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goldfades · 3 months ago

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i don't believe in god, but i believe that you're my savior; my mom says that she's worried, but i'm covered in this favor; and when we're getting dirty, i forget all that is wrong───PAIGE BUECKERS

⟢ �� 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | she was the kind of girl who lit up rooms and wrecked worlds in the same breath—a gravity too intense to resist. you’d sworn off falling, but the first time she laughed, smoke curling from her lips like an invitation to a wildfire, you were already in freefall. between stolen touches and reckless nights, you wonder if paige is your salvation or your undoing—or maybe a bit of both.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | whoo, where do i begin? very angsty (but with a happy ending!), A LOT OF religious trauma, biblical allusions, descriptions of internalized homophobia, um... idk what else?

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | okay i wanna preface this by saying... this is NOT a realistic reflection of paige because i know she is religious (i am too) but for the sake of this fic, it's just not a direct correlation. ANYWAY, i got this fic request a couple hours ago and this has been in my drafts for a while, and it's for sailor song so i decided just to mix the two. but fair warning; this is VERY self-indulgent, like super... but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless!

It started with her laugh.

Low, sharp, intoxicating—like she knew something you didn’t, and the knowing was half the fun. The sound carried through the room, brushing against your skin, leaving a warmth behind that didn’t quite fade.

You hadn’t meant to look. It was a casual glance, a passive observation of the crowd gathered in the dim light of some off-campus house party. But there she was, Paige, head tilted back, blonde hair loose and gleaming like spun gold in the chaos of flashing lights. Beautiful didn’t quite cover it. She was an image that felt ripped straight from a psalm—crafted by hands too divine to belong to this earth.

You told yourself to look away. But it was like trying to pull your gaze from the altar during a prayer; you knew better, but you stayed. Her presence burned, the kind of flame you’d always been taught to fear. And yet, the yearning rose in you like a hymn.

She held a vape pen in one hand, her other resting lazily against the kitchen counter. When she brought it to her lips and exhaled, the plume of smoke rose like incense, curling toward the low ceiling. It wasn’t just a casual gesture—it was deliberate, a communion, and you felt the weight of her gaze as she caught you staring. Her eyes—blue like stained glass on a Sunday morning—locked with yours, and in that instant, you swore she saw straight through you. Every doubt. Every prayer you’d whispered to keep yourself in line.

Your chest tightened. It felt less like a chance meeting and more like a test. A temptation. You wanted to pass. You wanted to fail.

Her smirk formed slowly, a deliberate curve of her lips that made your breath catch. She waved the pen in a lazy arc, motioning you over. Something inside you—rebellion, recklessness, or maybe just exhaustion—told you to move. So you did.

Every step toward her felt like crossing a line you’d drawn for yourself long ago. The room blurred, fading into irrelevance as you neared. She was all you could see, every detail sharper and brighter than it had any right to be. Her hoodie hung loose on her frame, the strings unevenly tugged. Her nails, painted the softest blush, tapped rhythmically against the counter.

“You always stare like that?” she asked, voice low but cutting through the din around you. Her tone was casual, but her eyes… they were anything but. They pinned you in place, unrelenting.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you fumbled for an answer. “No. I mean—sorry, I wasn’t—”

“Relax.” She leaned in, close enough that you could smell the faint mix of mint and something sweeter. “I don’t bite.” A pause, her grin widening. “Not unless you want me to.”

Your laugh came out shaky, a poor attempt at deflecting the rising tension in your chest. “Do you always talk like this?”

“Only when I’m interested.” The words landed heavy, like a confession in a darkened booth. Paige tilted her head, studying you. “What’s your name?”

You told her, and the way she repeated it back made it sound different—softer, like she was testing the weight of it in her mouth. She offered her hand, the gesture disarmingly formal. When your fingers touched, the spark was immediate, electric. You wondered if she felt it too.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, her grip firm but unhurried, like she had all the time in the world to unravel you.

You didn’t have all the time in the world. That was the problem. Years of sermons and Bible studies echoed in your mind like a chorus of warnings. Narrow is the road, straight is the gate, and you were barreling down the wide, crooked path without a second thought.

“So,” Paige said, pulling you back to the present, “you drink, or are you just here for the vibes?”

“I don’t drink.” The answer came automatic, instinctive, a remnant of the rules you hadn’t yet shaken off. Paige arched an eyebrow, intrigued but not mocking.

“Interesting.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping. “Guess I’ll have to figure out what your vice is.”

The air between you felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. You tried to speak, to say anything that would keep you grounded, but nothing came. All you could do was stand there, caught in the pull of her presence.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing her vape from the counter and motioning for you to follow her. “Let’s get out of here. It’s too loud.”

You hesitated, the weight of invisible judgment pressing against you. But then she smiled—soft, earnest, utterly disarming—and the resistance crumbled. It felt wrong, undeniably so. But it also felt like freedom.

So you followed.

The night air hit you like a baptism, cool and sobering after the crowded haze of the party. Paige walked ahead of you, her hands shoved into her hoodie pockets, her steps unhurried. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure you were still there, flashing you a smile that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

You kept a few paces behind, your mind a storm of contradictions. Everything about this felt dangerous, like stepping into a story you’d been warned against since you were a child. But there was something magnetic about her, something that made you ignore the small, insistent voice in the back of your head telling you to turn back. She moved like she owned the night, and for a moment, you wondered if maybe she did.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice a little too high, a little too thin.

“Someplace quiet,” she said, not turning around. “Don’t worry, I’m not a serial killer.”

“That’s exactly what a serial killer would say.”

She laughed, and it was soft this time, less sharp-edged than before. “Fair point. But I think you’re safe with me. Trust me?”

You didn’t answer, but the fact that you kept walking was its own reply. Paige led you down a winding street lined with trees, the leaves whispering in the breeze like they were in on some divine secret. You felt like a lamb being led away from the flock, the shepherd nowhere in sight. But instead of fear, all you felt was the thrill of it—the breaking of the rules, the stepping out of bounds.

Eventually, she stopped in front of a small park, deserted except for a few streetlights casting pale pools of light over the benches. She sat on one of them, her legs sprawled out casually, and gestured for you to join her.

You hesitated for a fraction of a second before sitting, careful to leave a polite amount of space between you. Paige noticed and smirked, shifting slightly so your knees almost touched. The proximity made your pulse quicken.

“Relax,” she said, pulling the vape pen out of her pocket and twirling it between her fingers. “I don’t bite, remember?”

You tried to smile, but it felt stiff, unnatural. “Not unless I want you to, right?”

Paige’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Exactly. You’re catching on.” She brought the vape to her lips, taking a long drag before exhaling. The smoke curled lazily in the air, illuminated by the glow of the streetlight. She tilted her head, studying you. “So, what’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah. You’re giving off… I don’t know. Saintly vibes.” Her tone was teasing, but there was genuine curiosity in her eyes. “Like you stepped out of some Catholic school choir.”

You stiffened, the words hitting closer to home than she could’ve known. “I… grew up religious.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Religious, huh? Like, church every Sunday, Bible verses on the fridge, all that?”

You nodded, a tightness creeping into your chest. “Pretty much.”

She leaned back, her expression unreadable. “And now?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t a question you liked answering, mostly because you didn’t know the answer yourself. “Now… I don’t know. I guess I’m figuring it out.”

Paige nodded slowly, her gaze softening. “That’s fair. Takes time to unlearn all that, right?”

The word unlearn felt heavy, like it carried a weight you weren’t ready to unpack. You looked down at your hands, suddenly unsure of what to do with them. “Something like that.”

For a moment, the only sound was the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of traffic. Then Paige spoke, her voice quieter this time. “You know, I used to go to church too.”

Your head snapped up, surprise flickering across your face. “You did?”

She nodded, exhaling another plume of smoke. “Yeah. My grandma made me go. Every Sunday, no exceptions. I hated it back then. All the rules, all the guilt… it was suffocating.” She paused, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. “But now, I don’t know. Sometimes I miss it.”

“Miss it?” The idea seemed foreign, almost impossible. “Why?”

Paige shrugged. “I guess… it was nice, believing in something bigger than yourself. Feeling like someone up there gave a damn about you.” She looked at you, her eyes searching. “You ever feel like that?”

You wanted to say no, wanted to deny it outright. But the truth was, you had felt that once. Before the doubts, before the questions, before the endless weight of trying to reconcile who you were with who you were supposed to be. You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. “I don’t know.”

Paige nodded, as if she understood. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty damn interesting. Religious trauma and all.” She grinned, her teasing tone returning. “Maybe I’ll save you.”

The words hung in the air, light and joking, but they hit you harder than you cared to admit. You looked at her, the girl who seemed to embody everything you’d been taught to fear, and wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was right.

And that’s how this whole thing began—the beginning of the end.

It wasn’t a relationship, not exactly. It wasn’t even a proper friendship. You weren’t sure what to call it. Some blurry, undefined space where your worlds collided—recklessly, beautifully, disastrously. Paige would text you late at night, a simple you up? and before you even had time to think, you’d find yourself in her orbit again. Her dorm, a parked car, that same park bench. The locations changed, but the pattern didn’t.

She kissed like she had something to prove, like she knew exactly what you wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it. And God, did you let her take it. Every time. Every brush of her lips, every tug at the edges of your carefully constructed world, it left you breathless. Empty. Full. You couldn’t tell anymore.

You told yourself it was just physical—nothing more than a release. But that was a lie, and you both knew it. Especially when she’d pull away and rest her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your cheek, her voice soft in the stillness.

“You okay?” she’d ask, her tone full of something that felt too much like care.

You’d nod, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Fine. That was another lie. You weren’t fine. You were far from it. Every time you left her, slipping back into the quiet safety of your own bed, you could feel the guilt clawing at your chest like a living thing. It whispered in your ear, cruel and relentless, reminding you of every rule you were breaking, every promise you were shattering.

But the worst part? You reveled in it. There was a twisted kind of freedom in the guilt, like stepping into a storm and letting it drench you. It was messy and terrifying and so far removed from the pristine, polished version of yourself you’d been raised to be. With Paige, you weren’t the good girl anymore. You weren’t the dutiful daughter or the pious believer. You were raw, unfiltered, unapologetically human. And you hated how much you loved it.

┈┈┈

One night, after another one of those late-night texts, you found yourself sprawled on Paige’s bed, your head resting against her chest as her fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm. The room smelled faintly of her lavender laundry detergent and the minty vape she always carried. It should’ve been calming, but it wasn’t. Not tonight.

“You’re quiet,” she said, her voice cutting through the silence. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You hesitated, biting the inside of your cheek. “Nothing. Just tired.”

“Liar.” Her fingers paused, and she tilted her head to look at you. “You’ve got that look again.”

“What look?”

“That I’m feeling guilty as hell but too stubborn to admit it look.”

Her words hit too close to home, and you shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She sighed, her hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was too tender, too intimate. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You closed your eyes, the weight of her gaze almost too much to bear. “I don’t think you’d understand.”

“Try me.”

The room felt heavy, the air thick with unspoken words. You didn’t want to say it, but the truth was clawing its way out, demanding to be heard. “I just… I can’t stop feeling like this is wrong. Like I’m wrong.”

Paige stiffened beneath you, the softness in her expression giving way to something sharper. “Wrong? What does that even mean?”

You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest. “It means this. Us. Everything. It’s not… it’s not what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Says who?” Her voice was steady, but there was an edge to it now, a defensiveness you’d never heard before.

You looked at her, your throat tightening. “Everyone. My parents. My pastor. God.”

The word hung between you like a curse, and Paige let out a bitter laugh, sitting up as well. “God? Really? You think God’s sitting up there, keeping score of who you kiss?”

“It’s not just that,” you said, your voice cracking. “It’s everything. The lying, the sneaking around, the… the way I feel about you. It’s too much.”

Paige’s jaw tightened, but instead of the defensiveness you expected, she exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing. “Look, I might not be the most religious,” she began, her voice steady but gentle, “but I don’t think God’s sitting up there keeping some cosmic tally of who you kiss or how you feel. That’s not love. That’s control.”

Her words made you flinch, and she reached out, her hand brushing yours lightly before pulling back. “You grew up being told He’s this all-powerful, all-knowing being, right? So, if He’s that big, that perfect, then don’t you think He’s got room for you, too? For… this?” She gestured between the two of you, her voice softening. “I mean, if God is love, doesn’t that include the kind you feel for me?”

Your throat tightened, and you felt the tears coming before you could stop them. Paige saw, but she didn’t shy away. Instead, she leaned in, her voice dropping even lower, like she was sharing a secret just for you. “You’re not broken. You’re not wrong. And you sure as hell don’t need saving. Not from me. Not from anyone.”

For a fleeting moment, the knot in your chest loosened. Paige’s words were like a salve, soothing the ache you’d carried for so long. She made it sound so simple—love as something pure and whole, untainted by judgment or shame. You wanted to believe her. God, you wanted to.

And for a moment, you did. You let yourself lean into her warmth, let yourself imagine a version of this where you could breathe freely, unburdened by guilt. But it didn’t last. The weight of your upbringing—the sermons, the warnings, the whispered prayers for deliverance—settled back over you like a heavy cloak.

“Maybe you’re right,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “Maybe God doesn’t care. But I do.”

Paige frowned, her brows furrowing. “Why?”

“Because it’s not just about Him,” you said, your hands clutching your knees tightly. “It’s about everything. My parents. My community. The person I’ve spent my whole life trying to be.”

Her face softened, and she reached for your hand again, her grip firm and grounding. “But what about the person you are? The one sitting right here, right now?”

You couldn’t answer. Or maybe you didn’t want to. The truth felt too raw, too messy to say out loud.

Paige sighed, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Look, I get that this is complicated for you. But you deserve to love and be loved without feeling like you’re doing something wrong. And if no one’s ever told you that before, then I’m telling you now.”

Her words lingered, wrapping around you like a safety net. You wanted to fall into it, to let her catch you. But the ground beneath you still felt too shaky, too uncertain.

So you stayed quiet, letting her hold your hand while the silence stretched between you. It wasn’t resolution, but it was something. And for now, that was all you could handle.

Over the weeks that followed, something began to shift. Paige didn’t press you, didn’t demand answers you weren’t ready to give. Instead, she stayed patient, like she understood the weight you carried better than anyone ever had. She didn’t push you to talk about your guilt, but she made space for you when you did. Slowly, you began to let her in.

It started small. A whispered confession in the quiet of her dorm. A memory shared over takeout cartons and late-night reruns of shows you’d never admit to liking. The walls you’d spent years building began to crumble, piece by piece, under her steady gaze and unflinching kindness.

One night, as you lay sprawled on her couch, the conversation wandered back to the topic you’d both been skirting around for days.

“Do you ever think about leaving it all behind?” Paige asked, her voice soft but curious.

“Leaving what behind?”

She tilted her head toward you. “The guilt. The rules. The version of yourself you’re so scared to let go of.”

You didn’t answer right away. You traced the pattern of the couch cushion beneath your fingers, searching for words that wouldn’t come. Finally, you sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know,” she said. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be as complicated as you think.”

The conversation stuck with you. Paige didn’t have all the answers, but she had a way of making you feel like you could find them yourself. She challenged you to ask questions you’d spent years avoiding, to rethink the parts of your faith that had been weaponized against you.

“I don’t think you have to throw it all away,” she said one night, her voice careful, deliberate. “Your faith, I mean. Maybe it just needs to look different. More… you. I never left that religious part of my life, I just... made it more me.”

You didn’t know what that meant yet, but the idea of redefining your faith—of making it your own—felt like a spark in the darkness.

For the first time in years, you began to feel something that resembled peace. There were moments, fleeting but powerful, where you allowed yourself to be happy without questioning if you deserved it. Moments when Paige’s laugh lit up a room, and you couldn’t help but laugh with her. Moments when she kissed you, and the world went quiet, and the only thing that mattered was her hands in your hair and her breath against your skin.

It wasn’t perfect. The guilt didn’t disappear overnight. It still crept in, especially when you were alone, whispering that you were wrong, broken, sinful. But it didn’t consume you the way it used to.

Because now, there was something stronger than the guilt. There was Paige. And there was you. The version of you she saw—the one who deserved love, who could rewrite the rules, who didn’t have to apologize for existing.

And maybe, just maybe, that version of you was worth believing in.

Falling in love with Paige wasn’t a dramatic, earth-shattering event. It wasn’t fireworks or grand declarations or sudden epiphanies. It was quieter than that, gentler. Like the tide rolling in, it happened so naturally, so effortlessly, that you didn’t even realize it was happening until you were already submerged.

It was in the small things—the way she’d instinctively hold your hand during a scary part of a movie, her thumb drawing lazy circles on your skin. The way she always knew when you needed space and when you needed her closer, as if she could read the thoughts you couldn’t put into words. The way she’d say your name, softly, like it was her favorite word.

You started noticing how her laugh could fill a room, making even the dullest moments feel alive. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved—basketball, her dog back home, or the time she convinced her whole team to wear matching Crocs. Paige had this way of making the ordinary extraordinary, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

She never tried to fix you, never made you feel like you were some puzzle that needed solving. She just saw you—the real you, the messy, complicated, guilt-ridden you—and loved you anyway.

Paige’s love wasn’t flashy or conditional or based on expectations. It was steady, like a heartbeat, a rhythm you could count on even when everything else felt uncertain.

It wasn’t in the grand gestures but in the little moments. Like when she brought you coffee the exact way you liked it, without asking. Or when she remembered the names of the books you’d mentioned in passing and bought you one “just because.” It was in the way she’d text you random memes during the day, just to make you laugh, and the way she’d listen—really listen—when you spoke about your fears, your dreams, your past.

One night, you found yourself lying beside her, the room lit only by the faint glow of her bedside lamp. She was doodling something on your arm with her finger, her touch light and absentminded.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice soft.

“Drawing stars,” she said with a grin. “Because you’re my universe.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face. “That’s so cheesy.”

“Yeah, but it made you smile,” she shot back, her voice full of playful confidence.

And it did. She always did.

As you lay there, her head resting against your shoulder, you realized that this—she—made you feel complete in a way you hadn’t even known was possible. Paige loved you in a way that felt so simple, so natural, that it made you question everything you’d ever believed about love.

You used to think you were hard to love. That you came with too much baggage, too many rules, too much you. But with Paige, there was no effort, no hesitation. She loved you like it was breathing, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And for the first time, you began to wonder if maybe she was right. If maybe love didn’t have to be hard or painful or earned. If maybe, just maybe, it could be as simple as this.

Over time, the love between you grew, not in explosive leaps but in quiet, steady steps. It wasn’t just the way she kissed you or held your hand. It was in the way she made you laugh until your sides hurt, the way she celebrated your victories, big or small, like they were her own. It was in the way she never gave up on you, even when you struggled to believe in yourself.

It wasn’t perfect. You weren’t perfect. But Paige made you feel like you didn’t have to be. She made you feel whole, even in the moments when you felt broken.

And as you fell deeper into this love—this easy, unconditional love—you began to realize something else. You weren’t just falling in love with her. You were starting to fall in love with yourself, too.

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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mostlymihawk · 7 months ago

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Getting Sick!

Straw Hat Crew (+ Shanks + Mihawk) x GN reader

Prompt: How they react to you getting sick.

CW: Emetophobia (throwing up)

Luffy:

Completely useless.

The man's made of rubber, he doesn't have a clue what to do.

"Um...it's gonna be okay? It's gonna be okay, right?"

You have to ask him for everything.

Does carry you to bed when asked, and will happily snuggle you.

Then asks if you want something to eat.

Food is the solution, and refuses to understand that food can also be the problem.

Nami:

Holds your hair and runs her fingers through it at the same time.

Also dabbing your face and neck with a cold cloth.

Certified professional make-it-better-er.

She did a lot of throwing up when she was younger.

Childhood trauma combined with lying to your sister and working for your mother's murderer will do that.

Knows exactly what she would have wanted, and gives it all to you.

"It's gonna be okay. I've got you, sweetheart."

Keeps tabs on your temperature to make sure this isn't a symptom of something bigger.

Refuses to let you out of bed until you're 100% better.

Zoro:

Keeps his face carefully blank and gently rubs your back.

Looking away the whole time.

You know him well enough to know he does not want to be doing this.

Handles blood just fine but this is a whole other ballgame and he wants no part of it.

Happily helps you to bed after, because it means the gross part is over.

"Better out than in...I guess."

Then he remembers someone has to take care of the cleanup.

Tries to frame it as discipline training to make it better.

Usopp:

Useless, but tries his best.

"Do you need a cloth? Some water? I can get, uh...fresh pair of clothes?"

Standing outside the door, so you croak out what you need and he runs to get it for you.

Needs to be filling the silence.

If he's not asking you something and you're not answering he's talking about how this reminds him of that one time in the Forest of Doom...

Spends the whole night telling stories to help you get to sleep.

Gets a lot better when he realizes this isn't all that much different than barnacles and bird poop.

Unfortunately, the worst of it has already passed by then.

Confidently assures you he'll be ready for next time, though.

Sanji:

As a gentleman, it's his duty to take care of his significant other when they're sick.

He's damn good at it too.

That doesn't mean he has to like it.

His face is pinched as his thumb gently rubs your back, he dabs your face and neck, and offers you sips of water when you can manage it.

"You're alright, sweetheart. A little bit of my tender love and care and you'll be on your feet in no time."

And then he notices the colour, not unlike the blueberry reduction from the dessert you'd asked for after lunch.

Gently helps you to your room, and it's not until the next day that you notice anything is amiss.

In. con. solable.

No one has ever gotten sick from his food before. Ever.

Refuses to serve food.

The Straw Hats have to turn back to Baratie so Zeff can literally beat some sense into him.

Shanks:

Bonus!

This crew loves its alcohol way too much for Shanks to be even the slightest bit bothered by a little vomit.

Sits by your side, dabbing your face, rubbing your back, completely unfazed, cracking jokes the entire time.

"Snuck into the hold and had yourself a little party without me, did you?"

Knows exactly what to do to help you feel better.

Again, the crew loves alcohol too much for anything else to be true.

Cuddles. So many cuddles.

This crew is too experienced to let a sick crew member come back to work early, so despite the unserious approach you're on strict bedrest.

The whole crew makes fun of you...but only once you've recovered.

Mihawk:

This is not a man who routinely deals with people being sick.

Confused.

Why are you sick.

Who caused this.

Who does he need to kill.

(It's whoever cooked your dinner at that restaurant you went to last night, but you don't tell him that.)

Completely repulsed, does not let it show on his face while he tends to you.

Rubs your back very gently, and uses a cool cloth to wipe the sweat off your face.

Helps you to bed, sits up and lets you lean against his chest so you're upright, and encourages a few sips of water.

"Get some rest, my jewel."

The next day there's a doctor at your bedside.

You don't need a doctor, but the look on Mihawk's face says this is non-negotiable.

#mihawk x reader #sanji x reader #luffy x reader #nami x reader #usopp x reader #zoro x reader #shanks x reader #opla imagine

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 2 months ago

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Second Chance - Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve tried to get you back, but it's not always easy to gain back the trust one loses.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Warning: Angsts, like kind of a lot of it, injured character, but nobody dies. A bit of fluff with a happy ending.

Words: 9 224

AN: So, sweet anon asked about part two of Enough is Enough, and well, why the hell no :) I feel like shit (being sick isn't fun), so apologies x4 for any mistakes. My brain isn't braining...

Steve didn’t give up.

Steve’s first apology came in the form of flowers.

They arrived at the coffee shop just as you were opening. A delivery driver handed you the bouquet—a lush arrangement of white roses and baby’s breath, wrapped in soft tissue paper. For a moment, you just stared at them, the scent of fresh blossoms mingling with the familiar aroma of coffee beans. The card nestled within the bouquet bore only three words: I’m so sorry.

Your chest tightened. You didn’t have to wonder who sent them.

“Who’s the secret admirer?” your coworker teased, grinning as she wiped down the counter.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you set the bouquet aside, trying to push down the lump rising in your throat. It was a beautiful gesture—one you might have cherished once—but now it felt hollow.

The flowers kept coming. Every morning, a new arrangement would appear. Daisies, tulips, sunflowers. Each accompanied by a note in Steve’s handwriting: I miss you. I love you. Let me fix this.

You didn’t know how to feel. Part of you wanted to believe him, to give him the chance to make things right. But another part of you—the part still raw and aching—refused.

Then he started showing up.

The first time, you nearly dropped the coffee pot in your hand. He stood outside the shop, leaning against the lamppost with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. He looked different—tired, almost haunted, as though the weight of your absence was something physical he carried with him.

You ignored him, focusing on your customers, but you could feel his presence like a shadow just beyond the glass. When you finally closed the shop, he was still there.

He said your name softly as you stepped outside, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t stop walking.

“Please,” he called after you, his tone desperate. “Just give me a chance to talk.”

You turned back, your jaw clenched. “Why now, Steve? Why couldn’t you talk to me when it mattered?”

His face crumpled, and for a brief moment, you felt a pang of guilt. But you shook it off and kept walking.

It didn’t deter him. Steve came back the next day, and the day after that, always waiting silently as you worked. It wasn’t until a week later that you finally confronted him.

“What do you want from me, Steve?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

His blue eyes searched yours, filled with a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in months. “I want to make this right,” he said, his voice breaking. “I love you. I never stopped. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening with conflicting emotions. He looked so sincere, so heartbroken, that for a moment, you almost believed him. Almost.

“It’s too late,” you said finally, your voice barely audible. “You can’t fix this. I don’t trust you anymore.”

The pain in his eyes was like a physical blow, but you didn’t let it show. You turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, defeated.

But the truth was, you weren’t as strong as you seemed. Every step away from him felt like ripping a piece of yourself apart. By the time you got home, you were shaking, tears streaming down your face as you collapsed onto the couch.

You loved him. God, you still loved him. But love wasn’t enough anymore.

***

The days blurred together after that.

You went through the motions of your life—opening the coffee shop each morning, smiling at customers, making small talk with your coworkers—but it all felt mechanical, like a script you had memorized long ago. The warmth and joy that once fueled you were gone, replaced by an empty numbness you couldn’t seem to shake.

Nights were the worst.

Sleep eluded you, no matter how many hours you spent staring at the ceiling or tossing and turning under your blankets. The bed felt too big, too cold without him there. You hated yourself for missing him, for craving the comfort of his arms even after everything he’d done. But the longing wasn’t something you could control.

It wasn’t just the nights, though. Little things kept sneaking up on you, tearing at the fragile stitches holding you together.

The sight of his favorite mug on your kitchen counter. The book he’d borrowed but never finished, still sitting on your nightstand. The faint scent of his cologne that lingered on your favorite sweater, no matter how many times you washed it.

You tried to distract yourself, but nothing worked. Books, once your solace, couldn’t hold your attention. The words blurred together, and you’d find yourself reading the same sentence over and over without absorbing a single word.

Your friends noticed.

“You need to eat more,” one of them said during a group dinner you’d been forced to attend. She pushed a plate of pasta toward you, her brow furrowed with concern. “You look like you’ve lost weight.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, picking at the food with a fork.

Kat wasn’t buying it. She leaned across the table, her sharp blue eyes cutting through your defenses. “You’re not fine. And we’re not going to pretend otherwise.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, and you had to blink back the sting of tears.

Steve’s friends noticed too. Sam popped into the coffee shop one morning, leaning casually against the counter as you took his order.

“You’re not sleeping,” he said matter-of-factly, his tone laced with concern.

You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice light. “Busy days, you know how it is.”

He didn’t press you further, but the look he gave you lingered long after he left.

***

The worst was when Steve came back.

It was late in the evening, just before closing, when he walked into the shop. You froze behind the counter, your heart leaping into your throat at the sight of him.

He looked just as broken as you felt. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was mussed like he’d been running his hands through it in frustration. He lingered near the entrance, as if unsure whether he was welcome.

“Hi,” he said softly, his voice hesitant.

You gripped the edge of the counter, steadying yourself. “We’re about to close.”

“I know,” he said, his hands fidgeting nervously at his sides. “I just… I wanted to see you.”

You turned away, pretending to busy yourself with cleaning up. “You shouldn’t be here, Steve.”

“Please,” he said, stepping closer. “Just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening painfully. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you,” he said, his voice breaking. “And because I can’t stand knowing I hurt you like this.”

His words cracked something inside you, but you couldn’t let him see it. “You need to leave,” you said firmly, refusing to meet his eyes.

For a moment, he hesitated, as if hoping you might change your mind. But when you didn’t, he nodded, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “I’m sorry.”

You watched him go, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the empty shop. And then you broke.

You sank to the floor, tears streaming down your face as the weight of your grief crushed you.

You loved him. God, you still loved him.

But you didn’t know how to let yourself forgive him.

***

You didn’t expect to find Bucky Barnes on your doorstep.

It was a gray Saturday morning, and the porch floor creaked under your weight as you aimlessly swept away fallen leaves. When you opened the door and saw him standing there, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and his blue-gray eyes watching you carefully, you froze.

“Bucky?”

“Hey,” he said, his tone casual, though his expression betrayed a flicker of hesitation. “Mind if I come in?”

You hesitated. This was Steve’s best friend. Seeing him felt like reopening wounds that you’d been trying desperately to let heal. But there was no judgment in his gaze, no pressure—just concern. So, with a heavy sigh, you stepped aside and gestured for him to enter.

He stepped into the living room, glancing around like he was cataloging the space. You folded your arms, standing stiffly near the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, doll,” he teased, his lips quirking into a faint smirk.

“Bucky,” you said, your voice sharper now. “Why are you here?”

He sighed, the smirk fading. “I wanted to check on you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you said quickly. “I’m not with Steve anymore. There’s no obligation.”

He raised an eyebrow, his head tilting slightly as he leaned against the back of your couch. “Obligation? That’s not why I’m here, sweetheart. You’re my friend too. And whether or not you’re with Steve doesn’t change that.”

The softness in his tone made something crack inside you. You wanted to argue, to brush him off, but instead, you felt your defenses falter.

“Besides,” he continued with a wry grin, “someone’s gotta make sure you know not all men are idiots. Steve might be an amazing guy, but even amazing guys screw up sometimes.”

That last sentence hit you like a slap. You felt the tears coming before you could stop them, your vision blurring as all the emotions you’d been bottling up threatened to spill over. You turned away, trying to pull yourself together, but Bucky wasn’t having it.

“Hey,” he said gently, stepping closer. “Talk to me.”

That was all it took for the dam to break.

“I don’t know how to stop loving him,” you blurted, your voice trembling as the words spilled out in a rush.

Bucky froze, his expression softening as he watched the tears stream down your face. You sank onto the couch, your shoulders shaking, and he followed, sitting beside you without a word.

“I hate him for what he did,” you continued, your voice cracking. “I hate that he made me feel like I didn’t matter, like I was just… there. And now? Now he’s trying to fix it, like I’m supposed to just forget everything and let him back in.”

Bucky listened silently, his hands clasped together as you poured your heart out.

“It feels like a slap in the face,” you said, your chest heaving with each breath. “Like he thinks flowers and apologies will erase months of feeling invisible. I hate him for that. But more than anything, I hate that I still love him.”

You buried your face in your hands, your voice muffled as you added, “I don’t want to love him anymore. I want it to stop, Bucky. I want it all to stop.”

The room was quiet for a long moment. Then, Bucky sighed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Doll,” he said softly, “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but loving him isn’t something to hate yourself for. Steve… he’s a complicated guy. He doesn’t always get things right, but I promise you, he loves you. More than you know.”

You shook your head, your voice shaking. “If he loved me so much, why did he treat me like that? Why did he make me feel like I didn’t matter?”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. “You’re right. He screwed up. Big time. But… he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for years. It doesn’t excuse how he hurt you, but I’ve seen him lately, and he’s a wreck without you.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, your tears blurring the intensity in his gaze.

“He’s not good at showing it,” Bucky continued, “but he’s an amazing guy. I’ve known him my whole life, and I’ve seen him at his best and his worst. And I know he’ll never stop trying to make this right. The question is… would you ever let him? What would it take for you to let him back in?”

The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and unrelenting. You didn’t answer right away, your fingers gripping the hem of your shirt as you stared down at the floor.

“I don’t know,” you whispered finally. “I don’t know if I can. It’s like… every time I see him, I remember how much it hurt. And even if I wanted to try again, I don’t know if I’d ever trust him not to hurt me like that again.”

Bucky reached out, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he said gently. “But whatever you choose, just know this: you deserve to be happy, sweetheart. Whether that’s with Steve or without him.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any trace of pity or judgment, but there was none. Just quiet understanding and unwavering support.

When he finally stood to leave, he gave you a small smile. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said, his voice steady. “And no matter what happens, I’m here. Steve or no Steve.”

You watched him go, his words echoing in your mind long after the door closed.

And for the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to wonder if maybe—just maybe—you could find a way forward.

***

The compound gym was almost empty, save for the quiet hum of machinery and the dull thud of fists meeting a punching bag. Steve Rogers stood at the far end of the room, his knuckles raw and his breathing ragged. He’d been at it for hours, his frustration and grief pouring into every swing, every strike. The bag swayed violently under the force of his hits, the chain creaking with each impact.

“You keep that up, and you’ll be patching the damn thing again,” Bucky’s voice rang out, casual and dry as ever, though the concern in it was unmistakable.

Steve paused mid-swing, the tension in his shoulders easing only slightly as he turned to see his best friend leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. Bucky’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes betrayed a softness Steve wasn’t sure he deserved.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked, his voice hoarse from hours of exertion.

“Figured I’d find you here,” Bucky replied, stepping into the gym. “Thought maybe you’d stop using that bag like it owes you money and actually talk to me.”

Steve sighed, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Not in the mood, Buck.”

“Well, tough,” Bucky shot back, grabbing a folding chair and dragging it noisily across the floor. He plopped it down unceremoniously a few feet away from Steve, crossing one ankle over his knee. “Because I just came from seeing her.”

The color drained from Steve’s face. He froze, his fists still clenched at his sides. “You… you saw her?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said evenly, watching his friend’s reaction carefully. “She didn’t slam the door in my face, so I’d say I’m doing better than you.”

Steve flinched, the weight of Bucky’s words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He turned away, his hands gripping the edges of the punching bag as he tried to steady himself. “How… how is she?”

Bucky hesitated. He’d seen the raw pain in your eyes, the tears you tried to hide, and he knew Steve wasn’t ready for the truth. But lying wouldn’t help either.

“She’s a mess, Steve,” Bucky said softly. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Steve let out a shaky breath, his head hanging low. “I did this to her,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I pushed her away, made her feel like she wasn’t enough. And now… now I don’t know how to fix it.”

Bucky stood, closing the distance between them. “Steve, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Steve turned, his eyes red and tired.

“She still loves you,” Bucky said firmly, his voice steady. “But she’s hurt, and she’s angry. And you can’t expect her to just forget all that because you’re showing up with flowers and apologies.”

“I know that,” Steve snapped, his voice breaking. “God, Buck, I know. But what else can I do? Every time I see her, it’s like she’s slipping further away, and I don’t know how to reach her anymore.”

Bucky’s gaze softened, and he placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You start by understanding that this isn’t about fixing things overnight. It’s about showing her that you’re willing to put in the work, no matter how long it takes. That you’re not just sorry—you’re ready to be better.”

Steve nodded, though the despair in his eyes didn’t fade. “She said she doesn’t trust me anymore.”

“Then earn it back,” Bucky said simply. “Show her that you’re not the same guy who hurt her. And for God’s sake, stop treating this like a battle you can win with brute force. You’re not fighting Hydra here, Steve. You’re fighting for her.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged, his head dropping into his hands. “I don’t even know if she wants me to try.”

Bucky crouched slightly, meeting Steve’s gaze head-on. “I asked her,” he said quietly.

Steve’s head shot up, his blue eyes wide. “What? What did she say?”

“She doesn’t know,” Bucky admitted. “She’s scared, Steve. Scared that if she lets you back in, you’ll hurt her again. And honestly? I don’t blame her.”

The words hit Steve like a blow, but he didn’t argue. He knew Bucky was right.

“She told me something else too,” Bucky continued, his voice softer now. “She said she doesn’t know how to stop loving you. And it’s killing her.”

Steve’s breath caught, his chest tightening painfully. “She… she said that?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. She loves you, Steve. But love isn’t enough—not after what you put her through. You have to show her that you’re not just saying the right things. You have to be the right man for her. The man she fell in love with.”

Steve closed his eyes, his mind racing with memories of you—the way you used to laugh, the way you’d look at him like he was your whole world. He’d taken that for granted, and now he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get it back.

“What if I can’t?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “What if I’ve already lost her?”

Bucky’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “You don’t get to give up, punk. Not on her, and not on yourself. You want her back? Then fight for her. And don’t stop until you’ve shown her that she’s worth everything.”

Steve swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “How? How do I even start?”

Bucky gave him a small, knowing smile. “Start by listening. By showing up—not just for her, but for the life she wants. Show her that she’s not a convenience, Steve. She’s the center of it all.”

Steve nodded slowly, the weight of Bucky’s words sinking in. He didn’t know if it would be enough, but he knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t give up on you. Not now. Not ever.

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve said quietly, his voice rough but sincere.

Bucky grinned, clapping him on the back. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a hell of a road ahead of you.”

Steve nodded, determination flickering in his tired eyes. He didn’t know how long it would take or if he’d even succeed, but for you, he’d move mountains.

Because losing you wasn’t an option. And he’d spend the rest of his life proving it if that’s what it took.

***

Steve left the gym after his conversation with Bucky feeling drained but determined. His best friend’s words weighed on him, both a reminder of the man he wanted to be and the man he hadn’t been for you. He knew Bucky was right—this wasn’t a fight he could win with brute force or a quick apology. It would take time, patience, and a quiet kind of devotion that he’d never had to show before.

He didn’t expect you to forgive him overnight. He didn’t even expect you to notice what he was doing right away. But he had to start somewhere.

***

It was early morning when Steve pushed open the door to your coffee shop.

The familiar bell jingled above him, the sound stirring memories of quieter, happier times. You were behind the counter, moving with practiced ease as you worked the espresso machine. You didn’t see him at first, but when you turned, your eyes locked, and Steve felt the air shift.

“Morning,” he said, his voice soft, careful not to disrupt the fragile peace of the moment.

You blinked, your expression guarded. “Morning.”

“I’m here for coffee,” he said, stepping forward. “For the team.”

Your brow furrowed, skeptical. “The team sent you?”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Not exactly. Thought I’d take my turn.”

You didn’t reply, but you turned back to the espresso machine, the hum of it filling the silence. Steve watched you work, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, and for a moment, he was struck by how natural this scene felt, even with the tension between you.

When you handed him the tray of drinks, your fingers brushed his briefly, and he saw the faintest flicker of something in your eyes—surprise, maybe, or something softer.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice warm but careful.

You didn’t answer, but you nodded, and he left without lingering, the bell jingling softly as the door swung shut behind him.

The next time he came, it was quieter. Midmorning, after the breakfast rush had died down, Steve appeared with a small brown paper bag in hand.

You were cleaning the counter, lost in thought, when his voice broke through the silence.

“You forget to eat when you’re busy,” he said simply, placing the bag on the counter.

You looked up, startled. “Steve…”

“It’s just breakfast,” he said, holding up a hand to forestall your protests. “Nothing more. Just thought you might need it.”

You hesitated, the words you wanted to say caught somewhere in your throat. Slowly, you opened the bag, the warm scent of eggs and bacon wafting up to meet you.

“From that diner you like,” he added, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Figured it was better than you skipping meals.”

You stared at the bag for a long moment before meeting his eyes. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But I wanted to.”

He didn’t stay long, didn’t push for conversation. He just gave you a small nod and left, leaving you with breakfast and a strange, lingering warmth in your chest.

Natasha was relentless when it came to her movie nights, and somehow, you found yourself at the Tower despite your protests. The room was cozy, filled with the low murmur of conversation and the scent of popcorn. You settled into one corner of the couch, trying to ignore the way Steve’s presence tugged at the edges of your awareness.

When the opening credits began to roll, Steve appeared beside you, holding something in his hands.

“Here,” he said quietly, offering you a pair of thick woolen socks.

You frowned, confused. “What’s this?”

“Your feet get cold,” he said simply, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

You stared at him, your chest tightening, before reluctantly taking the socks. “Thanks,” you muttered, slipping them on.

He didn’t linger, didn’t push for more. But later, when the movie reached its tense climax, he handed you a steaming mug of hot chocolate—rich, creamy, with just the right amount of cinnamon.

“You don’t have to—” you started, but he cut you off with a small, knowing smile.

“You love hot chocolate after horror movies,” he said, his tone soft. “Figured you might want some.”

You took the mug, the warmth seeping into your hands, and for the first time that night, you let yourself relax.

The envelope was waiting for you in your mailbox, unassuming but carefully placed. Inside was a single ticket to the sold-out Broadway show you’d mentioned to Sam weeks ago.

The note tucked inside was brief, written in Steve’s familiar handwriting: Thought you’d like this. Hope it’s as good as you imagined.

You stared at the ticket for a long time, your heart aching with a mixture of gratitude and frustration. He remembered. Of course, he remembered.

You told yourself it didn’t matter, that it was just a kind gesture, but deep down, it chipped away at the walls you’d built around your heart.

The night your car broke down was cold and quiet, the kind of night that made the world feel vast and lonely. You sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the lifeless dashboard, your breath fogging up the glass as you fought the urge to cry.

You tried calling a few friends, but no one answered. Finally, with trembling fingers, you dialed the one number you swore you wouldn’t.

“Sweetheart?” Steve’s voice came through the line, steady and concerned.

“My car won’t start,” you said softly, ignoring the pet name, hating how small your voice sounded.

“Where are you?”

You told him, and he didn’t hesitate. “Stay there. I’m on my way.”

When his truck pulled up beside you, he climbed out without a word, his breath misting in the cold air as he checked under your hood. His movements were sure and efficient, his presence steadying.

“Alternator’s shot,” he said finally, closing the hood. “I’ll take you home.”

You hesitated, your pride warring with your gratitude, but the freezing air made the decision for you.

The drive was quiet, the heater humming softly as Steve navigated the empty streets. He didn’t pry, didn’t try to fill the silence with unnecessary words. He just… drove.

When you woke up the next morning, your car was back in its usual spot. The engine purred like new when you started it, and a small note was taped to the dashboard: Shouldn’t give you trouble anymore. Call me if it does.

Each gesture was small, unassuming. Steve never pushed, never demanded more than you were willing to give. He just… showed up, quietly and consistently, letting his actions speak louder than words ever could.

And slowly, despite yourself, you began to notice.

***

Three months had passed since the breakup.

You wouldn’t say things had gone back to normal—far from it—but something had undeniably shifted between you and Steve. His quiet persistence, the way he showed up without pushing or demanding anything from you, had started to chip away at the walls you’d built around your heart.

At first, your conversations were stiff and polite, nothing more than a few sentences exchanged when he stopped by the coffee shop or brought you breakfast. But as the weeks went by, those moments grew longer, softer. He’d ask about your day, about the books you were reading, or the things you enjoyed, and you found yourself answering more openly. It wasn’t quite like before, but it was closer to the first moments of your relationship, back when everything had been new and uncomplicated.

Still, there was a voice in the back of your mind that wouldn’t let you forget. A quiet, insistent whisper that reminded you of how he’d hurt you, how he’d pushed you aside and made you feel invisible.

That voice grew louder the day he asked you to talk.

***

It was late afternoon, the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the windows of the coffee shop as you wiped down the counter. The shop was quiet, the usual morning and lunch rushes long gone, leaving you with only the hum of the espresso machine and the soft clatter of dishes.

The sound of the bell above the door caught your attention, and when you looked up, Steve was there.

He’d been coming in more often lately, not just to pick up coffee for the team but to see you, to talk to you. This time, though, something about the way he stood—his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched—told you this wasn’t just a casual visit.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice careful as he approached the counter.

“Hey,” you replied, setting the towel aside.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked, glancing around at the empty shop. “I mean… can we talk?”

You hesitated, your stomach twisting. The vulnerability in his expression was disarming, but that voice in the back of your mind warned you to tread carefully. Still, you nodded, gesturing toward one of the empty tables.

Steve followed you, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from you. For a moment, he said nothing, his hands clasped tightly on the table as he stared down at them. You waited, your heart thudding quietly in your chest as the silence stretched between you.

Finally, he took a deep breath and looked up, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” he began, his voice low but steady. “About what I should say. How I should say it. And the truth is… there’s no easy way to do this. So I’m just going to be honest.”

You nodded, your throat tightening as you braced yourself for whatever was coming.

“I screwed up,” he said, the words heavy with regret. “I let you down in a way I never should have. And I’ve been trying to figure out why—why I acted the way I did, why I pushed you away when you were the best thing in my life.”

His hands tightened into fists, his knuckles whitening as he struggled to find the right words. “I think… I think I was scared. Scared of not being enough for you, scared of dragging you into everything that comes with being me. The missions, the stress, the weight of it all—I didn’t want to burden you with that.”

Your brow furrowed, confusion and frustration bubbling to the surface. “So you decided to ignore me instead? To shut me out?”

“I know,” he said quickly, his voice breaking slightly. “I know it doesn’t make sense. It was selfish and stupid, and I wasn’t thinking about how it would make you feel. I just… I thought if I kept it to myself, if I didn’t tell you about everything that was going on, I could protect you from it. But all I did was hurt you.”

His eyes glistened, and he looked away, swallowing hard. “I’ll never forgive myself for that. For making you feel like you weren’t enough when you were everything to me.”

The raw emotion in his voice made your chest ache, but the wounds he’d left were still fresh, still tender.

“Steve…” you began, your voice trembling, “you hurt me more than anyone ever has. Do you know that?”

He flinched, his jaw tightening, but he nodded.

“I spent weeks wondering what I did wrong,” you continued, your words spilling out in a rush. “I kept asking myself why I wasn’t good enough for you, why I wasn’t worth your time or your attention. And then, when you finally started trying again, it felt like a slap in the face. Like you thought a few kind gestures could erase everything you put me through.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you fought to keep your voice steady. “I wanted so badly to be enough for you, Steve. That’s all I ever wanted. Just to be enough.”

“You were,” he said quickly, his voice cracking. “You are. God, you’re more than enough. I was the one who wasn’t. I didn’t know how to handle it—how to be the man you deserved—and I let that fear control me. But I swear to you, I see it now. I see what I lost because of it.”

He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “I know I don’t deserve another chance. I know I might have ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. But if there’s anything—anything—I can do to change your mind, tell me. I’ll do it. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I can be better, that I can be the man you need me to be.”

His voice dropped, barely more than a whisper. “I just need to know if there’s any part of you that still believes in us.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding as the weight of his words settled over you. The pain, the anger, the love—all of it swirled together in a storm of emotion that left you speechless.

Finally, you let out a shaky breath, your voice trembling as you said, “I don’t know, Steve. I don’t know if I can trust you again. I don’t know if I can forget how much it hurt.”

His face crumpled, but he nodded, accepting your words without argument.

“But…” you continued, your voice softer now, “I can’t pretend I don’t still feel something for you. I can’t pretend I don’t still love you.”

His eyes widened, hope flickering in their depths.

“That doesn’t mean we can go back to how things were,” you said quickly, your tone firm. “If we’re going to try… if we’re going to even think about trying, it has to be different. You have to be honest with me, Steve. About everything.”

“I will,” he said immediately, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear, I will.”

You nodded, your throat tight with the weight of what you’d just said. It wasn’t forgiveness—not yet—but it was something. A small step toward rebuilding what had been broken.

And as Steve reached out, his hand brushing against yours, you let yourself hope—for the first time in months—that maybe, just maybe, it was a step worth taking.

***

It had been a week since the conversation with Steve, and your emotions were in turmoil. You felt caught between the raw pain of the past and the cautious hope of what could be. His words haunted you—his apologies, his promises, the way his voice had cracked when he told you how much he still cared.

You needed clarity, and there was only one person who could give you the no-nonsense advice you desperately needed: Natasha.

She arrived at your place that evening, a takeout bag in hand, and didn’t waste a second settling herself at your kitchen table. Her sharp green eyes studied you as you sat down across from her, picking at the noodles she’d brought for you.

“All right,” she said, breaking the silence. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Steve,” you admitted, your voice soft.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. “What about him?”

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the table. “We talked. Really talked. He told me everything—why he shut me out, how he felt, all of it. He apologized for everything and… I believe him, Nat. I really do.”

“But?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“But I don’t know if I can trust him again,” you confessed, your throat tightening. “I don’t know if I can let myself go through that again. He hurt me so much, Nat. How do I just move past that?”

Natasha studied you for a moment, her gaze piercing. “Let me ask you something,” she said finally. “If you didn’t still love him, if you didn’t still want something with him deep down, would we even be having this conversation right now?”

You frowned, her words hitting you hard. “What do you mean?”

“It’s been three months,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “If you were done with him, if you really didn’t care anymore, you’d have moved on by now. You wouldn’t still be here, agonizing over whether to give him another chance.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but no words came. She wasn’t wrong, and deep down, you knew it.

“I’m not saying you have to forgive him tomorrow or even next week,” Natasha continued, leaning forward. “But if there’s still a part of you that wants to believe in him, don’t ignore that. You owe it to yourself to figure out what you really want. Not what you’re afraid of, not what you think you should do. What you want.”

Her words lingered long after she left, a quiet truth that refused to be ignored.

***

At the same time, Steve was grappling with his own uncertainty.

He sat in the Tower’s lounge, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee as he stared out the window. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about your conversation, about the raw pain in your voice when you told him how much he’d hurt you.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice broke through his thoughts, and Steve turned to see both Sam and Bucky entering the room. They exchanged a look before sitting down on either side of him.

“You’ve been brooding,” Sam said bluntly. “What’s going on?”

Steve sighed, setting his mug down on the coffee table. “It’s her,” he admitted.

“Figured,” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair. “What happened?”

“I talked to her,” Steve said. “Told her everything—how I felt, why I shut her out. I apologized for all of it.”

“And?” Sam prompted.

“She said she doesn’t know if she can trust me again,” Steve said quietly, his voice heavy with regret. “But she also said she still loves me. I don’t know what to do with that, Sam. I don’t know how to make it right.”

Sam leaned forward, his expression serious. “Look, man, love isn’t always enough. Not when there’s hurt involved. If she doesn’t trust you right now, that’s on you to fix. You can’t just expect her to forgive and forget because you feel bad about it.”

“I know that,” Steve said quickly, his jaw tightening. “That’s why I’m here. I don’t want to mess this up again. I need to figure out how to show her that I’m serious without overwhelming her.”

Bucky gave him a long, measured look. “You’ve been trying,” he said finally. “We’ve all seen it—the little things you’ve been doing. But if you’re asking me, you’re not going to fix this by tiptoeing around her. You’ve got to be honest, Rogers. If you want her back, you need to let her see all of you. The good, the bad, and the stuff you think she won’t want to deal with.”

Steve frowned, his gaze dropping to the floor. “What if she doesn’t want to deal with it?”

“Then she doesn’t,” Bucky said simply. “But if you hold back, you’re not giving her the chance to decide for herself. And that’s not fair to either of you.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “You’ve got to let her see that you’re not just saying the right things, Steve. You’ve got to show her. But don’t make it about fixing things fast. Healing takes time, for both of you.”

Steve exhaled slowly, the weight of their words settling over him. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” Sam said with a grin. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you, Cap.”

***

Steve spent the next few days thinking about their advice. He’d been so focused on not pushing you, on giving you space, that he hadn’t realized he might be holding back too much.

When he saw you next, it was at the coffee shop, just as you were closing up for the day. He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, his heart pounding.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice breaking the quiet.

You looked up, surprise flickering across your face. “Hey.”

“Do you have a minute?” he asked.

You nodded slowly, setting down the rag you’d been using to clean the counter. “Sure.”

He gestured toward one of the empty tables, and you followed him, sitting down across from him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a fragile thread.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Steve began, his voice steady but low. “About how much I hurt you, how I made you feel like you weren’t enough. And you were right. I let you down in ways I’ll never forgive myself for.”

Your throat tightened, but you stayed silent, letting him continue.

“I’ve spent so much time trying to fix things in small ways, trying to show you that I’m serious,” he said. “But I don’t think I’ve been honest enough with you. I don’t think I’ve let you see how much this has been tearing me apart.”

His hands tightened into fists on the table, his knuckles white. “I don’t want to overwhelm you or push you, but I can’t hold this back anymore. I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I can be the man you deserve.”

His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw tears in his eyes. “If there’s anything—anything—I can do to earn your trust again, tell me. Because losing you would be the biggest mistake of my life.”

Your own eyes burned with tears, the raw honesty in his words cutting through the walls you’d built around your heart. For the first time, you saw not just the man who’d hurt you but the man who was willing to fight for you, flaws and all.

You didn’t have an answer for him—not yet. But as you reached across the table and took his hand, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start finding one.

***

You were closing up the coffee shop when your phone buzzed. The message was from Natasha. That alone was unusual—Nat rarely texted without reason. You pulled your phone out, unlocking it with a swipe of your thumb.

The words on the screen made your blood run cold: We’ve lost contact with Steve and Bucky.

Your breath caught, and the phone nearly slipped from your trembling hands. For a moment, everything around you blurred—the soft hum of the espresso machine, the faint chatter of pedestrians outside, the smell of coffee beans—all of it faded into the background.

You didn’t think, didn’t even register dropping the rag you’d been using to clean the counter. Your hands shook as you locked the doors, fumbling with the keys before rushing to your car.

The drive to the Tower was a haze, your chest tight with panic as Natasha’s words repeated in your mind. You knew Steve went on dangerous missions. It was part of who he was. But something about those words—lost contact—made this time feel different.

***

By the time you arrived at the Tower, your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might break through your ribcage. The elevator ride felt like an eternity, each floor passing with agonizing slowness. When the doors finally slid open, you practically ran into the common room, where Natasha and Sam were already waiting.

“What happened?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

Natasha turned toward you, her expression calm but her eyes betraying her concern. “They were on a mission. Everything was going according to plan, but then we lost contact about three hours ago. We’ve been trying to re-establish communication, but there’s been no response.”

Three hours. That might as well have been three days.

“What do you mean ‘lost contact’?” you pressed, your voice rising. “How does that even happen?”

“It could be anything,” Sam said, his tone soothing but cautious. “Jammed signals, a misstep in the mission. We don’t know yet.”

You stared at them, your breathing shallow, your mind racing with every worst-case scenario imaginable. “So they could be…”

“They’re not,” Natasha said firmly, cutting you off. Her voice was sharp, but there was a softness in her gaze. “Steve and Bucky have been in worse situations than this. They’ll find a way to get back to us.”

Sam nodded in agreement, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. “They’re two of the toughest guys I know,” he said. “If anyone can make it out of this, it’s them.”

You wanted to believe them, but the fear in your chest refused to let go. You sank into one of the chairs, your hands gripping the armrests so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

The minutes dragged by like hours, the silence in the room heavy and oppressive. Natasha and Sam tried to make conversation, to keep you distracted, but you barely registered their words. Your mind was too consumed by the thought of what could happen—of what might have already happened.

***

When Natasha’s phone finally buzzed, the sound cut through the quiet like a gunshot. She snatched it up, her sharp gaze scanning the screen. Relief flickered across her face as she read aloud:

“It’s from Steve. They’re on their way back, but a medic is necessary.”

Your heart seized, a mixture of relief and panic coursing through you. “Who’s hurt?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“He didn’t say,” Natasha replied, her lips pressing into a thin line.

You tried to steady your breathing, but the knot in your chest refused to loosen. You told yourself it didn’t matter who was hurt—they were alive, and they were coming back. But the not knowing gnawed at you, the fear for Steve settling deep in your bones.

No one told Steve you were here, and maybe that was for the best. But as you sat there, waiting for the jet to arrive, you realized just how fragile everything felt. The past few months flashed through your mind—all the moments of doubt, the anger, the hesitation—and for the first time, they seemed so small. In the grand scheme of things, you could have lost Steve today. That thought terrified you more than anything else.

***

The sound of the jet’s engines rumbling low overhead pulled you out of your thoughts. You stood with Natasha and Sam, your heart pounding as the aircraft touched down on the Tower’s private landing pad.

The ramp lowered slowly, and the first thing you saw was Steve, his arm slung around Bucky to help him walk. Bucky looked pale, his arm hanging limp at his side, his face tight with pain. Medics rushed forward to meet him, but your eyes were locked on Steve.

He didn’t look much better than Bucky. His shirt was torn, streaked with dirt and blood, and his face bore a fresh collection of cuts and bruises. His shoulders sagged under the weight of exhaustion, his steps slow and measured.

But when his eyes found yours, he smiled.

Even battered and bloodied, he’d never looked more handsome. His beard, grown in over the time he’d been away, gave him a rugged edge, and his blue eyes still held that quiet strength you’d always admired.

The moment your gaze met his, something in you broke. You ran to him, barely aware of your surroundings, and threw your arms around him.

“Steve,” you sobbed, burying your face in his chest. His shirt was rough against your skin, damp with sweat and blood, but you didn’t care. “I was so scared. I thought… I thought I might lose you.”

His arms wrapped around you tightly, his grip strong despite his obvious exhaustion. “I’m okay,” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. “I’m here.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, tears streaming down your face. “You have to be more careful,” you said, your voice trembling. “You can’t… you can’t do this to me, Steve.”

His expression softened, and he reached up to brush a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What happened?” you asked, your voice cracking. “What went wrong?”

To your surprise, Steve didn’t hesitate. He guided you to a quieter corner, his hand resting lightly on your back, and began to explain.

“The mission was supposed to be straightforward,” he said, his voice low but steady. “But things went sideways fast. There were more hostiles than we anticipated, and Bucky got hit—bad. I couldn’t leave him behind, so I…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

“You carried him out,” you finished, your throat tightening.

Steve nodded, his eyes meeting yours. “I wasn’t going to leave him, no matter what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just from fear. They were from the overwhelming realization of who Steve truly was—the man who would sacrifice everything for the people he cared about.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice softer now. “I won’t make that mistake again. And if you’re willing to listen, I’ll tell you everything—about the missions, about what’s going on with me. No more shutting you out.”

You stared at him, your chest tight with a mixture of love and fear and hope. Slowly, you nodded. “I’m listening,” you said.

And as he began to speak, you felt the cracks in your heart begin to mend, one word at a time.

***

Steve stayed with you after the medics whisked Bucky away to the infirmary. He’d insisted Bucky was in good hands, though you could see the guilt still lingering in his eyes. You sat together in one of the quieter rooms in the Tower, the tension from the mission still clinging to him like a second skin.

Despite his exhaustion, he refused to let go of your hand.

“You don’t have to stay,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you sat beside him. “I know it’s late.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

He gave you a small, tired smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re too good to me.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “No, Steve. I’m just—” You paused, searching for the right words. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging as the adrenaline that had sustained him through the mission began to fade. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?”

“For everything,” he replied, meeting your gaze with a vulnerability that left you breathless. “For scaring you, for shutting you out before… for making you feel like you weren’t enough. I know I’ve said it before, but I need you to know I mean it.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. For a long moment, you didn’t respond, your chest tight as you tried to process the enormity of what he was saying.

“I was so scared today,” you admitted finally, your voice trembling. “When Nat texted me, when we didn’t know if you were okay… it was like the ground had been ripped out from under me.” You swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “I realized then how stupid these past few months have been. I was so caught up in my own hurt, my own doubts, that I didn’t see what we were losing.”

Steve’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his blue eyes locked on yours. “You weren’t wrong to feel that way,” he said softly. “You had every right to be hurt, to doubt me. I earned that. But I don’t want to lose you, baby. Not now. Not ever.”

His words broke something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his.

“Don’t you dare scare me like that again,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice steady and resolute.

***

The days following the mission passed in a haze of quiet moments and tentative steps forward. Steve stayed at the Tower to help Bucky recover, but he checked in with you constantly. Sometimes it was a quick text—How are you? Did you eat today?—and sometimes it was a phone call that lasted longer than either of you expected.

You visited the Tower often, bringing Bucky some of his favorite snacks and sitting with him while Steve caught up on reports. Bucky teased you relentlessly, of course, his dry humor cutting through the tension in ways only he could manage.

“So,” he said one afternoon, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “When are you two going to stop tiptoeing around and just admit you’re back together?”

You nearly choked on your coffee. “We’re not—”

“Sure,” Bucky interrupted, smirking. “And I’m the King of Wakanda.”

Steve, who had just entered the room, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, glaring at Bucky.

“Just pointing out the obvious,” Bucky said with a shrug, earning himself an eye-roll from both you and Steve.

Despite his teasing, Bucky’s words stayed with you. He wasn’t entirely wrong. The way you and Steve interacted had changed since the mission. There was a closeness now, a sense of trust that hadn’t been there before.

***

One evening, Steve invited you to dinner at the Tower. He didn’t call it a date, and you didn’t press him on it, but there was something deliberate about the way he’d set the table, the candles he’d lit, the care he’d taken with every detail.

The two of you sat across from each other, the soft glow of the candles casting warm light over his face. For a while, you just talked—about work, about Bucky’s recovery, about the books you’d been reading. The conversation flowed easily, the tension that had once lingered between you finally gone.

At one point, Steve leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said,” he began, his voice steady but quiet. “About how scared you were. How I need to be more careful.”

You frowned slightly. “Steve, I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. I know your work is dangerous. I’ve always known that.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “But you were right. I can’t keep doing this—not without being honest with you about what’s going on. If I’m asking you to be part of my life, I need to make sure you feel like you’re part of it.”

His words sent a warmth through your chest, a feeling of being truly seen and valued. “I appreciate that,” you said softly.

Steve smiled, and for the first time in weeks, it felt like everything between you was falling into place.

***

As the night wore on, the conversation grew quieter, more intimate. Steve reached across the table, his hand brushing yours.

“I know we can’t go back to how things were before,” he said, his voice low but firm. “But I think we can build something better. Something stronger. If you’ll let me.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no doubt. Just quiet determination and a love that felt as steady and unshakable as the man himself.

“I want that too,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smile widened, and for the first time in months, you felt the weight in your chest begin to lift.

It wasn’t a perfect ending. There were still things to work through, still scars to heal. But as Steve reached for your hand, his grip warm and sure, you knew you were ready to take the next step—together.

196 notes · View notes

allisluv · 1 month ago

Note

finnick odair and you having a little fun (wink wink) on mother’s day after the kids are tucked in?

mothers day.

pairing: finnick o'dair x wife!reader

content warnings: nsfw. set post rebellion but its not specified. finnick and reader have a daughter. reader is a bit bratty ngl. pet names (angel and baby). references to reader as "mine" and a "good girl". oral sex (f!recieving). unprotected p in iv -- please wrap it before you tap it. begging. finnick is a menace but we love him. he is also big on consent. flirting and teasing. not proofread we die like heroes or whatever. if theres anything else pls lmk!

word count: 2.6k

a/n: okay so i never intended this to be this long but i got really carried away with it lmao! happy new year everyone! here's to lots more fics this coming year! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

When your husband told you he would be going all out on Mothers Day, you hadn’t believed him. Then again, more fool you, because if there was one thing you should have known about Finnick O’Dair in all the years you had known him, it was that he always followed through on his promises.

You’re woken up to your toddler, Cordelia, jumping on the bed. You can faintly make out Finnick’s half- assed attempt at scolding her— hes not doing a very good job at being stern. Despite the fact that you are in sleep’s greedy clutches, you still know that he has a soft spot for his daughter, and he rarely ever gives out to her.

Youre treated to breakfast in bed that morning, with all your favourite foods piled high on a plate, and a selection of drinks on the bedside table. You almost laugh at how sweet the gesture is.

Then comes the onslaught of presents. Finnick waits (impatiently) as Cordelia runs to her room to get the gift bag. He takes advantage of that time, though, by setting the tray on the floor and peppering your face with kisses. “I love you.”

You chuckle, squirming under his touch as he nips at the sensitive spot behind your ear. “Well, I love you more.”

Finnick arches an amused brow and pulls away just enough so he can look at you. “Is that so?” He grins and two dimples carve their way into the skin above his mouth.

You wind your arms around his neck, which doesn’t take much effort on your side, considering you have easy access to him with the way he’s hovering over you on the bed. “Mhm. It’s a scientific fact.”

“A fact, you say.”

“A scientific one,” You correct him.

Finnick hums non-committedly. “Ah. Silly me.” He brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face. “And where exactly, pray tell, would one find evidence of this scientific fact?”

You mull his words over in your mind for a minute before shrugging. “Hm. Good question.”

“One that you can’t answer.” He points out.

“Hey, you can’t correct me on Mother’s Day!” You argue, but there’s no real bite behind your tone.

Finnick rolls his eyes fondly and is about to open his mouth and spew out a smart remark when the sound of tiny feet slapping against the hard-wood floors echoes through the hallway. He chuckles to himself and presses one more kiss to the skin that your night-dress leaves exposed before rolling off of you and settling beside you on the bed.

Cordelia comes bouncing into the bedroom, two gift bags clutched in hand. She settles inbetween both of you and starts rifling through the first bag.

Cordelia gives you a home-made card and a picture frame with a photo of the three of you in it. Finnick gifts you a bunch of your favourite flowers, a dainty silver locket and a couple of shells that he collected from the beach.

As your daughter tries to find an appropriate place to display her photo frame, Finnick leans in close to you. His lips brush the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “You’ll get your other present when the little one’s in bed.”

You can feel his smile as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You quirk a brow in amusement. “Ah. I like the sound of that.”

Finnick chuckles under his breath. “Yeah, I knew you would.” His lips skim your jawline as he places a feather-light kiss to the skin there. “Come on. I’ve got a dinner to prepare and I can’t do it without my favourite girl with me.”

“And mommy!” Cordelia pipes up.

Finnick snickers. “I was talking about mommy, you silly goose.” Cordelia scoffs— for a three-year-old, she has a hell of a lot of sass. (Finnick says she gets it from you but you’ll agree to disagree on that one). “Come on then. You can help with dinner while we let mommy put her feet up.”

Cordelia perks up at the prospect of helping. “We’re making lasagna!” She announces.

Finnick groans good-naturedly. “And there goes the surprise.”

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

The rest of the day flies by in a blur of pampering and fussing. Cordelia has decided to take a leaf out of her fathers book for the day and is giving you the princess treatment.

As it grows dark outside and the movie on the tv in your bedroom starts to roll to an end, Cordelia starts to drift off in between you and Finnick. He decides that it’s time for bed. “Stay there,” he murmurs as he lifts her into his arms. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be waiting,” You tease.

Finnick gives you a smile as he cradles Cordelia’s body in his calloused palms and disappears into her bedroom.

In a matter of minutes, he’s back in the privacy of your own bedroom and as soon as the door is closed behind him, he makes a beeline for you. He crawls up the length of the bed and hovers over you, doing nothing but staring. “Well?” You roll your eyes impatiently.

“Well what, angel?”

“Well, are you gonna put your mouth to good use or you gonna keep staring all night long?”

Finnick chuckles under his breath and fondly shakes his head. “So bossy.” He teases, but presses a kiss to the skin of your jaw. “So impatient, hm?” He catches your ear lobe between his teeth. “So needy.” He moves to suck a hickey into your neck. “So mine.” He slots his lips over your own.

You groan into his mouth and he eagerly swallows it back. Already, you can feel the slick in between your legs, and its honestly pathetic how wet you are from the simplest of touches. But Finnick hums into your mouth and all of a sudden, you can’t find it in yourself to focus on anything other than how good he’s making you feel.

His touch is tentative, almost feather-light. His deft fingers ghost down the skin of your waist, tracing a pattern into the places that he knows will make you squirm, before finally settling on your hips.

He nibbles on your bottom lip softly. You whine and he smiles into the kiss— he’s always had a thing for hearing you and it shows. His fingers trail lower and lower, but it’s far too slow for your liking. You huff out a sigh but wait it out; you know Finnick and you know that if you start demanding him to go quicker, he will only be more inclined to tease you.

Finnick can sense your patience and he rewards you by kissing you softly. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and slips his tongue into your mouth.

After what feels like a lifetime, but can realistically only be a few seconds at the most, he bunches the fabric of your nightdress up around your hips and moves down your body, pressing kisses as he goes.

His eyes are blown wide with lust when he inches lower down the bed, and finally gets to be eye-level with your panties. “So pretty,” he praises, nipping at the soft flesh of your thigh. You moan and you feel him smile against your skin. “Can I take these off? I want to see all of you, angel.”

You nod but Finnick only clicks his tongue and tries to pull away from you. Before he can get far, you’re guiding him back towards your core by his hair. “I– yeah. Take them off.”

Your voice is desperate and wrecked, even to your own ears, but you’re too on edge to care.

Finnick grins and nips his way up your thigh again. He grabs the soft fabric between his teeth and hooks his fingers through the waistband, tantalizingly and slowly yanking your underwear down your legs. He waits until theyre at your ankles before pulling them all the way off and discarding them somewhere else in the room. He hums. “That’s better.”

He kisses his way back up your leg, stops at your core, and drinks you in. You whine and he raises a brow. “Got something to say, angel?”

“Finnick,” You growl.

“Yes?” He smiles smugly.

“Stop staring already.”

“What do you want me to do instead?” “Touch me.”

“Touch me…”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Please. Touch me please.”

Finnick smiles. “Good girl.” Without warning, he licks a stripe up your core. You gasp, hips bucking forward, and his hands fly out to keep you in place. He traces tight circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue, before suctioning his mouth around it and sucking.

Wanton moans spill from your lips, and he picks up his pace. Finnick’s done this many a time, and every time feels better than the last. Some would even say he knows your body better than you know yourself, and to that, you couldnt disagree.

He knows exactly what to do to have you weak in the knees and, in what must be record time, your thighs have clamped around his head and you’re cumming from his mouth alone, his name falling like a prayer from your lips.

He works you through your orgasm, and when you come down from your high, he presses a soft kiss to your sensitive clit. The whine that slips out of your mouth is high-pitched and he can’t help but smile as he crawls back up your body and kisses you.

He sits up, straddling your waist as he looks at you. You tug at his shirt, eyes still glazed over from the pleasure of your orgasm. “Off.”

Finnick chuckles. “Giving demands now, are we?”

You huff and tug at the hem of his shirt once more. “Need to feel you. Please.” You give him your best puppy-dog eyes and he laughs, but obliges, pulling his shirt over his head. Your hands find home on the defined, hard ridges of his abs. “And you can lose the pants while you’re at it, too.”

Finnick lets out a huff of amusement but rolls off of you and stands. In one swift motion, he pulls off his sweatpants and discards them with your underwear, before hovering back over you. Your hand palms his hard cock through his boxers and he groans, hiding his head in the crook of your neck. “Careful, angel. Keep going like that and I’ll come in my pants like a teenager before things have even had a chance to get started.”

You move your hand, but buck your hips into his instead. He groans again and nips your neck in way of warning. You ignore him and roll your hips once more. “Let me take care of you, too,” You whisper.

“Jesus Christ, you’ll be the death of me.” Finnick murmurs into your neck before kissing you again.

“Can I suck you off?”

Finnick shakes his head fondly. “Another day, baby. Today is about you, and only you.”

Your heart melts, but you cant resist getting one last jab in there. “Hm. Bold of you to assume there’ll be another opportunity.”

Finnick laughs and nips your neck again, this time hard enough to leave a mark. “Oi. Watch it.”

“Or what?” You challenge.

“Sorry, did you want me to fuck you tonight? Cause I can always leave you hanging if you prefer.”

You roll your eyes. He’s got you there and the smug smile on his face tells you that he knows it, too.

“Sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you, angel.”

You huff out a sigh. “Fuck me.”

Finnick hums thoughtfully as if he’s debating it, but you can feel the tip of his hard cock poking at your dripping entrance teasingly. It’s just enough to have you on edge again. “I will— but only if you ask me nicely.”

You groan and try to push against him but his hands fly down to your hips, keeping you firmly pinned in place. “Finn, don’t be a tease.”

“I’m not being a tease,” Finnick shrugs, pushing in just enough to have your back arching off of the bed. He laughs. Bastard, you think. “You know I’ll give you what I want, angel. All you have to do is ask me.”

“I’m not begging,” You protest.

Finnick laughs. “That’s a bold-faced lie and we both know it, baby.” He pushes in another inch before he pulls out completely, leaving you whining. “Come on. You can do it. Ask me.”

“Finnick,” You groan, but he doesn’t move. Finally, you sigh and resign to your fate. “Please. ‘M asking nicely. Just fuck me already.”

The words have no sooner left your lips before he’s pushing back into you. The breath is nearly knocked out of your lungs and Finnick slows down, soothing you with gentle words of reassurance and careful, soft caresses. “I know, baby. I know. You’re doing so well. Taking me like a good girl. My good girl. So good, angel.”

Slowly but surely, he pushes into you, inch by inch, until he’s buried to the hilt. You wriggle your hips at him and he takes the hint, pulling out of you before pushing back in again.

The thing about Finnick is, even when he is fucking you hard and fast, there is still always an element of love-making to it. No matter how rough he is, there will always be something he does that reminds you of how much he loves you.

“God, you feel so good,” He groans, nipping at the skin of your neck. You grab him by the hair and pull him impossibly closer, winding your arms around his neck when he’s near enough.

“I’m close,” You whine, sucking a hickey onto his chest. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum.”

Finnick’s thrusts get sloppier as he gets closer to the edge himself, and you can feel that too familiar coil tightening in the depths of your stomach. He moves in and bites at the spot right behind your ear that he knows drives you wild. “You gonna cum? Come on, angel, I know you’re close. Can feel you clenching around me like a god-damn vice. Christ, I love you so much. Want you to cum. You think you’ll be able to do that for me? Can my pretty baby cum for me? Come on, I know you can—”

Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave and Finnick isnt far behind you. You can feel him spilling inside of you, and your cunt flutters as his cock pulses and his thrusts get sloppier yet again. “Finnick!”

He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and bites, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to help you ride out your orgasm. He whispers words of praise as you both come down from your highs.

You pull him in for a kiss and pant into his mouth. Finnick’s tongue dances with yours and his breath is heavy and strained as he tries to catch his breath. He pulls out of you and swallows your whine of protest with yet another kiss. “I know, angel, I know,” He mumbles, caressing your hair as he rolls off of you and pulls you down to lie flush against his chest.

You nuzzle into his chest, craving the warmth of his body and he wraps his arms around you tightly. You press a lazy kiss to his chest and he laughs into your hair. “Feeling better?”

“Best Mother’s Day present ever.”

He chuckles. “Well, there’s more to that present.”

You quirk a brow. “Do tell.”

Finnick kisses your temple. “Well, you should know by now that I’m not a one round man.” He teases.

You whack his chest playfully. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Is that a no?”

“Of course it’s not.” Finnick chuckles. “Now, who’s the insatiable one, huh?”

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kissitbttr · 10 months ago

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how would frat!mig be in a huge argument w his girl?? idk a part of me feels like he’d be lowk immature abt it. of course he makes up to her un the end bc i cant stand angst 👎👎🧌

oh very

—

“so that’s it? you’re not even going to talk to me?” miguel stares at your moving figure, who’s hastily picking up a fresh shirt from the dryer. “never realized i’m actually dating a child” he scoffs when you don’t answer to him,

before the two of you started dating, you already knew how many girls miguel had swept off their feet. the ex-girlfriends, the jealous glares, the talking in between groups. it does brings the greatest displeasure in you to witness all of that. but miguel’s top priority is to ease your worries, and he doesn’t want to lose you over something that’s not worth to be talked about.

but the thing is, miguel sometimes forget how to set boundaries. almost like he’s not even trying anymore.

like today during practice. when you were practicing your tumblings and routines whilst miguel did his football drills. your eyes fell upon a familiar blonde girl from the volleyball team making her way towards your boyfriend.

it’s not like you don’t allow miguel to talk with other girls, you’re not as insane. letting a girl touch and feel his biceps is another story. you don’t need a damn book to know what the girl’s intentions are. obviously she was being flirty. blinking her eyes up at him, subtly biting her lip though knowing he’s taken.

the girl was previously known to be acting like a total slut. not that you’re shaming her when it really is a fact. prances herself around other guys even though their taken. you and gloria shares the same mutual dislike towards her when she had told you how the blonde kept trying to get into beck’s pants. thankfully, beck knows how to handle it.

so you waited. waited and watched at how your boyfriend would respond. instead he did nothing. nothing but a smile on his face without brushing the girl’s touch. they carried on a small talk

it broke your heart. and to some, it may sound a little bit too exaggerated but they wouldn’t know for sure until their partner was being felt up by other people and them not doing anything about it.

you were about to make your way towards the two of them, wanting nothing but to rip that girl’s hair off of him but stopping when your coach calls you to inform the practice is starting soon,

your mind wasn’t at ease for one bit during practice.

“i’m a child for wanting to communicate over what happened today? yeah, sure. talk your fucking shit, o’hara” you reply to him, rolling your eyes as you furiously toss your other belongings into a bag. “a real keeper you are”

the sound of his last name falls upon your lips doesn’t feel right to him. sure, you may have called him that in a fun manner but he knows that this time you’re actually pissed.

and miguel is not an expert at expressing his feelings and emotions. he’s got a lot to learn. the only way he knows how it to use anger and frustrations, which is something that he should control. especially when he’s talking to you.

“por el amor de dios! are you serious? we’re still on about that?! get over it, muñeca. it’s not a big of a deal!” he exclaims, removing his shirt before throwing it away on the nearest chair of his room,

“not a big of a deal?!” your tone rising as you walk out of the bathroom to see him. “you let another girl felt you up, letting her get close to you and you said that it was nothing?! are you out of your mind!”

“veronica and i were just talking! am i not allowed to talk to other girls simply because i’m dating you? that’s quite ridiculous, baby” he chuckles but there’s no humor in it, almost like he’s mocking you. receiving a baffled look from you.

“stop putting words in my mouth, that’s not what i said! you missed the part where i said you were letting another girl touching you, when you already have a girlfriend!” you point at him, trying to get him to understand but it seems like it’s no use. seeing him only roll his eyes and dismissing your words with a wave of his hand. it furthers your already broken heart to more pieces,

“fucking immature little shit” you spit, going back to zip up your bag,

he laughs loudly at that, shaking his head. “look who’s talking!” he turns around to face you. “i can’t control the people that like me, sweetheart. what am i supposed to do with that?”

“you really are entitled and narcissistic” you laugh sadly, “maybe try setting up boundaries between people especially girls? ever thought of that?”

“ever thought about not being insecure and jealous all the time? may come off handy”

and that does it. the words just pierced right through your heart, making you stop your movements all together.

never thought in your life that miguel would be the one person to say all of that to you. is that how he views you as? a insecure girl?

is it wrong that you love your boyfriend so much that you want him all to himself and for him to learn how to listen to you?

“if that’s how you feel, then maybe we should just end it here” your eyes turning glossy, trying not to break down in front of him. “if you missed being flirted by other girls or flirting back to your flings, then i am not stopping you. so instead of making me feel like shit, calling me insecure, we should just see other people”

that’s not what miguel had expected you to say. his blood runs cold, face faltering at your suggestion because that is not what he wants. not at all.

hearing what he just said to you makes him want to crawl into a hole and let himself die. he didn’t mean it! he didn’t mean what he said, he’s just grown tired of this argument that he wanted nothing but to end it. yet instead of making you feel secured and listen to you, he chooses the latter.

holy fuck, o’hara what have you done?!

“wh—n-no! muñeca, I didn’t mean what i said, i did—“ he stutters, walking closer towards you only for you to step back. “baby please i wasn’t thinking—“

“exactly! you weren’t!” you yell, picking up your bag and getting ready to walk out of his room, the frat house and his life for good. “i’m giving you, your freedom card from now on”

this can’t be it, right? fuck, no, no, no

“you’re not leaving” he says while trailing you from behind, hands shaking at mind in scrambles at the thought of you walking out of him for good. “y/n please—please don’t leave me—i’m sorry—i—i cut off every girls on campus if you want me to, just stay—please” he tries to reach out to you but your pace is quicker while walking down the stairs, ignoring the looks from some of his frat brothers,

shaking your head, you try to ignore the pain in his voice. part of you wants to hug him and tell him that you won’t be going anywhere. but part of you realize that this time, you need to put yourself first. because as much as you love him, you love yourself more,

this is going to be painful.

“that’s not what i want you to do, i just— i can’t do this, miguel. at least not now” your head shaking, voice lowering to prevent the eavesdropping ears from the kitchen. “i—i need to think, for a while. competition is coming up and exams are too—everything is just so overwhelming. i think we need a break. i think you need a break”

“a break?! I don’t need a break. i need you” his voice cracking, tears welling up in his eyes as he gathers your hands quickly and pull them into his chest. “i love you, muñeca—please—i’m so sorry—i’ll do better i promise. just stay, por favor”

his eyes are pleading at you, staring intently into your eyes as his grip tighten around your smaller hands. for just one second, you almost cave in.

almost,

you smile sadly, “just give it a week or two, okay? and we’ll see after that”

but miguel doesn’t need a week or two. he doesn’t need to see after. he knows who he wants to spend the rest of his life with. he knows who he wants to marry. he knows who he wants to have his kids with.

and it’s always going to be you, no one else.

however looking at the state of you now, miguel has no right to force you to do anything. he cares too deeply about you,

so he complies,

“o-okay” he nods and agrees with a heavy heart. “if that’s what you want—i’ll give you space, but just know that you’re the only one that i want. the only girl i want to have by my side. keep that in mind, okay?”

a small smile appears on your lips, as you reach up in your tippy toes and give him a soft kiss on his cheek before you turn around and open the door. giving him one last look and walk out of the house, carrying his heart as you do.

miguel breathes out a shaky sigh, watching the door closes. his tears are rolling down his cheeks without him realizing.

without you here right now, what else is he supposed to do?

—

don’t worry, i’ll make these two make up :)) i just think that miguel needs to be humbled rn lmao

also, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated xx

#frat!miguel

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empresskylo · 11 months ago

Text

'*•.¸♡ — simon 'ghost' riley' x fem!reader

you wanna kiss me so bad — part 2 (wc 1.4k)

part 1 [this can still be read w/o reading pt 1]

You had taken Ghost’s jests in stride. He clearly wanted to one-up you; wanting to show you and Soap he could be just as comical.

At least he wasn’t angry when you teased him. But still, you hadn’t expected him to respond the way he had.

You were used to playful teasing, like you would with a sibling. And normally, you could handle crude remarks, always making those with Soap. But when it came to Ghost, something about the way he said them bothered you more than it should have.

You had refrained from talking to Ghost, saving anything you had to say for a later date. Ghost found your response… odd. You went from slowly opening up, joking with the team lightheartedly, to closed off and seemingly lacking any ounce of humor.

You pulled your jacket tighter as you made it outside, spotting Soap and Ghost up ahead, loading the truck for the upcoming mission.

Ghost stopped what he was doing and stared at you. You froze, your brows furrowing at his sudden shift. Even Soap paused what he was doing to look up at Lt.

“Yes?” You asked him, a bit confused.

“You’re wearing that?” Ghost asked you exasperated, his eyes looking you up and down.

You felt your face heat. You were literally wearing the same outfit as half the men on the team. It was a uniform after all. He sounded like Soap with his stupid joke. “I guess I am,” you mumbled. You leaned over and picked up a crate to shove on the truck.

Soap smirked, clearly entertained by the awkwardness between you and Ghost.

You loaded the gear quietly for several moments before Ghost met your rhythm, walking beside you as you both carried duffel bags.

“Calling me stupid one minute, t’not having my jokes at all,” he mumbled. “Can’t seem to figure you out.”

He thought you might not answer him again. You huffed as you tossed the bag onto the truck then turned to face him. “You ever considered the fact that maybe you’re just not that good at puzzles?”

You couldn’t see, but Ghost smiled under his mask. Soap snickered in the background. Ghost turned and leaned against the truck, all the gear loaded up, and crossed his arms.

“Guess I just prefer a more hands-on approach.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. You averted his eyes, trying to act like his words weren’t flustering you. Teasing was so much more fun when it was just ludicrous jabs. Whatever this was that Ghost kept pulling, was leaving you speechless, and you hated it. You wonder if you’d respond the same if it was anyone else saying these things to you.

Soap bumped his shoulder against Ghost, finally forcing his eyes away from you. “If y’need the practice L.t., I wouldn’t mind—”

“If you finish that sentence, Johnny, I swear to god.”

Soap laughed and climbed into the back of the humvee.

You refrained from glaring at Ghost the entire ride, though it took a lot of willpower. You swear you could feel the heat of his gaze along your neck. You were determined to fluster him like he had been doing to you.

And of course, when the team split up, you were somehow stuck with Ghost. It’s like the gods enjoyed torturing you.

You clutched the sniper closer to your chest, the winter wind sending a chill down your spine. You followed Ghost in silence to the lookout point, your boots crunching the half-melted snow.

Once on target, you laid prone on your stomach, aiming your rifle into the distance. You checked down the barrel, looking out for any of the men on your team, trying to spot them. Ghost still hadn’t gotten down beside you yet.

“Squattin’ too hard on the joints, Lt.?” You teased, keeping your one eye squared through your scope.

“If you’re as good a shot as you are at runnin’ your mouth, this is a shoe in,” he muttered, a bit annoyed. You grinned, knowing he couldn’t see, with a bit of satisfaction at getting under his skin.

Ten minutes had passed and still nothing had happened. You got up onto your knees and looked over at Ghost. He was sitting in the same position, tapping on his tablet to locate the men. You noticed his fingers turning red from the cold, his gloves tucked up under his arm so he could use the screen.

“Pretty cold out here, Lt.,” you began casually.

His eyes flickered to you briefly before going right back to what he was doing.

“Should hold my hand. You know… so it doesn’t freeze.”

You heard Ghost laugh through his nose, his eyes still focused downward.

You turned back to your sniper and saw Ghost shift out of the corner of your eye. You glanced over and you bit your lip to keep from gaping. Ghost had continued what he was doing, but his free hand was nonchalantly outstretched, palm open and turned up for you to take as he concentrated on the GPS tracker.

When you didn’t take his hand he looked up. “What? That all talk, then?” He mocked.

This whole teasing thing didn’t really work when the participating party wanted all the stupid things you offered.

You decided to play things his way then. You reached out and slid your hand into his. He glared at you, almost like he was overly confident you weren’t going to call his bluff.

You wanted to show him you were just as committed to the bit as he was.

“Didn’t take you for the affectionate type, Lieutenant.” You laced your fingers together and gave him a saccharine smile.

He shook his head, shoving his tool back into his bag before tugging you towards him, his grip firm around your hand. “Affection is a weakness,” he explained.

“Oh! So is that why you haven’t kissed me yet? Afraid to be weak?”

He knew exactly what you were doing. You were intimidated when he fired remarks back at you, ones that stumped you and left you flustered. You were trying to outdo him; to make him flustered. And Ghost was more than pleased.

He tugged you so close you had to use your hand not tangled in his to catch his chest, stopping you from flying into him.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?”

“So, what if I would?” You threw his words from the other day back at him.

“This is a game you can’t win, sergeant,” he growled out, his eyes locked on yours, unwavering as he stared you down.

“No? N’ why’s that?” You asked cooly, trying to mask the fact that your heart was racing. “You think I’m lying?” You were… weren’t you?

Ghost’s eyes narrowed, his mind reeling behind his glare. You swallowed and he traced the way your throat bobbed. Before you had the chance to say more, Ghost used his free hand to push his mask up to his nose, baring his chin and lips to you. He grabbed the front of your tactical vest, his fingers looping into the fabric, and pulled you level with him, your eyes turning to moons.

“What are ya gonna have t’say once I prove ya wrong?” He asked.

You bit your lip, steadying your rapid breaths. “You won’t.”

Ghost grinned and you were so shocked by seeing his mouth for the first time, watching his lips tip up into a smile, that you didn’t realize he had closed the distance between the two of you until it was too late.

The kiss wasn’t long, just enough to be more than a peck. You were surprised at how soft his lips were, and how his faint stubble tickled.

He broke apart, pushing you backwards and dropping both his hands.

Maybe he had taken things too far. He averted his gaze while you stared up at him dumbly. Ghost smirked, a bit too proud of himself for stumping you. And he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t actually wanted to kiss you. No, he was itching to kiss you far more than what just unfolded.

“At least that got you to finally shut your mouth.” You could hear the playful lilt in his voice and it made your chest beat rapidly. You never expected to share a kiss with your lieutenant. And you never thought you’d catch feelings for him. But here you were.

What had you gotten yourself into?

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #mw3 #ghost mw3

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munsonsmixtapes · 6 months ago

Note

Hi! Can I request a Tyler Owens fic based off of shut up and drive by Rihanna! I know it’s not a lot to work with so feel free to do whatever ☺️

I love writing songs fics!

Tyler Owens x fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, oral (f receiving)

The house was super packed when you entered it, the amount of people and loud music overwhelming your senses. If you were being honest, you didn't even want to be there, but only gave in when your friends had begged you to. They pulled you into the kitchen where all of the drinks were and you gladly followed, wanting nothing more than to get a few drinks into your system to calm you down.

Kyra poured you a glass of white wine and you gratefully accepted it, downing it quicker than you should have. You held out your cup for more and she eyed you suspiciously as she poured more of the beverage into your cup. You thanked her and turned on your heel, looking for a place to sit.

As you got to the entrance of the kitchen, you ran into a hard chest, hearing a chuckle rumble from it. You looked up into the most beautiful green eyes you had ever seen, feeling yourself wanting to fall into the mossy color.

His hands moved to your waist to steady you and you could practically feel their warmth through your top that his gaze had moved to. It complimented your skin perfectly and hugged you in all of the right places, almost as if it was made specifically for you.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze.

"Nothing to be sorry for," he shook his head. "Not from around here, are you? I think I would have recognized a pretty little thing like you.”

“And I think that’s a line. Gonna have to try a little harder to get my attention, cowboy.” You tried to push past him, but he blocked your path.

“How about a dance?” He asked as he rested his arm on the door frame. “Or maybe a drink?”

“No thanks,” you shook your head. “I already have a drink and I don’t dance.”

Tyler removed his arm from door frame and let you past, not able to help himself from looking at your ass as you moved into the living room. He wanted to know what it felt like, letting his mind drift off to a hot fantasy of the two of you.

He could just see himself sticking his hands into the back pockets of your jeans as he gave your ass a squeeze, swallowing your gasp with his lips. He wanted to know what they tasted like, your lip gloss giving them a pretty sheen.

Most women tried to play hard to get and he was always turned on by that. He didn’t just love to chase tornadoes, women were also very fun to run after. He followed you into the living room, feeling hypnotized by you. It was as if his feet had a mind of their own, carrying him through all of the bodies. He felt like a sailor being lured to his death by a siren. And that seemed like a damn good way to die.

He could see you still as you got further ahead of him, trying not to lose track of you. There was no way that he was letting you get away from him. Not that easily. He was going to take no for an answer, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t at least be near you.

You got to the center of the makeshift dance floor and the second your eyes locked on Tyler’s, he knew that he was a goner. Your eyes were locked on him as you began to dance much more sensually than you were used to. You didn’t know why you were wanting to show him what he couldn’t have.

He slowly weaved his way through the people keeping him from you and stood in front of you, resisting the urge to stand behind you as your bodies moved in tandem.

“Like what you see, cowboy?” You asked, a flirty look forming in your eyes. You had him exactly where you wanted him and you didn’t even have to do much. You thought it would have taken a bit more to reel him, but he had already grabbed onto the hook.

“Oh, I love what I see.” You grabbed hold of his hands and set them on your waist. You then turned around and pressed your ass to his crotch, grinding against it. His grip on your waist tightened, and you could have sworn that you could hear him moan.

"Just dancing," you said, looking over your shoulder. Tyler just nodded, moving his hands to your shoulders, turning you around to face him as a slower tempo song began to play.

"Then let's dance," he replied, his hands moving higher up your back. "You know, I never got your name."

"I don't know why you'd need that." You were perfectly fine with not sharing names. It added a bit of mystery to your interaction.

"Because I'd love to know the name of the prettiest girl in the room." That had to be the worst pick up line you had ever heard. You figured that he didn't have to try as hard because of his looks, but you really hoped that he didn't actually use that one on a regular basis.

"Gross, does that actually work for you?" You pulled away from him a bit, eyeing him suspiciously. If you were being honest, the whole cowboy thing was working for you even if you wouldn't admit it. Maybe he actually was charming or you just hadn't slept with anyone in so long that you were just desperate to get laid.

"Every time," he winked and all you could do was grimace.

"Tell me yours first."

"It's Tyler." Tyler. The name suited him.

"Y/n."

"Y/n," he repeated with a smile and you swore that your knees were going to give out between the mixture of his pretty mouth and the way your name fell off his lips. You could just imagine what he sounded like moaning your name and now you were getting a little too wet for your liking between your legs. "I like that."

"I like yours too."

"You're actually paying me a compliment?" He feigned shock with a dramatic gasp. "Well, I never thought I'd see the day."

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed onto his belt loops and pulled him closer, Tyler letting out a yelp as you did so. You were suddenly finding him irresistible, your eyes shifting to his lips that he was running his tongue over, making you want him even more.

"Woah, darlin'," he chuckled. "Can't resist me, can you?"

"You got me. So are we going to do this or what?"

"Only if you want to. I don't want to force you into something that would make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable. I was just playing hard to get."

"You didn't have to do that," he said, inching his face closer to yours. "I've had my eyes on you all night."

"Well, now you're chance to have me. Don't blow it," you responded, closing the gap between the two of you, capturing his bottom lip between his two. You were close to moaning at the feeling, not having kissed anyone in far too long for your liking.

Your arms wrapped around waist as his went to your shoulder, tilting his head to the side so he could kiss you from another angle. Suddenly, you were the only ones there, so wrapped up in each other that it felt like everyone else had disappeared.

Just as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip, you pulled away, noticing nothing else but his pretty green eyes, his pupils that had blown wide. You said nothing and removed your hands from his waist, offering him one of them that he took with no question. You led him through the crowd, making a beeline for the stairs.

You weren’t looking at him, but he was trying to fight the smile on his face. He had barely done anything and now he was about to sleep with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Maybe someone up there actually liked him. Just when he was about to go home, you showed up, a bright spotlight shining down on you. He was drawn to you immediately and the fact that you didn’t seem interested at first only made him want you more.

You got up the stairs, on the hunt for an available room and found one, pulling Tyler into it. You let the door slam closed behind you before you pressed your lips to his again, this time more hungrily. He was quick to respond, matching your eagerness by dipping his tongue into your mouth.

“I’ve been looking for someone who’s qualified. Do you think you are?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded enthusiastically.

“Good,” you responded then placed your lips on his once again.

You tasted so good that there was no way he could kiss anyone else. He could have just made out with you for the rest of the night and been satisfied. Your lips were soft and they tasted like a mixture of whatever flavor your lipgloss was and the white wine you had been sipping on. It was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough of you, already wanting more like the greedy man he was.

Your hands moved to his shirt and you began to unbutton his shirt as Tyler’s hand traveled south to your jeans. He got them undone in record speed and dipped his hand down into your panties, on the hunt for your pussy. He found it as soon as you got his shirt unbuttoned and his fingers found their way into your cunt, causing the most delicious moan to fall from your lips.

“Already wet for me, hm?” He asked as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, his movements slow because he wanted you to beg for him.

“And you’re already hard,” you replied, your eyes moving to his cock that was already tenting in his jeans. His movements suddenly got a little faster and you moaned again, turning your back to him, pressing it to his chest so he had more access to you.

Your head leaned against his shoulder and Tyler turned to get a good view of your face, wondering what you would look like when he got inside you if you were already coming this undone just from his fingers. He just knew you’d look hot when you moaned and he was so right. In fact, you were even more hot than he had been imagining. Seeing your eyes shut tight and your mouth wide open as more moans fell from them was making him even harder.

“Oh,” you moaned. “So good.”

“Yeah? You like that?” He asked as he pumped even harder and faster, curving them, hitting just the right spot to make you scream.

“Tyler, oh my god.” He pulled his fingers out and waited for you to come down from your orgasm before them to your mouth. You opened up and he stuck them inside, feeling his cock strain against his jeans as your lips wrapped around them, licking and sucking, making the most filthy sounds.

He whimpered while he watched you, suddenly needing a taste for himself. And you seemed to think the same since you had removed his fingers from your mouth and were working on pulling off your jeans.

Once they were in a crumpled pile on the floor, you laid down on the bed, spreading your legs wide so Tyler could see just how wet your panties were. He got down onto his knees and slowly inched his hands towards your underwear.

“Just do it,” you commanded. “Please.” He did as you asked and pulled down on the waistband, pulling them completely off to reveal your soaking wet cunt. Tyler could feel drool pooling in his mouth as he looked down at it, desperate for a taste.

He took each of your legs and draped them over his shoulders before diving in, not even bothering to warm you up since you both seemed so desperate. He then slowly inched his face closer to your cunt, giving you opportunity to back out if you wanted to. He then slowly pressed his face into it. You let out a gasp when his nose brushed it and your fingers wound into his hair as he mouthed your clit, sucking on the spot and feeling his dick getting hard as a whimper fell from your lips. He licked and sucked on the spot, taking his time, fully intending to give you the best head of your life. A moan escaped from your throat and you both paused, Buck pulling away to grin at you.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he urged. “Just like that. You’re doing great.” He dove back in for more, wanting to taste more of you, but to also hear more of your delectable sounds. His mouth was back on your clit in a flash, licking and sucking some more, trying to not smile to himself as you continued to moan. He had you right where he wanted you and he had barely even done anything yet. He couldn’t wait to see how you would react once he was actually inside you.

He moved lower, tonguing your slit, licking back and forth between the seam before going in with his lips, giving it a hard suck as his hands moved up to your thighs, spreading your legs wider to have more access to you. He then lightly grazed your cunt with his teeth and his ears perked up at your loud moan as your thighs pressed against his head as your ankles locked together at the back of his neck.

Tyler continued his movements, loving how hard you were pulling onto his hair, knowing that you were enjoying it just as much as he was. You tasted so good and he loved how quickly he was able to make you come undone. He bet you looked so hot, so beautiful as the noises came from your mouth, wondering what you looked like when you orgasmed. He bet you looked so good with your mouth wide open, sweaty all over, your labored breathing. He couldn’t wait to see it.

He shoved his tongue inside you and couldn’t help but notice how tight you were, but he wasn’t going to comment on it. He didn’t want to embarrass you and certainly didn’t feel like it mattered. He knew you hadn’t been intimate in a while and fully intended on making you feel so good, so special.

He swirled his tongue around and was convinced that you were going to pull his hair out with how hard you were yanking it, but he hardly cared. You were reacting exactly how he wanted you to. His tongue hit just the right spot and your back arched in pleasure as a scream ripped through you.

“Tyler, oh my god,” you screamed as you reached your orgasm, stars forming in your eyes, your vision going hazy. This was exactly what you had been expecting with your other partners. It was all you wanted and apparently it had been very simple since it hadn’t taken Tyler long to get you there.

He slowly removed his face from your cunt then took off his shirt then moved to his jeans, taking his time to let you come down from your orgasm. You sat up, wanting to get a glimpse of his rock hard cock and it did not disappoint. It was probably the biggest one you had ever seen and you were wondering how it was even going to fit inside you.

Once you were ready, he lowered himself down onto you, pressing his lip to yours in a slow, sloven kiss, wanting to savor the taste of you. He then pulled away to remove your shirt, tossing it behind him before peppering your chest in kisses. Once he was done, he moved his hands behind you and unclasped your bra before slowly removing the straps from your shoulders to reveal your tits.

“You’re amazing,” he breathed.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied. “And as much as I love your compliments, I really need you inside me.” You knew you sounded needy, but considering the fact that you hadn’t slept with anyone in months, you really needed this and time was ticking.

“Yes ma’am,” he pretended to tip the brim of a hat towards you then climbed off of you, pulling a condom out of his wallet and rolling it onto his cock as quickly as possible. He then lined himself up with you before slowly inserting himself inside of you, both of you moaning at the sensation. Tyler then began to thrust in and out slowly, trying to figure out what you liked.

“Faster,” you commanded. “If I don’t get there soon, I think I might explode.” Your voice was so whiny and full of need that Tyler was going to get you there as soon as possible, wondering how long you had been feeling that way and why you hadn’t told him sooner.

His thrusts got so hard and fast that now he was fully pounding into you, trying his best to fit all of himself inside you and you seemed to enjoy it. Your moans got much more enthusiastic and he could see that you really weren’t lying. You always looked fucked out and he had barely even done anything to you.

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Look at you taking me so well. Doing so good darlin’.” He continued to pump in and out at his rapid rate and could see your back arching, a scream falling from your lips. Tyler was convinced that this was the hottest you’d ever looked (even though he had only met you that night) with your hair all a mess and the sweat dripping down your body. You were an absolute dream and this was definitely what he was going to think about every night before going to bed.

He reached his own orgasm not long after then collapsed onto the bed next to you. Your chests were rising and falling because of your heavy breaths. Tyler then rolled off the bed and gathered the clothes from the floor, handing you yours which you put on. You really thought he would have wanted to go for another round. You were definitely down. Maybe he was just a one and done kind of guy.

You watched him button up his shirt as you sat there with yours in your hands, trying to prolong your time with him. You didn’t want to leave just yet. He sent you a wink and finished up his shirt before coming over to you. He dropped to his knees in front of you and took your shirt before putting it over your head and helping you put your arms through the sleeves.

“How about we go to my place?” He asked and you nodded enthusiastically. You got your jeans on and Tyler helped you to your feet, the both of you making a beeline to the stairs. You couldn’t believe that you thought he was going to ditch you. He had clearly shown you that he wasn’t like the others and he was fully intending on showing you just how much he wanted you once you got to his place. He was planning on having you between the sheets until the early morning, fucking you until you couldn’t walk. He was going to make you feel like an absolute queen.

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x fem!reader #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens x you #tyler owens smut #tyler owens fluff #twisters

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azullumi · 1 year ago

Text

“grocery shopping” ; genshin men

summary — a certain notion appears inside your mind, like a lightbulb on top of your head as if you were having an eureka moment when in fact, you weren’t. it was just a silly idea in which you are curious to know the answer to. alternatively, just your average grocery shopping with him with a little twist and that being placing every item that you see into the cart.

includes — various genshin men (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship, a sprinkle of domestic, set in a modern setting ; headcanons

words — 1215

note — honestly this is just me and my mom whenever we go out for groceries (i always put everything that i see in the cart) ; this is the first time i’ve written after so long, aside from those stupid essays i have to do for school

;; Will let you be, however, he will put some of the items back

He doesn’t show an ounce of care and will just let you have your fun, for now. Because yeah, sure, you can add that box of mugs that are identical to the ones you have at home, dear, but that doesn’t mean you’ll see it getting packed into the grocery bags; Oh, that ladle set sure does look nice (you won’t see it in your place ever). He’ll let you indulge in your pleasures and won’t deny you of it, however, so much can only one do in this economy and some of the things that you are putting in is exceeding that. He’ll put some of the things back whenever you are not looking, trying not to get noticed. Perhaps you won’t notice it at first when a few things are missing and somehow, the cart doesn’t seem to get full no matter how many you are adding to it. He’ll act so innocent and naive when you ask him about it, however, smiling at you softly and asking you what you are talking about. He’ll only tell you of it once you’re on your way back with the bags, expressing an apology that he has to remove some of the things in the cart that you added and you two will get it again next time.

Thoma, Baizhu, Tighnari, Venti

;; Will get another cart

Oh no, dear, the cart is full already? You just have to wait there and he’ll get another one for you, so for the meantime, you can scope and look out for other items that you want to get. One word, supportive. Or maybe he just loves to spoil you a lot. Either way, he clearly lets you do whatever you want; he’s a little bit of an enabler, perhaps. The weight of the groceries is nothing compared to the affection he has for you. You don’t even have to look at the price either—he advises you not to do so because that’s not really a concern (for him, atleast). Really, he loves you a lot to the point that he is willing to just watch you as he pushes the quite heavy cart and carries a basket like how you would carry a bag with just your arm (need yourself a man who’ll willingly push the cart for you and follow you around). He doesn’t mind it, it’s only one of the many things that he’ll do for you. There’s just one thing, however. You don’t know what you’re going to do with the pile of things you got so before paying it on the counter, you’ll have to return many of them.

Ayato, Pantalone, Diluc, Childe

;; Will be silent and confused but will let you be

At first, it starts off just like how it usually would: you grab some of the things that you need and want then place it in the cart as you two walk around the store and he simply lets you do as you want, just like your normal day of grocery shopping with him. Until several items were placed into the cart later and he had to question himself, why? Are those needed? What would you need a new blender for when there is a completely functional and working one at your home? He’s visibly confused but he will simply let you be because how could he stop you when you’re clearly enjoying whatever you are doing and he adores watching you in such light—you, simply, just walking and being with him has him falling head over heels for you. In lieu of that, it’s probably the reason why he’ll let you get away with doing some things including whatever you are doing (but that doesn’t mean he won’t be having any questions). Oh, how long the receipt will be. He will have to stop you as soon as the cart gets full and there is no more room for other important items, however. I mean, come on, there are more knives and cups there than there are for eggs and milk together.

Diluc, Zhongli, Xiao, Alhaitham

;; Will question every item you’ll put in

Is that really necessary? What’s that? Do you want it? He’s quite verbal on what is happening, becoming (your) voice of reason on this whimsical notion. His reaction is a mix of everything, he’ll let you add whatever you want but at the same time, he’ll place some of it back and would’ve stopped you from adding a few—perhaps he’ll also express his confusion, but never will there be annoyance: “Where are you going to use that for?” He’ll act more like a mother asking their child what in the world are they adding into the cart, just without the scolding part and telling you how it is expensive and you’re not the one paying for everything. He doesn’t mind you placing many things as long as they are essential and of necessity. He’ll let in a few of your wants here and there but not so much that it will consume half of the space of the cart. He’s more on the rational side of things, keeping you grounded to reality and that reality being the costs, the amount of things you’ll have to carry on the way back, and where you will even place some of those products that you completely don’t need.

Wanderer/Scaramouche, Cyno, Xiao, Kaveh

;; Will join you in adding those random things

All became a game of fun with him just as quick as you placed that one vase in the cart. Well, everything feels like a game with him even if it’s as simple as who’ll finish their food first. It’s silly, if you are going to be honest. You two were acting like children whose both of their parents lost sight of them at the store and are now running around the place, each with their own cart of their own (random) items. The competition? Who fills their cart first is the winner (with no duplicate items). Whenever you two would have an accidental encounter, you would check each other’s cart and see who has more then proceed to tease one another of who is the winner. However, the reality of the situation dawns over you two when you remember that you have to bring these things to the counter and pay for it—and the fact that you have to return, if not all, most of the items back to their proper places. By then, you two would have to start over the grocery shopping adventure again but this time, only with what is completely necessary in your cart. You’ll still have your own fun with him in this busy place, nonetheless.

Itto, Childe, Heizhou

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poppadom0912 · 3 months ago

Text

Jay’s Masterplan

Summary: 5 times Jay's plans failed and 1 time it kind of worked out.

A/N: @desimarie12 who asked for a part two of Sylvie’s Masterplan. But, this can also be read as a standalone. I changed and expanded on your idea a lot. I got a little carried away and wrote 3.7k words

I’ve got a few more asks in my inbox left to finish for this 1k celebration so they’ll be coming out very slowly by the end of this week. I’m considering this to be part of it. I hope you enjoy!!

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

It had been two days since your birthday, two days since Sylvie had been incredibly sneaky and achieved one of her biggest accomplishments in life: getting you and jay to finally go on a date.

Said date was today and the past two days had been filled with nothing but anticipation and excitement and endless teasing and cheesy smiles from your sister who seemed as happy as you.

Jay claimed that he had everything under control. He was going to take you out and he would be in charge of everything. You had nothing to worry about – he insisted.

Your first date was going to be perfect.

Sylvie came over to help you get ready. She sat cross legged on your bed as you skimmed your closet and the possible dresses to wear, giving her input when needed. She helped do your hair when time was running out and you were close to running the risk of being late.

Then the doorbell rang and before you could worry any further, she was pushing you out the door, quelling all your worries with the promise that she would clean up the mess that was your bedroom before she went back home.

You didn’t miss the sly smirk on her face when you opened the door, and Jay couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Be good and have fun kids! Make sure you use protection!” Sylvie smiled, waving you off like a mother.

You could hear her cackles after you let out a weird, almost unattractive noise, embarrassed at her words. “Sylvie!”

“I’m so sorry about her, she’s…”

“She’s being Sylvie.”

Jay was very chivalrous, opening the car door for you before he got in himself. The entire car ride had been filled with comfortable chatter and your pre-date jitters had started to die down.

His story was suddenly cut off by a traffic jam. Cars were beeping and drivers were shouting out each other. You had to roll your window to try understand what was happening.

You heard the words 9-1-1 and ambulance being shouted by numerous voices and both of you were already getting out, sharing a quick glance, exchanging no words.

You followed Jay towards the crushed cars, the smoke piling up was now a cause for concern.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" Jay asked a woman who was stumbling out her car. She held her bloodied head and tripped over her feet disorientated.

"Come with me please. I'm a nurse, I can check you out." You said, moving towards the woman, offering an arm for her to hold onto which she did without question.

Leading her towards the pavement, you looked back at Jay whose eyes hadn't left you, making sure you were safe and had everything under control.

Smiling, you nodded slightly, giving him all the assurance he needed to leave you and do his own thing.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

So the first date was a bit of a flop.

You ended up going to the hospital with one of the victims involved in the crash and at the end of the night, it had gotten too late to continue with Jay's original plans.

All that was possible was a small takeout at you apartment. In your opinion, this had been one of your most memorable first dates ever.

But, Jay wasn't satisfied. He was committed to taking you out on a proper date, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

It was now two weeks later, both your afternoons lining up together perfectly.

Due to a small timing problem, you would be meeting Jay at the park. He had to sort something out at work really quickly but that gave you enough time to set everything up to your exact preferences.

You knew Jay would have wanted more of a say in the set up but you wanted to contribute something. You brought a cute picnic blanket and a few small foods to nibble on.

Bored, you started picking on the mini charcuterie board you made, eating the cracker as you surveyed the park.

It was nice and peaceful. All the kids were in school, most people at work and only a few people were in the park, walking their dogs or going for a quick midday run.

All of a sudden, you were brought out your reverie by a light tapping on your shoulder. Looking over, you saw a small chubby hand retreating from your shoulder.

Following it, you found yourself looking at a child who couldn't be any older than two.

"Hello." You smiled softly at the little girl, her hair in two small pigtails that held just enough hair to tie up, the tiniest purple trainers and the cutest dungarees. "Honey are you lost?"

She shook her head, her finger pointing at the cracker in your hand. "I have cracker please?"

You swooned, internally aweing and cooing at her voice. Despite being a labour and delivery nurse, you could never get over your baby fever.

"Oh! You want a cracker?" You replied, already picking up a cracker to give to her which she took with the cheekiest smile on her face, her dimples almost blinding you.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Her pronunciation was slightly off but that only made her cuter.

Without any further prompting, she sat opposite you, her legs crossed as she started to eat.

You were so confused and caught up in this little girl that you hadn't seen Jay entering the park. You unfortunately missed the moment his face lit up the second he noticed you.

Walking towards you, his smile slowly turned into a confused frown as he caught sight of the toddler sitting with you.

"Sylvie never mentioned you were a mum."

You jumped, head whipping up to look at him in alarm. "Jay! Hey!"

You stood up, wrapping him in a quick hug and pressing a light kiss on his cheek before pulling away to look down at the toddler who was now on her second cracker.

"Yeah I have no idea where she came from but she asked very politely for some crackers." You said, your smile soft as watched her take a grape.

"No parents in sight?" Jay asked. Both of your eyes were stuck on her as if hypnotised.

"Literally no one is here but us Jay." You rolled your eyes, pointing out the obvious. "She literally appeared out of thin air."

"Cool." Jay hummed, nodding as if it was completely normal to have a random child come up to you and start eating your food.

You sighed wistfully, sitting back down in your spot, the little girl looking up as you did so.

"Is it yummy?" You asked, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the way her head titled to the side.

"Yes, yummy!" She nodded eagerly. "Thank you!"

"Your welcome darling." Gosh you were so gone for her and Jay took notice of how captivated you were of her.

"Gosh I just want to eat her." You said in an almost aggressive manner.

Jay totally didn't feel anything watching how you interacted with her. His heart definitely wasn't going all soft and gooey, his mind definitely wasn't wandering.

For a split second, Jay could envision a future with you.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

Third times a charm, at least that's what they say.

The two previous attempts of a first date hadn't been very successful. Your last date almost was, you didn't mind the company of the toddler but her parents needed to be found, a task that took over two hours.

Todays date was fool proof. Nothing, and Jay guaranteed it this time, nothing was going to go wrong.

On both of your days off, you both decided on lunch again. This time, unlike the past two, you were successfully able to sit and eat an entire meal without anything going awry.

Just like Jay said, nothing had gone wrong and it was almost the perfect first date.

The only thing left to make this perfect would be-

Gunshots.

Wait, that wasn't right. Gunshots were the opposite of perfection, they would ruin everything.

Gunshots?

Screams echoed in the distance and instantly, Jay was running, his hand tightening its grip around yours.

You mentally cursed yourself for choosing to wear heels.

Jay was shouting some words down his radio that he conveniently carried on him at all times. You could recognise him calling his team for backup.

Turning the corner, you were almost away from the direction of the shooting when all of a sudden, something whizzed past you and Jay groaned.

"Oh my God!" You reacted on instinct.

With the hand still holding his, you pulled him towards you and immediately inspected and gingerly held his bleeding bicep.

"Okay good, you'll be fine, it's just a graze." You sighed in relief as you took off your cardigan, wrapping it around the wound, ignoring Jay asking for you not to ruin such a nice pattern.

"I'll be fine, I can wait for an ambo-"

Jay stopped himself when you looked up at him deadpanned, mouth closing as he petulantly let you tighten up your knot.

"I'm the professional here Jay Halstead so you listen to me." You didn't break eye contact as you tightened it even more to the point that he let out a miniscule wince. "Just wait till I tell your brother about this."

"Wait, Y/N, you don't have to tell Will. Don't tell him please."

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

Fourth time around, you were slowly starting to lose hope at ever having a successful first date with the man.

At this rate, you were becoming kinda desperate to the point where you were contemplating getting Sylvie involved and having her plan everything since she was clearly much better than both you and Jay combined.

You left the house with your expectations very low and you were right to have done so because not even ten minutes after leaving your house, you suddenly found yourself bagless.

The man had been so quick with it that you had no time to even react.

You weren't even surprised, just disappointed that you hadn't been holding your bag tighter. You should've known better.

Damn. Your phone was in your bag too.

Sighing, you turned around. Your destination changed now. You needed to go to the 21st precinct now.

One thing was on your side today since the walk was under ten minutes and you had worn the appropriate footwear this time too.

Entering the precinct, you smiled and waved at Trudy. You had been well acquainted with the older woman through Sylvie and Mouch.

"Hey Trudy, do you by any chance know if Jay's already left?" You asked nervously, now realising that this all could've been a waste of time if he already left to go to your date.

Trudy studied you closely, eyes squinted as she tried to figure out what was happening. "You two still haven't gone on a date yet? You want me to have a word with him Brett?"

You chuckled, appreciating her protective nature. "No it's okay but I think I was just robbed."

Trudy wasn't laughing with you. Her face dropped, eyes wide at your confession.

"Then why you standing around here for?" She huffed incredulously as she rounded her desk and started pulling you towards the Intelligence gates.

"Come on, we're going to confront lover boy."

She gave you no time to answer back as you were already in the bullpen, everyone staring at you with lots of confusion.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Jay asked, eyes going to the clock when a wave of fear crashed over him. "There's still twenty minutes till our reservation-"

"Brett 2.0 has been robbed." Trudy said, not wanting to waste any more time. "What a boyfriend you are huh?"

Both of you ignored that last part, everyone's eyes widening at the statement.

"Shit- are you hurt?" Jay asked, chucking his file aside and striding towards you, taking you in his arm and inspecting your body for any visible injuries.

"I'm completely fine, untouched." You assured him, taking hold of his hands to stop his unnecessary worrying. "It's just my bag - phone, wallet, keys, cards all that stuff."

"We'll find it." Jay stated, no hesitation or doubt in his words. "I'll track your phone and hopefully we'll find this man."

"We'll need another rain check." You said sadly, trying not to show too much disappointment.

"It's okay, don't worry about that." Jay shook his head.

"As long as your okay and safe - that's all that matters."

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

The night had started off without a hitch and you were trying not to think about it too much.

This had all been very last minute. Jay had randomly called you, inviting you out to the very fancy restaurant that neither of your salaries could afford.

Apparently, he helped someone out at work and they owned the restaurant. So as a favour, they wanted to let him and a friend have a free dinner.

Jay wasn't going to pass on this opportunity, especially if he could take you on a date.

You were both dressed up the most fancily either of you had been for any of your failed attempts of dates. It was safe to say that Jay was even more attractive, if that was even possible, when he put a little extra effort in.

All your food had been ordered and your conversation had been flowing smoothly from one topic to the next. You had to cross all your fingers and toes to not jinx yourself.

Before the food could come, you quickly excused yourself to the restroom. You needed to go really quick and maybe touch up your face a little bit too.

The women's side was empty and so you wasted no time, quickly doing your business, washing your hands and fixing yourself in the very bougie mirror.

Reapplying your lip gloss and fixing a few stray hairs, you took a quick picture of yourself in the mirror, sending it to Sylvie before leaving.

As you went to pull the door handle, you recoiled, hissing and shaking your hand from the burning heat.

Hesitantly, you slowly moved your finger, wanting to touch it again really quickly to double check you weren't hallucinating.

Hissing again, your fears were confirmed. There was a fire.

Just great. This was perfect. Exactly what you wanted.

You had nothing on you to protect yourself. The shawl you brought had been taken by the hostess, the only sort of extra material you had on your person were the glasses cloth for your reading glasses.

But it wasn't nearly big enough to cover your face. It was good enough though to pull the door handle without inflicting too much damage on your hand.

Blowing out a puff of air, you psyched yourself up, bouncing a little in your heels. You had no idea how bad the fire was but either way, you had to be prepared to move.

Just as you pulled the door open, your phone started ringing. But you were already on the move now and answering the phone wasn't a part of the mini plan you just formulated.

So, like the smart individual you were, you ignored your buzzing phone and tried to make your way out of the smoke.

It was quite thick considering the time frame. You didn't think you were gone for too long but you were struggling to see through the smoke, let alone make your way through it.

Trying to keep ahold of your breath, you squinted to try make out the corridor and the walls. The restaurant was the type of fancy that all the walls were identical and in this disorientated state, it was even harder to distinguish where you were going.

You were starting to struggle with your breath, you'd have to inhale soon so you had to get out of here fast.

Tripping over your feet, you caught yourself on the wall, coincidentally another metal handle that was hot. Without thinking, you pulled your hand away and you fell to your knees.

You weren't able to overthink everything like you normally would.

Wincing, you quickly pulled yourself up and this time, you couldn't avoid breathing and inhaling the smoke. Your coughing fit was expected but that didn't make it any less pleasant.

Ignoring the tingling in your knees, you dragged yourself to stand straight, cloth back over your mouth and moving again towards any sort of exit.

"Call out!"

You paused. Did you hear that right?

"Call out!"

No, you were actually hearing it. If you had to guess, that sounded like the man your sister was deeply in love in. If it wasn't Matt that was shouting then you were truly losing it.

Deciding to risk it, you called out. "Matt?!"

There was a pause before you heard a commotion. "Y/N! Call out again!"

Stifling your coughs, you listened, calling out again as you moved towards the sound of his voice.

If it wasn't for the adrenaline flooding your veins, you would've deflated in relief at the familiar sight of the firefighter, a few men behind him who you couldn't recognise as the smoke was getting thicker.

Without any further word, Matt pulled you towards him and started escorting you away, shouting a few words at his men. "Y/N was there anyone else back there with you?"

You shook your head, coughing again. "No, it's only me."

It took a moment but as soon as you were outside, relief could've drowned you.

Despite all the beautiful fresh air, it welcomed you with an even more wonderful coughing fit.

In a blurry of motions, you found yourself being gently moved to sit down on a stretcher.

"Y/N, oh my gosh, thank goodness." You recognised Sylvie instantly without even looking. You could hear the tears wanting to escape in the thickness in her voice. "We were so scared."

Sylvie was multitasking, talking to you as she started fretting over you, checking for any visible injuries before starting to treat you for smoke inhalation.

"My hand." You rasped out when you realised she hadn't taken note of your trembling hands just yet.

"Shhh, don't talk." Sylvie gently caressed your arm before disappearing back into what you think is her ambulance.

You started blinking to get rid of the blurriness and the first thing you saw when you finally gained your somewhat clear vision was a harried looking Jay.

"Oh, hey."

"Hey you." Jay replied, a small smile that fell when he saw the breathing mask being put over your face and Sylvie beginning to bandage your hands. "Don't ever scare me like that, ever again you hear me?"

Just as you were going to reply, Jay shook his head, moving his hand back so that he wouldn't touch you. "Please, don't say anything."

The look on his face made you wish you still couldn't see properly. Looking into the smoke was less painful than looking at his face drowning in hurt.

"And don't you dare say sorry either or else this fire will be the least of your problems."

You sighed in relief, from both this newfound oxygen and from being reunited with Jay.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

Luckily for you, your injuries weren't too bad, just some smoke inhalation and third degree burns but you did have the stay overnight for observation.

The adrenaline was slowly starting to die down now that you were in the hospital. The room was silent and you could finally start to relax.

Before your thoughts could spiral, Jay re-entered the room, weirdly with a tray in hand.

"Don't talk, I asked Will and he advised you try not talk too much but if you must, then whisper please - for my sake."

You could only nod, your eyes trained on him as he made his way across the room towards you, placing the tray on the folding table.

As if knowing what you were going to ask him, a smile broke out on his face as he moved the little table towards you.

"Well, our date didn't go to plan, again, so I thought we'd do it here." He revealed, as he uncovered the tray of what you now knew was food from the hospital cafeteria.

"Now I know this wasn't the food we were going to have tonight but, you eat it everyday so there must be something to it." He shrugged, very smooth as he opened the individual packages.

"All the main dishes were gone but this can't be too bad."

Looking back at you, Jay was caught off guard at how you were staring at him. Despite everything that happened tonight, there was this softness and longing in your eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

The corner of your eyes were crinkling as they squinted. Even under the oxygen mask, it was so obvious that you were smiling, as bright as you did on your first failed date.

Jay wanted to make you smile that like for however long you allowed him to.

"Thank you." You whispered to him, blowing him a kiss from under the mask.

Jutting your head towards him, he didn't need any words to know what you were asking of him.

Taking off the oxygen mask and putting on the nasal canula, Jay made sure he was doing everything right, Will's words replaying in the back of his mind.

His touch was feather light, fingers much more colder than your way too warm cheeks.

"Okay so, sandwich first?" He asked, surveying the options again, waiting for your nod or shake of your head.

When you nodded, he opened the package and held it out to you so you could take a bite. Your hands were both bandaged making you incapable of doing anything yourself.

You smiled at him with your mouthful, your cheeks puffing out to express your gratitude for him.

As you chewed, he opened his own and also started to eat his dinner, alternating between feeding you and himself in comfortable silence.

This definitely wasn't what Jay had planned for your first date but it was definitely a memorable one and he wouldn't have you either way: happy and safe, well fed and content.

If this just the first date, then Jay couldn't wait for a lifetime full of them.

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #one chicago fic #jay halstead x reader #onechicago #chicago med #chicago pd #jay halstead #chicago fire #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead oneshot #jay halstead fanfiction

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

Text

When We Begin Again

Warnings:this fic will include dark content such as blood and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find the man of the dreams, but your life slowly distorts into a nightmare.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Note: And so we come to the end of Halloweek 2024. Thanks for those who read.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me❤️

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You hear the murmur from across the office but don’t look up. You're too enraptured by the cells of the spreadsheet, trying to figure out what won’t balance. There’s something missing. Something obvious and you just can’t see it.

Your eyes narrow, nearly turning inward to your nose, and your name yanks you out of your Excel-induced trance. You sit up sharply, nearly sending yourself and your rolling chair to the ground. You grasp the arm rests and snap the seat straight on the axle.

“My, my, looks like someone special’s thinking of you,” Louise plunks down the crystal vase of flowers on your desk, nearly demolishing your mouse at the same time. “Roses. Red? Three dozen, looks like.”

The office clears and you glance around slowly as the fog dissipates. You have an audience. You’re not used to being the center of attention. Not until recently.

You know who the flowers are from but it’s still a surprise. A pleasant one, yet a bit awkward. You take the card from the long plastic stem and read the message inside. It’s signed S. Rogers.

“So, you’ve got a new man?” Louise prompts, still hovering by your desk.

“Ooh, do tell,” Sella rolls over in her chair.

“Please, we’re just getting to know each other,” you put the card in your pocket.

“Just getting to know each other,” Sella guffaws as several other women turn to eavesdrop. “Seems like he wants to know a lot about you.”

“Really. We only had one date.”

“One date?” Louise exclaims. “Well, you must’ve put out if he’s sending roses.”

“Lou,” Sella warns.

Louise gives a naughty look, “pardon. I’ll file the HR report myself.” She cackles and a few others join in. You’re burning hot in embarrassment.

“It’s new. I don’t want to get my hopes up,” you stand and grab the vase. “These are too big and pretty for my desk. I’ll put them in the break room.”

“Is he handsome?” Louise goads.

“Oh, I hope he is,” Sella chirps. “To be young and fun again, ah.”

You carry the vase away, an odd clink against the glass with your steps. You keep your head down, overly aware of the eyes watching you. You enter the shared kitchen and put the flowers on one of the empty tables. Something dangles against the back of your hand.

You turn your palm to catch the small locket before it can slide free. You don’t know how you didn’t notice before. A rose is engraved into the gold and the chain is a length of delicate links. You can tell it’s genuine gold. Oh my.

You quickly wrap it up and slip it into your pocket with the card. You hurry back to your desk and sit. You try to focus on the spreadsheet but your vision is blurry with self-consciousness. A soft buzz draws you from your deconstruction.

You swipe up your phone. It’s Steve. You can’t leave him hanging. Not after all that.

You get up, keeping your cell up your sleeve as you march into the hall and to the restroom. You lock yourself in and answer.

“Hello?” Your voice is wispy.

“Hey, honey, did you get it?” Steve asks.

Honey? He’s too good to be true. One date and it’s like it’s been one year.

“The flowers, yeah.”

“What about the necklace?” He asks.

“Oh, yes, that too. Um, all the other ladies at the office love the roses.”

“But what about you?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty,” you assure him.

“Are you wearing the necklace?” He asks.

“I hadn’t had a chance--”

“Put it on,” he says abruptly then clears his throat. “I mean, you should wear it. Send me a picture.”

“Right, yeah. Totally. Sorry. I just started work and... oh Steve what a lovely surprise that was,” you chime. “I’m kinda in shock. It’s so sweet of you.”

“You’re easy to be sweet to,” he purrs. “Did you have a good night?”

“I did. Dinner was great.”

“And... after?”

Your cheeks are blazing. Your lips press together as you think of the kiss. So soft and tender.

“I liked it,” you babble.

He chuckles, “me too. So, we’ll have to set a date for the second.”

“Of course.” You agree as you cradle your hot cheek.

“I don’t want to keep you from your work, as much as I do want to,” he says. “Oh, don’t forget the necklace.”

“Yeah, I’ll put it on now,” you promise. “I should go.”

“Alright,” he says reluctantly. “See ya, honey.”

You hang up and put the phone on the edge of the sink. You fish the necklace out of your pocket and untangle the chain. You admire the little rose before you stretch it around your neck and clasp it into place. It hangs perfectly around your throat, right at the hollow of your collar bone.

You marvel at it, stroking the edges, and feel a tingle on your chest. It’s beautiful.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” A lilted voice drifts through your ears.

You flinch, startled. You look around the empty bathroom. You frown. Who was that?

You check your phone. It’s locked. Then you go to each stall and peer inside. No one.

It... must’ve been in your head. Yet it was so clear. Like someone was speaking right next to you. Even as if the voice were inside your mind. Well, that’s it, isn’t it? You’re imagining things.

You turn back to the mirror and raise your phone as you open up the camera. You should send that picture before you forget. You snap the shot and check it.

Oh. Doubt needles at you once more. Just like yesterday before your date. That disbelief you can’t shake. Steve is too good for you. You’re the mousy woman who can’t help but trip over her own toes and rambles about old BBC period pieces. He’s tall and blond and handsome.

Yet he likes you. He has to. He would give you such pretty things if he didn’t.

🥀

“One month already,” Steve sweeps in with a glass in each hand.

“Oh gosh, that’s not--”

“Champagne,” he declares.

“Really?” You squeal.

“Nothing’s too special for you, honey,” he nears and hands you a glass. You take it and keep it over the edge of the couch, afraid to spill even a drop on his pristine white cushions. “I just love to spoil you.”

“You do,” you agree. “It makes me feel a little... lacking. I wish I could give you more.”

“You’re more than enough,” he assures you as he sits down next to you. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you echo and clink his glass.

You tip the glass to your lips and a weight shifts in the crystal. You hum in surprise and trickle a drop over the corner of your mouth. You dap it away as you examine the golden champagne. Tiny bubbles flow up from around the band sunk to the bottom. You gasp.

“Steve,” you nearly choke on the dregs. “What--”

He slides off the couch and sets his glass on the table. You shake your head. He’s not...

“Honey,” he takes your other hand as he kneels. You’re overly aware of the moisture left on your fingers. Of course, you’re that ungraceful. “I know it’s early but I don’t want to wait. I just feel... this is everything. I want you forever.”

“Huh?” The noise makes you cringe. You sound so dumb.

“Please, will you make me the luckiest man in the world--”

“You can’t...” you gulp.

“Marry me. Please.”

You stare at him. Stunned. Your hand shakes. You reach to put the glass down and fan yourself. It can’t be real. So soon?

“I’ll beg,” he squeezes your hand. “Honey, please.”

“Steve,” you eke again. “I... I’m just so... surprised.”

“I love you,” he says. “I love you so much, you’re all I think about.”

“I...” you look at the glass and the ring at the bottom. “Yes, Steve. Oh my god. Yes.”

He smiles triumphantly and grabs the champagne. He drains it and reveals the ring between his teeth. He takes it and dries it on his shirt. You lift your hand, trembling and let him slide it on.

“Oh, yes, a lovely ring, indeed. His mother’s, you know? Cushion cut and look at the trim...” You recoil and scratch your ears. It’s that voice again.

It can’t be Steve. His lips haven’t moved and it isn’t a male voice. It’s a woman. Her tone is rich and sultry and she has an accent. It doesn’t sound like anyone you know.

“Honey?” Steve blinks at you with concern.

“I... I’m sorry, I just... can I use the bathroom?”

“Uh, yeah,” he looks disappointed. “Sure.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to ruin the moment, I just have a tickle,” you pat his hand gently and let him go.

You stand and hurry away.

“He asked me on London Bridge. At midnight. Wonderful. Back home, lovely weather,” the woman speaks again, booming in your brain.

You swallow a yelp before you hide behind the bathroom door. You shake your head and cup your ears, but that only makes her louder.

“Then we went to Paris. Oh, it was splendid.” She sighs dreamily.

You look in the mirror. You appear maddened as your eyes are round and your mouth is twisted in dismay. You lean in as you notice the glint in your iris. There are flecks you’ve never seen there before. A subtle pigmentation. You blink. Is there something in your eyes?

It’s unmoving. That slender grey speck. You bat your lashes again. They’re longer too.

You grip the sink as you lean into the mirror.

“He always liked it when I wore red lipstick.” She preens in your ears and you whine. You push yourself back and look down at your hands. You step back and raise them to examine your fingers. They look more tapered than before. Not so stubby and thick.

You shake them out and take a breath. There’s something wrong. Something strange. With you.

Yet, what can you do about it now? You can’t run out on Steve after such a nice night. And a proposal. You’ll wait until the morning and you’ll call the doctor.

You shrink and lean against the wall. It’s just your luck. You meet the man of your dreams, get engaged, and now your mind is fraying. You’re terrified.

“Please,” you whisper, “be quiet.”

You wait. There’s no answer. You must sound as deranged as you feel. You’re talking to yourself. There’s no one else there.

“Honey,” Steve taps on the door gently, startling you, “everything okay?”

“Um, yeah,” you croak out. “Yes, I’m good.” You unlock the door and make yourself smile. “I was just admiring the ring.”

“Nice, huh?” He takes your hand. “It was my mother’s. If you need it fitted, we can go tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You wonder. “Mm, well, I have to see the doctor.”

“Oh,” his brows draw together, “maybe after then.”

🥀

“I can’t offer you answers today,” Dr. Lichten drones. “I can refer you to someone who can. It could be a temporary episode. Or something more... chronic. The best place to start is with someone who can determine which.”

You nod solemnly. His expression remained unmoved as you explained the voice in your head, almost as if he didn’t believe you. You didn’t bother to mention the changes you could see. You fear doing so might land you in a room with soft walls.

You take the referral form and leave. Your phone is buzzing. It’s Steve. You love how attentive he can be but at the same time, you feel suffocated. You just need space to figure out what’s going on.

“Quite simple, dear. You’re not me.” The voice taunts. You stop short in the hallway, nearly bowling over a nurse. You apologise and keep going.

You continue out of the clinic and idle in your car as you call the psychiatric office. You have an appointment set. You’ll be okay until then.

“He could never be happy with someone like you. Look at you, honey. You are a mess.”

“Shut up,” you growl as you shift into drive.

The voice is saying all the things you’ve said to yourself before but this time, it’s not the same murmuring doubt. It’s bold and brazen and cruel. And that accent.

Your eyes flick to the ring shining on your finger. You nearly forgot it that morning until Steve reminded you. It’s so beautiful.

“And you’re not,” the voice mocks.

You sigh and close your eyes. You’re not doing this. You’re not arguing with whatever this is.

You drive back to your own place. You’ll sleep and hope it goes away. You haven’t been doing much of that since Steve came around. He fills your evenings and the mornings comes too quick. Can you really keep up with him?

“You cannot,” she snickers and you smack your ear as you push through your apartment door. You groan and try to rub away the stinging pain.

You lay down but don’t get much sleep. Even as the voice recedes into silence, you’re unsettled as you wait for it to pipe up at any moment. When you surrender to your consciousness, you run a bath and ease into it.

You close your eyes once more and linger in the steaming water. As it cools, you open your eyes. You look down at yourself. Surely it must be the water distorting your body. Where did that freckle come from? Is your skin a different shade?

Strange things. You wish they’d stop.

Steve calls as you wrap yourself in your robe, as if he knows. You answer.

“Hey, whatcha up to?” He asks.

“Nothing. Just... chilling out.”

“You back at your place? I can swing by with lunch,” he offers.

“Oh, Steve...”

“I might already be here...” he chuckles.

That’s his way. He doesn’t leave room for no but it’s never a bad thing. You sigh.

“Alright, come on up.”

🥀

“We can do some evaluations for schizophrenia but you have no genetic markers for it. No family history. Dissociative Personality might be something too,” Dr. Percy explains, “even a degree of body dysmorphia. Unfortunately, your systems are inconsistent with anything in the DSM-5.”

You nod.

“So that means?”

“We have work to do,” she says. “But we can figure this out. Patience.”

“Patience,” you frown. You don’t know how much longer you can handle this.

“I’m patient,” the voice sneers and you wince.

Percy inclines her head curiously, “you hear it now?”

You give a quiet, “yes.”

“And?”

You squeeze your eyes shut as your head rattles, “she’s laughing!”

You wrap your arms around your head and fold over. Percy rushes over. She puts her hand on your shoulder. The voice goes silent. You whimper.

“What is it?” She asks.

“Nothing,” you utter. “It’s gone.”

She clicks her tongue. “You need sleep. I can prescribe sedatives. I want you to be careful, alright? You only need one at night. Just so you can rest.”

“Thank you,” you sniffle as you sit up. “I just want to be better.”

“I know. We will find stability,” she stands and takes her pad from her desk. “Come back on Friday.”

“Okay,” you rise grimly.

Outside the office, you sit in your car and cry. You feel yourself splintering apart. The seams are unraveling in your mind, the voice getting louder and louder as yours fades away.

“Look at us,” she trills. “Dear, please, have a look. You can be so foolish. Come, the mirror.”

You lift your head and grab onto the rear view. You tilt it down and grimace. Red lipstick. You don’t even own a stick, you didn’t put that on... huh?

“Just a bit of touch up in the ladies’,” she drawls. “Better, don’t you think?”

“Why-- what are you? Why are you doing this?”

“Those are my favourite pearls,” she ignores your desperate plea. You touch the earrings Steve gave you. “They made it through the Blitz, you know?”

“No, you’re not real. Not. Real!” You shriek and beat your temples, “get out. Get out! GET OUT!”

Your nails scratch your scalp and you recoil. Oh, heavens. Your nails. Oval, pedicured, pretty. No, those aren’t yours. You turn your arms over. Another freckle that doesn’t belong.

You lean back again and look in the mirror. Your eyes are a shade of blue you don’t recognise. Your face is longer too, cheekbones more defined. That’s not you. You’re hallucinating.

“You’re right, it isn’t you,” she chimes and laughs again.

You bend over the steering wheel and scream. You need it to stop! Stop! Stop!

🥀

You take another pill. The third one that day. She’s still there. You’re barely.

You should be happier than ever. You’re engaged. Your wedding is almost there. You’re miserable. You want it to end.

“Honey,” Steve calls through the door.

“I said leave me alone,” you snivel and pull the blanket over you. “Please, leave me alone.”

“Are you okay? You’ve been in there all day.”

“I just want to be left alone!” You snarl.

“You want to be left alone, dear, you can go,” the voice sneers. “Go on, then.”

“No,” you mutter.

“I’m not leaving so...” she insists.

“No, no, you won’t win!” You holler.

“Honey?” Steve turns the handle and you keep the blanket around you.

“Go.” You tell both of them.

“Please, don’t do this. I know there’s a lot going on but we can face it together.”

“No, Steve, we can’t... I... I’m not good enough for you. I’m... I’m... I’m going crazy,” you whine.

“Crazy? Honey, no. You’re fine. The doctor said--”

“I lied. She doesn’t know what’s wrong,” you groan. “So leave me alone. I deserve to be alone.”

“Dear, you can end this. You just have to go.” The voice chirps.

“No!” You snap at the lilting jeer. “No, I will not let you...”

Your head swirls as the drugs seep into your blood flow.

“Isn’t that nice, hm? The darkness?” She asks.

“Mmmm,” you grumble and go limp.

“Honey,” Steve rubs your arm through the blanket, “you tired?”

You garble. The pills smother you as the edges of your mind haze. Your body is heavy and warm. You cling to the relief. You just can’t be you for a little. You just want to sleep.

“That’s it, darling,” she goads, “close your eyes. Relax.”

You drift down into the depths, swirling slowly through ribbons of silk. They wrap around you and cover your face, drawing tight until they suffocate you. Until they silence you. You whimper as the fabric draws tight around your throat and you flail through the void.

You spin and open your eyes. A swath of light sears into your eyes. You see Steve, distant, far away. He leans in and cradles your face but you can’t feel his hand. His thumb strokes your cheek.

“Margaret?” He says breathily, “Peggy,” he brings his other hand up as your vision narrows, “I’ve been waiting.”

That voice hums as the light turns to a slit, “so have I,” she slithers and the darkness glazes over, dragging you down into the abyss.

You are bound in a shroud within yourself. You cannot speak, you cannot move. You have no mouth, no body to do so. You have nothing. You are nothing.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers #au #horror au #halloween 2024

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darkness-follows · 8 months ago

Note

Wade x f!reader oneshot request?

This idea has been stewing in my mind for a bit and I would love to see your take on it!!!

A one-shot where he's nervous about the reader inviting him over her place.

Maybe she starts making a move but he is excited/nervous but wants his "first time" with a woman since his wife's passing to be savored and slow/sensual.

The reader then asks him to show what he likes ~ touching himself while telling the reader how he likes to be touched in bed, leading to a smuty good time for the reader?

Thank you so much!!!!

WHAT A COOL IDEA THANK YOU!

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Hope this does it justice:

[Hey Wade, lets say my place? 8pm?]

Wade stares at the phone in his hands, fuck!

He checks the time again, 6.15 pm. Fuck.

Of course it's enough time to get himself ready but it's not enough time to mentally prepare for that date. That kind of date. It's their..oh he lost count already, maybe 5th or 6th date?

"Wow you look like you've seen a ghost Wade" Forrest huffs. Wade doesn't answer he just shows him his phone.

"Oh Holy shit! Oh my god...it's a sex date!" Forrest slaps his hand over his mouth and does a little excited jump. He's happier about this than Wade is. "Oh is that bad? Are you not ready?" He worries.

"I uh, I.. I don't know man, I haven't really..I mean she's great! You know like great but I didn't think of..-" He frowns deeply, it's a part of dating it's normal. People date and have some casual Sex just to..to see if they match right?

Right.

"Wade you got this, our girls can hang, we keep an eye and you go and have.. fun!" Forrest smirks.

"Really?"

"Yes really. Promise" Forrest adds.

"Okay! I gotta get ready, i gotta..I gotta shave and shower and...- RAID my entire damn closet"

And then Wade is off.

"Shave? He doesn't have any facial..- oh!" Forrest shuts himself up after that.

Wade really scrubbed himself squeaky clean, hes also wearing a Brand New pair of jeans which probably wasn't the smartest move as they seem incredibly tight in all the wrong places. But he still sits in his car in front of his dates house, he managed to go, to go really out and do it.. and at exactly 8pm he rings the doorbell. Shifting from one leg to the other, god he's sweating! That's bad! He's so nervous he's even thinking about running away right now.

When the door opens his face lights up.

"Wade!" You smile wide, wrapping your arms around him, holding him tight 'god does he smell good' .

You missed him, you missed a lot. "You okay? You look a bit wound up" He looks like he ran here.

Wade hugs you back just as tightly, pretending not to breathe in deeply when his face is in your hair, that shampoo is such a known and comforting scent by now.

"I'm golden! I swear, just ran a bit hot in the car" He tries to play his nervousness down, a lot. Stepping inside and then you two carry on with the date idea you had, sort of watching the first Episode of a new Show you two have been dying to see with popcorn and cuddles... very nice and sensual cuddles. It feels really good, having your head against his shoulder. Feeling the weight of his hand on your thigh, thumb stroking a rhythm into your skin.

After the episode ends you move your head slowly closer to his, giving him a gentle kiss while both your lips still taste of that sweet and sugary popcorn. You wanted this from the day you two met, to just cuddle and makeout and more.. he's such a wonderful man, everything he does is a slight turn on. Even if it's just taking his glasses off so he's able to kiss you back deeper, or sucking his fingertips clean after his bowl of popcorn.

You shift slowly, feeling his hand on your hip.

Moving yourself onto his lap.

He pulls away from the kiss, standing up "You want some water?? I uh, I gotta im really...- dry throat!" He coughs a bit and shrugs running off to the kitchen.

Hm.

When he returns you eye him carefully, pulling him on his belt to sit back down next to you.

When you lean in for another kiss he takes a big sip of his water, once he puts it down you wipe your thumb over his wet lips. "You sure your okay? Your not getting sick are you?" He's really warm so you place your palm onto his head. But he isn't hot there at all, Interesting.

"I'm..-" He takes a deep breath. He meant to say he's fine but..he's not and it wouldn't be fair to pretend that he is.

"I'm really nervous, about..-" He makes a funny hand gesture between the two of you.

"Oh.." You sit back once you notice.

"It's just been a while and I haven't been with anyone since.. -" He stops talking.

"We don't have to Wade! God im so sorry, please don't feel pressured!" You should have thought of that but you were too busy thinking about how he's driving you crazy lately.

"No no! It's okay I...- I want to" He smiles softly. "God believe me I really do, im just so nervous about it, I know sex. I know how to have great sex ! I mean I've been having sex since i was 18. That's a long time! I just haven't had sex with you and you make me..- god you make me so incredibly nervous" He sighs.

Its a strange but nice compliment, that you make him that nervous and that he's honest how difficult it is to sleep with someone after his wife died. It helps you to approach this with a full heart and empathy, pushing the need you have for him down a bit.

"Slow and steady?" You smile.

"YES! Yes....slow." He nods, staring at your lips and then your hands. Taking your right hand into his and that gives you an idea.

"Why don't you Show me Wade? Show me exactly what you like. I want this to be perfect for you" You squeeze his big hand gently.

His face turns a whole different shade of Red, it spreads to his ears and his chest. It's insanely difficult to not lean in for a heated kiss again. "Show you how?" He asks even though you are pretty sure he knows the answer to that.

"Move your hands on yourself the way you like to be touched so I can do it later.." your voice got a bit deeper and lower, it's beautiful to watch him fight the nervousness in this throat and hands. He gives you a quick nod. Moving his hands to his thighs, slowly running them up and down.

"I'm..- I'm sensitive on my thighs. It's little squeezes or moving a hand up slowly that really gets me" He sighs softly under your gaze. You take in the way he runs his right hand up his inner thigh, stopping before he gets too close to his crotch and then he moves it back down.

"Your doing great, show me more" You sit next to him on your knees. Hands on your thighs.

"I gotta take this off I think to show you..." He tugs at his shirt.

"Take it off if you feel comfortable enough." You throw him another warm smile and he nods. Tugging at the neck of his shirt and then he pulls it over his head, folding it neatly instead of tossing it somewhere.

The heat spread over his chest is intoxicating and it takes everything in you not to lean in and kiss his grey chest hair.

You keep a note on how his hand is still running along his own thigh, it looks like a big self soothing kind of touch.

Wade moves his other hand flat onto his chest, spreading his fingers through his chest hair and running his palm over his sternum. "That's where I feel that anxious bubble up sometimes and just running a palm along here calms me down, a lot, it's also nice when that hand wanders and squeezes my chest or uhm" He runs his thumb over his own nipple, a Sound comes out of him that suprises you a bit.

"Or that yeah" He chuckles and it slowly feels like he's calming down some.

"You are really sensitive aren't you?" It's torture at this point to keep your hands to yourself.

"I'd call it responsive? Just really react to everything very intensely and that's great! I mean it can be amazing but when it's something I don't like I just..- I react heavily to that too" He frowns a bit.

"I understand that. I get why it's so difficult, thank you for telling me Wade, seriously. I only want you to feel good." You point out.

You can see how crazy nervous it would make someone, being with the same woman for 20 years, she knew exactly how to touch him.. and now that's gone and readjusting such a set in Stone routine seems impossibly difficult.

It would be difficult for yourself too. And maybe over time you can do small tiny little changes and he Blooms again and tries out more things again. You'd love to see that Version of him.

"Thank you for being so patient with me" Wade leans closer this time, this time he's the one pressing his lips onto yours and kissing you deeply. And it really does feel better this way.

He feels a lot more into it then he did before.

When he breaks off the kiss you don't chase it, you let him continue to show you.

"Of course.." You whisper. Watching his hands work on his belt and zipper, god now the room suddenly got really really hot. The moan that comes rumbling out of his throat when he moves his hand into his briefs is sinful.

"God Wade, you look so beautiful right now. I don't think you even know how insanely hot you are, everything you do gets me. Especially watching you getting more and more comfortable for me, can I please touch you? Like one of the ways you showed me?" You can't take this anymore..

"I've never felt this way before, never touched myself that way, so please do" Wade huffs. He doesn't even think of himself as that sexy.

You nod and place your hand onto his chest just like he showed you, pressing your palm into his sternum while his hand strokes his cock in his underwear. Christ.

Your other hand moves to his thigh, tracing the inside up and down. "Like that?" You ask.

"Yes..exactly like that sweetheart" He sighs deeply and leans in for another kiss. While you kiss you can feel his hand slowly reaching out to take yours, you didn't expect that at all but he replaces his hand with yours and suddenly you have a insanely warm, thick and hard as a Rock cock in your hand. You pull back from the kiss, and the expression on his face makes your thighs clench together.

"You want to give me some more notes here Wade?" A big smirk is on your lips while you carefully move your hand up and down his lenght.

But Wade shakes his head "I..uh, I got nothing to add you are doing it perfectly" and for a moment you can see something almost like disbelieve in his eyes. That he can't believe he found a woman who knows exactly how to touch him the way he really likes it. This whole dating and finding out thing must have been really hard.

"Tell me what you like, please, it's been so about me I don't want you to feel left out!" Wade holds his hand above your thighs not too sure if he can touch or not. "I don't feel that way at all, I really want to just please you Wade, I want you to feel great and im sure whatever way you have me I'd be fantastic" You smile again when he grabs your thigh and kisses your cheek and your bodies slowly shift on the couch.

Until you find yourself underneath him, spreading your legs for him while your hand still slowly strokes up and down his cock.

His hands run up your sides, it feels like he's really taking in everything, the way you look on your back and how your clothes fall, the way your legs are at his sides. He really is a pretty slow and sensual guy, this is going to be a wild time for sure.

Your hand carefully moves out of his pants, keeping your hands to yourself for now. You have a feeling this really is only about you right now. You watch his fingers open the buttons on your thin shirt, one by one, he's being so slow and careful with it. You wear a simple top underneath which frames your chest pretty nicely, which, following his eyes he noticed.

Then he looks into your eyes "You are beautiful, really, breathtaking" He whispers. Helping you out of your shirt and out of your top as well. It's a good thing you decided on the dark blue bra and dark blue pair of lace panties tonight. His fingers stroke over the Material of the cup around your breast. These slow exploring touches really set your body on fire.

Then Wade opens yours pants, drags them slowly down your thighs and leans back to pull them off your feet. Both of his hands trace your leg back up from your ankles to your hips. Nobody ever took this much time appreciating your body before.

"You still okay? You can tell me when you want to stop Wade.." You stroke a hand over his cheek and the look on his face is adoreable. "I'm perfect, I was so nervous about this whole thing and now? Now I want to touch every inch of you, kiss every inch of you.." He whispers, leaning down to press his lips onto yours again and you move your hands back to how he showed you he likes it.

During that slow and Intense kiss you can feel his hand wander over your body again. Cupping your still clothed breast and then he drags it over your stomach, and then between your legs. His fingers stroke over the Material of your underwear and you wish your weren't wearing it anymore. It's almost as if that's what he's exactly teasing at, his fingers softly press against the fabric and you start to feel some mild friction.

His lips wander from your mouth to your neck.

"You are driving me crazy" You whisper and his fingers dig a bit deeper into your underwear. The way his lips trace your skin is so steady, so warm, so comfortable. He really meant it, wanting to kiss every inch of you. Against your will your hips move up just a little to meet more friction and instead of making you behave Wade moves his hand into your underwear, doing the exact same thing but now his two fingers rub against skin! "Wade...-" You moan out.

His fingers stroke over your clit but so painfully slow that there is no way you could ever cum from that and you are starting to think that's the whole purpose of doing it all so slow. He's savoring the moment while driving you absolutely crazy at the same time. And that works perfectly for the both of you.

Your hand wanders back into his underwear as well, stroking your hand over his cock just like she showed you. And when he moans you squirm underneath him, god that was the hottest moan you ever heard.

Wade really forgot how great it felt to be touched just exactly right by someone, when that gear just flips and everything they do is an instant turn on.. he missed that feeling, he missed that feeling so very much. He doesn't feel guilty anymore about seeking what he desires and getting what he needs, he needs a new emotional connection to someone, he really needs to be intimate with someone again. He’s truly happy that he found you. And he will make damn sure to show you his appreciation as best as he possibly can.

“Take it to the next step when you feel ready Wade okay?” You need to make sure he's okay. You can't even imagine how much meaning this has for him, how he's scared of it and how much he craves it at the same time.

When he nods and pulls back you can hear your own heart pounding in your chest. It's really happening..- After all these dates and getting to know someone, you finally get to know Wade all the way.

When he takes off every last piece of your and his clothing and suddenly you both are just…naked, on the couch. Overcome by a small wave of shyness you hesitate with opening your legs again for him, it was a different thing while you still had your bra and underwear on. Now everything is so vulnerable.

His hands stroke up your thighs and the look in his eyes asks for silent permission. Despite the nervous throbbing in your body you open your legs slowly and his hands get a hold on your hips while his body moves between your thighs.

He places the sweetest and deepest kiss onto your lips while his hand guides himself to your heated, longing core.

“Wade..” You move your hands to his face. Kissing his lips.

“You mean the World to me, if at any point you change your mind about this please tell me, we’re gonna be okay. I promise” his face lights up into a pure smile, you can see the youth in him, his age not suiting him at the moment at all, he looks like a young man drowned in love and it causes you to melt right underneath him.

“We’re gonna be okay..-” He repeats before he places his tip against you, never has a man pushed himself into you this slowly. Everytime you think that's gonna be it another inch disappears inside of you, your legs slowly wrap around his waist and when he's all the way inside he stops moving his entire body.

He's so quiet it would worry if you wouldn't know that he's going to open up if anything ever bothers him.

He feels incredible. He feels so comfortable. He gives your body enough time to accept him, to adjust to him, it's a perfect fit and somehow you knew it would be.

You didn't expect him to lift his head and look at you, holding your gaze when he starts to move his hips so carefully and gently.

Drawing a deep and long moan out of you.

Not knowing he enjoys it that slow has you melting even further into the couch, what a cruel beauty it is, every movement gets dragged out and the body building up to some kind of grand release goes on and on and on…

Almost as if there is no end in sight. But it's heaven, feeling him so closely, feeling the steady weight and gentle drag of his cock deep inside of you while he kisses your skin and moans the occasional word into your ear is heaven. The time he's able to pull while he keeps this up, keeps this so slow.. it feels like you are dreaming, as if you are connected for hours.

You touch him the way he showed you again, hand pressing and stroking over his chest when you get surprised by a deep moan. His hips barely change pace but it's enough to have you clawing at his shoulders. You can't take the building up to it anymore, he's so easily moving in and almost out of you because it made you incredibly wet to have this feeling last this long. You worry about cleaning the couch pillows tomorrow… for now all you want is his release, you need to look into his eyes when he finally spills into your body and lets go of this weight on his shoulders. Of this guilt he's been carrying for simply being a human being with needs and desires.

Your hands move his head gently closer to yours. “You're okay Wade, you're fine..- let go for me Baby.. I promise we're gonna be just fine” You press a kiss onto his cheek and then onto his other. He nods and places his lips onto yours when he thrusts just the smallest bit harder, and that added speed makes you clench around him, makes your back arch slightly off the couch while you loudly moan out his name.. “Wade…oh, fuck! Wade…” Your body is shaking from that orgasm. That pleasure. Like an elastic Band that just suddenly snapped and right after you feel him, you feel his cum fill you up while his hands clutch your hips and his head falls onto your shoulder. The moans coming out of him as he thrusts his full release into you almost sound broken, his first time since his wife passed that he made love to a woman again. That's how these moans Sound like.

When his hips stop moving you pull him into a close hug.

“God…-” He sighs deeply. “Oh why did I wait this long!” He mumbles, placing kisses onto your shoulder and collarbone. “That was incredible. Wow.” He lifts his head to finally look at you again. The mood is easy, he seems so happy, so lit up by finally letting go of this. Getting it over with so to speak. Moving on..

“It was pretty good.” You tease softly.

“How uh, how good?” He bites his tongue with a huff “You know what? Nevermind. I don't think I wanna know!” He shrugs.

“Well we can do it again…and again..and-” He kisses you deeply, starved, as if the two of you didn't just finish. “You bet sweetheart, you better be ready for that fire you started” He smirks wide. “Oh easy now cowboy!” You laugh and he kisses your head. “How about some hot coco and another Episode of this show?” He suggests. “That sounds amazing, but..- Stay for a bit? With me? Like this?” You run your hands over his back and his sides.

“Anything for you love, thank you for being so patient and..- understanding. You made me very very happy” Wade places another kiss onto your cheek before you two hold each other tightly again. You could seriously fall asleep like this, it's the most comfortable you have felt in a while…a long while.

“It was my pleasure Wade” You smile.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Hey thank you for reading and I really hope I did this prompt justice, also my very first time writing as Wade Felton !!!! Ahhh.

I did not read this for any mistakes yet so don't point out my probably plenty mistakes! Haha.

Tags: @toogaytofunctiondangit

#walton goggins #wade felton #wade felton x female reader #the unicorn #the unicorn wade #ask answered #thank you

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sinnabarmoth · 2 months ago

Text

Worthy of Devotion (9/9)

(A/N: Just wanted to give a quick thanks to everyone that has been reading this little fic of mine. This was a lot of fun and I appreciate any and all love you showed it!)

Pairing: Sea God|Rafayel x Worshipper|Reader (fem)

Summary: The life of the Sea God and his high priestess after they return to the ocean.

Content Warnings: Adult language. P in V.

Length: 3k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Read on AO3

When you and Rafayel had descended back into the sea you had thought that he was going to take you straight to Lemuria, but he didn’t. You coasted through the water, Rafayel holding you close and kissing you over and over again.

“I have three years to make up for.” he had said, sucking a bruise onto your neck. “They have been nothing short of an agony, my heart.”

“Well now, we don’t have to be apart again.” you didn’t think you’d be able to let him go for at least a couple days now that you were together again. “I am excited to see Lemuria.”

“I can’t wait to show you around. You’re going to love it, but first we need to make a quick stop somewhere.”

Your eyebrows knit. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” It took a few minutes but you eventually ended up on a very familiar coast.

“The Pearl Temple?” you asked as you waded onto the shore. “Why are we here?”

“I figured you would want to see everything your followers have done. It’s actually quite impressive.” he took you by the hand and pulled you towards the temple. Your heart swelled seeing the temple again. Memories echoed off of every surface.

And Rafayel was right, it looked amazing. Instead of the simple boards you had put up to keep out the elements a new ceiling had been patched in and painted, windows replaced, floors scrubbed and maintained, it looked exactly like you had pictured it when you first heard stories of this place. It was a ruin no longer.

There were some followers on the island now. You had remembered they had been sent some days ago and would not have had a chance to learn that you were leaving the church. When you entered and they saw you their eyes lit up immediately. “High priestess!” one of them called to you, “What are you doing here? And who is--” the young man, whose name you remembered was Leo, went silent as he took in Rafayel by your side.

“Rafayel, pleasure to meet you.” Rafayel nodded to the young man.

“You--you--you--” they stammered, eyes wide in disbelief. The others from other parts of the temple ran in from where they were studying and working to see what was happening. Their reactions to seeing you and Rafayel were about the same.

“Everyone,” you clapped your hands to get their attention. “Please don’t gawk.”

“Sorry, high priestess,” Leo said. “We just had no idea that you would--and the Sea God--what are you doing here? Has something happened?”

“Oh yes. Right. The short of it is that I am no longer high priestess and Rafayel and I were just stopping here for a bit to see the temple before leaving for Lemuria.”

“You’re no longer high priestess?” one of the girls said, tears in her eyes. “But why?”

“Because she can hardly be high priestess if she is living in Lemuria.” Rafayel answered. “And three years was enough time away, I don’t feel like sharing her anymore. Now, I am sure you have many questions but I would like to show my bride something upstairs. Go back to work and please do not disturb us.”

“What is upstairs?” you asked.

“The bedroom.” he scooped you up again. “It has been three years after all, clownfish. And when we get to Lemuria my people are not going to let us have a moment of peace so I’m taking the time I can get now.”

“Raf! You can’t just say that in front of them!” you hissed at him.

Everyone’s gaze shifted back and forth between you and Rafayel. Some averted their gaze entirely.

“Why not? They should be happy to know their god is in love.” He said as he started carrying you up the stairs.

When you got to the door of the bedroom you fished the key out of your pocket. You had been carrying it around on your person for three years as a lucky charm. Now it finally had purpose again. The room was exactly as you had left it. You felt your face heat a little as you saw the dirtied bedsheets you had stripped off the bed the morning after you made love still in a crumpled pile in the corner. Right…no one would have been able to come in and clean anything since you had the only key.

None of it mattered now though. Now you were truly alone together for the first time in three years. Rafayel had kicked the door closed behind you and dropped you on the sheetless bed. “Now you,” he said as he started removing all the ornamentation you decided to wear for your reunion, “You owe me an apology, clownfish.”

“What do I need to apologize for?” you asked, stripping him as well.

“You know damn well what.” he pulled your shirt free of your chest. “Those very special prayers you sent me. I know you knew I could hear them. The way you said my name, your whimpers and moans ringing so loudly only for me to be able to hear…”

“You’re saying you didn’t appreciate them even a little bit?” you reached for his pants, moving the material down his legs.

“I damn near swam to the mainland to abduct you every time I got one of those prayers.” he hovered over you, taking in your naked form. “If you wanted to drive me insane you succeeded, now I want an apology.”

“I’m sorry.” you said. You craned your body up to kiss his chest. “I won’t do it again. I promise. And to show you just how sorry I am--” you grabbed hold of him and flipped the pair of you over so you were on top. “I’ll show you exactly what I was thinking about when I was touching myself, wishing it was you instead.”

His eyes widened and you noticed that little spark of light in his eyes that you had missed so much. “Please do, cor meum.” He laid back, running his hands up and down the smoothness of your thighs.

You had many fantasies while you were separated and yet now that you had a chance to make them a reality you were stuck. Your body had only known this intimacy once and it was long ago now. He sensed your hesitation and propped himself up on his elbows. “Everything alright?”

“Yes, just nervous. I’ve been building this up in my head for years and I don’t want it to be bad.”

“It never could be. We can just take it slow.” he took your hand and brought it to your cunt. “You can start by showing me how you touched yourself.”

Your face lit once again. Your immediate reaction was to object but it was Rafayel. He had been hearing you do this numerous times over the course of three years. There was no shame here.

You leaned back, taking a deep breath as you began to circle your clit. Knowing that he wasn’t just listening but actually watching you turned you on even more. You swiped your clit a little faster and you could feel arousal pooling further down. You dipped your hand down to gather some of the slick arousal and went back to playing with your clit.

Rafayel shifted on the bed, his breathing getting heavier as he watched you. You dipped down again, passing over your cunt but not entering, teasing yourself. Your fingers were coated in your arousal and you felt your body start to tremble with need. A need to be filled in a way you hadn’t been in years.

You were about to start fingering yourself when Rafayel grabbed your hand and pulled it to his mouth, licking your juices off. He moaned at the taste, “I’ve missed the taste of you.” he said in a husky whisper. “You taste so sweet.”

“Raf--” a hum of pleasure rocked your body as he took both fingers into his mouth and sucked on them.

Your hips pressed down on him, feeling the heat of his erection grind against you. You could have stayed just like that, his cock wedge between you, the head grinding against your clit over and over as you smothered him in your honey. You might have had he not pulled your hips up.

“I need to be in you, cor meum.” he said. “Need to feel you all around me again.”

“Right…” your voice was as shaky as your legs. You took a calming breath and angled yourself up before letting yourself slide back down, taking every inch of his cock into your cunt once again. “Fuck!” you hissed as your body was stretched to accommodate him. It was not the same kind of pain you had experienced during your first time but your body had forgotten the shape of him the past couple years and you needed to breathe and center yourself again. Had he always been this big?

“So good,” he breathed out, hands holding your hips down. “I never want to leave you again.”

“Neither do I.” you braced your hands on his chest. You ground on him for a bit, shallowly thrusting and rutting against him as your body got used to being filled once more.

Your thrusts got a bit faster, a bit harder as you chased a burning pleasure that coursed through your body from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Rafayel felt it too, he helped to move your hips, keeping you moving when you thought your legs would give out on the task.

“Fuck--” he threw his head back against the pillows, “Missed you so much! Never going to let you go again. Never again.”

“Never. Never again.” you scratched deep red lines down his pale torso. His eyes snapped back to yours and you yelped a bit when he thrust up into you.

“I’m gonna take you home…make you my wife…” he moaned, forcing you to move faster. “Then, I’m gonna lock us away for a month and make love to you every hour of the damn day.”

“Raf!” you could feel yourself getting close.

“Gonna put a baby in you.” he groaned. “I want to see that so bad. Want to see you with your belly swollen with our kid. Gonna pump a whole brood into you.”

“Please! Raf! I’m close! I’m so close!” you begged.

“You’re mine.” he pressed a thumb to your clit, rubbing it harshly. “You are ever only going to be mine. I love you! I love you so much! I need you to come now. Please, I need to feel you come around me. Need to feel you come so I can come. Need to feel you come so I can come!”

“Ah!” your throat was raw with the scream of your orgasm. Your body went slack, collapsing on top of him as you rode out the pleasure.

Rafayel was still fucking up into you, hands on your ass moving you up and down his cock rapidly. It only stood to draw your orgasm out longer before he finally came too. “Fuck…” he breathed out. “I uh…sorry about that. I think my dick took over my brain for a minute there. I said a lot about getting you pregnant and I’m starting to realize we never really talked about that part or--”

You cut him off with a kiss. “More than alright.” you rested your head on his shoulder. “And I would love to have your kids one day.”

“And if I got you pregnant right now?”

“Then that is fate’s design for us.” you gently pulled yourself off of him and curled into his side. “I will say, a part of me was disappointed you didn’t end up getting me pregnant our first time together all those years ago. It would have been the perfect excuse for me to abandon everything and come home to you. But I suppose it is better that we had to wait.”

“It was a tempting idea.” Rafayel sighed. “Lemurians have a certain amount of control over when they can breed so when we had sex I was making sure that the seed wasn't fertile. There’s still a chance it was but I didn’t want to trap you with me when I knew you had a mission.”

“And what kind did you just put in me?” you asked.

“I’m not actually sure. I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his neck. “Good thing we’re getting married then.”

He smiled down at you, an eternity of love in his eyes. “Yes. A very good thing.”

~~~

In time, your story became another fantastic myth. The humble high priestess who had fallen in love with her god and was whisked away to the ocean to be his bride. In time the story would be warped and made even more fantastical. Carriages made out of pearl pulled by dolphins that came to deliver the priestess back to the mainland after her journey to a magical island where the Sea God lived. The tsunamis that devastated the city for twenty years while she was away from him, locked away by the corrupt elders. Each addition more ridiculous than the last. But at least through it all they had gotten one thing right, the Sea God returning to the continent to collect his bride and disappear with her into the ocean once again.

What the stories of the humans didn’t know was everything that had happened after.

They didn’t know about the happy life you shared in Lemuria. The magical wedding you had where you were officially made the wife of the Sea God.

They didn’t know about the baby girl you had a few months after that and how much Rafayel had cried when she was born. Or the twin boys a couple years later that were every bit as dramatic and tricky as their father.

“You lose again, daddy!” your daughter cackled as she sat across from Rafayel, a finished board game between them.

“You have to be cheating!” Rafayel said. “You and your mother both have to be cheating at this game! I cannot be this bad at freaking Jumping Shrimp!”

“After eight years of me whipping his butt you’d think he’d have gotten better at it, huh Neri?” you ruffled her hair as you passed. “Now Raf, if you’re done losing to the child can you grab the boys? We’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon.”

“We are going to have a rematch later, angelfish.” he kissed the top of your daughter’s head and went to find the boys.

Raf came back with either of the boys under each arm. “Got them.”

“Mom! Make him let us go!” Reef whined, trying to wiggle his body out from under Rafayel’s arm.

“Only if you and Kai promise not to run off again. If you run off then you’re not coming with us. Got it?”

“Yes mom.” the boys echoed in unison and Rafayel let them go.

“Great. Now let’s get going.”

The boys took your hands as you swam away from Whalefall City. Neri was having fun doing flips while swimming by Rafayel. As you started to enter the dark part of the ocean where the light of Lemuria didn’t touch you told everyone to stay close and not let go of one another.

You could feel the boys holding tight to you. Rafayel was lighting the way with his fire, the only source of light this deep.

“Mom,” Kai said, pulling on your arm. “I don’t like it down here.”

“I know it’s a little scary at first but it won’t be for long. I promise. Just stay close to me.”

You looked over at Rafayel and with a smile he extinguished the light. There was a minute of pitch blackness and you could sense the kids getting antsy before--

WHOOSH!

The kids jumped as a bright light of magenta light lit up the sea. Immediately their fear turned to joy as more columns of heated light and bubbles erupted around you in a kaleidoscope of colors.

“Dad! Can we go swim around them? Please!” the kids pleaded.

“Yes. Just be careful.” the kids had darted away from you the next instant, bobbing and weaving around the colorful spray of the geysers. “Don’t get too close they’re really hot!”

You inched closer to Rafayel and the moment you were in arm’s reach he pulled you to him. “They’re about as troublesome as you some days.” Rafayel said.

“Me? That’s all you out there, my darling. I had nothing to do with that.”

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that, clownfish.”

“I still think it rude that you call me clownfish but Neri gets to be called angelfish.”

“That’s cause she’s my little girl.”

“And I’m just your wife, the mother of your children, no big deal.”

“A very big deal actually.” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Cor meum.”

You reclined against him, his arms holding you close as you watched your kids play among the bursts of colorful geysers. You couldn’t have prayed for a better life than this.

#love and deepspace #lads rafayel #lads mc #rafayel x mc #rafayel x reader #lads sea god au #sea god rafayel

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sweet-villain · 4 months ago

Text

Cause I Believe~ 1~ Older E.M

Summary : You move next door to Eddie Munson, and he welcomes you with his friends.

Author's Note : I had so much fun writing this.

Older Eddie

Boxes crowd the porch as you fumble with the last big box, the air thick with the smell of fresh paint and sun-baked wood.

A figure leans on the fence in the upstairs complex, a cigarette hanging loose from his lips. Eddie Munson. Scruffy beard, long brown hair dusted with silver, tattoos inked into his skin like a personal history. His gaze lingers, unsettling yet intriguing.

" Welcome to the shit hole" His voice carries a gravely edge but he doesn't turn to glance at you.

You offer him an uneasy smile, unsure about the way he stood, " Thanks?"

The air hung heavy. He takes long drags of his cigarettes, eyes moving slowly towards you and looking away quickly.

" What's with the box? You hiding some toys or your stash or porno magazines?" He chuckled, teasing.

" Just some junk" you shrugged.

" You must have a lot of junk, then"

Before you answer him, a group calls out his name rounding the corner. Your eyebrows knit together not really recognizing them.

" Oh! Eddie's got a new neighbor!"

Dustin nudges Mike. “Think they’ll survive living next to Eddie?”

“Probably not,” Robin chirps, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Eddie rolls his eyes but can’t hide the twitch of a smile.

“Don’t mind him,” Steve nudges Eddie, “he mostly bites.”

" I'm Steve" he offers his hands out. Steve had chestnut hair, long, some strand hanging from his forehead creating a shadow like and you can see chest hair peeking out of his shirt. He sported a scruff on his face and glasses. He was kinda cute.

" Y/N" you shook his hand.

" Stop flirting with my neighbor, Harrington" Eddie mumbles loud enough for Steve to hear.

Steve chuckled, raising his eyebrow. " Aw, don't worry Munson. She's all yours." Eddie rolled his eyes.

Eddie flicks the ash from his cigarette, crossing his arms defiantly. “Yeah, right. I’m just here to enjoy this shit hole of a town."

Dustin leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. “Seriously, though. Are you settling in? Or are you just gonna stare at Eddie all day?”

Your eyes widen at his question, red appears on your cheeks. You didn't mean to stare at Eddie. But he was really pretty, he must of had all the girls in high school.

“I just… You know, boxes.”

Robin snorted."Boxes? That's your excuse?" She chuckles, her eyes glinting with amusement. “If I were you, I’d be more interested in our resident rockstar over here.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and pushes Robin shoulder playfully, " Hey, now Buckley."

Robin sidesteps, laughter spilling into the cool afternoon breeze. “What? It’s true! Just look at those tattoos. You could practically sell tickets.”

Eddie snorts, shaking his head. " You do know I know how to play guitar and sing." “Yeah? Never heard of a tattooed rockstar that could play a mean bone flute,” Dustin quips, nudging Eddie with his elbow. The laughter crescendos around you, an infectious rhythm that sets the tone.

" Where you all friends in high school?" you asked.Mike scratches the back of his head, glancing at the others. “More like we became friends through, you know, monster hunting and—”

“Way too many Dungeons & Dragons sessions,” Dustin interjects, eyes sparkling with nostalgia.

" What did you mean monster hunting? Like hunting for animals or what?" Dustin beams like he’s about to share a great secret. “Not animals—like, actual monsters. We faced Demogorgons, Mind Flayers, all that fun stuff!” He gestures grandly.

" What?" you looked at them strangly. " What are those?" Eddie notices your eyes look wide a bit. Eddie chuckles, leaning against the fence, arms still crossed. “You probably think we’re a bunch of lunatics right now.”

“Maybe?” A nervous laugh escapes you, face still warm from the conversation.

" You all look nice and welcoming, but you look trouble Eddie.." Eddie lifts an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. “Trouble? Nah, just misunderstood.” He offers a mock bow, the cigarette dangling precariously.

" I'm sure your great, Eddie" you brushed a piece of hair behind your ear while holding the box still. Eddie's smirk deepens, a playful challenge flickering in his eyes. “Great? That’s quite the compliment. Do I look great?”

" I mean... fasinating.." Eddie leans closer, feigning a hurt expression. “Fascinating? That’s it? I was expecting ‘incredible’ or ‘magnificent.’” His lips twitch, barely holding back a grin.

“Right! I’m Dustin, this is Mike, and that’s Robin.” He gestures to each as if presenting trophies.

“Dustin,” you repeat, catching his infectious enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you all.”

Do you need help settling in?" Steve asked as he eyed you up and down, already developing a small crush. “Uh, sure,” you reply, eyeing the remaining boxes stacked like confounding towers. “I wouldn’t mind some extra hands.”

“Count me in!” Steve beams, as if he thrives on teamwork.

" I have things to do" Eddie says, not wanting to get close to you even though you seem nice. He didn't want to get close to you, as in a pretty girl like you.. he just can't. He never gets the girl. Eddie flicks his cigarette onto the ground, the ember glowing briefly before extinguishing under his boot. He scoffs lightly, folding his arms tighter.

“Yeah, right. Like you’re just going to sit back and let Harrington pullall the weight around here,” Robin challenges, her eyes narrowing at Eddie with a playful fire.

"I'm sure Eddie is doing his best estimate of a rockstar," Steve jabs, nudging Eddie with a grin.

“More like a rock!”Eddie narrows his eyes at Steve, a mock frown plastered on his face. “Rude. Rocks have feelings too, you know.”

" Some special rocks then" You laugh, the absurdity of it bubbling in your chest. “Maybe a rock that plays guitar?”

Eddie feigns a dramatic gasp. “Excuse me, that’s way too close to my personal brand.” He taps his temple, mocking a deep thought.

" Maybe those special rocks with have an album on your shelf as a trophy"Eddie glances at you, his eyes brightening for a fleeting moment. “An album? Now that’s not a bad idea. I could call it ‘Rock Solid.’”

Dustin bursts into laughter, slapping his knee. “

“I’d buy that album,” you shot back, your grin widening. Eddie watches, surprise etching across his face, an unfamiliar warmth creeping into his expression.

Eddie shakes his head, the charming banter swirling around him, but it feels like an echo slightly detached from his reality.

You swing open the weathered oak door to your apartment, gesturing for them to enter. Eddie lingers behind, his lean frame silhouetted against the twilight sky. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of silvery smoke that swirls in the cool evening air. His ring-adorned fingers grip the wrought iron fence, knuckles whitening with tension.

Stepping inside, your guests are enveloped by the warmth of your uniquely curated space. The apartment exudes a cozy, eclectic charm that defies conventional styles. Vintage photographs and vibrant art posters adorn the walls, each telling a fragment of your story. A plush, well-worn leather couch invites relaxation, its cushions adorned with an assortment of colorful throw pillows. The kitchen gleams with polished countertops and neatly arranged copper pots, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air, hinting at the culinary adventures to come.

A scattering of houseplants clung to the sunlight, their leaves glistening with vitality.

“Dude, this place is awesome!” Dustin exclaimed, eyes wide as he stepped into the cozy scene.

Thank you, I love to design and play with colors" you tell him. “Colors really pop,” Mike nods, glancing around the living room before zeroing in on the wall hung with eclectic art. “Did you do all this yourself?”

" Yeah, most of it. My mother used to be a painter.." Mike’s eyes soften, a flicker of understanding shining through. “That’s really cool. It’s got character, you know? Feels warm here.”

Robin eyes one of the paintings and it's you. " Did she paint this?" Your gaze follows Robin’s, landing on a vibrant portrait. You nod, the warmth of nostalgia washing over you. “Yeah, she did. It's one of my favorites. Captured me during a summer dance in our backyard.”

" I was ten there I believe. At least that was she told me. My mom alwasy thought I've held some magic when I danced, used to sing too..." you trailed. A soft smile dances across your lips, bittersweet memories surfacing.

"Are you going to give Eddie a run for his money? Be the new musician in the neighborhood?" Dustin asked. You chuckle, shaking your head at the absurdity. “Hardly. My dancing days are behind me, and I’m no rockstar.”

" You never know, you and Eddie could sing together one day." Steve suggests. Laughter erupts, threading through the air like a playful breeze.

" I stopped singing when my mother died.." you glanced down at your converse. Silence coated the room like a soft blanket, the lively chatter fading into a hush. A weight pressed into the air, heavy with understanding.

" She was the only one to believe in me. She said I had the most angelic voice she's ever heard. I used to put my little sister to bed singing her a bed time song..." Steve exchanges a glance with Mike, the lively energy of their previous banter dimming. Dustin shifts awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, as if trying to find a lighthearted comment.

" We're sorry, we didn't mean to bring anything up." You shake your head, a faint smile flickering back. “It’s okay. Just… sometimes things slip out.”

" That's also why I decided to move out, her funeral was... a month ago..." The room remains still, the weight of your words settling over the group like a thick fog. Dustin glances around, his youthful face painted with concern.

"Hey, we totally understand," Steve says, his voice low and steady.

“Whenever you’re ready to talk or just need to vent, we’re here.”

You nod slowly, appreciation swelling against the ache in your chest. “Thanks. It helps, really.”

" I hardly know you guys, too." The room buzzes with a peculiar intensity, a blend of sympathy.

“Yeah, but that’s how we roll around here,” Steve declares, leaning against the arm of the couch, arms crossed.

" We support one another" Dustin says. " We have each other's back" Robin adds. Eddie shifts his weight, the flicker of cigarette smoke dancing around him, creating an illusion of distance. Unbothered by the heaviness, he taps his fingers against his arm, a nervous gesture that breaks the stillness.

" Like a family" Eddie mumbles. Dustin leans back, nodding vigorously. “Exactly! And you’re part of it now. That is, if you can handle our weirdness.”

Hey!" Steve plafully glared as he pouted. You chuckle, warmth spreading through your chest.

" It's just might be what I need" you mumble, " It's been a long time since I've really smiled.." Dustin's eyes sparkle, a hint of mischief swirling within. “Then we have our mission! Operation Make Y/N Smile starts now!”

You chuckle at Robin’s exasperation, the tension in the room easing a fraction. “Okay, I appreciate the enYou chuckle at Robin’s exasperation, the tension in the room easing a fraction. “Okay, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I do need to sort through this stuff.”

" By the way, what is a dingus?" you asked. Laughter erupts again, and for a moment, the heaviness lifts.

“Dingus?” Dustin’s eyes sparkle with glee.

“I think it’s a term of endearment,” Mike offers, grinning.

“It means youa bit of a goofball,” Steve chimes in, winking at Dustin. “That applies to all of us at some point.”

" You should get it tattooed then, Eddie" you playfully chuckled at him as a joke. Eddie raises an eyebrow, his expression shifting between mock horror and genuine intrigue. “A tattoo? Of ‘dingus’? That’s what I need, a permanent reminder of my goofball status.” He taps his chin, takingover his demeanor.

“I could design it,” you suggest, your voice light as you scan the room, feeling the infectious energy.

"Oh boy" Eddie mumbles as he walks into your apartment closing the door. Eddie leans his back against the door, arms crossed, eyes darting around the room. He takes in the vibrant colors, the warped frames holding photographs, each seeming to whisper stories of laughter and joy.

" What's the matter, Eddie? It's not dark and gloomy to your taste?" you asked.Eddie straightens, feigning a look of horror. “What? No skulls? No velvet curtains?” He gestures dramatically around the room. “What am I supposed to do with all this brightness? Wear sunglasses?”

"That looks like more of my bedroom thing" you smirked. Eddie throws his head back, laughter erupting from him as he steps deeper into your vibrant world. “Your bedroom must be a whole other gallery, then. I’m just picturing rainbows and unicorns.”

" I don't like pink, and I am not exactly a girly girl" you glance down at your Metallica worn shirt and black shorts with green converse. Eddie raises an eyebrow, his grin broadening. “Metallica, huh? I can get behind that. At least your style has some edge.” He takes a step closer, his interest igniting as he surveys your eclectic taste.

" Well I do ride a motorcycle. A harley" Eddie's eyes widen, a spark of genuine admiration flickering across his face. “A Harley? Now that’s pretty badass.” He shifts his weight, leaning in slightly. “What model?”

“Sportster,” you reply, a flicker of pride igniting in your chest. “Nothing crazy, but it gets me where I need to go.”

" I like you" Robin says as she pushes into your shoulder, " you're going to get along with us just fine. Another Eddie though." You chuckle, shaking your head. “Let’s not get carried away. I’m as much of a weirdo as you all are, but another Eddie? That’s a stretch.”

" Hey! I'm pretty great" Eddie puts a hand on his chest. “Sure you are, Munson,” Steve teases, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied grin. “Great at being a lovable weirdo. Best title ever.”

You open the box and it's full of your records you have collected. Vinyl records spill out like treasures from a forgotten past, their covers bursting with color and nostalgia. You can’t help but smile as you pick out a few.

“Whoa! You’ve got some classics here,” Steve says, " some of these are rare. Were you parents rich or something?" “Just lucky to find them at garage sales and thrift shops,” you explain, holding up a record with a tattered cover. “This one’s from an old-school band. My mom loved collecting vinyl.”

" Okay, stop being so cool" Eddie says. " You're going to give me a heart attack. I'm still young...well..you know what I mean..." You laugh, the sound bubbling over like a sunny stream. “Don’t worry, Munson. I’m not planning on stealing your title as the coolest in the neighborhood. That crown’s all yours.”

" Would you two stop flirting already? Get a room" Mike rolls his eyes. The teasing hung in the air like a well-placed joke, your cheeks warming at Mike’s comment. You exchanged a glance with Eddie, both of you caught off guard by the quip.

“Flirting?” Eddie scoffed, hiseyes darting towards Mike, incredulity painted across his features. “Please. I don’t even know her last name yet.” He takes a deliberate step back, running his fingers through his hair as a way to regain his composure.

" And I'm sorta seeing someone" Eddie says, shrugging. “Sorta?” You echo, the curiosity bubbling to the surface. “That’s a peculiar way to put it.”

“Complicated,” he replies, leaning against the door, arms folded tight.

" You can just say you have a fuck buddy" you shrug. "We aren't 12" Eddie’s smoky laughter dances through the air, a spark of surprise flickering in his eyes. “Damn, someone’s bold.”

“Just keeping it real,” you respond, a playful glint in your gaze.

" How about you, Y/N? Have anyone coming to swoop you off your feet?" Steve asks. The question hangs in the air, a sudden spotlight illuminating the room. A light flush creeps into your cheeks as you shift your weight awkwardly.

" Not really, but riding a motorcycle like I have, has it's perks" you smirked. Dustin leans in, eyes wide with intrigue. “Oh, are you saying you’re dangerously cool? Like a movie heroine?”

“Something like that.” You grinned.

Every guy I have came across, stares at my bike then at me, back at my guy and asks for my number." A ripple of laughter courses through the group, each taking turns to react.

“Nice! That’s how you know you’re doing something right,” Dustin cheers, fist-pumping the air.

"One time I had gave this guy the number of my aunt who lives in California and she didn't understand what he said. She called me telling me some string cheese mop head was calling her in the middle of the night asking for a ride" you giggled. Laughter erupted in waves, the room brimming with shared stories and genuine delight.

“String cheese mop head, eh?” Steve cackled, nearly doubling over. “I’m stealing that one for future use.”

" He had spagetti like hair, greasy too. He didn't have enough balls either to check the name I have written down either on the paper" you snorted. More laughter erupted, the room vibrating with the energy of shared humor. Eddie leaned against the door, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Sounds like a true gem of a guy. Really raises the bar for us, huh?”

" His zipper was undone too, I had a peek of the small carrot he had" Laughter bursts forth, an eruption of mirth that fills the room like music. Steve nearly collapses against the arm of the couch, howling with glee. “No way! You are not serious!”

" His buddy next to him, listening to our conversation forgot his pants at the bar. He had whales on his boxers, a leather jacket on and a red bandana on his head." The laughter swells, echoing against the walls. Steve struggles to breathe, clutching his stomach as if it might explode.

“Whales?” Dustin wheezes between breaths. "What kind of guys did you attract?"

" Not just whales, when he turned to walk away, he had a tatoo that said " Mama".“‘Mama,’ huh?” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. “Now that’s a classy touch.” “Right? I mean, who doesn’t want a walking reminder of their mom on their butt?” You feign a serious tone, and Eddie bursts into laughter, the sound deep and genuine, pulling

Dustin opened the box and gasped seeing a whole system music set up. " You'r rich!" "Rich?" You cock an eyebrow, feigning offense as you retrieve a vintage record from the box. “This is thrift-store treasure hunting at its finest. Beats any of this overpriced junk you find in stores. You just need to look harder.”

" I'm an explorer and a finder" Dustin holds up a record, eyes wide with delight. “You’re telling me you just stumbled upon this treasure?”

“Pretty much. The thrill’s in the hunt,” you say, your smile reflecting the joy of discoveries made over years.

" I didn't have any friends so this is all I did.." you scratched the back of your head. Dustin's expression turned sympathetic but curious. “What do you mean? No friends? With all this cool stuff, I figured you had a whole crew.”

" My father..." you gulped "...he was a drunk..." you closed your eyes ".... he beat me when I was home.. so I could not show anyone the bruises..." You looked away. " I didn't want to be home, so I went to hunt the best things I could find. Brought my mom things, used my allowance just that I could see her smile." You glanced at the ground. " I was too afraid for anyone to see me like that." Silence enveloped the room again, a stark contrast to the earlier warmth. Each friend’s gaze shifted, taking in the gravity of your words.

" He would beat my mom, but I'd cover her" your eyes closed rememebring the memories. “Things got better after he died..." “...but it took time,” you finish, the weight of the past unfurling in the quiet, palpable stillness.

" Please don't look at me like that" you begged. The weight of silence pressed against you, an unyielding void that seemed to stretch between moments. A cocktail of emotions brewed among the group, each one grappling with the reality of your words.

" Please.." A flicker of concern darkens Steve's gaze, his comforting demeanor faltering under the weight of your admission. He clasps his hands tightly in his lap, wrestling with the impulse to reach out.

" I'm not a broken record" Your voice weaves through the silence, but the weight of your confession seems to hang in the air like a thick fog.

"It's life, and I'm a survior" The silence thickens, wrapping around you like a tender embrace. You draw a shaky breath, the words reverberating through the room, knitting together empathy and understanding.

Dustin wrapped his arms around you and placed his head on top of yours. The warmth of Dustin’s embrace felt oddly comforting, like being wrapped in a blanket on a chilly night. His head rested against yours—light, reassuring—reminding you that you weren’t alone.

“ We aren't going anywhere" He says. You lean into Dustin, grateful for the comfort of his presence, the chaos of life momentarily quieting down.

" Eddie lives next door, you can always talk to him" Dustin suggest. But something in Eddie didn't sit right. " I'm not going to be her tharipist" Eddie says. Dustin pulls away, shooting Eddie a look laced with indignation. “Come on, Eddie. That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? She just needs some support.”

" No" Eddie growled. Eddie’s voice cut through the fragile atmosphere, tension coiling around his words like a snake. His arms remained crossed, but now they looked like a barrier.

"She has a phone" Dustin’s eyes narrowed, disbelief washing over his face. “Eddie, seriously? It’s not just about talking to people on the phone. Sometimes you just need someone to listen, face-to-face.”

"She's just a girl" Eddie continues, " She is capable of calling someone" Dustin’s eyes spark with frustration. “So what? Just because she’s a girl, she doesn’t need support? Everyone needs someone to talk to!”

" Not me" he grumbled.Dustin’s frustration flared, his voice rising with indignation. “You can’t just shut her out because you’re scared of getting close! That’s not fair!”

" I'm not scared, why would I want to get close to her? Just because she a cool collection of music? A motorcycle? Ha!" Eddie's words hung in the air, sharp and biting. You shifted uncomfortably, caught in the middle of this unexpected clash.

" You're being too harsh, Eddie" Robin says. Eddie shifts, jaw clenched. “I’m just saying, people have their own shit to deal with. I can’t be someone’s crutch.”

" It's fine" you mumble, " I don't need some old smoking wannabe rockstar. Don't let the door hit you on the way out" you stood up from where you were sitting storming to your room and slamming the door. Who does he think he is? The thud of the door echoed in the small apartment, a sharp punctuation to your frustration. You pressed your back against the cool wood, eyes squeezed shut as you breathed heavily.

Fuck Eddie.

The walls felt like they were closing in, each breath heavy with frustration. You pressed your palm against the door, wishing for the chaotic swirl of voices to fade.

" That wasn't necessary, Munson" Steve says. " Shut it, Harrington" Eddie says. Silence followed your retreat, the air thick with unresolved tension. The silence settled like a thick fog, wrapping around the group. Outside your door, muffled voices began to spiral, battling against the weight of what had just transpired.

“Eddie, what the hell?” Steve’s voice cracked slightly, disbeliefundeniable in his tone.

Eddie leaned against the wall, his head tilted back, gaze distant. “What the hell did you want me to say? ‘Welcome to the family!’? She doesn’t need me.”Steve crossed his arms. “That’s not the point, Munson! She’s hurting, and you just—”

“Just what? Became her therapist?” Eddie cut him off, frustration lacing his words.

" Don't use your dick, Eddie" Robin says. Eddie stood rigid, swallowing the weight of Robin’s words. The air thickened between them, alive with an electric tension. “I’m not trying to be a dick! I just don’t want to get involved in someone else's mess.”

You walked out of your room pointing a finger at Eddie, " I don't need you to be my friend or my therapist. I understand now why you can't keep a girl. I get it. " Your voice sliced through the lingering tension, brittle and frayed. Eddie’s eyes widened, the surprise washing over his features like a cold wave. His posture shifted, arms falling to his sides as you stepped into view.

" So tell me, why. Enlight me, princess " Eddie spatted throwing his hands. The room bristled with tension, a standoff brewing in the thick air between you and Eddie. His dark eyes narrowed, resentment flickering like embers.

“Enlighten you?” you jabbed, anger fueling every word. “You think you can just stand there, looking all brooding and mysterious, and expect everyone to bow down? You’re not special, Eddie. You’re just another guy lost in your own mess.”

" Yeah, princess. That's all you got?" Eddie laughs. The laughter bursts from him, a hollow sound that reverberates against the walls, mingling with the tension hanging in the air.

"You really think you know me?" Eddie sneers, his voice dropping an octave, the confrontation pushing the boundaries of the moment like a taut string ready to snap.

" You probably never cleaned up after yourself, you reek of cigarettes and cheap smell coming from the trash can. When was the last time you brushed your hair? Look at that too, you're already getting old with all the grey hair. You're dick is probably wrinkyl too." Eddie’s laughter died, replaced by a sharp intake of breath as your words struck deep. The room fell into an echoing silence, the weight of your insult hanging in the air like a lead balloon.

" Listen here, you brat" he starts, his voice low and steady, a dangerous calm seeping into the intensity of the moment.

“Maybe I don’t clean up after myself,” he continued, eyes narrowing like a predator assessing its prey, “but at least I have friends." Your heart raced, the anger ricocheting in your chest. "Friends? Is that what you call them—people who watch you smoke yourself to death and enable your miserable attitude?"

" My health isn't your business, princess" Eddie's words sliced through the stillness, a low growl that resonated with defiance. He stood there, unruly hair framing his face, tattoos shifting against his skin, a storm of emotions flickering in his dark eyes.

"You think your harsh words struck a nerve in me? Think again princess, I've been through a lot worse.." Eddie adds. His gaze bore into you, fierce and unwavering, challenging you to flinch.

“Worse than what? Stop being so dramatic, Munson." You glared back, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

" Try again, sweetheart. I dare you" his gaze darkens. A fierce silence settled like a dark cloud, thick with unspoken challenges. You could almost feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, daring you to dig deeper.

“Why don’t you tell me then?” You shot back, your voice unwavering, defiance twinkling in your eyes. “Let’s see who can out-terrible each other.”

" I don't have time for play time" he mumbles, rolling his eyes. His arms dropped to his sides, frustration rippling through his posture as he turned slightly away, still trapped in the conflict swirling in the room.

" Did I hit a nerve? You ran out of words to say? Oh poor me" you dramatically put a hand on your forehead. Eddie's expression hardened, a flash of vulnerability battling behind the defiance. He fisted his hands at his sides, straining against the unwelcome wave of frustration that built behind his ribcage.

“Enough with the performance,” he say, pointing a finger, " that mouth will get you in trouble." Your laughter slipped free, cutting through the tension. “Trouble? Please, I've been living in it long before I moved in next door to you.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability hidden behind bravado. “You are nothing but a brat." “Brat? Really? That’s the best you got?” You shot back, arms crossed defiantly.

Eddie leaned against the wall, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “It fits, doesn’t it? You probably never had a boyfriend dick you down good." Your breath hitched, outrage mixing with surprise. The bluntness of his words struck like lightning, charging the air between you. “Excuse me?” You narrowed your eyes, disbelief draping over your features.

“ Guys, stop fighting" Dustin say. " The both of you are adults" Dustin's voice sliced through the charged atmosphere, a plea echoing in stark contrast to the tension crackling between you and Eddie.

“Yeah, adults who apparently act like children,” you shot back, your defiance barely holding back the sting.

" Sweetheart, you're acting like you never been laid. That's your problem. "The room tensed further, air crackling as if charged with static electricity. Emotions swirled like a wild storm, and the accusation hung in the air, sharp and biting.

" Oh god, you two are going to be the enemies to lovers?" Robin pinches the bridge of her nose. Caught in the moment, you and Eddie shot her incredulous looks, both equally infuriated and puzzled.

“Enemies to lovers? What, am I supposed to swoon now?” Eddie scoffed. " She's nothing but a little girl that needs her pussy fucked." The room exploded with silence. You and Eddie locked eyes, the air thick with tension, his words hanging like a dark cloud over the group. Anger flickered in your chest, a fire breathing life into your indignation.

“Such big words for such a boy like you, Eddie." The sting of your words wrapped around the room, silence falling heavy. Eddie’s smirk wavered for a second, surprise flickering in his dark eyes.

“Boy? That’s all you’ve got?”

" I don't think you even had a relationship ever in your life, Eddie. Did you ask someone out and they looked at you and said, no thanks, he's garbage? Oh poor you, " you taunted. Eddie’s expression darkened, the smirk faltering before vanishing entirely. A flicker of hurt glimmered in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a scowl.

“Wow, real original there.” He crossed his arms.

" Let me guess, you find some girl in a bar or somewhere and take them to your unmade, unwashed sheets of a bed and fuck them with your little dick until they leave and your back to square one..." Eddie’s jaw tightened, the tension in his body palpable. A flicker of something shattered in his gaze—was it anger, embarrassment? You couldn’t tell.

“Wow, real clever.” He stepped forward, invading your space, shadows playing as he towers over you. You had to admit, he looked really hot right now.

" Bite me" you looked at him with a sneer. Eddie leaned in closer, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I will.” The words rolled off his tongue, a dangerous blend of challenge and flirtation.

" If the two of you are going to fuck, please let us leave first " Steve whined. Laughter erupted once more, cutting through the thick tension that hung like fog between you and Eddie. The absurdity of the moment seeped back into your bones, laughter bubbling up unexpectedly. Steve’s face morphed into mock horror, eyes wide as he coverd his ears.

" You two are disgusting staring at each other like your ripping each others clothes off" Mike shivered in disgust. Eddie stepped back, amusement dancing in his eyes, a smirk returning to his lips. “What can I say? It’s a hot vibe we got going.” He playfully flexed his arms.

" As If I ever would sleep with him" you scoweld. " I don't sleep with small dickheads who reek of cigarettes and doesn't know what clean sheets are. Eddie’s laughter faded, a flicker of something sharper taking its place. “Clean sheets don’t do much good if they’re just going to end up in a pile on the floor.” He shifted, crossing his arms.

" What? Are you poet now? Are going to lay down the lines now?" Eddie leaned back against the wall, arms crossed tightly, smirk returning with a hint of daring. “I could be. Got me all inspired, sweetheart.” He raised his eyebrows, a playful glint in his dark eyes.

" Look at yourself, Eddie. Your hair looks like it hasn't been brushed for days. You have drool in the corner of your mouth from looking at me too long" you flipped your hair with a smirk, " you reek and you have mud on your shoes."

Eddie's smirk faltered for a brief second, and behind those dark eyes, you could catch a flicker of something—something like confusion, maybe hurt. But he masked it quickly, a defensive armor sliding back into place.

" At least I don't talk too much and use my mouth for other activities" he smirks.

" Ew! We are still here, you know?" Dustin groaned. " Eddie, I know your old and stuff but please.. " Dustin’s voice pulled the sharp tension from the room like a stubborn thorn, easing the simmering pressure for a fleeting moment. Eddie rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall, an exaggerated sigh escaping his lips.

" Old? I have a stamina of a race horse. Just because I have few greay hairs, doesn't mean shit.." Eddie says. “Right, and I bet that ‘stamina’ is all in your head,” you retort, raising an eyebrow. Eddie steps forward, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Care to test that theory, princess?”

" Again. We are in the room!" Steve shouts. " We don't need to hear you two." You roll your eyes at Steve, heart racing from the escalating tension. Eddie’s gaze remains locked on yours, an electric current buzzing in the air.

Eddie hungrily looks at you, licking his lips. The heat in the room escalates, crackling with unspoken tension as you both stand toe to toe, unyielding and defiant.

" It's like we can smell you two. Sexual tension" Mike says. " Disgusting." The interruption seemed to spark another wave of laughter, but it simmered beneath the surface like an unspoken truth, charging the air between you and Eddie with an electric energy.

" He smells like a trash can, no way he's getting near my bed or close to touching me." Eddie feigned a gasp, his hand clutching at his heart as if you’d dealt a mortal blow. “Trash can? Ouch, sweetheart. That’s cold.”

" Go take a shower! A cold one at that!" Eddie squints, pretending to reel from your words, hand clutching his chest dramatically. “A cold shower? You’re trying to torture me now, Y/N?”

“Just trying to spare the world from your stench,” you shoot back. "God knows where your hands have been.." Eddie feigns horror, hands flying to his temples as if you’ve delivered a lethal blow. “My hands? Sweetheart, I’ll have you know they’re pristine. I only touch the finest things… like my guitar and—”

“NO! no need to hear anything anymore!" Dustin shouted putting his hands up. " I"m leaving, I don't know about you guys" he pointed to Mike, Steve and Robin. Dustin pushed through the door, shaking his head as he exited. “I can’t deal with this high school drama. I’m out!”

“Yeah, good luck unpacking,” Steve called after him, barely containing his laughter. Robin follows knocking her shoulders into you, " I suggest you give Munson a bath yourself " she smirks. You chuckle, brushing her off with a light shove. “As if I’d waste my time on that.” The playful banter lingers, but the thick scent of unresolved tension still hangs in the air.

" You two are disgusting " Mike says. “Goodbye, Mike.” Eddie fires back, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he slides off the wall, an amused smirk etched across his face.

Eddie turns back to look at you as he stares at you with hunger and lust in his eyes.

" Why are you looking at me, like that?" Eddie’s smirk falters slightly, surprise flickering across his dark gaze.

“Like what?” he shoots back, defensiveness lacing his words, but the edge of tension still crackled between you two.

“Like you’re about to devour me" Eddie leaned closer, the heat of his presence enveloping you as he tilted his head slightly, perplexity mingling with amusement in his eyes. “Maybe I am,” he murmured, his voice dropping low, teasing.

" Eddie.." you warned. Eddie stepped even closer, the air thickening between you like a taut string ready to snap. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Afraid of a little... touch?” His smirk widened, each word laced with mischief.

“ Get your hands away from me" Eddie stepped closer, the space between you a charged battleground. His dark eyes glinted with mischief as he leaned forward, the scent of cigarettes and something inherently Eddie swirling around you.

"Come on, don’t be scared," he says.

" I'm warning you"Eddie leans in closer, just barely brushing against you, the energy between you crackling like electricity. “Warning me? What are you going to do? Call your biker buddies?”

" I know karate" Eddie chuckles, the sound low and teasing, “Karate? You? Sweetheart, I’d pay to see you try.”

“Try me, Munson.” Your voice trembles with defiance; the air between you thickens.

His hand shoots out to brush your hair but before he does, you have hsi wrist in a tight grip. His wrist feels warm under your fingers, solid and unyielding. Eddie raises an eyebrow, surprise flaring in his dark gaze.

" I told you" you challenged. “Damn,” he murmurs, a hint of admiration mixed with amusement dancing in his eyes. The gentle thrill of your defiance makes the corner of his mouth twitch upwards, like a wildfire igniting.

" Let go," he pushes, but with all your strengh you push him towards you looking at him. " I warned you. Back off." Eddie's gaze flickers with a mix of surprise and intrigue. You maintain the pressure, holding his wrist firm, your hearts beating in unison, the space between charged like a live wire.

“Wow,” he breathes. " You're something else, sweetheart." His admiration shoots through the air like a bolt of lightning, striking a nerve deep within. You hold his gaze, a mixture of defiance and thrill bubbling inside you.

" Maybe you should think twice before challenging me"

Eddie hums, smirking.

" Fiesty" Eddie's smirk deepens, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Feisty? That’s rich coming from someone who’s about to get his wrist twisted off,” you challenge.

" You're too cute thinking you can take me down. I'm stronger, older and faster." A sly smile curved your lips, unwavering. “Stronger? Maybe. Older? Definitely. Faster?”

Eddie leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your cheek, a teasing smile barely contained. “I’ve got you there, sweetheart."

You gasp how close he is, scrunching his nose pushing his head away.

" You reek" Eddie flinches back slightly, feigning mock offense, but the gleam in his dark eyes reveals his amusement. “Reek? This is the scent of a rockstar, princess. A scent of a real man, not like Harrington smelling like a laundry basket." You scoff, unable to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. “Right, because we all want to smell like smoke and bad decisions.”

" You like me.." Eddie’s smirk widened, triumph glowing in his eyes. “See? You’re already starting to admit it.”

“Admit what?” You shot back, crossing your arms defensively, though a smile threatened to break your facade.

" You're into me, all of this" he points to himself. You huffed, arms crossed, but frustration battled amusement in your chest.

“Please. This is hardly a fair trade—smoke and tattoos for sunshine and charm,” you retorted, an eyebrow raised defiantly.

" I like my guys bigger and rougher" you add with a smirk.Eddie's laughter rang out, rich and unexpected, filling the air like music. “Is that so? Guess I must be lacking then, huh?” He straightened, feigning disappointment but the glimmer in his eyes danced with mischief.

" Guess so, grandpa" you teased. Eddie feigned a gasp, hand clutching his chest as if wounded. "Grandpa? Wow, that’s harsh. How do you even know I didn’t just fight the Grim Reaper last night for my youth?"

" Because Eddie, you look like you lost a few battles" Eddie feigned a wounded expression, clutching his chest as if you’d delivered a lethal blow. “Lost? I fought the good fight, sweetheart. Just because I came out with a few more scars doesn’t mean I didn’t win.”

" I have deeper scars" you let his wrist go, looking away. Your gaze drifted to the cluttered floor, the assortment of boxes and memories strewn about like fragments of a jigsaw puzzle. Eddie noticed the shift, the flicker of vulnerability creeping back into your eyes.

“ Sweetheart.." Eddie’s voice softened, the bravado slipping away, revealing a glimpse of understanding. He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that felt electric, almost grounding.

“Everyone has scars,” he said, his tone now measured, " but you're alive and here standing arguing with me and bantering, flirting with me." "Alive," you echoed, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. Eyes on the floor, you couldn’t shake the weight of the past.

“Yeah, you are,” he pressed, stepping closer again, the space between you shrinking. He brushes your hair away, " I"m not a bad guy. But I am not going to let you get too close and treat me like I'm not a human being.." Your gaze flicked up to meet his, the intensity of his dark eyes holding you captive.

" You're hiding yourself under the tattooes, the scars you say you have, the cigarettes, the music, all of it. " you tell him.

Eddie’s smirk faltered, his eyes glinting with something deeper, a flicker of vulnerability nestled beneath his typical bravado. “Hiding? Maybe,” he said quietly, the weight of his admission hanging in the air.

" I bet if you cleaned up better, girls will like you" Eddie's brow furrowed, a flash of defensiveness igniting in his eyes. “Girls? Really? You think that’s all it takes?”

" You would get your wrinkyl dick working" you chuckled.Eddie blinked, surprise flaring in his eyes before he burst into laughter, the sound rich and infectious. “Wrinkly dick? That’s a new one. You’re truly creative, Y/N.”

“ I mean your older than me, grandpa" you teased. Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically, able to switch from defensiveness to affected dismay with the flick of a wrist. “Older? Psh, I’m practically timeless. Can’t put a price on experience.”

“ How many times you had sex then?" you asked, " Twice?" Eddie threw his head back, laughter erupting, rich and deep. “Twice? You’re cute, sweetheart.”

“Cute? Wow, thanks for the compliment,” you shot back, crossing your arms. " I know your into me, Munson. That's why your still here.." "Into you, huh?" Eddie leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, a playful smirk curling his lips. “Right, because it’s not total agony standing in the same room as you.”

“ I'd have you fall to your knees and you know it" The tension in the air shifted, electrifying the space between you. Eddie's smirk faltered for just a heartbeat before morphing into a mock challenge, his brow arching as he stepped forward. “You think so, huh? Pretty thing like you think I'm that easy?" “Easy? Hardly. I just think you’re all talk, Munson,” you replied, holding your ground, each word dripping with playful defiance.

" Oh, sweetheart. Don't play this game. Don't" Eddie closed the distance with a bold step, the smirk on his face morphing into something dangerously playful, eyes glimmering with mischief. “You’re really going to challenge me? This game you're playing? Because I play to win and I get it if you scared..."

" I'm not scare of you" Eddie's smirk deepened, a glimmer of mischief lighting his dark eyes. “Is that so? Then why don’t we put your bravado to the test?” He stepped closer, his presence stealing the air between you.

“I think I got it..." you mumble, " You're afraid to fall in love..." you gasped. Eddie’s laughter faded, his expression shifting as the weight of your words settled between you like a heavy blanket. The playful energy morphed into something tenser, more fragile.

“Love?” he echoed, disbelief threading through his voice. “ that's stupid." Eddie scoffed, waving a dismissive hand as if your words were a filthy habit to be brushed away. “Love is just another way of getting yourself hurt.”

" Whatever helps you sleep at night" you shrugged. Eddie’s jaw clenched subtly, a flicker of something softening in his dark eyes. He stepped back, breaking eye contact for a moment, the tension coiling tighter between you like a winding thread ready to snap.

“You think I want the puppy mushy love stuff?" Eddie asked. His voice was a low growl, underlined with an edge of frustration as he ran a hand through his messy hair, careless and wild.

“Love is about connection and understadning-" Eddie cuts you off. " It's bullshit" he says. “Bullshit?” You echoed, incredulous. “You think it’s bullshit to feel something genuine?”

Eddie’s eyes flickered with something unspoken, a fire behind his bravado. “Yeah, because it makes you weak."

" Who hurt you?" You leveled your gaze at him, the question hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

Eddie bristled, his facade cracking just slightly. “What are you? My therapist?” He shoved his hands into his pockets.

" Your parents? Friends? High school crush?" Eddie’s eyes hardened, and he straightened, the carefree demeanor quickly replaced by a guarded shell.

“Does it matter?” he asked, voice low. “Everyone has baggage. I don’t need to unpack mine for you, sweetheart.”

" So it's one of those" you nodded, understanding. “Good to see you get it.” His tone dripped with defiance, but the crack in his armor remained visible—a bittersweet reminder of the façade he wore.

" Do you ever let anyone in?" Eddie’s expression darkened, a mask of defiance shielding whatever fragility simmered beneath. “In? What does that even mean? Letting people in means inviting trouble.”

" Don't you want connection? To be understood?" Eddie’s gaze flickered, uncertainty glinting behind his usual bravado. “You’re painting a pretty picture, sweetheart. But it’s hard to want a connection when everyone around you turns into lies,” he replied, a hint of bitterness.

" You really think everyone is out to get you, Eddie.." Eddie shifted, his expression flickering like shadows in dim light. “Not out to get me, no. But trust issues? I've got ‘em.” He leaned back against the wall, arms crossing tightly over his chest like a fortress under siege.

" Something we both have in common" you started to chip at your nail polish.“Common ground, huh?” Eddie raised an eyebrow, skepticism lacing his voice. “What does that even mean for you? You just moved here, and we barely know each other. What could we possibly share?”

" Music, banter, a good conversation, understanding, a rough past, parents that were shit...." His brow furrowed, surprise painting his features. “So we’re both a couple of misfits, huh? You think that’s enough to build some sort of bond?”

" You're scared to get hurt as much as I am too" Eddie's gaze flickered, something raw threading through his bravado as he stared back at you. “Scared? Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking for some buddy system.”

" I'm not asking for frienship" Eddie’s brow furrowed, a mixture of confusion and intrigue washing over his features. “What then? A fleeting moment? A couple of laughs between two broken souls?” His voice dipped into a lower register, laced with an edge that

" Maybe.. someone to drink with when you can't sleep, someone to sit in silence with.." Eddie's expression softened for a moment, his bravado slipping. “You think I want someone sitting in my silence?” He pushed off the wall, challenging yet inviting.

“Why not?” you replied, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside. “Sometimes silence is louder than words. It can soothe the chaos, even if just for a moment.”

Eddie sighs as he shakes his head, " You don't understand, kid.." The air thickened between you, charged with unspoken truths. Eddie’s gaze hardened like stone, but behind the wall, you caught glimmers of vulnerability.

“Kid? Am I really that young to you?” Your voice dripped with playful sarcasm.

" You have that sparkle in your eye still, you're young... and too young to play with me.." Eddie says as his eyes flash something in them. “Play with you? Is that what this is to you, Munson?” you quirked an eyebrow, folding your arms defiantly. The earlier tension felt like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment.

Eddie chuckles, " I'm not going to end up fucking you.." You scoff, arms folding tighter against your chest, “Is that so? So you think I’m just another notch on your belt, huh?”

Eddie’s smirk loses its edge, the flicker of mischief in his eyes.

" Sweetheart, I have more expirence than you. I know what I'm doing, have you even sucked a cock before?" You scoff, heart racing at the boldness of his question. “And you think that’s all there is to it? Just some stupid experience points?”

“I’m just saying, if you want to play, play smart,” Eddie replies, " and if you don't, then don't waste my time." Your heart thudded, each beat echoing in the charged silence between you. “Waste your time? Is that what this is to you—a game?”

Eddie leaned back against the doorframe, the tension coiling around you both like a plague.

" You're difficult, you know?" He opens the door. The door creaked open, framing Eddie like a chaotic storm on the other side, hair tousled and mouth curling in a teasing smirk, but his eyes glimmered with something deeper—a raw honesty attempting to break through the playful veneer.

“ Are you really not going to let me see you behind the curtain?" Eddie chuckles, " You think there is one?"

" I think you're pretty good at hiding yourself but your too scared of the world and the people that care about you" Eddie's expression hardened, his facade tipping dangerously close to crumbling. "Scared? You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then show me," you challenged, stepping forward, watching as his bravado flickered before your eyes.

" Show me the real Eddie Munson" Eddie hesitated, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features as he weighed your challenge. The charged atmosphere thickened, each heartbeat echoing in the space between you.

He scratches his head, " You don't want to deal with me, sweetheart. " “I might surprise you,” you countered, your tone steady, eyes locked with his, daring him to back down.

" Why do you want to?" He asked. "Because I know there’s more beneath all that bravado," you responded, stepping a little closer, testing the boundaries as the air thickened with anticipation. “Everyone has layers, Eddie. You can’t hide behind attitude and tattoos forever.”

#eddie munson #imagine Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie Munson imagine #jewls writes #older Eddie Munson x you #older Eddie Munson x reader #Older Eddie Munson x y/n

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ineffablesuffering · 1 year ago

Text

Pub Quiz (Crowley X Reader)

*not my gif!*

Warnings: use of alcohol, i think that's it? oh and crowley in a turtleneck - thats a major warning.

Pairing: Crowley x gn!reader.

Word Count: 2,355 (i got a bit carried away writing this whoops)

Note: to the lovely anon that sent me a request; i'm working on it! i see you!

Masterlist

_____________________________________

“Oh, c’mon it will be fun, you never want to do anything fun,” you whine.

“I’m plenty fun,” Crowley said, sipping his whisky. You roll your eyes at him. The Drunken Donkey was hosting a music quiz and you were desperate to go. You had grown up around all sorts of music and back when you were a young teenager discovering the world of ‘decent music’ as your dad had put it, he would test you on your knowledge and it was something you had become quite fond of.

“Please,” you beg, “I’ll buy you a new plant, wash the Bentley, and buy you a drink.”

Crowley let out a sigh and looked down as he swirled the whisky in his glass. It’s not as if he had anything better to do with his time and he was rather fond of spending time with you, not that he’d ever admit that. An uncomfortable, but not unwelcome, feeling pulled on his heart when he looked up at you to see you giving your best puppy dog eyes. “Fine! Fine,” he said exasperatedly, “but don’t complain when I beat you.”

“We’ll see about that,” you say with a cheeky grin.

A few hours later, you were waiting for Crowley to make an appearance outside The Drunken Donkey. You had returned home to get changed into something a bit more appropriate for an evening in the pub, and so it seems had Crowley. He rounded the corner and you had to try to stop your jaw from hanging open. He wore all black, which was nothing new but the turtleneck jumper? Yeah, that was new, and he looked downright sinful.

“Well don’t you scrub up nicely,” you say when he approaches you, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“Not so bad yourself,” he comments with a smirk. Your cheeks flame. “Ready to lose?”

“Oh, you’re so on.”

You both head inside and Crowley heads to find a seat in the busy pub as you approach the bar.

“What can I get for you my lovely,” the woman behind the bar said. You order yourself your favourite drink and a large Talisker for Crowley, before tapping your card and heading off to find him.

“For you,” you say placing down the whisky in front of him. He shoots you a small smile that’s enough to make you clutch your drink a little bit tighter before sitting down opposite him. “So basically, you need to have this app to take part in the quiz, you just put your name in it and then tap the right answer. Simple! Do you need help or are you old enough to do it by yourself?”

“Oh, very funny,” he huffs pulling his phone out and situating himself. “Now remember; no crying when you lose,” he smirks at you. You just look at him as you take a sip from your drink.

“We’ll see about that,” you put your own information into your phone. “Shall we make a bet?”

“A bet with a demon Y/N? That’s a bit risky, even for you.” He gives you a wicked grin and he leans in closer. You can smell his cologne at this proximity, and it makes your palms sweat a little bit. You really do need to sort yourself out.

“Well,” you lean in, not letting the proximity to him make you nervous. “I’m feeling rather confident tonight.”

“Okay then. If I win, you have to buy me a coffee every day for the next two weeks.”

“And if I win, you have to drive me around in the Bentley for two weeks, chauffeur hat and all.” You smile sweetly holding out your hand. He grins and shakes your hand.

“Deal.”

Soon the quiz master is telling you the rules, and you feel a sense of nervousness in your stomach. Maybe this was a bad idea, he did have nearly 6,000 years of experience on you, which is an awful lot of time to listen to music. The quiz master explained that there was to be four rounds; the 1980s, the Naughties, Guess the Next Line and a round specifically dedicated to Queen. Crowley perked up when he heard the last round, he smiled smugly at his phone, thinking he had this in the bag. It would be nice to not have to pay for coffee for two weeks, he thought to himself. He takes a quick glance at you over the top of his sunglasses, seeing you slightly wiggle in your seat. Your nerves, weirdly, gave him a sense of confidence.

“Okay ladies and gents, Round One: The 1980s,” the quiz master starts. The first song plays and within the first second, you’re tapping the answer.

“What?” you say as you look up and see Crowley staring at you slightly open-mouthed.

“How did you know that so quickly? The song barely started!” he points out.

You feel your nerves start to disperse and that sense of confidence washes over you again as you shrug with a smug smile on your face getting ready for the next song. The opening notes to The Look by Roxette play as you tap again within the first few notes of the song. You start to sway along in your seat. You hear Crowley growl as you continue to get the questions right and get them right quickly.

Soon the round comes to an end and the quiz master puts the leaderboard up and you smile smugly at Crowley as you see your name at the top of the board and him close behind in second place.

“What was that about you beating me?” you grin cheekily.

“Shut up,” he grumbles “It’s only round one. Don’t get too cocky.”

You giggle at him; the host announces that they are starting round two. You shoot him a wink before looking back down at your phone getting ready to start. You miss the redness that dusts his cheeks.

After the end of the round, you find yourself at the top of the leaderboard again, but this time Crowley is only a few points behind you and getting closer.

“I’m catching up to you, Y/N,” he says smugly, “You seemed to miss a few songs there, are you slipping?”

“No,” you say confidently. “I just know the 80s better.”

“I see,” he finishes his drink. “Another?” He gestures to your now empty glass. You nod at him before he heads off to the bar. A small smile graces your lips. You rather enjoy spending time with the demon. You love spending time with Aziraphale too, but this was different. Crowley just seemed to get you and your sense of humour. He was kind, although he would never admit it. He once acquired a first edition copy of your favourite book for your birthday one year, but he brushed it off as something that anyone would do. That’s when your feelings towards him started. Something about the gesture was so heartfelt and thoughtful that you couldn’t help but fall just a little bit in love with him. You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed the drink being placed in front of you and Crowley retaking his seat.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, startling you.

“Oh sorry,” your cheeks heat again, a common occurrence around Crowley, “I was just thinking about how I can’t wait to be driven around by you for the next two weeks,” you reply cooly, not letting your thoughts get the best of you. He takes a sip of his drink and leans back in his chair, not quite believing you.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t get too comfortable Y/N,” he smirked at you.

Before you could respond, the quiz master introduced the third round. The round went by smoothly, and you were now tied with Crowley in first place, who had been slowly creeping up behind you as the round went on. You felt yourself becoming more nervous as you went into the Queen round, knowing this is something that Crowley would do well in. It really was anybody's game. The round goes by quickly and before you know it the quiz was over. You look at Crowley and he looks back at you. He seems nervous. The quiz master is soon displaying the final results and you see your name at the top of the leaderboard, one point ahead of Crowley.

“Would you look at that,” you cheer smugly, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Don’t be so juvenile,” he groans at you.

“Don’t be so sour,” you grin at him “Oh I can’t wait to have a personal driver for the next two weeks.”

“You just got lucky.”

You lean over the table, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said giving your face a once over, ever so slightly lingering on your lips.

You lean back in your seat, feeling quite proud of yourself. “You know, I think I should demand one of those special apology dances you make Aziraphale do for you.”

“Absolutely not.” He said, finishing his drink, “I don’t do the dance.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” you bring the last of your drink to your lips with a smirk.

“Shut up,” he huffs, glancing around the still-busy pub, the quiz long forgotten by everyone else in the room. The night was still young and despite him losing to you, he was rather enjoying his evening and didn’t want it to end. His gaze lands back on you as you type out something on your phone. “Do you maybe want to come back to the bookshop for one more?” he asks. He sounded nervous, as if you might reject his offer. “Aziraphale’s in Edinburgh visiting a friend, and I know he’s got some lovely vintage wine hiding somewhere.”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot,” you smile at him, and he smiles back. He stands up and offers you a hand which you take, and you walk down the street to the bookshop.

A few moments later, you were in Aziraphale’s bookshop lounging on his sofa with Crowley. You sat cross-legged facing him, and he had an arm stretched behind the back of the sofa, sunglasses placed on the table by the door. You suggest to Crowley that you should put some music on, he snaps his fingers, and the sounds of Duran Duran filled the air. You smile at him, of course, he knows how much you loved them. It’s just the kind of demon he was, thoughtful, kind, and caring. One glass turns into two as the music continues to play in the background and you talk about this that and everything in between. He tells you tales of Rome and Athens way back when and you watch him talk. He describes everything in such a way that draws you closer to him. His hands waving around as he talks, little drops of wine occasionally falling from the glass that he never thinks to put down. He truly was a sight to behold.

“You’re staring,” he said finally placing his glass down.

“Am I?” you say blinking, you turn your head to the side.

“Hey, I never said I minded,” he said, your attention suddenly back on him. Was he flirting with you? The butterflies returned to your stomach, and you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the way he spoke to you. He stood suddenly; a hand stretched out towards you. “Care to dance?”

You look at his outstretched hand for a beat before a shy smile appears on your face as you gently place your hand onto his. He helps you stand and is quick to pull you close to him. You look at him and he looks at you with a small smile on his face as he snakes a hand around your waist. The music suddenly changes into the soft melody of Spandau Ballet’s True. You giggle and hide your head in his chest. Was this his doing? You look up and find him gazing at you.

“So…” you begin.

“So…”

“This is different,” you smile.

“A good different or a bad different?” he asks twirling you.

“A good different.” You say before falling into a comfortable silence. You lean your head on his shoulder and he leans his on top of yours. The two of you swayed to the music as if you were the only two people on Earth.

“I’m glad you dragged me along tonight,” he says softly, the vibration of his words running over your body.

“I’m glad I convinced you to come, even if it means I need to buy you a plant and wash the Bentley.” You laugh. He chuckles.

“Don’t bother,” he says chuckling as he lifts his head. You move your own to look at him. He really did have the most beautiful eyes.

“I guess you’re right, I did win after all.” You grin at him, removing the hand that was once in his and placing it on his chest giving him a tap, “I’m just that good.” His now free hand now found its way to the side of your face. You tilt your head, confused at the movement. His face had an unreadable expression on it. “Crowley are yo-“

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” he said almost breathlessly, as he pulled you close and kissed you. A beat passes before your eyes flutter closed and you kiss him back, the hand that was once on his chest now cupping his face bringing him even closer to you. He pulls away just enough for him to rest his forehead against yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear him.

“Me too,” you whisper back, “Me too.”

He grins at you before kissing you again, his lips warm and soft against yours. He pulls back, a hand still cupping the side of your face, his thumb rubbing up and down against your jaw. “Would you maybe like to go out on a date sometime?” he asks softly. You nod, a smile wide on your face.

“Yeah, I would.”

#good omens #crowley #david tennant #crowley x reader #david tennant x reader #good omens fanfiction #good omens x reader

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