#i was planning on talking to him about being his girlfriend and the ins and outs of long distance relationships l m f a o | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hellishjoel · 1 year ago

Text

slow shift

7k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

Series Masterlist l Next Chapter

series summary: Tommy’s Diner is where dreams go to die and burnouts clock-in for work. Waitressing would be boring without the flirtatious distractions of line cook Frankie Morales.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), swearing, talking about w33d, alcohol consumption (not by reader or frankie, but discussions of alcohol), oral (f! receiving), discussions of periods and Plan B, frankie having a fat d!ick, slightly public sex, unprotected p in v (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), you know how I roll

A/N: welcome to the first part in my linecook!frankie series! It's all just going to be chaos!! enjoy dirty dishes, cussing, and decent food made by the hot linecooks. I’ll have a title as soon as I stop putting it off <3 enjoy! let me know what you think! also how LIT is the banner

here's my masterlist!

**follow hellishfics and turn on notifications get updates on my fic postings**

“Don’t-- mm -- don’t have a lot of time, Francisco.” You teased for dominance, using his full name made him muster up a dirty chuckle. You were ready to turn around and have him fuck you into the wall, but his hand snagged your wrist, and he stopped you. Confusion screwed into your face. Then his mouth muttered the most filthy thing you had heard yet from him. “Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He muttered, your body slumping into his. Fuck it, you were Frankie Morales’ tonight.

Welcome to hell.

A makeshift building somehow still holding up four walls that housed a small restaurant inside.

This wasn’t some secret treasure that belonged on an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives or a hidden hole-in-the-wall five-star Michelin Restaurant. This was Tommy’s Diner.

The locals had different names for the run-down dump you called your place of employment: the Hometown Heartburn Hut (true), American Pie ( ha-ha funny), the Rusty Spoon (some guy OD’s behind the place one time, and no one ever forgets), or Tumbleweed, your pothead coworkers liked to call it. It was a tumbleweed because the restaurant was barren, emphasis on the weed to accommodate the faded line cooks that lurked in the back of the restaurant.

Don’t let today’s slow shift fool you; there were times when Tumbleweed was cram-packed. Friday night football games were busy with tailgaters, bustling with teens after a championship game. Other times, it was when a Greyhound bus or a similar cross-country vehicle drove through and took a stop for the passengers.

The most popular time of year was in the summer. Tommy’s Diner hosted Saturday night Cruise Nights. The town would flood with classic cars and hot rods, and the diner would transform into a drive-in. Their engines revved through different cities from far and wide to be at Tommy’s. That’s when the place felt the most alive, bustling with people and their laughter, little kids running with their milkshakes and flipping quarters into the rigged claw machine.

But it wasn’t a Saturday in August. It was a Monday. You were stuck with the misfit motley crew that did everything from dishwashing, cooking, bussing, running the register, being half-ass managers, and, of course, the token pretty waitress. You.

You will admit that each character working at Tumbleweed had a unique story etched into their grubby hands or baggy-eyed faces. They’ve weathered years of late-night shifts and condiment, grease-stained aprons.

Tonight there was Lou, the jaded by heartbreak teenage busboy. He walked with a shuffle, always sniffling about an ex-girlfriend. He worked slow and god damn, did that piss you off.

Then there was Tina, the aspiring singer stuck in a small-town type. She was newer, still learning how things worked since she had never waited tables a day in her life. She had that fresh twinkle of stardom in her eye despite being in her late 30’s. You were training her and trying not to let her drive you up the wall whenever she started singing different songs on the jukebox. Note to self: Put a sticky note saying it’s busted every time you work together.

Paul was the do-it-all guy. Toilet clogged? Get Paul. Dishes piling up? Ask Paul to do it. The cashier on a bathroom break? Paul can run the till. He was useful, just complained and grumbled a lot.

Tommy of Tommy’s Diner hasn’t worked a day in years. He’s older, so it’s understandable. Last thing you heard was he was down in Florida, living out retirement in a cheap home with a gambling addiction. Sounded like he was doing well for himself. But now his idiot son Rudy ran the place. Tommy’s picture was still on dusty display, toothy smile and all at the front door that people huddled in and out of—speaking of.

Your head lifted to attention as the bell above the door chimed, sighing in annoyance as you leaned back onto the counter. It was just Frankie.

“It’s fifteen after. You were supposed to be here on time today because we have to set up for Carla’s thing.”

Frankie breezed past you, aviators and stupid ballcap on, his smile lifted in a sneer. He was smacking on pink bubble gum as he neared your part of the counter and purposely shuffled past you with his hips against yours in an attempt to get into the kitchen. You couldn’t help but lean into him with a little smirk.

“Tommy said it was fine I was late.” He joked once he ducked into the back, your arms crossed as you followed him aimlessly.

You sigh and lean back against the locker next to his, watching him shuffle off his jacket.

“You disappoint me, Frankie.” Your face held a teasing pout.

“Never meet your heroes, baby.” That stupid fucking cocky smirk painted his face.

You opted to roll your eyes and look away as a defense tactic against Frankie’s flirty moves. Frankie calling you baby made your guts twist.

He was an ass ninety-nine percent of the time, but you two were hired the same summer a few years back and were the only ones who stayed once summer had run its course. You supposed it was bonded trauma after that.

New workers had come and gone, but you and Frankie were still at Tommy’s, still working crappy shifts on crappy hourly pay. Despite Frankie being a douchebag, he made the place bearable. He was comfortable. You knew each other.

“Can you just meet me on the floor like you were supposed to fifteen minutes ago and help with the banner? Carla’s going to be here at five, and you still have to make her special-”

“Jesus fuckin’- yes, I’ll be out in a few.” Frankie playfully groaned, shoving the brim of his hat into his mouth to hold it, his hands busy as he tied a tattered red bandana around his forehead before he replaced the cap back on. Okay… hot.

He took a deep breath once he finished, and leaned against the locker beside you, arms crossed, mimicking you as your shoulder brushed his bicep. You looked up at him, so many inches taller than you, as he looked down. Maybe too far down. He started at your eyes, but those eyes of his tended to wander right down to the cut of your shirt.

“Ugh- Frankie!” You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, readjusting your top as he playfully threw his hands up on the defense.

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous today, by the way!” He shouted as you exited the locker room, smiling and shaking your head with your back to him and throwing up your middle finger before the door swung closed with your exit.

---

You stood on the top of a dining table in your sneakers, attempting to hang a shitty banner you had painted for Carla’s birthday. You glanced down at the table and made a little face about the scuff you put in it. Oops. You can try and scrub it later.

There was no other person you or Frankie would do this stuff for. But it was Carla’s birthday and she was a diamond in the rough at this dump.

Carla's position at Tumbleweed is a mixture of human resources, accounting, decent management, and a mother figure to not just you but the entire staff. Besides Carla, we could all care less about everyone else's birthday. You were burning this ‘Happy Birthday!’ banner as soon as the clock struck midnight.

You let out an exhausted huff as you attempted to tack the final hanging string into the wall, but it was just out of reach. That’s when you heard the smacking of his stupid pink bubble gum. You didn’t even have to look.

“Are you gonna help me or not, Morales?” Your voice seethed in annoyance, not only to Frankie but also cursing your short legs and your just not long enough arms.

He didn’t say anything. Just crossed the differential space between you and took the tack and string into his meaty fingers.

You glanced down, watching his teeth capture his lower lip in concentration, checking to see if it was straight. Pushing the pin in, he backed up to where you stood on the dining table and crossed his arms in observance.

It was incredibly crooked. But it was the thought that counts, right?

“Good enough for me. You?” You glanced down at Frankie, and he was biting back a smile.

“What?” You pushed, narrowing your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good.” Distracted by something else. “D’you paint this?” The warmth of his hand slowly crept onto the back of your calf, your chest tightening as he slowly skated it higher with no interference from you.

You gently nod, avoiding his eye contact as you look at the sign. Now, his hand was on the back of your thigh, and you had to take a breath. A mhm was all you could muster up.

His fingers delicately skimmed the skirt of your uniform, knuckles brushing against your backside. You used to hate these 50’s style waitress uniforms, but now they didn’t seem so damn bad because Frankie’s movements were making you lightheaded. Snap out of it!

“Need help down?” Frankie asked, hand at the ready on your hip.

You shook your head despite using his assistance anyway. You squatted on the table, black lace panties peeking out as you used Frankie’s broad shoulders as leverage. You put one foot down onto the linoleum and then the other, wiping your hands cleanly down your uniform as you both returned to look at the lopsided sign.

You hoped it was enough. You hoped she appreciated it, especially all that she’s done for you over the years. Covering your shifts, leveling out the register when you accidentally gave someone the wrong change, tucking extra tips into your apron when she knew your rent was coming up. Everyone needed a Carla, not everyone was lucky to have one.

“She’s gonna love it,” Frankie seemed to sense your nerves as he lifted his cap to bring some air to his sweaty dark curls before putting it back into place. “I’ll start workin’ on her special. Mushroom Swiss patty melt?” He said before disappearing into the kitchen again, only leaving once you gave him your little nod of assurance. You liked that he remembered.

---

“Happy birthday, Carla!” Uncoordinated voices cheered as Carla entered Tumbleweed right on time for her shift.

Her face lit up, and she looked beautiful. She packed a little extra blush and eyeshadow to commemorate the special occasion.

“Oh, shit- oh my- You guys! Thank you!” Carla made special eye contact with you, knowing you were the only one caring enough to orchestrate this shindig.

Carla has this soulful charm about her. Raised in Louisiana, she loved to cook family recipes and bring the leftovers to work for you and Frankie to fight over. You remember she had three kids at home, so she had this curvy mom's body that put a proud sway in her walk. A playful and confident woman at heart, she was all the regular’s favorite to see. And she knew everyone. And she knew everything. She put Tommy’s back in business during the slower seasons. People would come to see her face on Sunday mornings over their coffee and runny eggs.

“Oh, baby, thank you.” She cooed as she cupped your cheek and squeezed, making your face tick. “This the red velvet?” Her voice hummed as she observed the cake in your hands, pushing her finger lightly into the frosting to taste it.

You had pulled one of the cakes from the display case and shitily piped it with chocolate sauce ‘HBD!’.

“Of course, your favorite... Right?” You pursed your lips and snuck a nervous glance at Frankie before you set the cake down on the countertop.

Carla looked beyond touched for something you’d consider a bit lackluster. “It’s my favorite ‘cause you made it. Thank you, baby.”

You glanced around for the cake cutter, watching as Tina pushed a quarter into the jukebox and got the party started. Everyone was doing shitty dance moves, even the one or two customers that had filtered in for a cheap dinner.

You sighed as you looked behind the counter for the cake cutter, grabbing the cake and its stand to haul it to the back.

You thrust your shoulder blades into the swinging door, setting the cake stand on the counter as you started sifting through the different drawers to find the serving knife.

Half a carton filled with cigarettes; Frankie’s. Matches from an old jazzy gentleman’s club; Rudy’s. Hair ties; yours. Where’s the fuckin’ cake cutter?!

The music from the jukebox was more faded in the kitchen. The serving window, professionally called the pass, was just big enough to see faces and hand plates through from the kitchen to the front.

You made a face when you found the cake server inside a large pot-- how, no, why? Jesus Christ. Fucking idiots.

The swinging door to the kitchen wooshed in before slowly creaking closed, seeing Frankie coming to stand beside you in your peripheral.

You carefully plunged the slicer into the soft sponge of the cake, carving a piece for Carla and setting it on a plate. You reached forward across the counter for another small plate, the short skirt of your uniform revealing the curve of your ass to an overly curious Frankie. You could feel his heat burning through his chest.

“Could you be less obvious?” Your voice held teasing notes, putting another piece of cake on a plate and pushing them away to make space for more.

He had tried this a handful of times with you, and he had yet to be successful besides that one time when you both drunkenly made out at the last December holiday party. You were pretty sure he had been hung up on you ever since. You enjoyed watching him try.

Your eyes flitted over to his, observing his body and facial features.

He looked gross, honestly. The two meals he cooked including Carla’s special before she came in for her shift made his face and neck sweaty and his hands greasy, his apron to match. It was white at one time, a long, long time ago. His stupid red bandana was still tied around his forehead, catching the spare sweat droplets, as the kitchen became unbearably hot in the middle of August.

You probably didn’t look much better. Hair all over the place with makeup you put on in the morning probably half smudged off by now. Your hands were checkered in pen ink, a spare papercut from snagging a receipt from the register. But still decent. He was still decent.

His hand was back in dangerous territory, lingering low on your waist. He didn’t care if anyone saw him. You could feel warmth flooding your body, heat from the heart of his hand burning into your hip. He was admiring your body, slow and appreciative as he cupped the curve of your ass. And then he squeezed.

Your shaky hands barely got the fourth slice you cut onto a small serving plate. The cake cutter clattered onto the metal counter as Frankie shifted his body behind yours, his watchful eyes on the pass. No one was watching, stupid and oblivious. You swallowed a lump down your throat, your small hands clenching the rim of the counter. His hips were flushed against yours. Worst of all was that you really fucking liked it.

“This okay?” You’re flattered he asked after the fact.

You leaned back into his touch, quietly humming on the brink of a little moan. You were a little desperate for touch, maybe you’d be on your period soon. “Mhmm..”.

Frankie was a douchebag, but you two have been flirting back and forth with one another for years like an ongoing tennis match. He was older, he had years on you. Not an obscenely amount, but enough to make people raise an eyebrow. You were surprised he had the balls to actually make a move on you like he was right now.

“Like you in black.” Frankie’s voice was cut down to a murmur, low and all-enveloping. You weren’t sure if he was referring to the black in your waitress uniform or your black panties. Probably the latter.

His fingers brushed past your goosebump-covered ass and slipped between your legs to your clothed pussy. You softly gasped, eyes shifting closed as your hips involuntarily leaned into Frankie’s touch. You didn’t look subtle at all. You looked like you wanted to be touched, manhandled, kissed, fucked…

“Open your eyes, baby girl.” He purred, your chest already heaving. “Act normal.” You forced your eyes open, looking back at him with wide, innocent eyes. Needy pupils connected with his blown-out ones. The back of your head brushed his shoulder, setting it there for just a moment before he looked straight ahead.

Frankie nodded back to the pass, your eyes following his eye line to everyone distractedly dancing and sipping coffee mixed with bourbon on the floor.

You bit down on your lower lip, knuckles cast over in a milky white with the iron grip you held on the metal rim of the counter. Frankie’s body heat had disappeared from your back, and now you felt it cast against the back of your legs. You glanced around, seeing him on his knees behind you with his mouth now latched to the back of your thighs. Oh, fuck. His kisses sponged up higher, towards your heat.

Your eyelashes fluttered, Frankie’s act normal echoing through your hollow head. With distracted hands, you resumed cutting the cake. You probably looked slow and stupid, but feeling his patchy beard hair nestle between the sweet skin of your inner thighs had you in a haze.

Frankie’s big hands reached under your skirt, lining the black panties that sat snugly on your hips with his forefingers. He slowly peeled them down, feeling the material roll as he stopped them to rest halfway down on your thighs.

Your shoulders shuddered as your warm pussy met the slight chill of the outside world, panties adorning a little soaked spot.

“Frankie,” Mm? “Someone’s gonna see.” But you weren’t stopping him. You weren’t telling him to fuck off. You weren’t kicking him right in the gut like you probably could. In fact, you were leaning into him.

“Such a pretty pussy... Can’t stop, baby.”

A helpless whimper left your lips, thighs shaking at his affectionate, warm kisses.

Frankie’s hand swatted at the inside of your right ankle and then the other, hinting for you to spread yourself for him. You pursed your lips and shakily sighed, parting your legs as your sneakers lightly squeaked on the checkered floor. Fuck me, Frankie.

You didn’t know how much longer you could be patient. The waiting was tantric, hypnotizing you into seduction.

Spread for him and dripping, Frankie’s mouth finally attached to your slit. Your knee lightly jerked up and smacked a bus tub filled with dirty dishes, a few eyes on you through the pass as you nervously laughed. “S-Sorry!”

Frankie couldn’t help but let out a warm puff of laughter against your cunt, and you swore your insides were twisting at the sensation.

“Easy pretty girl… Don’t need us gettin’ caught. You want me to stop?” Frankie’s voice was husky, warm palms spreading your thighs, your body lightly bending over to lean on the counter. You tried to look busy with something, stupidly polishing a random fork. With the extra exposure, he had full access to your sex.

“Does it look like I want you to stop?” You finally punched out through air-abducted lungs, anxiously chewing on the skin of your lip. “Frankie.” You said in a hushed warning tone, wanting more and not knowing how to ask nicely for it. But that’s what he liked about you. You weren’t nice.

His lips finally attached properly to your pussy, his devilish tongue lining the center of your cunt and flicking off your clit. Your head dropped, ears ringing at the sensation.

You wondered how good he would feel if he could take his time instead of giving you head quick while all your coworkers were distracted. Maybe he could run his thumb over the front of your panties, trace the seam of your pussy, and feel how soaked you were for him and his attentive fingers. You thought Frankie had always been so down bad for you. He probably dreamed about getting this opportunity. He finally got you when you were just as horny for someone with a pulse. But this wasn’t all the time in the world; this was a slow shift at Tommy’s.

You rut your hips back into Frankie’s face, hot pants fanning fog onto the cool metal of the counter.

Frankie put his mouth where you needed him most, his tongue dedicating a poem to you. He flattened his tongue and licked a wide, wet strip up through your core, taking in all your juices. His tongue lapped at your weeping hole, thighs shaking against his head as you stifled a moan into the counter.

He was good, manipulative, a fucking menace.

Frankie’s tongue made precision flicks against your bundle of nerves, a gasp a bit too loud leaving the kitchen as you whimpered broken fragments of his name.

You weakly looked up, seeing Tina pluck another quarter in the jukebox, cranking the volume to some seventies soul music. Fuck being quiet.

Concealed by the groove of Stevie Wonder singing We Can Work It Out, your moans were hidden by the shake of a tambourine and plucks to an electric guitar.

“Goddammit, Frankie, mmm, so fucking good,” a gasp and a moan followed suit, lazily smirking with your eyes closed. “So fucking… hot.” You murmured.

Frankie’s mouth was a welcome wonder, dedicated to making you cum. He was swirling his tongue around your clit, weakly flattening your front over the counter again and pressing your cheek against the cool metal. Don’t be a douche right now, Francisco Morales. Make me fuckin’ cum.

The kitchen door swiftly swung open, and your body flew up to stand straight as Carla waited in the doorway.

“What’s taking you so long to cut my cake, baby? I know that bitch is stale as hell, but that don’t mean I don’t want it.”

Your eyes were wide, lips parted in an attempt to speak, but Frankie’s movements didn’t cease despite Carla’s unexpected intrusion. You bit back a whimper as he lined his tongue just barely into the tight entrance of your walls, his greedy fingers piercing into the flesh of your thighs to keep you spread. Thank god the counter covered your waist down.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll be out in a sec.”

Carla looked you up and down, curious but ultimately not giving a damn. You could feel Frankie’s dirty smirk against your thighs.

“Alright... Hurry up. I’m tryna get my dessert.”

And with that, the door swished closed, and your back slumped at the relief.

Frankie’s unexpected voice made you jump lightly, his words echoing against you. “Gotta make ya finish fast, princess. Want my dessert, too.”

You whimpered but willed yourself to stand up straight and turn around to face him. He looked like a mess. Lust-filled black eyes and a cocky smirk to match. Your juices glistened on his lips and chin. Frankie would be incredibly hot if he knew how to keep his mouth shut.

“Taste as good as you look, princess.” Frankie stood up, tall and broad body making a white hot spot form in your stomach. Fuck, you couldn’t do this right now. Not right here.

He could tell. He took a few cautious steps away, you watched him carefully like a rattlesnake. He knew when not to push you and when to let you make the decisions. He also knew how to give you orders when you were too pussy fucked to think straight.

“Serve that cake and meet me out back.” He was looking over you, enjoying the few times you looked totally fucked like you did right now. He stepped back into your space and pulled your panties back into place, a sobby whimper leaving your lips as he gently cupped your aching mound with a smirk. “So fuckin’ needy, huh?”

“Fuck off.” You mumbled, fixing the bottom half of your uniform.

You watch as Frankie grabs the beer bottle you all used as a makeshift door prop and his half-carton of cigarettes you had brought out of a drawer in an attempt to find the cake cutter. He disappears out back into the alley. Shit, the cake.

You hurriedly sliced the remainder of the cake, placing a few stray candles into the slices. You lit them once you greeted the group waiting on the floor, singing a shitty rendition of Happy Birthday. Paul lights his cigarette from one of the candles, puffing smoke across the frosting.

The crowd hastily grabbed one of the small plates and a fork. Most of you only tried a bite or two. The cake had been in the display case for far too long.

---

Anxious and impatient, you slip into the back with everyone’s dirty dishes and sneak back into the kitchen. You do nothing more with them than chuck them into the sink for Lou to wash up at some point or another. Your eyes stare at the beer bottle keeping the back kitchen door ajar. You take in a deep breath, leaving a shaky sigh before following Frankie out into the alley.

The air was warm, a welcome breeze passing over you. The alley was everyone’s hideaway, littered with crushed beer and soda cans, two large garbage dumpsters, and a large one for recycling. You could see the highway in the distance. The sun was setting, and the sky was turning purple and blue. You’d watch those cars drive right past your little town, paying no mind, probably off going to somewhere bigger and better. The only people from the highway who stopped to visit Tommy’s were people who didn’t know any better.

A flick of a lighter crackled, dividing your attention. Frankie was smoking his cigarette, his back leaning against the brick wall of the diner. He was trying not to smirk. Seeing you out here was way too much power for him. He took a drag, the end of his cigarette lighting up in a glowing orange haze before he pulled it from his mouth. The smoke he exhaled was taken by the breeze.

“Happy to see me?” His goading tone asked.

“No.” A challenge. A pause.

“So, you want me to go back inside?”

“No.” Another beat. A step closer to him, arms crossed. He’s smart enough to let his cigarette land on the ground.

“So, you want me to stay out here?”

Silence. Staring. Gauging each other’s reactions. Your tight jaw meets his cocky smirk. Too stubborn to ask meeting too stubborn to give without begging. Fuck.

Maybe it’s because you’re both desperate. Maybe because Frankie knows you. Knows you’re too stubborn to ask for him to fulfill your needs. Your inaction meets his unwillingness to waste another moment that he could be inside of you.

Stomping on his cigarette before closing the distance between you two, he envelopes you in a kiss that robs you of your breath. He tastes musky and bitter. The smoke that recently captured his lungs was hot on your lips.

Your heart was beating with excitement, happy to lose control for a moment as Frankie walked you blindly backward into the brick wall. Ouch.

Your tongues danced in a rhythmic motion, seducing you into letting him take the power as the kiss deepened. The flavor was subtle but distinct. The Marlboro’s held an acrid undertone, an unexpected layer of the kiss you sort of liked. If he tasted like spearmint gum, it might have turned you off.

It was like you were his cigarette now, breathing you in and clinging to you in addiction. It was his bad habit, but who were you to judge. You had a closet full of skeletons you weren’t open to anyone seeing. Maybe this was one of his.

His hands were a welcome guest, feeling his warm palms explore a body he had probably fantasized about.

“Don’t-- mm -- don’t have a lot of time, Francisco.” You teased for dominance, using his full name made him muster up a dirty chuckle.

You were ready to turn around and have him fuck you into the wall, but his hand snagged your wrist, and he stopped you. Confusion screwed into your face. Then his mouth muttered the most filthy thing you had heard yet from him. “Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He muttered, your body slumping into his. Fuck it, you were Frankie Morales’ tonight.

Frankie guided you further from the backdoor, hearing voices enter the kitchen. Probably Paul and Lou to start working on closing chores. He took you behind the dumpsters and hiked up your dress. You decided to be useful and push your panties down. He rounded up the material that was tying you up at your ankles and shoved them into his pocket. You were not letting him keep those.

You pushed his apron aside, fingers fussing over his belt buckle. He watched, amused, unwilling to help. He liked seeing you so desperate for his cock. Unbuttoned. Unzippered. Black boxer trim peaking out now. You made slight eye contact with him before you shoved his pants and boxers down to his thighs. Your heart clenches at how girthy he was. Fuckkk, this was gonna feel good.

He didn’t take his apron off, merely shoved it to the side as it haphazardly swayed on his hip. He closed the distance between you again, a greedy kiss, a kiss to mark you with. You pulled away to spit into your hand, taking him by his base and squeezing.

Frankie’s eyes shuddered closed, his head dropping as you took his manhood in the small of your hand. He was.. more than a handful. He was so meaty, not even able to wrap your fist fully around him.

You purred out a little moan as you worked your hand over him, feeling him grow heavy in your hand as you lubed up his tip, slowly circling your thumb teasingly around the pulsing head.

“Enough.” He muttered. He didn’t like you toying with him.

Frankie hiked up your leg by the underside of your calf, hooking around his hip as you leaned your back against the cold brick wall. It wasn’t comfy, but when you fuck against a run-down diner, you don’t get many options.

Your chest shuddered as you felt his cock heavy against your folds, erect and brushing up against where you needed him most. He was running his hand up and down himself now. You watched as he put down another line of spit from his mouth to his cock before his knuckles shuffled up and down his shaft a few more times.

The sight made you reel your head back and stare up at the sky. As eager as you are, you’re worried about feeling how thick he is. He knows.

“M’gonna go real slow.” He punches out, setting his forehead down against yours, and you shakily nod. Please don’t fucking split me in two, Frankie Morales. You still have a shift to finish, after all. You’re thankful he at least acknowledges his girth. It’s sort of the elephant in the room.

You both look down at your centers, your dripping one and his angry, pink head meeting in unison. It’s sort of fucked up the way that you’re two horrible people. But you knew horrible people always seemed to find each other.

You wet your lips and bite down. Hard. You weren’t a fresh spring virgin, but this wasn’t any other half-decent dick.

You lay your head back against the wall as Frankie guides himself into your welcoming entrance. Your wetness lubes him up well, but he’s still large.

You clench your eyes close and smile. The pain is always pleasure. “Fuck,” you mutter, your head wanting to come back down and watch.

Frankie’s being gentle, an odd word you’d never describe him as. He’s grunting and impatient, but patient for you. He fills you up to the brim and your head is flooded with clouds. You’re in the sky, lightheaded, but so fucking horny.

His hips meeting yours are a gentle greeting, both of your lips brushing as you shared pants of desperation as well as relief. Your stomach was tight, recoiling with the pressure he was providing to the inside of your walls.

“God-

“Jesus-

“-fucking damn.”

“Christ.”

The two of you moaned in unison.

Your nails are piercing into his shirt, bunching around the tops of his shoulders. You move to grip his apron for some sort of control. There is none.

One of his hands is still supporting your leg wrapped around his hip, the other flattened against the brick wall beside your head. You took solace in his arm, resting your forehead against it weakly.

He was cocky for a reason. His length in inches was his amount of reasons.

“Fuck me.” You finally mustered up enough strength to demand. He shakes his head against yours.

“Give it a minute.” He mutters, barely coherent. You’re scrumptiously tight around him, and you know it. You both do.

“We don’t have a minute.” You feverishly bite back, attempting to shift your hips against his. He retaliates by planting his hips against you, fucking the final few inches of his dick into you as you both fell deeper into the wall.

A hot moan rolled off your tongue, hiding your face away in his forearm and shuddering your eyes closed. Frankie’s hand slipped from your leg, cupping the globe of your ass in his warm hand. He squeezed and it made you smile as he reeled his hips slowly back.

He grumbles something.

“What?” You asked with a dopey grin. He pushes back inside you and wipes the smirk clear off your face.

“I said… you’re so fuckin’ impatient.” His voice was tattered with grunts, your tight little pussy making it hard for him to breath.

Now he was creating a rhythm, fucking you into the wall in steady thrusts. You were already feeling your insides tug eagerly in excitement, the hot pool he had created in your guts simmering to a boil.

“Mhmm, mhm, mhm,” you moaned in silent begs, moans you had to read between the lines to understand. Fuck me, fuck me harder, fuck you feel good, I-I can’t think of anything other than fuck! Fuck me, Frankie!

He filled you up to a brim you had yet to discover you had. His tip tickled your cervix with each snap of his hips. He was getting greedy, a little sloppy. You’d judge him on this short-lived fuck later, for now, it was perfectly timed to get back into work without anyone noticing.

Your eyes widened and met his murky brown ones as he moved the hand he had against the wall nudged between your thighs, circling your clit. It was messy at first, but he found what made you tick and adjusted. Now he was running tight circles around you, and you were finding it hard to stay silent.

“Feel so fuckin’ perfect for me.” He murmured, his lips ghosting over yours in a teasing motion. You actually wanted to taste him again, so you leaned into it, your tongue lining his mouth and tasting his old cigarette with a moan.

Now he was filling you up, no hesitancy in his hips as he snapped the full extent of his length into your cunt. Your head flew back against the orange and red brick, a fucked moan leaving your mouth. Neither of you cared. Frankie’s face was nuzzled against your jawline and neck, sloppy kisses tasting old perfume as the circles on your clit intensified your impending orgasm.

“F-Fuck, Frankie, shit, I’m gonna-” You gasped and closed your eyes, clutching your arms weakly around his shoulders and holding him to you. His body enveloped you like a shield protecting you from anything in your surroundings.

Your orgasm crashed over you, coursing through your body like a million volts of electricity as you whimpered and moaned into his neck. Your eyes were clamped closed, your walls clenching and fluttering around his sensitive cock.

His moans were heavenly, guttural and deep, a little shaky even as he puffed them into your neck and shoulder. His hips twitched against the inside of your thighs as he came undone inside of you. It felt like he was cumming for days, filling you up with white rope after white rope of his semen and painting your insides with only remnants of him.

You couldn’t think. You just focused on the distant sound of the highway, creating a bustling amount of white noise for you. You gently held his head to keep him close, your shaky hand winding into his hair as the two of you reconciled over your orgasms.

He was the first one to move. He slipped himself from you and gave you a few lazy kisses. Your stomach fluttered before you shook your head.

Stop it, Frankie.

‘M not doin’ anything.

Teasing smiles. Hands softening their holds on each other’s bodies. Fixing hair. Fixing undergarments.

He would have held onto your panties. He probably hoped you forgot about them. You tugged them from his pocket and attempted to slip into them with ease, but you ended up having to use the brick wall as a support to lean into.

You steadied his apron straight, and he pulled the skirt of your uniform down. Teamwork.

You don’t really talk, just clean yourselves up, nod, and dart back inside before anyone can really notice or give a damn that you were missing in action. You kept having to excuse yourself to the bathroom, feeling Frankie still seeping from you. It made your chest hot, an embarrassed smile on your face.

Fuck it. That’s what Plan B is for. Or you can just wait to see if you get your period in a few days time.

---

You and Frankie danced around one another during the closing shift. Carla went home and took the cake in a to-go container to give to her kids. It was shitty that she had to work on her birthday, but she said that getting to see your gorgeous face was a present of its own.

You tiredly yawned, seeing it was a few minutes past ten. You helped Tina even out the cash register, putting today’s earnings in an envelope, then putting it in the safe for Rudy to take to the bank at the end of the week.

“You sure you don’t mind cleaning up on your own?” Tina asked, giving her a tired smile and a soft shrug.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you Wednesday.” Despite her annoying singing, Tina wasn’t that bad. She gave you a big grin before she hopped off the stool and left out the front door. Lou and Paul had already left at the start of closing. You didn’t know if Frankie snuck out the back early.

You did a double take to the jukebox, watching Frankie flip his baseball hat backward and push a quarter into the machine. Your face softened, seeing him flip between the different records before landing on one.

Something by Fleetwood Mac started playing. You watched him reach up and untack your banner from the wall easily. You nodded softly before grabbing the spray bottle filled with disinfectant and began wiping down the counters, seats, and tables.

He walked up to you once you finished cleaning, handing you your folded-up banner. You twisted your lips in thought, rolling the banner around in your hands.

“Wanna help me burn this in the burn barrel out back?”

Frankie sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah. Fuck it. Got nothin’ better to do.”

---

With Frankie’s lighter, both of you watched with glassy eyes as the Happy Birthday! banner burnt to ashes. His face was lit up in orange and yellow hues. He haphazardly tried to lean into the flames with a cigarette dangling between his lips, a stupid laugh leaving you. He shrugged and put the cigarette behind his ear.

“Fuck it.” He huffed, both of your eyes transfixed on the fading flames.

There was a beat of silence.

Frankie’s eyes met yours. “We should do that again sometime.”

Half of your mouth quirked up into a smirk. “Do what?”

He cocked his head to the side in annoyance. “You know what.”

You shrugged and shoved your hands into your jacket pockets. The hum of the highway in the distance made you flashback to just a few hours ago with Frankie railing you against Tumbleweed. A black and purple-streaked night sky submerged the two of you, making you feel tiny. You sigh and shift on your feet, keeping your eyes on the flames that licked up the ay! in Birthday!

“Maybe.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Maybe?”

“Mhm.”

Frankie teetered on your half-ass decision. Even the notion of having an open door left for him to sneak in was enough to make him happy. “Okay. I’ll take a maybe.”

God, you were bluffing so hard. Maybe it wouldn’t be sooo bad to throw him a bone every once in a while.

Your fantasizing was cut short as ashes of the banner spewed up from the depths of the barrel and fluttered up into the air between you and Frankie, both of you taking a preemptive step away.

His lighter clicked again; he had to do it a few times before the end of his cigarette caught a flame. “I’ll see you when I see you.” He murmured. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was trying to walk you to your car, wanting to leave, but not until you started heading home, too.

He swung his body into the driver seat of his beaten-up pickup truck. You decided to follow suit, sliding into your car. You saw Tommy’s fade away from the rearview mirror in the distance. But the thoughts of Frankie between your legs, fucking you into oblivion, and begging to serve your aching center would sit with you until your next shift at Tumbleweed. Sorry. Tommy’s Diner.

---

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moon-huny · 1 year ago

Text

The Midnight Hour - ScareActor!Buggy

CW: My content is not for anyone under 18. Minors DNI. cursing, p in v sex, afab reader, choking, breath play, dom!Buggy, sub!Reader, edging, all that goofy sex stuff

Word Count: 5.2K

Summary: You and your closest friends visit the Halloween Horror Nights in your city to experience some new attractions. What happens when one of the actors catches your eye and you catch his?

A/N: Its still October 8th so I am technically not late. One quick thing. I was a scare actor for a few years, I have friends who do this professionally. Do Not! Under Any Circumstances! Go to haunts and act in sexually inappropriate ways to the actors. This story is a fantasy. It's not real. The actors at your local haunt might be playing characters, but they are still real human beings.

That being said, I know that for many people, their sexualities tend to *cough *cough awaken at haunts. This is just a very very hyper fantasized version of that. Be respectful to scare actors.

Happy Kinktober. Okay, that's all, enjoy.

Sequel Feel Your Power

“I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE,” a chorus of loud gasps fill the car as you and your friends prepare for the final belt of the song. “SOMEBODY’S WATCHING ME!”

As Rockwell plays out in Lete’s 2010 Subaru Forester, her girlfriend, Marnie, was already pressed against the window trying to get the best view of the theme park you all were about to enter.

“I see it! I see it!” exclaimed the red haired girl, tapping her finger into the glass of the window attempting to get Lete’s attention.

“No way, Mar? For real?” taunted the tall man beside you in the back seat. His hair was jet black and pin straight falling just atop his shoulders. He had dyed the ends green and he wore a face nearly full of piercings.

“You’re telling me that the twenty-foot animatronic skeleton is where the theme park is?”

“Oh shut up, Caleb,” said Marnie with a sour face.

Tonight, your group of best friends talked you into buying tickets with them to the scariest haunted horror night in the state. After some convincing that lasted from mid-July until late-September, you finally agreed.

You wouldn’t say you were a horror fan, you weren’t opposed to a scary movie every now and then, but for the most part, horror just wasn’t your thing. The idea of walking around a fully decked out freak show with real life monsters waiting to scare you at every turn sounded about as fun as sleeping on needles.

“Alright, game plan, what attraction are we taking (y/n) to first?” said Blake. They were on the shorter side and had a bobbed hairstyle dyed a soft lavender color. Their eyes were their best feature and they always had some colorful eyeshadow shade applied over them – tonight it was burgundy.

“We won't be going anywhere until I find a place to park,” announced Lete, attempting to get the crew to hold their excitement until she found a good space.

“I’ll make a bet right now that by 11:00 p.m. all of you will be begging to go home,” said Caleb. He used to work at the theme park as a scare actor and knew all the ins and outs of the place. He also knew most of the actors who always had a difficult time scaring him.

“Fine, I’ll bet that,” said Marnie. “Loser has to make dinner for the whole group.”

“Deal,” replied Caleb confidently. “If you lose, you have to make haggis this weekend.”

“Dude, again?” said Blake. “Marnie just made that two nights ago.”

“Okay deal,” said Marnie. “If you lose, you have to make your yakitori recipe.”

“Counter, what about I make Ramen?”

“Nice try, Greenie, but you always make Ramen when it’s your turn to cook.”

“She’s right Caleb, it wouldn’t be much of a bet if you just made Ramen again.” Blake said, once again chiming in while scanning the rows of cars for a place for Lete to park the SubFor. “Oh! There Lee! Park there!”

“Thank you, finally! At least Bee is being helpful,” sighed Lete, cutting the wheel and pulling into the spot.

“Fine, Yakitori it is,” said Caleb, jumping out of the car and heading a straight-shot towards the entrance.

Everyone spilled from the car, you shuffled out behind Blake.

“Hey, are you okay?” They said helping you down and shutting the door behind you. “You’re usually a lot more chatty, what’s up?”

“Oh yea, no I’m fine,” you said, smoothing out your cotton mini skirt and thanking yourself for wearing a leather jacket over your light low cut sweater. The day’s might still be warm, but with fall already making itself at home, nights were getting colder.

“I’ve just never been to a horror night before and, with the way Caleb described it, it's going to be a little more than my neighbor's haunted house.”

“Well, we all want you to have fun but, if you get spooked and wanna leave, just let me know,” said Blake. “Either way we’ll be getting a great meal out of it.”

Both of you continued your walk just behind your more energetic counterparts. Poor Lete was being dragged by Marnie, her long inky black braids swaying behind her as she struggled to keep pace with her fiery girlfriend. Caleb, of course, leading the charge inside, already smooth talking the ticket counter girls.

“The others will just have to suck it up and come another night,” Blake continued. “With Caleb knowing everyone he does, I am sure that getting tickets won’t be difficult.”

“Thanks, Bee,” you said, your eyes slowly scanning up the absurdly large skeleton making a labored waving motion beckoning you to a night of fun.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

“Okay, Ash and Mads just told me that this year, there is a new haunted house,” said Caleb, walking backwards into the park. “It’s pirate clown themed.”

“What, did they have trouble deciding?” said Lete scanning the map of the park in her hands. Suddenly, a man large enough to throw Lete across a football field, ran up from behind her swinging a chainsaw and revving the motor.

She and Marnie both started screaming, grabbing onto one another and backing away from the terrifying overall-clad actor.

You’d be lying if you said that it didn’t scare you too. Though, since entering the park, you heightened your senses making sure to pay attention to every detail around you worried you might become the target of scares. Yet, the slight shock you felt when the actor loomed over you sent a tug straight to the pit of your stomach, an action you explained a way but one you’d fall victim to all too soon.

Caleb threw his head back and laughed, high-fiving the actor as he continued on his way, running up to small groups with his loud gardening tool. There were other grounds-keeper themed actors walking the park. All of them had different tools – like shovels and scythes – some were covered in dirt with flowers and branches growing out of their skin, copious amounts of fake blood covered them all.

“I think pirate clowns sound fun,” said Blake who was seemingly unfazed by nearly every scare. When asked how they are able to maintain such a calm demeanor, they simply said that the artistry distracts them from their fear.

“Then pirate clowns it is!” Announced the green haired man, turning around with a flourish and leading the group in the direction. Lete had long since abandoned her map duties for fear that a distraction would make her an easy target yet again.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.

You and your group of friends stood among twenty or so other people in front of one of the most elaborate haunted house set ups you’d ever seen. A marginally sized big top tent sat next to a massive reconstruction of a pirate ship. The tent opened up onto a small center ring filled with actors role playing their different acts. All of the different characters wore clothing that mixed both circus and pirate themed garb.

“God, I love funding the arts,” Caleb said, running inside the tent giddy with excitement at an attraction he clearly hadn’t experienced before.

Clowns threw knives at targets, an animal tamer with skeletal makeup cracked his whip at an animatronic seal skeleton, the acrobats swung around the ceiling tossing foam body parts and pirate scabbards back and forth to one another.

The whole thing was a spectacle. The circus tent itself was merely a themed waiting room. The actual haunted house wound through the hull of the ship, up onto the main deck and back down the other side.

Grabbing a seat on the first row, you sat and watched the show. Eventually, after doing bits with the different actors, carrying on spooky conversations and having overall fun interaction with the different characters around you, you heard shouting from off stage.

“NO NO NO, IT’S ALL WRONG!” said a man clearly dressed to be the captain of the imaginary pirate crew. “Spotlight was late, you completely missed my entrance. And where oh where was the dancing lion?”

As the clown captain approached one of the crew members, he pulled a knife and spun the animal tamer around, “slicing” his throat and sending the actor crumpling to the floor.

“I bet that was so fun to choreograph,” whispered Caleb most likely already clued in to how they were able to pull off such a convincing execution through the magic of theater.

“I just want to know who did the costume design,” Blake whispered back. “The story telling through the clothing and makeup is brilliant.”

“Would you two shut it!” Lete and Marnie said in unison at a hushed volume so as not to draw attention.

You, on the other hand, were stone still. You were unabashedly attracted, no, aroused by the captain. He was gorgeous. Eyes liked you’d never seen and a demeanor that drew the entire room into the palm of his hand. Everyone watched as he paced around the ring, leering at each and every audience member.

He then directed his attention to you from across the room, your eyes blew wide. In the faint lighting he noticed just how on edge you were. If there was one thing he loved, it was scaring little newcomers like you. The way heartbeats would quicken, eyes would become filled with fear and the screams he could pull from people, that feeling was almost euphoric.

Almost better than sex.

“Ghouls, Ghosts and Freaks of all ages,” he began in a gradios fashion. “I welcome you to the worst night of your life.”

He made his way to the center of the ring, a singular center spotlight shone down on him.

“As my hostages, it’s only right that my pirate crew take you aboard my ship to see if you can live to tell the tale. I’m Buggy, Buggy the Clown. Buggy, the flashy fool! Buggy, the genius jester!”

He glanced over his shoulder and saw you staring. His eyes roamed over you. God, aren’t you gonna be fun he thought to himself. Then spoke almost directly at your now very self continuous position, “Welcome Aboard.”

Allowing his gaze to linger in your direction and successfully making eye contact, he smirked. That was the last you saw of him as he disappeared behind the curtain and prepared to lie in wait.

Marnie turned to you, “Hey, (y/n), do you know that clown guy?”

“Oh ho ho, she’s about to,” laughed Caleb with a knowing look on his face.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.

Your small group got up to get on the ship first. The attraction followed a simple one way hallway system that, according to Caleb, would be littered with actors waiting to scare each and every one of them.

What you didn’t know was that after the first minute or so inside, dividers would drop from the ceiling above and divide the room to surprisingly separate into different hallways, sending you all on completely different paths.

Blake and Marnie were sent one direction, Caleb and Lete in another and you were left all alone – or so you thought.

Walking down the halls of the spooky ship, you encountered absolutely no actors or any people at all. The different colored lights reflected in the ship. Shades of red, purple, blue, and the occasional green light directed your path through the ship’s hull. It wasn’t until you reached a particularly narrow hallway bathed in red light that you all of a sudden felt a presence behind you. You froze in fear.

“Hmm, seems a little mouse scurried onto my ship,” said the all too familiar voice.

In the dark hallway alone, in a place you didn’t recognize, with a man you didn’t know, you should be more than terrified. And you were, you really were, but you were also filled with the most uncontrollable desire. How on earth could you let him know that you felt this way? The embarrassment you’d feel would probably kill you.

“So … little mouse,” he began slowly stalking around you, not touching, never touching.

Though it would feed his ego to have you squirm in fear beneath him, touching you was so against the rules it wasn’t even funny.

“Is my ship scary? Do I make you nervous?”

He leaned down slightly to get in your face. The tactic was one he was used to using on guests that were so clearly new to these experiences. Start small, lull the prey into a false sense of security, then pounce. Sometimes he wondered what was wrong with him, sometimes.

Getting closer to you now, he couldn’t deny that you were cute, he could tear you apart in your little skirt. Shit, coupled with that neckline? You might as well have begged him to look at your tits.

But the sweet and innocent expression plastered on your face? That was what was doing it for him. He’d seen it before, you were expecting him to take it easy on you – yeah right, in your dreams he’ll rip into you like a wolf on a basket toting little girl.

“Oh don’t worry my sweet girl,” he said in a low voice as he continued to move forward into your space causing you to back up slowly.

“What do you say, we spend a little time together.”

With a much harsher tone he used his presence to back you against one of the walls of the enclosed space. When your back hit the wooden plank wall of the ship's hull, you made a sound the captain sure as hell didn’t expect.

It wasn’t a scream, or a cry for help, or even a laugh at the absurdity of it all like he was used to – it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. The little breathy moan that left your lips when your body hit the wall made his cock twitch.

“Holy fuck, I want you to make that sound for me again.”

Where the hell did that come from? The expert scare actor he was, Buggy tried desperately to keep professional relationships with all of the guests, but something about you was different. Something about you made him want to dig deeper, drink the poison, try the drug.

You looked up at him in shock, but finally began to understand and acquaint yourself with your feelings from before. Something about fear, the lack of control, you wanted him to take whatever he wanted from you and to learn of such a thing right now could not be more inconvenient. You couldn’t speak.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” said Buggy as he backed away from you. “That was … wow yeah okay … I’m so sorry. I fucked up. You have every right to deck me and run for the hills. Let me just … I can call for someone to walk you out?”

You thought about it, truly for a moment you did, but with the way his eyes had darkened with desire for you and the sound you made for him. This was a power you refused to relinquish.

“No I … I think I … I like how you were talking to me,” shy, but at least you got your point across. His move.

He looked up at you with a momentarily confused expression. Until, of course, he caught on. His expression changed, returning to one much more confident.

“That so?” He said, placing a hand to one side of your head propping himself up to lean into you. “I’m so glad you said that, sweet girl. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me a little more about what you like? Let me make sure we’re on the same page.”

His red painted lips pulled upward into a smile, a cute one if not for the subject at hand.

“I think I’d like … I’d like to be scared.” Somehow you pulled some confidence out at the last moment to let the pirate know you’d be happy to have him do whatever he wants with you.

He leaned in much further to you. His lips nearly brushed yours but instead charting a course across your cheek and to your ear where he whispered, “I need you to tell me exactly how you want me to scare you. What do you want me to do to you, mouse?”

A gasp pulled quickly through your lungs, something that made him chuckle into the shell of your ear. His hot breath fanning against your skin was already starting to make you feel much warmer despite the cold temperatures outside.

“I want … I want you to touch me … use me … however you want.”

“Now we're talkin’, pumpkin.”

His mouth finally connected with your own, if you were warm before, at his touch you were fully set ablaze. Peeling the gloves off of his hands, one came up to grip your throat and the other found its home around your waist. As he gripped around your soft skin he felt you moan just ever so slightly.

Buggy felt a deep need to torment you. Your kiss was good, more than good it was soft and needy, the kind of kiss that makes a girl weak, but too much pleasure wasn’t good, he wanted you begging for him to stop, crying for him to slow down, pleading for a release he still wasn’t so sure you deserved. He pulled away.

“Hey beautiful, I gotta ask you a question,” he panted out. “You need a safe word, okay?”

You were in a haze, your body ached to be touched and kissed by him. The thought of a safe word made you weak. Safe from what? You whispered the first word that came to your mind.

“Christmas,” you said through your quick shallow breathing.

“Christmas?” He laughed a breathy little laugh. “Okay, Christmas it is.”

His lips found yours once again, this time it was heated and heavy. He kissed you back with a hunger and a desire to make you submit. He bit, he didn’t stop, it started to hurt.

God, you were so easy to rile, to make a whiny little mess of. He thought, now that you had a little saving grace to use when you couldn’t take it, Buggy could really start playing.

Slowing down his kiss, every few seconds Buggy would squeeze your throat, and release, squeeze and release. Gently at first, he wanted to be gentle. He might be a freak with a kink for causing pain and fear, but he also wanted you to live so gently he would go.

He began to notice that you liked it. His kiss slowed down and he began to simply tease you with little soft kisses here and there. He kept his lips on yours just allowing them to brush one another faintly. You started making little sounds and taking deeper breaths in between the contracting of his hand around your windpipe. He was proud of you for learning the rhythm so quickly, what else would you pick up on?

Finally, after releasing your throat again, and punctuating it with a quick peck to your lips, he clamped down on your throat, hard. He forced your head back into the wall. Your eyes went so wide as you tried to gasp for air, hands shooting up out of instinct to try and pull his hand away.

His other hand came up and dipped under your skirt to feel you over your panties. With all he’d been doing to you, it's no wonder you were so wet.

“Oh baby. This all for me? This sweet little pussy is soaked just for me?”

You nodded, tears rolling down your face. He had released the grip on your windpipe, but kept his thumb and two middle fingers pressed firmly on either side of your neck making you feel lightheaded. The praise going straight to your core.

“It’s a damn fuckin’ shame I don’t stick my cock in whores. I’m jus’ gonna have to use that slutty little mouth instead.”

He tossed you to the ground, “Knees. Now.”

As he undid the belt of his costume, you did the best you could to sit up and kneel before him. Your hand went up to reach for the skin of your neck feeling the raw and abused flesh. Buggy saw a little tiredness creep up on your face, a little bit of worry.

“Hey,” he said in a completely different tone than before. “Look at me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes flicked up to look at him and God that face. All tear-stained, your mascara running down your cheeks, your eyes so pleading and nervous. He had to hold back.

“You wanna make your captain feel good don’t you?”

A flash of excitement shone in your eyes. “Yes, sir I do.”

Holy fuck, you were perfect. Intoxicated but you, he pulled out his hard member. Using what precum had leaked out, he began to stroke his hand down his cock. If you weren’t turned on before, the way he looked down at you in the crimson light jacking-off inches from your face made you want him even more.

In a growl he said, “Say it again.”

“Yes, sir I do.”

He kept going, bliss from how obedient you were. “Say, yes captain I do.”

“Yes, captain I do.”

Another low moan escaped him. “Say, yes Daddy I do.”

“Yes, Daddy I do.”

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He snarled, grabbing a fist full of your hair. “Now open wide.”

You did exactly as you were told. He tapped his cock against your waiting tongue then pulled your mouth onto and around his painfully hard cock.

“Oh, holy fuck.” Your throat contracted around him as you attempted to get air through your nose.

The painful press of your knees into the hard floor and your inability to find any relief for the aching need you felt made your desire to help him finish all the more urgent.

You went along with his movements, bobbing your head up and down gagging on him. He looked down at you, bathed in red, eyes looking up crying and pleading.

“Touch yourself,” he demanded.

You shook your head ‘no’ as you continued to suck him off.

“Excuse me?” he said a lilt in his voice.

You stopped sucking with a delicious little ‘pop’ and brought your hands up to continue your work.

“I want you to touch me, captain,” you said. Voice going horse and breathing heavy but still attempting to sound sexy.

“S’that what you want, huh? Think you can just stop what I asked you to do and make demands, saying ‘i want’ ‘i want’ ‘i want.’” His tone mocked you as you slowed your pace on him, feeling fear rise up yet again.

It was the little game you played. He would be gentle, sweet, give you something you wanted, then he would switch it up, get angry and show no mercy.

“You dumb little slut,” he spat at you. Pulling you off the ground by your hair, he made you stand in front of him again. “Why don’t I give you what you want, hmm? You can decide if it was worth it.”

He dragged you onto the set piece slightly further down the hallway. Two crates placed next to one another, this time the set was all green and purple.

He ripped your panties off and shoved them in his pocket. Hiking up your skirt, he got to work. His large hands found their way to your drenched little hole. Pulling his fingers through your slick, he began to work your clit with the pads of his middle and marriage fingers.

“You’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” he mused. You let out a few little squeaking moans here and there, but he wasn’t moving his fingers fast enough to bring you to a climax. Not yet, anyway.

“More. More please, captain,” you sighed. “Daddy, please give me more. It feels so good.”

“Greedy little thing,” the comment was so casual, so uncaring. “You are going to get what I give you.” With that, he slapped your clit, hard. The quick sting causing you to jump and yelp in pain.

“Fuckin say ‘thank you,’” tone low and almost unfeeling. He hit you again. “I fuckin’ said, say ‘thank you,’” he repeated much angrier and lounder than before.

“Thank you! thank you, please … I’m sorry,” you warbled out.

“Now she says sorry too? I could have had your lips on my cock, I could have cum down your throat and now you wanna say sorry?”

You looked up at him from your horizontal position on the crates, he looked at you with frustration and anger and then … amusement? What was he thinking?

“Why don’t I return the favor? Then we can see how you fuckin like it.”

He knelt down in front of you and threw your legs open to access your weeping slit. Wasting no time, he dove into your waiting sex. His tongue flicks over your clit. He quickly sucks and circles your sensitive bud over and over again in a pattern that as you cry out in pleasure.

“Yes – yesyesyesyes please that so – that’s so good please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t stop, opting instead to push two fingers into you curling them upwards to hit that spot he knows will drive you absolutely insane. Feeling the warmth and softness of your pussy almost drives him feral. He wants badly to push his dick into you, but he’d rather save that for later.

“Listen to you baby girl, thats a good fuckin girl for me.” He pushes his tongue in between your wet folds, his large red nose finding purchase on your already very sensitive clit. It wasn’t going to take much more.

“You gonna cum, hmm? You wanna cum for Daddy?”

All that you could muster were a few good yes’s before you felt that chord in your body tighten to a near snap and then … he was gone.

“No! No! Why why – why did you?” tears fell down your face. There was nothing left, the entire orgasm he built came tumbling down around you and all he did was stand there stroking his painfully hard cock, if working you up had turned him on, ruining your orgasm made him absolutely inconsolable.

“Baby, do you remember our safe word?” He asks.

You nod. Bottom lip swelling out and eyes filled with tears. Your skirt was still pulled up around your waist and somewhere along the way your top lifted up your to expose more of your gorgeous body. You were a vision in runny mascara.

“You can still say it,” he said. “You say it,” he stood closer to you cupping your swollen face in his hand gently. “And I’ll slow down, I’ll be gentle with you from now on, okay?”

You were frustrated, teary eyed, exhausted, but you still hadn’t cum and if there was one thing you wanted more than anything it was for that fire inside of you to be lit, stoked, and snuffed by him.

“But,” you said, eyebrows pressing together into a look of innocent perfection. “My favorite holiday is Halloween.”

After that, something in him snapped. Buggy pulled your hips to the ends of the shipping crates begging whatever God he could think of that the prop team made these to be sturdy. He pressed himself to your entrance and, when he was all lined up, snapped his hips into you.

“Oh fuck – you are so fucking tight, God damn shit baby you are gripping me so – so tight. Keeping this sweet little pussy to yourself? Wasn’t going to tell me about how good it grips my cock? Fuck baby, Daddy is going to need you to come soon okay?”

He could hardly hold back, slamming his aching cock into you over and over. All he can do is watch your little face contort and twist and moan out in pleasure. The sounds you make, not just the ones that fall from your lips but that dirty slapping and wet squelch of your pussy around his dick is enough to nearly send him over.

As for you, Buggy could feel that you weren’t going to last much longer. The random little flutters and squeeze of your pussy around him fell into a rhythm. Soon you’d be crying and screaming out for him. And God, did he want to hear you scream.

He moved his hand to your clit so he could rub quickly over it hoping to get you there fast, a prayer that would be answered by a tightening of your already vice like pussy.

“There we go, thats my fuckin good girl – good fuckin girl for Dadddy. Cum for your Captain, slut. Fucking cum for me.”

His words of encouragement were all you needed to finally let ago, the pirate clown spilling hot ropes of cum inside along with you.

“Oh – oh my God,” you breathed out slowly and steadily.

“It’s, Buggy baby, though I suppose I’ll also accept God,” he smirked.

He helped you off the crate and worked in putting you back together. Handing you a makeup wipe to clean your face, you gave him a confused and somewhat skeptical look.

“What? I am wearing like three pounds of makeup on my face. Are you surprised I keep a couple of these on me?” he said.

After cleaning you up, Buggy pulled out his phone to make a call. He led you through some backstage hallways to the very back of the haunted house and waited with you there, finally someone picked up.

“Hey Caleb,” he said. You spun around to face him dramatically, a shocked expression plastered itself there. “No, no I think she really enjoyed the main attraction. Okay … yep lot F … okay she’ll be here.”

He hung up.

“Are you joking? You know Caleb?”

“Yea, gorgeous, everybody does.”

“I –” he cut you off

“My understudy has been covering for me for too long, pretty girl, I gotta get back to work.” He slowly began to shut the backdoor. “See ya next Halloween, yea?” And with a wink he was gone.

“Yo!” you turned to see Caleb sauntering up to you. “Did you get kidnapped?” He said with a mocking tone.

“Did you plan this?” you asked somewhat horrified.

“I thought you guys would get along, sue me.” said the green haired man.

“Well we did, so good call.” You said, blushing and staring at the ground. “Where is everybody?”

“We all split up a bit after getting off this ship thing. Marnie and Lete went off on their own after I introduced Blake to one of the makeup artists. And I’ve just been stalking around, you know, reliving the glory days.”

“They serve food here right?” you asked, walking back through the gap in attractions to get to the main thoroughfare. “Yea, they do,” he said, following behind you. “I bet we can find you something to snack on, pretty girl.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚

taglist: @max-505 @kurinhimenezu

#scareactor!buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy fanfic #buggy smut #buggy x you #buggy opla #buggy x y/n #captain buggy #buggy d clown #kinktober

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abilouwrites · 1 year ago

Text

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL

Mat Barzal x fem!oc

Series Masterlist

(TW: drinking)

Three

I don’t like going out often, going out is a once in a blue moon occasion. I’m scared; but also nervous. Nervous because what if— if he is the one who unravels my plans. Makes me want to fall in love again. I’m so focused on the what ifs as I stare at myself in the mirror, wondering if the baggy jeans look good with this white cropped tee.

Mat Barzal sent you a text !

I click my phone open and read through the message

Mat Barzal

Hey; I know I said I would pick you up and I’m so sorry that I can’t tn. My friends girlfriend said she was willing to bring you. She’s super nice I promise. I’ll meet up with you as soon as I can. Pinky swear ❤️

Emma Miller

No yeah that’s alr

What do I talk to her about tho…

Mat Barzal

She likes books!! She’s the one I got Romeo and Juliet for!

It was her bday!!

That and I needed a reason to talk to you

Emma Miller

K, does she have my info?

Mat Barzal

Yeah I can send it to her rn; are you cool wearing my jersey?

Emma Miller

I’ll wear it, as long as it’s clean?

Mat Barzal

Ofc it’s clean, I gtg but I can’t wait to see you.

I feel a little bad for leaving him on seen but I did get his message; I go back to curling my hair and doing my makeup. I feel a brush of butterflies in my stomach.

I need to shut that down ASAP, but I really want to enjoy this. Because I know how it’s going to end.

607-914-9290

Hey Emma, I’m mats teammates girlfriend; what’s ur address so I can come pick u up 😨😨 also my name is Kasra

Emma Miller changed 607-914-9290 name to Kasra

Emma Miller

Yeah! Ok

Emma Miller shared her address

Kasra Bahman

Ok ok!! Can’t wait to see you 😍

I like her, she seems nice. I apply a little more blush before putting in my gold hoops before doing a little spin in the mirror. Af1s and a white leather backpack to carry some essentials in. Tampons, gum, tiny mascara, brush, perfume. Pepper spray. Everything a girl could ever need.

My phone buzzes and I do one last check in the mirror before walking out of my apartment and smiling as I see a girl wave at me. Her dark hair set into waves, wide eyes and those perfect eyebrows.

“Hey hey” Kasra smiles, “it’s so nice to finally meet you. Don’t tell anyone but Mat talks about you quite a bit”

I laugh and buckle myself up as we start the drive to the arena, “don’t take this as rude— but why are you picking me up instead of Mat?”

“Oh, yeah.. sometimes at home games the islanders have the team like do media management and walk ins. He was bummed not being able to pick you up” She says, leaning back a bit, “Bo was bummed out too; because usually he picks me up but I don’t mind driving you!” She clarifies looking at my unease

“Ohh, he must be your boyfriend?” I inquire as I apply some lipgloss to my lips

“Yeah” She grins; blushing and tapping her left foot against the footwell, “hes so perfect for me”

I smile at her, “your last name is Bahman right?”

“Yeah”

“Are You— Persian?”

“Yes! I am, are you?”

“Yes!” I cheer out, “my moms name is Amira! My dads white though”

“Oh how amazing is that”

I catch up to Mat fairly quickly, “hey, here’s one of my jerseys, it’s clean. Don’t worry” he smiles at me then quickly wrapping me into a hug after I put his jersey on, “this is so embarrassing to admit out loud” he whispers into my ear

“What is?” I whisper back, wrapping my arms around his neck

“How glad I am that you’re here… and how good you look in my jersey” he is soft to admit it and I allow myself a moment to run my fingers through his hair.

“Mm, I like this too..” I reply as his hands hold my back into him.

“I’ll see you after”

I kiss his cheek and push a bit of his hair out of his face, “good luck.. be safe”

I feel so cheesy; how blushy I am. How much I want to keep my fingers in his hair and hold him forever. How well I fit into him. How my heart jumps a little every time he gets slammed into the shields.

Kasra rubs my knee, “it doesn’t get easier. If that’s what you’re thinking. But it lessens.. the anxiety” she informs, gently patting before she moves to holding my hand again

“I just— ah I don’t want him to get hurt” I confess, “this is all so new to me”

She smiles, “drink. Oh baby drink like a fish” she laughs a little and I watch as Mat almost zooms past. I’d like to thing he caught a glimpse of me and that’s why he tripped over his own skates. But I think his laces were undone.

I’m sipping my second beer when the game ends, isles winning 4 to 3. I would feel bad for the Devils as they’re my home team but.. I’m proud of mat.

I follow Kasra as she greets her boyfriend; wrapping him up in a swift kiss and looking him over for cuts and bruises, “hey” Mat speaks out from behind me, “how was the game? Did you have fun?” He asks as I turn around and smile at him

“Yes, yes it was fun. You got slammed hard are you like uh— ok?” I ask him as he puts a arm around my shoulders.

“Yeah; I’m fine. Can I still take you out to dinner?”

“Mmh” I hum, “I don’t really feeling like going out out if you wanted to order in or something?”

“Yeah, honestly me too. We could go to my house and watch a movie. Get pizza? I have wine” He offers

“I don’t say no to wine”

By late late into the night I’m laid on Mat’s couch fairly drunk and absolutely rounchousing half of a pizza. He’s drinking wine and we’re talking and drinking, “so you work an office job” he asks; almost astonished at my confession

“Yeah, managing market sales. It’s alright. Not anything I’m too passionate about” I admit, allowing myself a moment to lean into him, “you don’t eat the crust?” I ask. Giving him that same wide eyed look he gave me

“No. Of-course not”

“You’re insane” I gasp out taking the crust off the box and dipping it into ranch

“Ok what’s even more insane is that you eat pizza with ranch!”

I laugh; that hearty deep soul laughter that has you rolling and wheezing. It’s probably the two glasses of wine I’ve had and the shitty beer during the game but I’m laughing. Laugh so hard I can’t breathe.

Even Mat’s laughing. The kind of laugh that’s deep and makes you stare with those kind of heart eyes.

He leans in a little, his ears turned pink a little. Hand nervously getting closer to mine. I can smell the wine on his breath and my heart speeds up, “I really.. really want to kiss you”

A little nob lodges into my throat. And I’m finding myself pulling away, “I can’t date you” I whisper out his eyebrows quirk, “because you’re going to want to get married and I can’t get married”

“Why.. Are you already married?” He asks. Sitting back

“No. It’s such a long story. I’m scared to get married. And you seem like the guy who wants to get married”

He nods slowly, “I do. But I also really like you” he admits, “I’ve come into that bookstore like seventeen times hoping to see you”

“I-“ I put my heads in my hands

“Emma. I really want you to be my girlfriend. And if that’s something you don’t do then I guess that’s ok”

“I- but what if you want to get married” I ask him, looking up at him

“I don’t need to be married. I don’t even know if I want to get married” he admits, “but if I do. I’m mature enough to communicate that. And I don’t expect to change your mind or anything”

I lean back, “I’m scared I’m going to fall so in love with you and you’re going to break my heart. Shatter it right into bits”

“I’m already in love with you, I’ll try not to. I will” He says, “and you can be my girlfriend forever. You never have to be my wife unless that’s something you want”

“I..” I nervously pick at my fingers, “I can try— I’ve been told I’m not the best girlfriend”

“Can I Kiss You?”

“Yeah. Yes you can kiss me”

#hockey #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #louiseabilenewrites #mat barzal #mat barzal my beloved #mat barzal edit #mat barzal fic #mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal fluff #mathew barzal x reader #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal #how you get the girl mat barzal #new york islanders hockey

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transboysokka · 1 year ago

Text

What Am I Doing With My Life:

Chris watches Twilight New Moon for the first time

Okay “”new moon”” this must be the werewolf one then

These violent delights have violent ends omg don’t ruin a good quote Bella

Girl where are you is this the handmaids tale

Anyway she’s looking good

Suddenly having a delayed reaction to the end of the last movie when Jacob is like “my dad paid me to tell you to break up with Edward” like lmao what was that

Daddy Charlie

Nice to see an evolution to their relationship though

Also thank GOD the terrible blue color grading seems better

Digital cameras lmao remember when

Do her friends just like avoid Edward lol

Anyway the real reason Edward won’t turn her yet is he wanted her to be legal first

Oh no “Jacob” and the pushing her hair behind the ear

Yikessss

Hey aren’t dreamcatchers Ojibwe in origin

Alice and Bella are crushing on each other

Wait what can jasper do does he have any discuss ability or

Not to ONLY be nitpicking but usually Romeo and Juliet is part of the grade 9 curriculum in most us states, not grade 12

Oh my goddddd is that good omens guy, I’d know that nose anywhere

Bella’s gonna hurt edward so bad isn’t she lol

Her wanting to be a vampire is already getting so annoying though

why is she having a midlife crisis about being 18 like come on

Damnnnn they can’t even control themselves if she gets a paper cut like RUN girl

Wait is Edward like… a Christian? Lol tragic and awkward

He’s like “u wouldn’t be sexy to me if u were a vampire”

Nice (not) to see the terrible music streak continues into this film too

That shitty truck is my favorite character in this

Why does Edward keep dressing Like That

Lmaoooooo “I love you forever” “we’re skipping town, see u”

Definitely just dissociated a minute and came back like “WHY am I watching this??”

She fell asleep in the woods and now everyone’s looking for her lmao

Okay one decent song so far across two movies

Why is she so in love with Alice

Why is she so pathetic

Charlie is just Done tm and like same

“It’s just not normal, this behavior” TELL IT CHARLIE

Jessica is so real

BELLA WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING

Keep talking to Alice soooooo gay

So was Jacob NOT a werewolf at the start of the first movie? Is that what these suddenly buff comments are about?

I’ve said it before but lautners voice is SO annoying and it’s just bc it’s my hometown accent lol

Another bad song

“What’s up with you and age?” Seriously

God this weird ass edgy act

Oof three way movie date with child Jacob and awkward ass school guy

Wow this guy must be puking for a long time

Wow Jake chill Jesus

Wtf did he like JUST become a werewolf

Why is it raining for drama and sexiness

What was with all the Romeo and Juliet in the beginning… there was like apparently no thematic reason for there to be that big of a push for it

Anyway yeah Jacob doesn’t believe in shirts anymore clearly

Is this whole franchise just a gay metaphor

What is he trying to get her to remember??

Lol “it’s a huge secret” *guy gets angry and wolfs out in front of bella*

But WHY do they all need to go around shirtless lmaoooo

And why did Jacob have to cut his hair about it

Such a gay metaphor oh my god

One more good song

Oooh a good song fading into a bad song

LISTEN I know they gotta pay rpats but these weird apparitions are so overdone

Yeah this wolf thing also sounds dangerous…. Like you change if you get angry??? RED FLAG!!! REDFLAG REDFLAGREDFLAGREDFLAG

Are any of the other movies gayer than this bc if so I gotta watch them when I was maybe planning not to

Bella’s super dumb

Oh her girlfriends back

Or is this a trick

Oh lolol

Why would she just give up Jacobs secret like that lmaooo

Fuck I gotta keep watching these movies just to see what keeps going on with Bella and Alice

Wtf why would Edward call them and wtf is going on why is he so dramaticcccc

The Romeo and Juliet tie ins are coming back I’ll give credit where it’s due. Wasn’t expecting anything to actually come of it lol

They won’t even let him die lmfao he went all the way to Italy for that??

So suddenly Alice can see everything the fuck??

But can she see why kids love Cinnamon Toast Crunch

EDWARD WHY are you so goddamn dramatic

Definitely would not have expected this aesthetic from a twilight movie. It’s very action thriller

BRUH they are so confused about each other

I liked this move so much better than the first one so far and I now realize that it’s because Bella and Edward were apart for most of it lolllll

Edward put your damn shirt back on

Wow such Vampiric Council vibe

Oh yeah right why CANT Edward read Bella’s thoughts did we ever talk about that

Wow damn van helsing blood????

Damn why does EVERYONE have to be so dramatic

Oh this old song and dance again Bella just BE a human damn

What if Edward and Jacob and Bella all just fell in love together huh what then, problem solved

idk man I’d be so bored if I had to live forever with the same partner lol

wow I can’t believe I’m a nearly 30 year old man who wants to know what happens next

Like is this shit GOOD no but now I Gotta Know

#text #twilight liveblog

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hotforharrison · 6 months ago

Text

I changed my last name and relationship status on Facebook, my last name on my Gmail account, deleted all of the weekly relationship check ins I had scheduled on my Google calendar.

I went with him to drop off his work vehicle for repairs, and he started to call me his "wife," but corrected himself to his "ride."

I'm not sure why, but that in particular broke me inside a little.

It hasn't been 24 hours yet since we decided to separate, and he told me I needed to stop talking about "relationship stuff" and seemed annoyed that I've been crying so much.

He needed some time, and I left him alone.

He plans to start moving his stuff over to his girlfriend's house, who lives in our neighborhood, this weekend.

Once he's done moving his things, I'm free to do what I want with his room, but I'm going to leave it empty and never go into it. It's not going to stop being "his" room.

I can't sleep in the master bedroom without him because it's "ours." It always has been and always will be in my mind and my heart.

I'm going to live in a house of the ghosts of him and "us."

He promised me that he's not ghosting me, will come back at least once a week to stay here overnight and see me in more than just passing in addition to that.

We've agreed that I can stay here for 4 years, until I've paid off my debts. I'll need to figure out what I'm doing by then as far as living arrangements go.

He plans on turning this house into a rental, so if I meet a man and end up wanting to cohabitate and decide to stay here, it would be possible for him to move in with me, or for me to get roommate(s) and share expenses.

I'm not going to date again until next year. I need the 8 months to continue losing weight, taking care of myself mentally and physically, and be me in the singular. I've been an "us," a "Mel and" for 17 years.

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piedoesnotequalpi · 11 months ago

Note

12, 17, 18, 29 for the ask game! - @pigeonwit

Hi Pidge :)

12. How many WIPs do you have in your docs for next year?

I've had to be very careful about WIPs due to working on How It Will Be! So in terms of WIPs that actually have things written, there's HIWB (of course) and a Sprace meet cute one-shot inspired by this swing dance video I've seen floating around tumblr. I have documents with some planning notes, but I haven't actually started writing those, and some of them are Bachelorette AU tie-ins that I can't really write until HIWB is done. I still need to write my exchange and mini bang fics, but those don't have documents yet (😬)

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

Race! I've given him a lot of roles--a depressed, somewhat emotionally constipated professor (in a fic I ultimately hid on AO3 (I can dig up the tutorial on how to do that for anyone who wants it)); Jack's scheming best friend/roommate (Take the elephant by the hand); an offputting not-quite-human (Still Through the Leaves); and of course the over-the-top Bachelorette host. It's been cool to figure out how his personality traits manifest in each AU, and I am very excited to make him go through some stuff in the next couple chapters of HIWB.

Honorable mention to Crutchie, because while he cares a lot about his friends he is also a menace, which is always entertaining. In the Much Ado-niverse, he has a very specific way of talking (gratuitous fancy words, mostly) that I really enjoy writing, but given his different background/career choices/interests in HIWB I didn't think it made sense to carry that over.

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

I don't know if it's trouble necessarily, but out of all the non-POV characters in HIWB, Albert has consistently had the most going on behind the scenes, as it were. But because he isn't a POV character, everything we know about him comes exclusively from dialogue and how the POV characters interpret his actions. Figuring out what he was thinking/feeling in the more emotionally charged scenes while also figuring out how much of that he'd want to reveal (and what characters figure out) was definitely an interesting process. I rewrote the scene in the Reykjavik chapter where he and Charlie first kissed at least 3-4 times because I was so worried about getting it right.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

There are a lot of one-liners that I really like, and there's a scene early-ish in HIWB where Jack is being a bi disaster about Davey and Katherine that I think is fun, but my favorite has to be the opening of chapter 8 in the now-hidden fic I've referenced. Race is a trans guy in that AU, and he spends some time before he realizes that he's trans questioning his sexuality, and this scene is the aftermath of some of that pre-transition questioning going slightly sideways. Anyway, the scene is under the cut (Race is referred to with she/her due to the scene taking place pre-realization):

After Race broke up with her girlfriend, she went back to the half of a duplex that she shared with a couple perpetually absent medical students and shut herself in her room.

Dating Amelia had been–Not an experiment, Race reminded herself. You really thought you liked her. Amelia was also a PhD student, luckily in the robotics engineering department and therefore far enough removed from Race’s statistics program for them to have space post-breakup. They were friends, and Race had enjoyed spending time with her–except for the small problem that she’d eventually realized she wasn’t actually attracted to her.

Jack and David coming out senior year had turned out to be a catalyst for the rest of their friend group. Sarah had announced she was a lesbian part way through college, and Albert and Finch had both come out as gay and ended up in an on-and-off friends with benefits situation that Race tried to avoid knowing the details of. Charlie had said a couple years ago that he was still figuring things out, but between his friends, job, and disability rights activism, he thought he was probably too busy to date anyway. Even Spot and Katherine, who’d spent most of their lives struggling to fit the pictures their parents had of them, had come out to the general public via Facebook post on the same day in the fall. Which left Race, theoretically the token straight of the group, who was read as a lesbian even more now that she’d cut her hair short, donated the last dress and underwire bra in her closet, and wore as much L.L. Bean clothing as she could get her hands on.

She had thought that maybe she’d missed something along the way, that she really was secretly bisexual and had been in denial the whole time. She was sure she was interested in men–she’d had a few boyfriends in undergrad, and then there was the yearslong, semi-latent crush on–

No.

Race swallowed, staring vacantly at the collage of pictures she’d hung on her wall. There was her with Jack and Medda at her college graduation, her and Albert and David at a surprisingly quiet beach on the Cape, a picture of her undergrad dance troupe performing, and right in the middle, a picture of her sitting on a couch–she didn’t even remember where it was taken at this point–next to–

There was a chance that she just hadn’t found the right person in Amelia. But Race didn’t want to date another girl, knowing that she probably would just end up discovering she wasn’t attracted to them in the first place.

She and this theoretical girl deserved better.

#pidge!#asks #ask game #thanks for sending this! in typical me style the answers got long #whoops #anyway #bachelorette au

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betsey-laurens-hamilton · 2 years ago

Text

midnight, midday, dusk, and dawn.

an elams oneshot inspired by this post. everyone say thank you @ot3muse

“Shhh… shh… quiet, [???], cry.”

[???] won’t do that, not even if [???] to!”

“Me neither.”

New York City wasn’t known for being the quietest of places, but the nights were fairly generous surrounding John Laurens’ apartment building. Though he had dreaded his choice to pick one of the lowest floors to live in – the second one, to be exact – more times than considered healthy, it made for a nice change every now and then. Detailed sights for drawings, people gossiping and talking about their lives just loud enough for him to hear, pet-parents walking their dogs and looking weirdly similar to them, people living their lives in parallel all while John had the quiet little pleasure of being no more than a passive observer on all of this.

This night, however, it wasn’t any of this that caught his attention. Half-whispered voices apparently shushed each other not under his balcony, but under the other window in his room, one that faced the next building and stared down at an alleyway.

John wasn’t exactly a night owl. He woke up early every single day, went out for a run and headed to med school. Like any aspiring doctor, however, he was doomed to sleepless nights and therefore doomed to hear his neighbors’ nightly activities.

Eh, they weren’t always this pleasant.

“No, no, you can’t be alone here. Go inside, grab [???] and come back.”

“Okay!”

“Be quick!”

“I will. You be careful.”

John peered through his window. A woman was just rushing inside and he could only see her black jeans, but the man was still there, knelt down just by the alley’s opening. He leaned over something, probably their object of discussion, with his ginger hair in a ponytail – which was, by the way, the only detail that made John recognize him from their bump-ins on elevators, or on their ins-and-outs of the building. He was usually a smiler, nice, polite and was on the streets leaning over some sort of cardboard structure at two in the morning.

He kept saying something, different things, but they were all too low for John to hear.

Not very long later, the figure in black jeans and a black top returned, holding a big purse and letting go of a heavy breath she seemed to be holding for a while. John could also recognize her, especially by her long wavy dark hair and the ever-present tender undertone in her voice.

“I got it.”

The ginger looked at her and when he leaned against the wall of his building, John could finally see what they had been speaking about all this time: a box of kittens.

“You got a bag full of every different food and milk you could find in your house?”

“No, I got us a way to smuggle them in,” she knelt down too, opening the purse and immediately taking a little fluff ball in her hands, which John thought she was going to hide, but she just held it instead

“You’re crazy”

“No, you’re crazy. I told you I can’t leave them here. I couldn’t even if it would save my life.”

“It probably would right now, considering you signed a contract that strictly forbids you from bringing in a pet, and you’d be bringing… four,” he counter-argued. “But I wasn’t planning on leaving them here, I thought we could take them to a vet.”

“Open right now”

“It exists.”

“We should just br…”

Enough. John left his window, didn’t bother to do anything more than throw a coat over his pajama pants and tank top, rushed through his apartment, unlocked the door, and took the stairs down.

He didn’t exactly know what he was doing, but it differed from the extremely boring night he was having, which had been dedicated to nothing more than studies about shoulder injuries – a 60-page slideshow, by the way. Plus, there were cats, tiny little cats in need of help, and John knew his fair share of organizations dedicated to taking stray animals in and sheltering them. He even made sure at least one of these, which had been created by his ex-girlfriend, was kept in good shape and always had enough food for all of their pets.

Discreetly, John opened the back door of the building and faced both of them from a distance. The woman looked like a deer in headlights and tucked the box beside her, hiding the kitten she had in her hand behind the enormous bag she had brought. The man, who was now standing, simply strategically stepped in front of the box, in a way it covered the exact spots she didn’t manage to hide.

Huh. What a good mischievous little pair they made.

“Hey, may I help you?” He spoke first, keeping a surprisingly calm tone.

John just stared at them for a few seconds. Oh, yeah, talking.

“No, no. I’m here to help you. I heard you from the window,” now, that sounds creepy. “I live on the second floor. Neither of you are very good at whispering, and the acoustics here don’t help your case.”

The brunette girl looked around and up the walls of the building, but stayed quiet.

“Oh, no, don’t worry. We aren’t doing anything that needs help, we’re just heading back.”

“You’re sneaking a box of kittens in.”

“We weren’t planning on…”

“Yes we were!” She finally spoke. “I had convinced you. We’re taking them. And your help would be very appreciated.”

The ginger sighed, closing his eyes, scrunched up face of frustration.

“…You’re not planning on telling on us, right?”

John raised his eyebrows. So that had been an unplanned attempt at protecting them with a lie from a possible snitch. Smart, however useless it might have been.

“What? No. I want to help, really. I love animals, I have some cat food at home,” John mentioned, getting a confused look from both of them. “It’s a long story. I just bought it to donate- you know what, it’s a story for later. We have to go in, come on.”

The girl briefly tucked the cardboard box twice and stood up with it in hands, looking overly proud of herself. She grinned a bright smile at the ginger man, who looked away from her with a frown and a huff. John just watched, fairly entertained, and wondered whether they were a couple and he just never happened to see them together.

“You have to trust more freely”

“That was luck. I was trying to protect the cats.”

“That wasn’t luck,” she retorted. “That was my sorceress-y intuition. I’m a witch. I just knew.” She shrugged, playful, and stuck out the box of sleeping kittens to John. “Could you hold this, please?”

“Yeah.”

He took the box, at last being able to take a good look at them. It was a scrappy old box with no padding, no blanket, and four little adorable kittens. All four of them cuddled up in each other’s warmth, breathing and well. John gently reached out and pet one, picking the blonde kitten, who immediately reacted and scared him to death, leading John to think he had woken them up. Considering how loud kittens can be, he was fairly scared the woman in black would kill him if he had, in fact, woken it up.

“You look like you saw a ghost,” The ginger pointed, a slight smile in his voice.

Before John could respond, she came back to meet them with the big black bag in hands, opening it to reveal a fluffy pillow. Amazing. It would not only keep the cats comfortable, but also avoid the bag from closing in on them. The man seemed surprised too, but didn’t say anything out loud. John almost giggled.

Gently, both of them took the kittens from his box – blonde, black and two calicos – two at a time, and put them inside the bag.

“I’m sorry, but what are your names?”

“I’m Alex.”

“Eliza.”

“Good, I’m John. Should we, like, pretend we’re arriving together or something to avoid suspicion?”

“Well,” Eliza spoke up. “I’m almost in full dance attire, you’re in pajamas and Alex over here looks like… an avid reader at a Harvard library, so I think we should just get in through the back door and hope for the best.”

So that's what it was. Dance attire with jeans over them. But yeah, she was right.

“Okay, fine, get in,” John moved out of the way and quickly looked around for a trash can to toss the box in, which he spotted pretty quickly. No more awful cardboard homes for these babies. “We’ll head to the second floor.”

The ride upstairs, short as it was, was surprisingly comfortable for three strangers. Well, actually, he still couldn’t tell whether they were a couple or not. What he could tell was that Eliza was an absolute natural at breaking the ice and Alex an expert at niceties. That really made things easy on John, considering his social skill levels were probably somewhere around negative thirteen.

How did people just grow up to be so good at it, and so nice to be around?

“You said you had cat food,” Eliza broke through John’s passive observer atmosphere. “Why is it? Do you have a secret army of cats at home?”

Alex snickered quietly. John opened his door, letting them in.

“No,” John chuckled, “I fund an organization dedicated to sheltering stray animals. Sometimes I buy the food myself, and I happened to have bought a lot last weekend. Didn’t have time to take it there this week, but I guess that was some divine plan so these kittens would have something to eat. Don’t mind the mess, by the way.”

“Mess?”Alex exclaimed, sounding a little outraged.

Well, it was a mess. To him, at least. There were a few unpacked boxes around the living room, books on the dining table and so many things out of place. Even the throw blankets were misplaced.

“Dry food won’t do though,” Eliza chimed in, sounding a little amazed after his explanation. That was sweet.

“I have wet food too. I think that’ll work, considering their age.”

“Amazing! I knew you’d be a good person to trust. You’re even better than I could’ve imagined, really, what are the odds?”

“Fine, your witchy intuition got us someone great, you win.” Alex admitted, silently asking for the bag. “Let’s see them.”

He placed the bag on the floor, opening it to reveal the cats. They were mewing by now, probably because their bodies had warmed up a little bit and they could dedicate their warmth to something other than surviving.

“I’m going to get the food and warm some water.”

“Oh, hi babies…”

Eliza knelt down and Alex followed soon after, both their eyes sparkling just from looking at the little cats. It was a pity to leave the sight, but John was strong enough and turned on his heel to head to the kitchen. He wanted to get them cleaned up as well as fed as soon as possible.

So he closed the drain hole of the laundry room’s sink and turned the water on, leaving it to fill up like a bathtub while he prepared the food. John could hear Alex and Eliza quietly talking in the living room, giggling about the fact that they had actually snuck pets into their building. Eliza sounded excited. Alex sounded like he was containing his excitement and failing miserably. Cute dynamic.

Out of what probably were a hundred bags of wet cat food, John picked one of the smaller ones and spread it on two different saucers. So the cats wouldn’t run over one another. He also prepared a third one with a little bit of milk.

“Dinner time!”

All the cats mewed, walking around a little clumsily with their little legs at this point. Only one calico was still sleeping comfortably – in Alex’s lap.

“He can’t get up,” said Eliza, smiling. “Bring it here!”

John spread the saucers on the floor (yes, he had managed to carry all of them; everything is possible when you grow up taking care of four siblings) and sat near the couple-not-couple. All the kittens, even the one who was asleep, rushed to get food and milk.

“They’re so hungry.”

“Yeah. Hey, are you a couple? Or, like, do you know each other? Or did you just happen to be strangers who flawlessly rescued four kittens together?”

Eliza chuckled.

“You were part of this mission too, give yourself some credit. But, no, we’re not a couple and we don’t know each other. I learned his name the exact same moment you did.”

You should be a couple, John thought. Was that weird? I mean, no, right? Sometimes people just looked like they matched. That was normal.

“I knew her name,” Alex added. “I heard the doorman saying it a few times. I think he’s hitting on her.”

“What?! No,” she exclaimed, and was followed by a suggestive raise of Alex’s eyebrows. “He’s not! This is just, like, overall kindness.”

“I mean, yeah, but he didn’t do that to me. Did he do that to you?”

“Nope.” John chuckled.

“See?”

“No, no, no. People do that to show they’re being attentive. That they pay attention.”

“And… why is he being attentive to one person only?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Because I’m kind? I mean, I know your names, and now I’ll know them every time I talk to you. You’re John and Alex…ander. Please tell me your name is Alexander and not just Alex.”

“It is.”

Nice. Alexander is a beautiful name.

“That’s my witchy intuition. And my kindness.”

“Did you learn his name? The doorman’s?” John asked.

“…Yes?” She paused again… they just stared at her, holding in smiles. “I was just being kind back! How is that wrong?!”

“It’s not wrong, it’s just flirting!” Alex laughed.

“Stop, nooooo!” Eliza covered her ears, shaking her head. “No, no, I don’t want to think I’m leading someone on just because I learned their name! How can that be flirting?! People are so weird!”

Both of them laughed at her. Then a noise came from the kitchen and the three looked fairly confused – until John realized what it was and rushed to get up.

“Oh my god the sink! I left the faucet running!”

He rushed past them, being overly careful when running by the kittens, and finally got to the kitchen, turning it off. John sighed, hands on his hips, looking at the mess. Though not too much water had spilled, it was still enough to be dangerous in case he didn’t clean it. Lord knew how careful they would be around spilled water.

Speaking of them, Alex and Eliza showed up with the four well-fed kittens, some happily obliging and the others struggling in their arms, probably wanting to explore the apartment.

“We brought them. Do you want help?“ Eliza asked, handing him the blonde kitten. Did she know he’d taken a liking to it?

“No, no, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it, just- step back, I don’t want anyone slipping.”

“Alex chuckled. John searched for the floorcloth.”

“It’s just a little bit of water.”

“Do you know how many people die slipping on water every year?”

“No. Do you?”

“…A lot, probably. What I do know is a lot of people get concussions from tripping, and falling, and…”

Eliza took the cloth from his hand as soon as he got it, handing him the black kitten in exchange.

“Go clean them. I’ll take care of this.”

She knelt down and got to wiping.

“She’s stubborn. I wouldn’t go against her.” Alex smirked, playful.

“You’ve known me for like twenty minutes!” She looked up, frowning.

“You never get a second chance to make a first impression. And my first impression of you was a girl who would not bend on her idea of smuggling four kittens inside a building that does not allow pets,” he teased.

She just stared at him. Then squinted. Then huffed and got back to cleaning, clearly hiding a smile.

Alex, on the other hand, was grinning like he had just won a contest.

“And who will not admit she’s stubborn,”he added, only to get slapped in the ankle by a wet cloth and giggle like a child in response.

John couldn’t help but smile too, getting to work on the first kitten while Alex held the other three. He gently spread a collar of soap around the kitten’s neck, then dipped his body underwater, leaving only the head out.

Alexander seemed intrigued.

“Why did you do that?” He pointed to the cat’s neck.

“It’s to, uh,“ he chuckled, “stop the fleas that are in his body from coming to his head, trying to escape the water. They don’t get through the soap, so they just die underwater.”

“Merciless.” Eliza added, standing up and getting rid of the cloth.

“No mercy for the little freaks. Then you wash their body and gently scrub their head and faces with wet fingers to kill any other fleas that might have been there already. Just like that,” he demonstrated. “And then, done. Can you dry him with a towel? Not the wet dirty cloth, preferably.”

He handed it to Eliza, who was holding the black kitten again, he noticed. She snickered, rolling her eyes, and gave him the black cat in exchange for the blonde one.

“Oh, no. There goes my plan of wetting the cats even more. Where are the towels?”

“Uhh, third door from left to right, eye-level. Yes, right there.”

They spent quite a few minutes doing just that, washing the cats, drying them; at some point, when Eliza’s arms were getting too full of wet slippery kittens, John told Alex to get one big pillow inside one of his closets to use as a little bed. So she was now humming on the carpet, with three kittens laying in a soft, fluffy pillow waiting for their sister. Oh, yeah, and John had figured there were two male kitties (the orange and black) and two females (the calicos).

“This lady is spicy.”

Alex left with the final calico kitten, and John came soon after opening the drain again, allowing all the dirty water to run off.

“Lay her here. I was thinking we could name these two Midnight and Midday. How funny would that be?” She pointed to the darker one and the lighter one.

“We shouldn’t be naming kittens that can’t be ours,” Alex said, the voice of reason, “but… that is literally perfect. And so cute. The other two should be Dusk and Dawn, in between.”

John thought Eliza might actually tear up after hearing that, but she was just very expressive in her awe. He was melting too, to be honest.

“What do you think, John?”

Yes. Stop that passive observer thing, for god’s sake.

“I think it’s perfect. It fits them. The sky siblings.”

“Hah. That’s almost my name. Schuyler. Sky. They’re my biological children.”

Oh my god, Schuyler.

“Wait,” Alex interrupted her. “Schuyler? As in Senator Schuyler?!

“…Yes?” She sounded surprised. “Do you know my father?”

“Your father? God- Of course I do! Her father is the senator!”

“…I know. My father is Henry Laurens.”

Alexander might pass out. Eliza was completely shocked too.

“You’re Henry Laurens’ child?!” She asked, wide-eyed, and gestured at him. “But- but…”

“I know, I know,” He chuckled through a sigh. “It’s hard on both of us.”

She chuckled, gently scrunching her eyebrows together. Eliza was starting to look a little tired.

“I cannot believe the odds,” Alex was still very, very shocked. Cute. “What the hell?! I’m a law student. I work for Washington.”

“Ah, Washington, nice guy… He knows my name, he’s kind. He’s always like, oh, hello, Miss Elizabeth Schuyler,” Elizabeth. And she came up with a little fancy voice. Cute too. “Wait, so you’re actually, like, a Harvard kind of person. My intuition is on fire!”

“I haven’t got the opportunity to meet Washington yet. He sounds nice,” John added.

He had… gotten the opportunity. Through his father. Quite a few times. Just never attended it.

“Oh, yeah, he can be. He will not believe his ears when I tell him about this.”

“Yeah, and… wait. We should figure out what we’re doing with the kittens.” Eliza said.

“I thought we had agreed that John’s shelter was the solution?”

“No, no, I mean tonight.”

Alex raised his eyebrows. John eyed around.

“…They can stay here if you’d like? I mean, it’s no bother at all.”

Eliza looked a little disappointed. She wanted to take them home.

“I mean, we could, but… just today, what if we all spent the night with them? I mean, it’s not like people will hunt us down for that. They won’t even know.”

Alex hummed, his eyes betraying his sensibility and showing just how excited he really was. I mean, it really wouldn’t do harm, would it? Eliza seemed to have liked the newly-named Midnight more than she should, Dusk and Dawn had absolutely warmed up to Alex, and it would be a blatant lie to say John didn’t feel attached to Midday himself.

It sucked that they wouldn’t be theirs anymore tomorrow.

“It can’t hurt,” John grinned.

“Yes! Eliza celebrated, “Alex?”

“Fine, yes. Can I take Dusk and Dawn? They can’t be separated, look at that”

They were cuddling, forming a little heart shape together.

“I want Midnight. And I think John likes Midday. You’re both blonde.”

They chuckled, it was true. Alex yawned. They were tired, and so was he.

“Okay, so we have an agreement. I really think you should hide them on your way to your apartments, though. I mean, there are cameras everywhere, I wouldn’t want the landlords to have solid proof to get you evicted.”

“Midnight could definitely be mistaken by my black clothes, but I don’t think it’ll be the same for Dusk and Dawn.”

“I can’t believe we actually named them that,” John chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll get a coat. Wait here.”

John left and came back with not one, but two coats. A forest green sweater he barely used with a big pocket on the front, and a dark blue cardigan with stars and two pockets on the sides. Though it would make more sense the other way around given the number of cats they were taking home, he really thought Eliza would fit the cardigan better and Alex the sweater. But that would be up to them.

They got up and met him, leaving the kittens on the pillow.

“Here.” He handed them the clothes and, after a moment of hesitation, each one picked the one he hoped they would. Bingo.

It really fit them better than it could ever fit him.

“Thank you. That’s the perfect disguise.” Eliza did a little spin, her long wavy brown following the motion with grace.

“Unless you see all the camera footage from today.” Alex chuckled, dressing the sweater. Admittedly, John stared just a bit. So did Eliza, he noticed. “I mean, three separate people dressed for three separate occasions bringing in a huge black bag and leaving with coats they didn’t have on? Suspicious.”

“Oh my god, the bag!” Eliza looked around, spotting the big purse. “That’s right, the bag! I don’t need the cardigan, John, I’m sorr…”

“No, no, keep it, it’s okay. We’ll have to meet tomorrow anyway. It’s a reminder for both of you.”

She smiled, looking down, and slid it back on. Was she a little shy now? Blushing?

“Okay, fine, fine. C’mere, Midnight. Cutie”

The three of them bent down and picked their respective kittens, which were now bathed with full bellies and very sleepy. Alex and Eliza tucked them into their pockets, but John just held his tiny Midday.

They headed to the door between sweet nothings, just talking to and about the cats and their plans. Eliza got her bag on the way, but Alex stopped on his tracks before they could step out completely.

“So, are we going to share numbers or apartments? So we can communicate? I’m on the fifth floor.”

“Oh, right!“ Eliza blinked a few times, looking more tired by the minute. “I’m on the ninth floor, let me- can I write on this paper? I’ll give you both my number.”

John nodded, he kept a few tiny notebooks along with pens throughout his house just in case he was suddenly remembered of something important and couldn’t stop to think about it or do it.

Eliza wrote down her number twice, giving half a small slip of paper (almost perfectly cut) to Alex and leaving the other on the notebook. Alex did the same. Then John gave his number to both of them.

“Okay… I think we’re good to go. Whoever remembers it first, create a group chat!” Alex called the elevator, which was still on their floor and opened right away. I mean, it was almost 3 am. People aren’t really leaving their homes right now.

“Right.” They stepped inside. Eliza waved, followed by Alex. They both had a hand inside a pocket, securing the cats. “Bye John! See you tomorrow!”

“Bye John!”

“Bye! Nice to meet you!”

He watched the elevator doors close, slowly covering their faces.

They really should date.

Immediately, John was struck with how tired he actually was. Jesus Christ. He went inside, and took a brief look at the slips of paper with numbers on his notebook.

Eliza’s penmanship balanced round and sharp edges, leaning more towards round, while Alex’s was the definition of rushed, but still charming. John’s was tidier, in his opinion, and he took quite a lot of pride in it considering he went to med school.

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iglowinggemma28 · 10 months ago

Text

Danny: *the reason he even decided to come to Gotham is he finally worked up the courage to actually tell an adult tm* about Dani and the only one that he could trust and totally not sick on Vlad without feeling guilty was his Aunt Harley and Aunt Ivy* (but also because he was planning to come clean to his parents when he gets home and having a place outside of amity to hide will make him feel better) 🤗

*sees his Aunts fighting the bats and gets distracted by realizing Red hood has Definitely died before and by the Very nice view of Red Hood’s ass 🍑* 👀😊

*Gets a date with the hot reverent who also makes death jokes AND GETS HIS PHONE NUMBER* 🤩

*his aunt and her super awesome girlfriend were waiting for him at home wanting an explanation about that great aunt joke before because they had a bad feeling* 😳

*sits down and explains how his parents’ old friend from college is a total creep and fruit-loop; how he’s made his Mom really uncomfortable with his flirting which his Dad has yet to notice or even realize it’s even happening; but also how on top of telling his Mom she should leave his Dad and marry him instead Vlad has repeatedly tried to get Danny to renounce his Dad and become Vlad’s son and how he keeps telling him to get lost; how he and Jazz have found Actual bugs and cameras Vlad’s put in their house (he actually brought some he deactivated as proof) and while it was bad enough before! It. Got. Worse.

Vlad unsuccessfully tried to clone him and the only clone that survived and was even a little stable was a girl aka Dani-with-an-I and said Clone/kid inherited the Meta gene from Jack and while she can definitely take care of herself and enjoys traveling because of her powers she shouldn’t have to take care of herself. Except Danny is too nervous and freaked out of what Vlad will do if he tells his parents. How Vlad has eyes and ears Everywhere in Amity…but he can’t do shit in Gotham and especially can’t to shit to the Coolest and Most Amazing Aunts in the Whole World and I’m sorry didn’t say something sooner but I really need the help*

Jason manages to get Danny to slow down and take a deep breath before continuing… *how Vlad has no intention of taking ANY responsibility for Dani. Despite being the one to create her and straight lying to her that he cares about her so she would help him get a better DNA sample from Danny to help stabilize her so he could create a clone son he would actually love and care for before throwing her away. How while their relationship ranges from cousin to siblings to straight up seeing her as his daughter, Danny really cares about Dani and her wellbeing and how despite giving her a burner phone his friend bought for her and strict check ins every other week or whenever she wants to bug him, send him a picture or selfie, etc…he’s constantly worried about her because physically can’t do much because he’s a fuckin high school student who’s barely getting his grades back up. So would he wonderful awesome oh so loving Aunts consider letting him introducing them to Dani and try to convince her to maybe let them take care of her…just until Danny graduates and then he can get a job and start sending money til he’s more stable and then….

Harley stops him right there and tells him you are 💯 going to at least try college. Come on Sweetie, deciding to take responsibility for a kid shouldn’t mean he should just give on on higher education! Not when you have us! Come on think of how cool and proud their lil’ niece will be if her big brother/dad is an astronaut…

She trails off when she notices Danny shrinking in his seat.

There’s actually a pretty big reason he can’t be an astronaut…not anymore and not the normal way….

By the end of the talk Harley has a very important appointment with her bat and THE BAT because if he doesn’t fix this heads are going to roll…

Danny, Jazz with Aunty Harley

So Harley met them before she went crazy and hot, and afterwards they visited her in jail sometimes.

Then one day Danny comes to visit her cuz " i haven't seen her so long and it's been boring here since i got crowned"

Harley was mid fight with the Bats and Ivy after a date night gone right duh.

In comes Danny waving

"AUNTY HARLEY!!! YOUR FAVORITE and only NEPHEW IS HERE!! oh HI AUNTY IVY!"

everything just stops...

the bats are confused af cuz who tf is that and where did he come from

Ivy just smiles and waves back while dogging one of the bats attacks

Harley just looks done (like the face my siblings make when i did smth stupid again)

"DANNY! You again you fucking Chaos Gremlin, i haven't seen you in ages! (while trying to bash robins head in) how's Jazz? Did she not come with you? ( u know normal small talk )

Danny answering her etc while absolutely not bothered by the bats tho he be eyeing the Hoods ass more than socially acceptable.

All the while the Bats are trying to understand who is this, why is he not bothered being mid fight between them and two villains?????

I do see Jason not even fighting just watching them and noticing Danny watching his good looking peaches 🍑

So he goes to him and questions him a bit but mainly just talking with danny about some random shit and them ending up talking about weird billionaires and why they suck while harley and ivy escape.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #dead on main #dead on main ship

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alyswritings · 3 years ago

Note

can we get a part 2 with the toddler!sister!reader where the brothers go to question the ‘boyfriend’

The brothers were put in charge of Y/N and Peter's playdate, Nikki having to leave to go out shopping and Dominic is out of town for work.

The brothers watch as the two toddlers play in the living room.

"We need to get him alone at some point." Harry says.

"How? They're glued to each other." Sam whispers.

"I don't know. Surely we can distract her with something for a bit." Harry says.

"We could send her to her room." Paddy suggests.

"She hasn't done anything." Tom says.

"We can make something up." Paddy shrugs.

"We're not punishing her when she doesn't need it." Tom states. "That's terrible parenting."

"We're not her parents." Paddy says.

"Well, it's terrible big brothering." Tom rephrases.

"I don't think that's a word." Sam says.

"Shut up." Tom rolls his eyes. "How do we get him alone?"

He looks at his brothers expectantly.

"You told me to shut up, so." Sam says.

Tom rolls his eyes, flicking Sam in the head.

"Ow!" Sam shoves his older brother.

"Would you two stop it? One issue at a time." Harry says, swatting at both of them.

"I got an idea." Tom says. "Hey, Y/N." He gets the young girl's attention.

"What?" Y/N asks.

"Why don't you take Tess outside for a bit? We'll make some lunch." Tom says.

"Okay. Come on, Peter." Y/N says.

"No, no, Peter's going to stay with us." Tom says.

"I want to play with the dog." Peter says.

"Yes, but you're Y/N's boyfriend. Boyfriends make girlfriends lunch sometimes. This is one of those times." Tom says.

"Fine." Peter sighs.

"He's already not treating her spectacularly." Harry whispers.

"I'm not fond of him, obviously, but did you really want to help make lunch when you were four?" Sam says.

"I guess not." Harry grumbles.

After getting Y/N and Tessa outside, the brothers sat Peter at a chair by the counter, all standing on the opposite side of the counter.

"What's your full name?" Harry asks.

"What does that matter?" Tom whispers.

"So we know who to look up to find his address if he breaks her heart." Harry whispers back.

"Peter Jamison Beckett."

"When did you meet Y/N?" Sam asks.

"School." Peter answers.

"What are your intentions with our baby sister?" Tom asks.

"Huh?" Peter asks, confused by the big word.

"Are you going to hurt Y/N?" Tom asks.

"I guess not." Peter says.

""Guess not?"" Sam asks.

"Will you two ever stop being boyfriend and girlfriend?" Paddy asks. Peter shrugs.

"He's not confident in the relationship." Harry whispers.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Tom asks.

"Willy Wonka. I can own a chocolate place and eat everything." Peter smiles.

"How do you intend to start your business?" Sam asks and Peter shrugs again.

"Do you drink?" Tom asks.

"I like juice." Peter says.

"Smoke?" Sam asks.

"My mummy buys a lot of smoked ham." Peter says.

"Have you had any run ins with the police?" Paddy asks.

"No." Peter says.

"Do we have any other questions?" Sam quietly asks his brothers.

"I got nothing." Tom mutters.

"I mean, he is 4." Harry says.

"What's Y/N's favorite color?"

The four continue to quiz Peter on Y/N, Sam mentally keeping track of how many questions he gets right.

Later, Peter's mother had picked him up and now the four Holland brothers sit on the couch, the TV on, all four mostly paying attention to their phones.

Y/N is once again with Tessa outside, neither of them able to get enough of it. Nikki is in the kitchen making dinner, answering the phone to talk with Peter's mother. They talk about the young children before the boy's mother talks about an interrogation.

"Questions? What kind of questions?" Nikki asks.

"Oh, stuff like his full name, plans for the future. They asked if he drank or smoke." Emily lists. "And then quizzed him on Y/N."

"They did, did they?" Nikki asks, walking into the living room, glancing between her sons. The four notice the look in her eyes and all slouch down, as if attempting to sink into the furniture to avoid her heated gaze.

The two mothers continue their conversation for a bit more before hanging up. Nikki turns to her sons, glaring.

"What's up, mum?" Paddy asks, forcing out a nervous chuckle.

"Have you four absolutely lost it?" Nikki asks, smacking each of them on the head.

"Ow!" The four protest in pain.

"You interrogated a four year old?" Nikki questions.

"Well, we had to make sure he's right for her." Harry says.

"They're four." Nikki remarks.

"Yes, and I'm not confident the relationship's gonna work out. He didn't get, like, half the questions about her correct." Sam says.

"And he didn't wanna make her lunch." Paddy says.

"He's not confident in the relationship. He shrugged when I asked him if he thinks they'll break up. And he "guesses" he won't hurt her." Harry says.

"We should be keeping a careful eye out." Tom says.

"You four are absolutely ridiculous." Nikki says. "You're all grounded."

The four start to protest.

"Grounded! I don't care if Tom and the twins are over 18. Grounded." Nikki says. "You're doing whatever Y/N wants you to do for the next three weeks."

"Oh, come on. I don't wanna attend tea parties with her nineteen million stuffed animals." Paddy complains.

"Too bad." Nikki says, going back to the kitchen.

#tom holland #harry holland #sam holland #paddy holland #holland!sister #tom holland x sister reader #paddy holland x sister reader #sam holland x sister reader #harry holland x sister reader

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canonicallyobserving911 · 2 years ago

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Buck & Eddie: There’s no I in US or TEAM-Parallels

In 3x6 “Monsters”, Eddie explained the importance of the way Buck needs to consider “US” or the TEAM [THEM] whenever he makes a decision, after Buck told him “I” needed my job back and “I” missed being here when he made Eddie talk to him. Buck filed a lawsuit against the LAFD which prevented them from being able to talk to each other and Eddie ignored Buck or was short with him after Buck had been allowed to return to work. Eddie told him there were a lot of “I”s in his explanation and Eddie’s comment parallels with all the conversations Buck had with his ex-girlfriends during their breakups or during their non-apologies to him after they returned to L.A. for a visit. Each of Buck’s ex-girlfriends said the word “I” a lot during their conversations with him which means their idea of a relationship had never been about Buck or them as a TEAM; it had been solely about them as individuals along with what they could get from him; hence their constant use of the word “I”. The difference between Eddie and Buck’s conversation when compared against theirs is Eddie explained the importance of being a part of a TEAM with him so that Buck would realize how his actions not only affected Buck but how they also affected Eddie and Christopher too since the three of them are an US or a TEAM/FAMILY. Eddie described the way relationships are supposed to work during his conversation with Buck and Buck understood him.

GIF #1 3x6 “Monsters” After Buck told him that he just wanted Eddie to talk to him, Eddie asked him, “When you decided to sue the department, to make Cap the bad guy, did you ever stop for a minute and think of what that could do to us?” Buck replied, “Look I just…I needed my job back. I missed…I missed being here. Being part of the team. I never meant for anyone to get hurt” and then Eddie said, “There are a lot of Is in there”. He was telling Buck how all his focus during the lawsuit had been on himself instead of him considering how it would hurt Eddie and everyone else too.

GIF #2 3x6 “Monsters” Eddie said, “There are a lot of Is in there”. In 2x18 “This Life We Choose” When ex-girlfriend #2 broke up with Buck, she used the word “I” a lot when she said, “When I met you, ten stories up over a collapsing high rise” and Buck said, “Exactly!” she continued with “I’m just starting to really understand what that means”. He asked her if she wanted him to quit his job and she said, “No, I would never…I would never ask you to do that because I know it’s who you are. I’m just not sure…” and Buck replied, “If it’s who you are” and she said, “I don’t know yet”. She said the word I so much and never considered how her interpretation of their relationship would affect Buck when she broke up with him right after his leg had been crushed by a ladder truck.

GIF #3 3x6 “Monsters” Eddie said, “There are a lot of Is in there”. In 3x18 “What’s Next?” When ex-girlfriend #1 returned and never apologized for the way she treated Buck she said, “I was a person whose life revolved around everybody else’s problems. I had no identity other than the people that I was helping. I had to leave everything that I knew so that I could remember who I actually am”. Not once during her long speech to Buck of what she wanted did she apologize to him for abandoning him and not telling him she hadn’t planned to come back. He told her she deserved to be happy even though she hurt him.

GIF #4 3x6 “Monsters” Eddie said, “There are a lot of Is in there”. In 5x18 “Starting Over” ex-girlfriend #3 said, “I’m sorry you’re still upset about the story. If I hadn’t of broken it... I wasn’t trying to hurt you… I was just trying to get the truth out there…You knew who I was when we started dating”. Buck responded, “I thought I could learn to live with it”. Not once during their conversation did she take responsibility for her actions and she didn’t apologize to him. The good thing was he realized that he could be the one to end it instead of waiting for her to do it like the others had done when they broke up with him.

GIF #5 3x6 “Monsters” Eddie continued, “Your actions, your choices, they impact the rest of us. That’s what it means to be a part of a team”. He defined the attributes of being a part of a good TEAM/RELATIONSHIP for Buck and he understood.

GIF #6 3x6 “Monsters” Buck said, “You’re right. I didn’t think about what could happen”. After he told Eddie the real reason behind him filing the lawsuit was because he was mad at Bobby for not letting him go back to work; that he was also upset that they were moving on without him and there wasn’t anything he could do about it, Eddie understood Buck’s side of it too when he recognized the anger and understood how hurt Buck had been for filing the lawsuit. Buck then said “But I get it and I really am sorry. So whatever it takes for you to forgive me…” Eddie responded, “I forgive you”. They made up but that was Buck’s first apology and he apologized again for hurting US, the TEAM or THEM after a few weeks passed.

GIF #7 3x9“Fallout” Buck apologized for the second time after he realized his actions hurt both Eddie and Christopher. He said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there Eddie. You and Chris needed me and I had my head so far up my own behind with that stupid lawsuit” but Eddie said, “We’re way past that Buck” and Buck said, “I’m not! I should have been there”. Buck used a lot of “I”s during his second apology too but those “I”s were different from the ones he mentioned during his first apology because he admitted that him not being there for Eddie and Chris or US and THEM had affected all three of them. Eddie said “We’re” which means he was already considering the three of them as a TEAM/FAMILY/US.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #911 fox #911onfox #911 on fox #911 meta #911 s6 #911

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sleepysnk · 4 years ago

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OOF OKAY, I GOT THIS IDEA FROM A FRIEND ON DISCORD. i hope you guys enjoy this horny piece of smut because it definitely made me feel some type of way 😏❤.

Sleepovers

Pairings: Jean Kirstein x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, fingering, praising, voyeruism.

It was a usual Friday night for (Y/N) and her friend group.

They were having one of their annual sleepovers that took place almost every other weekend. Of course everyone now being in college, things like this were more common as there was no parental guidance involved. (Y/N) loved the idea of sleeping over with her friends and she always came whenever it was planned.

The friend group consisted of Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Connie, Reiner, Bertholdt, his girlfriend Annie, and Jean.

Jean had always had it out for (Y/N) ever since they met during her freshman year of college. He treated her differently from everyone else. (Y/N) couldn't lie and say she didn't have a crush on him, he was charming, tall, and such a huge flirt. He had everything she would have wanted in a guy.

He'd always throw a compliment her way or give her a sly smile that made her feel weak, Jean knew all the right things to do to make her feel special. He had a way with words that nobody else seemed to have.

(Y/N) always returned the favor, throwing a nice compliment his way or sending a cute flirt. Jean would always be absolutely surprised at her actions, he never took her as the type to flirt back. He always found himself winning during those flirts.

Sometimes their own friends would call them out on it, telling them to "get a room!" or "get together already!". Neither of them had the courage to confess any feelings because they were just too chicken shit for it.

The night started off fun, they picked Eren's place to spend the night which was decently cool. They all watched a movie, played games, had a bit of alcohol, and even built a pillow fort which was later destroyed by Connie and Sasha over a fight about snacks.

(Y/N) and Jean had their usual hinted comments thrown around. He didn't leave her side the whole night, he always found himself beside her or near her.

"Shit I am exhausted.." Eren said, yawning.

The night was finally dying down. Eren and Mikasa layed on the couches in the basement, Armin was already snoozing in his sleeping bag while Connie and Sasha were both knocked out. Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie were just laying down droopy eyed as the movie they watched played on the tv.

(Y/N) was next to Jean, both were wide awake.

Eren stood up, grabbing the remote from the table. "I'm hitting the hay, goodnight guys." he said, switching off the tv.

Darkness filled the room besides the small light coming from one of those scented wall plug-ins. The bathroom also had a small light which emitted from the darkness. (Y/N) heard shuffling, assuming it was Eren laying down on the couch.

The time on the small clock read 2:41 A.M.

(Y/N) tried her best to get comfortable, unlike everyone else she was struggling to fall asleep. She assumed it was because she had about three sodas and a ton of other sugar, her body was wide awake. She pulled the blanket over her body trying to at least get comfortable, but being on a floor was kind of an issue.

She opened one eye to look at the clock which now read 3:01 A.M.

She sighed, a whole 15 minutes had gone by and she still hadn't fallen asleep. She couldn't exactly go walk around Eren's place, that'd seem rude and she didn't want to wake anybody.

She shifted to the other side where Jean was, that's when her eyes were met with Jean's open ones. He was staring at the ceiling.

She blinked a bit, thinking he was sleeping with his eyes open until his gaze averted towards her.

"Can't sleep either huh..?" Jean asked, his voice low to prevent anyone from waking up.

A soft laugh came from her mouth. "No.. I blame it on all the sugar I had," she replied and looked at him.

A chuckle came from his throat. "You wanna get under the covers? We can talk until one of us falls asleep," he asked in a whisper.

She nodded and sat up, he pulled the blanket over their heads. (Y/N) used her phone flashlight to light up the blanket, her eyes squinted a bit from the bright light. Jean's hair was a bit messy from laying down, he still looked amazing.

A smile grew onto his lips seeing her. "You look pretty cute for being at a sleepover," he said, crossing his legs.

She felt heat rush onto her cheeks. "Not at all.. I feel messy and tired yet I can't sleep," she said, laughing a bit.

Jean admired her features in the lighting, he fingers slightly ghosted over her cheek. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as he touched her.

"You look adorable," Jean said, scooching his body closer towards hers. Their knees touched, making her skin tingle.

They sat there staring at each other for a few moments, suddenly they leaned into each other, their lips connecting into a warm passionate kiss. His tongue swiped along her bottom lip, asking for permission. She slightly moaned into the kiss, he took the opportunity to explore her mouth.

He cupped her cheek and brought her body closer to his. She felt heat forming in between her legs.

"You don't know what you do to me.." he whispered.

Anticipation bubbled in her stomach as he turned her flashlight off. She let out a shaky breath as her eyes closed, feeling his lips attack her neck. She felt his teeth grazing against the soft flesh of her neck, her breath hitched feeling him sucking her sweet spot.

"J-Jean.." she cried out, biting her lip trying to stay quiet.

He smirked against her skin. "Lay down for me (Y/N).." he whispered against her ear.

She lied down on her pillow, Jean's body spreading her legs apart. He put his hands on either side of her head, leaning down to engulf her into another kiss.

He began to kiss down her neck down towards her chest, then towards her belly. Goosebumps littered onto her skin feeling his wet lips against her skin, soft whimpers and moans escaped her lips.

Jean hooked his fingers around the hem of her shorts. "Can I?" he asked, raising his brows.

She couldn't faintly see the outline of his body in the darkness. "Yes.." she replied in a whisper.

He pulled her shorts down her legs, tossing them under the blanket next to them. She shuddered a bit as she felt the cooler air against her wet cunt. Jean maneuvered himself so he was now laying next to her with his head propped up by his arm.

A soft moan escaped her lips as she felt his fingers on her clit, he circled it slowly making her legs open a little wider for him. She felt jolts of pleasure shooting around her body, causing her to become a bit shaky.

They both stopped when they heard shifting coming a few feet away. Eren slightly groaned in his sleep. The two looked at each other before he continued to rub her clit.

"You gotta be quiet beautiful.. we don't need anyone hearing you," Jean whispered, nibbling at the shell of her ear. "But you're so wet.. is that what I do to you? I make your pussy soaked?"

She moved her hips upwards, biting her lip to prevent any moans from escaping her lips.

A low chuckle came from him. He slid one of his fingers into her hot core, a gasp escaped her lips feeling his finger inside of her. He covered her mouth instantly and looked around, making sure nobody got up.

He slowly pumped his finger into her, he felt the aching of his cock causing him to groan a bit as he fingered her. She dug her nails into the sheets below her, shaky breaths and small whimpers came from her mouth as he hit her g-spot.

"J-Jean.." she whimpered, moving her hips to feel more of his finger.

His finger stopped, causing her to look at him in annoyance.

"Be quiet.." he said, pressing his lips onto hers.

She moaned into the kiss when she felt two digits enter her again, the pace this time was a bit quicker.

Her velvety walls fluttered around his fingers, squelching noises came from her pussy from how wet she was.

"You're such a good girl (Y/N)... you take me so well," he whispered, his voice raspy and deep. "You want me to make you cum?"

She shook her head as she whimpered. "Y-Yes.." she replied.

He felt her walls tightening around his fingers, his pace quickened. He turned her head towards his, his eyes staring into hers.

The knot in her stomach came apart as her orgasm took over her body, she buried her face into his neck and let out a soft moan. Her legs felt shaky and her eyes saw white as she creamed around his fingers.

Jean removed his fingers which were coated in her slick arousal. He licked his fingers, savoring the taste.

"You're better than I ever imagined.." he said with a smirk on his face.

She panted a bit, pulling the covers over her body. "Jean.. will you.. cuddle up with me?" she asked, feeling heat rush onto her cheeks.

He smiled. "Of course.. who am I to deny you?" he replied and plopped down next to her.

He pulled her into his embrace, she felt exhausted after coming down from her high. Jean rubbed small circles into the flesh of her waist as he felt his eyes becoming droopy.

The next morning the two were awoken by everyone talking.

"I slept decent on the floor," Armin said and sat up.

Everyone's eyes averted towards (Y/N) and Jean who were cuddled up together, her head laying on his chest while his arms were wrapped around her waist.

Eren chuckled. "Well would you look at that? Look at that those two," he said and smirked.

"It was only a matter of time before this happened," Sasha said, yawning.

Eren laughed again before leaning back against the couch. "You should have heard them last night.. they had plenty of fun," he said as he remembered the events that occurred during the night.

(Y/N) sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Hmm?" she asked as she looked around at her friends.

"Oh nothing!" Eren replied, shaking his head.

Jean's eyes open, a slight blush formed onto his face seeing (Y/N) next to him this close.

"Ugh.. you guys are so loud," he said and groaned a bit.

Eren laughed again. "I'd like to say the same to you and (Y/N).." he said and grinned widely.

Their jaws dropped as Eren's words processed through their heads. "Ugh shit.." (Y/N) said as embarrassment rushed onto her face.

"Did you guys..?" Connie asked, furrowing his brows.

Jean snaked his arm around her waist. "None of your business," he replied.

"Look next time you guys wanna do the nasty just go upstairs," Eren said and rolled his eyes playfully.

Connie and Sasha bursted out laughing. "Ew! You guys did the nasty down here!?" Connie asked in between laughter.

(Y/N) covered her face with her hands. "Ugh Eren! You're an asshole," she said and shook her head.

"Connie stop acting like you didn't finger Sasha that one day.. I saw that," Jean said as a smirk formed onto his face.

The two both turned red. "U-Uh.. um.." Sasha said and looked away.

The conversation eventually ended and everyone went back to normal conversation. Jean and (Y/N) talked a bit longer.

"We should hangout later.. you know.. finish what we started," Jean whispered in her ear.

She smirked. "Most definitely.." she replied, kissing his cheek.

#anime #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot imagines #aot fanfiction #snk x y/n #snk x reader #snk imagines #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #jean kirstein #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #anime fanfic #aot smut

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ofwrxth · 4 months ago

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Jakob huffs a laugh, raising his brow skeptically. "Oh, for sure. Always helpful to have a sidepiece." Despite talking about having other partners on the side, their irreverent tone makes it more amusing than concerning. Offense is hard to muster with Ines – her quick wit showing her intelligence and sense of humor better than any planned out joke might. Still, Jakob's expression turns to mock offense at her question. "You're not sure the difference between a witch and a magician?" He shakes his head in dismay. "I don't even know if I should answer that. My other girl never asks me such offensive questions." The name she pulls out of thin air prompts another laugh that he tries to bite back to avoid being discovered, but he shakes his head in mock disapproval. But amusement flits across his face as he snaps several pictures in the trailer. "That's gonna be my new lock screen," he declares, tucking his phone away as she draws near.

"Are they? I don't know about Alejandro," he says the name with an exaggerated accent, a smirk tugging at his lips. "But I've got some solid connections. Getting you a stallion shouldn't be a problem." He adds with a suggestive undertone, his hands falling to her hips. "Yeah, she is. Smells good too," Jakob quips, though his senses are more keenly aware of Ines than any lingering perfume in the room. What Ines lacks in stature, she more than makes up for in presence, sending Jakob's heart racing with the simplest touch. He grins against her lips when the hat is knocked off, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer. "I'm not worried. I know a good lawyer." The witch reassures before she's looking up at him and he can't help but grin. "More than Alejandro? Because," he leans in, pressing his lips to hers again, more languidly this time as his hands slide down her small frame, over slender hips, "I like you more than my other girlfriend too." Jakob mumbles in mock-confession.

Somewhere in the trailer, Liora hops around on a table, mimicking the beats of Jakob's heart before turning non-corporeal the moment his hand skims under Ines' shirt. He drags his lips from her mouth to her jaw, then to her ear as desire and need bubble within him."You definitely moaned earlier," he breathes, one hand making its way to the nape of her neck, tangling fingers in her hair as he gives a little tug, and prompting another little sound from Ines. "Like that." Time or place are the furthest thing from his mind as their lips collide again. He can't remember ever feeling this way – his heart thundering away in his chest as he pulls her close, deepening their kiss. Emotions flood up, and want overcomes him. All he can think of is her. Not the thousands of people hundreds of feet away. Not the fact their friends are probably looking for them. Not even the fact that they're in Essie-J's fucking trailer. None of it matters except for the girl in his arms.

Ines can hear how her chuckles have stuck to her, wrinkling her nose to Jakob in feign sternness. She supposes her sister has the last laugh afterall, Isla witness to the perpetual moods from Ines about moving to New York only for her tune to change entirely. Now she doesn't want to leave the city at all, and it's because of Jakob. Even if she won't say as such to him. Because that's weird. "Yeah, it's super useful because things get messy." Ines quips about a magician boyfriend, her expression reading as if she's not proud of the joke but it simply left her beyond her control. "You're winning though, kinda. I'm not really sure what the difference is between a witch and magician." she adds teasingly, elbow striking Jakob again for his trick. "Okay but now you're losing because...Alejandro would never do that." it's the first name that strikes her that gives magician, said with full conviction despite Ines' wry grin.

A laugh bubbles up as Jakob causes the hat to float to her head, Ines ready with purposely awkward finger guns for the pictures. "Now I just need a stallion." she comments, pushing the hat firmer on her head. "Too bad they're impossible to find." another quick laugh leaves her and she takes an intentional step to Jakob once he moves closer, the grin back on her lips from pure contentedness. "She is super hot." Ines nods sincerely but she mutters now, taking Jakob's face in her hands. "But, so are you so I think I can cope." she's up on tip toes to pull him closer for a kiss, his big ol' head knocking the hat straight from her head and making her chuckle against his mouth. "She's gonna sue you for that." Ines murmurs, peeling away slightly to peer up at him. "Don't tell anyone this, 'cause this is super awkward." she then says with utter seriousness until her smirk gives her away. "I have a crush on you. I know, right? Weird."

#jakob.#jakob w. ines 001.#HAHA i feel #insane #this one's for you essie-j HAHA

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mountswhore · 3 years ago

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𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲 — mason mount

summary: you were getting tired of listening to mason’s problems with his girlfriend, so you plan on confronting him. until he shows up at your door.

notes: requests are open! btw i know i use the same job in a lot of these, it just makes them meeting easier.

“She doesn’t compare to you. No one does.” + “I’ll take the couch.” + “It’s us against the world.”

for @mountswdw

It was tiring, far beyond that, actually. Hearing the same leave his mouth words over and over, the same look on his face, it enervated you. You were exhausted with having Mason appear at your door at stupid o’clock, venting to you about his ‘girlfriend’ and their issues, and all you could do was listen. You’d tried giving him advice the first few times, but he never took it. You don’t even think he took it into consideration. and girlfriend was entirely the wrong word to use, they were more friends with benefits. That’s how she saw their relationship anyway. It was exceptionally worse, because you liked him so much. You wanted to scream in his face and tell him she’s pushing him around, but you couldn’t, it would ruin your friendship.

Mason was sat opposite you, pulling you out of sleep, just to talk to you about her. It felt as if he knew you liked him, and decided to torture you by giving you the inside scoop into their time-bomb of a relationship. You were curled up on the sofa, blanket still wrapped around you as you tried to cling onto your sleep, barely listening to him whine about how his girlfriend seemed like she didn’t care anymore. Your eyelids were so close to shutting again, but you managed to keep them open for Mason. As much as his girlfriend angered you, Mason was your friend and you had to be there for him. You wanted to.

“I think I might call it quits,” Mason sighed softly, eyes finally meeting yours after twenty minutes of squeezing them shut in anger, “I’m gonna do it.” He psyched himself up for it, attempting to steady his breathing. You were surprised the first time he said this, thinking you’d actually gotten through to him. But two days later, his Instagram story was filled with pictures of them both on a nice date. It ruined your Friday night in.

“Okay, Mase.” You whispered, standing up from your seat on the couch. You’d been sat there for so long that your exposed skin was now cold again, creating a strip of goosebumps that lined your side and legs. “You can stay here, if you want. You know where the spare bedding is.” It felt like a script at this point, repeating the same things to him as he found solace in you after an argument with his girlfriend.

“Yeah,” Mason conceded, watching with an achy heart as you shifted towards your stairs, “goodnight, Y/N.” Hearing him say your name never failed to give you butterflies, no matter how tired you were of hearing his complaints.

“Night, Mase.” Was all you said back as you reached your room, diving back into the now-cold sheets. Mason had set up his usual makeshift bed in the living room, your couch was actually comfier than most. That’s why he never hesitated to sleep on it. But his night was anything but full of sleep, despite the argument being fresh on his mind still, he was thinking about you.

Your friendship was different now than it was before. Before his girlfriend. You’d met when you were a trainee-massage therapist. Chelsea’s massage therapist had been kind enough to let you shadow him for a week, showing you the ins-and-outs of what his job was like. And you’d made friends with a few of the Chelsea boys, but ultimately caught Mason’s eye. Soon enough, you’d been offered a job alongside this massage therapist and here you were. Friendly flirting with Mason during work hours and after. Nothing came of it, you both saw it as flirty banter, and were good friends. Until his girlfriend came around.

Mason told himself he valued his friendship with you over potentially pushing it further, so tried to get over you. With Ella. Ella seemed sweet to begin with, but when Mason started coming to you for comfort, that’s when you saw how terrible their relationship was. She’d seen it differently to Mason, who felt it was more romantic than sexual. To say it stung to hear about his sexcapades with Ella, was an understatement. That’s when you began to grow tired of it, hearing about them constantly. It was the only time you’d talk really, apart from when you were having a session with him at work.

Laying there for two hours, putting himself in your shoes, it had all come together for him. He was cursing himself as he’d walked up the stairs, to give you more than just a fraction of the attention you’d gotten so used to. He’d imagined only seeing you when you complained about a boy you’d been seeing, and it dampened his mood. But thinking about you seeing another boy, that’s what made his feet move rapidly to your room. Knowing what he’d put you through for the past few months, it made him mad at himself. He’d never let someone treat him like this, so why should he treat his closest friend like this?

“Y/N,” you heard from behind you, startling you as you looked around in the dark, “are you awake?” Matching the voice to Mason’s, it calmed you down a bit. It wasn’t just a random intruder who knew your name and was considerate enough to let you know they’d broken in. “Y/N,” he repeated, his finger tracing down the arch of your back, “please wake up.”

“What’s up, Mase?” You somnolently questioned, yawning as he came into view. Your lamp was now on, illuminating his bloodshot eyes and tired smile. It was only something you’d wish to wake up to every morning. He said nothing, but pulled you into a hug. His arms a tight yet perfect fit around you, a small kiss was pressed to your shoulder as you shifted. Mason never wanted to let you go.

It was moments like this that slowly killed you inside. You and Mason had cuddled before, on one of the nights he’d come over after an argument, he’d snuggle up to you on the couch as you finished watching your movie. It would be a gentle night of intimacy, feelings locked away due to his relationship, and yet he’d still choose her. He’d always go back to Ella, so much so, it made you wonder what she had to make him crawl back each time.

Mason was now in bed with you, head on your chest and enjoying your warmth. He felt a lot better now, having you in his arms, giving you the attention you deserved. But this wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want another cuddle with a friend, you wanted him. But you knew his heart still belonged to Ella. He’d fallen asleep pretty quickly, so you’d rolled him off of you and gotten some sleep for yourself before work tomorrow. Where you’d see him.

Throughout your day, you’d caught eyes with him a few times. He’d give you a cheeky grin and sometimes even sing your name as he walked past you. You told yourself not to be hopeful for Mason’s breakup with Ella, because it had never happened before. But not once had he mentioned her to you over the course of the day. A smile had been plastered to your face as you left your office for the day, you could no longer push the hope away, Mason could finally be calling it quits with her.

Until you saw that damned white Golf. She was stood there, a smirk upon her face, Mason jogging up to her and getting into the car. Your mood flattened, making your drive home depressing and your arrival even worse. Your bed still unmade, the creases from Mason moving around in his sleep last night. His jacket was still here, hung on the door of your bedroom. The note he left on your bathroom mirror saying ‘thank you for everything you do <3’, because he knew you’d see it there. Everything in your house reminded you of him, you’d never escape the love you had for this man.

And there you were, back on your couch again. Mason was clearly sticking with Ella this time, so it was a quiet night in for you. This time last year, when Mason actually seemed to be your friend, he’d be round most nights and you’d be arguing over who’s having the last Cornetto and what to watch. But now, it’s like you’re not even his friend. You’re his therapist. You could barely pay attention to the movie you were watching, your mind relaying the scene you’d witnessed today. Seeing him curled up in your bed this morning, and then running to his girlfriends car this afternoon. You’d decided enough was enough.

“I’m gonna confront this asshole,” you mumbled to yourself, changing out of your pyjamas and into a warmer outside attire, “he either stops coming to me about his fucking relationship, or he leaves me alone.” You were psyching yourself up, something you’d mirrored Mason doing a million times before. You’d spent so much time together, you were almost the same person. Sliding into your shoes, you grabbed the door handle. You either cried or screamed at him, no in between. You yanked the handle down to open your door, almost jumping out of your skin when you saw Mason at your door.

“Mason?” You questioned whether you were seeing things or he was actually clinging onto you and weeping into your shoulder. “Why are you here? What happened?” You wanted to be angry at him, you wanted to tell him how tired you were of hearing him complain about his girlfriend nonstop, but not even the worst argument could keep you from comforting him.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, tears staining the material of your hoodie, “I never meant to treat you like this. You mean everything to me.” You brought him inside and sat him on your couch, seeing yourself where you were last night. Only this time you were more concerned. Mason had never cried in front of you, and you still hadn’t found out why.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry for making it feel like I only need you when I argue with Ella.” He simply stated, his large hand wrapped quite tightly around yours. “I promise I need you all the time, you get me through everything. I’d be nowhere without you, you know that. But I’m done, we’re done. I know you saw me getting into her car earlier, but I did it. I finally finished things with her.”

You were knocked out of breath, processing what you’d just heard. After months of having to pick up the pieces, there was no more of that. And not only had he surprised you by following through with his word, he’d apologised. Your Mason was back.

“Really?” You asked, unsure of whether to believe him or not. He just nodded and opened his arms, you falling into them almost instantly. “I mean I’m sorry, but I’m kind of glad. Nobody should make you feel that unhappy, that frequently.” He responded by squeezing you tighter, his hands gently grazing your sides. You wondered if this was going to be the moment a chance would appear — an opportunity for you to tell Mason how you felt about him.

Mason pulled away from your hug, his eyes catching yours briefly before he stared down at your lips. You felt like you were in a haze, eyes half closed as you stared back at him. You were entranced by him and you hadn’t felt as relieved as you did in months. Mason took this chance to inch closer to you, feeling your breath on his face and your hand resting on his thigh. “She doesn’t compare to you. No one does.” He whispered, finally closing the gap between you both. It felt electric, something that was long overdue.

“Mase,” you breathed, whining at the sudden loss of contact, he’d pulled away from the kiss to smile at you, “it’s been so hard watching and listening to her hurt you.” Mason held you close, his newfound confidence after kissing you had you speechless as you looked at him. “But I’d never leave you to deal with it alone.”

“It’s us against the world, it always has been.” He admitted, your legs swung over his lap as he held you tight. The night had ended exactly how you’d hoped, Mason in your arms and no more listening to him whine about Ella. It was the perfect end to your shitty day. But it was getting late, Mason was even yawning as he looked at the time on his phone.

You stood up, shaking off your coat and hanging it on the banister, as well as placing your shoes back onto the shoe rack. Sleep was calling your name at this point, and you didn’t want anything more than to cuddle up to Mason as you slept.

“I’ll take the couch.” Mason stated, reaching into the living room cupboard to grab the blankets out. But you’d grabbed his arm and pulled him up, his face towering over yours. Your eyes met once again, and this time you initiated the kiss. It was brief, and enough to show you still meant what you said.

“Don’t be silly,” your voice was soft, hand linking his as you led him up to your room. Bed still unmade, exactly how he left it this morning. He’d given you one last look, his usual cheeky smile on his face as he grabbed the backs of your thighs and lifted you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bed.

He was above you, and although you were both in the moment, it played out romantically. Mason smoothed his palm over the sides of your face, moving the stray hairs and taking in your beauty. You were effortless with how you looked, and still the most beautiful girl he’d seen. The way he looked at you, it was as if he’d been doing it for years. And he has, but you’d never know that.

#money mase #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount

211 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 3 years ago

Text

sun in the shadows (08)

word count; 12,516

summary; noah does his best to fit in, and it doesn’t quite go as planned, but that’s okay.

notes; it’s finally happening.

warnings; noah is a bit of a jerk, but it’s over pretty quickly.

The sun was out again, the grass was filled with people, and it seems that they had gained the good luck you had missed. This sun was bringing warmth, a radical change from only a week ago, as your sundress today was entirely fitting. With hair clipped back away from your shoulders to keep cool and sunscreen on your bare skin to stop yourself from burning, you were soaking up the rays.

The group you were gathered with had been lucky enough to snag a table to sit out at, blankets laid out and pinned down in the light breeze by picnic blankets, shoes and rocks for those who hadn't made it to a table in time, and you didn’t envy them at all. Despite the warmth, the grass was still a little damp, mud still tar-like as it moved toward drying out, and yet the space was still heaving. It mildly resembled that of a festival or a beach on the Fourth of July.

Leaning back a little, your face tipped up to the sky, the chatter of your friends surrounding you drowning out as warmth washed over your face, lids closed but barely doing anything to block out the light, and you smiled. You loved the summer, always had, it was your favourite season. Something about the warmth, the longer nights and the smoky smell that came with barbecues or the salt of the ocean at the beach. As you sat, face directed to the sky, the sun was suddenly blocked, a cooler air falling over you, and your frowned, cracking your eyes open to see what had happened.

“Noah, hi.” You beamed, sitting up properly to turn around, and the man nodding his head, a hint of a smile on his face. A pair of dark black sunglasses were sitting on his nose, a pretty contrast to dark hair and darker denim jeans, a charcoal t-shirt on his shoulders, but there was no jacket. His bag was slung over one shoulder, and as his presence was made known, several others around the table greeted him, too. He seemed to have a warmer reaction to them, a wonderful smile as he offered his greetings, and your brows furrowed a little.

You ignored the action, despite its unfamiliarity with you. He was treating you once again like he had done months ago, when first getting to know you, a time when there was no trust built between you both. Taking a seat beside you at the table, you only just had a chance to move your skirt out of the way before he was sitting down. Swinging his bag over to the side, you waited for him to say anything else, his hands sitting atop the table as his forearms leaned on the wood, and your frown was only deepening.

Running a finger along his forearm, his face turned to you, brows rising up from behind the glasses, and a smirk on his face.

“You okay, there?” He teased, your eyes narrowing on him just a little, and his arm flexed slightly under your touch, before he was pulling his arm away from you, and the smirk on his face widened. “What? There’s something going on up there, so you might as well spill it.”

“Nothing, I guess.” Your words were mumbled out, and he only nodded, not bothering to wait for a second longer, before he was turning back to the conversation. Something within your stomach twisted. Confusion at his behaviour, uncertainty whether it was something you had done, or whether this was simply who he was when he didn’t let his anxiety get in the way. “I just thought I wasn’t seeing you until later, is all?”

“I thought I’d join you for lunch. Is that so bad?” He was grinning again, a more cocky smile than you were used to seeing from him, and on the few occasions you had seen it, it was never in a setting like this. “I thought you wanted me to get out there, make friends. Is it because I’m not all yours anymore?”

A couple of the other boys around the tables chuckled, various girlfriends and partners slapping at their arms in retaliation for the joke about being controlling, and your lips pursed into a thin line. “No. I just wasn’t expecting you, is all.”

He seemed a little taken aback by your shorter tone with him, one of your brows raising slightly in a challenge to his behaviour. Taking his glasses from the tip of his nose, he folded them in the middle, tucking them into his shirt, to rest on his colour. Sweet brown eyes were searching your own, and you shrugged a little. His smirk lessened, becoming a slight frown, and for a moment, you thought he was going to leave behind whatever it was that was wrong and let you in, but then, he was stolen away into a conversation.

Just a brief mention of his name was all that it took, and his focus was moving away from you entirely. You were glad that he had made more friends, you really were. You’d been working hard to try and introduce him to new people in a way that wouldn't spark his anxiety. Run-ins on walks the two of you shared, people you bumped into while out getting coffee or simply introducing him to someone you knew that you thought he’d get along with.

You’d seen Noah every single day for the last week, there hadn't been a moment that wen toast that the two of you hadn't been in contact, whether in person or via text. For as many days as you could count now, he was the last person you’d spoken to before going to bed, and the first person you had spoken to when waking up in the morning. He was the person who made you laugh when you were stressed, and the man who sent you recipes when you didn’t know what to cook. He was the person who sat by your side doodling on the tops of your work pages while you tried to get some studying done, before eventually distracting you enough to give up.

You couldn’t place anything you’d done wrong. The last time you’d seen him had been the afternoon before, when you’d gotten a coffee together and walked around campus, and you’d spoken to him only an hour or so ago. His behaviour made no sense to you, it was unprompted and without reason, and it was leaving the feeling of a put welling in your stomach.

The thought of it being some kind of reverse attempt at soothing his anxiety flittered over your mind, and so in an attempt to test the theory, you leaned over. Shuffling up close to his side, your arm looped through his, and he paused his speech for just a second. He’d been talking to the boy across from you both, telling them all about the renovation work he’d spent a summer doing with his dad on the house, and he turned to look at you.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. Maybe for his arm to tighten around yours, to pull you in a little closer. A smile, a kiss to your forehead, something softer than the look you got with an arrogant smirk that made you feel like you were locked out from him, and when he turned back to continue the conversation without any of the options that had run through your head, your discomfort only increased.

Your arm sagged against his, his arm flexing for a second a spike of hope raced through you. But, he was simply shifting, his arm moving away from yours in a way that made you shuffle backwards. Reaching into his pocket, he produced his phone, laughing slightly at a joke that you hadn't caught from someone else around the table, and you pulled your hand back into your lap instead of placing it back through his arm.

Everything about it made you uncomfortable. The wondering, the insecurity, the fear of having done something wrong and forced him back into his shell with you. It was enough to make you feel sick to your stomach, and despite your lingering gaze on him for minutes now, he never turned to you. Checking your phone, the afternoon was tickling on. Your lunch was passed finished, your afternoon wide open with nothing else to do, as it seemed all plans with Noah seemed to have fallen through with his new personality.

You weren’t sure what had gotten into him, the new attitude was like that of half of your exes, or your friends and the people who were around you. You didn’t mind it so much on them, of course, it would the attitude that they would greet you with, because there was nothing deeper between you with them. Every friendship you had was teasing, there was nothing that merited anymore more. With them, your physical contact was limited to that of greetings and goodbyes, hugs and the occasional kiss to the cheek.

With Noah, though, you’d felt like something was different.

You’d felt like perhaps there was something more between you both, something a little beyond simple friendship. Something flirty, the kind of sweet-like-honey feeling that made you get butterflies and have your cheeks ache from smiling, or your eyes sore from staying up late, staring at a screen in the dark just to talk to him.

Clearly, that wasn’t how he felt, too.

You tried to join the conversation, to talk to the girls around you as the men were all sucked into a chat that you evidently weren’t intended to be a part of. You could keep up for a while offering your input on everything they talked about. You liked that about the girls you were friends with, they were easy to skip between topics, moving from one thing to another with ease, and sharing gossip that they had heard.

For a while, it made you feel better, a little more comforted and a little less alone, but despite his presence right next to your side, the warmth from his body and the brief brushes of his shoulder with yours when he moved, but it only made you feel more lonely. You felt shut out, as though the cold wall that you had spent so long breaking down had shot right back up, twice as thick. You couldn't take it anymore.

Packing away your books into your bag, you stood from the table, several pairs of eyes moving to you as you stood, and you offered them all the best smile that you could muster at that moment. Once they were all sealed away, you placed your bag up on your shoulder, and your hands met the wood. Leaning over slightly, the conversation went quiet as you became the centre of attention.

“Sorry to break this up, but I got to go.” Several soft complaints came, attempts to convince you to stay, and you smiled at the effort that at least some of your friends were making. “If anything exciting happens, text me.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay? I was just thinking we should go and get some coffee, or something.”

Laurel was staring up at you expectantly, her eyes a little wider and you sighed, shaking your head. As much as you’d loved to, the bad mood you had gained from Noah’s new attitude was bringing down your social battery, and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d last. “I would, but I have some studying to do, and a couple of other things. I’ll catch up with you later, though, alright?”

There were some goodbyes, and even a hug from the girl beside you, before you were beginning to trail away from them. The chatter around the table was quickly replaced by the groups you began to weave through, a polite smile on your face to everyone you passed by as you tried not to encourage any more conversations. By the time you were reaching the edge of the grass and moving to the concrete, the heavy footfalls of another person moving slightly faster than you were catching you up.

A hand on your shoulder, pulling you lightly to a stop, and as you turned around, you yes scanned up to find the face of a man you were familiar with as your instinct kicked in, accustomed to his height by now. “Where you goin’?” He questioned, panting a little from the effort he’d exerted to catch up with you, and you tried not to scowl at him as he stared.

His face was softer now, instead of the cheeky look he’d been holding all afternoon, it was something much more genuine and earnest, the kind of look you were used to from him. It was throwing you through a loop just trying to keep up with him. “Home. I have some work to do.”

You moved again, walking away from him, and he let out a confused grunt, boots scuffling on the tarmac of the parking lot as he caught back up to you. “Wait, wait, wait. I thought we were supposed to be going to the garage? I’m working on your car tonight, I brought new bulbs for your headlights because they’re kinda’ dimmed, and I don’t want you getting into an accident or anything.”

You frowned, eyes narrowing on him for a second, and your shoulders slumped under his gaze.

“What’s wrong?” His hand reached out, trailing down along your arm towards your hand, and he had the audacity to let a hurt look flicker across his face when you pulled back from him by just a fraction. It was enough, though. Enough for his hand to fall away, his fingertips brushing over your arm, before it fell back to his side, dismay evident on his face.

“What is with this hot and cold act you have going on?” His jaw dropped, no words coming out, and heat crawled up along his cheeks slightly while he gaped at you. Instead, you took the initiative, shaking your head a little at him, and he only sank in on himself a little further. “You were so sweet this morning. The Noah I’ve come to know, and then suddenly at lunch, you’re this different person. Kinda’ a jerk, actually. Now, you’re all gentlemanly again. I don’t get you, but I don’t want to hang out with someone who’s gonna’ pick me up and drop me like a yo-yo.”

His eyes flicked over your face, lips pursing closed in a tight line, and you waited a moment longer. As the silence grew, you moved away from him, taking steps again a little further, and it was a few more seconds before he moved again. He was slower, long strides falling him into step beside you, and he didn’t try to stop you, but his head hung a little, and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, alright? But when the other Noah shows back up, let me know.”

He chuckled, dry and hollow, before he was rounding in front of you, giving you only a second to stop before you were colliding with him, and there were mere inches between your bodies. Staring up at him, your brows shot up again, and he tried to offer a gentle smile to you. “I just thought that if I acted the way your other friends acted, I’d fit in a little better, and you’d like me more.”

“You were trying to get me to like you more? By acting like a dick, and making me feel weird about ‘us’?”

“Reverse psychology?” He whispered, and he relaxed when the smile on your face came out.

“I’m the psychology major, leave that to me.” You teased, and he nodded his head. Leaning down, his nose brushed over your forehead, lips pressing to your skin in a soft kiss, the act you were used to, and you sighed as he did. “There he is.”

His hands smoothed over your sides, pulling you in closer and your hand came up to rest on his cheek. Stroking the skin across his cheekbone gently with your thumb, his head tipped into your hand.

“I don’t want you to be anyone else, okay? I like you plenty enough just the way you are.”

“You’ll still come hang out with me, then? Because it gets lonely when you don’t keep me company at the garage, now. I’ve become accustomed to having company.” He reached out again, his hand smoothing along your arm, and you didn’t pull away this time. Rather, you let his hands find yours, fingers weaving together until your palms were pressed up to one another. He smiled, something bashful and dopey, and it was an adorable kind of expression. The cold of the band he had wrapped around his thumb today was rubbing against your finger, and you squeezed at his hand. “I’m gonna’ take that as a ‘yes’.”

“‘Kay, I forgive you. Don’t get weird again, though.” He nodded his head, making you grin as he tugged you in a new direction, a ninety-degree angle to head towards the bike. He made his promise, making you grin when he held out a tattooed finger for you to link your own with, sealing the promise together.

Opening up the back-box on the bike, and pulling out your helmet. Letting you settle your things inside, he placed the helmet down on your head, pulling your hair back and out of the way. Leaning in, his lips brushed over your nose, breath panted lightly over your lips, something heavier settling over the both of you, and you couldn’t help the breathy giggle you let out.

You reached for his helmet, having learned where the catch underneath the seat was, and you opened it up to select the protection from inside. Lifting it, he ducked his head to let you place the helmet on his head, brushing back the longer strands of chocolate-brown hair to settle it there. Smoothing your fingers down along his jaw, you fastened up the catch under his chin, his head tipping up to let you do so. Before his head moved down, you shifted upward, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, and he was beaming when his head came back down.

His finger spinach the tip of your nose, between his thumb and his index, your face screwing up with a soft laugh when he did. “You’re cute, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” Swinging your leg over the bike, you settle down first, your hands landing on the steering, a dangerous look portrayed him as you smirked. “In a summer dresses and lollipops kind of way, right?”

“Mhm.” He teased, fastening your helmet up and tipping it to sit properly on your head as he stood before you. Moving his eyes further down, his sights scanned over you “You look good on my bike.”

“You should let me drive. I think I’ve got it, now. I would be awesome at this.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as you shuffled back to make space for him. With every catch done up and the boxes sealed, his leg swung over the bike, settling himself down on the leather. With the impact of him sitting, you slid down the seat, the insides of your thighs pressing to the outsides of his own, and your front was pressed to his back. His hand came out, circling behind his body to find your wrists, and he pulled your arms around his body. “If you drove, how would I get you to hold onto me like this? I like the attention, what can I say?”

“You could just ask.”

“Oh, yeah?” He twisted the keys in the ignition, the bike sparking to life underneath you, and your hands tightened a little more around him. Revving the bike slightly, he kicked off the latch that kept it secured to the ground, balancing it between his own feet as you tucked yours away. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You should.” You mumbled, chin tucked over his shoulder to whisper the words near his ear, and you could see the smile stretch on his face. Pulling back, your forehead rested between his shoulder blades, squeezing him once in signal to let him know you were ready, and then he took off.

You’d grown used to it now, the slight grind of the tyres on the concrete as he took off and then the streets whizzing by. You like the sights, the way the lights seemed to become like a blur when you moved, The tips and tilts, the way the bike bounced when you went through potholes or over the bumps in the road, it had all started to feel natural. It was the same when you were with him.

Noah had been a stranger to you, but he was a constant in your life now. He was by your side more than he wasn’t now, and you couldn't deny the bond that you’d formed with him It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. He didn’t force you to be anything you weren’t, he didn’t make you feel insecure, or less worthy, or like you had to constantly be the best version of yourself to impress him. He didn’t drain you down like others did, he didn’t make you feel less, or like you couldn't be yourself. You loved who you were around him, and how being with him made you feel.

Twisting your head, your eyes closed, cheek resting against his back as he moved. He was going slower than usual today, the journey taking a little longer, and while the quiet was filling the space between you both, it was comfortable. Everything with Noah seemed to be that way, now. The two of you were seemingly opposites, everything about you felt like something that would clash but there was just something between the two of you that worked. Like magnets drawn together, or opposing puzzle pieces, you fit together perfectly.

He forced you out of your comfort zone, to do things like ride a motorbike while you forced him to approach the people he’d seemingly decided hate him, only to discover he was capable of making friends. Each of your downfalls, he seemed to lift up. One by one, he was raising you up, making you a better person, and giving back to you just as much as you gave to him. It was effortless to be around him, something that had happened both slowly and at light speed. Winning his trust had turned into so much more, once the door had been opened, it was like the two of you had moved past acquaintances and friends, to hover on the verge of something else.

He was constantly on your mind, and when he wasn’t, it didn’t take long before you saw something that reminded you of him, a joke or a comment online, even just the way someone would walk across campus or the outfit they’d wear, it all seemed to come back to him.

When the pair of you had finally pulled up to the edge of his garage, he was cruising slowly between the sheds. More doors than usual were open today, the crowds were a little busier, but with the sunny weather, you weren’t so surprised. The tones of different music melded together, more students willing to come and spend prolonged periods of time outside when the weather was warm, and the days lasted longer.

Setting up the stand on the bike, your feet reached the floor, trembling a little still from the vibrations of the engine. The sounds went dead as he pulled the keys from the machine, but neither of you moved, his hands dropping down to find your own for just a second, and you lifted one hand. Your fingers weaved with his, before he was pulling your hand up, kissing the back of your hand gently, and the feeling made something explode within you. Butterflies, a tidal wave, something crushing and exhilarating and racing all in one, your heart beating erratically as he lowered your hand back down. “I’m sorry about before. I just wanted to be more like other people you hang out with, other people you’re friends with, or you’ve dated, or whatever. I didn’t want to be a freak.”

Standing up from the bike, you undid the catch on your helmet, putting it down on the seat as he copied your actions, going from looking up at you to once again looking down as he stood taller than you. “You know, when I’m with you, I feel so much better than I do when I’m with them.”

“I just want to be the right guy, you know? Be someone everyone likes, be someone who can fit in. Stiles does it so effortlessly, I can’t be like that.”

“You shouldn’t have to, because I think you’re great the way you are.” You tapped the tip of his nose, the same way he had done to you, and his face screwed up with ticklish responses exactly the same way that you had. “It’s a good thing you cut that out, though, because I got you something.”

“A gift?” He whispered, and you only nodded. Opening the box on the back of the bike, you swapped the helmet in your hand for your bag, laying it out onto the seat so that you had access to it. Opening up the bag and digging through it, you searched until your fingers brushed the silky material, and you could grasp the small item.

“It’s just something small.” You mumbled, beginning to untangle it from the contents inside, and hoping it hadn't gotten creased. Producing the item, his eyes dropped down from your face to the item in your hands, a neutral expression taking over as he considered it. “I like to put decals on my laptop, and all the ones I had were getting old and peeling. I was ordering some new ones, and I saw this one. It made me think of you.”

“It's a daisy.” He took it from you, thumb stroking across the shining plastic, and you nodded.

“Yeah, from the day that you and I sat in the field, and you let me put daisies in your hair.” You reached up, brushing your fingers through his hair lightly, and fluffing it back up from where it had fallen flat. “I figure you could put it on your laptop, or bedpost, or maybe don’t stick it to anything. You could put it on your pinboard in your room, or use it as a bookmark. I don’t know.”

“I love it.”

“You do?” Your heart had been racing, the uncertain expression he had that you couldn't possibly decipher became something like the sun, a wide smile as his chewed-down thumbnail picked at the edges. Peeling the plastic backing away from the transparent and inked design, your brows raised. He moved, pressing the edge of the plastic onto his bike, and sealing it down firmly, your eyes widening. “Noah! That’s your bike!”

“I know. I’ve never had a decal on it before.”

“But, what if it ruins your paint job, or something? I didn’t expect you to stick it on your bike, of all things!” He smirked, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as you rambled to him. Your eyes moved to the sticker, your face cupped by warm palms as your finger smoothed over it, the white and yellow standing out prominently against the black. “What if you decide you don’t like it, or you hate where it’s positioned, or-”

Your breath was held in your lungs as he dipped down closer than he’d ever been as his nose bumped against yours. Your lips brushed, his tongue poking out to wet his lips slowly, and you let out a shaky groan as he did. Your eyes closed, lashes tickling against his as he lingered there The tension was palpable, the split second that he lingered there felt like a thousand dragging on, before his lips met your own.

Soft and warm, his lips pressed tentatively against yours at first, a second becoming two that was filled with hesitation. It was simply his pressed to your own, nothing happened for a second, before it did. His lips moved, fingers digging a little more firmly into your jaw, and his palms slid down. His hand was sitting over your neck, feeling the pounding of your pulse under his hand no doubt, and your mind finally seemed to catch up.

Your lips twisted, a smile making itself evident, and your giggle was muffled against his lips as you sagged a little in his hold. His grip loosened a little, his kisses stopped, pulling back enough to press his forehead to your own, taking a breath, before he was pulling away. “That’s not the reaction I was hoping for.”

There was gravel in his voice, and he swallowed thickly to clear it away, pupils wider than you’d ever seen them when he looked back to you. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I was just caught off-guard.”

“Couldn’t have been that off-guard, I’ve not really been subtle, lately.”

“I just figured I’d have to make the first move.” You teased, his eyes rolling, and one hand lowered further. Smoothing over your side, his hand found your hip, rubbing soothing circles through the material and your whole body felt lost. Like you were floating in the clouds, but weights were tied to your fingertips, arms heavy as you raised them to loop around his neck. “Kiss me again. I won’t laugh this time, I swear.”

“If you do, I’m never kissing you again.” He mumbled, dipping down to brush a pout over your lips, and you scoffed slightly, head pushing up to meet him.

“Liar.” Your words were lost, mouth meeting his in a sweet kiss, and he sighed through his nose as you connected with him. This time, you were ready. Your lips moved back with his, a soft and slow kiss that nothing like you’d ever experienced before.

It was like fireworks, every place he touched as the hand on your waist flexed, and the one from your neck smoothed down along your bag to pull him closer. Your fingertips were tingling, one hand slipping to the back of his neck to hold him close as his mouth worked with yours in a way that emptied your mind. You were clinging to him, one hand down over his chest, feeling his heart racing through his shirt, and as he pulled away, one of his hands came up to hold onto your own on his chest.

You didn’t say anything, and neither did he. You didn’t know what to say, and neither did he. In fact, you were both completely speechless, a few more stolen pecks and bumps of your noses, before there was a grin cracking on your cheeks that you couldn’t contain, and he stood tall again, a kiss on your forehead before he was tucking you under his chin and close to his body.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that for a while. I didn’t know it would feel like that, though.” He whispered, hands taking yours on both sides, linking your fingers together as you rested against his, and you could only nod in agreement.

“Why didn’t you do it sooner?”

“I didn’t know you wanted me back.” He shrugged, and you pulled away, shock written on your face when he peered down to see you.

“I’ve not really been subtle, lately.” You threw his own words back at him, slightly pinker lips than usual showing off white teeth in a smile, and you rolled your eyes at him. “Wanna’ fix my car and talk mechanic to me and I’ll pretend I know what you’re saying?”

“I’ll simplify it for you.” He teased, letting go of your hands after one final squeeze to retrieve his belongings. Zipping up your bag and slinging it over one shoulder, he swapped his helmet for his backpack, tucking his keys into the front pocket, and you followed him around to the front of the building. Putting in the code on the padlock, he undid the lock at the bottom, the rickety metal shutter rolling up higher and higher until the whole doorway was exposed.

Your car lay inside, the hood already popped open and the engine was taken apart. Pieces were on the floor and the counters, like some kind of mechanic gore scene, and you jumped a little as he threw the heavy padlock onto the wooden table. Your bag followed, his was dumped by the side of the car, and he pulled it open, producing four boxes of lightbulbs for your car, shaking each one for a second to ensure they hadn't broken. He seemed pleased with what he heard, laying the boxes along the roof of the car.

It was propped up now, sitting on an angle as it was elevated into the air, and the board that he used to slide under it was still on the floor, indicating that it had been recently used. Taking your phone from your bag, you grabbed for the speaker, hidden in the same place you’d put it on your latest session with him, and began to untangle the wire. Once it was set up, pulled out as far from the wall as it would go, you set your phone down, plugging the device in.

The light on the base changed from red to green, signalling that it had connected, and the speaker let out a crackling sound to confirm the volume. Adjusting the dial a little, and being aware of Noah’s neighbours surrounding you, you turned it down a fraction. As you scrolled through the first couple of sounds, beginning to choose a set to start queuing up, a warm body was meeting your back, and hand smoothing around your waist to sit over your stomach, and once again, your mind was going blank.

His chin hooked onto your shoulder, your heart racing in your chest and a flush covered your entire body, somehow managing to feel like you were on fire in your own skin while also shivering a little, goosebumps rising along your exposed arms. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the skin of your shoulder just to the left of your dress strap, and you leaned back into him a little.

Physical contact was nothing new between the two of you, and had he taken these actions only a day or so ago, you probably would have had a calmer reaction than you did now, but there was something more hanging over it now. A line crossed, a new page in the book, something entirely different that made it that much more exhilarating.

You continue your scrolling, the soft melodies of ‘Brandy’ playing across the air, and the man behind you hummed approvingly. “I forgot that this song even existed. It’s a good choice.”

“It’s my favourite song.” You mumbled, your body beginning to sway side to side with his own in a very simple dance. The tune took up, and you sang lightly under your breath to yourself, Noah humming along behind you as you continued to add songs. Occasionally, he would join you, his finger coming out to tap or point at the screen, a silent suggestion on which ones to add, and within a few minutes, the songs were collected. Enough for an hour, at least, possibly even two, and then you could reconsider what to play when the music ran out.

“Your car should be up and running soon, I’ve been making some pretty good progress on it.”

You turned to face him, sitting down backwards on the spinning stool with the wooden top, and he was walking back toward the car, the toolbox on the opposite workbench already open. His back was to you, grey shirt stretched across broad shoulders, the muscles in his back evident when he leaned over and you let your eyes linger a little longer than usual. The blush you got every time you realised you were checking him out was still present, but it didn’t feel as taboo as it had previously.

“There’s something rattling in your engine and I can’t figure out what, I’ve taken out everything he could be, so I’m starting to think it’s something underneath.”

“That why this place looks like a car’s worst nightmare?” You teased, eyes moving across the pieces of removed engine, and he chuckled, sifting through the tools inside.

“Pretty much. I’ll put it all back together, though, don’t worry. I’ll feel better knowing you’re out on the road in something safe.” You cooed a little at him, his sweet gesture making your chest flood with adoration, bursting from the inside out, and he only rolled his eyes at you, glancing back over his shoulder for a split second. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do once it’s fixed, or where we’ll hang out.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Your tone was coy, and he chuckled, turning back to look at you. He had chosen what he was looking for, something that looked like a short and blunt tool. You weren’t sure what the folded end would be used for, but he was straight into action, leaning over your engine and reaching inside. Twisting in your seat, you reached for your bag, pulling out all of your books. Flicking through your notebook to find the latest empty page, your bag sat open. You’d gathered more than enough information from the pair to be able to start making your conclusions now, but you still felt behind.

Stiles was much further ahead, he had started forming his conclusions and searching for holes in his evidence almost three weeks ago, and he was beginning to redraft his final presentations as he produced a first copy. You were still a while off of being at that stage, becoming progressively more distracted by Noah and the puzzle he presented as you deciphered him, but you couldn't help it.

He was rattling around behind you, a sound that had distracted you for a while at first but had become background noise just like the music had, fading into something that helped your mind to work better than the silence ever did. Your notes seemed like they were blurring on the page, your mind far too busy thinking about recent events than the notes you’d taken on the two.

The songs ticked by, the tinkering behind you fading away and starts and ends of your engineer turning on and off, rattling slightly and making the air around you vibrate for just a second. Your pen scribbled song your paper comparing answers and beginning to draw what information you could and in the times that your mind wandered, you doodled borders around the notes that were just for you to see. The notebook that had once been fresh and crisply pressed was now ragged around the edges, worn pages from constant flicking back and forth, filled with ink and your thoughts as you tried to get them all down.

Occasionally, Noah would come over to join you, a half-drunk bottle of water that he was getting through as he leaned don the unit beside you. His notes had joined your one, his thoughts written down onto the paper, sometimes a joke, something with a sarcastic comment about what you had written, and sometimes it was just his one doodles to join yours.

The work was progressively getting done, and while it wasn’t nearly proceeding at the rate you would get it done alone, you preferred working slower and having his company than racing through it but being all alone. It was more enjoyable, especially when he began to relax more, the deeper rasp of his voice like a security blanket that forced your body to relax once he let go enough to start singing along lowly to the songs.

By the fourth one he had sung, you realised you hadn't written anything in almost ten minutes, pen hovering over the page, and it was beginning to feel hopeless. The sweltering heat was beginning to settle over you like a thick blanket on a too-hot summer’s night. As the afternoon moved on, the breeze was dying down, and the once temperate heat was becoming stifling as it sat stagnantly.

Closing your book and folding your pen inside, you called it a day, deeming it a good day’s work as you put your notebook into your bag, zipping it up, and a soft sound of something dropping beside you caught your attention. Turning around, a slightly damp pile of grey sat beside you, and upon picking it up for further inspection, you released it was a t-shirt.

Turning to the car, the man you were with had disappeared underneath, melodic voice bouncing from the metal on the underside of your car, but the happy trail of dark hairs along the bottom of a toned stomach was still visible, and your mouth rapidly dried at the sight. You turned away, feeling wrong for staring, but like a magnet, your gaze was drawn back to him.

Folding the material you still held neatly as something to simply busy yourself, the chair squeaked as you twisted to place it back down on top of your bag, no longer in a crumpled heap, before turning back to the vehicle. With elbows braced on the edge of the wooden counter, your eyes moved along it. Still covered in a layer of dirt and dust, it needed a good wash, but you’d hadn't bothered to venture as far as the carwash in a long time, trying to save the little life it had left for important travel. As soon as it was back in your possession, however, that would be one of your first priorities.

Moving a little further along, your eyes reached the back wheels, new tyres having been one of the first things Noah had done for you the grip on the other’s fading away, and you vaguely remembered him telling you all about the brake-pads at some point. His chatter about mechanics always became a mess in your mind, much like you were sure your psychology chatter became for him, but you listened intently and tried to keep up, just as he did for you. Simply hearing him talk so passionately was a treasure in itself.

“Oh, my God, you got that dent out.” Your eyes honed in on the spot, and while it wasn’t exactly perfect, it was considerably better than it had been. The wheels of the board scraped along the ground, sliding his body out from under the vehicle.

“Yeah, I noticed it when swapping out your tyres.” You turned back up him, the wide beam on your face dimming a little in shock, because you’d managed to forget his shirtless state for just a second, but now, it was crashing over you all in a sudden rush. His hands were stained with oil, and he stood up the folded muscles from his hunched position going taut as he stood, and he grabbed the nearest scrap of fabric he had, trying to wipe down his hands as best as he could. “It wasn’t too hard, I just had to hammer it out and smooth it over.”

“That was there since I got the car, I thought I’d never get it out!”

Your voice was a little shaky, and as he made his way over, your eyes were drawn to the tattoos on his chest. You’d seen him shirtless twice before, but you’d never had the chance to observe the designs up close. Slightly distorted by sweat and the grease from the underside of the car, you couldn't make them all out, and your fingers itched to reach up and trace the drawings that you had yet to discover.

He took the bottle from by your bag, undoing the cap with ease and raising it to take a gulp of the liquid, and every muscle he had seemed to shift and flex under his skin with the simple action. He wasn’t even trying, tired and dirty and sweaty and he was putting no effort in, but you were sure that you hadn't had a coherent thought for hours now. The song playing came to an end, the music fading out into silence, and you waited for the next one to come, but it never did. That was the second loop you’d put the music on, the hours having flown by, and the sun was shining in to leave longer shadows across the floor as it moved across the sky.

“You’re bored, aren’t you?”

“Little bit.” You grinned, holding up two fingers but making sure they were very close together, just to show a small amount, and he chuckled. Wiping the back of a hand over his mouth, he cleared excess water from there, before he was holding the bottle out to you. Taking it gratefully, your mouth had been dry and desperate for a drink since the moment he’d pulled away from you after that first kiss, leaving you dried out and thirsty ever since.

Taking a sip, he stepped away from you, moving to grab your car keys from the side unit and moved to the driver’s seat. The door was already open, and rounding it to the other side, he twisted the key to start the car up. The engine came to life almost immediately, no spluttering or grinding of parts, no multiple attempts needed, and it purred happily as it rotated inside itself, as though it was a brand new vehicle. It wasn’t loud or clunking, and there was no unusual sound being made. Clearly, Noah was just as happy with that result, because he cheered a little to himself.

Shifting inside, he checked various options, everything from the indicators to the headlights and the fog lights. The new bulbs were lighting up perfectly and brightly, clear and start white as opposed to the faded yellow they had been beginning to gather with age. “I am so impressed. Like, awestricken, really.”

“Thanks, kitten.'' Just when you thought you’d managed to put a cap on it, and get your head in a reasonable place, he had thrown a petname in your direction. Once again, you were speechless, thoughtless, and senseless, unable to control the dreamy sigh that was almost a breathy giggle at the sound, trying not to fawn too obviously over the new treatment he was giving you. “I think that pretty much does it.”

“So, when do I get to take her home?”

He was beaming, tapping the roof of the car and killing the engine, before nodding his head at himself. “You can drive her home right now, if you just give me a second to unhook and lower it back to the ground at the back.”

“We’re leaving?”

“You’re bored, and we’re pretty much done here.” You frowned, not having intended to bring your time to an end, as though he could read your mind, he continued on with what he had to say. “Doesn’t mean we have to say goodbye just yet. We can find something else to do.” He rounded the car, hooking a finger under your chin to tip your head up to meet his gaze. He was looking down on you with a sweet smile, nothing but peace and serenity written on his face. “You’re sure you really like me? We’re, like, total opposites.”

“Opposites attract.” You teased, his eyes rolling, and he stepped a little closer to you. The chair made you feel too low, his hair falling into his face as he leaned over you, and you stood to meet him, his gaze following you as he did.

“I thought you were just going to be a burden, you know. I thought that doing this study was gonna’ suck, and I was going to be miserable, but getting to know you has been so different so what I expected.”

Lifting his hand, his palm smoothed over your cheek, letting you tip into his touch. “Yeah, well, first impressions can be misleading. I can be pretty cool.”

“You’re the coolest person I know.” He whispered, gaze dropping down to linger on your lips for a second, and you smiled softly, his face mimicking the notion.

He stared for a second longer, before dipping down. He hesitated for just a second, a laugh carried on his breath that you barely caught, and you leaned up too. Your nose brushed his, nervous breaths shared in the hardly-existent space between you both as your lips continued to brush lightly. He dipped down, his lips pressing lightly to your own as the tension finally came to an end, and there was a smile on his lips as he did. It made it hard, the smiles that neither of you could contain, and your hand roe up to cup his cheek.

Timid pecks, delicate laughs between broken kisses as your noses bumped and lips puckered, trying to contain yourselves. Your heart was racing, he was just as nervous as you were, the new boundary as a friendship turned to a relationship, and it would take a little longer to get used. When he pulled back, a final and longer kiss pressed to your lips, that same sweetly dopey expression was on his face, warm cheeks and sparkling eyes.

“I like that.”

“I got oil on your face.” He mumbled, picking up his shirt from beside you both, shaking it out from its folded position. Hooking the edge of it over his thumb, he wiped at the smear on your face, leaning down to press a kiss to the spot once it was cleared, and your cheeks were almost aching for your smile.

He stepped back from you, lips rolling together to contain his smile, and as he walked, he was pulling his shirt up and over his head. Beginning to pump at the jack behind the car with his foot, your car was lowered back to the ground the back wheels finally touching against the concrete again. With a screeching sound against the concrete, he dragged away the piece of equipment, metal scraping on the stonework floor, and he left it abandoned in the back of the shed.

Reaching for the keys at the edge of your car, he threw them to you, barely giving you a second to catch them before he was snickering to himself at your fumbling, the keys jingling in your touch. “C’mon then. You must be excited to get back in your car.”

You nodded, slinging your bag from the side into the passenger seat, and he was holding your car door open for you, letting you settle inside. Closing it up carefully, you reached for the lever under your seat, adjusting it back to how you liked it. He’d clearly been inside, the distance between the pedals and the seat of legs much longer than yours, and as you adjusted yourself, his arms folded against the edge of the door. Plugging in the key and switching on the engine. As it tumbled to life, you were able to roll the window down, finding it much cleaner and smoother in its movements than it had been.

He leaned in more, bent at the waist as he peered inside, and your fingers flexed on the wheel. “How’s it feel to be back in your car?”

“I feel independent again.” you turned to him, the car still rumbling underneath you. “Thanks to you.”

“Well, try your air-con.” He pointed to the nozzle, all wiped down and polished inside, and you did as told. Instead of sputtering and squeaking, they came on quietly, warm air from the engine turning to cold a second later, and it was a refreshing relief compared to the heat of the day as the sun dared to meet the horizon. “Better, right?”

“Incredible.” You mumbled, daring to mess with the other controls. Your wipers didn’t scrape at the glass, but moved quietly and conveniently, and the windscreen wash was even functional, a little burst of water covering the glass and being quickly wiped away. The gear stick wasn’t so sticky and the pedals were easy to press on once again, just the right amount of pressure underneath. There were no unusual noises coming from your engine. “Almost feels surreal.”

“Yeah, well, the only thing I didn’t do is put gas in the tank, so you’re gonna’ have to do that on your way back.”

“Back to where?” You turned to him, a cheeky look on your face and he smirked, matching you, and settling a little lower until your eyes were level.

“Stiles isn’t home. We can play video games in the main room, and I can do more of this-” He leaned in, pulling you in with a thumb and forefinger on your chin. The smirk he wore became a pout, his lips pressing to your own, and there was more confidence behind it now. All of your kisses so far had been shy and scared, testing the waters and adjusting to how it felt, but now, he was a little more sure of himself. His lips teased over yours, more enveloping than a simple kiss, and you were melting into him. Leaning closer toward the door of the car, your hand was coming to brace yourself against it, finding his arm on the edge of the rolled-down window.

“I like that plan.”

“I’ll meet you there, then.” He stood up, hands patting the edge of the car, before stepping backwards. With a wave before leaving, you undid the clutch, shifting it into first gear, and creeping forwards. Weaving through the boxes carefully, you were unfamiliar with the pathways, making your way towards the road as Noah walked alongside you guiding you to the main quarter. As soon as you knew your way, he was pausing, waving at you in your rearview mirrors and walking back towards his garage shed.

The drive was much easier, a car you felt like you could rely on as you went along, and you were barely along the road before the warning light on your dashboard was flicking on to warn you of a petrol depletion. It seemed that you had only just missed the rush-hour traffic, the roads starting to clear out a thin down, and you were almost disappointed by it. It meant that you didn’t get a chance to test out all your gears and brakes, with how seamless your journey went, but the last thing you wanted was for the car to overheat as you drove along, breaking again already.

Dangling from your mirror as you checked behind, you became aware of the little tree hanging there. A small piece of green felt, the pine smell filling the cabin as you drove becoming less of a mystery, and you lifted your hand to it. Running your fingers lightly over the surface, the cupboards underneath was sturdy, the tree spinning on its string when you let it go.

It was such a small gesture, and yet something so sweet about it as it hung there. Like a permanent reminder of him, something you’d see every time you drove, whether he was with you that day or not. Pulling up into the gas station, your car came to a stop, easy and simple without a lot of stuttering and jerking motions. It was like a miracle. Hopping out, the air-con that had been inside had grown comfortable, the warm air outside was suddenly prickling along your skin, like an itch that you couldn’t get to.

Rounding to the side and beginning to start the pump, your eyes moved over the station. There was only one other car, a mother with two children in car seats in the back, who both seemed to be hyperactive. They were screaming at the top of their lungs, giggling and smacking their hands against the window, and as her eyes met your own, she gave you a tried smile. You offered a little wave, the two small children inside the car reciprocating it too, and only a moment later, her husband was appearing from inside the shop. The bell overhead jingled as he exited, jogging slightly as he put his wallet back into his pocket.

They were pulling out as you finished, letting the nozzle drip clean for a second before you were putting it back on the hook. Locking up the car and making your way inside, there was a swift breeze of air conditioning over the doorway, the air inside chilled, and it was almost a little too cold. Rows full of treats and food for road trips and hungry children, or simply just bored snacking were laid out, multicoloured wrappers that were eye-catching.

Wandering through the aisles, you built an armful of the treats, unable to resist temptations as you bought a range of everything from pretzels and chips to candy and chocolate. The cashier behind the counter was chewing gum, a bored look on his face and you thought that he couldn't possibly be older than Junior year in high school as he rang it up. Packing it all into a bag and adding your tab from the lot outside, your card was pressed into the reader. Punching your PIN in to follow it, the out of date machine took a few extra seconds to go through, before your payment was confirmed.

A full tank and a bag of snacks, and you were back in the car, tucking the recent purchases down into the shadowed footwell and out of the way of the sun that was just beginning to brush the horizon. The clock on your dash told you the veering was rolling in, the night going to be uncomfortably hot and your car started back up with ease. The display flashed for a second as the engine restarted, and then, you were on the road.

Parking up beside Stiles’ building, windows rolled up and your snacks hidden in your backpack, you swung it onto your shoulder. Three flights of stairs, one long corridor, and two knocks on hardwood, and you waited. It was nostalgic to be here waiting for him, but the nerves you’d had months ago when waiting for a boy you barely knew were entirely washed away. Swinging it open, Noah filled the doorway, a smile so bright you wanted to cover your eyes on his face as he greeted you.

“Wow, what a surprise. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Oh, were you expecting someone?” You played along, and he let you inside, closing the door behind you as you toed off your shoes to leave beside the doorway.

“You know, I was. I have a super cute girl coming over soon, so you’re gonna’ have to make this quick.” He shrugged, his hands coming to find your waist and pull you a little closer as soon as you’d put your bag down on the couch. “Oh, wow, super cute girl alert. Hi.”

You’re secretly a total dork, huh?” Leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, hand sliding down over his chest, and there was the sticky printing of a patch under your skin. Looking down to his shirt, it was navy blue now, a logo for a band you didn’t recognise beginning to fade on the front. “You changed.”

“I was sweaty and oily.” He took your hand, dragging you over to the couch, and pushing you to sit down with the other hand on your shoulder. He moved away, switching on the televisions and the console, two drinks of soda laid out before you, and he slumped down into the couch by your side. Your legs folded underneath yourself, taking the bag from the cushion it lay on, and dropping it into his lap. “A school bag. Thanks so much, just what I wanted, how’d you know?”

“Look inside.” Your eyes rolled involuntarily despite your grin, and he did as told, nimbly undoing the zip on it, and opening the bag up. Pulling out the folded brown pair, he indeed the top, peering inside at the contents.

“Oh, you brought snacks.” He stared in at them, before he was turning to you, a playfully accusatory look on his face as his eyes narrowed. “What did you do? Did you break that car already?”

“No.” You frowned, his finger coming up to poke and smooth at the wrinkled forming o your forehead. “Why do you think I did something?”

“Because all the previous times you’ve brought me food, it’s because you did something.” You scoffed, smacking at his arm and pretending it was an accident as you picked up a candy bar out of the bag, peeling the wrapper down.

“What the hell do you mean ‘all’?” You bit a chunk off of it, and he shook a bag of chips, distributing the flavour inside, before tearing it open. He crunched loudly as he placed one of the triangular chips into his mouth, twisting to face you some more.

“Okay, first time; You bought my coffee after ambushing me in my home and insulting me-”

“I did not insult you, you jumped to conclusions!” He pressed a finger to your lips, silencing your words, and grinning cheekily.

“It’s rude to interrupt people, you know.” He placed another chip into his mouth, chewing happily, and lowering his hand from your mouth. “Second time, you brought pizza after ambushing me on my lunch break.” Your jaw dropped, but you remained quiet, a huff and a scowl on your lips at his words. “Third time, you brought lasagne after ambushing me at the coffee cart.”

“I don’t like the way that you portray me.”

“Fourth time, you forced me to go out to a restaurant, which you technically didn’t bring food to, but it was still overwhelming.” You sighed, taking a bite of your chocolate, and he wiggled his fingers a little as he rode his thumb to create a fifth finger. “Fifth time, you said you were planning to bring me food but didn’t have any after the first time you ambushed me at my garage.”

“Why do you keep saying ambushed?” You scowled, his hand coming down to rest on his knee, and you pushed it away. That only made him laugh, his hand coming back, leaning down to grip just above your ankle at your calf a little more firmly, and lifting your leg up.

“Because that’s exactly what you did.” He pulled you closer, your legs slinging across his lap as he dragged you across the couch, and he looked overly proud of himself for the shocked noise you elicited as he did so. “But, somewhere between the third and fourth times, I stopped being irritated by it, and your continued persistence and unwavering enthusiasm because kinda’ cute.”

His hand came up to brush through his hair, he broke the silence with the loud crunching of another potato chip. “Can I ask you a question, though?”

“Only if you promise to kiss me afterwards.”

“Deal.” You teased, shuffling a little closer to him, and he moved the bag of snacks from leaning on his stomach to sitting beside the both of you. “You know that first time I came to see you here, when I asked you about the study? You said some really mean things about yourself, like ‘criminal’ and ‘lowlife’, what did you mean?”

His lower lip dragged through his teeth, eyes leaving yours for a second, and the sweet and joyful moment between you both came crashing down into something much heavier. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not actually a criminal. People just started that because one night I was at a bar on the edge of town that seems a little sketchy, and a bar fight broke out, The cops showed up, and a guy got stabbed. I was actually out the back smoking at the time, so, I didn't even see all the excitement.”

“I’m sorry that the rumour started, though.” Your hand sank to his cheek, thumb stroking over his skin slowly.

“Stiles got really mad when he heard that rumour, and he cleared it up on his podcast, but the damage was done. Yet another reason why nobody wanted to be my friend.” You leaned in, kissing his forehead like he tended to do for you, and he tipped up, nose bumping yours in a silent ‘thank you’ for the comfort. “I just saw myself as a low-life. I let the rumours travel, I wasn’t even trying to make friends. I let my whole college experience slip away because I wanted to avoid confrontation or stress. You might have ambushed me, and forced me out of my comfort zone, but I think someday, I’m gonna’ look back on that and be grateful.”

You grinned, forehead resting on his as your hand slipped down, finding his shoulder instead, and his head tipped a little further upwards.

“Now, make good on that promise.”

“Oh, I plan to..” You whispered, lips brushing against his teasingly. You stayed where you were, though, letting him lean in a little closer until he almost had his lips pressed to yours, before you were shifting. He huffed, chasing you again, and you repeated the action, making him groan at the brief teasing. You chuckled, his hand flexing around your ankle, before his hand was sliding up to your knee, and you laughed a little more at the needy action.

“You’re being cruel.” He whined, and you were ready to give in, fingertips pressing into the flesh of his shoulder through the new shirt, before there was muffled shouting from the corridor. Loud, and angry, only getting clearer as the voice moved closer to the apartment, and it wasn’t until there was a set of keys in the lock and the door was opening.

You pulled back, sitting up a little further as Stiles came in, but the man didn’t seem to notice the two of you yet. He was yelling, a series of curse words to whoever was in the corridor behind him, and you recognised the equally angry voice of Derek, before the door was slamming shut. He paused, letting out a loud scream of anger at himself as he stared at the closed door, and you twisted on the couch, kneeling on it with your arms braced along the back to look at him.

Hanging up his jacket, Stiles turned to you both, jumping as he saw you there. The anger remained for only a second, before it was melting away into guilt, quickly followed by sadness. His shoulders slumped, scowl becoming a heavy frown as the wrinkles loosened into something sad, and he was frowning at you both.

“Sorry for all the yelling.” He started at you both for a second longer, his lower lip practically wobbling with his sadness as his hands came up to clutch together in front of himself.

“Is this a best friend or a brother moment? I can’t tell, what did Derek do?” You tried to keep your voice low. Shifting your bag to the floor with a sweep of your hand to make space for Stiles, and shuffling up so that he could sit in the middle of you both.

“If it’s a sex thing, it’s definitely a best friend thing.” Noah added, and you turned to stare at him, incredulous above all, but Stiles let out a weak and watery laugh.

“It’s really nice to have you both here.” He came over, staring at the snacks that were laid out, and your bag on the floor, shoulders only slumping further. “I’m sorry for interrupting whatever the two of you were doing.”

“We weren’t doing much. Yet.” Noah sighed, and you twisted to him, glaring for his joke, and he shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek and trying to keep a serious face. “Okay, fine, I’m sorry. You wanna’ watch movies, or something?”

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” He kicked off his shoes, leaving them abandoned by the coffee table, and he settled down between you both. Placing a cushion on your lap, you patted it, and he shot you a thankful look before moving to lay down. Resting his head against the cushion, his feet landed in his brother's lap. “Will you stay?”

“If you want me to.” You mumbled, nails scraping in feather-light patterns along his hairline.

As you stroked his hair gently, he began to relax a little further, and once he did, he began to spill. He was steady long enough to select a film, one of the Star Trek movies, surprisingly, and he sat silently, eating the snacks that you had purchased, for almost twenty minutes. After the food was finished, though, he broke.

The volume on the television was turned down and he was dominating the conversation, spilling everything that was weighing on his mind and heart. The problems came back to Derek, and the future between the two of them concerning the end of college. Derek had set plans that he’d always been planning on, and Stiles wanted to be more flexible, but neither was willing to budge. The conversation had never come up before, and now, with only a couple of short months left until the decision had to be made.

He admitted how nice it was to have you both here, the three of you sitting in companionable silence to follow his confessions about his relationship, and Noah stretched his arm out along the back of the couch towards you. It wasn’t the night that either of you had expected, and it wasn’t the most exciting, but it was enough. Your fingers wove with Noah’s sitting along the back of the cushion, and Stiles was mouthing along with the words on the screen as the movie came to an end.

It was cooler now, the sun having passed beyond the horizon, and you’d texted Lydia to let her know where you were as dusk was setting in. By the time that the credits were rolling, the man with his head in your lap had fallen asleep, snoozing softly with snores that were barely audible. Noah’s thumb was stroking over your hand, and he leaned over, empty wrappers crinkling as he moved, before the television was being switched off.

“So, that didn’t exactly go as planned.”

“It’s okay. Stiles needed us.” You shrugged, fingers weaving through the sleeping boy’s hair again, and his face had finally gone back to relaxed as he rested. “I should get going, though. It’s getting late. We can just rearrange.”

You yawned, covering your mouth as you did. Using the edges of the pillow, you lifted Stiles' head, enough to slip out from underneath him and you stood up. Your head had gone numb a while back, the pins and needles having passed and you shook your leg to try and wake it back up. Your butt was aching, making you wobble with each step you took, and Noah grinned as he followed your actions.

Grabbing the stray wrappers and putting them back into the paper bag, he reached for one of the spare blankets, tucking it over his brother and making sure he was secure.

“Why don’t we have breakfast together tomorrow morning?”

“I’d like that.” Your arms looped his waist, and his circled your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. “Where?”

“Here, if you stay over?” You studied him for a second, and his eyes widened, a pink colour coating his cheekbones. “Not with me. Not, y’know, I mean-” His blush only deepened, and you chuckled at him. “I just meant that you can stay in Stiles’ room. He won’t wake up until the morning now, anyway, and you’re tired. It’s dark and you shouldn't have to go home alone.”

You smiled, leaving him hanging in the suspense for a second longer, before putting him out of the suspenseful misery. “I think that would work just fine for me.”

“Good.” He smiled, lips brushing over your forehead, before he was straightening up. “Can you get the lights and the locks, I’ll go grab you something to wear.”

He stepped back, letting you do as told, as you moved around the room. Checking the door first, you flicked the catch on the door and double-checked it, before beginning to turn off all of the lamps. Stiles was snoring to himself and rolled over, facing the back of the cushions and clutching the blankets up to his chin. Pressing a kiss to the tips of two fingers, you smoothed it over your best friend’s forehead, mentally wishing him a quick recovery from his broken heart, before turning out the final light.

Noah was waiting in the hallway when you arrived, a pair of sweats, a t-shirt and a jumper in his hands, with a ball of socks on top, and he presented them to you, a shy smile on his face.

“I don’t think I’ll need all of that. It’s the summer.”

“Well, you know, I didn’t want you to get cold in the night, or anything. Now you have options.” You took them from him, tucking them under your arm, his hands went into his pockets. You were both lingering, the darkness only illuminating you both from the light on in his room that was spilling out around him. “Okay, well, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Noah.” Despite the words being spoken, neither of you moved, brown eyes with wide pupils sealed on you, searching you for some kind of reaction, and he swallowed thickly. His mouth opened, more words to come, before his jaw was snapping shut again, and his brows furrowed.

“Goodnight. Again, I guess.”

“Goodnight, Noah.” You smiled, humour in your voice again, and he took a minuscule step back from you before pausing again. Taking a step with him, your hand came up, the one not clutching clothes found his shoulder, and you pressed your lips against his in a simple peck. He let out a sound that made your heart flutter, leaning in to return the affection and he kissed you back slowly, before letting you sink to the ground and step away towards Stiles’ room. He watched you go, never moving until you were giving him a final smile, and closing Stiles’ bedroom door.

Resting your back against it once you were inside, you heard his bedroom door close too, and your heart was beating so fast you could feel it all the way to your fingertips. The day had been nothing like what you’d expected, a whirlwind adventure from start to finish, but you didn’t regret a thing.

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