#it’s next Saturday in a week help me actual god. God if you’re out there.

[kefka-palazzo]

been working on a piece for the exhibition all day i’m about to crumble into dust

[vampiefemme]

a/n: surprise! here’s a little somethin’ while i work on my next fics. mwah mwah happy saturday!

cw: 18+ as always, minors dni. sub!ellie, dom!reader, oral sex (e receiving), choking, tribbing, some…controlling aspects, multiple orgasms

ellie’s got it bad for you.

so bad, she doesn’t have it in her to be embarrassed when jesse and dina catch her staring at you in the middle of band practice, eyes glazed over, nodding along with whatever they’re saying even when she’s got nothing in her head but you you you.

it’s frustrating sometimes, what you do to her. she’s less efficient as a songwriter and guitar player—always casting glances at you in the middle of practice, chewing her lip till it damn near bleeds because it’ll keep her from making a mess of her boxer briefs. always picturing your pretty lips around her strap, you kneeling before her while she face-fucks you till you gag and choke. always tilting her head when you stand up from your seat beside her, going off to rifle through your purse for something, just praying she’ll get a glimpse at your panties when your skirt rides up.

when the rest of the band filters out and it’s just you two, she gets you in her lap, kissing you silly. you’re so perfect in her arms, smiling shyly when she pulls back and covers your face in chaste, adoring kisses.

���we should go,” you say, glancing at the clock on the wall. she frowns and you catch it, adding, “i really need to study, finals are next week.”

“you’re gonna kill ‘em, babe,” she assures you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. your cheeks go pink. she could eat you whole. “smartest girl i know. smartest person, actually.”

you giggle, a sound that makes ellie’s stomach flip. and then your expression shifts from carefree to hesitant, and she furrows her brows. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing, i’m sorry—i was gonna ask if you wanted to help me study? i have flash cards.”

ellie grins. “i can do flash cards.”

it’s not the first time ellie’s been at your house, but it is the first time she’s pulled into the driveway and noticed that your parents aren’t home. she casts a glance at you in the passenger’s seat while she pulls the keys from the ignition, but if you notice that she’s wondering about the lack of two mercedes in the driveway, you don’t let on. you give her one of those sickeningly sweet smiles and her heart hammers.

inside, you stop in the kitchen to fix a couple glasses of pink lemonade with twisty straws and fresh lemon slices, then lead her up the stairs to your bedroom. ellie tries (and fails) to avert her eyes from the place where your thigh-highs squish into the meat of your legs, the skin pooling out of the fabric good enough to eat. she has to think about the worst things to keep her cunt from throbbing. dead puppies, shit like that.

“i’m so stressed,” you confess as you open the door to your bedroom, ellie striding in behind you.

“why, princess? you’ll do great.” she takes her glass of lemonade when you offer it, sips from the straw and beams at you.

your room suits you perfectly. all shades of white and pink, floral print everywhere, heart-shaped pillows, cute bunny plushies organized carefully on the bed. it smells like sugar cookies and your perfume. ellie watches you locate your study materials, then sort through them till you find the necessary flash cards. she starts looking through them while you climb onto the bed, your skirt riding up to expose a new sliver of your thighs. if there is a god, he’s got it out for ellie today.

“come here, el,” you pout, holding out your hands for her.

“don’t be impatient, now.” she joins you on the bed despite her better judgment. looks down at the flash cards and struggles to read the first one because her blood is rushing south at a dizzying rate.

“uh—eukaryotic cells.”

“cells which have a nucleus enclosed within the nuclear membrane.”

ellie gapes at you. “okay, smarty pants, you got it. prokaryotic cells?”

you answer and she shuffles through to the next card, continuing to prompt your spot-on definitions until it becomes clear that you’re more than ready for your final. it only takes five minutes to make it through the entire stack of cards. and then you’re asking her to kiss you.

“baby,” she mutters, leaning over the side of the bed to set the flash cards onto the floor, “i’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

just like every other time, your mouth tastes like heaven. sweet from the pink lemonade, your tongue dances over hers, soft moans leaving your lips for her to swallow eagerly. the two of you have made out more times than ellie can count on both hands, but it never leads any further. something always comes up—you have to get to bed, dinner’s ready downstairs, things like that. more often than not, you stop because ellie feels like she’s going to lose control of herself and scare you away.

but this time, it’s different.

your hands, soft and warm, skate up ellie’s tattooed arms. your perfectly manicured nails rake through her hair. your eyes are blown nearly black with lust when you pull away, staring up at ellie like you’re silently begging to be fucked.

“ellie,” you whisper, frustrated by the sliver of mattress that separates the two of you.

“yeah, yeah, angel, i’ve got you.” she closes the gap, climbing between your spread legs until she’s hovering over you. she nudges her nose against your cheekbone. “so pretty underneath me.”

and god, you are so pretty underneath her. white off-the-shoulder top skewed from her touches, lips swollen, soft locks of hair splayed around your head. that look in your eyes that says i’m yours, please take me. she wants to hear you scream her name.

the lewd, wet sounds of your make-out sesh go right to her cunt; she doesn’t even realize she’s grinding down against you until she feels your hips move in response, in search of friction. the sensation draws a ragged moan from her, and then she’s grabbing at your thighs with a touch that will certainly bruise. you won’t be wearing a skirt this short tomorrow.

“take this off,” you breathe when you pull back from the heated kiss. you’re tugging at her tattered band tee. “and your pants.”

a surprised huff of laughter leaves her lips. “whoa there, sweetheart. you sure?”

her eyes find yours. she’s just as turned on as you are, but she can still stop while she’s ahead. now, if you get her down to her boxers? that might not be so easy to come back from.

you stare back at her, unblinking. “i’m sure.”

sitting back on her heels, ellie keeps her eyes on you while she works her shirt up over her head. she revels in the way your eyes leave hers, only to admire the sight of her naked torso, her ample tits with dusty rose nipples. your tongue swipes over your lips. her clit twitches.

she has to get up to take her pants off, and when she does, she notices that you’re not making any efforts to undress yourself. she stops with her belt unbuckled, button undone, zipper pulled down. “what, i don’t get to see my girl naked?”

“only if you’re good,” you say with a wicked smile. it catches her off guard, hearing a comment like that from you, but it does encourage her to push her jeans down to her ankles.

when she gets back on the bed and kisses you again, you’re not as soft. not as pliable, like putty in her hands. no, you’re insistent—your tongue breaches her mouth almost instantly and you lick into her until he’s nearly panting. you’re sitting up in your disheveled clothing, holding her face and kissing her like you’re going to swallow her whole. given the fact that you’re usually the one on the receiving end of kisses like this, ellie’s surprised. she breaks the kiss and gives you a look - one you feign ignorance to.

“i’m—sorry, am i reading this wrong? i thought… aren’t you a virgin?”

you smile at her, eyes heavy-lidded. “oh, ellie, baby.”

the way you sound makes her go dizzy for a second. sultry, raspy, sexy. your voice must’ve dropped a couple octaves. you’re not a virgin, she suddenly realizes, not even close. not when you’re dipping your head into her neck and smothering her with hot, wet kisses, your hand moving to grope at the wet spot soaking through the thin fabric of her boxers, fingertips tracing heavy over the outline of her pussy. a moan leaves her lips before she can think to stifle it. worse, she bucks her hips up to chase your touch.

you suck your teeth. disapproving.

“eager, aren’t you?” you move to climb off the bed, kneeling beside it. the sensation of your fingers, skating right over the waistband of her boxers, makes her whimper. she whimpers.

“baby, you’re killing me,” she chokes out. you run a french-tipped nail over her sparse happy trail. she bites her lip.

“i know,” you respond, and your voice is still sickly sweet. “but i’ll take care of you, el. don’t you want that?”

she’s not sure what that means exactly, but she finds herself nodding quickly.

turns out that it means eating her pussy like a fucking porn star.

you’d ripped off her boxers in one swift motion, then spit a glob of saliva onto her flushed, aching clit. wasting no time at all, you’d slid your fingers through her cunt with the lubrication of your own spit, and finally, when she didn’t think it could get better, you’d put your mouth on her. and that’s what it’s been like for the past few minutes. you’re tongue-fucking her now, face buried so deep between her legs she can’t imagine how you’re not gasping and sputtering for air.

“jesus christ, babe,” she gasps, involuntarily thrusting her hips up. your tongue pushes further into the constricting heat of her cunt and she throws her head back, overcome with bliss. but then you’re pulling back, mouth leaving her soaked pussy. the loss makes her whine again.

“wh—what happened?” she’s dazed.

“you’re being a fucking brat,” you respond as you rub a hand over your mouth to wipe away the wetness. “can’t just let me eat you out, huh? have to push it. god, ellie.”

you sound genuinely pissed off, so she flushes red with embarrassment and gives you an apologetic look. “i’m so sorry, i couldn’t—”

“—couldn’t control yourself?”

she stares, mouth hanging open. you laugh, a humorless chuckle. and then you’re standing up, reaching under your skirt to slide your panties down your thighs.

“listen, baby,” you say as you step out of your underwear and move to straddle your girlfriend’s thighs. “if we’re gonna fuck, you need to learn how to control yourself. be a good girl for me. can you do that?”

in all of her daydreams about your first time having sex as a couple, she’d never imagined this.

“yes,” she hears herself say. “i can do that.”

“do what?”

“i can…” ellie’s cunt weeps another rush of wetness. “i can be a good girl.”

satisfied, you reach down to swipe your fingers through her folds—still sticky and wet from your unfinished head. “when i ride you, i don’t want to hear a sound. okay?”

“o-okay.” she’d agree to anything at this point. she’s under a trance. your rose-scented, strawberry-flavored hypnotism.

when you finally slide into a comfortable position, bare, soaked cunts sliding against one another, she bites her tongue so hard she swears she tastes blood. a strangled, ragged sigh leaves her nose, nostrils flaring as you lift your hips and move them back again. you’re wet, soft, and skilled with your hips. everything she’s dreamed of and more. she wants to moan your name, but the way you’re looking at her, like a siren ready to drag her underwater, it keeps her from making a single fucking peep. she lets you take what you need, content to stare in awe as your tits bounce beneath your pristine white shirt.

“doing so well for me,” you praise, hips circulating in a good rhythm now. “you can talk, baby—tell me, how’s my pussy feel?”

“fuuuuck,” she practically wails, “you’re so good, god, feels s’fucking good.”

“mm,” you hum. you’ve found a rotation to hit a spot that fills you with white-hot pleasure, and each time you lift your hips and rub against her again, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to an orgasm. “your cunt feels good, el. might come soon, would you like that?”

she nods. you can feel her hips twitch, like she’s dying to fuck herself up against you, but you’re so close to the edge that you don’t have it in you to chastise her. you do, however, have it in you to tell her, “beg for my cum, then. be a good girl, you said you’d be a good girl.”

“please,” she gasps, feeling your cunt twitch against hers, “please, baby, need your cum.”

she’s getting close too, so she doesn’t feel embarrassed that you’ve got her whining, desperate for you to cream all over her. it’s hot, actually, the fact that she’s begging for you. her sweet, innocent little girlfriend, giving her the ride of her life and making her beg for you. she’d never considered this. stupid of her.

emboldened by her impending orgasm, ellie reaches for one of your hands and moves it from her shoulder to her throat. her eyes are wide and pleading when you look down at her. relief overcomes her features when you adjust your grip and then squeeze, her pulse thudding beneath your fingertips.

this is new for her. it’s all new for her. but when you come with your hand around her throat and your cunt sliding, drenched, against hers, she can’t help but scold herself internally for not doing this sooner. you don’t whimper or cry when you come, but you do say her name, drawing it out in that low, gravelly voice of yours that she hadn’t heard until today. and that’s enough for her to reach her own high, coming with a ragged groan. a mistake that she doesn’t process until she’s spent, panting, still dizzy with the fading pleasure that leaves her in waves.

you’ve gone still on top of her.

she looks at you and finds your expression displeased.

“i’m—shit, i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry, sweetheart, I really wasn’t thinking.”

“i can tell,” you say, voice flat. she moves to lift you from her lap, intending to get up and clean you both up, but you swat her hands away. “did i say we’re done?”

she stutters for a second before she can get out real words. “no, you…didn’t.”

“i can tell you’re going to be a tough one,” you sigh, “but you’ll learn.”

and with that, you start moving your hips again. the overstimulation on ellie’s still-sensitive clit makes her jolt, but one pointed look from you has her going still again. your hips form slow, narrow circles. cum seeps out of your cunt and leaks down onto hers.

after an agonizing minute or two, the pain of overstimulation melts into pleasure. you notice ellie’s expression change, a wrinkle forming between her brows again.

“there’s a good girl.” your praise is music to her ears. her lips open to allow her to breathe as heavy as she needs to, heaving gasps that go straight to your sopping cunt. you gush even wetter.

“mmph, fuck,” ellie groans. she shoots a worried glance up at your domineering face, but when she finds that you’re gazing down at her with unbridled lust in your eyes, she relaxes again.

“you can make as much noise as you want now, pretty girl,” you assure her. “i wanna hear how good i make you feel. even when you’ve—mm, even when you’ve been a bad girl. and you don’t deserve it.”

if she weren’t already turned on again, she is now. you start to ride her in earnest again, fucking down onto her in a rhythm that has the entire room ringing out with sounds of skin slapping against skin. she grabs your hips to hold herself steady, but then you push her shoulders until she falls back onto the mattress. your hands grab her wrists, and she’s entirely unsurprised when you pin them above her head and ride her faster, harder—she’s unsurprised, but it still makes her cry out in pleasure.

“baby, i need you to apologize,” you coo down at ellie as you continue your relentless riding.

“h-huh?”

“apologize for coming without permission,” you clarify, voice just a little strained.

“oh,” ellie says. her brows are pulled together; her face is all twisted up in an absolutely sinful expression, one that makes your cunt feel impossibly wetter. “i’m sorry, babe, i already said sorry.”

“then say it again, if i tell you to.” you lift your hips until you’re barely touching her, and when she starts to sputter pathetic, whiny apologies in an endless stream, you drop your greedy cunt back onto hers.

“you really are a brat,” you tell her. it’s getting harder to talk to her like this, straight-faced and patronizing, because you’re getting close again. but you steel yourself and go on. “such a bad girl, what should i do with you, hm?”

“anything,” ellie blabbers, wrists flexing in your grasp, “i’ll do anything—i’ll let you do anything to me.”

“oh?” you smile, still gasping lungfuls of air, exhausted but chasing your second climax. you lean forward and lick along the angle of ellie’s jaw, up up up to her ear. she shivers violently as you whisper, “you’d let me fuck your tight little hole?”

you can’t see her face with your mouth against her neck, kissing and sucking and biting at her sensitive skin, but you imagine that she looks shocked. and you don’t blame her. you’ve got your good girl act down, you have for years. and ellie fell for it, bless her heart. she probably thought this would go differently; probably imagined she’d be the one overstimulating you and making you whine and beg and whimper, shaking like a leaf as you near another orgasm. but here you are.

and you’re glad she so obviously likes it.

“yes,” ellie hisses through her teeth. “yes, yes, i’d—you could fuck me, whatever you want.”

“bet you’d love it,” you tell her honestly. “you’d love having your pretty pussy stuffed with my cock, wouldn’t you?”

you’re practically dripping sweat at this point from the exertion of tribbing, clothes clinging to your body with perspiration. under your skirt, ellie’s pelvis is drenched with sex.

“yessssss,” she cries out, eyes squeezing shut. “i’d l-love it, yes, fuck…”

“are you gonna come for me, pretty girl? you can—you’ve already made such a mess.”

she’s nodding, gasping. crying, even. you don’t notice until she sniffles, drawing your attention to her reddened face. her cheeks shine with tears. you coo a gentle good girl at her and she lets a high moan loose.

“come, el. come for me.”

she doesn’t need much encouragement, she really doesn’t, but your command pushes her over the edge. coming with a cry that nearly tears her throat apart, she shakes and shivers in your hold until you finally let up and slow your rolling hips. ellie looks so beautiful when she comes, and right after, too. dazed, pussy drunk, eyes foggy. lips chewed raw. tears still wet at the corners of her eyes.

“you didn’t come again,” she points out. she sounds so small.

“i know,” you agree. “but you can fix that, sweet girl.”

finally releasing her wrists from your grip, you roll onto the bed beside her on your back. you reach a hand between your legs and swipe your fingers through the puffy folds of your cunt, releasing a satisfied hum when you feel how soaked you are.

you’re surprised when you look up and find her already making her way between your legs, eyes glued to your pussy.

“i can fix it,” she repeats. “can i taste you?”

“oh, ellie,” you say, “i knew you’d be a good girl. go ahead.”

[konigsblog]

as my favorite könig smut writer you’re the only one i trust to do dbf!neighbor!könig x early 20s!reader with the dirtiest, sloppiest, most toe curling age gap smut 💗💗

dbf!neighbour!könig?! sign me the fuck up, i could write a whole series for that filthy man!

synopsis; your father's best friend, könig, has been struggling to get himself into a stable, loyal relationship lately. luckily for him, you offer him some sort of release.

tw/cw; age gap/difference, early 20s! reader x late forties!könig, weed use, blowjob, mutual masturbation, PinV, tell me if i missed anything. MDNI 18+ 🍃

photo credits; @ave661

You've had the hots for your father's best friend for quite a while.

He doesn't live very far from you at all. In fact, he lives next door and visits your father pretty often to smoke together and talk about whatever is bothering him, which usually includes topics like König's failed relationships and inability to hold a woman for longer than a week.

Aside from wanting to rant about his horrible, fucked-up love life and to smoke weed with your old man, he wants to see you as well—maybe even more than speak with your father.

When your father is busy doing something else, like washing the dishes or cleaning his car outside, König will excuse himself to the bathroom and will sneak into your bedroom to admire the place. You have plans to move out soon, but currently, you stay with your father inside of your childhood home. König's hand "mysteriously" sneaks into your clothing hamper and begins looking for a pair of panties.

It's alright, you won't notice surely...

And you can't deny your attraction to him. The sound of his familiar, accented voice leaves your knees weak and your panties damp and soaked with the thoughts running through your dirty mind at the moment. You smile at König and talk to him about your plans for college, watching as his eyes flicker from your chest to your eyes, your nipples turning into little stiff buds at the cold breeze in the living room.

Today was like any other saturday; your father was away down the road for some beers with his other friends in the afternoon while König had just arrived home from another fucked-up date, ending like the rest of his dates have. He looks dishevelled and in dire need of some sort of release. He's visibly and clearly pent up and exhausted, rolling himself a joint to relax, leaning against his porch and closing his eyes tightly. He's deep in thought and doesn't realise that you've sneaked up on him, practically jumping out of his skin at your sudden presence.

“Shit, Mäusi— I didn’t see you there... What’s wrong, dear?” He smiles forcefully. He doesn't want to bother you with his shitty life since you're probably all worked up from college and stressed out, but you insist that he tells you what's bothering him. It doesn't take a lot of convincing since it's hard to deny you, especially when you say that you can help him if he explains.

He invites you inside and offers you a joint, in which you gratefully accept and seat yourself beside him, ready to act as a therapist for him.

“Another fucked date with another woman who seems interested in me, but actually isn’t. It seems like I can’t please any women.” He admits through gritted teeth. At the sight of his frustration, you place your hand on his thigh teasingly. “Do you think there is anything I can do to help?” You ask quietly with a mischievous and playful smile plastered on your face. Your voice is seductive and sultry, eyes half-lidded and lustful. God, You really are a tease, huh?

“And what are you hinting at, Liebling?”

König always thought he'd be the one to initiate, but right now, he was struggling to keep his composure and quickly found himself falling for your acts of seduction. You lowered yourself onto your knees and began to unzip his jeans, cocking your head to the side at the sight of his aching cock springing out in your face. You giggled while König pulled his large hands into fists, throwing his head back at the wet sensation of your lips wrapped around his swollen, weeping cock. He'd been dreaming of this moment for months, Liebe.

The things you do to König fucked-up head, Good Lord. He couldn't help the sounds of pleasure running through his lips, his dick painful at your tight grip and pleasure.

His sounds came out pained and guttural, pleased but so on edge and anxious of what your father would think about him after being so touchy-feely with his best friend's daughter. He curses himself out for agreeing to this, feeling like such a pervert despite yearning for more of your addictive, sweet touch. “Feel good?” You question him, knowing he'll get frustrated and will force your head down onto his leaking boner. He huffs and puffs, gripping your hair in a tight fist and pushes your head down with a loud moan leaving his mouth, choking on his groans and grunts.

You coat König's lengthy shaft in your spit to get him slick enough, before seating yourself onto his big lap, your hand stroking and fisting his dick. He slides his fingers into your hole with his eyes wide at the sensation and texture of your gummy walls. He chokes on his pleased sounds as you tease his tip by rolling your soft thumb over his uncut, creamy tip and feel as your folds are stuffed with his thick digits. He pumps them into your soaking cunt and admires the sticky mess left between your fingers, curling his fingers deep inside your gummy cunt.

“C’mere, Taube—Kiss me, please.” He grumbles out, getting obsessive with the pleasure you offer him. He places his lips against yours, making out with you messily and sloppy, the effects of the marijuana leaving him relaxed and at ease with all his concerns and worries forgotten about. His tongue rolls over your bottom lip while you squeeze his dick, whimpering into the sweet kiss. König's fingers begin to pump into you even faster, pulling away to beg you to sit on his cock. You're on edge and shaking pathetically, nearing your orgasm but not quite fully there.

“Sit on it, dear. Don’t be so shy, not now you can’t.” The smell of nicotine sticks to his skin, your thighs shaking as you begin to ease down onto his weeping, veiny dick. König doesn't hold back the sounds of his arousal and euphoria as it burns through his large body, bucking his broad and sturdy hips into your body while cursing you out for being such a dirty tease. You leave König totally obsessed after finally receiving some action after so long.

You bounce on his lap while he fucks his bulbous cock deep into your drooling slit. You gasp and roll your eyes to the back of your head at the ache andd pleasure between your thighs, unable to stop letting out the most perverted and pleased noises. You can feel as König hits your cervix with each thrust and his heavy balls slap against your rear as he drives his hips against your tight rear. Your eyes fill with tears at the pain and stretch, his girthy dick leaving you breathless as you admire the state he leaves your pussy in; raw and sensitive.

König can't hold himself back when you begin to lose control. Sweet, pearly droplets of your sweet arousal run down his boner and coat his length, allowing him to fuck you even harder and deeper with ease as he uses your sweet juices as lube.

“That’s it, little one—God, look how well you’re taking’ me, princess. You’re a mess, such an addictive mess, huh? You’re gonna be an obsession of mine, that’s for sure.” König grits his teeth as he bucks his hips into you even harder, his eyes shut tightly as your walls clamp down around him one last time, filled with ropes of his white creaminess. You pant and heave at the stomach bulge caused by his loads and ropes of his hot release. You grip his jaw to make out with him, your body sweaty and hot with König's cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

You have to sneak back home before your father comes back and asks what you were doing over at his best friend's house. König would be slaughtered if he found out the truth.

You just have to act all innocent, as if König's milky and potent load is oozing out of your hole and dampening your panties at the dinner table.

[emmyrosee]

this is an actual thing that happened to me and my poor friend like, an hour ago lmao

——

It’s been raining for three weeks straight.

On the list of things that make Katsuki angry, rain is high, high up on that list, above most people and most things. Rain feels useless to Katsuki, does nothing but make things wet and gross, and he’ll never forgive the rain for drowning his plants as a kid.

Rain makes him a certain degree of agitated.

You, on the other hand?

“Baby, look! It’s raining!” You beam.

You like it. Freak.

The forecast had no called for rain, nor had his phone given any warnings, but as he paid the bill for lunch, seemingly as soon as the waiter took his card, the rain poured to godlike fury.

Phenomenal.

There’s nothing he loves more on his one Saturday off a month than sprinting through monsoon season in worn down sneakers and your feet padding behind him. There’s nothing he finds more euphoria in than opening the passenger side door for you and feeling the squish of a puddle in his shoe.

And he absolutely, completely, totally understands how on the gods’ decaying, rotten earth, why you enjoy this so much.

At this point, all Katsuki wanted to do was go home, curl up in a ball with you close by and nap all the frustration and cold rain away for the next few hours-

“LOOK OUT!” You scream, and instantly, Katsuki slams on his brakes, nearly flinging you both out the window. His face paled in panic before coming back in a complete anger.

“What the fuck was that!”

“Look!” You whimper, pointing out past the windshield with a worried pout. He squints as best as he can past the pouring rain, to no avail. You groan next to him and quickly leap out of the car to chase whatever you seem to see, making him snarl a firm ‘GET BACK HERE,’ through his teeth. You put your hands on your knees as you look down at the pavement, and he looks around for a oncoming car that you seem to ignore remembering that you’re in the middle of the goddamned road.

“Are you fucking insane?!” He snaps, opening his own car door and getting out to chase you. “You’re going to get sick, and I’m not going to take care of you.”

You pout up at him before fixing your gaze back down at the road, “you were gonna hit him.”

“Hit who?”

“The turtle,” you whine, fixing the hood of Katsuki’s sweater on your head to keep the rain off your face. With a furrowed brow, Katsuki does finally look down to see a small turtle settled in the road, blinking its slimy eyes softly as if half exasperated as Katsuki is.

He sighs in exhaustion, “you made me get out of my car, in the pouring rain, bordering fucking hail, to look at a snapping turtle?” His hands smack his face and scrub it in frustration, “this can’t be my life. There no way.”

“Can we save him?” You ask quietly, clearly very upset by the idea of this little creature being squashed.

“How do you- what- NO!” He snaps, mercilessly. You whimper softly before falling to your knees, water squishing under the bones. He’s got to admit, you do look very sad, but it’s 45 degrees outside and holy crap he’s gonna freeze out here and it’s your fault.

He hears you sigh from under his hoodie, and you reach out to touch the small turtle, only retracting your hand when it lurches out to snap at you.

“See? Why do you want to save this little shit?”

You scoff, “he’s just scared, it’s not his fault.”

“Yeah, snap at you again and I’ll give him something to be scared about.”

This, you give him a small laugh at, and he does sobsr up slightly. Your head turns up to look at him, rain hitting your face and lip still in a small pout. “Please, help me save him, Katsuki?”

Fucking god.

He growls softly, “how do you want me to save him? He’s a snapping turtle, can’t just lift his ass up.” You gnaw softly at your lip before looking back at the small turtle now receding into its shell in fright.

Then, you brighten, “just go home and get a shovel!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not fucking going home, digging a shovel out of the garage, coming back and moving a turtle six feet to the other side of the road. You’re insane- he’ll be fucking fine, babe, let’s just go home.”

“I don’t want to leave him,” you say softly. “I’ll stay here, and if he moves, I’ll call you and walk home-“

“Are you fucking high? I’m not leaving you here, dumbass.”

Looking back up at him, you give him a cocky shrug, “guess you’re picking up the turtle with your hands.”

He could throttle you. Right here, in the middle of the road, right now.

With his patience running thin, and clothes soaked and heavy, he snarls softly before stomping back to the car, whipping out a small blanket he usually keeps for you when you fall asleep. He wraps it in his hands before stepping back over to you and the turtle, scooping the small reptile in his hands and grumbling as he walks it over to the sidewalk, placing blanket and all on the concrete. The turtle squirms and writhes, but once it’s placed on the sidewalk, it quickly scuttles into the mud and grass and far from the road. In the background, you’re cheering and clapping your wet hands, and he’s choosing to ignore you.

He grits his teeth and turns to you, “car. Now.”

“What about the blanket-“

“Car. Now.”

You’re still smiling as you round back to the passenger side of the car, and he hates knowing that you know he’s not completely mad, more talk than anything else.

Little rat.

He get into the driver side of the car and blasts the heat in a meek attempt to get warm, his temples pounding and heart more than ready to just get the hell home.

But his thoughts come to a halt when your arms toss around his shoulders over the center console and kiss all along his neck and cheek and temple.

“My hero,” you coo, pecking softly. “Saving everyone and everything for me. You’re the best ever. My handsome and brave hero.”

“Sit down,” he grumbles, trying to fight the warmth in his face. You ignore him, continuing to hum out praises and loving words as he drives you both home, knowing full well that you both know he’s weak to your pleas and requests and it’s going to be far from the last time he does something like this for you.

Freak.

[sapphic-kpop-fics]

Fri(end)s (Huh Yunjin x Reader)

Angst, kinda unhealthy situationship, kinda happy ending where they get their shit together.

You're in my head

I had plans for the weekend

But wound up with you instead

Back here again

Yunjin hadn’t answered any of your texts this week, after you had seen each other the Saturday before and hooked up like you had in the past. It had always ended this way, you hook up, argue a bit while she insists you’re just friends

“Y/n?” you heard as soon as you answered the call from Yunjin, her voice raspy like she had been crying.

You were currently getting ready to hang out with your friends and go to a club.

“Jen? Everything okay?”

“Can you come over?” Her voice wobbles like she’ll start crying any second, your heart breaks for her but you shouldn’t blow off your friends to comfort your situationship, right? This is was something that happened often, her calling you only when she’s upset or horny or usually both.

“Jen, I wish I could but I’m actually busy.”

“Oh…” a deep breath, and you can hear her start to cry a bit, “okay, that’s okay…I’m sorry for calling, I shouldn’t have. Go have fun.” She rushes out the words so her voice wouldn’t tremble as much when she spoke.

“Wait Jen. I’ll be there 20.”

“Thank you.” And the she hangs up.

You press the contact of your best friend, Yeji.

“Hey Yeji…” you start

“Don’t tell me you’re canceling again.” She said already knowing where this was heading.

“I’m sorry..”

“Are you going to see her?”

“What? No.” Not believable at all.

“God dammit y/n, I told you, you have to stop seeing her. She’s literally ruining you.”

“No she’s not.” You insist.

“Just last night you were crying in my apartment because she hadn’t texted you back in a week.” Yeji argues, proving her point.

“I can’t help it… she sounded really upset.” you admit, voice quiet.

“I know.” Your best friend knows you’re still going to go see the girl, as you weren’t very good at self control when it came to her, “Be careful. Try not to end the night yelling and crying this time.” A reference to the many arguments you and Yunjin shared, mostly at her lack of feelings but she’d say it’s because you have too many feelings.

So you go to her dorm, where Chaewon lets you in and gives you a pitiful look, even her members knew that the way she treated you wasn’t okay. You didn’t want to think about the amount of people who felt that way, like you were prey trapped and unwilling to leave even when rescued.

You softly knock on her door and whisper a “jen?”

“Come in.” It’s small, almost unheard through the thick wood of the door.

When you walk in, your heart kinda breaks. She’s sitting on the floor in front of her bed, arms around her knees with ripped paper littering the floor in front of her, lyrics scribbled on the tiny pieces. You sit next to her silently waiting for her to open up.

“I love my job. But people can be so horrible sometimes.”

You had figured her songwriting had been a topic among hateful “fans” online from the scattered paper in front of you.

Her head leans against your shoulder now and instinctively you wrap your arm around her. And you sit there like that in silence for hours until she feels better, once again throwing away your night to help the girl.

Friends, just for now

Yeah, but friends don't say words that

Make friends feel like more than just

Friends

“You’re so beautiful you know that?”

You both were drunk after a night out with mutual friends and of course, you ended up in Yunjin’s bed without your clothes. The compliments weren’t normal though, Yunjin would say you’re hot and compliment you of course she wasn’t a monster however it was only during sex but here she was cuddling into you, whispering little compliments and confessions as if it’s nothing, you assume the alcohol has something to do with it.

“I wish I could treat you better.” You freeze your hand that’s rubbing her back when she finishes, “it’s just so….scary.” Her words are slurred, obvious she’s still drunk and so are you which is why you make no move to stop her from talking, “you deserve better.” Is all she gets out before falling asleep in your arms.

Friends are not supposed to get too close

And feel emotions that

We're feeling now, now, now

We ain't slowing down, down, down

It was another night where she had called you late, asking you to come over, saying she “needed” you in that pouty voice to get what she wants. So here you were standing in her room after she took all of her weeks frustration out on you, looking at her as she’s turned away from you.

“I think I love you.” You whisper as the ginger girl is getting dressed after one of your nights together. She freezes as she’s about to button her pants and sighs, you know what the sigh means and you knew this would be her response but you wanted her to know how you felt.

“I’m sorry, i don’t feel the same.” She deadpans, though you can tell she’s masking something underneath, “you said that was okay.”

“…it is.”

“Great.” She says as she starts walking to her door to open it as a gesture to get you to leave.

“I shouldn’t have fucking answered.” You mumble, meant to only be said to yourself but of course she heard you.

“But you did. You always do.” Finally turning to look at you, “it’s pathetic really. The way you come crawling to me no matter what I do.”

“That’s not true.”

“Really? I can bet that if I called you tomorrow after insulting you all night, you’d still answer.”

“That’s not true.” You shake your head, though you know it is true. It’s like something takes over you when she calls and you can’t control anything.

The way she laughs at you is mocking, and mean. She could be mean sometimes, not often, only when she was particularly stressed with her schedules and you were usually the one she took it out on whether it was in bed for hours or insulting you and mocked you until you cried and left.

“Oh really? Then what happened tonight?” Her head tilts, a challenge.

She was right, last week had ended exactly as it was going now and of course as soon as she called you answered and came over. Just like she said. You didn’t answer, avoiding her eyes that are staring at you. Tears dripped from your eyes.

“Are you fucking crying?” She scoffed, “i think you should go.” She finalized.

You don’t take another second to think before you’re pushing past her and out her door, tears falling more frequently now. Unfortunately, Chaewon sits on the couch in the living room right next to the door you have to leave out of. Her eyes connect with yours and there’s a mix of pity and worry.

“Are you okay?” She asks, but you knew she heard what was said and that Yunjin tells her everything.

“Fine.” Is all you say before opening the door and leaving, you hear Chaewon yell for Yunjin before the door closes fully, her voice angry.

Now, I'm over pretending

So let's put the "end" in friends

You’re sitting on Yunjin’s bed as she paces her room and lectures you once again on how she doesn’t want a relationship and she just wants to be friends that have fun together.

“We’re friends. That’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.” She affirms, voice hard, she means it.

‘’Maybe we shouldn’t be.”

“What?” Yunjin had only now started showing emotions other than annoyance at you.

“Maybe we should…. Put the end in friends if you know what I mean.”

“No. I need you.”

You laugh, it’s a bitter one as opposed to all the other times she made you laugh, a chill goes up Yunjin’s spine at the sound, looking to the ground as you do so.

“No you don’t. I don’t think you ever really did.”

“That’s not true.” Sounding familiar to one of the last times you saw her, this time she’s saying it.

“Don’t lie Yunjin. You never cared about me.”

Yunjin flinches a bit at the use of her full name, you had never called her that not even during your worst arguments, you had only and always called her Jen.

“I did. I cared.”

“You have a shitty way of showing it.”

Being faced with the truth, Yunjin’s heart feels like it’s shattering. The consequences of her actions had finally caught up to her, unfortunately one of them was losing you.

“You should go Yunjin. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

Your cold voice surprises Yunjin, it was a stark contrast to how you would speak to her even if arguing you never really raised your voice at her. It shocks her so much that she doesn’t hesitate to finish getting dressed and walking right out of the door without another word.

4 months later..

In your bed as you try and rest for the night your phone buzzes three times next to you.

Huh Yunjin

Hey.

I know it’s been a while.

I miss you.

You

Leave me alone.

Huh Yunjin

Open the door.

You’re confused at the message but then you heard a knock, this crazy woman actually showed up. You didn’t know if you felt upset or happy, I mean yes you shouldn’t be seeing her especially after four months of silence but then again she had never made the effort to show up to your place and talk to you, unless she was drunk.

When you look through the eye hole in your door, you see Yunjin same as a few months earlier but her hair is now a red color. Her eyes are red and puffy like she had been crying, she’s wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt as opposed to her usual attire when seeing you. She looked broken and it hurt you, so you open the door. Her watery eyes look at you in surprise when you finally open it, walking in after a few seconds of staring at you.

“Why are you here?” You ask as soon as your door is closed.

“Um-I-I don’t know.” She stutters, “i just wanted to see you i guess.”

You had never seen her like this before the usual confident girl was fidgeting with her hands and her eyes are fixed on her shoes, her voice was quieter than usual and sadness laced all of her words. You don’t know why you do it, an hour ago you would’ve said you hated her and you still might but your feet are moving and suddenly your arms are wrapped around her. She freezes in shock but returns the hug, her arms squeezing you tightly enough that you wouldn’t be able to get away, now that she is comforted by you the tears that filled her eyes are rapidly rolling down her face as she cries on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” She says after she calms down.

“For what?”

“Everything.”

You’re still hugging, Yunjin’s death grip not lightening yet.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we last talked.” Now starting to pull away from you, “I treated you horribly and you didn’t deserve it. We were never just friends not since we met I know that, I was just scared.”

“J-“

“I love you.” She cuts you off, she had said the words before in bed while fucking you but you didn’t know if she meant it and you still couldn’t tell.

“I don’t trust you.” You say, plain and simple, you felt sugarcoating was pointless at this point.

“You shouldn’t.” Her head shakes, “but I would really like if you gave me the chance to earn it back.”

“I don’t know Jen. I don’t wanna get hurt anymore.”

“I’ll be better. I will do anything.” The ginger girl grabs your hands, “I want to be with you, for real this time. And I’m such an idiot for not realizing sooner.”

“Yeah, you are.” With a playful smile that Yunjin returns, the tense air now becoming more comfortable. Her forehead rests against yours.

“Does this mean you’ll give me a chance?” Her voice is hopeful, and she’d be embarrassed by the pathetic nature of her question.

“It’s going to take a while.” She pulls her head away shocked, not expecting you to actually agree, “we can’t just go back to how we were, I’m talking starting from scratch.”

“I can do that.” She agrees a little too quickly.

“Go home.” You tell her as you let go of her hands a few moments later.

“I can’t stay?”

“Starting from scratch Yunjin. Take me on a date first and then you can maybe have sleepovers.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.” A smile on her face, then she walks out of the door giving you one last smile, excited to get home and plan a date so she can finally prove how much she wants you.

——————————————————————————

Part 2 where Yunjin experiences growth and earns your trust back and is the best gf ever???

[schemmentis]

Like I Can - Pt. 3

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.7k

You see more of Melissa in the weeks after your one night stand. Not quite as much as the beginning of your friendship, when you saw her without fail every weeknd. Still, more than the near nothing you’d been growing reluctantly used to.

You still spend more time with Barbara than your favorite redhead, but you’re pleasantly surprised on the evenings that she joins both of you. It’s one of those surprise evenings where she surprises you further.

You’re already at a table at one of your favorite restaurants across from Barb when Melissa strides to the table, apologizing for being late. Like every other time she’s suddenly joined you, you only smile and say you’re glad she’s there. You are. It’s been much nicer to see her and know what’s going on from her than through Barbara.

Occasionally, you feel the knife stab you a little deeper beneath your chest. When she’s laughing. When she’s loose and carefree in a way you know she only really is with you and Barb. Still, you’re never upset to see her and you aren’t disappointed by her appearance tonight.

You’re all nearly through your meals when Melissa snaps her fingers like she’s forgotten something. “Barb, the kids mentioned game night next weekend. You think Gerald will forgive you for missing one Saturday night?”

Good-naturedly, Barbara’s eyes are rolling. “It is a Saturday night tonight.” She points out with a look your way that is meant to convey exasperation. Except you know Barb is very rarely actually so fed up with Melissa. You’re the same way. “I assume you’re hosting?”

“Well, I ain’t goin’ to Janine’s, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, the other teachers.” You laugh slightly. “You said kids. I thought you were going to have all your little students running around for a second.”

“Oh god, no. You know I love my little eagles but they ain’t comin’ to my house that’s for sure. Janine is lucky she gets to.”

“Melissa!” Barbara chastises. Or, she tries to. Except you’re laughing and Melissa is smiling at you. It doesn’t really land. 

“Hey, you should come, Y/N.”

“Me?” You scoff, waving Melissa’s invitation off. “Come on, I’m not going to get in the way of your teacher bonding time.”

“You wouldn’t be in the way. ‘Sides they’d like you.”

“You just want me there so you can have me on your team and guarantee you win.”

“Maybe! It ain’t my fault Barb has us on a losing streak!”

“I do not!” Barbara protests from across the table. 

You sigh, pretending to think it over. You are tempted. More time with Melissa is hardly anything you’d say no to. Still, you’re hesitant. These are the people she sees every day. You’ve heard a little when Melissa tells you about her days and what’s gone on but that’s hardly the same as meeting these people. And then spending an evening in Melissa’s living room with them. In competitive mode over games on top.

“Alright, I’ll come but Barb has to be on our team, too. She’s better at trivia than you, Mel.”

Melissa pretends to be offended, a hand to her chest at your trivia comment. “I won trivial pursuit the last game night we had, thank you very much.”

“Did you sneak in extra sports questions?”

“No! I did win on one though…”

“Of course you did, Mel. Just text me when to be there.”

By the time Melissa texts you about game night and what time; you’d nearly forgotten you agreed to go. You don’t panic though. For some reason, knowing both Melissa and Barbara will be there, you aren’t nervous to meet the others. It might help that you know Melissa doesn’t just let people into her house. Not easily at any rate.

Once you’re stepping into Melissa’s living room, Barb has already beaten you there. Not the others. You would guess having those she’s most comfortable around here first makes inviting the others a touch easier. You barely say hello before she’s handing you a cold beer from the fridge.

The others trickle in over the next half hour. You understand now all the little comments Melissa has made about them as you meet them and the small chit chat that ensues as each of them arrive. Janine is sweet but definitely too peppy for Melissa. You suddenly understand each time Melissa said she would keep coffee as far away from the younger teacher as possible.

“Traitor!” Melissa teases when you pair up with Barb one game. You merely roll your eyes at her, it’s a two person team rule and she’d been claimed by Jacob for that game. Otherwise you probably would have picked her yourself.

You find yourself sprawled across Melissa’s couch. Barb had been the first to leave that night, as you expected. She wasn’t one for late nights in the entire time you’d known her. The others had stuck around a bit longer. Now, it’s just you and Melissa.

The two of you had mostly cleaned up her living room, ignoring some of the empty bottles and other drinks. Now, her television is on. It’s playing one of the reality shows Melissa loves that you don’t pay much attention to. Though you’re learning them and the drama in them through osmosis. 

You’re next to Melissa, your legs stretched over her lap. Your thighs rest in her lap more than your legs or feet. One of her hands is idly messing with your hair as she watches the screen. You don’t remember how this is how you two ended up but you aren’t complaining at all. It’s perhaps the most content and safe you’ve felt in a long time. You struggle to remember when you last did.

“Hon?”

Melissa’s soft voice calling to you has you blinking. You’re almost worried you fell asleep. You may be on your way but as your eyes refocus on the television screen you realize it’s still the scene you last remember so you couldn’t have fallen asleep just yet. You likely won’t be awake much longer though.

“Hm?” You wordlessly answer her. Her fingers are gently rubbing a mindless pattern at your temple.

“You gonna see that woman again? The one from a couple weeks ago?”

You blink at the television set, your half awake brain slowly turning over her question. “No.” You finally answer. You’re too tired to be worried about what the right thing to say is. Too tired to be worried about how you sound, or accidentally saying something will tip the redhead off to your feelings.

“You didn’t like her?”

“She was fine.”

Melissa laughs, just a little. “Fine. Yeah, that’s how you said she was in bed, too.”

“Mel…” You groan. You trail off, letting your tone and the following silence convey your plead for her to not get started on that again.

“You just…deserve better is all.” Melissa finally says softly.

“Yeah, and you deserve better than Gary.” You grumble in response.

Her fingers stop their movement against your temple. You feel her freeze beneath your thighs still draped over her lap. You go to sit up but her hand presses lightly to your shoulder to keep you in place.

“What’d you say?”

“Melissa…”

“No, no. Say it again. What you said.” Melissa urges. Her hand is still lightly pressing into your shoulder still. 

“I said you deserve better than Gary.” You repeat quietly.

“You never liked him.” She says. Definitively. Just like she did after you first met him. She knew then. She knows now.

“He’s fine.”

Melissa laughs. Enough that her head throws back against the back of the couch. She tips her head forward again. Her smile touches her eyes when they refocus on you. “Fine is what you say when you’re tryin’ to be polite, ain’t it? Gary is fine. Your girl from a few weeks ago is fine. You really wanna say they kind of suck, don’t you?”

“No! She really was fine. I told you I’m not really interested in the one night stands and all.”

“And Gary?”

“Gary is…you like him.”

“He’s fine.” Melissa says with a small smirk down at you. “How do you feel ‘bout him though? Don’t worry about sparing my feelings, Hon. I wanna know.”

“He’s nice enough. I might like him if he weren’t dating you.”

“What’s him dating me got to do with it?”

You sigh. “Melissa. You could do better than Gary. You could have any guy you wanted, in a heartbeat. I know Joe, bein’ Joe, made you think differently. I watched him hurt you plenty of times while you tried to work things out, and then through the divorce process. You don’t have to settle for just a….nice enough guy.”

“Any guy I wanted, huh?”

“In a heartbeat.” You repeat.

“What if I didn’t want a guy?”

You blink up at Melissa. In the time you’d known her she’d ever spoken about men, gone out with men. You hadn’t even considered her with a woman. Even though that little bit of hope in your heart for it still lived on with your feelings for her. Still, you’d never even entertained it being possible with how much you’d seen her with men. 

“I…wouldn’t have expected you to be into women, I guess.” You finally stammer out. 

“Why not?”

“You never talk about women. I’ve seen you pick up plenty of guys at the bar. Then of course Joe and Gary.”

“I experimented in college. Like a lot of people do.” Melissa shrugs. “I lean toward men, usually heavily, but I wouldn’t call myself straight.”

“You did once tell me if Barb wasn’t with Gerald you’d make her a Schemmenti.”

She laughs again, nodding. “In another life, absolutely.” Melissa doesn’t hesitate in backing up that drunken comment she made to you forever ago. “So, you think I could get a woman?”

“In a heartbeat.” You breathe out the repetition. You know for certain Melissa could land a woman just as easily as she could a man; or anyone for that matter.

“And if I had a specific woman in mind?”

“Do you? Have a specific woman in mind?”

Melissa only looks at you for a long, drawn out moment. You have half a mind she’s memorizing your face for some reason you don’t know. “I think it would take a specific one, for me, personally, y’know? Like you said…no secret I like men but if a certain woman got to my heart and all…”

“What are you saying, Melissa?”

“I’m saying…I’m saying we both deserve better, Y/N. We both deserve better and I…I wanna be the better you deserve.” Her fingers brush at the small hair near your temple tenderly. “You’re the woman I want.”

[youcouldmakealife]

Outtake: Robbie, Saul, confessional

This didn't fit in with SAIT, because it cannot be Robbie&Saul Hour 24/7 (though why not???) but I kept at this scene even after I cut the beginnings of it. So!

Takes place right around part 43 of still always in tandem.

“Could I get all Catholic on you for a second?” Robbie says. “Feel free to say no.”

Saul smiles. “If you’d like,” he says.

“You’re not Catholic, are you,” Robbie says.

“No,” Saul says.

“Do you know how confession works?” Robbie asks.

“Everything I know has been gathered from television and film,” Saul says. “Which I imagine isn’t particularly accurate.”

“I mean, it’s not so different,” Robbie says with a shrug. “Some places have modernized, but if your church is old school, you get the stuffy box you see in all the movies.”

Robbie got the stuffy box. Could be worse, though — some of them, you have to sit right across from the priest, look him in the eye as you recite your sins. Give Robbie the confessional any day.

“So you sit in a box,” Robbie says. “and you tell a dude all your secrets, and then they give you homework to do.”

Saul smiles.

“I know,” Robbie says. “Sounds familiar, huh?”

“A little,” Saul says.

“But you know what happens after you do your homework?” Robbie asks. “You perform your acts of contrition, say all your Hail Marys and Our Fathers?”

“Tell me,” Saul says, even though TV and movies probably told him at least that much.

“Poof,” Robbie says. “You’re absolved of your sins. Just like that. As far as God’s concerned, it’s like you never sinned at all.”

“And how do you feel about that?” Saul asks, even though how Robbie felt about that probably leaked through loud and clear.

“Better that than the religions that tell you that you could live a perfect life and still go to hell just because you live somewhere too remote for their missionaries, I guess,” Robbie says. “But me and the Vatican have a bit of a different opinion on what’s a sin, you know? Fuck knows I’m not walking into my ma’s church like, ‘hi, me again, still gay as ever, lay them Hail Marys on me’. Wouldn’t even work, if I’m not repentant about it, and I’m not.”

“I always thought that it was all kind of a cop out,” Robbie continues. “Like, okay, you can do whatever bad shit you want, and you know you can go get rid of all of it, wipe the slate clean on Sunday. Kill a dude on Saturday and you and God are good on Monday morning because you recited some magic words. What’s the point of telling people not to sin if they can just get absolved right after they do? Okay, I cheat on my math test, I tell Father Brian about it, and he tells me to do ten Hail Marys, and I get an A. Pretty good deal all around, isn’t it?”

“I sense a ‘but’,” Saul says.

“I think I missed the point, a bit,” Robbie says.

“What point is that?” Saul asks.

“The part where the whole deal only works if you actually regret it,” Robbie says. “Like, I kind of did — even as a teenager I knew confessing about a crush on my science partner wasn’t going to do shit, and not just because Father Brian definitely knew it was me in there, and I sure as shit didn’t trust him not to tell my father, supposed seal of confession or not. And even if I did, I’d just be back there next week, confessing the exact same thing, and yeah, I couldn’t help it, but I wasn’t ashamed of it either, you know?”

“But I was sort of — if I can’t help it, how’s it supposed to be a sin, you know? Why’s God setting people up to fail like that?” Robbie asks.

Saul’s quiet.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, wouldn’t exactly be God’s first rodeo, would it?” Robbie says.

Saul smiles. "No," he says, then, “Why are you telling me about the confessional?”

Robbie shrugs. “Just something I was thinking about, I guess.”

“Do you have something to confess?” Saul asks.

“I mean, not really,” Robbie says. “At least no more than the usual shit.”

“Something you feel guilty about?” Saul asks.

Robbie looks down at his hands, rubbing a split knuckle, and thinks. “No more than the usual shit,” he repeats, and it rings a little false, but not false enough to make him feel like Saul struck true.

Saul’s quiet for a moment. “Are you the one in the confessional?”

“What?” Robbie scoffs. “As opposed to you?”

“I don’t mean here in this room,” Saul says. “Or even the confessional itself, necessarily.”

Robbie snorts. “What, the confessional’s a metaphor?”

“You’re the one who brought it up,” Saul says gently.

“I don’t know,” Robbie says, pressing his fingers together. “Just something I’ve been thinking about lately.”

“Since Cleveland?” Saul asks, and Robbie looks up from his hands.

“When was the last time you went to confession, Robbie?” Saul asks.

“High school,” Robbie says. “I haven’t since high school. I tell you that I went to a Catholic boy’s school? Shit’s practically part of the curriculum. Wouldn’t have even been surprised they had graded me on my sins too.”

“Since high school,” Saul echoes, and Robbie can practically hear the rest filled in, even without Saul saying it — you haven’t been in a confessional since high school, but you just happen to be thinking about it, half a lifetime later, as you get to round one-hundred and whatever of the unforgivable.

“A bit on the nose as far as metaphors go,” Robbie tells his hands, and when he looks up at Saul he’s smiling even more gently than before, so gently Robbie kind of hates him for it.

[jungkookslipring]

morning hugs

pairings: reader x Seungmin (mentions of OT8)

genre: fluff/tword

relationship: platonic (or romantic wink wink)

AU: this was based on a dream I had the other day lol also look at his sweet smile oh my god mom i love him

Summary: when your morning routine consists of coffee runs and waking up a sleepy Seungmin

Saturdays were always the best day of the week. It was a day when you didn't have to worry about work and could spend the whole day with your best friends. Even if it was just for an hour or two, it was always worth it. Today, you were going to meet your friends for a couple of hours before they went off to do their own thing. To surprise them, you decided to bring them all drinks from a local coffee shop. Their faces lit up with excitement when they saw their usual coffee orders, and you all laughed and enjoyed each other's company.

"Where's the rest of the guys?" you ask, noticing that three were missing.

"Innie's in the bathroom, Changbin is trying to wake up Seungmin," Chan said as he drank his smoothie.

You nod your head and grab their drink tray, heading towards the bedroom. As you pass by the open bathroom, you notice I.N humming while brushing his teeth. You offer him his iced americano and smile as he thanks you, but almost spits out his toothpaste. You proceed to take the two coffee drinks to Seungmin's shared bedroom. When you enter, you see Changbin "trying" to get Seungmin out of bed, which is actually just cuddling. You laugh as you set the drinks on the desk, and Changbin calls out your name and beckons you into bed.

"I'm not falling for that, Seungmin will just fall back asleep," you say as you sit on the bed, trying to dodge Changbin's hand that keeps grabbing for your wrist.

"Hey!" you shout as Changbin succeeds in grabbing your wrist and pulling you next to them.

"You're better at getting him out of bed," Changbin chuckles as he gives you a thank-you kiss on your cheek before getting up from the bed to retrieve his coffee. Seungmin rolls over and wraps his arms around you.

“Mornin snuggle bug,” You said in a high-pitched and squeaky voice as he giggled sleepily. You were grateful to see that sweet smile on his face every day. You briefly rubbed his back before letting your hand stray closer and closer to his sides. He jerked in your hold and started giggling.

“Why are you so giggly huh? You act like I’m gonna attack you," you say with a smirk.

“Cause you alwayhahays dohoho,” he giggled as he protected his torso.

“I won't! Scouts honor,” you promise as you let go.

“You never did scouts waihahahahahait” he giggled as you squeezed his tummy from your new sitting position.

“Sorry Minnie can’t help it!” you smiled as he squeaked at the feeling.

“You’re just too cute!” You simply state as loud giggles and squeaky laughter flowed from his lips. It was interesting how he didn’t tell you to stop.

“Oh my god you love this don’t you?” You ask, stopping your attack momentarily. He flushed red as he refused to answer that question.

“Kim Seungmin you’ll be the death of me one day,” you said when you started tickling him again. His laughter went up an octave when his shirt rode up, giving you access to wiggle your fingers on his abs. The sweetest sounds filled the room as he weakly batted at your hands, his body curling up on itself and leaning his head further into your lap.

“Tickle tickle tickle!” you teased until Seungmin’s laughter went silent. As much as you could do this for eternity you knew he’d need a break eventually. You slowed down your tickles and simply started rubbing his abs, trying to get rid of the ghost tickles that still lingered. Small giggles fell from his lips as he caught his breath and covered his eyes.

“That was torture,” he mumbled with the biggest smile on his face.

“Oh don’t act like you hated it,” you joked poking his side once more. You both knew this would happen again tomorrow, and he didn't mind one bit.

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A lot of my dreams lately have had Seungmin as my best friend and it makes my heart happy hahahaha let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

taglist: @felixmainacc @felixburneracc @myforevermelody143 @dunno-wut-to-do @itzsana-kiddingmenow

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Just Like This

Summary: Working a second job in a bar to help pay for Sammy’s education, Dean finds a kindred spirit in bar manager Y/N. When a drunk Douchebag gets too handsy with her, Dean quickly jumps to her defence but faces harsh consequences.

Pairing: Bartender!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Rating: Teen

Bingo Square: Getting Fired for @j3bingo

Warnings: tw: sexual assault (groping), fluff, angst, fighting, minor violence, Chuck is a complete and utter asshole in this, getting fired, quitting in solidarity, first kiss, friends to lovers

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Okay, it feels like an age since I’ve written anything that’s just pure floof. I hope you enjoy this fluffy, protective, besotted Dean fic. Please be kind. I’ve had my angst hat on for a long time, and though this was really refreshing, it’s also a little daunting!

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It wasn’t the best job in the world, but as part-time work went, Dean knew it could be a hell of a lot worse than this. He worked with his dad in the garage during the day and worked four nights a week and two shifts at the weekend in Shurley’s Sports Bar. His wages and tips went to his dad to help pay for Sammy’s education. Sure, the kid had a full ride to Stanford; however, he still needed to pay for accommodation after freshman year and the thousands of books he needed for his coursework. And at least this way, his dad didn’t put himself in an early grave by working all the hours God gave him. Lord knows he’d done enough of that when they were kids.

Shurley’s was a decent bar. It had a prime location between the University of Kansas campus and downtown, so it always has a steady stream of customers. It quietened during the summer when the students went home or on their travels, but the locals still made trade steady enough. The owner, Chuck, was a bit of a dick, but he barely showed his face around the place, and the other staff were decent, making it a great place to work.

“Hey, Dean,” Y/N said as she came out of the back office. Y/N was the bar manager and a great girl. They had a lot in common; both lost their mothers when they were young and looked after their younger siblings while their fathers worked three jobs to try and make ends meet. Y/N’d had to drop out of college when her father took unexpectedly sick, having to take care of him and her little sister. Now that her father had passed and her sister had a full ride to another prestigious college, Harvard, Y/N lived in the tiny apartment above the bakery where she worked four days a week and in the bar four nights a week and every Saturday night. The rest of the time, she studied part-time to finish her college education and sent every spare cent she had to her sister in Boston.

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled at her. She was pretty, too, and Dean wasn’t afraid to admit that he had a massive crush on her. Not that anything would ever happen because she was her, and he was… well, he wasn’t good enough for a girl like that. “How are ya, sweetheart?”

“I’m good, Dean. How are you? Oh! Did you manage to get Sam’s apartment sorted?” Y/N asked, and he smiled that she’d remember such a thing.

“Yeah, it’s all good now. We managed to get the rest of the deposit together,” Dean said. “Thanks for the extra shifts, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” Y/N smiled. “I still can’t believe landlords can actually do that,” Y/N shook her head as she headed behind the bar and started filling the refrigerators with bottles of beer and wine to prepare for the busy Friday night shift.

“Yeah, us either. But it’s done, and he has somewhere to live,” Dean said as he put the last menus and condiment buckets on the tables. “What needs to be done next, boss?” he asked, smirking when Y/N chuckled. She hated being called that, but he seemed to be the only one she didn’t scold for it.

“I could use a hand changing over the barrels if you’ve got time?” she said, breaking up the cardboard that the bottles had been housed in.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Dean headed into the storeroom and started shifting the beer barrels behind the bar as Y/N continued putting bottles in the fridges and replacing the almost empty spirit bottles with full ones to accommodate the busiest night of the year: Friday night football and Freshers Week.

The bar was packed with customers, the warm, sunny weather drawing even more of them in than usual, and of course, Chuck had decided tonight was a good night to show face and ‘help’, putting the staff on edge. Dean had gone with the head down and get on with it attitude, glad it was three deep at the bar so he had an excuse not to have to entertain Chuck for very long.

Y/N had been running around after Chuck all night, finding this paperwork and that invoice and the employee payroll for the past six weeks. Eventually, when he couldn’t possibly ask for anything more, she’d escaped the office, having brazenly told her boss that she was needed front of house to help serve customers.

“I swear,” she’d said as she tied her little black server’s apron around her waist, “It’s like he fucking knew tonight would be the busiest night but still came to check months old paperwork! God, that man is insufferable!”

It wasn’t often that Y/N showed her annoyance, and Dean couldn’t help but think it was cute. Though, admittedly, that could be his crush talking, her furrowed brow and tiny pout were adorable.

“What can I do to help?” he asked as she took her place behind the bar.

“I should be asking you that question!” she giggled. “What do you need me to do?”

“We could do with someone collecting and cleaning the empty glasses, if you wouldn’t mind?” he responded, smiling as she picked up a basket, cleaning spray, and a cloth before he’d finished his sentence.

“You got it,” she winked and headed onto the floor to clear and wipe the tables down. And that, Dean thought, is what makes a good boss. Someone who works with the team to achieve the same goal. Someone who isn’t afraid of stepping in to help by doing the most mundane tasks that are below their pay grade.

Y/N was a breath of fresh air for him in so many ways. She was bubbly and caring, and no matter what was thrown her way, she responded with an air of calmness and dignity that he admired.

“Hey, man. What can I get ya?” Dean asked the next patron, finally taking his eyes off the girl slowly taking over his every thought.

“Be careful,” Dean said as Y/N headed back onto the floor to clear more glasses and tables. “It’s getting rowdy out there. You know what those college boys can be like.”

“Thanks, Dean,” she smiled. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

He knew she would be. He’d seen her handling every kind of drunk customer. Still, he’d watch her closely because he was more worried than usual. The crowd tonight seemed even more enthused thanks to the local sports team playing. It still surprised him how often the female staff got touched inappropriately and had the most vulgar things said to them by too drunk and far too confident men. More than once Dean had had to step in and stop something from going too far, and he’d do it as many times as he needed to for Y/N or any of the other female staff.

Y/N managed to get around most of the bar unscathed, but there was a particularly boisterous table of men who only frequented the bar when the Chiefs played. Dean had been watching them all night because they seemed to have forgotten their age and tried to out-drink their much younger counterparts. They’d already run their mouths off to the bar staff, and now one of them in particular had their beady eye on Y/N as she moved from table to table, collecting empty glasses and bottles.

Swapping her tray out for an empty one, Y/N made her way over to their table, and the second she got close enough, the balding guy with the beady eye was quick to rear his hand back and smack her ass. Dean’s hackles rose, and he was on high alert as he watched her give the douchebag a piece of her mind. But he didn’t stop. Douchebag wrapped his arms around her waist and tried pulling her onto his lap. All the while, his douchebag little friends laughed and cheered him on like he’d won a fucking prize.

Dean saw red as he ran around the bar and strode purposely over to the group of middle-aged men amid a mid-life crisis and pulled Y/N from his hold, dragging her behind him to protect her.

“The lady told you to leave her alone. I suggest you do that,” Dean fumed, only getting angrier at Douchebag’s smirk.

“Oh, ladies and gentlemen, we have a jealous boyfriend trying to protect his girl! You know, if she were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t let her out the house wearing something so…” he paused as he leered up and down Y/N’s body, “revealing.”

“Listen, asshole, you don’t want to piss me off right now. Why don’t you and your buddies call it a night and go home? You’ve clearly had too much to drink, and we don’t take kindly to people assaulting our staff here,” Dean’s jaw was clenched, but he’d somehow managed to keep his voice steady.

“Sorry, man,” Douchebag smirked as he stood. “Just can’t help myself when I see a pretty girl showing off half her body like a Goddamn little tease. She’s asking for it, really.”

That was the last straw, and as Douchebag made one final (and unfortunately successful) attempt to get his hands on Y/N, Dean pulled his fist back and punched him square on the nose. The resounding crack as Dean broke the guy’s nose was satisfying, as were the synchronised grimacing ‘oohs’ that the audience this little corner of the bar had attracted.

“You broke my nose, asshole!” Douchebag spluttered. “I’m reporting you for assault!”

“You do that,” Y/N said, “and I’ll have you arrested, too. This whole bar and the CCTV saw you grope me twice and clearly saw me trying to get you off me! What he did,” she pointed at Dean, “was save me from being sexually assaulted!”

“Come on, man,” one of Douchebag’s friends said, patting him on the back. “Let’s get you to the hospital. It’s not worth it.”

“Damn straight it’s not!” Dean yelled. “Any way you spin this, he doesn’t win, so get the hell out and don’t come back!”

Tail between their legs, Douchebag and his friends left the bar. The second the door shut behind them, Dean was next to Y/N, checking her for injuries.

“I’m fine, Dean,” she insisted, but her eyes told a different story. The encounter had shaken her up, and Dean wanted to fix it, needed to fix it.

“No, sweetheart, you’re not. You’re–” Dean began but was interrupted by the shrill voice of Chuck.

“Winchester, my office, now! You too, Y/N.”

Seeing Y/N sitting beside him on the other side of the desk was strange. This was where she did all the paperwork, payroll, ordering, and invoicing, so to see Chuck on her chair was disconcerting. And not good.

“I don’t know what was going on out there–” Chuck began, and Dean scoffed in disbelief.

“You’re bar manager was sexually assaulted by a customer. That’s what happened!” Dean sat forward on his chair, raising his voice. He only calmed when Y/N placed her hand on his forearm.

Chuck pursed his lips at his outburst and continued speaking as if Dean hadn’t interrupted.

“I don’t know what happened, but whatever it was, sexual assault or not,” Chuck looked pointedly at Y/N before he continued. “It’s no excuse for my staff to behave violently.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Dean fumed. “That… scumbag… touched her ass and her breasts and tried to force her into his lap! You see those bruises, right?” he asked as he pointed to the dark purple fingerprint marks on her arms.

“Inappropriate comments, slurs, even touching, is to be expected when you work in a bar–” Chuck was interrupted again, this time by Y/N.

“There are no touching policies in every strip club in the country for a reason, Chuck! You cannot expect it to be any different in a fratboy sports bar! No one should go to work expecting that being sexually assaulted is okay!”

“For God’s sake, Y/N! So what a guy touched your ass and tits! You should be flattered!”

“It was sexual assault, Chuck! That guy,” Y/N pointed behind her in the general direction of the bar, “touched me without permission, and I could have him charged! You too with how you’re behaving!”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic! I feel sorry for your boyfriend if this is how prudish you are!”

“Hey, that is–” Dean interjected, but Chuck kept talking.

“Dean, you’re fired. I cannot, and will not, allow a violent brute to work in my bar.”

“You can’t do that!” Y/N protested.

“Watch it, or you’ll be gone, too!” Chuck threatened, but Dean knew it was an empty one with her. He needed her too much. The bar would burn to the ground without her in charge.

“No need. I quit. Effective immediately. I cannot, and will not,” Y/N glared at Chuck as she repeated his words to him, “work in a place where I’m expected to be sexually harassed and assaulted and ignore it. I cannot, and will not, work for a man who fires a good person for helping someone in need.”

Standing, Y/N took off her apron and name tag and threw them on the desk. She unhooked the keys from her belt and pulled the cash box towards her, opening it and pulling out two brown envelopes, handing one to Dean and putting the other in her pocket. Once she’d locked the cash box, she tossed her keys down on the cheap metal desk with a satisfying clang.

“Really? You’re going to quit over him?” Chuck scoffed.

“Yes. Dean is worth a thousand shitty bar jobs like this one, and I’d choose him over any of them in a heartbeat,” Y/N said with her head held high. “I hope you know you’ve just lost your two best workers on the busiest night of the year. Come on, Dean. Let’s get out of this shithole.”

Dean didn’t protest. He stood up, smirked at Chuck because he just couldn’t help himself, and followed Y/N out of the bar and onto the street.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t need to do that. I’m a big boy, and I can look after myself,” Dean said after walking in silence for a few minutes.

“I know you can, and yes, I did. That was unfair and undeserved. Especially because it was my fault,” Y/N responded.

“Hey, don’t ever… it wasn’t your fault. Things like that are never the woman’s fault, you know that, right?” Dean couldn’t believe she’d ever think something like that would be her own doing.

“I know, but if I’d listened to you and let Marcus clear tables instead of me, none of this would’ve happened.”

“No. I won’t hear it. You didn’t ask to be groped by a balding douchebag going through a mid-life crisis, sweetheart. Don’t ever apologise for someone else’s wrongdoing,” he reassured her.

“So, what do we do now? We both kinda needed that job,” Y/N chuckled, but it held no humour.

“Well, I might know a guy who owns a wine bar downtown. A classy establishment, so the tips are better. And we’d be treated right,” Dean said, thinking of the bar Cas had tried to get him to work in for months.

“You have a buddy with a bar, and you chose to stay working in that shithole?” Y/N asked in disbelief. “Why? What would possess you to stay there? Willingly?”

“It wasn’t all bad,” Dean smirked. This wasn’t where he envisioned this conversation going–if it ever happened at all, that is–but the perfect opportunity had presented itself and he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t take it. “I got to see you almost every day.”

“Come on! You did not stay there for me!” Y/N scoffed, and Dean shrugged his shoulders, his lips tugging upwards in a shy smile.

“I did, actually. Can’t think of anyone better to spend so much time with.”

“Dean Winchester,” she grinned. “Are you flirting with me?” The teasing tone in her words was one he’d never heard before, and he liked it.

“Do you want me to be flirting with you?” he’d asked, needing to hear her say it before he did something stupid because he’d misread the signals.

“Yeah… I think I do,” Y/N giggled, stepping closer to him, bumping their arms together as they stepped in sync down the sidewalk.

“Yeah?” he asked, checking again because, quite frankly, she was her and he was him.

“Yeah.”

Dean stopped walking and gently grabbed her forearm to stop her from walking ahead. Feeling brave, Dean placed his hands on her cheeks and dipped his head, slowly lowering his lips to hers. Every inch closer he got, he switched his gaze between her lips and her eyes, making sure this was what she wanted.

When there was no hesitation and nowhere else to go, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. They were as soft as they always looked, softer even, and tasted as sweet as he’d imagined they would.

Y/N pressed herself closer to him with a low hum and slid her arms up his chest, resting one hand on his pec and the other curling around his neck. Dean licked her bottom lip, encouraging her to open her mouth and let him deepen their kiss.

He failed to hold back a groan when his tongue met hers, the feeling so much better than anything his mind could’ve conjured up. Dean couldn’t remember how long he’d wanted this, and now that it was happening, he knew he’d do whatever he could to keep her in his arms, just like this.

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

[lainiespicewrites]

Coach Sy part 4 "The Date"

Here it is folks! Sy and Alayna's big first date and other things ;) Enjoy let me know what you think! No I promise I'm not stopping here!!

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, Smut! (p in v) , creampie, Dom Sy

Reblogs and comments are always welcome! all mistakes are mine! it's late and I definitely did not proof read because I was on a roll and excited about posting it! I'm sorry in advance for any grammatical errors

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was another busy week. We were headed into the second week of October and that meant midterms were right around the corner. And so was fall break. Half of my students were anxious and stressed, they had test anxiety and were worried where this would put them on the class ranking. The others, I couldn’t get them to focus. They had one foot out the door ready for the long weekend, Ready for pumpkin patches and fall leaves. Surely plotting their next instagram post or tik tok or whatever it was they were doing now. 

I actually didn’t see much of Sy during the week, the boys were up against another difficult team this friday so he spent most of his lunches watching tape for practice. We kept things professional when we did run into each other though. It helped that I wasn’t sure how far he wanted to take it after what he’d said saturday. He wanted to be a gentleman. I guess that meant he wasn’t going to kiss me again either until he took me out on a date. I could handle that. But it didn’t mean it wasn’t torture. Logan may be kind and sweet and the perfect gentleman. But he’s also a big fucking tease. And he was doing it on purpose!

I ran into him on Wednesday afternoon in the hallway. I was on my way back in from picking up lunch. He was on his way back to his classroom. He immediately smiled when he saw me

“Well there’s a sight for sore eyes, late lunch darlin?” He asked, leaning against the wall in the hallway. I blushed.

“Hey handsome, yeah, busy afternoon just got the chance to go pick something up.” I responded. Then added “I’ve missed are lunch dates, I haven’t seen much of you this week,” I bit my lip softly waiting for him respond. 

“Yeah, me too, I’d much rather be having you for lunch,” He winked. “But I don’t think that’d be very work appropriate.” He smirked. I felt my face heat up and my eyes went wide. 

“Sy!” I scolded trying so hard to hide my laugh. He cupped the my jaw and brushed his thumb over my cheek. 

“Saturday’s only a few days away Darlin’, I waited over a year for you. Just a few more days and you can see as much of me as you want,” He drawled out chuckling softly. 

My face went completely flush and my heart rate sped up. This had to be what a heart attack felt like. God this man knew what he was doing. My skin felt like it was burning and simultaneously I was puddle on the floor for him. 

“You talk big game for a man that won’t even kiss me,” I teased, finally finding my voice again. I watched him as his eyes flickered behind me and he quickly turned to see if we were alone. 

“I can’t baby, you’re like a drug or something. If I get started with you again I’m not gonna be able to stop. And this aint the right place for that sugar.” He smiled softly. He let his hand fall back to his side. We were in the middle of the hallway surely we couldn’t stand like this forever and not get caught. And he was right. Faculty dating isn’t against the rules. But at the rate we were going we would be fired if we took a step closer to each other right now. 

“I do that much for you?” I asked, unable to hide smile. 

“You do more than that sugar, you’ll see soon enough. I gotta head back to my classroom and get some work done. I’ll see you at the game Friday! You go eat darlin, don’t need you passin out on us,” he gave me one last soft smile before we parted ways and I headed back to my office.  

On thursday night I went to dinner with the girls. And gave them all the details they’d been waiting for. 

“Girl I would have melted! He did not!” Skyler gasped. I laughed and hid my blush behind a sip of wine. 

“And in the middle of the school hallway, you guys are like teenagers,” Hayley shook her head, but smiled. “You better be back by curfew saturday night,” she smirked. I took another bite of the cake we were sharing for dessert and smiled skyler shook her head. 

“I don’t think he plans on taking her back to her house unless he’s staying the night,” She joked. 

“My god you guys can we get through one dinner without discussing my love life,” 

“No, it was non-existent until he came along and we are fully invested. This is better than TV!” Skyler laughed. “Seriously though, I hope you have so much fun saturday night, you haven’t been out on a date in… well a really long time! You deserve this!” 

“He does know you’re like horrible at bowling though right? Like when we used to go in high school your best game was like a 72, you might as well as just dropped it right in the gutter!” Hayley laughed. 

“I tried to tell him! I chuckled. “If anything there will be a lot of laughter. And it’ll be an excuse for him to put his hands on me again.” I wiggled my eyebrows. Hayley rolled her eyes and skyler almost choked on her drink laughing. I love my friends so much! 

Friday felt like it dragged on forever. Sy was busy all day again so I’d only heard from him in his usual “Good morning” text. We were busy in the office starting sign-ups for the first senior college campus field trip, and I skipped lunch so I was starving by the time I packed up my office at the end of the school day. Just as I was about to lock up my office there was a knock on my door. 

I looked up and saw a few of the boys on the football team standing outside of my office. 

“Derek, Matt, Tyler, Can I help you boys?” I smiled. 

“We just wanted to thank you for being at our game last week Ms. P, You’re the best!” Derek spoke first. He was such a sweet kid. He was a shoein for a football scholarship at one of the big universities. 

“Yeah and we heard you were gonna be there tonight too! That’s awesome, Coach says you’re our good luck charm and I think he’s right. No one’s got as much spirit as you!” Tyler laughed. 

“You boys are just trying to butter me up to write your college recommendation letters,” I chuckled. “That’s so sweet of you to say, thank you! I can’t wait to watch you guys play tonight!”

“You rock Ms. Plummer! Oh and uh,” Matt smirked  and stepped out from behind the other two boys I hadn’t noticed he was holding a bouquet of flowers. “Coach sent us to deliver these,” He said extending the vase out to me. 

“Thank you Matt,” I smiled taking them from him and setting them on my desk. “You guys better get home Coach will have your head if you don’t take care of yourselves before the game!” They all smiled 

“We’ll see you tonight Ms. P!” Derek called as they left the office. Shook my head and smiled to my self as picked up the flowers and finally closed up my office. 

Once I got home from work I set the flowers on the counter and noticed there was a little card attached. I pulled off the little envelope and took out the card. 

“Flowers for our gorgeous good luck charm. It’s gonna be a great game! Can’t wait to see you tonight Sugar ;)”  I could feel my cheeks heating up and I smiled to myself. He was too much sometimes. But I loved it. I ate a quick dinner, changed into some jeans and put on Sy’s hoodie I still had from last weekend. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.  I sprayed on a little perfume that he had complimented a while ago. And then headed out the door to get to the game a little early. 

I don’t know why I was trying to impress him. I already had him. But I really enjoyed having his attention. And I missed it so much this week while he was busy. The spot next to his truck was open so I parked next to him. It was starting to feel natural. I liked it. It felt like we belonged together. I shook my head. I was getting ahead of myself. 

When I headed toward the field I found him immediately. He was standing on the sidelines talking with the other coaches while the boys were warming up. I walked along the fence that ran along the outside of the track and stood leaned against it waiting for him to see me. One of the other coaches saw me first and smirked. He sent me a little wink before he nudged Sy and nodded in my direction. Sy raised his eyebrow and turned to see what Nick was looking at. I smiled and and waved shyly. “I’ll be back, Nick get the boys started on the next defensive drill, I want ‘em good and focused tonight!” He said barely looking back to catch his assistant coaches response before he strode over to the fence giving me a toothy grin. 

“Hello beautiful,” He smiled as he leaned his hip against the fence. 

“Hey handsome, looks like the boys are in good shape for the game tonight!” I said. He looked out at the field and watched them for a minute and nodded. 

“Yeah, we’re lookin’ even better now that our good luck charm is here. The boys couldn’t wait to give you your flowers.” He chuckled, turning back to face me. 

“Yeah? I’m sure THEY couldn’t,” I smirked. “Thank you they were beautiful, and the card was sweet Sy, you didn’t need to do that.” 

“Gentlemen always, sends flowers on the first date,” He teased. 

“Yeah but it’s not until tomorrow,” I joked. 

“Okay, so maybe I felt bad that i’ve been a little busy this week, just wanted you to know that I’m eager to see you again. I’m always thinking about ya,” he smiled

“Sy,” i blushed

“It’s true, I’m always thinking about your pretty little smile. And those lips.” He paused “The way you taste. And those tits,” He smirked wiggling is eyebrows. 

“Oh my god,” I blushed and folded my arms against the fence hiding my face. “You are ridiculous!” I mumbled against my sleeve. He chuckled. 

“Is that my sweatshirt?” He asked raising an eyebrow. I lifted my head to meet his gaze biting my lip softly. 

“It might be.” I said shyly. 

“So you’ve been thinking about me too,” He smirked. 

“It’s kinda hard not too,” I admitted. He smiled and holding my gaze for a moment before looking back at the field, then behind me at the bleachers. 

“It’s probably not appropriate for us to show PDA around the students like this huh?” He said sadly, “I wanna kiss you so bad,”

“Well, it is technically after work hours, and theres no harm in a good luck kiss.” I smiled batting my eyelashes playfully. 

“I like the way you think Darlin,” He smirked cupping my jaw tilting my face up and pressing his lips to mine softly. We stayed like that for a few seconds breathing each other in. It’d been a long week. Finally we pulled away when one of the players whistled from the sidelines. Sy chuckled and shook his head. 

“Good luch coach.” 

They didn’t need it, the boys played amazing. The predictions would be that this would be a close scoring game, but our team shut them out. The final score was 54 to 10. They had 4 straight consecutive wins this season. They were undefeated so far and if they won again next week it would be the first time in 15 years we’d headed into an undefeated season. Sy was really soaking it up after the game. 

“Well look at you Cowboy.” I smiled waiting against my car as he walked out to his truck after everyone had cleared out. “You’re famous around here now.” 

“Nah, the boys deserve all the credit, they’re the ones putting in the work.” He said humbly. 

“I saw you celebrating you out there, You love this!” I grinned, looking up at him as he stopped right in front of me. “You’re a damn good coach, they wouldn’t be this good without you,” I put my hand on his chest and the other on his shoulder pulling him closer. 

“With a beauty like you cheering us on we’re unstoppable baby,” He said softly grabbing my belt loops and pulling me against him kissing me roughly. I let him bit my lip and slip his hands down to squeeze my ass before I pulled away and pushed him back softly with my hand on his chest. 

“Slow down Tiger, you haven’t taken me out yet remember?” I smirked. He groaned dropping his head to my shoulder breaking heavily against my neck. “Whats got you all riled up captain?

“You showing up in my hoodie, kissing me like that, acting all shy,  you’re such a tease baby,” he growled. 

“Me? And your little stunt in the hallway this week wasn’t teasing? I couldn’t focus for the rest of the day! And I couldn’t kiss you then!” I pouted. He smirked. 

“Yeah I guess that wasn’t fair was it?” He brushed my hair back away from my face and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Okay, we better get out of here before I try and take you home with me again,”

“One more day Logan, you did this to yourself!” I winked. “It’ll be worth it.” He chuckled.

“I’ll pick you up around 7:30 for dinner, the bowling thing starts at 9 is that okay?” He asked. 

I nodded “That sounds perfect Sy! I’ll see you then,” I said walking  around to the drivers side of my car and opening the door. 

“Get home safe, Text me when you get home.” He said as he got in his truck. 

“I will!”

The next day I was so anxious. Logan and I had been out together before but this was different. I could barely eat I was so nervous. I sat around trying to get some housework done, but I couldn’t even nervous clean. So I sat down and tried to get some reading done, but then there was a spicy scene in the book I was reading and, well my mind wandered to Sy and I was nervous all over again. Finally 6 o’clock rolled around and I let myself start to get ready. I pulled on a pair of tight jeans I hoped he’d like. Not that it would matter. By the end of the night I knew  they’d be off.  I put on a dark green v neck. I’ve noticed he seems to like that color. We would eventually have to switch to bowling shoes so I just put on a pair of converse and paced while I tried to figure out what to do with my hair and how much make up I should do. Then I panicked again because, Should I pack a bag? 

It’s very likely I’ll end up at his place again. Unless he doesn’t want me to stay over. I don’t want to assume. Maybe I should text him. No because I didn’t want him to know I was thinking about what we’d be doing later. But I was. And I’m sure he was. This was Ridiculous. I picked up my phone and sent a quick text. 

“Do gentlemens let their ladyfriends sleepover on the first date?” I sent. That sounds so stupid, He’s gonna think your stupid. He’s literally gonna call you and cancel the whole thing. My phone buzzed and I jumped a little lost in thought and anxiety. 

“When they’re lucky enough to have a date as sexy as you they do ;)” He replied. Okay so maybe I’m not stupid. 

“Would it be unladylike and presumptuous for me to be prepared for said occasion?” I texted back. Instead of texting my phone rang. I answered him quickly

“Hello?” I giggled. 

“Hey Darlin’ I was just getting ready to come pick you up and I was thinking, Do you wanna stay at my place tonight?” I could hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Sy,” I chuckled “You didn’t have to.” he shushed me. 

“Listen baby, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but the way we’ve been going at it this week, I figured I may as well formally ask.” He was holding back laughter.

“I’d be honored to stay with you tonight, I’ll pack a back,” I teased.  He chuckled 

“Good girl, I’ll see you in 20 baby,” we hung up and bit my lip shaking my head to myself. He was so damn cute! I finished getting ready and threw a few overnight essentials in a bag. Just as I was double checking everything there was a knock on my door. I grabbed my purse and bag and opened the door to see Sy with another bouquet of flowers and a big grin. 

“Hey gorgeous! You ready?” He smiled. I nodded. 

“Yeah! Those for me?” I blushed. 

“Told ya, Gentleman always brings flowers on the first date.” He smirked proud of himself. They were a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses. 

“Your momma raised a good man!” I smiled. “They’re beautiful, I’ll go put these in some water and we can go!” After I found a vase and set them on the counter next to last nights flowers we left for dinner. He took me to a local burger joint. It reminded me of one of the restaurants in Grease. He’d genuinely put thought into this! We ate dinner and even shared a milkshake. 

“You’re such a dork!” I laughed when he leaned across the table to take a sip. 

“You like it or  you wouldn’t keep me around,” He joked. 

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” He laughed and his eyes flickered to my lips. 

“Hold still sugar,  you got a little something,” He took his thumb and swiped the ice cream off my bottom lip and then brought it to his lips sucking it off. I swallowed hard and bit my lip “Got it,” He winked. 

“Mmhmm, you did,” I stuttered. 

After he paid for dinner he drove us to the bowling alley and we got set up on a lane for the night. We also got a little wrist band for the bar. “I”m gonna go get a beer sugar you want anything?” He asked. 

“I’ll take a wine cooler, whatever they got!” I smiled. I set up our screen putting our names on the board and started our first game. I felt him wrap his arm around my waist and he pulled me close pressing a kiss to my neck. 

“You ready?” he asked handing me my drink? I nodded biting my lip and trying to control my breathing. I didn’t want him to know how easy it was for him to make me lose my mind. He chuckled and kissed my cheek letting go of me and picked up his ball.

Sy was up first and I watched as he stepped up to the lane. He drew his arm back and let the ball come forward dropping it perfectly in the middle He hit all but two pins in the far left. Of course he was good at this. “Damn Sy, I didn’t realize you were a professional at every sport.” I joked. He chuckled. 

“A couple buddies and I used to play on a league in high school. It’s been a while.” He picked up his ball again when it came back through and stepped up to the line again and it spiraled down and curved perfectly knocking down the last pins.  “Guess I still got it!” He smirked. I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my drink. I grabbed my ball and stepped up to the line. Well, I’ve made myself look stupid before and he’s still here so, here’s to embarrassing myself! I threw the ball and it dropped hard immediately rolling toward the right gutter. I sighed heavy and dropped my head in shame. I could hear Logan trying not to laugh. 

“Shut up,” I said when I turned around waiting for my ball. 

“That was a good try,” He snickered. 

“I’ll get the next one!” I said confidently. I did not. This one rolled more to the left skated along the edge and knocked down two pins. I winced but laughed at myself when I turned around. 

“You hit em that time!” I laughed. 

“We can’t all be perfect like you Sy!” I joked. He shook his head his chest shaking with laughter. 

“I can help you if you want,” He smiled sweetly. I wasn’t going to give into him that easily. Not yet. 

“No! I can do it,” I said stubbornly.  He just laughed. We went on like that for a while. The next turn He bowled a strike. I knocked down 4. He picked up another spare. I got 6. He got another strike. I threw another gutterball. When it was my turn again I downed the rest of my drink and stood up grabbing the ball. I walked up to the line and stood their for a second. I stared at the pins and the turned back towards Sy and pouted. 

“Okay I give up, help,” He smiled standing up from the table and walked up behind me. 

“Come here baby, Stand a little more to the right of center.” He moved us over and grabbed my hip so I was completely pressed against him. He slowly ran his hand down my arm gently grabbing my wrist. Guiding it back to show me how to throw the ball. He was saying something but I honestly couldn’t hear the instructions he was giving over my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “Just like that and let it go okay.” he smiled. I nodded and he guidded me again helping me throw the ball. This time I knocked down all but one. “Thats my girl!” He said spinning me around and kissing me passionately. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders kissing him back. He pulled away quickly and smiled. “I knew you could do it.” We finished the first game and of course Sy had Won. He got me another drink and he switched to water so he could drive us home.  The second drink was starting to hit and I kept calling him over to help me and teasing him by pressing my ass against him everytime he was behind me. At the end of the last game he was behind me helping me throw again. I was definitely a little buzzed. 

I pressed my ass against him grinding against him to  whatever song was playing on the old jukebox. But he was done with my teasing. He growled in my ear squeezing my hip tight. And after I let go of the ball he turned me around crashing his lips to mine. I smirked when we pulled away. “What do you think you’re doing darlin, hmm?” he smirked.

“Just having fun Sy,” I ran my hand down his chest and his stomach. He grabbed my wrist stoppinig me before I could get any further. I pouted. “Buzzkill,” He shook his head. 

“You’re in for it when we get home darlin, don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” we left the bowling alley and got back in the truck. I was  so excited for him to get us home. 

“Such a naughtly little girl teasing me in public like that. You like misbehaving don’t you,” He growled when we were on the main road back home. His hand had been on my thigh the whole drive. His fingertips softly massaging the inside. 

“I think you like it when I do,” I teased. I reached over and ran my had across his lap and smirked when I felt the bulge in his jeans. I playfully squeezed him and he cursed under his breath. 

“What am I gonna do with you.” He groaned. He pulled into his drive way and threw it into park. He jumped out and ran to my side of the truck. I had just enough time to unbuckle my seatbelt before he pulled me out and threw me over his shoulder. 

“Sy!” I laughed. He smacked my ass. 

“You asked for this sugar!”  He carried me into the house and took me straight to his bedroom. He dropped me on the bed and flipped me over onto my stomach. I squealed playfully as he pulled down my jeans and panties tossing them to the side. “You wanna be a brat and misbehave. You’re gonna learn baby.” He brought his hand down with a loud smack on my ass. “Bad girls get punished.” I could feel myself dripping already. God it was like he was straight out of a romance novel. But he was real. This was happening. He gave a hard slap to the other cheek and I whimpered. He rubbed over it soothing it gently. “You like this don’t you, when I take control?” I moaned inresponse. 

“Words sugar,” He smacked my ass again and I yellped not ready for it. 

“Yes Sir!” I choked out. 

“That’s my good girl, now stay just like that, Ive been dying to bend you over all week.”  I heard him unzip his jeans and then felt him press the head of his cock against my folds. He didn’t give me time to adjust this time. He just slammed into me. 

“Fuck Sy!” I moaned as he started a relentless pace. He tangled his fingers in my hair as he fucked me from behind pulling me up against his chest. 

“I love when your like this, when you’re so needy for me. You’ve been aching for my cock all week. And You’d do anything to get it.” I blushed. Fuck he was right. I moaned as he thrusted harder. 

“Say it,” he growled in my ear. 

“Mm fuck I need your cock Logan,” I moaned. I heard him groan and felt his fingers pressing against my clit as he reached around to help me reach my climax. 

“I know baby, and you needed me to make you cum didn’t you, I’m gonna let you cum baby all you have to do is ask.” It felt so fucking good. He was so intense. His words his motions. The things he was doing to me was too much. 

“Please Sy,” I begged.

“Please what baby?” He smirked as his thrusts became sloppy. I groaned feeling it build up inside me. 

“Please let me cum!” I moaned. He Pushed me back down so my face was against the mattress and grabbed my hips thrusting into me. 

“Let go baby, I gotcha, I’m right here baby, cum for me. “ his name tumbled from my lips as my walls clenched around him and I reached my climax. He wasn’t far behind. A few more thrusts and he was cumming inside me. Growling in my ear telling me how good I was. 

“Fuck,” He breathed pulling out and laying on the bed next to me. He pulled me on top of him, combing his fingers through my hair. “Well, I’d say that went well,” He smirked. I shook my head trying to catch my breath. 

“You’re an idiot.” I laughed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's it Please let me know what you think! There's more to come and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :)

@summersong69 @carrie80reads @identity2212 @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @kingliam2019 @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome

[pugh-bug]

No.42 Chapter 3

Art Donaldson x reader slow burn friends to lovers

Sorry for the wait! The day I set aside to get loads done on this I ended up having to visit a family member in hospital, he’s much much better now. Anyway oversharing. I hope you enjoy this chapter! I loved writing it. Let me know if you wanna be added to my tag list 💕

Part 1

Part 2

——————————————————————

You woke up on Saturday morning to a missed text from Art.

7:58am - text from Art

Sorry if I woke you when I left. Gone to play hard court today hope you slept alright on that couch.

The sudden realisation that you were not in fact in your bed hit you almost as hard as the loose spring in your back. You groaned, reaching for some leftover pizza. None left. You groaned again.

9:26am - text to Art

Did you eat all your pizza?

To your surprise the boy replied immediately, showcasing his ability to read your mind.

9:27am - text from Art

Afraid so :) Look in the fridge if you’re so hungry

The fridge, despite the tightness of your apartment, had never looked so far away. You’d rather wait the nine hours for Art to return and pass food to you through a funnel. He could create some sort of feeding tube, perhaps he could fashion it out of one of the dozen tennis ball containers Patrick left lying around. You hadn’t seen the floor in years.

It took you almost thirty minutes to peel your lifeless body off the sofa and trudge the eight metres to the fridge. Before all of your fingers had grasped the cold metal you caught it. The smell.

The month you and Patrick were flat hunting had been a difficult one, full of stress and disappointments. A week before you found the flat you now called home, Art had found crying outside your favourite pancake place. You didn’t know if Patrick had texted him, giving him a heads up of your less than stellar mood and where to find you, or if he had simply ran into you by accident but one minute he was there.

The two of you had shared your favourite, strawberry and kiwi pancakes with whipped cream, despite having never spent time alone together previously and it hadn’t been awkward. Any awkwardness had come from your inability to keep your emotions to yourself and not a mess for all to see. Art hadn’t minded in fact, unbeknownst to you, he’d greatly enjoyed your company and had had a shitty day himself before your talk.

10:02am - text to Art

Did I ever mention I love you living here??

Sitting proudly in the fridge, in between Patrick’s abandoned pasta and your pathetic amount of cheese, was a plate of strawberry and kiwi pancakes. You looked at the pile of washing up and noticed essence of strawberry still dripping from the chopping board next to a whisk and bowl.

‘God damn…’ you actually moaned aloud at the first bite. Not only were they delicious but they’d been made especially for you for no reason. No one had ever made you breakfast before, unless you counted the time Patrick threw a box of muffins at your head to wake you up for school. It often didn’t take a great amount of effort to impress you, something maybe a therapist needed to hear about, but you felt justified being impressed with Art for this. They were truly wonderful.

10:20am - text from Art

Come thank me in person if you want, Liam is taking another break

You couldn’t help but smile at his little dig at Liam, whether intentional or not it told you everything you needed to know: Art was the better player. Art was always the better player, he usually wiped the floor with anyone who wasn’t Patrick.

It was only a twenty minute walk to Stanford and although you were ashamed to admit it … you had nothing better to do on a Saturday morning. You decided to pack your laptop, so you could kid yourself that this was a productive thing and not just an excuse to watch Art sweat. The damn thing wouldn’t even get opened and you knew it.

It was a hot day, even for Summer it was unforgiving. You pulled at your tank top, attempting to negate any sweat stains by leaving a gap between your wet skin and the thin fabric. No such luck, the car window reflection of yourself showed you the harsh reality. How did Art do it? How did he look sexy whilst sweating? You felt like a drowned dog, heaving and panting in the back of a muggy car trying to see past the drops of sweat in your lashes.

You reached Stanford earlier than you expected and to your great satisfaction, saw no Art present. That gave you ample time to tidy yourself up in the toilets before meeting him. The college had crisp air con, much better than the pathetic excuse for a fan you and Patrick would crowd round on hot days.

Art didn’t text you directions because he didn’t need to. He knew you’d visited Patrick enough times to know your way around all the tennis courts, hard or otherwise. It didn’t take you long to find the right one.

‘Fuck!’

You scanned the indoor courts for the source of the outburst. Art, third court from the left and he was not happy. For a moment you teetered on your feet, unsure if it was better to wait a bit before interfering with their clearly tense match. Before you could make a decision however-

‘Y/N!’

Liam spotted you, putting his racket down immediately to wave you over. He’d once gotten drunk and told Patrick how much he liked you but that it had been so long ago that you’d almost forgotten and his new girlfriend was a tennis star. On the ‘up and up’ as Patrick’s dad would say.

Although Liam’s hug was intense, sweaty and pretty uncomfortable you were too focused on Art to cringe. He was rubbing his face with his hands, looking more pained than you’d ever seen him. You didn’t know why. He’d been playing well before you arrived.

Noticing the object of your frown, Liam suddenly grinned even wider. ‘He just lost the third set.’ Art took a large swig of water, not noticing the way you stared in awe at the angle of his jaw and the wet curls on his forehead. He was too focused on the racket he was clutching fiercely enough to force the veins of his forearm to pull your attention.

‘I know it’s not over yet,’ Liam panted slightly, clearly Art had still run him ragged. ‘But this never happens - never.’ In the years they’d played together, Liam had never beaten Art. Not in singles or doubles. Not on hard court. Not on clay or grass. Never. You were not convinced, however, that poor Liam had never won a set before so you voiced your opinion without thinking.

‘Art, you can still win. It’s fine!’

Art shot you a glare. It didn’t last long but it burned you a little, the intensity of it. He wanted so badly for you to be right, for it to not matter to him. ‘It’s just a game’ well it wasn’t to Art. It was his entire future and if he lost - if he lost ever - it was him throwing that future away.

‘You’ll win the fourth.’ You smiled, reassuringly. That lifted Art a little and bruised his partner.

‘I thought we were stopping for a bit since Y/N’s here.’ Art watched your face for a reaction, daring you to decide for the three of them. Without removing your eyes from Art you smiled. ‘No, no. I’ll watch.’

You watched them play for another hour and a half. Art just won the fourth set, by the narrowest of margins but that gave him the confidence boost he badly needed to destroy Liam in the fifth. Th-wack! Smash. Th-wack! Slice. Th-wack! Topspin. You were honestly confused why Liam bothered serving. If it had been you - well - let’s just say the floor would have made a more than sufficient bed. It was certainly making a sufficient seat for you to watch Liam get massacred. God was Art good.

‘You win…’ Liam was dripping, his white shirt almost see-through. ‘I need a sec…’ So did you. It was practically a workout just watching them. You clapped as Art walked over to you, looking very satisfied with his win. ‘You happy now?’

‘Very.’

As Liam rung out his shirt, Art gestured to the court with his racket. ‘You and me. One game.’ His eyes were full of amusement.

‘Ha.’

You’d die.

‘One set?’ He smirked, desperate for you to humour him. Not today. ‘Absolutely not.’ You laughed, standing up.

‘Actually, I’d love lunch right now,’ Liam’s suggestion was a necessity. ‘After a shower.’ And so was his afterthought. They both needed one desperately. Art’s hair didn’t even look blonde anymore.

‘Yeah you two go, I’ll wait then we can get food. I’m not super hungry but I can always eat.’

Liam was already rushing to the showers, practically leaving a pool of loser evidence behind him but Art heard. He looked like he was waiting for something from you and for a moment, in your haze, you wondered what. Oh!

‘The pancakes,’

‘Hm.’

‘De-licious.’

‘Good.’

You could tell he was happier with your compliment than he was letting on. The truth was Art craved praise, mostly for tennis but for anything he accomplished. It didn’t matter if he’d made a three tier cake, organised a trip or won every set in a match he wanted to know he’d done good.

‘Seriously, how did you even find the recipe?’ The two of you walked together out of the hall. ‘I’ve been asking the staff for years, pretty sure they hate me now actually.’

‘I have my ways.’ He grinned. ‘Now, I’m gonna go shower-‘

‘Good, you stink.’

‘Fuck off.’

Chapter 4

Masterlist

Taglist: @gatorgirl007 @imblushingrn

[rukunas]

college!au drabble which is totally not a self-imagine. tw scummy/toxic eren

The library shouldn’t be this busy on a Saturday— you’d know. You’re always here around this time every week, trapped in the enclave of shelves and whiteboards and books, a huge stack of them propped next to your laptop. Indigo ink stains more than just your notebook, your palm a mosaic of blue hues. The scent is comforting, though, a stagnant presence as you flick through your anatomy textbook. Your brows narrow at the haphazardly-scribbled diagram of the hormone pathways— where the fuck is testosterone produced?

“Bro, she was all fuckin’ over you last night. Basically had you pinned up against the wall.” Laughs bark down the table you’re seated at. Despite the thick headphones you have on, you hear the voices loud and clear.

Testosterone is produced there. The collective fumes of luxury cologne scream Daddy’s Money™ and disrupt your bubble of productivity. Your forehead pinches again, this time in annoyance, knowing just what group of boys decided to have their own ‘study sesh’ on a Saturday afternoon, definitely hungover and waiting it out before heading to the game.

“D’ya think she still would have been all over me if she knew I had her best friend bent over the night before?” Another roar of laughter, this time accompanied with table banging and echoes of “No way, dude!”

It’s so incredibly clichéd, you can’t help but roll your eyes. There is no way men actually speak like that, as if these head-empty imbeciles could get a chance with a girl if they tried.

“No way, dude!” You huff lowly under your breath, amused by your precision at the tone. It was honestly pretty good, you have to pat yourself on the back for that one—

“What was that?”

A glance upwards forces you to meet a pair of forest green eyes, sharp and narrowed. The smirk settling right below makes you unsettled. Annoyed.

You play it cool anyway, tugging off your headphones and shrugging. “Didn’t say anything.”

“Didn’t seem like it.” He raises a brow. His friends snicker behind him, staring you down, waiting to see how the leader of the pack was going to tear you down, limb by limb.

You aren’t the biggest fan of Eren Yeager.

He’s actually, surprisingly, a fan favorite on campus. Somehow he’s always busy handshaking a guy or has a group of girls squealing and running up to him, bragging about how they’re his best friend— ugh. And he gets the grades to make the Dean’s List, becoming all chummy with the professors and even landing some hotshot internship. But you’re the only one who sees through his shit, catches him at times like this where he isn’t God’s gift to Earth and instead is a typical college frat boy— no, scratch that, definitely worse.

You take the high road and shrug once more, pulling your headphones back over your head. Silently, you pack your things, trying your best to ignore the heavy gaze on your silhouette of at least a pair of eyes watching you leave.

“You have got to fuck her.” Jean sighs. “Or I might. Isn’t she why we’re here anyway?”

Eren isn’t sure if his skin is heating up because of the call out or because of his possessiveness over you, despite the fact that he’s nothing to you. The way you look at him proves it, like he’s a wad of bubblegum sticking to the bottom of your shoe, like he’s the one that’s a nobody.

He knows your friends. Hangs out with them, fucks them occasionally. But not because he likes them— he just likes to keep tabs on you. Why? He doesn’t fucking know why. God, he wish he knew why. He does stupid shit like this, coming to the library on a fucking Saturday like a goddamn dork just because he knows you like how quiet it gets on the weekends. He is so infatuated with someone who won’t even look his way, someone who keeps a nose buried in school work and doesn’t even bat a lash at his looks, his jokes, anything?!?

And fine, maybe he’s also feeling a bit warm because of you.

World’s Biggest Blue Baller, yep, it’s you.

Nah. He’ll get you one of these days. Despite whatever game the two of you are playing, he will win. He knows it, feeling the certainty thrum in his blood. It’s why he’s the leader of his friends, the pack of the herd, the man of the men. Because when Eren Yeager has his mind set to what he wants, he’ll get it.

Besides, those quiet smart girls are always the most fun to break.

[water-loos]

Bad Idea, Right ?

“I know we’re done, I know we’re through, but, God, when I look at you…”

player!mean!steve harrington x fem!reader

series masterlist ; next chapter

cw: college au, MILD EMETOPHOBIA WARNING (mentions of gagging/pretending to vomit), vulgar language smut (p in v, creampie, unprotected sex), hate sex, arguing

wc: 5k

a/n: guys please be nice this is my first time writing full on smut

It was easy to change the code for your apartment building. It was easier to sit closer to the front of the class and start participating more as sort of a Steve repellent. Even deleting his number was a piece of cake after a couple of weeks.

What wasn’t easy, was going out.

Despite it being summer when all of the college kids normally went home to their hometowns, your group of friends that lived in your building chose to move to the city permanently and stay for the summer, all in the name of partying and being drunk in public. It had seemed fun at first, and you had been excited at one point.

Then, your friend Eddie said something in a casual conversation that ruined your entire summer.

“Yeah, by the way, Steve’s still holed up at his place. His roommate works 24/7 and doesn’t really do much, so he’s kind of been stuck. I think we should invite him to come out with us tomorrow,” He had suggested innocently, the situation between the two of you was kept so well under wraps that everyone but Alexandra had been kept in the dark. “What d’ya think?”

Well, Alexandra and her girlfriend, Robin. Who was Steve’s best friend. And had apparently been giving him hell about the way he treated you.

Eddie still sat beside you on the couch, sweet and clueless. You gulped before answering. “That’s fine. The more the merrier, right?”

“See! That’s what I told him, but he was all like “Well I don’t know you’d have to ask, you can’t just invite me to someone else’s plans”, which I think is a stupid mindset,” He gave a dramatic and frankly spot-on impression of Steve that almost made you laugh. “I’ll just tell him he should come.”

“Did you tell him who’s coming? Or just that it’s mystery plans?” Robin chirped in from the kitchen, shooting you a knowing look from over the back of Eddie’s head. “You know how he is with knowing everyone who’s at a function.”

“I did not, actually,” Eddie realized and whipped out his phone, flipping it open and clicking through his contacts to find his message thread with Steve. “I’ll text him right now. I don’t think he’s doing anything.”

You watched the screen diligently from where you were sitting, pixelated text bubbles popping up.

—

i just talked to everybody and they said you’re good to come out with us saturday

Who’s going?

rob, alex, nance, sean, jared, and alex’s roommate

—

You bit your thumbnail as you watched a typing bubble pop up, disappear, and then reappear for the next minute.

“He’s taking forever.”

“He always takes forever!” Robin called from the kitchen as Alex walked out from her room.

“What’s all the shouting for?” She grumbled, clinging onto Robin.

“I’m trying to get Steve to tell me if he’s coming out with us on Saturday,” Eddie explains and sends a few question marks in the message thread. “He keeps typing, and stopping, and typing again.”

Alex whips around and shoots you a wide-eyed glance. Eddie’s too enthralled in his phone to see you shoot one back.

—

I just realized I have a work thing that night.

Sorry.

—

“He says he has a work thing. He’s no fun,” Eddie sighs, shuts his phone, and tosses it onto the coffee table.

Your stomach churns and guilt fills your veins. When you cut Steve off, you didn’t want it to stop him from hanging out with everyone else. You’d rather not go and let him have fun instead.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, indicating you had received a text. Your blood ran cold at the possibility that Steve could be the one texting you, and you immediately handed Eddie the remote that was in your lap in favor of scrambling to open your messages.

You couldn’t help but deflate a little when you saw it was just Robin, asking you if you were alright.

—

u ok?

yeah, i’m fine rob, but can you do me a favor?

sure

what’s up

can you text steve and ask him if he’d consider going out with you guys if i don’t go

what

no i’m not doing that

u don’t have to do that

he’ll be fine

can you just do it? please? i don’t even want to go that badly

i’ll buy you food

please?

fine

but i don’t think U should have to not go out with UR friends bc he’s uncomfy

—

You clicked your phone closed and settled into your seat on the couch, trying to focus on whatever horror movie Eddie had put on. Your phone buzzed not even five minutes after you had closed it, prompting you to open it again.

This time, it was an unknown number.

Your heart just about stopped.

—

Why do you want me to go out with everyone on Saturday so badly?

because i feel bad for being the reason you won’t go

so i’ll not go so you can, eddie really wants you to go

What if I just don’t want to go at all?

i want to make my friends happy, steve

robin and eddie and alex love you, and everyone else will love you

i want them to have a good time and they will if you go

please just go, for their sake

I have a better idea.

Don’t go out with them, and come here.

—

You pause and consider it. It couldn’t be that bad if you did go over. You could bring the six-pack that was in the back of your fridge that you hadn’t had the heart to toss yet, and you two could watch a movie like before. As much as it was easy to separate yourself from him, from everything, you still laid in bed and cried almost every night because your comforter still held the smell of his cologne no matter how many times you washed it. You still had one of his zip-ups, and you kept it right on your bedside table. The Altoids tin with his last cigarette still rattled in your purse.

Your phone buzzed twice in your hand.

—

DONT DO IT. DO NOT. ISWEAR TO FUCKING GOD

don’t listen to him

—

You lifted your head to see Robin and Alex standing behind you, glaring. Alex made a motion of slicing her neck.

That was enough to make you snap your phone closed and go back to pretending to watch the movie.

But it couldn’t be that bad.

Right?

———————

Saturday rolled around, and you had pulled out all of the stops. You blew out your hair, shaved your entire body, and even picked out your favorite pair of jeans that hugged your body just right.

Everything was perfect.

Your friends stood in your apartment, bottles of liquor covered your island, and music was bumping. It was a good pregame, and the energy was high.

“Alright! Let’s get this show on the road people!” Eddie cheered, a shooter between his pointer finger and thumb. “One last shot and then we leave.”

Jared, who had been standing ahead of where you sat on the couch, turned to help you up. The smile that was on his lips faded quickly, and his face fell into a concerned expression in the blink of an eye. “Are you good?”

Step one was complete.

You shook your head slowly and opened your eyes, trying to look as helpless as you could. “I’m really dizzy. I don’t think I should have smoked that cigarette.”

“Oh, shit, Alex?” Jared turned and called for your roommate, who rushed over quickly. The chains that hung from her shorts jingled as she rounded the couch and bent before you. “I think they’re gonna be sick.”

“Babe, I told you not to smoke with Eddie,” She tutted, lips between her teeth.

Before she could say anything else, you jumped up from the couch and rushed to the bathroom with your hand over your mouth, slamming the door behind you.

Step two.

You sat down on the floor next to the toilet and pretended to gag, doing your best to have the sounds you were making reverberate and sound realistic.

You kept it up for a couple of minutes before groaning loudly and flushing, which Alex took as an okay to knock on the door.

“You okay?”

“No. Just go without me.”

“Are you sure? We can just do a night in—“

“It’s fine, Alex,” You croaked. “I’ll be fine. You guys go out and tell me all about it tomorrow. I just want to chill out for a while.”

“Okay, babe. Call me if you need anything,” She agreed quicker than you thought she would, and you could hear her walk away from the door.

Step three.

You waited the ten minutes it took for everyone to get out the door, listening diligently for the faint sounds of their overly loud drunken voices to disappear. You left the bathroom as soon as you heard the door close, and you watched from the crack in your curtains as they pranced down the street and around the corner.

That’s when you grabbed your bag, Steve’s zip-up, his six-pack of beer, sprayed one last drop of perfume and left your apartment.

———————

One tumultuous twenty-minute drive later, you stood in front of his apartment, tossing your hair with your free hand as you debated on knocking.

This was such a bad idea.

But it was fine because you were just returning the last of his things. You were going to give him his things and maybe one more piece of your mind, and then you’d leave and cry in bed. It was a foolproof plan.

So you decide to knock, two raps of the knocker. You adjusted your posture one more time and crossed your arms. It would be fine. It’s a quick trip.

Step four.

Then, the door opened. Steve Harrington stood there, smiling at you with a look that could send someone to their knees. His shoulder leaned against the doorframe, and he matched your posture. It made your heart ache.

“There you are, pretty,” He quipped, letting his eyes drag slowly over your frame. You hadn’t changed, and the strong A/C that escaped the open door rose goosebumps over the sliver of stomach that showed above your jeans and the swell of your tits that was exposed over your favorite going-out top. “Almost thought you wouldn’t come.”

You tried your best to roll your eyes and pushed past him into his apartment, arms still crossed. “I’m just here to drop off your shit. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“You dressed up just to bring over my things?” He shut the door behind you and followed you into the kitchen, where you set down all of his stuff. “Sure.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I might have plans after this? I don’t sit alone in my apartment like you do.”

“Oh, is that why Eddie called me?” He rounded the counter to stand in front of you, hands bracing either side of the counter outside of your hips. “Rambling about how I should ditch the work thing and come party because his favorite friend got sick after one cigarette?”

Shit.

He stepped closer once he saw your expression drop, one of his knees wedging between yours.

“I think we both know why you’re here, sweetheart.”

“You’re the one who texted me. Don’t act like this is my idea,” You said, voice wavering so slightly that you weren’t sure that he’d catch on.

“Oh, baby,” He tutted, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear and letting his hand trail down your neck. “I’m just feeling like the luckiest guy in the world, getting to be the one you get all prettied up for.”

You folded the second he pulled you closer, connecting your lips. It was like you were putty in his hands, and you were molded just for him. His hand almost gripped the back of your neck as your hands landed on the sides of his waist, anchoring him to you. The kiss was hot and hard like you were taking your first drink of water after walking through a desert. his other hand was quick to grasp your ass, pulling on it slightly as he groaned into the kiss.

“Wearing my favorite goddamn jeans,” He murmured into your lips, letting his hand smack your left ass cheek a little bit. “Just f’me.”

“Not for you,” You grumbled back but grabbed the front of his shirt and let your leg hook around his hip as he pressed you into the edge of the island. “Never for you.”

He chuckled and took one quick movement to set you atop the counter, letting you look down at him as his hands smoothed up your thighs. “I don’t think telling yourself that makes it any more true.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Aren’t you going to do that for me?”

You knocked his hip with your leg moderately hard, catching his attention. “I’ll walk out right now. This is the last time I’m ever dealing with your shit. I’m serious.”

He just blinked at you, eyes glazed over. But not with a realization that this was the end of you two. That’d be too easy.

That stupid smirk that haunted your dreams popped up on his lips seconds later.

“You’re so fucking hot when you hate me.”

He let his hand slip into the crease of your hips and thighs and all but smashed his lips into yours, groaning a little when your hands reached up to tug at his grown-out strands of hair. He was quick to pull you closer then, your legs wrapping around his hips as he leaned you across the counter. His lips started a burning and sloppy descent down your neck, his hands greedily grabbing at what he could of your ass. He nudged you further and further off the counter as you pulled him closer with both of your legs, and he was practically holding you soundly around his waist.

“You’re not fucking me on top of a counter, Harrington,” You breathed, a little less weight behind your words. “My back still hurts from your stupid car.”

“She’s not stupid,” He huffs against your neck and steps away from the counter, hosting you higher on his hips. “But have it your way.”

You scoff as he references his car as a ‘she’, but the annoyance doesn’t last long as he quickly turns the corner after the kitchen, goes into the first door on the right, and all but tosses you onto his bed. It’s huge and the comforter almost puffs out around you as he closes the door and locks it quietly. He wheeled around at light speed after that, as you positioned yourself, knees up and posed, the chunky heels of your boots digging into his navy sheets. You pulled in your shoulders and pushed out your chest, arms locked behind you.

The second you cocked your head at him, he froze, and you swore that he short-circuited.

“You just going to stand there and gawk at me?” You raised an eyebrow and watched his cheeks grow pink in the dim light of his bedside lamp. “Commit me to memory while you can.”

He was quick to step forward then, a surprisingly gentle hand reaching for your ankle. You watched silently as he slowly pulled down the zipper of one boot, slid it off, and placed it quietly on the shag rug beside the bed. He did the same for the other boot before kissing up the length of your calf and knee over your jeans, alternating legs. You let your arms drop to your elbows, entranced as he lowered your knees and made his way up your thighs, surprisingly tender as he almost worshipped your legs. The nature of it all made your chest tight, those feelings you swore to keep at bay swelling to the surface.

Once he reached your navel, he didn’t waste time letting his fingers grasp the edge of your top, pushing it up as he pressed gentle pecks all over the expanse of your stomach. His head didn’t rise as you carefully lifted your shirt over your head and let it drop to the floor. His pace quickened then as his kisses turned to love bites, his teeth sharp and his lips soothing. Your breath hitched as his hand skirted around your back and unclipped your bra with nimble fingers. He pushed the straps down your shoulders as you slipped them off one by one, the lace material dropping beside your top.

He left larger hickeys on the swell of your breasts and sternum as he trailed back down, fingers already popping the button of your jeans and skirting along the seam between your legs. You preened in response and lifted your hips, urging him to push the tight jeans over your plush hips already. This needed to be quick before the facade you’d built in the last twenty-four hours started to crack.

“Please.”

You whispered the word so softly that you almost didn’t know if he’d hear it, but it was like a switch flipped the second it left your lips. Your jeans were flying off your legs, white lace panties dragged with them. You were next, his hands moving to your calves and pulling you toward the edge of the bed, your legs dangling off the edge. The boy did nothing but drag a hand down the side of your now naked frame, smirk, and slowly lower to his knees between your legs. The sight alone made your core gush, clenching around air.

You were quick to scramble to your elbows, watching him retrace his earlier steps across the expanse of your legs, leaving tender kisses and gentle nips across your skin as he inched closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. He slowed even more, then, simply looking at your cunt, unmoving.

“Stop teasing me,” You huffed, leaning your head back for a moment. “You’ve seen me a million goddamn times.”

“You said to commit you to memory,” He replied nonchalantly. A finger came out of nowhere and circled your clit as he rested his head on the plush of your thigh. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

You whined softly, heartbeat quickening. “Do it faster, then.”

“You that eager to get in and out of here?” He scoffed, adjusting so that his thumb kept a slow, torturous pace on your clit, while the middle finger of his other hand began to circle your entrance, teasing delicately. You whined in response, more pissed off than anything.

“What do you think?” You huffed, attempting to shift your hips closer to him and urge his finger inside of you, but Steve simply moved his arm to bracket across your hips and hold you in place. “I didn’t come here to spend the night. Now, could you please just fucking touch me?”

You saw a flash of something in his eyes, something you’d never seen before, before his mouth was on you. His arms moved to loop around your thighs as he buried himself in your pussy, tongue running figure eights from your clit to your weeping entrance so harshly that you almost shouted. You moaned softly over and over as he almost ravished you, lewd wet noises ringing through his echoey bedroom. You had almost forgotten how good he was in bed, and how he was obsessed with eating you out. It was always his favorite part of your nightly routine. It might be yours too.

Your heart ached the second you thought about how you had missed him, and you squeezed your eyes shut to wave those thoughts away. You tried to focus on the pleasure building up as an orgasm crept up on you, your moans turning into soft gasps.

“Fuck,” Your elbows ached behind you as you let yourself fall back onto the bed, hands twisting into the sheets below you. His arms kept your hips locked in place as you tried to squirm and give yourself a little more friction against his tongue. His pace had turned slow, but not any less passionate as he took his sweet time switching between sucking on your clit and dipping his tongue around and into your entrance. “Don’t stop, if you stop I’ll lose my shit—“

All of a sudden, two fingers were slipping into you and curling against your g-spot, making you squeak and writhe in place as the feeling of your orgasm slammed your senses. Your breathing turned erratic as he lapped up your cum and helped you ride out the high, your head elbows falling out from underneath you.

“That’s one way to get you to shut up,” He snorted, standing from his kneeling position. His hair wasn’t as wild as it normally was after he spent time between your thighs— the sight of him looking like he’d got ready two minutes ago made your heart ache. But, you were somehow glad you managed to keep your hands off of him. It meant you still had your self-control.

“You’re such a dick,” You scoff, chest heaving as you pushed yourself up onto your hands. You watched his eyes follow the way your tits jiggled as you did so, and rolled yours. “You planning on fucking me, or are we done here? I could still make it to the bar if I catch a cab.”

His face stayed stagnant and slightly flushed, but his eyes managed to widen ever so slightly. “You weren’t kidding.”

Jackpot.

“What made you think I was kidding?” You laughed slightly, even though you felt sick. You sat up fully then, closing your legs and crossing your arms with as much confidence as you could muster. “Look, Steve. I came here for two things: to drop off the last of your stuff, and to get off. It’s not that deep. If you want to jack off on your own time that’s perfectly—“

He was flinging his shirt off and rushing to unbuckle his belt in the middle of your sentence, and was on top of you before you could say “Fine”. He pushed your back onto the bed and his lips latched onto yours in a bruising kiss, one hand manhandling your chin as the other held him up beside your head. His hips pressed your legs apart once more, the rough fabric of his jeans giving your still-sensitive clit some much-needed friction as he rocked with the kiss.

“You think I’m going to choose not to fuck you when you’re sitting right in front of me?” He mumbled against your lips and rocked his hips again. “With a pussy like yours? Not a fucking chance.”

Your hand slipped down to palm over his bulge and gripped him through his pants suddenly, a small gasp falling from his lips as he pulled away from the kiss. “I liked this so much better when you didn’t open your fucking mouth.”

Before he could bite back, your deft fingers made quick work of popping the button of his jeans, then pulling down the zipper in record time. His other arm came down beside your head to hold him up as he watched you between your bodies, your ring-clad fingers pushing his jeans and boxers down enough for his dick to spring free. You tried your best to not openly moan at the familiar sight of him after so long and gave him a couple strokes as your other hand continued to push his jeans and boxers down further.

“You still on the pill?” He huffed, pupils blown wide as he looked up at you. That confident man that had just made you cum in two minutes flat was long gone, and you were left with a puddle of a boy, ready to do whatever you asked. “Please say yes. Need to feel you.”

You gulped at the sight and continued to feed into this confident facade you were putting on. “I have no reason to not be on it.”

He blinked, his eyes flashing with that emotion you couldn’t place again before he kissed you deeply once more. You took the opportunity to shift your hips and guide his tip toward your entrance, tapping his side to signal he could push in. He did so as slowly as possible, his cheeks pink as he pulled away and looked between your bodies, watching you stretch around his length. “Fuck. I’ve missed this.”

Your throat grew tight as he bottomed out, your hands landing on the bed, just outside of where he braced himself on his forearms. You adjusted quickly to his size, which you had forgotten about, but then, all of those emotions you had been trying to desperately push aside started to arise. Your eyes pricked with tears, and you tried your best to close your eyes and pretend you weren’t about to cry during this.

“Move, please,” You whispered, trying your best to keep your voice even. “C’mon, Steve. Do what you do best.”

He didn’t react to the jab and rolled his hips, barely pulling out. Just how you liked him— grinding inside of you like you were one. It made your tears come on faster, your eyes squeezed shut as you willed yourself to get it together. Your moans grew watery and quiet, your throat thick with emotion as he rutted into you, his hair finally flopping down toward your face. He stayed like that for a brief moment before reaching for your legs and urging them higher on his hips, giving him more space to pull out and ram back into you.

The pleasure you were feeling was almost blinding, but no matter how much you willed yourself not to let your tears fall, you could feel droplets leaking from the outer corners of your eyes with every harsh thrush and whine that fell from your lips. Your chest hurt with your feelings as you felt another orgasm rapidly approaching, your fingers twisting again in Steve’s bedsheets once more.

Then he stopped. He stopped at the end of a particularly hard thrust, his tip pressing against your g-spot, making you squirm and finally open your eyes to look at him in surprise.

“Are you crying? What’s wrong?” His voice was soft, eyes searching your face with concern. “D’you need me to stop?”

“I’m fine, keep going,” You huffed, squeezing your eyes shut again. “Don’t worry about me, just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Am I hurting you? What’s going on—“

“Please, god, just keep going, Steve!” You exclaimed, voice breaking. “Come on. Please.”

“You promise you’re okay?” He asked again, voice almost a whisper. One of his hands came up to brush your wild hair away from your face. “Promise me and I’ll keep going.”

“I promise,” You squirmed, letting out a whimper as you did so. “Please, Steve.”

With your promise, he was pulling out and quickening his pace, his hips all but slamming in and out of you as you moaned beneath him, eyes closed once more as you willed your orgasm to come any faster. With one sharp thrust, and one more press against your g-spot, you were cumming so suddenly that you swore your saw stars, and Steve followed seconds later. Your moans mingled as his body weight came down on top of you, a grounding weight as you both recovered from your climaxes.

Your tears only got worse when you felt him try to wrap his arms around you and roll the two of you over, but you kept your back on his bed and gently pushed away his arm with a shake of your head. The look in his eyes, that emotion you had seen in his eyes returning, made you feel sick as you sat up in bed. It took you a moment to gain the strength to swing your legs over the side of the bed and rise to your feet.

You ignored his piercing gaze as you wiped the tears from your face, collected your clothes from around the room, and let yourself into his en-suite bathroom. You tried to ignore the sound of him rising from bed as you cleaned his cum from between your legs and redressed yourself, trying your best to keep your composure until you at the very least got to your car.

He knocked on the door just as you finished fixing your hair, your hands gripping on the edge of his marble countertop.

“Can we talk? Please?” He asked at the door. “You can’t just leave after that. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

With one last deep breath, you opened the door and pushed past him. “That’s exactly what I’ll be doing. I have no reason to stay.”

“But you never left after before,” He huffed, blocking the doorway momentarily.

“That’s because I wanted to be around you, Steve,” You bit back.

“Obviously you wanted to be around me ten minutes ago when you were in my bed,” A scoff left his lips as you pushed past again into the hallway of his apartment. You bristled at his words, wheeling around on your heel.

“I came here to fuck, Steve. I didn’t come here to be around you,” You said evenly, your eyes boring into his. “You gave me an opportunity, and I took it. That’s all this is. That’s all it ever was, right?”

“It’s not like that—“

“You don’t get to be butthurt when you get a taste of your own medicine. I’m leaving, and you can go fuck yourself from now on,” You turned back around and reached for your thumb, where the last piece of Steve in your life laid. A gold signet ring with his initials carved into it in ornate cursive, perfectly sized for his ring finger, and your thumb. You pulled it off with ease, tossed it onto the counter, grabbed your keys that had fallen out of your pocket earlier, and headed for the door.

“So this is it?” He asked from the far side of the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest. “This is the last time I’m seeing you.”

“Whatever this is was over months ago, Steve,” You snorted and opened the door, soaring one last glance over your shoulder at his shirtless frame. “You need to get over it.”

———————

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!actor!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k words

warnings: asshole!steve, explicit language, alcohol use, drunk!steve, angst 

summary: you still don’t like him and he doesn’t like you, but things are a bit more bearable. and when steve is drunk and needs your help, you actually decide to help him

CHAPTER THREE | ❝𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅❞

As minor as it was, that night at Steve’s apartment changed something over the next few weeks. 

Of course, you still didn’t like him and he didn’t like you— that was something that you knew would take a lot to change— but it felt a bit different now. That hint of animosity you felt for each other was channeled into you matching his asshole nature with a quippy attitude of your own, and him not seeming to mind you doing so. 

It made things feel a little more bearable, and you actually found yourself not hating every single moment of being his assistant. But you still ended each day feeling exhausted because of the fact that you were juggling doing two jobs and working yourself to death to make sure everything was right; there were barely any moments where you could actually get a breather. 

You found yourself cherishing sleep more than you probably ever had before. The barely six hours you’d get pretty much became the highlight of your nights, as depressing as that probably sounded. Therefore, when you were abruptly woken up in the middle of the night by the loud sound of your phone ringing, you groaned. 

You rolled on your side to grab it and saw that the call was coming from a random number.  

Somehow your mind immediately went to your parents. You didn’t talk to them a lot, for reasons that you tried not to dwell on too often, but you couldn’t help but think that a call from a random number in the middle of the night usually never meant anything good and most of the time it was a family related not-good thing. 

“Hello?”

“Hey.” It was Steve’s voice on the other side. 

You let out a small sigh in relief and then quickly became a little annoyed. “It’s one in the morning on a Saturday. This better be good, Harrington.”

“So, I, uh, need a little help,” He said, and there was something about the sound of his voice right then that fully woke you up. 

You sat up in your bed and a small laugh almost fell from your lips. “Oh, my God. Are you drunk right now?” 

Steve being drunk was something you never thought you’d see, or in this case, hear. In fact, the possibility of that happening never once crossed your mind because he seemed way too serious for that. You could see him having the occasional drink here and there, but full-on drunk seemed like a stretch. 

“I hate how happy you sound about this,” He said with a scoff. “But, anyway, I can’t drive right now and my phone is dead so the bartender is letting me use his to call someone to pick me up.” 

Hearing that confused you, making your eyebrows furrow. “I’m the only number you know by heart?”

“I don’t have you saved in my phone so anytime I text or call you I see your number and I've accidentally remembered it at this point,” He explained. 

“Of course that’s the reason,” You responded with a roll of your eyes that you wish he could’ve seen. “Do you even know my name?”

He sighed at that. “Of course I do, I swear I hear someone say it at least five times a day when they drone on and on about how helpful you were at solving some issue or whatever the fuck else on set.”

You smirked at how annoyed he sounded. “Aw, are you jealous that you’re not the star of the show?”

“Well, I am the lead of the movie, so maybe I am a little jealous.”

“I’m quite flattered.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” He said and somehow you could practically hear him rolling his eyes. It was both hilarious and satisfying to know just how much you got under his skin even when he was drunk. “Are you gonna come or what?”

You mock gasped. “Wow, that’s really not the way to talk to someone that you need help from. Especially when that someone is really only supposed to be available to you during filming hours. And last time I checked, a night shoot isn’t scheduled until this Wednesday.”

“Can you please help and come pick me up?” He asked in the most deadpan voice you probably ever heard. 

“For an award winning actor, the delivery on that line was pretty shitty,” You said as you laughed a bit. “But, I’ll still come get you. What’s the name of the bar?”

“Uh, I actually don’t remember. Hold on a second.” You could hear the phone being placed down as Steve began talking to who you assumed was the bartender; you could barely hear whatever they were saying. “Okay, it’s called Ace of Spades.”

You put him on speaker and then went to look up the bar. “What the hell? It says it’s an hour away.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”  

“Jesus Christ,” You said and shook your head as you shut your eyes because you desperately wanted to go back to sleep. “Why did you go there?” 

“Wanted to lessen my chances of potentially getting recognized. The paparazzi would have a field day with this shit.”

That actually made a lot of sense, but you refused to tell him that. 

You got out of bed and began rummaging around in your closet for a pair of sweatpants to slip on over your pajama shorts along with a jacket. “I’m coming now.”

“Thanks,” He said before you hung up. 

That was the only completely serious “thank you” you’d ever gotten from him, and of course, you knew it was only because he was drunk. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The bar was in what felt like the absolute middle of nowhere and it also felt like the sort of place a horror movie would start in. 

The parking lot was practically empty aside from a few cars, one of which you knew was Steve’s, so when you walked in, it was unsurprising to see that the place was also empty. However, you were surprised, or more so creeped out, by the amount of “country” vibes the place emulated; cowboy hats littering the walls along with American flags. There was even a massive deer head hanging up that you inwardly cringed at before turning your attention to the bartender standing behind the counter.   

“Hey, I’m looking for–” Before you could even finish your statement he nodded his head in the direction of the series of booths that were a few feet away, one of which Steve was sitting at with his head down in his folded arms. You gave the bartender a small, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

You sat down across from Steve and leaned back in the booth. You simply looked at him for a brief moment before nudging his leg with your foot underneath the table. “Steve.” 

He only mumbled something that you couldn’t make out and burrowed his head further in his arms. 

With a small sigh, you reached out and began poking his head until he finally sat up and looked at you. “Oh, hey.”

The way he said the two simple words made it sound as if he was surprised to see you sitting in front of him.  

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. “Hi? Do you not remember calling me?” 

“Vaguely, yeah,” He said and when you scoffed with a shake of your head, he only smiled at you. “I’m kidding, I remember it very clearly. Me needing your help, and you being pissed at me calling. I feel like that’s how most of our phone calls go, actually.” 

You rolled your eyes at how he easily simplified all of your conversations. “The only reason I’m ever pissed when I talk to you is because you’re being a dick.”

He completely disregarded your statement. “Nice shirt, by the way.”

Confused at his words, you looked down at the shirt you had on. It was a white t-shirt that had the Pepsi logo on it, but it said “Sexsi” in the middle of it instead of “Pepsi.” You’d completely forgotten you were wearing it. 

You crossed your arms over your shirt. “I still can just leave you here, y’know.”

“That would suck.”

You almost laughed at that response because he somehow seemed even more drunk than when you talked to him on the phone. And it had been an hour, so he should’ve been at least a little less drunk at this point.

“Did you drink more after we talked?” 

“Ben wanted to cut me off, but I tipped him really big so I could get two final shots,” Steve answered with a smile. “I’m just realizing that his name is Ben the Bartender. That’s honestly pretty fucking cool.”

“Oh, my God. I can’t believe this is happening right now,” You mumbled. A part of you wanted to laugh while the other part of you just wanted to stare at him in disbelief. “If you puke in my car, I will leave you on the side of the highway.” 

“Very, very harsh,” He responded as he leaned back and closed his eyes, but only for a moment because you gave him another nudge under the table.  

“Come on, let’s go,” You said before slipping out of the booth. “You can walk okay, right?”

Steve rolled his eyes at you as if he was offended by your question and then stepped out of the booth, but he only made it a few steps before he stumbled a bit. You sighed as you moved closer to his side, draping one of his arms around your shoulders and wrapping one of yours around him. You started leading him toward the door. 

“Wait, you paid your tab, right?” You asked, but before giving Steve a chance to answer you, you turned your attention toward Ben who was still standing behind the bar and was now cleaning up. “He paid his tab, right?”

“Yeah, he’s all good,” Ben responded and you nodded, glad that you didn’t have to worry about that. You kept heading toward the door and then he spoke again before you pushed it open. “You’re a good girlfriend.”

You knew that you’d never see this guy again so you didn’t care enough to correct the mistake. Instead, you gave him a weak smile and just continued leading Steve out of the bar and toward your car. 

Steve laughed a bit as he settled in the passenger seat. “He thought you were my girlfriend?”

“Shut up,” You said and then handed him a water bottle that you had grabbed from your fridge because you knew that he’d probably need it. “Drink this.” 

He nodded before taking a few sips and then placing the bottle in his lap. “Can I charge my phone?”

“Yeah, the cord’s right there.” You pointed to the center console. 

You had been driving for no more than fifteen minutes before you got stuck in traffic that was nothing like what you experienced driving to the bar. There was a bunch of construction happening that, according to a sign, was going to go on for the next twenty miles. 

“I truly deserve a fucking raise for doing this,” You said as you slumped back in your seat. Your car was barely moving above ten miles per hour. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Steve said in a tone that sounded completely unserious and sarcastic, and then he reached over to pat your head.

You glared harshly at him. “Don’t ever do that again.”

He only laughed a bit at your annoyance and then nodded his head. “Got it.”

From there, you both allowed silence, aside from the music softly playing on the radio, to take over the car, which you were fine with. In fact, you’d take complete silence over hearing whatever dumb drunk comments Steve would make. 

But after only a few minutes of that, you were reminded of a question that had been on your mind probably since he called you. “What were you doing at a bar, anyway?” 

Your question was met with nothing but more silence, and for a moment you actually felt bad asking that question because maybe it was a touchy subject for him. But when you looked over at Steve, you saw that he was fast asleep; eyes shut and leaning back against the headrest. 

You let out a small sigh and continued driving, still barely moving anywhere over the next ten minutes. Conveniently, that was when Steve’s phone started vibrating in the cup holder where he placed it. You glanced down and saw that he was getting a call from someone named “Robin,” and you simply watched as it continued to ring and then went to voicemail. 

You expected that to be it, but then his phone started ringing again from the same person. You hesitated for a brief moment before letting it go to voicemail that time as well. But, it was on the third call that you decided you needed to answer it because apparently Robin really wanted to talk to Steve and maybe them calling multiple times meant that it was important. 

You placed the phone at your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi,” It was a girl’s voice on the other end. “Uh, who is this?”

You could understand her confusion so you quickly said, “I’m Steve’s assistant.”

“You don’t sound like Sheila.”

You were startled by the sudden sharpness of her words, and you quickly came to the conclusion that maybe you shouldn’t have answered the call. You took a breath before speaking again. “Sheila is pregnant and on bed rest, so I’m his assistant for the time being.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I forgot she was pregnant.” Robin said and then sighed. “Sorry for being kinda hostile. Steve’s my best friend, and it’s still so weird having a friend that’s famous. I’m never sure if I’m talking to a normal person or his stalker who’s kidnapping him. Glad to know you’re not a kidnapper.”

“I’m glad too? Sorry, I don’t really know how to respond to that, but I think I get what you mean,” You let out a small laugh and took a quick glance over at Steve and saw that he was, unsurprisingly, still sleeping. “But, Steve’s unavailable right now, so I can tell him to call you back, or I can give him a message if you want, I guess?”

“Yeah, um, just tell him that we missed him at Nancy and Jonanthan’s wedding, and we all wish he could’ve been here.”

Hearing that managed to both confuse and surprise you, but you still nodded your head even though she couldn’t see you. “Okay, got it. I’ll tell him.”

Somehow it was easy to hear the smile in her voice as she said, “Thanks.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” You responded and the call ended from there. 

You took another glance at Steve as you put his phone down back in the cup holder, and it was then that you realized how little you actually knew about him. Yes, the news articles that were centered around him told you things and even the short conversations you’d had with him over the past few weeks of being his assistant told you some stuff too, but none of it really told you anything.

It didn't tell you about his life outside of the film industry and Hollywood, and it definitely didn’t tell you that he was missing out on important moments with friends and family because of filming and everything that came along with it.

Maybe that was what led him to the bar; feeling something that resembled homesickness because he was missing out on an important moment for people that were his friends— or maybe even family; you were unsure of who exactly Nancy and Jonathan were. 

You knew how lonely of a job this whole acting thing could be, you’d been working in the film industry for so long that it was way too easy to see that; and sometimes it was even easier to feel it so harshly in your own way. You couldn’t even remember the last time you actually hung out with friends or accepted an invitation to do something fun with them. Instead, your mind was always on your job, focused fully on production and making sure everything was running smoothly. 

There were little moments where you hated how much you let the job consume your life— surely there was a better way to balance it all— but seeing everything come together in the end made it all worth it in your mind. You wondered if Steve felt the same way too. 

But, if that was the case, then he probably wouldn’t be drunk in your passenger seat on the same night that he was missing out on a wedding that his friends and family all wished he could’ve been at. 

Or maybe that was exactly why he was drunk in your passenger seat. He’d rather drink to avoid the sadness, and maybe even that all too familiar feeling of loneliness, rather than face it or even dwell on it because he believed that all of this would be worth it in the end. 

You were unsure of how right that assumption was— perhaps it was your sleep deprived brain making him seem more human than he actually was— but that potentially delusional thought still managed to change something for you. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was the sound of your front door opening that slightly woke you up. And then it was you realizing that you shouldn’t even hear your front door opening from your bedroom that fully woke you up and made you immediately remember that you had decided to sleep on the couch. 

Many hours earlier, after enduring a near ninety minute drive back to LA, you decided to bring Steve back to your place; mainly because it seemed like it would’ve been too much work to lug him up to his own apartment, and also because, for some reason, it didn’t feel right to simply leave him and go. You let him take your bed and prayed to God that he wouldn't throw up in it before you settled yourself on your couch and immediately fell asleep. 

Now, hours later, you were awake but still a bit bleary-eyed as your attention turned toward the door and you saw Steve shut it behind him. 

He offered you a small smile as you took in the sight of him. Two drinks balancing in one of those cardboard cup holder things in one hand, and a bag with the words “Tommy’s Coffee” branded on the side of it in his other— it was the same place where you would get his coffee and breakfast sandwich from practically every morning. 

Steve set everything on the dining room table. “I had it delivered.”

You nodded at that and walked over to him, the blanket that you pulled from your linen closet to sleep with last night still wrapped around you. 

The exchange was silent. Steve handed you the slightly smaller drink and then a wrapped up breakfast sandwich, and you watched as he took a sip of his own coffee and sat down. 

You took a long sip of yours and almost sighed in contentment at how perfect it was, and then you unwrapped the breakfast sandwich and saw that it was exactly what you would always get. 

Things stayed quiet as you both started eating, and it was a silence that felt weird and awkward. Mainly because what was happening right then was completely unchartered territory. A part of you thought that you’d wake up and he’d just be gone; like the drunk incident never happened and neither of you would bring it up come Monday or any day after that. You definitely didn’t expect to be eating breakfast with him, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that meant you were supposed to discuss last night. 

Finally, you decided to speak, but not about what would’ve probably made sense to talk about. “How did you know what to get me?”

“Whenever you give me my coffee and food, the receipt is on the bag, and it shows what you ordered for yourself,” He answered and that response actually surprised you, but you wouldn’t ever tell him that. 

“Very observant,” You said and then took another sip from your coffee. You fully expected him to follow up with saying something about how he only remembered your order because it “sucked,” the opening was right there for him to make that sort of annoying comment, but he didn’t. “Um, thank you for this, though.”

Steve shook his head at you as if you shouldn’t have been thanking him. “Thanks for last night. I don’t remember a lot of it, but still,” His shoulders upturned in a small shrug. “You also really didn’t have to let me take your bed.”

“The couch sucks for tall people, and I didn’t want to subject you to that,” Your answer was only partially true, you mainly gave him your bed because, despite everything, you felt bad for him. If he was sad or lonely or whatever else, it would’ve sucked waking up on your old couch which you’ve had for years and probably should’ve gotten rid of at this point. 

“Oh, also,” You started and then immediately stopped talking because you were unsure how to continue. You looked away from him for a brief moment; you were nervous and you hated that you were. “Uh, when you were asleep in my car last night your phone was ringing a lot, so I answered it because I thought maybe it was important. It was Robin, she said she was your friend. She also told me to tell you that you were missed at Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding and everyone wishes you could’ve gone. You should probably call her back when you get the chance.”

He only nodded before simply saying, “Okay,” and then took another bite of his sandwich. 

You became even more nervous, and equally confused, at the fact that things were so normal right then. And it was far from the normal that you’d become so used to with him; he wasn’t mad or annoyed at you, and he was actually being somewhat nice to you and not at all an asshole. 

That made you further think that what you assumed last night was the truth. And there was something about his demeanor right then that told you that maybe he was still a little sad about it all. 

“You know if you had wanted to go to the wedding, I'm sure Jessie would’ve been okay with pushing filming back; she's really understanding of personal stuff. And plus, we’re actually a bit ahead on filming so it probably would’ve been okay having a break for a day or two.”

“It’s not…” He trailed off and shook his head. “It’s not that.” 

It was easy to tell that he didn’t want to talk about it— the wedding, his friends, that part of his life that didn’t involve acting— so you didn’t push him further on any of it, although you were so fucking curious. 

“Okay,” You said softly and then cleared your throat. “So, your car is still stranded at the bar. We should probably go get that.” 

“You don’t have to come. I can figure out another way to get it.” 

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. But I refuse to make that drive three times in a row, so you can drive there and I’ll sleep in the passenger seat.” 

He laughed a bit, it was a sound that was so foreign to your ears but you didn’t mind it. “Honestly, that’s a very fair deal.”

It felt weird to genuinely smile at him but you did so anyway. 

You were unsure what was happening right then, and what things would be like Monday felt like a mystery to you. A part of you wanted it all to go back to how it had been— him being rude and you dealing with it— because this Steve in front of you wasn’t the one that you’d grown to know over the past few weeks.

But then you once again remembered that you actually didn’t really know him. And maybe now you were finally getting a glimpse into that. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

next chapter!

[beaker1636]

P is for Pearl Necklace - Vinny

AN: What's that? Double update today! Happy Smutty Saturday!

The next day at band practice the guys are all laughing at Chris, finding it hilarious that it was an accidental thing that made him lose his round.  Rick cracking a joke about how you’d think that Chris was the youngest member, the one who still lacks self control, earning him a water bottle thrown at him by Chris.

Vinny laughs watching the scene unfold, but refuses to pitch in with making fun of his singer, not wanting to make the man upset with him because it’s his turn to get a letter and he doesn’t want to make him go any harder on himself than he already could be.  He knows that sometimes it's better to shut his mouth, to keep quiet and that right now is one of those moments. Plus he’s focused on everything that is happening right now, the practice they are supposed to be having despite the fact that half the group is goofing around.  They haven’t played together in a couple weeks and need this before their performance at the festival tomorrow.

He is so glad when he hears Chris say something about focusing on practice, getting everyone back on track so that they can continue to work through things before tomorrow, luckily the festival is in PA so they don’t have to travel far for it, and can all spend the night in their beds.  In fact it has become a little thing, all of the girls have decided they are going to go as well so that it can be a fun little trip for everyone together.  

And now they are practicing again, Vinny in his element as he focuses on what he is currently doing, something that makes him comfortable.  He honestly just wants to get this done so he can go home, rest before they are stuck on the road tomorrow.  Luckily they finish running through the set list and feel comfortable enough to end it for the day, helping the crew load up everything on the trailer and now they’re just sitting around, having something to eat before they all leave.  

Chris stops after taking a sip of his water before glancing towards Vin.  “I’m in a decent mood right now so I’ll go easy on you, Pearl Necklace. Nothing that crazy or hard… mostly so you are well rested tomorrow.”

“Why does everything I get always have to do with oral? I swear to god, altoids, face sitting, now this…. “ Vin grumbles, looking down at his box of chinese food with a grimace. “I mean I guess it could be worse, it’s not like she’s never blown me but”

“You’re complaining all you have to do is get head.. Are you fucking nuts?” Ryan asks with a grumble, unable to believe it.  Why would Vinny complain he got something easy, what the actual hell is wrong with him?

“No, I’m just… I am glad I haven’t gotten anything crazy but I feel like I am missing out on some of the fun I guess..” Vinny answers honestly.

“Be glad….” Chris says with a grumble, thinking about last night again as he takes another bite of his food with a sigh.  “Okay, anyway, tomorrow just show me a photo of her necklace, yeah? You can hide her face and shit like just a close up but I want to see it to know you did it.” 

“Of course that is how you want me to prove it you pervert,” Vinny says with a groan, moving to throw his empty containers away before walking out for the night, ready to just head home.

Later

“Hey Lot,” Vin says as he makes his way into the house towards you, glad that you may not have officially moved in but you are pretty much living with him regardless.  He loves getting to come home to you at night whether it be your apartment or his.

He gives you a kiss, one of his hands resting on your cheek for a moment before he looks at you with a smile.  You still have your makeup on from work, look so pretty right now to him.  You always do but right now more than usual, maybe it's because you look so happy right now compared to how you have been lately, he isn’t sure but he loves it.

“You look beautiful tonight Lottie, I-I’m not sure what’s different about you today but you do look great tonight,” he says, leaving a kiss on your forehead while he pulls you into a hug for a moment, wanting to be close to you. 

“You sure you’re not just sucking up for your next letter?” You tease, knowing that isn’t what this is.  Here lately the two of you are closer than ever and it is honestly nice, the little trip has seemed to help and allowed both of you to express your true thoughts and feelings, brought you even closer together. 

“Well that too, but no, you genuinely look wonderful today.  I like it when you look happy, you always look beautiful but more so when you are happy.” He says with a smile before pulling away from you, leaving a slight squeeze on your ass through your jeans with a chuckle when you look annoyed.

“Go take a shower sweaty, then you can tell me your letter and we can get started yeah? Considering we all have a long drive tomorrow it’s probably better than waiting okay?” You ask, glancing at him for a moment. 

When he nods and starts to walk away you smile at him, happy that he seems to be in a good mood, that he is happy himself.  You were worried practice might not go well after a few weeks off, but it must have because he seems to be having a decent day. It makes you happy to see him in a decent mood, he looks cute when he's happy. 

You settle in his bedroom, taking a seat on the bed, reading while you wait for him to finish his shower. You get distracted while you wait, not realizing that he has finished his shower until he takes a seat next to you.  

Damp hair, in a clean pair of boxers and nothing else… fuck, your boyfriend is attractive like this. Or is that just the fact the romance novel you were reading just had a really smutty scene you just finished… or both?  Either way you shamelessly check out your boyfriend where he sits next to you, not caring if he notices.

“Like what you see?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips as you look over at him.  Catching you in the act as you let your eyes run over his body. Instantly making you flush and glance away, caught.

“Maybe I do, have a problem with that?” you ask, trying to sound more confident than you currently feel.

“I’d say do something about it… wait, I never told you what our letter is.  Chris was pretty generous, it's just a pearl necklace, and I know you know what that means because of the books you read.  Thing is.. After I give it to you I have to take a photo to show him.” He says, fingers ghosting along your thigh that is barely covered by the shorts you have on.

“Hmmm, okay.  I’m game,” you respond, settling yourself on your knees in front of him.  Looking up at him as you slowly ghost your hands over his little bit of the bulge that is starting to grow.  “It’s me paying you back for our letter F huh?”

You tease, lightly slipping your fingers underneath the band of his boxers enough to feel it but not enough to actually touch him, wanting to toy with him a little bit.  You’re feeling confident for once and it definitely shows.  You decide to lighty run your fingers along his length as you slowly slide his boxers down his thighs, your eyes watching his as you do.

You smile, realizing he's already hard for you and you’ve barely touched him. He’s always really responsive, ready to go for you and you love it.  Love that you don’t have to try that hard to make him want you.  You can feel his eyes on you as your hand wraps around him, lightly stroking him to bring him standing the rest of the way before you lower your head.  You tongue leaves teasing trails down the length of him before you then circle the head with it a couple times.  Happy when you hear him groan softly as you tease him, letting you know that you are getting to him, which is your goal.

“I’m getting to you aren’t I?” You ask, watching him as you continue to tease him.  

“Fuck baby, yeah you are,” he says softly, one of his hands threading in your hair to pull it back from your face so he can see you easier.

You finally wrap your lips around him as you slowly take more of him, moving a bit lower along his length as you slowly bob your head, not quite giving him enough and knowing it.  You want to see how far you can push him before he gets rougher with you, gets annoyed and takes over.  

The answer is not much, because he slowly uses his hand that is in your hair to gently push you down further, making you take all of him as you try to relax around him, gagging slightly but trying to control it the best you can for him as he slowly uses his hold to help you move along his length, but not enough to make it uncomfortable.  You still have a majority of the power here as you do as he wants, him not taking control from you quite yet but you hope that changes soon.

“Can I?” He asks you, you know exactly what he is asking and nod.  Backing away from him slightly so he has room to stand up and do what he wants to with you, you are just as excited about it as he is.

This time when you take him back in your mouth his hand in your hair holds you in place as he starts to rock his hips, working himself as he sees fit in your mouth, slowly at first but then going harsher.  Knowing that you can take his cock like a good girl and let him fuck your face with it as he sees fit.

“You look so pretty like that, tears running down your face as you try not to choke around me,” he praises, his thrusts getting harsher, finding himself growing closer.

There's something about seeing you down on your knees, so willing to let him use you for what he needs, how he sees fit that makes you that much more attractive to him.  Makes him want this that much more.

Eventually he stalls when he pulls you all the way down on him, able to feel your throat swallowing around him on instinct for a moment before pulling back, watching you closely as you choke on him.  Knowing that he has this power of you right now, you’re letting him do this.   That’s all it takes for him to fully go for it, now chasing his high as it grows closer and closer as he uses you, thrusting rather harshly now as he hits his end.  Quickly pulling out of you and holding your head back so that he can finish against your throat, meeting his end of the deal as he watches it slowly start to run down your body. Realizing he still needs his photo as proof he quickly takes the photo and then runs off to find you something to clean yourself off with, helping you do so as you move to sit on the bed. 

He also has a second damp washcloth that he uses to help you clean up the makeup that's now running down your cheeks from when you eyes were watering while you worked him over.  He gently takes the rag and does it to help you, wanting to help take care of you like you did for him. 

Sometimes it amazes you when he does this, how he can go from being rather harsh with you to so gentle in just a few moments but that is a part of why you love him. That he can go back and forth with you and keep you on your toes, be harsh with you and then remind you that he loves you. 

When he’s done cleaning you up one of his hands settles on your thigh again, slowly tracing patterns on it as he trails it up, glancing at you.

“Your turn.”

[stellasfictionalworld]

part 4.

part 5

a/n: i'm gonna be honest, i've been thinking about this part for like a week. i kinda love hate this, i swear it'll get better now. reader has very strong feelings about relationships... also thinking about writing andre's perspective sometimes.

reader x andre anderson 

cw: (i mean you’ve watched the show so) fluff to angst, toxic ex's,

word count: 1,360

It was Friday afternoon, you kicked your feet under the picnic table. Andre’s jacket on your lap as you read a book for Hero Ethics. It was quiet, your earbuds providing serenity alongside the sunny weather. A shadow loomed over you and you smiled quickly. You took out your earbuds and looked up. Only for your smile to drop and you sighed.

“Oh c’mon, Cupid,” that nickname in his mouth made you want to throw up.

“Jackass,” you squinted up at him. 

Dylan, just Dylan. That’s all he was to you, the fucker who pushed you too far. Bile rose up to the back of your throat. He laughed, that fake dryyyy laugh. 

“C’mon,” he said, shutting your book without a single finger. 

“Stop,” you said, shrinking into yourself. It was a bad habit, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your fingers trembled in your lap, you felt so helpless. When he dipped his head closer to you, your knuckles went white. His eyes closed, and you stared up at him.

He snapped his eyes open, and tears fell down his face. His lower lip trembled, and he covered his mouth. He backed away from you, his voice shaky.

“You bitch,” he said, and took another step back. His fingers trembled, “f-fuck.” Then he ran off, and you grinned widely. It satisfied you to make such a fragile man cry, one that hated the tears. 

“Do I even know what that was about?” Andre asked from behind you. You looked over your shoulder, and your smile only became bigger. He was giving you a skeptical look. 

“Just a dick,” you shrugged, “I know a lot of them.” 

The corners of his lips turned up, you had no idea why he was smiling. He hummed. “Hope I’m not one of them,” he sat next to you. Yep, definitely his woody cologne mixed with weed. “No,” you said, “not yet.”

His eyes dropped to your hands, and the upper right corner of his lip curled upwards. He opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him. 

“I think you gave this to me on Saturday,” you showed him the (expensive) leather jacket. You still didn’t remember that night. He eyed it and looked back at you. 

“Try it on,” he said, leaning into his palm. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Try it on,” he said again, a playful look in his eyes. 

“Okay,” you said and did. It was big on you, his broad shoulders and muscles filled it out. You looked at him expectantly.

“Keep it,” he grinned, “looks good on you,” and grabbed the book you were reading. You blinked rapidly as he flipped through your annotations. He was right, you looked good in anything, but what? “Jesus fucking christ. You actually read all this shit?” he asked.

“Yeah, and that’s how you get a good GPA,” you said, “should I spell it out for you just in case? G-P–” you said the letters out loud again. He gave you a dumbfounded look and you stopped abruptly. You laughed behind the back of your hand and he shook his head.

“So, if you’re gonna expect me to read this,” he waved the book in his hand, “No offense. I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

“Oh god no,” you said. “I have something else for you, did you want something with pictures though?” you couldn’t help but grin. You looked through your tote bag. 

“Okay, now you’re being a dick,” he said. 

You passed him a pink folder, which read Andre in pink on the spine. His brows shot up as he took it from your hand. You watched him flip through pages, his tongue sticking out slightly as he read. You ran your fingers over the cuff of the sleeve, realizing the jacket was incredibly stylish and comfortable. A part of you didn’t want to clean it anymore, worried about losing his scent from it. You put a cool hand over your hot face. Why were you caring so much? It was just a jacket. Your heart slammed against your ribs, oh fuck me, you thought. 

You watched him, his eyebrows furrowed as he read your work. He let out a soft laugh between paragraphs where you had doodled or written a cheesy note. Your stomach made flips, you liked making him laugh. 

He looked back at you. “You wrote all of this? This is…” he flipped through the pages again, this time more delicate with each turn. 

“The whole semester's worth of notes, we’re not even halfway through. Thought I might as well just give it all to you. So you’re all caught up, whenever,” you said, looking at your chipped nails. You had to get them done again. 

“You’re crazy,” he said and you raised a brow. “I mean, how much time did you have?” 

“Too much, but in return, it kinda helps me. Now I know what to expect,” you shrugged.

He hummed, and he shook his head in disbelief. Then his shoulders dropped, and your heart sunk. 

“What? What is it?” you asked.

“Nothing uh,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I was gonna use the tutoring as an excuse to keep seeing you more,” he said. Your lips parted and you were ridden with guilt. 

“Oh fuck,” you scoffed, “fuck my bad. I…” you didn’t know what to say, not wanting to meet his eyes. Oh how fucking stupid you were, duh, Andre Anderson at this point could ask anyone to do his homework. He could probably pay a shapeshifter to go take a test for him. 

He did laugh though, your turmoil amusing to him. “It’s not funny,” you hit his shoulder lightly. His head dropped and he tried to hide his smile. “I feel so dumb,” you rubbed the bridge of your nose. 

“Don’t, I mean I’m kinda surprised I had to tell you,” Andre said.

The breeze filled you with an air of confidence all of a sudden. You looked at him, he seemed uneasy. That’s when you realized, he’d barely touched you this whole time. There was the hip thing, and then two days ago, he’d gently held your wounded hands. Even when you’ve hung out with him in public or private, he keeps a safe distance. He didn’t want to scare you off or overwhelm you. You thought at least. 

“So you want more than friendship,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. 

He was quiet for a minute. He dragged his hand over his face, looking at anything but you. Your heart was pounding against your chest. When he’d made up his mind he looked at you.

“I’m okay with friends, honestly. I mean I’m a friendly guy,” he said with a toothy smile, “but with you… I like you.” 

This was familiar territory, setting up a safe space just to trap you in it. 

“Okay,” you said.

His head tilted slightly as he pressed his lips together. He looked adorably confused.  

“Okay?” he questioned.

“Okay,” you said.

“Okay, as in… okay we can start seeing each other or?” he asked hopefully.

“Okay as in, I hear you, but no,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “I just want to be friends Andre,” you said.

He licked his teeth and dragged his hand over his face. A pit formed in your stomach while you ran circles over your hand. 

“Okay wow,” he said, “I did not see that coming honestly.”

“Andre I–” your phone buzzed, and you cursed under your breath. “I’m sorry it’s my mom. She’s gonna fucking lose it if I don’t answer,” you got up. He looked at you like you’d just kicked his puppy. “See you around?” you asked, unsure if you could even say that.

“Yeah,” he said, drumming his hands over your folder.

You walked off, letting the phone ring on silent. You found the nearest bathroom and rushed in. Tears welled up in your eyes, as you found an empty stall. Hot tears fell down your face as you covered your mouth. Muffling the ugly sobs. Your chest hurt so much, you wanted to curl up into a ball and die.