestes grandfather in the word hmm?” Nina giggles. Cheater “I heard you wanna play some more, yeah? Let’s go then”

She grabs her again and says she’s taking her upstairs to the playroom. Now I “can take some rest” according to him. Yeah, okay. Suddenly I don’t feel so tired anymore. I clean the mess we made earlier and hear the giggles from upstairs. I climb the stairs carefully and move to Nina’s room. Her door is almost closed so I give a little peek inside the room and caught Nina playing with muppets laughing with everything Harry - well the mullet Harry was playing, a frog I belive.

“Why don’t you come from behind the door and come play with us, Aunt Y/N” said Harry, the frog with a strange but yeah, actually funny voice.

And so I did. At every terrible imitation of animal he did Nina giggle like it was the funniest thing in the world, as she understood everything we said. I was playing a very badly sheep but she didn’t mind at all. A few hours later she felt asleep right when Alex and Kendra got home.

“We don’t know how to thank you guys” they said.

“Tell me he is coming next time” I thought but I kept myself quiet.

So yeah, here we are again like the last time. I did not have a drive so Harry, the saviour offered to take me home so I accepted. The silence it’s not the uncomfortable as before, most of the time we talked about Nina and how special she is. From one second to another we where at my place. Before I could get out of the car he said

“Remember last time? I asked you out and you rejected me like...Well, you rejected me” he said uma playful tone.

I got out of the car and supported myself on the window.

“Oh, well. Maybe if you ask me a second time maybe I can accept”

He smirked.

“Are you free anytime?”

I smiled at him.

“You know what? Who knows maybe at third time you convince me”

We both smiled. He left and I watched him go.

He wasn’t so bad after wall.

#harry imagine #harry styles imagine #harry one shot #harry blurb #harry styles blurb #one direction imagine #one direction blurb #harry styles #harry styles series #harry styles writing #harry writing #one drection writing #psicostyles

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cloakedandsoaked · 4 years ago

Text

Wants and Needs

[This is straight-up porn. Don’t read it if you don’t want to read porn. Contains lots of blood, a wee bit of self-harm, consensual non-consent, and probably other things I haven’t thought to warn for.]

As Dantalion threw his head back, lines of fire cutting down each side of him, his last remaining thought flickered in wonder at how he had managed to find himself here. For ‘here’ he most certainly was, covered in sweat and ichor, with a demon he'd just met leaning over him in an unfamiliar bed, to which he was tightly bound. And then the thought was gone, banished with all the others to wherever thoughts disappear to in the throes of ecstasy.

If it had stuck around, it might have elucidated for us the circumstances that had led Dantalion to this peculiar state of affairs. Indeed, it might have told first of the deep itch that had taken hold in his bones some time over the past few days, an itch to which he was all too accustomed. It came in times of stress, in times of boredom, and, sometimes, at least as far as the duke himself could tell, for no particular reason at all.

In the past, he would have ignored such an itch. Or, failing that, he might have tried to scratch it himself, though that usually didn't take very well or for very long -- and it seemed to upset Sahar, which he had no real inclination to do.

But now….

Well, he had been trying to allow himself as much of what he wanted as possible. In the aftermath of his emotional experiments, giving in to desire seemed to help quiet the hollowness, at least for a time.

And what he desired was for someone to hurt him. Properly.

Not enough, of course, to render him unfit for duty; he was needy, not insane. He just wanted someone to, y'know. Rough him up a bit. Take the edge off that grasping, cloying thirst beneath his skin that cried out for some kind of stimulation.

One of the downsides to using his physical form as a sensory muffler was that he sometimes felt too muffled, almost claustrophobic under the smothering blanket burrito of his flesh. And since he wasn't going to leave that flesh unless absolutely necessary, sometimes -- just sometimes -- he needed something to reach between the bars of his self-made prison and touch him for real.

Or, at least, as close to 'real' as it was going to get.

He'd had Sahar set up the appointment for him, even allowing her to select the practitioner. Someone discreet, secure. (Obscenely well-paid, as should be obvious.) Thankfully, she had a shortlist ready and waiting, as it had been for years. It was an old argument of theirs, and, until now, she had never convinced him to book.

With only half an hour 'til the appointment, Dantalion had quite nearly bunnied out, despite the fact that he would lose his deposit. However, he found his mind turning to Asmodeus, and his resolve pulled through. Asmodeus would be disappointed by the idea that he couldn't even visit a professional dominant without turning coward. He took a deep breath, centered himself, and flipped the switch on his nervousness.

That's right, this is supposed to be good, isn't it? The hollowness was back, and with it, the itch, and with the itch, an unsettling but not unfamiliar sort of desire. Yes, this is how it's supposed to be. No more nights spent trying to clench himself together, or worse, trying to find fulfillment in his own claws, but unable to escape his bullet train of a mind even as he bled a pool onto the floor. Straightening his back, he had left his office with a new confidence.

And that confidence held, even through the consultation. Of course, he and Master Rodger (Really? Tal had thought, ‘Rodger’ of all things?) had communicated by email the day before, so both of them knew at least some of what to expect.

Well, Tal didn't expect Master Rodger to have easily a metre on him (Not even counting the horns, stars!); that part was a surprise. And not at all an unwelcome one, Tal noted vaguely in the part of his mind that wasn't focused on maintaining his social mask. Although he knew his mask was going to slip at some point in the evening, and, indeed, that was part of the point, it didn't do to be anything less than a perfect gentlebeing outside of the scene. Manners mattered.

It helped that Master Rodger (For real, that has to be a work name, Dantalion kept thinking. And of course it was.) was warm and open, exactly the sort of person to make one want to reflect those qualities back. It rang a bell of familiarity in Tal's mind; it carried an essence of similarity to the seeping heat of Asmodeus, but much less intense, and without the sense of nervousness and... almost… violation? that always came along with it.

(Then again, he hadn't seen Asmodeus except in picture form since his experiments with the switch method, and next time, the experience might be totally different. It was hard to say. He rather hoped so! That was part of the purpose of the whole affair, after all.)

They discussed the usual necessities. Safewords, limits, aftercare, any other concerns. They settled on the classic traffic light system for safewords; no surprise there. Most of Tal's limits had been outlined in their online communication, but he reinforced a few. I'm in charge of my breathing. I'm in charge of my eye contact. Master Rodger made a point of reminding him of a limit or two of his own, including 'no kisses on the mouth', one Tal actually took quite a bit of comfort in. It wouldn't have been something he'd have listed, himself, but it was certainly not something he enjoyed most of the time.

It did, admittedly, get a bit awkward when Dantalion had to show him (for it was a tricky subject) exactly how he liked and didn't like his hair and scalp to be touched. No amount of warmth and openness could save him there. He felt as if he were on display in a way far more scandalous than was typically possible for the amount of clothing he still had on. The sensation was, if he were honest with himself, a little bit exciting, though that didn't cut through the social ticklishness of the moment.

And then they were ready, and all at once, the nervousness from before sprang again like a tiger to devour him from the inside. In what way, he wasn't sure, but he must have revealed it as they made their way to the back room, for Master Rodger laid a paw in the middle of his back (which was honestly about as low as he could reach with his paw without bending; Stars, but he's tall!), and rubbed a calming circle there. "Just like we talked about, right? Is this okay?"

Tal first tensed at the contact, then relaxed into it. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. "First time jitters. It's fine. I'm a high-strung personality. But then again, that's why I'm here." He was babbling, and he realised it. Rather than continue, he nodded at Master Rodger, who opened the door for him.

"Five minutes, and we'll start. You can put your clothes on the chair by the door on the right." It was a solid acknowledgement of Tal's stated preference that he begin the scene already in the nude, and he appreciated it. Master Rodger gave him a once-over, and then corrected: "Make it three; I really don't want you sitting in there fretting a mess."

Tal smiled sheepishly, and went on in.

Four minutes later, he was turned over one comically long thigh, face and torso resting on the edge of the great, black bed, bum in the air.

Not all went so smoothly. Only a few minutes of spanking with some sort of implement (he couldn't see what, but he knew it wasn't a paw) had him flushed and squirming, and not with the response he had most hoped to have. This would have to be rectified. "Excuse me, sir?" he ground out, tense with the sensations and his own pride.

"Yes, kitten?" He stopped what he was doing, keen to listen to whatever it was that had made Dantalion speak up now, when he had been so seemingly reserved.

Tal sighed and shifted against the thick leg that bore him up. "I mean no offense, but this is really… doing more to turn me on than to hurt me." He pinked further in embarrassment, as if the evidence of his cock was not enough to humiliate him. Dantalion was clearly more than a little pent up.

"Already asking for more, eh? Greedy." He ran a single claw up Tal's spine, with just enough pressure to be felt. "I like it."

Tal shuddered at the implication on his skin, and his ears pricked as he heard a rustling noise. The anticipation was almost overwhelming as he waited, breathless, for the dom's next move. He wasn't expecting gentleness.

However, that's exactly what he received; a velveted paw soothed small circles on his arse, coaxing out the too-small sting that had gathered there. Dantalion made a strangled noise between a sigh and a growl, and ground his hips up into the Master's leg.

"You have permission to ask me for 'more' any time you like. Understood, kitten?"

Dantalion twisted his face into the bed until his neck was crooked and only his mouth peeked out. This is torture! Fuck, it can't have even been fifteen minutes yet. "Yes, sir," he sighed, unsure whether either of them had really understood the point of this whole endeavor.

Crack!

Tal arched off the bed, more in shock than pain, though the pain hit him a half-second later, and he welcomed it with a soft moan as he collapsed back down. The moan was cut off with another stroke, followed by three in rapid succession. "Fuck," he hissed, hands scrambling to find purchase on the tight-laid bedsheets.

"Color?"

"Green, sir!" Tal's eyes ghosted closed as another short rain of blows fell with an unrelenting sting that had him panting again in seconds. This time, it was the proper kind of panting; the last thing on his mind was his cock. He spat a few choice swears into the bed, only just managing to 'be good' and stay in place on Master Rodger's knee. Not that he wanted to get away; far from it! But much longer, he knew, and his body would cease to obey him as he gave into the sensation. Tal was a writher.

Seeming to sense this, Master Rodger put a heavy paw between Tal's shoulders, not pushing, but steadying, guiding him back into place. The contact appeared to seep some of the rising tension from Tal's frame, and Master Rodger purred a few words of praise at the quick response.

Tal whimpered lightly at the regard, and was rewarded with a new rhythm of slaps, slow but unceasing and a little heavier than before. His mind began to fog with the first strands of that most pleasant of dizzinesses, and he knew he had to act quickly if he wanted to ask: "Sir, please," he breathed.

"Mn?"

"What in the name of good glorious fuck are you hitting me with?" he asked, voice giddy and a little awestruck. He wasn't gone yet, but he was too far gone to worry about sounding as easy as he truly was, which was a mercy.

Master Rodger chuckled softly, but didn't cease in his work. "Tawse. You said it was a favorite, mn?"

The answer surprised Tal, almost enough to bring him out of his happy place and into a realm more intellectual. Instead, he burst out giggling. He'd never had a tawse used on him over the knee before; it was just impractical for people with an average arm and thigh length to use with any real efficiency. Gods, did Sahar hit the mark with this one.

"Yes, sir," he eventually remembered to reply through the laughter.

"You're making me wonder if I'm hitting you hard enough, there, kitten." The Master's voice was light, but contained a genuine query.

"More please, sir!" Tal chirruped, despite the fact that his tremulous body had already begun to imitate the vibrations of a washing machine on spin.

---------------------------------------------

And now, some fifty minutes later, Dantalion had lost his last thought to the claws of Master Rodger. His back was an utter ruin, stuck to the bedsheets with thick, black ichor. He had been flipped at some point, though he didn't have the presence of mind to remember how long ago. Everything was pain and the way his body gloried in it, trembling between the impulse to flee the aversion, and a hunger for more of the sensation lying beneath.

Every few moments, the former would win out, and, whimpering, he would recoil from the agony of claws ripping at the skin over his ribs. But then would come a hushed, encouraging word from the Master, perhaps a soft kiss to the jaw or a tug of hair, and the battle would shift once more in his favor.

This addling metre went on for some time, each pass pulling Dantalion deeper into the whistling throb of his flesh, a flesh which felt more expansive with each shuddered breath. He was crying in earnest, now, whether or not he realised it, and the ends of his hair were coated in the same blood that soaked the bed. Bloody too were his lips, which he had bitten nearly through in places, struggling to process the sensations happening in his body.

Master Rodger would rouse him to reality occasionally, just long enough to get a color from him (always a confident 'green'), but otherwise, Tal was lost.

Lost until he felt an unexpected sensation amidst the singing of his nerves.

He jerked his head up, and looked down through gummy eyelashes to see a rather intense-looking Master Rodger between his legs, one paw stroking Tal's cock. He hadn't even noticed he was hard again (or, perhaps, still), and wasn't that something? The absurdity of the situation overcame him, and he leveled a thoroughly poleaxed look at the dom, tear-reddened eyes awash with bewilderment at the change in circumstance.

Master Rodger took the reaction in his stride, pausing to soothe at Tal's lower belly, which had been left untouched by the methodical mauling of before. "You're okay, kitten. It's alright. You've done so well for me. I'm going to give you a little reward; does that sound good?"

It would be a lie to say the words didn't go directly to Tal's cock, nearly bypassing his mind altogether, as it was still quite muddled. But he managed to nod and mumble something that must have been an understandable affirmative, for Master Rodger resumed stroking him. (Lost to him for the moment was the fact that this had always been part of their plan; the pawjob wasn't meant to have been a surprise.)

The changeover in sensation was its own kind of violence, disrupting the settled flow of back-and-forth between too much and just enough that had categorised the previous stage of the scene for Dantalion. Now, there was no 'too much'; though the tacky sheets clung to the wounds of his back as if with tar, and his whole torso clamoured at him every time he tensed, none of it compared to the incandescence of a laceration in progress. And the pleasure he now felt was of a totally different stripe, tapping into a need less potent, but which he was still all too eager to have filled.

Speaking of being filled -- When Master Rodger was certain he had navigated the change, he allowed Dantalion a moment of respite while he fiddled around with something off to the side. Tal heard the tell-tale click of a lube pump (for what he now realised must be the second time, though the first had been lost in the fog), and had only a second to prepare before something chilled slicked at his entrance.

He tensed automatically, and before he could loosen again, Master Rodger was on the case. "Shh-shh, relax your body for me. Nice and easy. That's a good kitten." He placed a gentle kiss inside Tal's thigh, and his cock twitched in response, both to the praise and the kiss.

The Master slid a wedged cushion beneath his arse, propping him up for better access. It put a strain on his back and legs, and made him feel even more vulnerable than the restraints themselves. Too, it forced his balance backward onto his upper back, pressing his wounds all the more heavily into the bed.

However, something soon distracted him from all of that. A cool pressure captured his attention as the Master began sliding something into him. He had a silent thought of thanksgiving that the dom had listened and furthermore believed him when he had outlined that he required no preparation; the one-two-three fingers game was aggravating at the best of times for one who controlled the tension and dimensions of his own arsehole, and downright torturous at the worst, when all he wanted was a solid pounding. Now was quickly turning into one of the latter times, so it was especially lovely to just get on with things. (Besides, he was pretty sure that that precise configuration of prep was mostly for bad fanfiction, anyway.)

Master Rodger did seem to be taking his time, though. Dantalion wiggled mutinously, fighting for purchase against his restraints. The wedge kept him too off balance to do anything of use, however. "Please."

The Master resumed his pacifying noises, but also the stroking of Tal's cock, which at least put an end to the squirming. And, soon enough, the toy was inserted to its full length. "Sir, please," Tal huffed, kicking one of his legs down against the bed with the little range of motion he had. The not-quite-burn of the stretch inside him was tantalising, but nowhere near the spark-like bursts of pleasure that would come with active thrusting. He did have to give the Master credit, though; the 'little' reward was not nearly as small as he had implied.

"That's beautiful," Master Rodger reckoned. "Keep begging, kitten. Let me know how much you need it."

"Need it." Tal echoed, still too drunk on himself to look for new words. "Please, sir! Please-please-please." In vain he tried to grind down on the toy, and his failure brought to him a mind-clearing sort of panic. "Fuck, sir, please! Fuck me, I can't--" He cut off with a gasp as the toy was pulled out quickly and rammed home again with force.

And it didn't stop there; the Master set a dazzling rhythm with both toy and paw which immediately had Tal arching his ravaged back. Nor did the begging stop but for the brief moment of the gasp; Dantalion resumed pleading as soon as he caught his breath, babblish and inane though it soon turned. Nor did the panic stop, for now there seemed to him something he needed more than he had needed the toy, something hidden in the glowing heat that built in his lower body.

After a few minutes, that heat coalesced into something real and attainable -- the prize was in reach -- and Tal's begging turned to hoarse moans. Then everything went silent except for the slicking sounds of the Master's ministrations, and Dantalion came white strands upon his own stomach. He held his breath for a few short seconds, then slumped, panting and sated.

Master Rodger trilled his approval in soft, sweet words, and removed the toy. Still (and his eye took on an evil gleam), he had no plan to stop stroking Tal's cock. A fact which Tal realised all too quickly, as the sensations morphed from pleasure to acute aversion. "Oh, no," he murmured.

"Oh, yes, kitten," the Master replied lightly. "Hang on tight."

"Oh, no." He was already so wrung out! What did this fucker expect from him?! "Fuck-- No, no, no, no, no!" Tal writhed, trying in earnest to escape the Master's hands, both of which were working him with a fervor. The tears were back in an instant as he thrashed about, seeking relief. He twisted his face into the side of his arm and bit deeply -- anything to distract from the shock of overstimulation.

"Color!" Master Rodger demanded.

It took about five seconds for Dantalion to wage the war on himself, to persuade himself to accept what it was he truly wanted in this moment. "Gree-hee-heen!" he then sobbed, stripped of the pretense that this was anything other than exactly what he had asked for and needed. The admission hurt nearly as much as, or perhaps more than, the electric sensation between his legs. His pride was broken as he lay keening and twisting atop the bed.

But, as all things do, it eventually ended. There was a sensory stillness in the aftermath that couldn't be stirred even by the damage to his torso; it was as if thick cotton had been shoved into the ears of his skin. He vaguely noted that the Master was speaking to him in a kind and mellow voice as he undid the restraints and massaged at the corresponding joints. What words were said, he did not perceive and likely couldn't comprehend if he did.

However, he knew that he had explained as much in their orientation. There was no harm now in drifting. He gave a casual thumbs up, turned onto his side, and curled into the fetal position -- where he stayed for nearly half an hour. Everything was so soft in this place, so fuzzy and self-contained. It couldn’t even be called a ‘happy place’, because happiness required more awareness than Tal could currently muster, or would desire to. But it was peaceful, and that was all he had truly wanted.

Eventually he did get up, though. As his sensory processing came back up to snuff, he was more inclined to move, to speak, to listen. For a while, Master Rodger held him, and they chatted about the ups and downs of the scene while drinking water. When they were both sure of Tal's steadiness, the Master helped dress his wounds, at least insofar as they really required it. Just something to keep the blood in until they healed of their own accord. Tal gave it two days. Four, max, for a couple of the nastiest ones.

When all was said and done, Dantalion returned to his office feeling like a new demon. Now he could really concentrate on work. But first he would have to order three very special gift baskets: one for Master Rodger, one for Asmodeus, and (the reason he would be ordering them himself and not delegating,) one especially nice one for Sahar.

#tales from the library #sahar #master rodger #(not sure why i'm tagging for him but who knows.)#(he MIGHT come back)

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