#it’ll makes sense in past tense

[alekkis]

maybe you’ll remember the incandescent murmur of the pain that happened, regardless life doesn’t end or start with you, you’ve got mountains to live and oceans to fumble through, all that you need is within you, you are where you need to be, it’s hard to live point blank..

[heavenbarnes]

okay hear me out— softness and gentle topics aside, how would older bf!simon go about discussing his mom & Tommy? would it ever occur? Would it be a vulnerable and gentle discussion with sins laid on the table or would it be like pulling teeth— panic attack arises and the words are spewing.

at first I’d have headcanoned it that maybe we innocently question the clinginess but I’m not so sure anymore; feels like that would just be second nature for the two.

i’ve never ventured into this topic because it’s literally so devastating that i almost considered writing it out of canon for him- but it’s time 🫶🏼 (massive tw for family loss)

the day older bf!simon tells you about his family, it’s at breakfast.

he’d made the food and you’d made the coffee, both expertly passing each other in your kitchen until you’d settled at the table.

when he told you, you had toast hanging out your mouth.

“pardon?”

“i had a family”

you weren’t really talking about anything in particular, so you made quick mental work of skimming over your conversation until you found where this was coming from.

sunny outside, nice day, should go to the farmers market, get groceries, it’ll be crowded, family day-

i had a family

had.

oh.

your heart had start to speed up in your chest and part of you was scared simon’s military precision hearing would be able to tell.

judging by the look on his face, distant, quiet- he couldn’t hear the thrumming against your sternum.

you were thankful, it meant he kept speaking.

“my mum and my brother, tommy- he had a missus too and a kid”

had.

oh god.

he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze drifted out the window and onto the birds that were floating over the fruit tree in the backyard.

you couldn’t say there was much of you to look at, a hardline of your mouth and eyes that were willing themselves not to water.

“they weren’t in a good way- but i helped them get better”

the corners of your lips quirked reflexively but it fell away just as quickly, unable to escape the voice in the back of your head that kept saying the same thing.

had.

why is every thing in the past tense?

probably for the same reason this is the first time you’re hearing this story. when is the right time to get to this part?

the moment he cuts the rope, lets you down from where he’s had you hanging- you wish you could react in any other way.

instead, your mouth hangs open while your hand does its best to cover it.

the toast goes cold, so does the coffee.

the tears break through of their own accord.

and he still won’t look at you.

“oh, simon”

your mind races in a way you’ve never felt before, thoughts you’d never had before rising to the surface.

first, you want to hurt someone, anyone- whoever you can blame for doing this to simon.

(you quickly realise he’s probably already done that)

second, you want to take him by the shoulders and tell him that this was never his fault.

that there was nothing he did or could’ve done to deserve this.

and you’re sure that there’s layers to his job and things he’s done and seen that’d make him think that cannot be true.

but you don’t care- there is no human alive that could ever deserve what you’ve just been told.

you don’t care.

you love him.

third, you start to make sense of some of simon’s behaviours.

the way he calls your name when you’re at the other end of the house, just to know where you are.

the way you can turn around at any given moment and find him closer than your shadow.

the way he calls you on deployment only to hear you tell him you love him and you’re still home waiting.

the way he cannot exist without a hand on you, without knowing where you are, without knowing you’re still his.

and there you go again, wanting to hurt whoever put him in this position.

grateful to be able to love him how he needs but angry- blind rage in knowing what he went through to get to this point.

it’s why you’re out of your seat and wrapping your arms around his shoulders the minute you hear even a sniff.

you let him ruin your shirt with tears as strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you so close into him you wouldn’t be at all surprised if the particles shifted just enough for you to become one.

as if you weren’t already.

you’d never, never ever, questioned simon’s ever present need to be close. you’d come to accept it, enjoy it, miss it when he was gone.

it was never overbearing, never out of line, always right when you needed it.

reminding you that he was there.

that he loved you.

that he needed you.

just as much as you needed him.

and god, did he need to be needed.

did he need you to pass him the pickle jar (even when you could open it just fine)

did he need you to make him take the rubbish out (when you could do it yourself)

did he need you to call him when the car was making a funny sound (when you knew it was the fan belt)

did you need him to pull you into his lap at the end of a long day and rest his lips against the crown of your head as he rubbed slow circles into your back.

like you were doing for him now.

“simon, i just need you to know- i’m not going anywhere”

you made it to the farmer’s market, eventually. it was crowded, meaning simon’s arm never let your waist.

not that you mind.

not that you ever mind.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A week passes in a tense slog. Barrett continues his pandering penance and you wallow in irritation. You want to put it behind you. You want to get past it but every time you do, it just happens again.

If this was the first time, it would be easy but you’ve lost count of all the times you’ve had this fight. 

Your menial office work does little to distract. It only allows you to think about all the bullshit. The way Barrett dismisses everything you do and has to list of everything you don’t. The way he can’t see his own flaws or how you’ve never once rubbed his nose in them like a dog.  

Is it passive or weak or just acceptance? You can’t say. You just always put up with it.  It’s just easier not to make an issue of every little thing. Problem is, now it’s a big thing. 

When you come home, you’re worn out but you still have work to do. Dishes, tidying, cooking. Even your weekends don’t allow you must rest. You need to sort through the bills and go get groceries. All along the way, he’s in the way. You’re not sure he’s trying to help, more so trying to force his way to forgiveness. 

You grab a bundle of reusable shopping bags from the cupboard overflowing with them. It only took about a hundred of the things to start remembering to take them with you.  

As you shut the cupboard, Barrett’s on the other side of the oven. Watching and waiting. He’d be a lot more help if you didn’t have to tell him what to do. You forgot a mug and to him, that’s high crime, but he can’t remember to pay the power bill without six texts on the due date. 

“So... what’s going on today?” He smiles. 

It used to be that that smile made you melt. It would make all your troubles flutter away like butterflies. Now it’s just another irk. 

“Groceries.” You wave the fistful of bags. 

“Oh, cool, want me to come?” 

You nearly scoff. Every weekend you ask and every weekend he’s too busy. His pals want him to jam in their garage band or go fishing down at some dirty river. Another tick on the wrong side of the Pros-Cons list. 

“Sure,” you shrug. It’s easier to just let him come along. You don’t need another argument and you could use the extra hands. 

You shove the bags into the folded shopping cart and put your shoes on. He toddles behind like a lost child. You’re repress a glare as you grab your keys and purse. You’re going to have to talk this out sooner than later our you’re really going to hate him. 

He follows you out to the bus stop and you wait in silence. You had a car but it broke down last year. Ever since, he gets a ride off his coworkers or friends and you flash your bus pass. It’s cheaper than leasing a car, even a used one. 

You don’t know what stresses you out more; thinking about all the stuff he does or just thinking about your life. You get on the bus and sit near the back. He reaches over to grab your hand. You wince but don’t pull away. 

“Nice day,” he says. 

“Mhmm,” you grumble. 

His attempt at small talk doesn’t go much further. You get off at your stop and walk the block to the grocery store. You unfold your shopping cart and pull out your list. Barrett grabs a bag of gummy bears and dumps them in the cart. 

“Those aren’t on the list,” you say. 

“I know but it’ll be a nice treat for later. We’ll have some tonight after dinner.” 

“Oh, alright.” 

You factor in the extra cost and mentally cross off the avocado from the list. You can go without. You roll through the produce section and work your way down the list. Barrett trails behind you. 

You stop in the cereal aisle to grab a bag of oatmeal. As you stand, you flinch and cry out at a surprise peck on your cheek. Barrett puts his arm around your shoulder as he presses his lips against you. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. 

“Baby, giving you a kiss.” You look at him and he grins, “I miss you. I love you. I’m tryna be better, honey.” 

“In the grocery store?” You challenge. 

“It’s cute.” 

“Mm, it’s... let’s wait ‘til we get outta here. It’s starting to get busy.” You glance around at the other customers, hoping none of them noticed his little act. “How about you go grab some drumsticks? Flyer says they’re on sale.” 

“Oh, I can do that. Be right back!” He proclaims. 

He shuffles off and you shake your head and turn back to the shelves. The store brand on discount is all out. You hiss in disappointment. You search the rest of the selection. That’s the cheapest on the shelf and you really can’t stretch the extra dollar. 

You look up at the overstock along the top. It’s right up there but you’re just too short to reach. You give a poor attempt then stand flat on your feet. You peer up and down the aisle. You could find an employee. 

“Need some help?”  

You turn to face the stranger and give a start. They aren’t so strange after all. You know him. Well, not know-know him. Everyone in the city knows Steve Rogers, the Captain America. 

“Uhhh...” 

“What’s your brand?” He asks. “They don’t run restock until before closing. I usually come then, less busy but I got... ha, sorry, I’m rambling. What can I grab for you?” 

You lick your dry lips and glance at the shelf. You appreciate the help but telling Captain America that you need the cheapest bag on the shelf isn’t exactly dignified. You point to the price tag on the shelf and he reaches on his toes to grab the edge of the box on the top. He wiggles out a bag and stands flat. 

“Here,” he offers it with a handsome smile. “You know, it’s made at the same factory as the regular brand.” He taps the back of the bag, “exact same address. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re from the same lot.” 

“Oh, well, er... thanks,” you take the oats and put them in your cart. 

“No problem. Sometimes being a hero isn’t very glorious. Sometimes it’s just reaching the top shelf.” 

You force a chuckle. You’re sure the Cap’s life is all sunshine and rainbows. Must be a real ego boost to help the little people. 

“Well, I appreciate it, Captain.” 

“Steve,” he smirks and stares. Your lower your brows and look behind you. Is he looking at someone else? 

“Oh, of course. I should go find my husband.” You roll around him and try to shake off the awkward encounter. You look down at your list as you stop at the end of the aisle. 

“Hope he’s not lost...” Steve calls after you. He says your name and you crane to look at him. You meet his gaze and blanch. He turns and struts off without another word. 

You turn back to your path and slowly leave the aisle. How did he know your name? You replay the interaction and try to recall giving it but you can’t. Well, you’re not exactly thinking straight right now. It’s nothing. You’re just stressed. 

[angel5ofp0rn]

♡ part eight ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

just a short lil chapter 🤭

John didn’t sleep at all.

Still, when the morning sun started to peek through the blinds, he got up from the couch and made his way to the kitchen.

He couldn’t eat, but he knew he had to make sure you and the kids did.

After making eggs, bacon and toast, John sets the table and then heads upstairs to his your oldest child’s bedroom to wake him.

The sight of you sleeping in the twin bed with both children snuggled up to you made his heart ache.

Your tear-streaked cheeks and their blissfully unaware sleeping faces made John want to cry.

You woke slowly, rubbing your puffy eyes and lifting your head to see John in the doorway. You sigh.

“I, erm... Breakfast." John spoke softly. You nod, slowly rubbing your oldest’s back to wake him, telling him to get ready for school before he eats.

John watches for a moment as your oldest sleepily trudges to the washroom.

You scoop your sleepy youngest child up and walk past John, going downstairs to the kitchen without a word to him.

John knows there’s no point in trying to smooth things over just yet. Instead, he decides to get a shower in while you and the kids have breakfast together. Without him.

You try to smile and be happy around the kids, not wanting them to sense the tension between you and their father right now.

They seem to be oblivious to it all, thankfully.

As you playfully ruffle your oldest’s brown hair as he eats, you can't help but wonder if John's other son looks like him.

Like both of them.

Your children look just like John; surely his other child does too…

John joins the three of you in the kitchen after a while, but he doesn’t say anything to you. He doesn’t even look at you.

“Could you walk Gabe to the bus stop? It’ll be here in 5.” You ask suddenly, finally catching his eyes.

“Of course.” John nods curtly, taking the little green backpack from the back of one of the chairs. As he walks with your oldest, you send your youngest off to the playroom so you can chat with John privately.

You meet him by the front door, arms crossed, almost hugging yourself for comfort.

“What’re their names?” You ask bluntly.

John is caught a little off guard by your question, not expecting you to ask about his other family right now. He wasn’t expecting anything other than you kicking him out, really.

He studies your eyes for a moment, then nods as he responds.

"My son's name is Theo. His mother's name is Nadia."

You exhale a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The way he says “my son” so naturally makes your stomach drop.

"Show me a picture of him." Your voice is shaky.

"Of Theo?" John asks, surprised. At your nod, he takes his phone out of his pocket, finds a photo and hands his phone to you.

Your eyes study the photo of a ten year old holding up a lego creation that he presumably built himself.

He looked exactly how you pictured him to look; John’s brown hair, John’s blue eyes, John’s freckled nose.

You start to cry again.

John notices you crying, immediately wanting to be there to comfort you but he knows that he shouldn't make a move now, not when things are so tense between both of you. He stays put where he is, just watching you cry for a few moments before speaking."Is.... Is there anything else you want to know? I’ll tell you everything, love.”

"Do they know about us?” You ask, handing him his phone back with a sniffle. “About me, the kids...?”

John pauses for a moment before he responds. He feels like he needs to be honest with you about this; he's kept so much hidden for the last six years, but he doesn't want to keep anything else from you.

That being said, he knew his next few words might hurt to hear.

“They do… I show Theo photos of the kids every time I see ‘im.”

You wipe your eyes with your sleeve. "So you could tell them but not us?”

John has no words, no way to defend himself in this situation. There was no excuse for it either, he knew that. He just takes a breath in and out, then stays silent as he simply nods.

You sigh.

"What was your plan, John?" You wiped more tears. “To just keep both of your families from each other for the rest of your life?"

"No." John answers, his tone soft but clear. "I- I’ve always wanted to tell you. I just couldn't stand the thought of you hurting... I didn't want to lose you."

"And then you did lose me. And you still didn't say a fucking word."

John's expression was full of regret, but he knows that he can't change the past, no matter how much he wishes he could.

"I know that. I just- Christ, I don't want to lose you again. I couldn't have just let us get back together without solving the issue that ripped us apart on the first place, love. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”

You didn't speak. You couldn't.

John sighs, rubbing his face and shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry..." That's all he says because right now he feels as though any other words would hurt more than they would help. He wanted to speak, to say more, but he just couldn't bring himself to.

'..l want to meet them." You finally look up at him, meeting his eyes.

"... You want to meet them..?" John asks back in a soft, shaky voice. He can't help but be a little shocked by your response.

Maybe it's because he expected that you would ask him to never see his family ever again, or to never see you and your children ever again…

"The kids, too. Gabriel and Linnie have a big brother; I want them to know him."

John studies your face as if he’s waiting for you to retract your request.

"Gabriel's spring break is in two months. You're taking us to the London and we're meeting them." You don't ask, you’re telling him.

"Alright... I said I’d do anything and I meant it." John nods as a small look of relief crosses his face. He thinks about speaking again, but decides against it, as he just takes a small breath in and out.

"I should probably get some work done." You glance at the clock on the wall.

He nods. "I'll… see you after work, then...?"

“I’m just gonna be upstairs in my office.” You explain. You can practically see the gears turning in his head.

You’re not kicking him out.

“Lovey, what’re you saying?”

“You’ll be sleeping on the couch until further notice.” You continue. “And… you’ll be making breakfast every morning from now on." Your lips twitch into the tiniest smirk.

"Oh?" John smiles a tiny bit as well. "I... I can do that. I’ll do anything- everything.” John pulls you into a hug.

"I’ve gotta get to work.” You gently push him off of you with a small chuckle. “Go check on Linnie.”

You wanted to keep being mad at him, but you couldn’t... He knew what he had to do in order to fix your relationship, and he's doing it.

He has you. Fuck, does he have you.

<< prev next >>

[aweina]

୨୧. honest eyes — mortal kombat one. kameos : raiden. johnny cage + kenshi takahashi & liu kang

when you stare at their hands for too long.

raiden was confused at first. he was not dreaming, right? he knew his small crush on you could make him overthink certain interactions, but the more he quietly observed you, he realized that your mindless staring was in fact, reality. coming into terms with this realization was hard for raiden, dissecting every possible outcome as to why your unreadable gaze seemed so glued to him. ignoring this dilemma sounds more unnerving, offering him temporary peace, and so he did. but only then the limelight that you unintentionally showered over him the past few days left him flustered and somewhat clumsy. it only began to worsen when he caught your intense gaze on his quivering hands, the warm tea swishing around the small ceramic cup. silence fell between the two of you, with raiden watching your eyes drag over the fine details of his hands — rough from working in the fields yet gentle with anything he touched. “what’s so particular about my hands that you seem to like so much?” it took a bit of courage to ask, but he was pleased to see you gaze away nervously, sputter something incoherent, just like he would with you. maybe his crush wasn’t actually one-sided all along.

johnny never seemed to notice your blatant staring, or so you thought. under the foggy lenses and his humorous exterior, his was incredibly sharp when it came to observing his surroundings — particularly you drooling over the sight of his hands. after making such a huge discovery, he has been absolutely insufferable and loud. the flirty little comments you’ve received became much bolder, he was more expressive with his hands — pointing things directly by your face and “casually” articulating them around every time he talked. he would even exaggeratedly stretch out his limbs as his ring gleaming under a nonexistent light — the wolf whistle was the cherry on top. despite all his teasing gestures, you still gazed hungrily over the callouses and subtle veins that swelled over his skin. with his strong fingers dancing along your knee, you try to keep his movement still, tracing over his hands carefully once he complied. “take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he snickers at his own joke, but this was his idea after all. next time, he’ll make sure to get a few angles saved in his camera roll.

kenshi has always been particularly tense when it came to unwanted attention. that’s why he instantly felt your lingering gaze — like he had a sixth sense. but confusion dawned upon him. what were you staring at? he learned to be cautious about his appearance, hiding his troubling past under long sleeve shirts and keeping a calm demeanor to not scare off others. yet you constantly assured him that his former affiliation with the yakuza didn’t bother you. it’s when he’s eating idly in the dinning hall of the academy, kenshi felt your unwavering eyes on him again. this time he followed the tilt of your head, noticing a blush on your blank features, and finally stopping at his rough tattooed hands. he’s heard of this before, a hand fetish? kenshi smirks knowingly, placing his utensils on the table as he raises a hand over your hard gaze. “if you wanted to look, you should’ve just asked.” he teases with a smile, lowering his hand to let let your fingertips ghost over his inked skin — something that he would never let anyone else do.

liu kang did not need his divine intuition to notice your unwavering eyes — it was quite obvious and rather amusing. when he crafted this new timeline, he never suspected that you would ever see him in a certain light. although he usually wears hand wraps on a daily basis, there are rare occasions when he would rather continue his routine without a tight fit pressing fine lines onto his skin. with your curious presence sifting through the halls of the fire temple, liu kang feels it’s only natural to shred off the one thing that taunts your prying gaze. your subtle reactions to his rare exposure never failed to make him smile. now, you sit alongside the fire god in a daze — mesmerized by the veins and small cuts that decorated his hands. liu kang gently held your smaller hand, applying a soothing balm over your healing cut. his glowing eyes flicker to your lingering stare, openly gawking at his hands and periodically, dragging along his inked muscles. that’s when he suddenly broke out laughing, breaking you out of a trance. “your gaze never seems to falter, huh?” he keeps a firm grip on your hand when you try to flee away, basking in your flustered eyes.

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

[navybrat817]

The Dad Diaries: Grief

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky explains grief to Jamie as best as he can when you need a minute to yourself. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, touch of fluff, grief, loss of a friend, reflecting, talk of death, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Another part to the The Dad Diaries . Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky could hear your cries before he reached the bedroom, the sound causing a lump to form in his throat. He could picture you hastily wiping at your face when he knocked. You were in pain and it hurt him to know you were hurting. The worst part was that it wasn’t the kind of pain he could fix by patching it up. It was the kind of hurt that lingered beneath the surface before it clawed its way out.

Grief.

“Do you need anything, doll?” He asked.

“Just give me a minute, please!” You called out, your voice close to sounding like your normal self. You were trying your best to be strong when what you needed was a moment to break. People didn’t realize the weight of the things they carried until they buckled under them.

And you didn’t need to be strong all the time.

“Mama?” Jamie asked, reaching a hand out toward the door.

Bucky kissed the top of his head. “Mama needs a minute,” he whispered before he held him against his chest. He hoped his smell and steady heart beat soothed him. “She’ll snuggle up with you soon, okay?”

If anything could make you feel better apart from being in his arms, it was having your son nuzzle against you.

Jamie made a small sound, his lower lip trembling. “Mama,” he said again.

Bucky didn’t take it to heart that his son wanted you. He understood that there were days when he’d want his dad and other days he’d want his mom and times when he’d want both of you. If anything, he felt proud that his son wanted to go to you. Maybe he sensed that you needed support and love.

“I know you want your mama,” he said, carrying him back to the living room. “But you are stuck with me for another minute.”

Jamie moved his head, his eyes set in a stubborn stare. He looked so much like you at that moment, demanding with a look to know what was the matter and how to fix it. What could he say?

“Jamie, you know how you have your Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam and Aunt Nat and everyone else?” He asked, a sad smile touching his lips at the happy look in his little boy’s eyes at the mention of his friends. He wanted his child to hold onto that innocence for as long as he could. “Well, your mama had a friend who was going to be like an aunt to you, too.”

Was. Past tense. Because your friend recently passed away. You wondered if she knew how important she was to you. If she knew how she impacted your life. She was too young in your eyes to go. Still had so many things she wanted to do. While death is fair in that it comes for everyone, it doesn’t always feel fair when someone you care for is taken away too soon.

The one thing you were thankful for was that she was no longer in pain.

“Mama’s friend, your aunt, isn’t here anymore. She misses her and she’s sad that she’s gone.”

“Mama sad?” Jamie repeated, his eyes wide.

“Yeah, Nugget. She’s very sad. Grieving. And grief is… so many things,” Bucky explained, swallowing a bit as he felt a crack in his heart. “It’s loss and mourning. It’s love that you carry inside and it no longer has a place to go.”

Jamie gazed at him, soaking up every word. His son was too young to hear something like this. Too precious. But if life taught him anything, it’s that it was too short and there was no guarantee of tomorrow.

“Some days the grief comes out of nowhere. You never really know when it’ll happen or why. You may hear a song you’ve heard dozens of times before or catch a scent of something familiar and it triggers a memory or feeling,” he told him, kissing his forehead again because he needed to ground himself. “You think you’re fine and then you fall apart.”

That was exactly what had happened a few minutes prior. You were smiling one moment as the three of you sat in the living room and the next you burst into tears before you rushed out. Bucky wished like hell he could’ve manifested your sadness into something tangible so he could snuff it out. It wasn’t his battle to fight, but he could be by your side to wipe the tears away if you let him. Or whisper words of care. Or to say nothing at all. Some didn’t always want to hear words of comfort or hope when they just needed to feel.

He would be there to give you whatever you needed or asked for.

“It’s okay to feel those feelings, Jamie. I get sad, too. There’s no timeline for healing or grieving. It takes as long as it takes. And we’re lucky in a way to feel things so strongly,” he told him. You were always understanding and patient on his off days. He more than lucked out by having you as his wife. “You know what your Uncle Vis says grief is? That it’s love persevering,” he added, bouncing him a bit to make him smile. It put a smile on his face, too. “And your mama has so much love to give.”

“So do you.”

Bucky looked toward the doorway where you stood. Bloodshot and puffy eyes, but with a small smile on your beautiful face. He wanted to hold you and remind you that you weren’t alone. “Hey,” he said as Jamie reached for you. “I think he wants to cheer you up.”

“Is that right? Well, I think a snuggle with my boys is just the thing I need,” you said as you took a seat beside Bucky and took Jamie into your arms. “Sorry I rushed off like that.”

“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered. He had plenty of moments where he needed to step away and compose himself when his thoughts got too loud. “We just want you to be okay,” he added, kissing your temple before Jamie grabbed your face.

“Mama no sad,” he said, forcing your cheeks up in a smile. The sight almost brought tears to Bucky’s eyes because it was so simple and heartfelt. “No sad.”

You giggled, a soft sound, before it erupted into full blown laughter. It soothed the crack he felt earlier in his heart. The room felt brighter, especially when Jamie joined in with the laughter. “Not sad, Nugget,” you assured him before you looked at your husband, love shining through like always. “Not anymore.”

The grief from your loss would come again in waves. Just like the days Bucky mourned the parts of his life he lost and couldn’t get back. Some days were harder than others, especially when regret and “what if’s” came to mind, but the important thing was that neither of you allowed yourselves to live alone or lose yourselves in grief. Not when there was so much to be thankful for.

You felt what you needed to feel. You asked for help and leaned on each other. And you carried on together.

Because what is grief, if not love persevering?

I lost more than one loved one recently and writing this helped me process some of the loss. We all need someone like Bucky. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Liqueur of You (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer goes down on Reader for the first time.

Request: Spencer gives fem!reader oral sex for the first time and she finishes really quickly 🤭 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Oral sex (female receiving), fingering Word Count: 1k

Spencer Reid is nothing if not a persistent lover; a scientist hellbent on studying any evidence of the divine written on your skin. His hands would gently caress every inch of your body, carefully detailing how you shivered or squirmed from his touch.

Spencer is an earnest, clever boy who wants nothing less than all of you. Even as he’s kissing you, his hands are finding new ways to worship you. He slips one past the waistband of your underwear and nearly moans at the mess he finds.

Slowly, he drags a single digit through the honeyed wetness that had gathered between your folds. His finger teases at the entrance but doesn’t go any further.

You whimper. You can feel his skin grow rough with goosebumps, but he doesn’t slow down. He runs his tongue along the column of your throat, and he can feel how it trembles as you beg him.

“Spencer, please.”

“You taste so good,” he groans before suckling at your pulse point.

Your body feels like it’s on fire. Everywhere he’s touching you is somehow too much and not enough.

“Please,” you keen again.

He listens this time. You soak in the anticipation of his touch only to feel the ultimate disappointment of its withdrawal.

Spencer’s fingers are practically dripping with your essence as he lifts them to his face. At first, you look at his hand as he inspects the evidence of your desire. But then you look at him. You gaze into brown irises set ablaze and watch how they change the second he places two soaked fingers on his tongue.

He moans as he savors the taste of you. His hips buck forward. He presses his erection hard against your hip. You almost wonder if he could get off just like that.

When he finishes cleaning his fingers, though, he returns to his worship with renewed vigor.

It’s the same as it always is, until it isn’t. The kisses he’s pressing against your breasts begin trailing south. For a moment, you are unsure. But then his tongue swirls at a point just beneath your belly button.

You suck in a sharp breath. He can feel the muscles in your stomach roll as they tense. He doesn’t stop. He keeps going, lower, and lower until he can feel the heat through flimsy cotton.

Spencer is careful as he helps remove your underwear. You wonder if you should tell him the truth—that you’ve never done this part before. That you’re worried and unsure about whether it’ll work the way he wants it to.

“Spencer,” you start with a sobering tone, “I’ve… I’ve never…”

“I know,” he says simply as he lifts one of your legs from the bed. “It’s horribly unfair.”

It’s shaking as he guides it over his shoulder. His lips curl into a cheeky smirk that makes your heart beat even harder.

Despite the twitches and trembling, Spencer senses no resistance; your legs practically fall open for him.

That creeping insecurity begins to resurface, but it is assuaged by Spencer laying tender kisses against your inner thigh.

“This is going to be easy, sweetheart,” he whispers against your skin, “just lie back and look pretty.”

“But…” you whine.

“Good girl,” he answers.

Then, before you can offer any other protest, you feel the heat of his tongue as it slides between your folds. Immediately, you are overwhelmed by his new form of worship. There is no hesitancy as he laps at the liqueur of you.

Your hands thread through his hair and grab hold of him like he is the only thing keeping you tethered. You pull, gently at first.

Spencer’s nails dig into the pliable skin of your thigh. While your legs apply crushing force to try and bring him closer, he remains adamant in holding you exactly where he wants you.

While his tongue toys at your entrance, seemingly savoring each drop from a never-ending pool of desire, you are left dumb and defenseless. Whimpers flow from your lips. Your whole body is trembling, but you try your hardest to heed his orders.

You hold yourself back… until Spencer decides that your shyness, while endearing, just won’t do.

You try to keep track of his hands as they stray from their place. Your legs close against his ears, and you can feel his moans as they reverberate through you.

One of Spencer’s hands joined his tongue before replacing it entirely. You feel the tension building in your stomach at the same time another hand presses hard against the midpoint between your hips.

Just as two lithe fingers press into you, his tongue presses flat against the pearl at your crest.

Immediately, the ever-growing euphoria comes to a breaking point. You choke on a scream, but still manage to sob as every muscle in your body tenses. Your heels dig into his shoulder blades and your thighs quiver as they close around his head.

Spencer seems unfazed. Instead of stopping, like you’d expected him to, he closes his lips around that sensitive nub and continues. Without air, he suckles your clit like it could sustain him all the same.

He pays no mind to the way you are falling apart. His fingers pump into pulsing muscles and he continues to hum sounds of pleasure against you. He doesn’t stop until your body falls limp.

It is then that he pulls away, ever-so-slightly. His touch becomes gentle and less insistent. Eventually, he sighs against heated skin. The contrast makes you shiver.

“That was…” you start, but he stops you.

“I’m not finished yet,” he mumbles against the newly soaked skin between your legs.

He looks up at you with a wicked grin reflected in his eyes. His hair is knotted around your fingers and his face glistens with the mess you’ve made.

It isn’t enough for him. Lazily, he kisses every inch of you that he can reach before he draws his tongue through your folds. He makes a point to circle your most sensitive point once more before he speaks again.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

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[a-boca-do-inferno]

blueberry (caesar x human!reader)

summary: Man is insecure and, perhaps not so surprisingly, so are apes.

warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

words: 3.6k

notes: can be read as a standalone or a continuation to alone. this is set somewhere between the events of wftpota but he is alive in my heart btw. enjoy x

gif credit

“I don’t care”, you sign and huff, glaring at him. You needed to hurt him; like he had hurt you just now. You point to the cave entrance. “Leave.” 

Caesar shoots you a desolated look, standing in the middle of the rain, completely soaked. He can’t speak. Not this time. He’d done it so many times before, repeating the same thing over and over again. I will change. I will stop worrying. I love you. And now you could see the truth: no matter how much he claimed to love you, his sorrows would always be stronger than his feelings and you just had enough. You were a tired woman. And he knew that, too. 

“Okay”, he mumbles at last with a brief sign as he watches his step and backs away. 

He leaves with his head down and disappears into the dark of the night. You’re only left with the sound of heavy drops smashing onto the floor. The ground now felt like opening up under your feet, but it wasn’t always like this. 

Caesar stared at you with widened eyes, not noticing your presence until you spoke up. A smile spread on his face and he shrugged off his worries, his frown fading gradually. “You… lifesaver.” He gesticulated toward the food you carried with a grateful look. It smelled so good and he didn’t hesitate to grab the bowl of soup, sipping on it and letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank you... for everything”, he signed with his free hand after a moment.

“You’re welcome, now what do you want?” You teased and ruffled his head lightly. Caesar had become a good friend over the past few months. It felt like you’ve known each other for a long time, even before the flu. “Or were you just that hungry?”

Caesar snorted, still drinking the soup. “Both… I think.” He swallowed before adding hoarsely, “sometimes I just need… to see you.” It sounded like a lighthearted comment, but he wasn’t smiling because deep down he knew it was true. You made him feel like he never did with anyone, ape or otherwise. He recoiled in his spot, watching you with attentive eyes. 

And you, to your credit, chuckled quietly with pink cheeks, “well, here I am.” You sat in front of him and leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “You know, Caesar, I’ve been thinking… Maybe you should come stay with me for a while.” 

You were well aware of his problem with loneliness ever since he lost Cornelia and couldn’t help but want to take care of him. Being a leader had its perks and many included a deep sense of isolation, especially when the very lives of a whole species depended on him to make it in this world. Humans were still a constant threat, even amidst the downfall of civilization, but you reckoned Caesar felt lonely long before the apocalypse from the few stories he’d tell you about Will. If anything, being surrounded by his own kind only alienated him more overtime due to the burden of the “crown”.

Caesar tensed up, his eyebrows raising at the unexpected offer. He stayed unmoving for a few seconds, however his demeanor eventually changed into one of contemplation. Perhaps it wasn’t such a terrible idea at all. He’d been greatly feeling the change in environment since they moved and doing things alone had always proven to be harder for him, if more familiar. Taking another sip of his soup, his thoughtful gaze traveled the ceiling. 

“Sure… you wanna live… with my drama?” He finally asked, with an almost amused expression.

“We can be dramatic together”, came the quick reply, as you carried a playful tone of your own. “But really, I think it’ll do you some good. It’s not permanent, I just wanna help you get a little more time to adjust while you sort things out with the council.” You grinned softly, “change is always overwhelming and some company might broaden your horizons, maybe even help with your decision.”

Caesar pondered your words, still with a humorous smile. “I could stay… for a while.” He added with some emphasis. 

“It’s settled then, you can move in anytime you want”, you stood up and patted his shoulder. As you noticed there was a hint of uneasiness lingering in his eyes, you hummed, “consider it my formal thanks to you for taking me in. Now we’re even.”

“Then I move in… tonight.”, he tried to play it off with humor, signing with a smirk. “Don’t like my place… anyways.”

In fact, deep down Caesar was glad to get away from there; especially because he was about to face the most challenging phase of leadership: letting go. By the end of the day, he was all settled into your home. He took your bed under your indignant protests that the floor was a “back killer”, in your own words. You had a way of making him sustain a smile for far longer than he was used to—which wasn’t often—and that was the sole reason for his compliance. 

As you were fluffing the makeshift pillows made out of animal skin, he organized his stuff in the small cabinet you made yourself. You were a handy carpenter. A quiet chuckle reached his ears and he shot you a glance. 

“I didn’t take you for the messy type, I thought all leaders were neat.”

Caesar rolled his eyes, closing the cabinet door. “I only clean… other people’s messes”, he signed with a wry smile. He turned around and leaned against the wall to face you properly, his grin fading into a sterner look. “I’m glad… you’re here.”

“And I’m glad you’re here with me, that way I don’t have to worry about your insomniac ass wandering in the cold”, you threw a stick at him, sitting on the bed with a small beam. “I really do worry and care for you, Caesar. I hope you know that.”

Caesar caught the stick with ease and met your gaze with warm eyes once again. He was clearly touched by your words and his shy grin turned into a real one, despite the tiredness on his features. He came over to sit beside you, much closer than before. 

“I know”, he replied huskily, gently caressing the nape of your neck with his thumb. “And I hope you know… I care about you.” You shivered under his touch and your lips reached for his rough palm as you kissed it. His breath hitched at the sensation of your smooth skin and he touched your foreheads, shutting his eyes.

It was now but a distant, bittersweet memory haunting you while you gathered your things and left your tent-like home with him, preparing to move in with Maurice. You had a close bond with the ginger ape due to his calmer nature; sometimes you even assisted in his classes, too, and he knew better than anyone about the shortcomings of your relationship with Caesar. This time was no different and he offered you shelter right away. He had always been supportive of you two, but never judging when you had a falling out with the boss.

Maurice knew better than anyone as Caesar got older, his stubbornness and overprotective nature only got bigger. You left out a humourless laugh, walking into your new home. Man is insecure and perhaps not so surprisingly, so are apes. And with insecurity comes obsession, along with an unhealthy need for control. Yet you always had too much understanding in your heart. Caesar just needed help, you thought, as you would peck his head whilst he slept soundly on your lap. It was so rare to see him that serene, and you cherished every second of it. 

He still had trouble sleeping; nightmares and such. Your heart ached with the ever present reminder that you just couldn’t make all his pain go away forever, no matter how hard you tried. And God, did you try. Rocking a grown chimpanzee’s body to make him go to sleep wasn’t exactly in your plans when he brought you into the colony, but you gladly took the task. You loved the guy, after all. 

And wouldn’t it be stupid to even doubt that? Still, that’s what Caesar did on occasion. He wasn’t easily upset, but when he was... It often got ugly. You were never a fearful girl, but seeing his angry fits deeply affected you. Soon talking to him became a constant walk on eggshells and if he noticed your change in behavior, he never really spoke on it, which was perhaps his biggest flaw; not communicating. But he was a leader, and a perceptive one at that. Even though he never said it out loud, it must have been clear that you couldn’t take it anymore. There was something telling about the way he simply let you go a few hours before, with no fight. 

“Comfortable?” Maurice eyes you carefully, bringing some blueberries with him to cheer you up. 

You can’t help but grin at the sight. “I am. Thank you.” You sign back and nod, taking a deep breath as you gaze around. “Caesar?” You hum, curious of where he might be. You hadn’t seen him since last night’s argument.

The orangutan shakes his head slowly, pointing at the forest, “he hunts… when angry.”

You snort. “Sounds about right.”

Maurice grunts in agreement, signing softly, “you two… end?”

You take a moment to consider his question. It looked like a break up, didn’t it? Although you weren’t sure if apes even used the concept of “breaking up” with their mates. Every couple you knew in the colony seemed happy together. No trouble in paradise. You shrug and look down. “Maybe.”

“Caesar is… difficult”, he rasps, causing you to smile despite yourself. That’s the understatement of the year. The ape adds, “you like blueberries… for a reason. They’re not… always sweet.”

You scoff at the comparison. No wonder Maurice was a great teacher. You sign with amusement, “except I can smash a blueberry if I don’t like it, but with Caesar, I can’t.”

Maurice laughs deeply. “Fair enough.”

As the night fell again, you watched the apes gather around the fire to hang out after another tranquil day from a distance. Since the war, things were slowly returning to normal and you felt a mixture of relief and anxiety every time the thought crossed your mind; growing accustomed to peace those days was dangerous. Hope could be a friend, but also a great enemy in the apocalypse. Caesar had taught you that through your many late night talks after you made love. A light blush came across your cheeks as you sighed and tried to shake off those memories. 

Dating another species was already a challenge on its own, now add being the leader of a colony on top of that, you were surprised you two had made it that far. When Caesar found you all alone hiding in a cave, struggling to survive on your own, never in a million years did you think that creature would become your closest friend and even lover. He didn’t like or didn’t see the point of those nomenclatures, sure, as he only ever referred to you as his family. If other apes outside Maurice and Blue Eyes knew about the implications of it, though, no one dared speak on it. Yet it didn’t make it any easier to digest whenever you stopped to think about it, even more so amidst his angry fits.

You finished preparing for bed and lay down in silence, staring at the stars. Another summer had begun with the difference of Caesar’s absence by your side as you tried to sleep. You took a deep breath and wiped away some stubborn tears, turning to face the wall. You closed your eyes for a brief second and when you opened them again, a large silhouette appeared on the stone surface and you slowly shifted back to find Caesar standing tall, eyeing you silently.

“Talk?” He signs hesitantly, his expression difficult to read in the dark. You only nod and he approaches you, and as he steps in an angle under the moonlight, you see he’s got a deep cut across his abdomen. You immediately sit up, looking alert. He smiles weakly and waves a dismissive hand, taking a seat beside you. “It’s… fine. Not… serious.”

You frown nevertheless, tracing his bruise and inspecting it. “What happened?”

“Bear.” He murmurs hoarsely, with an amused gleam in his green eyes. You grunt in displeasure and he asks with an almost mocking tone, “worry?”

“Of course I do, Caesar.” You huff indignantly and it only makes him smirk, but you keep glaring at him. “You think it’s funny?”

“Yes”, he says, reaching you to take your hand over his furry stomach. He comes closer, bringing his forehead to yours, “I’m… sorry.” You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’re not sure what to say, but he fills in the silence with a low sound, “miss… you.”

“You’re a stubborn old man”, you pull away to look him in the eye, albeit your voice stays tender. He looks humoured by your choice of words. “But I missed you too.”

Caesar’s expression softens significatively. He produces another coo, “forgive?”

You smile and bring his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles. “Maybe.”

“Brought… present.” He rumbles after a moment and you watch him leave in silence, coming back shortly with a bowl full of blueberries. You grin and Caesar hoots quietly, feeding one to you. You blush and accept the gesture, causing him to nuzzle your face gently, “Maurice… advice.”

You roll your eyes. “That turncoat.” 

Caesar only snickers and shrugs, making a face as he tries a blueberry. He signs and pushes the bowl towards you, shaking his head in comic disapproval, “sour.”

It’s your turn to laugh.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for inkwell; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Oh,” Lynn says, still frowning a little. Billy feels a brief flash of embarrassment, but mostly grief, and then pushes it aside for–later. For . . . some other time. 

He’s not–he’s– 

It’s been too long to feel the grief this sharp, he thinks, though probably it’s because of Lynn. Not, like–he doesn’t mean it’s Lynn’s fault, just . . . 

Well. He’s a dad now, and his kid is never gonna get to meet his dad, or his mom either, and Billy can’t ask them for advice or anything, or . . . 

He guesses having a kid of his own is just making him think about them a lot. That’s . . . normal, probably. Or he figures it would be, anyway. It makes sense, right? 

He tells himself that, but he still feels . . . 

He really wishes his parents could’ve met Lynn, is all. He thinks they’d have liked him too. And he hopes Lynn would’ve liked them. 

They’d have been . . . 

Billy doesn’t really know what kind of grandparents his parents would’ve been, obviously, but–but he thinks they’d have liked getting to do it. And Lynn could use more family and more people to, like, depend on and teach him stuff and all. 

They’re the only reason Billy hasn’t messed this up yet, he’s sure, so it doesn’t seem . . . fair, really, that they’re not gonna get to meet Lynn. That they’ll never . . . 

That they didn’t get to, he means. Because–past tense. Obviously. 

Maybe if he does a good enough job trying to take after them, though, it’ll almost count. 

. . . maybe. 

“Um–so, what’s first?” Billy asks, glancing back down at the food. 

“Mise en place,” Lynn says. 

“. . . huh?” Billy says, looking back to him to blink in confusion. Lynn–frowns, a little. 

“Uh,” he says. “You don’t . . . know what that is?” 

“I mean, it’s French,” Billy says. “But I don’t know why it’s French? Do you like French, because if you do I do understand, um, literally every human language so–” 

“It’s a cooking thing,” Lynn interrupts abruptly, and Billy realizes he may be overthinking things here. 

“Oh,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um–what are we ‘putting in place’, then?” 

“The ingredients,” Lynn says. “And what we need.” 

“Oh,” Billy says, a little puzzled. “But . . . we already did that?” 

“Uh–no,” Lynn says, looking uncomfortable. “You measure it all. And get the utensils and cookware ready. So it’s–more efficient. Less stopping and starting.” 

“Oh!” Billy says in surprise, then beams at him. “That’s really smart, Lynn!” 

Lynn looks embarrassed. 

“It’s just–normal,” he says stiffly, then turns away and takes a few pans off the rack of pots and pans on the wall. 

“Is it?” Billy says, peering at the cookbooks. “The recipes don’t say anything about it. And I don’t remember–um, my parents never did it, when they cooked.” Or any of his foster families either, but . . . 

He doesn’t really want to talk about them, if he doesn’t have to.

[puck-luck]

moving along | john marino

warnings: established relationship, general complaints about Jersey, minor brat!reader but it’s not part of the sex, untraditional sex in the sense that they do not have furniture, unprotected p in v, sex as means of resolving an argument i guess?, fingering (fem!receiving) (sometimes i wonder if i need to clarify that because i personally am not into fingering my man’s ass and i doubt it’ll ever make its way into my writing), reference to oral (m!receiving), eating come (so true) pairing: John Marino x fem!reader request: “Could I request John Marino smut where after he’s traded to the Devils from Pittsburgh his girl is upset about the move but when they get to New Jersey he decides the best way to handle the move is for them to christen the new apartment to make it feel like home?  Like literally no furniture has arrived yet and they’re already going at it.” wc: 2570

Pitt had been your home since John first signed his contract with the Penguins in the summer of 2019. You’d moved there with him because he asked, you two had curated a shared apartment space that you loved and considered your first real home as an adult. You were happy in Pittsburgh and John was happy with the Penguins. You hadn’t really known about the trade until it came, just ten days shy of the three year anniversary of Pitt becoming your home base, your foundation.

You knew that the NHL was a fickle business when John first joined. Injuries were abundant, trades happened more often than you thought they would, and at weird times. Hell, people lost their teeth all the time in hockey. It was a weird sport, but for three years you and John had made a place for yourself in Pitt. 

John had just signed a six year contract extension with the Penguins a year and a half ago– so, yeah, you were still in denial about leaving Pittsburgh. It just didn’t make sense and you couldn’t wrap your brain around it.

You had packed up in what seemed like lightning speed, ditched the town that you knew, and now you’re arriving in Jersey. You don’t know anyone or any places except your new apartment complex, your new home. 

You’re cranky because you’ve been in the car for six hours. Not because you hate New Jersey and everyone there for uprooting your life in a mere instant.

Obviously.

John has been a saint about the move and the trade. It’s not his first– since he was originally drafted with the Oilers, he’s been through this process before. The difference, as you’ve reminded him multiple times now, is that he never played with the Oilers. He was picked, but he went to college. Then, he went to Pitt. And Pitt, John, was home. Not New Jersey.

That’s the gist of the same argument you’ve been having with your boyfriend over the past week or so. It’s never escalated because John is patient with you and so great, but you’ve noticed the tick in his jaw when you huff and puff and tense up in his arms. You don’t want to be angry at him, of course you don’t, because you know that it’s not his fault he was traded. It’s just the way the cookie crumbles. However, his presence has been a reminder of the fact that you were so happy in Pennsylvania and you’ve been nothing but bitter about New Jersey.

And now, standing in your empty apartment with a frown on your face, John has reached his limit.

He sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck and one of your hands finds its way to his curls. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” John murmurs into your ear, another kiss adorning your neck.

You scrunch up your nose and side eye him. “Duh,” you reply. John knows that you two have been together long enough that you’d damn near follow him to the ends of the Earth, even if the end of the Earth is in New Jersey. 

Your response causes him to chuckle, kissing you again. He turns you in his arms and smiles down at you. 

You glare, pouting, but John can tell that you’re more upset than angry. It’s been a lot of change over the past few days, and even though you’ve been a little bit of a brat, your behavior has been justified. John’s heart clenches a bit when you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

It’s quite the sight– a sweet, long embrace between partners in their newest home.

At least, it’s sweet until John ruins it.

“I have an idea about how we can make this place feel a little more… homey,” John says. You know the lilt in his voice by heart, having been with him for years. 

Pulling away, you roll your eyes and making sure John sees, knowing exactly where this is headed. You play along anyway. “What’s your idea?”

John grins and whispers conspiratorially, “We need to christen the apartment. It’s not a home until it’s been christened.”

You hold back a laugh, but a smile slips through. “We don’t have a bed yet.”

“We don’t need a bed,” John says. He slides his hands down to your hips and walks forward, only stopping when your back hits the wall and he’s crowded into your space. His head dips down and he mouths over your jawline. “I can fuck you right here, against this wall.”

“Mmm, dreamy,” you quip, your hands smoothing over John’s shoulders. You tilt your head back so he has more access to your neck and he rewards you by sucking a hickey near your pulse point. “You really know how to woo a girl, Johnny.”

John’s hips press against yours and you can already feel him stirring in his pants, growing harder as he continues to suck bruises along your skin. His hands have found your waist and hold onto you desperately. His lips make their way to yours and you share a brief kiss before he pulls away. “Just want to make my girl feel better,” he says, blinking innocently at you with his beautiful brown eyes.

Oh, how you fall for those eyes over and over again.

You draw out a sigh, looking around the apartment. One of your hands returns to John’s curls and pets through them, making him wait for your response. John, patient as always, waits for your response with an attentive smile and a tiny tilt of his head. His eyes rake over your face, taking in all of the details. His thumb comes up to your chin, tilting your head up. He leans in for a kiss.

You offer your lips up willingly, letting him control the pace. When he pulls away, you relent. “I guess we can christen the apartment,” you faux-complain, like it’s a job to keep up with John and his libido. 

John growls, teeth finding your bottom lip. “Let’s see if I can convince you to be a little more enthusiastic,” he teases, sneaking his hands up your shirt and lifting it over your head. He tosses the fabric behind him. Out of sight, out of mind. 

You hadn’t worn a bra today, since all you had done was sit in the car all day, and John reaps the benefits of that fact almost immediately.

He latches onto your chest, licking over one of your nipples and pinching the other. You pull on his hair, arching your back away from the wall. Your mouth opens in a silent moan as you puff out your chest, chasing the sensation of his tongue swirling against the peak of your nipple. He switches sides, looking up at you with hooded eyes.

“Johnny,” you say, and he smiles against your skin. You bring him back up to your lips, groaning when his tongue finds its way into your mouth and makes contact with your own. 

He runs his fingers all over your body, cupping your breasts and tracing your sides. He takes a handful of your ass and squeezes, making you jump against him. His length is fully hard now, still pressing into your hips, and he breathes out a moan when you roll your hips, grinding against him. 

You tug at his t-shirt, a wrinkly old stained thing from college, and he pulls away from you just long enough to get the offending clothing over his head before reconnecting your lips.

Now, your hands are the ones roaming his body, mapping his details through feel alone. He’s always been lean, but his skin is warm against yours and he’s defined in all the right places. He’s also soft and solid and he moves with your hands, making sure you’re always touching him in some way. You place the flat of your palm against his stomach, and the other against his chest, and you can feel John’s heart beating underneath your touch.

John sinks to one knee, pulling your shorts down and kissing over your stomach as he does. He removes your shorts and your panties, leaving you bare against the wall. He holds you steady, completely unnecessarily but sweet nonetheless, helping you step out of the clothing. He kisses his way back up your body.

Pecking your lips, he runs a finger through your folds. “So wet,” he mumbles into your mouth, pride filling his tone. He brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean, then traces his tongue over yours. You can just barely taste yourself and it makes your knees a little weak. 

You lean into him, pulling him close. John works his finger back into you, pumping it slowly into and out of your entrance. It’s barely enough contact, barely fulfillment, and it isn’t long until you beg John to add another finger.

You’re scrambling, holding his bicep with a vice grip as he hikes your leg up onto his hip to give himself more access. You’re fucking against his hand, chasing the feeling of the orgasm that’s just out of reach, and it makes your eyelids flutter shut.

You moan aloud when John crooks his fingers and traces the spongy spot inside of you, teasing it. When you open your eyes, you find his trained on your face, lips parted and eyes wide. He never gets tired of seeing you like this, seeing you come apart on his hand.

“Please,” you breath out, voice cracking. You know you can come anytime, whenever you’re ready, that you don’t need permission, but you need John to give you just a little more.

“Touch your clit for me, baby,” John replies, kissing just under your earlobe.

You reach around and pet over your bundle of nerves, the contact making you clench down on his fingers. John groans at the feeling, sagging against you. You’re trapped between the wall and his warm, solid, strong body. 

“Make yourself come,” John encourages, voice soft. “Wanna see you.”

A wanton whine rips from your throat as your climax overtakes you. You arch into John as much as you can and he brings his mouth to your nipple once again, sucking harshly as the waves of your orgasm overtake you. It elongates it, makes your mind reel with pleasure, and you’re shaking in John’s arms by the time you come down.

He kisses you until you’re on solid ground again, the hand that’s not covered in your come crading your face. The other hand pushes at his shorts until they’re low enough that he can kick them away, then he does the same with his boxers. John grinds against you, his cock twitching against your oversensitive folds, but not breaching your entrance just yet.

He rubs himself against you until you pull away from his kiss and blink up at him, eyes hazy. Both of your hands find his cheeks and you smile at him, a little dopey. He returns the smile, goofy and oh, so pretty before dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“Gonna let me fuck you?” He asks, rolling his hips forward again with a bite to his bottom lip.

You nod, a quiet “please” falling from your lips. Your arms loops around his neck again and John brings his hands to your thighs, lifting you until your legs wrap around his waist.

“I’m gonna fuck you in every room of this apartment,” John promises, lining himself up with your entrance. You sink down on him as much as you can, as soon as his tip pushes into you. “Make you come over and over again, until you love our new home–” He thrusts his hips forward. “Just as much as you love me.”

“Impossible,” you reply. “Love you too much.”

John grins, a hand on your hip and the other bracing himself against the wall. “We’ll see.”

He drills into you, the sound of his hips slapping against yours filling the empty apartment. It seems to echo off the walls, surrounding you. John’s grunts and moans fill your ears, and your whimpers fill his. He bites your neck, then soothes the skin with a pass of his tongue, letting his saliva cool over your throat. It’s almost as satisfying as the weight of his hand would be.

He fills you so well, and he’s pent up, having been waiting to fuck you for hours. His favorite way to satisfy you, to make you content, is to fuck all of the negativity away and make it so your head is full of thoughts about him and the pleasure he’s giving you, nothing more and nothing less. The move was the perfect excuse to fuck you hard and fast and dirty, the way John knows you love.

As evidenced by your walls clenching down around him, the wet slick dripping from your cunt and gathering at the base of his cock. God, if he can get you to come before he does, he’ll have you lick it all off until his come paints the back of your throat.

Just the thought has him fucking you harder, faster. You’re barely able to make any noise because it’s just so good, and John relishes in the feeling of your fingernails digging into his back. Back in its favorite place, one of your hands pulls on his curls, grip so tight that his head has to follow. 

John brings both hands to the globes of your ass, leaning into you so that your back against the wall supports you both. He presses into you, fucking so deep that he swears he can feel the tip of his cock against your cervix with each thrust. 

You cry out, tensing against him as he fucks you through a second orgasm, your legs shaking around him. You’re breathless and despite the overstimulation, you’re still fucking down onto him, rolling your hips to meet every thrust. 

John ditches his other plan on a whim, burying his face in your neck and allowing his hips to stutter, his warm seed shooting off inside of you. You moan aloud at the feeling and John almost buckles, and would have if the wall behind you hadn’t been holding the both of you up. He catches his breath, his thrusts slowing as he continues to fuck his come deep inside of you, feeling the way your walls drag against his shaft. 

“So good,” you sigh as John lowers you to the floor.

He slips out of your warmth with a wince, his cock softening. His mouth waters as he watches the come slide down the inside of your thighs, a milky mixture of both of your releases.

You laugh a little at the feeling, dragging your hand over the skin to stop the flow and licking the liquid off your palm to clean yourself up. 

John groans at the sight. “Fuck, baby, don’t do that,” he complains. “I can’t go again yet.”

“Mmm,” you hum around your fingers, drawing them out of your mouth with a pop that has John wilting. You smile, sickly sweet and teasing. “Just like at home. Nice to see that a change of location doesn’t affect your refractory period.”

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 4

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: Ready for a riding lesson? 😏

Song Inspo: “Sunshine on My Shoulders” by John Denver

Word Count: 6K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, and a cliffhanger...

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 4: A Past & Future Thing

You gasped and gripped even tighter with your thighs. With almost everything you had.

You were still far too unsteady for comfort on this damn horse. The poor animal whinnied, tossing his head back with a huff. Unfortunately, that just made you tense up even more as you held onto his neck. 

Beau tried not to laugh. You looked like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.

“Okay, you needa relax a little,” he said. “He ain’t gonna buck you, long as you don’t give him a reason to.”

You shot him a narrowed look. He was sitting all calm and natural on his own horse, a chestnut brown beauty of a stud. Apparently, his name was Clyde. You were riding his brother Dale, who was supposed to be the older, gentler of the two.

Beau was right next to you, since he was the one holding the reins. You two were still just a little way off from the stable as he guided your horse with his, letting you just get a feel for the ride.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that animals can sense our vibes,” he said, giving you a look that tipped his Stetson forward. “So if you just take a few deep breaths, I promise you, it’ll get easier.”

You met Beau’s gaze. You didn’t know if it was the smooth, steady tone of his voice or the sincerity in his eyes, but you did as he advised. You made the effort of exhaling slowly, and you began to relax.

“Okay,” he nodded with a smile. Then he gestured ahead. “Now, look forward for me. Try not to look at his hooves, though I know they’re pretty.”

He teased a smile out of you as you did what he said, casting your gaze up ahead to the horizon. It was a beautiful day. A wide expanse of terrain laid out ahead of you, with green grass mottled with some brown, and a weather-beaten trail clearly carved by horses and lessons given.  

“And like I told you,” he added, “Try not to squeeze so hard with your legs, or he’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.” 

You blushed, and relaxed your thighs enough so you were just supporting yourself on the horse, not giving yourself a leg cramp. 

“Okay, I think you’re ready for me to let go. Wanna keep going on your own?” Beau suggested. 

You were wary, but you tentatively nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

“Are you sure?” Beau asked. Again, his eyes met yours. “I’ll keep guiding you the whole way if you want. Either way, I’ve gotcha.”

You swallowed down a bit of nerves. “Yeah?”

He smiled, and you noticed how it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Trust me,” he said. “You’re not gonna fall on my watch.”

Warmth coiled its way around your heart. You let out another deep breath, and you agreed to have him hand over the reins to you. You were nervous at first, but Beau reminded you of how to guide Dale with subtle movements.

The old horse plodded forward without incident. When you gave Beau a triumphant look, that answering grin of his warmed you down to your toes. The two of you rode together more as companions while making your way across the grassy plain.

“So of all the things, why’d you wanna learn to ride a horse?” Beau asked.

“Because it terrified me,” you replied honestly. “I love animals, don’t get me wrong. Riding one though? They’re unpredictable…but I’m also tired of being afraid of what I can’t control.”

Beau nodded. He could certainly understand that.

Together, you traveled up a roaming hill. Once you reached the peak, you marveled at the view. The afternoon sun was bright and golden above the mountains and the distant line of trees.

Meanwhile, Beau glanced at you. You’d gotten more confident and comfortable in what you were doing, and it was endearing to see. You were cute, he could admit. Beautiful, as a matter of fact. You had the sun shining in your eyes, and on your hair getting tousled by the chilly breeze.

You also seemed to have a kind heart. He’d seen it in just how hard your friend’s death had hit you. He saw it again when he helped you move into your apartment. He saw the joy you took in cooking dinner for all of them after a long-ass day, even though you could’ve just ordered a pizza.

It was the little things, he thought, and the more he saw of you, the more he liked.

That thought also made his heart twinge, and not in a good way. Carla reared up in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure if it was more with annoyance or guilt at this point, but she’d moved on a hell of a long time before he had anyway. (Beau could admit that point, just to himself.)

It just made him wonder what he was doing here with you. Was it just because he knew you were having a hard time, and he wanted to cheer you up? Was it because you were Denise’s family? Or was it because…he just wanted to see more of you?

“You don’t get this view in the city, huh?” Beau asked. 

“You do not,” you replied. Your smile grew, making his do the same without him realizing.

Inside though, he wanted to shake his head at himself. You were a bit younger than him. Maybe not by all that much, in the grand scheme of things, but he was in his mid-forties, divorced with a sixteen-year-old daughter, and a somewhat unpredictable, occasionally dangerous job. At this point, he wouldn’t exactly consider himself a catch.

You were also dealing with a complicated past of your own. You’d been through a lot, especially in the past couple of weeks.

And yet, Cassie’s probing questions circled through his mind, invading his thoughts every time he found himself looking your way. 

Your face slowly dimmed. “Next week is Mary’s funeral. I’m going back home for a few days.”

Beau processed that with a nod, but he could guess why you looked worried. 

“And your ex?” he asked.

“He’s going to be there for sure. We were all close.” A deep breath rushed out of you. You peeled your eyes away from the view and looked over at him. “God help me, I don’t want to go home…does that make me a bad person?”

“Nah, I get it,” he said. He regarded you with more weight in his gaze. ���But this guy. Is he the aggressive type?”

“No,” you assured. Then more wryly, “He’s only dangerous to my mental health.”

You contemplated that reality for a moment, and you shook your head.

“You know how I found out about what he was doing?” you asked. “He sent me a Happy Birthday text…a spicy one, you could say. But it wasn’t my birthday.” 

“Damn,” Beau said, grimacing in sympathy. 

You tried not to, but you began tearing up. Beau wanted to brush them from your cheek as he drew closer on his horse. Instead, he settled a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey,” he said, quiet and placating. “I’m thinking you’ve cried enough over this.”

“I just…I still feel so damn stupid,” you muttered, wiping under your eyes.  

“What, are you a Professor of Cheatin’ Bastards too?” Beau quipped. You smiled reluctantly.

“That’s not funny,” you complained. 

He flashed you a grin and allowed himself to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear when a breeze of wind blew it into your face.

“Come on. You know I’m funny,” he teased, but then, he became more serious. “It’s not your fault. Trust me, I know something about being the problem, and it’s not on you.”

Both your interest and concern were piqued.

“You and Carla?” you asked. “You’re telling me it was all on you?”

“Well, maybe not all. But like you, my ex-wife ain’t a fool,” Beau said. His eyes lowered, along with his hand from your arm. “Let’s just say, it was justified.”

Let’s just say, you contemplated. That seemed to be his favorite catchphrase.

You didn’t know if you altogether believed that. He was going to grief counseling for a reason. You wanted to ask why, more than anything, but you also didn’t want to press him on something if he didn’t want to talk about it. If he felt comfortable enough with you, someday, maybe he’d open up to you. 

So after a few minutes of savoring the view, and the moment, you returned to town together.

A few days later, Beau still had a bad feeling about Avery.

His company was being investigated by the SEC and was threatening to go under. Apparently, Avery had made “friends” with Luke on the trip, who according to Avery, let it slip that he and Paige had $15 million in cryptocurrency.

The passcode to that $15 million account was missing. Beau had more than half a mind to think Avery had made a play for it during that camping trip. Carla hadn’t known her new husband’s company was being investigated. She’d put her foot down with Avery about the lying, at least.

As a result, Beau’s only consolation in all this was that she and Emily were back in their house, while Avery was living out of a hotel in town. Beau might not be able to pin him for the stolen crypto right now, but he knew where to look for Avery when the evidence came.

The man was #1 on Beau’s punch list, and it was only getting longer.

Instead of letting those thoughts fester, he decided to actually take his lunch break, and go check in on his daughter. Denise and Cassie told him she was doing well as their summer intern.

Emily seemed to be enjoying her time helping the private investigators. She showed him her small workstation beside Denise’s desk, where she was organizing old and new files, inputting the hard copies into digital ones on Cassie’s spare laptop. Emily was also helping out with some database research on existing cases.

Satisfied that she was helping out, but wasn’t doing anything too close to actual police work, Beau took the opportunity to lean over to Denise and discreetly ask about you.

Namely, how you were doing, and if you’d called her from Chicago. He managed to hold himself from asking when you were coming back to Montana, at least.

Denise still gave him a certain smile.

“Yeah, she called yesterday. She’s coming back today actually,” she replied. “I’m planning to pick her up in a few hours.”

Beau’s lips twitched at a smile, and he nodded. “Good. That’s uh…that’s good. Tell her I said ‘welcome home.’”

Denise and Cassie shared a look, one that drew even Emily’s attention. She shot her dad a glance and noted the dumb smile on his face. One that he tucked away when he met Emily’s gaze.

“Anyway, looks like you’re doing all right here. You’re coming to stay with me tomorrow, right?” he asked her.

“Yeah, sure,” Emily agreed.

“Okay, kiddo. See ya then,” Beau said. He gave her a hug and kiss to the side of the head. Though she gave him a hug back, she watched with a bit of suspicion after he said goodbye to Cassie and Denise, strolling out the door like he was making some kind of escape.

The adults again shared a look of mutual understanding. Then Cassie smiled and grabbed her work bag.

“All right. I’ll be back in a bit. Need to check on a few leads,” she said.

After Emily and Denise waved her off, the latter made some tea and returned with a mug each for her and Emily. Denise reclaimed the seat behind her desk, but she turned towards the girl beside her.

“So, hun, how’re you doing?” Denise asked. “I mean, I know you’ve gone through a lot these past couple weeks, and we’re happy to give you a little distraction here. But are you okay?”

Emily bit her lip and turned her rolling chair towards Denise. She had to take some time with her answer. Ever since coming back from that camp, she didn’t know if she’d really answered that question honestly—not for her mom, or her dad.

“Well, on one hand, Mom kicked Avery out. Or, I guess he kicked himself out,” she said. “On the other hand, my mom and dad are getting along better than they have since before the divorce, so…there’s that.”

Emily rested her elbow on the desk in front of her, head in hand. Denise gave her a sympathetic half-smile.

“I don’t hate Avery,” Emily admitted. “I actually like him a lot. He made Mom happy again. But would it be nice if she and my dad…if we could be a family again? I mean, yeah.”

Denise was patient as she listened. She tried to keep her true thoughts on the matter inside as you came to mind, though she pushed all that into the background in order to give Emily her undivided attention. 

“At the same time, I don’t know,” Emily shrugged. “My dad’s a great person, but he’s not good at letting people in. I don’t think Mom could go through that again.”

“Go through what?” Denise asked. 

“The way my dad shut us out, after what happened to his partner,” Emily explained. Her face went from slightly sad, to wry. “Okay, yeah, my mom’s not the most patient person. But Dad still doesn’t talk about it, not even to Mom. Or to me.”

Denise had heard some small thing about Beau’s former partner from you, and even Jenny, but she didn’t know the specifics there. All she knew was it laid at the heart of Beau and Carla’s divorce.

“Well, he’s your dad,” Denise said with a sigh. “He wants to protect you, even if that means protecting you from himself.”

“Sure, okay, but he doesn’t have to though. Not all the time,” Emily said.

She could be a strong, even-keeled kid, mature for her age, but Denise saw the rare vulnerability in the girl’s eyes.

“Sometimes I wish he’d just talk to me,” Emily said. Her eyes fell away.

Denise’s heart broke for the girl. Not knowing what else to say, she scooched her chair forward and pulled Emily into a warm hug.

By the time Denise picked you up from the airport and dropped you off at your apartment, you were beyond exhaustion. Coming home from a week in your hometown in Chicago left you feeling drained. Physically, emotionally, down to your toes.

At least you were home.

It was a surprising feeling—the feeling that this was your home now. Already it felt real.

Seeing your ex will do that to you.

“So how was it?” Denise asked. She’d graciously made you dinner as well, so you didn’t have to cook or worry about eating out. You two sat on the couch in your living room while some romcom played in the background.

“Everything I thought it would be,” you replied, around a mouthful of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. You let out a heavy sigh.

It had been good to see your parents, you explained, and you’d finally been able to give your condolences to Mary’s parents in person—at the funeral.

That’s where Michael tried to corner you to hash out what would’ve been yet another argument, at the burial of all things. You had to restrain yourself from making a scene in front of Mary’s entire grieving family, as well as yours.

Denise shook her head. “That guy ain’t got an iota of shame.”

You snorted. “You’re telling me?!”

You shook your head and speared at your green beans with your fork. You couldn’t even mourn your friend in peace, for God’s sake.

“Did your parents try to get you to stay longer?” she asked.

Again, you scoffed. “Oh, yeah. They actually tried to use Mary’s death to get me to think Helena was more dangerous than Chicago.”

While you’d understood their point to an extent, your home city still maintained one of the worst crime rates in the U.S.

“Still think you made the right decision?” Denise asked. “Whatever’s in your heart about it, just know that I’m so happy to have you here.”

She took your free hand and squeezed. You managed to smile, if just a little.

“Yeah. I think so,” you replied.

Chicago would always have a place in your heart, but for better or worse, this was your new start. And you were taking it.

You woke up the next morning to a shiny new text message. Still bleary-eyed, you unlocked your phone, and you just had to smile.

It was from Beau Arlen, you were pleasantly surprised to find.

Hey there. Heard you were back in town. (Welcome home, by the way.) Just wanted to let you know that me, Cassie, and Jenny are hitting a bar tonight after shift. You’re welcome to join in. Say around 8?

Without even really thinking about it, you typed out your reply:

Sure! I’ll be there. (And thanks very much. It’s nice to know the county sheriff rolls out the welcome mat for all of Helena’s returning citizens.)

You got up and started your day. You were midway through brushing your teeth when your phone buzzed on the bathroom counter. Your lips curved into a smirk when you read Beau’s reply.

Sounds good. (And I’m happy to oblige. 😉)

You shouldn’t have been blushing at such a simple message, but it set off the butterflies regardless. You huffed and set down your toothbrush.

Damn it.

You were in trouble.

With such a nice start to your morning, you were smiling all the way into town. The place you were headed to was just down the street of Dewell & Hoyt, so you knew you had to stop in just to say hello. There you found Denise and Emily.

“Did you have a good trip?” Emily asked, after you let her go from a hug. You gave your aunt one next.

“It was…good,” you replied, with a sigh. “Mary’s at rest now.”

Your eyes stung at the thought, but you tried to blink past it, taking in a breath to steady yourself. While Denise rubbed your back, Emily squeezed your arm in comfort, leading you to give her a smile. She was a sweet girl.

“What brings you over?” Denise asked.

You shook your head to come back to yourself. You showed them the large bag you carried on your shoulder. It was full of your painting supplies.

“Well, I’m actually headed to an art studio just down the street. I looked up the lessons they were offering this week, and apparently today it’s painting on glass. Like a bowl, or a mug, or a little stained glass window. They’ve got different options.”

Emily looked intrigued. “Ooh, that sounds cool.”

“Yeah?” you said, raising a brow. “You’re welcome to come with me if you want. Unless my aunt can’t spare you, or you’d rather not. It’s fine.”

There was no pressure to your offer, but you remembered Emily being somewhat interested in your painting endeavors while on the camping trip. With everything the girl had been going through, you thought maybe she’d like something creative and fun to try to get her mind off things. You knew it was doing the same for you.

“No, that would be fun, I guess,” said Emily. She looked to Denise in askance, who waved a dismissive hand. 

“It’s okay, hun. Take the afternoon off,” she said. “I’ve got things here.”

Emily smiled and nodded.

“Okay. Let me just grab my stuff.”

You and Emily ventured together right down the street to the art studio. You paid for the $40 entrance fee each for you and Emily into the class.

You could see that she felt uncomfortable with that when you two took your seats near the back of the studio. It was pretty full, and neither of you wanted to be right at the front, preferring to hang out more chill-like in the back.

There at each long table was an easel each, after you chose what kind of glass you wanted to paint on. Emily chose a funky looking bowl, while you chose a rectangular piece of wood-framed glass.

“I’ll pay you back,” Emily said, once you two were comfortable in your respective seats. You waved her off.

“It’s okay, honey. I invited you,” you said. Then you gave her a conspiring look. “Here’s my rule of thumb, especially on dates, for example. The person who invites you should shell out.”

Emily smiled. “That makes sense to me.”

You saw the gears in her mind turning, and it reminded you of her little “summer project.” She’d told you about it a couple of times on that camping trip.

“How’s your podcast going?” you asked. The girl sighed; she chose a brush and started painting blue stripes across her glass bowl.

“Slow,” she admitted. “I’m lacking interesting subjects.”

You hummed at that. “Maybe you need a guest to help kick things off.”

Emily smiled at that. She turned to you with a gleam of excitement.

“Would you do it?” she asked.

Your mouth fell open in surprise. “Me? I think I’d be too boring. Isn’t your podcast about relationships?”

“Well, yeah, but that was a good bit you just had,” she said. “Who pays on a date?”

You thought about it with another hum of contemplation. Suddenly you could start to see the potential in her idea. You still didn’t want to be a subject of inquiry, but you didn’t want to dim her spark either.

“Well, it would be fun if you got a man’s perspective too,” you said.

Emily brightened. Finally, someone who cared about her side project. 

“What about Dad?” she said. “He’s a guy.”

You chuckled. “Well, yes.” 

Though you wondered about the last time he’d been on a date since his divorce, or if he even was dating right now. 

The more you thought about it, the more interesting it might be to see Beau answer some of those kinds of questions. It wasn’t at all because you were curious about the man yourself…

“Maybe you’re onto something there,” you said, a smile growing on your face.

“I’ll ask him,” Emily vowed. “Maybe he’ll actually open up for once.”

She sort of muttered that last bit. It caught your attention with a wry brow raise.

“What? Your dad is as chatty as they come,” you said. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, about dumb stuff,” she said. “Try to get anything serious out of him. He’s like an old clam.”

A snort of laughter escaped you. “Old clam. That’s nice.”

Though you saw that there was something deeper there for Emily. You’d seen these kinds of moments in some of your students before. Sometimes, they felt comfortable enough with you to share what they were going through at home. In Emily’s case, it seemed like she was hurting about something, maybe for a while now.

You continued painting on your glass project, but you offered her a look of understanding.

“Remember how I told you that my dad used to be a firefighter?” you said. Emily nodded.

“Well, your dad sounds a bit like mine. He’d rather consult a bottle of Jack Daniels than anyone else, really,” you confessed. “He saw a lot of things on the job that were hard. Too hard to explain. Possibly too hard to even work through. It made him…distant, when I was a kid. I don’t think we really connected until I got older.”

And even now, your relationship with him was rocky at best, after he’d suggested you try to work it out with Michael. You and your father hadn’t truly spoken ever since.

You still gave Emily a look of encouragement.

“But, it seems like you and your dad have a better relationship than I did with mine at your age,” you said.

That fell between you both while Emily ruminated in it. She started adding gold strokes to her bowl alongside the blue in swirling patterns, and it was a really nice touch, you told her. She thanked you with a little smile.

“Did my dad tell you that he lost his partner on the job?” she asked.

You sighed. “Yes, he told me some. We didn’t go too deep into it.”

“Well, for a whole year, it was like we barely existed,” she said. “Mom tried to help him. I tried…but I guess he was a lot like your dad.”

Your lips pressed together. You were sad to hear that, but it did remind you of what Beau told you that day, when he took you horseback riding.

“Well, maybe not all. But like you, my ex-wife ain’t a fool,” Beau had said. “Let’s just say, it was justified.”

You now nodded in understanding as you hummed. Let’s just say.

“He seems better now,” you remarked. 

“Yeah. He cleaned up when Mom left him,” Emily said. “I guess that’s what it took to snap him out of it.”

You shook your head, and you kept painting.  

You could understand Carla, all too well. It just hurt you, now that you knew what a good man Beau was. Your sympathetic heart said he didn’t deserve to get left behind when he needed his family the most.

However, the more logical part of you knew that sometimes, love just wasn’t enough to keep you tied to someone who didn’t seem to want to help themselves. When it felt like they were giving you no choice.

“Anyway, you’ll be my other guest, right?” Emily asked with a smile. “For the podcast.”

You barely resisted the urge to groan. As much as you preferred not to put yourself out there, you didn’t want to discourage the girl in her project.

“Well…okay. If you get your dad on, I’m sure it’ll be interesting,” you said, your lips forming a grin. You two continued to paint while chatting about Emily’s favorite subjects in school. English, sadly, was not one of them, but you weren’t offended by it. Shakespeare wasn’t for everyone.

“I’m actually meeting your dad for drinks tonight. If you want, I’ll ask him about being on the podcast, try to soften him up for you,” you offered. “Though I’m sure he’ll do it if you asked.”

Emily considered you with a bit more scrutiny. “Are you…seeing my dad?”

“Oh, no,” you said immediately. Just the suggestion had your cheeks warming. “Cassie and Jenny will be there too. It’s nothing like that.”

“Sure,” Emily said. She gave an awkward laugh. 

“Really, Em. He and I are just friends,” you promised. 

Even if that thought stung a little.

Despite what you told Emily, you did put a fair amount of effort into your appearance to meet your new friends that night for drinks.

You even put on your favorite red lipstick with some dark wash jeans, a black pair of ankle boots, and a black lace top to match, complete with off-the-shoulder sleeves. 

Cassie whistled lowly when she saw you walk into the bar from her seat in one of the booths. She smiled and nudged Beau, whose face slackened when he saw you. 

God help him, you were sexy as hell in black. 

Black lace, he corrected himself. Your hair was a bit wild and teased out. The flash of red was a pleasant surprise, momentarily drawing his eyes to your lips. He felt the back of his neck heat up, but he tried to hide it all behind a friendly smile. He found himself sliding out of the booth to hug you in greeting. 

Goddamn, she smells good too, he thought. Was that your perfume, or your shampoo? Whatever it was, he liked it more than was good for him.

He managed to let you go though, and he grinned at your somewhat shy smile. You moved on to greet Cassie next, then Jenny, before you slid into the booth next to her and across from Beau and Cassie. 

“How was Chicago?” Jenny asked. It brought the mood down some. You gave a true smile, however tinged with melancholy. It was still very difficult to talk about Mary, but since everyone at the table knew the full story, it was easier to be honest.

“Chicago was needed. It was good, in a way. I got to lay her to rest,” you replied. “But I’m glad to be back.”

“Glad to have you back,” Cassie said. She passed you a tequila shot. 

“Ooh, nice.” You weren’t usually one for hard liquor, but tonight, you thought you could let yourself go a little. You downed the shot in one. 

“Eyy, good job,” Beau said, raising his whiskey with a wink. You laughed in slight embarrassment and wiped the corner of your mouth.

While Cassie called over the closest server to get them started with some appetizers for the table, you turned to Beau.

“You know, I did a painting class with Emily today,” you told him. “She did great! Has a nice little bowl to put her jewelry in.”

He raised his brows, smiling. “Is that so? What do you know. My little girl’s a budding artist. Is she gonna go all broody and steal even more of my vinyl?”

You shook your head in amusement.

“She’s a teenager. They don’t need any excuses to be broody,” Jenny remarked.

“Fair enough,” Beau chuckled.  

“Actually, she asked me to be on her podcast,” you said. “She wanted to see if you’d join in for a segment.”

The man looked uncertain at that. You understood his reservations, because you had the same ones. Cassie and Jenny looked amused by the idea of him getting recorded and put on social media by his sixteen-year-old.

“Look, I know, but she just wants to ask us a few questions,” you said. “Like who should pay on a date, that sort of thing.”

Beau rested his elbows on the table and folded his hands. The humor in his green eyes shone under the soft gold lamplight.

“Well, that’s easy. I was raised to be a gentleman,” he said. “I wouldn’t feel right letting a woman pay for me.”

You tilted your head in interest. A smile started to play on your lips as you leaned forward on your folded arms.

“Huh. Well, I think whoever asks the person out should pay,” you posed. “That doesn’t necessarily mean the man pays every time.”

Beau’s lips twitched, but there was a subtle shake of his head.

“I don’t know. That just doesn’t sit right with me for some reason,” he said. 

You turned to Jenny and Cassie for some support, and they both gave Beau an unimpressed look.

“You mean to tell me you wouldn’t let me pay for my own drinks?” you asked. “I have a job. I make money, same as you.”

At that, Beau chuckled. “Hey now, I didn’t say you couldn’t pay for your own. But you’re certainly not paying for mine.”

“So in your world, I can’t ever treat my man if I want to?” you challenged.

“What, you mean to tell me you don’t like getting spoiled?” Beau countered.

When you smiled, it had an amused, almost flirtatious edge that began to make him hot under the collar. 

“Occasionally, sure I do,” you replied. “But then again, who doesn’t like getting spoiled now and again?”

“Doesn’t have to be about who pays either,” Cassie interjected. 

“It sure doesn’t,” Jenny agreed. The women laughed and clinked their drinks together, leaving Beau with a warming face under his beard. He once again chuckled, conceding defeat. 

Conversation spiraled from there, in which Jenny mentioned something about her and Beau’s latest finished case about Brett, a skydiving, former firefighter’s murder.

It was a coverup for a larger scheme within his old firehouse—where firefighters had been looting homes after they’d been cleared out of a fire. Brett’s friend had been killed on one of those jobs, and not by accident either.

“That’s awful,” you said with a frown, once she finished explaining.

Against your will, it made you think of your ex-fiancé, Michael. He was still an active firefighter. While he had been a shitty boyfriend, at the very least you’d never had reason to question his integrity as a first responder.

“Yeah, it was hard on the father too. He’s the unit chief, and the whole operation was happening on his watch,” Beau said. “One of his own firefighters killed his son. It’s damn near unthinkable.”

Beau’s mood had shifted the moment Jenny brought up this case, you noticed. He was staring mostly into his half-empty whiskey glass, as if contemplating a refill.

“We said we wouldn’t talk shop tonight,” Cassie said. She seemed to notice his downshift as well. She got up out of her seat in the booth. “Let me get the next round. Another tequila?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. You’d probably pace yourself this time.  

“Not for me, I’m good with this,” Beau said. 

He held that whiskey between his hands, and you were glad that he was going slow. Your conversation with Emily about his own bout with grief and loss was still fresh in your mind. While your heart broke for him, you were also a little worried for him. Had this latest case opened up some old wounds?

“I’ll go with you,” Jenny said. You slid out of the booth so Jenny could as well. It left you and Beau to talk, while Jenny and Cassie went up to the bar together.

Cassie tried to get the bartender’s attention, but she glanced at her friend out of the corner of her eye.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Fine. Why?” Jenny replied. But she wasn’t meeting Cassie’s gaze. She was watching you and Beau, almost in melancholy.

Cassie’s brows furrowed as she realized what was happening. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before, considering both of their professions. 

“Aw, Jenny…” Cassie breathed. She wondered just how long her friend had been harboring some feelings for Beau Arlen.

Knowing she was “caught,” Jenny gave a wry smile.

“Don’t. It’s not a big deal,” she said quietly. “He likes her.”

Cassie sighed. “I think so. Even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

“He deserves something good,” Jenny said. Her smile was a bit more genuine this time. Cassie nodded in agreement.

“So does she, after what she’s gone through.”

“So how are you doing?” you asked Beau. It was the first time you’d been alone with this man since that horse riding lesson last week, and part of you was feeling a bit nervous.

Just friends, like you told Emily. You had to remind yourself. Just friends…until evidence points to the contrary.

At your question, Beau heaved a sigh, running a hand over his face. Suddenly he looked more tired than he did before. The laugh lines around his eyes looked more like the telltale signs of stress.

“Well, first off, we found the missing backpacker,” he said. “It seems the poor young man fell down a cliff while hiking.”

Your brows furrowed and you covered your mouth with a hand. “Oh my God.”

Beau nodded in grim confirmation. His gaze met yours.

“But I also wanted to tell you this in person when you got back. I’ve also got a silver lining on our mountain man, Walter,” he continued. “He confessed to murdering Paige. He’s keeping tight-lipped about Mary and Luke, but we’ve got him dead set to rights on at least one of the murders.”

You processed that with a shaky breath. Then you nodded.

“We’re gonna keep working on him from every angle, I promise,” Beau said. Just like he’d promised you before—that he would get justice for Mary. You believed him.

“Thank you,” you said. Your gaze softened, and you contemplated laying your hand over his on the table. You just barely stopped yourself.

Instead, you cleared your throat and swiped some of your hair over your shoulder.

“Any other news, hot off the press?” you joked, trying to alleviate the heaviness in your heart. Beau quirked a smile. He leaned back in his seat and carded a hand through his hair.

“Ahh. Well…you know I’m investing my ex-wife’s husband,” he said drolly, sipping his whiskey. “And that’s going about as well as it sounds. I can’t get into the details of course…but he might be dealing in something shady.”

Your eyes widened. “Shady, or dangerous?”

Beau realized how he’d let that last bit slip out. He wished he hadn’t. Not only did he not want to worry you, but he didn’t want you anywhere near his open cases.

“I’m keeping close tabs on Carla and Emily just to be safe,” he admitted. 

Your face became the picture of concern. But before you could respond, a man approached the table, tall and lean, with a shaggy cut of dark blonde hair. He wore a pair of faded jeans, boots, and a gray and red Chicago FD shirt. 

Your face paled, and your mouth parted in surprise. 

“Hey there, stranger,” he said with a smile. 

“Michael?” you gasped.

AN: 🫣 Yep, we're going there lol. But how did you like the horseback riding lesson? Or her little day out with Emily? Or the bit of fun at the bar, before Michael showed up?

You'll definitely be seeing more of that guy in Part 5...

Next Time:

“Michael?” you gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Beau’s eyes widened. Michael was younger than him, closer to your age. And cocky too.  

“Hey, baby,” Michael said. His smile quirked with charm, but his next words were anything but charming. 

“We need to talk,” he said, raising his brows.

“We actually don’t,” you retorted in a firmer voice. Cold even. You straightened in your seat. 

Beau saw none of your softness and good humor from earlier. This was a different woman, and he was actually proud of you for standing your ground. Though he realized then that he’d never gotten on your bad side. (He hoped he never did.)

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 5

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[dindjarindiaries]

Rush

summary: You and Hunter have to make a risky escape when the end of a mission goes sideways, though even an exit gone wrong has a bright side.

pairing: sergeant hunter (tbb) x reader

tags: canon-typical violence, light angst, kissing/sexual themes, fluff

rating: T

word count: 3.478k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

Thunder crackled overhead, and no later did you start feeling the droplets of rain that ricocheted off the trees surrounding you. With a huff, you tried in vain to press yourself harder against the rough bark, as if the canopy of leaves would somehow give you cover from the oncoming storm. “Great,” you muttered. “This is just what we needed.”

“At least it’ll cool us off,” Hunter offered, tilting his helmet as he kept his blaster lifted in his hand. He spoke without moving from his post, which happened to be the tree across from yours.

You raised an amused eyebrow at him. “Ever the optimist.”

Hunter chuckled. “I’m trying my best.” He touched his fingers against his helmet and spoke into the comms. “Time’s winding down, Echo. How close are you two?”

“We’ve nearly got it,” Echo responded. “I’ve gotten access, but Tech just has to decrypt a few more sequences.”

You and Hunter watched another patrol of guards stroll around the corner of the safehouse Echo and Tech had snuck into. It was the third you had seen in the past ten minutes, which confirmed their suspicions were rising. Your squad had over welcomed their stay.

“There’s a third patrol group,” you warned them.

“Make that four,” Wrecker added. “Omega and I see a new group, too.”

You and Hunter shared a cautious look. His finger tapped his blaster a few times before he spoke into the comms again. “Tech?”

“Thankfully, I work well under pressure.” The tapping of Tech’s fingers along his datapad could be heard in the background of his comm. “All of Cid’s requested intel has at last been decrypted and uploaded. I must say, I find it utterly intriguing that she—.”

“Is this relevant, Tech?” Hunter’s tone was short with concern, not anger.

Tech’s sigh was audible over the comms. “I suppose it can wait. Echo and I are making our exit now.”

“Great.” With that, Hunter lowered his blaster, though he kept it close. You did the same with your own as you kept your keen eye on the latest patrol. Tech and Echo were getting out the same way they got in, and you and Hunter were closest to that exit point. Your focus would guarantee their safety.

As the rain turned into a downpour, however, it was harder to see. You squinted and blinked a few times when raindrops cascaded from your brow down to your lashes, eventually raising your arm to your eyes in a vain attempt to dry them. Your clothes had already started to stick to your soaked skin.

“You okay over there?” Hunter’s voice was yet again full of concern as you lowered your arm to look at him.

“I’m fine.” You offered him a nod for further reassurance. “You’re just lucky you have a helmet.”

Hunter began to raise his hands to the sides of his helmet. “You can have it if you need it.”

Warmth that was much more welcome than the tropical planet’s humidity swelled inside your chest as you shook your head. “That’s sweet, honey, but I’ll be fine.”

Hunter lowered his hands and nodded. His visor returned to the sight of the building in the distance even as he continued to speak to you. “I like it when you call me that.”

You chuckled to yourself. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s…”

Hunter trailed off, causing you to look from the blurry view of Echo and Tech’s exit point over to him. His entire body was tense as his visor looked just beyond you, and it became apparent that his senses had alerted him to something new. You furrowed your brow and prepared to ask him about it when you heard the sound of a growl just behind you.

“Sunny.” Hunter’s voice was a low and worried warning. “Don’t move.”

You slowly turned your head over your shoulder and felt your heart leap into your throat. There was a creature at least twice your size standing just behind you, a four-legged beast with long talons and two rows of eyes. It flashed its massive teeth at you as it growled once again.

Your panicked instincts took over, but before you could act out on them, Hunter lunged over to muffle your scream and keep you in place. His gloved hand absorbed the sound as his other arm wrapped around your waist. “Don’t. Move.”

You tried to control your breathing as your gaze stayed locked on the creature’s, but the louder it growled at you, the more difficult that task became. It took a step closer, and you gripped Hunter’s arm and wrist, lowering his hand from your mouth. “Hunter…”

“I’m watching.” His own steady breaths guided yours as his armored chest rose and fell behind you. For a moment, you really thought it would be okay.

Then, the creature roared, and Hunter raised his blaster and shot it so fast that it was nothing more than a flash in your memory.

Keeping his arm on your waist for a moment, Hunter tugged you away, leading you in a new direction. “Come on!”

You snapped back into battle mode as you diligently followed him. “Where are we going?”

“We can’t evade this thing on foot,” Hunter insisted, guiding you through the trees as the creature followed. You didn’t need Hunter’s enhanced senses to know it was only getting closer and closer. “I saw some speederbikes by the other exit point.”

“Won’t they see us stealing their equipment?”

Hunter gave his helmet a tilt even as he ran. He continued to raise his voice above the sound of the storm. “I have a feeling they already know we’re here.”

Then came the first blaster shot. You ducked down and glanced to your right, seeing the patrol group from earlier taking their aim at you and Hunter. “Oh, great! Another thing to avoid!” You fired back at them, though the attempt was pointless as the downpour blurred their distant images. “I could really use some of that optimism right about now!”

“Just stay close!” Hunter also fired back some shots at the patrol, which was thankfully composed of some poor shooters. He artfully dodged each tree and other obstacle as he led you forward, and soon, he was pointing at something ahead of him. “Here!”

You saw the outline of the speederbike just before Hunter hopped onto it. He waited until you had fallen in place behind him to push it forward, but even with the sound of its loud engine and the pouring rain around you, you could hear the other bikes following you in close pursuit. “We’ve got company!”

“Hold on!” Hunter took a sharp right, causing you to tighten your grasp on his middle for stability. Once he had straightened the bike out again, you reached back with your blaster and started to take aim at your pursuers.

“What’s causing that blaster fire?” Echo asked over the comms. “It’s impossible to see anything in this storm.”

“We’re in a bit of a situation,” you informed the squad, taking another few shots before holding tight to Hunter as he banked left. “We’re handling it, though. Did you get out okay?”

“Echo and I have rendezvoused with Wrecker and Omega,” Tech answered. “We are en route to the ship.”

“We’ve got a patrol hot on our trail,” Hunter managed to say even as he steered the bike. “We’re not heading back to the ship until we lose them.”

“Do you want some help?” Wrecker asked, and his tone revealed his desire to see some action.

“Negative, Wrecker.” Hunter paused as he went right, and you nearly lost your grasp on him thanks to how slick his armor had become. He set a hand over yours to keep it secure. “I don’t want them knowing there are more of us. Just get the ship ready to go.”

“You’ve got it, Sarge.”

“Be careful!” Omega’s genuine request managed to make you smile even as you blasted a few more times. None of your shots were landing, thanks to how hard the downpour was making it to aim. To make matters worse, they were firing their own shots, and you were just barely managing to dodge them thanks to your exposed position.

“I can’t see anything in this rain!” You ducked as a blaster bolt nearly grazed both your heads. “My shots are useless!”

Hunter, of course, only needed a moment or two before his quick thinking began. “I have an idea.” He paused to go around a tree, and you held on tight to keep yourself from slipping. “We’re gonna switch.”

Your eyes widened as you gave him a once-over. “How?”

Hunter spoke without once looking away from where you were going. “I’m gonna lean left, and you lean right. I’ll maneuver myself behind you, and once we’re both settled, you’ll take the handles from me. Okay?”

You took a deep breath. “Do you trust me to pilot in this downpour?”

Hunter’s response was genuine as he offered you a quick glance. “I trust you with my life, Sunny.”

You smiled as your determination set in. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Hunter nodded. “On the count of three.” He tightened his grip on the handles. “One… two…” Hunter took one more hard turn and then leveled the bike back out. “Three!”

As Hunter lifted himself up and leaned to the left, you leaned right and pushed yourself forward, tucking yourself under his arm. Hunter’s right leg swung off the front of the bike and fell in place behind you, and in just a few seconds, he was seated behind you. You wrapped your hands around the handles to take them from Hunter, and he let go once you were in full control.

“There you go.” Hunter wrapped his left arm around you for stability and drew his blaster with his right. “See? Easy.” He gave you a gentle squeeze before he focused on shooting.

“Yeah, don’t speak too soon.” You smirked to yourself as you banked left and then right, causing Hunter’s grasp on you to tighten.

“Are you trying to throw me off this thing?” Hunter’s tone was laced with amusement as he fired a few blaster bolts.

Your mischievous grin widened. “I thought you said you trusted me.”

“I do.” Hunter paused to focus on aiming for a few moments. “But I still wouldn’t put it past you to make it hard on me.”

“Considering you’re the one who’s responsible for keeping us alive right now,” you gritted your teeth as you swerved around two trees, “these are purely circumstantial challenges.”

“Lucky for you, I can handle it.” No later did you hear Hunter’s blaster go off, followed by the sound of a speederbike crashing. “We’ve only got two left.”

You revved the bike and pushed it forward even faster, causing Hunter to grunt with surprise as he held on tighter. You racked your brain for a new strategy as you artfully dodged each obstacle in your path. “Okay, I’m gonna make a hard left,” you told him. “That should give you a good shot at the pilot on our left.”

Hunter nodded, a movement you could sense as he kept shooting to distract them. You waited until you were headed full-speed at a tree to turn the handles and brake left, causing your bike to be perpendicular to the path of the others. All it took was two shots from Hunter’s blaster to incapacitate the second driver, leaving you with one more left to go.

Hunter’s modulated voice was warm as he spoke. “If I had known you were this good at piloting a bike, I would’ve had you hop on first.”

You chuckled to yourself and tried to ignore the heat that rushed to your face at his praise. “That’s nice of you to say, but we’re not done yet.” You glanced over your shoulder to see the bike gaining speed on you. “Got any ideas?”

Hunter kept shooting, and each new shot proved this pilot wasn’t going down as easy as the others did. “Not really. This one’s tough.” He pressed himself against you when a blaster bolt flew over your shoulders. “We might just have to try to lose them.”

You wove around another tree, and the movement alone gave you a new plan. “I’ve got something.” You flexed your wrists to increase your speed. “Holster your blaster and hold on tight, Sergeant.”

Hunter didn’t hesitate to obey your order. It was only after both his arms were tight around you that he spoke up. “What do you have in mind?”

You tilted your head and focused on the upcoming path. “You’d rather not know.”

Before Hunter could respond, you began to swerve around a massive tree trunk, but you kept your momentum to the left and turned the bike all the way around in a circle. You pressed forward even harder, causing you to charge the other bike head-on as you fired a few blasts from the bike’s guns. It did nothing as the distance between your two bikes began to close.

“Sunny,” Hunter warned, his gloved hands fisting the material of your tunic as you went faster and faster. When you still didn’t stop or turn away, he said your real name in an even more panicked tone.

At the last second, you pulled up hard, causing the bottom of your bike to narrowly miss skimming the other as they flew under you. Your distraction, however, caused them to miss what was standing directly in their path, and their bike flew straight into the tree trunk you had already circled around.

“And that’s three,” you said, smiling to yourself with satisfaction as you began to steer yourselves back towards the Marauder. You gave Hunter a quick glance over your shoulder. “Still think I’m a good pilot?”

There was a pause as Hunter lifted one of his arms from you. He reached up to remove his helmet as he exhaled an affectionate breath. “You’re amazing.” The hand holding his helmet wrapped around you again as the other moved to your thigh, his thumb and his fingers stretching across the expanse of it. “Amazing.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt the warmth of his lips on your rain-soaked neck, and despite the fact you were trying to focus on the winding path ahead of you, you couldn’t help tilting your head to give him more access. His hand running up and down your thigh was no help. “Hunter,” your utterance of his name was more of a pleased sigh than you would’ve liked, “this isn’t helping me to focus.”

He stopped kissing you to speak, but he kept himself close enough for his breath to fan over your skin. “I think you’ve proven you can still work well with distractions.” Hunter gave your skin another kiss before pausing again. “But I’ll stop if you want me to.”

You couldn’t resist him. “Hell no.” You freed a hand from the handles to cover his on your thigh. “By all means, keep challenging me.”

Hunter huffed, the sound melting into your skin in a way that drew an audible breath from you. He took your words as an open invitation to devour you, despite the way the rain was still pouring over him—and now soaking his unprotected head. Heat coursed through you in a way that was much different than the planet’s humidity, and it was only getting more and more impossible to ignore.

So much for working well with distractions.

You weren’t far from the Marauder when you brought the bike to a full stop. Before Hunter could even begin to question it, you had already spun around to grab his face and pull it to yours. Each bead of rainwater on your faces began to melt together in a sweet storm of your own, feelings of strong desire and relief from your leftover adrenaline pulsing through in each matching stroke of your tongues. It wasn’t often that you got to show off for each other, and it certainly wasn’t often that you got to celebrate a victory like this.

You raked a hand through his wet locks, drawing a pleased growl from him that caused him to somehow intensify his beautifully overwhelming actions. He tilted your head back, deepening your kiss in a way that made you cling to him the most you could. It was a breathtaking moment that made everything else fall away, from the raging storm that continued to pour down on you to the squad who was still waiting for you on the ship.

That was the thought that eventually helped you to separate yourself from him, though your teeth gently clung to his lip in your desperation to stay in the moment as long as you possibly could. Your slickened forehead rested against his as you took a few breaths of composure. “I really need to focus on getting us back to the ship, honey.”

Hunter smiled at that. “You’re right. We can’t leave the squad waiting for too long.” He lifted his head from you and helped you to turn back around. “I don’t like it when they start to get suspicious of us.” You chuckled at that, the warmth remaining in your chest as he set his hand on your thigh once again. “Lead the way, love.”

You beamed and prepared to push hard on the handles. “Hold on, Sarge.” You surged forward, and Hunter tightened the arm he had around you to keep himself in place. You laughed as he shook his head, though his own armored chest was rumbling with a hearty sound that you could feel on your back.

It wasn’t much longer before you saw the Marauder exactly where you had left it. You parked the bike, and before you could hop off, Hunter had already done so and extended his hand to you. You smiled and accepted it before the two of you ran towards the open hatch.

“Nice of you two to join us,” Echo quipped from inside the hold. He had a smile on his face that proved Hunter’s earlier words to be true; he was eagerly suspicious of something.

“Took a while for us to lose them.” Hunter’s response was delivered with as much composure as usual, though you didn’t miss the gentle brush of his hand over your back as he passed you on the way to the cockpit. “Tech, get us out of here.”

You were immediately distracted by Omega, who ran up to you with a worried stitch in her brow. “Are you okay, Sunny?” She gave you a quick once-over, no doubt searching for injuries, as she held the blanket over her shoulders even tighter. “How did they see you? It was so hard to see anything in the rain!”

“We’re fine, Omega.” You ran a hand over her wettened hair and smiled. “A creature jumped out and surprised us, and that gave away our position.”

Omega’s eyes widened. “How’d you get away?”

You crossed your arms, suddenly starting to shiver now that the regulated temperature of the Marauder was making your soaked clothes feel colder. “Speederbikes.”

Omega began to look even more impressed as she raised an eyebrow. “You stole one?”

“We did.” It was Hunter who answered for you, having returned from his quick check-in with Tech. His gloved hand had fallen on your shoulder, and as you glanced at him, there was no hiding the concern in his gaze as he looked upon your shivering form. He stepped away to set his helmet down and grab another one of the blankets, which he set over your shoulders for you. You uttered a quiet thanks as he nodded.

“Aww,” Wrecker cooed from where he was sitting in the hold. “Look at your soft side, Sarge!”

“No blanket for me?” Echo added, his grin having widened even more.

Hunter grabbed another blanket and threw it at Echo, causing both him and Wrecker to laugh as he did so. You giggled and shared a look with Omega, who was beaming at you as she rested her side against yours. You sat down with her on the floor of the hold, huddling together for more warmth. Your gaze caught Hunter’s as his lips stretched in a smile that warmed every inch of you in a way that was much more wholesome than your stolen moment.

You would only have those longing glances until you could steal another moment with him, though the rush his admiring eye gave you would never fail to leave you wanting more.

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831

[fawnlotties]

being charlotte matthew’s assistant…

you were forever grateful that charlotte had decided to take pity upon a broke college student and hire you as her assistant. you were skeptical of her ‘intentional community’ at first, but charlotte was the furthest thing from a demanding boss. being able to sit in a homely office with guaranteed hot meals and a gorgeous older woman to check in on you constantly - how could you complain?

speaking of, charlotte was always around you. you’d find it overbearing if you didn’t love the scent of her bergamot perfume, or the way her hand would linger on your shoulder when she’d ask you to chase up client information. as the weeks went on so did her watch over you, to the point where your office became merged with her own.

“but, no one’s meant to come in here… are you sure?”

“of course, darling. it’ll only make things more efficient, won’t it? and… i could use the company.”

you had a growing suspicion that charlotte was favouring you. you weren’t required to wear purple like everyone else, in fact, charlotte went out of her way to begin supplying you with ‘uniform.’ skirts and dresses teetering the line of sensual corporate, whatever that meant. she’d insist you left the top buttons of your blouse undone - “it’s getting quite warm in here, right? maintenance are useless…” - she’d even begun to expect a little fashion show whenever new heftily-priced clothes were placed atop your bedsheets. you couldn’t lie, it excited you to see her so endeared, so proud as you meekly show off your new not-very-sensible black pumps with a price tag that could send you into cardiac arrest.

you soon learnt that charlotte is very tactile. not only in her work within the community, but in her work with you. the first time she suggested you give her a massage, albeit half-joking, you wondered when your daydreams had turned so vivid. as your manicured fingers dug into the junctures of her tensed neck and she lets out a breathy moan, you thanked all your lucky stars.

charlotte declared that your fingers “work magic,” and you tried move past the obvious innuendo that had your cheeks heated red every time you’re around her. it’s hard, though, when she began to use your affection as a stress reliever. it’s not like you hate it, anything but. behind closed eyes, your nights are filled with visions of her slender fingers enclosed around your wrist, tugging you impossibly closer, slipping between your stocking-clad thighs. you sensed that charlotte can somehow read your thoughts, though the thought both scares and excites you.

it started with more massages, where she slips the soft material off her shoulder because “i’m so tense here, lend a hand?” her calloused fingers began to clasp at yours, guiding them just a little further down to where you think the boundaries of your position are blurred. but at this point, self control is out the window, especially with the way her doe eyes completely pull you inward.

everything about her pulls you in, really. all she has to do now is whisper a soft “darling,” when you appear in the doorframe, maybe even a little coax with her finger, and you’re practically floating right into her lap. it’s a proven stress reliever for her, and you’re more than happy to provide. that’s what a good assistant does, after all!

her lips find your neck because she says the scent of you relaxes her, sometimes whispering that you taste good, and you’d never admit how excited that gets you. meanwhile her hands toy with the material of your cardigan’s hem, and you get the hint.

charlotte loves when you talk. she’ll ask you to drone on about your day whilst her teeth are just lightly puncturing the soft skin of your neck, tsk if you stutter whilst she pries your thighs apart. you want to please her, after all, and she knows this too. it’s why her praise now comes in a constant stream, whispers of “good girl, that’s it, you’re making me so proud…”

you make her especially proud when you sink to your knees, under the mahogany of her desk. it’s only ever when you notice she’s particularly tense - knuckles white as she grips the edge of her desk, brows pursed into a quaint frown. you have her like jelly in almost no time as you slip underneath her kaftan, and the only sounds that fill the grandeur of the room are your muffled hums and charlotte’s shaky gasps, curses and praise slipping through her lips like a mantra. only when her thighs are shaking and her eyes are rolling back does she forget about the tasking role that is being head of her commune, all thanks to her doting assistant.

[shieldedreams]

you’re all i see (n.s.)

summary ⇾ there are days where you’re harsh on yourself; these are the days neteyam is the most gentle with you. details ⇾ 3,081 words / neteyam sully x na’vi!reader / 🌸 comfort fluff / established relationship / gn!reader / implications to the reader’s past history of losing their parents notes ⇾ you can view this as a ‘reverse’ to this little thing i wrote for neteyam. thank you for the lovely support on my first avatar fic! ✨ [avatar masterlist]

one of the secluded areas in the forest remains two; one older, one younger–sparring, training–mimicking a situation of life and death. neytiri on one end, you on the other. baring out your training against her of accumulated hours of perseverance and determination; blood, sweat and tears–the bloody tears–to constantly improve yourself. 

on one of the nearby trees, sits two mischievous lads... and two just as cheeky ladies. they hadn’t been here long, having their own training but they got here just in time to watch one of the rounds.

their sounds of admiration and gasps quietly fill the air, past the sounds of heavy breathing and grunts as you do your best to try to take neytiri down. those golden nuggets of opportunity come sparingly–having trained with her for years–but they do occur once in a while. every flip, every roll of your body on the ground, every hiss that leaves your lips when she’s just within reach but always a step ahead of you–it all accumulates to creating a chance for you to be able to come up on top. 

by some grace of eywa, just as neytiri plants a kick to your chest, harshly driving your back onto the ground, you’re able to extend your leg out to swipe her ankle a second quicker before she’s able to pull it back. the split second of her losing her footing allows you to tackle her to the ground, swiftly retrieving your dagger to pin it to her neck.

in neytiri's eyes, it sparks her pride and joy. in the eyes of others, the glow of admiration is evident. in the eyes of neteyam, however, the worry only starts to grow when he sees your hands trembling.

neytiri’s senses never lie to her especially when it's being tested right in front of her face. she gapes, watching as you drop the dagger to your side with your eyes flickering away from hers. it’s like she knows what’s going on in your mind even if you don’t say it. no words needed. she carefully maneuvers you off her so she’s able to sit up properly, a hand now pillowed to your cheek as you remain kneeling beside her.

“child... you’ve done so well,” she smiles, even if you can’t see it when your eyes flutter shut as you nuzzle into her hand with a bated breath, “your parents would be so proud of you.”

“...if only i knew what i do now back then,” your voice is a mere whisper that gently rattles neytiri’s heartstrings. she makes a sound, one that makes you hush as she gives you a shake to open your eyes. when you do, that’s when a couple of stray tears fall from your eyes that she brushes away with a faint smile. she makes you lean your forehead against hers and you’re shaking.

“you were too young back then. do not hold yourself responsible for things you cannot change,” she sighs, swallowing thickly. “what’s important now is you can protect yourself, something your parents would have definitely wanted–”

“please,” you cut her off, desperately needing to be alone and she knows of it when your body tenses up. you’ve talked about this with her before, with jake, with people you’ve come to surround yourself like the family you’ve never had but it’ll never be the same. it pains neytiri she can’t do anything about it but comfort you like her own, regardless of your relationship with her children. what she does is respect your decision and what you choose to do when these feelings got overwhelming.

“may i be dismissed?” you ask softly, sniffing as you lap your hand over hers to gently pull it away, “i just...” you take a sharp breath and exhale shakily after: "...i think i need some air.”

neytiri nods without a word, accepting your hand up when you stand on your feet. as the two of you find your footing, she remains holding onto your hand, cupping one of yours with both of hers as she plants a kiss; a silent prayer and blessing–you are our family. the moment is short-lived when she glances over your shoulder and instantly regrets it. much to her dismay, you follow her line of sight by looking over your shoulder to see four familiar looking faces that you’d rather not right now.

“y/n!” tuk waves with a huge grin, “you were so cool!” she chuckles to herself, “oh, you too, mom!”

you face forward to allow neytiri see your panicked face, more so when you hear telltales of them climbing down the trees to get to where you are. it’s like she read your mind and gives you a small nudge as she lets go of your hand. go, she whispers, moving to cover you as it kicks into your mind to start moving. you walk, then run. soon, you’re swinging on the trees and padding on branches to get as far as possible until their voices disappear.

“hey! we could’ve gone together!” lo’ak huffs, crossing his arms as they all huddle around their mother. 

“is y/n okay, mother?” kiri asks, fiddling with her fingers as neytiri curls tuk against her side with one arm, the other reaching up to fix kiri’s hair, “yeah, just... wanted to get some time alone, that’s all.”

she smiles at them until she reaches one who would be the most concern. based on his silence and the way his feet itches on the ground, tail fiddling back and forth, neytiri extends an arm out to place a hand on the shoulder of–”neteyam, maybe it’ll be good to let y/n have some–”she can barely finish her sentence when he’s stubbornly brushing past her hold, feet picking up the pace until he’s climbing the trees and pinning a route in his mind to get to where you are.

past the sounds of leaves fluttering and creaks of branches, she lowers her hand to her side in vain, shaking her head.

“don’t worry, mom,” lo’ak’s the first to speak, “he’ll probably bring y/n back in time for dinner.”

kiri scoffs a laugh and gives the boy a good nudge to the head.

“hey! this is abuse!” lo’ak huffs, looking to his mother, “mom! you’re just gonna let kiri do that to me?”

neytiri sighs and only ruffles his head, then ushering all of them to–”come, let us head back.”

as they begin their walk back together, neytiri glances over her shoulder to see how her son is long gone, presumably close to reaching you better than any of them would have to begin with. it puts a smile to her face; the ease she knows well to have someone just know where you will be in your moment of need. no matter how big, or how small. she rests easy with faith knowing her son and you, will be just fine.

//

when his first idea doesn’t fall through, neteyam switches his course really quick to be able to decipher where you might be. it was always one out of two places. if it wasn’t up high in one specific tree (with secretly marked initials at the bottom of the trunks, masked by the bushes that circles around), then it has to be–”now, what is a pretty thing like you all alone here?”

the sounds of water flowing and quiet breathing greets him. neteyam heaves a deep sigh as he watches you stubbornly hugging your knees to your chest, back against the tree behind you that looms over the small river, eyes refusing to meet his. it’s quiet here, another location that in due time, became yours and neteyam’s to be free; to be vulnerable. another tree marked with the similar looking initials near the root of the bark.

he looks–always has to look at the carving of his initials embedded with yours. only then is he able to take his place next to you. neteyam sits so close to you that he barely leave you any room to move away. begrudgingly, you try to create distance between your body but it only elicits a huff from him. quickly, he puts an arm around your shoulders as he leans in close, pressing his forehead to the side of yours.

it’s a subdued reaction but it comes in waves. first, your shoulders inevitably relax. then, the breath you were holding in releases and he feels the way your body rises to take a deep intake of air and soon, you’re breathing comfortably. it’s as if you could never put up a front around him and he’s delighted. it shows on his face; a smile so wide it puts the moon to shame. irises sparkling that it puts the stars to fade.

ignoring the way he’s looking at you, your eyes continue to stare at the way the water flows in front of you. gently, yet, so carefree with the flowers it takes captive, moving in one direction.

“what do you want?” you mutter under your breath.

“well...” he starts off, “what you want is what i want,”

automatically, you turn your head just a little to meet with his playful gaze. your eyes squint at him, a silent what do you mean? written all over your face. the way your brows knit together in confusion, the small twitch of your lips turning into a frown. it only adds to his happiness as he starts to move with such precision and confidence. it’s as if he knows you’ll allow him to do whatever and it’s exactly that.

for someone so guarded, he’s amused with the way he’s able to put his arms around you, momentarily lifting you up to shift your position forward. it grants him the space behind you as he respectively assumes the position of leaning against the tree trunk behind both of you. then, he spreads his legs out and carefully pull you back to lean against his chest. your body untwists itself, legs stretching out, lapping between neteyam’s and you find yourself resting into him; moulding to the shape of his body.

as your head leans against one of his shoulders, your hands find purchase in his as he cocoons you in. his thumbs brush over the backs of your hands, his calm breathing against your back; your eyelids grow heavy from the comfort that his body brings but so does the weight in your heart when neteyam starts to speak.

“you were amazing out there,” he murmurs, a soft kiss pressed to the side of your head soon after.

he peeks down on you to gauge your reaction and he hates–hates how sad you look despite performing so well. it wasn’t easy going through his mother’s training. him and his siblings out of all people would know. he watches as you open your mouth to speak but you’re silencing yourself before you have the chance to say anything. it’s like there’s a mental debate going on in your mind and he senses it; he hates that as well.

“my love,” he calls for you, the desperation surfacing in between his words, more so in his actions as he squeezes your hands, “talk to me. please.”

he moves his hands from holding yours to hug you tight. both arms draped around your figure, one hand pressed to your hip, the other clutching onto your elbow as he rubs circles to soothe your erratic heart. his eyes remain on you; watching, patiently.

“i feel weak,” you whisper, “i still see them everywhere i go,” your hands are anchored onto neteyam’s forearms and he doesn’t react even when your fingers lightly dig into his skin, “it’s a constant reminder that no matter how good i am now, it’s all useless if i can’t protect those who mattered most.”

neteyam is silent but present. he nudges your head with his and it makes you turn the cheek so you can feel his chin against your forehead. he takes in a deep breath and it beckons you to do the same when you feel his lungs expanding against your back. he doesn’t use words just yet; merely comforting you with his body, his hands, his touch–with his entire being.

his hands continue to gently rub circles wherever he can reach; thumb pads against your hip and elbow, caresses along your arm and along the sides of your body. the idyllic gestures make you feel calm and it injects the kind of warmth into your body like no other.

neteyam only knows it’s time to say something when he sees how your eyes open and meet with his. the hand he has by your elbow lifts up to press against your cheek. his thumb delicately running under the bag lining your eye.

“i can’t imagine what it would be like to go through that all alone,” he sighs, shaking his head, “but now... now you can protect those who matter.” he notices your eyes wavering but you remain looking at him, “fight for those you love now. those that are with you now.”

you find yourself scoffing a laugh and the look of confusion on his face makes it all the more amusing.

“such as yourself, i suppose?” you use a hand to knock the side of his head lightly but he doesn’t react to it, only widening his smile handsomely planted on his face, “hey, i gave you the prompt but you filled in the answer,” he proudly puffs his chest out a bit, making you lean forward as he does, “if it’s me you wish to protect, i’ll be more than willing to accept.”

you try to push him away to no avail, more so when the laughter rubbles from inside your stomach at his antics that seemingly lift up the heavy weight resting on your chest. he only pulls you in tighter, refusing to let you go far. his legs start to case you in, locking you in place as he reflects your smile.

“you’re stupid,” 

“yeah, but i’m your stupid,” he counters.

you roll your eyes, “sounds like something lo’ak would say,”

he deadpans, “can you please not bring up my brother when it’s our alone time?”

it only makes you laugh again and despite you teasing the life out of him, he’d rather you do that if he’s able to see how happiness radiates of your face. it’s addictive; it’s what keeps him going, fuels his determination to perform if it all means he gets to protect the smile on your face.

“if i recall, i wanted to be alone by myself,” you shift in his arms, facing him with your arms crossed in front of your chest. he shows no moves to let you go, only leaning forward to press his forehead on yours. “ah, my love, we are one remember? there is no two between us.”

you uncross your arms to place a hand on his forehead, “did you knock your head or something? you’re being awfully ridiculous today.”

“this is the price i get for being a loving boyfriend?” he scoffs, shaking his head, “you ought to be grateful.”

“i am,” you respond quickly, sitting up to hover your lips just a mere nudge away from sealing the deal. neteyam’s clearly entranced, expecting you to just kiss him already but the way you smile as his defenses are lowered grants you the ability to shoot up from his grasp. “so grateful that i’m going to run away!”

he hisses at you–with no malice, more out of instinct–as he rises to his feet and begins to chase after you. past the initial jumps and climbing up the trees to glide along the branches to full-blown swinging back home, you look over your shoulder to laugh at neteyam who’s not too far behind. his intended sourness is replaced with the sweetness of seeing you so carefree; so light-hearted as you move.

it looks much different than when he saw you running away earlier.

that makes him think that in a way, he does have the ability to make you feel better. just as you do with him. and as cheesy as it sounds, if this is the sight he gets to see, it doesn’t matter where he’s at. as long as you’re the that remains as a constant in his eyes.

((four familiar people can be seen swinging on trees with each other; spider included, this time. all of them are messing about, lightly pushing each other, challenging one or the other to climb higher! let’s see how high you can go! 

their chatter quiets down when two more familiar people come along.

“y/n!” tuk exclaims as she lock gazes with you, despite hanging upside down with her knees tucked on one of the branches. she swiftly sits up with kiri’s aid, now half-jumping into your arms just as you sit on the branch next to her.

“hey, tuger,” you snort, the nickname she once thought i’m not a tiger! you can’t just mix ‘tuk’ and ‘tiger’ together! but now she grows fond of, almost expecting you to say it whenever she sees you now. you mess with her hair and allow her to clutch onto you, the same time kiri sits on your other side and nudges you by the shoulder, “you doing okay?”

you nod with an appreciative smile. having kiri felt like breathing the same air, sometimes. she empathises how you feel the most and you’re eternally grateful of her presence.

“yeah, just... had one of those moments, y’know?”

she nods, leaning against you with a hum, “mhm.”

the three of you sit quietly together on the branch, now watching the three monkeys challenging each other to swing the highest or who can do the most flips?!

surely not you, little bro.

i’m not that little! spider! back me up!

sorry, lo’ak. i have to side with the big bro on this one.

you all suck!

as you relax in the hold of those who care and love you, your eyes meet with one’s gaze who softens almost instantly upon contact. there’s this spark in neteyam’s eyes, even when his attention is divided to the people he’s currently interacting with, he never fails to show you that the second your eyes meet, he’s devoting all his attention on you.

that’s all the reminder you need that you do have people here that matter. that make you feel loved... that make you feel seen. that’s all you need.))

[sacredcyber]

I Think I Like When It Rains

A soft smutty SilverV oneshot, 3k words. A/n: fem V from a corpo background, nsfw.

The long trek towards her northside apartment was unusually silent and painfully dull. Normally Johnny's comments would be firing at a rapid pace. When can they start looking for Alt? Let him take control just for an evening, take a smoke break. Instead she found herself walking through night city alone, in the rain, shooting off random questions hoping it’d rouse him from whatever recess of her mind he’d hidden himself in. Nothing. No answers at all, not even a huff of frustration.

‘It’s fine.’ She thinks to herself. ‘It’ll be like that when he’s gone.’ And that thought brings out a burn in her throat. Something pained and sharp has burrowed itself in her chest and made itself home. V stops short at the corner about a block away, she leans against a light post and sighs.

‘You’re being weird again.’

It’s her voice but it’s not. The sudden realization dawns on her that Johnny could read her thoughts. It makes her feel exposed. She quickly runs the block home in the downpour, the rain soaking through her too big tank top and leather pants.

After fidgeting with the broken card reader, V stumbles inside her small apartment. The pink neon lighting and blue beaded curtains make it feel so homey, so lived in. She remembered the day she bought it, Johnny berated her about her lack of taste. V wanted to tell him about her luxury condo she had to give up when she got sacked, but a sudden wave of shame had washed over her and she simply answered with a small hum in agreement. Arasaka seems like a lifetime ago. Another life, another person, another V. Her Watson home was too painful to stay in after Jackie died, the memories of the both of them shooting the shit, Misty coming by after her shift with tacos and yakitori were all things of the past. The northside apartment had become like a sanctuary, she could be at peace here in this small shoebox of a room.

Just her, Nibbles and her tapeworm.

As she crosses the threshold, a friendly meow greets her. Nibbles jumps off the arcade cabinet and rolls on her back exposing her equally bald tummy. V chuckles and closes the door behind her, as she bends down to bless the feline with a generous scratch behind her ears, she can hear the familiar sound of Johnny’s static reappearing.

He groans and makes his way over towards the armory. V pretends not to notice him, not to be excited he’s left whatever shell he was in earlier. Instead she fishes out a pack of cat food for nibbles and walks over towards a small porcelain bowl.

Johnny immediately moves away and heads over to the bed, she watches him out of the corner of her eye. He’s a bit tense, wound up. As if he could sense her questioning gaze he simply lights up a cigarette. “I’m tired.”

“You’re tired?” V asks incredulously. Johnny’s static form stutters a bit as he shifts himself onto her small bed. “Well actually you’re tired. I’m just feeling it too.” He mumbles. V makes a face, this fucking guy. “I thought engrams don’t need to sleep?” She stands and walks over towards him, his legs planted firmly on the linoleum floor. A heavy sigh escapes his lips. “You really gonna fight me over this? Fuck V...” The bite he normally has in his voice is mostly gone, Johnny sounds exhausted, miserable. She sighs, the day's events hadn’t been easy on them, the sudden rainstorm plus the non working fast travel pods around the city only added to her frustration. If only her car wasn’t in the shop, she could have just driven home.

Nope, it was just her trudging through the rain. Now she’s home, dripping wet and muscles aching. V sighs, there’s no fight in her, hell she’s not even hungry. All she wants is a hot shower and sleep. “You can sleep with me tonight.” She mumbles. Johnny looks up as V begins to turn away, “ I know you don’t need to but…”

“But what?” He asks, ready to tease her. “Someone’s eager to get me into bed.” He observes her as she slips her boots off.

“You seem…I don’t know…off? Quiet maybe.” She says before disappearing into the bathroom. Johnny scoffs, before he knows it he’s in the bathroom ready to argue.

“As if I-“ he begins before he stops himself. V stands topless in front of the shower, her wet samurai top already on the ground, her hands on her pants zipper. She raises an eyebrow. “What? Never seen tits before?” She turns around and begins to remove her pants, Johnny knows he should fuck off right now, give her some kind of privacy. But something’s compelling him to stay, see what happens, V doesn’t seem to mind it.

“Wasn’t expecting to see yours.” He chuckles. “Didn’t know my little corpo rat was an exhibitionist is all.” V turns the shower on trying not to focus on the “my little corpo rat” comment, he notices the way her breasts jiggle a bit, they’re bigger than he’s used to, Johnnys always had a penchant for petite women, V’s musculature had been a bit of a turn off for him, recently he’s been rethinking that.

She turns to face him and something in Johnny’s chest tightens. She’s bare, with nothing but his tags on. Something about that does it for him, maybe it’s her lack of aggression or just how intimate it feels. “Not gonna take those off too?” He lifts his cybernetic hand and places his fingertip onto the tag, V can feel slight pressure there. She cocks her head a bit, “I’ve never taken them off.” She says following his wandering hand as it travels from the tags to her navel. She can feel him and she doesn’t know how or why, but she doesn’t want to think about it. She doesn’t want to ruin it.

V makes a motion with her hand, “You coming in?” Johnny is a bit stunned, he’s not used to V being so nonchalant about contact. Normally she’s very cagey about him being near her. He doesn’t blame her, especially since their meeting was terrible. He’s conflicted, but the need for touch is overwhelming. “You want me to?” He asks, hesitation sprinkles his words. V nods. ‘Yes’ she thinks and so he follows.

V stands under the hot shower, the steam feels so comforting, like a warm blanket hugging her. As she stretches she can feel her back bump into something solid. As she reaches back Johnny catches her hand, his ganic hand gently caresses hers. She hesitates but turns to face him, he’s there naked as the day he was born, only with the addition of that familiar blue static. She studies him, he’s definitely handsome, not that she wanted to admit that but something about his little grin tells her he already knows that. Her eyes wander from his dark brown eyes to his sloped nose down to his happy trail, she lifts her head to face him, not wanting to focus on the obvious.

“You look like you got questions.” He murmurs. V looks for her shampoo. “Can you feel the water?” He nods. “Yeah, feels nice, I guess it feels nice to you.” He moves to stand under the shower head, it merely goes through him but V supposes it adds to the experience.

She grabs the coconut shampoo and begins to work up a lather. Her back is towards him, “Where did you go?” She asked. Johnny notices a slight hitch in her voice, he watches as she scrubs her scalp. He steps in and replaces her hands with his, lightly massaging the product into her hair. “Can’t exactly go anywhere…” he avoids the question. V steps under the shower head, her back pressed against Johnny's chest. He watches as the shampoo runs over her breasts down her toned stomach. His hands move from her scalp to the sides of her waist, before he grabs her and presses her firmly against him, his mouth pressed against her ear.

V presses harder against him, he feels so real, so solid against her skin. The only difference is the lingering fuzziness he gives off, maybe it’s the static. “You…didn’t answer my question.” She manages to mumble out, Johnny simply hums “I’m here now.” His metal hand traces down from her collarbone in between her breasts. V wants to prod him, demand he tell her why he left her alone with her thoughts but his touches are so reverent, so gentle.

“I was angry.”

She turns to face him, Johnny’s brown eyes scan her face, he looks vulnerable, soft, uncomfortable. She grabs his ganic hand and presses her face against it, his thumb strokes her cheek. “Did I do something?” He simply shakes his head, everything pisses Johnny off to some extent. The shitty weather, his PTSD, the way Fuckin’ Takemura and River give her those looks when she’s not paying attention. V used to piss him off too, her selflessness, the way she’d always get involved in shit that didn’t concern her, her kindness. Her ability to just give parts of herself to anyone in need.

Now he’s before her, a starved man seeking it out for himself. He hesitates and leans down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. V slowly allows herself to be soft, to be open for him. Love isn’t something you come across in Night City, it’s something you buy for an hour or two. But this isn’t that, this is something else, something that’s needed by both of them.

His kisses are rough, they’re desperate for dominance, to lay a claim on her. She can feel how needy he is, the way his hands press into her bruised back, how his fingers find those sore spots and rub into them. V lets out small pained cries, as she opens her mouth Johnny simply probes deeper. He wants all her sounds and cries, all of them. The good and the bad.

“V…” he whispers, her bitten lips skimming over his down to his neck, she bites into him like forbidden fruit and such as original sin she knows she’s crossed over into temptation. That pained thing that burrowed into her earlier is now growing between her ribs and it flutters so gently she can barely breathe.

How strange.

Johnny grabs V’s face and pulls it to meet his gaze. He wants to see her, needs to see her face when he’s worshiping her. Her eyes are hazed over, glazed in want and desperate for release. He plants more swollen kisses on her lips. “Let’s go to bed.” He whispers hungrily. V turns off the shower and grabs a towel. “Let’s go to bed?” She begins to towel herself off. Johnny simply grins and reappears sitting on the bed, he can see her though the beaded curtains and even though he’s mapped out her curves and scars with his fingers it’s still exciting to see only bits of her behind the blue plastic beads. Like a private show meant only for him, something no one else can have.

Because how could they? No one knows her like he does, no one ever could.

V emerges from the bathroom, her hips sway a bit as she closes in on Johnny’s personal space. “Sit on the bed.” He whispers in that whiskey’d tone. She does as instructed and immediately he appears on the floor in front of her, kneeling. Johnny’s not used to being subservient, but it feels so natural with V, so easy. Like he doesn’t have to be that “rowdy asshole rockerboy” everyone wanted. He’s simply Johnny, touch starved, pent up, needy Johnny.

He slowly trails his fingers over V’s thighs, it makes her shiver under his touch. “Know how frustrating it is watching you play nice with a pig and a corpo dog?” His tone is dangerous with a veneer of playfulness. V raises herself up on her elbows, she watches as Johnny kneads her inner thighs.

“Has Johnny Silverhand always been the jealous type?”

He chuckles, “Possessive might be the better word.” He spreads her legs out further and places a wet kiss on her clit. Her hips buck into his face a bit. “Fuck…” she gasps out. Johnny chuckles “Not yet, I wanna have some fun first.”

His ganic fingers circle her entrance, she’s already wet and dewy but he’s never been one to half ass eating someone out. He doesn’t want to rush anything. “Thinkin’ real hard down there, silverhand?” V’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. Her half lidded stare and the way she runs her fingers through his tangled hair makes him feel alive again.

“I need you to ride my face.” Before V can protest or tease, Johnny’s already teleported under her. He’s taken the liberty to spread her legs as she precariously balances over his face. She holds on to the wall in front of her. “I-I’ve never done thi-“ Johnny licks a swipe over her clit and she shudders.

“Just relax.” He says as plants a tender kiss on her entrance. “Don’t think, just do.” He presses her wet cunt onto his lips as he moves her hips in rhythm. V holds onto the wall in front of her trying to set a pace for herself, worried she might hurt him.

‘You won’t, trust me. Ride my fuckin face like a cowgirl.’

Before she can even ask what the hell that means, his tongue makes its way inside her. “Oh fuck yes…” she moans as her hips move against him, her clit brushing up against his nose and moustache. Johnny holds her down even tighter against his face, sucking and tongue fucking his way through his host. He wants to make her see stars, to become so undone by his mouth alone that even after death, she’s ruined by him.

“Johnny…john- I’m gonna…” her hips swivel in that familiar way, her pussy tightens around his tongue, she’s looking for it, searching for release. He removes his tongue and replaces it with his fingers relentlessly pounding into her. “Come on V just let it go baby…” he holds her hips and presses his lips onto her stomach as she fucks herself above him. “Goddamn…fuck yes yessss…” she sighs as her climax washes over her.

V wobbles a bit as her legs give out on her. Thankfully Johnny teleports and reappears to help steady herself. She’s on the precipice of sleep, yet it doesn’t stop her from trying to crawl into his lap. He laughs a bit “what are you doin’?” V presses up against him, his cock nestled between her puffy lips.

“I wanna sleep on you like this.” She moves her hips and positions his cock at her entrance. Johnny watches as V slides herself on his thick cock, his girth makes it sting so deliciously. Johnny grins and lays back in bed with V content and filled on his chest. He spreads her legs out over him and slowly fucks into her. He throbs with each stroke.

“This how you want me inside you every night?” He asks, his lips hovering over her ear as he caresses her sore lower back with his metal hand. “Get home from running around this city? Fixing everyone’s fuckin’ problems…” He whispers in her ear as he continues to slowly pump himself inside her. Agonizingly slow.

“That’s what you want right? You want someone to take care of you too.” He grips her hips and plunges himself deep into her core. V calls out for him, begging him to go faster but he relents. “Nah, I wanna savor this, wanna make sure it only fits me from now on.” He bites her harshly and with intent. Savoring the wet sounds they share between them.

“How do you think people would feel? Knowin’ Night City’s golden girl is getting dicked down by the dirty old man living in her head?” He punctuates his question with another harsh thrust. V mewls against him and sobs “t-they wouldn’t….get it!” His pace begins to pick up as he holds her down and fucks into her used hole.

“That’s right, they wouldn’t…but we get it, right baby?” His forehead touches hers as he continues to fuck into her.

“Y-yeah…”

“Yeah? Because we belong to each other. From the day I met you, you’ve been mine, all fuckin’ mine…” he grips her throat with his metal hand and keeps a brutal pace. It’s a strange feeling, the agony and ecstasy of relishing in unhinged coitus, of bearing your ugliness out on the same table you fuck your lover on. It’s liberating because he knows what she’s thinking. There’s no guessing games, he doesn’t feel any fear, no hesitation, just complete and utter synchronicity.

Johnny knows he’s needs it and fuck if V also needs this as well. So he fucks her hard into completion, into submission, into a promise. A silent accord, for as long as they have each other. To have and to hold, to fuck and to kill, however the hell people pledge themselves to each other in this day and age. His very soul belongs to her.

The silence between them is comforting, only the sounds of rain drizzling outside and nibbles playing with the beaded curtains next to the minibar. V slides over to lay on his ganic arm, his heartbeat, his warmth, feels real. She shuts her eyes tight and holds onto him for dear life, as if he’d disappear if she let him go.

A whisper floats through her mind, “I’m not going anywhere.” He promises. He can feel her smile and press herself closer to him, less out of fear and more out of need. He lays and watches the ceiling fade from view, letting sleep take him for the first time in over 50 years.

[megxplryxb]

Tainted Love

Pairings: Steve x fem!reader

Disclaimer: Gif is not mine.

Warnings: friends to complicated to lovers, jealousy, angst, fluff, smut (a little bit of everything, really)

The smell of alcohol, cigarettes and guys that were wearing far too much aftershave, lingered in the air as you walked through the halls of Steve Harrington’s house. Floors already sticky with spilled beverages and the downstairs bathroom currently being occupied by people who sounded like they were definitely doing more than just making out.

You were late to the party, getting stuck with the evening shift at your new job at a bar downtown, having decided to leave Family Video a few weeks prior. The last thing you wanted to do tonight was party and the last place you really wanted to be was at Steve’s but it was Eddie’s birthday and you couldn’t let your friend down, making you promise not to bail on him when he met you for lunch earlier in the week. Your friends had all noticed the distance you’d put between yourself and them in recent weeks, Eddie questioning you about it more than the rest, not buying your bullshit about being busy all the time. He was right, it was bullshit but at the moment it was better for you not to be around.

Your heart was racing, stomach in knots, as you held on to the bannister making your way up stairs to a vacant bathroom to change in to your outfit for the night ahead, successfully managing to avoid your friends until you looked some bit presentable. Your body immediately tensing as you walked by Steve’s bedroom, flashbacks to the secret night of passion you had shared with him a little over a month ago after a heated argument about his decision to get back together with Nancy Wheeler having spent almost three years apart. You weren’t sure why you were so angry, maybe you should have just pretended to been happy for him but after Nancy broke his heart in the past, leaving you to pick up the pieces, it was hard not to feel a little pissed off.

“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” Steve pleaded as you looked at him in utter disbelief. You'd driven straight to his house after work to confront him when Robin had told you that Steve and Nancy were giving their relationship another go now that she and Jonathan had officially broken up.

“Do you really want me to go there Steve? She broke your fucking heart and I don’t want to watch that happen again.” You defended, arms folded defiantly as he sat on the side of his bed, a hand through his hair, frustrated at your lack of enthusiasm.

“I think It’ll be different this time. We’re older now.” He muttered, not seeming all that certain of his own words.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” You asked as your friend shot you a hurtful look.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Steve raised an eye brow, standing up to face you while you held your ground.

“You’re not that stupid, Harrington, you know exactly what I mean. Don’t get pissy at me for saying you’re making a huge mistake when you’re not even sure getting back with her is a smart idea.” You stated. Steve's eye widened, an irritated look on his face.

“I never said that!”

“You didn’t have to...” And he didn't. Because you knew him better than anyone, sensing his hesitation a mile away.

“You just never liked Nance that’s what this is about.” Steve huffed, shaking his head, turning away from you as you grabbed his arm, pulling him back to face you.

“No I don’t like her, I’ve never liked her. I hate what she put you through and I hate her for treating you like shit and I think you deserve better than Nancy fucking Wheeler but this isn’t about how I feel, is it Steve? This is about you not being totally sure Nancy is what you really want, because if you were so damn sure that she was the one, you wouldn’t care about anyone else’s opinion!" You fought back, your tone a little more intense than you'd intended but Steve was close now, jaw clenched, frustration building inside of him at your stubbornness to accept his decision.

“I don't fucking care about anyone’s opinion!" He yelled as you rolled your eyes, scoffing slightly.

"Oh really? So why'd I have to hear about it from Robin instead of you?" You challenged.

"Because I knew you'd act this way! Christ, you're my best friend, I should be able to tell you anything!"

"Well I'm sorry for being the only one with enough balls to tell you you're being a fucking idiot, Steve! Go ahead, by all means, go back to playing the perfect happy couple you were three years ago but when it all goes to shit because I know it will, don't come knocking on my door because I'm not going through this with you again!" You cried.

"You're acting like such a fucking brat!" Steve stated as you pushed past him, not wanting to argue with him anymore.

"Bite me, Harrington." You spat, opening his bedroom door to leave, having it immediately shut by Steve again, finding yourself trapped between his strong arms.

"You're driving me fucking crazy!" He breathed, face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin.

"Then let me go!" You argued, trying to push his arms away from the door as you locked eyes with him. "Is that what you really want? Cause I don't think it is." He whispered, removing one hand from the door to lift your chin.

"Steve..." You whimpered pathetically, feeling a sudden ache between your legs as he licked his lips, smirking at the change in your demeanour. The feeling of anger between you being replaced by something far more intense.

"What do you want, huh? Tell me?" He begged, his own pants tightening, watching you bite on your bottom lip nervously.

"Please sweetheart, I need to hear it."

"I want you."

"What do want from me?" He whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as he gazed at you, lust filling his eyes that you'd never seen before. You paused for a brief moment, contemplating how to respond to your best friend, knowing the dangerous line you were about to cross. It's not as if you hadn't thought about Steve in a sexual way before, fuck, you'd be lying if you said you hadn't gotten yourself off thinking about him a couple of times before. He was fucking gorgeous after all and you were only human. You knew it was a bad idea, knew what the repercussions would be but it was hard to care with the way Steve was looking at you, pushing his body against yours as his erection pressed in to your stomach.

Fuck it.

"I want you to fuck me." You declared with such confidence and assertion that you swore you heard a growl escape Steve's throat before his lips crashed on to yours.

It was an embrace full of passion, anger, frustration and urgency as Steve pushed you against the door, grabbing your hands, placing them over your head as he devoured your lips and neck. Biting at your exposed skin, carelessly leaving marks as you moaned in both pain and pure bliss, tugging at Steve's hair, letting him know you wanted more.

"Holy shit." He muttered in to your neck.

The weight of his body against yours felt so right, your movements so in sync, as if you'd done this a million times before but this feeling was so new, so addictive already and he wasn’t even inside of you yet. Clothes being torn off backs, falling to the floor, buttons being undone, belts unbuckled, gasping for air in between wet kisses, afraid the other would disappear if you separated for too long. Once you were down to your bra and panties, you felt Steve's hands grab the meat of your ass, pulling you closer to to him, lifting you with ease, instructing you to wrap your legs around his back as he carried you to his bed. He pushed you in to the mattress, falling on top of you, tossing your underwear over his shoulder, kissing you again, leaning his forehead on yours as he settled himself between your legs. Reaching over to the drawer in his night stand, shuffling a little before finding the square plastic foil, ripping it open with his mouth, glancing at you for permission before he took the condom from the wrapper.

“Are- fuck, are you sure this is…are you sure you want to do this?” He asked his voice husky with desire as he looked down at you, watching your fingers sneak between the band of his boxers, pulling them down, to spring his cock free. You couldn’t help but slightly giggle at your friend, ever the perfect gentleman.

“Steve…please, just fuck me.” You begged, cupping his face gently as he happily nodded, sliding the condom on to his hard cock. Finally, entering you, his dick filling you up with such force that you dug your nails in to his back. It certainly wasn’t your first time having sex, but with how big Steve was, it definitely felt like it was.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, throwing his head back with the sheer pleasure he was receiving from being inside you.

The night was a mixture of raw sex and gentle love making. It was slow and romantic, it was fast and fiery and it wasn’t until you woke up naked in Steve’s arms the next morning, legs still tangled, that you remembered what had led you to end up in his bed in the first place.

Nancy Wheeler.

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, looking at Steve who was still fast asleep, marks on his back and neck, condoms on his bedside table and your clothes scattered in every part of the room. You slid out of his grasp, although somewhat unwillingly, trying to find pieces of your clothing, praying you hadn’t left anything behind, quietly leaving Steve’s room once you were satisfied you had enough on to make your escape with whatever dignity you had left.

Once you got back to your car, realisation hit that not only had you fucked your best friend for the first time but you had fucked your best friend while he was in a relationship.

That was the last time you had been in Steve’s house. It was also the last time you had spoken to Steve, feeling too embarrassed to be around him after what happened between you and the fact that he remained with Nancy after you slept together, told you it hadn’t meant anything to him and that hurt more than you ever wanted it to. So, you found a new job, worked your notice and left without saying goodbye to him, swearing Robin to secrecy about your departure until you were gone.

Now here you were, weeks later, standing in front of a bathroom mirror, applying your make up and throwing your new dress on across from the room he had fucked you senseless in weeks prior because although you weren’t ready to see him, a little part of you wanted to show Steve Harrington exactly what he had been missing.

The walls were vibrating from the sound of loud music as you walked back down the stairs. The smell of weed instantly hitting you as you reached the bottom step, making you dizzy. It was Eddie’s birthday after all, most of his friends were total stoners, so it didn’t necessarily surprise you when the scent hit your nostrils. Your stomach filled with nervous butterflies as you approached the kitchen, hearing Robin and Eddie’s voices before you could see them, pushing your way through the crowd of people to get to the birthday boy.

“There’s my girl!” Eddie squealed with excitement, running towards you, picking you up with ease and tossing you over his shoulder, spinning you around. You were certain people could see straight up with your dress with the way he was handling you.

“Eddie, put me down!” You giggled as he conceded, hugging you tightly, handing you a drink.

“Sorry, I’m just so happy you made it. I, for sure thought you were gonna ditch me.” He teased.

“I’m a woman of my word, Munson. I told you I’d be here, besides someone has to be your wing woman now that Robin’s all loved up with Vickie.” You joked, making him laugh out loud.

“Honestly, I’m really glad you’re here.” He confessed, wrapping himself around you again. “Happy Birthday, you beautiful man.”

“Thank you pretty lady.” He said, kissing your cheek, arm still draped around your shoulder as Robin ran towards you, squeezing you tight. "Oh my god, you're finally hereeee!" She slurred, leaning her head on your shoulder.

"I sure am, you feeling ok Robs?" You asked, rubbing her head. "Think I'm a little bit drunk." She frowned as Eddie handed her a water.

"Just a little?" You chuckled as she stuck her tongue out, slurping down the water. "Where's Vickie?" You questioned as she rolled her eyes, huffing. "Babysitting her bratty little cousins."

"Aww, do you miss her?" You teased. "N-Not as much as I m-miss you in work, sucks since you left. Steve's been in s-such a shitty mood lately." She revealed as you shifted uncomfortably, not going unnoticed by Eddie.

"I miss you too." You confessed.

"HEY DINGUS LOOK WHO'S HERE!" Robin yelled, almost deafening you as Steve emerged from the living room with Nancy by his side, eyes widening, immediately locking with yours.

"Hey, stranger." He smiled, unsure whether to embrace you or not. Nancy, making his decision for him as she intertwined her fingers with his, keeping him in place, barely looking at you.

"Hey." You smiled back, taking a sip of your drink.

"How've you, uh been?" He asked, your fingers pulling your hair behind your ear. "Yeah, I've been good. You?"

"Yeah, me too-"

"Oh god I'm gonna puke!" Robin gawked, putting a hand over her mouth, running towards the bathroom. You'd never been more thankful for how lousy Robin was at handling her drink, giving you a reason to bail on the awkward conversation with Steve. "I better go, hold her hair." You said, turning on your heels, following your friend to the toilet.

An hour had passed and you'd finally managed to convince Robin to crash in one of the upstairs bedrooms, clearly having drank way too much. Once you had made sure she was comfortable, placing a bucket beside her, you made your way back down to join the party again.

"She ok?" Steve muttered, leaning against the living room door frame, as if he was waiting for you.

"Yeah, she's fine. Unconscious in your spare room, I hope that's alright?"

"Of course it is, like you even have to ask." He reassured, eyes never leaving yours as a silence fell between you again.

"Hey, do you think we could-" Steve began to speak, being interrupted by Nancy, who wrapped herself around him. Steve clearly annoyed by her presence as you walked away to get another drink. Your heart hurt seeing them together, finding it hard to breathe with the pain in your chest mixed with anger and guilt. Nancy was his girlfriend, not you. She’d done nothing wrong. It was you who had fucked her boyfriend, so why did it feel like he was betraying you?

"So you and Harrington huh? When did that happen?" Eddie whispered, sneaking up behind you, almost causing you to spill your drink.

"Fuck, Eddie. You scared the shit out of me." You said, lightly shoving him away as he laughed.

"Don't try change the subject, beautiful. Tell me whats going on?" He pleaded, no force in his voice, just concern.

"Are you high?" You quizzed as he shook his head. "Nope, not even a little. So don't try telling me I'm seeing things cause I cut could the tension between you two with a knife."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You said, refusing to meet his glance, instead downing your drink and grabbing another.

"No? Cause he's been looking at you like a love sick puppy since you walked in to this place, hasn't been able to keep his pretty brown eyes off of you." He grinned as you shook your head. "Yeah, sure." You scoffed sarcastically.

"So how long have you been sleepin' with him?" He quizzed as you shot him a look that said, shut up and be quiet.

"I'm not sleeping with him!" You asserted as he gave you an unconvinced look. Eddie wasn’t stupid and you were a shitty liar. You sighed heavily in defeat, knowing he didn't believe you. "Christ, ok, yes, I slept with him. But it only happened once- weeks ago and it meant nothing, it was a total mistake." You explained as Eddie placed a hand over his mouth, hanging on to your every word.

"Shit, so that's why you left the video store. Does anyone else know?" He questioned.

"Nope."

"Was he back with Wheeler when it happened?"

"Yep." You said, guilt hitting you again.

"You naughty girl! Was he good? How big was he?" He laughed as you pushed him away playfully.

"It's not funny Eddie, I feel like a fucking slut." You admitted, hands covering your face.

"Hey, why are you being so hard on yourself? We all know he doesn't love her, you're the girl he's supposed to be with. Everyone knows that." Eddie stated as you laughed hysterically.

"Yeah, right. Steve doesn't feel that way."

"Want me to prove it?" He smirked, an evil grin on his face.

"How?" You challenged.

"m'gonna kiss you obviously." He shrugged.

"You're joking right?"

"Hey, it's my birthday! You can't say no to me on my birthday! Actually, that sounds creepy, I would never force you to kiss me but come on, let me prove my point!" He pouted as you laughed at his puppy dog eyes, giving in to his request as he smirked excitedly, trying to think of the perfect opportunity.

A half an hour later, everyone gathered around the kitchen to sing "Happy Birthday" to Eddie as Gareth and Jeff presented him with a stack of "special brownies" candles stuck in the baked goods. Eddie wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close as Steve watched you from the other side of the room.

"Get ready pretty lady, he's gonna freak the fuck out and don't forget to make it convincing." Eddie whispered, before blowing out his candles, turning in such a way that he could see Steve's reaction.

"Happy birthday you idiot." You muttered, as he cupped your face, lips pressing lightly against your own as you wrapped an arm around his neck. Whistles and cat calls echoing all around the room as Eddie slid his tongue in to your mouth. His eyes opening a little to see Steve gritting his teeth, staring straight at you, looking like he was about to blow a fuse. You broke the kiss as Eddie howled with excitement as his friends cheered him on, watching Steve down the last of his beer, a hurt expression on his face as he walked off leaving Nancy confused and alone. "Told ya." Eddie winked as you continued to celebrate with your friend, trying to keep your mind off of Steve.

A little while later, you decided to check in on Robin, noticing she hadn't reappeared at the party. Seeing she was still fast asleep, snoring her brains out in the same position you had left her in, you shut the door again, leaving her in peace.

"Screw you Steve!" Nancy shouted, emerging from Steve's room, visibly upset and angry as she stomped back downstairs, slamming the front door. You bit your lip, knowing you should have returned to the party but your legs were already walking towards his bedroom, knocking on his door as he sat on his bed, hands holding his head.

"Nance, I told you to- oh, sorry, I thought-"

"It's ok, it's just me." You interrupted, shutting the door behind you.

"Just you." He muttered. "Munson not with you?" He questioned, a little hint of bitterness in his voice.

"No, why would he be? I came up to check on Robin." You explained but you knew he wasn't even listening. "Steve, are you ok?" You asked as he shrugged.

"Well, m'pretty sure Nancy hates me, not that I blame her or anything and the girl I thought has been my best friend since we were little kids has been acting like a complete stranger around me for the better part of a month, so yeah m'doing fucking great." He said sarcastically as you lowered your head.

"Steve...I-"

"Did I really mean so little to you that you just left without saying goodbye?" He asked as you frowned.

"It wasn't like that." You assured.

"Which time, exactly? The time you quit the video store without telling me or the time we slept together and you bailed before I even woke up?" He questioned as your cheeks began to flush. You weren't sure if either of you was ever going to bring that up but Steve had just thrown it out on the table without warning.

"What do you want me to say?" You asked, seeing the pain in his eyes.

"I want you to tell me what's going on with you? I want you tell me why you're running away from me-" He said, standing up to meet your gaze.

"m'not running away from you."

"Then why does it feel like I'm losing you?" He breathed, cupping your face as you rested your hands on his arms.

"m'not yours to lose, Steve." You whispered, as his hands fell back to his sides.

"So, you're Munson's girl now?" Steve asked as you shrugged your shoulders. "That was just Eddie being an idiot. You should go after Nancy, she looked really upset?" You said changing the subject Steve letting out a sarcastic laugh, sitting back down on the bed again. "m'the last person she wants to see right now."

"What happened?" You said, taking a seat beside him.

"She asked some questions that she didn't really like the answers to." Steve sighed heavily.

"What kind of questions?" You swallowed as he shrugged.

"I guess, she noticed that I hadn't exactly been myself the last couple of weeks since you got a new job, then she said she saw the look on my face when Eddie kissed you earlier and then she asked me if I had feelings for you..."

"You obviously told her no, right?" You assumed as he shook his head.

"Not exactly."

"Why not?" You asked, your stomach in knots again.

"Cause it would've been a lie." He admitted as you locked eyes with him.

"Oh."

"Oh? That's all you have to say?"

"Steve, you don't know what you're saying. I'm sure Nancy-" You stood up, being interrupted by your friend "This isn't about Nancy and you know it! This is about me and you and how we feel about each other. It was over between me and Nancy the minute I kissed you!"

"But it wasn't over was it, Steve? Cause you stayed with her even after you fucked me!" You shouted, pushing him away from you.

"Because you fucking left me!" He yelled, grabbing you but not hurting you, pain in his eyes as you began to cry. "I was ready to tell Nancy it was over the night we slept together because I finally knew what I wanted! Then I wake up the next morning and you're not there, I go to work and you're fucking gone!"

"I was scared Steve!"

"Of what?"

"Of you, waking up and realising what happened between us was a mistake! I wasn't ready for you to pick her over me. I couldn't stand the thought of working with you, knowing that I would have to listen to you talk about her, see you with her- so, I slipped out of your bed and gave my notice to Keith because what I felt for you had gone way past friendship and it fucking terrified me!" You admitted, tears streaming down your face. Steve immediately moving to comfort you but again you shoved him back. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, as Steve grabbed your arms, trying your best to fight out of his grip but he was too strong. Easily overpowering you, backing you in to the wall trying to calm you down.

"Baby, stop! Stop pushing me away, please." He begged, cupping your face, pleading with you to look at him.

"Why, Steve?"

"Because I'm falling in love with you, that's why!" He confessed as you froze.

"If you want to carry on pretending you don't feel the same about me then go ahead, go back downstairs and make out with Munson some more or you can finally be honest with yourself and stop running from me. Cause I know exactly what I want now and it's you. It's always been you and it's always going to be you and yeah it's scary, believe me I'm scared too but I'm here and I'm all in on this, on us. So, it's your choice, what's it gonna be?" Steve asked, walking towards his door, opening it for you to make your decision.

You chewed on your lip, slowly walking towards the door, Steve keeping his eyes on the ground, knowing the risk he had just taken by giving you an ultimatum. You held the door knob, standing in the doorway as Steve hung his head, waiting for you to walk out on him for the third time in several weeks. Your heart was pounding, lips tugged to one side as all the scenarios rushed through your mind at once. What if it didn’t work? What if it was a mistake? What if you lost him for good? There were so many questions you didn’t know the answers to but what you did know for certain was that you loved the boy in front of you with all of your heart and right now, that’s all that really mattered.

"You better not break my damn heart, Steve Harrington, because I'm so fucking in love with you." You whispered, not even managing to close the door before Steve had lifted you off of the ground, crashing his lips on to yours as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, never wanting to let him go.

"Man, I love it when a plan comes together!" Eddie squealed excitedly, peeking in to Steve's room, seeing you in a passionate embrace. "So who's the better kisser?" Eddie teased, running once he noticed the glare on Steve's face before you broke in to fits of laughter, closing the door to pick up where you had left off.