#id hand him a cigarette and he’d light that shit up before it was in his little grabbers

[spooksier]

learning reality shifting from tiktok teenagers just so i can get into tears of the kingdom hyrule solely to give link a cigarette

[sadhours]

infected boys 2

billy hargrove x steve harrington

cw: 18+ minors dni, first person pov, internalized homophobia, smut, tommy hagan/billy hargrove, oral sex

summary: billy makes a move, steve doesnt feel the same way

read on ao3

“Show at The Hideout,” I tell him, fucking with my zippo.

He’s sitting on my bed, back against the wall and ankles hanging over the edge of my mattress. Looks sad.

“Can I tag along?” Steve does his best impression of a puppy dog. Big eyes. Pouted lips. I narrow my eyes at him from over my shoulder.

“It’s not really your scene,” I inform him, reaching for my bottle of Aquanet to spray some finishing touches on my bangs. “It’s a metal show.”

Steve groans, I can see him kick his feet like a toddler in the mirrors reflection. Makes me smile, turning to him completely as he knocks the back of his head against my wall, “I’m bored. Please.”

I put my hand on my belt as I keep smiling at him. Steve wants to spend time with me and that realization is pretty exciting. He looks at me with furrowed brows, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I laugh, loud and my chest rumbles with it, “‘Cause you’re eighteen and throwing a fit like a petulant little brat.”

“I don’t even know what that word means,” Steve rolls his eyes and kicks his feet again for good measure, “Just let me come with. There’s nothing else going on tonight.”

I scoff, “It describes you perfectly. You got a fake ID to even get in?”

Steve’s face flushes, “I’m kind of too known around here to have one. But I’ve gone there before. They serve me.”

I turn back to the mirror, picking up my cologne and splashing a bit on my fingers before dabbing it on my neck and chest, “Hard to imagine you at a place like that.”

He shrugs, stands up from the bed and wanders behind me. Snatches the cologne out of my hands and brings the bottle to his nose, “This stuff smells as cheap as it is.”

I scowl as I tug it out of his hand, “Not helping your case here, asshole. Besides, I get compliments on it. You gotta rely on your daddy’s bank account to get chicks?”

I know it’s not true, ‘cause Harrington’s as pretty as they come. And to chicks, it’s all about the hair and Steve has the best head of it in this shit town. His bimmer helps too, I’m sure.

“No, but it helps,” he rests his chin on my shoulder as he looks at my reflection in the mirror. My face reddens from it and I know Harrington can see it. Makes my whole body tense and I get the urge to push him off but I don’t, because I can feel his breath fanning against my neck as he says, “C’mon. Lemme come. I’ll buy your drinks.”

I chew on my lower lip, stare him down in the mirror because this feels like a come on but Steve’s straight. There’s no way that’s what this is. If it was, he’d grab my waist and he’s not so… what the hell is he doing? Finally, I gather some fucking self control and shrug his chin off of me.

“Fine, Harrington,” I groan and wind my elbow back to knock him in the chest, “You’re such a whiny little shit.”

He grunts from the impact, steps a couple of feet back and rubs his chest. Then he’s smiling and I kinda wanna hit him again.

“Can’t wear that shit, though,” I say as I reach for my pack of smokes, pinching a cigarette out and perching it between my lips. “You look like an ad for the fucking Gap.”

“That’s where I got this shirt,” Steve admits, looking a bit ashamed as he peers down at his striped polo.

Shaking my head, I light my smoke and then walk back to my closet. Scan for options for the guy. For some reason, I really can’t imagine him in a button up. So I settle for a worn black shirt. One I usually work out in, tug it off the hanger and toss it at him. Next, is pants, I’d rather be dead than be caught with a guy in khakis. Black Levi’s I never wear, mostly ‘cause they got a gnarly hole in the ass but that fits for tonight and for Steve. So I toss them at him too before I look down at his feet. Nikes.

“What size shoe are you?” I ask him.

Steve looks like he can’t remember. I confirm it as he sits on the edge of my bed and takes his shoe off, folds back the tongue and looks at the label. Does his mom do all his shopping? How does this man not know his shoe size?

“Uh, 9 and a half,” he says.

“Huh, me too,” I say, suspiciously as I grab my Chucks and hand them over. “Alright, wear that and you can come with.”

“Is this really necessary?” Steve asks with a raised brow.

I blink at him, completely serious as I say, “I’m not walking around with you wearing an outfit your mom picked out. It’s a metal show, Steve. You can’t wear khakis and a polo. I’d have to kick your ass. Keep up my cred.”

Steve makes a face as he takes off his other shoe and then moves to unbutton his khakis and yeah, okay, I’m watching. “What cred do you even have? The fuck does that mean?”

I lean back against my dresser, eyes still on him as he stands and peels his polo off midst wiggling out of his pants. I look at his chest hair. Part of me jealous I can’t grow that much and the other part of me turned on by the tuft of hair. I cross my arms, “I got plenty of cred. People respect me.”

His eyes roll dramatically as he steps into my jeans. His thighs don’t fill them out like mine do but as he turns to pick up the black t-shirt, I notice his ass does. God, it’s gonna make the tear in the jeans bigger. The shirts baggier on him. I’m built thicker than him. Steve doesn’t work out like I do. He goes on runs but doesn’t lift any weights. He sits back on the bed to put on my converse.

He stands and his hair is coiffed too perfectly. And I do something I shouldn’t, because it makes me feel hot with arousal but I snake my fingers into the thick hair and shake it around, messing it up. I like the way his hair feels. I wanna pull it. So I do, to be a dick but Steve hums and when I pull back we just look at each other, blinking and silent.

“We should go,” I mumble out.

“Uh,” he clears his throat and nods, “yeah.”

We take separate cars to his house, just ‘cause I wanna drive and Dad’ll bitch about Harrington leaving the BMW there. So he parks in his driveway and runs over to my car, slides in the front seat and looks at me with a wide smile. Like a fucking golden retriever waiting for a treat. Steve’s excited I let him tag along. It’s pretty cute but I reach over and shove his face.

“Stop looking so happy or I’ll kick you to the curb,” I grumble, “At least try to fit in.”

“What? Metalheads don’t smile?” Steve quips back with a sarcastic frown.

I grab a cigarette and perch it on my lip, light it with my zippo and mumble around the filter, “Nope.”

When we get there, they ask for my ID but let Steve in with no problem. Makes me scowl at him as they fasten the paper wristband on him and then we immediately head to the bar. Take a pair of shots and clink our beer bottles together. I drag him into the crowd as the first band is coming out. The singer screeches into the mic, loud and shrill and it hits me right in the chest. This kind of shit makes me feel something. The guitars wail alive, followed by bass and drums. Has me bouncing on my feet and rocking my head back and forth. Distracts me from the preppy boy who begged to follow me tonight.

The crowd sways violently with the music, pushing Steve and I with it and I grip tightly onto my beer, try to gulp some of it down but Steve gets knocked into me and I spill it down my chest. But I don’t care. I’m buzzing and jumping along. Head banging with the best of ‘em.

Then Steve’s hand is clenching my shirt and his lips are against my ear as he yells into it, “It’s really loud.”

I look at him like he’s stupid because really, the hell did he expect? “No shit, Sherlock!” I yell back and watch as Steve’s face scrunches up in a wince as he gets knocked into again.

And this is fucking stupid, because I feel bad. This isn’t his thing and as much as I’m enjoying myself, I can tell Steve isn’t and I want him too. So I grab onto his shirt and pull him out of the crowd and out of the bar. Into the parking lot where people are just hanging out by their cars. We toss our now empty beer bottles and walk to my car.

“Sorry— that’s like, insane in there,” Steve mumbles and looks ashamed, or guilty?

“Told ya, pretty boy,” I lean against my car and spark up another smoke, “Not your scene.”

“Yeah… that’s for sure,” he sighs and leans next to me, “I should’ve brought my car.”

“Nah,” I shake my head and pass him my smoke, he takes it and his fingers are shaking as he brings it to his lips. “We can go find some other trouble to get into. Nice and quiet for you, pussy.” I grin with the insult, so he knows I’m joking.

“The quarry is always quiet,” he mumbles out, crossing his arms and I nod slowly, taking the cigarette from him and rounding the trunk of my car.

“Let’s go, then,” I tell him.

And we spend the rest of the night at the quarry, until the sun comes up. Just shooting the shit and laughing at nothing. Steve lets me crash at his place.

—

Tommy’s basement is musty as hell. Don’t think his mother’s been down here since he turned 15 ‘cause he leaves his porn stash out along with a roll of toilet paper and a bottle of lotion. Funny, Dad doesn’t want a fag for a son but he’d still whoop my ass if I ever left out of my skin mags. I mean, it don’t take much for him to whoop my ass but the irony ain’t lost on me.

Steve’s busy which is the only reason I’m even at Tommy’s. He’s leaving for college soon. It’s a wonder how he got in somewhere but Steve didn’t. I didn’t even try. Dad’ll only let me attend the community college or a trade school. If I can’t leave Hawkin’s then there’s no point in going to school. At least Steve’ll be stuck here too.

“You been brown nosing Harrington a lot,” Tommy says as he watches me roll a spliff. I’m bound to get a headache, the weeds dry and I spent ten minutes picking out stems from it.

“You sound jealous,” is all I reply with. Tommy’s got a real hard on for King Steve. And he’s absolutely shit at hiding it. Brings him up in like ninety percent of conversations.

Tommy scoffs, crossing his freckle covered arms over his chest as he kicks his feet up on the coffee table. Knocks off his bottle of lotion but doesn’t move to pick it back up. “Yeah, right. Guys’ fucking lame, now. What the hell do you guys even do?”

I pout as I glance at Tommy, make my eyes as wide and sorrowful as I can muster, “Sad you’re not invited? That it?”

“No. Steve doesn’t even party now,” Tommy huffs, “I’m sure he’s fucking boring.”

“Can you go like one day without talking about Harrington?” I bite back, “Swear to god, you’re like obsessed with him.”

“You bring him up a lot too,” Tommy mumbles and then we both sit there silently like a couple of idiots. But it’s like Tommy gets it or something because he sighs and says, “oh” all dejectedly.

So now we’re two pathetic fucks in love with a straight boy who has no fucking clue. And we both know it.

“What do you guys do?” Tommy asks, quieter than before.

I frown, licking up the side of the rolling paper before sealing the joint and bringing it to my lips, “Nothing.”

I light it, close my eyes as I inhale and tilt my head back when I exhale. The weed tastes old but it’s Indiana. Never as good as the shit back home.

“Nothing?”

“We get stoned, we get drunk, we play basketball,” I list off, “Sometimes we watch movies. He doesn’t like scary ones. We’ve watched Terminator like a hundred times.”

“Steve and I used to do that,” Tommy sounds sad so I hand him the spliff. He takes it and can’t make eye contact with me.

“He’s fun,” I say.

“Yeah,” Tommy sighs.

We silently smoke the spliff, sip on our beers in between. Harrington’s heavy on both our minds. I feel all gooey inside thinking about the fucker and from the screwed up expression on Tommy’s face, I know he’s bitter. Butthurt and jealous. Bogarts the joint like a fucking asshole and I keep having to remind him to share. Even if it’s his weed. I rolled it. Tommy can’t roll for shit, told me Harrington would do it for them. I get it and I almost feel bad for the fucker. Steve’s dreamy. He’s good company. He’s all I can think about— he’s all Tommy can think about and that might be more pathetic than me. ‘Cause these fucks have known each other their whole lives. And when Steve talks about Tommy, it’s like he feels sorry for him. But Tommy’s nothing but wound up anger when it comes to Harrington. Anger that Steve didn’t like him back like that.

“You seen Harrington’s spank bank?” I ask, curious if they did what he and I did.

Tommy smiles fondly, sinks further into the couch as his cheeks swell and ruddy, “Yeah. Helluva collection. I was with him when he got his first Playboy. Snatched it from his dad.”

“It’s so organized,” I reply softly, thinking about how my stash is pathetic compared to the both of them. Because I’d rather look at dudes and Tommy is fine with cranking it to women.

Tommy laughs, “He bookmarks his favorite pages. It’s kind of creepy.”

I chew on my lip, wishing Harrington was. Wish he was a fucking faggot, degenerate like I am. Like Tommy is.

“Speaking of,” Tommy sits up, squeezes his knees with his hands and asks, “Wanna put on a tape?”

I look at him, breathe slowly. How do I tell him this shit? Do I even have to? I just wanna jerk off to Harrington these days. I’m not gonna get hard from a straight porno.

“Nah, Tommy,” I shake my head and ignore how rejected he looks. The weeds giving me a headache. I just wanna go home suddenly. But dad’s there and I can’t be stoned in front of him. So I gotta wait until the high wears off.

—

Steve’s parents are away for a weekend. He asks me to spend the night. Says he rented some movies from the video store. But when I actually get to his house, he’s got a record on. Some pop music. He’s got a bunch of juice, fruit, alcohol and cups on the counter. Sways his hips with the music as he cuts up a lime. I’m sure he’s gotten an early start with the booze. Face flushed like it gets when Steve’s drinking. His hair falls down in front of his face and he shakes his head to push it away. The suns lightened his hair, these lighter strands highlighting the thick chestnut locks and fuck, I love it. He’s pretty. Smiles at me as he shakes his hips, I get an eyeful of Harrington’s ass as I round the counter. It’s shockingly fat compared to the rest of him. I rest my elbows on the counter as I look over at the mess he’s making.

“You trying to be a bartender, Harrington?” I tease, looking up at him as his cheeks swell with a smile.

“Something like that,” he slurs, only slightly though. His eyes look so green from the sun shining in the kitchen window. It’s gross. It’s disgusting how fucking cute he looks. Wearing a plain white t-shirt and his retired Hawkins High gym shorts. I wonder if he’s been in the pool today. The red in his face might be a sunburn and not the tequila.

“Wanna try one?” he offers, sliding by me to retrieve ice cubes from the freezer. I get a whiff of him as he passes by and my eyes almost roll back. Steve’s fucking rank but in the sexiest way. What the hell was he doing before I got here? How did he work up so much of a sweat?

“Sure. What have you been doing, Steve?” I ask, chuckling softly, “You smell like a dirty gym bag.”

A dirty gym bag I’d risk getting Athlete’s foot on my dick rutting against.

“I went on a run!” Steve explains, eyes wide and happy as he starts dropping ice cubes in a coup glass. “It was nice, really got a great runners high.”

“Had to take a shot of tequila to come down?”

Steve’s eyes narrow at me, “Billy, if you’re just gonna judge my lifestyle choices, you can go back home.”

“I’m teasing you, pretty boy. Gimme a shot,” I make grabby hands at him, “Lemme get on your level.”

Steve pours me a shot, but pours himself one too. We cheers before we take them. Mama Harrington buys good tequila. Doesn’t leave a bitter taste in my mouth, barely burns down the throat. Steve finishes mixing my cocktail and I hum as I sip it.

“Might have a career ahead of ya, Harrington,” I tell him honestly. “It’s good.”

“I just made it up,” he babbles off an explanation of how he’s made the drink and I’m full of this overwhelming feeling. I wanna kiss Harrington. I wanna pin him against the counter and kiss him stupid. Wanna shove my nose in his armpits and feel him all over. God I’m so disgusting. This is bad. This is so bad.

“Shut up, I don’t care,” I seethe, looking at his lips. They’re so pink and pretty.

“Oh… okay,” Steve visibly deflates.

I fucked up. He was excited about this and I ruined it because I’m fucking gay for him. And mad that I am. I down the cocktail and set it down, “Got any beer?”

“Yeah, in the fridge,” Steve waves his hand and starts to clean up his mess. Brings the dishes to the sink and doesn’t look at me.

I walk over to the record player and turn it off, I know Steve doesn’t own anything good so I’d rather not listen to music. Then I go and pour two more shots, “C’mere. One more shot and we can watch that movie.”

Steve obeys me, still looks all deflated when he stands before me and holds up the shot glass. We down them and stand there, just looking at each other. He looks like a puppy dog. He’s pretty. He’s handsome. Hate how much I like the fucker. But he’s just staring at me. And this ain’t some pissing contest. We’re friends now. So I’m stupid because I think Steve wants to kiss me too.

I lean in, grab hold of Harrington’s waist and crash my lips into his. And fuck. Fuck. Oh shit. I’m kissing Steve. I’m fucking kissing Steve. His lips are soft and… and they’re not kissing back. But he’s not pulling away so I keep kissing him. Try to slip him some tongue and that’s when he pushes me back.

“Oh, Billy…” his eyes are all shiny, “I’m… I’m not gay.”

I close my eyes, take a deep breath and the idiot keeps babbling on.

“But I’m okay with it! Robin’s gay and she’s my best friend! I’m okay with it, really!”

I don’t say anything. Open my eyes and look at him briefly, before I head for the door. Ignoring the way I can feel the tequila. All I can feel is the rejection and the fact I just outed myself to Steve. I slam the door behind me, not looking back before getting into the Camaro and driving off.

—

I don’t see him for a week. Not until I’m dropping Max off at the arcade. And he’s out front with his gaggle of kids. Smiling and laughing with them. He even waves to me when I pull up but I pretend I can’t see him. I tell Max I’ll be back in a couple hours.

Spend most of my time with Tommy and the fucker can tell something’s up.

“Something happen between you and Harrington?”

“Yeah, he’s a fucking loser,” I mumble, playing with my zippo and pouting. Harrington is a loser. A cute, handsome fucking loser.

Tommy claps his hand on my shoulder, “Glad you see it, now.”

I see it the same way he does. We don’t mention how we were both rejected by the guy. Not a single conversation about how we’re in love. How Steve is pretty and grand and still the fucking King. How a guy like that can never really lose the title. I’m fucking sad about it. Lay awake at night, kicking myself for kissing Harrington. For thinking he was fucking flirting this whole time. I call him. Every fucking night and when his sleepy voice picks up, I slam the phone back on the receiver.

“Yeah,” I mumble. “Such a pussy.”

Tommy sucks his teeth, shakes his head and tells me, “You should’ve met him before Nancy. She really changed him. Carol worshiped Steve. Ya know how hard it is to get Carol to worship you?”

“What? He eat her out?” I ask, rolling my eyes and Tommy’s body stiffens. Oh. Steve did, Steve absolutely ate Carol out. Heather wasn’t fucking around. He got the whole vagina owning graduating class.

“Maybe.”

“Heather wasn’t lying,” I scoff and laugh. “Fuck that guy. Weak for some mediocre pussy. Nancy isn’t even that hot.”

“She’s not hot at all!” Tommy raises his voice, jealousy taking over him. It’s kind of cute. I bite my lip. If I can’t have Steve, maybe a fun time with Tommy’ll do.

I knock my ankle into his, “Hey, let’s put on a tape. I’m bored.”

Tommy moves fast, scrambles to slam a VHS tape in the VCR. It’s in the middle, stopped whenever Tommy came. A couple, in a backyard. On a blanket on grass and the guys eating out the woman. I think of Steve. Assume Tommy did too.

I scoot over, thigh flush against Tommy’s once he sits back down. I put my hand on his knee, smooth it up his thigh and turn to look at him. Tommy’s cute. I like his freckles and his lips. So I lean in and kiss the corner of them. He’s quick, moving his head to capture my lips in his. Tommy lets me know he’s desperate with his mouth and I haven’t really kissed a guy since I was home and I.. I hate that I prefer it.

I kiss him deeper, slip him some tongue and squeeze his thigh. The fucker moans into my mouth, sucks on my tongue and turns his body so we’re facing each other. I reel back so Tommy can lay against the armrest and I crowd in between his thighs, cup his jaw as I keep kissing him. Grind down against him and he’s grabbing handfuls of my ass. I’m getting hard, trying not to imagine it’s Steve under me.

He writhes against me, it’s heady. Makes me feel powerful. Wonder if I’m the first guy Tommy’s fooled around with. Can’t imagine him and Steve doing this because it turns me on like nothing else. I pull back and ask him, “You and Steve kiss?”

“Once,” he whispers, pulling me down on him closer. Rolls his hips up.

“You watch him eat Carol out?” I ask.

“Uh huh,” he nods, smoothes his hand up my back and pulls me back down for another kiss. “Jerked off while I watched,” he mumbles into my mouth.

My hips jerk forward on their own volition. I bite Tommy’s lip and pull his hair, eyes on his when I ask, “You ever suck dick?”

“N-no,” he stutters out.

“Want to?”

“Please.”

I pull back and sit against the cushions, “C’mon then.”

Tommy sinks to the ground between my legs, fingers fumbling with my buttons but he manages to get my pants off. Bats his eyelashes up at me, like he’s seen Carol do, I think.

I knit my fingers in his hair and roll my hips up, “Suck my cock, Tommy.”

He groans, it’s low and guttural and I help him get my underwear down. My cock springs out, excited and leaking at the promise of another man’s lips around it. He grabs it, hard. Squeezes the base of it and I moan, letting myself relax. Tommy won’t tell anyone. He can’t admit he did this.

Tommy’s lips are pretty and pink as they wrap around the head of my cock. I’m met with the warm wetness of his tongue. Rubbing against my head. It’s ten fold better than a woman. Tommy’s cute and I forget about Steve for a while. It's easy to be into this. I grab another handful of Tommy’s hair and coax him further along my cock. Groaning when I do and he returns it, voice vibrating along my cock and I feel it in my sack. Can’t help but jerk up at his face, pushing further down his throat.

His hands grab my thighs, lets my hand guide him up and down. Keeps blinking up at him. I don’t last long. Shooting down his throat and he gags with it, spitting my spunk over my cock as he pulls off of it.

“Stand up,” I tell him and he listens. “Get your dick out.”

Tommy’s all dumb, struggling to get his jeans and underwear down to his thighs and I sit up straight as he gets his cock out. I wrap my fingers around the base, hold him steady and get my lips on him. Suck at the head, keep squeezing the base, not allowing myself to imagine Steve because then I’m really gonna suck his cock. And Tommy’s a lot smaller than Steve. But his freckles go all the way down to his cock and I dig it. Think that’s cute. I give him the best fucking head he’s had. Swallow his cum and then feel disgusting after. But the high’s worn off and I have to pick Max up.

Steve’s still there when I get there. I hold his eye contact this time. Flip him off when he waves.

“Why aren’t you hanging out with Steve anymore?” Max asks once we’re a block from the arcade.

I snort, light up a smoke and exhale it right in the little brats face, “None of your fucking business, shitbird.”

“He asked how you were doing,” she mumbles, body almost completely facing the passenger door. And she says it so quietly I barely heard her.

And alright, that’s a strange feeling in my stomach. I just laugh though and for some reason, I tell her, “Dude’s such a fucking faggot.”

But maybe I’m talking about myself.

Max doesn’t say anything else.

—

There’s Steve. A woman on his arm. Why he took her to this diner is laughable. I’m in a booth with Carol and Tommy. We make eye contact as him and the blonde sit down. Steve’s facing me and I can see the back of his date’s head. Her perms cheap and the bleach has fried he hair. Steve wears a striped shirt. His eyes don’t move past me or his date. Won’t look at Tommy or Carol but we all meet him with shit eating grins. Ready to fuck with him.

“Harrington bringing his date here instead of Enzo’s?” Carol cackles, “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“Fucking pathetic,” Tommy agrees.

I frown and pick up a handle of fries, “Harrington knows a cheap whore when he sees one. Picky with daddy’s mastercard.”

Carol and Tommy giggle and I stretch arms over the back of the booth, eyes locked on the pretty ones that belong to Harrington. Chewing rudely on the fries as I formulate my next move. I’m gonna fuck up his date. I just have to figure out how.

I feel the bitter sting of jealousy as I stare at the mess of permed hair taking Steve’s attention. Can’t help but think he’s into blonde curls and how mine are natural and not from a bottle. His body language is anxious. Eyes keep darting from the slut to me. I lick my lips before smirking, showing him my teeth. I wanna walk up, slink into the booth beside Harrington and kiss him filthy. Grab his junk and make out with him in front of this bitch. Hate her because she has something Steve wants. And I’ve been staring at my dick in the mirror, pissed it’s not what Steve’s into.

I light a cigarette, suck on it harshly, hollow my cheeks out. Wonder what he’s been saying about me to his posse of preteens. The jealous and anger bubbles up so much I find my feet stalking over to the couple. I do sit beside Steve and get a good look at this bitches face. It’s pretty. I haven’t fucked her and I wonder if I could steal her out from under Steve right now.

“Hiya, doll,” I wink at her before stretching my arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Nice date?”

She looks stoked, eyes like stars on Steve and I grip his shoulder, pulling him closer as I turn my head to face him, “Why wouldn’t it be? He has it all. Great hair, pretty face and the richest parents in this shithole.”

“I’m having fun,” she giggles out, eyes locked on Steve fucking Harrington. And why wouldn’t they be. His skins clear, bright and so soft. I wanna lick his face as I look at him too.

“I bet you are,” I smirk, move my hand to the back of Steve’s head and card my fingers in his hair, “Maybe he can bring you home and show you his freak porn collection.”

“What?” The girls face falls.

“Oh, yeah. Big ‘ol tub of it. Organized very precisely,” I tell her, unable to hide the grin spreading across my face. I tug on his hair. He looks pissed. “He uses sticky notes as his bookmarks. Man jerks off like the IRS is gonna come audit his spank bank. Huh, Stevie Boy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve mumbles.

“He’s being humble. Must’ve spent a fortune on the collection,” I say as I use my grip on his hair to shake his head. I move my hands to the table and lift myself up, “You kids have fun, now!”

I walk back towards Tommy and Carol and sink back down in the booth, watching as Steve’s date rushes away from their table and the lanky boy follows,

“What did you do?!” Carol squeals, cheeks fluffy and swollen from joy.

“Told her about his killer porn collection,” I say, reaching for my glass of coke with a satisfied smile.

[junkh3ad]

Can you share more of your teen/ SnB Pickles headcanons pls?

OHHHOHOH ANON I LOVE U, I’ll start off with teen pickles

He’s ambidextrous! I feel his mothers a religious type so she’d try to ‘beat the devil out of him’ (whacking his hand with something when writing left handed, which would have been common practice for his generation. It happened to my dad as a kid!) and Pickles quickly finds he can write with both hands, So he switches a lot. Lefty when he can, Righty so he doesn’t end up with ruler marks on his hand.

He’s scared of the dark when he’s a kid, before the garage incident because Seth use to scare him in the middle of the night. He gets a night light and becomes a light sleeper to keep an ear out for him.

As a teenager he’s really into drawing, he draws Wizards and Dragons and listens to Led Zeppelin on his walkman.

He starts smoking at like 13, Cigarettes and Weed along with his drinking. This is where that Punk ass look comes from, i think he’d go to a lot of basement punk shows and mosh and get fucked up.

Snakes N Barrels

Since he’s 16 when he leaves home, i think it takes about a year or so for him to find Snakes N Barrels. He uses a fake ID to get his audition. They don’t find out he lied about his age until he’s already 21 and they’re like…you’ve been 21 for 5 years? what?

He’s on a lot of drugs dude (canonically) but he’s really deep in the trenches (H*roin was big in the 80s/90s) which we know drugs had a lot to do with the downfall it SnB but i think Tony’s the one who gets him hooked on the harder things.

I think he cross dressed A LOT in SnB. Mini skirts, brallets, thongs, the whole nine.

He doesn’t talk about it but he doesn’t care who he sleeps with, at all. Men, Women, as long as they’re over 20. He had to do a lot of shady shit to get to where he is, so he’s got somewhat of a head on his shoulders.

When it all ends he buys a shitty van and drives his way cross country to Florida, having his fun along the way (see this post i made if u want more context on what i mean) before he meets Nathan and everyone else.

[neonblessing]

10.

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT! ⚠️ Click here to read Neon Blessing from the beginning!

Club RED was a labor of love. A cyclopean eye of neon tubes stared down at the street from the facade of a beautiful temple to excess, bathing the darkening street in bloodred light which played through the mist kicked up by a nearby waterfall. The building was dark glass and darker stone, three stories tall and culminating in a domed roof. It wasn’t even 5 pm, but the line was pouring out the door and onto the sidewalk, foreign raincoats and umbrellas standing side by side with wet-haired Diluvian partygoers.

Shiv had never entered a nightclub through the front before. There’d been one club, the Magpie, that she’d frequented with her friends, but the owner was one of Ornarch’s devout and always let them skip the lines. Huh. She hadn’t been to the Magpie in years. She wasn’t even sure if it was still in business.

The line moved quickly, and before long, she was at the door. “Let’s see some ID.” There were two bouncers, identically dour and militaristic-looking men who loomed over her like a pair of sunglasses-clad statues, their suits custom-made to fit over the bulky structure of a mil-spec exocloak. Thin seams in the skin of their faces suggested the presence of subdermal armor plating to protect what the mechanized armor didn’t. One of them handled a scanner with the practiced care of a guy whose grip could crush a human skull.

Shiv showed them the card. “Kooler sent me.” The one with the scanner stared her down while the other barked a few quick words into a headset. If shit went south, the only viable exit was ducking the rope to the left, but Headset would make a grab for her and if those huge hands got a grip it was over. She’d need to distract him first, maybe blind him. Throw her coat in his face? She started to shrug it off her shoulder, just in case. Scanner continued to glower at her in a prolific display of disdain. He should be too far away to do anything, but just in case-

Headset spoke, snapping her out of her planning.

“Hm?” She’d missed what he’d actually said.

“Go on in. The boss is on the second floor.” Shiv pulled her coat back over her shoulder and brushed past the bouncers and into the club. She pushed her way past a heavy curtain of soundproof fabric and replaced the endless roar of the streets with the endless roar of Club RED’s speakers.

Water poured down gilded fountain walls and colored lights arced and scattered through thick smoke, produced by a mix of sweet-scented cigarettes and industrial fog machines. Waiters and waitresses wearing practically nothing served a very peculiar clientele: half of the patrons were exactly what she’d expected, the sort of wealthy-looking folks willing to spend fifteen credits on a can of beer; and the other half were all grizzled paramilitary types. The burning coal glow of their cybernetic eyes stared out at her through the fog, automatically seeking out her vital organs before flicking back to their drinks.

Shiv scaled the stairs to the second floor, taking a moment to look out on the dance floor from the balcony. The band’s frontwoman was more work of art than human, her limbs all formed from sweeping lines of carbon fiber and steel. Her guitar plugged into a port on the back of her neck, her quicksilver fingers dancing over the strings with surreal grace. She had a voice like an angel with a smoking habit.

“She’s quite something, ain’t she?” A woman’s voice came from behind Shiv. She turned to see Kurtz, for who else could it be? The owner of Club RED was maybe forty years old, a little shorter than Shiv, and built like a brick. Her head was clean-shaven, revealing dozens of tally mark tattoos, in sets of five, spreading from near her temple and across half of her head. Unlike everyone else, she was dressed simply and practically, in sturdy black pants and a tank top, and unlike everyone else, she had a gun at her hip, an antique revolver. Both of her eyes were red: one eye was flesh, with an iris that had either been dyed or transplanted. The other eye was metal, the iris glowing the exact same shade as the vast eye on the front of the building. She carried herself with an easy confidence, bordering on arrogance. “Are you the one Kooler mentioned?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Joan Kurtz, owner of Club RED and REDEYE PMSC. What brings you to my door?”

First Page – Previous Page – Next Page

[heavyhighlandheart]

Hawkins Hellraiser Pt.3

Chapter Three: The Hideout

Summary: You head to The Hideout to find Corroded Coffin have a gig there. Eddie protects you from conflict with the locals.

Warnings: swearing, mention of bad relationship with parents, descriptions of violence, physical assault and knives, mention of attempted SA, underage drinking

Pairing: Eddie x non-gendered reader

w/c: 1.6k

Everything was pissing you off lately. You got a D on your latest Chemistry assignment, you turned up late to Math because this shithole of a school can’t put decent directions on the walls, and then that asshole Munson destroyed your book. Oh, and to top it off, your good-for-nothing excuse of a father forgot your birthday, again. Too ‘loved-up’ with his twenty-something girlfriend to give a shit about his real family. Even your mom was pushing it. You could usually tolerate her or at least find a common ground in conversation, but she had spent the last four nights clinging to a bottle of merlot and bitching on the phone to her friends back in your hometown about how the world was against her. Listening to your heaviest cassettes wasn’t enough to drown out her whining. She didn’t even notice you slip out the front door on Tuesday evening. 

You were still getting used to the neighbourhood and only vaguely knew the walking route into town. You were alert, half expecting a stranger’s approach as you wandered alone at dusk. You’d been jumped before, just before you moved to Hawkins. “The local freak deserves a proper send off, don’t you think?” That’s what those fuckers said, right before they pushed you to the ground, kicked you in the ribs and yanked at your hair. Thankfully the little shits were pretty weak and you came out with just a few bruises and scrapes. It left you with a hardened outer shell though, difficult to break or bend. Your encounter with Munson last week was the closest anyone had come to rattling that shell, it stunned you. He’d been a total dick, he knew it, and you hated him for what he did. But your mind fixated on his big, brown eyes and the way he held himself, assured and controlled. A tiny part of you felt welcomed by him, intrigued even, but your guard stayed up. 

The streetlamps of downtown Hawkins neared, and you found yourself just off the main strip. Seeing as neither of your parents had bothered to spend your birthday with you, you fancied a small celebration of your own. Neon lights catch your peripheral vision and you turn to see ‘The Hideout’ shining from across the street. Any bar suited really, all you wanted was an excuse to get a drink. You’d just turned 18, but you carried around a dodgy ID in your back pocket for such an occasion as this. 

The room was dark and the air felt heavy and thick with smoke. Two red-faced drunks sat at opposite ends of the bar; each bumming a cigarette but only one with a drink in his hand, the other looked like he was lost in the thoughts of a better time. A couple of truckers stood playing pool, the stench of beer oozing from them. Their stare matched yours, and you eyed them as you made your way over to the bartender. “Whiskey and Coke, ple-” you’re cut off by the sound of electrical feedback. You turn suddenly, squinting into the darkness and see a meagre stage setup in the corner of the room. Four bodies come into focus, aligning with their instruments - drums, bass, guitar and vocals. The bartender passes you your drink, and you briefly note that he hadn’t even asked for your ID. Electrical feedback continued as wires were plugged in, the tinkling of a crash cymbal bouncing off the walls. 

“Good evening, Hawkins.” 

A gruff voice found the mic, its creator clearly pressing their lips to the metal with how muffled it sounded. 

“We are Corroded Coffin.” The drummer counted them in with a tap of their sticks 1..2..3..4. 

The guitarist began, a sweet riff that you instantly recognised as Paranoid by Black Sabbath. As they opened the song, you realised who you were looking at, The Hellfire Club. Well, four of them at least, and Munson was on guitar. Dressed all in black, he wore a bandana around his head and donned a leather jacket; his ringed fingers wrapped around the guitar neck. At the sight of him you were filled with loathing. You took too large a sip of your drink, the whiskey burning your throat, and you hissed through your teeth. 

It filled you with hate that he was up there, probably having the time of his fucking life. You hated his stupid bandana and his ridiculous friends. Hated the lingering smell of cigarettes that followed him and the way he’d mess his hair up with his hands to re-style it. You hated that he was a good performer. A fucking insanely talented guitarist. But the thing you hated most was that you were actually enjoying their set. You necked your drink and demanded another. 

Eddie was deep in concentration, now delivering a powerful rendition of Seek and Destroy by Metallica. He’d played it hundreds of times, but somehow he felt like this time really mattered. Closing the song, Eddie lifted his head, his hair already in tangles from headbanging and beads of sweat starting to form at his temples. He wiped the sweat from his upper lip with the back of his hand, his rings reflecting the stage lights above. He turned to grab a sip of beer from behind him, a pint glass perched on a Marshall amp. 

Crash!

The members of Corroded Coffin turned to the source of the noise. The truckers were laughing and the drunk who’d been lost in thought was now out of his seat and talking gibberish. You were drenched in whiskey and coke. Your hand had slipped as the bartender had passed you a fresh one, spilling it down yourself and smashing the crystal tumbler on the floor. You dabbed yourself down with the bartender’s dishcloth. 

“Hey, Blondie! You good?” Eddie called from the dark, half laughing, half sincere. He could only make out your hair in the terrible lighting, but who else could it have been? He’d also never seen that incredible figure on anyone else in Hawkins, so knew instantly it was you. 

“Fine,” you huffed, taking off your jacket and fanning your top dry. You heard Eddie say something to his bandmates but were interrupted by the boozy truckers before you could try and eavesdrop. 

“Well, well, that’s a damn shame,” the slightly drunker one said, grinning at your now almost see-through top. 

“We’ve got spare clothes in the truck if you want ‘em?” the other one gestured to the truck parked out front. You give them a defiant glare. “C’mon, we won’t bite.” They both moved closer, touching your arm, your lower back, anything their greedy hands could reach. “Hey wh- fuck- get off me!”

“HEY!” 

Eddie shoved one of the leches to the ground and grabbed the other by his neck, pinning him against the front door. He pulled a swiss knife from his back pocket and put the cold blade to his throat. The man squealed and whined in fear, you could’ve sworn that he even pissed himself. 

“I think it’s time you boys took a hike, huh?” Eddie growled, tilting the blade to position it against the trucker’s pulsating jugular. The man nodded profusely, slowly raising his arms in defeat. Eddie pulled open the door and shoved him outside, the one on the ground clambering to his feet to follow. He kept his knife pointed at them until they were back in the truck, spitting on the ground where they had stepped. He turned, closing his blade and putting it back in his jeans.

“You’re welcome, Blondie.”

“I had it under control,” you snarled, “I didn’t need your help”. You knew that he saw the lie behind your eyes. In truth, you were afraid. Teenagers and jumped-up kids you could deal with, but grown men with evil intentions were another bag. You’d played out in your head so many times what you would do if anyone tried to put their hands on you, the self-defence moves to play and the discreet weapons you could carry. But your mind had gone blank. Whether it was the alcohol, the unfamiliarity of The Hideout, or the fact that Eddie’s guitar playing had secretly been sending waves of pleasure throughout your body, you had completely faltered. 

“Sure you did, it looked completely under control before I stepped in,” Eddie grinned, that wicked smile again. You were trying so hard to hide your weakness, that whiskey has really kicked in, you thought.

You sighed, putting your hand across your forehead and pushing your curls from your face, “thank you, Munson”. 

“Eddie,” he smiled, “just Eddie”. 

Your mouth curved at the corner, “thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smirk faded, realising that now was his chance to get on your good side. All he wanted was to be close to you, listen to you, learn from you, find out who you were. He’d had to be bad to coax a reaction out of you and get you near to him. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t enjoyed it though. 

“Listen, I, uh- I’m sorry… about the book”. You were taken aback, he actually gave a shit? “The guys were pushing me to do it and I, uh…” he sighed and shrugged his shoulders, “I was a dick. A total, big, fat, chunky dick…and an asshole.” You breathed out a laugh, struggling to make eye contact with him now. “And look, if you want to be left alone, I totally get it, okay? If that’s what you want, your wish is my command.” He gave a short bow and stepped back, giving you space to answer. 

You looked him in the eye now, those brown eyes that sent your heart fluttering. You smiled, turning away to grab your jacket. His gaze never left your face. You approached him, and placed a hand on his arm, “see you around, Eddie”.

[mourntheantagonist]

day one: lingerie

requested by you

read on ao3

He found himself always circling back to the little club on fourth avenue every Friday night without fail. It wasn’t even on his route home, but Steve would call it a scenic detour, because in all essence, it was. He’d tell himself, as he put on his signal to move into the turn lane he didn’t belong in, that he just wanted to look through the windows just for a second. Just a peek. Just a glance. He’d lie to himself and say he admired the lights on the sign out front—he didn’t give two shits about the sign out front.

He’d drive past, and some days he would keep driving straight until he finally pulled into the parking garage under his building. Those days he’d sit alone in his empty apartment, watching whatever was currently on television and stuffing himself with microwaveable popcorn and drowning himself in beer, trying to forget about the little glimpses of red lace and golden skin he’d caught in the corner of one of those windows.

Other days—the weak ones—he’d stop, or turn around at the light just twenty feet down the road, and pull into one of the parking spaces out front. He’d try to see whatever he could through the highly tinted windows, and that cash in his wallet would scream at him to man up and walk inside. He wouldn’t. He’d just sit there smoking a cigarette letting his heart beat out of his chest at just the thought of walking through those doors, and drive home when the night took over.

It wasn’t like he’d never been to a strip club before. Hell, his buddies at the office liked to host their monthly meetings at one of the sleaziest strip clubs in town where they drank whisky on the rocks and stuffed singles in whatever article of clothing the girls had left on. The difference was, Steve had never been to a strip club like this, and he sure as hell had never wanted to go to one so bad either. It was the combination of uncertainty and desperation that kept him glued to his driver’s seat, and his wallet full of cash.

Until the day he actually grew a pair and walked through the front doors. It was after a particularly frustrating night at the office. Everything seemed to be going to shit with his accounts and to top it all off, it was time for the monthly “office meeting” and Steve, well, if he was going to any “office meeting” he’d have to choose a different venue.

So, he feigned illness and drove directly to the club on fourth—for once it was a destination and not a detour. It took him a moment of sitting there, and smoking through the rest of his pack to finally get the courage to walk inside, but what made this time different from all the other times before was the fact that he actually walked inside. No more living inside the fantasyland of his own head.

He walked in and was instantly blinded by the bright blue stage lights. He made a move to walk forward, shielding his eyes as he did when he bumped into something large.

“Sorry.” Steve muttered upon the realization that something large was actually a human being.

“Can I see some ID?” Oh fuck it was the bouncer.

Steve felt so out of his element, shaking as he reached into his pocket for his wallet and slipping out his ID, not paying one single look to the bouncer, but rather trying to see past the blinding lights to remind himself of why he walked into the club in the first place.

The bouncer’s laugh pulled him out from his trance. “First time, kid?” he asked, and Steve didn’t answer, he might’ve rolled his eyes at being called a kid considering he was encroaching on thirty, but mostly he just stood there. The bouncer handed his ID back to him and ushered him off with no more than a “Don’t touch my dancers!” as a farewell.

Steve had been hoping it would become less nerve wracking the further he walked into the club, but when he finally could see past the lights enough to see the dancers on the stage, the first things he laid his eyes on was a man on a platform wearing nothing but a speedo that was two sizes too small. If that wasn’t overwhelming, the sheer amount of people inside and all the noise was. It was nothing like the ones he had been to before—the mostly empty bars filled with sleazy old men who were drunk off their asses. The inside of this club was clean, and the crowd of people was largely young, and it was all so different from what he was used to.

There were also the dicks. Those were also very different from what he was used to when it came to strip clubs.

Steve maneuvered around the club until he found himself a stool up by the bar where there were even more scantily clad male dancers, some dancing, some laying flat on their backs and letting people pay to take body shots off of them.

All Steve learned from watching that scene was that the no touching rule could be forgotten for the right price.

He was still beyond on edge, so used to quiet and quaint, so used to Friday nights spent on his couch alone. He raised his hand and called the bartender over, excited to order himself a gin and tonic rather than the whisky on the rocks that was always forced into his hands. Steve glanced around the room as the bartender started pouring his drink, and he caught a glimpse of one of the strippers giving a lap dance in the corner.

The way Steve’s stomach dropped could only be attributed to one thing and one thing only, and that was how badly he wanted one for himself.

“Make that two.” Steve said to the bartender, who just gave him a knowing look as he pulled out a second glass.

Steve basically chugged the first glass, and sipped the second. He was trying to get himself as drunk as possible as quickly as possible because fuck, there was shit he wanted but damn if he had the courage to ask for it.

So Steve sat there. He drank, he looked around, and he drank some more, and even more. Time passed and Steve kept looking—kept trying to find a speedo-wearing man he was willing to empty his wallet for—but he kept coming up empty handed, and wallet full.

None of the guys seemed to be his type, which was odd considering no two looked even remotely the same—the only commonality being the metallic blue speedo’s that they all wore like a uniform. Steve was beginning to wonder if that was just it, what they were wearing. Steve wasn’t passing by the club every day after work because he was hoping to see some guys dancing around with their junk one tug away from hanging out. If he wanted that, he’d go to the beach.

What Steve wanted was what he saw hanging out outside of the club that one late night, cigarette in between lips painted red with a lace getup to match, legs bare in the cold night air, huddling for warmth inside an oversized denim jacket. He wanted the blonde curly hair and the mean look and the soft edges of floral lingerie he knew he’d seen in the corner of the window where the tint had peeled off.

Delicate. Soft. Gorgeous.

Where was that?

Steve waited, and waited for the speedos to disappear. He looked, and looked for the pretty little thing he just knew he could feel the presence of. Steve had nearly a grand’s worth of cash in his wallet, and he knew exactly where he wanted to put it.

It was getting late, and he was beginning to think he was going to end up dropping more on the alcohol than on the dancers. He slipped a few twenties to a couple of the guys who walked across the bar in front of him, but only as a way to keep him from getting kicked out for attempting to catch himself cheap glances, of which Steve wasn’t even the least bit interested.

It was getting late and he was starting to wonder if he should have just stayed in his car. Hell. He should’ve just gone to the “office meeting” because at least there he wouldn’t look like a loser sitting by himself surrounded by five empty glasses and having the poor bartender pour him a sixth.

Hey, at least Steve was a good tipper.

It was getting late and Steve was about ready to throw on his jacket and walk out when suddenly, the lights dimmed and the blue hue of the club had gone pink. In his slightly drunken stupor, his hearing was muffled and he couldn’t quite make out what the DJ was saying over the loudspeaker. But, fortunately for Steve, his eyes still worked and that’s all he needed to enjoy his night.

His eyes followed the spotlight to the stage behind the bar that for the majority of the night housed not a single dancer. There were poles that were going completely unused and that was the glimmer of hope that had kept Steve in his seat all night. Surely someone was going to use them, and Steve would be damned if he wasn’t going to see it.

Behind the curtain, in between the gaps where it didn’t quite reach the floor, Steve saw a pair of wildly shimmery heels.

He recognized those heels.

They were the same pair of pleasers he’d seen that curly blonde bombshell wearing the night before.

Steve was practically holding his breath waiting for the curtain to finally open. Eyes locked on those silver heels ready to blind him like the stage light had when he first walked in…except, he’d happily be blinded by something that gorgeous. He could honestly say if it was the last sight he were to ever see, he would be grateful.

Steve was literally on the edge of his stool. He was more so leaning than he was sitting with his feet on the floor doing most of the work to hold him upright. He stared and he stared until the music finally started to blast through the speakers and the spotlight not longer shone on a blank curtain, and rather the gorgeous lace-clad body that had been haunting Steve’s dreams every night since the moment Steve first saw him.

Him. Steve would only manage to make that distinction when the man in question had bypassed the curtain in his eight inch pleasers and red lacy lingerie. The bulge in his little panties became a much more pleasant sight than all the dicks he’d been looking at earlier wrapped in too-tight swimwear.

And by god, Steve was right, he really was gorgeous.

He had cherry red lips to perfectly match the lace, long and dark eyelashes that made his eyes look so big Steve could see the blue so clearly even from the unfortunate distance they had between them.

The man took the stage and walked over to one of the poles. There were other dancers on the stage, but Steve was too focused on just one of them to notice anything more than that there were other bodies there. Steve let his eyes trail down the man’s chest, seeing a gold necklace dangling from his neck that read ‘Honey’ and that was when Steve’s ears finally began to work and he could start hearing the other patrons in the club saying the word.

“Hey Honey!” one of the men at the bar with him called out. Steve turned his attention over there for just a second to see the man waving a single around in the air.

Steve rolled his eyes, and it appeared the man on stage did also, taking his leg around the pole and looking anywhere other than in the direction of the cheapskate.

The gorgeous man was suddenly looking at him. Steve felt all the blood rush to his cheeks as the man—Honey—began spinning around the pole, never taking his eyes off of Steve for longer than a second of time. Steve was hardly the gentleman in any of it because while Honey was giving him intense eye contact, Steve’s eyes were trailing everywhere else. Trailing down to his legs that adorned sheer black stockings held up by the straps of his garter belt. Back up to his chest, the bralette top covering what needn’t be covered, and Steve could only be thankful. Somehow the lace coverage felt far more erotic than all the practically naked men that had been surrounding him all night long.

Steve remembered the money in his wallet, and remembered the guy who got shot down for taking out a one dollar bill, so of course, Steve knew what he had to do.

He quickly pulled his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill, holding it in between two fingers and finally making eye contact with Honey.

Honey looks back, noticing the hundred in his hands and Steve doesn’t fail to notice the way the corners of his mouth turn up just slightly. Honey does a few more moves on the pole before climbing off the Stage and walking across the bar over to where Steve is sitting. Suddenly, Steve’s got an up close and personal view of those pleasers, and he can see every single little detail in the lace that’s just a foot from his eyes.

Honey squats down to get closer to Steve’s eye level, and he’s honestly impressed by just the balance alone. Honey plucks the bill from Steve’s fingers and tucks it into his bra, not letting his gaze leave Steve’s for even one second.

Honey then took a thumb and a decorated finger and pinched Steve’s ear lobe, tugging gently, and leaning down even more until his mouth was almost pressed up against his ear.

“If you’ve got any more of that in your pocket, wait for me in the back over there.”

Steve shuddered, and he wasn’t totally sure if it was from the heat against his skin or the suggestions Honey was making, but Steve just nodded, smiled, and left Honey to continue working that pole.

A half of an hour went by and Honey and the other dancers left the stage. Steve had tried not to be jealous whenever another person gave Honey a tip, but it was helped by the fact that Honey was constantly looking over at him, not for even a second of the routine forgetting he was there.

Steve felt a wave of…something…come over him when Honey was finally out of the room. It was like the high of everything had suddenly disappeared, and he was left with his own thoughts rattling around inside of his head. He needed another drink.

He ordered another gin and tonic and then walked himself over to one of the tables near the back of the club, right over where he’d seen that guy getting a lap dance earlier.

Steve sat there and counted the bills in his wallet, he had six hundreds and a couple of twenties left, and he was hoping that he’d end the night with an empty wallet, and when Honey had whispered in his ear, that reality seemed promising.

It took roughly another fifteen minutes before Honey finally emerged through the same door that all the other dancers had been walking in and out of—the door Steve had his eyes glued on since he’d sat down and started waiting.

Honey was still wearing the exact same getup, heels and all, the only difference was that his bra was no longer drowning in filthy cash. Honey found Steve quickly, and Steve couldn’t be so sure if it was because Honey had just remembered that face of his so well, or if he could just smell the scent of a hundred dollar bill from a mile away, and could see Steve waving it around like a treat.

Honey came over to him and took the hundred and stuffed it into the waistband of his panties. “You lookin’ for a lap dance pretty boy?”

Steve felt like he was a kid again, so shy he could barely speak, caught in the bright light of this man’s beauty. He just nodded his head.

“Imma need you to say it out loud baby.” he said, and god, his voice was like music.

“Yes.” Steve choked out, nodding his head even harder. “Please.”

Honey smiled down at him and placed his hands on Steve’s shoulders, walking forward with a leg on either side of Steve’s chair until Steve’s had a face full of Honey’s torso.

God, he was really a dancer. Steve found himself gripping the underside of his chair the whole time, the friction of his ass rubbing against the front of Steve’s slacks was making it hard to breathe and Steve knew he needed to touch something—himself, Honey, he just needed to grab hold of something.

So he grabbed his wallet and handed Honey another hundred. Steve didn’t say out loud what he was asking for, but that didn’t matter because apparently Honey could read minds.

Honey took the bill from Steve and responded by pulling Steve’s hands up and bringing them to rest on his hips. “What’s your name, pretty boy?”

“Steve,” he said, “um, what’s yours?”

Honey smiled at him and took a seat in his lap, no longer moving around, just looking at him.

“Around here they call me Honey,” he said, “but you can call me Billy.”

Billy. Steve smiled, mouthing the name to himself, feeling so nice on his tongue. “I like that name.”

“I like yours too,” Billy said. Billy said. “very moanable.”

Steve felt his cheeks go pink, and his heartbeat skyrocketed and he was so sure that Billy could feel it with how hard it was pounding.

Steve traced his hands up and down Billy’s back, loving the way the lace felt against his finger tips. The texture almost had a calming effect to it. Which he needed, because he was back to staring into Billy’s eyes, deep blue, and he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander away, down, down to those bright red Cherry lips that looked like candy…

“How much for you to let me kiss you?” Steve asked, the first bold thing he had done all night since walking into the place. Steve was pulling out his wallet, ready to count out the cash when Billy placed a hand on his, pushing it away, and Steve felt so stupid…Billy was a stripper…he wouldn’t kiss him for a lousy hundred dollar bill…what was he thinking—

Steve’s little self deprecating train of thought was rail roasted by the feeling of lips suddenly being pressed to his, and Steve felt his breathing stop completely as he sunk into the softness and relished in the sweet taste of whatever Billy had painted his lips with.

Steve felt like he was living for the first time in a very long time. Kissing Billy made the world finally make sense, which was ridiculous, because Steve never pictured himself falling for a pretty male stripper, especially so fast. But there he was, falling hard, and Billy was so pretty that he couldn’t exactly be all that bothered by it. He’d let the illusion play out for as long as fate would allow him.

The taste of Billy’s tongue was like a drug, and something about it gave him a newfound sense of confidence that he never once thought he could possess. Steve pulled back, and traced a finger through that gorgeous mane of blonde curls, looking deeply into those ocean eyes.

“Think there’s a chance we could take this somewhere more private?” Steve asked, pointing his eyes back to the wallet on the table.

Billy smiled and laughed. “You know I’m not a hooker, right?”

Well, that drained every bit of confidence Steve had sequestered from the kiss. There he was, red faced, blushing like a tomato, heart beating out of his chest, sort of wanting to die.

“Shit, sorry, I just—” Steve’s rambling was cut off, just like his thoughts before, by another kiss. Steve was weak, so he sunk into it, seeking comfort in the softness of his lips.

Billy pulled back too soon, which left Steve leaning forward, chasing more of Billy’s kisses. Steve opened his mouth to speak again, but Billy placed a finger to his lips.

“I’m not a hooker Steve,” he said, and once again, Steve wanted to die. But then Billy smiled something devious. “So that just means this is something I gotta do for free.”

Steve’s heart was no longer racing. No. It had fucking stopped.

“Yeah?” he asked, and he felt like a little kid asking it.

Billy stood up and held out his hand to Steve. “Think that thick wallet of yours can buy us a fancy hotel room?”

Steve just nodded his head aggressively and let Billy pull him to his feet.

“Good, cause I got some other outfits I’d like to show you.”

God. Fuck.

Yeah, Steve was glad he skipped out on the “office meeting.”

[atlafan]

Regular Thing - One Shot

a/n: okay, here’s bouncer!Harry, or bouncerry as I like to call him. this turned into a longer thing than I thought, and it’s a no strings attached type situation. there is A LOT of smut, enjoy! (reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated) not proofread, sorry! 

Warnings: SMUT

Words: 14K

Being a bouncer in a college town wasn’t Harry’s intended career of choice, but it was a decent enough gig while he was in grad school. He was sort of over partying and boozing himself, so he didn’t feel like he was missing out much. It was fun at first, letting people in, turning others away. He took his job very seriously, never giving into the people that would flirt with him when the bar had reached capacity.

“Sorry, you’ll have to wait until some people leave.” He would say to them. The girls would push their boobs up and try to look as convincing as possible, but it never worked on Harry.

That was how the beginning of the night usually went. He’d stand outside for a few hours checking ID’s, and listening to the chatter of the people that would come out for a smoke or for some fresh air. He sometimes had a co-worker outside with him on the busier night, but most of the time it was him. Then he’d head inside and help grab empty glasses and survey the scene for overly drunk people. The bartenders would nod towards specific people and Harry would get them the fuck out.

It was tough at a college bar because people would often come to the bar already smashed. Their parties would get ruined by noise complaints, so everyone over twenty-one would come down to have some more fun. That’s not to say people wouldn’t try to sneak in, that’s when more of the flirting will happen.

“I just wanna dance with my friends, please? You can even stamp my hand.”

“No can do, come back in a few months.”

Harry was going for his MBA, and wanted to be a business owner someday. He got paid well as a bouncer, especially since he had boxing experience. His boss knew he could take care of business when need be. His boss, Greg, had taken him under his wing. Not only did Greg own the bar, but he also owned some off-campus apartments. He told Harry once he had his MBA a property manager job would be waiting for him. It would be an incredible start for Harry as buying and selling homes was something he really wanted to get into. He even wouldn’t mind owning the bar, or some bar, himself one day. He had time to figure it out.

For now, he was perfectly complacent working Tuesday through Sunday (technically Saturday, but the bar closes at 1:30AM), getting free drinks and food when he wanted, and listening to music. Luckily, his classes were either online, or in the afternoons, some were even weekend intensives, all of it was manageable.

//

Y/N worked at the university in town, also going for her master’s, but was only able to do so through her benefits as an employee. She didn’t get to go out that much, pretty much only when her friends were in town. One of her good friends, Mike, was in grad school for biology, and when her friends would come to stay with him, he’d invite her out. She had explained that unless it was a small thing at his place, or a night at the bar, she couldn’t really party with him or them if it was somewhere else. Nothing would look worse than her boss seeing her on barstool sports, hammered and popping her ass at some off-campus party where there could easily be people underage. It just wasn’t worth the risk.

Y/N only had guy friends, who she just referred to as her boyfriends. It wasn’t on purpose, it just sort of happened. She started hanging out with them her junior year of college when they were seniors, and they all just clicked. She had dated one of them earlier in the school year, but none of them put two and two together until later. She sort of absorbed them as a friend group, and the one she dated never really came around much.

Mike: hey, Y/N! The boys are coming into town this weekend. We plan to go to the bar Friday and Saturday night, will you come out???

Y/N: hey! Omfg I’d love to!

Mike: great! Can’t wait to see you

Y/N: same here, who exactly is coming?

Mike: Danny, Rob, Drew, and Conor

Y/N: amazing!! It’s gonna be a great weekend

//

There was a local band playing tonight. Harry didn’t love the way they sounded, and most people couldn’t wait for them to finish their set so the dance floor could open up, but it was a nice break from all of the overplayed music. The DJ on Fridays always spun the same tunes.

It was starting to get a little colder out at night, and even though Harry had been doing this a while, he still couldn’t quite understand how some of these people came out half dressed. People were coming in herds, and Harry had to turn a good chunk of them away. There was a $3.00 cover charge to see the band, but no one ever carries cash, and Harry couldn’t let them in without the cover. Simple as that.

He noticed this girl walking down to the entrance by herself. She had her hair up in a cute ponytail that flowed, and she was wearing skinny jeans with some booties, the jeans look to be high-waist. She was wearing a wind-breaker and a crop top. Not totally bundled up, but certainly more sensible than what many of the other people inside were wearing. As she got closer he could tell she had some light makeup on, but her eyes were done up. Whatever shadow she had on made her eyes pop.

Y/N had been to this bar many times, but not in a long time, and never at the hour Harry worked. Or maybe she had, but she had never really noticed him. As she approaches she gets her ID out and ready.

“Hi.” She smiles at him and hands him her ID to check.

Clearly not already intoxicated, good sign, he thinks to himself.

“Evening.” Harry mutters as he shines a small light on the ID, double checking it before handing it back to her. He catches her name; Y/N.

“Thanks.” She starts walking towards the door.

“There’s a cover tonight, three dollars.”

“What?” She scoffs. “Very funny.”

“Not kidding, we have bands a lot on Friday nights now…”

“Shit, it would have been nice for my friends to let me know, I would have stopped to get cash.” She fishes her phone out of her pocket. “And there’s never any service over here, ugh.”

Normally Harry would turn someone like this away, he would tell them where the nearest ATM was, and to have a nice night. But she looked up at him with wide eyes, and he couldn’t help himself. He sighs heavily and then speaks.

“Do you plan on drinking once you’re in there?”

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

“If I let you in, do you promise to tip the bartenders really well to make up for the three bucks?”

“Are you serious?” She perks up. “Yeah, of course!”

“Alright, go ahead.” He nods towards the door.

“Really?”

“Yeah, have fun.” He smiles, something he rarely did to the patrons.

“Thank you so much.” She smiles back and heads inside.

“Mate…” Niall, the other bouncer says. “Did you just let a girl flirt with you to get in?”

“No.” Harry scoffs. “I felt bad for her, that’s all. She looked panicked. Her friends clearly didn’t communicate with her properly.”

“Right.”

//

Inside, Y/N makes her way around to find her friends. She grins when she sees them all sitting down at a high top. She walks up and smacks Mike’s arms.

“Could have told me there was a cover.” She pouts and he gets up to hug her.

“Sorry, we didn’t know either. The bouncer made us go to an ATM.”

“It’s fine.” She says as she sits down and puts her jacket on the back of the seat. “He let me in for free.”

“Of course he did.” Conor rolls his eyes. “And don’t sit down, you have hugs to give out.”

“You’re right.” She giggles and gets up to hug all of her friends.

“We got you a drink already, at least.” Danny says, sliding it over to her.

“Ah, thank you, boys.” They all clink their glasses and get to drinking.

The band wasn’t terrible, but Y/N was definitely ready to dance with her friends. As soon as they packed up, and the DJ got on the turntables, they all made their way to the dancefloor. Y/N loved dancing with her friends, they always made her laugh, and the sleezy guys around usually left her alone. She could feel how lit she was and she knew she needed to slow down. Harry was at the point in the evening where he was standing inside, scoping out the scene. You walk by him giggling with Drew, you needed some fresh air and he needed a smoke.

“Shit, it’s cold out.” She says as she unties her jacket form around her waist.

“Mm, these keep me pretty warm.” Drew smirks as he takes a drag from his cigarette.

“That’s a nasty habit.”

“I only smoke when I drink, chill.” He chuckles. “You offered to come outside with me.”

“Certainly wasn’t going to do it alone.” You wobble a bit as you stand. You hear a song you love come on and you both look at each other.

Drew puts his cigarette out, and you both run back inside, whipping right by Harry. He notices how your friends are people he made go to the ATM earlier. He also noticed they were all guys. He figured you weren’t dating one of them, if you had a boyfriend you probably would have said so, and if you had a proper boyfriend he either would have come with you to the bar, or would have waited for you outside.

“Hey, Greg wants you outside again.” Niall says.

“Why?”

“Because I guess the town cop is coming tonight to make sure people leave safely, and Greg knows you won’t say something stupid to him.”

“Oh, Tom’s coming? Love that guy, he’s so chill.”

“If you say so.” He shrugs.

“Alright, I’ll go back out.” Harry sighs and goes back out, pretty much forgetting about Y/N until it was 1:30 in the morning, and she was walking out with her friends.

She was laughing hysterically about something, and Harry was making small talk with Tom. She stops short in front of Harry.

“Hey!” She smiles.

“Y/N, come on.” Mike tugs on her arm.

“Hold on.” She scolds him and looks back at Harry. “I did what you said.”

“Which was what?”

“Tip the bartenders well.” She bats her lashes at him. “You let me in without the cover, which was super nice, so I wanted you to know I did what you said.”

“Oh…um…good, thanks.”

“Come on, Y/N, I’ll give you a piggy back ride back to the apartment.” Mike says and she immediately gets excited. Y/N hated walking anywhere while she was drunk.

Harry watches as she hops on the man’s back, and wraps herself around him happily as the group walks up the small hill to the street.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you at such a loss for words.” Tom nudges him. “Thought the college girls didn’t affect you.”

“They don’t…and she’s not just some college girl, she’s a little older, I saw on her license. She’s around my age.” Harry shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve never seen her before, and I’ll probably never see her again.”

//

Or so Harry thought when she came strolling down with all of the same guys. This time around she had a ripped pair of black skinny jeans on, not so high-waist, Harry could see her belly piercing, and she was wearing a white crop top. Her hair was half up, and flowed down her shoulders. She looked pretty, gorgeous really. All of them were giggling over something, and it was already 11:30, so Harry assumed they had already started drinking.

“Hello.” Y/N smiles and hands him her ID.

“Evening.” He says as he shines the light over the card. “All set.” He says as he hands it back.

“No smile tonight?”

“Go inside, would you?” He says as he checks the other ID’s.

“Too bad.” She giggles. “You have a nice smile.”

“Y/N.” Rob hushes her and leads her inside.

“Hear that, mate, you got a nice smile.” Niall jokes.

“Shut up.” Harry grumbles and crosses his arms.

//

The boys all wanted to play pool, which Y/N sucked at, so she just happily stood by sipping her drink, swaying to the music. She munches on popcorn, and notices Harry going around collecting empty glasses and bringing them behind the bar. She notices how he smiles at the bartenders, letting them nudge him playfully.

He looks over and sees her looking at him and his eyes widen. Instead of feeling embarrassed, she keeps looking at him. She smiles and bites the straw in her drink, and his face flushes before turning away. Harry wasn’t an easily flustered man, so he was extremely confused. When he looks over in that direction he finds her cheering on her friends. He wondered why you weren’t playing, billiards weren’t that difficult.

Later on when she was on the dance floor with her friends, they point over to the door where Harry was effortlessly carrying someone out.

“Damn, that guy must have been fucked up!” Danny says.

“Yeah!” Mike says.

“I wonder how I could get him to pick me up like that?!” Y/N says and the boys laugh.

“Are you gonna try to pick him up?!” Conor says.

“Not tonight, it’s boy’s night!” She backs her ass up to Drew and he laughs as he dances with her. “But maybe another time, he’s cute!”

“Last night was boy’s night.” Rob scoffs. “Go on and get yourself some.”

“Maybe when he’s less busy.” She laughs.

Harry was about to go on a fifteen minute break as he was carrying some empties to the glass racks. Right when he was walking back to the main area, he bumped into someone, causing them to spill their drink on the floor.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He sighs.

“Oh! No, that was my fault, I…” Y/N looks up at Harry. “I should have been more careful.”

“Can I get you a new one?” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Really, it’s okay, not that much spilled.” Harry nods at her. “So…you work here, that’s cool.”

“Yeah.”

“Saw you toss that guy out, does that happen often.”

“Maybe a couple times of week.” Harry shrugs.

“You seemed like you were in a hurry, am I keeping you from something?”

“No, I was just headed for my break.” He looks her up and down, she was so pretty, and maybe it was the couple of shots he had in his system, but he was feeling more bold than usual. “There’s an office in the back I usually go hang in for a bit…it’s quiet.” He steps a little closer to her.

“Do you wanna show me?”

Harry nods at her and she smiles. She follows close behind him to the back office. Now, normally this wasn’t something Harry did. Hooking up with drunk girls while he was barely inebriated himself wasn’t an activity he participated in often. Having worked at the bar for a good chunk of time now, though, he’s able to tell that she’s fine. She can stand on her own feet fine, and she’s not wobbling around.

“How many drinks have you had?” He asks as he closes the door, locking it.

“This is my second.” She says as she places it on the desk.

“And before coming down?”

“Just a couple of shot.” She shrugs. “How long is your break?” She walks towards him.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“And how would you like to spend that little chunk of time?” She says as she presses her hands to his chest.

Harry’s answer is to cup her jaw and lean down to kiss her, which she happily accepts. Her lips were sticky-sweet with the cranberry juice from her drink. He runs his tongue over her bottom lip before sucking on it. She tugs on his shirt as she balls it up in her fists. His hands move to her hips to walk her back towards the desk.

“Is this okay?” He whispers against her lips.

“Yes.” She smiles up at him. “You’re right, it is quiet in here.”

Harry smirks at her and attaches his lips to hers again. Her hands splay across his back, and she runs her nails down the length of him. She’s back up against the desk with his leg between her. His hands slide down to her ass and he squeezes what he can, getting a gasp from her.

“Um, what’s your name?” She says as he kisses from her jaw to her neck.

“It’s Harry.” He mumbles against her.

“I’m Y/N.” She grunts as his teeth graze her soft skin. “That feels good, but I don’t think you have time for all that.”

He moves to look at her, eyes pleading to have him just touch her already.

“You really wanna do this?” His asks as he grips onto the waistband of her jeans.

“Yes, would have tried to last night, but I was way too fucked up.”

“And you’re not tonight?”

“Nope.”

“How do you want it?”

“Just bend me over the desk.”

A soft groan leaves Harry’s lips. He undoes her jeans, and slides his hand inside to get a feel for her, and her back arches. She bites her bottom lip as his fingers graze over her folds.

“Just wanna make sure you’re wet enough for me.” He kisses her again as she grinds against his hand. She whines when he takes his hand away. “Turn around.” She nods and braces herself with her palms gripping the edge of the desk.

“Wait!” She says and rummages through her purse. “Condom.” She gives him a shy smile as he takes it.

“Good catch.”

He tears it open with his teeth and undoes his belt and zipper, tugging his boxers and pants down just enough to get his hard dick out. He rolls the condom down his length. You tug down your own jeans and panties. The lights in the office were dim, so neither of them felt over exposed. It was the perfect atmosphere, really.

He sucks his fingers into his mouth and reaches between her folds again, finger her for a moment or two just to make sure she was good to go.

“Please.” She whimpers as she looks over her shoulder at him.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Harry nods and grips her hips as he slowly pushes inside her. Y/N’s mouth falls open as he keeps feeding it into her.

“Oh my god.” She breathes.

“Alright?”

“Yeah, you can move.” She looks at him briefly. “And remember, you have to be quick.”

“Want it fast, is that what you’re telling me?” He smirks and she nods with hooded eyes.

Harry pulls almost all the way out and slams back into her. She gasps, but she encourages him to do it again. And he does, over and over until he gets a comfortable rhythm going. He was drilling into her, but she seemed okay. He snakes an arm around her chest so he can grope at one of her breasts. She arches into him, and her head falls back against his shoulder. He licks into her mouth while his other hand works to rub her clit. She moans into his mouth, and he hooks an arm around his head to tug at his hair, causing him to moan into her mouth. He slows his pace up to focus on her. She was moving her hips in sync with the motions of his fingers on her clit.

“Fuck.” She groans. Her breathing gets heavier and faster and she bites his bottom lip to stifle her cry. She bucks into his hand as she climaxes.

“Okay.” He breathes, and pushes her back over the desk. He grips both of her hips and gives it to her full forces. “Good?” He grunts.

“Y-yeah!” She gasps. With each stroke he was hitting deeper and deeper, brushing her g-spot. “D-don’t stop.”

He could feel his orgasm bubbling at the base of spine, and his stomach was starting to tighten. She was squeezing around him, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last, especially when he looks down at the way her ass bounces back against him.

“Shit, fuck.” He moans out as he releases into the condom and he gasps when he feels her squeeze around him again, another release of her own coinciding.

He pulls out of her slowly and wraps the condom in a tissue before throwing it away. He didn’t need Greg giving him a tough time. He pulls his pants back up all the way and watches as she does the same.

“Sorry, I don’t have any rags in here, uh-“

“It’s okay, I’ll just go use the bathroom.” She wipes his fingers under eyes and looks at herself using the camera on her phone. Her voice was a little hoarse now, so she takes a sip of her almost forgotten drink. She makes a relieved noise once the cool liquid hits her throat. “Look at that.” She says, pointing to the clock on the wall. “You’ve got two minutes to spare.” She winks and leaves him standing there.

“Holy shit.” He says to himself as he makes sure the office is in order. He scarfs down a granola bar, and heads back into the bar. He looks for Y/N, he wanted to make sure she was okay.

There she was, back on the dancefloor with her friends. She was grinding back against one of her friends, who could only assume was one of her friends, he could easily be her second fuck for the night. Harry furrows his brows and then snaps out of it. It was a simple one-night-stand, if one could even call it that, he felt good after his release.

Last call on a Saturday night never failed to irritate Harry. There was usually a few different girls that stayed until the last second to try to pick him up, but he never went. Those girls were usually way too drunk, and it just wasn’t worth it to him. He was behind the bar now, helping the bar tenders get the last few orders in, and square up some tabs. He sees Y/N walk up to the bar with one of her friends.

“I’ve got it, Y/N.” Conor says.

“No, you’re not paying for me again.”

“Technically Danny got all the drinks last night.”

“Yeah, so it’s my turn.”

“Your money’s no good. Hey, man, put everything of hers on Donovan.” Conor says to Harry and he nods.

“No! I can pay for my own drinks!” She laughs at her friend. “You’re the worst.”

“We’re just taking care of you, Y/N.” Conor puts his arm around her and she leans her head on his shoulder.

“Here.” Harry slides the card and receipt to Conor. He looks at Y/N and she looks at him, a grin growing on her face, and a blush growing on his. “Have a good night.” He says more so to her.

“I don’t think it could get much better than it already is.” She says to him.

“Not true, we’re gonna go stuff our faces with pizza and have a group snuggle, what’s better than that?” Conor says to her as he signs the slip and leaves a decent tip.

“Oh, god, yeah, I really need to snuggle right now.” She says to her friend with a pout.

“I’ll bet.” He winks at her and leads her away from the bar.

Harry’s face turns beat red. Did she tell them what she went off to go do? He didn’t want rumors being spread that the bouncer fucks. He needed to keep some authority, after all. People start leaving, and others linger until the lights flip on at closing. Harry helps clean up and gets everyone out of the bar. He hadn’t seen Y/N again, but that was okay.

“So, you had a good break.” Niall teases him as they head to their apartment, which was conveniently just above the bar.

“What do you mean?”

“Saw you go into the office with that girl.”

“So what if I did?” Harry shrugs. “Not like you haven’t done it before.”

“Oh, I’m not judging at all, please know that. I’m more so just shocked. Usually you shoot every person that flirts with you down.”

“I know, I don’t really know what came over me, but she was hot so.” He shrugs again. “I’m going to bed, I’m exhausted.”

“I’m sure you.” Niall nudges him as they make their separate ways to their rooms.

//

Y/N woke up spooning Rob, and with Drew spooning her. Not the most unusual way to wake up with her friends. She felt gross as she sat up. She was cozy in some borrowed sweats, but there was an ache in her stomach and between her legs. The stomach was easily from the amount of sugar she had from the cranberry juice in her drinks, and between her legs, well, a sexy bouncer comes to mind for that.

Everyone slowly gets up and they all decide to go out for brunch, just like old times. They laugh and reminisce over the fun the weekend brought them all.

“Wait, so did you really hook up with that dude?” Mike asks.

“Mhm.” She giggles as she sips her coffee. “It was good too.”

“Define good.” Rob says.

“I had two orgasms that I didn’t have to conjure up myself, I’d say that’s pretty good.” She says bluntly and they all laugh.

“Do you think you’ll try to see him again?” Conor asks.

“Oh god, I have no idea. I have no reason to go to the bar unless you all are here.”

“You could always go down with Mike on trivia night or something.” Drew says.

“Mm, no, I don’t like going out on work nights. I’m always way too tired the next morning.”

“You don’t have to drink. Come on, when was the last time we went to trivia night?” Mike says.

“True…maybe next week? I don’t wanna seem too eager, you know? I’m not really looking for anything serious right now, and I don’t need him thinking I’m stalking him.”

“Don’t force her, man, if she just wants it to be a one night stand she can leave it as that.” Danny says.

“See, he gets it.” She says.

//

Harry had thought of the pretty girl he fucked in his boss’ office only a couple of times, and then he slowly let her slip away. He had class and schoolwork to occupy his head. The same could be said for Y/N. Harry had left some after affects, but he slowly faded in her mind as well.

Well, it had faded until she was mindlessly swiping through Bumble one night, and she came across his profile. Even if she hadn’t already met him, she would have liked him. He really did have a nice smile, and his pictures weren’t the standard douchebag pictures. She decides to swipe right and see what happens. She wasn’t sure how often he used the app, if at all, but she was interested to see if she’d see anything from him.

On a Sunday evening, after getting some homework done, Harry went on to Bumble to see if he had any notifications. He used the app less and less as he didn’t want to accidentally hook up with someone that might be too young for him. His eyes widen when he comes across Y/N’s profile.

“So she is from around here.” He says to himself. He had thought maybe you had just come into town for that weekend for some fun with friends. He takes a leap of faith and swipes right. He smirks when he sees it’s a match.

Harry preferred Bumble to the other “dating” apps out there. He never wanted to make someone uncomfortable, so he liked that the girl had to message first.

Y/N was just getting out of the shower when she saw the notification from Bumble that she had a new match. Her jaw drops when she sees that it’s Harry.

Y/N: let’s go out on Friday night…I matched with that bouncer on Bumble…but I’d rather talk in person

Mike: sounds like a plan to me! I’ll be the perfect wingman

Y/N: don’t think I exactly need your help for that lol

Mike: maybe you can be mine then

Y/N: deal

//

Harry had completely forgotten about the Bumble thing until he saw Y/N strolling down the hill with Mike. She gets her ID ready for him.

“Is there a cover tonight?” She asks him. His gaze on her was intense, like they both knew about the giant elephant looming around them.

“No band tonight.”

“Ah.”

He checks Mike’s ID, and the two go inside. The sit down at the bar after Mike makes up a bowl of popcorn.

“Don’t let me drink too much.” She tells him. “I’m gonna try to nurse a vodka-lemonade for a bit.”

“You got it. Hey, maybe you could give me another shot of showing you how to play pool?”

“I’m looking to get laid again, I don’t need to make a fool of myself, Michael.”

“He could think it’s cute, maybe he could teach you.”

“He’s on the job.”

After the nightly rush, Harry’s relieved from the cold, and comes inside to do his other duties. He gathers up empty glasses, cleans up anything that’s spilled, and goes behind the bar. He notices Y/N about halfway done with her drink.

“Are you gonna want another?”

“I could certainly use another blue moon.” Mike grins at Harry and he nods.

Y/N watches as Harry’s muscles flex as he pulls the tap. He grabs an orange wedge to put on the lip of the glass and slides it over to Mike.

“Thanks.” Mike throws a couple of singles on the bar and Harry pockets them.

“Well?”

“Trying to get me drunk?” She smirks. “Thought you might like me a little more sober.”

Harry smirks and leans on the bar so he can talk a little closer to her.

“Don’t tell me you came all the way down here just to see me again?”

“Maybe.” She shrugs and takes a careful sip of her drink. “What time you off?”

“Two.”

“Places closes at 1:30…”

“Mhm, and then I have side-work. You don’t have to wait if you don’t want to.”

“No…I’ll wait.” She looks at her watch. “It’s only a couple of hours anyways.”

Harry nods and walks away to get back to work. Mike gives Y/N a thumbs up of approval.

“Well, if you won’t play pool with me, will you at least go dance with me once I’m done with this drink?”

“Oh, without question.”

There were plenty of people on the dancefloor. Y/N didn’t love coming to the bar often, only because sometimes she’d run into some of her student workers and it could get a little awkward. For the most part, things seemed safe. She was having a great time with Mike, but her eyes kept scanning the room for Harry. Once in a while they’d lock eyes and smile awkwardly, fully knowing what was most likely going to go down at the end of the night. When 1:30 hit, she let Mike go square up his tab so she could chat with Harry.

“So…” She says as she approaches him. He was putting chairs on top of tables.

“Mine or yours?” He asks bluntly. “I live right upstairs, but if you felt more comfortable at your place then-“

“Yours.” She smiles. “Yours sounds good.” Y/N didn’t like bringing men home that she didn’t know all that well. His place was better.

“Okay.” He looks around the bar and furrows his brows. “You gotta get rid of your friend, we’re not really supposed to let a lot of people hang around.”

“Oh, alright, well, where should I wait?”

“Take a seat at the bar, it’s fine.”

She nods and goes over to Mike to say goodnight. He winks at her and tells her to call if she needs anything. Niall was running around with Harry mopping the floors and cleaning everything up while the bartenders cleaned up the bar. They gave Y/N a couple of knowing looks, but other than that no one seemed phased that she was waiting for him.

“Hang down here a minute.” Harry says to Niall. “I’d like to get her in my room first.”

“Say no more, I’m actually headed to a little cutie’s of my own.” Niall winks. “Have fun.” He says as he heads out.

“Y/N?” She turns to look at him. “Ready?”

“Mhm.” She smiles and follows him up a set of stairs.

Harry unlocks the door to let them both in and she looks around. It was a decent enough set up.

“Can I get you anything?” He asks as he closes the door.

“No, I’m all set.” She presses him against the wall and wraps her arms around his neck. “There’s really only one thing I want from you, anyways.”

He leans down to kiss her, and her fingers lace through his hair. His hands slide down her sides to her butt, to the backs of her thighs.

“Jump.” He says, and she does so. She kisses on his neck as he carries her to his room.

He doesn’t bother with the light, he just kicks his door shut, the only light in the room coming in through the shades from the street lights. He gets her on his bed and they both work to get each other’s clothes off. He gets her jeans off and she lays back as he kisses on the fleshy parts of the tops of her breasts. She tugs his shirt off and runs her hands up and down his torso. She could just make out some of the tattoos he had. Interesting, she thinks.

“You have condoms?” She asks as he unhooks her bra.

“Yeah.”

She hum in approval and lets him continue getting to know her body. He swirls his tongue around one of her nipples before sucking on it. His hand goes between her legs, and rubs her covered clit. She feels him pull the material to the side, and then she feels him slip his middle finger in, the cool from his rings causing her to gasp.

“You were really tight last time, did I hurt you?” He mumbles against her neck as he gently sucks on her skin.

“N-no, I would have told you if it hurt.”

Harry kisses her as he slides another finger inside her warm center. Her mouth falls open as his thumb rubs her puffy clit. She reaches between them, and pets him over his boxers. He groans into her neck and starts pumping his fingers faster, curling them, hoping to find that spot of hers.

“Oh, oh!” She gasps. “Just like that, oh fuck, please don’t stop!” She has to clutch at the blankets on his bed to ground herself.

He kneads her breast with his other hand, and wraps his lips back around her other nipple, consuming just about all of her senses. She was panting and moaning and squeezing around his fingers. He feels her pulse around him and her legs twitch as she comes to her release.

“Shit.” She breathes with a smile on her face. “You’re good at that.”

“Don’t it’ll go right to my head.” He smirks. “Let me go get a condom.” He kisses her forehead before getting up to rummage through his desk drawer.

Y/N wriggles out of her now drenched panties, and tosses them somewhere on the floor, and gets more comfortable on his bed. As good as the office sex was she was sort of happy to be somewhere they could do a little more.

“Ready for me?” He asks as he gets on the bed.

“Mhm.”

He parts her legs and gets situated between them, running his tip along her folds and clit. She lifts her hips towards him, and it makes him good knowing how impatient she was. He pushes inside her and bottoms out.

“Jesus!” She gasps.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He grunts as he starts to move.

“I think you’re just big.” She moans as he rocks in and out of her. “Not complaining though.”

He comes down closer to her, and hooks one of her legs under his arm to thrust in deeper. It has her head rolling back. She gets a fistful of his hair and he moans as she tugs on it.

“You like that, huh?” She says into his ear and she feels him nod yes. Harry nibbles on her earlobe before responding.

“What do you like?” His deep voice in hear ear was enough to send her flying to the moon.

“God, anything you wanna do to me I think I’d like.” He moves to look at her with a raise eyebrow. “Within reason of course.”

“Wanna get on top?”

“Sure.”

He pulls out and shifts to sit up against the headboard. She was a little surprised since most guys liked to lay flat when she rode them, but she wasn’t going to watch him on it. She swings her leg of his lap to properly sink down on him. When she starts to move he stops her.

“I wanted you on top, that doesn’t mean you need to do anything.” He pecks her lips and thrusts him into her, her mouth forming an ‘O’. “Deeper, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She licks into his mouth as he grips her hips to move her on and off his cock. “Fuck.” She whispers in his ear. She was going to come soon, and she knew it. She wanted to hold on a little longer, but she also just really wanted to let go. “H-Harry, fuck, I-“

“Go on, come, Y/N.”

She cries out into his neck, tugging his hair maybe a little too hard. She just misses the moan he lets out as he spills into the condom. They stay there like that for a moment before she gets off him.

“Bathroom?” She says, reaching for the shirt he was wearing earlier.

“Just down the hall on the left.”

“Great, thanks.” She slips out the door and Harry gets his boxers on after throwing the condom out. She comes back in and shines her flashlight on the floor to find her clothes. “It’s really late, you can crash if you want.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” She says. “I’ll sleep better in my own bed. Besides, the last thing I need to run into any of the students on my way home in the morning.”

“Do you, um, work at the university?” He hadn’t even thought to ask.

“Yeah.” She tugs her jeans on and snatches her shirt from the floor.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you message me after matched?”

“Oh.” She blushes. “I don’t know…I like doing these things in person better.”

“Me too. I only swiped to see if you did.”

“So, you’re not, like, seeing anyone else?”

“Not on the regular, no. What about you?” She shakes her head no at him. “Do you want my number?”

“And what would I do with it?” She smirks.

“Use it to give me a heads up if you’re coming to the bar or…or if you just want me after one of my shifts.” She bites her bottom lip and hands him her phone. He puts his number in and texts himself. “Can I give you a ride home or anything?”

“No, I’m parked right out on the street, actually, but thank you.”

“Well, let me at least walk you out there.”

“Okay.”

Harry throws on some sweats and leads Y/N out. He walks her down to her car, and he presses her up against it, kissing her before letting her go. Once her car is out of sight he heads back up to his room. He wasn’t sure how often they’d communicate, but at least he knew if she didn’t feel like waiting for him in the bar, they could just plan it out better.

//

Y/N didn’t want to come off as greedy or clingy. She didn’t want to text him every time she felt like getting railed, but she couldn’t stop thinking about his dick, or how he used it. He was careful and aggressive all at the same time. She could tell he respected her, maybe all women in general, just by the way he would check in. It was a wonder to her how no one else was fucking him, well, maybe they were. Just because he said he didn’t have anything else on the regular didn’t mean he didn’t have an assortment of numbers in his phone. The following Saturday night she couldn’t sleep, and before she even had a chance to text him, he texted her.

Harry: you up?

Now, usually a text like that would make her eyes roll out of her head, but it was nice coming from him. He was clearly up because it was one in the morning and he was working. If anything it was courteous.

Y/N: yeah

Harry: how come?

Y/N: couldn’t sleep

Harry: maybe I could come tire you out when I get off work

Y/N: you know, I love a home remedy as opposed to taking a pill, so that sounds good to me, I’ll text you my address

Harry: 👍

Y/N bites her bottom lip and springs out of bed. She wanted to tidy up a little before he got there. Maybe they could just fuck on her couch or something. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him in her room just yet, but it might not be up to her when he gets there. She’d let him fuck her where he wanted. She wanted to make herself look cute, but she wasn’t sure how much he’d really care. She decides to change into a tank top and shorts as she waits for him.

Around 2:15AM there’s a knock on her door, jolting her awake from the couch.

“I’m getting too old for this.” She says as she rubs her eyes. She gets up and opens the door for him. “Hi, Ha-mph!”

He cuts her off by cupper her jaw and kissing her. He kicks her door closed, and picks her up.

“Sorry I’m late, where’s your room?” The girl simply points him in the direction of where to go and she lets him carry her there. “I even tried to leave early, but these idiots were causing problems.” He says as he gets his shoes and socks off, along with his shirt. “I had to break up this fight and it was a whole thing.” He unbuckles his belt and lets his pants drop to the floor.

“No worries, I figured you’d get here eventually.” She shrugs and works on getting herself naked. “You promised to help tire me out, after all.”

“That I did.” He smirks and pulls her towards him for a searing kiss.

Harry pushes her back on the bed, and kisses down her body. Her skin felt soft and smelled cocoa butter, she must have put lotion on before he got there. He looks up at her just as he reaches her naval.

“Can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Eat you out.”

“Oh! Um, only if you really want to.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Well, yeah, but only if you want to also. I don’t like when guys just do it to do it, you know?”

“I can assure you that’s not the type of guy I am.”

“Okay.”

He kisses and sucks on her inner thigh, marking her up, and then he licks a flat stripe up her center. He does this a few times, just getting a feel for how she tastes, and then he swirls the tip of his tongue around her clit.

“Shit.” She breathes. “Found it pretty fast.” She pushes some hair out of his face as he smirks up at her.

“S’not rocket science.”

Before she can say anything she’s gasping as he sucks on her clit. She gets a grip on his hair as she grits her teeth. He works her up, almost to the brink, and then he drags his tongue around her folds. He licks into her center and she cries out from the warm feeling of his tongue. His thumb rubs circles into her clit as continues to give her the best head she’s ever had. Every time he moaned against her she moaned louder. She couldn’t believe he was enjoying it so much. Her legs were starting to shake around him and she just wanted to close him in around her, but he had his other hand pressed firmly on one of her thighs to keep her open.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” Her back arches off the bed as she comes on his tongue. He laps her up before kissing up her body. “Let me put my mouth on you too.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He lays down next to her. “But come sit on me and I’ll do you at the same time.”

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N feels giddy as she situates herself over Harry’s head. She leans forward to get him out of his boxers. His hard dick slaps back against his stomach. She spits into her and grips him. She feels him jolt underneath her and she chuckles. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to concentrate on giving him a blow job while he was slurping away at her again, but she’d do her best. She gives him a few pumps before wrapping her lips around his tip. He groans into her and squeezes the backs of her thighs. She sinks lower on him and bobs up and down. She has to dig her nails into one of his thighs to keep herself from gagging on him. She decides to focus on sucking his tip and pumping the rest.

“I’m gonna come if you keep doing that.” He tells hers, but she doesn’t let up. He starts panting and fingers her because he just can’t use his mouth on her right now.

“Oh, fuck, don’t’ stop.” She pops off him to say and then goes back to sucking him off.

She comes around his fingers just as his hot come shoots up into her throat. He hears her gulp as she swallows and then she licks his tip clean. She rolls off him and giggles, he giggles too, and she props herself up on her elbows to look at him.

“What?”

“Think that’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh.”

“Chalk it up to being lightheaded.” He sighs. “Just give me a minute, and then I’ll fuck you.”

“If you’re too tired, we don’t have to-“

“M’not tired, I just need a second.” He gives her ankle a squeeze.

“Want some water?”

“Sure, that’d be great.”

She gets up and quickly shuffles into her kitchen to get a glass of water. She takes a sip first before going back into her bedroom. She hands it to him and he thanks her. She knees onto the bed and sits next to him.

“You have condoms?” He asks.

“Mhm.” She reaches over into her bed side table takes one out.

“Alright, I’m ready if you are.” He says, taking it from her.

“If I lay on my stomach, will you get on top and fuck me from behind?”

“Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat. He liked a girl that was blunt and forward.

She smiles and gets on her stomach for him. He parts her lips and slides in, she was still plenty wet. She groans into her pillow as he rocks in and out of her. He snakes his hand between her and the bed to rub her clit.

“God, you’re so attentive.” She says, looking over her shoulder at him in amazement.

He smirks at her and gives her a bum a smack before pushing her head back down into the pillow. His chest was flush with her back, and they were moving in a perfect rhythm with each other. She was white knuckling her blankets feeling the damn about to break again.

“Oh, shit, fuck, Harry!” She cries out as she comes again. He gives her a few harsh thrusts before he fills the condom up. Once he pulls out she rolls onto her back. “Trash is over there.” She breathes, pointing to the can in the corner.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll be right back.” She gets up and slips out to use the bathroom. He’s just pulling his boxers on when she comes back. She throws on a large tee shirt to cover herself up a bit.

“Tired now?” He smirks at her.

“Very.” She chuckles. “Um…it’s, like, almost four in the morning…you can stay if you don’t feel like driving.”

“Oh, um, that would be great actually…if you’re sure.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind.”

Harry nods and stands up.

“Bathroom?”

“Just outside the door on the right.”

“Thanks.”

Y/N hadn’t let a guy sleep over in a while, but it would only be for a few hours, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Harry comes back in a few moments later smelling like mint.

“Used some of your mouth wash, hope that’s alright.”

“It’s fine.” She smiles and gets settled into bed with him. “Well, goodnight.”

“Night.”

She rolls over and he turns with her, spooning her. She adjusts into him, getting especially comfy, and before she knows it, she’s drifting off, and so is he.

The next morning, Y/N wakes up to the sounds of Harry rustling about getting his clothes on.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” She yawns with a stretch of her arms. “Do you want me to make some coffee or…?”

“No, I’m gonna crash when I get back, I just wanted to get out of your hair.” He runs a hand through his hair. “That was fun, last night.”

“Mhm.” She smiles and curls up in her blankets. “It’s been fun every time.”

“What if, uh, I mean, would you want to make this a regular thing? My schedule is the way it is, so relationships are tough, but this…is easier.”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t want a relationship right now, but having sex with a hot guy is certainly something I’d like to continue doing.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.” He smiles and knees onto the bed to peck her lips.

“What time does your shift usually start? Not that I don’t love waiting up until after two in the morning, but I’m not usually awake that late.”

“Oh, right, um, I usually go in around seven. I help out at the end of the dinner rush. Get the place set up and all that.”

“I usually get out of work around 4:30 most days…”

“I typically have Sundays and Mondays off too, just FYI.”

“You know, I think this could work out well.” She smiles.

“So do I.” He kisses her again before getting off the bed. “I’ll text you later, or, I don’t know maybe you could text me first.” He says sarcastically.

“I was actually going to text you last night, but you got to me first.” She giggles.

“Right.” He rolls his eyes. “See ya later, Y/N.”

“Bye, Harry.”

//

“You’ve been exceptionally chipper lately.” Y/N’s colleague, Lilly, says at lunch on Monday.

“I’m getting laid, that’s why.” Y/N was close with Lilly, it wasn’t unusual for them to have a conversation like this.

“Oh? With who?”

“Do you ever go down to the Yard Dog?”

“The bar where all the students go?” She laughs. “No.”

“Okay, well I go there when my friends come to visit because it’s nostalgic for us, you know? Anyways, there’s this bouncer that works there…and one thing led to another one night and I fucked him in the back office of the building.”

“Oh shit.”

“I know! And then we matched on Bumble a little later, so I went to the bar again, and I waited for him and we fucked at his place, and then the other day he came to my place. We have a regular thing going now.”

“Damn…is it the British guy?”

“Yeah! His name is Harry, do you know him?”

“Yeah, I recruited him for the MBA program.” Lilly worked with international students at the graduate level. Y/N worked in grad admissions as well, but at the domestic level. “I told him to look for a job down there, guess he listened.”

“He’s nice enough, quiet, and sort of intimidating, but he’s nice to me.”

“Well, that’s all that matters.” She laughs. “When do you think you’ll see him again?”

“I don’t know…I was thinking of texting him to come over tonight because he doesn’t work on Monday nights…is that too eager?”

“No way. It’s been established that you’re using each other for a specific service, I say go for it.”

“Right, like, it’s just sex, it’s not like I need to make him dinner or anything.”

“Don’t offer him any food at all. As soon as you share a meal with the person you’re sleeping with, it becomes more.”

“Shit, you’re right…good call.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

After lunch Y/N goes back to her office and contemplates texting Harry. It really shouldn’t be this difficult, they agreed to make it a regular thing, she should be able to just let him know what she wants.

Y/N: hey, Harry…are you free around 7 tonight?

She sent it, and took a deep breath. It’s fine, this is fine.

Harry: I can be, my place or yours?

She nearly squeals when she sees the response.

Y/N: could we do mine if it’s not too much trouble?

Harry: no trouble at all, see you then

“I could give him some wine or something.” She says to herself. “I know I’ll need to have a glass.”

//

Y/N wasn’t sure what she should wear. Should she stay in her work clothes, which she looked awfully cute in, or should she put something sexier on? Would he even care? She groans to herself as she goes to change into a nicer set of underwear. Maybe he’d appreciate some lace.

“I should really go shopping for some lingerie.” She huffs. Y/N did, however, have a silk robe, so that paired with the lacey underwear would be good enough.

She goes into her kitchen and gets two glasses down, and fills one just under halfway with some sweet red wine. She takes a generous sip, and sighs. There’s a knock at the door, and she goes to answer. She has to keep herself from drooling when she sees him. He was dressed so differently. Usually he was in all black, but tonight he was wearing a long sleeve blue shirt with the first few buttons undone, and a dark blue pair of jeans. He was wearing a black jacket to tie the whole thing together along with a beanie.

“Hey, come on in.” She smiles as he steps inside.

“Getting bloody cold out.” He says as you close the door. “You look cozy.”

“Cozy?” She pouts at him.

“Cute.” He says as he shrugs his jacket off. She unties her robe to slightly reveal how little she has on underneath. “Sexy.”

“Much better.” She giggles. “Would you like a glass of wine or anything?”

“No, thanks.”

He grabs her and holds her from behind. He kisses her cheek, her jaw, and then her neck. She cranes it to give him better access, and he walks her over to the couch. He slides her robe off and turns her around.

“Very sexy.” He pecks her lips. “You wore this for me?”

“I just wanted to look nice.” She starts unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. “Let’s go to the bedroom, it’s comfier.”

Harry nods and follows her in. He cups her jaw as she undoes his pants, and he licks into her mouth. She palms him over his boxers, and he bucks closer into her hand.

“Really wanted my dick tonight, hm?”

“Mhm.”

She puts her hands on his hips and pushes him to sit down on the bed. She sucks on his bottom lips and kisses her way down his stomach until she’s on her knees in front of him. She tugs his boxers off and looks up at him as she wraps her lips around his tip. He runs a soothing hand through her hair and keeps it out of her face for her. She sinks lower on him before popping all the way off and taking him in her hand. She brings her lips back to his tip and just rubs it around her low lip before licking over his slit.

“Feels amazing, Y/N.” His head rolls back momentarily, but he doesn’t want to miss a second, so he forces himself to look back down. “I don’t wanna wait to fuck you…”

She sucks on him a little longer before getting back up. She takes a condom out from one of the cups of her bra and hands it to him as she wiggles out of her panties. She unhooks her bra and lets it drop to the floor. He grabs her hips and turns her around. She sits in his lap as he lines himself up and she moans out. He reaches around front to rub her clit while she moves up and down on him. She turns to face him and she licks into his mouth. She swallows a groan from him. His other hand kneads her breast, and he kisses on her shoulder, biting down just enough to make her gasp. Her head rolls back to his shoulder.

“H-Harry.” She whimpers.

He thrusts up inside her, and she loses all control. She lets him move her, bounce her, whatever she wants. His fingers on her clit felt incredible. Y/N had hooked up with plenty of guys, but Harry was so different. He was attentive. He asked the important questions, and nothing more. She didn’t need to get to know him other than his body, and he felt the same way about her. This was perfect.

“Y/N I’m gonna come.” He grunts into her ear.

“M-me too.” She pants.

She feels him fill up the condom just as she’s coming around him. He peppers her neck and shoulder with kisses before he helps her off of him. She grabs a tee shirt to throw on while he grabs all of his clothes to get dressed.

“Thanks for coming by.” She says as she walks him to the door.

“Thanks for the invite.” He smirks as he gets his beanie back on.

“I felt bad since it was sort of short notice.”

“Gave you my number for a reason, didn’t I? Never be afraid to use it.” He hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her in for a kiss. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” She smiles and so does he. He leaves shortly after that.

Y/N finishes her glass of wine, takes a shower, and puts herself to sleep. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

//

Things continued you like that for a few weeks. Sometimes Y/N would go over to Harry’s before his shift for a quickie, or if she could stay up, he’d zip over to her place after his shift. If it was a particularly late night, they would sleepover, but other than that they wouldn’t. Not that the either didn’t offer, they were both polite people.

“You seeing that girl again this weekend?” Niall says to Harry as he whips up dinner on Thursday.

“No, I have a weekend intensive, I’m getting an elective out of the way.”

“Are you still working?!”

“I am tonight, but I have Friday and Saturday night off. I couldn’t pass up the tips on ladies night.”

“I hear that.” Niall sets a plate of pancakes in front of Harry.

“Thanks.” He takes a bite. “Do you think I should let her know I won’t be around this weekend?”

“Like ahead of time?”

“Yeah, like, what if she texts me expecting me to come right over and I can’t? I’d feel bad.”

“You could just sext with her.” Niall smirks as he takes a bite of his own pancakes. “You said she was pretty good at that.”

“She’s better than good. She’s a fucking wordsmith.” Harry smiles. “But I’ll be working on the rest of the projects for class, so I won’t have time for that either.”

“So give her a heads up, then no one needs to feel rejected.” Niall shrugs.

“Maybe I should tell her in person, I’m a gentleman after all.”

“Or you wanna bone one more time before having to focus on school.”

“Let’s go with both.”

Harry: wanna come over quick before my shift?

Y/N: god yes, stressful day at work, definitely need the distraction

Harry: cool, come by whenever

“She’s coming over, make yourself scarce.” Harry says to Niall.

“You got it, I’m actually going down to bus some tables for a little extra money.”

Y/N comes over to Harry’s about twenty minutes later, and barely gives him a chance to say hello before she’s kissing him. He carries her to his room, and finally gets a breath in.

“How do you want it, Y/N?” He says against her lips as his hands slide down to her ass.

“I want you to bend me over the bed and fuck me so hard I forget my own name.”

Both of his eyebrows shoot up.

“Shit, you really did have a stressful day, huh?” He caresses one of her cheeks.

“Yeah, I did.” She bites her bottom lip. “But I didn’t come here to talk about it.”

He kisses her again and starts undoing her pants. He knew what she needed, and he was happy to give it to her. Normally he would have taken more time to prep her, but he really did need to be quick so he wasn’t late for work. Once they’re both naked, and he has a condom on, he bends her over his bed, and pushes inside her. She clutches at the blankets as he slams in and out of her.

“Just like that, fuck, Harry!” She moves her ass back against him to feel even more, and it makes him moan out.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He grunts. “Like it when I give it to you like this?”

“Yes!”

“I want you to come for me.”

“I’m really close, just keep going.” She was starting to pant and squirm.

“Yeah? You’re close?”

“So close, I..oh fuck!”

She releases around him, and he spills into the condom shortly after. He pulls out and helps her stand up. She faces him and wraps her arms around his neck. She slots her mouth over his and he groans into it.

“Fuck, I…I wanna go again, but it would look bad to be late when I live right here.”

“No, it’s okay, um…I’m gonna be busy this weekend, like, I’ll even barely be on my phone.”

“Me too, actually, it’s why I invited you over tonight.” He smiles and steps back to throw the condom away. She starts putting her clothes back on.

“How kind of you.” She laughs as she wipes the smudged makeup under her eyes.

“Feeling better?” He asks as he puts his own clothes on. The ones she’s more familiar with.

“Yeah, thanks.” She smiles. “It’s too bad you have to get right to work.” She puts her hands on his shoulders. “These black shirts look too fucking good on you.”

“Really? I always thought it was the tight jeans.” He smirks.

“That too, your ass is perfect.” She gives him a little pinch and pecks his lips. “Guess we’ll just talk next week?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Okay, have a good weekend.”

“You too.”

Harry sighs happily as he goes into his bathroom to fix his hair before his shift. He grabs his jacket and heads down to go outside and starting manning the door. It was the same as ever, lots of pretty girls flirting with him, and him having to turn half of them away because they’re underage. Later on Harry and one of the bartenders to take bets to see who Niall was going to take home later.

“What about you?” Ryan says. “Gonna try to get lucky?”

“Nah, got my fill earlier.” Harry says as he wipes down the bar with a rag. “Plus, all these girls are wasted, you know I don’t play that.”

“True, you’re definitely one of the good ones.” He claps his hand on Harry’s shoulder and gives him a squeeze before going to grab more empty glasses.

Harry didn’t see it like that. Guy or girl, if someone was drunk, he declined any offer he got. It just didn’t feel right to him.

//

Y/N had the day off from work Friday, but only because she had a weekend intensive for grad school. It was an elective she was trying to get out of the way. All of the other classes she had to take were online, but she thought it would be nice to just get this over with in a weekend. It would be a class of twelve people, she just hoped it wouldn’t be awkward.

She gets into the building, and finds the classroom. A couple of people were there already. She finds a spot to sit down and set her things up. There was a poster that was due on the first day. Weekend intensives involved a lot of prep work. She gets her laptop out and sips on her coffee.

Harry was exhausted. He didn’t get off work until nearly 2:30 because people didn’t want to leave the bar. When his alarm went off, he was not looking forward to spending the day with a bunch of people he didn’t know. He was interested in the subject matter, and almost excited to present his poster, he just could have easily done it all in an online class. His eyes were too tired for contacts, so he goes for his glasses. He throws his beanie on, a sweater, and a nice pair of jeans, and heads out. He grabs a cup of coffee before heading for the academic building. He walks in and scans the room. There were a few people there. His eyes widen when he sees Y/N. He wasn’t sure what do. Should he ignore her? Should he sit next to her? Before he can decide she happens to look up and make eye contact with him. He sighs and makes his way over to her table and sits down.

“Thought you just worked here.” He says as he sets his things down.

“I do…but I’m also in grad school. I’m taking this as an elective.”

“Same here. What program are you in?”

“Education, you?”

“MBA.”

“Nice.” She nods. “And here we were thinking we wouldn’t see each other all weekend.”

“Mm, lucky us.” He smirks.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” She rests her chin on her palm.

“Something tells me we’re going to get to know each other fairly well in the next forty-eight hours.” He leans back in his chair with his arms crossed. “You okay with that?”

“I don’t quite think I have a choice. It’s not the end of the world, it’s sort of nice to know someone.”

“Yeah, we could grab lunch or something.” He says it nonchalantly as he takes his laptop out of his bag.

“Yeah.” She nods. “Or something.” She winks at him and he smiles as he rolls his eyes.

The professor comes in shortly after, and has everyone sit in a circle. Everyone explains what program they’re in, why they’re in grad school, and what career aspirations they may have. Y/N and Harry were already learning a lot about each other. For example, he thought it was extremely ironic that Y/N recruited students to come get their grad degrees, and she herself didn’t have one yet.

Next, the professor had them all work on a craft project. They had to build these towers that had all these different components. They could listen to their own music and just work away. Harry and Y/N occasionally glanced at each other, but they did their best to focus.

“Okay everyone, it’s time for lunch! Afterwards, we’ll come back and present our towers.” The professor says.

They look at each other awkwardly.

“Our break is an hour and a half.” Harry says to her.

“I don’t need that long to eat, do you?”

“Nah, well…” He smirks at her and she blushes.

“I don’t live that far from here, um…if you wanna just come to my place to eat.”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “Want me to drive, or?”

“No, I can.” She grabs her keys and he follows her out.

Once they’re in Y/N’s apartment, he’s got her laying on the couch with his head between her legs. She tugs at his hair as she squirms underneath him.

“I-I thinking you were hungry than you let on!”

He groans against her in response, and slides two fingers into her as he sucks on her clit. He looks up at her/ She looks down at him, confused for a moment, and then her mouth falls open when he slides a third finger inside her. He pumps them in and out of her slowly to not hurt her. His tongue flicks back and forth on her clit, and she tugs harder on his hair.

“H-Harry!” Her back arches as she comes. He sits up and licks his lips, and his fingers, before undoing his pants. He tugs them down enough to get his dick out. “Condom.” She breathes and points to the side table.

“You keep them in your living room now?” He chuckles as he reaches into the drawer to get one.

“Are you making fun of easy access?”

“Not at all, you’re resourceful.”

He rolls the condom on and moves to hover her. He pushes inside and she wraps her legs around his waist. He bites her bottom lip and sucks on it as he rocks in and out of her. He bottoms out and she gasps. He smirks against her lips and keeps thrusting into the same spot.

“Oh my god.” She moans. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

“Right there?”

“Yeah, right there, don’t stop.” Her breathing gets heavier, and he can feel her tightening around him. She cries out as she comes, and he follows suit.

On the drive back to campus things are quiet, but not uncomfortable. They both head into the classroom, and sit down. Harry takes out the lunch he packed and digs in, Y/N does the same. Once everyone is back, the professor has the class present their towers. It was an oddly emotional experience. Some tears were shed, and there was no judgement whatsoever. Y/N was stunned when it was Harry’s turn. He got choked up when he had to talk about his family. It was just him and his sister. They both needed a change of scenery, so he came to get his grad degree in the states, and she moved to France. That was about all he was willing to say, which was fine.

After the towers are done, there’s a quick bathroom break, and then they get into the poster presentations. Harry found Y/N to be extremely intelligent. She clearly knew what she was talking about. He briefly wondered how such a smart, beautiful girl could be single. Then again, he knew how little free time there was while working full time and going to school. He knew he didn’t have time for a relationship, anyways. Nor was he emotionally available enough for one, but that was a separate story.

“I want to thank you all for the wonderful work you did today. Nothing to work on tonight, as I know today was draining. Tomorrow, we’ll be talking about the readings that were assigned ahead of time.”

It was 8PM, and Y/N was exhausted. Harry happened to park in the same lot as her, so he walks her to her car.

“That was better than I was expecting.” She says.

“Yeah, wasn’t terrible. Sort of flew by.”

“I can’t wait to crawl into bed and just pass out.”

“Same here.” He hits the unlock button for his car. He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” She smiles. “Thanks for the afternoon delight earlier.”

“Please, it was my pleasure.” He winks and opens his car door.

“Harry, wait, uh…”

“Yeah?”

“You live above the bar right?”

“Um…yeah?”

“Well, it’s bound to be pretty loud, how will you sleep?”

“Noise cancelling headphones.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Well, I was thinking you could come back to place if you wanted.”

“Thought you were ready to pass out.”

“I feel like I’m so exhausted that I won’t be able to sleep.” She laughs. “Would be nice to be able to roll over and have the person there that’s usually good to make me fall asleep.”

“I like the way you think. Let me just grab some clothes from my place and then I’ll head over.”

“Sounds good.”

Harry comes over to Y/N’s, and needless to say after a couple rounds they both sleep pretty well. He was snuggled up against her when her alarm goes off.

“I need to shower.” She yawns. “Feel free to sleep a little longer.”

“I could go for a shower, actually.” His hand drifts down between her legs and she starts rubbing her folds.

“Please tell me you wanna fuck in the shower.”

“I wanna fuck in the shower.”

“Race you!” Y/N kicks the covers back and sprints to her bathroom. Harry wasn’t too far behind.

Once they’re in the water, he has her pressed up against the wall. He fingers her, slow at first, and then he picks up the pace. She wraps her hand around him and pumps him at the same time. Her other hand squeezes at his chest, leaving crescent shaped marks behind. They come at the same time, and then take turns actually showering.

Harry gets dressed while Y/N is still in the bathroom, doing her morning skin care. He stands in the bathroom doorway for a moment.

“So, I’m gonna head out, you good?”

“Yeah, go on.” She waves him off. “See you in a little while.”

“I’m gonna grab coffee, do you want anything?”

“No! No, um, that’s okay, I’ll just make my own here, uh, thanks though.”

“Alright.” He shrugs. “See ya.”

//

Harry sits next to Y/N again in class. She enjoyed listening to him speak about the readings. She shouldn’t be surprised at how articulate he could be. Sometimes when they sent explicit texts her would write these paragraphs describing the things he would do to her.

It was another long day. This time around, Y/N was truly exhausted, and wasn’t in the mood to fuck, so she doesn’t offer to Harry to spend the night again, not that he was expecting her to. He walks her to her car, and they say goodnight.

Sunday was a half day, and time for reflection on their final papers. As they were packing up at the end of class, curiosity takes over Y/N.

“So, how many more credits do you need?”

“Not sure, honestly. I just know I have another year and half. What about?”

“I have, like, five more classes to take. I can only do a couple per semester. I’m done until end of January, which is nice.”

“I wish more of my classes were online. I have a class that meets twice a week in the afternoons, so my break won’t start for another few weeks.”

“Do you…see your sister often? Like, will you spend the holidays with her?”

“Y/N, we don’t have to do this.” He says as he slings his bag over his shoulder. They start walking out together.

“Do what?”

“This.” He gestures between them. “I sort of like that we don’t know a ton about each other. It makes it easier just to meet up and do what we do, you know?”

“Oh! Yeah, I completely agree…I just…” She stops when they reach their cars.

“You’re a compassionate person, I can see that. I do see my sister. We FaceTime when we can, and we take turns visiting. I spend the holidays with my roommate, he’s one of the other bouncers. I’m going to France for a bit this summer when I’ll have more free time. Any other questions?” He smiles at her.

“Nope, that’s about all I wanted to know.” She smiles back. “I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

//

Mike: the boys are coming to town this weekend, be ready to get fucked up!

Y/N: god bless, I love boys weekend!

Y/N goes over to Mike’s Friday night, and they all pregame before heading to the bar. As they approach, she realizes she forgot to give Harry a heads up that she was coming. His eyes widen when he sees her.

“Where’s your coat?” He asks immediately.

“I…didn’t need it.” She blushes.

He rolls his eyes as he checks everyone else’s ID’s.

“It’s cold out…” He frowns at her. “And you’re wearing a crop top and jeans.”

“Don’t worry, dude, we’ll keep her plenty warm.” Drew says and throws an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go.”

She giggles and goes inside with her friends. It puts a sour taste in his mouth. Obviously he didn’t own her, and he knew they had to be just friends, but he wondered if she had a past with any of them.

Y/N and her friends do three rounds of tequila shooters before hitting the dance floor. Harry was at the point of the night where he was inside the bar helping out. One of the bartenders snaps her fingers at him and points at two idiots who were demanding to be served more. Harry grabs Niall and they make the people leave. When Harry gets back inside he sees Y/N on the dancefloor grinding against Rob, and Conor. They were all laughing, but he didn’t like what he was seeing at all. If she needed something to grind against, all she had to do was ask.

“I’m gonna go to the ladies room!” She shouts at them, and leaves the dance floor to go wait in line.

She sees Harry and who she assumes is Niall walk by everyone and pound on the door. Harry kicks the door open and finds three people doing lines off the bathroom counter.

“Jesus Christ.” Niall groans. “You can’t be doing that in here!”

Harry and Niall grab the guys, and they struggle at first, but they get them out of the bathroom.

“Now we have to fucking call the police.” Harry says as he basically picks one of them up by the back of their shirt. “Tom’s gonna love this.”

“Doing fucking drugs in the bathroom, grow up boys.” Niall says and Y/N watches as they get them out of the bar.

“Holy shit.” She says to herself.

Around last call, Y/N sees Harry behind the bar cleaning up. She goes up and sits down on one of the few open stools. She taps her finger nails on the bar and he looks at her. She pouts and bats her lashes at him.

“You can come up later, but I’m not fucking you.”

“Why not?”

“You’re drunk.”

“We’ve had sex before after I’ve been drinking.” She scoffs.

“Not like this, you’ve had a lot. I saw the tab.”

“So then why would you want me to come up if we can’t fuck?”

“Because…I…where would you go otherwise?”

“Back to Mike’s.” She points over at her friends. “We do, like, a group sleepover when they come visit, it’s fun.” Harry scrunches his face slightly at that. “What?”

“You all stay in the same bed?”

“No, don’t be silly, I usually end up sleeping in Mike’s bed with him, and one of the other guys. We did it a lot when we were all in school together.”

“Is that all you did?” Harry plants both of his hands on the bar and cocks his head. “With them?”

“Are you asking me if I’ve ever slept with one of them? Because that’s really none of your business.”

“From the way you were dancing with them I didn’t even think you’d be looking to go home with me.” She starts giggling and smiling at him. “What?”

“I just didn’t you could get any cuter, and here you are being a jealous little thing.”

“I’m not jealous.” He scoffs.

“Really? So it wouldn’t bother you if I went back with all of them, and tugged one of them into the bathroom with me, and got all hot and naked?”

“Nope.” He smirks. “Because you’d be thinking of me the whole time, babe.” He leans forward and pecks her lips. “Or am I wrong about that?”

“So I can really come up when you’re done?”

“Yeah, but no hanky panky.” She bursts out laughing at that.

“I am totally down to just cuddle.”

“Better tell them that.” He nods towards the group of boys and she turns around. She waves goodbye to them and they all give her a thumbs up. “They’re a supportive group, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

//

Y/N was doing her best to stay awake, sipping on some water at the bar, while Harry was running around cleaning up. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment when she feels his hand on her back.

“M’all set.” He says.

“Okay.” She yawns. “Think I’m sober now if you wanna get a little frisky.” She wobbles a bit as she gets on her feet.

“Mhm, yeah.” He chuckles. “Come on booze-bag, let’s get you up to bed.”

“Heyyy, don’t be mean.” She swats at his chest. “I only drink like this when my boyfriends come to town.”

He rolls his eyes as he helps her up the stairs to his apartment. He gets her into the bathroom first, using a warm washcloth to help take her makeup off. She giggles and sighs as he does so. Harry could be really gentle when he wanted to be. He gives her some privacy when she needs to use the toilet, and then he leads her into his room.

“Alright, you can have the Kiss shirt for bed.”

“Oh, my favorite!”

He chuckles and helps her out of her clothes, and into the bed shirt. He strips down to his boxers and gets into bed with her. She lays her head right on his chest.

“Why didn’t you wear a coat tonight?”

“I got drunk at Mike’s and felt too warm to wear it when we made our way to the bar. Why do you care so much?”

“I saw on the news once that a lot of college girls get sick or get hypothermia from not dressing warm enough on their ways to parties or whatever. It’s scary.” She shifts to look up at him. He moves some hair away from her face. “I got nervous when I saw you walking up.”

“You were worried about me?”

“A little.” He clears his throat. “But to be fair, I worry about everyone I see dressed like that.”

“Mm, nice save.”

“Shut up.” He smirks. “You’re only here so I can fuck you in the morning.”

“Got that right. You could fuck me now if you wanted.”

“No, I couldn’t.” He strokes her cheek. “It wouldn’t be right.” He says softly. “Try and sleep, yeah?”

“Okay.” She mumbles and nuzzles into his chest.

He plays with her hair until her breathing evens out. He rolls over onto his side, and he feels her tighten her hold around his stomach. It had been quite some time since Harry let someone spoon him, but right now it just felt nice. He puts his hand over hers, just to give her a comforting squeeze, but she ends up lacing her fingers with his. He doesn’t pull away, he just lets it be. He knows he’s fucked now, of course, but he tells himself he’ll worry about it after some sleep.

Part Two

[dirtybackroad]

rituals

read on ao3 / tag list / notes Dean Winchester Word Count: 810

Summary: The first time Dean quit smoking was before he even really had a habit to break.

_________________________

The first time Dean quit smoking was before he even really had a habit to break. When he was 15, he bought his first pack of American Spirits, the box a sky blue that stuck out to him from the shelf. The clerk behind the counter had squinted down at him, and for a moment, Dean worried he wouldn’t get away with his illicit purchase. Maybe if the gas station had paid the man a little better, he would have asked for ID, but minimum wage had never been worth dealing with teenagers, and so Dean walked out with three less dollars and the small blue box in hand.

Dean liked the way the new pack felt in his fingers, liked the ritual of packing a new box, smacking it cleanly against his palm. He loved to take his time with a brand new package, carefully peeling off the plastic and tucking it into his pocket to throw away later. The paper tightly folded down underneath the lid was one of his favorite parts. It felt almost like opening a letter, and once inside a thrift store off the highway, Dean half-jokingly toyed with purchasing the idea of a tiny gilded letter opener with a broken blade to make his process even more official.  

After the paper was gingerly folded back to expose the cigarettes, there was even more room to ritualize the act. Dean would carefully pick out one cigarette from the pack. His reasoning for his choices always varied; sometimes, he’d quickly snag the filter sticking out the most; other times, Dean would simply…. feel it. Whatever way he chose the first cigarette, it wasn’t for smoking. Instead, he’d picked out his lucky cigarette, replacing it upside down back into the package.

The teal box fit into the pocket of his jeans, packed in against the swiss army knife he’d carried since he was eight and his father tucked one into his palm. The denim stretched taut over the intrusion, adapting to a new addition in Dean’s metaphorical toolbelt.

Once that first pack was bought, he was done for. Dean had a penchant for distraction, a weak spot for vices, and an ache for routine. Each morning they were alone started with the  cl-click  of the motel door locking behind him, Sammy following in toe. The kid always made a face as Dean started in on his morning cigarette, but whining about stuff like that was part of being a younger brother. Dean always made sure to stand downwind from Sam anyway, which wasn’t ever hard since the kid avoided the clouds of smoke like the plague.

The actual act of smoking wasn’t the part Dean was interested in, especially that first time around. So, when Dean was caught red-handed, crouched behind the vending machines, lighting up behind the motel he was staying at with his dad and little brother, his biggest worry was losing his private rituals. John had snatched the box away and snapped each of the cigarettes in half, ranting the whole time about how he had raised Dean better than to pull shit like this, to waste money like this, to expose Sam… Still, Dean’s mind was elsewhere, mourning the fact that he wouldn’t get to smoke the cigarette he had picked out as lucky.  

_____________

The second time Dean quit smoking, he was old enough to purchase his own packs legally. He’d smoked a few here and since the last time, bummed a smoke outside some garbage dive bars, snagged a couple from hunting buddies of his dad’s, but this was real. This was a brand new, plastic-wrapped box, packed to the brim and primed for Dean’s rituals.

There was a boy, another hunter who smoked parliaments in a blue box that matched his eyes and who wore leather and paid for Dean’s drinks when they went out to celebrate a job well survived. They sat too close and laughed too loud and smoked too many shared cigarettes. When they stepped outside afterwards to find the blue and white box empty, they stumbled to the gas station with their hands bumping and shoulders brushing together, and the boy bought Dean’s second-first pack.

They were eighteen and fumbling with a zippo to light each other’s smokes on the journey back to their motel. The ritual of a new pack paled in comparison to how each inhale tasted the way Dean imagined the other boy would taste if he were to allow himself to imagine those things.

That hunting trip ended, that pack ran out, the two boys lost contact, but Dean kept smoking. Nearly a dozen jobs and sixteen packs later, Dean heard that a job up north went sideways and the taste of smoke started to feel like something he lost instead of something he could cling to.

He never bought another box.

[unbridgeabledistances]

hi so @self-absorbed-pretty-boy (💖💖) sent me an AMAZING list of prompts a week ago and while i had truly no time this week to do as much writing as i wanted, here is a 4+1 thing i whipped up between classes that is pure husband fluff— i hope u all enjoy<3

prompt: the first time mickey calls ian his husband in front of a stranger (could be a cashier, a pharmacist, a cop, some weed buying college kids, you decide)

--

The first time that Mickey did it, he didn’t even really realize it— it was a slow Tuesday morning, just after their “honeymoon,” when he woke to the abrasive, slanted sunlight streaming in through the blinds. He immediately noticed that the house was silent, surprisingly quiet from any of the classic Gallagher clamor that usually bounced through the thin walls in the mornings, especially these days with Franny and Liam in their final weeks of the school year—and the absence of noise made Mickey curious enough to rub his eyes and open them, finally pulling himself out from the last warm dregs of sleep.

Ian’s arms were wrapped around him, a comforting spoon bear-hugging him in close, and Mickey took a moment just to take in the sensation of the solid, sleeping weight of him— he could feel the rise and fall of Ian’s ribcage pressed against his back and the soft fabric of the t-shirt that clung to Ian’s chest, the only barrier between him and Ian’s pink, sleep-warmed skin. Mickey rustled in Ian’s arms, reaching for his phone on the bedside table; and no wonder there were no cabinets slamming or lunches being packed or Debbie screaming that they had to get out the door— it was nearly noon for some fucking reason, and he and Ian were still sleeping like babies.

Which, okay, maybe that had to do with the fact that last night involved lots of tugs of hair and searing kisses and bodies pressed together until late into the night— Mickey felt his lips tick upward at the memory of it. But still— ever since returning a few days ago from their honeymoon in the dingy motel with the musty satin sheets, they had both been tired; the last few months had been compounded by a release from prison, a murdered P.O., the engagement shitshow, and a wedding to top it all off, and each incident had pushed a sense of normalcy more and more off-kilter, until finally they both just had to crash.

There was no mistaking that this was harder, more draining, for Ian; he was trying to sink back into a routine existence in the Gallagher house after all of the events of the past few months, and it was clear that he was still reeling from the shift— Mickey could see it now, in the way that Ian was so deeply sleeping well past noon, a dead weight pressed close against him.

Mickey scooted himself up to a seated position on the bed, letting Ian’s arm limply fall off of him and cascade onto the bedsheets with a muted thud—and again, he let himself take a moment to just look at Ian, his mouth parted and breathing steadily, the light coming in through the blinds illuminating the constellations of freckles smattered across his face and cheekbones, threads of sunlight weaving between the strands of bright, rusty hair on the top of his head that were partly splayed onto the pillow. Since getting home Ian had been slicking his hair back less now, and letting it grow wiry and wild and curled—Mickey fucking loved it, and he couldn’t resist reaching a gentle hand out to brush Ian’s hair back from his forehead, feeling its mossy give. He took it all in; the tides of Ian’s even breathing, his fully relaxed face, and the blossoming blue rings of exhaustion that were still there under his eyes, even in his sleep; and Mickey felt a swell of gratefulness that Ian was still sleeping soundly, that he could sleep all fucking day if he needed to, at least for now while they were just getting back and settling into a rhythm—if Ian deserved anything, he deserved to recharge.

Mickey silently sat beside him, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone and every so often running a hand through Ian’s hair—because, fuck it, his husband was sleeping next to him, soft and warm, and something about touching Ian always grounded him. He was leaning propped on a pillow he’d shoved between his back and the wall, and was just beginning to contemplate putting on the tattered robe he’d found in one of the stray bedroom drawers and dragging himself downstairs to make some coffee when he heard a buzz from Ian’s phone on the nightstand, and saw the screen flash with a silent alarm:

“PICK UP MEDS”

So ultimately that was the reason why Mickey forced himself to crawl out of bed that morning— or afternoon was more accurate— and detached himself from the cocoon of his husband’s warmth to go for what was usually Ian’s own Tuesday morning walk every month before his shitty shifts with Paula to go over to the pharmacy and get his meds. He bounded down the front steps of the Gallagher house, turning the corner to walk down a few blocks to where the sagging houses turned to the brick storefronts and neon signs of the few ramshackle businesses that were left on the Southside. Since getting back a few days ago, he and Ian had barely done anything except lounge around the house with everyone, settling in— and now Mickey realized how long it had been since he’d gone for a walk outside, breathing in the not-so-fresh Chicago air that smelled of gas exhaust and cigarette smoke, but also of something earthen and familiar. Sunbeams were radiating off of the sidewalk, and the air was cool, like the late spring weather had finally just broken into something crisp and clear— Mickey let his feet carry him over the pavement past the dingy corner store with the faded sign hanging crooked above the awning, and then two more doors down to the business with the glowing red and white sign that read “SAVE RITE PHARMACY.”

Mickey entered the pharmacy, hearing the tinkle of a bell as he pushed through the glass door.

There was no one really in the store on a Tuesday afternoon— his eyes adjusted to the waves of artificial light bouncing off the white shelves that contrasted with the soft glow outside. Mickey made his way through the aisles to the pharmacy counter at the back of the store, and was met with a middle aged woman in a lab coat typing on a computer.

“Hey. I’m, uh, pickin’ up for Gallagher.” Mickey slid his ID over the linoleum counter, quickly doing a double-take to make sure that this was a real ID and not one of his fake ones; not that it would really matter anyways, no one was getting high off of whatever shit Ian was taking on the daily.

The woman glanced at Mickey’s ID over the rim of her classes, then clicked the mouse a couple of times.

“Gallagher. Just one moment.”

She turned and filed through a few organized-looking bins, and retrieved a crinkly white paper bag and placed it on the countertop. Mickey stood there in silence, listening to the heavy thud of keys typing on the desktop computer.

“And who are you in relation to Mr. Gallagher?”

Mickey opened his mouth—and for just a millisecond, he let himself pause. Usually he just said “partner,” or sometimes “family” when the situation required him to be vague—but in this moment, he had a flashing realization. They were married—and today he got to drop that word, and all the weight of it, into the empty aisles of the drugstore on a Tuesday afternoon. Mickey cleared his throat.

“S’my husband.”

Mickey couldn’t help it—there was some weird, warm, giddy rush in his chest as he said it. It wasn’t natural yet, and he almost fumbled over the word as it fell out of his mouth, like a kid trying to swear for the first time— but he said it. And the pharmacist barely flinched—which, thank fuck for that, after the whole geriatric florist incident a few months ago. She just gave him a curt nod, a half-smile, and she handed Mickey the paper bag and a printed receipt and sent him on his way.

And so what if Mickey stopped at the grimy corner store on the way home and bought a pack of cigarettes for himself and a fucking Kind bar for Ian, because he knew he liked that shit— and so what if there was a little extra bounce in his step as he walked back from the store, his arms swinging by his sides in the cool, early summer breeze as his feet hit the sunwarmed pavement and he headed home to his husband who was curled up in the warm safety of their bed, sound asleep.

His husband.

**

The second time it also just sort of… tumbled out of Mickey’s mouth, a little more naturally this time. It was a day or two later, and he and Ian had finally rejoined the land of the living— and to Debbie, that meant that the two of them were now available to be drafted into a circuit of random chores and errands with lists of shit to pick up, tasks that Ian tried to squeeze in between shifts at his new warehouse job and that Mickey mostly just ignored. But much to Mickey’s dismay, there was no getting out of their assignment this afternoon; Debbie had some hotshot welding gig on the Northside and Frank was nowhere to be fucking found, and Liam needed a parent or guardian to come to his parent-teacher conference at the end of the school year. Liam had softly voiced this information in the swirling hurricane of conversation at dinner the evening before, and Ian couldn’t resist saying that he and Mickey would go, even though Mickey had repeatedly kicked his shins hard under the kitchen table and passed him a series of dagger-like glares. Mickey didn’t realize why Ian had volunteered the both of them to go to this shit— it was Ian’s brother, not his— but after lots of long glances and fucking puppy-dog eyes and some very intense manipulation the night before, when Ian whispered into the crook of Mickey’s neck at a very inconvenient time and said with a mischievous smile “C’mon Mick, I don’t want to go alone”—well, let’s just say that was how Mickey ended up weaving through the sweltering, barren hallways of Liam’s public school on some random muggy summer afternoon with Ian, trying to find Liam’s teacher’s classroom.

As much as Mickey did not want to be here right now, in the paint-chipped locker-lined halls of the public school that mostly just brought up a lot of angsty memories of dirt under his fingernails and cardboard signs written with sharpies and pasted up with duct tape, the whole thing also felt vaguely nostalgic— like those days before everything went to shit and he’d gotten married to Svet, just after he’d busted the fuck out of juvie and was trying with all of his might to force down all the tidal waves of feelings he had about gangly fucking teenage Gallagher with his crew cut and his camo pants—and walking through the halls next to Ian, feeling his tangible presence beside him, was enough to keep Mickey’s mind from veering into other darker places about his own wasted potential.  

“Where the fuck is this room, anyways?” Mickey huffed out. All the rows of lockers looked the fucking same, and all Mickey wanted to do right now was go home and lay back on the couch and sip a cold beer, instead of standing in this stuffy hallway with sweat dripping down his neck.

Ian playfully elbowed Mickey between his ribs. “We’re in Liam’s school, Mick. You’re not supposed to say ‘fuck.’”

“Fuck you.” He flipped Ian off for good measure.

Ian halted in front of a closed classroom door, glancing down at the slightly crumpled piece of paper that Liam had written his class number on.

“I think this is it.” Ian softly rapped his knuckles on the classroom door, and a young woman in a pencil skirt appeared to open it.

“Hi, lovely to meet you both. You must be Liam’s dads?”

Mickey spluttered out a laugh, a surprised noise catching in his throat. His first feeling was a flicker of annoyance at this random lady, that always popped up anytime someone so immediately knew he was gay, which probably had to do with some deeply internalized shit— but his second feeling was a warm sort of astonishment. Liam’s dads?

He and Ian could be someone’s fucking parents someday. Fuck.

Ian’s cheeks had turned slightly pink, like he was equally as affected by the assumption— so Mickey spoke up, trying not to sound like his insides were squirming as much as they were.

“Nah, man, you got it all wrong. I mean— not totally wrong, he is my husband. But we’re not his dads.”

Ian’s ears nearly perked up when he heard the word— this was the first time they’d called each other husbands so casually out in the world, while they were both in each other’s presence. A crooked smile crept onto Ian’s face, and he tentatively reached out to ensnare Mickey’s fingers in his.

“Yup. Husbands.”

Liam’s teacher just looked at them, raising her eyebrows expectantly, like she was slightly confused.

“Alright. So, who are you to Liam, then?”

Ian let out a quick breath of a laugh. “Oh, right. I’m Liam’s brother.”

And as Ian led him by the wrist to sit beside him in a fucking uncomfortable plastic chair meant for ten-year-olds, chattering away with Liam’s teacher, all Mickey could think about was the blood rushing hot, hotter than usual between his ears.

He didn’t know if he’d ever get tired of calling Ian his husband.

**

Mickey had never given much thought to pet names, or any sort of frilly bullshit like that, with Ian—every time that he called Ian something that wasn’t just “Ian” or “Gallagher,” it was some punchy and witty nickname that he’d concocted in the moment in an attempt to make a smile burst onto Ian’s face, with “sugar-tits” and “babyface” being his personal all-time favorites; but never any of that sappy bullshit that other couples called each other, like “babe” or “honey” or other garbage.

But, fuck. Fuck if Mickey didn’t love the fact that he could call Ian his “husband” now, that he was allowed to just do that, whenever anyone was in earshot.

It was a late night at the Alibi, the first time that most of the Gallaghers had been out of the house since the pandemic started; the mayor had finally loosened some restrictions, and Kev had sent a text to the Gallagher family group chat with way too many cork-popping emojis telling everyone to come by the Alibi after their respective evening shifts—and when he and Ian had walked through the door nearly half of the neighborhood was there, including Sandy and Debbie, and a bunch of random Southsiders that most of them hadn’t seen for weeks or months.

Kev had immediately handed Mickey a foamy beer as he walked through the door, and readily poured Ian a shot of Jameson—and now the room was pressed tight with bodies, full of random-ass neighbors puffing on cigarettes and some music playing low, the air hanging heavy with the fog of secondhand smoke and boisterous conversation. At one point, after taking one too many sips of something, Sandy had convinced Kev to give her control of the aux cord—and now the music turned more upbeat, and some of the younger people in the room had started dancing, which obviously caused his over-enthusiastic husband to grab Mickey’s wrist from where he was seated at the bar and pull him into the crowd. And maybe it was just the fact that Mickey hadn’t been around so many people for so long, or maybe it was the fact that he could see that Ian was having a good time, his cheeks flushed and glowing in the dim lights— or maybe it was just that he’d had one or two more beers than usual, if he was being totally honest, but Mickey was feeling happy and light, feeling a buzzing in his veins.

And now they were dancing, and Mickey was just kind of shuffling side-to-side and probably looked ridiculous but he didn’t really care, and the room was getting hazier with smoke, and he could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks and the bass of the speakers thrumming in his chest and the rising tide of his pulse and he felt alive, alive—

And Ian’s body was pressed next to his, doing that stupid fucking dance move he always did where he just kind of bopped up and down with his hands raised above his head with the energy of a golden retriever— and Mickey couldn’t fucking help but lean in, pressing his lips close to meet the shell of Ian’s ear; and yes, they’d been married for a couple of months now, but he couldn’t help the airy feeling rising up, bubbling up in his stomach from the heat of the flames licking at his insides that made him whisper:

“We’re fucking husbands.”

Mickey knew Ian could feel his hot breath in his ear, could smell the whiskey on his lips—and Ian’s eyes lit up, his mouth splitting open in a tipsy grin.

Ian hummed and tilted Mickey’s chin up and pressed their lips together— there was light dancing in his eyes, and Mickey loved him, and he was his husband.

“Yeah. Husbands.” Ian murmured the words against Mickey’s mouth under the music, into the air between their lips.

“Fuck.”

And in that moment, Mickey realized that he’d never really known happiness before, not really— because nothing could fucking compare to the feeling of having his hands wrapped tight around his husband’s warm hips, while Ian’s arms were slung over his shoulders and Mickey could burrow his face into the sweet skin at the crook of Ian’s neck…

And yeah, maybe Mickey could get into the idea of calling Ian his husband a lot more often.

**

It was the evening on some run-of-the-mill weeknight after their security runs, and they were at that fancy hotel gym they’d gotten a trial membership of weeks before— Ian had loved the fancy weight machines and the steamed towels so much (and let’s face it, Mickey had also definitely enjoyed the fact that he could check guys out in the steam room) that Mickey had used some cash he had on hand (of questionable origin, which just made Ian frustratedly roll his eyes) to get them both a membership at the place for a month— and Mickey had to be honest, working out under mood lighting and mirrored walls with a bunch of chiseled gay dudes beat hauling kegs around the musty back room of the Alibi any day.

So now, they made a habit of stopping by the gym after work, typically parting ways after stripping off their camo by the lockers to go do their own thing in the weight room. At the current moment, Mickey was standing off to the side of the open floor plan, leaning against a weight rack and curling a 40 pound dumbbell into his bicep— but more accurately what he was doing was drooling over his husband, who was across the room with his tank top sticking to his skin, energetically hitting a static punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Mickey let his eyes bore holes into Ian from across the room, watching the sweat gleam on Ian’s body, watching his muscles ripple—and fuck, he was married to a fucking Greek god, like those fucking sculptures he saw in textbooks at school that made his blood run hot when he stared too hard, wasn’t he?

Mickey was so fixated on watching Ian that he barely noticed when his upper arm started to burn, and he realized that he’d forgotten to keep track of how many times he’d curled upward. Fuck it. Mickey bent down to place the weight back on the rack—and that was when he noticed another guy, some scrawny, slender dude wearing a neon-green tank top and with fucking hot pink sweatbands on his wrists, who had his eyes locked in on Ian from across the room almost intently as Mickey did.

Tank Top noticed Mickey staring at him and sheepishly smiled, putting a hand on his hip—and then in the spirit of light gym-time chatter, something Mickey was definitely not interested in entertaining, the dude opened his mouth.

“You think he’s gay?”

The old Mickey, Mickey from a few years ago, would’ve pummeled this guy’s sorry ass for even looking at Ian the wrong way, and even Mickey from a few months ago would’ve felt some sort of anxious panic or jealous fear that someone other than him desired Ian— but today there was a heavy band of silver pressing into Mickey’s finger, and he could feel the solid weight of it. So Mickey just raised his eyebrows, and gave a passive reply as he placed his dumbbell down and strolled past Tank Top Dude to walk across the room towards Ian:

“He’s my husband, asswipe.”

**

It was late— all there was in the empty room was a half-deflated air mattress, sinking under their weight. The streetlight beamed in through the paper-thin curtains— they would definitely have to invest in a better pair to block out the light, but that was an issue for tomorrow.

Right now Mickey and Ian were just sprawling out on the mattress, letting themselves sink into it—their few boxes of belongings were stacked along the wall, the papers had been signed, and now they could let themselves breathe.

Ian cradled the back of Mickey’s head in his hands, giving him a quick peck just above his eyebrow. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

Mickey breathed out a low chuckle. “Yeah, man, me too.”

Ian rustled, turning onto his side on the wobbly mattress to face Mickey fully. “‘Man?’ You’re my fucking husband. I think we can do better than that.”

Mickey smirked, leaning in close to hover over him. “Whatever you say, husband.”

[mandoalorian]

If you’re taking requests RN can you hit me with them fighting about something big and they think reader is gonna break up with them but then the reader is like uhm no it was a fight but I still love you and then they get all soft afterwards with Maxwell, Frankie or Javi? You choose I love them all equally (BTw if not that’s okay obvi)

follow up: “ (I meant Javier Peña from my last ask 🥰) “ 

Thank you so much for this request!! I’ve had a pretty lousy day but writing this for you was really the highlight so I hope you enjoy! I was going to write for Maxwell because he’s my number one favourite, but I thought I’d challenge myself with Javier since I haven’t wrote for him yet.

Lie To Me [Javier Peña x Reader]

READ PART TWO HERE

READ PART THREE HERE

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: mention of drug trafficking and general Narcos topics, blood/a little gore but not too much, angst anGST ANGSTTTT!!!

MASTERLIST | SUBMIT REQUESTS

"I just can't believe you'd be so reckless!" you exclaimed, dampening the wash cloth and carefully dabbing it into your boyfriend's arm. Javier stayed silent, although it was hard not to hiss and curse in pain as you washed away the blood seeping from the deep cut in his bicep. "It's not like you at all Javi. I don't understand."

Your boyfriend had a history of being impulsive, yes, but ever since you became 'official' and started living together, he had changed. It was like this new experience had grounded him. Javier wasn't offering you any information about the incident which, truthfully, infuriated you. The cut was deep but everytime you brought up the hospital, he'd grumpily tell you he was fine. That he's had worse. After just a simple look over his wound, you knew he needed stitches. This was serious, and you knew he never really liked to discuss his work with you, but this was different. His whole demeanor had changed.

And this wasn't about work, really. Javier was closing himself off, shutting himself out from you. Once upon a time he'd make a habit out of this. He found that it was just easier to bottle away his emotions and not talk about them. But that was no good for either of you; not healthy at all. Javier knew this. He was trying to change for the better— improve himself, all for you. That's how he got in the entanglement in the first place. You didn't know this, but he was trying to protect you.

Javier was so sure his disguise worked. He wasn't a spy, he didn't often go undercover. He had very little experience; but he was so close to catching this kingpin, he just went with it. Lucky for Javier, he was blessed with the charisma of a criminal and could charm his way out of most situations if it became necessary. Unfortunately for him, the cartel was already one step ahead, playing along with his little charade.

"Javier Peña, DEA." the kingpin grunted, reaching into the pocket of Javier's leather jacket and snatching Javier’s ID. "You really thought you could fool us?" the kingpin chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. Javi's jaw ticked when he saw that his abrupt action had caused his wallet to drop on the floor. The kingpin picked it up and clicked it open. Luckily, Javier had nothing of value in there. Maybe ten dollars and a condom. At least, that's what he thought.

He watched the kingpin's face soften under the dimmed amber light as he adjusted Javier's wallet, tilting it in his hands. His eyes narrowed and a smirk wormed its way across his lips. Javi knotted his eyebrows together in bewilderment.

"Quite the pretty lady you scored here, Agent Peña," the kingpin snaked, gesturing for his lieutenants to come on over and take a look. The one on the left took a drag of his cigarette and wolf whistled when he caught an eye on the picture. "Nice tits too." The kingpin shrugged his shoulders, lighting a cigarette for himself. "Would be a shame if something were to happen to her."

His threat set fire to his heart and his job felt like it had just gotten a whole more personal. He had been working for the DEA for over a decade now; he knew how dangerous cartels and drug lords could be. He would not and could not ever let anything happen to you. He swore his life depended on it. But now he was standing before the Capo and his men, and in typical Javier Peña fashion, his first instinct was to fight.

He went to throw a punch at the kingpin, but one of the lieutenants grabbed Javier's wrist mid-air whilst the other one flicked open a pen knife, dragging the blade through Javier's bicep and ripping open the sleeve of his cream coloured shirt. 

Javier groaned at the stinging sensation and his crimson red blood began to stain through the material. The kingpin laughed again, before tutting and shaking his head. "So, you have a soft spot for her? I expected better from you Agent Peña. Last I heard, your reputation wasn't one for commitments. But myself? I'm a family man too. I love my wife. Our kids. So here's the deal. I'll let you go, but you tell the DEA your so-called undercover mission was a bust. You go home, into the arms of your woman, and speak nothing of this. This stays between you, me, and my men. Do you understand?" 

Javier was never one to follow rules— especially not ones made by cartel leaders, but he was outnumbered and he knew the Capo had an upper hand. Javier nodded, pressing his hand on the cut and applying somewhat pressure to stop him from bleeding out. "Can't go to hospital either," the kingpin told you with a roll of his eyes. "If that wasn't already obvious. No one can find out about what went on here. Agent Peña, I have thousands of falcons all over Columbia. They can find out where you and your pretty lady live. And I promise, it won't be pretty."

Javier gulped, not wanting to imagine and nodded his head. There was no need for anymore fuss. The kingpin popped Javier's wallet and ID back into his jacket pocket and pat him on the shoulder. "Agent Peña, I hope I never have to see you again." the kingpin narrowed his eyes before gesturing his lieutenants to open the door and let Javier out. Javi scoffed, but stayed silent. The situation could've gotten a lot worse. He walked outside to his truck, guided by the sicarios of course, and made his way home.

When Javier stumbled into your shared apartment, colour drained out of his skin and blood seeping through his fingers where he was holding his bicep. Your heart sank. His hair was stuck up in places from his cold sweat and he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. "Baby," he grumbled. "Could you- could you help me with this?"

"Javier what happened?" you gasped, a knot forming in your throat. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes when you took in the state of him. Sure, Javier had scars, and you didn't mind— but this was the first time you had ever seen him so injured. "I- I thought it was an office day." you exclaimed, holding him gently by his shoulders and guiding him into the bathroom.

"Was," Javier gritted out. "But you know how unpredictable work can be. We got a lead. So- I was sent out. But uh-, everything is fine now. I sorted everything out and erm-, you know." Javier gasped when you ripped open his shirt and pulled it off his torso, dropping it to the tiled bathroom floor.

"Jump." you ordered him, pointing at the sink. Javier obeyed and hopped onto the corner of the counter nearby the sink. He watched as you wet a washcloth under warm running water and padded it gently over his cut. As the faucet was still on, Javier leaned over and rinsed his blood stained hands from where he had been applying pressure on the open wound. "Javi, this cut— it's so deep. I think you need stitches." you said with worry, carefully analysing the depth of his injury.

"No." Javier spat immediately, the aggression and urgency in his voice making you jump slightly. He saw your reaction and placed a hand on your cheek, cupping it and taking a good look at you. You were his angel. He had done the right thing, and he wouldn't screw up now. He couldn't lose you. "No," he repeated, this time with conscious effort to sound less stern. "I'm a big boy, okay? Please just bandage me up."

Your eyes flicked from the cut to Javier, and you hesitated for a few moments. "Okay," you agreed quietly. You knew Javier well enough to know that there was no point in arguing with him. All of this sounded highly suspicious but you knew that you had to trust him. You kneeled down to the cabinet under the sink and took out the green first aid kit. Unbuckling it, you located some bandages, tape, and a tourniquet. "Shit Javi, it's still bleeding." you sighed, pressing the now ruined wash cloth back into his cut.

He choked up at the sudden pressure you applied. "It's okay," he reassured, running his free hand through his short dark hair. "Once I'm bandaged up, I'll be fine."

"Javier, who did this to you?" you frowned, carefully removing the washcloth and unravelling the tourniquet. "Who hurt you?"

Javier stayed silent. He wanted to tell you. He didn't want to have to lie to you, or keep secrets, but he was too caught up in the moment— he didn't want to risk your safety. His paranoia settled in. What if the kingpin's sicarios had followed him home? What if they were listening in? Javier's fists clenched around the cabinet he was sitting on, knuckles turning white. Between his injury, and the thought of losing you— he knew which hurt more.

"Are you just going to ignore me?" you puffed out, folding your arms across your chest in annoyance and looking at him in the eyes. Javi looked down at his feet, not saying a word. "So that's a yes?" you questioned further. Still no response. You shook your head and finished bandaging up his injury. Javier hopped off the counter and followed you into your shared bedroom where you opened your closet.

You threw him a clean shirt and he mumbled a 'thank you' before pulling his arms into it, careful not to disrupt his now bandaged bicep. You rummaged deep into the back of your wardrobe and pulled out a duffel bag, unzipping it and throwing piles of clothes into it. T-shirts, jeans, socks and underwear. Javier watched you, bewilderment written all over his face.

"Baby, what are you doing?" he asked eventually, standing with one hand on his hip and watching you intently.

You didn't respond. If he wanted to ignore you, fine. But two could play at that game. You zipped up the duffel bag and hung it on your shoulder, grabbing your car keys from your bedside table. As you left the bedroom and walked to your front door, Javier raced after you. "Hey- where are you going?" he demanded, panic coursing through his veins.

You couldn't leave. What if the sicarios were outside— watching for you. Waiting for you. Javier grabbed your arm and for a second you felt the slightest touch of empathy when your gaze met his anxious blown eyes. You quickly washed away that feeling. If Javier wasn't willing to be honest in your relationship, you weren't willing to stick around.

"I just-" Javier took a deep breath. "Figured, um- please. Please stay with me," Javier begged, dropping his hand to your hand and intertwining your fingers. "I'm sorry. Can we just forget what happened? We can go to bed, order take-out, watch a corny movie? I need your comfort." Javier compromised.

The idea did sound appealing but you wanted to know what had happened. It drove you insane. You sighed and shook your head. "No Javier," your gaze was cold and empty. "You're a big boy, right? Comfort yourself." And with that, you left the apartment, slamming the door behind you.

Javier raced to the window and watched as your truck pulled out of the driveway. He looked up and down the street for any suspicious cars that might be stalking you or following you, but thankfully, there was nothing. Nevertheless, he cursed himself for letting you get away. That was the last thing he wanted. He kept the information from what happened with the cartel a secret from you because he didn't want to fill you with worry.

Luckily, Javier knew that there were only a handful of places you could go in Colombia. You weren't too familiar with Bogota and so he ran with the first place that came to his head. Connie and Steve's. He raced to the phone that hung on the kitchen wall and dialled their home number.

"Hey, Con? Is Steve there?" Javier asked in panic. He didn't really want to talk to Connie about this because there was a very good chance she'd take your side over his. And, rightfully so. There had been plenty of times Steve had kept work business away from Connie in fear of hurting or worrying her. But she always found out in the end.

"He's with Olivia," Connie replied. "Javier, what's going on?"

"Uh," Javier ran a hand through his hair in stress. "Listen. I think y/n is on her way over. We had a fight. She's not talking to me. Everything is a mess. But, I'm on my way too. She took the truck so I'll have to walk but- I'm coming, okay? So just, keep her there. Keep her safe."

Connie scrunched her nose up at Javier's words. "Safe?" she repeated before lowering her voice. "Javi… what did you do?" she asked sternly.

"I'll explain everything when I get there." Javier promised and slammed the phone back down on the hook. Not even bothering to grab his jacket, he raced out of his apartment and ran to Connie and Steve's.

Of course you were first to arrive. Javier can read you like an open book. He knew you'd be going to see Connie. You let yourself into their apartment and flopped down on the sofa. Connie, who had of course been expecting you, entered the living room to greet you with a cup of hot tea. You didn't even know she was already brewing a coffee for Javier and Steve in the kitchen. You took a sip of the herbal drink and smiled appreciatevly. 

"So, what brings you here this evening?" Connie asked, raising an eyebrow with inquiry.

You sighed, nursing the mug in your cold hands. "Javier." you mumbled, as if that one word was enough of an explanation. Connie nodded her head understandably when Steve stumbled in.

"I put Olivia to bed," he announced before his eye caught on you. "Oh hey y/n."

You offered Steve another smile.

"Javier's being a dick again," Connie rolled her eyes and Steve shook his head.

"No," you replied. That felt unfair. "He's just being distant. Shutting me out."

"Well that's Javi for ya," Steve shrugged, sitting on the arm of the sofa and taking a box of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"No but— we had gotten better," you explained. "I mean. We talked a lot. He'd finally started opening up."

Before you could say anymore, the front door to Steve and Connie's door burst open. Javier stood at the doorframe, heaving and panting like he had just ran a marathon. Steve looked confused, but Connie just smiled, knowing that he had sprinted over just to try and fix things with you. You didn't know how to feel. Javier's chocolate brown eyes were sparkling with unspent tears and his heart blossomed when he saw that you were safe. That no hard harm had come to you.

He approached you and fell to his knees. You placed your mug on the coffee table and let your boyfriend take both of your hands. His thumb rubbed soothing circles into your wrist. Once again, Javier was speechless— just wanting this moment to last forever. Wanting you to be safe and healthy in your arms.

Connie nudged Steve who cleared his throat. "Uh, we'll give you two some privacy." he said before dragging Connie out of the living room and into the kitchen.

The second it was just you two, Javier dropped his head and his heart broke. "I'm so sorry," he sobbed, warm tears falling down his cheeks. You shuffled off the sofa and fell to your knees, facing him, and pulled him into a hug. 

"Don't cry," you hushed. "Javier… I just wish you could be honest with me."

"When you left earlier, shit, I thought I had lost you for good. I thought you were never coming back." he admitted, his voice croaking as the ache in his heart intensified. Your face softened at his revelation. "I know it might not seem like it, but everything I do, I do it because I love you."

You ran your fingers through his hair and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I worry about you Javi," you whispered. "And seeing you so injured today, it really scared me. You weren't telling me anything. Do you understand how that might make me feel?"

"I do," Javi promised, squeezing your hands tight. "When I said the DEA sent me out on a mission… that wasn't exactly true. I found a lead myself. And I didn't tell anyone. I went out to pursue the lead and got in an entanglement with the Capo himself. He saw the photo of you that I keep in my wallet and he threatened to hurt you. He said if I told anyone about my findings at the cartel, he'd get his sicarios to hunt you down and… listen, my love. They do bad things to pretty girls like you. And I couldn't risk it. I was so afraid."

Javier felt ashamed. Ashamed for lying to you, and also, he didn't want you to see him as weak. But you could never think such a thing of your boyfriend. He was the strongest man you knew. So brave and compassionate. And after this revelation, you saw a whole new side to him.

Your finger gently brushed over his bicep. "The capo did this to you?" you whispered, feeling your cheeks burning with rage at how a drug lord had gaslit Javier into staying silent by making threats over your safety.

"No, but one of his men," Javier explained. "When, when they mentioned you. I got so mad. I raised my fist and-"

"Oh Javi," you whispered, wiping the tears that filled your eyes. You pressed your forehead against his. "You could've just told me."

"I wish I had now." Javier admitted. "I really thought you were going to break up with me."

You pulled away from your boyfriend, but your hands were still resting on his shoulders. You looked deep into his dark eyes and found nothing but guilt and remorse plastered over his face. "No," you shook your head and offered him a small smile that immediately eased him. "We had a fight, but I still love you."

Javier smiled back, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight. "I love you too." he grinned. "Come on, let's go home." he said, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet.

"Okay," you hummed. "Cuddling up in bed with take-out and a corny movie sounds great right about now." you reflected back on Javier's previous compromise and Javier let out a hearty chuckle, pulling your hand up and brushing his lips delicately over your knuckles.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." he professed, his eyes sparkling. "So please baby, there's going to be times I fuck up- but please don't leave me."

"Whatever the future has in store for us, we will get through it together." you assured him with a soft kiss on his lips.

Permanent taglist:

@goth-topic​  @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria

[nriacc]

Nothing Revealed in a Common Crisis ~ Teaser

Here’s a teaser of Part 1 of NRIACC ~ Only Ones Who Know. 

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: You all finally get the teaser ahhhhh!!! We are so excited to finally start sharing content with you! We would love to hear what you think of it so far once you’ve read the teaser and we’d love to hear your theories on what you think is going to happen. Really hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading x

Part 1 will be out in full, May 21st 2021

An @imagine-that-100​ and @ghostlightqueen​ collaboration.

| N’s Masterlist | Dot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist (Coming Soon) |

~*~*~*~ July 2003 ~*~*~*~

“Excuse me, can you pull over please?” You ask loudly after practically leaning over Alex who sat directly behind the driver of the black taxi.

The driver nods his head and begins to reduce his speed after you asked him that through the perspex that separated him from the rest of you.

“Thank you,” You tell the driver, before getting out of Alex’s personal space and sitting back down next to the disgusting couple that were getting off beside you.

Thank god you weren’t too far away from home now.

Alex asks you with wide eyes, “Why’d you do that? What’s happening?”

You look at the brunette who looked like he felt more uncomfortable about being seated backwards than Matt getting off with the random girl beside you.

Alex was meant to be staying at Matt’s house tonight after their gig and the night out you’d had afterwards. But in the pub Matt had gotten lucky and the girl wanted to go home with him.

You living two roads away from Matt Helders meant that you always shared taxis home with him but tonight was just insufferable. And you weren't going to let Alex suffer through it once you parted ways, either.

“You’re staying at mine. I’m not leaving you with that,” You inform Alex, looking over to Matt sticking his tongue down the random girl's throat.

The more you looked at Matthew and the blonde the more you wanted to jump out of the moving vehicle. Hands were beginning to roam now, too, and you didn’t want to be in their vicinity any longer.

It would be very unfair of you to leave Alex in their presence. Especially when you had your whole house to yourself and you were only round the corner from where he was originally meant to be staying.

“What about your Mum?” Alex asks, concern on his face as the taxi slows.

“She’s away for the weekend so it’s fine. House is empty,” You assure him as you open the door once the red light has gone off.

Both you and Alex get out of the taxi but before you close the door you pull a £10 note out of your pocket for your share of the taxi fare.

“Matt, you’re disgusting but here’s a tenner,” You say throwing the money at him.

Matt nods at you when he takes a quick break from the blonde. You shake your head at him trying not to smile at the cocky bastard.

You hear Alex tell the driver, “Then to the original address please mate” when you close the black door.

You’re more than thankful to see the taxi drive away. You didn’t want to endure anymore of that disgusting PDA.

Both you and Alex breathe a sigh of relief when you’re just in each other’s presence again. You’re glad to see the taxi’s lights disappear from sight down the long road.

“They’re vile,” Alex sighs before lighting up a cigarette.

“I was ready to jump out the taxi but the red light were on,” You tell him truthfully with a little chuckle.

You both walk in silence for a few minutes, just smoking and both reminiscing about the night you’d just had.

Alex and the lads had a gig in a venue in town where your friendship group had all gone to support him. You were always really close with them all, your little group always meeting up after high school and now most days after college.

But now it was summer and the group could meet up more often which was great. And whilst you were still in Sheffield, you would be making the most of every group event.

So when Matt suggested going out on the pull to a club after the gig, you were all up for it. However, the night didn’t go to plan.

You were in the queue for the club for about half an hour and then when half of you got in, the bouncers stopped Alex and asked for his ID.

This obviously put an end to that idea because most of you were all 17 except for Nick and Jamie. So it was lucky that those of you who got in actually did.

But once one of you had been stopped you all didn’t have a chance then. Alex tried to back chat the bouncers which didn’t really go down well, so you ended up shouting everyone back outside.

You didn’t abandon your mates. If one of you couldn’t get in, you all wouldn’t be going in.

Alex was pissed off about it for a while until you all found a bar that was known for not IDing people to go in that wasn’t too far away. So his mood thankfully picked up when you all got there.

However it seemed like he was a bit down as you walked down the long roads towards your house.

So as you stubbed your cigarette bud out, you questioned him, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Alex shook his head, stuffing his hands in his zip up hoodies pockets after throwing what little was left of his fag to the ground.

You didn’t believe him for a second, but you only called him out again on it when he kicked a stone along the pavement in a huff.

“Alex, I’m being serious, what’s up?” You ask again, noting that his shoulders were hunched to.

He tried to brush you off again, this time saying, “Nothing, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything you want, right?” You feel the need to remind him.

You’d known him since you were 3. If you desperately needed someone to turn to and the girls weren’t around Alex would more than likely be your go to.

“Not this,” Alex shakes his head, still not looking at you.

“It can’t be that bad,” You tell him.

Alex just shakes his head again, really not wanting to get into it with you because he didn’t think you’d understand. So this time he changes his answer to, “It’s not bad, it’s just embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than when I wet myself in primary school and you never let me forget about it?” You shake your head.

Alex laughs a little at that, finally looking toward you when he says, “Because it was funny.”

“I was five years old Alex, give me a fucking break,” You chuckle, attempting to defend yourself.

Both of you laugh at the memory of him bringing it up countless times over the years. He was such a teasing friend but you’d known him since you were toddlers so you would let him off.

You had enough embarrassing stories of him that you could bring up if you needed too.

“Come on,” You try again, “What’s up?”

This time you seem to get somewhere because Alex tells you, “I really just feel like shit.”

“Why?” You ask, sticking your bottom lip out a little. “I thought you had a good night?”

“I mean yeah sure, I had a good night with you, but that’s not what I mean,” Alex tells you, and when you don’t reply he looked round at you noticing you were waiting for him to continue.

He sighs when he just gives in and tells you, “I just mean I was hoping to get off with that girl in that green dress but it didn’t happen.”

Ah, you understood now.

“Didn’t get a pull, again,” Alex scorns himself before once again kicking the stone on the ground a lot harder this time.  

You watched as it clattered it’s way down the darkened pavements and you nod understanding his words.

“Oh, yeah, I know what you mean,” You tell him honestly. “I was gutted about that too, that guy in that leather jacket was fit.”

Fit was the highest compliment you northerners would give people. You weren’t meaning it in an athletic sense but if you deemed someone as fit that meant that you found them very attractive.

Alex nods processing your words. He vaguely remembered you chatting to a guy in a leather jacket in the bar. But he’d had a few drinks since then so his memory was a tad hazy.

After a few seconds of silence between you, Alex just sighs, telling you his full truth, “I just feel like I’m behind...”

“You know what I mean... Like everyone else either goes home with someone or pulls them and does stuff in the club,” Alex lists off thinking back to previous nights out.

You nod, “Yeah and I hate it.”

“I hate it, too,” Alex agrees.

A thought whirls around your mind for a few moments, before you actually grow the balls to say it out loud, “I hate that I’m still a virgin.”

“Same.” Alex says in what seems like relief that you’d said it too.

Your friendship group was a close one. You all knew who’d been sleeping with who and who's single and who’s done things and who hadn’t.

It wasn’t a surprise to either of you what you were hearing the other say out loud.

If anything though it got a weight off both your chests.

“You know like I just don’t want the first time something happens to be someone fingering me in a club or something,” You laugh a little as you turn the corner onto another long road.

“Yeah, I get that,” Alex nods chuckling too.

Some of the stories that your friends told in the place you all went out was truly mental. But gossip was gossip and it spread like wildfire.

Alex continues showing his understanding with, “Like, you’re not necessarily after being in a relationship or whatever but you at least don’t want it to be a randomer.”

“Literally,” You nod, “I’m glad you get it.”

“Well you know... The same things go through my mind,” Alex tells you.

He’s just glad he’s not the only one feeling a bit left behind.

“What, getting fingered in a club?” You ask him playfully with a little laugh.

“Fuck off,” Alex laughs and nudges you to the side.  

You both laugh for a second and once you’re next to him again he continues, “I just mean like I wanna just get things out of the way... Like I don’t want it to mean nothing, but I also don’t want to be completely shit at everything if I’m doing it with someone who I’m going to be in a relationship with.”

“Oh my god that’s literally it, isn’t it?” You nod, “Like I just feel like after the first times’ done and dusted, I could be a little slag then if I wanted to be... Because then I wouldn’t be scared of some wanker taking my virginity just to then fuck off.”

“Literally,” Alex smiles at you, understanding completely.  

“Have you done anything?” You ask him after a few moments of silence. The only round to be heard was your footsteps.  

“No,” Alex shakes his head before asking, “Have you?”

“No,” You offer him a sad smile.

Alex returns yours with his own and you both just walk down the road in a comfortable silence for a minute. You’re about 5 minutes away from your house now.

“I feel like you could write a sad song about us,” You say not wanting to get lost in your thoughts again.

“I wouldn’t wanna broadcast our lives like that,” Alex chuckles a tad, shaking his mop of brown hair.

You grin at him, “Very considerate of you.”

“Well you know, I’m a nice guy,” Alex smiles, his chocolate eyes looking at you.

You smile, “I know you are.”

“Gentleman really,” Alex adds in jest which makes you laugh.

“Pushing the boat out a bit there Al,” You chuckle before you both share a laugh.

A silence falls between you then as you both continue to walk down the road. Thoughts start forming in your mind then, you never really were a fan of silence because it gave you a chance to overthink and create some crazy ideas.

You then walk silently faster before turning towards him and stopping in front of him.

Alex stops walking too and looks at you curiously.

“What’s up?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask after building up a little confidence.

Alex’s frowns a little, “What?”

Where was this coming from?

“Can I kiss you... Like properly?” You ask, confidence shooting way down though when you see your friend is not so keen on the idea.

“Erm...” Alex trails off looking at you like you’ve gone mad.

Then you feel a bit stupid.

You shake your head, starting to turn back to start walking towards your house again. As you do, you begin to backtrack, “Just ignore me, I don’t know what I’m thin-“

Alex’s hand then grabs your wrist and whips you back around to face him. The brunette then takes a step towards you, cups the back of your neck, and attaches his lips to yours.

You’re a bit taken aback by his actions, despite you asking for it. But you quickly relax into the gesture.

Your hand that landed on his chest after him pulling you back around clutched at his hoodie as you got your bearings with each other. You bring your hand up to lace into his hair and as you do that Alex deepens the kiss.

He was almost hesitant at first when his tongue connected with yours. But after a second you both got more confident with it.

The night was a humid one so it meant that when the kiss started heating the both of you up, it got you both really hot and bothered. He was a really good kisser, something that you’d never really given much thought to before.

But as he was kissing you, you felt a giddy nervousness in your stomach. Something that made you crave him more.

And Alex seemed just as keen on you too, he was pulling you close to him. With one hand around your waist and the other still cupping your neck, keeping you in place.

His lips were soft against your own yet they moved at an increasing pace which you happily tried to keep up with. It was like you were both catching up for a night of failed attempts at a pull.

But you were finally getting it now. Your tongues were moving against each other’s in a way that screamed for the other to continue and never break apart.

When Alex’s fingers dig into your hips you pull the tiniest bit tighter on his hair as you hum into the kiss. You were really enjoying it, completely invested in it and his hold on you felt possessive in the best way.

It was like you were both kissing each other that frantically to make up for the lost time you’d had at the pub.

The kiss only stops because you’re startled away from each other by a car razzing it’s way down the street. The exhaust had obviously been tampered with to make it sound much louder than it was.

You pulled away a little shocked that you’d both just pulled each other like that in front of some random house around the corner from yours. You could hear the car that had just made you both jump over the sound of your own rapid heartbeat.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: AHHHH WHAT DID YOU THINK?!?!?!?! What do you think is going to happen???? Apologies for no Matty yet but he comes into it a little later. Don’t worry though, the whole story is equally balanced out. Really hope you all enjoyed it, can’t wait for you to read the full part on May 21st. 

Let us know if you want to be added to the taglist x

[lemonlushff-iy]

Take Me Out (to the ball game) - Teaser

 How did this happen? 

Like. No. Seriously. 

How the fuck did this happen?

She was staring up into the golden eyes of her best friend. Well. One of her best friends. The best friend her other best friend, Kagome, had been in love with. And they were panicked. Almost as panicked as hers were. And they were getting closer. Because he was going to kiss her. Because they had no choice. And they were all freaking out. 

So. 

How the hell had this happened again? And better yet. What the fuck was she going to do about it?

***

"Come on," she begged, showing them all her cellphone screen. "It will be fun."

"For who?" Inuyasha snorted, taking another swig of his beer. They were in a bar - their favorite local joint, watching the Saturday night game. They all enjoyed baseball. It might not have been quite as popular as it once was, with football taking over as "America's favorite past time", but it was still pretty popular. Especially if you were a group of broke as fuck college students. You could use your student ID to get discounted tickets to games...and said games were already pretty cheap...

The only thing was...They had never actually gone to a game. Because some of them - Inuyasha - was a bit cheaper than the others. 

Ok. Fine. She wasn't being fair. Inuyasha, being half dog demon, just didn't like crowds in general. The smells and sounds were overpowering, but you'd think that he'd adapted by now. It wasn't like he was born yesterday...

"For all of us..." Sango insisted as the man at the base swung and hit a home run. They all paused, watching and hollering in excitement as he ran the bases before settling down in their seats at the bar again as the cheering slowly settled. "Look," Sango continued, showing her phone to Kagome, her best girl friend. They had known each other since they were ten. Had gone through most of elementary school together. Then middle. Then high school, where they had met Inuyasha and Miroku. Now, they were in college. And at some point...they had both begun to pine for the two men seated with them. 

To be clear. 

When she said they had started pining for the two men seated with them, she meant that Kagome had a thing for the half demon seated to her left. She couldn't blame her...He was attractive. Silver hair...golden eyes...twitching dog ears...

Yeah. 

Sango could see it...But...

Inuyasha wasn't her taste. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with him...but...When you sat Inuyasha down next to a man like their other friend...

Miroku...

She internally sighed and tried to not let herself show her feelings for him as she glanced at said man. He wore his shoulder length hair down and lose tonight, and she swore he had a sixth sense about things...Because right at that exact moment, he decided to run his long, slender fingers through his hair as he looked at the phone she had just handed Kagome. The lone hoop earring in his lobe glinted in the dim bar lighting, and dirty thoughts of running her tongue along it entered her mind. The sinewy muscles of his arm popped and shifted as he moved that hand through his hair...the leather wrapped twine bracelet around his wrist drawing her eyes down his forearm - god, when had forearms become so sexy? - and to what they called the shmedium shirt he wore. Aka - a medium that was a tad too small. It was a deep purple. Almost eggplant. Just like his eyes...

Sango snapped herself out of it, and tried to focus on Kagome instead as she scrolled through the ticket information. 

She didn't need to think about how she could smell Miroku's old spice body spray over the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke in the room. 

Nope!

Nopenopenopenopenope!

Not at all. 

"This is for next weekend?" Miroku commented, and she was determined to ignore the way his voice sent butterflies through her stomach. 

"Yeah! Since it's a long weekend and all..."

Thank god for dim lighting. Because she was pretty sure she was blushing at the warm smile he just shot her. Her cheeks felt very hot. Annoyingly so. Like...She needed a bucket of ice water to douse herself with so she wouldn't set the whole damn place on fire hot. Annnnd she was freaking out now, because Inuyasha just rolled his eyes at her and took another sip of his beer. 

COOL IT SANGO. 

Get your shit together!

She snatched her beer off the table and took a sip from it, pointedly ignoring him when he mouthed 'ask him out' and tilted his head towards his friend, who was looking at the opposing team information. 

'Ask him out,' she mimicked, scrunching her face together in a way to let him know just what she thought of that idea. 

Aka. 

No way in hell. 

You see...For whatever reason...the three of them had kind of fallen into a bit of a...mutually agreed destruction situation. Because she knew for a fact that Inuyasha liked Kagome. And Kagome, as previously established, liked Inuyasha. And they both knew that she was really into Miroku...And apparently they were all stubborn fucks who went:

'You know what would be fun? Not telling anyone how we feel. Because we would rather be pining friends than happy couples.'

Smart, right?

It was amazing they were on the dean's list and in the honors program. 

Truly. 

Full teaser now LIVE on my patreon!

[hogarthwrites]

house sitting for two chapter 17

chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 16 pairing: Sam Drake/Reader (m/f) genre: smut, slow romance, mutual pining warnings: graphic sex, alcohol words: 2,901 summary: You're unsure about dating someone else and it makes you guilty about still being in love. You make your mind up when you run into a certain someone one night.

Sam and Sully had gone to Las Vegas. “Just because,” Sam reasoned. He needed to forget how empty he felt whenever it was nighttime and he was lonely in bed.

Instead, he and Sully gambled, outsmarting each other in their own games. At the end of the night, Sam would go to the nearest bar to drink. That’s where he was reunited with Victoria, an old flame he had just before Panama.

Victoria – or Vix – as he called her, was a nice enough woman. She was as loud as he remembered her and he genuinely did have fun with her, and there was an understanding between them: it was just sex.

He'd take her to his RV every night, and every single time he fucked her, he thought of you. As he dug his fingers into the soft skin of her hips, he closed his eyes, imagining you, drowning out the sounds of her moans. He couldn't understand how he became so attached to you but no other person.

It was then the telephone started ringing. Sam sighed, considering his options. He wasn't close yet and he wasn't in a hurry so he got up and hobbled to the phone.

“Yeah?” Sam leaned against the wall, expecting it to be Sully calling from his five-star hotel room, but there was no response.

“Come on, Sam, don't keep me waiting,” Victoria whined. “I was so close.”

“Just a second,” he turned away from her. “Hello? Hello?”

The line cut out, leaving Sam confused. Must've been a wrong number.

He drove Sully back to California the next day, feeling a little sad about being back in Paso Robles. It didn't stop him from looking around as he drove, hoping to get a glance of you – that is, if you stayed in the area.

“I've gotta say that was the first Vegas trip I've been on where I haven't made any life altering decisions,” Sully mused. “Hell, that was the mildest experience I've had.”

“Jeez, Victor, sorry I made it lame,” Sam joked. Deep down they knew they were too old to get shit faced drunk and make horrible decisions just after a few nights in Las Vegas.

“Ah, maybe next time,” Sully picked up his bags as Sam parked in front of his mid-century style home. “What's next for Samuel Drake?”

“Uh,” Sam thought. “Gonna visit a special lady named Irene, then hopefully my business partner can find another job for us.”

“Oh, Irene,” Sully chuckled.

“Ah, so you know her,” Sam smiled.

“The ‘70’s were a wild time, Sam,” Sully winked, confirming yours and Sam’s suspicions.

“Well, good for you, Victor. She's still single, just so you know.”

“Right,” Sully laughed. “Hey, maybe you should go up to Los Angeles, just see the sights. Weather’s nice this time of the year.”

Huh , Sam thought to himself. He hasn't been in LA in years. It won't hurt to stop by.

“Sure, Victor. I'll send you a postcard.”

“There's an open house this weekend,” Stephen said over the phone. “I hope you understand.”

“Yeah, I'm totally cool with it.” You lay in the hammock of your backyard, smoking a cigarette and mindlessly scrolled through social media. Sam was always on your Instagram, giving you just a glimmer of hope.

“I'll call as much as I can. I love you.”

You paused, chewing on you lip. “I'll see you soon, Steve.”

You felt the tiniest pang of guilt as you felt a bit of relief to be away from Stephen for two weeks. As much as you tried, you couldn't love him. Sam was still in your mind and everytime you had sex with Stephen, you thought about Sam. It just didn't feel as good.

It didn't stop you from being racked with guilt. You didn't want to be with Stephen, but you didn't want to be lonely.

I'm a horrible person and I had the audacity to call Sam a selfish bastard, you let out an angry puff of smoke. Maybe we are a lot more alike than I thought.

You groaned as you slid off the hammock hanging on your back porch and padded your way into your kitchen to get a drink. The silence was overwhelming while you poured yourself a glass of orange juice.

You retired to your room and climbed into your cold, empty bed. You hated the silence. You missed Sam’s voice as he talked on and on about something that excited him.

You read and reread the letter he wrote you in the hospital. It was short but it was enough to make you miss him every time.

I'm sorry. No one's ever done anything like that for me and I feel horrible. Please get better. I'll make you pancakes like I promised long ago.

I love you,

Sam

The landline phone caught your attention. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear his voice just for a bit.

You hastily got up and walked to the phone, mind racing as you picked up the receiver. You assured yourself it was fine and that Sam never had a caller ID.

Here goes, you held your breath as you dialed his number, dreading the ringing tones.

It kept ringing and you were scared it'll go to voicemail, but after a while, Sam finally picked up.

“Yeah?” He was out of breath.

Just that one word made your heart leap. You opened your mouth to say something when you heard someone in the background.

“Come on, Sam, don't keep me waiting,” a woman said in a sultry voice. “I was so close.”

“Just a second,” Sam called out. “Hello? Hello?”

You hung up. That was a terrible idea.

Irene was overjoyed to see Sam, peppering his face in kisses.

“Oh, you've grown so tall!” She joked. “It's so nice to see you, Sam.”

“You know I can't stay away from my favourite weed lady,” he chuckled.

“Are you staying long?”

“Nah, just dropping by to say ‘hi’.”

“Well ‘hi’ to you too,” she smiled.

She gave him a pan of banana bread (and some weed) before he left, asking if he ever got to see you. He wished he did.

You lay on the floor of your living room, music blasting on the stereo as you had a pity party. You had to end things with Stephen as the guilt was becoming too much for you to bear.

You had put the ring back on, staring at it as you held your hand up. You needed a drink.

The fluorescent lights of the store were a little too bright for you and you trudged to the fridge, ignoring the guy manning the cashier.

“You look like shit again,” he remarked.

“‘Kay, thanks for the input, Troy,” you muttered. Asshole.

You grabbed a few bottles of beer, hugging them to your chest. Just another Friday night.

“Sorry, I need a pack of cigarettes… Or two,” you heard a familiar voice. You peeked behind a shelf of condoms.

It was Sam. What the hell is he doing in LA and in this particular store too?

Fuck. You began to panic, glancing down at yourself. The grey sweatpants and your stained DIY shirt you painted years ago wasn’t the most flattering outfit and it didn't help that your hair was a mess.

You wanted him to just go, but through your panicked state, you dropped one of the bottles in your arms, catching Sam’s attention.

“Y/N?” He looked at you curiously.

“Heyy, Sam,” you sheepishly stepped away from the mess on the floor.

“Clean up on aisle two,” Troy mumbled, grabbing the broom and a mop.

“Sorry, I'll pay for that,” you tiptoed past him.

“No, I'll pay for it,” Sam looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. Your heart leaped when you met his gentle eyes. “That's a lot of bottles.”

“TGIF, right?” You awkwardly laughed. Idiot.

“Can't argue with that,” Sam smiled.

Troy totalled up yours and Sam’s purchases after a lot of whining. Sam helped you carry your bottles of beer.

“Where ya heading?” He asked.

“Home. It's not too far from here.”

“Come on, I'll give you a lift,” he nudged you.

“No, it's fine,” you shook your head.

“You don't wanna see my snazzy new tiny home?”

“Tiny home,” you chuckled. “Yeah, sure I'd love to see it.”

Sam had a nice little RV with his motorcycle secured on it. It wasn't too fancy inside; his books were neatly organised on a small shelf by the sofa/dining area, the plants you left him on a box by the window, and a large bed in the back with just a curtain for privacy.

“Wow,” you looked around. “What made you wanna get an RV?”

“Eh, just wanted to be able to move around easier,” he shrugged as he sat in the driver's seat. “It's not permanent, but it's been alright so far.”

You took the seat next to him, fastening your seatbelt.

“Where to?” Sam asked.

“Its just a few blocks away. Go west.”

It was supposed to be a short drive, but it felt longer to you. You didn't know what to say and neither did Sam, just Spandau Ballet softly playing on the radio filling in the silence.

“So,” Sam cleared his throat. “LA… Why? You planning on being in Hollywood?”

You shrugged. “I've always lived in smaller towns, I thought a bigger city might be an experience.”

“Right,” he nodded. “Do you like it?”

“It's been alright,” you shrugged again. “I haven't gotten around to exploring as much. Oh, it's just here.”

You pointed at the one-story Spanish revival house you've been staying in. Sam parked in front and you picked up your paper bag, heavy with the bottles.

“Let me help you with that,” Sam reached out, his hand touching your arm. It was enough to make you feel hot all over.

He locked eyes with you and for a moment, you thought he was leaning in to kiss you. You instinctively closed your eyes, waiting, but nothing happened.

When you opened your eyes, Sam was holding the paper bag and walking towards the door.

Oh, you were disappointed. What was I expecting?

He walked you to the door, his eyes on you the entire time.

“I missed you,” he said, making your heart leap again.

“Sam,” you looked up at him as you reached your door.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “I just… Couldn't get you out of my mind in months, I had to say it.”

“I missed you too,” you softly said.

This time, you felt his lips on yours, and you instinctively kissed him back. There were butterflies in your stomach, but the moment didn't last.

Sam stepped back, his face a little flushed. You felt your cheeks heat up as well.

He held out the paper bag to you. “Um, good night.”

“Good night…” You whispered as he turned to go back to his RV. “Sam, wait–”

He looked back, and you walked towards him.

“You can park in my driveway for the night… Or however long you're going to stay here.”

“I don't want to be a burden–”

“What? Sam, it's me. I…” You bit your lip. “I want you here. Maybe we can hang out.”

“Okay,” he smiled.

You took a deep breath as you closed your door behind you, your heart still racing. Sam kissed you and for the first time in months, you felt… Happy?

You placed the bottles in your fridge, no longer interested in drinking them, then changed into cleaner clothes for bed. You peeked out your window and saw the lights were still on in his RV.

You wanted to go to him, to kiss him more, to hold him again, but you thought of Stephen. True, he wasn't your boyfriend officially, but he trusted you. But still…

You found yourself in front of Sam’s door, and as you were about to knock, Sam opened the door.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

You stood, staring at each other as if you both couldn't believe it. Sam pulled you into his arms, and you kissed him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you in, closing the door behind him with his foot.

He sat you on the table, his hands sliding down to your ass.

“I missed you,” he whispered, his lips moving down to your neck.

You sighed as he left cool kisses on the hot skin of your neck. He pulled you close and you wrapped your legs around his waist again.

“Sam,” you whispered as he began lifting your shirt.

“What–what is it?” He rested his forehead on yours.

“Should we be doing this?” You asked, trailing your finger down his chest.

Sam kissed you. “I don't know, but it feels so right.”

Your shirt and your shorts were discarded somewhere around his RV and Sam had your legs over his shoulders as he kneeled in front of the table. He gave your clit a few licks, his eyes on yours the entire time.

“God, I missed this view,” you ran your fingers through his hair.

“What, your new boyfriend doesn't eat you out?” He gave you a smug smirk.

“He’s not my boyf–”

Sam continued licking your clit, closing his eyes as he pushed his face further against your pussy. It was getting too much for you and you tugged at his hair.

“More, Sam, more,” you moaned.

You felt him smile against you as he began sucking on your clit softly, switching between sucking and licking. You bucked your hips against him but he held you down.

Sam gave a satisfied hum as you came, your thighs squeezing his head.

“How was that?” He stood up, leaning over you on the table. It was then you noticed that he was still fully dressed, but the tent in his grey sweatpants was hard to ignore.

“I think I've been missing out on Samuel Drake,” you chuckled.

He pulled you up and carried you to the bed bridal style.

“Wait, Sam,” you sat up as he climbed over you.

“What?”

“I've been having sex.”

He blinked at you. “So?”

“And you have too, I assume?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “So?”

You pushed him away. “So put a condom on.”

Sam gave you an amused smile. “You know you're the only person I've never had safe sex with.”

“Good to know,” you stuck your tongue out. “But put one on.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, standing up.

Sam held the condom up before climbing on top of you to kiss you. “Happy?”

You took off his shirt and he climbed out of his sweatpants, cock glistening with precum. It was enough to get you wet.

He ripped the condom packet open and slipped it on with ease. Sam gave you soft, sweet kisses as he began pushing inside you.

You both gasped at the sensation, Sam had his lip pinned between his teeth as he pushed deep inside you. He began to thrust slowly and gently cupping your cheek.

“Harder,” you whispered, desperate for more.

Sam groaned as he began pounding into you, his hands sliding up your body to cup your breasts. He kissed you hard as he collapsed on top of you, rolling over so you were on top of him.

“I wanna see you,” he said, moving your hips against his. “I wanna see you fucking me.”

You placed your hands against the headboard, bouncing on his cock. You moaned out his name loudly; something you've been wanting to do for months. It felt so good to finally have him under you and all you wanted was to make him feel good, to make up for all the lost time.

Sam pulled you in to kiss you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I missed you too,” you sighed between kisses.

“I forgot how good you feel,” he kissed your neck.

His hands slid down to your ass, spreading then as he rammed his hips up against yours. You grabbed at the pillow at his head, crying out loud. His finger dipped into your asshole and you moaned out.

The dual sensation was enough to make you cum, and Sam wasn’t far behind. He kissed you hard as he came, holding you close.

You were breathless as you rolled off him and he took the condom off, dunking it into the trash.

The bed dipped as he climbed back in, lying on his back next to you.

“Wanna see something cool?” Sam smiled.

He pressed a button and the rather large sunroof opened up, letting in more of the moonlight and the dim streetlights.

“Oh, that is cool,” you grinned. “Why didn't you show me before we fucked?”

“I don't think your neighbours would be too happy seeing us fornicate if they happened to look out the window.”

“You think they can really see us?”

Sam shrugged, putting an arm under his head and stared up at the sky with you.

“Do you wanna go out tomorrow?” You asked.

“Are you gonna give me the Grand Los Angeles tour?”

“Honestly, I haven't even toured it myself,” you sheepishly said. “It hasn't really felt like home.”

“Well,” Sam looked up in thought. “Maybe we can start with Santa Monica? I believe it isn't too far from here.”

“Okay,” you took his hand in yours.

[out-of-jams]

Vesper || jjk

↠ Vesper↞ “There’s a first time for everything.”

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/Genre: doberman hybrid!kook. human reader. explicit language. fluff. PG 13. one shot.

This fic is apart of The Hybrid Collab hosted by @jeonggukkiepabo​! A special thank you to Anna for bearing with my idiotic forgetfulness, aka me writing this and then forgetting to post it over my hiatus. 🥴 ᵖˡˢ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ  (also it’s a lot shorter now than it had been when i’d written it bc sfw lol)

All works here are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission. That is illegal and you are stealing no matter if you give credit or not

Cold – adjective.

Definition: freezing your fucking ass off.

You were well acquainted with the word– all but became one with it– what, with how absolutely balls cold out it was. The line to get into Vesper was stretched all the way down the sidewalk outside of the building, and extended out of sight around the corner. Sounds of city life echoed through the streets, cars zooming in between traffic and music leaking out of the bars.

From the crack in Vesper’s backdoor, the beginning’s of a hip-hop song filtered from the expensive sound system. It was loud, eardrum-rattling so, and you closed your eyes, leaning against the brick wall off to the side. A cloud of white left your parted lips as your warm breath hit the biting chill in the air. It was too bad that you were nowhere near drunk enough for the weather not to bother you.

Why you’d chosen to follow your friends out in sub-freezing temperatures was a mystery. You hated clubs, how packed to the walls they were, filled with writhing bodies so close together like sardines. It made you feel utterly claustrophobic, but it was your friend’s birthday and so you couldn’t opt out of following along with the group’s plans for the night. Not that you were ever able to say no to them when they insisted on dragging you out to the place.

Vesper was a popular club that you were sometimes forced to go to, located in the heart of downtown that catered to not only humans, but hybrids as well. It wasn’t the first establishment to do so, seeing as how hybrids integrated into society more than a decade ago. No longer were they as discriminated against as they once were, back when they first came about.

No one was 100% certain on how they’d even come to be; some sort of radiation exposure. The first hybrids had been humans, before they changed, morphed. Due to some sort of exposure to radiation, their cells had multiplied and transformed over the course of a few weeks until half of their genetic makeup resembled animal genes.

While the blatant racism had died out over the years, some, the more elitist members of society, still discriminated against hybrids. Looked down at them because they were born to be ruled more by their animal instincts than their human counterparts. Treated them as less-than because they weren’t completely human, when they were really just misunderstood.

Because of the fact that they were more tapped into their animal side and therefore behaved that way, hybrids used to be seen as beings who could be let loose into society. Who could not “control themselves.” So they took them as pets, tried to tame and sell them.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you fished a cardboard box from the inside pocket of your coat. The sound of you tapping out a white cigarette was in time with the beat of the song pouring outside, and blended in with the cars honking out past the alleyway. Normally, you weren’t one for smoking. But after the stress of college finals week on top of the feeling of the walls closing in on you back inside Vesper, you’d asked one of your friends for their carton in hopes of calming your racing heart.

“Shit,” you murmured as you scoured your pant pockets for a lighter and then groaned when you failed to find one.

Because of course, your luck was anything but lucky and you really didn’t feel like trying to part the sea of sweaty people back inside in search of one. Pursing your lips, you let your head tip back against the brick wall behind you and let your eyes flit over the light polluted sky like it somehow held the answers to all of your life’s problems.

“Need a light?”

The addition of a new voice had you jumping away from the wall with a startled squeak. Hand pressed to your chest as if that would somehow restart your skipping heart, you whirled around. Standing in the now wide-opened back doorway into Vesper was a familiar face. Well, as familiar as a practical stranger could be.

Beneath the single, flickering light in the alley, his black t-shirt with SECURITY printed in white glowed in the surrounding darkness. It stretched itself over his broad shoulders, the bottom tucked into the slim waist of his pants. Your gaze slowly slid up his tanned neck, past his coral colored, pouty lips, sharp jaw, and the straight bridge of his nose. His wavy, dark hair was parted a little off-center, the sides falling over his forehead until it threatened to hide his stare from your view.

Finally, your eyes met his. Framed by long eyelashes, they were a bright, inhuman shade of lilac. Not all hybrids were equipped with the features of one, like a set of sensitive, animal-like ears or even a tail. If a human and a hybrid got together and had children, those kids would end up possessing more human cells than animal. Therefore, their appearances mirrored that.

But they were never completely indiscernible.

Just like every other time you’d ever laid your sights on him, your pulse skyrocketed and your stomach fell through the floor. And also like every other time, you pushed the feeling away and refused to acknowledge it. Because harboring a crush on a man who you’d only conversed with occasionally was a bad idea.

Especially when they were as handsome as he was.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungkook apologized shyly. His voice wasn’t too deep, nor was it high; lying right in the middle. Switzerland

“No, it’s alright.”

It was notalright, if only because the man made you feel flustered.

The only time the two of you really interacted was whenever he’d be scheduled to man security at Vesper’s entrance checking IDs. A small comment about the weather here, a compliment given with a flash of a smile with the reddening of cheeks there. Hell, the only reason you even knew his name was because it was etched onto the heart of his shirt.

“So,” Jungkook began, still standing in the doorway like some kind of club guardian. “Need a light?” He nodded his head at the unlit white stick tucked between your fingers, his parted hair brushing across his eyebrows with the movement.

“Oh. Yeah, you have one,” you asked.

He answered your query by pulling a lighter from the back of his pants pocket and finally slipped away from the door, leaving it open a crack so the two of you wouldn’t get locked out. The music flooding out from inside quieted down to a barely-there whisper. Pressing the cigarette between your lips, you almost faltered when he stepped close to you.

Jungkook’s body heat practically swallowed you whole as he entered your personal space with a cute smile pulling up at the corners of his lips. His two front teeth were a little too big for his mouth and you would’ve suspected his animal counterpart to be a bunny or rabbit of some sort if it wasn’t for his job. The small mammals tended to be pacifists and you doubted working as a security guard counted towards pacifism.

The lighter came to life with a clickand a tiny burst of flame, and you watched from beneath your lashes as he lit the end of your preferred cigarette. As soon as you felt the heat of the smoke sear itself into your lungs, a thought came to you.

“Wait,” you began, lowering the white stick from your lips to dangle from your cold fingers. “Doesn’t the smell bother you?”

Jungkook’s cheeks puffed up beneath the weight of another smile and he stepped back from crowding you to lean a shoulder against the brick wall. “My roommate, Yoongi, smokes. So I’m used to it.” He tapped a finger to his nose.

“If you’re sure,” you said hesitantly.

“I’m sure.”

Humming, you resumed your position of leaning against the brick, your shoulder only a few inches away from his. Hybrid’s tended not to wear perfume or cologne because of their elevated sense of smell, but Jungkook must have been wearing some. Or perhaps it was just the scent of his laundry detergent that drifted from his body like an invisible cloud.

It was comforting. In a way that you couldn’t quite understand.

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, you took a slow drag from your cigarette and made care to blow the resulting smoke away from him. “Ditching work?”

He was looking out past the alleyway and towards the busy street beyond. Jungkook’s side profile was stunning even in the near darkness. “Technically, I amworking.”

“Oh?” Your voice was filled with amusement. “Expecting someone to pop out from the darkness like Batman and attack the club?”

He snorted, his tongue darting out to wet his soft looking lips. “Batman would never attack a club.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” Shrugging, you sneaked a peak over at him again to notice him already looking at you. His violet hued eyes glowed brightly as they roved over your features appreciatively.

“How about a first date then?”

You sputtered, choking on nothing except air at his blunt words. “I–what?”

Jungkook broke eye contact for a moment, your reaction coaxing a light shade of pink onto his cheeks. “I like you. And I know we don’t really know each other, but we always end up running into each other, which is why I want to change that.” He looked back at you, expression soft. “If you’re interested, of course.”

“I..,” swallowing, your mouth opened and closed in shock before your tongue finally let the syllables slip. “I would like that very much.”

His answering grin lit up the shadows lingering in the alleyway.

[ljstlr]

Unspoken Words.

vernon (hansol) x reader

genre: angst

! tw: cigarettes, alcohol, bullying.

words: 2119

——————————————————————————

You can’t exactly explain how this set-up happened. It was 3 in the morning and you were smoking cigarettes with the guy who lived next door at the back of a convenience store. The vibe that the night gave was spectacular and you both sat there in silence.

There was only 4 hours left until school starts so you and your ‘friend’ smoked your last cigarette and called it a day. You walked back to your houses and he nodded at you when you reach your front porch.

He gave you a faint smile and you gave him one back. You quietly tip-toed to your room and immediately fell asleep with the contact of your bed.

By the afternoon, you were trying hard to keep up with the conversations in your lunch table. Everyone was talking at once and it was hard to focus on just one. When you were about to speak to make everyone shut up, you saw something that caught your attention.

Vernon was being dragged by the collar once again by the same group of boys. You watch as they push him around and have evil laughs come out their mouths. The pain in Vernon’s face was evident but he never fought back.

And you wondered why.

The chaos eventually stopped when a teacher stepped in and assisted Vernon away from the scene. You always felt bad for him, but you never felt like it was your place to speak up about it.

The faint sounds of rocks tapping your window was a signal from your neighbor that he was ready to go to the usual spot. You blinked your lights twice to tell him that you were coming.

You unlocked the house door as quite as possible and you saw him sitting in the sidewalk as he waited for you. He gave you a smile as he stood up and dusted off the dirt on his pants. You offered one back.

As usual, the walk to the store was quiet. You watched as he pulled out his fake ID to purchase a pack of cigarettes and a few beers. The two of you then hid behind the store and sat at the usual spot to consume the products that he recently bought.

The smoke from the cigarettes surrounded your vision. The two of you weren’t that addicted to smoking and a pack would usually last you both a week. The silence was relaxing as you felt the alcohol pass through your throat for the first time that night.

Hours passed and the usual four hours before school starts mark came so you signaled him that it was time to go but he gestured you to stop and sit down for a second.

“(y/n), I need to tell you something.” You were taken aback when the boy spoke to you. These were the first words that he ever told you after months of hanging out at midnight.

“Hit me.” You told him which put a smile in his face. You were yet to know that he was glad to finally hear your voice after the longest time.

“I’m moving out of the state.” He spoke and you were … in disbelief. Your heart felt as if like it sank and you can’t exactly explain why.

Maybe because he became your safe zone where you could be yourself for a moment. Although words were never exchanged, you considered him as someone who’s close to you because he never once judged you for enjoying things like smoking or drinking – he even joined you to it.

“Can I ask why?” You replied and he nodded.

“My guardians found out about the bullying in school. They want to take me away to another state for a clean start.” Vernon explained and you frowned.

Vernon obviously was considered an outcast at school. He was silent and that made stupid bullies push him around because he never talked back. They would even bring up the boy’s dark past, but he still remained quiet. You honestly hated it, but who were you to judge him when you barely knew anything about him?

“How long until you leave?” You ask and you were scared for the answer.

“A week.” And you can’t deny that you wished that a week would never come.

In the morning, you woke up ahead of your alarm to get ready for school. Your parents were in shock seeing you leave for school so early when you were always a late comer – they’d have to drag you to the bathroom in the usual mornings for you to leave your bed.

But you couldn’t afford to be late. You had to spend time with him before he left. A smile was painted on your face as you ran towards Vernon who was a few steps ahead from you. He was shocked to see you.

“(y/n)?” He spoke with a clear indication that he was confused on why you were interacting with him. It wasn’t midnight, and it was clear day.

No one knew that you were friends with him. That would ruin you.

“Let’s walk to school, don’t want to be late.” You simply responded and he stood in his spot still confused. But nevertheless, he couldn’t contain his smile as he walked fast to catch up with you.

And there it was, the stares. He felt nervous as people started to chatter, laugh, whisper, and look at the two of you. But you didn’t care, and Vernon saw that. He was left in awe as you ignored everyone and kept walking with him.

Suddenly, your path was blocked by a very familiar set of men.

“Are you fucking serious, (y/n)?” Minghao spoke in a harsh tone.

You hated the term, but you were part of the students who were considered popular. And your group of friends valued their reputation like a saint on a pedestal, so other students seeing you with someone like Vernon would cause them problems.

“Yes, I am, Minghao. And if you don’t leave him alone, God knows what little secret of yours I’d tattle that’ll ruin the shit out of you.” You responded bravely and quickly took a hold of Vernon’s arm to walk away.

Vernon could feel his heartbeat racing in his chest; he even felt like it would jump out and just collide with yours but that’s anatomically impossible, right?

You spent the entire day at school with Vernon. And you loved every second of it. Every time he spoke, he made you laugh and smile. And every single word you would say, he’d listen carefully. You wished you spent more time with him like this.

The smile you showed to everyone that day was more genuine than ever and even the people around you noticed that. Vernon, he really just made you feel like you’re over the moon.

Vernon felt the same way as he watched you talk about your favorite band while munching on your yogurt. He was pretty sure that the ice cream shop’s employees were bothered by you being really talkative, but he showed no care.

He loved seeing you like this.

The days flew by fast, and you grew so much closer to Vernon in that short span of days. When you were together, it’s like the people around you don’t exist, and the world was made only for the two of you.

You were in the park today. You sat down on the swing as Vernon insisted to push the swing for you as you both waited for the sunset. The calming silence coming back once again after days and days of just talking.

“Vernon, can I ask you something?” You asked; eyes focused on the sun that’s about to set.

“Hit me.” He chuckled as he mimicked your first words to him.

“How come you never spoke up to the bullies...?” He let out a sigh when you finished your sentence.

You felt the swaying of your swing put to a halt as he sat down on the swing seat next to yours.

“My parents were everything to me back then, (y/n).” He spoke and you could see the tears that were waiting to break free from his eyes.

“Before my mom died, her last words to me were ‘don’t you ever be a prey, son.’” He let out a faint laugh.

“And so, even if I was being pushed down, dragged around, whatever shit they gave me. I never talk back cause if I do, it’s an indication to them that they’re getting to me.” He paused for a while to appreciate the beauty of the sunset.

“That’s why they won’t leave me alone, (y/n). They hated that I never once fought back or told them to stop, because they want the inferiority complex to know that they have a prey, but I didn’t give them that.” He took a deep breath.

His parents were preys of the rich people when he was younger. They were wrongfully pinpointed with being drug addicts that was causing the chaos in the neighborhood and everyone believed that because they talked back.

They tried to fight for themselves and the rich knew that they had their prey. Which lead to their unjustified execution and left Vernon parentless. He loved his parents with his whole heart, but he refused to go down the same road as them.

“(y/n), with words being left unspoken, you’re much safer that way.” He finally turned to look at you and gave you a smile.

You smiled back and took a hold of his hand. His heart started racing once again.

“As the sun sets tonight, I want you to set away everything that has happened here, Vernon. Every single thing.” You whispered to him.

In the back of your mind, you never wanted him to forget you. But he’s already been through enough and he deserves that.

You could see the same reaction in his eyes. He didn’t want to forget about you, hell, he even wants to stay back for you.

But he knows you wouldn’t like that.

“And as the sun rises tomorrow, I want you to rise up and kick ass in the new life you’re about to have.” He laughed as you finished with your words.

You squeezed his hands and it caused him to hold tighter onto yours. And you were glad he couldn’t hear the loud beating that your heart was going through right now.

“You deserve a clean start, Vernon. You have a heart of gold and the best things in life belongs to you.” You reassured him.

You felt him move closer to you and you don’t know how your heart is still alive at this point. But you moved closer as well until the gap between the two of you eventually closed.

As the sun sets in the background, you shared a passionate kiss.

The next day, you watched people lift heavy boxes onto a moving truck next door. You couldn’t bring yourself to come down and say goodbye to Vernon because you’re scared that you might get down on your knees and beg him not to go.

And for the past days, that’s what Vernon has been waiting for you to do. Especially since the kiss last night, he hated to leave you all alone in this town. But he knows you well and you don’t want to hold him back. He sighed as he closed the door of his house next to you one last time.

Before getting into the car, he looked up to your window and saw you watching him. He waved you goodbye and so did you.

“Until the next time that we meet.” You mouthed to each other which caused the both of you to share a laugh one last time.

He smiled through the pain and finally got inside their car. You watched as the cars and trucks leave their driveway and he was officially gone. You laid down on your bed to look up in the ceiling, but you felt something uncomfortable under your pillow.

You sat up and removed the pillow near the bedframe and you saw an almost crushed cigarette box resting under.

You picked up the box and saw that there were three remaining cigarette sticks inside. You shook the box and the sticks fell directly in your palm.

You noticed a blank ink residue, so you used your finger to rotate the sticks and you saw that each stick had written words in them.

To my dearest (y/n), the first stick wrote.

The sun of my life, the second stick wrote.

I love you. the last stick wrote.

You let go of the first two sticks for a while and hold on to the last stick. You felt a tear come out of your eye as you read the words over and over.

“I love you too, Vernon.” And just like how your story with Vernon started, it ended the same way,

With words being left unspoken.

[kindiekritz]

Get Some Rest, Samurai...

Via Anon Ask; “because im also a sap for Johnny and V- How do you think Johnny would help V cope with a panic attack? Especially when its likely something he's feeling laggy echoes of himself if he's in her head during it? (hurt/comfort is a FAVE of mine and i have anxiety, can ya' tell?)”

B ro,, don’t worry anon bc same here, we are anxiety homies together 👏😔 - This is my first time writing for Johnny Silverhand! Trying to get back on the writing boat, (haven't forgotten my previous fic!) and there's nothing like simping for video game characters to get that inspiration flowing. Do let me know what you think! Johnny may be a bit too OOC in this, I may have gone a little bit overboard with the soft? Ah well, I hope someone will enjoy it regardless :P

Here is the Ao3 Link! :D

V’s time was running out. 

Every time the relic in their head would malfunction, every time they went into a coughing fit and the disgusting taste of metallic blood would fill their mouth, every time he would manifest himself in her head and V would catch a glimpse of his stupid fucking face…

V was reminded of the fact that their time was running out, and fast.

And despite the fact that they were doing everything in their power to stop the construct in her mind from completely destroying her from the inside out, that didn’t stop the fact that she still had to pay the rent. 

In fact, it wasn’t cheap coughing up the eddies to pay Rouge for her services, or having to pay for bigger and better gear that would keep her alive when dealing with Arasaka guards, hell, it wasn’t cheap to keep purchasing more and more bottles of Omega Blockers, the pills were the only thing that kept him from completely taking control. 

She found herself taking more and more gigs, trying to simply keep up with the extra costs of having a completely second personality living rent-free in her mind. But even then… she couldn’t find it in herself to reject or turn away people who needed her help, even if they had little to nothing to offer in return. 

It seemed as if her phone was constantly buzzing with calls and texts of people who wanted and needed her help. No matter where she went or what she did, people needed her services, people needed her time.

And yet, time was something that she had very little left of.

V was exhausted. The bags under her eyes revealed that she hadn’t slept in days, and she couldn’t remember when she last had a proper meal.

She was always on the go, she didn’t have time to take care of herself.

But as she groggily opened the door to her apartment, she thought to herself that… maybe, just maybe… she would finally let herself take a nice, long warm shower.

V was too exhausted to care about the possibility of Johnny potentially staring at her nude form as she stood under the running water. Hell, let him stare for all she cared! The thought of warm water running over her exhausted muscles, washing away the dirt and grime of the city… it was too appealing at that moment. 

She removed her weapon slung across her back, letting her beloved leather Samurai jacket slip off her shoulders and onto the ground, too exhausted to care about putting it away properly. 

The weight of the gun in her hands was normally a welcome and grounding presence for V when she was on a mission, the weapon in her hands keeping her safe from those who wished to do her harm. But now? It felt too heavy, unbearably so, as if the weight would make her topple over onto the floor below. The muscles in her arms were exhausted and spent. As she rotated her shoulder she heard the joints audibly pop. The consequences of pushing her body too far.

She would do anything for the physical ache to go away. 

As she stepped through the door to her armory and switched on the fluorescent lights of the room, her gaze fell upon someone already there, casually lounging atop her workbench and raising a cigarette to his mouth, pausing to speak before inhaling a deep puff of smoke.

“Damn V. You look like shit.”

She rolled her eyes at his comment, and made her way to her weapon locker instead, trying to ignore the weight of his gaze on the nape of her neck.

V fiddled with the combination, her foggy mind struggling to remember the correct numbers and the correct order, her fingers felt clumsy and uncoordinated as she inputs each digit. V cursed herself for making it so damn difficult, but eventually, she finally managed to swing the metal door open, proceeding to put her gun away amongst her collection of stored weapons. 

Johnny hopped off of the workbench, stepping towards V as she organized her storage, resting his metal arm against the locker, using his height to his advantage as he towered over her and confronted her. “No, seriously V, you look like shit. When was the last time you slept?”

“Fuck— Johnny, I dunno… A few days I guess?” V slammed the door of the locker using more force than necessary, Johnny already starting to get on her nerves, the last thing she needed was Johnny Fucking Silverhand following her around like a worried mother hen. V pouted and huffed, blowing away a stubborn strand of hair that had fallen across her face, then turning to meet his gaze, hidden behind wine-colored lenses, and asked, “Why do you care anyway?”

“You’ve been on edge all day, I can feel it. You’re like a string that’s been strung too strongly. I feel like you’re ready to snap at any fuckn’ moment, V.” 

She could feel his stare on her body and the tension in the room was beginning to suffocate her. He was poking at a sensitive topic for her, and he knew it. 

V stuttered, trying to find the right words to say as she couldn't bring herself to look at him in the eye anymore, instead choosing to halfheartedly push him aside and walk away, “Johnny… I’m fine. Really. I just— I just need a shower and a nap, that’s all.”

As V stepped out of the room, the weight on her chest seemed to grow heavier with each step. 

She wanted to crumble, she wanted to cry. 

She just wanted to wrap up herself in a bundle of blankets and cry into an order of takeout. One of those ugly cries that made snot dribble from your nose and your cheeks flushed and red.

She wanted— no, V needed to let everything out.

But… she couldn’t. She didn’t have the time for it, she needed to get back to work soon. Here were people that needed her help and there were eddies to be made. She would let herself rest when she’d gotten that damned biochip out of her head.

It was at that moment when V’s phone began to ring, the sound interrupting her thoughts and causing her to pause in her step.

Almost as if on reflex, she quickly reached into her pocket and withdrew the device, not even bothering to check the caller ID before answering, “V speaking, what do you want?”

“V, it’s Regina. I’ve got another report of a cyberpsycho attack…”

V stopped listening to the voice on her phone, too distracted by the crushing pressure on her chest and the fact that she had begun to tremble and shake like a leaf.

All she had wanted was a hot shower and a night in, was that too much to ask?

After weeks of dodging blades and bullets, running meaningless errands and tasks for just a few eddies in return, spending sleepless nights that left dark circles under her eyes, and going days on end without even seeing her fucking apartment, all she wanted was a night in.

Was that too much to fucking ask?

She could faintly register Johnny’s voice coming from behind her, an uncharacteristically concerned tone in his voice as he asked, “...V? What’s wrong?”

The pressure in her chest grew heavier by the second, her breaths becoming strained and labored as the increasing fear and dread overwhelmed her body. She gripped her phone tightly in her hand, glaring at the device with tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

“V? Are you listening? I said that there’s another report of a cyberpsycho near your current position, are you still—“

With a press of a button, she hung up the phone.

Johnny watched V, her form trembling and shoulders tensed.

In all of their weeks stuck together, he’d never seen his little merc look so small. A real juxtaposition when compared to her usual self; a real fucking hardass, she was the only other person Johnny had ever met that was just as bullheaded and stubborn as himself. 

As much as he teased her about it, Johnny knew one thing for certain. V was strong, V was determined. A damned force of nature and he pitied the bastards that stood in her way.

But despite the cybernetics in her body and the chip in her mind… V was human. V had her limits.

The facade she’d built up for herself couldn’t last forever, and Johnny knew it. He’d sensed the cracks in her resolve grow larger and larger with each sleepless night and after every exhausting gig.

But for a brief second, a thought crossed Johnny’s mind; 

V was fractured… V was broken… V was weak.

And with that thought, V finally snapped.

“I AM NOT FUCKING WEAK!”

V cried out, lobbing her phone at him. It phased right through him, instead hitting against the wall, shattering the screen, and sending the device flying into some unknown corner of the room. 

She froze, her eyes widening in shock, almost as if she couldn’t believe what she had done. The realization slowly setting in after the result of her outburst.

V’s vision blurred as tears welled in the corners of her eyes, she slowly fell to the cold floor, cradling her knees up to her chest and muffling her sobs in her arms.

Johnny watched as she sat in the middle of the room and sobbed. 

She didn’t let herself cry when Jackie had died, she didn’t let herself cry when Vic told her that she was practically dying. V didn’t cry as she carried Evalyn’s bloodied body, and V didn’t cry late at night when she was alone, and her chest felt tight and her throat choked up.

He knew it was coming, he could feel V’s emotions as they bubbled up and reached their boiling point. 

But what truly surprised him, was just how much it hurt him to see his little merc cry.

“Shit— V…” he nervously swallowed his throat, but try as he might, for once in his goddamn existence, he couldn’t find the right words to say.

Johnny didn’t like the way he felt. 

Johnny didn’t like the way she made him feel at that moment.

He didn’t like the way his chest tightened at the sound of each of her sobs. The way he felt so restless as he could only watch her curl onto herself for comfort. He couldn’t stop himself from pacing back and forth across the room, unsure if it was her anxiety or his that was setting him off. 

Johnny could almost feel V’s heart racing in her chest, the adrenaline flooding her veins, adrenaline meant to stimulate a fight or flight reaction. But when the pain and panic swelled from within her own chest, there was nowhere V could run, nobody she could physically fight.

All she could do was sob into her knees, desperately trying to hide her sobs and cries from him, but her own cries easily overpowered her. 

And because of him, she didn’t even feel like she had the ability to freely have a goddamn mental breakdown in her own apartment, even as she choked and sobbed, she tried to grasp onto the shattered remains of her facade. Was it for her sake, or for his?

At that point… neither of them knew.

V couldn’t stop her body from trembling. She tightly gripped onto herself until her knuckles turned white. But V didn’t notice. It didn’t even register in her mind.

She didn’t register the hot tears as they streamed down her face, the shuddering cries that caused her lip to quiver with each breath. She couldn’t recognize that no matter how hard she tried, her frantic breaths caused her lungs to feel as if they were on fire, incapable of delivering oxygen to her body.

V’s mind didn’t even register the fact that Johnny had stopped pacing back and forth.

Her mind cursed at her to get her shit together. V needed to wipe away those tears and she needed to get back on the streets. A moment of weakness could’ve gotten her killed in her past, and now was no different. 

But… the thought of standing up and leaving her apartment caused another fresh wave of sobs to rattle her body.

She was tired… she was so goddamn exhausted… 

“V…”

All she wanted was a night in. Was that too much to ask? After all of her hard work and effort, hadn’t she earned it?

“V, listen to me.”

Clearly, she hadn’t done enough if people were still calling, still demanding her presence. Clearly she—

V felt something warm touch her cheek.

Someone was there. 

Although her mind had stopped temporarily spiraling, she felt the wet salty tears dripping down her face, her vision was still blurry, and her cheeks were incredibly flushed. She must’ve looked… pathetic she thought. But regardless, she allowed herself to look up at the person who had reached out to her.

The cold of his metal rings juxtaposed the warmth of his hand, and as her eyes trailed up towards his arms, she caught sight of his familiar tattoos, but also an unfamiliar detail as she reached his face.

Instead of seeing her reflection in the lenses of his glasses, she was surprised to see his eyes staring into hers. Gone was any trace of malice or cruelty, instead his brown eyes reflected nothing but concern… an emotion she’d never expected to see from him.

Johnny. 

As her tearful eyes met his, he could’ve almost sworn that he felt his engram heart stop beating for a second. The tears rolling down her cheeks, the way her lip trembled with each breath. He didn’t know why the sight of V feeling so upset affected him so, he blamed her emotions, her hormones, whatever came into his mind. He hated the way she made him feel, he hated that she had this much power over him. 

But most of all, he hated the fact that he felt so powerless to stop it.

He would’ve gladly taken V cussing him out, he would’ve taken V nagging at him and complaining about the smell as he smoked in her apartment. He would’ve even happily taken V as she sang along to the car radio, something she’d originally done to get onto his nerves, but now it has become a sound he’s grown… to tolerate. Even sometimes… appreciate it. 

He wasn’t the type to comfort people like this, he was the type to leave as soon as emotions came into play, the countless amount of hearts that he’d broken in the past were evidence enough. Fuck, he didn’t know how to deal with his own goddamn emotions, blowing up Arasaka tower as revenge to deal with his grief, that’s what got him into this mess.

But as he wiped away a tear from her soft cheek with his calloused thumb… he wasn’t going to just sit there and let his little merc cry.

“V. You’ve done more than enough for this city than it deserves. You’re always running back and forth, trying to make this shithole a better place… all while trying to keep yourself alive.” He wanted to tell her that this damned city didn’t deserve her generosity, it didn’t deserve her hard work, fuck, this city didn’t deserve her.  

He didn’t deserve her.

And she didn’t deserve what he was doing to her.

“You keep spreading yourself too thin, you keep wanting to do shit for others, you keep wanting to help. But then you add the cherry on top — the fact that there’s a chip in your head slowly killin’ ya… You’ve got enough on your plate. You’ve earned a few nights of rest.”

V sniffled and tried to wipe away tears, her voice wavering as she spoke, “I-If I don’t keep goin’ if I don’t keep looking for a solution— I’m gonna die. Johnny, I don’t want to die—“

“V, you’re gonna end up dead long before the chip has an opportunity to kill you if you keep pushing yourself like this… You need to get some rest.”

He was right. As much as she fucking hated it… he was right.

She felt his metal hand cup her other cheek, the cool metal refreshing against the flushed skin, wiping away tears as he continued to speak.

“You’ve proven yourself enough to this city. You’ve proven yourself enough to me. But running yourself to the bone is not worth it in order to prove it to yourself. And you’re not alone V… as much as they get on my fuckn’ nerves, you’ve got chooms lookin’ out for ya, even if one of them is a fuckn’ cop—“

Through tears, V chuckled and playfully chided him, “Johnny…”

There it was… that little chuckle of hers that he was looking for. He wouldn’t admit it to others, he wouldn’t even admit it to himself, but V’s laughter never failed to make him feel something funny in his chest… it wasn’t like the high of drugs or liquor, but it felt just as addictive. It wasn’t like the adrenaline rush of a firefight or the rush during a show, but it made him feel just as excited and lightheaded.

He cleared his throat, trying to get his mind off of that feeling, and spoke, “Listen… all I’m saying… is that you’re not alone V. And although I don’t have much of a choice, whenever you need me…” he playfully smiled as his eyes met hers, “I’m always here for ya V.”

And that’s all it took.

In one moment to another, V wrapped her arms around his waist, knocking him on his ass from his previous kneeling position, and burying her head against his chest.

Despite sharing a head and body, somehow, someway, V always found a way to surprise him.

He groaned, the deep rumbles from his chest as he spoke making V settle in closer, anchoring herself to his presence.

“Fuck, V, a little warning next time would be nice.”

But even as he whined… he wasn’t complaining. Not when her sobs were beginning to fade, and she was instead chuckling at his expense in his arms. 

He ignored that funny feeling in his chest as his organic arm wraps itself against her body, his calloused hand rubbing circles against the small of her back, feeling her trembling begin to slow under his soft touch. Over time, her breathing began to even, and soon enough she was taking deep breaths as she recovered. 

Without even consciously doing so, Johnny’s metal hand found itself entwined with the strands of her hair, softly caressing as V’s eyes began to droop, and exhaustion began to overtake her body.

“V… it’s time for you to go to bed.”

“I’m fine Johnny, I’m—“ a yawn interrupted her mid-sentence, “I’m not even tired.”

“And I’m not buying it.” He chuckled as his arm wrapped around her midsection.

“W-wait Johnny what are you— Johnny!” In an instant, V was thrown over his shoulder as he stood from the ground, and she gripped onto him in order to avoid falling to the floor.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking you to bed.” He chuckled as he felt her hand playfully slap against his shoulder.

“Fucking hell Johnny, a warning would be nice!” He could almost imagine her expression as he walked across the apartment, the way she would pout in exasperation.

“Just repaying the favor, that’s all.” He smirked as he reached her bed. Slowly setting her down from his shoulder onto the mattress below. 

“There. It’s time that you allowed yourself to get some rest, and not that weird shit you do where you sleep across the bed huddled in a little ball, but some actual sleep, under the covers and all.” 

“Fine, fine…” V slipped into a pair of nightclothes as Johnny had the decency to look away, and then slipped under the blankets, making herself comfortable. But before she drifted off to sleep, she called out, “Johnny?”

“... yeah?”

“I just— I just wanted to say thanks. Y’know, for tonight and all.”

“‘Course…” he stepped towards the bed once more as he spoke, “I mean, if I’m the one telling you that you need some rest, you probably fucked up somewhere along the way.”

“That’s true… judging from your memories, you’re terrible at following your own advice, Johnny.” She smiled at him, uncertain if the lack of sleep had made her delirious or if perhaps she was feeling particularly honest that night, but she spoke, “Y’know, if fucking up this badly was the catalyst for us to meet… I would do it all over again.”

He smiled sadly in return, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his cold metal hand brushing her cheek as he did so. An action to acknowledge the words between them were best left unspoken and unsaid— at least, for now.

“...Goodnight V.” He tore his gaze from her as he turned to walk away.

“Wait— Johnny!”

She grasped his metallic hand before he had the opportunity to pull away.

“... stay with me? Just for tonight?”

With her eyes looking up at him, her smaller hand clinging onto his, causing his breath to hitch and his heart to race—

How could he say no?

“Fine, but just for tonight. I can’t have you thinkin’ I’m goin’ soft or something.”

Johnny slipped under the covers, and without even needing to be asked, he wrapped his arms around V, and she rested her head against his chest in return.

“Get some rest, samurai… the city will still be there waiting for us when you awake.”

-

Thank ya kindly for reading! I'm always down for some constructive criticism and I love to read any lovely comments about my fics. Do let me know if there are any mistakes, I don't have a beta reader for Cyberpunk just yet, so a few mistakes may have gotten away from me!

And feel free to send in asks/requests! I'm so in love with Johnny and V and I can spend hours thinking and talking about them aaaaa