#like yeah its been barely a month since release but it suddenly got me wondering | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

enamoured-x · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Release

Angel Reyes x Reader

Summary: When Angel doesn’t make time for you, you make a hard choice.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Angst

Word count: 3k

Excerpt: “You couldn’t fake reaching literal heaven every time Angel sank inside you. But he didn’t deserve to hear that right now.”

*gif is mine!

a/n: so this came out of nowhere but i’m excited about it and there will be a part 2!!! i fucking missed writing for angel, so much so i may or many not open my requests back up again! keep an eye out for part 2 though!

Part 1

To say you were miserable was a gross understatement. And you couldn't even be mad about it because this was your doing. You were the reason you were wallowing everyday. You were the reason you had to take care of your own needs with a vibe that was nowhere near what you wanted. You were the maker of your own misery. But then again, were you really? Angel fucking Reyes should be the one to blame. When you first started dating Angel, everything was perfect, isn’t it always though? You were happier than you had ever been and honestly, you two were jumping each other's bones whenever you could. Up until a few months ago that was.

Suddenly Angel just couldn’t make time anymore, always busy with the club. You knew with being secretary came a lot more responsibilities, and you were extremely proud of him and happy that he was able to move up in the club. What you weren’t happy about was the canceled dates. Hell, sometimes he wouldn’t even come over to spend the night, opting to stay at the club house in his dorm because he was taking care of shit as he liked to put it. You had grown exhausted waiting for him at restaurants and then looking stupid as you had to tell the waiters your date wasn’t showing up. You were exhausted of the food you put an effort into making going to waste because he wouldn’t show and when he did even the leftovers went untouched because he already ate. You were exhausted from the effort and time you put into stopping by the clubhouse, figuring if he couldn’t come to you that you’d go to him. But even those occasions were met with his quick words of I can’t hang out right now, club shit. So eventually you just had enough. He wasn’t putting in any effort and you deserved more than that. Deserved more than a few measly texts a day that didn’t even contain a simple I love you. And you told him as much when you went to the clubhouse for the sole purpose of getting your key back to your apartment and to tell him you were through. Lord knows if you tried to schedule a time to talk it would’ve inevitably gotten canceled.

“Hey, sweetheart. Looking for Angel?” Ez had asked you as you pulled into the junkyard and exited your car. He was wiping grime off his hands with a cloth, looking like he was fixing up the bikes.

“Yup. I’ll spoil the surprise for you now but I’m here to dump your brother.” You were annoyed to say the least, at your wits end with the older Reyes. You were also honestly a little mad at yourself for not doing this sooner. Could’ve saved you from looking pathetic out in public a few times.

Ez’s eyes widened and he scratched the back of his neck.

“Jesus, What happened?” He asked, taking on a sympathetic tone. You loved Ezekiel like your own brother. He was always looking out for you and had become a great friend since you started dating Angel. Which is why you could only hope you two could remain friends even after this.

“I got tired of showing up for someone who isn’t willing to do the same.” You shrugged and then walked toward the house. Once inside you spotted Angel immediately, sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand as he talked with Coco and Gilly. So this was what he was doing instead of making time for you. They looked over at your presence and Angel stood up, a smile on his face.

“Hey, querida. What are you doing here?” He said, pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to your temple. Honestly, it was more affection than you had gotten all month. You didn’t make any move to lean into him.

“We need to talk.” Is all you said before Coco and Gilly awkwardly shared a look.

“I’m a little busy, mam–”

“Yeah, life as secretario looks so fucking busy.” You snapped and he backed away to look at you. His face contorted in confusion and anger.

“The fuck?” And that was Coco and Gilly’s cue to go outside, leaving just you and Angel.

“I need my key back to my apartment.” You stated, getting right into it. Trying to mask what you were really feeling. This was already hurting like a bitch despite the trajectory of your relationship recently. You loved Angel, you really did. But you loved yourself enough to know that you didn’t deserve putting in your all in this relationship as he gave you nothing in return.

“Come again?” He set his bottle down and gave you all his attention. That was a first.

“My key. Give it back. I’m done with this.” You motioned between you two. You were being a little more petty than you wanted to be. Originally you had planned to just have a civil conversation about leaving him but he couldn’t even extend that courtesy with his shit poor excuses so why should you? Besides, there was nothing civil about you and Ange Reyes.

“Wait, what the fuck are you talking about?” He was angry, now getting the gist of what you were doing.

“You heard me. We’re done. Give me my key back.” Angel shook his head and ran his hand through his hair.

“Fuck no. I’m not giving you shit back, we’re not done. The fuck are you talking about? Where’s this shit coming from?” Of course it was just like Angel to try and control the situation, act like he was in charge.

“You’re really asking me why?” You honestly don’t know how he could see this as a blindside. Honestly, he should be surprised you didn’t dump his ass sooner.

“Mami, stop playing fucking games.” He stepped closer, eye simmering with rage. How ironic.

“Angel, when was the last time we fucked?” You asked, trying to figure out how to gauge this conversation. Some part of you did want to just dump him and then leave, offering no explanation because the angry part of you felt like he didn’t deserve one. But maybe by explaining it you were doing a solid for the next girl that would come after you. Your heart restricted at the thought. Your stomach filling with lead. You pushed that away, now was not the time to sit in your grief, right now you were controlled by your anger and your disappointment.

“Wha–I don’t know…” He trailed off thinking. Probably confused by your question and what it had to do with you leaving him.

“Exactly. Angel, you’ve barely touched me this past month and I don’t have enough fingers to count how many times I’ve been stood up by you these past few weeks alone. You’re never around, Angel.” You pointed out. You felt your nose start to burn and you mentally cursed yourself for wanting to cry. You were supposed to put on this facade, you were supposed to act like you weren’t deeply devastated at the fact that you had to do this in the first place. But you were, sitting in your anger was only going to get you so far until that simmered out and the pain creeped in.

“I told you I–”

“Your busy, yeah, I got that.” You quipped. He tried to grab your hand but you pulled it away and he scoffed.

“You serious right now? I miss a few dates and you want to leave me? Nah, that’s not how this works. You talk to me about it.”

“Talk? Are you fucking serious? When could I have talked to you, hmm? I’ve made plans with you three times this week alone and you flaked on all of them, it's not even fucking Friday. So when could I have talked to you? You don’t fucking care.”

He stepped up to you and pointed at you, “do not say I don’t fucking care.” He was pissed, just now realizing the gravity of the situation. Just now realizing you weren’t fucking around. You were glad for it, maybe he’d take it seriously now.

“You don’t. If you cared I wouldn’t be up late at night wondering if you’re okay because you didn’t bother to shoot me a text. If you cared I wouldn’t look like an idiot to half the fucking waiters in this town because you didn’t bother to show up. If you cared, Angel, I wouldn’t have to touch myself at night because my own man can’t bother to please me.” You knew you were getting through to him during your spiel but his stare turned murderous when you questioned his abilities to please you. Of course that was what got his attention.

“The fuck you just say to me?” He towered over you now but you weren’t going to let him intimidate you. You were in charge of this situation, not him.

“Which part needs repeating? When I said you keep standing me up or the part where I said you don’t please me in bed?” You fired back. Gone was the grief again, your rage taking its turn to control you once again. Your emotions were all over the place but so were you and Angel.

“Careful, mami.” He said, voice low and threatening. You snorted.

“Why? Afraid your club will hear how you don’t know how to please a woman.” Next thing you know you were being shoved against the wall. Breath knocked out of you at the quick and forceful action. His hand latched onto your throat now. Your center throbbed, like a call to tell you that you needed this. You definitely didn’t want to but your fingers only did so much.

It was all shit, Angel did know how to please you, that is when he could be bothered. But you knew how to press his buttons just right, how to make him angry like no one else could. And you wanted him upset, you wanted him angry because he had hurt you.

“You know that’s not true. Had you screaming last time.” He said in your ear as he trailed his hands down your waist and to your ass. Pulling you closer to him to grind himself against you. You swallowed hard. You had missed his touch, had missed him being this close. Your senses were going haywire, not knowing which way was up or down, not knowing what the fuck you were here to do in the first place. All you could feel was him, all you could smell was him. All you wanted was him. But you knew right now you were thinking with your pussy and just because you wanted him still did not mean you didn’t want to break up with him. But your vibrator and fingers were doing a shit job at giving you what you needed, and well, if this was the end, you needed the release only Angel could provide you with. Despite you telling him only moments ago that he offered nothing in bed.

“Maybe I was faking it.” You weren’t. You couldn’t fake reaching literal heaven every time Angel sank inside you. But he didn’t deserve to hear that right now. He squeezed your throat, bringing you a sense of euphoria.

“Faking it? Yeah, let’s see you fake this, mami.” He unbuttoned your jeans and slid his hand inside your panties. You cursed yourself for being so wet already.

“You wet because you’re faking it?” He asked, lips right at your ear. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine and caused your core to clench around nothing. He felt it though. He laughed under his breath and you wanted to slap him for being so cocky after everything. But it wouldn’t matter once this was over. You’d let him have his fun now. Let him think he was in control one last time.

“I don’t think so. You’re always wet for me, always so damn needy. Always so fucking ready to take me.” He turned you around and pushed you against the wall, pulling at your hips for your ass to grind against his crotch. His dick was already hard and straining in his pants. You let out a moan. You didn’t care that you were out in the open, didn’t care that his words pissed you off mostly because they were true. Didn’t care that this was going to be the last time. No, all you cared about in this moment was getting Angel inside you and coming around his cock.

“Then fuck me, Angel. Prove you can actually please me.” You spurred him on. Needing your release already. Craving it.

“My fucking pleasure.” He said, obviously not in the mood to drag this on any longer. He made quick work of yanking your jeans and panties down and you heard him fumbling with his own pants. You felt the tip of his cock slide against your slit, getting himself slicked for you with your juices. You moaned as the head nudged against your clit. Your body was on fire. The white hot need inside you, pooling in your stomach, was screaming for a release. And you were about to get one.

“Fuck me already. Or did you forget how to do it?” You wanted it rough and hard, wanted him to leave bruises on your hips and feel you ache of him days later. You wanted something to remember him by.

“Shut the fuck up.” Was all he said before slamming into you, filling you up. You screamed at the force and at how long it had been since he was last inside you. The stretch hurt so good and you pushed against the wall to meet his brutal thrusts. He wrapped a hand around your throat again as he dug his fingers into your hips, forcing you on his length over and over.

“So fucking tight. This what you wanted, mami? So fucking desperate for my cock?” You whined at his words because they were true. But you didn’t want to admit it.

“I want it harder actually.” You were hanging on by a thread here. All that pent up frustration from spoiled orgasms from your fingers to hating Angel for leaving you high and dry. It was all coming together to create a thunderous symphony of emotions, one that was about to hit its crescendo.

Angel didn’t disappoint as he pounded you from behind, trying to reach his release as desperately as you were trying to reach yours. The hand that was on your throat immediately made way to your clit.

“Fuck, Angel.” You cried out as he rubbed the numb, never relenting in his pace. Tears were forming in your eyes. From the stimulation or from the breakup that was still going to happen, you didn’t know. All you knew right now was Angel.

“Fuck, yeah. Gonna come, mami? Gonna come on my dick?” You grabbed his arm to roll your hips both on his fingers and back onto his cock. Pleasure was hitting you from all angles and you were about to break. You clenched down on him, wanting him to reach his release too. Wanting to feel him fill you up.

“Oh fuck!” He yelled out as you clenched around him. He bit your shoulder to control himself and you groaned at the sting that accompanied his bite. It was all too much and not enough. Which was sign enough that you were right on the precipice.

“Gonna come.” You barely got the words out, mind too wrapped up in literally everything else. Everywhere Angel was touching.

“Do it. Let me hear you.” He rubbed just right on the bundle of nerves as his cock pistoned inside you and you were done for. You dived right off that cliff. Your back arched as you screamed his name. Your vision went black for a moment as you fucking drowned in your high. Angel diving right in after you as you felt him spill inside you and curse your name. You finally came back to the present, catching your breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm started to fade in waves. You suddenly became aware of the situation again. Became aware of why you were here. As mind blowing as that climax was, it didn’t change anything. You turned around as you lifted your pants back up, Angel doing the same. Once he finished buttoning them you pulled him in for a kiss. Putting everything you had into it, what was left of your energy. He kissed you back with the same intensity and you cursed him because this was all you had been asking for. For him to love you, for him to give you something. But he didn’t and this was not going to change anything.

As his tongue slipped into your mouth, you slid your hand into his back pocket and pulled out his keys and pulled away from him. He was confused until you backed up from him and started to unhook your key from his key ring.

“What the fuck….” Of course he was confused, of course he thought sex was going to fix this. You pushed the keys against his chest and he held your hand against his chest, realizing what was happening, what was still happening.

“No…” He shook his head, realization dawning on him that the sex was one last sweet release before you left. A goodbye. Not a makeup.

“Don’t do this shit. Don’t do this to me, baby.” He shook his head, eyes glossy. Words breaking. Your heart cracked, gone was the intense high he just gave you and instead there you were, right back in the low of it all.

“You did this to yourself, Angel. Goodbye.” You swallowed hard and tugged your hand out of his grasp, he let out a breath. You turned around and walked out the door with your head high. Walked out leaving him behind to deal with what just happened. Walked out and into the shit storm that was going to be the next few weeks of getting over one Angel Reyes.

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #mayans mc #angel reyes imagine

715 notes · View notes

andnofcksweregiven · 4 years ago

Text

Universal Rule

jeff wittek x reader

warnings: fluff , smut (i’m sorry if it isn’t super great first time writing it 😅)

synopsis: this anons request basically

There’s a universal rule that females and males can’t simply be friends. Where it came from- no one seems to know however, as much as we try and deny it, the realization that there’s harbored feelings hidden deep within you reels its ugly head around.

Jeff Wittek, a man who some may describe to be as gorgeous as a God but as charming as a devil. His natural allure but timidness factor to the ever growing attention of many women, ones he tries to politely reject with a signature giggle- a sign that, once again, he’ll be going home alone.

Except, he wasn’t truly alone as everyone believed. Jeff had a blossoming friendship with a neighbor, from the second he helped her with the last box on moving in day, to the next second everything fell through the bottom and all over his feet- a plethora of clothing ranging from heavy jeans to delicate red panties. For Jeff, it was like a nightmare, slight pink hue dusting his cheeks, that was until a fit of giggles erupted from his new neighbor's lips.

From that day on, Jeff and Y/N were inseparable. In their world, they were friends, ones without any ulterior motives in their hearts or heads, although- to someone looking in, Jeff and Y/N were a ticking time bomb. Either the final chapter to the romance part of their individual books, or the greatest heartbreak and tragedy since Romeo and Juliet.

Y/N was the first to realize and accept the fact that to her, Jeff was it. It tiptoed into her heart like a burglar, one who was preparing to wreak havoc on the one thing that no one had been able to possess in almost forever. It hit one evening, after Jeff was going on a rant about how there’s so much he has to do, and that even though he knows he’s working himself to the bone, he needs to make sure he’s growing. The vulnerability in his voice, the softness in his eyes melted Y/N- just like it had done to thousands of women before her.

For Jeff, it happened when Y/N had dragged him on a 2 am walk with Nerf after finding him slumped over his computer recording the same voice over for nearly 20 minutes- the food she had bought going cold besides him. Nerf was hopping up her ankles as they walked, an almost puppy like behavior, barking happily up at her. Jeff had stepped back to capture the moment as Y/N carried on going further- he had slowly lowered his phone as he gazed longingly at a girl who you could compare to Aphrodite.

The universe runs on minutes, hours, days, months and so on. A singular second could be a turbulent moment in ones life. Jeff and Y/N had so many stored seconds from meeting, to the realization that your friend holds more power over your existence then another soul. Those seconds, as heavy as they felt, had fleeted away like distance memories to reminisce on later. Nonetheless, the universe runs on seconds.

Jeff had been running late for a usual movie/ catch up night with Y/N, which led to her deciding to take a brisk shower to calm her ongoing nerves. To her dismay, her mind must have slipped up the tiny detail of letting Jeff know she was in the shower, let alone the fact that he had a spare key to her apartment.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I know I’m late but there was about 20 ninjas I had to fight off in the hallway an’ then a meteor was gunna come an’ hit-” Jeff voice slowly went quieter as he spun away from the front door, only to be met with an empty living room. “Huh, she must be running late as well” he thought.”fuuuuuck I need a piss, she wouldn’t care if I used her toilet”

He walked idly towards the bathroom, unaware to his surroundings as the only thought he was having was how much he was bursting. It wasn’t until a ear piercing shriek echoed off the walls as a naked Y/N stood stunned in the middle of the bathroom.

“Y/N!? HOLY FUCK I- I’M SO SORRY I-” spinning on his heel and running out the room as Y/N finally wrapped her towel securely round her.

“JEFF WHAT THE HELL?” she screamed at him once entering the living room, a pink faced Jeff sitting on the arm rest of her couch head in hands, from the sheer mortifying fact he had managed to see her whole bare silhouette.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I- I- I really needed the toilet...” a whisper that would’ve been hard to catch if the environment hadn’t been so silent.

“Oh, well go on then I’m done anyways” retreating back into her room to put some article of clothing and a shred of dignity that might have been left in her. Whilst Jeff hurried back into the steamed up room, the blush growing more prominent by every thought of that singular second.

It carried on through out the night, the tension thick in the air, as Jeff kept replaying the moment- he felt like he was being engulfed by the steam from how hot he was starting to feel. The beads of water cascading down your heaving chest, your pillowy lips slightly parted from shock as your sparkling eyes stared directly at him. The more he fantasized, the tighter his shorts got- he was trying his best not to let his mind wonder but having you pressed against his right side, your delicate hands grazing his upper left arm- sending electricity through out his veins- it was leaving him dissatisfied.

“Y/N?” his voiced wavered as he gazed downwards at the h/c haired girl,

“Yeah Jeff?”

“Can you look at me for a sec”

A slight giggle escaped your mouth, as you raised your head to stare longingly into his eyes. “Ok what do you want because this is a really good sce-”

A second.

A second was all it took before your lips collided into a passionate yet sensual kiss. A kiss that had left you breathless and almost bare once he pulled away. The empty space between your lips seeming never ending, suddenly you grasped at the collar of his shirt as you fell back on the couch, Jeff following as he slotted himself between your parting legs. His lips trailed towards your jaw and down your neck- sucking and biting, leaving something more then just a memory behind.

Hot breathes followed by sharp movements of clothes being ripped off, after months of hesitation and refusal of the cardinal need to be with one another.

Jeff's lips wrapped around the stiff peak of your right tit as his slightly rough textured hand, massaged the other one. To him, it felt like silk, soft and welcoming. He didn’t think he could feel better until he finally got a taste of you, a broad stripe up your slit, making you gasp and slightly arch your back off the couch as his forearm held your hips down. As he pulled his head back, the loss of contact had you whining until suddenly Jeff delved his head back in, sucking on your clit that a guttural moan escaped your bruised lips. Your eyes rolled back as you felt a tight coil in your lower abdomen as Jeff continued his attack in between your legs.

“Jeff I’m gunna, JEFF!”

You came all over his tongue as he carried on lapping away, the taste of you making his mind hazy. Finally, he pulled himself up towards your face, your eyes hooded as you tried to catch your breath.

He placed a light kiss to the top of your head has he stroked your hair backwards, whispering and “are you ok?” to your hairline.

He was going to ask if you wanted to go on before he felt your hand wrap itself around his dick, slowly moving your hand up and down as you placed the tip against your entrance. Looking into your eyes for any shred of hesitance, but being instead met with lust. He kept the eye contact as he pushed himself further inside, a sharp intake of breathe being held inside your lungs as your walls enveloped around him. He didn’t start moving until you let the breathe out, followed by a slight nod.

He built up his speed start slow and hard before hammering into you, the tip of his dick hitting the spot you needed him too. Both of your moans harmonizing as the air carried them in the room, along with skin slapping. Jeff was insatiable. To him, you were like a new vice, one that he intends on never dropping. The constrictions of your walls felt like heaven as you gripped onto his dick, your groans and breaths becoming shallow and shaky as you neared your peak. A final hip shattering thrust, made you coat Jeff’s dick as he slowed down, nearing his own finish as his breathing became ragged until, at last, he pulled out and released on your stomach.

He collapsed beside you as your labored breathing filled the silence- the movie long finished.

“Wow, I really wasn’t expecting that” you half heartedly chuckled, as you cuddled back into Jeff’s side, head resting on his chest.

Your head bounced as Jeff’s laugh echoed in his chest. “If I’m being honest y/n/n, neither did I”

“So what now Jeff? Can’t exactly pretend this didn’t happen” resting your chin on his chest, waiting to see his deep brown eyes that turned golden in the Sun light.

“Lets not then” he responded nonchalantly as your eyebrows crumpled together, his gaze averting away from the barren ceiling to yours, a smile gracing his lips as a deep emotion of love clouded his eyes “This is a second I never want to forget”

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek fanfiction #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek imagines #jeff wittek smut #jeffs barbershop

250 notes · View notes

issaxcharlie · 4 years ago

Text

Falling like the stars✨

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N never got to be a thing. Whatever they had ended abruptly when she settled on someone with far more status than the aspiring guitarist. Months later, now single, Luke entangles her in a scheme to make Sunset Curve more popular. The only thing she needs to do is fake date him for 2 weeks.

Songs used: Holy Ground by Taylor Swift, Loved You First by One Direction and Falling Like The Stars by James Arthur.

High school is a world by itself. It has its own system and everyone moves through it. It is something that although it is not discussed, everyone knows. Including the three members of Sunset Curve, who are lying in the yard trying to find a solution to their latest problem.

"We need more people to support our music. If we can't get this little school to support us, how are we going to fill clubs or sign with a label?” Reggie wonders aloud to himself, no matter how hard they try, they can't get the Los Feliz student body to listen to their band.

“We should have thought about it before, Reg. Now we're just the problem kids who most likely won't finish school. Why would they come to see us at those seedy little clubs when they can go show off at football games.” Luke stands up suddenly after Alex words, one of those huge smiles that comes out when he has a really bad idea on his face.

“Well it seems that the solution is easy, boys. We have to make them see us on the same level as those jocks.”

“Oh yeah, and how are we going to do that, genius?” Alex fiddles with his hands as he rests his head on Reggie, both tired of not being able to come even close to fulfilling their dream.

Luke points to the nearest post, on which there are at least 5 posters to support the homecoming king and queen.

“Really? Do you think someone would vote for you? Before all those star athletes who also have a cheerleader to back them up? You basically have just us and I don't think I can do one of those tricks.”

“We’ll think of something. Winning that stupid thing would put us directly in the top of the pyramid. We’ll find a way, we always do.” Before anyone can respond, some screaming and commotion can be heard.

“Savannah is accusing Y/N to mess with her man! Run, they are in the hall!" students mention as they start running to watch the discussion.

“Oh god, Y/N. I’ll better go and see if I can help her somehow.” Alex gets up and Reggie begins to follow him, but not before turning to make sure Luke is following too. The guitarist makes an irritated face but ends up walking behind his friends.

From the moment they enter the main hall they can hear the screeches of probably the most popular girl in school, Savannah Miller. One of those typical unbearable girls who for some reason always reach the top of the elite in schools despite treating everyone badly.

Y/N Y/L is on the other side of the discussion, she looks calm and even bored. The first thing Luke digests from Savannah's words is that she thinks Y/N was making out with her idiot of a boyfriend during third period. What's interesting about the situation is that Diego cheated on Y/N with Savannah maybe a week and a half ago and had been dating her ever since.

But that's not Y/N's style, no matter how angry she is.

Luke knows her well enough, or so he wants to believe. She was always good friends with Alex and Reggie, and her relationship with them remained strong over the years despite how unstable and fleeting her relationship with the guitarist was.

He's never going to admit how deeply he felt for her. How much it screwed him up that just when he finally began to believe they could be something else, she completely walked away from his life so she could date the man that would end up cheating on her just because he looked more promising at the time. Rich, popular, the quarterback of the football team, the ‘perfect guy’ she said to the boys.

But hey, that's past.

Luke looks up to meet Y/N's eyes on him. In the moment she realizes she was caught, she sneakily turns to Alex, who is just inches from the guitarist and smiles at him.

“Are you actually smiling? You think this is funny?” The girl looks furious, but she's smart enough not to make this a battle of strength.

“I already told you, Savannah. It wasn’t me.”

“I can count, Y/N. Neither you nor Diego were in class."

And that’s when it hits him. The possibility of getting to the top of the pyramid in front of him. Because maybe Y/N is not the most popular, but it is undoubtedly one of the most loved by everyone. Intelligent, caring, beautiful, talented. And she certainly has the status after dating Diego Hernandez for one semester. No one had managed more than 3 months with him and the guitarist thinks that was a good sign that that idiot is not a good idea but well, it wasn’t his choice.

Luke begins to walk towards the center of the circle, Alex tries to stop him but cannot catch his arm in time. Both girls turn to see him surprised, but neither says anything.

"You can go find culprits elsewhere, Y/N was busy with me at the time. You can ask whoever you want and they'll tell you that I wasn't in class during third period either."

Of course, he wasn't there because the trio got into Reggie's old truck to get some hotdogs but no one has to know that.

His hand goes to take her firmly by the hip, just like all those nights that now only remain as memories. He is looking at every inch of her face, searching for her reaction, and is surprised by the naturalness with which the girl accepts the gesture. As if his hand belongs there. And maybe, just maybe, it does.

“Do you really want me to believe this?” Savannah asks, clearly annoyed.

“Y/N and Patterson? There’s just no way in hell. C’mon babe, he’s just pathetic, you could do better.” Diego says out loud as he approaches the scene in the middle of Y/N and Savannah.

There's something about the disgruntled way they both said it that makes Luke want to prove that a girl like her could want him. He doesn’t know how to distinguish if it is pride or insecurity but at the moment he is not interested.

He's barely going to open his mouth to defend himself when Y/N starts talking. "No. You can speak as badly as you want of me but you're not going to bring Luke into this."

Luke lets go of her so he can step back a few inches and see her from a better angle. She’s definitely not calm anymore. Her face looks altered and she is undoubtedly in protective mode. She turns to see him when she feels his hand leave her body but he offers her his hand and she intertwines it between her fingers without hesitation. At this rate she is taking control of the situation so he is going to let her continue and try to achieve his goal along the way.

“I know you need a partner to have any hope of winning the crown, but choosing Patterson is a desperate move.”

And that’s his cue. "If my baby wants that crown I will get it for her. It's that easy.”

“What? I do-” At that moment Luke panics and pulls her by the hand that they have intertwined and with the other holds her face while bringing their lips together. When he reacts to what he is doing he is afraid that Y/N will push him in front of everyone but to his surprise she kisses him back instantly, releasing his hand to bring him closer to the neck.

The kiss is passionate and almost desperate, but it only lasts a few seconds since a voice brings them back.

"This feels like deja vu." Reggie whispers to Alex, they both walked during the discussion towards the circle and are so close that Luke and Y/N heard him clearly.

“Well, we already clarified that she was not with your boyfriend so, I’ll take my girl. It was a pleasure, we should repeat this another day... said no one ever." Luke takes her hand and leads her to the nearest empty living room, Reggie and Alex locking the door behind him.

“What the hell was that crown bullshit? Why did you even cover for me? What are you up to? At least tell me is fun... or that includes you shirtless.” She jokes, a cheeky smile spreads in Luke’s face.

“I need a favor and thought you’ll appreciate an alibi.” She raises her eyebrow in reflex.

“Why would I help you, Lucas?” Luke can only think of how she makes a name as simple and boring as Lucas sound so sexy when she says it. Is incredible.

“Cut the act, beautiful. We both know you've never been able to resist me.” Y/N laughs amused at the boy’s sassiness. She won't admit it but she missed his eyes on her. She missed the way he uses that cocky stupid voice that melts her when he wants something. How he gets closer with each sentence, or his lips on her mouth.

Before she can counter attack, Alex stands in front of the guitarist raising his hands. “I know he’s an idiot, but we really need your help, Y/N. If we want Sunset Curve to gain popularity we have to start here, and this is our last year. Gaining popularity among the elite of the school would help us a lot.”

“We are getting desparate.” Reggie adds, a sad smile on his face.

“And pretending I made out with Luke in third period and getting to be homecoming dance queen and king helps you... why?”

“That crown is literally a test of popularity and status. It would put Luke on the same level as the popular kids like Savannah and Diego. People would be more interested in Sunset Curve after that. For now, for them we are only three good for nothing that one day will not appear around here again. You heard yourself that those two didn't think Luke was good enough."

Her face flushes with anger as soon as she remembers the contemptuous tone of voice they used to refer to Luke. If they hadn't been in the middle of the hall, she probably would have said a lot more than she did. That single comment is enough to make her decide, so without thinking Y/N asks “What do you need me to do?”

“Just play perfect couple with Luke until homecoming dance. Then you are queen and king, Sunset Curve gets the fans we deserve, you get to laugh at Savannah’s face and you can separate next day if you want to.”

“I’m not sure If someone is going to believe it.” She blurts out loud as she glances at the guitarist.

“Oh please, you know each others mouth better than your own names.” Reggie says without thinking, Luke snorted with laughter and Y/N blushes like crazy.

“Yeah, and you used to spend a lot of time together too, two weeks shouldn’t be that hard.” Alex tries to recover the seriousness of the situation to close the deal.

“Okay then. If I can help Sunset Curve and get that smirk of superiority off Savannah's face then sounds good to me. Are you willing to date me, Patterson?”

Their eyes meet again and without a sign of hesitation her now officially boyfriend for the next two weeks, answers.

“Beautiful, you have no idea.”

There is something about relationships that never get to happen that make the heart weigh more, that nostalgia to be stronger, the person more difficult to forget. Luke can't help but remember during the last periods of the day just how good it felt to taste the girl's lips again. Feelings of desire, of familiarity, of belonging. All colliding and going deep into his bones.

He decided a long time ago he didn't do relationships, but if he did, it would have been with her. He was willing to break that rule for her, but she had the final decision and it wasn't him. He accidentally put himself in the perfect situation though. All those what if’s will finally have an answer.

For two weeks he can test what it would have been if Y/N Y/L had chosen him. And when he finally tries the experience he will be free. Free from all the what if’s, free from her, from her memory. And there's also the part of how much the band will benefit. The main objective of doing this, obviously.

The last hour is finally over and Luke sped off toward Reggie's truck. In front of it is Alex already waiting and he can see Reggie and Y/N also walking in the same direction. The four of them regroup and Y/N starts to discuss game plan.

“If we are going to do this, we are going to do it well. There will be a party at Finch's house this Saturday and the three of you are coming with me."

The three members of Sunset Curve make an annoyed face at the words of their friend. "That's exactly why no one supports you. You think you are too cool to hang out with the people but then you want everyone to happily buy your shirts and listen to your music."

“She has a point there.” Alex agrees, and puts his arm around her shoulder.

“Okay, let’s do this. If you all come with me, we can leave early and crash one of those places you usually play. Maybe even have some people of the party to come with us and hear you rock the shit out of that place.” All three smile with bright eyes In response.

“You got yourself a deal, pretty lady.” Reggie says in a flirting tone and winks at her. Luke gives him a light punch on the arm.

"I'll see you on Saturday in my house then, at nine. Goodbye boys." She winks at Luke and walks over to her car, making sure to do a perfect walk because she knows pretty well that the guitarist isn't going to stop watching her until she pulls out of the parking lot.

Luke gives her a perfect smile one last time before Y/N leaves school. These two weeks are going to be weird.

The four members of the band are in the truck, Bobby decided to get out of school recently but a party and a gig sounds like a rad Saturday. Luke gets out and walks to the door to wait for Y/N to come out. When she finally comes down he feels like all the air is coming out of his lungs.

She's wearing the black Sunset Curve t-shirt that he forgot one of the many times he climbed up to the second floor of the house to see her. A short black skirt and one of his red flannels that he probably left there several months ago as well. Black fishnets stockings which he can't help but imagine ripping out with his teeth, her lips in that tone of red that drives him crazy, and her classic black boots that he hadn't seen since she started dating the cheating idiot.

“Genius huh? Is there anything that says more ‘Luke Patterson’s property’ than this? I don’t think so." She smiles proudly and blushes when she notices Luke's gaze locked on her legs. Fishnets may have been included in the outfit due to a certain weakness that the musician has towards them.

The hair that the guitarist is used to seeing in a perfect bun lately, is now loose and tousled. As rebellious as the day he met her, moving in harmonious tune to the rhythm of Now or Never.

Luke reaches out to to entwine his hand in her hair and whispers slowly into her ear “You look... fucking hell, you are not playing fair, baby.” Lightly biting her lobe when he’s done speaking.

They both linger in a trance for a few seconds, considering whether they should just walk in and lock the door. But before they can decide, the boys that already know this story pretty well and are sick of waiting for them while they flirt, get out of the truck. Reggie carries Y/N like a sack of potatoes and between Bobby and Alex take Luke by the arms, putting them in the vehicle so they can finally get to the lame party and then, the gig.

When they finally arrive, the eyes of almost all the girls go to the members of the band, who are definitely dressed for the occasion. Y/N can't help but notice how most of the cheerleaders wink at her boyfriend. Yeah, it’s not real and will last two weeks, but for now she justs wants to forget that part and enjoy the feeling of him being hers.

So she makes a small, harmless gesture to mark territory and puts her hand in the guitarist's back pocket.

Luke turns to see her, an amused smirk on his face. “Jealousy looks so hot on you, I wouldn't mind if you marked my lips with that red lipstick too."

That statement resonates in Y/N’s head. All the times Diego refused to kiss her so as not to stain himself and even forbade her to use that lipstick that for her was part of her brand returning to her head. Followed quickly by every night Luke came down after finishing playing and instantly attacked her lips with his, caring for nothing more than the feel of their tongues fighting for control.

“Not jealousy, just a quick reminder to everyone. You are all mine tonight.” She puts a little more pressure on the hand in his pocket and stands on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips.

“Dance with me?” She asks innocently while giving him a flirtatious smile.

“With you, always beautiful.” He smiles back, winking charmingly.

His hands find hers and she begins to dance and jump gracefully to the rhythm of the music as he spins her around, both singing the lyrics to each other with unmatched energy, happy to be together.

“Tonight I'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through.” She sings with a determined voice, taking the musician by the hair and bringing their faces closer.

“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you.” Luke returns the verse with the same passion, just inches separating their lips. His beautiful and trained voice tends to sound like a more country vibe when he gets carried away and especially in more pop melodies like this, and honestly drives her crazy.

The fact that the rocker at heart gave in to listen to other genres for her and even remembered the lyrics was enough to melt her heart. The last time she was able to let herself go and sing at the top of her lungs like this was with him, listening to a mix of their favorite songs in his car while going for their favorite icecream. Whatever they had was a lot more deeper than what they are willing to admit.

“Did we really just see Luke sing and dance to a pop-country song?” Reggie asks the band, Alex and Bobby behind him laughing at the guitarist who blushes and kisses his date's forehead. “I am not going to discuss this. I'll go get us something to drink." He winks at her and dissapears into the crowd.

“I’ll go too, be right back.” Bobby announces leaving Y/N with Alex and Reggie, who smirk at her.

“It seems that pretending is easier than you thought.” Alex can't stop smiling, Reggie playfully itches the girl's ribs who grins from ear to ear.

"Everything always fits when I'm with him. I ruined my chance. I'm totally aware, and I'm not expecting anything from him, because I honestly don't deserve it. But I plan to enjoy every second of these two weeks that came from heaven to the fullest.”

“You should explain hi-” Before Reggie can finish speaking, Diego appears behind Y/N and tries to forcefully pull her by the arm.

The guys manage to react quickly and release her arm while stepping in front of her. But right away his teammates get behind him.

“Save yourselves the pain, she is going with me.” Diego says confidently, his face showing arrogance.

“Guys, ple-” She tries to stop them from getting hurt, but both step a little forward, determined to protect her no matter the cost.

“You are not taking her, Diego. But you are more than welcome to try.” Alex's voice sounds cool and calm, but Y/N can see how much his hands are shaking and her heart hurts at the sight.

They are all so into their own business that nobody notices the guitarist's return until his lips collide with his girl, who is surprised for a few seconds but immediately recognizes him and gives him space for his tongue to taste her mouth.

They both lose themselves in the kiss for a few seconds longer than necessary and then slowly separate. Y/N grinning from ear to ear as she tries to wipe some of her lipstick off Luke's mouth. He just smirks, as happy as ever.

"Sorry guys, do you need something?" He plays the innocent card. After that kiss, most of the people at the party are watching the scene, so Diego, who looks furious, chooses to leave without saying anything. Right away they can hear a long restrained breath from Reggie and Alex.

“You are a cocky genius, I'm not sure we could have won that one.”

“I’m not sure? Did you seriously think we had a chance?” Alex asks, clearly anxious after what had just happened.

Y/N stands in front of them and throws herself into their arms, whispering how many thanks she can say in a row. They return the hug and begin to relax in each others arms. Bobby and Luke join in the hug, and Luke whispers his own thanks to his friends.

The band decides that it’s time to go and to their surprise, when they let people know that they are going to play at a small club in the center of the city, some decide to follow them. On the way, Y/N spends her time wiping her lipstick off Luke’s face with some wipes she had in her bag, struggling not to press her lips against his every time he made her an adorable grimace or a flirtatious smile.

“You know the drill, beautiful.” Luke turns to see her directly in the eyes, concern on his face just like every time before.

“Front row, not a second out of your sight, so if I need something better wait for you guys to finish performing to get it. Better safe than sorry." She recites, proud to remember every word.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiles a little more calmly, gives her a light kiss on the cheek and starts to help take out the instruments.

They are only doing a few songs from their repertoire, but the energy they transmit drives everyone in the little club crazy. The Sunset Curve members look at a Luke they haven't seen in a long time. The energy and passion in his voice dedicated entirely to the little woman in the front row who sings with all her strength every word and melody, imitating Luke's guitar solos or Alex's drums with her arms.

The 15 students who decided to attend are close to Y/N, trying to get her attention from time to time but nothing can take her eyes off her friends. Not even she knew how much she had missed seeing them play. The look of maximum happiness on their faces.

The last song is one that the little club seems quite familiar with, but she had never heard it before. So it must have been written in the last six months.

“Had my chances, could've been where he is standing.

That's what hurts the most, girl, I came so close

But now you'll never know. Baby, I loved you first.”

The lyrics leave her breathless. Luke, who had made contact with her practically all night, now seems to avoid her eyes like a plague. She definitely has to ask Alex about this song before getting any ideas.

The four bow and get off the stage, Luke launches immediately for Y/N, some of the girls try to get his attention and even try to grab him by the arm or waist but he remains firm until his hands meet his girl's hip.

“What do you think?” Luke's fingers shaking in the grip on her waist tell her he's nervous. The fact that her opinion of them matters so much to him that it makes him feel insecure makes her heart skip a beat.

“It was amazing as always, rockstar.” A huge smile appears on the guitarist's face, who gently takes her face with his hands and kisses her nose. After all, he has to remember that they are only pretending to date and for now he has no good reason to push his lips against hers. It doesn't matter how much he needs her.

The way home is uneventful, Y/N sleeping in Luke's arms while Alex puts the guitarist's red flannel over her.

“Will they ever stop pretending they're ridiculously in love with each other?” Bobby asks Reggie as he turns his head to see the couple.

“They are both stubborn and allergic to real feelings. Especially love. They are so terrified that they have to sabotage themselves somehow.” Alex answers for Reggie who just nods without taking his eyes off the road.

"Do you really have to talk like I'm not here?" Luke asks, resting his chin delicately on the head of the woman in his arms.

Tonight felt unreal. Felt practically like one of the many dreams he has had with the girl throughout these months. Seeing her in his clothes was enough to make the night special, but without a doubt dancing in her arms, savoring every inch of her mouth and seeing her energetically sing each of his songs to end the night with her in his arms is just perfect. Reggie parks at Y/N’s after dropping Alex and Bobby, and as Luke decides how to get her to bed without waking her she sinks deeper into his chest.

"Carry me to the door hotstuff, I like to be in your sexy arms." Luke lets out a cheeky laugh in surprise, another laugh coming from Reggie.

“She’s so asleep, I can’t. Adorable though.” Luke agrees and takes her bag before walking down with her in his arms and carrying her effortlessly to the door.

“Thank you for tonight. I didn’t think I could ever feel this happy and complete again.” She murmurs in his ear before giving him a sweet peck in the lips and enter the house.

What the two of them took from tonight is that indisputably, they are both still head over heels for each other. But it was like that the first time and it just wasn't enough.

Days go by with the couple being the school's favorite gossip. People talking in the hallways about the special way Luke looks at his girlfriend, comparisons about the dry way Y/N used to be with Diego compared to how she is with the guitarist, always touching him somehow and spending all the time with him as possible, visibly much happier. Some also talking about how good the band sounds and wondering why they hadn't heard it before. Everything going according to plan.

On Thursday afternoon, Luke arranged to pick her up for the two of them to find him something formal enough for the dance. When Y/N opened the door she met his beautiful greenish hazel eyes, and swears that for a second she forgot how to breathe.

She knows this scene. He smiles sweetly at her, takes her hand and opens the door of the car for her. Multiple interesting memories inside this car coming back to her mind. His firm hands on her legs, his tongue testing her mouth, his hot moans after biting his lower lip...

“Beautiful? Whatcha thinking?” Luke's voice brings her back to the present, his hand goes directly to her thigh as all that many midnight drives and without saying anything he plays the girl's favorite album.

That’s it. If she wants a chance with him, she needs to make this right. “I- We really need to talk.” Hearing the tone of her voice, Luke senses what is coming. He was here before. So he turns off the car that hadn't even started to move yet and turns to look at her.

"I know we've been putting it off, but we have to talk about how it all ended, I-"

Luke interrupts her before she can finish, his voice sounds broken, sad, angry. "I really don't want to talk about how you preferred an idiot for whom you don't feel the remotest thing just because he'll get a football scholarship and this perfect future.”

She spends a few seconds processing his words. Did he really say what she thinks he said? "It wasn't like that, Luke."

"I know it looks like I can't compete with him, but I would have done anything for you. And I thought you knew that.”

She doesn't know what to do or say. She was so unconscious, so selfish, so heartless, that she didn't even think about how he could have understood the situation. In how much he must have suffered these months watching her with Diego, believing he wasn’t good enough. Believing that she chose someone who wasn’t him, because he wasn’t good enough.

He stays quiet, examining the girl who seems about to cling to tears. The anger evaporates instantly and he leans into her seat to wrap his arms tightly around her. She starts sobbing, but seems determined to talk.

“R- Remember the night we met? It was the first Sunset Curve presentation. I had just entered the little club, but your voice dragged me to the front row like a magnet. And when I was finally in front of the stage, I knew it. It was you. The butterflies that everyone talks about for the first time in my stomach. I knew I could never feel again something even close to what I was feeling at that moment.

I got carried away in your voice, dancing to the rhythm of the melody and recording every sound in my head. And when I opened my eyes again, yours were staring at me. And I understood that you felt it too. It was me, and you knew it. It was so natural, powerful, magnetic, deep. I loved you since the first day, Luke. How is that not going to scare me?

When the feelings started to get so strong they burned, I knew I had to run. You always made it very clear that relationships were not your thing, I could not continue to wait for something that from the beginning you made it clear you could not give.

Then Diego arrived at the right time to give me an exit, and I took it. I knew he just wanted to have me around to raise his good boy status, and feeling nothing was safer than feeling too much. So I lied. I lied to you, to me, to everyone. And I’m sorry, but I was so scared. I was a coward who should have done things differently.”

When she finally finishes pulling out what she's been saving for months, she pulls away from Luke to see his face. His eyes look crystal clear, his cheeks red. But his beautiful white smile lights up his face.

"Next time you love me so much that you can't bear it, let me know, please? I can step on your foot or sneeze in your face. I was literally going to ask you to be my girlfriend that weekend. I even wrote you a song."

“You were? The one you sang the other night?”

“Okay, I wrote you a lot of songs. Maybe too many. But the one I'm talking about is different. Maybe I'll let you listen to it one day. If you stick around long enough this time.”

She smirks and kiss him lightly on the lips, enjoying the feeling of being able to. He knows he reacted way too chill. But he also understands her feelings. What is the point of reproaching her for something they can no longer change? A bad decision made by a love so immense that it left her blind. He is simply not willing to waste any more time. They are finally going to do things right. Neither of them is going to self-sabotage it this time, and since he doesn't trust it, he'll put Alex and Reggie in charge to make sure.

The night of the dance arrives. Y/N is wearing a beautiful black dress and her classic red lips. Luke tried his best to look fancy and he's wearing a pretty cool suit but in a sleeveless version. His still fake girlfriend couldn't stop smiling when she saw him. Just perfect.

Dancing in his arms, letting him go only once in a while to dance with the other three members of Sunset Curve made the night amazing. The rest of these two weeks they spent it talking, laughing... making out. Enjoying the most of the time they lost. Even completely forgetting why they were faking it in the first place, until they ask the candidates to take the stage.

"And your king are queen are... Y/N Y/L and Diego Hernandez!"

They all turn to see Luke in shock. Just hearing their names together is enough to make him frustrated, but there's not much he can do right now. And that's when he remembers what he asked the boys to play for the king and queen's first dance. Great, now dance they’ll dance to his song together. Just his damn luck. He sabotaged himself again without imagining it.

They are crowned and Diego offers her his hand, not without first throwing a face of superiority to the guitarist. She walks but continues straight until she is in front of her lover.

Luke looks at her strangely, she smiles at him.

“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you. Remember?” She sings happily in his ear, and offers her hand.

“Dance with me?” He looks at her adoringly and takes her hand.

“Always, beautiful.”

They walk to the center of the floor, Alex begins to sing the first verse. Y/N rests her head on Luke's chest, her hands around his neck, as he presses her against him by the hip, wrapping her in his arms. His head bent to sing the song in her ear.

“I swear to God, I can see... you're still the girl in the club.”

Tears of happiness begin to flow from Y/N, the words that she never had the opportunity to know, finally getting revealed. Luke's sweet, soft voice in her ear. The perfect melody and the beautiful voice of Reggie and Alex in the background.

“And I need you to know that we're fallin' so fast

We're fallin' like the stars, fallin' in love.”

The moment he sings in love, Y/N lifts her head to meet his eyes. He lifts his hands to her cheeks to wipe her tears, gently holding her face to make sure she sees him recite every word.

“And I'm not scared to say those words. With you, I'm safe.

We're fallin' like the stars, we're fallin' in love.”

The second Luke finishes singing, Y/N stands on tiptoe and pushes her lips against his. Tears of happiness continue to fall from her face, wrapped in a passionate, slow, deep kiss. He's all she wants. Her heart chose him since the very first day.

“I can’t believe one of Luke’s random ideas it's what made them find their way back to each other. Reg, we tried for 6 months and we were never even close. Two weeks ‘pretending’ and bam! they are just fine.”

Both watch the happy couple dance now that they are official.

"You know what they say, Fake it till you make it.” Reggie smirks while watching Luke happily kiss Y/N.

“Fair. At least everything was fixed before we shoved Luke into the pool to see if Y/N would rescue him with a mouth-to-mouth kiss."

“We still could try, you know... for science.”

“Cool. Monday works for me. Do you think that even though he didn't win, we still have a chance to win some more fans?”

Reggie raises his head before answering, a smile appears when he sees the bunch of girls and boys who are spying on them just a few meters away. Probably waiting for them to finish talking to get closer.

“I think Sunset Curve will be just fine too, Alex.”

Thank you for reading✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning , @ghostofmgg, @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1

#luke patterson imagine #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson fic #luke patterson oneshot #luke patterson fanfiction #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson #luke jatp #jatp imagine #jatp one shot #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie x reader

867 notes · View notes

lunarflux · 4 years ago

Text

"baby i drink to forget - not to remember"

hwang hyunjin x reader

genre — fluff!au

drinking!!!

suggested background music: x

What started out as one bottles suddenly turned into ten.

Your group of friends sat in a circle on the floor, passing soju bottles around like greetings at the thought of another long year of friendship that came and went. It was already past midnight, but the crickets were silenced by the boom of spontaneous laughter and conversation.

Hyunjin always sat beside you. You never knew why - in all the years of friendship you had, he always chose the seat next to yours. He'd smile and laugh with you, but he never got any closer than the two inches of the space between seats. It's been years, but you never thought to ask.

Tonight was game night. Felix bought some card game and thought it was a good idea to play this over drinks. You had to admit this was more fun than watching everyone play games or going out to a club.

"It's called We're Not Really Strangers -" Felix opened the box.

You groaned, recognizing the name. "Felix, that's like an emotional game; why'd you pick that?" You hiccupped in between shots.

He shrugged, "I dunno. It seemed like a fun thing to do. I can't remember the last time we had a deep talk other than that one wedding we went to when Changbin started crying into his cake after one too many shots."

Had Changbin not finished a bottle of two by himself, he might have been awake for that jab.

Hyunjin puffed out his cheeks, taking the deck from Felix and shuffling it in between taking another shot. "Five years of friendship, and you still want to know more about us, huh?"

Felix smiled in between exchanging glances with your friend beside him. He'd had a crush on her for ages. A small game like this should've said enough.

In one word, describe how you feel right now.

When was the last time you surprised yourself?

Strangers would describe me as _____. Only I know myself as ______.

The game went on until eventually you and Hyunjin were the only ones awake. Felix left with his crush for a midnight ice cream run. Changbin had to be carried home. It was just the two of you. He pulled the next card.

"Are you missing anyone right now? Do you think they're missing you?" Hyunjin read aloud to you. "Well?"

"Well, what?" You sneered.

"Are you missing anyone?" He smirked.

"No."

"Not even one person?"

"No."

"Why not?"

You shrugged. "Everyone I really like is here in this room. What's to miss?"

Hyunjin almost looked satisfied. Skipping your turn, he picked up another card. "Wild card - make an assumption about me. Says we both have to answer."

You turned to face your friend.

As if he wasn't expecting you to get so close, he nearly leaned away. You could smell the faint scent of alcohol on his lips. Or maybe it was yours? After the last bottle, you couldn't really tell anymore.

Hyunjin was always such a curious character. Back when you were in high school, he was always so sweet. He'd offer to walk with you to school or share his lunch if you tried to diet. You almost swore he liked you at some point, but it just never happened. He stayed a dear friend, one you'd see every month or so for drinks.

When Hyunjin was drunk, he'd lean on you. This was the only time he ever did, and part of you wished he wouldn't drink when you were together because in his drunken splendor, he'd talk - and you never forgot what he'd say.

"Be my girlfriend."

And every time you'd respond -

"Ask me when you're sober."

He never did. He never really really remembered. The next days were always full off groans and complaints of hangovers, yours included. Even though he'd ask you what happened, you knew those were just drunk words. If he didn't remember in the morning, it couldn't have been real.

It would be a complete lie to assume you never developed anything deeper than friendship-like love for Hyunjin. It was hard not to. But every time you tried to get close, it was like he wanted to pull away. After all these years, it didn't make sense anymore.

Drunk words are - after all - drunk.

"You go first." You closed your eyes, finally feeling one or two drops of soju hitting your spine. It had been too long since you drank this much. It was a miracle you weren't passed out like the others.

Hyunjin laughed once then nothing. He just stared, like he was looking for the words.

"I don't know what to say."

"Oh, come on - " You pushed his shoulder, your head rolling forward. "There has to be something you think you know about me. Anything. Something."

You were close to laying back down on the floor when you suddenly felt Hyunjin's hand on your back, keeping you upright.

You grimaced. "This really is the only time, huh."

He looked at you with concern. "I'm sorry?"

You leaned in closer to him, poking his cheek with your finger. "You always hug the guys. You never hug me! You don't lean on me unless you're drunk - you never get close to me." You giggled, turning your five year long question into sarcastic banter. "How come you never want to touch me, huh?"

"It's not like that." He smiled, poking your pouted lip. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what." You pouted harder. "You never get close to me when you're sober, you never lay a hand on me. You only ask me to be your girlfriend when you're drunk. Why can't you be like that all the time?"

Hyunjin's smile slowly dropped. He looked at you seriously.

"Why, you want to be my girlfriend?"

You stifled a laugh. This was no time to be serious. For once, it looked like you were more drunk than him, and this wasn't the time to get caught up in feelings you always tried to forget. "Shut up. You don't mean it."

"You think I don't want you to my girlfriend?"

You turned your head only for your cheek to meet Hyunin's finger. He kept his finger there, his smile growing again. "You're cute, you know that?"

Pushing his hand away, you released a heavy sigh. "Hwang Hyunjin, I told you before, so I'll say it again. Say these things to me when you're sober. I'm too drunk to deal with you teasing me."

"I'm not drunk." He shrugged. " You guys drank the most, and I have work in the morning. Why would I drink?"

You blinked once. Twice.

"You're being serious. You're not drunk?" Suddenly, you felt very sober.

Hyunjin's smile stretched across his entire face, like he was watching a puppy stumble over its own legs. "I never drink enough to get that drunk. I sober up very quickly - I thought you knew."

"How the hell would I know that?" You sneered. "We always drink together!"

"Yeah, all of us. It's not like you're counting my shots or checking when I stop drinking."

"Then why didn't you ever ask me when you were sober?"

"If you really thought I only wanted you to be my girlfriend because I was drunk, then I thought you really didn't want to." Hyunjin patted your head. "You're always so touchy with the guys. I didn't want to be like everyone else. If you were my girlfriend, I'd get jealous."

"I still can't tell if you're lying - " You poured yourself another shot before lifting the shot glass to your lips, but instead of feeling another stinging kiss of liquid, you just felt the back of Hyunjin's hand, shielding the soju from reaching the edge.

He grabbed the shot and downed it in one easy swig. Placing the glass back down, he sighed. "Fine -"

Hyunjin pulled your face close to his, the taste of soju still glimmering on his lips. A forceful yet deep kiss, he sighed into you before dropping one hand to the back of your neck, the other to your waist. His lips moved slowly but with a hunger. Your head was spinning, but whether it was because of the alcohol or just him you couldn't tell. Squeezing the back of your neck ever so slightly, Hyunjin lowered you down to the floor, suddenly more sober than ever.

He looked at you - but it was like you were looking at him for the first time ever in your life. The apartment suddenly seemed so quiet as his gaze followed your heaving chest, breathless from his kiss.

"Yes, I want you to be my girlfriend." He finally spoke. "But I don't want you to answer until you're sober."

Hyunjin stood up and gathered his things. After what seemed like an hour, you sat up and realized he was gone.

Your head was still spinning - that couldn't have been real.

You hadn't seen Hyunjin in a week.

Not for lack of trying, but whenever you unlocked your phone only to see his name at the top of your notifications, you couldn't help but panic. Yes, you woke up with a hangover the next day, but the memory of that kiss was burned into your brain, and it was the only thing you could think about.

Hyunjin lived at an apartment complex down the street.

You couldn't help but wonder if he'd magically appear in front of you, and then your words would just be caught in your chest.

Look down, look down. Just keep walking.

Ready to enter your apartment, your curiosity peaked. Looking across the way, you spotted him. Standing in front of his apartment.

With a girl?

Blinding fury took over as you made your way over to him. The girl had already walked away, but something in you just said -

"You're such an asshole!" You gave him one hard shove, nearly pushing him over.

Hyunjin laughed once. "Did I miss something?"

"You - and the - she -"

"- is my neighbor. She got my mail by accident." He opened his back to reveal a small package and two envelopes.

You stumbled back, immediately regretting your entire existence.

Hyunjin took two steps toward you as you took two back. "You haven't been answering my texts."

"W-Well, I -" You couldn't find your words let alone remember how to speak. "I just - "

"So are you ready to give me your answer?"

"What answer?"

He leaned in again, cupping your cheek with his hand. Barely grazing your lips with his, Hyunjin teased. You could feel his breath playing over your skin. Gently resting his lips on your forehead, he pulled away with a content grin.

"I won't kiss you again unless it's as your boyfriend."

It took everything in you not to punch him straight in the stomach, so you settled for a hit to the arm. "Why -" and again "- didn't -" and again "- you just -" and once more "- ASK ME."

Hyunjin couldn't hold back in his laughter. "Sue me for getting nervous in front of the girl I like!" He grabbed hold of your hand before lacing his fingers between yours. "Is that a yes?"

"I hate you." You fought back a laugh.

He nodded. Pulling you into his chest, Hyunjin kissed the top of your head.

"I guess that means yes."

155 notes · View notes

fangorl-trash · 4 years ago

Text

In the Dark

The Mandalorian x fem!Reader

Summary: you and din have an intimate bonding moment...in the dark.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: SOFT. SHY. MANDO. uhh... slight mentions of a dark past, but it’s vague af, like not even warning worthy BUT JUST IN CASE LOL. curse words. there’s no smut, but if yall want a part 2, lemme know ;) if i forget anything, lemme know lol

A/N: first of all, this gif makes me FEEL things jfc wow i adore din. secondly, hi there lol! this is definitely a self-indulge piece lmao, but i hope you guys enjoy nonetheless! i can promise there are no season 2 spoilers, cause i’d like to think it takes place between the two seasons. aaaand this was all based off a brainrot hour i had (you can read it here, if you really want!) so...yeah lmao. Enjoy y’all! :)

The night before was just like any other night. Chuckles and giggles and stories whispered and shared back and forth. Hands itching to get closer, to connect wholeheartedly, but never having the courage to do so. The calm before tomorrow’s storm of bounty hunting.

A small, yellow-tinted light above the shared cot illuminated the two. She thought he looked like a guardian angel, the way it shone off of his armor dully. He thought she looked like a goddess, the soft light giving her a halo.

They were hopelessly in love.

Y/N and the Mandalorian. A dynamic duo, of sorts. Two different puzzle pieces from two different puzzle sets, yet they somehow fit together perfectly. She loved him for his tenacity, his fierceness in battle, and his big heart he only showed to her. He loved her for her kindness, her empathy, and the way her eyes sparkled when he came back to the ship after a long day.

They were hopelessly in love with one another, yet neither has said it. Maybe to both of them, saying it was not enough; the actions and moments shared between the two was what truly defined it all. The way he purchased antique books for her to read, because she mentioned it once. The way she grabbed extra blankets from the closet because he got cold at night easily.

The night before was just like any other night. It was calm and quiet and pleasant; almost too pleasant for Din’s liking. In the line of work of a Mandalorian, pleasant never lasted long. But Maker, he swore that time stopped when he saw you that next morning.

When he looked over to see your sleeping form, his breath hitched in his throat. The yellow light above you was dim, but showcased your features brightly and beautifully. You laid on your side, arm tucked under your ear and other hand laid at your side. Your hair fell over your forehead and cheeks.

You looked like a dream.

His gloved hand reached out and tucked a strand or two behind your ear, so he could see his beautiful girl. After all you’ve been through...you were still Y/N and Din. Din and Y/N.

A feeling of gratitude overcame him suddenly as he gazed upon your angelic form. You deserved everything good in this world. The prettiest of jewels, that sparkled in the starlight. The largest of feasts with your favorite intergalactic meals and beverages. Whatever novel that you craved to read next.

He would go to the ends of the galaxy for you. Anything to see that smile.

He prayed everything he did for you was enough, even if it was all so small and minute. You deserved so much better than what he was giving you.

His gratitude took a negative, insecure turn. He knew what you really wanted, what you really deserved that he couldn’t give you: physical love. He can’t kiss you. He can’t hold you. He can’t look in your eyes and tell you how much you meant to him.

He thought of himself as selfish. He wanted all of those things and more. He wanted to feel your lips against his. He wanted to look in your eyes, and your eyes only. He wanted to hold you close without beskar separating you. He wanted to feel your skin against his fingertips, because holy fuck, you just look so soft and so fucking warm.

With a soft sigh, his leather-clad fingertips brush down your cheek and over the curve of your arm. Dank farrik...what he would do to hold you. Hold you properly.

Something clicked in his brain all of a sudden. Why is he being such a pussy? He’s THE Mandalorian, for Maker’s sake. He knows just the solution.

~~~

That night, you dreamed of your past life. Before you met Din. Before you both met the Child. Though your dream wasn’t a nightmare, it was still dark and dull. You honestly couldn’t wait until it was all over.

And then you felt lips on the inside of your wrist. Slightly chapped and slightly wet, with small hairs tickling you as well. A gentle hold on your fingers. The kisses slowly trailed up the inside of your forearm, curving against your elbow before continuing their trek up the rest of your arm to your shoulder. It tickles, you thought, shifting under the stranger’s hold.

Your eyes fluttered open with a soft groan. A blanket of pitch black overwhelmed your vision. Panic struck your heart. What in the world is going on right now?

“Good morning,” a voice spoke, breath fanned across your exposed shoulder. Shy, but certain. A low grovel, but not due to a helmet’s voice amplifier.

“D...Din,” you mumbled, fingers grasping his tightly. Your heart skipped a beat at the feeling of...of him. “Wh-What...what’s going on? I-I can’t see.”

He took a pause. “I turned off the lights.” Another pause. “I just...wanted to...”

Even though his voice trailed off, you knew exactly what he wanted to say.

This was new territory for the both of you. Neither of you were scared, per say, but...nervous, cautious. Your voice and your actions matched how you felt. After you sat up and crossed your legs, you reached out with your vacant hand on bated breath. “M-May I?” You requested quietly, hesitatingly. Your eyes scanned about, but you couldn’t find him within the dark ahead of you, even though you were barely a foot apart.

You learned that in certain situations Din’s silence meant yes.

Your fingers made purchase with his bicep, but you backed away just as quickly as you touched him.

Okay, so maybe you were scared. Just a little.

You both sat there silently, slowly counting the moments before one of you made a move. The ship thrummed around you two, but the blacked out bunker was quiet overall. After the bounty hunter released a shallow breath, he lifted the hand that held yours, bringing it to his cheek with a Din-like grace and sureness. A smile stretched both of your lips at the feeling; the feeling of you actually touching. Wholeheartedly Connecting.

His stubble was a pleasant surprise. It felt scratchy under your soft fingertips, but it felt...it all felt like home. Your fingers cupped the back of his neck tenderly, your thumb brushing against his cheekbone. His own fingers brushed against your left upper arm and shoulder delicately, feeling your goosebumps rise slowly as he brushes against the strap of your tank top.

You shuffled a bit closer to Din, now in between his open and bent legs. You didn’t know you were holding your breath in until you let it out, shaky and soft. His own breath reached your forehead, delicate and quiet. Your other hand lifted up, hand finding its place on his chest. Once again, you were pleasantly surprised to touch his bare skin; soft and warm to the touch. Your fingertips yearned to travel, and before you could stop your curious thoughts, your middle and ring fingers brushed against a rough scar. It was a jagged, diagonal line, only about three inches in length. Dry, scabbed-over skin, a story untold. You suspected he had battle scars galore, but actually feeling one was...shocking.

The reality of this man’s career suddenly hit you like a shot from a blaster. This man...this man that you loved.

How many of these untold stories were near deaths? How many stories would have ended without Din back in your arms?

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat before your fingers continued their journey, a confident spark behind their actions. They ventured across his beautiful canvas, blindingly mapping out the divets, marks, and bruises of his skin. Your hands gripped and caressed at his shoulders and arms, your fingers brushed against his cheeks and jaw. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, and the banging of his heartbeat. You couldn’t help but smile at that. Other than the fingers on your arm, Din remained unmoving under your touch; if he was being honest, he had no clue what to do.

You finally smiled as you felt his hair, fisting tufts of it gently. It was coarse and curly, but you didn’t mind. “What color is it?” Your voice was hoarse, crackling softly in the dark room.

“Brown,” he said after a moment, a small smile of his own. His own fingers made their way up your arm, past your shoulder, and cupped the back of your neck like you did to him. His pointer finger rubbed back and forth in a small motion, a small habit the bounty hunter grew over the months. It was...very different, to feel you under his touch like this. He’s held your hand and stroked your hair and cupped the back of your neck tenderly, but..touching you this way was new territory for the Mandalorian. It was scary, in a way, especially for him.

He ventured on with a brave face.

His other hand found it’s way to your calf, slowly and carefully kneading the skin. You wondered if this was the first time he’s...he’s felt skin since he was a child. You wondered what he was thinking in the moment, if he thought you were beautiful or not. You dismissed those thoughts to the best of your ability. This was your moment, and you’ll be damned if your own brain ruined it. His hand cupped the back of your knee, his whole chest craning down to press a sweet peck to your knee cap. His eyes closed for a brief moment, embracing the feeling of your skin on his lips in the brief moment they were in contact. A shiver ran up your spine; now you remained unmoving, frozen solid by Din’s hot, pillowy lips against your skin. His hand then trailed up the outside of your thigh to your hip. He skirted over your cotton shorts to your waist, gently caressing...you.

He thought you felt enchanting under his touch. You were absolutely perfect. And he loved you so much.

Nerves pierced his heart. His small smile fell. He lifted his hand to cup your other cheek, both of his thumbs brushing along your cheekbones. Your hands stopped in their tracks, the nape of his neck under one palm and his right shoulder under the other. “Can I...may I...”

You didn’t let him finish. The way you leaned in was carefully calculated, nerves an underlying color of it all. Din sat straight-backed, unmoving once again. He was so scared to mess this up for you. I mean...your first kiss shared. He imagined how much that meant to you. It meant a lot to him, too.

You proceeded to lean forward until your lips were pressed against his as your eyes fluttered close. Just as quickly as you two connected, you were apart once again. A small and short kiss, a test for you both. Din leaned forward this time, without anymore hesitation, capturing your lips as he pulled your body into his.

You weren’t surprised Din’s first real kiss was going to be...well...Din-like. Methodical. Purposeful. Caring underneath all of the layers. You were surprised at the fact that Din’s first kiss felt...like destiny. Like this moment was written in prophecies years ago, and it’ll be written in history texts for years to come.

You were surprised because his lips moved against yours like he knew what he was doing.

Your arms found their way wound around his neck, and his wound around your waist. His kiss was patient and sweet and really fuckin’ good. His mustache tickled your top lip, but you didn’t mind one bit.

Right before he pulled away, his cheeks quirked into a smile against your lips before falling to their neutral state.

“I, um...” you began, eyes sparkling in the darkness. You wondered if his baby browns shone the same way, tracing your figure in the darkness. Even though you had so much to say, your voice became stuck, lodged deep in your throat. Tears sprung to your eyes.

He did this for you, didn’t he? He turned off the lights in your guys’ bunker. He took off his helmet. He...he kissed you. Dank farrik, he just kissed you. And he let you touch his hair and his face and...him.

Even though the pair of you weren’t doing anything particularly sexual, every bit of this moment that you shared in the dark felt more intimate and vulnerable than you could ever hope for, dream for, ask for.

The cotton in your mouth expanded slowly, ridding you silent and helpless in the arms of the man you loved. Of the man you would sacrifice everything for. Does he feel the same? Would he do the same for you? A tear tugged down the apple of your cheek as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around him tighter. You sniffled softly as his hands caressed your back and hips.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He questions, holding you close to his chest. His right hand rubbed small circles in your back and he sat patiently awaiting your response, but the cotton continued to expand into your mouth.

“I...I, uh...” You begged the cotton to be rid, you prayed for your tongue to move and say the words. The three words that have been dancing around the two of you day and night, for months now, being said over and over again in your mind.

Somehow, Din knew what you were going to say. He was positive you could hear his rapid heartbeat, but if you did, you didn’t show it. He craned his neck down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Then, he leaned down to your ear and kissed your lobe, his breath hot against your skin. The lumps in your throat melted away.

“I love you,” you finally said.

The buzzing energy in the bunker seemed to still and quicken all at once. The humming you heard before silenced. Din pulled you closer to his chest, his arms tightening their grip around you. He didn’t say anything for awhile; you were sure he fell back asleep, leaving your confession unheard.

“I love you too,” he said.

You couldn’t see his eyes or his mouth forming the words. But you could feel his love, feel his dedication for you. Under his fingertips, in his arms. It was all love for you. Tears returned to your eyes. You hugged him even tighter, burying your face into his shoulder even more. Anything to bring him closer to you. Anything to feel him more.

The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like hours. You actually fell back asleep, filled with more content and love than ever before. Din put you back to bed quietly and carefully, tucking you under the wool blanket you pulled from the closet the night before. He lifted one hand to cup your cheek, craning his neck to plant a lingering kiss on your other.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t want to get back in his armor. He wanted to lay here, beside you, mask off and lights on. He wanted to see your smile as his eyes reached yours. Responsibility tugged at his heart and his brain. He knew what he had to do, what he was born to do, even if he hated it in this very moment. This is the way.

When you woke up again, you were alone in a dimly lit bunker. A hefty sigh fell past your lips. Maybe it was all a dream. You touched your lips with the pad of your fingers as your eyes fluttered close. You thought to yourself, if it was a dream, then why did his lips feel so real?

You changed into your normal garb and climbed out of the bunker. After lacing up your boots, you climbed the ladder into the cockpit. Like every morning, the Mandalorian was at the helm and the Child was in his designated seat. Din pressed buttons and steered the Razor Crest stoically, and the youngling played with his small metal ball. You approached the child with a smile and a pat to his head, in which he gurgled and grinned at your touch.

You then walked over to the Mandalorian’s right side, boots slowly and softly padding against the metal floor. His head remains forward, even when you place your left hand on his shoulder. Cotton fills your mouth again. What are you even supposed to say?

It takes you a moment before words form on your tongue. “Thank you,” you say softly. “I...I care for you...a lot. I...I love you. And I appreciate you. Thank you.”

His head turns now, looking right at you. You wondered if his baby browns were looking into your eyes right now, calculating what to say and what to do. Din lifts his left, gloved hand to your cheek. Underneath the leather, you can feel his warm, delicate touch that you were able to feel this morning.

“Anything for you, my love.”

#athena writes #the mandalorian #mando #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x y/n #mando x reader #mando x y/n #star wars #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n

269 notes · View notes

remsmoonlight · 3 years ago

Text

— title : point of view

— word count : 3k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : tomorrow is something that is never promised, less so when the dead walk the Earth. being trapped for the night when a storm pours down upon you and daryl while trapped in a decrepit house by a few walkers are you sick and tired of hiding what you feel.

— warnings : some swearing, talk of potential death ( of the reader ) , a wee bit of angst that turned into more at the end :)

note: omg another daryl oneshot i gotta chill ajksajksk, but i had like seven main bullet points i made to follow when writing this and i followed like...... two, three at the most, anyways.... enjoy? this is brought to u by ariana’s discography lmao oops it does be cute at some point tho ... also felt a bit hsm with that one line at the end ahaha but fr lemme stop talking now

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requests are open ! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Dark and gloomy clouds swirl over your head, blending into an extremely large and angry looking ready to descend from above. You wonder to yourself just how long you have left before the loud cracks that crumble through the air to accompany the forceful winds and pouring drops of rain are finally released. Halfway through the trip back from the town that lays after miles from the prison the car used decided it preferred to lay quietly in the middle of the road, shortly after the sickly sputters from the engine you heard Daryl mutter a few curse words. You were unable to hold in your amusement, despite the fact that a lack of transport obviously leaves you in a vulnerable position, it felt like it was your luck for that to happen to you.

It’s why you stay behind following the hunter in silence.

Studying him with focused eyes you can’t help but wonder how he never realises when you’re unable to tear your gaze away from him. In the beginning when you began to develop a certain affection for him you had been glad, for it to be too embarrassing for the thoughts you had about him in your head. In spite of this, when you realised that it was much more than a crush did you wish for him to mind read, because you have no idea just how to approach him about such a sensitive topic and while he can be tender about feelings, it’s also his downfall.

“ it’ll be gettin’ dark soon, there should be some houses down there to spend the night in. “

You stop in your tracks with a curious look that bled so suddenly into your features you had no time to stop it.

“ you don’t want to carry on? I mean, we’re not far from home? “ you question him with a hint of fear coddling your words.

“ we’d be trippin’ over our feet. Let’s back it back in one piece, yeh? “

Nodding, you regain your pace. It’s been a few months since you’d been hopping from one house to the other during that harsh winter, the bare thought of having to stay in yet another frail structure sent a chilly hand drawing its claws deeply up your spine. If you never had your group, you don’t think you would have made a winter like that, barely protected from the elements and the walkers that wished to plunge their teeth cavernously into your flesh.

“ as long as we leave as soon as the sun comes up. Please. “ you plead, your words filter off into a gentle volume from your position.

Leaves crumble and buckle underneath the weight, the sound of crickets dominate your surroundings as the two of you walk in silence. You itch to start a conversation, but the fear of distracting the man and annoying withhold the words that wish to fall from your lips, even then you don’t know how to begin. What would you say? There’s not much to talk about in a world where the dead have risen, where they wish to drag the world into decomposition.

Your wandering mind is pulled from its very own depths from a noise coming from Daryl, he’d turned to catch your attention. You both set to work attempting to enter any of the abandoned houses, hoping one had been left unlocked at some point.

Of course, luck is scarce. Despite there not being a soul who occupies them, they’re still somehow locked. Mournfully, you wonder if the owners of these homes had thought the governments and armies would eventually lock everything under their control, to the point that there would be a house for them to come back to? Your heart thuds painfully in your chest to think about what happened to them, and if they’re even still surviving.

A large thud draws you back to the present, the wooden door splinters at the force Daryl puts into a large kick to its frame.

“ well, there goes the lock. “ you mutter humourously, lifting the heavy bag higher up onto your shoulders as you walk in the open door.

“ we’ll put the couch there, stop any unfriendly types that come our way. “

“ I don’t know if there’s anyone left anymore. “ you reply, dropping the bag to the floor and moving towards the couch.

Situated on the other side of it, you grip the plush handle and lift with a struggle. It’s a strain to get it through the doorway to turn it around the corner, but eventually it happens. Daryl is joined by your presence by his side, you both push ⏤ this time it’s an easier feat with two of you on one side to dedicate your strength and weight to advance it.

As soon as you finish, a heavy crackle cuts through the air.

“ we got here just in time, huh? “

“ just about. “ he answers you, sparing a glance before moving through the lower floor ⏤ searching for anything that can be taken back to the prison.

Thunderstorms had never been your favourite thing growing up. Of course, rain was something that calmed you from the anxieties life brought, but the thunder and lightning is what you loathed. Never knowing when you were about to receive a fright from the loud rumbles and flashing lights ruined the whole experience for you.

The rustling Daryl makes is the only thing that brings you comfort in this moment, keeping you grounded and away from your thoughts. It doesn’t escape your notice that these houses feel no more than graveyards with the memories that have no use to live, instead haunting the structures with what could have been had chaos and death not taken over. You climb the stairs, hugging your sides as you refuse to touch the handrail leading up stairs.

There is a middle room with access granted without having to push open the door to gain entry. Your eyes scan the room’s interior, even with the dust and grime that bespeckle its surfaces, you can still see its beauty. Now, who does that remind you of? Your mind cheekly thinks before you banish it into the shadows of your brain, where you know it will force itself out with an immense stubbornness.

Despite the thunder booming in the distance frequently, you can’t help but admire the beauty of rain drops falling to the ground with a dainty grace only it holds. The sky continues to grow dimmer, only seeing the rain on your level and lower, no street lights flood the street to aid you in being able to see torrent from above. Jumping at another roar of sound from the storm, your heart begins to pick up its pace, so much you don’t realise Daryl joining you in the room.

“ scared? “

Turning around with such speed that leaves you surprised whiplash did not greet you, Daryl is left smirking at your reaction.

“ yeah, I hate these things. “ you respond, a bitterness coating each word heavily as you speak.

“ more than walkers? “ he questions you, as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“ well, I suppose not that much .. “ another clap of thunder interrupts you, the rain beating harder and harder on the windows of the bedroom. “ can we talk about anything? This shit really grates on my nerves. “

“ what y’wanna talk about? “

Your mind stalls, with the previous thoughts that had been swirling in a state of disorder your draw a blank. A continuous thump downstairs interrupts your shrug, speeding down the stairs you realise a few walkers are trying to enter the property, of course their lack of intelligence fails to realise they’re throwing themselves into the walls and not the blocked doors.

“ shall we take them out? “ moving closer to the lengthy curtained window next to the door to get a better look, you can see three walkers hauling themselves mindlessly against the structure.

“ nah, the storm’ll get ‘em soon enough. “ he shakes his head softly, your mind taking note of the lack of proximity between your bodies as he repeats your action. “ no need to risk ourselves. “

“ wouldn’t be the first time you’ve risked your life. “

“ s’nothin. “ he contradicts gruffly, wiping a finger across his nose at your words. He truly doesn’t view it as that, refusing to think of it as risking his life. To Daryl, it doesn’t feel like risking everything to help the people around him, it’s not something he can find the words to explain but all he knows if there’s a chance, he would do it again and again.

“ Daryl Dixon, so humble. “ you speak warmly with a gentle smile threading itself into your features. “ you need to give yourself more credit. “

“ stop. “

“ you’re as brave as anyone in the group. I’d say braver than Rick. “ you joke, setting yourself from the entryway to the sitting room. “ although, if I had to choose you and Carol .. I’m sorry, but Carol every time! “

“ damn woman frightens me. “

Laughter light in weight dances airily between you with an elegance in its movement. For even a fraction of a second you forget that there are walkers that are itching to break through into the property, that there’s an angry storm that threatens to demolish whatever stands in its path, because right now it’s only you both here and now in this one room.

“ she’s come a long way. “ you agree, pulling a lone chocolate bar from your bag. Your favourite and you’re thanking the universe that it hasn’t spoiled yet. Turns out all these preservatives and chemicals have some use after all you note to yourself as half is offered to the man standing across from you.

“ so have ‘yuh. “ he acknowledges, taking the broken half of the candy from you.

“ I think we all have to be honest. I don’t think any one of us are the people we used to be. “

“ now who’s humble? “ Daryl asks, his tone light in relaxed merriment. He’d long since taken note of the transformation you’d gone through, he’s never seen you so strong as a person before.

“ don’t you turn this round on me, Dixon. “

The two of you fall silent, you direct your gaze to the window and the raindrops that litter the window pane’s surface. The harsh noises thundered no more, leaving a calm pitter of precipitation to fall with no interruption. From your position on the second couch, you wrap around a thin decorational blanket around your arms, leaning your cheek against the palm of your hand.

Pretending the world hasn’t gone to hell, that it’s just a normal evening where you’re admiring the scene before you. Skies that weep heavily is what the Georgian greenery has been calling out for, especially since the warmer temperatures have returned in full force. Switching your line of sight to Daryl, you feel a mellowness in the pit of your stomach as you watch him fondly. You can’t be sure if it’s the lack of distractions or eyes from your group, but you feel a miniscule spark of confidence within your confines.

“ come sit down, you can relax for a bit. “ you call, trying to convince him lightly. Your hand moves to pat the seat next to you.

“ can’t relax in this world. “ despite the disagreement in his words he does move towards your position on the plush seat.

“ it doesn’t mean we can’t make it. Otherwise we’d be burnt out, I’d hate to see that happen to you. “ You divulge as you reply to him, little inklings of hope in your tone.

“ y’don’t gotta worry ‘bout me. “

“ but I do, Daryl. “ you groan as a dull glumness contorts your features into something new. “ I mean, the lengths you go to .. you scare me to death. “

“ don’t be dumb. “ Daryl warns lowly as he shakes his head, few have shared their vulnerability with him. Perhaps only Carol, his mind can’t wrap itself around the fact that people genuinely care for him. Growing up, he’d been taught of it as a weakness. Something that should not exist, no one cared when he went missing for a short while as a child, and now having people who show him the opposite? It leaves a strange feeling to settle within his heart.

“ please, I need to tell you. I mean, I might not even be here tomorrow. “

“ nah, don’t say that. Y’will. “ he argues, he doesn’t even want to entertain the notion of not seeing you even for a day ⏤ let alone forever.

Truthfully, you’d not been particularly close. He understands it now, he pushed everyone away wherever he had the chance to. But after the downfall of the farm? You wouldn’t let up in trying to forge bonds that could rival even the strongest of metals. You had no idea, but he’d overheard you talking to Beth one day. When you said you didn’t want to be afraid of living, to have something worth dying for. That struck him deep.

“ neither you or I can guarantee that. Now, call me selfish but I can’t die with what ifs in my brain. “ you explain, you know it’s probably selfish to announce any kind of fondness for a person nowadays, because you can be ripped from their existence without any kind of announcement. But if you were to depart from the realm of the living, you’d want to have affectionate memories to experience and for them to look back on.

“ what y’sayin? “

Your eyes well up in frustration, whether it’s over the way you find the words are hiding beneath your tongue like cowards under the cloak of night or over the fact that you have begun this topic of conversation, backing yourself into a corner. There’s so much you want to say but how you should is not coming easy. Eloquence in your words is something you find yourself yearning for with all of your being should it bring you a happy ending to this discussion.

This isn’t a fairytale, there’s no happy or bad endings in real life you sorely think. There’s just reality, and the conclusions for that are neither black or white.

Fingertips grip the roots of your hair for a fleeting moment before letting go as if you’d never clutched them in exasperation at all.

Shutting your eyes so hard they hurt, you muster up the courage to speak the truth you’ve locked away in your heart, allowing it the light it has been deprived of for so long.

“ Daryl, I ⏤ “ your voice shuts off with a painful sound, sighing as if to psych yourself up. “ I feel more for you than I probably should. “

When Daryl says nothing, you open your eyes. Your entire being preparing yourself for the worse answer, this moment may hurt now but the pain will lessen. At least your soul feels lighter with the hidden information no longer chained to it as a burden, no longer will it have to be weighed down by its mass.

“ I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but I couldn’t keep it in any longer. “

“ who said I didn’t wanna hear? “

“ ⏤ what ? “ you question, your brows falling lower as you squint in disbelief. You wonder if your brain is forming a false memory to protect itself later on.

“ y’don’t nothin’ to do with me though. “ he hesitates, the automatic response to push away anything good that comes his way to the furthest reaches. “ nothin’ but trouble. “

A sorrowful smile full of grief clouds your features, your unshed tears threaten to fall. If only he could see himself from your point of view, he doesn’t see just how admirable of a human being he is. Yes, he has his flaws but who doesn’t? In all of humanity, you don’t think there has ever been a perfect person, but it’s how they approach their downsides that shows the peak of their humanity, that they don’t let the darkness fester in their heart, to poison their soul into becoming a shell of a kind hearted person. That shows the strength of their character.

Daryl? You feel honoured to have been a first hand witness to see him turn from a hot ball of anger to a softer, kinder soul.

“ Daryl, you really don’t see what I do.” you forsake everything, leaning forwards and laying your hands across his. Taking in the immense warmth from them. “ That? It hurts me, because you’re rather amazing. “

Saying nothing, Daryl looks down at your intertwined hands. He wants the chance that’s being offered, though the fear of being the one who poisons everything he lays his touch upon settles heavily on his shoulder. No one has come out unscarred when dealing with a member of the Dixon family, his family tree being nothing more than toxic, with weeds that wrap around the limbs of the poor fool who got involved with them, as they drag them to their lowly depths. He doesn’t know how to let go of the past and for this he continues to pay, with the high price being his happiness in the present world. No response leaves his lips, for the first time in a long time he doesn’t know what to say, while knowing what he wants to say. It’s not until he feels arms wrapped around the top of his shoulders is he brought back down to Earth, a shudder of a breath is released from him as he realises what is going on. The action is reciprocated in earnest, you’re full of gratitude that he’s accepting your comfort ⏤ knowing it could have been a gamble of a decision, a fifty fifty chance of him reacting negatively or positively. You, too, draw comfort from the position you both find yourself, clutching the other. Hope dawns on your heart, knowing Daryl is not a particularly affectionate man. This means a lot, for it’s a leap for you both.

“ thank you. “ he whispers in the night. You know that this is the start of something new.

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl imagine #twd imagine #the walking dead imagine #twd oneshot #daryl oneshot

67 notes · View notes

writer-ish · 4 years ago

Note

Hello there! 🙂 Could you please do number 10 from the "Touching" prompts, for Mason and the Detective please? 😊 Thanks!!

prompt: spooning at night pairing: mason x detective (grace bennett) word count: 2.4k | rating: T cw: panic attack, mention of trauma (book 1 related) author note: write a prompt less than 2k words challenge? failed. thank you @silma-words for the prompt! hope you like it. ☾☾ touching prompts

It had started with a light pattering of rain against the window panes.

Light rain is okay. Grace can handle light rain.

She doesn’t love it - especially not at night - but if it’s not torrential, if there’s no lightning or thunder, she can usually force herself to drink some tea, grab a book, and ignore it before falling into a restless sleep.

Light rain is okay.

The problem arises when, halfway through reading the same page for the fifth time, her tea already cold and missing only a sip or two, the rain picks up.

She gets up and pulls her curtains together tightly, but it doesn’t help. Even if she can’t see it, she can still hear it, the heavy slap of rain against the windows, steadily increasing in its ferocity.

Her hands begin to feel clammy and her breathing picks up.

You’re being so stupid, she tells herself, even as she feels deafened by the pounding of her own heart.

This visceral response to thunderstorms - rain, she reminds herself, it's just rain for now - is yet another fun side effect that has lingered since her encounter with Murphy all those months ago.

She tries not to dwell on those moments - the ones where she was certain she was going to die, the ones where she was dying - where the rain pounding on the roof of the warehouse, thunder splitting the sky, was the only discernible sound amidst the chaos.

But at home, alone, with only the rain and a tepid, useless cup of tea to keep her company, it’s difficult to think of anything else.

She paces a bit. Tries to get ready for bed. Lies down on top of the covers, hugging one of her decorative pillows close - the one that has a soft pink fabric designed to look like flower petals all over it, the one Mason hates probably the most - and the entire time the rain beats harder and harder against the few window panes in her small apartment until she feels like the glass might shatter from the force of it.

Her breath is coming in short, quick gasps now and no matter what she does, she can't get her heartrate to slow down. A numbness has begun to spread from her hands upward.

Am I having a heart attack? she wonders, semi-hysterically. Her chest feels tight, painfully so, but she can't tell if it's because of her breathing or not. The scar on her neck tingles sharply and her pulse feels like it might actually burst out from that spot.

At that moment, a clap of thunder reverberates through her walls.

Grace lets out a short scream and the pain in her chest intensifies.

Thunderstorms have been bad for her before, but never this bad.

Oh shit oh fuck, she thinks, it is a fucking heart attack. I'm having a fucking heart attack. Shit shit shit.

Her hands have gone completely cold, the tingling numbness persistent and all-consuming.

She staggers out of bed, black spots flashing in front of her eyes as her breathing worsens, all intakes and almost no exhales, while her sense of dread increases.

I'm going to die, she realizes in dawning horror. I'm going to die here, alone.

The thought is untenable. A collection of faces flashes before her eyes—Tina, her mom, Nate, the rest of Unit Bravo, Mason, Mason, Mason—

She staggers to her nightstand and grabs her phone, pressing the contact for the most recent number she'd called.

He answers on the first ring. “Hey, Gracie, we were just—“

“Nate,” she wheezes out, a sob caught in her throat.

She hears a clatter on the other end, maybe the sound of someone standing up abruptly. There’s a ruckus—voices clamouring.

“Gracie, what’s wrong?” Nate’s voice is urgent, inflected with a ribbon of steel that she barely registers as unusual. “Where are you?”

The voices behind him are getting louder.

“What’s happening?”

“What’s she saying?”

“What the fuck—”

“I’m—home,” she rasps, her heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of her chest. The room is spinning. “I don’t know—what—” What’s happening to me, she completes the thought in her mind, her ability to speak slowly dwindling.

“Something’s wrong with Grace,” she can hear Nate say to whoever he’s with. “I don’t think there's anyone else there, but something has happened—no, Mason, just wait—”

The phone clatters to the ground from Grace's numb fingers and she squeezes her eyes shut tightly as she sinks to the floor. The sound of Nate's voice coming from the receiver feels far away now. She's experiencing an odd sensation, like she's floating above her body, witnessing what's going on down below, and she wonders if that means she's dead.

Minutes pass, and suddenly there's a massive commotion at her front door. She startles, her whole body jerking in horror as she imagines the thunder and lightning from outside entering her home.

A dark figure suddenly appears in her bedroom doorway and swoops towards her and she lets out a pained gasp, her throat unable to emit anything louder than that.

"It's me," the figure says, its voice gruff and familiar, and she's so relieved she almost sobs. "It's me, sweetheart."

She feels herself being lifted up easily, gently, and cradled tight against a recognizable chest. Her heartrate decelerates ever so slightly, though her breathing is still ragged and short.

Mason carries her back to her bed, placing her down gently. His hair and his clothes are wet and the cold feel of his sleeve, the drops of water on her neck and arms, help as she settles.

She briefly registers the way he flings her pillows until each one smacks against the wall in a satisfying thwack of dismissal. When he goes to remove his other hand from her, she grips his arms tighter.

"No—" she wheezes, feeling the tears in her eyes spill over belatedly onto her cheeks.

"Hang on," he responds hoarsely, disentangling himself as he runs his hands over her arms, torso, legs, "I'm just checking you for—"

She shakes her head. "It's not that. I'm—okay." Not injured, she means, though she can't convey that to him because she can't control her breaths.

Her lungs begin to ache with the effort, her body trembling, although the overwhelming sense of dread, the certainty that this was the end, that has faded.

"Hey, hey, hey." He places his hand on her upper chest, his palm large and warm, a steady and comforting presence. "Just breathe."

She shakes her head, gulping air, the tears coming faster now. "Can't… can't."

"Hey." He leans forward looking at her intently and a sense of calm begins to permeate her body, starting from her head and working her way down. Her lungs expand fully for the first time in what feels like hours and she's able to release the entire breath in a motion that's not entirely shaky.

She grips his damp forearm tightly, his hand still resting on her chest as she takes a few other deep breaths. The feeling she had before, the lack of control, the fear, slowly fades until it's just a whisper of discomfort behind her eyes. Even the rain feels distant now; maybe it's passing.

"Is she okay?"

A new voice comes from the doorway, deep and resonant. Grace recognizes it immediately, even in her haze.

“Nate?” she asks, hoarsely.

“Yeah. Nate.” There's something odd in Mason's tone and Grace's eyes snap to his face. He's looking away, his expression indiscernible, but his thumb still strokes the bare skin under her collarbone gently.

Turning to the other agent in the doorway, he says, "She's okay. Tell the others. I got this."

Nate nods briefly, catching Grace's eyes with a warm smile, before turning and leaving the room. She can hear muffled conversation in the other room before the front door opens and then closes again.

She looks back at Mason. "You all came?"

He shrugs. "You called."

Her eyes well up again, her emotions too close to the surface to properly withstand the news that the entirety of Unit Bravo all came rushing to her at the first sign of any trouble.

Mason tsks, bringing his hand up to the base of her neck and applying the barest of pressure before removing it completely.

"Stop."

She closes her eyes and nods, lips quavering only slightly. She brings the heels of her hands up to her eyes and grinds them in, willing the emotions back as she continues to take deep, bracing breaths, in and out.

"What happened?" Mason asks softly after a moment.

Grace, heels of her hands still in her eye sockets, shrugs.

"I'm an idiot?" she offers, voice slightly watery.

He's silent and she can't even see his expression to determine whether or not he agrees.

The silence stretches and she recognizes that he's giving her time to sort through her feelings. Taking a few more deep breaths, she removes her hands from her eyes and looks at him, blinking until he's no longer blurry. He's sitting on the edge of her bed, one hand braced in the soft, quilted duvet, the other resting on his black jeans. His long sleeve tee is the same familiar deep red it usually is, his top buttons undone as though he'd dressed hastily. The crystal he always wears seems to glow with its own preternatural light, coming from within.

"It's the rain," she says finally, softly. "I can't…" She takes a deep breath. "I have a hard time when it's stormy out, ever since everything that happened with Murphy."

Mason stares at her assessingly, eyes narrowed in a grumpy concern that was so characteristic of him she wanted to cry again.

"It's probably rained over a dozen times since then," he says eventually, eyes still narrowed, the silver-grey highlighted by a thin sliver of moonlight peeking in through the blinds she hadn't managed to close all the way.

She nods, understanding what he's getting at. "I…have always found it difficult. But I can manage it by myself, usually." She sighs shakily. "This time was…different."

"Why?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe the news about the trappers. Maybe just stress, I—"

"No," he interrupts her, waving away her words. "Why do you manage it by yourself?"

"I—" She looks at him in surprise, unable to form an answer. Because I always have? Because I don't know how else to manage things? Because I don't want to bother you, when we haven't even defined what we are. Instead of saying any of that, she simply shrugs.

"Call Nate sooner next time." He gets up and stretches and her eyes are immediately drawn to the band of freckled, umber skin that is revealed as his shirt rides up. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Wait—" She looks at him perplexed. "You're not—staying?" His other words register suddenly. "And why would I call Nate?"

He shrugs, hands in his pockets as he looks down, a dark lock of hair tumbling over his eye.

Understanding dawns slowly. Nate had been the person she'd called when she'd been in the midst of—whatever that was.

She'd called him because he'd been at the top of her call list.

He was at the top of her call list, because earlier that day she'd had a research question and she'd called him to chat for a bit.

Nate is easy to talk to on the phone. Nate is easy to talk to, period.

Her and Mason, on the other hand—

Her and Mason communicate mainly in their silences.

Through touch, through knowing glances, through all the things they don't need to say. A quirk of an eyebrow or a smirk is all it takes sometimes for understanding to pass between them.

Phone calls aren't really in their repertoire. Grace isn't even sure he knows how to text.

She reaches out suddenly, grasping his hand, warm and rough between hers.

"Stay," she says quietly. "I want you here."

Not Nate, she clarifies in a way that she hopes he understands, her lips pressing together apologetically.

He narrows a glance at her, his expression softening almost unwillingly and in small increments.

With a quiet sigh, he allows her to pull him closer. She kneels on the bed and he looks down at her, hands cradling her jaw and his thumbs stroking her cheeks. He draws them over her eyelids, traces the sensitive skin under eyes, passes them gently over her lips.

“No more storms alone, got it?”

She nods. “I promise.” She places her hand over his heart and looks up at him.

He nods as well, briefly, understanding passing through them once more in the silence, as his eyes take in the room before meeting hers again.

"Let's get you to bed, yeah?"

She nods, suddenly feeling how overwhelmingly tired she actually is. Her whole body sags, sapped of whatever frenetic energy was fueling it before. Despite her exhaustion, she still takes note of how he made a bed reference with no innuendo whatsoever. Simply the soft, gruff tone she's come to understand as his concern.

Still, she can't help but joke, if only to ease the awkward-borne tension of their poorly defined relationship: "Sorry if I'm not up for the usual—"

"Shut it." He cuts her off swiftly, pinching her chin with his forefinger and middle finger gently. "I'm not in the mood for your nonsense."

She leans back to look up at him indignantly, only to feel her ire fade away as she sees the teasing smirk on his lips.

"Only sleeping," he confirms. "Come on."

He throws back her covers and she snuggles under, watching as he removes his boots and jeans before joining her.

Immediately, he yanks her towards him, the curve of her back and her bottom fitting perfectly into the concave line of his chest and thighs. She feels the hair on his legs tickling the backs of hers and she tucks her cold feet between his ankles.

He hisses at the feeling and she laughs softly, already yawning. She clutches his hand in hers and brings his arm, wrapped around her stomach, higher up her chest until she's cradling it against her, his knuckles skimming her chin. He smells clean, like soap and fresh tobacco, and it's a smell that is so uniquely Mason she can't help but sigh contentedly.

She feels him kiss the top of her head. "Sleep."

His low command puts her even more at ease as she feels herself sinking deeper into slumber.

The rain still patters against the window, picking up again in its intensity.

She snuggles deeper into Mason's embrace, revelling in the warmth of his skin and the comfort and security of his arms.

The storm doesn't bother her again that night.

☾ feel free to send me a prompt

tags: @utterlyinevitable , @ethansramsey , @otherworldlypresents , @aworldoffandoms , @raleighcarrera , @ejunkiet , @starrystarrytrouble , @terrm9 , @openheartthot , @octobereighth , @campsearchlight , @coldshrugs , @kelseaaa , @homeformyheart , @intothestrawberryjar , @magebastard , @kodysteach (if you don’t want to be tagged for twc, mason x detective, and/or prompts, please let me know!)

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc fanfic #mason x detective #twc prompts #twc mason #specialist agent mason #agent m #mason x grace #soft mason is soft #thank you for the prompt!#i really need to try and make these shorter #like damn #if I tagged you more than once I apologize

91 notes · View notes

eclecticmiasma · 4 years ago

Text

Ebb and Flow (Josuke x Reader)

🌠Commissioned fic!🌠

NSFW

After many stressful months on patrol, Josuke finds that lazy days spent in your embrace are more precious than diamonds.

[Warnings: consensual somnophilia]

Art Credit: Starヨル on Pixiv

A provincial sea-side town. Not exactly a hotspot of activity, nor a likely source of stress. A town full of simple folk living out their simple lives. Quaint, charming- and requiring a surprising amount of police work.

The events of 1999 took their toll on little Morioh. People lost trust in the safety of their surroundings, and countless other stand users still reside in the area. Crime skyrocketed, and while that might seem beneficial for a rookie cop fresh out of the academy, Josuke takes no joy in just how busy his job keeps him. He often wonders what his grandfather would think of Morioh in its current state. Part of him is glad he isn’t alive to see it.

You’re more than proud of Josuke. The rowdy teen you once knew went out and achieved what many felt was the impossible. Though he still faces hardship, and continues to be quite rowdy, you don’t carry any of the doubt that fills his thoughts. Josuke saved Morioh once, he’s more than capable of doing it again.

Due to his duties, spending nights alone has become so commonplace that you’re shocked when his muscular arms snake around your waist while you’re trying to get ready for bed. You notice he’s only wearing tight, gray sweatpants, and his hair looks a little unkempt. When you question this, wondering if he’s going to be late for his shift, he responds only by pressing a firm kiss to your neck and slightly grinding himself against you.

“I finally got the night off,” He says, the excitement in his voice barely hidden. You grip the counter as he kisses your neck again, this time tugging at the waistband of your pajama bottoms. The sweatpants he’s wearing leave nothing to the imagination, as his hard length juts right against the cleft of your bottom.

It’s been so long since the two of you were able to be together that even the smallest touches have you coming undone. A stroke of the front of your panties, a grasp of your thick behind, the way his breath floats across your skin as he chuckles at your reaction, “Needy, aren’t we?”

He tugs your bottoms down with your underwear and ruts himself against your bare backside. Your hand flies to his and you whine at how eager he is to take you right here and now.

“W-wait, don’t you want to…enjoy it?” You ask sheepishly, biting your lip and trying not to grind your hips in response to his own, “I don’t want to finish so soon…” Josuke lets out another laugh and slides a large hand down to toy with your clit.

“Who says we’re finished after this?”

The rest of the night is a blur. All the months of unspoken longing and sexual tension culminate in hours of exploring each other’s bodies. Not a single surface of the apartment is left unsullied. It’s only when you can barely keep yourself standing that the two of you finally roll into bed, exhausted and thoroughly sated. You hardly have time to say goodnight before Josuke is passed out, snoring like a freight train, arms wound tightly around you in a grasping embrace.

It’s no surprise that Josuke wakes up before you, as he’s hard-wired to be alert first thing in the morning. When he sees how early it is, he debates rolling over and going back to bed. After all, he finally has the day off, and your soft, warm figure feels so good against his own. He could stay like this for the rest of his life, bodies intertwined in plush sheets. Visions of the previous night’s lovemaking hover in his mind. He closes his eyes, hoping to dream about your body writhing below his own, but his cock has a different idea.

Sighing, Josuke pulls your sticky bodies apart and gazes down at his throbbing member. After the marathon session you had, he’s glad to see that the thing still works. He looks over at your sleeping form, pondering rousing you from your slumber to go for round…seven? Eight? As his hand touches your shoulder you roll onto your back and take a deep breath in. He watches your plump breasts heave up and down. His eyes flick from your sore nipples to your swollen, parted lips. A devilish idea forms. It would be cruel to just wake you up, wouldn’t it?

Josuke carefully moves down the bed and slowly slides your legs apart. He leans over and places a hesitant kiss to your left nipple. Nothing. Smirking, he sticks out his warm, wet tongue and slides it around your areola. You emit the smallest whimper. He rewards you by lapping properly at your nipple, rolling the bud around the tip of his tongue. A heavenly sigh escapes you, sending blood straight to his length.

He mirrors his ministrations on your other breast, mindful not to wake you. His hand moves to your entrance and he swipes your slit with his fingertip. You’re incredibly wet. Some of it’s from the night before, he knows, but the idea that you want him so badly you could even become soaking in your sleep turns him on more than you’ll ever know.

He decides you’ve had enough teasing and lowers himself to the edge of the bed. Normally, you’re such a light sleeper that he’d never be able to do this in his wildest dreams. Now that he has the chance, he plans to take full advantage.

With the first swipe of his tongue across your clit, you inhale sharply. Josuke hesitates, fearing that he’s already woken you. He waits for your breathing to return to normal before licking you again, massaging your swollen mound slowly and deliberately. This time you moan in earnest, a soft and needy answer to his actions. Josuke can’t help but groan against your pussy, daring to push your legs slightly farther apart so that he can eat you out more fervently.

When Josuke tastes your soaking wet folds he closes his eyes. He presses his hard cock against the side of the mattress and ruts shamelessly against it. Your juices on his tongue, memories of thrusting into your body the night before, knowing he’s the cause of your arousal- all of it makes him dizzy with lust.

As his tongue glides up and around your sensitive hole, stopping every once in a while to tease your clit, Josuke notices your breathing is increasingly erratic. Part of him wonders if you’re only pretending to be asleep, but part of him doesn’t care. Just the idea of you cumming in your sleep drives him wild.

“Yeah? You like when I lick your pretty little pussy?” He whispers against you, hoping in some subconscious universe you’ll hear him coaxing you on, “Gonna cum just from my tongue?” Your fingers twitch response, gripping the sheets beneath you. You moan more ardently as Josuke tongues your hole. Even in the dream world it feels incredible.

Suddenly, you’re crying out, gushing on Josuke’s face and tongue as your orgasm tears you out of sleep. You whine his name as your body trembles, the reality of your surroundings and current situation settling in. Josuke grins triumphantly as he laps up your juices, milking every last drop from your clenching pussy.

He stops humping the side of the bed and gets back on it, wasting no time connecting your lips with his own. You moan into the kiss, brain feverishly trying to make sense of the sensations bombarding you. Josuke hooks an arm underneath your right leg as his tongue massages your own, delving deep into your mouth in a haze of arousal.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” He grunts, rubbing the leaking head of his cock against your sopping wet entrance. His body is heavy against your own. It presses you firmly into the mattress, leaving you no choice but to writhe in pleasure with over-stimulation.

“Please,” You gasp, wrapping your arms around Josuke’s neck and threading your fingers through his disheveled hair. You don’t have to ask him twice, his member is already trying to slide into you. After a few unsuccessful attempts to penetrate you due to slipping in your slick, his length finally breaches your hole and both of you groan in response.

Josuke wastes no time seating himself fully inside of you. He takes the briefest of pauses to plant a wet kiss on your lips, then his hips are snapping against your own. After everything you’re incredibly sensitive, hovering on the edge of another orgasm as he roughly takes you.

“Next time you…want me to f-fuck you while you’re asleep?” Feral Josuke is a hard one to come by, but by no means unwelcome. He grunts and groans as he cants into you, thick cock stretching your walls at a bruising pace. Being as strong as he is, he’s usually too concerned about hurting you to truly let himself go, no matter how often you tell him you’re not going to break. This time, it’s like he’s lost himself in your body, “You want that, baby?”

You squeal as he rams you over and over, “Y-yes…Josuke!” Just the thought of him prying you open with his dick while you lay unaware and defenseless makes you throb with delight. It’s enough to send you spiraling into another orgasm. Josuke moans and grips your hips tight as your walls spasm along his shaft.

“I’ll make you cum on my cock again and again, just like that,” His own breathing is growing ragged even as he teases you, not once stopping to let you come down from your high. The over-stimulation of it all sends tears to your eyes, but you wouldn’t ask him to stop for anything. Having Josuke near you, around you, inside of you, inhaling his scent, hearing him as he releases control of himself just for you- it’s an intoxicating ride you never want to get off of.

Without warning, Josuke shifts your body and bends your other knee so that he’s deeper inside of you with every thrust. His heavy balls slap your ass in rhythm with his movements, and your nails dig into the back of his neck and shoulder blade. He loves it when you kiss the dark purple star of his birthmark, and he loves it more when the indent of your nails cut right across it.

“So good, your pussy feels s-so good,” He murmurs, relishing in your squeaks and moans and the squelching sound your bodies make as they separate. Sweat drips off of his forehead and onto your face and neck. You’re the one person allowed to see Josuke like this- filthy, unhinged, tousled. The way others can only dream of seeing him.

You feel him getting close. His breath grows ragged, groans higher in pitch, thrusts inconsistent. Josuke presses you flat against the mattress as he finally cums, spurting thick, white ropes of semen straight into your core. You mewl as his warmth fills you. No matter how many times you take his seed, it always feels electrifying. It’s a pain in the ass to clean, but something about it leaves you both breathless.

It takes a long while before you finally have the energy to ask Josuke to roll over. He does, sliding out of you with a slick squelching sound, his cum dripping down your thighs. Your whole body aches all over, memories of the previous night combined with your morning debauchery. Even so, Josuke’s cheeky grin as he stares up at your stretching form fills you with affection.

“You’re beautiful,” He croons in that greasy way of his. As long as you’ve been together, his sincerity still feels like he’s just buttering you up. It’s awfully endearing.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” You tease, slapping him on the shoulder and willing yourself to go wash up. If Josuke’s to be off all day, a nice, hot bath should get you ready for anything else he has in store for you. His pretend pout turns into a mischievous grin as you grab a towel from the dresser drawer. As soon as you see his expression, you violently shake your head, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Come on!” Josuke calls after you as you quickly exit the room. You wish you had some sort of spray bottle you could shoo him away with. He trails behind you, giving you a sharp slap to the ass just before you slip into the bathroom.

“How long has it been since we did it in the shower?” He asks, disheartened. As you lean against the bathroom door, you think back. How long had it been? A mere moment later, you roll your eyes and toss the towel you held to the side. Josuke’s shit-eating grin greets you the moment you open the door.

Maybe one more round won’t hurt.

*all original work is my intellectual property. do not edit or re-upload.

#commissions #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #higashikata josuke #josuke x reader #cop!josuke #smut #fluff #not sfw #minors dni #part 4 #diamond is unbreakable #consensual somnophilia #tw: somnophilia

509 notes · View notes

tsrookie · 3 years ago

Text

Now, and Forevermore: Part 2

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Alyssa Brooks)

A/N: Super nervous about this one, because I’ve wanted to write an ILY fic for such a long time, but it always got pushed back thanks to PB and their stupid inconsistencies. May or may not have included a teeny tiny Merder reference.

Trope: Fluff

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning(s): One innuendo, that’s it

Link to Part 1

——————————

Loud music blared through the speakers. Few guests remained in their seats, choosing to watch the joyous celebrations on the dance floor.

A wedding was an event where people came together to rejoice the union of two souls. Two separate lives, binding together for life. They came together to celebrate friendship, eternal partnership, and love.

Alyssa was still figuring out a way to confess hers.

She stumbled to the side of the crowded hall along with Sienna, who was equally exhausted from dancing the night away.

“Oh my god I think the last time I danced this much was at our housewarming party two years ago.”

Her best friend let out a chuckle. “I remember. Jackie even managed to knock over a plate of fries which ended up on your hair.”

She took a sip of her drink before continuing, “Speaking of the housewarming party, where’s the only person from the hospital who declined our invitation? Haven’t seen him since your dance, which was almost an hour ago.”

“He’s probably over at one of the balconies, away from all the noise.”

“Hmm.”

Sienna let out a sigh before fixing her eyes on the newlyweds, happy in their own little bubble, without a single worry.

“They look so… content. Like they have everything they’ll ever need right there in each other’s arms.”

“Yeah… I guess you feel that way when you’re head over heels in love with someone, and by some miracle, they feel the same.”

She looked over at Alyssa, who had a soft smile on her face. Her best friend had found the kind of true love she had always dreamed of, and she only hoped that it would last forever.

“Have you two said it yet?”

“Said what?”

“You know what I mean. Eight letters. Three special words. Words you two have been skirting around for almost a year now.”

“I…” She looked down, a pensive look taking over. “I don’t know Si… it never feels like we have a proper moment to say it. Everyday at Edenbrook feels like an unpredictable circus where something could go wrong at any minute. Finding time to just… be with each other without worrying about work seems impossible. Besides, he knows how I feel about him, and same here. There’s no rush.”

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t always rely on your actions. Sometimes, words are better. Saying it makes it sure. It makes it feel real. Or else, you’ll be out of time before you know it. Say it out loud, Alyssa. Don’t waste time waiting for some perfect moment, because chances are, you might never get one.”

Alyssa held her hand tight, and took a moment to take in the gravity of her words. Sienna might’ve been ready to move on, but Danny was still someone she missed everyday.

“Okay.” She turned to face her. “I’ll tell him tonight. I promise.”

Sienna nodded her head in response, a small smile of satisfaction assuming her features.

—————

Ethan stood over by the railing, enjoying the feel of the sea breeze ruffling through his hair. The ocean glittered like diamonds, mirroring the starry sky. It was a magical sight, and he decided to go back into the raging party to bring Alyssa to enjoy the view with him. Although, he wasn’t sure his eyes would remain straight ahead with an actual goddess beside him.

“Thought I might find you here.”

His ears perked up. “I was just about to come and find you.”

“Well I found you first. Didn’t see you having any cake earlier, so I brought you some.”

He nodded in thanks. As she stood beside him, she looked positively ethereal. Her eyes sparkled as she took in the sight of the moonlit ocean, and her brunette hair danced along her bare shoulders.

Ethan didn’t have the words to describe her beauty, so he refrained to simply admiring her while he still had the time.

Her soft voice broke the comfortable silence they were in. “It’s beautiful out here. Kind of reminds me of the last time we were on a balcony facing the sea.”

He smiled ruefully. “You mean the night I threw every single rule I had for myself out the window and kissed you like my life depended on it, before leaving you the very same night to go sleep on the couch?”

“The very same. The only night where I had the best first kiss I could share with someone, and get dumped before we even got together.”

Ethan felt a pang of guilt in his chest upon hearing her words. He might have her now, but he would always regret the time he let go to waste.

Alyssa looked over at him, and his expression made her squeeze her eyes shut and smack her forehead. “Oh god I ruined the moment, didn’t I?” She took his hand in hers and said, “I’m so sorry. I’m under the influence of alcohol, so you know that I barely think before I blurt something out.”

“And here I was hoping we could have a proper conversation for the first time in months. Of course, I shouldn’t have had my expectations so high.”

She punched his shoulder playfully, and he took it as an opportunity to pull her closer. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her hair, which smelled of his shampoo from their shared suite. Ethan felt utterly content, having everything he ever needed and wanted in his arms, and wished he could stay rooted to the same spot for as long as he lived.

“Okay, Dr. Ethan ‘I would rather spend my time alone, in a party where his girlfriend’s having the time of her life, wishing her boyfriend would be there with her so that they could spend some quality time together’ Ramsey.”

“That’s… I think I preferred ‘freaking’ as my middle name compared to everything you just said.”

Soon, they were both laughing. She turned around to face him, and Ethan held her tighter. Taking in her face filled with happiness, illuminated by the light of the moon, he knew he had to say it.

“Is… everything okay?”

“I…” His throat closed up, at a loss for words. Saying the words he had longed to tell her for almost a year suddenly seemed impossible. After fearing true, long-lasting commitment for more than twenty five years, cementing his love for Alyssa scared him almost as much as the thought of ever losing her.

But looking into her concerned eyes, the eyes he could get lost into within the span of a second, he knew she deserved to hear it. She deserved the whole world, and so much more.

“It’s funny. I kept quiet all these months, not telling you what I should’ve told you the moment you were out of harm’s way after the attack, waiting for a perfect moment to present itself. When all along… I never realised that I didn’t need such a moment at all.”

He cupped her cheek, as she stared at him with wonder, yet a small smile dancing on her lips with the knowledge of what was to come. “Every single day, every minute, every second by your side, could not be more perfect. And I’m sorry that I didn’t know it sooner.”

“I love you, Alyssa Brooks. With all my heart, body and soul.”, he said as he brought her hand up to his thundering heart. “I believed love to be a lost and foreign concept, one which I would never be able to experience. But with you… I’d be an idiot to say that what I feel for you is anything but love. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love anyone as much as I love you and frankly, I don’t ever want to. I want to love you for the rest of my life. If you’ll let me, that is…”

Hopeful and earnest cerulean eyes stared back into awestruck shining brown, awaiting the response he desperately wanted to hear.

“Well… took you long enough.”, she teased, eyes sparkling with mirth. “I love you too, Ethan. More than you’ll ever know. And I want to love you for the rest of my life too.”

Matching her grin with one of his own, Ethan kissed her deeply. She wrapped her arms round his neck and let her fingers tangle into his soft hair. He continued to kiss her with fervour, but she pulled away, panting.

“Don’t you think we should probably take this inside? I’d definitely like a more private celebration of us finally coming to our senses.”

“Are you sure? There’s still much left at the reception, including the bouquet toss, which I’m not sure Sienna would be okay with if you missed.”

She chuckled. “Considering the fact that she was the one who sent me out here to find you, I don’t think she’ll mind.” With a sudden surge of confidence, she added, “Besides… do you really think I should stay for that?”

Ethan held Alyssa’s gaze, which was both bold and bashful at the same time. He finally smirked and said, “No, you don’t have to.”

Her face broke into the smile he loved to see. A smile unburdened of all the worries in the world. A true and rare smile he thanked for being able to witness.

“Then let’s get out of here.”

Alyssa took his hand and led him back to their room, but truthfully, he felt her lead him into a new life that would have its highs and lows, all filled with unconditional love.

He couldn’t wait to see what came next.

——————————

Link to Bonus Ending

A/N 2: Hope you guys liked it! There’s a small bonus ending I’ll be releasing soon, cause if my babies are happy, my babies’ number one shipper deserves to be happy too😌 Thank you so much for reading💙

Taglist: @whimsicallywayward15 @aleynareads @starrystarrytrouble @dxnicaramsey @decadentwinnerjudgedream @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey @rookiefromedenbrook @eramsey28 @the-pale-goddess @ohchoices @wellhelloramsey @mvalentine @swiftlydarcy @utterlyinevitable @akshara16 @sushiharrington @drethanramslay @lion-ess24 @whippedforethanfreakingramsey @aarisa-frost @drariellevalentine @perriewinklenerdie @blossomanarchy @stateofgracious @takemyopenheart @open-heart-ramseyyy @maurine07 @udishaman @queencarb @ethanramseylover @rookiemarsswiftie @aworldoffandoms @lsvdw-blog @n03lia @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfan @jamespotterthefirst @senseofduties

Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist!

#ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan x mc #playchoices #ethan ramsey fanfiction #mercy writes #ethan ramsey x mc

61 notes · View notes

eleanorbloom · 3 years ago

Text

Moonlight: Part Two

Disclaimer: Open Heart and most of the characters are owned by Pixelberry. Matilde is a creation of mine.

Book/Pairing: Open Heart / Bryce Lahela x F! MC (Matilde Luna)

Word Count: 2.5k Warnings/Rating: Angst, curse words/Teen.

Author’s Note: I'm so sorry for disappearing, adult life has been harder than expectected and only this week I had some spare time to edit this :(

Thank you so much to all the people that read the first part, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Hope you like this as well 😊

A bug hug to you, beauties! ❤

Moonlight taglist: @dalishessence @curiousconch @chocopeppermintcake @utterlyinevitable @secretaryunpaid @kachrisberry @romereadingshop @thegreentwin @blackcatkita @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Let me know if you wanna me added to the taglist!

----

Part Two. Orbiting the Moon.

First days are always challenging.

They demand a lot of things. Bravery to explore the unknown (whether it be a place, a person, a job, even food); strength to meet new people when you weren’t blessed in the people skills department; patience to stand the new people who turn out to be shitty people; adaptability to adjust your ways of life to other people’s, etcetera.

It’s a lot.

So, it wouldn’t be a lie if I say that Bryce Lahela didn’t cross my mind after we parted ways at the Atrium that morning, even if his appearance can be categorized as ‘unforgettable’.

Between dealing with Aurora Damn Emery and her insufferable attitude and the fact that I almost killed my first patient on my very first day, I had no space for more.

All I could do was cursing internally (at Aurora and also me) and rethink every fucking decision I made that day. Wondering what would've happened if I hadn't been there the moment Annie had the anaphylactic shock, if Varma hadn't shown up to snap out of me when I froze... Endless questions.

All my dreams about being a doctor crumbled at that moment, wondering if I was doing the right thing, if I was made for this.

“You need to have a long, hard think about whether or not you're ready to be here.”

The face of Annie, unconscious, and Dr. Ramsey's words was all I could hear and see throughout the afternoon, intensifying the guilt with every passing second.

First day and I could've killed someone.

I couldn't even shut up the voice inside my head stating the facts.

First day and I am already a failure.

Because they were nothing but the truth.

Do I deserve to be here?

And there was no point in denying such hard evidence.

Right in the middle of a hallway, surrounded by immaculate white walls and shining lights, I felt exposed. Like everyone around me was going to find out the imposter I was.

I wanted to run away. Disappear.

Without thinking too much, I ran to the nearest supply closet I found before anyone could notice me and the state I was in.

Once under the darkness of the room, I leaned against the wall feeling my stomach trembling, my heartbeats resounding in my temples in slow motion.

“No puedo hacerlo,” I sighed, releasing a shaky breath as I was rubbing my hands on my face, “No… Mamá, no sé si puedo… Casi la mato.” (“I can’t do this,”//“I... Mamá, I don’t know if I can… I almost killed her”)

Fighting the tears back, I closed my eyes trying to evoke the face of my mama in my mind: her black and grey long hair, always in a perfect French braid, her dark and wrinkled eyes full of wisdom and warmth, and her thin lips curling in the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Creo que, no estoy hecha para esto,” I stated, helpless. (“I think I’m not cut out for this.”)

Just as I was trying to imagine what she would tell me in a case like this, what words she would use to calm me down and reassure me, I heard the door creaking.

A tall silhouette was standing at the entry, looking directly at me.

“Hey, Luna.”

Friendly voice. Sparkly eyes. Expensive, seductive perfume.

Lahela.

I stared speechless as he walked towards me, his brows knitted in worry, “Are you okay?”

I froze at his question. The sole fact he was there froze me, actually.

There was no way I’d tell him the truth, but I had so many things bottled up from that day; so many emotions, fears, anger, all that demanding to come out, that for a moment I thought I would spill all out.

And the way he was looking at me, evidently worried, waiting for an answer, made it even more plausible. Maybe I could tell him and maybe he would say something that could make me feel good. Just as good as he made me feel that morning on our short trip to the Atrium.

I opened my mouth to respond...

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t let myself do that. That was not me.

The risk was too big and I was a fucking coward.

So I gulped. I gulped as if I was swallowing all my feelings about to come out of my mouth, sour as bile, to let them deep buried inside of me, where they have always belonged.

I cleared my throat and I said instead, “Yeah, I'm okay…”

He arched an eyebrow, dubious, “You don't look like it. If you need to talk…”

I shook my head, nonchalantly.

He seemed earnestly worried, but I couldn't say anything. I didn't know him, and I don't talk to people I barely know, much less about the mess I was on my first day. And much, much less to another resident who could doubt my potential and right to be there. A fucking surgical resident that thinks is above anyone else.

He was the worst option in all Edenbrook.

Well, after Aurora Emery, of course.

“Don’t worry, it’s all good,” I insisted with a humorless smile, “What are you doing here, by the way? Need some syringes? Don't let me stop you.”

He shook his head this time, “No. I saw you in the hallway, I needed to check if you were okay.”

“I’m…”

I was ready to reply automatically as before, without even considering my answer. It didn't matter how bad I was, I was used to saying everything was okay even if my world was falling apart in a million pieces inside, because it was just pleasantries, force-of-habit questions, and people honestly never gave a shit about it, and it was okay. But this felt different. I couldn’t lie to him, but I also couldn’t tell him the truth.

Bryce probably realized my intern conflict, despite the darkness of the room -only dimly illuminated by some blindings mildly open behind the racks of medical supplies-, because he took a step closer to me, pensive, “Are you sure, Mat-”

The moment I saw him getting closer, I felt dread. Dread because I realized that I was an insistence away from speaking. From letting my resolve crumble and tell him the truth. Just a simple and insignificant truth that meant hell to me.

Before he could reach me, I slid away from him, and sprinted towards the exit, leaving him in the room without looking back.

What the fuck is happening to me?

I couldn't understand it. I’d always kept my shit inside and dealt with it on my own, and when I shared something, it was with someone I deeply trusted, a trust that could take months to get. But why suddenly I wanted to open up to someone I had met that day? Like a chatty drunk, the words wanted to slip out of my mouth, recklessly.

Maybe it was the fact that he had given me attention. Just a bit of attention and my stupid mind gets intoxicated with it. Drunk.

But I had to know better. I knew better. I knew that nothing good could come out of that so I ran away like the coward I am.

_____

If I was already confused before he showed up, after that encounter I was a total mess. And the only way I had to calm down that kind of a mess, to overcome such a shitty, stressful day, was with alcohol. Something that could give me a fucking break from my own mind for a few hours. So once my shift ended, I joined Sienna, another intern, to go together to the bar near Edenbrook.

I could've gone alone, or bought something at a liquor store to drink it alone in my room, but I had promised Sienna I would join her as payback for saving my skin from Dr. Ramsey that afternoon. And I liked her. She seemed genuinely nice among a hospital full of fake and selfish people. Besides, you cannot not trust a person who calls themselves a dolphin, right?

When we got to the bar, packed to the brim with people from the hospital, she led me to a booth where there were other fellow interns she had congregated during the day: Jackie Varma, Landry Olsen, and Elijah Greene. A very diverse group of people.

Elijah was a nerd who couldn’t stop throwing Harry Potter jokes at me since he found out I was renting a room under the stairs of a building, and he was really, really nice, so I couldn't even get mad at him for that.

Jackie was… tough. Competitive to a fault, but she was funny and always had some witty remarks to everyone who talked to her, so that helped me swallow her the rest of the night.

And Landry… Ooof, Landry was… Unreadable. There was something about him that I didn't like. And not precisely his lack of people skills, because, who am I to judge, but he had this air of sufficiency I couldn't stand. Something treacherous. I'd always had this sense with people, and I could sense from the start that I'd never liked him, so I just tried to hang out the less I could with him, and focused on getting to know Sienna and Elijah, the people I found more things in common with.

A couple hours later, tipsy and with all my problems momentarily suspended in midair, I reached the bar for the next round of tequilas for the group.

I had just made my order when I felt a bump in my arm, startling me.

“Hey.”

I turned around and a pair of honey eyes were looking curiously at me.

Holy fuck, not you again.

“Hey, ” I replied, looking at him for a millisecond before fixing my eyes on the dozens of bottles of alcohol in front of me, begging he would just go and leave me alone.

“Are you doing better?”

My eyes widened.

Oh no, is he really? No, please no. Don’t.

But the alcohol had made its effect by now. I could lie blatantly at him without feeling that stupid necessity of telling him the truth. Although it wouldn't be a lie because I was doing better thanks to the tequilas.

“I..., Yeah. I’m… I’m doing better now.”

Hearing my own words, I realized I had just snitched myself.

Stupid, stupid idiot. I should’ve just ignored him.

Saying I was doing better implied I wasn't good before, and I didn't want to recognize that in front of him. I didn't want to give him any permission to pry, more than he had already done.

Too late.

“That’s great, Luna, I’m glad,” he said, heartily.

Sincerely.

Why the fuck everything he says seem so sincere to me?

I turned to him to look for some kind of smirk or smugness, something that could tell me that he was amused by what had happened that afternoon, or a hint of "I gotcha" in his gaze, but he was just looking at me earnestly. With a soft, warm smile and eyes beaming with candor.

It was kind of intriguing that someone like him could look like that. Or maybe he was just a good actor.

Feeling bold because of the alcohol I had in my bloodstream, I dared to turn to him and scan him carefully, realizing details I wasn't able to get when I first met him that morning.

It was like I had only been able to get brushstrokes of him or just certain sensations about him: his warm smile, his vivid golden eyes, his imposing yet stunning beauty, but not so much about details.

Details such as the shape of his eyes -delicate monolid traces around amber and honey hues-, crowned with meticulously groomed eyebrows. His lips, generous and soft; his caramel skin, tanned, his face with sculpted cheekbones and jaw, and impossibly smooth skin. His nose, straight but slightly crooked at the bridge.

After a few moments, he arched an eyebrow, “Yes?”

And his hair -with soft golden streaks- styled in a perfect mess to one side, falling casually over his temple when he leaned one arm onto the bar, breaking the height distance between the both of us. Because he was tall. Or maybe not that tall, but everyone in this damn country was too tall to me. With my 5’2 I was a dwarf to anyone and everyone was a giant to me, so that pose let me inspect him even more carefully.

After seeing all that, there's no wonder why he was so damn handsome.

Just then I realized he was looking expectantly at me, as if I was looking at him to say something.

Oh, no, not again. Eres una vergüenza, Matilde. (You’re an embarrassment, Matilde).

“I…”

What does this human being have that always leaves me speechless?

He chuckled, his eyes wrinkling in amusement, “You’re something else, Luna.”

I blushed. Maybe even more than I already was.

What's that supposed to mean?

Without expecting any reply from me, maybe because he knew I couldn't come up with anything, he added, “Wanna go play darts with me?”

My stomach churned instantly, anxiety metabolizing to the speed of light as I imagined what that entailed.

“N-No, thanks. I don’t play darts. I suck and I don’t pretend to humiliate myself in front of the whole Edenbrook on my first night here.”

Bryce clicked his tongue, “Doesn't matter, I can teach you if you want.”

I wanted to say yes, I really did. Like always in other things. I wanna say yes, but a part of me stops me. The fear of embarrassing myself in front of everybody, of being so dumb people will realize I have no fix, or of feel so nervous that I will ruin everything.

And his sincere smile was telling me he really wanted to teach me and he was hoping I'd say yes, like a puppy waiting for his human to take him for a walk. But, ah, once again. I couldn't.

“I appreciate the offer, but this time I pass.”

“Just this time,” he stressed, pointing a finger to me playfully.

I shook my head, giggling, “We’ll see.”

“We’ll see,” he defied, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Five tequilas ready!” a deep masculine voice announced at the other side of the bar.

I turned around, startled, and I found a tray with five shots of tequilas in front of me, “Thanks!” I looked back at Bryce, “Well, I… I have to go.”

“Need any help?”

“Nah, don’t worry,” I shrugged and took the tray with naturality.

“Ah, you know your stuff,” he pointed with an approving smirk.

I arched an eyebrow, kind of baffled by his implicit skepticism, “Do you?”

“I know a cowboy when I see one,” he winked at me.

It took me a moment to catch his drift.

“Oh.”

I nodded, kind of shocked by that revelation. I had imagined he aced Med School with no worries, using daddy’s credit card and all the commodities frat boys like him have. I would’ve never guessed he had to work his way here, just like me.

“Have a good night, Luna.”

“You too, Lahela. See ya.”

He smiled confidently, knowingly, “See ya.”

----

Thank you so much for reading!!!

#bryce lahela #bryce x mc #bryce lahela x mc #playchoices #open heart #open heart fics #open heart fanfic #oph choices #choices stories you play

23 notes · View notes

mandoinevarro · 5 years ago

Text

NO REFUNDS

Words: 5.1k :))

Rating: E, baby

Warnings: Smut (surprise surprise), bad words :0, masturbation, a biiiit of praise kink, face fucking, cumplay? let me know on the comments, etc. etc.

a/n: Happy Star Wars day!! The first few lines of this are an attempt at dumb comedy, but humor me a little and you’ll get a reward (smut) along the yellow-brick road

Finally, the lanky kid behind the counter stops air drumming with two chicken bones gnawed dry and trails his dopey eyes from the gloved fist on the table, up a bracer, and along a flexed arm, until they settle on the Mandalorian helmet staring him down and waiting for an answer. The employee removes the music bandeau from around his ears and settles it down, its noise so loud Mando can hear it from where it lays. The kid scratches the whiskers of facial hair growing patchy on his cheeks and thoughtfully nibbles on one of the bones, trying to figure out what one does when a client shows up.

“Uh, what?”

“I need to speak to the owner,” the Mandalorian repeats slowly.

“Oh, uh.” Mouth gaping like a fish too stupid to know it should fear hooks, the kid calmly turns his attention to the four walls of the hardware store, searching for guidance in the fluorescent signs hanging around the room and dictating the store’s rules like they’re ancient scriptures:

NO CHILDREN

WILL BUY STOLEN GOODS FOR LOWER PRICE

NO IMPS

NO REPUBLIC OFFICIALS

NO REFUNDS

NO APPOINTMENT, NO MEETING

“You, uh,” the kid continues, lingering on that last stanza and flicking open a dusty agenda that probably hasn’t been touched since the war ended, “you got an appointment, uh, sir?” He drags a greasy finger down the planner, squinting at nothing and pretending to read the page that Mando can clearly see is empty.

The bounty hunter sighs, holding on to the last reserves of patience that hang precariously on the cliff of his self-restraint, threatening to let go and leave him to his own anger. “No. But she’ll see me.” You better. You better fucking see him. “I was sold equipment here a few days ago, some of it faulty. I need to speak to her.”

The navigator. The fucking navigator. Of all the bunch of overpriced, black market scraps you’d somehow convinced the Mandalorian to buy from you last time, it just had to be the navigator. He still has his old blasters. Pumps are cheap. Even the deflector shields he could’ve done without for a couple of months. But the fucking navigator. The lack of droids on the Crest means that Mando relies solely on the navigator to set coordinates. Without it, he wouldn’t be able to find his way out of a system, let alone make hyperjumps. Even worse, the model is so old, its glitching isn’t recognized by the control panel, so he had to hover around the atmosphere of this damned planet for three days before figuring out what it was, throwing off his schedule and losing track of two bounties in the process. All because you sold him a damaged version of the one part he can’t do without.

But your gaping-mouthed kid worker seems too unused to visitors to really care about Mando’s request, too entertained nibbling on a bare bone and eyeing the costumer in front of him as a knowing smirk cracks his lips and he says, “I dig it.”

“You…you ‘dig it’? I don’t…”

“The whole, y’know.” He draws circles in the air with the bone, signaling the beskar armor while he wipes the sauce around his mouth with a sleeve. “The, uh, Mondolarian vibe you’ve got going on. Very retro, dude. I dig it.”

Mondo…? Bewilderment overshadows irritation for a second, and Mando focuses all his energy into searching the kid’s vacant eyes for a sign of intelligent life. “I…I am a Mandalorian.”

Fucking stars above, it’s never easy with you. If not your endless teasing, it’s the exorbitant prices, your unwillingness to compromise, or your scurrying around so he’s forced to play cat and mouse with you. Your latest impossible challenge for him to tackle is, apparently, getting a straight answer from the obtuse employee you must have handpicked from a catalogue of idiots to torture Mando. Maker, he’s surprised your store hasn’t gone bankrupt yet. He can’t imagine anyone else in the galaxy putting up with your whims. And he only does it because…well, because…

After dedicating a couple of seconds to crafting the perfect response for what appears to be his very first client, the kid muses, “Well, shit, what do I know.” He flashes a toothy smile as he rereads the dogmas on the walls. “Says nothing about Mondolarians here, but, uh—”

“—Look,” Mando bargains with your gatekeeper, trying to level the exasperation escaping the vocoder, “I only have one faulty part. Let me talk to the owner, and—”

“—Shit. I bet it was the microvalves.” Your staff of one hangs his tuff of hair in shame, swaying it limply from side to side, before staring straight at the visor apologetically. “My bad, dude, I’ve been trying to get them right, but I always fuck them up. It’s hard, y’know? Red with red, white with white. Why not red with white? Or—”

“—No. What? No. Listen to me. You sold me a busted—”

“—I sold you?” the kid scoffs, his eyes suddenly snapping wide and offended, ignoring Mando’s clenching fists, which usually make normal people cower. “Excuse me, mister Mondolarian sir, but I don’t, uh, don’t recall selling you shit, in fact—”

“—Not—not you personally, the store, look, just—”

“—in fact, I’ve never even met a Mondolarian before and you’ve, uh, no right—no right— to judge my microvalves that I worked hard on—”

“Let him in.” Your voice carries its usual amusement as it cuts between the Mandalorian and the kid, breaking off the bickering from both ends and drawing their attention to the melody’s source. You lean on the doorframe leading to your workshop, holding a pair of pliers in one hand and a wrench in the other. Grease is smeared on your face, where teeth bite down on a playful smirk and the twinkle in your eyes speaks of terrible intentions—like always. You tilt your head back to the room behind you. “C’mon, Mando. Let my receptionist work.”

With a sigh, the hunter moves towards the separate room, not before glancing back at the receptionist, who throws him one last disapproving look and wraps the bandeau that never stopped blasting music around his ears.

“Why do you keep him here?” the Mandalorian grunts as you push yourself off the doorframe to move inside your studio.

You shrug. “It’s him or droids.”

Mando trails after you inside the cramped workshop, filled to the brim with piles and piles of sensors and motors and all the other scraps from dubious origins you collect, fix, and resell. He closes the door behind him and pushes a large tube hanging from the roof to the side to walk closer to you.

Facing him, you plummet on your wheeled chair with a sigh, your arms dangling off the armrests, still holding the wrench and the pliers, like you’re the monarch of your little kingdom of junk granting him an audience.

There, Mando finally gets a good look at you, and—much to his annoyance—you’re as lovely as always. Glistening and greasy, you’re still beautiful with oil stains on your skin and fat droplets of sweat trailing your temple. You beam at him from your squeaky throne with that faint grin that attracts nothing but trouble. Maker, no wonder you always manage to talk circles around him. But not this time. This time he won’t fall for your little games. He won’t, he won’t, he won’t. Tonight he’s walking out of here with all of his money, no matter how much you bat your pretty eyelashes at him.

The Mandalorian squares his stance and straightens his back in a futile attempt to intimidate you, strutting ahead firmly and pointing an accusing finger at your face.

“You sold me a—”

“—a busted navigator.” You roll your eyes and push yourself to your legs abruptly before the hunter can get any closer. He stops dead on his tracks. You wave the wrench and the pliers in the air like the conductor of an orchestra. “I sold you a busted navigator.” The vowels are dragged out with an exaggerated tune to make fun of him. “Yeah, I heard you the first four thousand times, Mando.”

Without looking, you drop the pliers to the side. They land dead center on an open storage box. Perfectly. Almost rehearsed. Something clicks. The Mandalorian suddenly finds the missing piece of a puzzle he didn’t know needed solving, and he feels his shoulders deflate and release some of the anger that drove him to your store in the first place.

You peacock closer to him, one foot in front of the other and swaying your hips as you look down to the wrench in your hand. “But, you should know by now,” you murmur once you find yourself only inches away from the beskar, your voice morphing its earlier mock exasperation into the tone you only use whenever you two aren’t talking business. You look up at him, failing miserably at masking the mischief in your eyes. “I don’t do refunds.” You lift the wrench and grin as it taps the beskar breastplate lightly with a tink.

And before you can blink, Mando’s hand flies to your wrist to clutch it roughly, squeezing without hurting you, but with enough strength to force your fist open. Just like he knows you like it. The wrench falls to the floor with a bang that makes you jump. It’s Mando’s turn to smile when he pulls you by the wrist to press you closer against him. The cocky glint in your eyes dulls into confusion.

“I never said it was the navigator,” he informs you lowly.

You tense under his grasp and shift your jaw. “You knew I’d come back,” he continues, encouraged by your grimace. Staring at your feet, you half-heartedly try to wriggle away from his grasp, but he grabs your other wrist instead and holds you flush against the cold beskar. “Okay. I’m back. Now give me my money.”

But his satisfaction is short-lived, because if there’s anyone in the universe who knows no shame, that’s you. So you simply bite your lower lip and move your head from side to side to shake hair and embarrassment off your face. When you look up at the visor again it’s with that brazen insolence that secretly gets the Mandalorian going like nothing else in the galaxy.

“A girl gets lonely in here,” you purr. Your wrists relax, and make no attempt to pull away. “Can you blame me for wanting you back a little earlier?” Your plush lips curl into the perverse smile of someone who’s holding all the cards, making heat rush involuntarily to his crotch. And it drives him fucking insane. He could have you tied, shackled, or bent over, and you would still sneer at him like you had him wrapped around your finger.

At his silence, you wedge a leg tightly between his thighs and massage it against the bulge between. Your gasp in fake surprise when his length hardens at the first hint of a brush, too unused to any sort of physical contact to remain neutral to your bold caresses. He bites down hard on his lip to suppress a moan. He won’t give you the satisfaction.

Mando’s learnt, though, that his restraint only feeds your audacity. Only makes you taunt him more. His lack of response spurs you on, and you crane your neck forward to lick a slow line along the beskar of the chest. You blink at him playfully as you go, stuffing your tongue back into your mouth once you reach the top edge of the breastplate.

You must find it funny. How his ribs expand and contract in anticipation. How he tends to roll and unroll his fists in an attempt to suppress the instinct to throw you on top of the table so crowded by clutter that he can barely see the surface beneath and fuck the smirks off your face. How he always gives in. How he stiffens both scandalized and impossibly aroused every time you introduce him to some newer, filthier act. You must think it’s so fucking funny.

And as much as the bounty hunter wants to shove you back against your crumbling wheeled chair, he knows you’ll only enjoy it more. So he simply lets go of your wrists and steps back.

“I’m only here for my money,” he lies.

The vicious grin grows wider. “Oh, so you’re making me work for it tonight.” You step back and lean against a table with your arms crossed over your chest, purposefully pushing your tits against the cleavage. Mando shifts in his place. Licking your lips until they glisten, you give him a once-over. You study him inch by inch, and an uncomfortable rope knots in his stomach when he realizes that this is how his bounties must feel when he watches them wordlessly.

Your eyes settle on his visor, and a decision seems to cross them as you walk over to sit on your creaking chair. “Or maybe you just want to hear me beg.” You part your legs wide and clutch the armrest with one hand while the other disappears under the waist of your pants. The contour of your hand shifts up and down slowly inside the crotch of your trousers, and your lips crook into a full O as they release a deep, foul moan. “Is that it?” Your eyes are glossy and malignant, trained on his visor. “You want me to beg for your cock?”

His leather gloves ball into fists, trying to coax blood into his head and away from his…well, his other head.

Yet you hold him in place with that sinful stare and the lewd whimpers that you know get him off, and yes, fuck yes, he wants to hear you beg and sob for him all night as much as he wants to clog your throat with his shaft and make you swallow your teasing.

But he can’t let you win. You can’t scam five thousand credits out of him and expect him to throw himself into your arms no questions asked. He wants to put an end to your little tyrannical rule on his cock. And he wants his fucking money back.

So the powerful Mandalorian watches helplessly as your hand quickens under your clothing and you throw your head back in ecstasy. That fucking smirk doesn’t leave you, though. Even less so when your palm picks up some speed and you hear his breath hitch involuntarily at the visual, loud enough to override the vocoder.

“C-come on, Mando, don’t—” Your hand sinks deeper into your pants and you hum at the adjustment. “Don’t you wanna teach me what—what proper cos-costumer service looks like? Huh?”

His cock jumps in his pants when you say his name in a wanton gasp, and Mando can see you’re sweating and moving your hips faster against your palm. He’s so hard it hurts.

Your smile falters and you frown impatiently as the pent-up tension threatens to snap in your body.

“Don’t cum,” Mando blurts before he can stop himself.

“Or what?”

“Or I won’t give you what you want.”

Your movements halt on command, and the hunter almost envies the control you have over your own body to be able to backtrack on the very edge of your release. You hold your hands up in triumphant surrender as you watch the Mandalorian approach and stop just a breath away from your body. He stands tall before you, crowding you with his size and turning down the volume on the nagging voice that reminds him that he’s letting you win.

Eyes on the prize ahead of you, you lick your lips and snake a hand beneath your sit. You pull a lever and the chair plummets a few inches until your mouth is directly in front of the rigid tent growing in his pants. Expert fingers undo his belt and lower his fly, but, stars, nothing is fast enough when Mando already feels the veins of his cock growing thicker and thicker. Skipping all formalities, your hand sneaks inside, cups his balls, and pulls all of him outside. He groans when you grab his shaft and squeeze hard from base to tip, your bare palm catching awkwardly on his equally dry skin. Mando melts into the sensation all the same, but you seem displeased with your palm’s lack of fluidity.

“Fuck. Hold on.” A pair of fingers disappear into your mouth and down your throat as far as they’ll go. You choke on them dramatically and your eyes water slightly, but they shine when the two small intruders drag outside your mouth, pulling a thick string of elastic spit with them and dropping it on his shaft, pulsing with anticipation. You lean forward and look up through your lashes as you unroll your tongue slowly and more gooey saliva dangles from it. It’s too dense to spill onto its target, so you pluck the heavy ropes from your mouth and smear it manually on his cock, while a thread of it hangs on your chin.

“Fuck.” Your tiny clenched fist wakes up every nerve in his body as it drags up and down his shaft, obscene and perfectly lubricated. Mando’s hips buck into its grasp involuntarily, so suddenly that you flinch at the unexpected jolt. It’s a small comfort for him, to see that he can also surprise you. But then you’re giggling again, locking him in place by grabbing the buck of his belt with your free hand.

“Eager,” you remark. You lean forward and place a chaste kiss on the tip that digs into his spine. Maker, it was barely anything, but he’s so hard and your mouth is so close. “Aren’t Mandalorians,” you tease, “supposed to have self-restraint?”

Mando’s only answer is a low groan and a gloved hand that tangles on your hair and pushes you forward. You resist, though, instead wrapping a fist around his base and dragging your hot tongue up his underside, stopping just before the tip. A tortured whimper echoes around the helmet, and the Mandalorian is not sure if you could hear it because his muscles pull tighter, drawing his attention to his cock and your mouth and the fact that the latter is not wrapped around him for some reason. As if you could read his mind, you suddenly engulf him whole. Spit gathers on the edge of your lips as you suck on his length, swallowing around the tip and swirling your tongue around his girth.

“Fuck, you’re so—so fucking g-good at this.” You hum in response, sending vibrations through his shaft that make his knees buckle. He always forgets how good it feels with you. He forgets that you take him perfectly like all your holes were made for him to fuck. That you make his blood run hot with every swing of your tongue and every spasm of your cunt and every insolent remark that escapes your lovely mouth, now busy pleasuring him.

You settle on his head and suck on the bulb, hollowing your cheeks to let him feel the delicious inside of your mouth. Mando grabs handfuls of your hair with both hands, still trying to extinguish little whimpers before they leave his throat. And you can tell. He knows you can tell because determination clouds your eyes as you yank him closer by the belt. You drag your tongue in a circle around the ridge of the head, before dipping into the slit on the tip and finally earning a punched out groan and some beads of precum as a reward. Somehow, you moan and chuckle at the same time, opening your mouth as strings of spit fall to the floor.

“You’re hard, Mando,” you coo, pumping his length while you rub it on the side of your face, “throbbing and so, so hard. You should’ve come to me sooner, baby. You’re desperate.” You suck on the head again, and the Mandalorian’s grip on your hair turns to steel, pulling you into him and no longer asking. Moaning, you let him, taking him as far as you can and wrapping a fist where you can’t reach. Your other hand releases his belt and snakes down to your lap, fumbling with the waistband of your pants.

Somewhere in the swamp of sensations drowning his thoughts, an idea flashes in Mando’s head, and he holds on to it before you can suck it out of his tip. One glove lets go of your hair and quickly grans the hand lowering into your heat to resume touching yourself. His cock still in your mouth, you look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and a silent question.

“You can’t c-cum,” he explains, forcing words out of a throat that right now only wants to moan, “un-until you give me my—my refund.”

You groan and roll your eyes, taking your mouth off him with a pop. “Fuck no,” you breathe as you pump him faster and harder, almost making Mando lose his resolve. Almost. His hold on your wrist tightens. “It’s store policy.”

“Y-yeah?” You continue sliding your fist along his shaft, as you lean forward and lower your face to start lightly licking his balls. The room spins around Mando, and his grip on your hair pushes you into him until you suck on one ball gently. “Is—is it store p-policy to—ngh—to f-fuck your clients?”

You chuckle against his taint. Your head straightens to set your attention back on his tip, where he’s leaking an almost embarrassing amount of precum. A thumb brushes over his slit, gathering the pearls and bringing them into your mouth to taste him. The way you rub your core slightly against the chair is sneaky enough, but the Mandalorian catches the movements and tugs your hand and hair tighter as a warning. Your shoulders slump. “I’ll give you half,” you offer.

Mando guides your hand lower and curls it around his swollen cock, silently begging for your attention. His hand wraps over yours as he squeezes your fist and drags it along his shaft at a pace of his liking that sets his insides ablaze. “Eighty.” The helmet falls back as he revels in the wet sounds of your hand sliding back and forth his cock and giving him a nice enough memory for when he inevitably goes back to the Crest and is forced to take care of his needs himself.

You let him guide you, cupping his balls with your other hand and swirling your tongue around his darkening tip. Mando’s chest trembles with a long moan at the toe-curling feeling of your warm spit and your clenched fist working so hard for him, until you drop him from your mouth and answer, “Seventy.”

“N-no, I—”

“—Seventy,” you repeat and twist your hand away from his grasp, leaving his seeping cock throbbing and abandoned, “or you don’t cum.”

Fuck, he was close. He was so fucking close, before you turned the tables. Like fucking always. A part of him cradles his already bruised pride, shaming him for—yet again—not being able to hold it together around you. But his cock tugs harder. More insistently. It pulls every fiber in his body and screams at him to give you whatever the fuck you want.

“Fine.” He nods his head once, before his better sense can convince him otherwise. “Seventy.”

A full, beautiful smile that almost makes Mando forget he’s getting scammed graces your plump lips. You waste no time shoving your hand inside your underwear again and moving your arm frantically as you give him a couple of throaty whines. You open your mouth as wide as it’ll go and blink up at him, inviting him to take you however he so pleases. He tangles his fingers on your hair and shoves you against him as you wrap your lips around his cock and muffle your mewls on it.

The Mandalorian starts fucking your face, getting his money’s worth as he moves you back and forth. Your eyes water and you gag with every shove, but you work earnestly for him, hollowing your cheeks and moving your tongue and pulling just about every trick on your toolbox to make Mando’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

And stars, even through your pants and his helmet, he can still smell your arousal. He hears the wet squelching of your fingers working your pussy fast and if he could only get a look. One look is all he needs to cum, he’s sure, one fucking look at your clenching cunt and he’s done.

“F-fuck, l-let me see,” he pants, “let—let me s-see you—see your p-pussy cum, just—fuck—just a mo-moment, please, j-just…”

Tears from all the gagging fall out of your pretty eyes as you open your mouth and stand up, taking your trembling hand outside to fumble with your trousers. Your thumbs are hooked under their waistband and push down slightly before you suddenly stop and stare at the Mandalorian gulping all the oxygen he can get and waiting for you. “Sixty,” you say carefully.

Too intoxicated with you and too focused on the blood beating hard on his cock, Mando couldn’t care less. He doesn’t give a shit about percentages or money or parts or whatever half-forgotten excuse he had to come here tonight. All that matters and all that’s real is whatever he needs to climax, and if it means letting you win, so be it. “S-sixty. Yes. Whatever. Just—just take your fucking pants off.”

One swift movement and your pants and underwear pool around your ankles. Yanking hard on the hem, you manage to pull the right leg off your boot. You don’t bother with the other one, letting it hang on your left leg as you climb back on the chair, spreading your legs and hooking one thigh over the armrest to offer him the best view possible.

Mando’s cock threatens to spill at the sight. You’re fucking soaked. Your folds are blushed and slick and swollen with all the blood accumulated on your cunt. Three fingers rub your aching clit and everything around it with messy strokes, as you stare at the bounty hunter with raw lust and moan for him loud and clear, and this. This is worth the fucking navigator.

As soon as his shaft ghost over your face you lean into it and reach for him with your mouth. Mando takes your head between his hands and resumes his previous brutal pace, his eyesight now directed at the way your cunt spasms and seeps more juices with every circle you press against your lips. And, fuck, you’re taking him like you’re hungry for his cock. Pushing harder and further and faster despite the gagging, you’re making Mando see blotches cloud his vision and feel how his muscles turn into hot, thick magma. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he can’t hold it in anymore. His balls start pulling up as a warning and you’re sucking harder and mewling around him.

“I—I…I’m gonna—I—”

Mando can’t find enough words to put together for the life of him, but you nod and manage a chocked “Mhmm” and bob your head to the pace of your quickening fingers and stars oh fuck—

The wave of his climax hits him hard on his back and makes him curl around you. He braces himself against the top of your chair and the change in position makes his cock slip outside of your mouth, but his vision goes completely black and all he can feel is the rush of pleasure crushing his bones into dust. Maybe your name is falling from his lips, but he can’t be sure. The never-ending spurts of cum falling somewhere hoard most of his attention, and he focuses on that thick and heavy release, so rare for him that he puts his mind into savoring every second.

It’s not until the echoes around his ears dissipate that the Mandalorian hears you’re still whimpering. Hunched over you, he opens his eyes just in time to see you gather some of the seed that he spilled on your neck and bring it down to smear it over your bundle of nerves, rubbing it one, two, three, four times, before you’re sobbing long and loud. Your hole tightens around nothing, your forehead resting on his cuisse, and Mando thinks he could get hard again just from the image.

You both stay like that for a while, curled into each other and panting in turns, until Mando gathers all the energy left in his system to pull himself upright and shove his softening shaft back into his pants. It’s only then that he sees just how much of a mess he made: Cum landed everywhere. It hangs thick all over your face, on your neck, on your hair, on your clothes. He blushes darkly and he’s about to open his mouth to apologize, but you sense it. Somehow. You wink and brush off his shame with a smile and a wave of your hand, standing up to get dressed. But Mando’s quicker. He kneels in front of you and gently raises your underwear until it hugs your hips, wishing for a fleeting second he could press a kiss on the supple flesh there. You grab his pauldron for balance to sneak your foot into the pantleg that Mando holds open for you.

For once, it’s he who breaks the silence. “I…I do want my sixty percent, you know.”

“Of course.” You smile sweetly at him, reaching back to your work table to grab a clean rag, rubbing it against your face and neck. “I’ll even throw in some free microvalves for good measure.”

—

Taglist of two so you can keep each other company :) : @rosetophighlander @hellomothermoon

#the mandolarian #the mandalorian x you #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian x ofc #the mandalorian smut #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #mando smut #star wars smut #star wars day #his fucking microvalves that he worked hard on

1K notes · View notes

sacklerscumrag · 4 years ago

Text

Part I of III: Stay With Me Series

Notes: Hey ya’ll so i decided to do a little three part Clyde series with some fall vibes! I’ve been feeling a little off lately so i wrote this last night to take my mind off things :) hope you guys like it, I'm already halfway through part 2 and its a long one 😅 There's something about Clyde and a bookstore that just gets me going. Enjoy :)

Summary: Moving to Boone County, West Virginia a year ago today, your entire life has changed. With owning your own bookstore and your favorite holiday around the corner, could love also be in the books for you?

Wordcount: 1.6K

The air was cooler, and the leaves had already changed. It was official, Autumn had arrived in Boone County, West Virginia. It had been a year since you moved here and started helping Sam out at your favorite bookstore. Until about a month ago, when he decided it was getting to be too much work for him to keep up with, so he asked you to take over. You headed to the bookstore early that morning to start decorating for Halloween and take in some new inventory for the holiday season. Hanging some orange twinkling lights along the frame of the windows and doors and setting up pumpkins with black tinsel on the bottom of the large window out front to display some books. The store was small and cozy, so there wasn’t space for much.

You weren’t expecting too many customers today, seeing as it was Sunday, so you settled behind the counter with a good book and some coffee. Flipping through the last pages of your Frankenstein novel, you heard the door chime at around 11:00 am.

“Good Morning, welcome to Sams” you said barely peeling your eyes away from your book long enough to see who came in. You stood up, setting your coffee down, and walked over to the entrance.

“Good mornin’ Miss, uh is Sam around?” you turned your gaze to him, about to give him an answer but were taken back by the man standing in front of you. He towered over you with long, wavy, dark locks drizzling down to his broad shoulders that you just wanted to wrap yourself around and never let go. He had dark, sultry eyes with the most exquisite nose you had ever seen, his lips were full, plush, it made you want to drown in them. You noticed his mechanical arm but paid no mind to it, how could you when the man was built like a Greek god. You were sure you had never seen him in the store before, you definitely would’ve remembered.

“Ya alright there Miss?” his deep voice snapping you out of your thoughts, you didn’t even realize you were biting your lip, almost tearing at the skin.

“Yeah sorry I-uh Sam’s not working anymore so I’ll be taking over. Is there anything I can help you find?” trying your best to compose yourself, interlocking your index fingers behind your back.

“No ma’am its alri- well actually ya got any good books for Halloween? I’m always lookin to read somethin good for the holidays” he put his hand in his pocket, keeping the mechanical one tightly to his side.

“Of course, follow me” you guided him through the bookshelves, his heavy footsteps following closely behind you. He was slightly hunching over to fit himself in between the shelves before you reached a small, black table decorated with spiderwebs in the back of the store.

“These are all my favorite Halloween books I’ve read so far” stepping to the side to give him a better view of the array of books.

“Ya read all o’ these?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say readings a hobby of mine” you turned to give him a smile only to see he was already smiling at you. “If you need anything else, I’ll be by the counter” quickly walking away before he could see the heat rising to your face.

About an hour or so later, he came back with two books in his hand and placed them on the counter along with a crisp bill.

“On the house” you said pushing them back towards him.

“I can’t let ya do that Miss I-“ he placed his hand on the books but you cut him off by putting your hand on his.

“The only form of payment I’ll be accepting is your name” he swallowed hard, looking down at where your hands were still touching then looking back at you.

“My name’s Clyde” you withdrew your hand from his, already missing the warmth, and settled back behind the counter.

“It’s nice to meet you Clyde” you told him your name as he stuffed the money back in his pocket.

“Well, that’s a beautiful name. It’s nice to meet ya. I better head on out then. Have a nice day, and thank ya again” you gave him a smile, noticing the flush in his cheeks.

“Have a nice day, Clyde” he grabbed his book and headed out the door. It wasn’t until after he left that you realized how flustered he made you, releasing a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

The following week flew by and as Halloween approached the bookstore got busier. Finding yourself with less time to daydream about Clyde and those alluring eyes of his, you were dumbfounded as to how such a large man could be as shy and reserved as Clyde was.

When Sunday rolled around, you were looking forward to seeing him again. You woke up that morning, did your hair and applied some light make up. Wearing your favorite pair of high waisted black jeans, throwing on a long black sleeve with a ghost in the center, and your black boots as you grabbed your coat and headed out the door.

A few customers passed through in the morning, still giving you time to read through your book and tidy up the store a bit. Clyde came in at his usual time, looking as handsome as ever.

“Mornin” your name sounded like honey coming from his mouth, you could listen to that man talk all day. He stood by the door, hands fidgeting with the sides of his jeans.

“Good Morning Clyde, how’s your day going?” putting your coffee down to look at him.

“Gettin much better now” he said looking down, a slight smirk appearing on his face “I loved the book ya recommended for me, finished it last night.”

“I’m glad you liked it, are you back for another?” you made your way around the counter, suddenly needing to be as close to him as possible.

“Yes ma’am, do you happen to have Frankenstein? Saw the movie last night n I been dyin to read it”

“I just finished reading that one actually, it’s a classic. Did you see the original black and white film? That’s my favorite”

“Yeah, it’s the only one I’ll watch, I love all em black and white movies. Thought I was the only one.”

“Not at all, those are my favorite too” you said pacing towards the bookshelf, scanning it. “We actually don’t have that one in stock but” walking to the counter, returning with the novel. “You can borrow mine if you’d like”

“Ya don’t have to, I’d hate to cause ya any trouble.”

“Clyde, it’s no trouble at all” you said handing the book to him.

“You have any favorites you can show me? I really wanted to take home more than one today” he clutched the book you gave him close to his side. You both made your way over as you showed Clyde your favorite section of the store. It seemed like hours passed as you both discussed your favorite books and authors. The more you talked, the more you realized you and Clyde had much more in common than you thought.

After some time, Clyde paid for his book, mumbling something about being late to work as he walked out. Your heart raced watching him nervously fumble with the books in hand.

Another week went by with Clyde on your mind. Before you knew it, it was another chilly, Sunday morning. You had picked up some cookies and pastries for some of your loyal customers and settled in with your book behind the counter. You saw Clyde’s truck pull into the parking lot a bit earlier than usual.

“Mornin” Clyde walked in with a book under his arm and two coffee cups in his hands. He was wearing a navy-blue button-down shirt with a black undershirt and jeans that were too tight for your own good.

“Good morning Clyde, back for something new?” he chuckled lightly at your response while walking towards you.

“This if for ya” he places the book and a coffee cup on the counter “For lending me this, I appreciate it” the way he smiled at you making something ignite in your core.

“You brought me coffee? Thank you, Clyde” you damn near melted at this gesture “Anything I can help you find today?”

He approached the counter, arms tightly at his side and chewing on his lip. You could tell whatever it was he had to say was making him nervous. He placed a hand on the counter and took a deep breath.

“I just came by to ask ya something. M’ sorry if this is too forward o’ me or if it makes ya uncomfortable but will ya do me the honor of goin out on a date with me? I been meanin’ to ask ya since the first day I came in. I know a girl like you can do a heck of a lot better than me but if you just-”

“Clyde, I would love to go on a date with you” his eyes darted to yours, almost like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“How bout a movie then? At the drive-in? Their showin a black and white movie, Frankstein like the book ya been readin. Tomorrow at 7?” he cleared his throat, worried he sounded too eager as soon as the words left his mouth.

“That sounds wonderful Clyde” he smiled at you before looking at his watch.

“I gotta go Darlin but I’ll pick ya up tomorrow at 7 then” you nodded as he turned and walked out.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

#clyde logan #im soft for Clyde lately #logan lucky #inspired by the song Stay With Me by Anson Seabra #that's why this is so soft lol

149 notes · View notes

impala-dreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Wash Me Away

SPN FanFIc

~Being lost in Purgatory with Dean takes a toll on Y/N, but a night of rest might do them both good.~

Dean x Reader, Benny, Mentions of Castiel

2,729 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Purgatory Smangst!. Danger. Romance. Rain.

A/N: This is for my Purgatory!Dean square on @spnkinkbingo 2020 and for my darling @covered-byroses who wanted something about the rain. Hope you all enjoy!

My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

It had been weeks, a month, maybe, since they woke up there. A month of running for their lives, every second on edge, wondering if they’d be fast enough to escape the next monster, strong enough to fend off the next attack. And there was always another attack.

They got a few hours here and there to rest, but they were on the move now, day and night.

Funny how Purgatory could sustain even a human for days without sleep or food. Perhaps the universe was coddling them, keeping them alive just enough so they could find the portal and escape. Or maybe they were just getting used to it, adapting to their new existence.

Dean was harder here, she noticed. He never laughed anymore, never teased her like he used to. She understood, of course. There was no reason to laugh anymore, not with a thousand fangs aimed at their throats.

Y/N tried to keep some hope, tried to show him a smile whenever he needed one, but the darkness was eating at her too. Hell would probably be nicer, she thought, but then again, she wouldn’t be with Dean.

Maybe he was what was keeping her going. Surely, she’d have given up that first night, succumbed to the monsters in and around her after Castiel abandoned them. But, Dean was there to grab her hand and pull, forcing her feet to run, demanding she keep her shit together. And she did. For him.

It helped that they had a mission. They weren’t just trying to get out, they were trying to find Cas. Some days, trudging behind Dean and Benny, Y/N had to bat away the idea that Cas was already dead. If it took three of them working together to get through the minefield that was Purgatory, how could one lone angel survive? She didn’t like to think like that, but it was hard some days.

Then there was Benny. Part of her was absolutely disgusted that Dean had agreed to let him tag along, to make such a deal with a monster. He was a vampire for fuck’s sake, but she understood, in the end. Dean couldn’t keep her safe and look for Cas at the same time. Still, sometimes she felt Benny’s eyes digging into her and it chilled her Hunter’s spirit to the bones.

There were times when they could go no further, when even Dean’s strong legs started to give out. They would sit beneath a tree or hide behind some strangely arranged pile of boulders. Shelter was sparse, so when they happened upon the cave that night, Y/N nearly cried.

Dean didn’t even protest when Benny insisted they both rest inside for the night while he went on ahead. The area around the cave was clear, and Benny promised to patrol the perimeter while they slept.

It was cold and quiet.

The mouth of the cave was about six feet wide and four feet tall, but it opened up into a room big enough to get comfortable in. Dean took the left side, stretching out his long legs as he sat against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Y/N lay down opposite him, hands like a sorry pillow behind her head as she stared up at the rocky ceiling. There was a bit of pale yellow light coming in from outside, so it wasn’t too dark, and the cracks in the stone gave her something to count and focus on while Sleep ran away.

“This isn’t too bad,” she said, mostly to herself. “Ya know, if we don’t find Cas, we can just hole up here. Maybe excavate a little bit, add some bedrooms, a little kitchen in the back. Could be nice.”

“We’re going to find him,” Dean grumbled, his eyes still closed, lips barely moving. “I’m not living in a cave in this hell hole world.”

Y/N rolled onto her side, head braced by one hand. “Well, technically, this ain’t a hell hole. It’s a purg-hole. That’s a thing I just made up, but anyway.” She held her smile, biting her tongue between her front teeth, but Dean didn’t share her laugh. “Come on, dude,” she said, slapping his boot. “Smile.”

“No.”

“You’ll feel better if you do.”

Dean opened one eye and glared. “How?”

“Because I’ll feel better and that always makes you happy.”

She smiled sadly and he gave in, offering a meager smile that barely lifted his lips.

“See? Thank you.”

She left him alone then, rolling onto her stomach, cursing the world for not packing a sleeping bag before getting blown into another dimension. She should have had her go-bag with her. Would have made things a lot easier.

Thoughts swirled, the silence wrapped around her, and sleep finally came, closing her eyes before she even felt its approach.

She woke to rain.

A faint mist pushed in by a wayward breeze through the cave mouth kissed her eyelids and Y/N stirred, lifting her cheek from her hand and blinking into the dark. Raindrops danced a few feet away, collecting in shallow puddles where the rocks failed to meet in perfect seems.

Suddenly, it was all she ever wanted; the rain, the cool air, the heavy clouds. Her soul ached for it.

“Dean.”

She called to him gently but he was already awake, emerald eyes turned towards the same raindrops.

“Yeah, Y/N/N?” His voice was softer now, calmer after his rest.

“Come with me,” she whispered, lifting up onto her hands and knees.

Dean caught her left wrist as she tried to crawl out of the cave, shaking his head when she turned back, curious. “Don’t. You don’t know what’s out there.”

She sighed. “Benny’s walking the treeline. All that’s out there right now is rain. And I want to feel it on my face, Dean. It’s been too long.”

Her eyes misted over and something inside him gave in. His fingers released their hold on her wrist and he rolled to his knees, following her out.

They didn’t go too far; just a few yards away from the cave, but it felt like miles.

Y/N closed her eyes as she lifted her arms and turned her face to the sky. There was no Heaven up there, not anymore, not where they were, but for a moment, she felt it. Each drop of rain stung her face but she loved every one. It felt good, clean.

The water seeped into their clothes and soaked their hair, rinsing them clean of days of mud and muck. The dried blood on Dean’s cheek faded away and he lifted his hands, scrubbing them down his face with a sigh of relief.

“This feels amazing,” he said, finally cracking a real smile. He closed his eyes and let himself breathe; the first moment’s peace in a long while.

“Yeah.” Y/N’s voice broke, sadness creeping in. She dropped her head and the downpour massaged her neck with pounding pellets that trickled down under her collar. “It is.”

Dean heard her tone change and turned towards her, watching her shiver but not care to move. “What’s wrong?” His voice was tender as he came close; he was afraid for her, worried.

Y/N licked the water from her lips and looked up at him. Her eyes were as wet as anything else, but the reason wasn’t the same. “I don’t know.” She offered a lying smile but he wouldn’t have it.

“Tell me.”

His hand found her cheek.

She sighed deeply, shoulders dropping. “I just wanna stay here and let the rain wash me away.”

Dean pursed his lips, concerned dimples popping as he brushed the water from her cheek with his thumb. “Why?”

Y/N shook her head gently as she spoke. “It’s too much; I’m not gonna make it out here. You know that, Dean.” She took a breath as thunder rolled above them. “You should leave me in the cave. Go find Cas. Go get out of here.”

Dean’s chest burned at the thought; guilt stabbing his heart. “No.” He grabbed her face in both hands, holding her to him, forcing her to meet his eye. “I’m not leaving you, ever.”

Y/N tried to pull away but he refused, keeping her locked there, head in his hands, alone in the rain. He stared her down, hard, unblinking even as water crept into his eyes. His left eyelid trembled and she laughed.

“You’re an idiot,” she yelled, voice weak over the pouring rain.

Dean smiled and bent his lips to hers. “Yeah, I am.”

They stood there in the downpour, not a single care for the first time in weeks. They kissed until the air between them was too thin, until their mouths filled with rain. Y/N tugged at the lapels of his leather coat and Dean’s hand slid up under her layers to lay on the small of her back. Any time she left for a deep breath, he pulled her closer, that big hand urging her to stay.

“We should go,” she managed after a long while, her breath heavy on his lips.

His eyes fell closed and his mouth reached for her. “No. Please.”

Y/N wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and moaned as he kissed his way across her jaw. “Take me back inside,” she whispered. “I need you.”

He let her go quickly, grabbing her hand as her boots sank into the mud. Together they climbed through the storm back up to the cave, desperate to settle down inside.

They stripped in a fury, no ceremony or tender hands. It was cold suddenly, and the dampness of their clothes was seeping in deep.

There was just enough room for him to stand and Dean used all of it, rushing to her and scooping Y/N into his arms once the sodden fabrics were kicked aside. They should have had a fire, but all they had was each other.

He kissed her harder, passion and desperation driving his tongue roughly between her lips. Y/N held on to his shoulders as he moved her where he wanted, absently walking her back until the stone shocked her skin.

“Fuck, that’s cold,” she laughed, turning her face from Dean’s kiss.

His hands slid around her, long fingers splayed out like a barrier over her back. “I’ll warm you up,” he growled, nipping at her pulse.

His kisses traveled downwards and Y/N ran her hands through his wet hair, sighing blissfully as his mouth closed around her nipple. “That’s pretty good…”

Dropping to his knees, Dean looked up with a smirk. “Oh wait,” he teased, sliding his right hand upwards to part her thighs. “There’s more.”

“I’m sure there is-” A gasp stole her words as Dean’s lips pressed against her pussy. She shuddered and sank down against the cavern wall, opening up for his tongue. He rolled it slowly across her clit, sending every bit of blood and thought straight down to it. She throbbed almost painfully as he fucked her open, fingers and lips working together to draw heavy moans from the back of her throat. She held on, fingers in his hair, hands tugging on his ears.

It had been too long since she had felt him, forever since she’d even had a thought to spare on pleasure, and her nerves were pulsing. Dean lifted her right leg to hook over his shoulder and the new angle gave his tongue more access than Y/N could stand. She shook almost violently as she came, her tight-lipped cry echoing down into the depths of their cave.

Dean pulled away, face shining with her slick juices, lips red and swollen. “Warm enough?” he asked, slowly drawing his tongue across his bottom lip, savoring her taste.

It took a moment for her brain to connect to her mouth, and Y/N took a deep breath as she dropped her leg from his shoulder. “Not quite.” She fell down to his level, knees crashing too hard into the rocky floor. “My turn.”

Her smile was delicious and Dean kissed her hard, humming into her as she ran her hands down his smooth chest.

“That’s nice,” he laughed, breath hitching as she tugged at his nipples. “Fuck.”

He was already hard between them and Y/N took advantage, wrapping one hand firmly around his cock while the other curled around the nape of his neck. She sucked at his lips while she stroked him, watching as the tension and worry melted from his face. Lines faded, his forehead relaxed, shoulders slumped as she worked him gently. When he wobbled, unsteady on his knees, she let him go, crawling over to the pile of damp clothes.

Dean watched in a daze as she lay down, opening her arms to him.

“Come ‘ere.”

He fell down against her, heavy body crushing her beautifully into the stone. He pushed between her legs; thick hips keeping her warm against the cool wind. “Fuck, I missed this.”

His whisper tickled her breast and Y/N cupped his jaw, urging him to look up. “Me too.” She traced his cheek with her fingertips, lightly skimming the slowly healing cut on his cheekbone.

“How?” she asked, suddenly melancholy once more.

Dean rolled against her, his cock pushing up across her slit. “How what?”

Her body tensed as he nudged at her clit, forcing her eyes to close and her heart to race. “How- how are we even here right now?” She tried to focus on his weight, the heat of him pushing into her, but it was easier to let the pounding rain take her mind away. “Are we dead? Are our bodies back on Earth in pieces all over that lab? I don’t-”

Dean pulled away and locked his arms aside her head. “Do you really want to worry about that right now?”

Y/N let his voice pull her back and she stared into his eyes. He was just as worried, just as sad as she, but Dean was living in the moment. That was all he could handle.

“No,” she said finally, giving him a tiny smile as she cupped his face and pulled him down to her. She kissed away the worry and nibbled at his pain, afraid to let him go even as he pushed up on his knees to bury his thick cock deep inside of her.

They lay in the mouth of the cave, Y/N’s head resting on Dean’s arm like a pillow. He curled himself around her, knees behind hers, nose tucked in the crook of her neck.

The rain had eased to a drizzle and Y/N followed an errant droplet as it raced down the rocks. When it added itself to the puddle by her hand, she pulled it back and fit her hand inside Dean’s.

“You think he’s really out there still?” she asked on the end of a sigh.

“Yeah, I do.” Dean left a final kiss on her shoulder before rolling away. “I have to.”

“We could just leave now, you know.”

Dean pulled his arm away and sat up, reaching for his jeans.

“I love Cas, don’t get me wrong,” she explained, staring at the faint track the raindrop had left on the rocks. “I just...I’m not…”

“Hey.” Dean’s gruff tone pulled her out of the fog and she turned to him. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, you hear me?”

Y/N nodded but swallowed hard, fear heavy in her chest. “Yeah.”

“I mean it.” He grabbed her hand between both of his and squeezed. “I have two goals in my life right now. Find Cas and get us all home. I’m not giving up on either and neither are you.”

Emerald shone bright, even in the dark, and Y/N let herself believe him.

Dean dipped his chin to catch her gaze. “OK?”

Y/N smiled softly. “OK.”

He kissed her knuckles quickly and then let her go, pulling the wet denim up to his knees. “Good. Now, let’s get dressed before Benny gets back. I don’t need no bloodsucker peepin’ on my girl.” He winked and she rolled her eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” she laughed.

Dean licked his lips and shrugged. “I think we’ve already established that.”

2020 Forever Tags:

@67-chevy-baby @akshi8278 @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @because-imma-lady-assface @blondemarvelchick @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @defenderrosetyler @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @fandom-princess-forevermore @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @impala-1979 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mummybear @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55 @wendibird @winecatsandpizza @winterpoohbear

#spn fanfic #dean x reader #purgatory!dean #smangst #spnkinbingo #one shot

305 notes · View notes

debbiechanclub · 4 years ago

Text

Best Two Out of Three, Part 24

Oh, friends. @hotyeehawman man and I would like to profusely apologize for how long it took us to get this part out. (And yes, we both changed our usernames - you’re in the right place!) It feels like it’s been an eternity since I posted any of this here fic. But luckily for you all, I’m pretty sure this is the longest part yet? And that being said, I’ll just let you lovelies get into it.

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 24/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x Adam Page x OFC x Matt Jackson (yup that’s what we’re going with now.

Word count: 9.1k

Warnings: Language; angst; brief explicit sexual descriptions

Catch up on previous parts here.

Tag squad: @freshlysqueezedmox @gabbynorth98 @librathepheonix13 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @exe-sadboi-exe @comeasyoudar @champbucks

Callie awoke the next morning with an unmistakable knot in the pit of her stomach. Guilt.

It wasn’t regret. She didn’t regret sleeping with Matt. He had been… wonderful. Attentive. Caring. Passionate. He’d made her feel desired and alive in ways that she hadn’t in months. So long that she’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel like that. She’d missed it, craved it, more than she’d realized. And there was no one else she rather would have helped her find it again than Matt.

Which was precisely why she felt so guilty.

The covers shifted as he stirred next to her. She felt him roll over and snake his arm around her waist. She smiled and relaxed into his touch. She didn’t want to feel guilty about how Matt made her feel. She just wanted to feel it.

“Good morning,” she said. But he wasn’t quite awake.

“Mm,” he grunted in return.

She laughed and turned to face him. His long, thick hair was disheveled from sleep and had nearly fallen out of its bun. She reached out and brushed a stray strand back from his face. “I was thinking about going to get Starbucks. Do you want anything?”

He didn’t open his eyes as he answered. “Yeah, but I’ll get it, babe. Just gimme few more minutes.”

Callie’s pulse quickened. Babe. She chalked it up to him being half-asleep. “It’s okay, I don’t mind,” she insisted. “You want your usual?”

He nodded. She smiled and kissed his cheek, slipped out from underneath his arm, and climbed out of bed. Their clothes were scattered on the floor, remnants of the night before. She grabbed her joggers and pulled them on along with the closest shirt she could find—Matt’s Young Bucks t-shirt—and then she threw her hair in a bun, slipped on her sneakers, grabbed her phone and wallet, and went out the door.

The nearest Starbucks was just a five-minute walk from the hotel, but she was in no rush to get there. It was a beautiful morning, and she needed the air—especially after Matt had let that pet name slip. She did her best to clear her thoughts of it as she arrived at the coffee shop. She queued behind a man in a business suit and pulled out her phone like everyone else. But, not long afterward, someone unexpected joined the line behind her.

“Late night?”

Callie’s stomach lurched. She’d know that voice anywhere. Adam.

“Not really,” she responded without fully turning around. She was suddenly exceptionally aware that she was wearing Matt’s shirt. She didn’t want him to see it.

But then it came her turn to order—and there was no hiding that she was getting two coffees to go. She spoke as softly as she could when she told the barista what she wanted and, as soon as she paid, turned and hurried past Adam to a table by the window, flustered. Of course this would happen. Of course she would run into him the morning after she’d slept with Matt, getting coffee for him, wearing his fucking shirt. She looked warily back at him as she sat down. She just wanted to keep an eye on him… but she found herself starting to stare as he pulled out his wallet. Admiring the way his t-shirt stretched over his biceps. How well his jeans fit him. She started to get lost in her thoughts—but then he turned toward her. She quickly looked away, back down at her phone. But not quick enough. It wasn’t long before he was standing in front of her.

“Where’s lover boy?”

She glared up at him. “He’s not my lover boy.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, Cal. Hair up, glasses on, wearing his t-shirt. This has walk-of-shame written all over it.”

Callie’s brow lowered. “Well it’s not a walk of shame if I’m going right back to him, is it?”

She regretted it almost as soon as she said it. Hurt flashed in his eyes. But it was gone in an instant, replaced with nothing but resentment.

“So he made you go get the coffee?” He scoffed. “What a gentleman.”

“I offered to get it,” she snipped. “And what are you so upset about? You’re more than free to move on with Alex now.”

“Oh, am I? Well you might want to let her know that, because she went home with Kenny last night.”

Callie faltered. She didn’t know what to make of the sarcasm in his tone. Was he trying to mask his hurt? Or was he just being an asshole?

“Callie!”

The barista called out her name not a second too soon. She looked Adam in the eye as she stood from her seat. “Well, it’s not my problem that she rejected you,” she spat. “At least now you know how it feels.”

She shouldered past him, grabbed the coffees from the counter, and pushed out the door back into the morning air. She walked much more swiftly back to the hotel than she had to Starbucks. She knocked on the door when she got back to the room, too agitated to bother with trying to fish out her key card while balancing two coffees. Matt answered in just his sweatpants.

“That was quick,” he noted as she breezed past him into the room.

“Yeah. Oh,” she stopped and turned around to hand him his coffee. “Here.”

“Thanks…” he trailed off as he took it from her, his brow furrowed. Callie wasn’t surprised when he asked, “Are you okay? You seem flustered.”

“Yeah.” She breathed out and took a sip of her coffee as he shut the door. “I just ran into Adam at Starbucks. It was… awkward.”

Matt’s eyebrows arched. “Oh.” His eyes flicked down to her shirt. His shirt. “I guess he assumed…?”

“Yeah.”

He frowned. Callie fidgeted. Now it was awkward between them. But she didn’t anticipate what he said next.

“Do you regret it?”

Her eyes widened. “What? No,” she answered with a shake of her head. She walked over and gave him a reassuring kiss. “Not at all. I just would’ve preferred not to run into my ex the morning after.”

She inwardly winced at that word. Ex. It still hurt to think of Adam that way. She still loved him; that wouldn’t go away overnight.

But the feel of Matt’s arms around her helped.

“Well, forget about him,” he said. “Let’s go out today. Get away from everyone.”

A smile pulled at the corners of Callie’s lips. That sounded like a perfect idea. “Okay. I’m gonna jump in the shower.” She shot him a smirk as she pulled away. “Want to join me?”

He groaned. “All my stuff is back in my room.”

“So?” She peeled his shirt over her head and tossed it aside. His eyes drank in the sight of her.

“Twist my arm, why don’t you,” he said, and he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the bathroom.

* * * * * * * * * *

Adam didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know what to feel. He didn’t know where to go from here. He didn’t want to go back, but he couldn’t see a way forward, either. And the kicker was that he’d done it to himself.

He’d considered turning around and walking right back out when he’d seen Callie standing in line at Starbucks. And after their interaction, he wished he had turned around and left. He didn’t want to know that she’d been with Matt last night. He didn’t want to think about him touching her body the way that he used to touch it, making her feel the things that he used to make her feel. He didn’t want to know that their relationship was barely two weeks in the ground and she’d already jumped into bed with another guy. And not just any guy—Matt-fucking-Jackson. Literally anyone else would have been better than Matt; Nick would have been better than Matt. But, ironically, he wasn’t surprised that it was Matt. Adam knew Matt had always had a thing for Callie; he’d known it from the day Matt had introduced her to him. But he’d never thought anything of it, never worried about it, not even when Matt would flirt with her right in front of him. He was his friend; he wouldn’t seriously try to move in on his girl like that.

He’d been wrong on both counts.

But, as hurt and upset as he was, Adam knew he didn’t have any room to judge Callie. Not really. Not after where his mind had gone last night.

He’d needed a physical release last night. He’d needed to unburden himself of the drunken, thoughtless way he’d kissed Callie; of the stress and tension and anxiety he’d been carrying for weeks. And so, alone in his hotel room, he’d taken care of it—and he’d thought about Alex. He’d thought about how her lips would feel wrapped around his dick, how she’d look underneath him as she took him, how she’d sound moaning his name. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten himself off thinking about her, but he hadn’t done it in years, since long before he’d met Callie. And after he’d finished, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from texting her.

Hey, are you at the hotel?

Her response had gutted him.

No… I’m actually on my way to Kenny’s.

He hadn’t said anything else after that, and neither had she. He wasn’t sure what would have happened if she had been at the hotel. He wasn’t sure what he’d been hoping for when he’d texted her. But he didn’t want to think about it. Just like he didn’t want to think about the fact that Callie was with Matt right now.

He walked back into the hotel and crossed through the lobby, but he slowed before he could reach the elevators. Chuck nodded in greeting as he, Trent, and Orange walked toward him.

“Hey, Hangman. What’s up?”

He shrugged. “Oh you know, just went to Starbucks and ran into Callie getting morning-after coffee for Matt. So... yeah. What’s up with y’all?”

He took a sip of his coffee as they all stared back at him, unblinking. Maybe he shouldn’t have volunteered so much information, but he couldn’t help it—he was emotional. But before he could excuse himself and disappear, Trent said, “Well that fucking sucks. We’re going to get breakfast. Wanna come with?”

The offer surprised Adam. Why the hell would they want him to come with them? He’d just drag down the mood. Besides, he didn’t want to go with them. He wanted to go back upstairs to his room and wallow in self-pity.

But then he thought of Alex again. She’d tell him to snap the fuck out of it.

“Fuck it,” he decided. “Sure.”

“Cool,” Trent returned.

They all started toward the exit. Chuck fell in step beside him. “If you’re wondering where Alex is, she went to Kenny’s last night.”

Adam frowned down at his coffee cup. “Yeah. I know,” he said. That was another thing he didn’t want to think about.

* * * * * * * * * *

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!”

“Alex, don’t just mash buttons. You need to do combos.”

“But this—is—working!”

Alex stuck out her tongue in concentration as she furiously mashed the buttons on the game controller. She and Kenny had been playing this stupid Street Fighter game for forty minutes now, and she absolutely refused to quit until she won at least one—

“K.O.!”

She dropped the controller to her lap, defeated. Again. Kenny curled his lips into his mouth. He was trying desperately not to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” Alex scowled. She was far too competitive for her own good.

He gave her an apologetic grin. “I’m sorry, baby. That round was better.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he assured. And then, “I think it was the first time you lasted past three minutes.”

“Kenny!” She gasped and grabbed a throw pillow from the couch. “I could say the same about you last night!”

She swung and whacked him with the pillow. “Whoa!” She reared back again, and he held up his arm to block the blow. “Uncalled for and untrue!”

She smirked. “Come on, you walked right into that.”

She swung again; but he caught the other end of the pillow and used it to pull her closer. “Oh yeah? Well I certainly didn’t hear you complain last night.”

Alex bit back a bashful grin. No, she definitely hadn’t complained last night. Last night had been… indescribable. Normally with Kenny it was a frantic rush to rip off clothes as they blindly stumbled and pushed each other to the nearest available surface. Rough and quick. Fucking. But last night had been different. He’d undressed her deliberately, like he wanted to memorize every curve of her body, every mark on her skin. He’d carried her to his bed and laid her down gently. He’d paid more attention to her needs than his, pleasuring her completely, slow and deep as she’d clutched at the sheets, his back, his hair, riding wave after wave until she couldn’t handle it anymore. He’d made love to her. She’d felt what she meant to him, undoubtedly. She’d felt it that morning when she’d woken up next to him and he’d told her to stay in bed while he made them breakfast. She felt it now. And, more than anything, she hoped that he felt what he meant to her, too. She didn’t want him to doubt that anymore.

“C’mere,” he gently said. He moved the pillow from in between them, and Alex snuggled against him as he wrapped his arm around her. “I’m sorry for teasing you,” he said with a kiss on her head. “I know video games aren’t your thing.”

She let out a sarcastic laugh. “And that’s not a deal-breaker?”

“What?” he shot, incredulous. “That’s ridiculous. Why would it be a deal-breaker?”

Alex’s face burned with embarrassment. She shouldn’t have said that; she didn’t know how to explain it without incriminating Adam. And she had to explain it now. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “It was one of the arguments people made back in June about why we shouldn’t be together, because I don’t play video games. It’s dumb; I shouldn’t have listened to it.”

There was a thick, contemplative pause. And then Kenny said, “And by ‘people’ I assume you mean ‘Adam.’”

Alex didn’t say anything in response. Her silence spoke volumes.

Kenny squeezed her closer. “Do you remember what you said to me at the hotel the night we first got back together? After your match against Callie and your fight with Trent?”

She looked up at him, her face a question mark. He went on.

“You said, ‘Fuck what anyone thinks. We worked things out and that’s all that matters.’ Well… now I’m saying the same thing to you.”

Alex glanced away, chewing anxiously on her lip. She did remember saying that now. She wished she would have taken her own advice.

“I couldn’t care less that video games aren’t your thing,” he assured her. “But you know they’re my thing, and you care enough about that to try. That means a lot to me. And besides… I actually think it’s adorable how frustrated you get.”

Warmth spread throughout Alex’s core. It meant a lot to him. He meant a lot to her. She needed him to know, once and for all. “Well, I care about the things you care about. Because I love you.”

She looked back up at him. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He looked so happy. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Kenny tilted her lips toward his and kissed her, soft and sweet. “I love you too, baby,” he said, and Alex’s heart was so full that it felt like it would burst out of her chest. They’d taken the long way around to get here, but they’d made it… and she finally felt like she could rest.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie couldn’t get rid of that knot in her stomach. It had only grown larger and more solid after she’d run into Adam at Starbucks. And, after a while, the focus of her guilt had started to shift.

Matt had been an absolute sweetheart all afternoon. He’d taken her to the beach because he knew how much she loved it. They’d walked along the boardwalk and out onto the pier, and he’d held her close and smiled big as she’d taken their picture in the midst of the ocean. He’d even waited patiently as she’d gone through the shops picking out clothes and trying them on (she’d rewarded him by modeling a few bikinis). And now, as they sat in a cute little café getting something to eat, she couldn’t help but watch him with a smile on her lips as he looked over the menu, admiring his long lashes and hair, his beard and jawline. He made her heart flutter.

So then why couldn’t she stop thinking about Adam?

The waiter brought them their drinks. They put in their order, and as they handed him the menus, Matt told him it would all be on one check. Callie blushed as the waiter nodded and walked away.

“You don’t have to pay for me,” she said.

“I know, but I want to,” he returned. “Besides, I owe you for getting the coffee this morning.”

“This’ll be more than the coffee.”

“Are you sure about that? We got Starbucks.”

She laughed. “Fair point. Well, thank you.” She crossed her right knee over her left, and her foot bumped his leg underneath the table. “Sorry,” she muttered and shifted in her seat. He gave her a quizzical smile.

“Okay, what’s up?”

She took a sip of her iced tea. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve been tense all day. What’s on your mind?”

Callie grabbed her straw wrapper from the tabletop and nervously wound it around her finger. That was a loaded question—and she wasn’t sure she was ready to unload. “I know I’ve been tense,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize; just talk to me. I want you to feel like you can talk to me about anything.”

“I do feel that way,” she returned. “It’s just…”

She trailed off. Matt finished her thought for her. “Adam?”

She wound the straw wrapper so tightly around her index finger that the tip turned red. “Is it that obvious?” she muttered.

He pulled his mouth to one side. “Well, you’ve seemed a little off ever since you ran into him this morning so… yeah.”

She frowned. “I’m sor—”

“Callie,” he gently cut her off. “Stop. Just talk to me. You’re not gonna hurt my feelings.”

Callie glanced down at her hands. On the contrary, her fear of hurting him was the exact reason she didn’t want to tell him what was on her mind. But Matt had been nothing but open and honest with her. She needed to do the same.

“I like this. A lot,” she said. “I like being with you, more than I expected to so soon. And I don’t regret anything. But… I’m not completely over Adam yet.”

She held her breath, bracing herself for his reaction, anticipating the worst—

“I don’t expect you to be.”

She breathed out. “What?”

Matt’s eyes were soft and understanding as he looked at her across the table. “I don’t expect you to be completely over Adam yet. It’s only been what, a week-and-a-half since you ended things with him? And in one of the most dramatic fashions possible,” he said with a smirk. “It’ll take time to get over that. Longer than a week-and-a-half.”

Callie’s brow furrowed. She was relieved, unbelievably so. But she was also confused. “But that doesn’t bother you? After we… you know.”

He smirked. “Not really. I mean, not to sound cocky, but I’m pretty sure you weren’t thinking about him last night or this morning.”

Her cheeks colored and she rolled her eyes. “You absolutely meant to sound cocky.”

Matt’s grin widened. He knew he had, too. “But no, it doesn’t bother me,” he assured. “I like you, Callie. A part of me always has, even when you were with Hangman. But I know this has all happened pretty fast, and I don’t want to push you. So as long as you’re honest with me about what you’re feeling and what you want, we’ll be good.”

Callie’s heart fluttered again. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve someone as sweet and understanding as Matt. But she did know she didn’t want to lose him. “Okay. I can do that,” she said; and as he smiled at her, she did her best to bury the thought of Adam’s kiss in the back of consciousness.

* * * * * * * * * *

Saturday... All Out

Alex was a bundle of nervous energy as Kenny pulled up to Daily’s Place Saturday afternoon. Today was the day: All Out. Her anxiety over it hadn’t let her get a wink of sleep last night, so much so that she worried she’d affected Kenny’s sleep with all her tossing and turning. But as they got out of his car and grabbed their suitcases from the trunk, he looked like his only concern was her.

“Are you alright?” He caught her hand in his. “You’ve been quiet all day.”

She tried to nod. “Yeah. I’m just…” she trailed off and changed her mind. “No. I’m nervous about your match. And about seeing the boys.”

“Don’t be nervous about the match,” he said with a gentle squeeze of her hand. “That’s for me to worry about. And why are you nervous about seeing your friends?”

Alex frowned. She couldn’t help but notice how he’d said the match was for him to worry about—not him and Adam. But she tried not to dwell on it. “Because I’m nervous I’ll walk in there and it’ll just be a repeat of three months ago. I’m sick of everyone trying to tell me what’s best for me.”

She glanced back at the arena, worry darkening her eyes. None of the boys had seemed thrilled when she’d told them she was leaving with Kenny on Wednesday, but they hadn’t put up any arguments, either. She hoped they hadn’t saved it for today.

Kenny let go of her hand and brought his up to cup either side of her face. She looked up into his eyes, gripping his wrists as he held her. “Remember what I told you?”

Her brow puckered. “Fuck what anyone thinks?”

“Fuck what anyone thinks,” he repeated.

She pressed her fingers into his skin. “I care what they think, Kenny. They’re my best friends.”

“I know.” He let out a breath and touched his lips to her forehead. “And because they’re your best friends, they should support you when you’re happy. Right?”

She frowned again. “You would think so.”

“Then don’t be nervous,” he said with another kiss on her forehead. He pulled back and looked down at her. “I’m sure it won’t be a repeat of three months ago. And if it is… it’s their problem, not yours.”

Alex lifted her heels off the ground and kissed him. “You’re right,” she breathed. “But speaking of your friends… don’t take it personally if I go out of my way to avoid Matt.”

“I’ll talk to Matt,” he returned. “Don’t worry about him, either. He’ll come around.”

She gave him a small, grateful grin. But she wouldn’t hold her breath on Matt coming around.

He shut the trunk and locked the car, and then he took her hand again, interlacing their fingers as they walked into the arena. And Alex realized, with some surprise, that she didn’t care if anyone saw them. She was with Kenny; he was with her. She didn’t want to hide that.

But they had to part ways once they got to the locker rooms. They shared a lingering kiss as Alex told him she’d see him later—she knew he’d be busy until after the show was over—and then she continued down the hall toward the Best Friends locker room. She drew in a deep breath through her nose, let it out through her mouth. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, Alex,” she said to herself. “They’re your best friends.” She steeled herself when she arrived at the door, pushed her way inside. Chuck, Trent, and Orange were all already there—and so was Adam.

She stopped just inside the entrance, her eyes wide and surprised. “Oh! Hey. I wasn’t expecting to see you in here.”

Adam looked even more caught off-guard to see her than she did him. “Yeah… Chuck said I could share with y’all. It’s a full house tonight and I don’t really have anywhere else to go because of… you know.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” She pulled her suitcase toward a cubby, doing her best to seem unbothered. But seeing Adam had thrown her off more than she’d expected it would. The text he’d sent her Wednesday night flashed in her mind. Hey, are you at the hotel? She’d thought about it more than she cared to admit over the last two-and-a-half days. Prior to two weeks ago, she wouldn’t have thought much of it at all. But now that she knew how he felt, she couldn’t help but wonder what his intentions had been.

“Hangy’s been hangin’ with us the last few days,” Chuck stated as she sat down. “Cowpals is a thing now.”

“It’s not a thing,” Adam returned. Chuck glared at him.

“Just let it happen, Adam!”

He grinned. So did Alex. “I agree with Chuck,” she said. She exchanged a glance with Adam as she unzipped her suitcase—a feeling. They’d always have each other’s back, no matter the circumstances.

“So do I,” Trent piped up. He looked at Alex. “All we were missing was you.”

He didn’t say it negatively. In fact, it was quite the opposite. We missed you. That was what she felt from it. Warmth.

“Well, I’m here now,” she smiled, and her anxiety loosened its grip when he smiled back. They were her best friends. Nothing would change that.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie had never spent much time in the EVP room. But now here she was, sitting on the couch next to Matt, watching as the All Out Buy In pre-show got underway. It was nice. She could get used to it.

“So are you gonna come out with us for our match orrrr…?”

She shot Matt a look. “I’m not even gonna justify that with a response.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Why not?”

Her eyebrows arched. “Seriously? I’m not accompanying you for your match, Matt. That’s just asking for trouble.”

“Trouble from who? Everyone’s about to find out that we’re wrestling together against Trent and Alex next week. What’s the difference?”

Callie looked down to pick at a loose string on her jeans. He wasn’t wrong—Tony had made the mixed tag match official earlier that afternoon, and Callie wouldn’t be surprised if the commentators mentioned it during the show tonight. But there was a difference between wrestling a match with Matt next week and accompanying the Young Bucks for their match against Jurassic Express. There was a big difference.

“There’s a difference, and you know there is,” she softly insisted. “I’m not going out there with you.”

She kept her gaze turned anxiously away from him. Ever since their talk at that little café two days ago, a nagging voice in the back of her head had kept worrying that, even though Matt had said he didn’t want to push her, he would only wait so long for her to get over Adam. Now, she worried he’d take her resistance the wrong way. But she had her reasons—completely valid reasons. She didn’t want people to assume things about their relationship; she didn’t want to invite their criticism and judgment. But, more than that, she didn’t want to rub her budding relationship with Matt in Adam’s face—and especially not tonight. He had a tag title match he needed to focus on tonight.

“Callie,” Matt said. The soft urgency in his voice beckoned her to look at him. “It’s fine. I was only joking.”

She gave him a tight smile. She believed him… but part of her still worried.

He leaned over and gave her a kiss. “Speaking of the match… I should go get ready. You can hang out here if you want.”

Her brow furrowed at him as he got up from the couch. “By myself? I’m not an EVP.”

“No… but you’re sleeping with one.”

He smirked. She scowled. He let out a laugh and bent over to give her another kiss. “I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come back to the locker room. I’m sure Nick’s changing now, too.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He gave her a wink and went out the door. And as it clicked shut behind him, that little voice in the back of her head nagged at her again.

* * * * * * * * * *

There was an undeniable electricity in the air—a big fight feel. Because it was a big fight: Kenny Omega and Hangman Adam Page vs. FTR for the AEW World Tag Team Championship. And Alex was almost certain she was more nervous than the people who were actually fighting.

Her hands were clammy as she walked through the halls to the Best Friends locker room. She wanted to walk with Adam to meet Kenny, so she could wish them both good luck before they headed to Gorilla. She wanted to stay out of their way as much as possible. She prayed they were on the same page tonight.

She entered the locker room just as Adam stood from his seat. He glanced at her as he grabbed his championship. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Just thought I’d go with you to meet Kenny,” she answered. She curiously looked him over. He was wearing black and white tights designed to look like chaps instead of his usual trunks. “New gear?”

He glanced down at himself and shrugged. “Yeah. Big pay-per-view match, I figured why not.”

She nodded. “I like it.”

A smile pulled at his lips. But it disappeared fast. “Well, I was just about to head to his locker room.”

She nodded again, and they went back out the door. She saw him look at her out of the corner of her eye as they walked. “Are you watching with the guys?” he asked.

“Yeah. They’re in one of the lounges with Jurassic Express and a few others.” She drew in a breath. “I might see if I can get a drink before I head back there.”

He gave a wry laugh. “That nervous?”

She looked up at him. “Aren’t you?”

His eyes turned contemplative. “I’m nervous, yeah. But not necessarily about losing the titles.”

Alex frowned. She wasn’t as nervous about them losing the titles as she was about other things, either.

They arrived at The Elite’s locker room. Adam raised a fist and knocked. Half a minute passed before Kenny answered, dressed in his usual gear, his AEW Tag Team Championship already around his waist. He smiled when he saw Alex.

“Hey. You coming up there with us?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t want to get in your way. I just wanted to wish you good luck before you went up there.”

He flashed a cocky grin. “I don’t need it.”

Alex rolled her eyes. I—not we. Again. She tried to ignore it just like she had earlier. “Well, kick their asses, then.” She reached up and kissed him, tender but quick. She didn’t want to do too much in front of Adam. Kenny smirked again as she pulled away.

“You know I will.”

She gave him a nervous smile, and then she turned to Adam. She stood on her toes and gave him a hug. He momentarily stiffened before he returned it. “Good luck,” she said.

“Thanks.”

She unwound her arms from around him and stepped back. “I’ll see you after,” she said to Kenny, and with a parting glance she retreated back down the hall, her stomach in knots. She half-wanted to find somewhere to watch the match alone, in the interest of self-preservation. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t take it so hard if she watched with her friends. Either way, she kept walking toward the lounge; and when she arrived and saw Trent opening up a bottle of red wine, she made a beeline for him.

“Wine?” she charged. Alcohol was alcohol, but still.

He gave her a look. “We’re classy, Alex. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.”

“A few hundred more,” she quipped. It earned a grin. He grabbed a glass and gave her a healthy pour. She took a long sip as she moved to one of the couches and sat down next to Chuck. He gave her a sympathetic smile.

“How you feeling?”

She laughed into her glass. “Like I’m gonna need a whole bottle to myself.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex had been joking—but the more she watched, the more she thought she probably would need a whole bottle to herself to get through this match.

Every minute brought with it a fresh wave of anxiety. Her entire body had tensed when the match had nearly started with Kenny and Cash, only for her heart to drop into her stomach when Adam had called to start it off instead, asking Kenny, “Do you trust me?” She didn’t know what Kenny had said in return—his back had been to the camera. When the match finally got underway, Adam had locked up with Cash like he wanted to murder him. He’d gone after him so aggressively that Dax had jumped in to intervene, and then Kenny had, too, obviously worried that Adam’s emotions were running away with him. He was proven right when Adam nearly swung on him. They’d worked through it… but Dax and Cash were firing on all cylinders. They’d managed to isolate Adam first and then Kenny, punishing them each in turn. And even when Adam and Kenny were able to pick up the pace and work together, it had been painfully obvious over the last fifteen minutes that, despite being the champions, they weren’t the tag team specialists in the match. FTR were.

Kenny and Cash were the legal men now. Adam was somewhere outside the ring, out of commission after Cash had shoved him off the ring apron and sent him flying into the guard railing. Kenny had hit a Tiger Driver ’98 and gone for the cover, but Cash had kicked out at two and dragged himself to the ropes. But Kenny didn’t give him much of a chance to recoup. He charged at the opposite ropes, rebounded, and nailed Cash with a V-Trigger to the side of the head. Then he picked him up on his shoulders. He was setting up the One-Winged Angel. Alex held her breath and grabbed Chuck’s knee—but Cash quickly got out of his hold.

“You want a refill?” Chuck asked.

She just nodded and handed him her glass, keeping her eyes glued on the TV. Cash shoved Kenny into the corner and charged, but Kenny dodged and reversed, pushing Cash into the corner. Dax made a hot tag. Kenny charged again, going for another V-Trigger—but Cash moved out of the way at the last second. Kenny’s knee rammed hard into the turnbuckle.

“Fuck,” Alex cursed under breath.

Chuck returned with her wine. She thanked him and immediately took a drink; and then nearly choked on it when she saw Cash swing Kenny’s leg through the ropes and Dax grab his ankle for a vicious dragon screw leg whip.

“You alright?” Chuck asked.

Alex nodded even though she wasn’t. Cash spun Kenny around and hit another dragon screw. And then Dax slid into the ring and latched on an inverted figure four leg lock.

“Shit,” Trent said from the other side of Chuck. Chuck elbowed him. Alex’s stomach dropped. That was the exact move Dax had used on Chuck to beat Best Friends in the tag team gauntlet match.

Dax grabbed the ropes for leverage, but the referee didn’t see it. Kenny did his best to stay up on his shoulder in order to keep the pressure off his knee. But he still looked like he was agony.

“And remember, this is how they made Chuck Taylor tap out in order to punch their ticket into this match,” Excalibur commented.

“Thanks for the reminder, Excalibur!” Chuck shouted at the TV, causing a few people in the room to laugh. Alex wasn’t one of them. She didn’t breathe again until Kenny managed to reach the ropes, forcing Dax to break the hold.

Kenny laid on the mat, nursing his knee—but Dax got right back on him. He grabbed his leg and dropped a few elbows on his knee before he put all his bodyweight on his thigh and bent Kenny’s leg at an unnatural angle around his torso. Kenny grabbed at his head, his arm, anything to try to get out of the hold; but Dax just got up, dragged him to the ropes, draped his ankle across it, and smashed himself down hard onto his leg. Alex worried at her lip. Adam was back up on the ring apron now, but Kenny was nowhere near him.

Dax tagged in Cash. Cash jumped to the floor and held Kenny’s ankle across the rope so that Dax could throw all his bodyweight down onto his leg one more time before they switched. He slid into the ring and stomped Kenny’s head, making Alex scowl; but then Kenny sat up and rolled under the ropes to the floor. He limped over to the guard railing and latched onto it, doing his best to keep himself upright.

Alex felt her chest start to tighten. She felt so helpless. All she could do was take another drink.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie was starting to regret watching the tag title match with Matt and Nick. They were all cheering for the same team—but it was obvious that Matt and Nick expected Kenny to do all the work. It irked her. So when Adam had finally tagged in and started clearing house, she couldn’t help but feel a little vindicated.

She nervously watched as he ascended a turnbuckle, knowing immediately that he was going for a moonsault. She both loved and hated that move; she loved seeing it, but it always scared her when he did it. But then, he didn’t do a moonsault. Tully urged Cash and Dax to come to the other side of the turnbuckle—and so Adam pivoted and did a senton instead.

“Tremendous improvisation there by Hangman Adam Page,” Excalibur stated. Callie smiled to herself. But Matt pursed his lips.

“More like unnecessary risk,” he commented.

It was a struggle for Callie not to roll her eyes. Matt and Nick were arguably the biggest daredevils in the entire company. Either of them would have done the same exact thing.

Back in the ring, Adam went for the cover on Cash—but he kicked out at two. After they both got to their feet, they traded blows in the middle of the ring before Cash attempted another swinging DDT; Dax made another blind tag as he did. But Adam blocked the move and hit Dax with a back elbow, knocking him to the floor. He and Cash jockeyed for position until Adam gained control and drove him toward the ropes; but Dax hopped back up onto the apron and hit Adam with a forearm. He dove into the ring and covered him. Adam kicked out at two.

“They’re deadly with those blind tags, man,” Nick said.

Both Matt and Callie kept quiet as they watched Cash and Dax ascend the turnbuckles. They jumped simultaneously and hit Adam with tandem diving headbutts. Cash was the legal man again and he hooked Adam’s leg. That time, Kenny dove in and broke up the pin attempt. Callie half-expected a smart-ass comment from Matt. Thankfully, he didn’t make one.

Kenny and Dax were battling on the ring apron now. Each of them tried to suplex the other, but each attempt was blocked, until Dax ended up back inside the ring, his head still locked underneath Kenny’s arm and vice versa. But then, suddenly, Cash charged and launched himself over the ropes and flipped to the floor. He grabbed Kenny and picked him up on his shoulders, and Dax jumped off the ring apron and hit him with a diving bulldog to the floor.

Matt and Nick expelled twin breaths of exasperation. Callie’s mouth went dry. She wiped her hands on her jeans and got up from the couch to cross the room and grab a water bottle from the mini fridge. She opened it and took a long gulp. By the time she looked back at the TV, Cash was back in the ring with Adam. Adam tried to hit him with a short-arm lariat, but Cash reversed it and landed a forearm to the back of the head. Then he lifted Adam up on his shoulders. He walked over to FTR’s corner and tagged in Dax. Dax climbed the turnbuckle and hit Adam with a diving bulldog to match Kenny’s. He went for yet another cover, but Adam powered out.

“Hangman needs to tag in Kenny,” Matt said.

Callie shot him a look. “Kenny’s not even in their corner!” she argued, motioning to where he’d collapsed against the ring apron. Matt ignored her.

Dax pulled Adam up by the hair and reached out to tag in Cash. Cash climbed the turnbuckle again—but Kenny jumped up onto the apron and pushed him off balance. Meanwhile in the ring, Adam reversed Dax’s hold and dumped him over the ropes onto the floor. Cash tried to get back into position atop the turnbuckle; but before he could, Adam jumped up onto the second rope, picked him up, and hit a lungbuster suplex into the middle of the ring. Callie held her breath as he went for the pin—but Cash somehow managed to kick out.

“Fuck,” she breathed. She walked over to the couch and sat back down next to Matt, further away than she’d been before.

Kenny yelled something at Adam from outside the ring. Adam beckoned him. “Last Call!” he shouted. Callie tensed. She didn’t have a good feeling about this.

Kenny got into the ring while Adam went out onto the ring apron. Cash struggled to get up from his knees in the middle of the canvas. Kenny picked him up by his hair and held him by the arms. Adam flipped over the ropes and careened toward them, on-target for a hard Buckshot Lariat—but Cash ducked. Callie’s hand flew to her mouth; he’d nearly hit Kenny instead. And then, disaster. Adam grabbed Cash. Kenny charged, aiming to land a V-Trigger. But Cash pulled free at the last second, and Kenny’s knee collided with Adam’s jaw with an audible smack!

“Fuck!” Matt cursed.

Kenny tried to catch Adam, but Cash hit him with a chop block to the back of his injured knee and they both fell to the Matt. Kenny reached out and grabbed ahold of the fringe on Adam’s tights, pulling and jerking, trying to revive him. When that didn’t work, he smacked his leg. But Adam was completely out of it.

Cash pulled Adam away from Kenny and then hit Kenny with a basement dropkick, sending him rolling into the corner. He jumped up and tagged in Dax. Dax climbed the turnbuckle while Cash picked up Adam, upside down. Dax jumped, and they hit Adam with a perfect Mind Breaker. Dax went for the pin, grinning wickedly at Kenny as he tried to crawl toward him. He anticipated a three-count.

But Adam got his shoulder up at two.

“Holy shit,” Nick leaned eagerly forward on his knees. Matt remained quiet.

But Cash and Dax didn’t waste any time. Cash battled Kenny and shoved him under the ropes to the floor while Dax dragged Adam back onto his feet. Cash tagged in and ascended the turnbuckle. Dax picked up Adam. Cash jumped, delivering another Mind Breaker. He pinned Adam. Dax intercepted Kenny as he tried to dive through the ropes, but he didn’t need to. That time, Adam didn’t kick out.

Disbelief and dread consumed Callie as FTR’s music started to play. The crowd was mostly silent as Justin Roberts’s voice echoed throughout the arena. “The winners of this match, and new AEW World Tag Team Champions: F—T—R!”

Matt pushed himself up. “Come on, let’s go,” he said to Nick.

Callie looked up at him in confusion. “What’re you gonna do?”

He shot her a look over his shoulder. “Try to talk Kenny down,” he returned, and then they both exited, leaving her alone in the locker room.

She stared at the door, stunned, unsure what to do. She looked back at the TV. FTR hoisted the titles high above their heads while Tully brought them two cans of beer. She expected them to crack them open and drink in celebration—but they didn’t. Instead, they set the beers next to Adam, who still laid clutching his head on the mat, as if to toast him. Thanks, bud, we couldn’t have done it without you.

She kept watching as they continued to celebrate, waiting for Matt and Nick to burst out from the tunnels. But they never did. Soon, FTR left, and the former champions were left alone. Adam leaned against the ropes, still not quite all there—and Kenny stood in the middle of the ring, a small folding table in his hands.

Callie’s breath hitched in her throat. Kenny held the table up, gripping it hard, an angry, contemplative look in his eyes. Seconds passed like minutes. And then, he tossed the table aside. Relief flooded her; but it was premature. Adam stumbled toward Kenny, and instead of catching him, Kenny moved out of the way and let him collapse face-first to the mat like a felled tree.

She would have preferred that he hit him with the table.

“Where the fuck are Matt and Nick?” she said out loud. Kenny gazed down at Adam’s prone form, a look of quiet disgust on his face. He exited the ring and stalked up the entrance ramp. He paused on the stage to give Adam one last hard look, and then he turned and walked through the tunnel.

The camera stayed on him as he moved swiftly through Gorilla and toward backstage. Matt and Nick stood waiting for him in the interview area. Kenny started yelling.

“Did you see that? Did you see that there? After everything I did!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Matt tried to say; but Kenny pushed through them and kept walking.

“I’m done. We’re done. Let’s go.”

Callie’s eyes widened as she continued to watch. Matt turned and followed after Kenny without hesitation. Nick was more hesitant, but he followed, too.

Kenny and Matt continued to talk, but Callie couldn’t understand what they were saying as the commentators tried to figure out what was happening. They moved into the parking lot and Kenny pointed toward a waiting SUV. “I’m done. Are you guys coming with me?”

“Oh fuck no,” Callie muttered.

Matt continued to try to talk him down, but he didn’t try to stop him from walking. “Let’s sit down and talk about what’s going on right now. I know it’s…” he trailed off, unsure what to say.

“It’s time for a clean split… a clean break,” Kenny said. “Let’s go back to the way things were.”

They reached the SUV. He finally stopped and looked back at Matt and Nick. “Are you coming with me or not? It’s up to you—you can’t go back on this.”

Neither of them answered. Kenny didn’t have the patience for it.

“Okay, think about it—think about it. I’ll see you guys.” He looked at the driver. “Get in the car! We’re going,” he ordered. And then he got in the backseat of the SUV, slammed the door, and drove off, leaving Matt and Nick—and everyone else—stunned and confused.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex walked on shaky legs through the hotel lobby, pulling her suitcase behind her. She reached the elevators and punched the up button, angry. She felt like a tea kettle ready to burst; and, honestly, she was afraid of what she might do when she saw Kenny.

She’d left the arena as quickly as she could after the end of the tag match. Gone back to the locker room, packed up her shit, and called an Uber, apologizing to Orange on the way out for not staying for his match against Chris Jericho. There was no way she could stay there a second longer after what Kenny had done.

The elevator carried her to their floor. He’d booked the same room he always did. She stepped off the elevator and walked swiftly down the hall. When she reached the room, she banged hard on the door. Kenny answered a few seconds later, apparently fresh out of the shower, wearing just a pair of gym shorts.

“Hey, baby,” he said—but Alex pushed past him into the room. He shut the door and followed her inside. “Look, I’m sorry for—"

Crack!

Alex whirled around and slapped him hard across the face, cutting him off mid-sentence. She’d hit him hard enough that it turned his head, hard enough that her hand immediately stung. Kenny touched his fingers to his face. He gave a short, wry laugh.

“I guess I deserve that.”

“You’re fucking right you do,” she bit. “You lied to me, Kenny. You told me you would fix things with Adam and you just left him out there. You left the whole fucking arena.”

He rolled his eyes. Alex’s hand itched to slap him again. “Well what would you have liked me to do, Alex?” he asked. “Hm? Should I have caught him and told him that everything would be alright? Should I have said, ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get the titles back, bud!’ Is that what I should’ve done?”

“You shouldn’t have just left him and run out of the arena!”

“Well I did, because I’m done with him!”

Alex went momentarily dizzy. “What?” she breathed. “How can you say—”

“Because I’m done with being a tag team wrestler, Alex!” he proclaimed. “I’m done with being a drunken cowboy’s sidekick! I don’t want that! That’s not who I am! That’s not what I came to AEW to do! I don’t need to tell you that! You know that.”

He raked a hand through his hair, frustrated. Alex could feel it radiating off of him like heat. It shocked her, but she knew she needed to just listen.

“It was fun with Hangman while it lasted,” he went on. “I’m glad we got to be tag team champions together; I am. But I’m past that now. It’s time for me to be Kenny Omega now. It’s time for me to be the guy that everyone’s wanted and expected from day one of Dynamite.”

Alex scoffed. “What guy? The Cleaner?”

“Yeah,” he bluntly returned. “Exactly that guy. Isn’t that the guy you wanted when we first got involved? The Cleaner?”

Her breath hitched in her throat. There was nothing she could say to that—it was true. She’d never met Kenny prior to AEW. She just knew him as most of the world did: The Best Bout Machine, the leader of Bullet Club, the Cleaner, Kenny-fucking-Omega. His reputation preceded him. It intrigued her. It attracted her. It made her want to get to know him once she had the chance. And then she fell in love with him, the real him. But the thought of him being that guy in AEW… with her… she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that that intrigued her, too.

He stepped closer. Alex didn’t move. He took her by the hips and pulled her against him; a pleasant tingle danced up her spine at his touch. As upset with him as she was, she couldn’t help the way her body reacted to him.

“I know you’re angry,” he said, his voice softening. “And I’m sorry it happened this way… but we both know it would’ve happened eventually. I can’t keep tagging with Adam to get what I want. And what I want is the AEW World Championship… and you by my side when I get it.”

Alex’s stomach did a flip. But her brow lowered, stubborn. “And what makes you think I want to be by your side when you get it?”

He gave a breathy laugh. “Come on, don’t be ridiculous. You know you’re my girl.”

There it was again, that cocky grin. But Alex didn’t argue or pull away. She just gazed up at him, her chest rising and falling with her breath, heart racing. She wanted to believe he was wrong; but she knew he wasn’t. She knew she’d go around and around this carousel with Kenny until it made her sick. He pushed her to the edge; he drove her insane; he made her do things that she never thought she’d do in a million lifetimes. He was exhilarating and infuriating and terrifying and intoxicating all at once. And every time she thought she’d sobered up she would always fall right back into him. It might take a week, or a month, or a year—but it was inevitable.

“Aren’t you, baby?” He cupped her jaw in his hand. She leaned into his touch. He ran his thumb over her mouth. Her eyes fell closed, kissing it, and then he parted her lips and slipped it inside her mouth. She sucked as he moved it in and out, slow. She bit down gently and opened her eyes. He looked like he wanted to ravage her—and she wanted to let him.

He pulled his thumb from her mouth and picked her up. She wrapped her legs tight around his waist and kissed him as he walked her blindly to the bed, grabbing at his curls, needing to taste him, feel him, get lost in him. She was still upset with him for what he’d done to Adam; of course she was. But she was in love with him. She couldn’t help that.

#aew fanfiction #kenny omega fanfiction #adam page fanfiction #hangman adam page fanfiction #hangman page fanfiction #matt jackson fanfiction #young bucks fanfiction #ftr fanfiction #cash wheeler fanfiction #best friends fanfiction #the elite fanfiction

62 notes · View notes