#its nice to be sober today

[coldcrypt]

started weighing at 69 kgs Monday and am now 66 (Friday), but I think its mostly water weight (following day was 67). Good to know tho, because I had a drinking binge on Wednesday. Luckily it was only 1500 cal

[batz]

-

[septemberpdf]

2 days to graduation. i can’t help but feel as though i’ve been pretty significantly missing out on something i didn’t know that i wanted until now

[emi1y]

another accomplishment for the day is i figured out how to maintain buzzed all afternoon without ever tipping into being too drunk the way i usually do

[d1sc0rd1a]

.

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 7A

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: I’ve pretty much wrapped up part 1. Which is why this is pretty long. I’ll be splitting it into its own 2 parts.

Part 2 comes out next week so I’ll be able to finish the series then! There will be much more Pogue story lines then! You’ll hear more about Maybank Readers involvement with the hunt! Hope you’re enjoying so far!

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: angst, smut (brief oral, p in v) Ruthie trigger warning.

You and Rafe are up early, getting ready to head out to the beach. You glance at your phone as you head into the closet to change, seeing a new message from JJ.

JJ - 9:04 AM: “Waves look good today. Grab your board and come join us! Unless you’re too prim and proper for us now.” 🌊

You - 9:06 AM: “Don’t worry, I���ll be there to watch you wipe out every time.” 😇

Meanwhile, Rafe is talking about the offer from Hollis, which has been on your mind too. “Y’know, I might be warming up to what Hollis suggested. It could be a good way for you to get established. Make people take you seriously. This is where you’ve always wanted to be, right?”

Surprised by your support, he glances over. “You think?”

You lean out of the closet, watching him pack your beach bag. “I mean, I’ve got my reservations. I don’t trust anyone who speaks so highly of your dad.” He gives you a look, but you ignore it. “And Sofia pushing you to take it? I mean, what does she know? But maybe it’s worth a shot. I just want you to feel good about whatever you decide.”

You step out, holding your bikini top in one hand, catching him looking at you. Smiling, you gently push his face toward the mirror. “A little help?” You pull your hair out of the way, and he ties the strings in a firm knot behind your neck.

“No matter what you choose, I’m here. But honestly, I’m starting to come around on the idea.”

He grins, his hands settling on your hips. “Feels like this is just landing right in my lap, huh?” He cups your face, his thumb brushing softly along your cheek.

“You could make so much money, Rafe.”

“Well, then I guess I’m about to make so much money.” He leans in, trailing kisses from your lips to your cheeks and down your neck as he pulls you closer, lifting you onto the sink. His fingers press into your hips, and you laugh.

“Making money turns you on this much?” you tease, tilting your head.

He smirks. “Guess it does. Though having you there with me doesn’t help.” He tugs at your bikini bottom, dropping to his knees. “Rafe, we need to leave soon…”

“Just a quick taste,” he murmurs, ignoring the clock.

He laps up the wetness that’s already coating you. Bringing his lips up to your clit and sucking on it. He moved his way back down to your hole and swirls the entrance with his tongue. You love how it feels but you want him inside of you.

You place your palm on his forehead and push his head back. He looks up at you with furrowed brows. “Inside, now… please.”

“Well since you asked so nicely.” You pull his shirt off of him and he drops his swim trunks to the floor, they pool around his ankles. He undoes the strings of your bottoms, releasing you to the cold air of the bathroom and he pushes up your bikini top.

He runs his hard length through your folds to get it nice and wet and ultimately thrusts into you. You move forward to place your forehead in on. You stare into each other’s eyes. It’s a bit of a strange feeling, you and Rafe completely sober. It’s complete intimacy, neither of you are drunk or high, just looking for a quick fuck with a comfort person. You’re deep in this, you’re both in so much love.

He moves his head down, breaking eye contact, to suck on one of your nipples. One hand traveling to your clit. Rubbing perfect circles on it. Your body arches into him. You moan into his ear and his sends him into overdrive. He’s pounding into you getting you both so close. You grip his shoulders and grind into him meeting his rhythm and clench around him. “That’s it, cum for me, I’m right there too baby.”

His words don’t help and you crash immediately from them. Your legs fall numb and drop from Rafe’s waist so he picks them up and thrusts a couple of more times before he releases into you. You two stay in the same position before Rafe pulls out. He pulls up his swim shorts and walks over to the tub to grab a wash cloth.

He comes back over to you reaching behind you to turn the water on. He smiles at you and you lean into kiss him. You kiss him everywhere, lips, cheeks, neck, chest you don’t want to miss a single spot. Then you just pull him in for a hug. “What are y-?”

“Just hold on a second. I just want to hold you.” He obliges and wraps his arms around your back. You rest your ear in his chest and listen to his heart beat. You’re like that for a few moments when you break. “Can I clean you up now?” You smile and nod and he does just that. Further taking care of you by pulling back down your bikini top and retying your bottoms.

You both stand there for a moment, catching your breath and enjoying the post-coital glow. The water still running, creating a soothing background noise. Rafe gently turns off the water and sets the washcloth aside, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I think I might like this sober sex thing, especially if it’s with you forever,” he says with a smirk. You giggle and roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.

“I think we might be onto something here,” you reply, leaning in to kiss him again. The water still flowing, the room still spinning, but this time it’s not from alcohol or drugs – it’s from the pure, unadulterated passion and love that you share with Rafe.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You hop off the sink, quickly smoothing out your hair. Rafe grabs the beach bag, and the two of you head down to the kitchen. V’s face lights up as soon as she sees you both, and she cheers. You scoop her up, and Rafe wraps you both in a hug.

Since hiring Elaina as V’s full-time nanny, things have been easier. She’s from the island, Topper’s cousin, though from a more middle class background, working hard at her studies in business while juggling this job. It’s ideal for her, and it’s a relief to have someone you trust with V.

You invited Elaina to come to the beach, but she declined. Just then, Rafe gets a text from Topper. “Alright, we have to head out. Your annoying cousin keeps blowing up my phone. Gotta get there before he does.” You both say goodbye, giving V a quick kiss before telling Elaina to text if she needs anything.

Once you’re in Rafe’s convertible, he passes you the beach bag and jogs over to grab your surfboard. Surfing has been part of your life for as long as you can remember, ever since you and JJ started daydreaming about riding waves far enough to leave everything behind. Most importantly leaving Luke behind.

The drive to the beach is calm and bright, Rafe’s hand resting on your thigh while yours settles on his hand. When you arrive, you spot Topper, Kelce, and Ruthie waiting. After the drama from the other night, you only greet Kelce, deciding Ruthie can deal with being ignored for now. Topper, caught in the middle, gets no special treatment either.

Ruthie’s the first to break the silence. “Hey, Rafe and Y/N. What’s up?”

Rafe breathes out a quick “nothing,” while you offer her a flat, uninterested smile, rounding Topper’s Jeep to get in.

As you head to the sand, you spot the Twinkie nearby and wave to JJ and the rest of the crew. The kooks have parked a bit close, not you or them are thrilled about it. You and Rafe settle down near the water, where he sips a beer, his hand moving gently along your leg as you both take in the scene.

JJ, Kie, and Sarah are already in the water, with JJ teaching Sarah how to surf. She catches on quickly, and you watch them, smiling. You steal a glance at Rafe, trying to read his expression, but he’s a mystery.

When Sarah steps out of the water, you turn to him. “Want to go talk to her?”

He shifts, but shrugs it off. “She can come to me.”

You roll your eyes. “You know that’s not how this is going to work, Rafe.”

He starts to argue, but JJ interrupts. “Yo, sis, you riding or what?”

“Yeah, I’m coming!” You hop up, handing your cover-up to Rafe, who gives you a lingering look. Licking his lips as he looks up and down your body.

“Can you be serious for a moment?” you say, exasperated. “I’ll be the first person to help you here Rafe. But you’re not gonna get anything from her. You have to give it your all, that’s the only way it’s gonna work. You caused the damage you have to fix it.”

Leaving him to think, you grab your board and jog over to JJ. He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “What’s up with baby daddy? Got another stick up his ass?”

“He’s actually been great, J. Leave it alone,” you snap, cutting off JJ before he can say more. With that, you both rush into the water, ready to surf. The waves carry you effortlessly, and for a while, it’s peaceful, even with Topper and Kelce joining in. But it doesn’t last—JJ blows a wave, causing Topper to wipe out.

“Well, so much for a peaceful day,” Kie mutters under her breath as Topper storms out of the water, Kelce right behind him. You spot Ruthie on the shore, her eyes glued to the scene, already gearing up for her next bout of drama.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

The rest of the afternoon is spent with your family of Pogues, their laughter and banter offering a break from the tension that always lingers when you’re around Rafe’s dry, humorless crowd. It’s freeing, and for a moment, you let yourself forget about the other world—the Kooks and their incessant games.

The day flies by, and soon enough, you’re sitting in a circle with everyone when Kie’s voice rings out. “Guys, there’s a turtle hatch!”

Your eyes widen with excitement. “Oh my god! I’ve lived here my whole life and never seen one!” You jump to your feet, helping Kie clear a path for the tiny hatchlings.

The group gathers around, marveling as the baby turtles make their way to the water. You reach for your phone, wanting to capture the moment to show Vivienne later, when the sound of an engine revving cuts through the peace. Your head snaps up just in time to see Topper’s Jeep hurtling toward you.

Heart pounding, you grab Sarah and John B, pulling them out of the way as Kie stands firm, waving her arms to try and stop them. But Ruthie, wild-eyed and relentless, aims straight for her. JJ dives in at the last second, yanking Kie out of the Jeep’s path as it roars by.

“What the fuck is wrong with her?!” you shout, the panic morphing into fury as Ruthie speeds through the turtle hatch, sending sand and broken shells flying. She throws a drink at Kie, drenching her in alcohol before heading back to the cluster of Kooks, who cheer her on.

Kie, now soaked and furious, picks up a lifeless hatchling and starts walking toward the group. Your eyes find Rafe’s, watching his expression as he stands surrounded by his friends, unmoving. Then you look at JJ, who gives you a nod, and together you follow behind Kie.

The anger you’d felt toward Topper and Ruthie since the last confrontation fuels your steps. The sting of betrayal simmers as you realize that Rafe, the man who claims to love you and your daughter, is once again silent when it matters most. He can do it in private but not when there’s too many Kooks around.

Kie’s voice cuts through your haze. “Look at what you did!” She screams at them, but you barely hear the exchange. Your vision tunnels, zeroing in on Ruthie’s smug face and Rafe’s indifferent stance.

Ruthie spits out a threat about being filmed, and without thinking, you snap. “Fuck you, Ruthie,” you hiss, stepping between her and Kie. Topper raises a hand to stop you, but you shove it off your shoulder.

“And fuck you too, you cowardly lap dog.” He blinks, momentarily stunned. “What?”

“You’re pussy, Top. Always hiding behind your girlfriend, letting her pull your strings. It’s embarrassing,” you seethe. He doesn’t say anything, not shocking.

Ruthie throws out another taunt you barely register. Your fists clench, itching to make her regret ever crossing you. But the thought of your daughter flashes in your mind—a reminder of why you can’t afford an assault charge.

You take a breath, forcing your hands down and stepping back. “There is seriously something wrong with you people,” Kie shouts, her voice trembling with rage. You exchange another look with Rafe, one filled with disappointment and disbelief. JJ issues a final warning, promising consequences if they ever come at the Pogues again.

“JJ, let’s go,” you command, your voice tight. You start to lead Kie away when Rafe’s voice, low and almost apologetic, cuts through the chaos. “Yeah, I saw that,” he mutters, siding with Ruthie.

Blood surges hot in your veins at his words as you push over the large speaker Kelce had set up earlier, the crash punctuating your fury. You flip Topper off as he shouts after you, but you’re already walking away, your pulse thrumming with betrayal and rage.

Walking back, you keep Kie close, rubbing her upper arm in an attempt to soothe her. “When you get home, you should hold a little funeral for him,” you suggest softly.

She wipes her eyes, a faint smile breaking through the tears. “That’s a good idea.”

At the Twinkie, you help Kie climb in and press a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I’m sorry, Kie.” She nods silently, eyes fixed on the lifeless turtle cradled in her hands.

With a heavy heart, you move to help pack up the rest of their things, casting a glance at Sarah. She meets your eyes, sympathy etched across her face. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “She’ll be alright.” You step forward, sharing a strong, silent hug, then turn away, bracing yourself for the walk back to the group that now feels so foreign.

As you pass through the cluster of Kooks, you ignore their smirks and jeers, stuffing your belongings into your bag. Rafe steps up, his expression unreadable. “Not cool, Rafe,” you say firmly.

“They deserved it,” he counters, eyes searching yours for understanding.

“I want to leave. Now.” You sling your surfboard under your arm and march off toward the car, determined not to get back in Topper’s Jeep, no matter how far Rafe’s is parked.

Rafe rushes after you, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins pushes you forward faster than you thought possible. You reach the car before he does, rattling the door handle impatiently. When he finally arrives, you snap, “Open it.” He unlocks the door, grabbing your board before you can stow it yourself.

“Maybank, stop it. You’re really going to give me shit over what Ruthie did?” he protests.

You shake your head, a bitter laugh slipping out. “No, I’m giving you shit about your ego. You care so much about what those people think that you can’t say a word, even when you know it was wrong. If the roles were reversed…” He turns away, heading to the driver’s side, but you reach out, grabbing his wrist to pull him back.

“I’m not done.” Your eyes lock with his, demanding his attention. “If that happened to you, do you think any of them would care? Do you think they’d protect you like JJ did Kie? They wouldn’t, Rafe, because you don’t actually care about each other. You only get mad when it makes the Kooks look bad. That’s not real loyalty.”

You take a breath before continuing, your voice steady and resolute. “We might be ‘scum from the Cut,’ but we’re a family. We stand up for each other, no matter what. Something your so-called friends could never understand. You want to be better for V, for me, even for Sarah? Then get the fuck over yourself.”

You roll your eyes and grab your bag, sliding into the car without another word. The drive home is silent, the tension palpable, a stark contrast to the calm of the morning.

When you arrive home, you grab your bag and rush inside. Elaina is feeding V her dinner, and the moment you see your daughter, warmth floods you. “Hi, baby!” you coo, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. V laughs, her giggle a balm to your frayed nerves.

“Hi, mama!” she chirps, eyes sparkling.

You turn to Elaina. “I’m going to take a quick shower. You can head out after that—I’m not going anywhere tonight.” Passing Rafe as he enters the kitchen, you don’t spare him a glance, making sure to lock the bedroom and bathroom doors behind you.

Under the hot stream of water, the tension in your body starts to dissolve. You stay there longer than intended, letting the day wash off you. A sharp knock on the bedroom door snaps you back. Rafe’s muffled voice follows. “Come on, Y/N, open up.”

You dry off at a leisurely pace, slipping into pajamas and combing through your damp hair. The knock grows more insistent, but you take your time applying moisturizer, savoring the rare moment of peace. Finally, you unlock the door.

“Finally,” Rafe mutters, frustration lacing his voice. “Dramatic much?” His tone grates on your nerves, but you stay silent, walking past him without a word. He calls out, “Really?” but you don’t turn back.

Sitting at the table with V, you pick at reheated leftovers as she babbles between bites. Another things Kooks don’t have a grasp on. Practically had to force Rafe to not to throw these leftovers out.

Rafe joins you, reaching out across the table. You glance at his hand but don’t take it. He sighs, retreating as you show V the videos of the baby turtles, willing away the memory of the broken shell in Kie’s hands.

“V, do you know how pretty you are? You get that from your mama,” Rafe says softly. The sweetness in his tone almost cracks your resolve, but you hold firm, in the back of your mind you like the effect you have on him. You get up clearing the dishes and pressing a kiss to V’s head she giggles at your touch.

You set a plate of food in front of Rafe, who looks up, surprised. “I ordered something to be delivered.” You clench down on your teeth and you go to pull the food away but he grabs your hands and stops you. “I’ll have this, I can save that food for tomorrow.”

He’s gonna save his food? It’s getting really hard to not be mad at him. He tries so hard with you. Why can’t he do it for others?

You set it back down again. Grabbing V to give her a bath. You rest your hand in his shoulder and you walk past him. The nighttime routine is mercifully smooth, and soon V is asleep. You’re curled up in bed with a book when Rafe enters, sitting at your feet.

Tbc in Part 7B

Taglist:

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @bigbonenative @writtenbyhollywood @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @leilanizcals

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part1. get me out of here

MINORS DNI!

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: your relationship with your partner ended badly, but support came from where you did not expect it. Vi. is this the start of a new friendship or something else?

・❥・ genre: smut + kinda friends to lovers

・❥・ word count: 2k

✎ warnings: 18+, mention of smut, cheating, smoking, alcohol, swearing

WHEN I NEEDED YOU masterlist

in a small town like this, everyone always knows each other, and yours was no exception. you were comfortable with everything in its place: your neighbors who hosted the best barbecue in town, your best friend who lived across the street, and your boyfriend, one of the most handsome guys on your college football team.

when you came of age, you had a choice to make: either move to the big city or stay in your hometown with friends. you chose the second one, and it was the best decision of your life. you even enjoyed living with your parents; you were lucky to have them, and the only rule in the house was never to lie. your parents never saw a reason to forbid you from going to parties and dates, as you weren’t a problematic kid. if there was a party, you just told them the address and when you’d be back.

tonight was one of those parties, hosted by your boyfriend Troy at his place. his team had won the game, and honestly, you didn’t understand much about the sport, but you had to support your partner. you even tried to join the cheerleading squad, but jumping around in a short skirt wasn’t your thing.

getting ready for the party, you looked at yourself in the mirror. for the night, you chose your blue jeans and a red top - comfortable and stylish.

“mom, I'm going to Troy's, I'll be back around midnight!” you called out, running downstairs from your room. your parents’ bedroom was downstairs, so your mom didn't hear you immediately.

“sweetie, did you call me?” your mom responded from the bedroom. when you entered, your dad was already asleep, and your mom was reading a book beside him.

“yeah, I said I’ll be late; there’s a party at Troy’s to celebrate the team’s win,” you said, approaching her and kissing her on the cheek.

“alright, be careful. school tomorrow, so don’t have too much fun,” your mom winked at you.

“okay, love you,” you said, closing the door behind you as you left.

Troy's house was already packed, and it wasn’t hard to spot the whole team in the center of the room, with everyone applauding while your boyfriend thanked the team for their hard work. you noticed all his friends were there.

“and here’s my good luck charm!” he pulled you by the hand and kissed you. “babe, congratulate the best players! Josh, Vi, and I totally crushed the other team!” he shouted, and everyone started cheering and clapping again.

you smiled and congratulated everyone; Josh hugged you, while Vi just nodded. you noticed that Josh already smelled heavily of alcohol; his green eyes were red and tired. he could never hold his liquor but could never turn Troy down. Vi, on the other hand, looked very sober with a glass in her hand.

half an hour later, you were sitting on the couch with Trish, your best friend, who was happily chatting and filling you in on the latest news. you laughed together, occasionally glancing at your boyfriend, who was, as always, the center of attention.

“I really want to make a move on Vi, she looks so attractive tonight. did you notice how her pink hair looks especially nice today?” Trish adjusted her dress to make her chest more noticeable.

“honestly, I hadn’t noticed,” you laughed.

“you have to ask her if she likes me, but don’t tell her I was asking,” your friend grabbed you by the shoulders.

“and how am I supposed to do that? we’re not that close; if it weren’t for Troy, I wouldn’t even be talking to her tonight,” you looked at your friend in surprise.

“I don’t know, think of something, please,” she looked at you with puppy eyes, and you nodded. “fine, I’ll think of something.”

“yay, you’re the best! now let’s go dance; I’m tired of sitting here!” Trish tried to pull you up.

“no, you go; I’ll join in a bit,” you said, and with that, your friend left you. you thought about how much you disliked being the center of attention. that was probably why you were friends. opposite personalities - she energized you, while you calmed her down. you had been friends since school; you loved her brightness and energy. you balanced each other out.

you drifted into thoughts and memories while sipping your beer when someone joined you. it was Josh; it seemed he hadn’t even noticed you as he collapsed onto the couch. just as you were about to ask if he needed help, he threw up right by his feet.

“ew, Josh,” you grimaced, jumping up from the couch. this party didn’t seem so fun anymore.

“I need to find Troy and say goodbye; it’s time to go home,” you said to yourself, setting your glass down in the kitchen before heading off to look for your boyfriend. Troy was nowhere to be found, so you decided to check the bedroom, half-expecting to find him passed out on the bed like Josh. climbing upstairs, you opened the door to his room, but what you saw shocked you. Troy was standing there, pants down, while some girl was giving him a blowjob. your breath stopped; you couldn’t process what was happening. a second later, you were running downstairs, and as you burst outside, you could hear Trish calling out to you, but there was a ringing in your ears.

“fuck, no,” tears streamed down your face, the feeling of betrayal cutting you from the inside out. you wanted to scream, but couldn’t make a sound. catching your breath, you looked up to see Troy's car in front of you. without thinking, you started kicking the tire, your eyes still wet, but your sadness slowly turning to anger.

“I’ve got a baseball bat in my car if you want,” you turned to see Vi standing by the neighboring car, smoking a cigarette and watching your emotional meltdown.

“what?” you asked, though you had heard her words clearly.

“if you keep going like this, you’ll hurt your leg,” she said, exhaling smoke slowly. in response, you only nodded, to which Vi smiled and pulled a bat from her trunk. when she handed it to you, you took it without hesitation, raised it, but something held you back.

sadness filled your body once again, and you simply lowered the bat, looking down at your feet. no matter how painful this betrayal was, you couldn’t bring yourself to damage someone else’s property; the consequences weren’t worth it. your head started spinning, and you felt yourself falling. a moment later, you felt strong arms catch you.

“careful, or you’ll end up breaking your head instead of the car,” Vi’s voice was soft as she leaned you against her car and handed you a glass.

“no, I don’t want any alcohol,” you said, wiping away tears and finally getting a clear look at her face. she looked at you a bit nervously.

“it’s water. I’m driving," she replied. you reached for the glass, and your hands touched. you felt the unexpected warmth of her hands against your cold ones; it was a pleasant sensation. after drinking some water, you composed yourself. Vi was watching your every move, making you feel shy, so you averted your eyes.

“thanks, and sorry about all this,” you mumbled under your breath. it seemed Vi wanted to say something, but Troy’s voice echoed from the doorway.

“hey babe, why are you out here? come to me!” the feeling of disgust rose in your throat, and you looked at Vi with frightened eyes.

“please, get me out of here,” you whispered, desperate to escape without breaking down again. she just nodded, and the two of you got into the car. it seemed like Troy was yelling something after you, but you didn’t care anymore.

the evening city lights flashed outside the window as you drove in silence, while someone sang an unfamiliar song on the radio. you glanced at Vi; she was focused on the road. her pink hair looked really beautiful, and she wore a white shirt that highlighted her toned arms. her fingers tapped along with the song. you noticed how relaxed her face looked; from the side, her thick brows and full lips were even more attractive. Trish had been right after all.

a few minutes later, the car stopped, and you looked around. lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t even asked where you were headed.

Vi stepped out of the car, and you did the same. when you saw the view, you were pleasantly surprised. you were on a hill overlooking the whole town; it lay below like it was right in your palm. Vi sat on a bench by the edge, and you followed. she was the first to break the silence.

“I don’t know what happened, but from your state, I figured you needed a quiet place,” she looked into your eyes, waiting for you to respond.

“you’re absolutely right,” you said, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Troy cheated on me. some girl was sucking his dick in his room while I was downstairs.” a tear rolled down your cheek again.

Vs just nodded and wiped away your tear with her thumb. you took her hand in yours and drew a deep breath again.

“you know, this is my secret spot. I’m not sure anyone else knows about it but me. sometimes I come here to take a break from people.”

“well, now I know about it too,” you smiled at her.

“you’re not the worst person to show it to,” Vi winked at you.

you laughed and squeezed her hand. “thanks for helping me.”

“I suggest we change the subject - you need a distraction,” she said, turning to face you.

“do you like anyone?” you asked unexpectedly.

“wow, where did that come from?” she raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“oh, don’t take it the wrong way! I’m just curious, asking for a friend,” you awkwardly released her hand and laughed. “it’s just… someone likes you, so I thought I’d ask… how about Trish, for example?”

“I don’t know; she’s nice, but not my type,” Vi still looked into your eyes.

“why? do you like someone else?” you felt a little disappointed, knowing Trish wouldn’t like that answer.

“yes, maybe,” she said, taking a cigarette from her pocket, lighting it, and shifting her gaze to the city and the starry sky.

“do I know this person?” you grew incredibly curious - you’d never seen Vi show interest in anyone, especially romantically.

“do you need to know everything?,” Vi said, laughing softly. “you should head home now; I’ll drive you,” she added, tossing her cigarette and walking to the car. just as you were about to sit in the passenger seat, Vi draped a red leather jacket over your shoulders.

“you’re freezing - put this on to stay warm.” you liked the feeling of her hands on your shoulders. you felt safe.

the drive home was quiet again, but it was comfortable. growing up in the same town, you sometimes talked, but after you started dating Troy, Vi began showing up in your life more often. you didn’t talk much; sometimes you thought you annoyed her, though maybe that was just her way. Vi wasn’t talkative or the life of the party, but tonight’s gesture had genuinely surprised you. you’d never imagined you’d find help and support from her of all people.

when you arrived at your house, you thanked Vi again and hugged her. her warm body pressed against yours, and you didn’t want to break the embrace. her hands rested on your waist, and it felt right. when you pulled back, you realized your faces were very close. your breath grew heavy as your eyes flickered between her lips and eyes. you mumbled something resembling a goodbye and rushed inside.

as you climbed up to your room, you realized you’d forgotten to return her jacket.

“what a strange day,” you murmured, falling onto your bed and quickly drifting off to sleep, thinking about Vi, still wrapped in her jacket.

[tonyspank]

I WANNA BE YOURS

Summary: Months after admiring the girl from afar, you finally begin your relationship together.

Warnings: smut and idk…

Words: 9.3k

A/N: Longest imagine ive ever wrote. So please bare with me i did not edit or revise this

Vada Cavell x Footballer!GP! Reader

You walk through the crowded hallways, a black bookbag hanging off your shoulder. You look around and see the people you know, and those you don't. You make your way to your classroom, immediately recognized by your best friend. "There she is!" He shouts from his seat, raising his hands in the air.

"Ethan... it's like eight in the morning. Why are you shouting?" He laughs and pats the seat next to him. You take your seat and start to unpack your bag. "Coach cancelled practice for today. Something about giving us time to mentally prepare for the game."

You raise an eyebrow in surprise. "That's so unlike him." Ethan nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but I'm not complaining. It's nice to have a day off."

"Wanna hang out after school?" You ask, placing your notebook on your desk. The brown-haired boy leans into his chair, a smug smile on his face. "No, can do."

A smile makes its way on your face. "What's that look for?"

He shrugs, "Oh, nothing. It's just that Mia Reed and I are going to this Taylor Lift concert together."

You snort at the mess up of the Singer's name. "You mean Swift?" He rolls his eyes. "Yes, that's what I said, Taylor Swift." You shake your head, amused. "Just don't make that mistake in front of Mia."

Ethan has had a crush on Mia since middle school. But he's always been too scared to talk to her, so he'd always comment and support her dance videos on Instagram. He would often try to find ways to run into her, but he could never find the courage to talk to her.

"Wait," You furrow your eyebrows, turning to Ethan completely. "How did you even finesse a date with Mia Reed?" Ethan smiles and shrugs. "What do they say again? Drunk words are sober thoughts?"

You shake your head and laugh. "I was drunk out of my mind during Max's spring break party, and then I saw Mia... and I just went for it." You had seen Mia around school but had never actually talked to her.

You were surprised that she even agreed to go out with him. Ethan could be surprisingly daring when he wanted to be. "You're a brave guy," he holds up a finger. "A brave drunk guy!"

"Also you'd never believe who else I seen at Max's party." "Who?" you asked, curious. He grinned, "Fucking baby Adam Sandler, Vada!"

You stared in disbelief. "You're such a liar." He shakes his head, sitting up in his seat. "Bro! I swear to god! She was there! In her oversized clothes and everything."

You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical. He laughs at your facial expression, "Maybe if you had gone then you could've seen yourself." He says in a sing-song tone.

You shake your head and turn away, still unconvinced. He laughs again, "Well, believe me, or not, I'm telling the truth." He shrugs.

Your teacher then walks into the classroom. You glance back at him, trying to figure out if he's telling the truth. He winks at you and turns away, leaving you unsure. As your teacher brings the lesson your mind wanders off.

Vada Cavell, whose last name you only found out due to her Instagram page. Kind of like Ethan, you've been liking Vada for a while but never built up the courage to talk to her or ask her out.

It's been months of admiring her from afar. She was beautiful in person and you found yourself totally mesmerized by her. You liked the way she dressed, unbothered by how anyone else thought of it, you liked the way her smile lit up the room.

You just had to talk to her, but you hesitated. You felt like you could never measure up to her. You wondered if she could ever like you, too.

You only seen Vada talk to her friends from the beginning of the year. It was Nick, Mia, and Quinton. You felt like an outsider, not part of their group.

You were too shy to approach her, and you were afraid of getting rejected. You also felt like you were the total opposite of Vada's type, so you decided to stay on the sidelines and admire her from a distance. You wanted to get to know her but you weren't sure how to start a conversation.

The rest of the day went by fast. Before you knew it you were back home, greeted by your cat and your mom. "Hey, honey. You're home early."

Your mom speaks up from the kitchen, while your cat rubs itself against your leg. Taking off your jacket and bookbag, you smile and reply. "Yeah, coach cancelled practice." You give your cat a few scratches before heading off to the kitchen to join your mom.

"Really? That's surprising." You laugh, peeking into the pot your mom was stirring. "Yeah, that's what I said."

"What are you making?" you ask, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "Spaghetti." She smiles, adding stuff to the pot. You feel a wave of warmth wash over you as the familiar smell of your mom's cooking fills the kitchen.

You watch as she expertly moves around the kitchen, adding ingredients to the pot. "I have to work late tonight, so I figured I'll start dinner early." She stirs the contents and you can smell the delicious aromas wafting from the pot. She gives you a smile, and you are grateful that she is willing to take the time to make dinner for the both of you.

"Ma, you should be resting. I can cook dinner." She waves her hand at you dismissively. "I want to do this. After all, it's my job to take care of you."

She pours some more ingredients into the pot, and the smell of the food intensifies. "What if I got a job? So you don't have to work late shifts anymore?" You suggest, a frown on your face.

She pauses for a moment, before shaking her head. "No, you need to focus on your studies and football. You worked hard for your starting spot, honey." She smiles sadly at you, before stirring the pot and humming a song.

She stops, "Now, go take a shower. It's almost finished." You nod and walk away, feeling a bit defeated. You know she only wants the best for you, but it's still hard to hear. You take a deep breath and head for the bathroom.

You take a long shower, letting the hot water wash away the disappointment. You remind yourself that you are doing your best and that will have to be enough.

Taking a deep breath, you step out of the shower and head back into the kitchen. After eating dinner with your mom, you begin scrolling through Instagram and TikTok. You soon find yourself laughing at memes and videos, allowing yourself to forget the stresses of the day for a few moments.

Hours pass and you soon realize it's time for bed. You turn off your phone and crawl into bed, just as you're about to drift off to sleep, your phone dings. It was a message from Ethan.

ethan - best fucking concert ever

ethan - im officially a swiftie

ethan - taylor's songs are anthems for my life. everything she does is iconic. she's my queen.

you - i'm guessing it went well with mia?

ethan - well? it went amazing bro

ethan - she wanted to hang out tmr but she has plans w adam sandler

you - oh thats a shame

ethan - omg i jus got the best idea evr

you - which is

ethan - A DOUBLE DATE

you - ethan no.

You place down your phone, and it vibrates from the amount of messages you're receiving. You lay back down, but of course, your phone starts ringing. And it's Ethan, obviously.

You sigh, but you pick up the call anyway. "Listen to me! It's a great idea!" He shouts through the speakers of your phone, You groan and roll your eyes, but you can't help but be amused. You reply, "Okay, I'm listening."

Ethan begins to explain his idea in more detail, "Okay look! If I text Mia, right now saying what if me and you both go to the arcade with them, she'll be like sure! Then that means I get to hang out with Mia and you finally get to meet Vada."

Ethan smiled, knowing he had found the perfect plan. You chew the inside of your cheeks, debating if you should agree to Ethan's plan. You take a deep breath and finally give in, deciding that this could be the start of something good.

He quickly texts Mia, and after a few moments, she replies agreeing. "Looks like we got ourselves a double date." Ethan and Mia started to chat excitedly about the date, and you couldn't help but feel a bit of excitement as well. You hadn't been on a date in a while and it felt like a new adventure. But was this actually a date, or just a way to hang out with friends? You weren't sure.

You woke up to a shout of your name. You quickly scrambled out of bed and rushed to the living room. There was your mom standing in the doorway with a wide grin on her face and Ethan right beside her.

"Ethan's here." You send a tired smile to your mom, "How was work?" She shrugs, "It was alright. Come here and give Ethan a hug." You side-eye Ethan, who opens his arms wide, a goofy smile on his face.

"C'mon Y/N/N! Hug me!" You reluctantly walk over and give Ethan a hug. He squeezes you tightly and laughs. Your mom smiles, watching the two of you before turning to head upstairs. Ethan lets you go and gives you a pat on the back.

You take a few steps back and he grins at you. You smile back, "Why are you here so early?" Ethan shrugs, "Your mom said it was okay. Plus it's 3 o'clock in the afternoon." You nod, and Ethan takes a seat on the couch.

He looks around and then turns back to you, "So, what have you been up to today?" You shrug, "Not much. Sleeping."

"I can tell," he motions his hands above his head, basically telling you your hair was a mess. You laugh and run your hand through your hair, trying to tame it. You look back at Ethan and smile, "What about you? What have you been up to?" He grins, "Talking to Mia."

"Oh, really?" You raise your eyebrows. "And what did she have to say?" He shrugs. "She said that they'll be at the arcade at around six."

You nod, sitting down on the couch as well. "Wanna watch The Walking Dead?" He nods and smiles. "Sure, let's watch it!" You grab the remote and search for the show getting comfortable on the couch. The episode starts with a bang, and you both settle in to watch.

Two hours later, you two are still glued to the screen, eagerly awaiting the next plot twist. Once the episode ends, you turn to your friend and say, "Shit! What time is it?"

Ethan, eyes wide, checks his watch and gasps. "We have to go, now!" He exclaims. You both jump up but you pause, "Wait! I gotta shower, do my hair-"

"Less talking and more doing!" Ethan pushes you to the stairs, and you begin sprinting up them, almost running into your mom. She steps aside to let you pass, a mix of surprise and amusement on her face as she watches you go.

Quickly you take a shower and change into a clean set of clothes. Not before fixing your hair and spraying on cologne, you head downstairs, ready and excited. Ethan is waiting for you, a satisfied smirk on his face, and together you leave.

When you arrive at the arcade you see Mia and Vada. Mia's smiling and waving excitedly at you both while Vada kicks a nearby rock. You both walk over and Mia gives Ethan a big hug.

Vada stands off to the side, her arms crossed but a small smile on her face. You look around and see the arcade bustling with activity, and you know you're in for a night of fun. "Hey, guys!" Ethan says, smiling. You look at Vada, and your heart beats like crazy.

"Hey, Vada." She smiles. "Ready for a night of fun?" she asks, her eyes twinkling. You can only nod as you follow the couple into the arcade. Almost immediately, Ethan and Mia go off and do their own thing leaving you and Vada alone.

Vada points to a game ahead of you. "Let's see who can get the highest score," she says with a mischievous smile. You nod and the two of you start to play. After a few minutes of intense competition, Vada ends up with the highest score.

She laughs and celebrates her victory, and you can't help but smile widely. "If I knew you were such a sore winner I would've tried harder." Vada gives you a playful shove and giggles. "You'll have to try harder next time!" she says. The two of you soon move on to the next game.

In watching you press the start button, Vada admits, "I'm bad at basketball." You pick up a ball, looking at her smiling. "That's ok, I'm pretty bad at it too," you reply. She furrows her eyebrows, "I thought you played basketball?" You shoot the ball, and it doesn't even hit the rim.

"Actually-" She starts, and you let out a loud laugh. She joins in your laughter. "I play football," you say continuing the shoot the remaining balls in front of you.

"But like aren't you supposed to at least have good accuracy? A blind person could shoot better than you." You chuckle, "I'm more of a receiver, not a quarterback." You shoot the last ball which ends up bouncing out of the cage from hitting the rim.

You catch the ball easily, placing it down. She shakes her head and grins. "I stand by my statement. You're terrible." She presses the button, picking up the basketball in front of her. "Watch and learn."

The first one she shoots goes in, "Lucky shot." You mumble, and she smiles in response. The second one also goes in, and the third and fourth too. "You lied to me. You said you sucked." She laughs, and sets up the next shot. "I never said I was suck, I just said I was bad." She takes the shot and it swishes through the net. "What the fuck?"

She turns to you and grins. "You see? I told you I was bad, not suck." You can only stare in amazement as she lines up the next shot and scores again. She laughs and walks away, leaving you in awe. "You lied!" You yell out as you follow her. She laughs again. "I'll let you in on a secret."

She stops and turns around, her face serious. "In order to score all the shots, you have to aim for the back of the rim. And then once you do that, calculate how much power you're putting into your shot. That way you'll be able to get a better idea of the trajectory the ball will take. And you'll have a better chance of making the shot." You squint your eyes at the girl, tilting your head a bit.

She bites her lip in response. Adorable, she thinks. "How do you know all of that? Or like, how'd you even figure that out?" She shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. "I came here before with Quinton." Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really? You two are...close?"

"We're friends." Is all she says. She looks away and takes a deep breath. "But yeah, he's a good friend." She smiles and looks back up at you, her eyes twinkling. "Wanna get something to drink?"

You nod and smile, and the two of you head to grab a drink. "Look, I'm gonna show you how to make the best slushie you'll ever fucking taste in your life." You grab a cup, joining Vada in front of the slushie machine.

Vada begins to explain the steps, and you find yourself getting more and more invested in the process. You join in, and together you prepare the perfect slushie. You take a sip and it's everything Vada promised. "Wow."

"Right!" Vada grins with satisfaction. Your eyes look around the arcade and you notice Ethan and Mia shooting water blasters at the target together. "You know, they're kind of cute together." Vada looks at the two, nodding in agreement. "It was bound to happen eventually. She's been crushing on the guy since sixth grade."

You furrow your eyebrows, your head snapping at the shorter girl next to you. "Really? Ethan too!" Vada laughs, a smile on her face. "That's crazy. It's been obvious to everyone but them." She turns back to the two, watching them laugh and shoot water blasters in sync. "They just need to tell each other how they feel."

"I mean...It's not that simple." You say, taking another sip of your slushie. Vada shrugs. "It's worth a try. I mean, what have they got to lose?" You shake your head. "I don't know. It's a risk they might not want to take."

You're beginning to wonder if you're talking about Ethan or yourself. Vada looks at you with a knowing look. "You never know. Sometimes taking a risk can be the best thing to do." You take a deep breath, considering her words. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I'm glad you agreed to come, I would've been third-wheeling the entire night." You laugh, "I'm glad I came too." You never know. Sometimes taking a risk can be the best thing to do. Vada's words basically repeat in your head, "I uh, I've actually been wanting to talk to you for a while." You admit.

She looks surprised but pleased. "Really? I had no idea!" You nod and smile, feeling relieved that you finally said it. "Yeah! I just didn't know how to approach you." She smiles, her dimples appearing on her cheeks. "Dude, it's not like I would've bit you if you tried to make a conversation with me."

You both laugh and the tension between you dissipates. She looks at you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "So, what do you want to talk about?" You shrug, using your straw to stir around your drink. "Favorite color?"

"Easy. All of them." She smiles and takes a sip of her drink. "I guess I can't argue with that. Favourite movie?" She pauses for a moment, thinking. "It's hard to pick just one, but I think it's The Staircase. I watched it a thousand times." You hum, "I've never watched it before."

"Wait, what?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "You have to watch it. It's a classic!" You shrug. "I'll watch it. What's it about?" She grins. "It's about this white guy who murders his second wife, and probably his first wife, and gets away with both."

You look at her, surprised. "That sounds intense. Is it a true story?" She laughs. "No, it's a movie. You'll love it. What's yours?"

You open your mouth to speak but she cuts you off. "Lemme guess. Tom Brady Documentary: True Stories." You start to laugh. "Yeah, that's it. It's a classic." She laughs. "See, I knew it!"

"But actually, it has to be How To Build a Better Boy." You say, watching her face to see her reaction. She looks shocked, "Wait that one sappy Disney movie?"

"It's not sappy." She laughs, "Yeah, right. I'm sure it's full of life lessons and cheesy dialogues." You smirk, "Maybe, but it's still worth watching."

She shakes her head, "I don't believe you. There's no way it can be that good." You shrug, "Trust me. I promise you won't regret it." Vada takes another sip of her drink, only to realize she's finished it. She looks up at you with a questioning gaze.

You smile and offer her some of your drink. "Trust me how I trusted you to make this drink." Vada hesitates, then takes the drink from you. "Okay. I'll watch it tonight, and then first thing in the morning I'll tell you if it was good or bad."

You nod and watch her take a sip. "You'd need my number for that." She smiles, takes out her phone and hands it to you. You add your number, then hand it back. "I'll be waiting for your call then." You wink and she laughs, taking another sip of the drink.

Ethan and Mia make their way toward you two, smiles on their faces. "You guys ready to go?" You both nod, and you all make your way out of the arcade. You all walk out, the cool night air bringing a sense of peace. You and the girl share a glance, and she smiles. You both head to your respective cars and drive off in different directions.

"How was it with Vada?" You reply, "It was great. She's a really cool girl." Ethan smiles and you ask him how it went with Mia. "We had our first kiss." Ethan's face lit up with excitement. "WHEN?"

He shyly looks away and replies, "Just a few minutes ago. You missed it being too oo la la with Vada." You roll your eyes smiling and give him a high five. Ethan grins and says, "It was amazing." He then pulls out of the parking lot, turning on his blinker and making a left towards your place.

Meanwhile, in Mia's car, she and Vada are talking about you. Mia teases Vada about her crush on you. Vada blushes and laughs, still a little embarrassed. "I mean she's cute and I can tell she really likes you."

Vada looked away, still blushing. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, laughing. Mia just smiled and shook her head. As soon as Vada got home she was questioned by her mom.

Vada quickly changed the subject, not wanting her mom to know what had happened. Vada's mother gave her a knowing look but didn't press the issue. Instead, she just said, "Well, I'm glad you had a good time." Vada smiled and nodded, grateful that her mom hadn't pushed the matter any further.

She fell against the couch, hesitating before turning on How To Build a Better Boy, your favourite movie. The movie started and Vada felt a sense of relief as her mom left the room. She curled up in her blanket and let herself get lost in the movie.

"Perfect boy but his name is Albert! And how'd he get a car...plus why'd he just throw his keys to a random guy?" Vada mumbles to herself, confused at the logic of the movie.

She giggled at the absurdity of it all, hoping the movie would eventually make sense. Despite the silliness, she couldn't help but be drawn in by the characters and their stories. Vada watched with anticipation as the movie unfolded, eager to find out what would happen next.

Until Amelia comes down, standing in front of the TV. Vada groans at her little sister, "Dude. I'm trying to watch something." Amelia turns to her with a small frown, "I wanna watch too." Vada reluctantly scoots over to make room for her, rolling her eyes in an attempt to hide her growing smile. They cuddle up on the couch, ready for whatever the movie had in store.

The sisters watched the movie, laughing and pointing out silly things until it was time for bed. Vada tucked Amelia in, giving her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, before heading off to dreamland herself.

When you woke up in the morning the first thing you did was grab your phone, checking for any recent messages. You felt a wave of disappointment as you saw that no one had messaged you. You decided to go downstairs to make breakfast.

Your mom had already left for work, so it was just you and your cat, Goose. You started making a simple omelet. It was one of your go-to recipes. But gosh, was it delicious.

As you ate the omelet, you had a moment of peace, just you and your cat, and the warm and comforting taste of the omelet. Goose jumps onto the table, meowing in your face. "Goose down."

Goose meows in protest, but eventually jumps off the table. You take a deep breath, savouring the last bite of the omelet. You look down at Goose and smile, "I'll make sure to give you a treat later." Goose purrs in response, contentedly rubbing against your leg. You get up to clean the kitchen, and your phone goes off in the middle of the dishes.

xxx-xxx-xxxx - ok. i'd admit it's a very good movie

You smile, she had finally texted you.

you - see it's not sappy, but a work of art

vada - i wouldnt take it that far

you - lol, i still have to watch the stairless

Three dots appear on the screen, then disappear. You frown, continuing to wash the dishes. You pause and turn off the water, drying your hands. You pick up your phone again, Vada had texted back.

vada - we could watch it at my place

you - when?

vada - today if u want

you - ok sure

you - send me ur address

You ring the doorbell, shifting your weight from one leg to the other anxiously. "Mom! Do not open the-" The muffled voice stops once the door is swung open. You stand there, frozen, unable to move. The blonde woman smiles at you, "Hi! You must be Vada's friend. Mia is it?" You shake your head, hearing a groan come from inside the house. "Mom, this is Y/N."

You smile awkwardly, feeling embarrassed. Mom chuckled and stepped aside, motioning for you to come in. You nervously step inside, smiling at the woman who let you in.

Vada sends you a wave which you return, placing your hands in your pocket. You take a deep breath as you take in your surroundings. The home was warm and inviting, with decorations all around the place.

You follow Vada, who leads you to the living room. She offers you a seat and you sit down, feeling somewhat more at ease. "Sorry about that." You wave it off, "It's fine. She seems sweet."

"If sweet means extremely noisy and out of touch with this generation, then yes. She's very sweet." Vada sighs and sits down on the couch next to you. You can't help but laugh at her comment. She shakes her head and smiles. "She means well, I suppose." She says with a shrug.

You lean further back into the red couch, as Vada picks up the remote turning on The Stairless. Vada and you sit back and watch the movie, exchanging comments and laughs. Time passes quickly, and soon enough you both find yourselves lost in the story. "Off the bat, I knew he killed his first wife." You laugh, slightly turning your head to Vada. "I'm telling you, he did it!" Vada exclaimed.

You both chuckle and then continued watching the movie. As the movie plays, the closer you two get. Now leaning into each other, you can feel the warmth of Vada's body as your hands occasionally brush against each other.

Your conversations become more meaningful, and the laughs become genuine. The movie fades away, and all that's left is the two of you, living in the moment.

As the credits rolled, you both looked at each other in amazement. "That was one hell of a movie," you say. "I told you. That movie is the shit." You sit up a bit, your shoulder brushing against Vadas. "Okay, rate How to Build a Better Boy and then I'll rate this."

Vada takes a moment to think, then finally responds. "It was an 8/10 for me," she says. "I really enjoyed it. How about mine?" You pause to consider the movie before finally saying, "Hmm, I'd give it a 9/10. Definitely worth watching again."

Vada grins. "I knew you'd like it." She leans back against the couch and stretches her arms out. "I'm glad we got to watch it together." You give her a smile and nod in agreement.

You give her a smile and nod in agreement. You both take a few minutes to relax in the comfortable silence. Then, you break it.

"I'm really craving one of your slushies." Vada laughs. "Wanna get one?" You nod and she jumps up, pulling you up from the couch. "Let's get Albert!" Furrowing your eyebrows, you both head out the door. "Albert?"

Vada laughs again. "I was thinking about it and you literally are the fully human version of him, except you don't really look alike." You roll your eyes, but you can't help but laugh. "Albert's a douche, I'm not a douche."

Vada snorts as you unlock your chair door, getting inside together. "Albert is not a douche. He's a sweet young boy who cares about his girlfriend, and he's really good at football."

You can't help but smile, shaking your head. "Yeah, okay, maybe he's not a douche." Vada grins as you start the engine. "Exactly. So therefore you're Albert." You chuckle and put the car in gear. "Are you trying to say that I'm perfect and really good at football?"

She laughs."No, I'm saying you're not a douche. Now let's go! The slurpies are calling my name." You roll your eyes and drive away, the two of you laughing as you go.

Since that day you've been texting Vada non-stop. She doesn't seem to mind it either. You feel like you can talk to her about anything. And to add to that, you've also been talking during school. Vada had even come over to meet your cat, when your mom was at work. You two have become really close over the past few weeks. Every day you look forward to talking to her and spending time with her. You can't help but feel like you are falling for her.

"Are you coming to my game tonight?" Vada smiled at you and nodded. You felt your heart flutter. You knew for sure, you were starting to fall in love. "Yeah, of course. Even though I barely understand football." You laugh at her response, leaning into the lockers. She smiles back, her eyes twinkling. "I'll explain the rules to you," you say, your voice soft as it can be. Vada can feel her heart skip a beat, and you smile at her.

She looked away for a moment, then back into your eyes. "But if you don't carry four people on your shoulders and score like Albert, then I'm leaving mid-game." She jokes causing you to smile. You tried to think of a witty reply, but all you could do was laugh. "I'll try my best."

She smiled and put her hand on your shoulder. "That's all I ask." She patted your shoulder and walked away. You watched her leave, feeling content with your exchange. Ethan, who you didn't notice was behind you places a hand on your shoulder.

You jump in surprise. "Jesus!" He laughs. "You should relax, man. I didn't mean to scare you." He removed his hand and stepped back. You take a deep breath and let it out, relieved.

"What were you guys talking about?" You shrug, "Nothing important. She's coming to our game tonight." Ethan's eyes widen in shock, "Are you serious?" "Yeah, why?" You reply, slightly confused. He shakes his head, "Nothing, just... Mia asked herself and Vada said no."

"Hm..." You hum, unsure of what to take from the situation. "I don't know maybe she changed her mind last second." A goofy smile makes its way onto Ethan's face, "Or maybeeeeee... she likes you."

You look away, blushing. "No way," you say, shaking your head. "She's definitely not interested in me that way." Ethan gives you a knowing look. "You've been talking for weeks. I've seen the way she looks at you," he says. "You should ask her out dude." You hesitate, not sure if you should take his advice.

The bell rings, and you look at Ethan with a smirk. "Saved by the bell." Ethan rolls his eyes and laughs. "Just ask her," he says, and you cover your ears humming as you walk through the hallway.

"Check, check! Elvis, Elvis!" Ethan yells. You look at the cornerback in front of you, and give Ethan a thumbs up. You take a deep breath and get into your stance. You know that if you can get past the cornerback, and potentially win your team some yards. You focus on the cornerback and wait for the snap.

The snap comes and you explode off the line. You easily beat the cornerback and break into the open field. You know you have a chance to make a big play and you sprint as fast as you can. Ethan throws the ball to you, and you catch it successfully.

Only making it to the 45-yard line before you're tackled. The crowd erupts in cheers as you get up from the tackle, smiling. You know you've made a huge play and energized your team. As you jog back to the huddle, you can feel the momentum shifting in your favour.

The team regroups and prepares for the next play. Everyone is pumped up and ready to take it to the end zone. Ethan calls the next play and the team breaks the huddle, ready for action. Ethan snaps the ball, handing it off to the running back who earns just about 8 yards from the play. It's third down, and you need 10 more yards to get to first.

Ethan calls out the next play and the team runs it perfectly. The running back manages to break free and run for 20 yards, giving the team a first down. The team cheers in excitement as they get a fresh set of downs and move closer to the end zone. "Y/N," you perk up at the sound of your name, "Be ready." You nod as Ethan pats your helmet.

You take a deep breath as you prepare yourself for the next play. You watch as Ethan signals the play and the team begins running it. You run up to the line of scrimmage, ready to make your move.

You see a gap in the defence and make your move, sprinting forward. You catch the football with both hands and take off, running for the endzone. You feel the wind in your face as you cross the goal line and score the touchdown.

The crowd erupts in cheers as you spike the ball in celebration. You jog back to the sidelines, feeling a sense of accomplishment and pride. You know you just made a game-winning play.

Meanwhile, Vada is in the stands beside Mia yelling, "GOAALLLLLLLLL!" Mia and Vada jump up and down excitedly, hugging each other in joy. The crowd continues to cheer as you take off your helmet and raise your arm in triumph. You feel a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that your hard work has paid off.

You wave to your mom who waves back, a huge smile on her face. "That's what I'm talking about!" Your coach saying patting your back. You take off your helmet, rubbing the sweat off your forehead with your towel. "Just one more touchdown and we've made it to the playoffs, baby."

You take a moment to take in the sound of the cheering crowd and the feel of the cool night air. The team gathers together in a huddle, the defensive team heading onto the field.

As the players take their positions on the field, the energy in the stadium is palpable. The coaches call out the plays and the team readies for the snap. The opposite team's quarterback takes the ball and the game resumes.

Thankfully your defensive side was able to stop the other team, and you're back on the field. Your team huddles up and the coach gives the next play. You take your position and get ready for the snap. As the ball is snapped, you make your move and the play is underway.

You make a break for the end zone, dodging and weaving past the other team's defence. Catching the ball with ease, you can feel the cheers of the crowd getting louder as you get closer. You feel someone hop on your back, but you continue running.

You keep going until you cross the goal line and score the winning touchdown. The crowd erupts as you raise your arms in victory. You look back to see your opponent still on your back, frustrated and disappointed.

The referee quickly signals for a touchdown and you can see the joy on your teammates' faces. You look back at your opponent and offer a friendly handshake to congratulate them on a good game. The team celebrates your victory as the crowd continues to roar.

You run to the sidelines, ecstatic about the win. The coaches congratulate you on your performance and the team gathers for a group hug. You look into the stands and see Vada staring back at you, her mouth open in shock. You take off your helmet, dropping it on the ground before holding up a heart.

Vada smiles and laughs, she mimes a heart back to you, and you smile widely. Ethan brings you into a tight hug, patting your back, "HELL YEAH!" You finally feel the euphoria of a victory. You had worked so hard and it had all paid off.

You look back at the field one last time, taking in the feeling of success before you turn to join your team in their celebration. You have made it, and nothing can take this moment away from you.

Moments pass and the entire team makes its way into the locker room. Everyone is in high spirits, laughing, hugging and even dancing to the sound of the music playing in the background. You can't help but smile, happy about the win.

As the team disperses, the coach takes you aside. He looks you in the eye and says "I'm proud of you. Great job today." You feel a thank him before leaving the locker room, walking outside to the front of the school building.

Ethan, Mia, and Vada are already there waiting. Once Vada sees you she runs to you, basically jumping into your arms. You hug her tightly, feeling a warmth inside. "You did it!" She shouts, her eyes bright with excitement.

"You like actually carried that guy onto your back? I told you you're Albert!" You laugh and hug her again. "Thanks, Vada." You are interrupted by a throat being cleared, and it's your mom.

"Hey, Ma." Your mom smiles at you, holding out her arms and you step into them, contentment washing over you. She pulls away slightly, with a proud smile and says, "You should be proud of yourself, Y/N. You did something remarkable today."

You smile, feeling a warmth in my chest. "I'm glad you think so," She hugs you again and says, "I always have, sweetheart. Now go hang out with your friends." You smile wider, feeling a warmth in your chest and your eyes start to mist.

You hug her tightly and thank her, before turning to go. You pause for a moment and look back, feeling so thankful for the unconditional love you have been given.

"TIME TO PARTYYYYY!" Ethan shouts from beside Mia, who joins him. You shake your head at the two, turning to Vada who raises her head, joining in as well. You can't help but laugh at their enthusiasm and join in, feeling the energy of the night.

The four of you make your way towards Max's house. He's known for throwing the best parties at your school, but you've never gone to any of them. You've never really had a reason to, but now you kind of do.

You knock on the door and Max welcomes you all in. The house is filled with people, and loud music and the air is thick with laughter and energy. You can feel a sense of anticipation and excitement as you all take in the scene.

You look around and take it all in, feeling a bit overwhelmed but excited. You make your way through the crowd, looking for a place to sit down and relax. You finally find a spot and settle in, ready to enjoy the party. "No way you're sitting down at a party," Vada says from beside you. You swallow your drink before sending a small smile at her.

She grins and grabs your hand, leading you to the dining room. "We're gonna play beer pong. I hope you have better accuracy."

"Any challengers?" A dark-haired boy says from the other side of the table, his friend close by. "Yeah." You speak up, wrapping an arm around Vada's shoulders. "Me and her," Vada smiles, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ready to go?" you ask, and she nods.

The boy nods, "Okay. But just know beer pong is my calling." You and Vada exchange a knowing look, and you set up the table. The game begins and you soon find yourself in a heated battle with the dark-haired boy.

It's drink after drink, throw after throw, and soon the game is over. The boy is declared the winner with a triumphant grin on his face. Vada and you exchange an impressed look and congratulate him on his victory.

"I can't believe he won that." You mutter, a bit tipsy. Vada shakes her head, "I can. You still suck at aiming balls into stuff." You laugh and throw your hands up in defeat. "You're right, I do. But maybe I'll get better one day." You continue following Vada around the party until she suggests something.

"Wanna get high?" You look around the party and then back at Vada, "Let's do it." She smiles and grabs your hand, leading you away from the party. You quickly found a secluded corner outside, and she produced a joint from her pocket. Taking a lighter from her other pocket, "You always have a lighter and a joint in your pocket?"

She laughed, "No but... I knew I'd be going to this party. I wanted to prepare myself." You hum with a nod, Vada's eyes leave the joint before meeting yours. "Have you done this before?" You shake your head, "No. I haven't.."

She smiles, takes the joint and takes a deep breath. "It's ok, I'll show you how."Vada inhaled, and slowly exhaled. She passed the joint back to you and said, "Just take a tiny puff. Don't hold it in, just let it out." You took the joint and followed her advice. You felt a tingle in your chest as the smoke lingered in the air. You coughed a bit, but it was a good feeling. You exhaled and smiled. "See? Not so bad."

You handed the joint back to Vada, feeling a bit more at ease. You sit down on the grass, and Vada joins you laughing. "Just wait till it hits."  You close your eyes and lean your head back, savouring the moment.

You feel the warm sun on your skin and the cool grass beneath you. You can feel the effects of the marijuana start to take hold, and a peaceful calm overtakes you. "I wonder what kind of high you'll be."

"There kinds?" You smile and nod, feeling content. "There's the body high, the mental high, and the spiritual high. Each one has its own unique experience." You take a deep breath and sigh, feeling the effects of the marijuana wash over you.

You close your eyes and relax, feeling the tension in your body slowly dissipate. You smile, feeling a sense of peace and clarity that you hadn't felt in a long time. You open your eyes and take another deep breath, feeling a deep sense of connection to the world around you.

"I wonder who wrote the script for How to Build a Better Boy," Vada's eyes widen. She can't believe that's what you're talking about mid-smoke. You laugh and shrug. "It's just something I thought of. I was just trying to relax." She smiles, understanding. "Well, it seems like it worked. You look much calmer now."

You take a deep breath and smile. "Yeah, I guess it did. I'm glad I was able to take my mind off things for a bit." Vada nods in agreement, then takes a deep drag from the joint. You both take a moment to enjoy the silence and the feeling of companionship.

You turn to the shorter girl, smiling. "I wanna kiss you. Badly, I've been wanting to kiss you, but now I just really really really-" You're cut off by a pair of lips onto yours. You close your eyes and kiss her back, savouring the moment. When you pull away, you can't help but smile.

You look into her eyes and feel a warmth inside you that you never thought was possible. "I've been wanting to kiss you too." You smile wider, bringing her back into an intense kiss.

Bringing the girl into your lap, gripping her waist tightly. You can feel her heart pounding against your own. You can feel her body relax into your embrace as you kiss her more passionately. You don't know if this is just Vada or the cannabis you've inhaled, but this is definitely one of the best kisses you've had.

She pulls away and smiles at you, her eyes twinkling. You can feel the electricity between you, like something that will never be broken. You know this moment will stay with you forever.

She leans in and whispers in your ear, "I love you." You can feel your heart swell at the words. You hold her close and whisper back, "I love you too." Everything around you fades away and all that is left is the two of you in this moment. You kiss her tenderly as your hearts beat in unison.

"You've gotta be quiet!" Vada whisper yells at you, trying her best to support your weight. You nod and press your lips together, trying your best to muffle the sound of your breathing.

You feel Vada's arms tremble as she carries you through the darkness. You can sense her fear. "Ma is probably..." You start snoring and begin laughing at your own joke.

Hopefully, your mother is sleeping because of the way you're acting right now, she'd definitely tell if you're not sober. Vada stops walking and scolds you.

She tells you to keep quiet and you quickly apologize. You try to remain quiet for the remainder of the journey, but you can't help but feel a bit of excitement as you approach your bedroom.

On the second to last step, there's a creaking noise. You both tense up at the sound, waiting there a few moments before resuming your movements.

"Are we gonna make out, V?" Vada blushes, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Shh, we're almost to your room." You make it to the room, closing the door behind you. Vada then pushes you onto the bed, plopping down beside you with a heavy sigh.

You begin giggling, turning to the girl beside you. She smiles, leaning in closer. You close your eyes, feeling her warm breath on your face. You both press your lips together, eagerly exploring each other.

Your heart races as you feel her hands on your back. You break away, looking into her eyes. You both share a knowing smile, "Are you sober enough to consent?" You nod, "Yes. Now hurry... sober thoughts and drunk thoughts."

Vada laughs at your mess-up, fuck it. She was high as hell as well. She was just handling it way better than you.

You both kissed again, feeling the warmth as your bodies pressed against each other. You felt the alcohol between you, but you both knew that you were sober enough to make a conscious decision. Your hearts were pounding as you embraced each other, both of you eager for more.

You pull away, climbing onto of Vada. Vada smiles up at you as you look deep into her eyes. You lean in and kiss them passionately, your hands exploring her body. You two stay like this for what feels like an eternity, until finally you pull away, and you begin undressing.

You throw your hoodie away, and try to rip apart your white tank top but fail. Vada notices your frustration and giggles, then helps you take off your tank top, revealing your toned abs. She smiles, before reaching up and kissing you again.

She then fumbles with the buttons of your pants, and pulls them down, before pushing you onto the bed. She climbs on top of you, and begins to passionately kiss your neck and chest. You can feel her hands trailing up and down your body as she continues to kiss you.

She moves her hands to your back and pulls you closer. You can feel her breath on your skin as she whispers into your ear. She then moves her lips to yours and you become lost in the moment.

You pull away slightly, "Vada take off your damn clothes." You say fiddling with her shirt. She complies taking off her bra as well. Your mouth moves to her chest, kissing, licking and suckling as your hands wander to her shorts. You slip them off her hips, leaving her in just her panties.

She moans in pleasure as you continue your ministrations.

You move your hands further down, gently stroking her inner thighs. You pause, taking in her beauty before slowly slipping off her panties.

She smiles at you, her desire and anticipation palpable in the air. "My heart is racing so much," she admits, smiling. "Mine too," you reply, leaning in to kiss her.

Her lips are soft and inviting, and you can feel the heat of her body radiating around you. You both lose yourself in the moment, the anticipation of what's to come envelops you both.

You flip her over, laying her on her back. You begin to explore her body with your hands. Her skin is soft and smooth beneath your fingertips. She moans softly, her eyes closed in pleasure. "Y/N..."

You move your hands up and down her body, exploring every inch of her. She gasps softly as you reach her most sensitive areas. You press your lips against her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

She grabs hold of your hair, her moans getting louder as you keep going. You feel her body quiver beneath you as you continue to pleasure her, her breathing becoming rapid and her body shaking with pleasure.

You can feel her nearing her climax and you increase the intensity of your motions, pushing her over the edge. Her body convulses with pleasure as she reaches her orgasm. "Ohmygod."

You kiss her body as she recovers from her orgasm, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She looks up at you with a satisfied smile, her eyes still filled with pleasure. You return her smile, happy to have been able to bring her pleasure.

You feel yourself hard against your underwear, and you know that you're ready for your own pleasure. You pull her closer to you and whisper in her ear, letting her know that you're ready. She responds with a mischievous grin, her hand moving to pleasure you.

You moan as her hand slides up and down, the pleasure building inside you. She moves her lips to yours, her tongue exploring your mouth as her hand continues to work its magic.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and you grab her hand to slow her down. She smiles in understanding and pulls away, the pleasure ebbing away. You look into each other's eyes, and you both know that this is only the beginning. "I'm gonna grab a condom." You mumble, rushing off the bed and into your drawer.

She nods in agreement, and you can sense the anticipation in the air. You come back to the bed, and she eagerly takes the condom from you. Opening the gold wrapper, you take out the condom and unroll it onto yourself, before moving to lie on top of her.

She wraps her arms around you as you take a deep breath as you slowly slide inside her, and you both gasp in pleasure.

You both moan in pleasure as you start to move, and she wraps her legs around you. You start to build up momentum, faster and faster, as you move together. The friction of the condom creates a warm, smooth sensation that sends pleasure through both of you with each thrust.

With each movement, you feel your connection with her deepen and you can feel the sensations in both your bodies become more intense.

"Vada," you sigh out, resting your head in the nape of her shoulder. She looks up at you and smiles, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. You kiss her softly and she wraps her arms around you tightly.

You can feel the warmth radiating from her body and you feel the love you have for her in that moment. You want to stay like this forever and the thought of having to part from her is too much to bear. You tightly embrace her and whisper that you love her. You feel her body trembling as she returns the embrace.

"I'm about to cum." She moans into your ear as she cums. You feel her body quivering and it sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. You hold her tight as you release as well. You collapse onto the bed, panting heavily. You lay there in each other's arms for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You kiss each other tenderly and drift off to sleep.

"Was I your first time?" She replies with a soft whisper, "No, Mia was." Your head snaps to her and she laughs, sighing out shortly after.

You take a moment to process what she said. "Really?" She nods, "It happened... multiple times... the fifth week of school." You take a deep breath and look away for a moment, trying to contain your confusion.

"Was I yours?" You shake your head smiling, "No, Ethan was." She lets out a loud laugh at your joke, laying her head on your chest. You take a deep breath and hold her close.

You feel a wave of emotions wash over you, grateful for the moment of comfort. You are filled with a sense of peace, knowing that you have someone to talk to and share your feelings with.

"I need to shower." You say. Vada nods rolling over. "You can join me, but you gotta be quiet." You smile, "Oh, you're telling me to be quiet now?"

You chuckle and lead her into the bathroom. You both take your time showering, enjoying the warmth of the water and each other's company. After, you dry off and return to your bedroom, both content and peaceful.

You wake up to a shout of your name. Looking to your left you notice Vada is still sound asleep. "Fuck," you rush up out of bed putting on your clothes before nearly darting downstairs to the kitchen, following the smell of breakfast.

Your mother is standing over the stove. Three plates of eggs and bacon already waiting for you on the table. She gives you a stern look before turning back to the stove. "There are three..." You mutter to her confused.

She points to the plates. "One for you, one for your girlfriend, and one for me. Now wake her up and come and eat."

You sheepishly smile turning on your heels to go wake up Vada.

[lowkeyrobin]

still so disappointed that mr pennycrumb [fives dog in the comics] didnt rlly appear much in the show </3

ok ok so its the academy's birthday and the reader is insanely good at gift giving and never forgets to give presents if theres smth special happening. they hand out the gifts to everyone except they avoid five and disappear w/o them knowing where they went, only to come back at dusk w/ a larger box. obviously five went insane and rambles on how worried he was before the reader finally shuts him up by plopping the box on him, and boom. theres a puppy.

[loved the last viktor fic btw. literally bawled my eyes out]

- 🦇

OMG YES the only appearance we saw was in s3 when Luther went on a jog before he got napped :( ; and thank you!! I got bored and I couldn't extend it any further so it's kinda dumb but it's alr haha ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also sorry this is so short and dumb idk writers block is so picky

FIVE HARGREEVES ; mr pennycrumb

summary ; when the umbrella academys birthdays roll around, you get five a whole ass dog

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; some of the gifts are related to hobbies/interests that are more of hcs than actual canon

word count ; 738

masterlist

When you walked into Allison's with multiple boxes and bags for the Hargreeves, they all knew you were at it again with your insane yet accurate gift giving. They started with cake, then moved over to presents.

Gift giving in the family was like secret Santa in a way. Everyone would essentially get gifts for all the others, and they'd pass around gifts one by one, usually by number order. Luther was always first, Viktor always last. Lila usually snuck in around Diego, because duh. Viktor had gotten used to being last, the forgotten one. But around his family now, he knew it wasn't like that anymore. He'd rather go last so everyone else could have their special time on their special day.

So, the group sets the gifts tagged for Luther on the table in front of him. The kids halfway watch from afar, paying attention to the TV and their toys more than their celebrating parents, aunts, and uncles.

You were among the minority in the house that didn't share a birthday with them, thank God. You would've gone insane over big birthdays like this.

Five, meanwhile, was going insane over you basically ignoring him all day.

You'd gotten Luther some workout gear, knowing he'd taken up going to the gym within the past couple of years. Among other gifts were little trinkets and other things he wanted. He was a little hard to shop for, never really wanting anything, enjoying the quality time over any gift giving.

Next was Diego, and inside the gift you got for him, was a knife sharpening kit. He'd lost his old one just in time. Lila came up next, receiving a few nice outfits you found for her and a gift card to Cosmoprof, as she'd been thinking about re-dyeing her hair to white again.

Next up was Allison, grateful for the numerous acting job business cards you'd given her on top of a bunch of books that were on her Amazon wishlist. She was a serious reader who wanted to get back into acting, now.

Klaus was after her, ecstatic about a carry-around cleaning kit. You were going to go with a joint maker to make his life easier before he got sober. Now he wouldn't need a full bag of cleaning supplies, he'd have your perfect gift.

Five decided to go last, wanting to watch his family be happy more than open presents himself.

Ben was next, receiving some letters from modeling agencies. As he should.

Viktor was second to last, very appreciative for the new drink recipes you'd made and found for him atop the pile of clothes you'd gotten him.

You disappeared around dusk, leaving Five to open his presents without presence. He was physically eighteen, mentally sixty-two today.

As he looks up, seeing the lack of you around, he hides a soft frown. He noticed how you weren't standing near him all night, how you barely even spoke around him.

"Did you do something to Y/n?" Klaus asks out of the blue. "They just kinda... dissappeared"

Five shrugs. "I don't think I did. Even if I did do something, they'd talk it out with me"

Allison shrugs. "I think that's them" she comments, looking out the screen door to see you pull up in your car again. "Diego, could you get the door?"

Diego turns around, unlocking the door for you, holding it open as he sees you holding a big box.

"Why is that box bigger than you?"

"Also, why is it moving?"

You set the box on the table in front of Five, a wide smile on your face. "Open it"

He slowly sets aside the large box of coffee pods he received from Diego to the side, slowly reaching for the box flaps. As he pulls them to the side, out jumps a little dog.

"Oh my God?"

Five smiles, pulling the puppy into his lap. He looks up at you, a glimmer in his eyes. "Why did you get me a dog?"

You shrug, moving the box off the table. "You're a lonely old man, you need some company"

He chuckles, petting the pug's head.

"What're you gonna name it?" Ben asks, arms crossed.

"Him" You correct

"Mr. Pennycrumb" Five answers.

"Why?" Luther asks.

The physically younger boy shrugs. "Why not?"

"Interesting choice" Klaus mutters with a shrug.

Five smiles up at you, giddy like a little kid. "Thank you"

"I try"

[luvrxbunny]

late night talking

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader 

Prompt: Phone Sex

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mutual masturbation  (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.5k

A/N: GUYS IM SORRY I'VE BEEN LATE I SWEAR IM TRYING (not proofread *sobbing*)

It’s around 1 AM when Eddie stumbles in, he’s high and just a teensy bit drunk. He has a stupid smile on his face because he’s expecting to see you nice and cozy in his bed. He walks into his room and is sobered by your absence, he speed walks quietly down the hall, making a beeline for the phone hanging off the wall. He’s thinking to himself as he puts your number in, trying to figure out why you aren’t here.

Was she taken? I bet it was Harrington, that motherfucker always wanted her. Dude can’t handle the fact she chose me.

Eddie has a prideful smile on his face as your phone rings. You pick up almost immediately. “Eddie? Are you okay?” His whole body relaxes at the sound of your voice, but… if you’re okay- seeming very un-stolen by Steve Harrington, then why weren’t you here? Sadness creeps into his chest. “Where are you?” He asks, voice completely deflated. He hears some shuffling before you answer him.

“I’m at my house, Eddie. Are you okay?” You ask him again with more force this time and he starts nodding before realizing you can’t see him. “Yeah. I’m okay… Why aren’t you here?” He sounds like he could cry- and he totally could. He gets more emotional when he drinks, and pairing that with the sensitivity he gets when he’s high you’re left with a crossfaded bundle of need and intimacy. 

You’d told Eddie that you wouldn’t be sleeping over at his place today, you guys’ midterms were starting tomorrow and you needed a good night’s sleep to not stress over them while testing. It’s not that you don’t sleep well with Eddie, it’s just that you guys can’t help but do a little more than sleep whenever you’re together. 

“Baby…” You start slowly, using that tone that Eddie loves. You’re talking to him like you’re breaking the news to a child that Santa isn’t real, full of pity, sadness, and love. It makes him all tingly inside. “I told you that I wouldn’t be there tonight.” He gasps softly into the receiver as the memory pops back into his head. “Remember..? I told you we have testing tomorrow and we both need to sleep. What are you even doing up this late? Did you just get home?!”

His spine straightens as your voice picks up, realizing that yes, he did just get home. Although he never confirms or denies, his silence is your answer. He hears you sigh into the phone and he slumps forward, disappointed in himself for not listening to you but then he realizes something. “Well, what are you doing up? You answered pretty fast, darling.” It’s your turn to go silent now. 

As previously mentioned, you and Eddie both have impressively high libidos, so every night you guys would be doing something, anything to get the other off. You stayed away from Eddie’s tonight so you could get some sleep instead of doing that. Unfortunately, it’s seemed to make its way into your routine so you’ve been fighting the urge for hours, unable to sleep a wink because of the incessant, hot, buzzing between your legs. Your body was begging for him, you’d tried to get yourself off for about 5 minutes before giving up. It just wasn’t as intense as when it’s Eddie’s hands on you, your body just wouldn't respond to you the same way. So you’ve been staring at your ceiling, praying for sleep to take you, and then Eddie called.

“Um…” He smiles, holding back a laugh as you try and figure out your answer. “I just miss you.” The message is sweet and heart-warming but you dropped your voice to that whisper you get when you need him. When he’s just practicing some chords and you don’t know how to ask him to take care of you. When you work your way over and tell him you ‘need his help’... you’re using that voice and he’s already getting hard. 

“Yeah? You miss me, baby?” His head looks both ways down the hallway as his hand comes to the front of his jeans, massaging his rapidly growing cock. “What do you mean? What do you miss, honey?” You’re squirming in bed, in Eddie’s t-shirt, and very ready for where this conversation is headed. Your hand has already made its way between your legs, rubbing yourself gently through your underwear as Eddie questions you. 

“I miss everything about you, Eddie.” You stick your hand into your panties, gathering some wetness to spread over your clit before pulling your hand out and rubbing yourself over your underwear. Eddie’s on the same wavelength as you, his hand now fully inside his boxers, teasing his leaking tip. He can hear your breathing quiver and his eyes roll back into his head. The fact that even though you’re both so far apart, you’re perfectly in sync. “Tell me about it, baby.” 

You whimper into his ear. “Eddie… Are you touching yourself?” His knees almost give out and he has to turn around so he can lean against the wall. His hand wraps around his cock and pulls up slowly as his eyes close, picturing you. “Yes.” You’re so silent that he thinks he answered wrong somehow and his hand stops. He’s waiting, listening- maybe you fell asleep. Then he hears it, the subtle whine in your breath and a slick noise behind the static of the phone. 

His hand moves again, stiffly in order to keep the phone perfectly placed on his ear to hear your noises. “Fuck, are- Are you touching yourself, love?” You moan his name into the receiver and slide your hand back into your pants, stuffing two fingers into your soaking pussy and whining to Eddie about how good it feels. You lay back onto your pillows, pulling the phone with you, and imagine that Eddie’s above you, that it’s his fingers stretching you out and pressing into your G-Spot. As if he can read your mind, Eddie prompts you. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking, baby. You’re real quiet over there, give me something to work with, love” You giggle lightly at his request and he groans in your ear, his hand squeezing around his cock as it pulses at the sound. “What? The thought of me isn’t enough?” He doubles his pace and shakes his head at no one. “Not when I’ve had the real thing f- for so long.” His words come out as a raspy whine, almost a sob as he continues. “How could you take her away from me?” You’re aroused yet confused at his words, you listen to him moan a bit before questioning him. “What- Eddie, who-” He cuts you off with a hushed sob. “Your pussy- need her so bad.” Your teeth tear into your bottom lip as moans try to fight their way out of your mouth. 

Eddie’s moaning about all the things he’s going to do to you and you can see them all perfectly, you can hear the truth in his voice, in everything he says. He’s whispering into the phone, making the whole ordeal even hotter. You had never stopped to actually think about why though, you pictured him in his bed, hand down his pants and legs spread for you. You’ve caught him like that before and the image plagues you constantly- but Eddie doesn’t have a phone in his room… 

Your pussy clenches onto your fingers as the image in your head shifts. Your head is now depicting Eddie as he truly is, back against the wall, phone in one hand and his other is shoved down his pants, moving wildly under the denim. You can’t hold in the moan that arises at the realization. “Eddie- Fuck, baby are you in your hallway?” He groans out a whimper into the phone and his cock begins to throb, his brain clouding over with thoughts of you, everything you guys have done, everything he wants to do, and everything you’d let him do. “Needed you.” That’s all he can get out before he’s giving you his little hushed sounds. You can feel yourself winding up, and the fire in your stomach begins to spread throughout your body. You’re gushing around your fingers as you listen to Eddie. You can tell he’s getting close, right on the edge and you want nothing more than to push him over.

“M’ gonna cum, Eddie. I-” You’re cut off by your whines as your hand leaves the receiver, using it to rub your clit, desperately working yourself closer to the edge. “Tried earlier but- I don’t feel like y-yo-” Your eyes roll back, your thighs shake and you try your best to hold all your sounds in but little whimpers make their way through the phone as your orgasm racks through you. You hear Eddie moan- probably louder than he should and a loud commotion. Your eyes are shut as you come down and you can hear Eddie moaning- then cursing- in the distance. 

You pry your eyes open and grab the phone again. “Eds?” He grunts out a few more curses and some chuckles before answering. “H-hey, sweetheart. I’m okay I-” He laughs at himself again, bringing a smile to your face with the sound. “I- My knees gave out. I fell” He sounds adorably embarrassed as you laugh at him He giggles along timidly and you assure him that it’s cute until you both fall asleep. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[captinamericashusband]

Sober Thoughts | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Stark!Male!Reader

REUPLOAD A/N: Hi. It is currently 12:41 AM – another restless night unfortunately sigh. After watching a YouTube video of someone reading the infamous Harry Potter fanfiction My Immortal (I love you Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way), I became filled with unbridled inspiration to write something of my own. Anyways, enjoy! Also this is the very first fanfiction I’ve ever written. Please please please (by Sabrina Carpenter) give constructive feedback that won’t be too harsh on my little soul. This’ll be a fluffy fanfic. I'll dabble in smut later on maybe if y'all enjoy this enough...teehee. Happy BRAT summer/autumn 💚

P.S. Any errors you see will be excused by the fact English is not my first language and NOT because I suck at writing and revising ;) This fic will also be posted on Ao3 after they accept my invitation. Pls let me in Ao3.

Sober Thoughts

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: Y/N gets very drunk in front of Steve

Warnings: Alcohol, profanity

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Being the son of Pepper Potts and the eccentric billionaire, playboy and philanthropist (in that exact order) Tony Stark came with its fair share of drawbacks. While financial security was a given for Y/N, a side that came with this coverage was endless PR events. Being the sole heir to the Stark company, Y/N was forcefully thrusted into the public eye at a very young age, constantly forced to appear at social gatherings for the general public to gain somewhat of a perception of him – hopefully for the better. Today was one of these socially exhausting days, and perhaps his least favourite event of all – the annual ‘Stark Gala: proceeds going to various charities!’ A boring name he is very well aware of, and yes the ‘proceeds going to various charities’ line was annoyingly part of the title – something he had so valiantly fought Tony on, albeit unsuccessfully. 

The gala starts in 2 hours. Currently, in stereotypical Stark fashion, Y/N lay sedentary on his bed, staring at the ceiling whilst pondering for ways to escape the tiring event. Amidst his angsty mood, a knock arose from his door followed by Tony entering his room. 

“Hey bud, no more moping around,” he said after flipping the light switch in Y/N's room, “gala’s not gonna dance itself.”

Y/N turned and laid on his belly, eyes stuffed into his pillow in an attempt to suppress the bright lights, “What if I just don’t come, dad? Just chalk my absence to a cold for the press, please. I have no will nor strength to do this.” 

“You know you can’t do that, Y/N/N. The public requests you grace them with your holy presence at the gala.”

“Dad, what if I just set fire to the venue?”

Tony scoffed at his son's comment. “Don’t bother with that sassy attitude, kid. It’ll be over in a flash. Just enjoy, grab some drinks – and hey you might even find yourself a nice date there.” He said, adjusting a frame on the wall. “My best advice is mingle until your mouth falls off – my dad used to say that to me.” 

As Tony continued slightly tidying Y/N's room, a muffled groan erupted from his pillow. Y/N knew he was very well right; there was no escaping. Resigning to his fate, he abruptly stood up from his bed and began rummaging through his closet. “Fine. I’m going because I want to go, not because you’re forcing me to.”

Tony chuckled and ruffled Y/N's hair. “That’s the spirit, champ. I promise you these things can be fun if you let them. Soak up the atmosphere. And enjoy the drinks.” He then murmured, “Just not too much, as well ‘cause…you know.” 

Tony’s sudden shift in tone was in reference to Y/N's relationship with alcohol. While Tony was notorious for being able to hold his liquor, the alcohol-tolerance gene had unfortunately not been passed down to his son. The last time Y/N drank, which had been at Clint’s birthday party, he had somehow woken up inside of a dumpster – not even exaggerating. Another time, he had taken a plane to Washington and found himself passed out on a bench outside the Pentagon – also not a hyperbole. Aware of this knowledge, Y/N planned on getting absolutely wasted in order to pass the time and to make the night somewhat memorable. 

Y/N ran a hand through his hair attempting to fix it whilst looking for proper attire. “Yes, yes I know, father figure. Do you promise it won’t be boring like last year?”

Tony feigned an offended look, putting his palm against his chest. “Boring? There was an open bar and a chocolate fountain – all appearing again this year, by the way. What more could a man ask for?”

“To not come.” Y/N said begrudgingly.

“Okay well sometimes certain things can’t be provided, sugar plum.” A grimace found itself on Y/N's face after hearing the nickname. Before he could respond, Tony was already halfway through the door. “Anyways, be ready by 8; we’re leaving at 8:30 sharp.”

------------------------------------

The night was, to say the least, already an absolute dread. Upon arriving at the upper-echelon-esque museum where the gala was being held, Y/N was already drained. After exiting the limousine that took both him and Tony to the museum, a torrent of camera flashes had blinded Y/N. Furthermore, before even entering the museum, a news reporter had shoved a microphone into his face and asked a very invasive question about his lovelife. Before Y/N could insult the reporter’s rude behaviour, Tony quickly grabbed his arm and ushered him into the museum. 

It was very well aware by the public of Y/N's choice of abstaining from dating, never really having any serious relationships. This was especially questionable for the public considering who his father was, with everyone believing Y/N would’ve followed in lieu of his behaviour during his 20’s. 

However, what the public didn’t know was that the reason for Y/N's singleness was because of one of his dad’s blonde colleagues (that wasn’t Thor). Y/N's crush for  Steve Rogers AKA Captain America had simmered for the last few months. It began during an incident in the Avenger’s Compound in which the inherent Stark idiocy had decided to bite Y/N severely in the ass.

------------------------------------

It had been late at night and Y/N had been tinkering on some project in one of Tony’s spare workshops in the compound when his phone suddenly rang. Picking it up, he saw Tony was calling him. He paused the music blaring in the workshop’s speakers before answering his dad. 

“Hey bud, I have a favour to ask.”

“What is it, father figure?” He set down a screwdriver he was holding down on the workshop table.

“First, you know I hate it when you call me that. Second, there are some files that were delivered to my office that need to be put into storage in the room beside the training area. Would you mind doing it for me?”

“And why can’t you get Happy or yourself to do it?”

“Well I am actually currently at dinner right now with your mother and we are having a blast right now, and Happy is enjoying a paid holiday in the Bahamas.” 

With an overexaggerated sigh, Y/N hung up on Tony and accepted without further question. 

Heading towards Tony’s office, he marvelled at the emptiness of the Avenger’s Compound. While he never interacted much with the Avengers, only in passing, he was aware that some of them were nightowlers. However, there really was no one. Usually, there would be at least a SHIELD agent somewhere, but tonight the building was completely desolate. 

Upon arriving at Tony’s office, Y/N immediately noticed the large boxes propped on his dad's desk. He had clearly underestimated the sizes of the office boxes, with one he (very dramatically) guesstimated being the size of his torso’s length with a width of a baby whale. Unfortunately for him, there were 5 boxes in total. Being the impatient ass he is, he had decided to carry all of the boxes in one go to spare himself having to return to Tony’s office for a second trip. He noticeably struggled and after leaving Tony’s office, he immediately regretted his decision, wishing he inherited more of his mother’s patience. From a bystander's perspective, it was a comical sight seeing Y/N Stark carrying a tower of boxes almost twice his height. 

After rounding a sharp corner – something that could’ve been easily avoided considering the size of the building’s hallways – Y/N  crashed right into another person. Y/N, along with the boxes, crashed loudly and painfully against the cement floor. 

"Shit," Y/N said out loud. The embarrassment from the predicament was too much for him, so he opted for keeping his eyes on the ground, seemingly becoming very interested in the flooring's designed patterns. He stayed in that position, wallowing in his shame until the other person he had forgotten about spoke up.

"Sorry about that, kid." A low and husky voice spoke above Y/N. Y/N moved his eyes from the floor to the other man in the hallway. He was met with piercing blue eyes and a head of light blonde hair. Great. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of someone, but that certain someone had to be Captain America of all people. Flashing the best smile he could conjure, Y/N stood up from the floor in an attempt to save as much face as possible.

"No, no, it was all my fault Steve," Y/N chirped. Wow, he sounded like a complete wimp. Not only that, but he called Captain America by his actual legal government name. Y/N did not consider himself close enough to call Captain America Steve. The situation was further going off the rails as they both stood in an uncomfortable silence for what seemed like forever. Suddenly, Steve spoke again, breaking the suffocating air of awkwardness.     

"Need help with those." Steve said, smiling slightly at Y/N. Thinking back on it now, it was definitely the smile that got Y/N hooked into Steve. With a curt nod, both of the men started cleaning the mess of files. "Do these need to be in a specific order?" Steve questioned. Quite frankly, Y/N did not care for the files' order; he was much more preoccupied with the strange feeling down in his stomach. He slapped himself internally before answering Steve.

"I'm not sure actually. The person reading these can decipher that themself." Steve chuckled at his words. An actual, genuine laugh. Y/N found whatever he said to not be as funny Steve was making it out to be. But nevertheless, good job Y/N! You made Captain America laugh at something you said! After tidying the files, the two of them started walking, Y/N in the lead with Steve following in his stead. 

"Where to, Stark Jr.?"  

"The storage room by the training grounds."

The walk to the files' designated area was filled with silence – not uncomfortable like before, but instead a somewhat pleasant quiet. Deciding to be bold, Y/N asked Steve a question.

"What do you do all day?" Wow, Y/N didn't intend on that sounding as rude as it did. 

"What do you mean?" Steve responded.

"Like, what do you do when there isn't a mission where you have to save the world or anything." Great save, Y/N said to himself.

"Well, if there isn't a mission I usually train in the gym – nothing bad in doing some extra training. Other than that, I usually visit SHIELD's headquarters to do business that I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." He turned and smiled at Y/N after saying the last part. The strange feeling was there again.

"That honestly sounds like a miserable existence."  Y/N said. Steve laughed and Y/N smiled, proud of himself for making Captain America laugh a second time this night. "Do you have any actual free time at all?"

"The only time we get to ourselves are weekends. I typically go for jogs in the morning then catch up on any work I didn't get to finish from the weekday. By the time I finish, it's already pretty late at night." As Steve continued to talk, Y/N couldn't help but sneak glances at him. Y/N had noticed a smile was etched on Steve's face and he wondered if it was because Steve enjoyed his company or if he was merely entertained by their topic of conversation. "If I have any time to spare, I like to draw. I've started taking painting classes recently."  

Y/N debated on whether or not to make a joke about Steve's work and him not "finishing" fast enough, but thought it was too weird even for him. "Wow, even on your day off your life sounds bland – aside from the drawing part I guess." Steve had laughed once more at what Y/N said, and Y/N silently applauded himself once again.   

Steve's smile persisted despite Y/N's slight insult to his daily life. "My turn to ask. What do you do all day? I never see you around that much." 

"That's 'cause I'm usually cooped up in a lab somewhere doing tech stuff I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." Steve chuckled again. "If I'm not doing techy stuff, then I'm usually doing boring paperwork for Stark industries. And if I'm not doing that, I'm sleeping peacefully in my bed."

"Now I'm offended by you calling my life bland when yours’ is equally as boring, Y/N," Steve joked.

"It'd be more exciting if you were in it." Oh Y/N, what exactly are you saying now? Suddenly, the signature Stark flirtiness accumulated within Y/N as the next words left his lips. "You should join me on my bed sometime." Oh sweet Jesus. Even Y/N himself shriveled from pure disgust at what he just said. It wasn't even a remotely good pickup line. He fully expected Steve to bolt away as soon as possible and leave him behind with the behemoth-sized boxes.   

Before Steve could respond, the pair found themselves in front of the storage room. Steve opened the door for Y/N who could only mumble a quiet thanks in response as he was still shaken up from his earlier misspeaking. Finding a secluded table in the room, Y/N set down the boxes with Steve following in suit. The two then exited the room and found themselves in yet again another uncomfortable silence. Before Y/N could hurriedly escape, Steve spoke.  

"You should get out of your lab more. I'd like to see more of you around if that's possible." Upon hearing that, the feeling from earlier was present again in Y/N's stomach except it had been exponentially stronger this time. "I enjoyed talking with you, Y/N."  

It was as if Y/N had lost any inkling of social awareness as he said his next remark. "You'd practically have to pry me off a workbench with those big arms of yours, Steve."  

Steve only laughed in response, clearly somewhat amused by Y/N's bold eccentricity. "I'll see you around, Y/N." Steve started walking away before suddenly turning around with a smirk on his mouth. "Oh, and I'll take you up on that earlier offer." 

------------------------------------

Ironically enough, Y/N and Steve have yet to converse with each other again after their brief encounter. This was mainly due to Y/N avoiding Steve after having said his embarrassing comments – especially about Steve's arms, something Y/N can't help but gag at upon reflection. Looking back at their moment together, Y/N can only sigh and hope the super soldier forgot about his humiliating behaviour. 

Looking around the museum, Y/N stared in awe at the inside's appearance. The building itself had replicated the architecture and grandeur of Ancient Greece, with large columns on the building's interior and exterior. While the building itself was an architectural beauty, what really stood out were the floral decorations garnered around the room, both on the tables surrounding the middle of the museum designated as a dance floor and hanging in between the interior pillars. Y/N had to remind himself to find his mother later, who arrived hours earlier to help decorate, and commend her keen taste in floral arrangements. 

Y/N's moment taking in the interior decor was interrupted when he was approached by Tony and a stubby man wearing a suit. Tony introduced the man to Y/N who turned out to be one of Stark Industries' business partners. Nothing notable was said in their conversation aside from numbers and Y/N's vision for the future of Stark Industries. This was how the first half of the night went: Tony introduced Y/N to one of his business partners, boring conversations about logistics would ensue, Y/N was asked about his ideas on Stark Industries' future – rinse and repeat. After numerous runs of this seemingly perpetual cycle, Y/N's social battery had been absolutely drained and Operation Get-Drunk-And-Pass-Out was set in motion. Excusing himself from Tony's presence, Y/N ran a beeline towards the bar, his stride swift with determination to get his hands on anything alcoholic.

Taking a seat at the bar, Y/N began thinking about what he would drink. Suddenly forgetting every alcoholic beverage that ever existed, he waved down the bartender to get his first drink of the night. "I'd like whatever will get me the most piss-faced, please." The bartender simply gave him a cordial smile and nod before pouring a single clear liquid into a small shot glass. He then gave Y/N the glass who before drinking said, "bottoms up." The mystery liquid was absolutely repulsive and scorched Y/N's throat. His face puckered up in pain, eyes shut as tears formed at the brim of his ducts. "Jesus, dude, what is this!?"

"Everclear." The man answered with a very thick Russian accent. Y/N had no idea what that was nor was aware of its very high alcoholic percentage, almost being pure alcohol.  What he did know was the vile taste and painful burn signified it was able to get him 100% wasted. 

"I'll take 10 more of those, please."

------------------------------------

At shot four, Y/N's vision had started getting blurry, his lips and skin felt tingly, and he kept laughing at the most nonsensical things to laugh at. His drunkenness was made very apparent for everyone at the bar when he pointed towards someone's poorly trimmed goatee and laughed maniacally at it. While his actions had been in poor-taste and he was making a grand fool of himself, Y/N could care less as he revelled with his newly acquainted friend, Everclear. 

Before downing shot number five, a man had approached and sat beside Y/N and began ordering. To his surprise, Captain America in the flesh had situated himself beside him at the bar. Knowing Y/N's already embarrassing encounter with him sober, only God knows what was about to ensue between the two of them while he was intoxicated. 

“Enjoying the night, Mr. America?” Y/N slurred. 

“Clearly not as much as you, Y/N.” Steve responded. He was currently sporting a classic black and white tux with a dark blue tie. His attire, while as basic and stereotypical as they come for a formal event, suited him perfectly. Being the idiot Y/N was while drunk, the spike of confidence that surged within him caused him to comment on Steve's appearance.

Y/N leaned towards Steve, getting very close in his personal space, then saying, “apologies, Captain, but you sure do look ravishing if I do say so myself. I’m proud to be an American.” Y/N giggled at himself while Steve looked at him with an amused expression. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re flirting with me, Y/N.” Steve said, flashing his captivating smile. Y/N stared at him with dazed eyes before leaning back and downing his fifth shot of liquid courage.

"Maybe I am flirting with you, Steve. That's what I was doing last time we talked in case you didn't realize."

"Yes, you were quite subtle the last time we spoke." He said sarcastically. He took a sip of whatever he ordered from the bar before continuing. "Speaking of, I've been meaning to talk to you ever since that night, but I could never get a hold of you."

Y/N laughed, not knowing if Steve actually knew why he hasn't seen him since or if he really was oblivious. "Well, Steve, I was avoiding you because I made a fool of myself the last time we talked." A hiccup came out of Y/N's throat. "And then I said to myself, 'Steve probably thinks I'm weird so I'll avoid him to prevent any further embarrassment'." 

"Well, I really did enjoy our conversation last time, Y/N. I mean it."

Similar to their last encounter, a wave of deafening silence consumed the pair's conversation, the awkward tension causing Y/N to become slightly sober. Fortunately for him, the alcohol was still very much prevalent in his bloodstream, giving him enough confidence to break the awkward silence.

"Sometimes I wish I could just run away – leave this life behind and escape to some deserted island.” Y/N glanced towards Steve who was already looking at him. "It's too much at times – this life."

"It would be easier if you had someone with you for the journey."

Y/N looked at him, feigning an incredulous look. "Are you implying with your word choice, manner of speaking and overall cadence that you want to be that person for me?" Y/N laughed, scoffed was more like it. "I'd say you're the person flirting with me, Steve."

Steve chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving Y/N. "Maybe I am, Y/N."

Y/N could only stare at him as his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was the alcohol messing with his senses and disposition, but his usual wit was gone and he was speechless – a rare moment for Starks. Noticing his hesitation, Steve leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a near whisper.

"Y/N, you don't have to go through this life alone. I've seen through your father how hard it can be for someone in your position. But you don't have to bear it all by yourself."

"Do you really mean that, Steve? Or are you just saying all this because I'm drunk and pathetic." Y/N's voice wavered, the confidence he had during their last encounter was noticeably absent.

Steve reached out, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "I've noticed you, Y/N. Even though we haven't talked much, I can already tell you're a special person. You're more than just Tony Stark's kid. There's something unique about you. And I want to get to know you more."

The butterflies Y/N felt during their last encounter returned and did pirouettes in his stomach. "I don't know what to say, Steve."

"You don't have to say anything right now. Just know I'll be here and I won't be leaving anytime soon."

Y/N looked at Steve, a whirlwind of emotions torpedoing inside of him. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone. The confidence suddenly returned and a smile braced itself on Y/N's face. "Are you technically asking me out?"

Steve only laughed in response before standing up and saying, "I can take you home now if you want."

Y/N quickly stood up. "Oh yes please, Steve. Another minute in here and I think I'll have an aneurysm." As the two started walking, a sudden wave of a burdening reminder of his father's presence washed over Y/N. "Wait, I can't leave – dad said I-." 

Before Y/N could finish, Steve quickly interrupted him. "I think everyone here, including Tony, can see you're in no condition to be here any longer." 

Y/N could only nod, too exhausted to protest. As they exited the building Y/N's head grew heavy, and it gently fell onto Steve’s shoulder. Steve tensed for a moment, then relaxed as his arm slowly wrapped around Y/N’s waist, pulling him closer. “Take me home, Steve,” Y/N mumbled softly against his shoulder, his breath warm against Steve’s neck.

"That's what I'm doing right now, Y/N." Steve said softly.

------------------------------------

After exiting the building, Steve hailed one of the idle limousines across the museum. He had to carefully slide in Y/N's body before sliding in beside him.

The ride back to the Avenger's Compound was quiet and tranquil, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the earlier evening. Steve glanced at his watch - it said 3:33 AM - then turned his gaze towards Y/N's sleeping body leaning against the car window. A small dribble of saliva was escaping the corners of his mouth, and Steve quietly chuckled.

"I can feel you looking at me. Cut it out." 

"Unfortunately, I can't seem to stop my eyes from lingering on things I find beautiful." Y/N could only blush at Steve's unexpectedly sappy words, unaware the super soldier had it in him to be a corny romantic.

"You're no better than any other man, Steve Rogers," Y/N teased, though his voice was softer than before. Steve smiled, but was interrupted by a loud yawn erupting from his mouth. Abruptly, Y/N sat up straight from his slouched position, suddenly remembering something in his drunken haze. "You know, you still have yet to cash in on my offer, Steve."

"You mean your offer to be in bed with you?" Steve asked, his tone in between amusement and curiosity.

Y/N eagerly nodded. "I wouldn't mind if that happened tonight."

Steve's head turned at a concerning speed that definitely would've given a normal person severe whiplash. He gave Y/N a stern yet somber look, one that carried warmth with a reprimanding undertone behind it. "I'm not going to sleep with you, Y/N. I mean, you're drunk and that would be me taking advantage of you – I'd like to think you expect better from me."

Y/N blinked, looking both very offended and embarrassed. "That is absolutely not what I meant, Steve, you naughty man!" He crossed his arms and sunk into the limo's soft leather seats. "I meant that it would be nice if we just laid and went to sleep together...I just don't want to be alone tonight."

Steve's expression softened immediately, understanding the vulnerability behind Y/N's words. Their eyes met, a silent agreement shared between them, filling the rest of the ride with warmth from their comforting connection. 

As the car grew quiet again, Y/N, emboldened by the last remnants of alcohol in his system, threw one more cheeky remark towards Steve. "But you would have sex with me, right?" 

Steve laughed, his head shaking, but the tenderness in his smile spoke volumes. "Get some rest, Y/N. We'll talk in the morning."

------------------------------------

Y/N stirred awake in his bed, his eyes wincing as the harsh rays pierced through a gap between his bedroom curtains. His head pounded, and a wave of nausea met him immediately. Unable to fight it, Y/N ran to his bathroom, purging the contents of last night's festivities in his toilet. It was quite a horrid sight. 

After what seemed like hours, Y/N exited from his bathroom, wanting to get more sleep. Stumbling back to his bed, he noticed the large body-shaped mound from underneath his blankets. Frightened, he approached it cautiously, scared of the idea of having drunkenly slept with a stranger. 

Slowly uncovering the body, Y/N was met with the peaceful sight of a sleeping Captain America. Steve's chest rose and fell steadily, lips parted as he took even breaths. Then, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him like a semi-good dream and Y/N mentally facepalmed himself. However, while he internally scolded himself for his embarrassing behaviour, he also congratulated himself for having been somewhat successful in his endeavours of pursuing Steve. 

Laying back down gingerly beside Steve, Y/N grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The time was 11:11 AM and Y/N silently made a wish to himself. He noticed he had received 10 missed calls and nearly 50+ messages from his dad. Thinking it was regarding his early leave from the gala, Y/N decided to deal with his father later, still exhausted from the night before. Opening Twitter (he refused to call it 'X'), Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he saw his name trending alongside 'Steve Rogers' and 'Captain America.' A knot formed in his stomach and he decided to Google his name. The urge to puke suddenly returned as he was met with a news article reading:

‘Hottest New Couple in NYC?! – Captain America & Y/N Stark Seen  Seen Getting Cozy During Annual Stark Gala’  

Below the headline was a picture snapped of Steve and Y/N at the bar, Steve leaning closely towards Y/N as both shared very flirtatious smiles towards each other. Y/N groaned loudly, causing Steve to stir awake. Today was going to be PR hell.

FIN

A/N: This actually took multiple days to write and while rereading it it's actually really corny? But, fanfic writing is actually kind of fun, I might do it more. Anyways, hope you enjoyed :) Also sorry for any mistakes I'm too lazy to revise

[the-offside-rule]

Oscar Piastri (McLaren) - Drunken

Requested: yes

Prompt: "Can I get a oneshot where Oscar and the reader are roommates and Oscar confesses he's in love with her one night. You can end it however you want, I would just love some drama"

Warnings: drunk Oscar...bit of angst....and heartbreak

Oscar tumbled into the bathroom, a goofy grin on his face and a distinct wobble in his step. Y/n sighed,as she watched him nearly bang his head of the toilet seat. "Careful, Oscar." She said, holding him up by his hoodie. "Oscar, you're a mess." She chuckled, trying to keep her tone light as she helped him. "You're an angel." He loudly announced. "Okay, buddy. Just right into the toilet. Come on, here we-"

"But I love you so much," Oscar slurred, his eyes filled with affection as he attempted to grab her hand. Y/n chuckled, gently taking it in hers and running her fingers through his hair. "I love you too, but you're going to regret this tomorrow." Oscar pouted. "No regrets, just love." Y/n sighed, still with a fake smile on her lips. "Okay, let's just focus on getting sick now. Come on." Oscar waved his arms around. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Y/n. I don't know how I would have gotten here- wait no- I don't know. I just love you, okay?" She rolled her eyes. "Well, you're not the best thing that's happening to me right now. You're being a bit much"

"But I'm your bit much." He insisted with a goofy grin. "What does that even mean?" She asked. "It means you're stuck with me, baby! Whether you like it or not!" Y/n couldn't help but smile at his antics. "Yes, my 'bit much'. Do you need to get sick?" Oscar looked up. "I don't think I need to get sick." He slurred. "You don't need to throw up?" She asked, just making sure. "I don't need to throw up- I am a grown man!" Y/n giggled. "Alright. We'll head head bed." She smiled, helping her roommate up off the ground.

Oscar flopped onto the bed, looking up at her with puppy-dog eyes. "Stay with me?" Her heart felt like it jumped. "We live together? You'resure you want me to sleep in your bed again?" She asked, tucking him in. "Again? You've slept in my bed before?" Y/n nodded. "Nice one." Y/n burst out laughing. "You're such an idiot." Oscar looked up beaming. "Come here." He said, pulling her into bed with him and snuggling up to her. "You're everything." Y/n smiled and pecked his forehead. "For today, maybe." She mumbled, trying to stifle a laugh. "No, you'll always be everything to me." As Y/n settled in next to him, Oscar kept rambling on about how lucky he was to have her. Eventually, annoyance started to creep into Y/n's expression.

"Oscar, seriously, you need to sleep this off. We can talk about your undying love for me tomorrow when you're sober." He pouted again. "You don't want me to tell you how amazing you are?" Y/n rolled her eyes. "Look its great and all, but not when you never say this sober. We are roommates. Now, close your eyes and go to sleep." Oscar sighed dramatically, closing his eyes. "Fine, but only because you're so persuasive." As Y/n watched him drift off, she couldn't help but smile. Despite the annoyance, there was a sweetness to Oscar's drunken affection that she found endearing. She sighed, knowing that in the morning they wouldn't be this affectionate. She would still just be his roommate.

"Morning." Oscar groaned, stumbling into the kitchen as Y/n sat on the sofa watching TV. "Morning. How's the head?" She asked. "Not good. Very not good." She hid a laugh as she watched the TV. Shortly after, Oscar joined her with a pint of water and plopped down onto the couch. "I don't even wanna know what I did last night." Y/n looked over to him, slightly confused. "You were blackout drunk?" Oscar nodded. "The last thing I remember was the jägerbomb." Y/n turned back around to watch the TV. He didn't remember anything about what they said to eachother last night? Nothing at all? "Do you remember anything you did last night?" Y/n asked, slightly hopeful he did. Oscar pouted and shook his head. "Haven't a clue. I didn't do anything stupid did I?"

Y/n felt her heart strings being played. She smiled and shook her head helplessly. "Nothinf worth noting, no." Oscar chuckled lightly and lay back. "Good. Crisis averted." Y/n nodded and kept her attention on the TV, taking all the strength in her to keep her tears in. He always did this. He always became so loving when he was drunk and the when he was sober, he'd be the complete opposite. It made her feel horrible, like she was being used. It was horrible, this was horrible. "Yeah...crisis averted..."

[painted-bees]

[cw: explicit content🔞]

March 18th 2009

  The top floor balcony of the humble recording studio overlooked a small backroad. It was just high enough to grant a view over the roofs of surrounding buildings, out towards the mountains, across the harbour. But thick cloud cover and the darkness of night collaborated to hide the Rockies from sight this evening. Instead, Raf’s gaze washed impassively over the array of city lights that extended across the harbour and disappeared into the distant North Vancouver neighbourhoods. He took a sip from the bottle of water in his hand and invited the evening chill to sober him up. 

  Behind him, the din of party revelry outcompeted the exterior ambiance of late-night city traffic. Hi-Note wasn’t usually so lively this close to midnight. Its business hours only ran until 8pm at the latest, and, save for the evenings when he used to jam here with Magritte, Raf usually had the place vacated and locked up within that same hour.

  Today was a special occasion. It was the junior technician, Herbie’s, birthday. Since he had little where else to celebrate, Nels had hosted a surprise party for him in the studio. It wasn’t the first birthday Herb had celebrated in Vancouver, but it was the first birthday following a rather heartbreaking split with his once-steady girlfriend. The usually jovial lad had been, understandably, a lot more quietly introspective over the past few months. Once Nels had gained the knowledge that Herb had no big, exciting birthday plans this year, the rest was inevitable.

  Raf had driven to work, and wholly planned to drive back home. Towards that end, he enjoyed his drink and smoke early, cut himself off early, and was now finally feeling clear minded enough to collect Margie and call it a night. Intending to do exactly that, Raf turned towards the sliding door of the balcony, downing his last gulp of water. And–discovered that Margie had found him first.

  A smug grin and a playful wave preceded her sliding open the door. She stepped out onto the balcony, pulling the door shut behind her. “Ey, nice hiding spot, Ephrem!” She rubbed her hands together, watching her breath hang in the chilly air as she approached him. 

  Raf relented to leaning back against the balcony railing as Magritte dropped her elbows on it, beside him. “I was just about to go in and get you.”

  She sighed and looked out across the harbour. “Past your bedtime?”

  “Nah, the party’s winding down anyway. But I kinda wish I found you out here sooner. This view is really nice.” She sighed wistfully. “Glittery.”

  He provided a self-depreciating smirk. You could set your watch to Raf’s night time routine and, typically, if he wasn’t in bed between eleven and eleven-thirty, he’d be grumpy if there wasn’t a good reason for it. A birthday, he supposed, was as good a reason as any.

  “If you’re not ready to head home yet…” He allowed his easy capitulation to hang unspoken in the space between them.

  Raf made no motion to herd her back inside. Instead, he placed his empty water bottle down by his feet and then settled further against the railing. He wasn’t worried about waiting much longer out here. Magritte had a low tolerance for cold, and the chilly March breeze would chase her back inside within a reasonable amount of time. Still, he didn’t want to give her the sense he was in any kind of hurry. Genuinely, he wasn’t. 

  “Yanno, this is the weirdest place I’ve ever worked at.” Magritte furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “Just a bunch of guys being pals, but also…not weird about it. And stuff gets done. And I–” She turned to look at him, “I help with that. Like, actually!” She turned her back to the landscape, electing to mirror Raf’s posture. “Okay, this sounds stupid but like…I’ve never felt good at a job before. Not just that, I’ve been proactive? I get to do stuff before someone has to ask me to do it? And, I do it properly? Wild. Nels even likes me!” She beamed up at him. “He called me ‘Supergirl’ today after hearing the vocal mixing I did for Cybele Fray.”

  “Yeah…” Magritte pressed her palms against her cheeks and smooshed her face in a pensive gesture that wasn’t intended to look as silly as it did. “I’m worried I’ll lose interest and pitter out eventually. But until then, I’ll just enjoy feeling useful. And smart.”

  Raf favoured her with a smirk, and wrinkled his brow in substitute for a shewed shrug. “Nels loved you the minute he saw you. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the first job you feel competent at is the first job that has you working with audio and such. You’re doing what you like doing.”

And, Raf thought, employed by someone who actually knows how to manage you.

It’s true that Hi-Note made excellent use of Margie’s savant-like skills, but not all of it had been absolutely enthralling to her. A bored Margie was difficult to keep on task, but somehow Nels had managed to navigate her ‘on again, off again’ pattern of productivity. Largely, Raf noticed that Nels cycled her off monotonous tasks before they had a chance to bore her–no matter their state of completion. And then, he’d put her back on it as soon as she looked ready to smooth her brain on something simple and repetitive again. Raf had taken that observation–and applied it at home. Very quickly, he helped her build a habit of taking just one dish out of the sink, washing it, and putting it away, any time she found herself in the kitchen during a moment of aimless roving. Not always, mind you…but often enough. One thing at a time, and the order of it doesn’t matter.

  Raf considered whether or not he ought to affirm to her for the umpteenth time that she was one of the most brilliant people he had ever met. But the window of opportunity closed when she continued talking. 

  “Life’s been really…easy this year, so far. Like, the easiest it’s ever been. I like it. A lot.” She turned her eyes up to him with an unspoken question that he couldn’t quite read.

  “Same.”

  “Really?” Her questioning gaze pressed further.

  Raf measured her for a moment.

  Yet–there she was.

  Until she showed up, he had been living alone in a two bedroom, downtown apartment; a feat of luxury by Vancouver standards. He’d have described it as a relatively ‘small’ space; each room was big enough to fit a bed, a dresser, a night stand, and little else. But, two bedrooms were still two bedrooms. Near Yaletown, no less. Truth be told, the income he was making at Hi-Note would not have been enough to afford it, if he had to rely on it alone. But he had been rather uncompromising about having a spare room for guests–until Magritte moved in. Now, that room was hers; guests be damned.

  It was a bit strange to think about. Generally, Raf preferred being alone. He found that living with anyone else always came with more stress than it was worth; whether it was with a steady romantic partner, or a family member. He was fairly certain that he’d never lend himself to the horrors of rooming with a friend who barely knew him. The very idea had felt like a violation against the sanctity of his home–the one place he could withdraw and hide into when he needed the peace and quiet to sort himself out. He didn’t trust family nor lovers to respect his space when he most needed it. A roommate as impersonal as a friend would have been much worse, and for absolutely nothing.

  He had first invited Magritte to crash at his place on an impulse. Though he feared the precedent it may have set, she didn’t overstay her welcome. In fact, she had barely stayed at all. That hadn’t surprised him nearly as much as his resulting disappointment had. And so, he invited her again. And again. And again. And each time, he confirmed for himself that she was simply…good company. He slept easier on the nights she occupied the guest room. His mood each morning felt buoyed by her presence, even before she emerged to greet him in the kitchen. He just liked talking to her. The baseline of her mood seemed to always be several levels more pleasant than his own, and the way she carried her joviality made it infectious, not grating. Even on the mornings when she had shuffled into the kitchen muttering a preemptive apology for her irritable mood, she had been sweet about it.

  Magritte did something to his brain chemicals that medications just couldn’t compete with. But what that was exactly, he had no god damn clue. The only other thing he could think of that would come close to eliciting the same kind of response from him–might have been something like…having a box of fluffy kittens gently dumped on him. Maybe that’s what she was to him; a box of sweet, soft, wobbly kittens–personified. It would certainly explain the cuteness-aggression she often provoked; that overwhelming desire to just scrunch her up into a little ball and tear her apart with his teeth…affectionately.

  Oftenly, so did she.

  Now she had her own key to the apartment and, over the winter, the guest bedroom had slowly been transformed into her disorderly, war-torn little nest. A true nightmare to behold for all the clutter and chaos; clothing haphazardly strewn across every inch of floor, and a plethora of dirty cups and plates on–and around–the nightstand by her bed.

  Strangely, it didn’t bother him. She had warned him of her negligent cleanliness habits well in advance. In fact, she had initially cited it as her reason for not wanting to overstay at his place. In response, he had given her the room to do with as she pleased–on the sole condition that she kept the door closed and ensured her mess never breached containment. If he didn’t like it, he simply didn’t have to look at it. Aside from leaving dishes in the sink (and occasionally on the living room coffee table), Magritte had been pretty good at maintaining her end of the bargain. By and large, her messes stayed confined to her room.

  When it came to the matter of Raf coveting his peace and quiet, Magritte had proven to be no trouble at all. That was remarkable, considering how loud she was in almost everything she did. But, most evenings after work, she straight up ignored him. She spent her time holed up in her bedroom, playing music and browsing the internet. Raf had once expressed appreciation for Margie’s unobtrusiveness–and was met with a mixture of disbelief and tremendous relief from her. Apparently, most others hadn’t found the same kind of comfort he did in a roommate that happily kept to themselves. She had grown accustomed to worrying that her ‘shut-in’ behaviour was excessive and inconsiderate, because if someone didn’t come and pull her away from her hobbies, she was liable to get lost in her solitary activities for hours. For Raf’s part, he was just content knowing she was there if he felt in need of company, but rarely did he feel compelled to call upon her for it. He liked her little routine of being present in the mornings, joining him for lunch, winding down with him for an hour after work, and then emerging once more for dinner before they both disappeared to their respective corners of the apartment for the rest of the evening–until bedtime.

  While Magritte spent the days in her room, she developed a habit of spending most of her nights in his bed. He accepted the blame for that. Generally preferring to sleep in cooler temperatures, he neglected to consider that his love for a brisk chill wasn’t universally shared. To his quiet horror, he learned one morning that Margie’s feet were often corpse cold. The nail beds on her toes would turn purple from poor circulation, she’d get sensitive little blisters under the skin, and the ache of being chilled through the bone would keep her awake at night. Genuinely, the bones in her feet were colder than the ambient temperature. He wouldn’t have thought it possible if he hadn’t felt the impossible iciness of her skin with his own hands.

  She had laughed, telling him that this was just how things always were for her during the winter months. It’s why she so greatly preferred the sweltering heat of summer. And that’s when Raf offered to let her cosy up in his bed. He always felt too warm at night, and she had literal ice blocks for feet. The solution seemed pretty obvious to him.

  And so, she had spent most of the winter nights with her feet pressed against his back, tucked behind his knees, or sandwiched between his legs. That same arrangement led Raf to discover that sleep came easy when he had something–or someone–to curl his arms around at night. And just like that, over the course of three short months, Magritte had nearly extinguished his reluctant dependence on sleeping medication. 

  As far as roommates were concerned, Magritte was…an unusual one. If he had tried to explain any of the peculiar details about their mutual arrangements to literally anyone else, he knew what it all sounded like. He had considered that maybe he was attracted to Margie; head-over heels in love with her. The problem was, he had been in love before. It made him stupid. And it made him unmanageably paranoid. Weird elation tangled with exhausting, antagonising suspicion; the highest highs and lowest lows. Margie didn’t make him stupid nor particularly paranoid. In fact, he had been able to navigate her with a level of clear-minded ease that was somewhat unusual to him. Perhaps it was in the way she spoke plainly and honestly with him. Despite how hard he looked for it, there was never any hidden nuance to the things Magritte said, wanted, or felt.

  Paranoia still sunk its hooks into him the same way he had grown to expect it–but a different part of him, a voice of reason that he had been working hard to cultivate, granted him a very small, very rare sense of satisfaction when he turned it to Margie’s defence. So he cared for her, at the very least. But she didn’t burden him with the dizzying gauntlet of infatuation. He wasn’t in love with her.

  But she was easy to be with. And, under her influence, life had felt much kinder.

  “Yeah, really.”

  Raf watched relief wash over Margie’s features, and she let out a little chuckle. “Oh, good. ‘Cus, yanno…usually, if I’m having a good time, it’s ‘cus someone else is running themselves ragged for it. And I don’t want you to–”

  “I promised I’d tell you if things ever started feeling off,” Raf cut in. “It’s been weird, but not off-putting. I’ve liked it, so far.”

  Her eyes held him with an expression he couldn’t quite identify, something close to tearful. But there was a delighted, grateful reverence in her gaze that wounded him in a peculiar way. He felt compelled to soothe it.

 “Hey.” Impassively, he pushed himself off the balcony railing to stand and turn towards her. “Can I try something?”

  Her mouth twitched upward in a quizzical smirk. “What?” Raf tilted his head to one side, and leaned in just enough to spur a response from her, “Oh-! Yeah? Yeah!? Ok, yes!”

  He kissed her. 

  If he liked it? If it made him uneasy? If it did anything for him, at all?

  It was a soft, gentle, fleeting little gesture; he didn’t hold it for more than a second. It was just a taste, to see–

 To see what?

  He lingered as he considered it, and just barely had time to register the broad grin on Magritte’s face before he felt her warm hands cup his jaw. She pulled him into another, far more impassioned kiss of her own–and he met her lips with the energy to match.

  As her fingers snaked around the back of his neck, he felt his hair raise beneath her touch. He leaned into her more bodily, bracing against the railing with a firm, steadying grasp. He hadn’t intended anything more than a chaste little peck, but he felt Margie’s soft lips part to invite his tongue, and was loath to leave her wanting. Her fingers ran up the back of his head, combing through his hair, and then curled back down to tenderly caress behind his ears.

  A thrill of warmth originating from her hands shivered through his body–to his groin. It coaxed a surprised purr out of his throat, and he caught it in his mouth before turning into a snort through his nose. He broke the kiss, pulling away from Magritte’s grasp to drop his forearms onto the cold balcony railing beside her, curling over himself to rest his forehead atop them.

  There was a moment of silence as Raf found himself more thankful than ever for the chill evening breeze. And then Margie’s tentative voice met his ear.

  “S-sorry. I got…I got a little carried away.”

  Raf reluctantly lifted his head to shoot her a self-deprecating smile. “Not just you.” 

  He watched her brow furrow with concerned bewilderment for a brief moment before the combination of details clicked in her mind.

  “Oh-!” Her eyes grew wide with mischievous delight, “I gave you a boner!” The exclamation came as hushed as she could manage, but her triumphant grin spoke volumes. 

  He shut his eyes in a beleaguered wince. “Don’t sound so pleased.” He opened them again when he felt her lean against his arm.

  She tilted her head to catch his gaze, and wore a cheeky smile. “We can go home and do something about it, if you want.”

  Hold on, now. “Nnn…”

  Well, maybe?

  He cast her an incredulous look. 

  “Or not!” She pulled back with an exaggerated shrug. “I know people get weird about that kinda thing–or–maybe I’m weird about it. I dunno, I’ve never been bothered by, uh…” The sentence dissolved into a weak chuckle, and her cheeks flushed pink under the faint, warm lighting that emanated from within the studio.

  Raf had never been one for casual flings. Some manner of romantic attachment had always been prerequisite before the idea of sex could carry any appeal to him at all. But then again, he never had a friend as openly straightforward as Margie before. She was as uncomplicated as they came, and Raf recklessly wondered if that would at all be compromised by taking up the offer she had just presented to him. It felt irresponsible to even consider it, but…

  Your stupid fingers in my hair got me feeling some kind of way.

  Embarrassing, how easily he had been turned on. But then again, it had been a fair few years since anyone had touched him like that and, woe betide him, a man was still a man after all.

  It was wrong about Margie. And if it wasn’t, well.

  And then there was the matter of Margie’s confidence. He liked the kiss–he obviously liked the kiss. Her ensuing proposition wasn’t a wholly unwelcome one, either. But, for someone who claimed she wasn't able to read between the lines with people, she was an expert adept at reading far too much into anything that could be perceived as a rejection. She had escalated things, but he had started it–and he didn’t want her to feel shame for reciprocating the way she had. The awful, feral part of his brain that he loathed screamed like a banshee; the usual chorus about ulterior motives and emotional manipulation. It was wrong, of course. It was always wrong.

  Except for when it wasn’t.

  If I die, I die. Fuck.

  “Sure, let's try it on.” 

  Margie stared up at him with those wide, blue eyes, but her brow was tense with uncertainty. “Really?”

  He provided a small shrug. “We already share a bed. This’ll just be another weird thing we do in our growing list of weird things. Maybe we’ll change our mind on the way home. But at the very least, I wouldn’t mind another kiss or few.” To illustrate his point, he leaned in and pressed his lips sweetly against her forehead. 

  When he pulled away, Margie stood up straight and bounced on her heels, holding her face in her hands. “Okay, okay! Yeah!” She darted towards the door and slid it open. “I’ll go get my coat, and–!”

  She stopped short of scurrying inside, and turned to ensnare him in a tight little hug. Raf didn’t have time to close his arms around her in response before she broke away from him again to scamper down the hall. He stared after her for a bewildered moment as she disappeared around the corner, towards the stairs.

  By the time he caught up with her again, she was already downstairs saying her farewells to the Hi-Note crew. She wrapped Herb up in an energetic hug that he happily reciprocated. 

  A large hand clapped Raf on the back before a familiar voice behind him asked, “Everything good?”

  He turned to see Nels favouring him with a warm smile. 

  “Yeah, I was just…” He pointed a loose finger towards the ceiling, “taking a moment.”

  Of everyone in the room, Nels was the only person who knew about Raf’s disorders. He was the first glimpse Raf ever had of what a ‘proper’ father was supposed to look like. The man was raising three daughters at home and brought that same air of patient, fatherly responsibility into the office with him each day. Raf, in particular, had been adopted by him as a kind of nephew. Nels was a best friend to his Uncle Bill, and Bill trusted him to help Raf settle into a good circle of friends and acquaintances. Raf had been reluctant to grow familiar with anyone who wasn’t his Uncle, but with a significant amount of encouragement from both his Uncle and his therapist, Raf stuck it out with Hi-Note through the several occasions he had been tempted to quit on a bad vibe, misinterpreted comment, or fearful hunch. So far, it had been working out favourably for him. The pay wasn’t great, but Raf didn’t need the income of a steady job. Rather, his therapist had been right to say that getting out of the house and expanding his ‘library of positive experiences’ was much better for his health than isolating himself at home, rotting under the grimey weight of his paranoid assumptions and suspicions.

  “You got a piece of cake, right?” Nels fished for an excuse to keep Raf around. 

  “Nah, Margie scarfed down enough for both of us.”

  Reeling back with a dissatisfied but good humoured growl, Nels insisted, “Oh, you gotta try this one. The icing is–”

  “Too sweet,” Raf cut in with a defusing laugh. “I had a bite. It’s good, but a taste was plenty.” 

  “It’s already midnight,” Margie’s voice interjected, “If Raf had it his way, he’d have been in bed an hour ago. Cake ain’t gonna fix that.” 

  “Bah!” Nels waved them both off, defeated. “Fine, go. Get out of my building, you kids don’t know how to have fun anymore.” 

  “Fun? In this economy?” Margie clutched imaginary pearls before her expression of mock dismay dissolved into a grin and she opened her arms for a parting hug.

  Nels swooped down to envelop her, and for a moment his broad body fully eclipsed her from Raf’s view. “Drive safe, be good. See you on Monday.” He pulled away from Margie, turning his gaze to make sure the sentiment landed with Raf as well.

  Raf provided a lopsided smirk and a gesture that was something between a wave and a salute. A chorus of goodbyes followed him and Margie out the front doors of Hi-Note studio, and Margie waved back over Raf’s shoulder until the doors closed behind them.

  “I like them,” she said with a happy sigh.

  “Yeah.” Raf led the way to his little, dark blue sedan parked against the street curb and watched her shuffle gleefully towards the passenger side. “They like you, too.”

  Hard not to.

  He got into the car and turned on the engine.

–

  The ride home was tricky for Magritte as she tried hard to temper her expectations. Raf was a skittish person by nature, and she had to be very careful about not overwhelming him or applying too much pressure with her eager enthusiasm. Any time he felt like he had put himself into a corner by overpromising or obligating himself too irrevocably to something, his instinct was to escape it–no matter what ‘it’ was. But there was nothing irrevocable nor obligatory about her offer to sleep with him tonight. Not ‘sleep’ in the literal sense of the word, for once. No, if he let her, she was going to suck his spirit out through his dick and fuck him into the ground. Good god, she had been wanting this for months.

  But Raf, being Raf, was liable to change his mind at the very last minute. And if he did, she wasn’t going to take it personally. She wasn’t. Nor would she be upset, nor disappointed, nor in any way disparaging about it. The most she could do was make sure not to push the topic too eagerly on the way home, and to avoid offering up any obstacles that might serve to dissuade him. 

  …Which made it very difficult for her to bring up one particular topic of concern before they had passed by the last 7/11 and it was too late.

  “I guess, um…Should we pick up condoms? I can run in and get them.”

  She held her breath as she watched him consider the question for a moment.

   Funnily enough, it wasn’t a matter of protecting against diseases. They both had a clean bill of health, and came to know that about each other when she experienced a rare episode of anxiety regarding the last guy she had stayed with. In her weird panic, she greatly overshared a plethora of details to Raf. He had been remarkably cool about it, and walked her through the entire process of getting tested–something he was no recent stranger to.

  Rather, she didn’t want to tempt fate on getting knocked-up; not when life was just starting to become enjoyable again. The idea of pregnancy was a lovecraftian horror to her, and the stress of dealing with something like that to any extent just wasn’t worth the gamble. She was on the pill, yes…but even that wasn’t guaranteed protection. And, with how often she forgot to take it, she wasn’t sure it protected her at all. 

  “I mean…” Raf began, hesitantly.

  Magritte spared him the trouble. “Or not, if it’s a pain in the ass.” She shrugged with a disarming little laugh. “It’s a bit out of the–”

  Raf cut her off. “No, it’s fine, we absolutely can. It’s just that I’m–” Without taking his eyes off the road he produced a scissor-snipping motion with his fingers.

  Margie stared for a bewildered moment before her brain picked it up. “Wait, what? Really? Why?” She had leaned towards him with that last question before realising it was probably a shitty thing to ask.

  But, if it bothered Raf, he showed no sign of it. “I don’t want kids, and I had…an unpredictable ex.” 

  “Oh!” Margie had the good sense not to press him further, and leaned back into her seat. She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Well, lucky me.”

  She delighted in the humoured snort she coaxed from him. His easy smile and relaxed posture assured her that he wasn’t grappling with any second thoughts.

  That won a sidelong glance from him. “So..?”

  “Straight home, garçon!” She chopped one hand into the palm of the other with mock urgency. “The minutes are precious!”

  And indeed, though he had kept his hands to himself for much of the ride home, and in the elevator up to his apartment, Magritte found herself pressed between his body and the door to his flat as he warmed her with a voraciously weighty kiss. She received it gratefully. The heat of him, the molten softness of his lips, the scruffy, tickling hairs of his chin–

  She hadn’t realised that his free hand–the one not curled amorously around her body–had been busy unlocking the door. She’d have staggered backwards when it opened, had Raf not preemptively braced her with the arm that held her.

  He broke the kiss in order to assure that their half-stumble into the apartment didn’t devolve into a full stumble. But still, he kept a steadying arm around her, and she rewarded the preservation of closeness by pressing a string of kisses down his neck and towards his collarbone. Her hands had found their way beneath both his jacket and t-shirt, the flesh of his torso hot against her forearms and fingertips.

  She heard the door close shut behind them, and the familiar sound of the keys dropping onto the counter before the hand that had been holding them cupped the side of her head. She felt his lips press against the opposite temple.

  She had been able to kick off her shabby, loose-fitting boots without pause, but she reluctantly peeled herself away from Raf in case he wanted to take his sneakers off with a little more care. And, perhaps…to give him some space to think. Taking the opportunity to remove her jacket, she chucked it haphazardly across the couch.

  Raf was measuring her with a gaze when she turned back towards him.

  “Second thoughts?” Her smirk carried a cheeky confidence that worked hard to cover the self-conscious tone in her voice. 

  “No.” His bewildered inflection and raised eyebrows explained plenty; he had expected to turn against the idea by now.

  “It’s a bit impulsive,” Magritte conceded.

  Raf provided a slow nod, “It is…”

  “I’d really like it, though.”

  “I want you to.” He seemed to chew on that for a moment, as though it had answered something for him.

  There was an awkward standoff while neither of them moved, and in that brief moment, Magritte deeply regretted putting the space between them. Finally, Raf approached her and placed a kiss onto her forehead while his hands gently teased the elastic tie out of her nest of auburn curls. She wrapped her palms around the back of his neck as she felt her hair fall loose from the messy bun it had been wrangled into.

  “Promise me this won’t fuck anything up.” His voice was low and quiet in her ear. The pleading tone was only amplified by the lingering manner in which his cheek rested against the side of her head. His warm breath against her slightly chilled skin inspired goosebumps.

  She pulled back to look him squarely in the eyes. This was far from being her first tryst with a friend, and she knew herself well in this regard. “I promise it won’t! Not for me, but…” She offered an apologetic half-smile. “I can’t promise it won’t change things for you; I don’t control how you react. So, really. Really, really, really–if you’re not sure, then I’d rather…not. I like things the way they are. I like doing things with you. To me, this is just another thing I like doing that I think would be really fun to do with you. Not at the expense of anything else, though.”

  He searched her features with a scrutinising stare, and she didn’t shy away from it.

  “Nothing changes,” He asserted, “we’re just friends.”

  “Good friends,” she offered back with an impudent grin.

  He mirrored her expression with a scoff and a lopsided smirk of his own. “The friendsiest friends.”

  “But, friends just the same.”

 Her conviction was rewarded with another kiss, his lips melting against hers as she felt the tension in his muscles evaporate through a sigh. Her hands glided up his arms, over his shoulders, and around to the back of his neck. As she gently combed her fingernails through his hair, she remembered that delightful little noise she had coaxed out of him on the balcony. What had done it? Was it the kiss? Or…

  Her fingers traced the contours of his scalp and, as she curled them towards her palm, they lightly caressed the back of his ears. Her thumbs smoothed over the muscles of his jaw, but before she completed the gesture, he broke away from her.

“Alright, friend.” He curled his upper lip to flash teeth at her in a playful snarl. “Get your lily white ass into the bedroom before the last brain cell navigating my good manners is starved of oxygen.” He turned her toward the hall, and a pat of his hand against her butt provided her with all the motivation she needed to oblige his request. 

  She whisked herself down the hall into his room, and left the door just slightly ajar for him. She knew he wasn’t going to follow her right away. He had his evening habits to tend to; checking the door, setting the thermostat, turning out the lights, and taking his meds with a tall glass of water. It would have been silly of her to think that the promise of tits and ass would throw him off routine.

  Magritte took the opportunity to shed her clothes, throwing off her shirt and wiggling out of her tight tank top–a personal compromise for her disdain for bras. She shimmied out of her denim shorts and leggings both in the same gesture. Her underwear, though, was of a cute, boyish design and she decided she’d give Raf the satisfaction of peeling them off her, if he so wished to.

  Wait, just the underwear? Is that weird? She considered putting the tank top back on, and failed to gather the motivation for it. And so, she settled upon a better idea. Grabbing one of his t-shirts out of the second drawer of his dresser, she pulled it on, over her head. Hell yeah, guys love this shit.

  No sooner had she put on his shirt than he walked in to see her wearing it. She turned to him with a sheepish grin, tugging the bottom hem over her thighs. 

  Taking a sip from the glass of water in his hand, Raf clocked the shirt and favoured her with a humoured hum. “Comfy?”

  She provided a coy nod, and, before she could do much else, he abandoned his glass on the top of the dresser to close the distance between them. His arms caught her up into more of a ‘scrunch’ than a proper hug, and he came down on her with a frustrated growl, burying his entire face into the side of her neck with the sound of exaggerated chomping. The combination of lightly grazing teeth and his rough chin against her skin elicited a startled yelp from her before sending her into a fit of uncontrolled giggles as she was effortlessly bowled over onto the bed.

  “I changed my mind.” He snarled, “I’m gonna eat you, instead. Hungry, horny, it’s all the same.”

  “It’s not, though!” Her words were barely intelligible, warbling with laughter. 

  As she struggled in vain to wedge a hand between the soft flesh of her throat and his coarse goatee, his mock gnashing softened into playful kisses. Regaining her composure and chasing away her giggles by clearing her throat, she snaked her hands beneath his shirt.

  “I’m worth more to you undevoured, I promise.”

  “Remains to be seen,” Raf muttered into the hollow beneath her ear.

  “Well…let's see.”

  Her thumbs smoothed over the trail of body hair from belt line to belly button, before her palms passed broadly over the front of his stomach, around his sides, and up his back. Digging her fingers into his shoulder blades, she tilted her chin back and drew in a long breath as his lips travelled down her neck, towards her collar bone.

  Distracted by the pleasant textures of his mouth, Magritte’s attention hadn’t followed his travelling hands–until she felt the heel of his palm press broadly against her clit through the fabric of her underwear. Instinctively, her thighs tightened around him, and her hands abandoned their near-completed task of unbuttoning his jeans; grasping the waistline instead. She coiled into his touch as his palm lifted away to drag his fingertips lightly up, towards the top hem of her panties. From there, they slipped easily under the close-hugging fabric to sink into the warm folds between her legs.

  Raf’s firm, steadying grasp around her ribcage slid up to appreciate the soft, pliable curves  of her breasts hidden beneath the fabric of her shirt. His fingers teased the hardened nipples while she manoeuvred her lower body beneath him. She freed her legs out from under his lap so that her thighs hugged around his hips and, in swift order, she ghosted her hands down to find his belt. As she worked to unbuckle it, his mouth caught hers. His tongue teased her lips apart and she welcomed it with her own.

  His kisses had a soft, buttery quality reminiscent of a girl she once loved, and it was a feeling she treasured. His lips, smooth and warm, melted against the tense contours of hers in a sensasion she could only describe as ‘creamy and comforting’.

  She felt his fingers tease her apart, and they traced the contours of her sex with gentle confidence, exploring her geography. Though his mouth worked fervently against her lips, throat, and collar bone, his touch between her legs was restrained and methodical. She had expected him to plunge knuckle deep into the first hole he found–as men in her experience were typically inclined to. But his fingers only teased her entrance before gliding back up her moistened crease to find–

  “Oh-!” Margie flinched as a shock jolted her body. Not painfully, but in a manner comparable to having an icecube suddenly pressed against her, unexpected.

  Raf stilled the moment she had tensed.

  “Sensitive.” His observation was murmured into the crook of her neck before he purred more audibly into her ear, “Sorry, love.”

  She paused. His fingers had begun to work firm, broad circles around her clit in a way that, at first, didn’t feel like it was doing anything special for her. But quickly, she felt a building pressure begin to heat her core.

  Sensitive?

  She wasn’t, though. In the past, complaints had been made that she took too long to get off. Her previous fling had joked that only a jackhammer could provide the adequate stimulation she needed. When it came to sex, she knew herself as a veritable puzzle box of distractibility and dulled senses. It meant excellent stamina and fun sensations, but a proper orgasm delivered in a timely manner required her own effort more than the effort of her partner.

  “No, no,” she began placatingly, “you didn’t–”

  That same heat rose up to prickle her chest and cheeks. Margie pressed her mouth against the top of his shoulder to muffle a reverent, “Motherfucker.” 

  That was not the appropriate choice of words to praise him with, but that’s what forced its way out of her throat. He had found that sweet spot almost as easily as she might have found it herself, which led her to the realisation that she had been robbed–robbed–by previous lovers. What the everloving fuck.

  She couldn’t help but let out a confounded little chuckle into the fabric of his shirt, and he responded with an amused little “Mmh.”

  Without even meaning to, she had tensed her grip around him. Her arms held him tight, with handfuls of his shirt balled into her fists. Her legs had constricted around his waist and the leverage they provided allowed for the needy manner in which her hips writhed to meet his firm and steady touch. It was a greedy moment while she abandoned her attempts at reciprocation, intent on appreciating the way Raf kneaded her between his fingers. Her long drawn sighs of pleasure slowly devolved into a breathy panting–which fell into near perfect synchrony with his purposeful, hastening strokes between her thighs. 

  If she had been paying attention to her breathing, if she had noticed when her voice began releasing a single, ragged note every few breaths, she might have asked for pause. But, she hadn’t been paying attention to anything other than the growing warmth between her legs and the tense swell of pressure gathering in the very pit of her stomach. And it grew, hotter and hotter, with each purposeful, dexterous stroke of his fingers. Oh–she was sensitive, now. Between her thighs, she could feel every small vibration that met her. The way his fingers worked pleased not just her clit, but the rest of her aroused sex as well. Every small movement he pressed into her, she felt across the entire organ. Her thighs closed around his waist as she lifted her hips to find her pleasure against his fingertips. She felt the muscles of her stomach draw tight.

  A sharp gasp preceded a short, trembling “Ah-!” that escaped with her breath. All that tension, that gathering pressure, broke like a wave through her body. It had built up so quickly that the orgasm took her by complete surprise, and she writhed against Raf’s fingers as she rode it out; her face buried into the crook of his neck, eyes shut tightly.

  She didn’t relax her body nor lift her head as the ripples of pleasure subsided, but she felt Raf’s fingers withdraw from her.

  “Hey.” Raf’s voice crooned in her ear, and his hands on her waist pressed her lightly back, coaxing her to release him from the death-grip she held him in.

  Reluctantly, she unfurled from him, uncoiling her arms, and dropping her knees to hang off his outer thighs. The rough texture of denim against  the back of her calves reminded her that he still had his pants on. She came, and he was still wearing pants.

  She hazarded a sheepish glance up towards his face, and was met with a modestly small smile, made very smug by the upward arch of his eyebrows.

  “That’s what you get for the balcony boner, you little shit.” 

  Raf lifted himself off her, but she grabbed the front of his shirt with flustered defiance. “We’re not done!”

  “You sure?” His incredulity wasn’t the least bit sincere. “Because it seemed to me like you–”

  “No!” She scrambled to sit on her knees atop his bed and jabbed a demanding finger towards his waist. “Take your pants off!”

  He hesitated, and for a moment, Margie genuinely worried he’d say ‘nah’. But instead, he leaned in for another kiss and obliged her command. The sound of his belt clattering outcompeted the sultry feeling of his lips for her attention, and her eager gaze turned automatically to assess what she was working with. 

  She had expected to see an aching erection. Usually, by the time the pants came off, guys had been hard as hell and ready to go. Instead, the man who had just rubbed the easiest orgasm she’d ever experienced out of her appeared lightly fluffed at most. For a brief second, she wondered if her playful brattiness had ruined the mood. And then, she considered…that possibly…she just wasn’t attractive to him. 

  She returned her attention to their kiss as she chewed on that thought a bit. As far as girls went, she was a bit of a gremlin. A goblin, even. She wouldn’t dare call herself a ‘woman’ nor even a ‘lady’--those words gave her gender expression far too much credit. But even so, she was mostly comfortable with her appearance. Regardless of that, sloppy tomboys weren’t everyone’s preferred cup of tea, and it didn’t have to be. She had slept with people she didn’t personally find attractive before and it had been fine and dandy, all things considered.

  You can be ugly and still give killer blowjobs. 

  She smirked to herself, and, as she combed fingers through Raf’s hair with one hand, she allowed the other to travel down his torso until her palm curled around the soft, warm skin of his shaft. Her fingertips coiled along the underside of it, tracing a firm, straight line towards the base of the glans, and she massaged the head against the ball of her thumb with gentle, coaxing strokes. 

  His body responded to her touch; the malleable flesh stiffened in her grasp and filled her hand substantially. In return, her caresses grew more broad and firm; the heel of her palm only abandoning the sensitive tip for the brief intervals when her fingers endeavoured to tease and cradle his sack. 

  She felt Raf’s fingertips trace lightly up her spine, beneath her shirt, in a manner that provoked goosebumps. Once they found the loose curls of her hair, they followed her locks up to the nape of her neck, and brushed passionately over the base of her scalp. He hadn’t pulled his lips away from her, except to nip lightly at her jaw and ear.

  A small “Hmm” escaped him, sounding more contemplative than pleased, and it prompted her to pull her gaze back and assess his features. He only mirrored her measuring glance before bestowing a sweet little kiss on her nose.

  "We good?" She asked as cooly as she could manage.

  "Yeah?" His response warbled on a laugh, and it coaxed a reassured smile out of her. "I'd say so."

  “...Gave you another boner."

  "Oh." He glanced down and said with a sardonic tone, "Shit, thanks for telling me. I'd have never known."

  By the time his gaze returned to her, Margie met it with a stony, straight face.

 His amused expression wavered. "...What?"

Holding his gaze, she pressed down on his erection with a forefinger before turning her eyes to watch it as she let it spring upward in a marvellously undignified display of structural tension. The juvenile mistreatment of his manhood left Raf at a temporary loss for words and Magritte stifled her laugh into a snort. Before he could chide her, she shoved both hands beneath his shirt and lifted it, intent on freeing him of the garment completely. With a muffled exclamation, he complied, lifting his arms and finishing the job of pulling it off, over his head. 

Taking the opportunity to plant kisses across his chest and down his torso, Margie didn’t glance up to see his expression as her mouth dragged hungrily past his belly button and over the strip of body hair that led her down, towards the prize waiting for her between his legs. She rested her cheek against him, atop the unruly patch of honey coloured pubes that crowned his crotch, and closed her hand around the length of him. She was hopeless at measuring the size of anything with just a gaze, but he filled her grasp with a satisfying heft and was certainly longer than her hand. Favouring him with a well-appraising hum and a few loving strokes, she lifted her head to face her challenge. She peeled back the foreskin with a tender downstroke, before kissing the sensitive pink tip. 

  The scent of him was far from unpleasant; a heady musk that excited her senses goaded her to take him into her mouth. Slick moisture met her lips when they pressed against his flesh, and, when they parted to draw him in, her tongue was quick to receive him. She held the head of his cock in her mouth as her tongue swirled and lapped hungrily over its smooth contours. He provided texture more than taste; his scent informed the flavour perhaps more than anything else. Inside her mouth, he was velvety, warm, and gratifying to explore. She pulled her lips back over the gentle curves until they came together to kiss the tip again. Her tongue flicked out to lap the head’s underside before the rest of her mouth followed, and she drew him in deeper than before.

  She repeated that course, cherishing every bit of him with her tongue before pulling back to kiss the tip, and then drawing him into her mouth deeper with each successive round. Her thumbs had run up his inner thighs until they found the silky skin of his sack. She held and massaged it gently, appreciating the supple texture beneath her fingertips.

  Initially, Raf’s fingers had teased and entwined themselves in her nest of curls somewhat languidly. But slowly, his hands grew tense against the back of her head, occasionally clenching into fists around handfuls of her hair. She thought–and hoped–that he’d start pulling, but any time he came close to doing so, he quickly released his grip. She could have lamented that, but she appreciated the same restraint applied to the motions of his hips. As a precaution, Margie placed a steading hand around one side of his waist, but she knew from experience that this was poor defence against an overeager thrust. Under her palm, she could feel his muscles tense and flinch. That, coupled with the slight, uneven rolling of his hips, betrayed his urge to buck against her mouth. For his considerate efforts, she rewarded him by trying to decipher and match the pace that his rigidly subdued movements suggested to her. 

  “...Christ.” His breaths had been coming up deep and steady and the muttered profanity was barely audible to Magritte, but she caught it with a thrill.

  In response, she closed her eyes and pulled him into her throat so that her lips were flush against the hot skin of his lower abdomen. Her throat constricted uncomfortably around the intrusion that had smoothed over her tonsils, and she pulled back before it forced her to gag. Taking a deep, steadying breath through her nose, she allowed herself a precious second before swallowing him again. Her throat was no happier for it, but making a man's dick disappear was her favourite little party trick. Raf’s fingers brushed over her jaw in a gesture that permitted her to release him, but she ignored it in favour of challenging her gag reflex a third time.

  “Margie–!” He cupped her face more firmly, and this time, she obeyed what was clearly a request, not a suggestion.

  She pulled back, hollowing out her cheeks so that he left her mouth with an audible *pop*, and turned a sheepish smile up to him. 

  He met her gaze with a mix of awe and incredulity.“Holy shit, warn me next time.” 

  Providing him with an unrepentant shrug, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Too much?"

  “I mean, not if you’re trying to get this done and over with real quick.”

  To that, Magritte flashed her teeth in an impish grin. “Finish him!”

  Her poor yet unmistakable Mortal Kombat impression caused Raf’s brow to crease quizzically before a bark of laughter escaped him. “No, why are you like this?”

  He flattened his palm against her face, and she let out an ineffective chihuahua-like snarl as he irreverently pushed her backwards so that she laid flat on her bed. She landed with a fit of giggles, and she felt his thumbs hook into the waistband of her panties. He slid them down past her knees and Magritte was able to wriggle the garment down, off her ankles. Kneeling between her legs, Raf grabbed her by the waist and playfully dragged her towards him so that her hips met his.

  As he descended upon her with a flurry of kisses, she felt his erection lay flat across her stomach–the slick coat of moisture it wore from her mouth cooled on her skin. She couldn’t help but writhe eagerly beneath him; one hand in his hair while the other grasped and clawed needily along his lower back. His hands worked much more purposefully. One arm coiled around her shoulders to brace the both of them as the other snaked down her belly, fingertips finding the warm, damp flesh between her legs. He teased apart her lower lips, pressing a firm thumb just above her clit and massaging it gently. His middle and ring fingers skated easily downward to find her opening; tender and wet with her arousal. He pressed a careful finger into her and, when it sunk in with ease, he inserted another. With gentle strokes and twists, he acquainted himself with her; winning pleased hums and a determined roll of her hips as he felt the boundaries of her interior. His breath came up in heavy sighs as he kissed, bit, and sucked the flesh of her neck. She was aware, too, of how his hips rolled against hers with a neediness that mirrored her own. 

  His fingers withdrew from her and, for a moment, so too did his lower body. With keen anticipation, Margie wrapped her legs firmly around him for leverage, sinking her heels into the back of his calves as she lifted her hips up to receive him. He didn’t leave her waiting. She felt his cock press against and part her flesh to make space for itself. Swollen with arousal, her body provided pleasant resistance before surrendering to envelop him. He sank into her with gratifying ease; fitting comfortably between her legs. A delighted gasp escaped her when he drew his hips flush to hers, eliciting a ripple of pleasure that radiated out from her inner flesh, down into her toes. Her muscles clenched around him instinctively, and her knees lifted to hold him as closely to her as possible.

  At the sound of her breathy little mewl, a chuckle rose from Raf’s throat followed by another one of his contemplative hums. This time, though, an unmistakable satisfaction boiled in the low rumble of his tone.

  In Margie’s opinion, this was one of the best parts of sex; the initial feeling of having that aching, hungry gap between her thighs filled the warm, hefty girth of her lover. But there was something uniquely gratifying about hosting Raf in this manner, and the reason wasn’t a mystery to her. Without question, he was the most good looking man to ever find himself between her legs. From the first day she met him in Granville Station, she had been charmed by his lopsided smirk, dorky goatee, and aloof demeanour. His torn jeans and goofy dollar store sunglasses hadn’t been able to outcompete the easy charisma and gentle kindness he carried with him. He had a handsome face, a nice body that he took care of, and a mindful confidence that belied the tumultuous anxieties that plagued him. As she had gotten to know him better, she only adored him more.

  ‘Adored’. Hah, who am I kidding.

  She loved him, no revelation there. He didn’t have to rub an orgasm out of her and stick his dick in for her to realise that. She loved easily, and recklessly, and had known she was pooched after their very first jam session. He had been fun to play with, gave her kind praise and honest feedback, and made her feel like he genuinely enjoyed spending time with her. That and a pretty face was really all it took to win her loyal affections.

  But he was a skittish creature, and she loved him enough to find joy in whatever form their relationship took. Otherwise, she’d have overcrowded and overwhelmed him, and he–like all the others before him–would have grown to resent everything he initially claimed to like about her. She likened herself to salt; best enjoyed sparingly, and never on its own. It’s why she had been so reluctant to move in with him, despite wanting to spend every minute of her time with him. Too much salt. She feared becoming unpalatable. 

  Well, now he’s balls deep in me, purring comfortably in my ear–which means I’ve got no choice but to make him cum so hard, he sees stars.

  She had tried to moderate her behaviour and failed. She failed the very moment she accepted the keys to his apartment. She failed when he sweetly offered to let her snuggle him in bed so that he could help warm her feet. There had been mornings when she woke up to the maddening feeling of his stiffness pressed against the small of her back. She had remained very still and very quiet so as to not let him know that she had been awake before him, but good lord every muscle in her body had wanted to squirm against him. Without fail, the very moment he woke up, he’d carefully–very carefully–untangle his limbs from hers and turn away before getting out of bed to start his day. And without fail, she’d spend the consiquent morning too cumbrained to even see straight. 

  Just like she couldn’t say no to an apartment key and nightly snuggles, she couldn’t say no to a kiss. She couldn’t help but push it to see where it’d go. And now she was here. Remarkably. Unregrettably.

  ‘I couldn’t help myself,’ said the scorpion, ‘it’s in my nature.’

  A bit too late, Margie realised that Raf’s satisfied rumblings in her ear had been forming actual vowels and consonants.

  “Hm-?” She returned to the present moment with a flinch she hoped he didn’t notice.

  “I like your little noises,” he replied.

  “Oh.” Magritte blinked, running fingers through his hair. She used the back of her heel to caress the curve of his butt with irreverent affection. “Well then, giddy up, Mister Ephrem, and I’ll give you a cacophony!”

  She felt him grin against her jawline before grazing it with his teeth and providing an affirmative little growl. 

  His hips withdrew, only to rock forward into her again. His first few strokes were of a careful, measuring pace until he repositioned his knees further apart and closer to her body. Dropping his forehead down onto the mattress, over her shoulder, he grabbed her waist with two firm hands and pulled her up closer to him. He curled his torso to plunge into her more deeply. The angle of his cock struck a pleasing cluster of nerves inside her body, and she inhaled sharply as it retreated over her swollen flesh to slam back in against it in steady rhythm. Each time, his dick slid out of her until she was empty save for the stretch where they met; the lips of her cunt covetously hugging the contours of the cock’s head. And then he’d part her walls again with a forceful, hungry thrust; smoothing the mounds of velvety muscle that constricted around him and resisted his departing strokes.

  Every few thrusts forced a note of pleasure out of Magritte’s throat, carried on ragged huffs of breath. At first, her punctuated little cries only had to compete against the sound of Raf’s deep, steady breathing and the faint creaking of his bed. But, as her thighs became sticky and sodden from her arousal, the percussive sound of flesh on flesh began to drown out her little moans. Like the true musician he was, Raf searched for the right fingering to coax the sound he wanted out of her. His thumb pressed against the flesh right above her clit and rubbed it in quick, small circles as he continued to drive his cock into her. 

  The feeling of being kneaded firmly between his fingers and his dick provoked a strangled cry that bubbled out of her mouth before she even registered it. A sharp, quavering breath preceded another ecstatic wail, and then another. She curled her arms tightly around the back of Raf’s neck and attempted to muffle the chorus of her euphoria against his shoulder.

  The mounting tension caused her muscles to clench. The way his dick pushed against the walls of her cunt as it constricted around him only intensified the pressure that welled up inside her.

  “Oh, fuck. Fuck.” They were barely words, carrying the same quaking tone as her blissed-out yowls. 

  In response, Raf reached up to roughly smooth her hair back and cradle her head. He buried his nose into her hair, and pressed clenched teeth against her temple in a gesture that might have initially been intended as a kiss. His thrusts had grown desperate and uneven, but the hand that worked her clit remained fastidious in its efforts, bringing her so, so, so achingly close.

  “Good girl.” His voice was a breathy growl against her skull. “Come on, now…”

  Her legs had been wrapped around him so tightly that her muscles ached. But it provided the leverage she needed to buck against him with fervent need. He drove into her with short, rapid thrusts, barely withdrawing to slam as deeply into her as their bodies would permit; hitting up against her tightening core–until the dam of pressure burst to release a flood of sensation across every part of her. In the seconds leading up to it, Margie had fallen completely silent, drawing in a long breath that she held in her chest until the crashing wave of her orgasm forced it out of her. She felt the pulses of pleasure throb in her lower abdomen, caressing the man inside of her in a way that she never consciously could.

  At some point during her climax, Raf’s hands had both found her waist again, gripping her rapaciously as he chased his own pleasure. His breaths came up in short, uneven bursts, and the undeliberate groans being drawn out of him composed the greatest piece of music she had ever delighted in hearing.

  She writhed her hips to meet him at every feverish thrust. Slowing to longer, powerful strokes, he slammed into her once, twice, and with a quiet growl, he buried himself as deeply as their bodies would allow. His strong grip pressed her hard against him, holding her firmly in place as the force of his orgasm punched the breath out of his lungs. As he came inside of her, his hips strained against her body with the feral desire to empty himself deeper.

  This, too, was one of the best parts of sex, Margie decided. She’d never gone about it without a condom before, and while the thrill was almost certainly a psychological one, the verdict was in; she very enjoyed the feeling of having her insides painted lovingly white. She liked it a lot. With the covetous squeezing of her thighs and abdominal muscles, she made it known to him.

  The two of them remained locked together in a hot, messy, panting heap on the bed for an immeasurable moment before Raf nuzzled his face into the crook of Margie’s neck with a long, bodily sigh. She drew a hand up to affectionately caress his neck and the back of his head.

  “W...we good?” Her voice came up raspy, cracking on the second word, and she couldn’t help but exhale a little laugh at herself.

  “Mmh,” was the most Raf could conjure for a long while before he muttered semi-intelligible, “Magnifique.” He echoed her laugh with one of his own before bringing his arms forward to prop himself up, off of her. 

  As she allowed him to decouple from her, she curled her hands under her chin, reluctant to sit up with him…for reasons relating to gravity and fluids. 

  Sitting on his knees with her legs across his lap, Raf provided a mollifying grin that favoured one side of his face. “I, uh–shit.” He dropped his face into one of his palms with a self-deprecating laugh. “Ejected some of my brain cells there, I think.”

  “A shower might help with that,” Margie offered with a broad smile that flashed her teeth. “I’ll take one with you.” 

–

  It had been as though they spent the evening doing any other typical thing. It could have been a night of board games, for how casually Magritte navigated the aftermath of their activities. Raf had expected some manner of uncomfortable, condolatory discussion that went long into the early hours of morning; how they had liked it, whether or not they’d do it again, what it meant for their relationship, if it meant anything at all. But that conversation never occurred.

  Margie had made her enjoyment known while she shared a shower with him, and bestowed easy praise on his ‘excellent fingering’. In turn, he confessed that he could grow quickly addicted to the adorable little trills, yelps, and moans he had been able to coax out of her. Not to mention the other things she could do with her mouth. Dieu, mon fucking dieu. 

  The rest was clear enough to be obvious without discussion. Sex could just be another thing they did together when the mood struck–if it stuck at all. It hadn’t come with any promises or expectations, not any more than playing music or snuggles in bed had. It was the best Raf could have hoped for.

   Magritte seemed wholly uninterested in applying the pressures of romantic commitment onto him. If there was ever anything she wanted, she could never help but to edge it into conversations one way or another–he knew that much about her. Instead, she seemed entirely set on making sure she didn’t bring up anything even approaching the matter. She said she liked things the way they were, and, while his brain could question the truth in that–or in anything she said–he was of much the same opinion. Perhaps they had both come to the same understanding. Something about love, especially romantic love, brought out the worst in people. It had always seemed like a battle of wills; two people trying to deconstruct and reshape one another to fit the impossible moulds that would ensure the longevity of their relationship. How could anyone endure that kind of transformation without poisoning the relationship with resentment? He’d never know. He didn’t have to find out.

  Laying in bed at three in the morning, showered, satisfied, and cosy, with Magritte purring tiny snores in his arms, he couldn’t have asked for more. Whatever it was that he and Margie were enjoying together–friends with benefits?–suited him, so far. For all it mattered, she could decide to move across the sea next week, and he’d be unharmed by the decision so long as they remained on friendly terms. And that felt safe.

   What they had…it felt safe.

[mustainegf]

→ Masterpost

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟓

It was around 5 in the morning, and I was a complete wreck. I had spent the previous few hours shivering and sleepless, images of James speeding through my head. I saw every single time I tried to close my eyes, him lying all alone and in so much pain on that hospital bed. On top of this, this baby seemed to do everything in its power to force me to stay awake. I fought an urge to vomit, a wave of nausea hit me that wouldn't quit.

I had barely gotten into bed for what I was betting would be a minute or two of rest when the phone rang. My heart jumped up out of my throat, and, like a sprung coiled, I burst out of bed and race-walked into the kitchen to answer it. Let it be good news, please let it be good news, I thought.

"Hello?" I answered, voice trembling.

"Hey…" It was a hoarse and groggy voice, but unmistakably James. My James.

"James!" I cried out, relief spilling over me. "Oh my God, are you okay? How are you?"

He spoke soothingly, even though I knew he had to be in so much pain, "Calm down. I'll be all right. I got caught under a huge flame onstage. I have second and third degree burns on my arms, hand, and back I think..."

My eyes welled with tears, and my heart ached for him. "James, that's awful…."

"I know," he pouted in his voice. "But they're discharging me today. I guess that's a good sign then."

"Discharging you?" I repeated, voice laced with incredulity. "James, you need to come here. Stay with me so I can take care of you. You can't just go back on tour, I won’t let you."

"Look-" he began but I cut him off.

"No, James. You have to listen to me. You've been overworking yourself, and you need your rest. And I want you away from that world. At least for a little bit. Besides, we have a lot to deal with anyway. If you want to be a father, you’re gonna do it sober."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. I could hear him breathing, almost feel his internal struggle.

“I have to get back out on tour," he finally said, his voice tight. "The band, the fans-."

I gripped the phone tighter, my determination hardening inside of me. "James Hetfield, you listen to me, you are coming here.” I insist. “And don't you argue with me. This isn't about you, not even about the band. It's about our baby. You need to be here."

Another silence, then a heavy sigh. "Alright," he said, sounding resigned. "I'll book the next flight back. But I'm doing this for you and the baby. The guys won't be happy."

"I don't care about the band right now," I said, my voice gentle now. "I care about you. The rest, we’ll sort it out."

"Yeah…" he said, and I could almost hear the apprehension in his voice. "I’ll see you soon."

"Thank you, James," I said, my heart full of love. "I'll be waiting for you."

Afterwe hung up the phone, I stood there for a second before turning my phone off, still in my hand. The tiredness was still there.

I spent the rest of the early hours preparing for his arrival. I wanted everything to be perfect so he would have everything he needed to recover. I had the couch all nicely prepared with a fresh blanket, extra pillow, and every other type of supply that I could imagine he could use: bandages, painkillers.

Though I was so incredibly tired, I bustled from one thing to the next. This was my contribution, my way of showing him he wasn't alone. My exhaustion that had been present all night began morphing into this deep, tired comfort.

Making my way across into the bedroom, every step a little lighter, I lay down. The mattress was soft, and the sheets were cool. I turned onto my back and laid one hand over my belly. I did this a lot now, it made me feel less alone.

"We're going to be okay," I whispered back to myself, closing my eyes. "Daddy's coming home. He's going to be all right."

I smiled, a few tears sliding out of the corners of my eyes, not of sadness, but of a strange and bittersweet joy. I ran my hand slowly across my tummy in reassuring circles.

"You're so loved, little one," I murmured. "I can't wait to meet you. I’m gonna take care of you, protect you, and give you everything in the world."

As I kept on whispering to my baby, the exhaustion finally crashed down on me. Heavy eyelids began to draw themselves down, and my eyes fluttered over. "You're my little miracle," I whispered, barely above a whisper. “Hopefully you’ll be James’ as well…”

The last thing that registered was a gentle kick from the baby, reminding me that there was life growing inside of me. My lips held a smile as I went to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Images filled my dreams of our family whole and happy, an image I knew deep down, would not come to fruition. No matter how hard I wished or dreamed, I wasn’t quite sure if I could pull James out of whatever he was in. I didn’t know how to bring back my Jamie.

When I woke up, I felt a feeling of calm I hadn't felt in a long time. I slowly opened my eyes, the remainder of sleep still clutched to me. As my vision cleared, I was met with a sight that made my heart jump a beat. Crouched at my bedside, gazing at me lovingly with a gentle smile, was James.

"James?" I asked softly, still half in a dream. I wearily pushed myself up, wanting to hug him, to reassure myself that he was really there.

"Be gentle," he said, wincing slightly as he moved to accommodate my hug. The bandages on his arm and the stiffness in his movements breaking my heart a little.

I slipped my arms cautiously around him; his body was warm, his breathing calm and regular. "You really came," I whispered, my voice full of emotion.

"I'm here," he said softly back, holding me.

As much as I desired to kiss him, to tell him to come back to me fully, I knew I couldn't. The past pain still lingered, and I had to remind myself of the reasons we parted ways. But his being here and seeing him safe was enough for now.

He drew back a little and gazed downwards in wonder. He watched as he gently swept the thin blanket aside. "Look at you." he awed.

Down I looked too and placed my hand on my belly, feeling the life inside me. "Our baby," I said softly.

James gazed nervously at my baby bump before I finally nodded and let him place his hand just under my belly. His gentle grasp was splayed against my stomach, feeling our baby for the first time. "Holy shit…" he whispered again, his voice full of emotion.

We just sat a little, the room filling with loving but awkward silence. The last time we had seen each other, it was the day he left. So much had happened in between. It was large, this gulf between us.

"How're you?" he asked me, peering into my eyes for any hint of distress.

"Tired," I admitted. "But seeing you helps."

He smiled then, "I'm sorry. For everything."

I shook my head, placing a hand on his cheek, feeling the hair on his face itch my hand just slightly. "We'll figure it out, James."

He nodded then, his hand still resting on my belly. "I want to be here for this kid."

"And we want you here," I whispered.

"I know," he said, his voice steady. "I'm ready to try."

James looked at me through my face with such tender concern. "You need to get some sleep," he pleaded quietly, "both you and the baby. I'll be fine."

I was dead tired, the exertion and strain of everything over the last couple of days had finally taken its evil toll. Yet, the very idea of shutting my eyes, of letting go even for the slightest of moments, was hard as well.

"Are you sure?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my eyelids already growing heavier.

He nodded, reassurance filling his eyes. "I promise, I'm sure. Just sleep. I'll be right out there."

With a tired sigh, I fell back into the mattress, the soft bedding holding me. James leaned in, his hand gently stroking my belly, and pressed a tender kiss to my stomach. "Take care of Mommy," he murmured.

With my eyes closed, I was cognizant of his hand protectively over our baby and his warmth beside me.

"I've got you both."

Right there and then, I let myself let go.

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I was able to sleep soundly.

[jrooc]

✨Oh look, its Weekly Tag Wednesday!✨

After missing a few of these in a row, I'm baaccckkk. And thanks to our wonderful host @heymacy Today, we’re getting Very Random!

Thanks for the tags my wonderful kittens @palepinkgoat @energievie @sgtmickeyslaughter @too-schoolforcool @mmmichyyy @roryonic

name: Jess Hulk Smashes

pronouns: She/Her

what year did you graduate high school? 2004 - Yupp it's that time to skip my 20 year reunion (Sighs in old)

tell me where you live without telling me where you live: Lakes, forests, bears, and Moose, Oh my! We're the land of nice people where if you run into someone they will apologize to you.

tell me what you do for work: I got hit in the tech layoffs so now I do freelance marketing for (mostly) tech companies.

caffeine source of choice: Coffee, preferably with steamed milk but the main important part is the coffee. Cold brew is also good.

do you have a skincare routine? I do but I feel like it's short at least 4 expensive products

how often do you do laundry? Every two weeks. I'm lazy.

favorite flower: Tulips maybe? Or even just when Lavendar blooms. I have some from the garden inside right now and it's lovely.

your go-to karaoke song: Wonderwall or whatever my drunk tuchas chooses cause I don't karaoke sober

what kind of phone do you have? iPhone 12 mini

do you wear contacts/glasses? This bitch too blind for glasses. Contacts all day.

what color is your hair right now? Dark brown roots with blond-ish ends? Balayage

you’ve just been handed $10,000 cash, what are you spending it on? A new laptop, a trip and some clothes.

how many pets do you have? Just the one, sick, elderly sad cat.

have you ever been on a train? I loooove trains. European ones are better then Canadian but I'll take a train anyday.

and finally, tell me something about yourself people might be surprised to know: I love healthy food but absolutely hate avocados. I want so badly to like them but they're so gross. And before you ask - yes guacamole is also vile.

Tagging or blowing a kiss to:

@blue-disco-lights @gallapiech @look-i-love-u @ifallonblackdays @michellemisfit

@deedala @such-a-barbarian @suchagallabitch @spookygingerr @spicycinnabun

@lee-ow @transsexual-dandelions @transmickey @transmurderbug @deathclassic

@solitarycreaturesthey @guinguin1984 @crestfallercanyon @ian-galagher @mickeysgaymom @gallavichsuperfan

@krysmiss @rereadanon @ardent-fox @the-rat-wins @thepupperino

@suzy-queued @francesrose3 @callivich @bawlbrayker @babygirlmickey

@bellezabelize @heymrspatel @stocious @gallavichgeek @rayrayor

Honorary tag for the newest tumblrite @runawaybrainsc

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Shanks

God of wine, festivals, and entertainment (Proustite earring)

It was simple in its beauty—a lonely earring that emitted a sweet light. The silver weave reminds you of a plant that slowly engulfs a small bud; the colors were similar to the wine that rich folks use to spill on the marble floors of their houses. It was strange that it wasn't followed by another one, but it was the less stranger thing that happened to you today.

Once the earring was on you, the first thing that you sensed was the sound of music and laughter. Strangely, the misterious temple seemed so empty just before... but then the musty smell was replaced by the fresh and green one of the old country sides. Grass and trees, and the int of alchol, even if the last one wasn't unpleasant or made you feel dizzy.

Suddenly, a ray of sunshine guided you to an opening that you were sure wasn't there before, and then you realized that you weren't in your city anymore. A landscape that reminds you of the ones in your travel book for Italy—gardens and wineries—as far as the eye can see. The music felt stronger now, coming from the temple down the old stone road in front of you.

The music felt louder and louder the more you got inside the temple, and so did the smell of wine and laughter.

You heard more sounds, similar to moans and sighs. You started to feel so embarrassed, and it felt so awkward, but you wanted so much to know why that strange place led you here!

Once you reached what the commotion was, you found yourself surrounded by... people, a lot of people doing... STUFF.

Oh boy, you were in a cult of some sort! Those clubs where people start to do something just because they can?! Oh boy, you needed to get out before.

"And what do we have here?"

Shanks was known to be a god who enjoyed life more than many of his kind.

He loved parties; he loved the alcohol, which he was even able to create from nothing; he loved to be a people-pleaser; and he surely loved to have some nice partners here and there. He was good friends with many gods, and a few of them hated him deeply for many reasons.

He may have had a lot of children around, but it wasn't like he could have known!

Even so, Shanks was even known to be one of the most powerful gods in the pantheon, known from the old story of him fighting an abyssal beast and losing an arm from that, but because he wanted to save someone really important to him. He even fought against the gods of fire and metal, won, and took his arm as a mementum.

He could be many things, and somehow something decided that he needed to be your husband.

But he couldn't know! Too drunk, and maybe even too horny, to figure out about the earring that he had made for his future bride, just in case.

He decided to handle the newcomer like he usually does by going straight to the point, but you were the newcomer, and his presence hadn't made you dizzy or horny at all.

When you felt his hand slowly falling to your back, giving a small squeeze, your first reaction was screaming, kicking him in the face, running away from that place, and finding a good hiding spot.

The commotion led him to do the complete opposite of his power; he made everyone sober and pretty much confused about what was going on.

Until his right-hand man, Benn, came in and informed him that the day of the arrival of his bride was today, he had a realization.

And, oh boy, if he was sorry, He felt genuinely bad, especially since you refused to listen to his apologies.

Finding out that some kind of entity wanted you to marry that pervert—that was a really bad and sad joke!

He'll try to win you; he'll refuse to force you into a marriage like that. After all, you chose him, right? There's got to be a good reason!

////////

Doflamingo

Mihawk