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#i now have things to laugh over so that's okay
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Lessons in Care
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Pairing: Line Cook!Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel loves you so much. Even though you can't cook. You're trying though.
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: A small injury
a/n: Consider this a small gift to make up for me disappearing for a month <3 This is part of the line cook au, but as I've mentioned, nothing is really in order so read however you want :) The rest of this AU can be found in my masterlist right there ⬇ love you <3
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
“Like this?” You shook the pan a little harder, the handle's weight tweaking your wrist at an odd angle. 
“Almost. Try not to hold your elbow so close to your body. It won’t flip right.” 
You pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes. “This is so hard.” 
“I believe in you,” Azriel teased, an amused upturn of his eyes as he watched you struggle. 
“Why is this pan so heavy? It’s literally like 40 pounds.” 
“It’s cast iron, baby.” 
“That’s stupid.” 
Azriel barked out a laugh, red tinting his cheeks as if he hadn’t expected the sound to leave his lips. Your mouth quirked up in a small smile despite your struggle. You shot your gaze to the side to try and catch the sweet expression that still lingered on Azriel’s face.
“Would you like me to do it?” Azriel posed after clearing his throat. 
“Of course not. I came early so you could teach me.” 
“I could teach you another time. You have class soon.” 
“Why do you want me to fail?” 
“I don’t—” 
“You totally do. You want me unable to cook for myself so I’ll always have to rely on you, and then I’ll never be able to leave you.” 
Azriel laughed again, a quiet, rumbling sound. “You caught me. Now hand that over before you hurt yourself.” 
You groaned and turned slightly to evade your boyfriend’s reach. “Az, I’m serious. Teach me how to flip these stupid eggs right now.” 
“Okay, okay. Just let me help.” 
The feel of Azriel’s hand lightly sliding over yours startled you. You jumped and your fingers twitched, the sudden motion sending the tips of your fingers too far forward until a simmering pain shot through your skin. You flung the pan back on the burner instantly, its contents splattering along the stove and into the open flame. It burned a bright orange and then settled as you held your hand close to your chest. 
You hissed a breath through your teeth and Azriel’s hands were on you. 
“Shit, baby, let me see, yeah?” he stressed, mindlessly turning the burner off without taking his eyes off you. He tugged your hand at your chest with gentle fingers. “Let me see.” 
You released the tight grip on your fingers and rested them in Azriel’s open palm. “I was just surprised. I don’t think it’s that bad.” 
Azriel’s brow furrowed as he examined your burn. He tsked, pulling you gently by your wrist over to the sink. “It’s going to blister.” 
Cool water rushed from the pipes and soothed your skin. Azriel held your wrist in a soft grip and turned your hand slowly, back and forth in a repetitive motion. 
“I don’t think so, Az. It’s not that bad.” 
Azriel shook his head. “That pan was pretty hot—I’d be surprised if it didn’t.” He looked up at you. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 
You offered a gentle smile and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “You didn’t scare me.” You raised your brow playfully. “You just made me nervous. A cute guy like you holding my hand—reaching over to help me to cook. Made me all jumpy.” 
Azriel breathed out a disbelieving scoff. “I’ve done far worse than just hold your hand.” 
“Scandalous!” you proclaimed, affronted. “How can you say such things at work, Azriel? You’ll be fired.” 
“I can only hope,” Azriel grumbled. 
Azriel directed you to keep your hand under the water as he dug through a cabinet for the first-aid kit despite your protests. You truly felt that you were fine and didn’t even need a bandaid, but it was easy to forget the multitude of scars that littered Azriel’s hands and how they contrasted with your completely unmarred skin. 
That was purposeful, meaningful—Azriel worked hard so you wouldn't have to. Azriel found peace in keeping you safe and happy. 
So you let him fuss. 
“Okay, let me see again, baby,” Azriel requested, flipping the water off and reaching for your hand. Your skin stung as it met the air beyond the sink, but Azriel’s caring touch was like a balm. 
He dried your fingers with a towel and uncapped a spray bottle, coating your burn with too much of the medication before grabbing a set of gauze and tape. You stared at the materials in exasperation. Azriel didn’t notice the expression and continued to admisinister care as if you’d been in a fire.
“Az, I love you so much, but I don’t need all of that. It’s a small burn. I’ve probably done worse with my curling iron.” 
Your boyfriend only hummed and continued his work. “I don’t want it to scar. It blistered already.” 
“Yes, but—” 
“Almost done.”
You let him work. A few moments of silence passed. Azriel kept his gaze hard and his brow set in a harsh line. 
That wouldn’t do. 
Once your finger was fully wrapped and protected from everything Azriel could fear, you puckered your lips in contemplation and shook your head. 
“Still hurts really bad,” you admitted, leaning back against the counter. Azriel followed your movements, leaving little space between you. 
“What?” he questioned, a tinge of panic in his tone. “That should’ve numbed it. How bad does it hurt?” 
“Really, really bad. Like my whole hand is on fire, actually.”
Azriel—who had yet to release your fingers—stared down at them in startled befuddlement. He turned them one way and then another as if that would answer his questioning gaze, and then looked back up to meet your eyes in a way that was almost pleading. 
“I’m sorry, maybe I should—”
“You have to kiss it,” you revealed, not wanting the sad expression to linger on his face any longer. “Duh.” 
Azriel let out a breath that bordered on relief, but most of it seemed founded in exasperation. He shook his head and brought your fingers up to his lips all the same, smiling to himself as he began to kiss each of your fingertips. Even the ones that clearly weren’t burnt. He flipped your hand over and kissed the knuckles, too, capturing your eyes as he glanced at you from beneath his lashes. 
“‘M sorry you got hurt,” he mumbled with his lips against the back of your hand. “Told you you shouldn’t try cooking, baby.” 
The warm feeling that had begun to seep into your chest paled in comparison to the offended scoff that echoed in the empty kitchen. Azriel’s poorly concealed, devious smile was hidden in the kisses he started pressing into your palm, and although it would have fit the sound you let out, you didn’t pull away. 
“Azriel, you are just asking for me to—” 
“The hell is going on in here?” The kitchen door smacked against the frame as Cassian made his entrance. “Someone get hurt?” 
Azriel dropped your hand just as soon as Cassian had spotted him pressed against you, clearing his throat and turning to the disheveled first-aid kit on the counter. You brought your knuckles up to your mouth to hide your laugh at Azriel’s expense, his face flushing in vulnerability. 
“Oh, I see what was going on. You were romancing your girl, weren’t you, Az? Well, don’t let me interrupt. You came in early and everything,” Cassian teased, his hands raised in surrender. 
“We were just finishing up,” you countered, a laugh trickling through. “I have to get to class, Cass. You can start your shift.” 
“Uh huh,” Cassian smiled, raising his brows and then lowering them when he caught your hand reaching for your backpack. “You okay?” 
“She’s fine,” Azriel interrupted. He took your bag from you and slung it over his shoulder, pressing a nonchalant kiss to your head that you knew was actually not nonchalant. “I’m going to take her to school. Cover for me for 20?” 
“Sure, man.” 
“Az, I was going to take the bus you don’t have to—” 
“C’mon, baby.” 
“But I don’t even have my helmet for your bike.”
“I always bring your helmet.”
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luveline · 1 day
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hii can you please write about Hotch adoring the reader at night as she's sleep talking sweet things please please?? love you!
The first thing he does when he gets home that night is pop his head into Jack’s room. He wants to go in and kiss his forehead, or maybe hold his hand, but he’s worried he’ll wake him and it’s nearing three in the morning, so he whispers, “Love you,” and heads to the master bedroom. 
You’re sleeping not dissimilar to Jack, on your back, the sheets pulled up to your turned head. Aaron moves away from you reluctantly to get undressed and change into soft sleep clothes. He cleans his face and brushes his teeth, and when he returns to you, you’ve curled your arm over where he should be as though you’d sensed his homecoming. 
He shuffles to you in the dark. Pulls back the sheets, and slides under your arm. He finds your hand to hold and brings it slowly to his lips, letting your hand rest over his mouth indulgently. 
He closes his eyes.
After a short case like this one, he isn’t tired enough to forget how much he misses you. If it had been a week away, Aaron would’ve come home and collapsed knowing he’s back with you, and that you’re going to look after him, but it’s only been two days. All he needs now is a kiss.
“Miss you.” 
He clasps his hand over yours, takes your hand to his chest to see you without obstacle. “I missed you, too,” he whispers, though he squints at you after. You aren’t facing him. “Honey?” 
“Aaron…” 
“Yeah, it’s me. You okay?” 
You rub your nose into your pillow and make a nonsense sound. 
Oh, he thinks to himself. Is she…
“D’you– did you have dinner?” 
“Are you awake or not?” he asks. 
No answer. You can’t be awake, then. You’re talking in your sleep, silly disjointed murmurings, your voice like velvet despite the late hour. 
Aaron hasn’t woken you with his questions, so he assumes you’re sleeping deeply. He shuffles further into the bed, onto his side, and wraps an arm around you. Careful in the dark, his nose comes to rest against your cheek.
“Well, we can try again tomorrow.”
“Shh,” he says softly, “shh, honey.” 
“‘Cos of the time,” you mumble.
He breathes in your skin. This is nice, he supposes, sitting and listening to your voice. You don’t even have to wake up. Aaron must spend half an hour listening to you talk yourself, or whoever it is that’s opposite you in the dream. It’s okay, we can fix it. I don’t know what colour that is. It’s Jack’s book. The book. And then your dog will come home. 
He’s nearly sleeping when it runs back to him. “My hubs,” you mumble, hand suddenly alive where it twists under his arm to return his hug. “Miss my hubs.” 
Aaron laughs in earnest. He’s never heard you call him such a thing. “Missed my wife,” he says, giving your cheek a quick kiss. “Love you.” 
“Miss him… want him to rub my back.” 
Your whining is adorable. Aaron pulls you bodily onto his chest and begins to rub your back, smiling, happy to indulge your sleepy nonsense with whatever it is you’re craving. “How’s that?” he murmurs. 
You don’t talk again for a while, but when you do, you say, “He needs to feed the fish,” and Aaron’s left wondering what exactly it is that you and Jack have been up to this weekend. 
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 days
Note
Hello, hope you're a having a good day
Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu
Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.
So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning
Word Count: 2.4k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John "Soap" MacTavish
“Come on. Come at me.”
Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.
Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.
Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.
Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.
Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.
You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.
“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.
It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.
This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.
Fucking beautiful.
Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.
“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”
With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.
You’re completely trapped beneath him.
And in a completely inappropriate position.
From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.
Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.
“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.
“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.
The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.
“Soap—”
His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”
“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.
The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.
Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.
Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.
One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.
“You—”
“Are we interrupting something?”
You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.
Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.
You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.
But Johnny’s has.
With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.
“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.
The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.
Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.
“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.
“Hate me that much?” he teases.
“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”
Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.
“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”
He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.
Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.
Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.
You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.
As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.
You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.
Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.
“You’re improving,” he says.
“I have a good teacher.”
Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.
He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.
Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.
“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”
His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.
John Price
Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.
"Again."
Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."
"And you need practice," counters Price.
He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.
Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.
Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.
You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.
Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.
"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."
Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.
"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.
That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.
Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.
"You need to do better-"
"Captain."
Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.
"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."
Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.
"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.
"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.
"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."
Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.
“What?" you snap
"Pointers," he repeats.
"Oh, fuck off, Simon."
He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
"Your posture is terrible."
"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.
"Are you sassing me?"
"No."
Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”
“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”
“What was that?”
You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”
Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."
You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.
"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."
You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.
"Again,” nods Simon.
"Really?"
Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.
Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."
"What way?"
“Grab your knife and find out.”
Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.
Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.
Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.
"Again,” he growls.
Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.
"Again."
Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.
This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.
"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."
You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.
Awareness settles in.
Simon is all hardness over you.
"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.
His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.
“I have one,” he murmurs.
Bet I can guess.
“How do you want it?” he continues.
"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.
It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.
There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.
Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.
It's only a tease. You want the real thing.
"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.
Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.
That one. Got it.
“We should—”
A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.
“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.
He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”
You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”
Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”
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itneverendshere · 1 day
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ex!reader who loves the game and wants to support her team but hockey captain!rafe is on the ice. he thinks she’s there for him but when she comes in with a date? and when they get put on the kiss cam? rafe slams into the glass to scare them? hate sex????
someone who lets you break them twice - hockey!toxic!rafe x ex!reader (+18)
warnings: veryyy long and 99% smut🙂‍↕️ the things i do for you...
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The cold air inside the rink always made your skin tingle. Your breath curled in front of you like smoke as you moved uncomfortably on the bleachers, pulling your jacket tighter around you. This is why you hated fall. It was too cold to be outside, too early to be winter. But tonight wasn’t about the weather—it was about hockey.
Hockey and, well, the fact that you hadn’t missed a game since… well, since Rafe and you broke up.
“Everything okay?” The voice beside you pulled you back to reality.
Elijah, the guy you’d been seeing for the past couple of weeks, smiled at you, oblivious to the bullshit taking over your mind, and you gave him your best smile back.
“Yeah, just cold,” you said, trying to focus. You weren’t here for Rafe, not anymore. You loved hockey. You loved watching the boys skate across the ice, their power and grace.
Or at least that was what you kept telling yourself.
Elijah wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him, and you leaned in, feeling his warmth. The game was just about to start, and the arena lights dimmed slightly, casting shadows over the rink. The roar of the crowd drowned your thoughts for a moment as the players took the ice.
And then, as if the universe was personally trying to screw with you, you saw him.
Rafe.
Of course, he looked good.
God, why did he always have to look so fucking good? His broad shoulders filling out his number 17 jersey, that stupid confident smirk as he skated out with the rest of the team. His dark blonde hair peeked out from under his helmet He was captain this year, and it made sense—he’d been working his ass off since…ever. You couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than him. 
He always had to be in charge, on and off the ice.
He still had that same cocky swagger that made you wanna scream… for entirely different reasons now.
You knew better than to be here, yet somehow you ended up courtside anyway. Probably because you’d never let him run you out of your favorite game. Not even if he was captain now. This was your team, the one you’d been coming to see since before Rafe even knew what a slapshot was.
You sank further into Elijah’s side, forcing your eyes away from your ex. But it wasn’t until you caught the dark blue of the jersey you were wearing in the corner of your eye that you realized… You’d put on Rafe’s jersey. 
His number. The one you’d always worn to support him when you were together. Out of all the team merch you owned, of course you had to wear his.
“You really like hockey a lot, huh?” Elijah asked, glancing down at your jersey.
“Yeah,” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’ve been following the team for a while.”
Lies. You loved hockey, sure. But you loved Rafe a little more. Or, you used to. Or, well, maybe that was still complicated.
The puck dropped, and the game started. For a while, you tried to focus on the action. Rafe was all over the ice, playing like the goddamn superstar he thought he was. You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze kept darting up toward the stands, like he knew you were there. And maybe he did
Halfway through the second period, he slammed into an opposing player, sending him crashing into the boards. The sound echoed through the arena, and the crowd went wild, but you could feel your stomach knotting up. That had always been Rafe—intense, aggressive, unable to hold back. On the ice or off.
You tried to focus on Elijah, laughing at something he was saying, but your heart wasn’t in it. And then, just when you thought you’d survived the worst of it, the kiss cam flashed up on the big screen. Your laughter died in your throat as you realized what was happening, your face heating up instantly. You weren’t exactly embarrassed, but this was... awkward. 
“Aw, how cute,” He said, grinning as he pointed to the screen.
You followed his gaze, heart dropping. They were zooming in on the two of you. You could feel the crowd around you start to cheer and whistle as Elijah leaned in closer, clearly getting ready to kiss you.
You could see him coming toward you, could see his lips getting closer, but all you could think about was—
Bang!
In the span of a second, a body slammed into the boards right in front you, the sound so loud it made you jump. The entire section gasped, and you turned your head just in time to see Rafe standing there, glaring up at you from behind the glass. His eyes were locked on you, jaw clenched.
He looked like he was ready to tear Elijah apart, or you, or both of you. His chest was heaving, eyes blazing, standing mere inches away from where you sat. He had skated right into the glass.
Your heart was practically in your throat, and it wasn't from Elijah being close. The look on Rafe’s face as he stood on the other side of the glass?
That was what had your pulse racing. You could barely focus on Elijah anymore. The way he laughed, oblivious, made your stomach churn because Rafe—Rafe—was staring like he owned you. He always had this way of making you feel like no matter what, no matter who else was around, you were his. 
And you hated that you still kind of liked it.
Then, still staring at you, he mouthed the words, "I dare you."
Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?
Those stupid words. Silently mouthed, but somehow loud enough to hit you like a punch through the glass. I dare you. God, what was wrong with him? He knew exactly how to push your buttons. And of course, it was working. He wasn’t just playing hockey—he was playing with you.
You could feel Elijah shifting next to you, still oblivious to the whole freaking drama unfolding right in front of him.
He was so sweet, too sweet, and it was almost infuriating right now because Rafe was standing there, with his stupid intense eyes, all but daring you to move on. Why did he have to look at you like that—like he knew you were still his.
The breakup had been brutal, the kind of messy, loud explosion where neither of you were willing to be the first to walk away. You were both too stubborn, too prideful. And now here you were, months later, still dealing with the fallout. 
Elijah finally leaned in, lips brushing yours, and you kissed him, but your heart wasn’t in it. All you could feel was Rafe’s stare burning into you. The kiss cam lingered for a few seconds, and the crowd cheered, but all you felt was... empty.
When the kiss ended, you forced a smile at Elijah, but your mind was a mess. Rafe’s eyes were still on you, and you could practically feel anger radiating off him, even through the thick glass.
You glanced down, avoiding his gaze, and tugged at the hem of his old jersey, suddenly feeling like you didn’t belong in it anymore. You leaned into Elijah, mostly out of spite at this point. You could practically hear Rafe’s teeth grinding from across the glass. Good. If he thought he could just walk around, acting like he owned the place—and you—then he deserved to stew in it a little.
But, of course, he wasn’t the kind of guy to just let something like that go. You watched as he skated back into play, but his eyes kept flicking up to where you sat, like he couldn’t stop checking to make sure you were still there. Still with Elijah. His shoulders were tense, movements a little too aggressive, like he was about to snap.
You tried to focus on the game again, but your mind kept drifting back to him. You hated this. You hated that he could still make you feel this way, even now, after everything.
After the fights, after the breakup, after swearing you were over him. Why was it so hard to let him go?
The third period started, and Rafe was everywhere, throwing his weight around like he had something to prove. And maybe he did. Every hit was harder, every pass sharper. It was like he was playing angry. And you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied, knowing you’d gotten under his skin.
But then, with less than five minutes left in the game, things escalated. He slammed into one of the opposing players so hard that the guy went down, and the whistle blew immediately. The crowd was roaring, but Rafe didn’t back off. He stood over the guy, glaring down at him like he was ready to throw a punch.
"Jesus," Elijah muttered beside you. "What the hell’s his problem?"
You didn’t answer. You knew exactly what his problem was.
The ref skated over, shouting something at Rafe, but his eyes weren’t on the ref. They were still on you, even as the other guy on the ice slowly got back to his feet. The arena was buzzing, the crowd getting rowdy, and for a second, you thought Rafe was going to lose it right there. His fists clenched, jaw set—he looked like he was ready to drop gloves and start swinging.
And then he smirked.
It was that same cocky smirk you knew so well, the one he always flashed right before doing something reckless. The ref sent him to the penalty box, and he skated off, still with that fucking look plastered on his face. Your heart was racing, your body tense. Elijah had leaned back in his seat, totally unaware about everything.
“Man, that guy’s intense,” Elijah said, shaking his head, eyes still on the ice.
You didn’t answer. Intense didn’t even begin to cover it.
Rafe was sitting in the penalty box now, helmet off, running a hand through his hair like he didn’t just about murder a guy on the ice. You could feel his eyes on you, even from all the way across the rink. You hated it. You hated that he could still get to you like this.
The last few minutes of the game passed in an instant. You weren’t really paying attention anymore, not to the score, not to the plays. You were too busy trying not to think about Rafe, about the way he had looked at you. About the way it had made you feel.
When the final buzzer sounded, the crowd erupted in cheers. Elijah stood up, stretching, turning to you with a smile.
“Ready to head out?” he asked.
You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”
As you made your way toward the exit, weaving through the crowd, you could feel the tension building in your chest. It wasn’t over. It never really was with Rafe.
And you knew—somehow—you weren’t getting out of here without seeing him again.
You reached the bottom of the stands, where a crowd had gathered near the exit. Elijah was still chatting about the game, still clueless. But you were distracted, scanning the crowd without even realizing it.
And then you saw him. Of course, you did.
Rafe was leaning against the wall, still in his gear, helmet tucked under his arm. His eyes locked on yours the second you stepped into his line of sight. He didn’t even pretend to care about the people around him—his gaze was dark, intense, like a predator waiting for its moment.
You hated how your heart skipped.
Elijah noticed you freeze and followed your gaze, his smile faltering when he saw Rafe standing there.
"Isn’t that the captain guy?" he asked, glancing between you and Rafe, confused.
You swallowed hard, forcing your feet to keep moving. “Yeah. That’s him.”
As you passed by, Rafe pushed off the wall, stepping right into your path. Elijah, sweet, unsuspecting Elijah, paused beside you.
"Leaving already?" Rafe’s voice was low, casual, but his eyes were locked on yours, ignoring Elijah completely. "Didn’t even stick around to congratulate the team?"
You clenched your jaw, fighting to keep your cool. "It’s late, Rafe. We’re heading out."
But he wasn’t letting you off that easy. He took a step closer, his towering frame making Elijah shift uncomfortably. "You didn’t used to leave so soon," he said, voice dripping with that familiar cockiness. "Used to be the last one out."
Because you’d always let him fuck you in the locker room.
Elijah cleared his throat, trying to stand his ground. "Uh, yeah, we’ve got plans after this."
Rafe’s eyes flicked to him for the briefest second, before landing back on you.
"Plans, huh?"
Your pulse was hammering, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Why did he always have to do this—why couldn’t he just let you go?
“Rafe, we’re done,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to hold on to the last shred of your composure. “You don’t get to pull this shit anymore.”
He glanced at Elijah briefly, his gaze cold and dismissive, then back at you. “You sure about that?” he asked, “Because it doesn’t look like it.”
You clenched your fists, nails biting into your palms as you tried to calm yourself. You didn’t need this right now. Not with Elijah here. Not after everything.
“Let’s go Elijah,” you said, tugging at Elijah’s arm, desperate to get out of there before things escalated. But Rafe wasn’t having it.
He stepped in front of you again, blocking your path like he had some kind of claim on you. And God, the worst part was—you weren’t sure he was wrong.
You glanced at Elijah, who was staring at the two of you like he had walked into the middle of a conversation he couldn’t quite follow. “Look, dude,” he started, awkwardly laughing, “I don’t know what this is, but—”
“It’s nothing,” you cut him off quickly, your voice tight. “Let’s just go.”
But Rafe wasn’t about to let it go. 
“Yeah, Elijah,” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “It’s nothing.” His eyes flicked to you, dark and daring, and before you could stop yourself, you met his gaze with the same fire.
Elijah’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out, frowning.
“Shit,” he muttered, distracted. “I’ve gotta take this call real quick. Give me a sec?” He stepped away, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the middle of the hallway, your body practically vibrating.
He was on you in an instant, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the locker room door. 
“Rafe, what the fuck—” you hissed, but he wasn’t letting go.
You tried to resist, but something inside you broke down—the anger, the unresolved pull between you two. And maybe it was the way he still had that stupid hold on you, the way your body responded when you shouldn’t want it to.
Or maybe it was the fact that you’d never fully closed the door on Rafe.
He shoved the door open, pulling you inside the dimly lit hallway that led to the locker room. The second the door closed, you spun around, shoving him in the chest hard. 
“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?”
Rafe barely flinched, his gaze smoldering as he crowded you against the wall. 
“Yeah? You didn’t seem to think so when you were wearing my jersey tonight.”
“That was an accident.”
“Bullshit,” he growled, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Bringing a date with you. Do you want me to kill someone?"
Your heart was pounding, and not just because Rafe had you pinned against the wall like he always fucking did— God, why did he have to be so damn close? The scent of his cologne mixed with the sweat from the game, sending your mind spiraling. He was overwhelming, and you hated it. You hated him for still making you feel like this.
“Get off me,” you snapped, but it came out weaker than you intended. The way his blue eyes were boring into yours, like he could see through all your bullshit, wasn’t helping.
Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew.
“C’mon, baby, don’t act like this wasn’t what you wanted. You show up, wearin’ my number, sitting there with some random guy like I don’t still own you.” 
He stepped closer, caging you in completely. You pressed your hands against his chest, but it wasn’t like you were really pushing him away. And he knew it.
“You don’t own shit,” you spat, glaring up at him. But even as the words left your mouth, you knew you didn’t believe them. The truth was, part of you had always been his.
Rafe’s lips curved into a smug grin as if he could read every thought running through your head.
“Really? ’Cause from where I’m standin’, you’ve been thinkin’ about me all night.” His breath was hot on your skin, and you hated how much you wanted to close the distance between you.
Your jaw clenched as you tried to muster the strength to tell him to fuck off, to leave you alone, but he was right. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, he was still in your head, under your skin. The way his body hovered over yours—it was like nothing had changed. Like you hadn’t spent the last few months trying to forget him.
His hand found your hip, fingers pressing into your skin through your jeans, and you felt your body betray you. You cursed yourself silently as heat pooled low in your stomach. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, didn’t want him to know how much power he still had. But damn it, he knew. He always fucking knew.
“I hate you,” you muttered. It was a weak defense, and you both knew it.
Rafe leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp that made your knees weak. “Funny, you never sound like you hate me when you’re under me.”
Your breath hitched, and you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.
“Don’t—”
But he was already kissing you, hard and rough like he owned you, like you were his and his alone.
And the worst part? You kissed him back. His hands were on you, grabbing at your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. You wanted to shove him away, to slap that stupid look off his face—but your body had other plans. 
This was so wrong, on so many levels. 
You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Rafe didn’t back off. He was staring down at you like you were his next meal, like he’d been starving without you.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” you bit out, trying to cling to some sense of control.
Rafe’s grin widened, wicked and knowing. He leaned in again, lips ghosting over yours. “We both know that's a lie.”
You clenched your fists, frustrated beyond belief. Frustrated at him, at yourself, at how easy it was for him to pull you right back in.
“Fuck you,” you hissed, but the breathless tone in your voice told a different story.
Rafe’s eyes darkened, the corner of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly sexy way he always did.
“Oh, you will.”
And God help you—you knew he was right. That fucking arrogance. It crawled under your skin, set your blood on fire in ways it shouldn’t.
You wanted to punch him, shove him, do something to wipe that smug expression off his face. But instead, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him back toward you, kissing him with all the fury you felt.
His lips crushed against yours, and it wasn’t gentle—there was nothing soft or sweet about this. It was all heat and frustration, months of unresolved anger bursting out in one chaotic, messy kiss.
His tongue slipped past your lips, and you bit down, hard, just to remind him you weren’t going to make this easy. He groaned, low and rough, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark. "You always did like it rough."
Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you yanked him down, kissing him like you needed to get all of this out of your system. His hands roamed your body, possessive, rough, and you hated how much you craved him, like you were still his.
You weren’t his. You couldn’t be.
But every heated breath you took, every desperate movement your body made, was telling you otherwise.
When his lips moved down your neck, teeth grazing your skin, you gasped, tilting your head back as your resolve crumbled to pieces. He knew exactly what to do, how to make you fall apart, and it pissed you off that he still had that power.
His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you with ease, pressing you harder against the wall. Your breath hitched, the cold tile behind you making you gasp. His mouth was on you, hot and demanding, and for a moment, it was like nothing else mattered.
Not Elijah, not the fact that this was so damn wrong, not the months of hurt and anger you’d been holding onto.
There was only Rafe. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you like he was trying to stake his claim all over again. Like you hadn’t been apart at all.
"Tell me you don’t want this," Rafe muttered against your lips.
You bit down on your lip, trying to stop the words from spilling out. You did want this. You hated that you did, but fuck, you couldn’t lie—not to him, not to yourself.
“I—” You choked on the words, eyes meeting his, and for a split second, you thought maybe you’d find some kind of resolve, some way to pull yourself back from him.
But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his mouth capturing yours again in a kiss so raw, it was borderline filthy. And that was it. Your last piece of control vanished, and you were lost in him all over again.
“Fuck,” you gasped, head spinning as his hands explored your body like he had every right to. Like you hadn’t spent months trying to break free of him.
Rafe pulled back just enough to smirk down at you, breathless and flushed. “Yeah, baby. That's what I thought."
His hands gripped your ass hard enough to leave bruises, you let out a frustrated, muffled groan, your fingers still tangled in his hair. It was a lot longer than the last time you’d seen him.
You could feel every inch of his muscle through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was suffocating in the best way, and you hated yourself for how much you wanted it.
How much you wanted him.
“You’re such an ass,” you gasped between kisses, your breath hitching when his mouth moved down to your neck. You felt him grin against your skin, the bastard.
“You say that like it’s supposed to stop you.” His voice was rough, low in your ear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “But I don’t think it is.”
You were about to fire back, but his hands slid under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, and whatever you were going to say was swallowed by the heat rushing through you. You hated that he still knew exactly how to get to you—how to pull you apart and leave you helpless against him.
“Rafe, this—” Your words were cut off when he bit down gently on your collarbone, sending a shockwave through your body. You clutched at his shirt.
“This what?” he taunted, pulling back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes intense. “This a mistake? Because I don’t think that’s what your body’s saying.”
You just glared up at him, trying to catch your breath. You hated that he was right. Again.
Always.
“I told you,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky, “this doesn’t mean anything.”
Rafe’s grip on you tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “You’re still here, aren’t you?”
Your heart was racing, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. There was no denying it—you were here, and you weren’t leaving. Not yet.
Maybe not for a while.
And Rafe knew it.
His hands moved lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your jeans, and your breath hitched. This was dangerous territory. You knew that. 
“Last chance,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. “You want me to stop?”
You should’ve said yes. You should’ve shoved him away and walked out of there with what little dignity you had left. But instead, you kissed him again—harder this time, angrier, like you needed to prove something to yourself. And maybe you did.
He yanked your shirt over your head in one rough motion, and you weren’t gentle either, tugging at his jersey until it was off and tossed aside. His hands were everywhere—on your back, in your hair, slipping under the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down with the same reckless urgency you’d been feeling since you laid eyes on him tonight.
“I hate you,” you whispered as your nails dragged down his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake.
Rafe just laughed, “No, you don’t,” he growled, his hands grabbing your hips as he settled you onto one of the locker room benches. “But keep telling yourself that.”
Your jeans hit the floor, and he wasted no time, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing you down on the bench, his body heavy against yours.
Everything was messy, and rushed, like neither of you could get enough. Like you were trying to erase the months of distance, of frustration, in the way you kissed him back, bit his lip, tugged at his hair.
 You hated how much you needed this. 
“Still think this doesn’t mean anything?” Rafe rasped, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead against yours, breathless and wild.
You could barely think, let alone speak, but somehow, you managed to gasp out, “Positive.”
Rafe’s mouth moved down your neck, biting and sucking, leaving marks you knew would still be there tomorrow. “You’re such a fucking liar.”
It was wrong, it was toxic, but fuck—there was something about the way he touched you. And body, traitorous and weak, responded like it always had.
You were furious with yourself, with him, with everything, but the anger only made it all hotter, more intense.
His fingers brushed against the seam of your panties, teasing, barely touching you, but doing enough to have you drenched. 
“You’re soaked,” he murmured, almost amused, slipping one finger under the fabric to run along your folds, barely dipping inside before pulling back out, "Was this all for Elijah?"
Sonofabitch.
“Stop talking,” you spat, but your voice was shaky, showing him the way you were falling apart under his touch. Rafe chuckled low in his throat, his finger moving back, this time slipping inside you, deep and slow.
You gasped, your head falling back as he began moving his finger, curling it inside you in just the right way. Your body responded immediately, hips jerking against him, desperate for more, but he took his time. He added another finger, stretching you out as his thumb rubbed slow circles over your clit, making your legs tremble beneath him.
He sped up, his fingers thrusting deeper, faster, hitting that spot inside you that made your mind go blank. “You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? All those nights pretending you don’t think about me, but look at you now.”
Your nails dug into his shoulders, legs shaking as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, his fingers driving you closer and closer to the orgasm you so desperately needed.
His thumb pressed harder against your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you. “Tell me how bad you need this.”
“Rafe—” you gasped, your hips bucking wildly against his hand. The tension inside you was coiled so tightly, so close to snapping. You hated him, hated yourself, but the words slipped out anyway. “I need it.”
He groaned, pleased, and that was all it took. He thrust his fingers harder, faster, until your body gave in completely. You hadn’t had a proper orgasm in months. Nothing could get you off properly. Your walls clenched around his fingers the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your nails leaving half-moon marks in his skin as you trembled beneath him, lost in the sensation.
But he didn’t stop. He slowed down just enough to draw out every last bit of pleasure, his fingers still moving inside you as you rode out the aftershocks. When you finally caught your breath, he pulled his fingers out, his hand moving to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
He shoved his pants down, not bothering to take them off completely, just enough to free himself. Your breath hitched when you felt him against you—hard, hot, and ready—and every rational thought you had left disappeared in that moment. He lined himself up, teasing you just enough to drive you crazy.
Before you could respond, he pushed into you in one hard, deliberate thrust. Your gasp turned into a low, breathless moan as your back arched, your hands gripping his shoulders for something to hold on to. The sensation of him stretching you, filling you, was overwhelming, almost too much, but exactly what you needed.
Rafe didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled back and slammed into you again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless, gasping for air. 
There was nothing gentle about it, nothing tender.
His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you like he was trying to remind you who you belonged to.
And you hated how good it felt.
“You’re mine,” Rafe growled, his voice rough as he thrust into you, each movement deep and brutal.“Doesn’t matter who you’re with, doesn’t matter how much you try to deny it—you’ll always come back to me.”
“Shut up,” you hissed, but your body was betraying you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. 
He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this every night since we ended.”
You couldn’t.
The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, but instead, a moan escaped your lips as he hit that perfect spot inside you. Your body arched against his, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.
“Fuck,” you gasped, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure built, every nerve in your body on fire.
“That’s what I thought,” Rafe growled, his pace quickening, the force of his thrusts making the bench creak beneath you.
The sound of the bench, the way his body pressed into yours so perfectly, the heat of his breath against your neck—it all made it impossible to think straight. You should have been disgusted with yourself for letting it get this far, for letting him have this kind of control over you. 
“I fucking hate you,” you managed to gasp out between breaths.
Rafe chuckled, “Yeah? Then why do you sound like that, huh?” His voice was taunting, filled with the arrogance you hated, “This pussy still mine, huh?”
You loved the way he grabbed you like you were his, even though you’d sworn, sworn, you were done with him.
You were still in love, weren’t you? Even after all the shit, all the screaming matches, the nights spent crying because of him. That was the part that pissed you off the most.
Before you knew, his hands were flipping you over so fast your knees hit the bench before you could react.
“Rafe—mmh,” you gasped, but your words died in your throat when he shoved you forward, pressing your chest flat against the cold wood of the bench. You barely had a second to brace yourself before his hands were gripping your ass, spreading you open for him.
He didn’t give you time to catch your breath. He was already dragging the head of his cock through your wetness, teasing, knowing how much you wanted it, even if you wouldn’t say it.
You squirmed, hating how desperate you felt, hating how your body responded to him like this. “Fuck, Rafe, stop teasing—”
“You want more?” he cut you off, voice dark and dripping with arrogance. He slapped your ass, just enough to sting, and you yelped, your back arching instinctively. “You’re gonna have to beg for it.”
"Like hell," you spat back.
He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth right by your ear.
 “You can act tough all you want, but I know how much you want this,” he gritted out, his cock sliding against your folds again, torturously slow. “I know how much you need it.”
Before you could snap back, he thrust into you hard, filling you completely in one brutal stroke. You cried out, hands gripping the edges of the bench, and Rafe didn’t even give you a second to adjust. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in, faster this time, deeper.
The angle had you seeing stars. The bench was narrow, forcing your legs closer together, making everything tighter, more intense. You couldn’t stop the way your body responded to him, hips moving back to meet his thrusts even though your mind was screaming at you to get a grip.
His hands gripped the fat of your ass, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your moans and his ragged breathing.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” Rafe groaned, his voice low and rough as he thrust into you, each movement hitting that perfect spot inside you, making your legs tremble. “So fucking tight for me.”
He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that had you on the edge in seconds. You couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from your throat, your hips bucking wildly against him as the pleasure built, higher and higher until you felt like you might break apart.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” He rasped, his voice thick with lust. “I can feel it. Fuck.”
You tried to hold on, tried to keep some control, but it was useless. He knew exactly how to break you.
“I’m gonna come,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whimper as you felt the pleasure rising fast, threatening to consume you.
“Do it,” Rafe growled, his fingers rubbing harder, faster. “Come for me, baby.”
And you did.
Your orgasm crashed over you so hard your vision blurred, your body shaking as the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your walls clenching around him, and Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through it, relentless, brutal, until your entire body was trembling.
But he wasn’t done.
He pulled out suddenly, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked you up, turning you around. You barely had time to register what was happening before he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold locker. His cock was back inside you in seconds, filling you again, and you moaned, the new angle sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated pussy.
He pounded into you, his grip on your ass bruising, and you clung to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he fucked you against the lockers. The sound of metal creaking under the force of his thrusts only made it hotter, more desperate. You could feel another orgasm building, and you hated him for it—hated how easily he could pull them from you. 
“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. “You’ll always be mine.”
And you hated that some twisted part of you wanted it to be true.
Your legs tightened around him, pulling him impossibly closer, deeper, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.
And God, you couldn’t.
His grip on your ass was rough, bruising, but it only made you moan louder. You were on the verge again—your body still tingling from the last orgasm, but the way he moved inside you, the way his teeth grazed your neck, it had you spiraling toward another one, faster than you thought possible.
“Look at you,” Rafe groaned, lifting his head just enough to lock eyes with you. His pupils were blown wide with lust, a wild look on his face that sent a thrill down your spine. “Fuck, you love this, don’t you?”
You did. Because no matter how much you hated him, how much you wanted to hate him—there was a part of you that still belonged to him. A part of you that couldn’t walk away.
His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your collarbone, your jaw—and you couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your throat as he kept driving into you.
“Say it,” he growled, “Say you’re mine.”
You bit down on your lip, trying to hold it in, trying to fight back, but every nerve in your body was betraying you. The way his body fit against yours, the way he moved inside you, it was all too much. You were coming again, and you hated it.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and wild. “Say it.”
You wanted to spit in his face. But your body was telling a different story, hips bucking against him, legs tightening around his waist again.
“R-Rafe,” you whimpered, hating how weak you sounded, how desperate.
His smirk was infuriating, but fuck, it was hot.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his pace quickening, each thrust deeper than the last. “You’re mine. Always have been.”
And then he slammed into you one last time, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and the orgasm tore through you, leaving you gasping and trembling in his arms. You cried out, head thrown back against the lockers as your body shook with the force of it, your nails raking down his back.
Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he rode out your orgasm, his movements growing sloppier, more erratic. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, his hips jerking against yours as he finally let go, his release hitting hard. You felt the warmth of him spill inside you, as he held you against him, buried deep.
The second his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened, reality came crashing back in. 
What the fuck had you done?
You pushed at his chest, trying to put some space between you, but he wasn’t letting go that easily. His arms stayed wrapped around you, his body pressed against yours like he still had something to prove.
“Get off,” you muttered, your voice weak, but sharper than before.
He chuckled, that low, arrogant sound that drove you crazy. “That’s not what you were saying five minutes ago.”
You shot him a glare, shoving at his chest again, harder this time. “I’m serious, Rafe. Move.”
Reluctantly, he let go, stepping back just enough for you to slide off the locker and onto shaky legs. You stumbled a bit, and Rafe’s hand shot out to steady you, but you jerked away from him, pulling your jeans back up with shaky hands.
He leaned against the locker, smirking like he hadn’t just torn your world apart all over again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
You wanted to scream at him, to throw something at his face. But instead, you grabbed your shirt off the floor, yanking it over your head as you tried to steady your breath.
“Good luck finding your date.”
Elijah. You’d come to the game with Elijah.
You shook your head as you zipped up your jeans and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to look somewhat presentable. You avoided looking at him, knowing that if you did, you’d see the smug satisfaction on his face that would only make you feel worse.
He pushed himself off the locker and took a step closer to you. You flinched, stepping back instinctively. “This can’t happen again.”
His smirk slipped for a moment as he looked at you. H e closed the distance between you in two strides, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, pulling you toward him before you could react, “You’re choosing him?”
You yanked your wrist out of his grip, your heart racing as you forced yourself to take a step back, putting distance between the two of you, “You’re the one who chose yourself.”
His eyes darkened, searching your face, like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. Maybe he thought he still had you wrapped around his finger.
“You’re the one who walked away,” you added, hating how your voice trembled, “So don’t act like I owe you anything.”
Rafe’s hand hovered like he was about to reach for you again, but he didn’t. “That’s not how I remember it.” 
Your stomach twisted, “I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t—” You glanced at the door, feeling the weight of Elijah waiting for you. The one person who was good for you, who actually wanted to be with you.
But the worst part? You were still thinking about Rafe. Even after everything, you were still here, breathless, a mess because of him.
He took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours, and for a second, you thought he might apologize. Maybe say something real. But Rafe Cameron didn’t do apologies. 
He raised an eyebrow, “Really?” His hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face in a gesture that was far too intimate, given everything that had just happened. “Then why are you still standing here?”
You flinched, stepping back. Why were you still standing there? You had no good answer, at least not one you were ready to admit.
“Go back to your date,” Rafe continued, his voice mocking now, “Pretend like he’s enough for you.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay. You couldn’t give him that satisfaction, not again. “You’re wrong.”
Rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I don’t think I am.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, throat tight, trying to push back the tears. This was all wrong. It was always wrong with Rafe, “Stop.”
It sounded like a plea—a plea for him to stop talking, stop looking at you like that, stop making you feel so small and yet so overwhelmed all at once.
Rafe sighed, stepping back just a fraction, and for a second, his gaze lifted. But it wasn’t enough. It never was. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said, his voice softer now, like that made a difference.
“You always do,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. The truth slipped out before you could stop it, and there it was.
His jaw clenched, "I don’t mean to," he muttered, his voice low. "You know that."
"Does it even matter?" You felt the bitterness rise in your throat, along with something else—something fragile and painful. "You still do it. Whether you mean to or not."
Rafe stayed quiet, and you hated that silence. He didn’t have an answer. He never did, not for this. Your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your jacket, something to keep your hands busy so you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t say something you’d regret. But regret was already everywhere, suffocating you both.
“I thought we were past this,” you said finally, barely more than a whisper. “I thought I was past this.” But clearly, you weren’t. Clearly, some part of you was still here, with him, in the wreckage you’d both created.
He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated, torn. “It’s not that simple.”
"It should be." Your voice cracked. You hated how much this hurt. How much he could still hurt you.
It wasn’t fair. You weren’t supposed to still care this much. You weren’t supposed to still feel this.
Rafe sighed, taking another step back, giving you space. But it wasn’t the kind of space you wanted. It wasn’t the kind that would make things easier. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he admitted quietly, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t find.
You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. "I don’t want anything from you." 
That was the truth, or at least it was supposed to be. You didn’t want anything he had to offer, not anymore. Not when every time you reached for it, it slipped through your fingers like water, leaving you emptier than before.
But there was still that ache, that feeling between you two, the one that dragged you back here even when you knew better. You wished you could kill it, cut it out of you like some infected part, but it was tangled too deep. And maybe a small part of you didn’t want to.
“You keep saying that,” he murmured, his voice almost tender, like he was seeing right through you. “But you’re still here.”
“I don’t know why,” you whispered, blinking back tears. Fuck, you hated this. Hated how vulnerable you felt, how easily he could unravel you, even now. “I shouldn’t be.”
He didn’t say anything, just stood there, watching you, like he was waiting for you to make the next move. Like he wanted you to figure it out on your own.
But you didn’t know how. You never did when it came to him.
"I’m sorry," he said, and this time, it felt real. There was no arrogance. Just Rafe, standing there, as broken as you felt. "I don’t know how to fix this."
You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “There’s nothing left to fix, Rafe. We’ve already destroyed it.”
His face twisted, like he didn’t want to believe it. Like he was still holding onto some small piece of hope. "We could—"
"No," you cut him off, shaking your head. "We can’t."
You couldn’t keep doing this. The push and pull, the endless cycle of hurt and apologies that never really fixed anything. You couldn’t keep pretending that something would change, that he would change.
Because you both knew he wouldn’t.
He took a breath, exhaling slowly, and you could see it—the realization sinking in. 
He knew it too. "I never wanted to lose you," he admitted quietly.
You swallowed hard, your chest tight. "You already did."
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shawtuzi · 1 day
Text
this one’s for you anon <33
this is 18+ so mdni thank yew
“oh….wow….”
you were absolutely speechless at the sight between your legs—suguru holding satoru by the hairs at the nape of his neck in a heated….kiss???
you knew nothing good could come out of more than half a bottle of d’usse and two blunts, hence why the two of them were between your legs once again, taking turns obscenely slurping at your pussy—but something felt different this time.
the first time they ate you out, yes their tongues were in close proximity but they never exactly touched. this time around though, they had no problem tonguing at your clit at the same time, moaning in unison as they made out with your pussy and boarder line each other but not quite. until geto abruptly stopped and pulled gojo in for a bruising kiss.
“really? in front of her??” satoru giggled, laughing even harder when geto shoved him away, wiping your essence and the salvia from the kiss from his puffy lips. suguru kissed his teeth, “let’s not act like you weren’t trying to shove your tongue down my throat a minute ago,” he said referring to gojo purposely brushing his tongue against his while they were going down on you.
satoru’s eyes flicked over to you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “look at her,” he chuckled nodding his head towards you, “babies at a loss of words.”
“well i mean how could i not be i just saw you two kiss—with a lot of tongue mind you!” you knew the two boys were very close and had a knack of sharing their women but this was very unexpected, just how far did things go between them??
“him giving me head is as far as it’s ever gone,” suguru said, breaking you out of your thoughts. he continued, “when spend copious amounts of time with someone you begin to get curious about things…didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if we did—”
“no no!” you squealed, shaking your head. you sat up to get a better look at them, “i’m not uncomfortable i just wasn’t expecting that is all,” you giggled, giving suguru’s arm a comforting squeeze. you leant over and grabbed a roach from the coffee table, now getting comfortable on the couch, confusing the two men kneeling before you.
you sparked the blunt, a mischievous glint swirling in your eyes. “did you like it?” you asked taking a hit of the blunt. geto’s cheeks immediately tinted pink, he cleared his throat before answering, “yeah it was pretty good.”
gojo scoffed, “‘pretty good’ yeah right. you were immobile by the time i was done with you.”
you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped past your lips—the image of suguru geto sprawled out, breathless, and unable to move because of some head from gojo had you a little tickled….and kinda turned on.
“y/n are you okay? your smile is kinda creeping me out,” geto’s words fell on deaf ears, your mind too preoccupied with the best fucking idea you’ve ever had. “i have an idea, a really good one—suguru take off your pants.”
“huh???”
“yesssss!”
“please be quiet satoru.”
and that my friends is how geto ended up swapping places with you, sweatpants around his ankles, eyes rolled into the back of his skull while you and gojo both slurped at the tip of his dick.
“do you like it sugu? you aren’t even looking at us,” you pouted, cupping his balls in your hand, giving them a semi-rough squeeze. suguru’s mouth dropped open, his chest now heaving up and down rapidly.
“i c-can’t look—fuck! i can’t or i’ll cum i can’t i can’t i can’t,” his voice was shaky with every word it was too cute. you’ve never seen him in such a state—it made you kinda jealous gojo got to see him like this whenever he pleased.
“open your eyes suguru c’monnn,” satoru snickered, squeezing suguru’s tip so perfectly it had his toes curling. geto’s eyes suddenly popped open when he felt sloppy kisses against his thick thighs, he gritted his teeth, grabbing gojo by his white locks.
“don’t. do. that.” suguru panted, the urge to cum becoming unbearable. gojo cocked his head to the side, he licked his lips, humming at the salty yet sweet taste that was suguru geto. “what? you don’t want y/n to know how sensitive your thighs are—hmph!” satoru was interrupted by geto shoving his dick in his mouth, a low rumble emitting from his chest.
“thas’ more like it….c’mere baby,” suguru patted the spot on the couch next to him, his other hand still holding gojo’s hair in a tight grip. you were quick to hop on the couch, immediately smashing your lips against geto’s. geto moaned into the kiss, his arm finding purchase around your waist to pull you closer.
you ran your hand down suguru’s chiseled chest, satisfied by the little whimper that slipped past his lips when you began to tweak at his nipples. his hips bucked up making satoru gag, but it was certainly nothing he couldn’t handle. geto’s hand snaked down to your soaked center, he wasted no time plunging two fingers inside, his thumb making quick work rubbing tight circles on your clit.
the three of you stayed like this for a while—suguru sloppily fingering your dripping cunt, meanwhile satoru deep throated sugu’s dick like his life depended on it. “i’m!—i’m cumming!” your pussy clenched around geto’s fingers like a vice, your body slumping against his.
geto still held you close, roughly pumping his fingers in and out in and out until your thighs were soaked and you were pushing him away with whatever strength you had left. gojo pulled off geto’s dick with a lewd pop! “mmm that was hot y/n,” he smiled up at you, running his big hand over your trembling thigh.
“think you can help me finish him off?”
you’ve never been knocked out of your post nut clarity so quick. you didn’t even bother responding, hopping off the couch and onto the floor once more between suguru’s thighs.
man did he look so good right now. his hair that was once in a bun was completely disheveled, strands of jet black hair out in every direction. his chest was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, along with his face that was also a couple shades redder than when you first started. his muscles were bulging out due to him having the couch cushions in a death grip. yeah he looked delicious.
“ah shit,” suguru hissed when felt two hot tongues begin to caress his weeping tip. you suddenly felt a heavy hand rest on your head, turning it ever so slightly to the side until you were practically locking lips with gojo, suguru’s twitching dick still in the middle. geto let out a low whistle, patting your head gently, “what a fucking sight—ah! this is mmm fuck.”
geto’s praise had you both preening, now making it your mission to make him cum. you swirled your tongue down sugu’s dick to his balls, sucking one into your mouth. you ran your hand over geto’s trembling thigh gently before digging your nails into the soft skin, you dragged your nails down, leaving red streaks trailing behind.
“f-fuck shit—okay m’cumming m’cummingggg,” suguru threw his head back, moaning so loudly and pathetically it had your thighs clenching with need once more. milky white spurts dribbled from his cock and you and satoru slurped up every bit, the feeling of both your tongues lapping at his tip nearly driving him into overstimulation.
gojo gripped you by your cheeks, pulling you in for a nasty kiss full of tongue and clashing teeth. “that was good yeah?” he smirked, wiping spit from your bottom lip. you nodded slowly, mind a daze from what had just happened. gojo chuckled giving you another kiss, which you happily returned.
“doesn’t the guy who just got his soul sucked out deserve a kiss too?”
you both turned your heads to look up a breathless suguru, his bottom lip poking out just the slightest. you climbed on the couch, satoru following suit before leaning in to give geto exactly what he asked for.
you’d never been in a three way kiss before but it was definitely something. the three of you took turns sloppily exchanging kisses, and you definitely didn’t miss the way suguru palmed at satoru’s erection, making him whimper into the kiss.
“need some help?” you asked, breaking away from the heated kiss. gojo being the shameless man he was nodded with a pathetic ‘pleaseeee’.
“what do you say sugu?” you purred, looking up at him with the best doe eyes you could give. suguru looked at the both of your before letting out a dramatic sigh, “i guess—”
“YES! REJOICE!!!” satoru jumped up, quickly removing his pants, freeing his aching dick from its confinements. he cackled at the look on suguru’s face,“don’t worry i’ll go easy on you sweetheart,” he giggled patting his cheek.
what on earth had geto gotten himself into???
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moonstruckme · 3 days
Note
Idk if you’re still taking requests for your bake sale (which is the cutest idea btw) but if you are… apple pie, prompt number 31 with Steve? (three people sat on a two-seater sofa)
I was! This probably wasn't what you had in mind but I thought it would be silly so here you go :)
cw: alcohol
Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 693 words
“Stay still.” Steve’s voice is low, a smile teasing his lips. “I’ve almost got it.” 
You roll your eyes at him, but your own smile is just as poorly repressed. You still love it when he flirts with you. Even when you’re at one of his friend-of-a-friend’s parties where everyone wants to talk with him, Steve only has eyes for you. 
“I don’t know how you missed it the first three times.” 
“Does it seem like I’m fucking around? It’s tricky, babe.” 
“Seems like you might be fucking around a little bit…” you tease.
Steve swipes at something under your eye. “Got it. What’d I tell you?” 
You beam at him. “Okay, I take it back. My hero.” 
His grin widens, but he squints at your face. “Yeah, except now you’ve got makeup on your cheek. Sorry.” 
“Really.” You frown, wiping at where he’d touched with your finger. It must have smeared your mascara. “Can you get it off?” 
“Yeah, just a sec, you’ve gotta make a wish first.” Steve holds up his finger in front of you, your eyelash balanced on its tip. 
You roll your eyes again, but neither of you are buying that you’re anything other than totally besotted with him. You inhale, holding your wish in your head. 
You blow the lash harder than you mean to when you’re jostled from behind. 
Steve frowns over your shoulder. The guy behind you has found a new and innovative way to make out with his girlfriend, him leaning over the edge of the couch and her on the beanbag below. The two of them set up camp long after you and Steve had been sitting on this couch, and the limited space means he occasionally bumps you in his enthusiasm. 
“We should move,” Steve says, not for the first time. 
“No way,” you reply again. “We were here first.” 
“This couch wasn’t made for three people.” 
You huff, irritated. “Yeah, but all the other seating is taken.” 
“I’ll get us a nice patch of carpet,” he bargains. “We’ll treat it like a picnic.” 
You shake your head. You know you’re being stupid, but it’s the principle of the thing. You want the guy who’d squeezed onto your couch to have to share it with you. “It’s not fair that we have to be the ones to move,” you say. 
Steve sighs, but his expression is fond. “Fine. At least swap places with me.” 
You raise your eyebrows at him. “Your funeral,” you say, but you scoot into the spot he leaves vacant when he stands.
Steve presents a stronger front than you had, sitting up instead of leaning away from where the other guy is infringing upon his space. 
“Alright, c’mere,” he says, reaching for you. “Let me get your makeup.” 
You lean forward happily. Steve uses the condensation from his beer to wet his thumb, rubbing at your cheek concentratedly. It’s then that your couch companion chooses to sit up. Evidently, he really had forgotten he was sharing the couch with two other people, because he knocks right into Steve, causing your boyfriend to lurch forward and for a bit of his beer to spout over the lip of the bottle and into your laps. 
You press a hand over your mouth, laughing, while Steve expels an incredulous breath. 
The guy looks back as though surprised to find him there. “Sorry, man.” He claps a hand on Steve’s shoulder, wandering off. 
“Quick,” you urge, “scoot back!” 
When Steve doesn’t move fast enough, you get up and move behind him, taking up the other side of the couch and stretching out your legs so there’s no space for anyone else. 
“What an ass.” Steve still looks in shock. 
“At least we held down the fort,” you say gleefully. “We won in the end.” 
“We won?” He laughs. “You’ve got beer on your pants, baby.” 
You shrug, ignoring the cold on your legs. “A small price to pay for victory.” 
Steve huffs, but he’s grinning, crawling across the couch to meet you. “You are so—” he kisses you firmly “—stubborn.” 
“Mhm, yeah. Now get back in your place before somebody takes it.” 
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Text
baby steps. l Joel Miller
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Summary: you were his very quiet companion on patrols
Warnings:  angst, a little bit of swearing, mentioning pregnancy, mentioning loss of a child, mentioning abortion, mentioning suicidal thoughts, generally - a lot of unpleasant things, Reader is 30s or sth, I guess
A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a long time. There are some not so nice things (read the Warnings!) but I hope the whole story won't be so awful. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
and i would like to thank you for the few kind words i have received recently. it scared me but was very nice. thank you!
The first time he met you was at Tipsy Bison when Tommy told him you would be his new partner on patrols. Footsteps were barely audible, and then a chair on the other side of the table moved and you sat down. 
Your eyes stopped on Joel's face for a moment, you nodded in greeting. The name quietly fell from your lips, and then you focused on the map that Tommy had spread out on the table.
Joel wasn't sure if you understood what his brother was saying to you. You were silent, sometimes nodding your head, nothing more.
"Is she even good for this?" Joel finally muttered as you said goodbye and left.
"What do you mean?" Tommy folded the map and put it in his jacket pocket.
Joel raised his eyebrows "She seems a little... I don't know. Distant?"
A quiet laugh escaped Tommy's lips "Really? And who's talking?" he took a few sips of coffee "Joel, you wouldn't patrol together if I wasn't sure she was good. She may not be the life of the party, but she's great at what she does."
Joel had the impression that he had seen you a few times in Jackson, but you were one of those people who kept their distance from others. So he looked like that to others too?
It was only the first patrol with you that made him change his mind about you, but he wasn't sure yet if this change was for the better. 
You were definitely not one of those people who needed to talk. Small talk wasn't for you, but you listened very carefully. 
The area around Jackson was no stranger to you, just like handling a gun. So Joel got used to you, and over time he even managed to get some information out of you.
You had been in Jackson for almost five years, you lived alone in a small apartment. You were alone. "That's the best way." No family or close friends, except for Maria. You were patrolling and searching for supplies. He was also sure he saw you in the library, but he never asked about it.
After a few months, Joel could clearly tell that you were the right person for the job. He even managed to make you laugh a few times or talk a little longer. You never asked him about the past, and when he asked you about it, you answered "We're at an age where everyone has some background, right? But not everything is suitable for talking about it."
"Your girlfriend seems nice." Ellie stated one day, and seeing his confused face added "I talked to her today. She said that this crap didn't let her finish high school, so now she's catching up on school readings. If I were her, I wouldn't bother. School sucks."
The warm coffee warmed his tired body, but after a moment he spoke up "You talked to her? When? And... She's not my girlfriend."
Ellie shrugged "We talk a lot. And you don't? You spend a lot of time together, I thought that..."
"You were wrong." Joel mumbled "Did she say anything else?"
The girl looked at him carefully. "You really don't know her very well, do you?"
He wasn't sure if he knew you at all. Did he have the right to demand that from you? You did your job thoroughly, he could rely on you, and despite everything you were still standing somewhere in the shadows, hiding from everyone.
"Is everything okay with you?"
Your voice tore him out of his reverie for a moment. You were walking through a quiet area, the fading grass crunching under your feet, and the cold wind slowly became more and more severe.
"Yeah, everything's okay." he replied, glancing at you over his shoulder "I was lost in thought."
"I saw. Good thoughts?"
Joel cleared his throat and stopped, and a moment later you stood in front of him, looking at him uncertainly. 
You really liked him. Miller might seem like a grump, but his personality didn't bother you at all. Women in Jackson also said he was handsome. You had a lot of time to watch him outside the city, you had to admit they were right too. But that wasn't what mattered, was it? You felt safe with him and you trusted him, that was important.
"Doesn't Ellie tire you out?" he asked finally.
"What?" you burst out laughing "Come on. I like her. She asks a lot of questions, but she's a cool girl. I remember when I was her age..."
You stopped as if the thought slowed down your thinking the moment it appeared in your head. Joel saw your eyes wandering around the area with an unseeing gaze.
"Were you her age when this started?" he asked, but you shook your head slightly "Older?"
"Not much." Your voice was quiet but calm "I was a senior in high school. It seems so stupid now... I had a crush on this one guy, fuck, I don't know why I thought of him now."
"It was important back then." Joel mumbled, absorbing your every word. "And your family?"
"They died. A long time ago." The answer was quick, but emotionless. "Why do you ask?"
Joel shrugged. "I don't know. Just like that. Maybe I'd like to get to know you better."
You nodded, analyzing his words for a moment. "You're weird sometimes, Miller." You finally stated. "Conversations like this don't lead anywhere. They only reopen old wounds."
You adjusted your rifle strap and moved forward.
Fall had come for good, and you were slowly starting to withdraw even more. He could see it. Patrols were almost completely silent, he rarely saw you among people or at evening community meetings. 
Even Ellie convinced him that something was going on, because when he asked her she said that she hadn't talked to you in a while.
"It's that time of year." Maria said when he asked her about you too, he was helping her fix the heating in her house. "You should get used to it, Joel. But... I didn't know you were so interested in her."
"It's not like that." he mumbled, but he felt a strange warmth creep up the back of his neck. "She's my partner on patrol. I want to know that she's okay."
"I get it." Maria nodded and sat down on the couch. "Have you talked to her?"
"I've tried, but you know perfectly well that it's not easy. You're her friend." the woman smiled gently. "Is there something she's not telling me?"
"A lot of things, Joel. Just like you, she's not very open to confiding. And this time of year..." she looked out the window where the wind was playing with the fallen leaves. "You should talk to her yourself, if you care about her. But you can also forget about it, be like everyone else, pass her on the street and just let her be. It shouldn't be that hard for you, right?"
And that was something he couldn't get out of his head.
When he saw that guy instead of you the next morning, a strange shiver ran down his spine. "She's sick." Mark said, pushing leather gloves onto his hands. "I'll replace her."
Joel nodded and they set off on patrol. However, his thoughts kept returning to you, he analyzed your last meeting, the last words you exchanged. You were even more subdued. He had the impression that he was forcing the next words out of you, and you just wanted to leave, to disappear.
"She's weird, but pretty." Mark replied when they took a break for hot coffee and a sandwich. "A few guys hit on her, but nothing came of it. Actually, I was hoping that you and her, you know..." he winked at Joel. "But maybe she's that type of person."
"What type?" Joel asked, chewing a bite of his sandwich.
"In times like these, people need each other. They want to at least pretend that things are normal." Mark explained, reaching for the thermos of coffee "And others simply adapt to it. They don't want to have anyone close to them, because it's risky, you know. I guess she's like that. A lone wolf."
But Joel wasn't entirely sure, because he knew you from a slightly different side, or at least that's what he thought. When he showed up at your door that evening, only silence greeted him. And it was the same for the next few days.
"Yeah, she's still in Jackson." Maria was sure of her words "I visited her yesterday, but I don't think..."
That was enough for him. That strange fear was creeping into Joel's heart again. He didn't know why. He was afraid, and all his thoughts kept running to you. It was as if a strange force was pulling him towards you.
"Hey! It's me. Open up." he knocked on your door, but it didn't help "I know you're there. I want to talk. You can't keep hiding."
No answer.
"I can easily break down this door." he declared "I'll make a mess and you'll just be embarrassed. I can do this, you know that. So... On three?" he cleared his throat as if he was preparing to actually do it "One!" Nothing. "Two!" he thought he heard quiet footsteps on the other side. He was about to open his mouth when the door opened slightly and he saw your face.
"You'll hurt your shoulder. It'll be my fault and you'll be excluded from patrols for a long time." you said "That's pointless. Go away."
"I'm not going until you talk to me." Joel replied, his dark eyes full of stubbornness that you knew so well "You can't keep hiding."
"Maybe I'm sick?"
"You don't seem to be."
And then with one strong push he opened the door and before you could stop him he went inside. His gaze swept the apartment, he heard your protests but didn't care. 
Like a storm he passed through the small living room, peeked into the kitchen and when he entered the bedroom he found what he was looking for.
"Fuck! Get out of here!" you hissed, rushing after him, but then you noticed the bottle of whiskey he had taken from your nightstand.
"And these are bedtime snacks?" he growled, throwing a box full of medicines to the floor. "You robbed a fucking pharmacy?"
"None of your business!" you replied, he saw the fury in your eyes. "You're the last person who should be judging me."
"Or maybe I can, because I'm the only one who's ever shown up at your fucking door? What did you want to do, huh?" he put the bottle down with a bang and walked up to you, but you didn't take a single step back. "We were supposed to find you only when the stairwell started to stink? Did you think about Maria? About Ellie? That girl really likes you. Did you think about..."
About me.
Your gaze, although full of tears, was unwavering. You stood there, arms folded across your chest, your throat constricted so tightly that you couldn't swallow.
"Joel..." his name sounded like a prayer in your mouth. "I don't know what you were thinking, but this doesn't concern you. You shouldn't even be here. I tried to keep you out of this."
"Why?" his voice was a little calmer "Why are you like this? I can't figure it out. At first I thought we just didn't know each other well, but after so many months. I heard how freely you talked to Maria, Tommy said that you used to babysit their kid. I don't understand it!"
You closed your eyes as if his words brought you pain, as if they evoked all the emotions in you that you wanted to hide. Tears ran down your cheeks, and a quiet sob escaped your throat.
"I don't know how to deal with this, Joel..." you whispered after a moment, looking at him with eyes full of pain "It all hurts me so much. Every day. Patrols with you were an escape for me, you didn't ask stupid questions, I could feel safe there. But it's all always for a moment."
Joel approached you, his warm hand caressed your arm "You can tell me everything, you know that." you nodded "Come on, sit down."
He closed the bedroom door behind you as if he was leaving something unpleasant and bad there, and then sat down next to you on the couch. When you calmed down a bit, you looked at him like never before, almost with tenderness.
"When I came to Jackson, five years ago, I wasn't alone." you started slowly.
"Were you with someone? With some group?" Joel frowned, trying to remember that detail that must have escaped his attention.
You shook your head. "No, Joel. I wasn't alone, because I was pregnant."
Something twisted his guts. He didn't expect this.
"It was the middle of the seventh month, I guess. It's hard to get regular doctor's visits these days." The little joke was probably meant to lighten the mood, but even you didn't smile. "I've had a long journey. I was alone. Almost." you took a deep breath, and Joel felt his hands go cold and trembling in an instant. "It's funny, you know. Long time ago, women my age already had two kids. And I was completely unplanned pregnant and I hated every single day. I didn't want this baby, but it was there. It was growing. It was alive. I could feel it."
"What about the father?" Joel asked quietly.
A strange grimace crossed your face at the mere memory. "He wasn't father material, if that's what you mean. Some random guy. You know, as women we have another bargaining chip. Something that really tempts some men. Something we can use to survive."
He knew perfectly well what you meant. He had seen many women like that, but he didn't judge them. Everyone did what they had to to survive.
"He was nice, if that's any consolation. We stuck together for a while, and then we went our separate ways. After a while, I found out I was pregnant. But I didn't have anyone or anything at hand to help me solve this... problem." you rubbed your forehead with your hand as if you wanted to get rid of bad memories "Some guy told me about someone who could get rid of it manually, but I was afraid of infection. Then it was too late. Days and weeks passed, and I hated myself and this baby. The nausea was killing me. I was no longer good at smuggling. I also had no idea what I would do with a crying newborn... I got to Jackson, I thought maybe someone here would help me. Maria was so wonderful." a faint smile appeared on your lips, but you weren't even looking at Joel anymore. Your gaze was fixed on your clasped hands "I started bleeding a few days after I arrived. Then everything happened so quickly... The doctor at the clinic couldn't do anything. I had to give birth, but... There was so much blood... And silence. There was no baby crying."
Joel felt as if a heavy stone was resting in his stomach. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your face, but he couldn't say any words that could comfort you. And what the hell would they sound like. But you didn't wait for that, the words slowly flowed from your lips. 
"The doctor said that my body was too weak, that long fatigue, improper diet, that he was too weak... I had a son. He was so small when Maria put him in my arms... And he was so perfect. I was so afraid that his crying would bring trouble to us, that he decided to be quiet."
"I'm sure it wasn't your fault..." Joel finally choked out "Things like that..."
"Happens. I know that." You interrupted him calmly "But it was my fault, Joel. When I saw him... I would have given my life so he could cry, so I could know he was healthy and strong. How could I have ever thought otherwise? What kind of person am I?"
Your voice broke. You looked exhausted and tired of life. Joel understood your guilt perfectly, he knew what you felt. Sarah appeared in his head in an instant.
"I had a daughter." His voice broke the long silence between you. "I lost her right at the beginning."
"I'm sorry." Your voice was quiet, but full of something that gave him some relief.
"After everything I wanted..." he cleared his throat "I wanted to do the same thing you wanted. I even tried, but... I know how you feel, it's so devastating, and it will never get easier."
"I still have him in my mind, you know. He'd be five now. He'd ask a thousand questions, and I'd have to make sure he doesn't get into trouble. Sometimes I think about what it would be like, but then I hate myself even more... I didn't want him. I wanted to get rid of him. Maybe it's because of this..."
"Don't say that." Joel grabbed your hands and squeezed them tightly. "You might have thought so. You were alone, and this world had gone mad. You got into Jackson, you could be safe here, but... These things happen."
You watched him carefully. Never before had you and Joel spoken so intimately, but you didn't feel embarrassed by it. On the contrary, it was the first time someone had really meant it when they said "I understand you."
"I'm sure she was beautiful." you said quietly.
"She was. And very smart. Much smarter than me." Joel added. "She probably would have gone to college or something."
For a moment, silence reigned again. You had the impression that you were both lost in your thoughts about the losses that affected you. You weren't beating each other, you just allowed yourselves to feel it all again.
"Did you really want to kill yourself?" his question brought you back to reality for a moment.
You nodded. "Look at me, Joel. I have nothing, no one. I don't know if I could ever get close to someone again. And all these thoughts only make me feel worse. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to feel anything anymore."
He understood it perfectly. After Sarah died, he felt that this world wasn't for him. Every day was torture, and the longer it lasted, the more he closed himself in his shell. Years passed, and Joel barricaded himself so much that no one and nothing could get him out. 
And then Ellie appeared.
"You know..." he began uncertainly trying to find the right words. "I know what I'm going to say will seem pointless to you, but sometimes it's worth gritting your teeth and trying to live on. Not jumping into the deep end right away, but slowly, day by day. I know that your son..."
The name you gave him when you saw his face for the first time came out of your mouth. Joel repeated it gently.
"Your son would have a really fantastic mother." he said "I'm sorry you had to go through this. I really am."
Tears flowed down your cheeks and Joel struggled to put his arm around you so that you could snuggle up to him. You clung to him, and for the first time he felt the warmth of your body, your scent, your tender touch when you hugged him.
You sat like that for a long time. For the first time you talked about everything and nothing, he heard your quiet laughter a few times and noticed how much he liked it. It was all like honey to his heart. The feeling of loneliness he had disappeared when you were next to him.
He saw you the next day on patrol. It was the first sunny morning in a long time.
"Hi." Your quiet voice was the best thing he'd heard in a long time.
"Baby steps, right?" He nudged your shoulder lightly.
You smiled and followed him.
☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
204 notes · View notes
lilacgaby · 2 days
Text
title: crush chronicles
pairing: megumi x reader
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summary: megumi's crush on you was discovered one by one, until he was finally forced helped to confess.
note: i love megumi.. megumi nation rise up
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he figured out he had a crush on you after your first encounter with a special grade.
as you fought, using your technique to manage a blow on the curse, he stood in awe and fear of you. as you were hit back, slamming into the wall with a sickening crack he felt the fear rage inside him ten times over.
yuuji promised to handle the curse, and at that moment megumi ran to you, as fast as his legs could take him, as he picked you up in his arms and ran out the imperfect domain with you in hand.
he knew he was a goner when the first thing you did before he went to save nobara, was poke his cheek at his worried expression, and utter, "you're so cute 'gumi." before falling asleep.
if he wasn't worried for nobara's life, he might've died right then and there.
his shikigami were the second to notice. more specifically, his divine dogs.
you'd always had a liking for them, petting them after a practice match between you and megumi. you even started to carry treats for them, feeding them whenever the missions were finished.
they sensed that whenever you were around, megumi's heart would start to race. they interpreted that you..
were a threat.
now having pulled a complete 180 on you, they refused any form of affection from you. whenever you got near megumi when they were out, they'd circle him in a defensive position, barking at you to stay away.
you sulked for an entire week about this, pouting around as you asked megumi why his dogs no longer liked you. grabbing his arm as you jokingly shook him around.
this only made his heart race faster, and his dogs feel even more inclined to protect him.
it's only when one day, while they scouted for curses ahead, that they noticed megumi patting your head as you celebrated your win, that a realization set in.
you were special to him.
after that, it was all back to normal with you and the dogs, in fact they were even more excited to be with you than normal. megumi smiled fondly at the sight of you with his divine dogs. they grew close to you too, he thought.
the next person to understand was nobara.
she had taken you two out shopping in japan, saying it was important for two girls to look good while they kicked ass.
yuuji and megumi tagged along for some reason, much to her dismay.
"this was supposed to be a girls day! you two aren't girls!"
"it's first-year bonding time."
"give me a break!"
it ended up working out, nobara using yuuji to hold all your bags as you shopped around. eventually you got hungry, and megumi offered to take you to a cafe, leaving a tired yuuji with a hyper nobara.
you two sat at a table and shared a slice of your favorite cake. you laughed as you spoke about the things that just popped into your head, megumi smiling as he listened.
anyone around could see the lovesick look in his eyes.
nobara finally figured out that you two had snuck away, and was annoyed whilst trying to look for you.
as she and yuuji neared the cafe, they saw you two through the window. a lightbulb went off in her head as she saw how close he sat, how he nodded his head after every couple of sentences, how he fiddled with his spoon as he listened deeply to you.
she slid to a stop, making yuuji bump into her.
"okay, let's go back!"
"but we came all this way and they're right there!"
"yes, but they're so gonna kiss soon! so let's go!" she said, shoving yuuji out as he whined about being tired.
yuuji had seen megumi at the cafe, but it wasn't til a day where he had stumbled upon you two in his dorm room together on a hot day that he'd finally pieced it together in his mind.
he'd witnessed a lot of interactions between you and him that were more than platonic sure, but he just didn't think megumi was that kind of guy.
he thought he was just being a gentleman back at the cafe, taking you out because you were hungry.
he thought he was just being kind when he'd offer to tie your shoes and lend you his water when out on missions.
he thought he was just being the nice guy he is when he'd offer to go with you anywhere, to stores or restaurants or whatever you needed.
but yuuji saw how red-faced megumi was as he stared at you in shorts and a tank top. you were laid with your eyes shut on his bed, a fan in your hands as you waved yourself.
he'd never seen megumi so..
striken.
megumi finally noticed yuuji at the door and jumped up.
yuuji held his hands up and with an apologetic smile closed the door behind him.
'he was so down bad.' yuuji thought, immediately texting nobara.
gojo was late to everything, even this realization.
yuuji and nobara were the ones to spill to him, talking about how close you two had gotten, and how they swore he saw you holding his hand on the mission you were sent out on.
gojo had always teased him about you, but he didn't think his special student would fall for his other prized student. how.. fated!
though he was the last one to realize, gojo was the first one to take initiative to make them forcibly admit their feelings to one another, making a plan.
as they formulated it, they realized that the key factor counted on megumi being clueless, because he'd never let them do this otherwise.
so for the next week they plotted, ignoring the confused looks of yours and megumi's as they snickered like witches.
saturday morning, you and megumi received seperate letters to go and meet under a cherry blossom tree. only your note.. had a bit more written at the end.
you both arrived there, you a bit earlier than megumi.
"megumi, it's you?"
he tilted his head in confusion. "what's me?"
"you called me out here to confess to me?" she said, while holding up the page.
megumi was plotting revenge in his head, but..
he shouldn't waste this chance right?
"yes, yes i did." he rubbed the back of his neck before speaking.
"i admire you. you're pretty, and strong, and courageous. you make light of hard situations no matter how scared you are, you're.. really amazing."
"megumi.." as they neared closer to eachother, the flowers from the tree starting to fall freely onto them, accompanying the sunlight draping in from the moving shade.
they shared their first kiss under that tree,
the first of many more.
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251 notes · View notes
corroded-hellfire · 3 days
Note
I’m sorry for getting distracted like ten times before sending this but tbh it’s kinda your fault <3
Imagine you’re sitting in the backyard with Eddie while watching the kids run around and Eddie starts talking about how happy and thankful he is for the life he has now. He gets emotional with you and even starts to cry and I just wanna see him cry happy tears. LET MY BOY BE HAPPY.
Your wish is my and @munson-blurbs’s command our darling wife 💚
Words: 2.3k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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Autumn in Hawkins is…well, like any other time in Hawkins, but with a crisp bite in the air. The leaves that budded in the spring and held a lively green in the summer are now beginning to turn brown, curling in on themselves as they fall off of the trees. The sun dips behind the clouds earlier and earlier, bringing many of the town’s residents inside their homes for the night. 
But not your family. 
You and Eddie sit side by side on the porch swing, watching your kids run around the backyard. All three of them—four, if you count Luke’s dog—are playing a rousing game of tag. Ryan and Luke have teamed up against Eliza and Patch. It isn’t much of a fair fight, considering your daughter is only three years old and the dog doesn’t have a clue about what’s happening, but no one is complaining. 
Eddie’s hand finds your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “This is pure chaos,” he whispers in your ear. 
“Insanity,” you agree. Eliza shrieks giddily as Ryan picks her up and slings her over his shoulder. There was a time where you could carry Ryan; now, he’s sixteen-years-old and turning into a young man. It was as though the years had slipped through your fingers without you realizing. “What were we thinking, adding another one into this mix?”
Instinctively, Eddie splays his palm over your stomach. You’re only a month along and aren’t close to showing yet, but he still feels that protectiveness over you. 
“Four kids and a dog,” he muses, shaking his head. “This is your fault, y’know?”
“My fault?”
Eddie nods, a serious look on his face. “Oh, yes. It was two against two when we just had the boys. But then you had to be so damn perfect, and so I had to give you a baby.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. 
“And what about this one?” You glance at where his hand rests. “Is that my fault, too?”
“Absolutely.” Eddie grins. “I mean, you looked so beautiful pregnant with Eliza. How could I possibly let that be a one-time thing?”
You’re about to protest that it was actually a nine-month thing, but you’re interrupted by Patch barking excitedly. 
The brown and white puppy runs as fast as his little legs will take him, doing laps around the three kids. He seems content when Eliza is put back down on the ground, and he can go over and check on her.
“I’m okay!” Eliza comforts with a breathless laugh. 
She pets Patch on the head as he sniffs all over her small legs and feet. Luke snatches his little sister, and though he doesn’t pick her up off the ground, he holds her prisoner against his chest.
“Whatcha gonna do now, Patch?” he teases. “Remember, I’m the one who feeds you!”
Eliza squeals and wriggles against the fourteen-year-old’s chest. Ryan decides to take the attention off both of his siblings and plop down on the grass right next to Patch.
The plan works perfectly as the Australian Shepherd and Labrador mix abandons both younger Munsons and climbs onto Ryan’s chest.
Eddie chuckles from next to you. When you turn to look at him, an infectious grin has you joining in his laughter.
“We’re raising some great kids, huh?” he muses, still watching them.
“Let’s hope this next one turns out just as amazing,” you say, squeezing your hand over Eddie’s where it’s perched on your stomach. 
He turns his hand around to lace his fingers with yours before bringing your hand up to his mouth. His soft, yet slightly chapped lips press kisses from your knuckles all the way to the inside of your wrist. The two of you may have been together for over six years now, but the display of affection still makes you dizzy with giddiness. 
“I keep wondering about how they’re going to react,” Eddie says, nodding towards your children out on the lawn. “I think I’ve imagined them responding in every possible way.”
“Can I be the one to say it to them?” you ask. It feels a little silly, but the idea of getting to say the words “you’re going to have a baby brother or sister” to them fills you with glee.
“Of course, princess.” 
It’s quiet for a few minutes as the two of you watch Eliza demonstrate to Patch how to roll over. Luke pretends to give his little sister a treat from his pocket and the girl playfully growls at him.
“Do you think Luke will wanna name this new baby?” you ask Eddie as his thumb lazily strokes the back of your hand.
“God, I hope not,” he admits with a breathy chuckle. “He’s been obsessed with WWE lately. We’ll have to name it John Cena.”
You giggle and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Man, this pregnancy was already hitting you with the exhaustion. 
“Well, Eliza would probably pick Hercules or Megara,” you point out. “Not much better.”
Eddie leans in and kisses your forehead. “Maybe we have to institute a ‘no wrestlers and no cartoon characters’ rule this time.”
“But then Eliza wouldn’t be Eliza,” you point out. It was Ryan who had chosen the name while watching The Wild Thornberries. “So, we might have to make an exception if needed.”
“Fair enough.” 
Before you can set any more ground rules, Luke calls out from the grass:
“Attention, lady and gentledad! The Amazing Eliza and her fearless pup, Patch, would like to perform their death-defying spectacular!”
You sit up a bit, watching as Eliza crouches on her hands and knees. Luke fishes a slice of bologna out of his pants pocket—you’re not sure how long it’s been in there, and you’re not sure you want to—and stands on one side of his sister. 
On her other side, Ryan holds Patch in his arms, the Aussiedor wriggling in anticipation of his snack. 
“And now,” Luke bellows, “we will release the beast!”
With that, your oldest son places Patch on the grass. Before all paws even touch down, the dog bolts towards Luke, leaping over Eliza with surprising grace. 
Eliza jumps up, excitement written all over her cherubic face. “Mommy! Daddy! Did you see that? Did you see me and Patch?”
“We sure did, sweet pea.” You look over at Eddie to gauge his reaction, only to see that his eyes are glassy. The kids are already plotting Patch’s next trick when you ask your husband what’s wrong. 
Eddie shakes his head, swiping at a tear that managed to escape. “I was just thinking about how much they smile,” he says softly. “Especially the boys. It wasn’t always this way.”
You lace your fingers with his. “I know.” You remember the early days of babysitting Ryan and Luke. They walked on eggshells around Brittany, always prepared to be dismissed or outright rejected. Each “I’m too busy to play with you,” extinguished a little more light in their eyes. 
“I love you,” Eddie murmurs. “I love you for so many reasons, but I love you most of all for bringing joy back into our lives again. For reminding us how a family should be.”
Another tear rolls down his cheek as he takes in the unconditional love that surrounds him. You reach over with your free hand and wipe the tear away with your thumb. 
“Every smile and little giggle from those boys has brought me so much joy ever since I met them. Seeing their general happiness grow over these last ten years has been a highlight of my life.”
You bring Eddie’s hand up and press a few soft kisses against the back of it. 
“And now there’s another infectious laughter added to the mix,” Eddie says with a teary chuckle as Eliza’s wild giggle floats over to you on a crisp breeze. 
“And another one soon, I’m sure,” you say, placing a hand on your lower abdomen. “I can’t picture this kid having less than an enchanting laugh.”
Eddie sniffles and nods his head. “We’re all so lucky to have you here. The best mom and the best wife.”
“Not to mention that loving and attentive father our lucky babies have. You don’t give yourself enough credit for how happy you make all of us,” you tell him. 
He tries to shrug it off, but you’re persistent. 
“It’s true! Every laugh and smile I saw from the boys in the early days was because of you. You’re the reason they had light in their lives those grade school years. And you’re the reason Eliza is as stubborn as a mule, but still the greatest kid who is full of love and laughter. And then there’s me.” You rest your chin on his shoulder and look up at him through your lashes. “I’ve never felt so safe before. So safe and loved. And I get to goof off and laugh everyday with my best friend. Cause I’m lucky enough that I got to marry my best friend.”
Eddie’s tears are coming in harder now. It brings a smile to your face, though, to know he realizes just how loved every single person in this family is. That the love only grows stronger every day and soon there will be a new little person to give and receive even more love in the Munson house. 
Your husband clears his throat and rubs over his eyes with the sleeve of his black zip-up hoodie. 
“Dad?” you hear Luke say, approaching closer. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie assures him as he tries to make sure any trace of tears is gone. “I’m okay.”
“Then why were you crying?” Eliza gasps out as she runs over to the two of you. 
“Just happy,” Eddie responds, picking the three-year-old up and setting her in his lap. “I’ve got the greatest wife and kids in the world.”
“And dog,” Luke adds as Patch trots his way over. “Patch is the best.”
“And Patch,” Eddie agrees with a chuckle. 
The puppy puts his front two paws on the porch swing next to you and you take the hint. You bend over and pick up the precocious canine, who happily makes himself comfortable in your lap. 
Ryan comes over and sprawls out on the grass at the edge of the stone patio. He stares up at the rest of you and lets out a content sigh. 
“Dad’s a big old softy,” the sixteen-year-old quips. 
Eliza climbs up on the porch swing and Eddie has to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her from falling as the seat bucks from her movements. 
“Daddy is not soft,” Eliza states as she pokes her father’s bony shoulder. She then rubs her hand over his stubble as if to further prove her point. “Hard and scratchy.”
“What about big and old?” Luke asks, doing his best to keep a smile at bay. 
“Everyone is big compared to Liza Bean!” you butt in, reaching over with one hand to poke her belly. “She’s so teeny tiny!”
Eliza nods once in agreement. 
“Right, Mama! And, yeah, Daddy is old.”
You, Luke, and Ryan can’t help but laugh at her casual words. Eddie’s jaw drops open, and he looks at all of his family members with an affronted face. 
“I am only 41!” Your husband defends. 
“Old,” Eliza reiterates. 
Eddie grabs Eliza and clutches him close to her chest.
“Listen here, little missy!” His fingers dig into Eliza’s sides, making her squeal out in laughter. “I’m young enough to beat you up!”
“I don’t know if anyone can win against Eliza…” Ryan mutters.
“No!” Eliza shouts through her laughter. “I younger! I stronger!”
Eddie ceases his tickling and holds the three-year-old tight against his chest. 
“You can never escape.”
“Bite him!” Luke suggests.
“I’ll bite back,” Eddie says. “And my teeth are bigger.”
“Don’t want to damage your dentures,” Ryan says, a smirk dancing on his face.
You and Luke can’t help but laugh, but Eddie only narrows his eyes as his oldest son and leans into whisper something in Eliza’s ear. Your daughter’s face breaks out into a grin, and she nods her head enthusiastically. 
Eddie lets her down and takes a wide berth walking around her brothers. Neither of them takes their eyes off her small figure as Patch jumps down from your lap and follows the girl. While Eliza distracts them with the direction she’s walking, Eddie silently slips off the swing and is able to pounce on Ryan.
“Hey!” Ryan calls through laughter.
Despite how hard your eldest son tries to get free, Eddie is able to hold Ryan’s arms behind his back. With him subdued, Eliza launches herself at him, quickly glomming onto her biggest brother’s torso. 
“We got you!” Eliza calls. 
Ryan manages to get all three of them laying down on the grass, all squirming around like exposed worms looking for shelter. 
Luke simply shakes his head as he sits next to you on the porch swing. 
“Such children,” Luke admonishes. 
He uses his heels against the patio to gently push the swing back and forth as the two of you watch the other three squabble. 
“Us mature ones would never act this way,” Luke says to you.
“Never,” you agree with a chuckle.
You have no doubt something diabolical is spurning in the fourteen-year-old’s head, but you know that nothing you do or say will be able to stop it. Instead, you just lay your head down on top of Luke’s as you watch Eddie and Eliza try to keep Ryan down on the grass. 
“Mature,” you repeat to yourself. “That’s definitely us.”
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276 notes · View notes
stunie · 2 days
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UMEMIYA’S SHAZAM! — sfw ノ fluff ノ umemiya hajime x f!reader ノ entry for @melon-fodder / bofurin brothel’s music collab!! ノ in which a certain white haired stranger comes to you for some help…
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Your routine has stayed the same from the day you moved to Makochi. You’d say good morning to Kotoha at 7:30 AM. Eat breakfast at Pothos and enjoy a quick cup of coffee. And by 8:30, you’re already out the door and heading to work.
It’s not every day that a stranger startles you the way this one did. Your headphones are dangling around your neck now, hands lingering over them as you stare back at him. Wide-eyed and taken aback. Your music continues playing, and you can still hear it.
Maybe that’s why you didn’t hear him approach you.
“I really, really need your help!” He sits beside you, hands clasping together to plead. “You heard it, right?”
“Y-you scared me.” Your brows furrow. “My heart’s racing— you shouldn’t run up to people with headphones in and yell for help! I thought you were hurt.”
It seems to dawn on him suddenly. “Oh, you do have headphones in! No wonder you didn’t hear me earlier.” He lets out a sheepish laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry! I didn’t notice. You look so pretty— I completely missed it.”
You blink. “Me? Pretty?”
“Yeah.” He tilts his head a bit and looks at you. “Pretty.”
He says it so matter-of-factly that you’re not even sure how to respond. “O-oh. Thank you.”
The man in front of you gives you a bright smile at this. A little too wide— as if he’s confused as to what you’re even thanking him for.
“So..” you fiddle with your headphones. “What did you need help with? It sounded urgent.”
“Ah!” He perks up again. “I almost forgot. I really liked the last song that was playing. Did you hear it? I can’t find it..”
“Oh,” you almost laugh at how he’s already forgotten that you had headphones in for the second time that morning. “Sorry. I didn’t hear it. Did you catch any of the lyrics? I can try to guess.. if you want.”
“Eh? You can do that?”
You nod.
“I’ll sing it!” He’s much closer to you now. If he notices, he doesn’t seem to acknowledge it. You start to think he’s just a really oblivious guy, but it’s not a bad thing.
You think he’s cute.
You watch him with a small smile when he clears his throat, humming in thought as he tries to recall the lyrics of the song he heard. “Hm.. okay, okay. I remember.”
“Listen closely,” he smiles. “It goes like… mmmm. mmmm mmm… and I’ll sacrifice!”
Sacrifice? That doesn’t sound like Kotoha’s playlist.
The laugh slips past your lips before you even realize it. It catches you off guard— and the confused look he gives you only makes you laugh even harder. “Sorry, sorry, ah!” You cover your mouth with the back of your hand when it comes back ten times worse.
You’re forced to hunch over the table now. Completely oblivious to the way his eyes widen at how cute you sound. You look even prettier when you’re like this. But he doesn’t need to tell you that, does he?
It’s so obvious. That’s why he was confused earlier. You already know all this, don’t you? Warmth starts creeping up his cheeks the longer you laugh at him, and his lips feel a little wobbly now.
“Hey…” a crooked smile tugs at his lips when you try to apologize through a giggle again. “How mean. And here I was asking for help!”
You weakly slide your phone in his direction. “I think this should be the song…otherwise,” your voice cracks and you take in a sharp inhale to resist the urge to laugh again. “Otherwise I really have no idea.”
“Ah, so you do know! Old Love? By… hm… Putri Dahlia and Yuji. Okay. Old Love. Old Love!” He nods before standing up abruptly. “You’re the best, you know that? Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.” It’s the calmest your voice has sounded in the last two minutes. “Don’t scare other people on your way out.”
He gives you an eager nod before leaving, and you slip your headphones back on. He never even gave you his name, did he? You’re also not entirely certain if he would be taking your advice, but at least this time it wouldn’t be you getting jumpscar—
“Hey!” You almost spit out your food. “No way. I scared you again? You scare pretty easily, huh?”
This time, it’s his turn to start laughing, and you note that this is the third time he’s forgotten about your headphones in the span of fifteen minutes. Not that telling him again would help.
“This is for you. I almost forgot.” He drops a folded piece of paper into your hands. “My number! Oh- you can call me Umemiya.”
He points to the paper. “So you can help me find more songs. I’ll text you the lyrics this time.”
So now he’s expecting you to know what he’s singing over text too. It sounds impossible, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. It’s not like it you would get jumpscared over text, anyway.
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iamgonnagetyouback · 2 days
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𝟷𝚔 || 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊
♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You go through a whirlwind of emotions when drunk.
♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: drunk!reader, Reader annoying Sirius
♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: James Potter x drunk!Reader
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You were slumped between James and Sirius, giggling uncontrollably, your legs swinging off the armrest of the couch as you hiccuped. The room was warm, and everything felt so funny. Especially Sirius's hair.
"You know what, Pads?" you slurred, poking Sirius in the cheek. "You look like a... a giant poodle. But a mean one. Like, the poodles at the dog shows that bite people."
Sirius's jaw dropped. “A poodle? You—no, absolutely not. I am—what did you say I was, James?”
James was trying not to laugh. "Uh, majestic, I think."
"Majestic!" Sirius pointed at you dramatically, like that would prove his point.
You snorted so hard you almost fell off the couch, but James caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist and steadying you. "Sure, sure, 'Padfoot the Majestic Poodle.'"
"It's mostly because of your hair—" you giggled, reaching out to pat the top of his head, missing entirely and booping his nose instead. "It's so fluffy, like a big, angry puppy!"
Sirius frowned, swatting your hand away dramatically. "I am not a dog, and my hair is majestic, thank you very much."
"Fluffy," you repeated, poking him in the cheek now. "Sirius, fluffy like a… like a poodle!"
James tried to hold back a laugh as Sirius looked properly offended, folding his arms with a huff. "Are you serious?"
You snorted at his pun. "No, you’re Sirius!"
Remus groaned from beside Peter. "Oh no. Not this again."
Peter shook his head, barely holding back his own giggles. "Here we go…"
“Are you lot serious right now?” Sirius grumbled, crossing his arms. “A poodle. Really.”
“Sirius is serious,” you added, and then cracked up at your own joke. “Sirius is Sirius—wait, Remus, did you hear that? It’s his name.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, we got it.”
“But I’m not a poodle,” Sirius muttered, still offended, while you continued to giggle.
James still eyed the bottle of firewhiskey in your hand like he wanted to take it away. Not that you noticed. Nope. You were too busy trying to poke Sirius in the cheek.
“You’ve got—got something there,” you slurred, leaning in far too close to Sirius’s face.
“What? Where?” Sirius asked, looking genuinely concerned as he wiped at his cheek. “Did I get dirt on me?”
“Yeah, it’s called your face,” you giggled, falling back onto James and laughing like it was the funniest thing you’d ever said.
Sirius gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. “How dare you! James, do you hear this? Your girlfriend is cruel.”
You waved him off, turning your attention back to James, who was trying not to smile. “He’s just mad ‘cause he’s not as pretty as you,” you said, squinting up at James like you were stating the most obvious fact in the world. You reached out and patted his face, a little too hard. “So. Pretty.”
James chuckled, grabbing your hand before you could slap him again. “Alright, love, I think you’ve had enough for one night.”
“Noooooo,” you whined, stretching out the word. “M’fine, Jamie. Look! I can sit up perfectly straight.” You immediately leaned to the side, almost toppling over onto Peter, who yelped and quickly scooted out of the way.
“Maybe… maybe a little too much,” Remus said from beside Peter, watching with raised eyebrows.
“Remus!” you called, throwing your arms out toward him. “You’re so boring, you know that?”
“Hey, I like boring,” Peter mumbled from his chair, crossing his arms.
“Yeah, Wormtail likes boring!” you repeated, pointing to Peter like he was your greatest proof.
You sat up suddenly, looking around the room, eyes wide and dramatic. “Wait. Wait. You guys can’t ever leave me, okay? Promise.”
The Marauders exchanged confused looks. “Uh—okay?” Peter said hesitantly.
“I’m serious—not like Sirius serious—" you hiccuped, "But you guys can’t leave. We have to stay friends forever or I’ll—I’ll hex all of you!” You threw your hands up, trying to look menacing, but it came off more like a flailing octopus.
James quickly wrapped his arms around you as you dramatically collapsed into his chest. “Love, we’re not going anywhere.”
“Speak for yourself,” Sirius muttered, though he was still looking somewhat offended by your earlier insult. “I don’t think I can handle another ‘your face is the problem’ comment.”
But you weren’t having it. You pointed a shaky finger at them, wobbling slightly. “You better not, Sirius Black! Or I’ll—” You narrowed your eyes dramatically, trying to look intimidating. “I’ll hex you into next week! I know spells, you know!”
James bit his lip, trying not to laugh as Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What spells?”
“Spells!” you repeated, waving your hands in the air as if that was a valid explanation. “Dangerous ones!”
Peter snorted. “I’m terrified.”
Sirius held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Merlin, you’re scary when you’re drunk.”
“Good,” you said, immediately softening. “Because I love you guys, even though Sirius is a poodle, and Remus won’t laugh at my jokes, and Peter—well, Pete, you’re just so cute, aren’t you?”
“Thanks,” Peter mumbled.
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you reached out, pulling all of them into a big, awkward group hug. “I just love you guys, okay? Don’t leave me… ever.”
James chuckled, his hand warm on your back. "Alright, let's get you to bed, yeah?"
“I don’t wanna go to bed,” you pouted, leaning into James like a rag doll. “I wanna stay here and annoy Sirius more.”
“I’m not listening to this nonsense,” Sirius huffed, throwing his hands up.
“Oh, but Sirius—don’t you wanna cuddle like a big, fluffy dog?” you teased, blinking innocently.
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.”
James stood up, pulling you gently with him. “C’mon, love, you’re barely standing.”
“Wait, no, no, no—you're all amazing, even you, Remus, boring and all.” You paused, eyes widening as if you had just realized something horrible. “Wait—don’t ever leave me, guys.”
Your lower lip started to wobble.
“Don’t leave me! You can’t! What if you just disappeared? Poof! Gone! And I’m all alone. I’ll die. I’ll actually die.”
James squeezed your hand, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I think you’re driving everyone mad, love.”
You looked up at him, beaming. “But not you, right, Jamie?” you gushed, running your fingers through his messy hair, making it even worse. “You’re perfect, James Potter. Like… a Quidditch god! And your glasses are so… shiny.”
Sirius fake gagged. “Ugh, I’m gonna be sick.”
“Shush, poodle!” you shot back at him, your words blending together into a cute mess of slurs. “You’re just jealous ‘cause James is my shiny glasses boy.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. Peter was full-on laughing now, while James was just gazing at you, completely smitten.
You huffed but allowed him to help you stand. “You’re the best, James,” you said, leaning heavily on him as he started to guide you toward the stairs.
“You’re pretty great yourself,” James chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist so you wouldn’t stumble.
Just before you reached the dormitory, you stopped, looking up at him with bleary eyes. “No, really, Jamie. You’re the best. Don’t ever change.”
James grinned down at you, his heart melting a little. “I won’t, love. Now let’s get you to bed before you start threatening to hex me too.”
You smiled sleepily, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “I’d never hex you. You’re too pretty.”
And with that, you were out, leaving James with a fond smile and the rest of the Marauders shaking their heads behind him.
Downstairs, Sirius was still sulking. “A poodle… unbelievable.”
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i love drunk!reader so much!!
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scarlethexelove · 2 days
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It's Always The Drummer
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Pairing: Drummer!Kate Bishop x Fan!Reader
Word Count: 2799
Warnings: Smut, Kate is a charming, Drumsticks being used for penetration, Service Top! Kate, Kate definitely cums just from getting R off, A bit of Beefy Kate.
A/n: As the last few fics I have to thank @wandamaximoffsbadgirl for helping with this. We have been doing this really fun back and forth were we right the fic together. It's super fun and can be surprising when one writes a something you weren't expecting. As for the fic I just had the idea pop into my head randomly while playing some Fortnite. Please enjoy 😁
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
You can't believe that your all-time favorite band is coming to town. You stayed up all night just to get tickets. Sadly, you weren't able to get VIP tickets due to how expensive they are, but you knew if you got here early enough, you could maybe get front row. Your friends stand around you as you all talk about the band. Most of them are obsessed with either the lead singer Natasha, the guitarist Wanda, or bassist Yelena. You, on the other hand, have a big crush on the drummer Kate. 
Kate was perfect on drums, and gods, the smirk on her face when she was performing, made you feel something. You had picked out an amazing outfit. You knew Kate's favorite color was purple, so you went with purple and black. Looking yourself over with all your friends beside you. You'd get to see her up close, you just knew it!
You hear some laughter that sounds familiar from behind you. You turn around and spot her. There she is, Kate Bishop in the flesh. Laughing with Wanda, Nat, and Yelena. You can't help as you start to smack the arm of your friend next to you without even taking your eyes off the women. You knew they'd be doing all the VIP stuff soon, but your friend murmurs. “oww Y/n/n.” As they walk by everyone is freaking out when Natasha calls out. “Each of us will be picking one person to be upgraded to VIP!” And of course everyone is freaking out and hoping to be picked.
You internally start to panic. There is no way you'll get picked. The women walk down the line, but as you watch Kate, her eyes seem to keep flicking towards you. You're pretty sure you're just seeing things, but it gives you hope. Of course, you would take any of them picking you, but if Kate did, you might just die. 
The girls go and pick theirs. Natasha first, then Wanda, and then Yelena. Kate was last. None of your friends had been picked, but then it happened. Kate holds out her hand at you. “Care to join me?” You could die happy right now as you place your hand in yours. Forgetting all about your friends. She pulls you along, and as you round the corner around the building, she wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you into her side. You can't help the audible gasp that escapes you, and you don't miss the smirk on her face. Your heart races with excitement and fear. You can't believe this is happening. 
Kate leans in and whispers in your ear. “You're very beautiful, you know.” A blush covers your cheeks. “N-Not as beautiful as you-you are.” You stutter. She lets out a melodic laugh at your stuttering. “No need to be nervous.” Her grip tightens on you. “We're gonna have some fun, okay beautiful?” You nod, which has Kate raising a brow at you. She holds the door open for you to let you into the band's entrance. “I need words princess.” You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. “Yes, um yeah of course.” You curse yourself for how stupid you sound. “My name’s Kate but I'm assuming you already know that.” Her confidence has your knees weak. “Y/n.” You tell her which causes her to smile. “Y/n I like the sound of that. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
Kate's words have you blushing as she brings you to a room with her name on it. The opening to  reveal what was a place for Kate to get ready, but there was something that was off and caught your eye. A bed. “U-um what's that for? Don't you guys just um like get ready in here?” Kate chuckles. “I like to take naps before the shows... along with some other activities.” She throws you a wink. 
This is amazing, and you hate to admit the fact you would let Kate do anything, but something nags at the back of your mind. “Do you do this a lot?” She looks at you. “Do what?” She asks and you can't tell if she's serious or not. “Bring...um bring girls here?” You can't look at her, but you hear a chuckle. “We each pick someone out, but usually I have no interest in anyone, but since the others do it. I do too, but…” She picks your chin up gently. “You caught my eye tonight. I know you saw me looking pretty girl.”
You're as red as a tomato and she can tell how nervous you are. “Princess we don't have to do anything you don't want to. I will bring girls back because of the others but I don't actually do anything with them. But you seem different... special.” Kate gives you a genuine smile. “I...um…” You feel your head spin and you feel like you're on fire. “I really um.” She leans over and cups your cheeks, whispering in your ear. “Just a yes or no is fine princess. You don't have to explain yourself.” She tells you. “Yes.” You breathe out. 
Kate smiles, pulling you closer by your hips. She leans in, pressing her lips to yours. You melt into her as you kiss her back. Her fingers dig into your hips. “So beautiful.” She mumbles against your lips. A whine escapes your lips. This is all you've ever wanted since you found out about this band and saw Kate. You never thought you'd be here, and you find yourself chasing her lips. For a moment you wonder if she's lying and she does this all the time, but you don't care. You'll show her the best time she's ever had.
Kate picks you up easily, and you wrap your legs around her waist. She carries you to the bed, laying you down as she hovers over you.  “You're so beautiful under me. I could get used to this.” You nod. “Me too.” You pull her down and kiss her again. The kisses get heated as she rolls her hips against you, and you moan out. “Fuck...Kate…” You desperately try to pull her closer. “Mmm need you.” She starts stripping both of you down and you feel like it couldn't be fast enough. You pull at her shirt. “Please.” You whine wanting her to go faster. “Patience princess.” You whine louder. She grips your hips tighter. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?” She asks and you let out another whine. “Words princess.” She grips your face, your eyes dilating. 
“I'll be good, please I need this. Need you Kate please.” Your words come out fast. “Good girl.” A blush rises to your cheeks at her words. She leans up and pulls her shirt off. You can't help but drool at the site. She obviously had super toned arms from being a drummer, but what you hadn't expected was how perfect her abs were. Before you even realize it, you've reached out and lightly touched them. 
“Like what you see beautiful?” Kate leans down and kisses you, barely giving you time to squeak out a yes. Her tongue pushes past your lips, moving together and letting her take the lead. Her tongue explores your mouth, which only causes you to moan. She gladly swallows your sounds. 
When Kate pulls away, you can't help but chase after her lips as a soft whine escapes you. She is already loving the sounds coming out of you and can't wait to see what else she can pull out. 
Kate gets you undressed, running her hands over your body, admiring every bit of you. She gets up for a moment to finish undressing herself. You hadn't even noticed until now as she pulls them out. Her famous light up drumsticks were tucked into her back pocket. 
You've seen them all over social media over the years, but your focus is always divided between them and the fingers that twirl them around. “Oh wow…” it comes out breathy, and Kate smirks when she notices. “Oh, do you like my drum sticks? I had them custom-made.” She holds them put towards you. “Y-yeah, I always see them in videos.” You mumble slightly embarrassed. She chuckles as an idea pops in her head. “Princess, do you trust me?” You nod faster than you should. You seriously only met the girl, but everything seems so right.
Kate smirks, taking back the sticks and having you lay back. “Just tell me if it hurts and I'll stop, okay?”She just wants to make sure you are comfortable and that she doesn’t hurt you. “Mhmm yes.” She takes one of the sticks and slowly pushes it inside of you. A moan coming out as you tip your head back at the feeling. It's a new sensation compared to what you've taken before. It's not thick but it's so long. You can hear Kate panting slightly above you as she watches her stick disappear inside of you. She didn't expect to find it so hot, but watching how your greedy cunt just sucks it in has her blinded with pleasure. 
“Fuck princess you're so hot. Look at you taking me so nicely like that. Do you think you can take both?” Kate asks, looking at you with darkened eyes. “I-I can try...mmm please? W-wanna try Kate.” She pulls the stick all the way out which causes a whine to escape you. Your walls clench around nothing as you feel empty now. 
Kate presses the tips of both sticks at your entrance before letting them slowly sink in.  “F-fuck!” You gasp at the stretch. “That's a good girl…” Kate bites her lip and the way she's moving, the sounds she's making you'd swear she was getting off as much as you were from this. The sticks hit the deepest part of you, as you arch up into them. “Fuck...f-feels so good Kate...mmm.” She picks up the pace as she plunges the sticks over and over again into your greedy hole. One of your hands reaching out and reaching around her biceps. You can feel it flex with every thrust. 
“K-Kate...Katie cumming...I'm gonna..ah.” Kate looks up at you, face all flushed. “Me too princess go on. Cum all over my drum sticks.” Her voice is so deep and husky as you feel the coil tighten inside of you. You feel her tremble, and her muscles flex as she groans out.
Your nails dig into her biceps as your back arches off the bed. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as the tips of the drumsticks hit that spot deep inside you. You fall over the edge, coating her sticks and fingers in your juices. You hear her moan loudly as you're pretty sure she just came from getting you off. 
Kate slows down before coming to a stop. Pulling them out and admiring them covered in your slick. As you come back down from the high you catch her staring at them making you blush. She smirks as she notices you staring at her. You're both still slightly panting. “Fuck princess you're so perfect under me.” The blush deepens as you whimper. “W-well, you're perfect above me.” She smirks and leans down to give you another kiss when there's a knock at the door, making you jump. “Busy!” Kate yells to whoever knocked on the door. “Kate, we have to meet VIPs in 5.” You heard Yelena call through the door.”No problem, Lena, we'll be there.” Kate yells back. “W-we.” You stutter out. She smiles down at you and holds out her hand. “I'm not letting you go that easy princess.” You don't know if you could get any redder, but you're pretty sure your face is as red as a tomato now. 
Kate pulls you up with her and helps you get dressed before dressing herself. Both of you making sure that your looks don't scream we just fucked in the dressing room. You two manage to join the VIPs, getting treated just like one with all the special little bits that came along with it. You guys got a special spot on the side of the stage and you weren't even upset about your friends not being with you. How could you be when you got to be with Kate Fucking Bishop and get the VIP upgrade for free?
As the opening band plays, Kate comes up behind you and pulls you back to where the other VIPs don't notice her standing there with you. Luckily, it's dark enough. She wraps her arms around your waist behind swaying with you to the music and enjoying the opening band with you.  
Kate kisses your neck, which has you gasping. “Enjoying the show, princess?” She whispers in your ear, and you nod in response, which makes her smile. “I'm gonna enjoy it more once you get on stage.” You look back and up at her, kissing her jawline. “You better not take your eyes off me.” Kate says in your ear. “I wouldn't dream of it Katie.” You smile and kiss her as the opening band gets ready to play their last song. She pulls away leaving you chasing her, but she has to go and so you watch her disappear once more.
The opening band finishes up their set and heads off, high fiving all of the VIPs as they pass by. It takes a few minutes as the sets are all changed. The anticipation rising within you. The crowd starts to go crazy as they get the first glance of the band waiting to come out. Natahsa is the first one out with a loud roar from the crowd. Wanda follows, and the Yelena. Last is Kate. She struts onto the stage, catching your eye as she winks at you before she turns around and does a backflip on stage. The crowd went absolutely nuts at this. You can tell she is just showing off to impress you.  
You smile, a little chuckle coming out of you as you shake your head at her. Kate sits herself down at her drums. Pulling out the sticks she just used on you making your face flush. You notice how the sticks glisten in the light more than normal. You can't help the gasp that escapes your lips. Kate smirks at you as she notices your reaction. The realization that dawns on you in that moment. She licks over the stick, staring you down. Watching your reaction intently. You feel yourself clench around nothing but you remember the sensation of the drumsticks inside of you. A pool of wetness is between your thighs once more. She gives you a wink as she starts off the set. She is absolutely going to be the death of you, but you couldn't ask for anything more.
The sets goes on, and you can't believe the night you're having. The spot is amazing and the fact you actually got fucked by your celebrity crush has your head spinning and your pinching yourself. The show is everything you could have asked for. The night was everything and more. Even if it turns out to be a one-time thing you'd get to tell your friends you fucked Kate Bishop. 
The show came to an end with an amazing encore. As the band exits the stage on the other side, Kate does the opposite. She comes right up to you, grabbing you by the hips and kissing you. She doesn't care who sees, but you can hear the gasp around you and some cheering from afar. “I'm sorry I just couldn't help myself.” Kate pulls back a little and leans her forehead against yours. 
Though you were taken by surprise at the drummer's forwardness, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and smiled. “You did amazing Katie.” You tell her before kissing again. You can see the flashes of people's phones going off at the two of you as you bury your face against her. Not used to this at all. She chuckles, wrapping her arms around you fully and lifting you up in her arms. You instinctively wrap your legs around her waist. “Let me take you on a real date princess.” She says as she walks you back towards the dressing room. You nod into her neck, and she kisses the side of your head. “And maybe it will just have to be a breakfast date.” Her voice gets low and sultry, which has you shuddering. 
You're excited about where this could lead. In a sea full of beautiful women, Kate chose you, and maybe she will always pick you.
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luveline · 5 hours
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Can you write where the reader walks into James room and he's crying and its the first time shes seen him cry so she comforts him pls xx
thank you for your request! fem, 1.2k
James’ house is a sanctuary to everyone he’s ever met. There are scratches on the wall by the door where Sirius has thrown it open, long deep welts of ruin under a drunken hand, two best friends laughing to the bedroom where they share a bed. You’re used to Sirius by now, an extension of James you love and make room for, but waking up to the heir of the most noble family in London sleeping off a hangover with his face buried in your boyfriend's shoulder still surprises you. His snores never change. 
Then there’s Remus, the sweetheart, tracking dirt into the living room because he so often forgets he’s wearing shoes, distracted by a book or a thought he shares in half smiles knowing James will listen. 
You’re everywhere. In photos like the rest of them, in your coat on the hook, your clean washing on the stairs, your shoes in the bedroom cupboard. There’s a red smudge of your lipstick on the wall at the top of the stairs where James wiped your bottom lip and then used the wall to hang over you, kissing. He keeps meaning to paint over it, you know. He says the same thing every time you bring it up, a laughing, “I’ll get to it, you thing!” 
You’re used to smiles and sounds here. You aren’t acquainted with this. Sniffles from the bedroom, long, stringing gulps of air and the answering sob. It makes your chest flip. James hasn’t cried in front of you in a year of dating and two years of knowing him. James doesn’t even get pissed off unless it’s for somebody else. Something awful must’ve happened. You rush to find out what. 
In the bedroom, James is just sitting there falling apart. Just, sat on the bed, his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking like an awful jagged up and down, like he’s hurting; the shock of it is in every inch of movement. James is beautiful in everything, skin and hands and dark, dark hair, but he’s hurting now as he drags fingers wet with tears through frizzing curls. He must have heard you coming up but he can’t stop, lifting his chin, an apology twisted in his mouth that he doesn’t say aloud. 
“Lovely, what happened?” you ask, sure you’re gonna fall through the floor. “What happened? What–”
You aren’t giving him time to answer. You need to know. 
“No, it’s alright–”
“It’s not alright,” you say, standing in front of him with stiff arms. “What happened, James?” 
“It’s okay.” He cries a little, sniffs, looking up at you with swimming eyes. “It’s alright, I’m just– it’s just– well, it’s just everything, I suppose, but it’s…” He looks down, his mouth twisting again in an apology you don’t want to take. He shakes himself. 
“James, what’s everything?” 
“Silly stuff.” James takes your hand. Telling, that a boy who’s spent his entire life looking after the people he loves would attempt to comfort you with tears still hot on his cheeks. 
You look down at his long fingers. 
James plays piano. He learned your favourite song for you before he’d ever asked you out, and when he’d played it for you, he’d played so beautifully you felt sick for days, felt sick every time you thought of him, but in the moment he’d laughed at your teary eyes and pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. Lovely girl, he’d said, laughing, I won’t play it again if you’re gonna cry like that.
You figure he must want comfort as he gives it, wrapping your arms around him to steer him toward a soft kiss, his hair like strands of satin under your lips. “Nothing that upsets you like this could ever be silly.” 
He pushes you away. Not without love, but pushing away regardless. He stands in the space you leave and wipes his cheeks with the backs of his hands. It’s nearly like he’s dancing. Just the way his arms move. But then he drops them and turns away from you, your heart plummeting to your stomach. 
“James.” 
“It’s not like that. I was hoping I’d be done before you got home. Should we go out for dinner or something?” 
“James–”
“What?” he asks, smiling, at odds with his sad eyes. “Love, it’s really fine, I’m fine.” Love. You let out a long breath, chest a cold ache slowly warmed by his gaze. There’s care for you in every eyelash, but it still shocks you when he hugs you. “It’s okay. Sorry I scared you.” 
James. “Fucking hell, Jamie, I’m not scared, I want you to tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it for you.”
He chokes on breath. “I’m fine,” he says. He doesn’t believe it himself, a crack running straight through his words. “Sorry,” he says, sickly, kissing the top of your head as you’d kissed his. 
Clearly he’s not going to let you be the one domineering the situation, but that’s okay. He can kiss your head and hold you on the edge of too tight. You slip a hand under the edge of his T-shirt to stroke his back, until your hand is numb to it, and he’s sagging against you heavily. 
“You’re really not fine, I can see that much.” 
He’s quiet, but you can tell there’s something he wants to say. 
“But that’s okay,” you say, hand clasping his back . You pat a steady rhythm there as he sighs. “It really is. I don’t know why you think you have to be finished crying before I get home, but that’s not true. You can cry. You can cry buckets. Please don’t pretend you’re not upset because of me, I’d feel so bad.”
Something hot and wet touches your forehead. “M’sorry.” 
“Nothing to be sorry for.” You pull back to pat his cheek. 
James stares at you. Tears well in usually warm eyes and get caught in the wet hedge of his lashes. You try to wipe them away before they can fall —you don’t wanna see your sweetheart crying. 
“Don’t frown,” he says softly. 
“I’m trying not to. Here, let me,” —you wipe his cheeks with your sleeve, voice a muttering thing as his skin pinks beneath your touch— “just get that there for you. Your eyes are red, Jamie, I hope you haven’t been upset for too long.” 
“No, uh. No, not too long.” 
“Can you please tell me what’s wrong? I’d like to know.” 
James’ face presses to your neck in seconds. He pauses, and then he sobs. That’s more like it. You stand there in the bedroom until your legs are stiff, and then you only move to lay him down in bed to be your little spoon. “It's not fine,” you say, your arm around him, the other playing in the swirl of his parting, “but it will be. You’re really too handsome for all these tears.”
“You think I’m handsome?”
He sounds sweet when he’s trying to make you laugh. You reach over him to kiss his hot cheek.  
208 notes · View notes
mostlymarvelsstuff · 2 days
Text
To Call You Mine
Chapter 12
Authors note: Getting back into the swing of things! I hope lol, enjoy the update!
Word count: 4738
Nat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist TCYM Masterlist
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Nat walks into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror by the closet. You've already got your black suit pants on and your suit jacket is lying on the bed with your tie. She watches for a few moments while you work on buttoning up your gray dress shirt and you quirk a brow at her in the reflection.
“See something you like, Omega?” you tease
She smirks at you before taking a few steps forward, “Oh I most certainly do, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to seeing you in your security uniform again”
You turn around and look into her eyes, “Oh, is that so?”
“Mhm, what can I say? I’m a sucker for a girl in uniform”
Right now you want nothing more than to smash your lips against your mates and spend the rest of the evening and well into the night worshiping her. But you're getting dressed up for a reason, and that reason prevents you from doing anything
“Damn Tony Stark and his stupid galas”
Nat chuckles, “Don’t worry lyubov'(love), we’ll have time to do whatever it is you're thinking about this weekend”
“I’ll hold you to that, Natty” you tell her, sending a wink her way
Her cheeks turn the adorable shade of pink that you've come to love, “How about you hold me?”
You chuckle at her, but indulge her and wrap your arms around her, careful to situate her bump appropriately, “You alright?”
“Mhm” she mumbles against your neck, “Just going to miss you tonight”
“I’ll miss you too detka(baby), but I should be home before you know it with Yelena and Kate here to keep you company”
She chuckles a bit, “I know they're going to be here to make sure Dima and I stay safe, but I honestly think I’m the one watching them tonight”
“Well, Clint can’t keep them out of trouble all the time” you joke earning a smile
“Oh don’t I know it, especially because he encourages them”
Just then the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of the two being talked about. Nat pulls herself away from you and you watch her head out of the room before going back to getting ready. Down the hall you can hear the excited voices of your mates sister and her friend as they greet her, and soon the voices get even more excited as they walk into the living room and spot Dima.
Your pup was equally as excited as you could hear him cooing and repeatedly asking for his Aunt Lena to pick him up. You assume she must do so as soon his giggles are echoing around the house along with a few of Kates. Your mate takes this moment to slip away from them and back to you.
“You ready lyubov'(love)? After work traffic will be pretty heavy right now, don’t want you to be late.”
“Yeah, just gotta get my shoes on” you assure her with a smile
She smiles back before a slight pout overtakes her features, “I’ll miss you tonight”
“I’ll miss you too, my Omega” you tell her as you make your way over to her, “I shouldn’t be home too late though since this is a benefactor party. Midnight at the latest”
“But I suppose you’ll tell me not to wait up”
“I think I’ve become too predictable with you.” you chuckle, “True I’d prefer you to get your rest, especially since your carrying two little ones- ”
“Shhh” she cuts you off, “if Yelena finds out through your big mouth instead of from me later, I’ll make you take the couch tonight”
“Okay okay, geez.” you laugh, “My point was, yes I’d like you to sleep as much as possible. But I know you don’t sleep well without me and I also know that with those two goofballs out there that a late night is most likely going to happen”
Nat smiles again, “Well, you can at least take comfort in the fact that Dima will be going to sleep at his usual time”
You laugh again, “Oh good, at least he’ll be getting his rest”
She giggles and you finally wrap your arms around her. She nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck as she wraps her arms around you in return, and a soft purr escapes her as your hand comes to rest on her belly. The two of you take a moment to just enjoy each other's embrace, letting the sound of her purrs fill the space.
After a few minutes you reluctantly pull back from her, “I should get going love”
“Drive safe, and have a good night” she tells you before leaning in for a kiss
You of course indulge her in this and kiss her back before you both head out to the living room. You exchange quick greetings with the two Betas and thank them for coming to spend time with your Omega while you have to work, and then you make your way over to the pup. You affectionately ruffle his hair and kiss his forehead as you say goodbye to him and though there's no need to as he's always been well behaved, you remind him to be good for his Mama.
Your mate walks with you as you head to the garage and the two of you share in another quick hug and kiss, “I’ll see you later baby, have fun with your sister and don’t worry too much about me”
“I’ll try. Just text me when you get there and when you're leaving for home, please”
You nod, “Of course my Omega”
And with that you hop in your car and pull out of the driveway. Natasha watches the garage door shut before she returns to the living room, where she finds her sister bouncing Dima on her lap while Kate is indulging Liho in her attention seeking by playing with one of her toys with her. Nat can’t help but chuckle as she joins them on the couch
“Setra(sister), how are you feeling?” Yelena asks, shifting her focus but still bouncing the pup
“I’m good all things considered, this pregnancy hasn’t been as rough as Dimas was. At least so far. I’ve had morning sickness a few times and I of course have the normal body aches and pains but Y/n is really good at keeping everything I need to ease those nearby”
“That's good! I’m glad your Alpha is caring for you well!” Kate exclaims, and Yelena nods in agreement, “Have you guys gone to find out what you're having yet?”
Natasha can’t help the wide smile that breaks out across her face, and one matching it shows up on Yelena's face, “ Well come on, tell us!”
“We’re having two pups, both girls!”
“Oh setra(sister), that's wonderful!” Yelena exclaims, wrapping her one arm around her as the other secures Dima, “And did your Alpha like this news?”
“She's just as excited as I am, If not more” Nat laughs, “I’ve had to help her calm down a few times while we’re putting together their nursery in our room. She doesn’t read the instructions properly in her excitement”
“Sounds just like what I witnessed with Clint when Laura was with Nathaniel” Kate laughs
“Might be worse” Nat admits, “Because this is Y/ns first time getting to care for me and prepare for pups with me”
Yelena gives her a soft look, “I've never seen you so happy”
“Well, I have everything I’ve ever wanted. Dima and I are safe here with Y/n as our Alpha, and she's so good to us. She's everything I knew she would be, and more. She gave us little Liho and now we’re growing our family” she states, rubbing her belly, “I couldn’t ask for a better mate, or a better life”
“I’m glad you got this sestra(sister), I truly am. Seeing you so happy, thrills me”
Kate nods in agreement, “It's good to see you smile again.”
“Thank you both. Now then, I can hear my boys tummy growling. Lets get dinner started, shall we?”
“Okay, but you are letting Kate Bishop and I do most of the work. You just tell us what needs done”
As your mate begins to prepare dinner with the two Betas you are still on your way to the city. The drive isn’t too long, but you do feel a bit restless. Likely because this will be the longest you've been apart from your mate and pup. The knowledge that her sister and friend are there with them does at least bring you comfort, as you know she's safe. But still the anxiety of being apart from them remains. You decide to turn the radio on in the hopes that it either calms you or distracts you. It seems to work, for now at least, and you drive on with a sense of ease.
But outside your house, there is indeed a reason for this anxiety to linger. Because parked just down the street from where your mate currently cooks with the Betas sits a car. And in that car is a very familiar and unwelcome Alpha along with two Alpha friends of his.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna just grab him tonight? I mean we watched the Alpha leave, and two Betas aren't a threat at all.” the Alpha in the front passenger seat says
“For the final time, yes I am sure.” Bruce answers, his grip on the steering wheel tightening
“But why?” the other Alpha in the backseat questions, “Isn’t your Omega in there?”
Bruce growls, “That bitch has me so angry right now that if I saw her, I’m likely to snap. And while I’d love to snuff the life out of her beloved new mate, that's not a fate I want for Natasha.”
It falls silent for a while before one of the Alphas speaks up again, “So we just watch then?”
“Yes, we learn their routines. And we wait.” Bruce continues, “As soon as Y/n leaves this house with my son, she's as good as dead and Dima is as good as mine again.”
The car continues to sit there for a while but does eventually pull away and leave, coincidently around the same time you had texted your mate about your arrival at Stark Industries. You're now in the employee elevator heading on up to the floor the party is being held on. As soon as the doors open you spot Tony, wearing his signature shades even though he's indoors. He spots you too
“Y/n!! Good to see you!!” he shouts, causing Pepper, the chef, Happy, and a few of the other security members to look your way
“Hey Tony!” you greet with a wave and make your way over to him, “How many are we expecting tonight?”
His face scrunches up in thought, “Well I had a couple hundred invites sent out, but they all included an additional plus one, so really, could be a hundred could be triple that!”
“Oh, wonderful” you mutter, graciously taking the tablet Pepper passes to you
“This is a layout of knights event, Happy already added his suggestions on where tonights additionally security should be placed, you just have to sign off on it”
“Okay great. I’ll look it over.” you assure them, “Are there any guests we know of that will for sure be here that we need to keep an eye on?”
“Just Justin Hammer, as usual” Tony says, “Keep him away from any of my tech. That includes computers and tablets. As usual.”
You nod, “Right. Let me just look this over then and we can get everyone in place before the first guest arrives”
“Wonderful”
A few hours later and the gala event is in full swing. The floor is now filled with rich and well off guests who are mingling and drinking while a live band plays off in the one corner. Servers have been rushing around all night to provide everyone with enough drinks and the bar alone was not meant to handle this sheer number of people, and hors d’oeuvres have been flowing out of the kitchen at a steady pace.
Thankfully it's been business as usual and nothing out of place or suspicious has occurred. You're still on alert though as it is quite literally your job to be, but you must admit that you do still have lingering anxiety about your family. You're able to push past it though, and focus on the crowd before you.
Back at home your Omega has just finished tucking Dima into bed and is now preparing to watch a movie with the two Betas. Kate has a large bowl of popcorn on her lap while Yelena has some nachos.
“Where did you even get those?” the redhead asks with a chuckle
“I made sure to bring them!” Yelena exclaims, “I was in the mood for them tonight. There's still more out in my bag if you want some, or if Kate Bishop doesn’t share the popcorn”
“Hey, I can share!” she exclaims, “Besides the bag I made this from was from Nats pantry, If i didn’t share I’d be a terrible guest”
Yelena shrugs, “I just know how you are with snacks thats all”
“Oh? And how am I with snacks, Yelena?”
The blonde gulps as she tries to take her foot back out of her mouth and looks to her older sister for help. But the Omega has no plans on getting in the middle of this, “Well, I think it's time I go make myself some nachos”
Natasha can feel her sister's glare in her back as she walks out of the room and she chuckles when she sees Liho down by her feet, joining her on her trek to the kitchen. Once they reach the kitchen counter she stops to pet the adorable furball, who is quickly growing, before grabbing a plate for her nachos. By the time she got her plate ready and walks back into the room, whatever words that may have been spoken have already been exchanged and Nat has to bite her tongue to avoid teasing Yelena for looking like a kicked puppy or teasing Kate for looking so smug.
“Alright, what Bond film are we starting with?”
A few more hours and a few Bond films later Natasha can feel herself getting a bit antsy. Its growing later and is nearly the time she lays down for sleep, her body is growing tired but her mind is well aware of the lack of her Alphas presence.
“Why don’t you go get your blanket from your nest, that should have enough of Y/ns scent on it to comfort you” Kate offers, having smelled the slight discomfort coming off your Omega
“Yeah, good idea” she mumbles, getting up to go get it. While grabbing it she spots the two stuffies you'd bought her sitting in her nest as well and she finds herself reaching out for the lion one
When she returns and gets all snuggled up under the blanket neither Beta mention the stuffed animal that now sits on the Omegas lap getting cuddled against her, but she's aware of the small knowing smiles that appear on their faces.
Back at the Gala it's finally time for donations to be made, which means you and the rest of the guests will likely have to hear a few speeches from both Tony and the benefactors. Thankfully your boss was usually able to avoid being long winded, but the others weren’t as reliable.
As the third donator drones on you spot some unusual movement off to the side of the crowd. A young man seems to be slipping past everyone, making his way towards the front where the stage and Tony are. You aren’t alerted right away, as perhaps he was with the press and trying to get a better shot or something. But the longer you look at him, you find yourself unable to find any sort of press badge or even a camera
“All hands, be prepared. I have a fellow acting strange here on the right side of the crowd, moving up”
Your ear piece is full of other security members saying they understood followed by the ones closest to that region saying their eyes were on him and they were ready to move at your notice. Having not actually done anything yet and still being a ways away from Tony you tell them to just remain vigilant for now. But then he's lifting his suit off his chest with his left hand and his right makes a move to go into the space just created, as if he was reaching for something concealed.
“Move in now!” you order, quickly breaking away from your own position in order to form a barrier in his line of sight to Tony
As soon as your infront of him his eyes widen but he doesn’t have the time to do or say anything before your men are grabbing him and forcing him to the ground. The crowds attention is of course grabbed by this and their eyes all fall on the scene instead of what was happening at the front of the room.
“Nothing to worry about, please carry on!” you assure, sending your boss a thumbs up
He nods, “Well, I’m sure whatever my security just dealt with was riveting but please folks, let's get back to the matter at hand”
The gala goes back to its regular activities as you and a few men escort the now hancuffed man out of the room and to a small room where you can question him and hold him until you figure out if the police need to be notified.
Your men sit him down a bit harshly at the small table as you speak, “What the hell were you thinking out there?”
The man remains silent and his gaze shifts away from you and down to the floor. That was fine with you. He didn’t have to explain himself, you could simply search him and figure out what he had on him and piece together his motives. But as you reach for his suit he starts to squirm
“Hey, back off! You can’t touch me! I know my rights!”
“Then you're well aware that its within the law for a private security team to search you once your in custody to determine you have no weapons and pose no threat”
This proves to only upset him further however and without warning his leg shoots up and his foot hits you in the gut. The sound of all the air leaving your lungs fills the room as you stumble backwards a bit and without saying a word your men move to hold him down.
“Get off me! I said let go!”
You scoff at his behavior and again reach for his suit. You pull it back and reach inside, expecting to find a shoulder slung holster and pistol which is exactly what you find. You whistle as you pull the gun out
“My my, what have we here?” it's a rhetorical question, which you answer yourself while checking to be sure the safety is on before removing the magazine, “A Glock 17 huh, oh and look at that, you even had one in the chamber ready to fire. Boys sit tight here, I’m going to call in the police to deal with this guy”
After a few more hours, half of which was taken up by paperwork, police paperwork and an interview, the gala finally seems to be winding down. Majority of the guests are either making their way out or are currently grabbing their belongings to make their way out. And a sigh of relief slips past your lips. Tonight had been more daunting than you anticipated, especially with someone actually managing to get a firearm inside despite all measures taken. If you hadn’t spotted him, you're unsure how well his plan to shoot Tony would have gone and that makes a chill run through you.
But you had stopped him and that's what mattered. Now all that was on your mind was getting back home to your Omega. You wanted nothing more than to just get nice and cozy in her nest and hold her close. And this was apparently written on your face
“You know, you don’t have to come in for a while” Happy says as he comes to stand beside you, “I can handle the set up, and its easy enough to just email you plans to double check”
You ponder it for only a second, “No, this is my job Happy and I can handle it.”
“Kid, this job has a bit of danger to it, as we were reminded tonight, and you have a pregnant Omega at home. What would she think of the situation you just had to deal with?”
You sigh, “She’d probably panic”
“Right. And my guess is that she's already nervous enough when you just leave the house for groceries, let alone your job.” your silence on the matter proves his point and he continues, “Take some time off. Be there for her during the pregnancy and give her that piece of mind. At least until the pups are born, but hell id wait until they were a year if I were you”
“I can’t just take a year off from work!” you exclaim
“You won’t be taking it off, you’d just work remotely. Do everything from your home office instead of being the hands on guy here. And hey, if it works well for you, being a family Alpha now, you might just wanna make that a permanent position”
You think about what he's saying, and it does make sense. You have a family now, why put yourself in harm's way and stress your mate out by doing so. And why stress you both out by being apart from her when you really didn’t need to be
“Yeah, you're right. I’ll talk to Tony about it before I head home tonight. Thanks Happy”
“Anytime kid”
Finally you're pulling into your own driveway. It's an hour later than you had told your mate to expect you, but you know Nat won’t hold that against you. Especially when Tonys parties are known to be long.
You're greeted by Liho as you enter the house and quickly reach down to pet her, “Missed you too little one”
You can still hear a movie playing in the living room, which puzzles you a bit as you hadn’t gotten a response from your mate when you said you were on your way home so you had expected to find everyone in bed. You stop petting Liho, much to her displeasure, and make your way further into the house. There's no sound to indicate that anyone is even home, let alone watching the film and you honestly start to worry a bit. But that all goes away once you actually enter the living room, and a soft smile spreads across your features as you take in the scene before you.
A Bond movie is still playing on the tv but all three of the women that had once been watching it are now fast asleep on the couch. Yelena is in between your mate and Kate, who both have their heads resting on the blonds shoulders, and Nat is all wrapped up in your blanket from her nest. She even has her lion stuffie cuddled up against her chest. You can’t imagine how hard you being away from home must have been for her considering how hard it was for you tonight.
You take a moment to just watch the three before you reach out to cup Nats cheek, “lyubov'(love), I’m home”
Her eyes slowly open and she looks at you in the most adorable groggy way, “Alpha?”
“Hi baby”
She smiles and reaches out for you, “Missed you”
“Missed you too” you reply, instantly wrapping your arms around her, “Why don’t we get you into your nest”
She hums in agreement so you shift your hold on her, one arm bracing her back as the other slides under her legs. You lift her with ease and she wraps the blanket closer as she snuggles into you. You both continue down the hall in a comforting silence, but when you attempt to set her down in the nest alone she looks at you quizzically
“You’re joining me, right?”
You chuckle, “I will be. I just gotta make sure your sister and Kate make it up to the spare room. And I’ve also gotta get out of this suit”
“Okay” she huffs, “Just don’t take too long”
“I won’t, love. But go to sleep if you need to, don’t wait on me” you tell her as you slip back out of the room
You head back down the hall and into the living room to find a groggy Yelena looking at you, “Y/n?”
“Hey Lena”
She blinks away some of her sleepiness, “What time is it?”
“Time for you and Kate to head upstairs and crash in the guest room” you reply, making her chuckle
“Yeah, okay. Go ahead off to bed with my sister, I’ll take care of sleepy head” You nod and turn to leave but halfway down the hall you have to hold back laughter as you hear the sound of a pillow hitting something followed by Yelena whisper shouting, “Kate Bishop! Up!”
Now back in your room you find your mate checking in on your pup via the monitor, but her attention quickly shifts to you, “Dimas still in a deep sleep”
“Good, because sending those two up near him may bite us in the ass otherwise”
She chuckles and watches you fondly as you change out of your work clothes and into your pajamas, “How was the gala?”
“It went well. I think he earned more than double what he asked for in donations. It will be nice to see what internship programs he builds with the funds and what charities he’ll donate to” You answer, finally climbing into the nest behind her
Her own hand covers yours as it comes to rest on the swell of her belly, “No security concerns?”
You let out a sigh, knowing you had to tell her, “I’m telling you this because I don’t want you seeing it on the news tomorrow and panicking”
She stiffens slightly, and her grasp on your hand tightens, “What happened?”
“There was a guy acting suspicious and heading towards Tony. I stopped him and my men detained him. He had a gun. Was probably planning on shooting Tony on stage” She immediately turns around to face you and her hands cup your face. You can instantly sense her mild distress and do your best to soothe her, “Nothing bad happened though, I’m okay. Everyone is”
“You could have been shot” she says, her voice a mere whisper
“But I wasn’t”
“But you could have been” she stresses, “It could have gone differently and you could have gotten really hurt, and I could have…could have lost you”
“Omega…” you croon as your thumbs delicately wipe her tears away, “Things could have gone differently, yes. But they didn’t. I made it home safe and I’m here with you right now. Focus on that”
“How can I when you have to go back again for the next gala, or for an autograph signing, or a private group tour, or an outing to the race track, or anything else Tony decides he needs you for? It's hard enough watching you leave the house now that I’m with pups, but now that I know just how much danger you're in….I don’t know if I can do it, Alpha”
“You won’t have to” you assure her as you bring your forehead to rest against hers, “I’m still his head of security, but I no longer need to work events. I just do online meetings, schedules and event set ups now. I just have to go to my office now. No danger.”
“Promise?”
“I promise” you tell her,placing a soft kiss against her lips, “Now get some rest detka(baby), you three need it. I’ll be right here.”
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182 notes · View notes
leejeongz · 2 days
Text
🫧 enhypen reaction - you have a hidden tattoo 🫧
pairing: boyf!enhypen x gn!reader
genre: suggestive (sunghoon, jake, sunoo), fluff
warnings: newly established relationship, enha see your body, physical affection, pet names
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𓆉 heeseung
“where is it?” heeseung probed, teasingly. his hands tickled at your sides before moving to your stomach, making you get slightly mad.
“stop it,” you swatted his hands away, “it’s not there.”
his smile faded apologetically. “sorry, i just got a bit excited, i didn’t even realise you had a tattoo!” his voice gained momentum as he spoke, clearly getting more excited about the idea again.
“it’s not that exciting, honestly,” you turned to show him the tattoo on your back.
he read it quicker than you expected him to, giving him time to snake his arms around you and kiss your cheek from behind, “art is long, life is short,” he recites, “and yet none of it is as gorgeous as you.”
𓆉 jay
“i literally had no idea that you could speak japanese?” he looked at you puzzled, wondering how he managed to overlook that cool fact.
“yeah, i even have a tattoo in japanese,” your tone suggesting he should’ve seen it before.
“y/n, believe me the last thing im looking for is tattoos when i see you,” he admitted, “but now im curious.” he rocked back on his chair, expecting you to simply roll up your sleeve or show him your ankle.
you looked out of the window of jay’s studio to ensure that there was no passers by before pulling the hem and turning around. “my lower back, can you see it?”
“mhm,” he leaned closer to see what it said, “muse? well, i’m glad that you know.” you turned back around and found yourself suddenly in his arms, “my muse.”
𓆉 sunghoon
“sorry that we have to share a bed,” your lips tugged to one side of your face guiltily.
“babe, it’s okay,” he lay in the middle of your single bed, “you can lie on top of me if there’s no room,” he smiled to you cheekily, not expecting you to actually climb on top of him.
“isn’t it funny how you have wardrobes full of clothes,” his hands rested at your sides, “yet you still HAVE to wear my shirt?” his fingers moved slightly, tickling you, causing your arms to flare around and his shirt to raise, exposing your thighs.
“hm what’s this? it’s beautiful,” his thumb held the shirt just high enough to still see your upper thigh, right where your tattoo sat. you blushed, giggling for lack of a better response.
his arms wrapped around you, his hands meeting at your back to pull you in closer and tighter, “you’re beautiful.”
𓆉 jake
as soon as jake mentioned going to the beach on the sunniest day of the year, you knew you had to find your cutest swimwear. you slipped it on under some loose fitting clothes and headed to the beach, where you met with him and a few friends.
“i laid you a towel down, i knew you’d forget to bring one,” he laughed, noting your almost empty beach bag. “come on, let’s get to the ocean!”
you hurriedly took off the outer clothing, revealing more of your body than jake had seen yet. he tried to hide a smile but ultimately failed, turning into a chuckle as he muffled out a compliment. “damn! look at you.” he took in your figure before his eyes landed on it.
“is it basic?” the question slipped out before he could even say anything, but you were relieved when he shook his head in response.
“it’s hot,” his teeth pulled at his bottom teeth, preventing him from saying more, but it wasn’t quite enough as he rolled his eyes, “fuck, you drive me crazy, baby.”
𓆉 sunoo
“honestly, it’s fine, you’re my boyfriend,” you giggle, “i’ll just get changed here.” you spun your arms around his room, as if to suggest there was plenty of room to do so.
he nodded, attempting to look away as you lifted your shirt over your head, but he just couldn’t.
“oh wait, y/n, what’s this?” he stood from his desk chair. his thumb rubbed at your waistline, right over your tattoo.
“it won’t come off, sunoo,” you laughed, taking his hand away to reveal a small moon and singular star.
“oh my gosh, it’s so pretty, i never knew you had a tattoo here?!” his hand ripped from your grasp and went to touch it again, sending a hot flush through your body. noting your reaction, sunoo’s palm covered your tattoo, pulling you in closer to him.
“you should show me what other secrets you have,” he whispered against your lips.
𓆉 jungwon
you lay with your torso to your bed, jungwon rubbing his hands together across the other side of the room.
“just the top of my back, it’s so painful, i don’t know what i’ve done!” you tell him.
“okay, i’ll get my best masseur hands on then,” he walked over to you, a little too excitedly. the minute is hands touched you, you could feel the tension escaping. the relief was instant. “the other side too?” he asked, lifting his hands. before you could respond, his voice filled the room, “you have a tattoo?! nice”
he took a closer look, taking in the intricate fine line details of the artwork - a small flower on your right shoulder.
“it’s so pretty, baby,” he complimented, “so pretty.”
𓆉 niki
“i’ll just shut up then, shall i?” you watched as niki’s eyes drifted from your own to your shoulder for the fifth time in a single minute.
he snapped out of his trance, “sorry, i was trying to listen, but there’s something there under your sweater,” he pointed.
“huh?!” you exclaimed, swatting it away, “what is it? get it off!”
his hands held your arms to your sides, forcing you to be still for moment as he investigated. with your eyes squeezed shut, you obviously weren’t to know that niki was currently sporting a huge grin. “a tattoo, y/n? i never expected that from you.”
your heartbeat slowed, finally, realising what had happened, you opened your eyes again.
“ohhhh that, yeah i got it done last year, have you never seen it before?” you asked, puzzled.
“nope,” he looked to you with his finger hooked over your off the shoulder sweater and you nodded. he pulled it down ever so slightly to reveal the scattered butterflies. “i like it though,” he added, “let me see it more often?” he pleaded, with his doe eyes that you can never say no too. “only i can see it, though.”
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d1g1tal-d1ary · 2 days
Text
Part 2 of my addicted!Simon headcanon!!
Price always had a lot going on; being the Captain of a Task Force demanded a lot of time, energy and most of all - nerves.
So when one of the nurses on base had pulled him aside and said that she suspected someone stealing Morphine, all he did was nod and call in a meeting. Luckily, everyone had obliged to giving him a urine sample to let it be tested for drugs.
What no one seemed to notice was Simon's eyes staring into nothingness as all he did was pray that his heavy heart wouldn't give his covers away. His head was spinning because he searched for a way out of this - there had to be a way he didn't have to take it. And suddenly his mind started to wander off to you; the only one who'd met him without knowing he was Ghost. The only one who knew he had a problem - a fucking big one right now - and the only one who understood him was you.
One hand tightly gripping the little cup, the other one knocking loudly on your door. He didn't hesitate when the door opened; he simply pushed it open and walked into your tiny apartment.
"Simon?" you asked with a frown plastered on your face. You hadn't expected him - of course you hadn't so all you were wearing was one of your cute pyjamas you avoided to wear around him normally. "Is everything okay?"
"I messed up," was all that came across his lips with a heavy sigh. When his gaze met yours, all he could do was put the cup on your kitchen table and point at it. "I need your help."
You stepped closer and eyed the little cup and when you realized what exactly he'd asked you to do, you shook your head. "No, I'm not helping you fake a drugtest."
"Please, luvie," his eyes studied your face - he reduced the distance between you two quickly and took your face into his rough and calloused hands. "I'll never ask anythin' of you ever again. Just let me keep my job, fuck- it's the only thing that's been keeping me sane all this time."
Of course your heart sank when you heard his pleading and even more so when you looked up at him and you could see the desperation in his blue eyes. After moments had passed - which felt like years for Simon - you'd finally nodded and given in to him.
"I knew you'd understand," he whispered and pecked your lips before letting you go take the drugtest.
You'd never felt so dirty in your life. Pissing into a little cup while Simon waited impatiently outside the bathroom made you feel greedy and so, so worthless. But if you were being honest; there was nothing you wouldn't do for Simon. Of course you weren't supporting his addiction - that was the main reason you had broken up, after all. But he was your Simon. The closest you'll ever get to finding unconditional love.
A few days after Simon had given the sample to Price - he'd been the last to hand it over - the test results finally came. And Price would never doubt his team; they'd done everything together for years at this point, but he could also imagine one of his soldiers having an addiction as it was nothing new.
To his surprise and relief, all the test results came back negative. But looking at Simon's results made him frown - or more so, all he could do was huff at the result.
"You wanted to speak to me?" Simon had stepped into Price's office; not even thinking that it could have anything to do with the drugtest as he knew you hadn't taken any.
Price's eyes never left Simon's form. He watched him intensly as he took the seat across from Price's desk. "Yeah, well, the results came back and since you're L.T., I thought you'd deserve to know before everyone else."
Simon hummed in response while leaning back, silently thanking you again.
"Luckily, everyone's negative," Price announced which made Simon even more relaxed. "But.. The Lab was a bit confused and thought something went wrong as Simon Riley's clearly a male name."
"Captain, I don't think I can follow you," Simon had frowned under his balaclava.
Price barked a bitter laugh as he looked at the Lieutnant in front of him. "They found the hormone Beta-hCG in your piss. You wanna know what that means?"
All Simon could do was nod; unaware of what's to come.
"The fuckin' piss is from someone who's pregnant," Price lowly said. "So now we not only know this wasn't your piss, but I think you two would've been smart enough to know we‘d find out. So, Riley, should I say congratultions?"
Y‘all wanna read part 3???!!! 🙏😭
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